A new drabble has just been posted to ff and ao3 — very last minute on Valentine's Day. It is not entirely on theme for the occasion, but this is as sweet and fluffy as my writing is likely to ever get haha
It had been a long day, Robert couldn't deny it. At dinner, all he kept thinking about was the comfortable bed waiting here in their bedroom with the soft pillows and the warm down duvet — and not to forget his Cora next to him, too. But now that he had finally managed to excuse them from the drawing room, changed into his nightclothes quicker than ever and got into bed, he simply couldn't get to sleep. Cora had joined him on the bed as soon as her jewellery had been meticulously placed in the jewellery box on her dressing table and immediately scooted closer, her hand coming to rest on his chest like it always did. He knew instinctively she had been exhausted, too.
Surely, she was fast asleep by now, so he shouldn't bother her with this. But there in the dark bedroom, still half-sitting up in bed with his hand behind his head, he could not stop thinking of the words his mother had said that afternoon when he paid her a visit.
"Cora?" he quietly asked into the darkness against his better judgment, selfishly hoping that she was not fast asleep already.
Without moving or even opening her eyes, Cora only hummed sleepily in response, she had almost fallen to sleep.
She had sensed before that something was troubling Robert, he was not as talkative as he usually was in the evenings. Once he came in through the door to his dressing room, he had only taken off his robe and slid into bed immediately. She hadn't felt his eyes on her either while she was still taking off her rings, which was very rare for him. Clearly, something was bothering him, she should have known that sleep would not come easy that night — for either of them.
"Do you like me?" he whispered, staring into the darkness ahead.
At this, Cora finally moved. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked, turning around in bed to switch on the lamp on her bedside table, and then looked at her husband with a bewildered expression on her face. She had expected a lot, but certainly not this.
"Just that. Do you like me?" he repeated before he turned on his light as well.
Cora was sitting up in bed, propping herself up on her left arm and she looked quizzically at her husband when she said: "I don't understand where this is coming from?"
Robert sighed as he, too, turned on his side to face her more fully. "It's just something Mama told me from her and Isobel's rather scandalous rescue mission of Dickie a few days ago that I can't seem to forget."
He had hoped this explanation was enough for her to finally answer his question, as simple as he deemed it to be. However, her brows only furrowed further, and her head tilted to the side. "You saw Mama today, then? Because I've been meaning to ask. What was this mysterious mission about?"
"Apparently, Isobel realised that she indeed loves Dickie. She had not heard from him in a while and wanted to see how he was doing but was denied entry by his son and daughter-in-law. According to Mama, Amelia and Larry had been keeping Isobel from seeing him so they would not have to relinquish any possible claims to his estate. It all came to a head while we were at Brancaster when Mama took matters into her own hands, took Isobel and all but barged into Cavenham to get him out. Dickie had been entirely unaware of his family's plotting, and has now moved in with Isobel in the village. They are to be married soon," Robert explained as if he was just telling her about the weather forecast for the coming week.
Cora's eyes widened in shock. "That does sound quite scandalous, indeed! Why did Mary not mention any of this at dinner?" she asked.
"I don't think that Mary knew about this. Mama only said it was very recent and that she hadn't been up here since then. I can tell you, she was dying to finally tell this story. As much as she pretends to hate gossip, she sure likes to engage in some occasionally."
Cora chuckled lightly at Robert's statement and the truth behind it — the sound caused her husband to crack up as well.
"But Isobel and Dickie getting married after all? I am so happy for them!" Cora exclaimed excitedly, almost too loudly for Robert's liking. When she saw him wince at the sudden loudness, she added much more softly: "They are a well-suited pair, aren't they?".
When he didn't reply, she turned off her light again and slid back down in bed to lie next to Robert. He was still turned to face her, and her hand came up to play with the collar of his sleep shirt.
"I'd say they are," he said absent-mindedly. "But please answer me, Cora."
"Darling, I love you. We have been married for thirty-five years now, so by all accounts, why wouldn't I like you?" Cora's hand let go of his shirt and slid up his neck to cup his cheek, brushing over the light stubble on his jaw.
Robert closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. He loved these quiet moments when it was just the two of them and they could be as openly affectionate as they pleased. Usually, her touch calmed his frayed nerves almost immediately, taking his worries away one gentle caress at a time. But not that night; as much as he relished in it, his mind was still reeling, his thoughts revolved entirely around that one question. "That does not necessarily mean you like me."
"Robert, it is too late for that kind of nitpicking" Cora sighed and he could tell she was starting to get annoyed with him. "Can't we talk about this tomorrow? I have to attend the meeting at the hospital early tomorrow morning."
"Larry, as my son I love you, but I've tried and failed to like you. That is what Dickie said, according to Mama. And I think it not only pertains to their relationship. So many other couples like us can't stand each other or don't have much in common, and yet spend their entire lives together. I need to know, Cora. Because I not only love you with all my heart, but I also like you — very much. In fact, I liked you long before I loved you. But you always say you loved me from the start, so the question remains. Do you like me?"
Cora's hand stilled its motions. One look into his pleading eyes told her that he was truly worried about this, whether she liked him or not. To her, it was such a silly question for him to ask her. But this seemed to be so very important to him.
She smiled tenderly at him, her sleepy eyes staring deeply into his, and she said: "I doubt our marriage could have been as happy as it has been if we did not like each other, darling. I indeed loved you from the start, even before I really knew you. But we spent time together, we got to know each other — I firmly believe that I know you better than anyone else in the world, and you know me best, too. You are a part of me, Robert, you always will be. The things about you that I don't love, I like. And the things I don't like, I love. Easy as that. So yes, I do like you."
Robert breathed deeply, sighing nervously in relief shortly thereafter when her hand began to dance lightly across his cheek again. His right hand mirrored hers, while his left reached for her hand on his cheek and slowly brought it to his lips. He affectionately kissed her knuckles, letting his lips linger on her soft skin, but his eyes never left hers.
"Thank you for that, my dear," he breathed, watching her cheeks colour in the soft glow from the light behind him. "Now I shall let you have your deserved rest before tomorrow whisks you away from me to the hospital yet again."
