#hello. ken has broken into your home. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qtsickchiq · 3 years

Text

SOMEBODY TO YOU

with Ken Ryuuguji

To lose someone he love is to tear his world apart. Losing someone is like losing hope of having a sane life, when he’s standing at the edge of sanity. It is like walking up to the stairs to his bedroom in the dark and thinking that there is one more stair than there is. His foots falls down, through the air, and there’s a sickly moment of dark surprise as he try and readjust the way he thought of things. He tries to pull himself together but the cuts stay fresh forever.

“It has been 12 years….”

“It is alright, Draken. You can cry I’m right here. Always here for you.” You whisper, taking a seat beside him.

“It has been 12 years since Emma’s death.” Draken swallows the lump in his throat, looking up at the night sky.

“I know.”

You met Ryuguji Ken during your middle school years. It was the first day on your new school when you accidentally bumped into the tall blonde man who was walking at the hallway with his short friend.

“Watch out where you’re going.”

“I’m sorry.” You whine as you rub the back of your neck nervously, eyebrows pulled together in a clear show of apology.

“It’s fine. Are you alright though?” He asked concern in his eyes as he stared at you.

You still remember the moment as if it was yesterday. Ever since that day, you would greet him every time you bump into him, giving him a smile and a wave. It didn’t take long for you to start hanging out with him and Mikey. You stay friend with him throughout the years. Honestly, you have been in love with him ever since you met him but a thought of confessing to him never crossed your mind. He loves Emma and Emma loves him. Draken only see you as his friend and not more than that. You respect that hence the reason you push away the thought of confessing your feeling to him.

You were there with him after Emma’s funeral, comforting him and letting him your shoulders to cry on. When Mikey left him, you were there to pick him up and snap him out of his dissociation. You’ve always been with him throughout these years. Draken always show his smile and his strong personality when he’s with his friends. But you could see past that, you could see a lot of pain behind his eyes, and notice the brokenness in his smile. You have seen him crying countless time and you don’t mind it. He has no one left and he needs you. It’s too hard for him to bear the pain of losing someone he love. You would accompany him to visit Emma’s grave anytime he needs. Whenever he needs a shoulder to cry on, with only one call away and you’re already there with him.

Draken has tried to do so many things in order for him to move on with life. He has met several women in his life and numerous one night stands but it seems like all of them doesn’t work very well with him. You tried your best to be there for him when he needs you. You would stop by his bike shop to pass him lunches. You are so used to accidentally interrupted Draken with his make out sessions with any random woman at the bike shop.

“Hey Draken, I got your favouri- HEY what the hell?” You quickly turn away closing your eyes with both of your hands. Your face turns bright red from seeing the scene before you.

“Ah Y/n, Just put them on the table there.” He smirks, waving his hand to the woman earlier signing her to leave, while readjusting his collar. You only able nod and smile to the woman as you see her leaving the shop in a hurry. That must be awkward as hell.

It breaks your heart too. No matter how hard you tried to be strong for him, you’re human too and human has feelings. You wish for him to open up to you and give you a chance to be yours. But you quickly push your thoughts away. Who are you again? Yes, you’re his friend. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable with you. You can’t bear losing him in your life. He’s your best friend. Draken has always been there with you from graduating school and to where you are standing now. You can’t imagine a day without seeing him. It’s better this way right? Right?

You are snuggling under your comforter with your hands busy pressing the buttons on the controller of your video game. Suddenly, you phone start ringing. You glance to the device next to you to see who the caller is only to see it was Inui. ‘It must be something related to Draken’ you thought to yourself.

Your brows are knitted upwards in the centre, concern written all over your face as you press the answer button, “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, Draken is drunk. He keeps on mentioning your name. Sorry but would you mind coming over here and pick him up?” You could hear the loud music booming from the other line. You waste no time as you hurriedly slips on your jacket and ran towards the bar they are having drinks at.

“Oh y/n~ my… hic… my favourite person…is here.” Draken grin widely when he sees you running towards him with Chifuyu and Mitsuya holding him side by side. You catch him in your arms before he stumbles forward.

“I’m so sorry about this.” You bow your head to the men in front of you.

“Please don’t bother about this. We were the one who insisted him to drink tonight.” Mitsuya chuckles as he helps you to drag Draken away from the bar.

The moment he blinks your eyes he’s already in your bedroom. A frown on his lips and brows furrowed. “Y/n, what happened?” He sat up in the bed and look around, with his hand rubbing his head to ease the throbbing in his temples

“You passed out so the boys have to drag you here.” You passed him a glass of water. “You look horrible.” Only worry remains on your face. You reach up a hand to caress his face.

He took a sip of the drink. He let out a heavy sigh. “I see Emma.” He mumbles rubbing his forehead. Your eyes are wide open. “I thought you were Emma.”

