au!dark

Would You Be My Wife? (Part 1)

Summary: Bucky needs a way to get rid of his one night stands and decides to offer you a place to stay in exchange for you to pretend to be his wife who has caught him cheating. (Modern-Day AU drabble series)

Word Count: 845

Warnings: None.

A/N: I can only write drabbles right now so have this, guys.

Originally posted by bovaria


Bucky stared at the woman as if she had grown another head overnight. She had been a fantastic lay, but it was now morning and Bucky’s affections ended as soon as the sun peeked through the horizon, its rays lighting up the sky and creeping into his bedroom. Bucky tried to pry her away from him, but her grip was tight and she was determined to use his bare chest as a pillow.

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Scientists found a galaxy that’s 99.99% dark matter

Astronomers have found a galaxy that is made almost entirely of a mysterious, invisible substance called dark matter. The dark matter galaxy is called Dragonfly 44. It’s roughly the same size as the Milky Way, so you could argue it’s kind of like our evil twin galaxy made of dark matter. Or, as the researchers put it, “Dragonfly 44 can be viewed as a failed Milky Way.” The discovery could help us finally answer 2 big questions about dark matter.

follow @the-future-now

4

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Much shorter than expected, but I got tired from making all the line art.. so I thought I’d upload this one instead and continue on part 5 later! I hope you’re okay with a rougher looking part 5 because this takes way too long…

And where did Coran go you ask? I forgot to draw him !! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ but he wasn’t important in this scene so it it’s no big deal. håhå. 

Can we have a third encounter of Frank with the Frasers in Modern Glasgow? Maybe one with the wee bairns so he’ll see what a happy family they all are!

Modern Glasgow AU

Claire set down the hairbrush and clipped the shiny barrette into Faith’s dark curls.

“There! All done.”

Ten-year-old Faith Fraser turned her head in the mirror, admiring her Mama’s handiwork. And smiled.

“It’s beautiful! Do you think any of the other girls there will have one, too?”

Claire smoothed the shoulders of Faith’s sundress, picking off a few pieces of lint. “Certainly not one like this - Suzette bought it at a special shop in France, remember?”

Faith nodded enthusiastically. “Aye - I ken that. Only…”

Claire sat on the bench in front of her vanity, watching her daughter’s face in the mirror. Patient - as she was with all of her children. From birth she had instilled in all of them the simple fact that Mama and Da would *always* be there, would *always* listen, and *always* love them deeply, no matter what. Simple - and yet, she knew that so many other parents never even hinted as much with their own children.

“Only what, love?”

Faith pursed her lips. “Only - ye ken I dinna much like it when I have to play wi’ children I don’t know, aye?”

Claire smiled and opened her arms. Faith sank into them gladly, settling her face against her Mama’s shoulder.

“I know - and I also know you’re old enough now to understand that sometimes we must do things that make us uncomfortable. Because it’s important to somebody else.”

She sighed, holding her eldest daughter close, relishing their time alone.

“Can I tell you a secret, Faith?”

Faith stood up, straightening her shoulders - proud that Mama was telling her such grown-up things.

“Do you think *I* really want to go to this picnic today? It’s for Da’s job, and I don’t much feel like talking with other ladies that I don’t know. So - you and I are in the same boat, aye?”

Faith nodded, smiling. Good.

“Aye. I understand. I’ll mind Bree and William and Julia, Mama - I dinna want ye to worry.”

Claire’s heart swelled with love for Faith - her miracle child, who had had a rough start in life but who had grown to prove that her heart was more loving and compassionate - and responsible - than any other girl she’d ever known.

“I’ll take care of Julia - but if you could keep an eye on Bree and William, Da and I would be very grateful.” Softly she thumbed her daughter’s cheek, pushing one of Faith’s curls - so much like her own - behind her ear.

“Now - can you help me get everyone else ready?”

—–

Jamie settled a sleepy Julia - clad in a bright blue baby dress - against his shoulder, adjusted her hat to protect her from the afternoon sun, and took a draught from his tumbler of whisky with his other hand, clearly absorbed in conversation with one of his favorite clients.

“And what’s this newest story about then, Ned?”

The elderly man squinted in the sunshine as he looked up at Jamie, cheeks flushed with champagne.