Quickly, Robert turned off the lamp on his side of the bed as well and laid back down. He did not have to wait long for Cora to come close again. But instead of settling down, she pushed herself up one last time. Surprised by this, he put his hand on her shoulder and looked intently at her.
"You don't have to worry so much, Robert. I know this stems from the nature of the marriage agreement we first came to so many years ago, and you will likely never stop thinking and feeling guilty about it, but you and I have been happy together for so many years. We have been through unthinkable things together. Please, never doubt my love for you. And never doubt my liking you, either," she smiled, adding that last bit — not as an afterthought, but as a reassurance.
He smiled sheepishly at her while his fingers absent-mindedly played with the strap of her nightdress in the dark. "I'm sorry, darling. You are right, of course."
Cora only pressed a lingering kiss on his lips in response before settling down by his side with her hand and face resting on his chest again. Sleep did not evade him much longer, his mind now put at ease with the reassurance of his wife lying there next to him, who indeed liked him, very much so.
"I would not let you come and sleep next to me every night if I didn't like you," Cora whispered playfully into the darkness of the room after a while. And his wife was right, as she usually was. He knew she wouldn't. "I would also definitely not let you sleep with me, either."
Robert's head turned quickly to look at her — only he could not make out anything in the darkness. What he could feel, though, was her smirk against his chest, and he knew that she had been very deliberate in her choice of words. He would have to seek some form of revenge for the things she still managed to do to him whenever she pleased. But that would be a task for the next day. For now, they both just went to sleep in each other's arms.
#5 red for the colour prompt! Love these colour stories♥️
Thank you for the lovely prompt <3 You might have already forgotten this ask, but after an eternity, I finally wrote the red one-shot! It's set in s2 when they open up Downton Abbey as a convalescent home (s2e2/s2e3 I didn't do a rewatch, so please bear with possible inconsistencies). Other characters' POV on Cobert with eventual Cobert smut at the end <3
M-rated content in the last third :)
Red – Passion (& Energy)
The Dowager Countess sat at the dinner table at the Abbey. The world was moving especially fast lately, and Violet tried her best to move with it. The great bustle at Downton Abbey was certainly something that she had to get used to; it was too far from what she knew. Her daughter-in-law had made it very clear that the decision about the convalescent home didn’t lie with the older matriarch. I hesitate to remind you, but this is my house now, Robert’s and mine. And we will make the decision. She couldn’t think of a moment where her daughter-in-law had shown such force. Never had she put her foot down in that manner with Violet. It had stunned the Dowager.
As she looked at Cora across the table now, she realised that Cora had something she hadn’t. Something that gave her the determination to turn Downton Abbey into a convalescent home and do her part in the big war. Something that made her loudly counter the Dowager. Cora – the way her flawless alabaster skin was hugged by the dark dress, and her light eyes were wide in attention to take up everything her conversation partner said – had the energy of a young woman. Violet didn’t. She had other things to make up for it. The knowledge of decades witnessing the life at Downton Abbey, understanding people and knowing how they would act, knowing what was worth the effort. But the energy she saw in Cora, she didn’t have anymore. When she thought about it, she wasn’t sure if she had been like that when she had been Cora’s age. She didn’t see Cora as a particularly young woman. By God, she had three daughters of age. No, Violet hadn’t felt young and energetic at 46. But somehow, this was exactly what Cora was exuding. It wasn’t a nice thing to say, but Violet thought that the war was doing Cora good. She seemed to be the only one the war wasn’t ageing. She was probably choosing rightly with burdening herself with the convalescent home.
As Violet chewed on her piece of chicken breast without a great appetite, she kept her eyes on her daughter-in-law. The dark robe she wore was truly captivating. Violet found the ladies at Downton could pull off the newer fashions quite well. Not that she would wear it herself, but it complimented the younger ladies' features nicely. And apparently, Cora was still one of the younger ladies. The dark fabric – Violet wasn’t able to tell whether it was black or a really deep red – pulled attention to Cora’s wide neckline, and it was easy to get lost in the easily perceivable rise and fall of her creamy decolletage. Why would a married woman dress so close to the line of vulgarity? The Dowager Countess had to shake herself to notice she wasn’t the only one lost in Cora’s bosom. Her son next to her had slowed down his eating so much that it got suspicious the manner in which his eyes were glued to his wife’s chest.
Violet cleared her throat before she brought the next piece of chicken to her mouth and gladly, it was enough to pull her son from his stupor.
“Aren’t you spending too much on the women’s wardrobes for war times?” she asked Robert, her eyes directed at her plate instead of him.
“What? Do you think so?” he sounded confused.
“Apart from Sybil who keeps wearing the same dress, the girls and Cora are presenting new excesses of fashion daily.”
“It’s only the gowns for dinner, I think. And I am surprised you are mentioning your opposition to that. I thought you praised that upholding the customs and a proper lifestyle even in these times is our responsibility.”
“Yes, but it seems, contrary to the people in this house I know the right measure,” she quipped.
Cora’s head turned around and she looked at the two of them. They appeared to have attracted her attention. There was always this constant smile on her lips even if there was concern behind her forehead. Her earrings dangled bouncily from her ears. The ruby jewellery matched the necklace adorning her exposed neck, and still moved from the quick whip of her head. Like drops of deep red blood, the shining stones hovered a few centimetres from her unblemished skin.
Violet didn’t continue the short dispute with Robert. There was no need to get Cora involved in this marginal back and forth. The Dowager brought her glass of wine to her lips instead.
Cora’s look was merely directed at her husband now. The corners of her mouth twitched, and then it was over as quickly as it began. Cora touched her necklace with her fingertips, running them softly over the stones, before she picked up her knife again and said something unintelligible to Edith sitting to her left.
Violet wasn’t missing that her son still followed his wife’s every move. He seemed to have forgotten his food entirely. His cutlery was carelessly discarded on his plate. And he ignored his mother, whom he should entertain now as custom dictated, completely. Since she didn’t feel like discussing anything of little importance, she let him be and unwillingly found herself joining him in observing Cora.