Your heart reacts before your brain can fully process his words. You almost feel your heart drop. You can feel your eyes are filling with tears, your lower lip trembles. God, give me strength to bear this. I’m human too. You pray to yourself.

Draken flinch when he saw you tearing up, “Shit- what’s wrong y/n?”

“Why is it always her?” You mumble under your breath, your fist tighten around your dress.

Draken turn his head to face you. He raises a brow, trying to catch the things you were saying. “What are you talking about?” He stops, eyes wide staring at you.

“Draken, have you ever thought of me in your heart?” You whimpered, tears start rolling down on your cheeks. Fuck what am I saying?

“What the-” his sentence is being cut off when you suddenly push you lips to his.

You took a deep breath as you hold his face in your hands. “I love you Draken, I love you so much.”

“Wait- I can’t.” His troubled gaze came back to your face.

“Emma is gone. You deserve happiness too. Why are you doing this to yourself?” You brush your knuckle under the redness of his swollen eyes. “Please look at me too. Let me be in your heart too.” You pulled him closer in your arms, burying your face in his chest. “All I want to be is somebody to you.”

Draken gently push you away. “I’m sorry.” He gets up from you bed heading straight the door without even glancing back to you. The moment he leaves, you stare blankly at the wall. You began to cry, you sob muffled as you leaned forward against your arms, hugging your knees. “Why did I do that?” you murmur to yourself. Draken let out a heavy sigh as he plops down in front of your house door. “Shit” he curses while ruffling his hair, hands slightly trembling. He loves you too, but he can’t do that fearing that he’ll lose you too. He had enough. Everyone he ever loved ended up hurt or dead.

How many days has it been now since he last saw you? He lost count already. He sighs as he put down the wrench he’s holding and staring straight at the bike in front him. You haven’t come to see him at all since that day, he missed you. Of course, there’s no way you would come and see him now. He hurts you.

A voice greets him from behind, “Hey.” He turns his head to see Mitsuya standing there.

“Oh Mitsuya, what’s up man?” He gets up from his position, wiping the dirt on his hands with a towel.

“I was talking to you just now but it seems like you’re busy in your own thought.” Mitsuya give a curious stare at him, brows knitted together before a grin emerged on his face

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t hear you earlier.” Draken shrugs, running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine, anyway are you okay? Inui told me that you have been staring a lot lately.” His brows creased in worry. He pulls one of the chairs at the workshop as he sits crossing his legs facing Draken.

Draken takes a seat beside the lilac hair man. Letting out a heavy sigh as he continues telling Mitsuya the whole shits that has been going through his mind. Mitsuya is focusing himself with the whole story, sometimes his lips part open from the story. “And she has been ignoring me now. It’s my fault anyway.”

A scowl appeared on Mitsuya’s face, “You mean that all these years she-”

“Yeah.” Draken bows his head, staring down. It was as if his head was heavier than usual.

Mitsuya places a hand on his shoulder, “She love you deeply man.” He raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “Man, I have to tell you this. You deserve happiness too.” Draken lifts up his head, his gaze met Mitsuya’s. “I believe Emma thought the same way too.” Mitsuya grins as he continues, “It’s never too late.”

Draken tried calling your number but only your voicemails greet him. “Shit y/n I’m so sorry, please pick up the phone, I need to talk to you.” He sighs wishing that you would hear his voicemails. It’s fine if you hate him, but he needs one more chance to tell you everything, just one more chance. After that, he’s fine if you decided to leave him. It’s his fault anyway. He can’t help but to pace back and forth, biting his lips. He wastes no time as he grabs his motorcycle keys.

You are walking down from the train station, on your way home from your office. You sigh as you check your phone looking at the amount of missed calls and voicemails coming from him. It has been days since you last saw him. You missed him too, but you were too ashamed to show yourself in front of him after what you’ve done. You accidentally confessed to him out of nowhere and what even worse is, you forced your kiss to him. AAAAAAA you scream to yourself as you slaps both of your cheeks hard making the other people at the station staring at you with a confuse look. There is a mother pulling her daughter closer to avoid you. You rubs you red cheeks as you huff your cheeks and lips forming a pout. You can’t face him now. “I would rather dig my own grave rather than seeing him now.” You mumble to yourself.

“Found you.” You have never ever turned you head as quickly as this time. You can hear a snap from your neck. Ouch. There he is landing his back on his bike behind you with a smirk on his face. God, why are you doing this to me? Am I not being nice in my life? Is this the punishment I deserve after what I’ve done?

Your brows knitted together, “How- how did you-” You point your finger to him, trembling as he walks towards you with hands in both of his pockets.

“I can hear your screaming from there. Why are you acting like you are seeing a ghost?”