“Ah! Well - you know how my last novel was about an Englishwoman who was captured by Scotland Yard on suspicion of being a spy, even though she said she wasn’t - but she was actually a double agent for the Americans? Well - ”

Claire squeezed Jamie’s shoulder and stepped away, letting the men talk. Jamie and Ned had developed such a lovely relationship over the years - Jamie had always been patient and kind with the brilliant yet scatterbrained retired lawyer turned writer, and in turn Ned had been very loyal to Jamie, insisting he accompany him on his small book tours throughout the UK. Even as Jamie had advanced up the ranks at the publishing company - he was now third in command, and Rupert’s right-hand man - and no longer interacted as much with the authors, there were a few he still insisted on seeing to personally.

The publishing house hosted this summer garden party every year - inviting the employees and their families to attend a lovely afternoon of food, drink, and games for the children. All the authors and their families were also invited to informally mingle with the staff - keeping it casual, but also forging new business relationships.

It was fun to see some of the other spouses - Rupert’s wife Scarlett and their tribe of wee MacKenzies, Willie and Mary - who had scaled back her hours at the hospital once she gave birth to their son Jack - Angus and his latest girlfriend (or at least Claire hoped she was a girlfriend, and not one of those escorts he’d brought to the event last year).

But as it was even at her own work events, it was tiring to make nice and socialize all afternoon, knowing she couldn’t speak as freely as she wanted - mindful of her position as Jamie’s wife, and the need for him to maintain his rock-solid reputation at the company. Which is why she insisted her wee Frasers be on their best behavior - she didn’t want them making a scene, as wee Hamish MacKenzie had last year when he’d pulled down the skirt of one of the author’s wives…

Her eyes scanned the crowd - ah, there was Brianna’s red head, swaying back and forth on the swingset beside Faith and Morag MacKenzie, one of Rupert’s daughters. William was nearby, deep in conversation with one of Morag’s brothers, Jerry.

And to think that Scarlett was pregnant again…quickly she counted up in her head the number of small MacKenzies she’d seen running around this afternoon. Five? Six?

She turned back to the refreshments table - ah. Sangria - perfect.

Claire helped herself and then scanned the table for a napkin -

“Claire?”

She almost dropped her glass. That voice - she hadn’t heard it in years, but recognized it instantly.

She swallowed, and turned.

“Hello Frank.”

Her right hand clutched the glass - her left dropped to her side, thumb furiously tracing her wedding ring.

He was dressed informally - a button-down shirt open at the neck, jeans, sunglasses hanging from his shirt pocket. Posh. Polished. Smart.

Memory flashed - Frank had always neatly pressed his shirts before folding them and stacking them in his bureau, usually while dictating ideas into a tape recorder.

And then another flash - Jamie desperately rummaging through his closet this afternoon for a suitable shirt after Julia had spit up all over the one he’d picked out.

“I - I didn’t expect to see you here. I know your - husband - is still employed by the publishing house, but as I don’t have any direct dealings with him…”

She pasted on a thin-lipped smile. “We’re here every year - Jamie co-runs the operations side of the business now, with Rupert MacKenzie. Though he still has a small group of writers he’s worked with for a very long time.”

Frank glanced down at his glass of whine - white, his favorite - and shuffled his feet.

Silence bloomed - and Claire groped around in her mind for something to say.

“I understand you’ve become quite the accomplished author yourself - written a series about the ‘45 and such. Jamie tells me it’s been a popular hit.”

Frank nodded absently. “Yes, well. I’m still teaching at Oxford, and I’ve even been on a few television programmes.”

Claire sipped her sangria. “Yes, I know. My son enjoys watching them - he loves his history. Especially Scottish history.”

Frank blinked. “So you’ve a son, then? I knew you had a daughter or two - ”

Claire straightened. “Two sons, actually - the history buff is eight, and we adopted another boy from France. He’s at uni - studying journalism.”

She watched him nod, taking in the news. “Did you ever see yourself with so many children, Claire? It was never something you brought up when we were together.”

“I never really thought about it - but once I met Jamie, I realized that it’s what I want. A family. A big family.”

“Even with your work? Are you still at that hospital?”

She shifted in her sandals, feeling the tops of her feet burning in the bright summer sun. “I am - but I’m not in the ER anymore. I’m a thoracic surgeon.”

Frank sipped his wine. “Impressive.”

Claire smiled, digging in her purse for her sunglasses. “Indeed. Especially since I have four small children at home.”

“Ah! Darling - there you are.”

Claire turned - and watched a slight blonde woman in a long, flowy dress approach Frank and kiss him on the cheek.

Frank backed away from her a bit and gestured toward Claire. “Cara - this is -”

“Dr. Claire Fraser. Pleasure.” She extended her hand. Cara took it - limply.

“Ah! Are you a professor as well?” Cara slung an arm over Frank’s shoulders.