O’Brien really did a brilliant job with these chocolate curls. The way just the right ones bounced at every nod of her head certainly added to the countess’s charm. Her face glowed with enthusiasm and her eyes were wide and awake, not all as tired as Violet certainly felt. As she thought for a second about her own tiredness, she had to stifle a yawn. She wasn’t one for long evenings anymore. Because her mind became lazy as jadedness overtook her body, Violet once again got caught up in the shiny rubies on Cora’s neck and head. The warm light of the candles got caught in them and bound Violet with the transfixing illusion they created. Cora’s occasional touch against the stones on her neck or how the ones hanging from her ears brushed her shoulders just where they were still bare made an impression on Violet that let her think there was something slightly erotic about it and she shouldn’t actually be watching. With delayed reactions, she finally tore her gaze from her daughter-in-law and a single look at her son confirmed her suspicions. There was something erotic about it. Robert’s mouth hung slightly open. The red reflections of the rubies sprinkled across his face. Violet saw him gulp as Cora let a laugh slip from her lips; a sound that wasn’t that common anymore since war had been declared. These were no times for laughter. But somehow Cora seemed to have found something that demanded such an openly happy reaction.
Eventually, it was enough for Violet. She rather briskly addressed Robert and implicitly forbade his ogling of his wife as she claimed the dinner conversation with him. If he and his wife wanted to be soppy and merry despite the gloomy times, they could do so in their private moments together, not at the dinner table. And if they weren’t strong enough to ensure it, Violet had to take care of it. Even if it wasn’t her house anymore. Some decisions still had to be made by her.
…
O’Brien tried to finish the steps of Her Ladyship’s nightly routine as quickly as possible. She was exhausted and still had to make some alterations on a few nightgowns. She didn’t want to be the last one leaving the servant’s hall this night, so she hurried the tasks in the Mercia bedroom.
Her Ladyship seemed to be in a good mood tonight. She didn’t appear nearly as exhausted as O’Brien felt but after all, she didn’t spend her day hardworking. Lady Grantham glowed just the same as when O’Brien had dressed her for dinner, her blue eyes full of life and somehow, O’Brien thought, with a cheeky glint in them. When O’Brien finally got her to sit at the dressing table, her deft fingers quickly took up the task of pulling the pins from the dark curls. Her intricate handiwork that had served for a short night was unravelled in an instant. Her Ladyship was imbued with a constant low hum. Only briefly, it was disrupted by a serious thought that instantly showed on her face. She then scrutinised herself in the mirror with a furrowed brow and a grave look in the eyes, her mind entirely elsewhere than as present as the intense stare indicated. And as quickly as these thoughts came, they went again.
O’Brien could only guess that the convalescent home was always in the back of her head. No wonder. This monstrous invasion of the house would weigh heavy on anyone’s mind. It was actually strange how light-hearted Her Ladyship still was a great deal of the time. But she was a very gullible person after all. She barely seemed to catch on to the gravity of the things, having only lived the most guarded way of life. Whenever she seemed to sense that something was more severe, though, she had a rather dramatic way of putting on a display of worry in her wide puppy eyes.
O’Brien sighed. Her Ladyship’s eyes met hers in the mirror.
“Is anything the matter, O’Brien?”
“No, it’s nothing, milady,” she quickly replied. “It’s just…” she hesitated, and sure enough Her Ladyship urged her with her look to elaborate. “I am worried the convalescent home will be a great burden on you and the house. It is very honourable and generous of you to provide your home for the greater good of the country. It just gives me a lot to worry about with so many strange men in your house.”
Another tress tumbled down onto Lady Grantham’s shoulder. She smiled at her maid.
“I understand why you’re worried and I appreciate how involved you are with the family’s wellbeing since you would not have to do that at all. It speaks well for you as an employee. But the convalescent home is going just perfectly fine. And there is no option to not do your part in the war. We have to supply what we can. So, we share our home with the ones in need.”
Strange how it was just so easy for the countess.
O’Brien bowed her head and ran her fingers over Her Ladyship’s scalp as the last pin was loosened.
“Yes, milady,” she mumbled into the dark hair and aimed at her goal of hurrying the process again. She made a few quick brushes through particularly tangled strands. Her Ladyship was twisting the ruby jewellery that she had just taken off her neck around her fingers, creating a ruby coil, that O’Brien already saw the necklace snap and the red stones dotting the floor before her inner eye. With a quick motion, she gathered the hair at the nape of Her Ladyship’s neck and stretched out her free arm to reach for the prepared red ribbon. Her eyes fell onto another red item that lay precariously just on the edge of the dressing table. Her Ladyship must have put it there herself because O’Brien couldn’t remember touching it.
It was a red little book, and O’Brien immediately tried to forget the booklet's title. She didn’t want to know these kinds of things. The title itself didn’t immediately allude to the ‘things’ discussed inside. But ‘Of Venturesome Philosophy’ didn’t appear for the first time in her Ladyship’s bedroom. One time, quite a few years ago, O’Brien had picked the red booklet up with the intention to put it away. Inadvertently, she had picked up the cover so that a random page had fallen open. A page that held an illustration O’Brien wouldn’t forget so quickly. She really didn’t need to know in which positions a man and woman could find themselves if the devil of savage creativity overtook them.
Now, the book was there again after it had gladly vanished for some years. O’Brien felt her fingers stiffen in the first waves of shock. She fumbled clumsily with the ribbon and had to brush the hair again as she didn’t manage to put on the ribbon properly.
Was this house really going down so completely now? Abasement of morality at every corner. Did the brutes of veterans maybe have a bad influence on Her Ladyship? Did she think it was alright to allow such uncivilised customs to take over because she saw the primitiveness of the ‘guests’ in her house?
However, O’Brien couldn’t do anything about it. It was a shame. Not that she cared greatly about Her Ladyship’s reputation or morals. She couldn’t care less about the decay of the family. But it irritated her greatly that her influence on Lady Grantham seemed to go null lately while others had much more control over her. She worked hard to hold sway over Her Ladyship, doing so much to gain her trust and be her confidante. What was she doing wrong?
“Did you manage to do the alterations I wanted?” Her Ladyship looked at the nightgown laying on a chair nearby.
“I’m afraid, not yet, milady. I wanted to do it tonight.”