You quickly turn your body and decided to run for your life, with your heels? Yes with your freaking heels. But before you are able to sprint away from him, you can feel his big hand holding you waist gently pulling you closer to him.

“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, please let me go!” You scream, trying to push away his grip from you.

A deep furrow ran across his forehead, gaze trailing down to you. “What the fuck are you saying?” He is damn confused now.

You place your suitcase on top of your face, in hoping to shield your bright red face from his stares. “I didn’t mean to say that. Please forget everything I’ve said before.”

“What- I’m glad you said that.” He lets out chuckles as he pushes away your suitcase from your face. He rubs your red cheeks gently, “I’m sorry for hurting you before.” You narrowed your brows at him. He pulls your face gently to his, “It’s not like I hate you anything. It’s just that I feel like I don’t deserve anyone in my life.” He sighs. “I love you too, but I still think of Emma sometimes and I’m sorry.”

“I’ll wait for you. You don’t have to feel sorry. Take as long time you need.” He freezes. You took a deep breath. “I mean after all I’ve been waiting for years already.” You whisper as you look down at your feet while twiddling with your own fingers. He arched a brown in amusement and let out giggles as he stares at you.

“I know and I’m sorry.” You can feel his fingers sliding down to your hair, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ears. “But, you’re indeed special to me and I can’t bear to lose someone in my life again. You have been a wonderful girl to me ever since the time that I have known you.” He continued as his intense gaze fixed on you. The you he now loves, the you who is always there for him and the you he promises himself to protect. “You are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” You can feel the tears start to fall down on your warm cheeks. His arm is sneaking around you waist gently to hold you closer to him “That’s my reply to your confession that night.” His lips slowly curving up into a smile as his warm lips brushed your forehead, peppering it with kisses.

“I love you, Draken.” You began to cry, you sob muffled in his chest.

“I know.”

“But, I love- I love you so much.”

He lands his forehead to yours and gently wipes away your tears with his fingers. “I know. I love you too.”

yours truly @qtsickchiq

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #ken ryuuguji x reader #ryuguji ken x reader #draken #draken x reader #ken ryuuguji #draken x y/n #tokyo manji revengers #Tokyo Revengers #tokrev #tokyo manji gang

228 notes · View notes

magnoliasinbloom · 3 years

Text

Lie To Me - 15

AO3 :: Previously

It’s been five days since Jamie was discharged from the hospital. Two days of antibiotics, some painkillers, and a stubborn Scot who very much dislikes being waited on hand and foot.

Claire sighs, watching Jamie sleep. He lays on his back, one arm crossed over his flat stomach, breathing deeply; the other rests in the support to avoid jarring it. She cannot forget Geillis’s call, telling her that Jamie was in the hospital for an injured hand; she can’t put from her mind the fear, the apprehension while she packed a bag and Ubered to a flat in the Bridgeton area. Geillis met her there, gave her keys, and told her to wait for Jamie.

G is really going above and beyond. Claire turns in the bed, taking in the sparse furnishings. Jamie had told her who the flat had belonged to, and the first thing she had done was change the sheets on the bed.

G had kept her away from the hospital, taking on extra shifts to cover for her; she must be exhausted. Jamie didn’t want Geillis here, said it couldn’t be risked. But still, she had gotten some of Jamie’s clothes from his flat, shopped for groceries, then finally delivered Jamie himself from the hospital.

“He’ll need help showering—not that ye’d mind, I ken.” Geillis waggles her eyebrows mischievously, trying to bring some levity into the situation.

And so, Claire shuttles between her own flat, the hospital, and spends her nights with Jamie. He tells her briefly haltingly what had truly happened to his hand. Claire weeps in horror and despair; Jamie says the best thing is to lay low for now, and he prays fervently that Grey and Murtagh will come through soon.

Claire agrees, hoping for the best, but afraid in her heart—not only for Jamie and the situation they find themselves in, but for them. Jamie, as a fit, healthy young man is understandably frustrated that he cannot do certain simple tasks with an injured hand, and truly puts the word ‘patient’ to the test. He accepts only the bare minimum of care from her, and sends her off to work every morning with a mere kiss on the cheek. Nothing else.

Jamie hasn’t touched her except when absolutely necessary, utilitarian touches to help him step out of the tub, get dressed, being handed a plate. It doesn’t help that Jamie is left-handed, and his dominant hand is the one out of commission.

Claire understands he is in pain, physical and spiritual. He wakes up in a nightmare, lets himself be comforted a bit before pushing her gently away to her side of the bed. He let her glimpse it once only, when he said, “I can bear pain myself, but I canna stand yers.”

And Claire understands.

The rockheaded man doesn’t want to touch her, accept more of her comfort, fearing his uncles would know and come for her, hurt her like they had him.