“No, darling - she’s a medical doctor. A surgeon.”

Cara squinted at Claire in the sunshine. “Oh, how interesting! I’m working on my PhD, actually - French history. Frank’s been such a great help over the past few years.”

“I’m sure,” Claire replied drily - biting her tongue.

“Mama!”

Two small forms seized her knees. Her heart immediately lifted.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, hiking up her dress so she could crouch down to be at eye level with Faith and William. “Have you been having fun?”

Faith rolled her eyes - but William nodded enthusiastically.

Claire rested a gentle hand on their shoulders and stood. “Frank - Cara - these are two of my children, Faith and William Fraser.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Faith said softly, wondering who these strange people were - and why Mama’s hand was so tense on her shoulder.

Frank nodded - suddenly stiff. It dawned on Claire that he hadn’t mentioned any children of his own.

“The two of you look just like your mother,” he said, voice tight.

“No’ all of us do!” William exclaimed. “My brother Fergus - well he’s French, so he doesna look like Mama or Da, but -”

“Bree!”

Faith called to her sister, who was eyeing the dessert table. She glanced up, and happily scampered over to her mother and siblings.

“And this is my daughter Brianna.” Claire lifted her hand from William to draw Bree close - watching her remove her hat and lift her damp red hair, brilliant in the sunshine, from the nape of her neck.

“Hello,” Brianna said politely. “Who are you?”

“This is Professor Randall and - ”

“My friend Cara,” Frank interrupted. “I write history books.”

William gasped. “I’ve seen you on the TV! Murtagh and I watch all of yer programs!”

Frank smiled politely. “Yes - I’ve done a few programs over the years.”

“I loved the one where ye visited Fort William! My da took me and my brother there last year - I kent all about the history already!”

“Indeed. It’s an interesting place.”

He spoke to William as he would to an adult - rather than to an eight-year-old. And then it became quite clear to Claire that Frank never had - and likely never would - spend much time around children.

“Claire’s husband is an - executive - at Leoch Publishing,” Frank belatedly explained to Cara. “And a bit of a history buff, if I understand correctly.”

And then all the tension in Claire’s body slackened with one touch to her side.

“I am. It’s good to see you again, Professor Randall.”

Jamie extended his left hand to shake Frank’s, as Julia was dead asleep against his right shoulder. The wide silver band of his wedding ring glinted in the bright afternoon sunshine.

Frank took the proffered hand and shook it gracefully. “This is Cara - she’s one of my PhD students.”

Jamie nodded politely, then settled his free hand possessively around Claire’s waist. Her right hand snaked around his back, sinking her fingers into the back pocket of his jeans.

Frank’s gaze turned to the sleeping baby. “And this is - ”

“Ah - Julia. Our youngest, just six months old this week.”

Jamie kissed his tiny daughter’s wee forehead. Claire curled her fingers into his pocket - digging into his arse. Faith, Bree, and William stood - bored, yet patient - before them.

Frank coughed.

“Well then. I won’t take up any more of your time - I’m sure you still have a lot of business to attend to.”

Jamie nodded, politely.

“So nice to meet you and your family,” Cara said softly, eyes already scanning the crowd for the next conversation partner.

“Good to see you, Frank.” Claire smiled, drawing strength from her wee ragtag family.

“And you, Claire. You look happy. It becomes you.”

And with that, he nodded and led Cara away.

Claire waited for twenty seconds - then curled into Jamie’s chest, eyes closed, breathing deeply.

Her mind desperately rooted for something - anything - to anchor her.

Jamie’s solidity. Julia’s softness. Jamie’s scent - and the small patch of hair at the open neck of his shirt.

And his eyes this morning - smiling, half-asleep, and intent on hers as he buried his face between her legs.

“I’m here,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s done now. Do ye want to go home?”

The older children wordlessly hugged their Mama’s middle and knees - not understading, but knowing that she needed support.

She breathed deep, and shook her head. “No. I’m quite alright, actually.” Then she looked up at him, squinting down at her in the sunshine.

“Because I have you. All of you. I’ll always be alright.”

His smile flashed - and then his mouth met hers. Not caring that they were surrounded by so many people.

The wee Frasers, accustomed to the sight, groaned in unison.

The Rebel and the Rose. Part One: Chapter 7.

It’s FriYAY once more, and the weekend! Happy Days. I hope you all have a little bit of sun in your lives, and if not…I’m sure it will come.

Thank you to @lenny9987 for editing this beast, always in your debt for that!