“Oh, I see. That’s alright. Then I have to make do with…” she drew out the sentence in an inquiring tone, and O’Brien quickly leapt to the chair and held up the nightgown for Lady Grantham. It was rather light and had very short sleeves but O’Brien noticed Her Ladyship’s glance to the hem of the dress and assumed it was a bit too long for her liking.
“Alright. That is actually a nice one, isn’t it?” She rose from her seat at the dressing table.
O’Brien disliked these questions. “Yes, milady.” Putting the nightdress away again, she helped Her Ladyship undress, loosening the corset, taking off the skirts, unlacing the bodice, and finally pulling off the chemise. Lady Grantham’s creamy skin was bare before her and the dainty shoulders and back filled a great part of the maid’s vision. She noticed a bruise-like mark on her neck that hadn’t been there in the morning but she decided to better ignore it for now. Wishing to depart as soon as possible, she helped Her Ladyship into the nightgown.
“Is there anything else, milady?”
“I think that’s all. Goodnight, O’Brien.”
“Goodnight, milady.”
With the mahogany evening gown over her arm, O’Brien left the Mercia bedroom and took a deep breath once she closed the door behind her.
…
Everything tingled and prickled in him as her soft, soft skin glided over his. His hands roamed every part of her body he could reach to get as much of the velvety touch as possible. Her look from dinner was still a vision before his inner eye. The glint in her eyes as her look briefly brushed him. The touch of her fingertips to her neck where she traced the red shiny jewellery so tantalisingly. The hearty laugh that pulled the attention of the whole dinner party to her cherry lips. What had taken hold of her that today she was so seducing in everything she did?
Now, Robert sat with his back against the headboard. His clothes had been off him in no time as Cora quickly ensnarled him and drew her long fingers in stimulating patterns over his covered skin. Her position now in his lap, the nightgown thrown somewhere behind her, was the only reasonable position for her, Robert thought. His face was buried in her hair, and Cora, keeping her lips on the shell of his ear as best as she could while placing soft kisses there, made sounds that sent all his blood in an instant to his lap. She moved purposefully on top of him. He grunted into the tangles of her hair; her flowery scent clouding his senses. His lips searched her neck and connected with the tender skin he found there.
“So, what did you read tonight?” he groaned without lifting his head.
He had recognised the book immediately, even though she tried to push it into the drawer of her bedside table as soon as he turned the doorknob. The red cover was engrained on his brain. Immediate anticipatory excitement set in as Cora still stammered with red tips of her ears that it was only coincidentally that the book had fallen into her hands and that she had looked into it without any intentions. Her awkward reaction was the biggest giveaway that she had something planned indeed.
Robert wisely decided to not press the topic and merely reduce the distance between them. She would follow her plans soon and undoubtedly enough.
“You gave me no time to read anything,” she breathed, and her words were loud and hot with her lips directly at his ear.
Cora pulled back and took his face into her hands. Her thumbs rested on his cheeks; her little fingers hooked under his jaw. Her eyes assessed his face shortly, the big pupils growing even larger before her lips descended onto his. And even though she had just pulled him from the delicious perfumy warmth of her neck, Robert couldn’t fault her and was grateful for the taste of her plump lips. There was no way he could stop kissing her once he’d started. It was too addictive.
Her warm body pressed down on him. Robert couldn’t help the occasional involuntary jerk against her warm centre. His arms circled her as completely as possible and pulled her flush against him.
Her bottom lip between his teeth, he breathed, “I know that you have plans with me.”
Cora’s palms settled on his shoulders. Her chest struggled against his with every desperate breath she took. Robert released her lips and Cora rested her forehead against his, gasping open-mouthed. Her look was directed down between them and she didn’t answer. Robert tried to find her eyes so up close but there were just down-cast lids and flattering lashes.
“What do you want to do?” he prompted her, unsure if maybe she needed more reassurance.
“Uhm… I don’t know if it works,” she finally gave in; her voice a soft tone.
“Golly, what have you read there?”
She pulled back. The warm contact of her forehead breaking immediately left a cold sensation of loss on his skin. Cora still looked down. Her hands left his shoulders too and took up playing with each other’s thumbs. Robert kept his eyes firmly on her for the pleasing nude vision in front of him. His palms rested on her hips.
“I wanted to try something different, something new, because… I… I don’t really know why. But when I took a look into the… well, you know, I realised we already did quite many things. I don’t know if we really have to try the more… experimental ones.” At the end of her explanation, she looked up into his eyes and looked for his reaction.
“But would you like to? Because if so, then I’d say we try it. Your ideas have always been quite fun,” he smiled.
“Alright.” She shuffled on his lap; a smirk playing around her lips. Robert twitched at the sensations on his groin he was unprepared for. Cora sat back on his thighs and gave Robert some relief. Her direct look at him was more confident now.
As she spoke her fingers ran through the hairs on his chest, “For the one I saw, we wouldn’t necessarily need a bed,” Robert’s eyes grew wide, “at least I think,” Cora considered. “I’m still trying to understand it. And I’m not sure if it would work. It could be too straining on you,” she explained.
“Too straining?” Didn’t she think him capable? “Do you think I can’t do it?”
“No, I didn’t say that, but look,” she stretched to open the drawer of her bedside table while only barely lifting herself onto her knees. She rummaged in the drawer. “You’d have to hold me like this.” She flipped the pages of the red book, the many illustrations blurring in front of Robert’s eyes. As Cora found the page, she quickly put on her hands on the pictures he shouldn’t see. Cora was the keeper of the book. She gave Robert only the most necessary insights. One time, when the book had been quite new, Cora made the mistake of showing Robert the book openly. His first shock changed to confusion about the great variety. And his confusion didn’t make for a pleasing experience. It wasn’t smart to try it all once.
The illustration she now showed him portrayed a man in an upright position holding a woman on his hips, his hands on her backside, the woman wound erotically around him. Her leg was up high around his back.
“We can do this,” he quickly decided. It reminded him of the naughty things they had done on his desk on rare and desperate occasions. It was just, as Cora had said, that he had to carry her, instead of the desk doing this job. And the slightly different angle piqued Robert’s interest.
Cora’s eyes shone at his quick response. “Really?”
The book was tucked away a bit helplessly as Robert’s hands already distracted Cora and hazed her clear thoughts. Robert could immediately see the change in her eyes.
They soon found themselves in an aroused tangle, and the exact position didn’t matter primarily for their intimacy anymore. Still, Robert was determined to get them where Cora had wished them to be. He wouldn’t leave her wishes unsatisfied. But it was very hard to leave the bed when it all was already so nice and comfortable with his soft Cora in his arms. He indulged a while longer, her lips drinking the sweet nectar of pleasure from his and he gladly provided and reciprocated.
And then, he finally rose, pushed himself off her and the bed, and stood aroused at the edge of the bed. His dampened undergarments soon connected with the floor, and then he picked the flushed Cora who also struggled from her last garment and lifted her up. Her legs nestled to his body and locked around his hips. Cora hugged him tightly as her lips found his again in a fiery kiss. She was so close that it couldn’t compare to the position on his desk. Robert’s arms secured her to him, and he had to steel his resistance when Cora’s hot and wet centre dragged along his arousal. The mewl in her throat slopped into his mouth as her tongue pushed inside.
After a quick agreement, both of them desperately excited by now, Robert flexed his arm to lift her ever higher. Her wet lust dragged along his abdomen and he groaned. Her moans filled the small space between them. Then, he finally lowered her onto himself. Her nimble fingers shot down between them, gripped him gently and guided him inside.
The way they rode through pleasure then, filled Robert with the greatest sense of fulfilment. Yes, it was a challenging task that demanded all his muscle work to let her bounce so deliciously on him. But being needed so fully and completely – having to give his all – made his heart leap as highly as it had just been about to forget was possible.
“Robert,” she cried. And his urge intensified.
Only his name and variations of approving sounds were uttered by her. Robert focused his energy on his bodily performance. Merely silent groans accompanied his work.
Cora’s limbs were everywhere at once, and Robert tried not to lose his orientation completely. When the twist of her hips towards his doubled the pleasurable experience, they both fell into a simultaneous deep groan. The moment she pushed deliriously down on him, more pronounced words left her lips.
More an enlightened revelation on the brink of total bliss than a desperate demand, she called in euphoric laughter, “I need you, Robert.” She giving voice to his thoughts – that he was capable to give her exactly what she needed – made something in Robert snap, and he furiously rode through the hazy clouds of lust. Cora’s calls grew more distant and closer at the same time. And he spasmed into her as her whole body clamped around him.
She needed him.
It was the thought that accompanied him for the rest of the hazy night, after he fell weakly – with her in his arms – onto the bed again, as sleep was coming and going while she dreamed in deep unrousable slumber in his arms and by his side, the certainty that with her, he had a purpose to serve – an important one he fulfilled successfully – gave him complete peace of mind for this night.
...
if you want to send another prompt, here is the prompt list: Colour symbol prompts
Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character trying to calm another down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]
-
Robert sat open mouthed at the scene that just occurred. As usual, his mother had been unkind towards Cora and as usual Robert had said nothing- hell his sister said more then he did.
The room was silent, you could hear every breath everyone made till finally the silence was broke by Rosamund’s slap to her brothers head.
“Go after her You fool-“
Robert regained his senses and stood, chair scraping across the floor as he pointed at his mother “Don’t think this over how DARE you talk to my wife like that night after night it’s enough now.” And with that he turned on his heel and walked out.
“CORA??” He ran across the house and into the garden’s where he found a weeping Cora.
“Oh Cora-“
Cora spun around in panic wiping her eyes. “I’m so sorry Robert, I shouldn’t of lashed out I am just so tired of being a laughing stick to your family I’m trying so hard-“ she continued to ramble but Robert enveloped her in a hug and she melted in his arms words turning into quiet sobs.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. I love You, i love You so much I shouldn’t of just stood by I love you and I won’t let it happen again.”
Cora drew back and stared at him “you…you love me?”
Robert nodded and kissed her lips gently, “yes, yes I do.”
A smile graced her lips. “Somehow those three words just possibly made me feel better then I thought possible.”
the hot cobert summer challenge things are almost due, but i think i might be almost finished with mine and i decided to experiment with another one ;)
i think i've never had much practice actually putting feelings into words, so i played around with this, it actually has no plot or anything very sensible around it, but they're FEELINGS right, they're not SUPPOSED to make sense
this is set right after the lovely little cobert scene we had in da2 (you know which one i'm talking about)
• ° + ° • ° • ° + ° • ° •
His heart was pounding, still. The scene seemed to replay in his head, again and again and again. He could see the way she had cupped his face, could see the sparkle of tears in her eyes, blurred by his own. He could almost feel her lips on his for a brief second.
There was a word for that. What was it?
He could feel how much it hurt. How much it still hurt. He didn't think anything could feel like this, and he'd had his fair share of negative emotions. It was like something had dropped with a thud out of his heart, leaving a gaping chasm behind.
It had happened so quickly. Now they were walking back in silence, each pondering their own thoughts. The light from the party cast a glow on everything around them, twinkling on Cora's dress, illuminating the pebbles in the road. She looked angelic, with her blue eyes watching the tiny people in the distance.
For a second, he wondered if she was just a dream.
"Cora." He had said her name without thinking. She turned to him, and the words tumbled out of his mouth. "Cora, don't leave me. Please."
That word, that feeling again.
The seconds ticked past, and the music wafted over them from far away. It felt like forever before she spoke, moving closer to him, taking his hands in hers. The gesture was familiar, she had done it countless times, but this time it felt different.
"I don't want to."
Robert could feel the tears burning his eyes. He blinked them away as the smallest of smiles appeared on her face. Sad, but sweet.
Absolutely no one asked for this. Well, @crawleyfan prompted me with “I don’t know what scares me more, the fact that one day you might ask me to leave, or that I love you so much that I would leave immediately to keep you happy.” Or I was scared to admit that I had started loving you because it would mean admitting that I would never stop.” for Cobert
I’m sure it was a different direction than this, but oh well. FOR COBERT. Also, yeah, yeah I know you didn’t ask for this. Humor me.
*If you want more context, read this. And if you wanna prompt me something, you can choose from this.
“I was scared to admit that I had started loving you because it would mean admitting that I would never stop.”