…and also to @gotham-ruaidh, @writtenthroughtime, @westerhos, @londonerbecky, @iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight, @bonnie-wee-swordsman and @suhailauniverse for always being funny/serious/cheerful/intelligent/caring/sharing and many more things besides, this massive SMUT filled chapter is for you! Obvs this is the way I show emotion and/or affection (Is that healthy? Who knows!).

MUCH LOVE.

– – – — – – –

Part One: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.

– – – — – – –

“Have ye ever lain wi’ a man, Claire?“ His eyes were serious now, as they stared over at her, she had still to lift her head. He knew the answer before he’d asked the question, of course, but he wanted to hear her say it. He needed her to understand the implications of what she asked him. If they did this, if they lay together, she may forever be tarnished with that mark.

She would no longer be a virgin.

"No.” She mumbled, her eyes finally meeting his. He could swear there was a hint of defiance there. “I know what I’m doing, Jamie. I want you.”

“Do ye now…” He counteracted, knowing she couldn’t possibly, really, understand.

He took one step forward, his hands tugging at the base of his shirt. There was only one way to make her truly see. If she still wanted him after, then he wouldn’t turn her down, he couldn’t. In one sweeping motion he removed the only thing keeping him decent and walked to stand directly in front of her. Inadvertently this had brought the very part of his anatomy he was trying to hide right before her eyes. She needed to she a man naked, to understand.

Slowly her eyes raised from his crotch up to meet his. Hers were wide. He’d shocked her, good. He reached his hand forward to take hers and laid it against him.

“Ye see, Claire. I’ll hurt ye, the first time. I canna avoid it.”

“I know how it works, I’ve read…”

“Aye! Ye’ve read things, Claire. Ye havena felt it, it isna the same! Just the basics, I need ye to ken the proper nature of it. I want ye, badly. I wouldna be in this state if no’ and once I start, I willna be able to stop.”

In a moment of passion he crawled across the bed, took her in his arms and pushed her against the wall the other side. Pinning her against the woodwork. Her legs automatically opened to allow him to stand between them. She still had her palm wrapped around him, he laid his hand over hers gently massaging her warm skin. With his free hand he started to run his fingers along the length of her, exposed as she was to him.

“When ye first do it, yer no’ accustomed to anything, aye? Yer body has to experience it. Ye ken that’s why yer slippery as an eel.” His fingers gradually crept along, his mouth inches from hers. He took her lips against his in a bruising kiss as he let his fingers slip inside her, just a wee way at first to allow her the feel of it. Then more. As he ran the palm of his hand over her, his fingers buried within, she moaned and tilted her hips to meet him.

“Christ, Sassenach. There’s no’ much room for my fingers, never mind my cock, but I want ye!” His tongue drew patterns against her lower lip as he spoke. Her eyes were closed and her head tipped back slightly as she rocked against him, unable to vocalise anything. The feeling was too much. She knew somewhere deep down this was only the beginning, that penetrating her with his digits was nothing compared to having him inside her. Her hand gripped him roughly now, noting every solid inch of him, causing him to thrust his hips.

“Claire, if I take ye now, like this, I’ll be no better than the barbarians they describe us as…” He panted against her, his fingers now abandoning their previous ministrations to pin her hands above her head. He needed a moment. “…ye dinna ken how much I’ve ached for ye, Claire, but I canna…”

She silenced him with a kiss, placed one foot flat against the wall causing her legs to spread and her hips to rise; and slowly, aching slowly, pushed herself flush against him. Using the leverage of his hands as they secured her wrists, she rocked her pelvis against his, groaning into his mouth as she felt him, hard and heavy, against her. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure through her belly and her nipples hardened. He felt them flush against his chest.

“Get on the bed, Claire. I want t’ see ye again.” He gasped as he pulled away from her searing kiss, freeing her hands. Her shift slipped fully off as she walked around Jamie and began to pull the coverlet off the mattress.

“No, Claire. Lie on top of it.” His voice was low, raspy as he watched her crawl atop the bed as he’d requested. He could tell she didn’t really know what to do. “Claire, dinna fash, just lie on yer back. Put ye legs apart, feet on the bed.”

A flash of something rushed through her at his words, her mouth watered and her fingers clenched into the duvet. She did as she was bid, lying with her head twisted towards him, her cheeks gloriously flushed. He reached out a finger and ran it along her collarbone. Her skin was so warm, he moved down rubbing his thumb over her nipple before replacing his hand with his mouth, sucking her slowly and then nipping at her. His teeth on her sensitive flesh was indescribable and she arched her back, her fingers finding purchase in his thick red hair.