The admission comes as a surprise, and she hadn’t really seen that coming. It’s been years since the divorce, months since Mary’s wedding, and they had been back to their normal lives, or at least what constitutes as normal these days, with the ghost of his lips pressed against her skin haunts her at night and brought back memories she’s tried so much to bury because she knows they’re nothing more than that – bittersweet memories of yesteryear that serve no purpose other than hurt her and make her pine for what she can no longer ever have.
It’s hard, such as the life of a woman scorned but still secretly in love with the same man whose cruel hand held her heart and crushed it until it was nothing but ashes. She tries to forget, tries to tell herself that she’s nothing but a mere idiot to feel this way, but it’s fine because familiarity is on tricky motherfucker, and sure feelings resurface, but that’s just because she’s had them for so long. It’s impossible to stop loving someone you have loved for so long, although the longing does fade in time. Settling comes next, and then acceptance comes in second, and it all becomes better – somehow, anyhow.
And she has pretty much accepted her fate, that knowledge that had come with loving him for so long had equipped her with a heart of acceptance, and she’s settled with the life of loneliness and the bitterness of an ex wife who had once given her husband her all, only for him to turn around when the next bimbo in town came on to him.
So she had caved in when she’d been in her daughter’s wedding, had let him have his way with her, and had let herself have her way with him. Nostalgia and melancholy are ever the bitches that sucked her in, but that’s okay. Yes, that okay turns into nothing but desperation when faced with such situation – she surmises.
“What are you talking about?” she says back when she finally regains control of her bearings, and she looks up at him with disbelief and scepticism she had, unknowingly, reserved for this very moment.
She thought their moment had been over, very much over.
True, he’d tried to contact her multiple times since their little tryst, but she – unlike him – understood what it means to go back to our normal lives and live as though nothing happened. She doesn’t, didn’t, want to entangle herself further into him. Time for nostalgia and melancholy is over.
“I wanted to tell you before you left,” he says without missing a beat, and he enters into her office without invitation, not that he needed anymore when he had come bursting in, despite the protestations of Cora’s trusty assistant - Phyllis – and he’d had some sort of awkward declaration that had sent poor Baxter hiding behind her desk, jumping to do something else to make it less awkward for Cora
Not that it’s possible, with the way Robert is awkwardly hunched over her door, looking wild and rugged in his white shirt and black trousers. His hair is tousled and he looks like he might not have slept for a while, the bags under his eyes are as purple as they can be.
“Robert,” she sighs, placing the documents she’s been holding down on her desk so she can assume a position of woman with patience though she is supremely lacking – whatever. “What on earth are you on about? And what on earth are you doing here?”
He shakes his head wildly as he makes large steps towards her desk. He is frightening her, but she doesn’t let him know that, doesn’t let it show in the way she sits and looks at him directly – bright blue eyes staring at him directly and willing him to bow down.
“I can’t forget it, I can’t go back to the way it was before Mary’s wedding, I have tried...” he trails off and he looks manic, looks like he’s desperate and there’s a space in Cora’s heart that throbs for him, but her ears and her mind hear what he wants, and nope, no.
“Well you have to,” she tells him in no uncertain terms. “It was...nice and familiar and I don’t regret it happening, but it isn’t going to happen again. We agreed, Robert. You and I agreed that it was a – one time thing? – dalliance, for a lack of better word and we agreed that it was not going to continue once we move back to our normal lives.”
He looks at her and there’s something about his blue eyes, something wild and something desperate, and she isn’t sure what to make of it. It is a side of him that she doesn’t know or understand, and she remains quiet as she tries to gauge him. She purses her lips and stands her ground. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake again.
“I want to, I want to go back and...The only thing that kept me from saying I love you, that I had started loving you again...hell that I have never stopped loving you, was the knowledge that I wouldn’t know what to stop.” He paused, his eyes turn imploring. “Can you look me in the eye and say that it didn’t change anything for you – that our time together didn’t change the last few years of anonymity and...it was pure hell, Cora, living without you. Don’t tell me that the time we had together is not our second chance at this thing.”
My life was hell without you, too, but I don’t know if I can trust you again.
She wants to say the words, wants to tell him she wants to come back to him too, but she can’t trust him, and telling him that would give him ammunition to talk her out of something and into another thing.
“Nothing can change the last few years, Robert,” she says without emotion, trying very hard not to cry or tremble or show him how much she wants to stop being bitter and just start living the life they once promised each other.
But a few nights of pleasure could never take away the pain of what he had done to her.
“You can’t waltz in here and talk me into...Nothing can undo the pain you’ve caused me when you decided to throw our vows out the window and screwed your secretary!” she bellows and the carefully placed mask she had slips completely off her face. She is trembling and her fists are clenched and she is looking at him, somewhat dangerously.
“I –“ he starts but she doesn’t let him.
“Don’t you dare you’re sorry,” she tells him angrily. She doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want to hear him say he’s sorry because it doesn’t change anything to her, doesn’t erase the last few months of their marriage when she had suffered from the pain of knowing her husband no longer wanted her, or the last few years when she had to live with the aftermath of their divorce. “You shouldn’t say what you don’t mean. You’re not sorry, Robert. At least not for what I need you to be sorry for. You’re only sorry because you now want what you’re not allowed to have!”
She is truly angry now, the words she’d longed to say to him for so long now brimming. She’s frothing at the mouth to lash out, to hurt him even just a tiny fraction of how he’d hurt her, all the times they’d been together at Mary’s wedding be damned.
“You can’t change what has happened before and you cannot undo the hurt you’ve caused.” She stands up and walks to the door, her steps are heavy and angry and her posture could not possibly mean anything but. She shakes her head at him. “Once upon a long time ago, I didn’t know what scared me more, the fact that one day you might ask me to leave, or that I love you so much that I would leave immediately to keep you happy.”
She opens the door and gestures for him to go out. He’s speechless, even as he walks slowly towards the door, his head hung low. Maybe, words are no longer needed after all.
“I guess I had been too focused on loving you that I forgot to be scared of the moment I no longer do.” She turns her head away from him. “Goodbye, Robert.”
She’s proud of herself, proud of how well she managed to stand her ground. But when the door closes and she’s left alone, she sinks into the floor and cries.
Oooo "I don't need a lot to be happy" sounds very intriguing!
Haven't worked on this one in a while, but I am kinda glad you asked for it. I might actually finish it soon-ish now that it is back on the table.
I´ll give you a snippet from the beginning :)
Dearest Papa,
We sincerely hope you are somewhere safe and not getting yourself in danger.
Mama just told us we could write a few lines and put them into her envelope to be sent to you along with her letter, but we do not have much time.
All of us miss you so terribly much and we cannot wait for the next time you get home on leave. It seems like we have already forgotten what you look like — Edith and I have had quite the argument about the colour of your hair. She says it is dark blond, while I think your hair is light brown. You do need to settle this for us, so please come home soon!
Mama has not been feeling too well since the last time you were home to see us. Ever since you left again, she has been in her room for most of her days and has not taken much interest in anything apart from tea with us and Granny occasionally. She looks so awfully, awfully sad all the time and we have not managed to cheer her up for long. Edith and I even played the piano and sang for her while Sybil danced!
Granny said that she is worried about Mama's lack of interest, and I have never seen her look so concerned.
Please, come home very soon, Papa!
That is all we wish for.
Promise us to please stay safe and think of us every once in a while.
Thanks for the prompt @whydidnttheyaskcora <3 I hope you enjoy what I made of it, dear <3
Here is the blue colour chapter with the symbols of trust, loyalty, and security. Post-canon. Cora receives her treatment, and Robert doesn't leave her side.
if you want to send another prompt, here is the prompt list: Colour symbol prompts
After an actual year, I'm finally answering your ask, anon. Thanks for your patience <3 (and to the other Colour symbol prompts sitting in my inbox, I see you. I'm just slow)
#10 - Green – Health, Safety, Harmony
1896
She breathed a sigh of contentment. On the wide bench, they only took up a fraction of the space. Cora had opted to scoot even closer than usual and disregard custom completely. She felt Robert’s warm body pressed to her side and it was the cause for the complete relaxation that enveloped her.
It was late spring and the ideal weather for one of their extended morning walks. Cora was filled with a sense of joviality. After a long while, she finally felt healthy and strong again. The long walk over the greening estate posed no obstacle for her anymore after she had been so constricted and weak for so many months. The pregnancy with Sybil hadn’t been quite so easy on her body as the two before, where her youth had probably helped her compensate for the extreme conditions her body was put through. And then the strugglesome birth followed, and with a healthy bundle of joy in the house that Sybil was, Cora fell into a series of illness-ridden weeks and months. Struggling to find foot again in a world of the living and healthy, Cora was tied to the bed and began fearing that this – being a regular on the doctor’s schedule and never seeing her daughters but for a few minutes when they reverently paid her a visit in her sickroom – would be her future.
Today, this thought seemed to be so far it felt like another lifetime, and still, there wasn’t a day where she didn’t think how different her life could be if she was a little less lucky.
She put her palm on Robert’s elbow joint and took a deep breath. Oh, she was so lucky! She turned her head to the side and took in Robert’s profile. He was a handsome man with his strong jaw, the straight nose, and kind eyes. His dark-green felted hat threw a sharp shadow on his forehead, and Cora strained her eyes to make out his expression.
Robert felt her attention and looked at her, too. He put his warm hand over hers in the crook of his arm and his look was soft.
“It is a nice day,” he stated.
“Yes. Indeed.”
“Do you want to continue our walk?” he asked. “I got lost in my thoughts, I’m afraid. We sat here for a while already.”
“It is absolutely all right. I do not mind the rest.” Cora leaned her head against his shoulder. Only cautiously, for their hats didn’t allow the tight embraces that Cora preferred for moments in private.
Robert kept his straight and strong posture. He took a few seconds before he answered. “It was too much, too straining,” his voice was grave. “I should have known it. You should have said something, Cora.”
“No!” she made clear before she lifted her head again. With wide eyes, she looked at him piercingly. He had to believe her. “It was not too much at all. I am very happy we took the longer route today. I missed it.”
Robert’s look was sceptical still. There was an expression of worry etched across his face. Only a faint smile ran over his face when she said that she had missed it.
“Robert, you have to believe that I am not sick anymore. The doctor told you so, and I tell you, too. I am fine. I am healthy and don’t need to be treated differently or spared anything.” She took his hands. They were so warm and strong. And for the first time in a long, hers were warm too. And maybe strong. She smiled. Squeezing his hands, she added, “Let us be happy. Everything is alright again.”
He returned her smile. Not taking his eyes off her, he rubbed her hands and seemed to enjoy just looking at her so close in front of him. They were happy. Cora could clearly see it in Robert’s eyes. The way he held her hands, Cora felt completely safe after living in unspoken fear – the thought of an uncertain future ever-present – for the last half year. His touch grounded her. It was not primarily that she felt his hand in hers. His touch was not the concerned brush over her perspiring brow anymore; it was not the cautious and so ginger grip around her fingers she could barely lift herself. She felt a confidence in his touch now, a certain trust in her strength. At the same time, it told her, he was there for her and he also acknowledged her sanguine state.
A light breeze brushed around them as one. Sitting so close, the wind didn’t distinguish them as two people. Cora held onto Robert’s hands and looked around them. The plants were in bloom and were all painted in the lushest greens. Spring was her favourite season for a reason. She liked how everything was so fresh in spring and that in spring, it felt like everything was possible. She liked the lavish splendour of English nature. If it was up to her, she wouldn’t let Robert go after their morning walks, especially during these beautiful spring days. She would stay outside in the green with him all day. And if she was at it, she’d also take the girls with her. This thought brought her the greatest joy. One day, she should do it. Though, she always postponed it when she remembered the resistance she would face. Brushing these thoughts away, she took a deep inhale (or as deep as her corsetry allowed) of the nectary air that came from the cherry trees nearby. She only realised she was grinning widely, exposing her teeth, when Robert’s soft voice broke the serene silence.
“Are you enjoying it?”