He continued his path then, confident that she was so lost in the haze of his touch that she wouldn’t balk at what he was about to do. She’d the measure of the basic principles of sexual intercourse, but Jamie knew a few more intimate details that might be useful in this moment, things that he wasn’t sure she’d be comfortable with had he told her.

His tongue finally found its destination, her legs tensed and her fingers tightened in his curls as he licked the length of her before sucking against her damp skin, the salty sweetness of her filling his senses as he moaned against her. She tried to move his head, her thighs lifting as if to close, but as always he was one step ahead of her.

“No, a ghraidh, no’ yet ye don’t.” He mumbled against her, the vibrations of his voice sending ripples of movement through her and down to her toes. Her legs relinquished some of their tautness and her head fell back as he continued to lap and lick her very centre. The world seemed to fall away, her tummy clenched and relaxed in rhythm with his movements. Her gasps of breath were followed by his as he brought her to the brink over and over again. His tongue ran laps over her until she couldn’t see anything but spots in front of her eyes, her hands were pushing his head down and down, over and over. Her lungs never seemed to be able to fill with enough oxygen to supply her brain, and all the blood in her body seemed to have retreated south.

She cried out as he drew her sensitive skin into his mouth and sucked, hard. Writhing, her vision blurred and her whole body shook. Her legs curled up against her before flopping against the bed, her chest heaving in the aftermath.

Her brain had barely any time to come back to itself before she felt him against her. She was raw, shaking, but that didn’t stop Jamie. He’d needed to have her at his mercy, and he’d achieved that. He thrust into her quickly, holding himself flush with her, allowing her to come round a little and for her body to become accustomed to him inside her this way. Her hands came up and held his arse, her palms were clammy and unsteady.

“Oh…Jamie,” she gasped, her lips barely moving as her thighs lifted to wrap around his hips, his presence bringing her alive once more. “Please.” He began to move then, very gently at first, and then faster as he lost himself. He bent his head, his long locks shielding Claire from everything but him as he kissed her long and deep. Their tongues came together in time with their bodies.

She’d been so lost to the pleasure of his mouth against her that she’d completely missed the pain of their first coupling, she ached now a little as he thrust against her, again and again. But without her even knowing he’d kept her attention elsewhere to spare her. She smiled against his lips at the thought, he’d called himself a barbarian earlier, but he was more of a gentleman than she’d ever met before.

It was in that moment, watching him through hooded lids, that she realised how much she’d fallen under his spell and her heart stuttered. Her legs locked around his thighs now, and her fingers groped at his bottom. She was in too deep, she was sure he was also. In the heat of the moment she’d invited him into her bed and he’d confessed his desire for her.

She could feel the bruises forming as his hip bones hit the top of her legs, feeling his movements become more and more erratic. His moans grew louder and he buried his head against her neck as he cried out and fell against her, his legs buckling with the pressure of his orgasm.

Both slick with sweat, they lay, panting a systematic rhythm. His chest would rise and hers would fall. In time with each other even in their half-sedated state. Jamie shifted a little before pulling Claire against him. They were still surrounded by the warmth of their activities that neither of them felt the need to move under the blankets. Claire buried her head against Jamie’s chest, the sparse hairs there damp but comforting. Their legs intertwined and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Tenderness start to ebb and flow through her as she fell into an easy sleep, her muscles throbbing with the most pleasurable pain. Her heart finally calmed as she squirmed and whispered ‘I love you…’ her words floating across his skin. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but in her haze she had. Jamie’s grip tightened and his breath caught in his throat.

“Oh, Sassenach. Tha gaol agam ort.” His speech was stunted, scared almost. There was so much at stake. He’d allowed himself to become accustomed to her, to fall for her. His brain was working faster than ever. He did love her, but he also was a wanted a man on the brink of war with an English King. He couldn’t risk dragging her into this, couldn’t allow her to end up with a price on her head too, or worse. Dead. His heart almost stopped at the thought, and he clung to her. He’d have this moment, for her as much as for him.

He’d lain with her, taken her maidenhead. His da had rightfully told him that lying with a woman you loved was the most glorious experience, he hadn’t had that until now. But he’d also told him to never lie with a woman you weren’t prepared to take care of afterwards. At the back of his mind the little voice, the irrational one, begged him to run. Run with her and never look back. But he had men, men who were relying on him. Camped somewhere outside of Edinburgh, and he couldn’t simply turn his back on them either.

Her body, warm and pliant, finally lulled him to slumber. Her scent grounded him, but his dreams still had a haze of unease about them. Of blood and war, and of the woman who had now stolen his heart.