She nodded. “Yes. I knew why I married an Englishman with a beautiful estate.” A cherry blossom landed on the brim of Robert’s hat. The pale pink on the moss green felt caught Cora’s eye. She extricated one hand from Robert’s grip and reached up to his hat to carefully take the blossom.
“So, it was not the title after all,” Robert said.
Cora tipped her head to the side to give him a look of mock annoyance but all she managed was an adoring glare. Now, they were able to joke about what made their first year so rocky, and that was what made Cora happiest about the short exchange. Their love and harmony were such a matter of course that there was no room for doubt. Not between them. And not for anyone looking upon their marriage. Lord and Lady Downton, Robert and Cora, were an enamoured couple, and everyone knew it.
They could easily joke about their unconventional start. “It was only about the estate,” Cora looked into the blooming trees behind her as she finally tore her eyes from her husband. “I could not have cared less about who Lord Downton was,” she teased. It was far from the truth.
“Oh, really?” His tone held little credulity.
“I didn’t even know whether he was blonde or bald when I agreed to marry him,” Cora continued the non-sensical farce she made up.
“I believe you were in for quite the shock then, when you had to walk down the aisle.” Robert played along. Cora had to hold in a grin as she happily noticed him humouring her. Her eyes were still directed at a faraway point opposite from him. Her hand lay loosely in his palm as she feigned to leisurely muster the rose garden with no interest in her conversation partner.
“Oh, I didn’t expect him to be a dodderer but marrying an old man is all right if he has such nice rose gardens and orchards to offer.”
“Cora, I’m three years older!” He eventually lost his countenance.
She turned to him laughingly. His upset face amused her. Of course, he was no old man at all. He had the appearance of a young boy much more often, in fact.
Just when she was about to put in an appeasing word, she saw Nanny coming down the gravel path behind Robert. Apparently, she was using the nice weather to take Sybil on a walk. The white pushchair attracted all of Cora’s attention, and she forgot everything they were talking about as it rolled toward them. Her little Sybil.
Robert noticed Cora’s attention and look wandering off and turned around to see what was occupying her.
When the nanny was approaching them, she was slowing down a bit and smiled unsurely at her employers. She seemed unsure whether she had to interrupt her walk with the little girl in the pushchair. Cora didn’t leave her wondering long.
“Nanny Evans. How is our little Sybil doing?”
She pulled her hands into her lap and ignored the fact that she was still sitting too close to her husband.
The nanny halted next to the bench and answered dutifully, “She is doing very well, milady. She’s a real sunshine today again. But she always is.”
Cora smiled. She really was. Her little Sybil was such a joy.
“Are we interfering severely with your walk, Nanny?” Cora asked.
“Of course not, milady.”
“I wouldn’t want to disturb your schedule, but I would love to have a little time with her.” Cora craned her neck to glance into the pushchair, without success.
“Very well, my lady,” Nanny said but she didn’t seem to know what to do with Cora’s wish. Eventually, she steered the pushchair onto the lawn and in front of the bench. Then, she awkwardly waited next to the baby for what would happen.
“Could you leave her with us? We would bring her back inside in a few minutes,” Cora clarified.
Nanny Evans bowed her head and retreated to the path. “My lady. My lord.”
As the nanny walked back to the house, Cora stood up and approached the white pushchair. Euphoric joy rushed through her veins. To have her little girl so close and to herself for once. The soft cooing coming from the pushchair put her in even more anticipation and it gave her breasts a light tweak. But she was no wetnurse. She knew it, just her body didn’t.
Once she bent over the sheltered basket, the familiar big blue eyes stared up at her with so much curiosity and serenity. Cora’s face broke into a big smile. Sybil had her little fist in her mouth and didn’t let herself be bothered but continued gnawing at her own hand. Cora remembered that the nanny mentioned yesterday that Sybil might be teething.
“Hello, my little angel. Hm, baby girl? Did Mama nip more ‘Sybil time’?” she cooed at her baby. With big eyes, Sybil looked up at her without blinking, and Cora saw the green treetops reflecting in Sybil’s eyes. “Come here, my dear,” she breathed as she picked her up. She sat back down next to Robert, with Sybil on her lap.
“You are very forward,” he mentioned, referring to the exchange with the nanny.
She ignored him and brushed over Sybil’s dark shock of hair with one hand. The other held the soft baby belly close to her own body.
“Your Papa is also very happy to have you with us now,” she said down to Sybil.
“Yes. I am,” he insisted to make Cora believe him. She looked up and smiled at Robert. Then, she extended her free hand and he took it. “I am,” he repeated in a softer tone and his eyes got lost in Sybil’s curious stare. Cautiously, he put the index finger of his other hand forward and nudged the chubby fist of Sybil that wasn’t buried in her cheek. After a while, the little girl opened her fist and grabbed her father’s finger with determination. Her cooing sounds bubbled past her drool-covered hand and grew into more pointed articulations directed at Robert. She started rocking in Cora’s lap as if she tried to bob closer to Robert.
Robert’s placid expression turned into one of confusion. He looked up at Cora questioningly. “What does she mean? What does she want?”
Cora chuckled. “She is happy to see you.”
Robert didn’t seem to be convinced by her answer. “She could just smile then, couldn’t she?”
“You sound just like your mother or Rosamund,” Cora noticed. “She is happy, Robert. I don’t only smile either when I am happy to see. There is nothing wrong with being expressive.”
Robert looked at Cora as he considered her words. He mustered her face and got a thoughtful expression before Cora saw realisation dawn on his face. He smiled.
“No, there is nothing wrong with it.” He pulled his hand out of her grip and brushed his knuckle over her cheek.
“Now you hold her.”
Her demand seemed to come rather unexpectedly for him. He looked surprised. “Why? You two look quite nice.”
“Come on. You would make her even happier.”
“Maybe I would make you happier,” he remarked.
She only looked at him challengingly and nearly immediately saw him yield.
He seemed a little apprehensive when Cora transferred the baby onto his lap, but he did quite well. After all, it wasn’t the first time he held a baby. Cora realised it wasn’t such a regular occasion either, though.
Robert and Sybil quickly warmed up to the new situation. It turned out to not only be Cora’s fault they were getting back to the house late.
...
if you want to send another prompt, here is the prompt list: Colour symbol prompts