Jamie spends his days reading, catching up on emails, working from home. The last one he’d read was from Dougal himself, telling him he was expected back at the end of the week, business as usual, injury or no. Murtagh had called only once, to tell him they were uncovering a wealth of information thanks to Randall, and to be patient, sit tight.

He supposes returning to the office would be better than moping around uselessly in the flat. It would help take his mind off lying each night next to Claire, anxious to touch her, but afraid. So afraid.

How could she still want him after all this? Perhaps she remains in the flat, caring for him merely out of a misplaced sense of duty, a physician’s oath to help and do no harm. He can’t imagine she wants to touch him either, with all these new scars he has to bear.

Jamie broods on the sofa, tapping away at his laptop one-handed until he hears the key in the lock. Claire is back, holding a Tesco grocery bag; she immediately proceeds to make dinner. He can see some sort of chicken dish with a side of veg on the counter. What disturbs him most is Claire banging pots and utensils around, her lips pursed and the occasional huff, but she does not address him. In fact, he recalls, she did not even say hello when she walked in. It is not like her to not tell him things, so he finds his voice and asks her.

“Sassenach, what is it? Something at the hospital?”

“No.” Her tone, so icy, gives him a sinking feeling in his wame.

“Is it me?”

“Of course it’s you. It’s always you.” Claire finally turns to him, tears of frustration lining her eyes. How could he be so bloody blind? “Have I not been here for you, helping you? Or at least, trying to help you!” She throws her hands up in exasperation, tossing a tea towel onto the counter. “And you keep shutting me out.”

Jamie swallows hard. “A nighean, I havena… I mean, ye dinna ken—”

“Oh, I ken alright. Haven’t I proved beyond a doubt that I love you, that I’m not going anywhere? I’m in this as deep as it gets, and for you, James Fraser, I am willing to give myself and everything I know because I love you, you idiot!”

The words come out before she can stop them, days of not being able to express how much she is hurting for him, how much she wants to make it better for him, and can’t. Claire takes up the tea towel again and turns her back on Jamie, lips pressed tightly so he won’t hear her cry, but shoulders shaking weakly.

James is speechless, mouth agape. Finally, he says gruffly, “I’m meant to take care of ye, mo nighean donn. It is who I am, how I was raised. I want to take care of ye, cherish ye, protect ye… but how can I do that when I couldna even protect myself?” He raises his injured hand helplessly, a familiar burst of anger in his chest that slowly dissolves as Claire turns her tear-stained face back to look at him.

“Because we can take care of each other, cherish each other. As for protection… I can protect myself too, you bloody fool. It doesn’t make you any less of a man for needing my help.” She takes a deep breath, and Jamie goes to her, his hand on her cheek as he wipes away the traces of tears.

“Mo chridhe, how can you have me like this?”

“I will have you any way I can. Always.”

“Claire, after everything ye’ve done for me—I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve stolen time wi’ ye I wasn’t meant to have.” He turns to face her, and he finds nothing but trust and love in her gaze. “I have betrayed and broken trust. But there is the one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest. Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well.”

Jamie takes her hands in his, splint and all, and Claire kisses the tips of his fingers. Twining hands together, she leads him to their shared bed. She proceeds to divest him of his clothes, and she quickly undresses herself. Jamie frowns at the black, Velcroed contraption on his hand, but Claire turns his thoughts away from it as she touches him where he wants her most.

They make love; Jamie crying out his pleasure over and over again, and only one of those times was because of pain in his hand.

x-X-x

Claire feels Jamie rise from the bed, and she burrows further under the covers as a cold puff of air takes his place. She watches drowsily as he goes to dresser where she stashed the clothes Geillis had brought him.

Jamie rummages inside the drawer, and finds one more thing he had asked Geillis to get from his flat, a small, black velvet bag. Naked, the spotty heating in the flat almost useless, he nestles closely against Claire, before pulling her up against his chest.

Sitting behind her, Jamie clumsily pours the contents of the bag into his hand with a soft, clinking noise. Claire feels something cool and hard settle against her collarbones, as Jamie places a pearl necklace over her head.

“These were my mother’s,” Jamie breathes into her ear, his voice a whisper in the dark. “They are verra precious to me, as are you, Claire.” She feels tears line her eyes again, but for a different reason. “I give them to ye, because I canna give ye a ring yet, but take them as my promise to ye, that we will get through this until I can swear before God that I will be yours and ye can be mine forever.”

“I already am,” she says huskily, fingering the smooth white pearls in wonder.

Jamie leans forward, and kisses the freckles on her shoulder, one by one. Claire tries to turn in his arms to thank him properly, but he won’t let her, trapping her arms against her body as he continues to press his lips against her skin.

“What are you doing?” Claire asks, laughing softly.

“There are constellations here. Let me take my time, Sassenach, that I may name them all. This will take all night.”

- - -

A/N: Thank you everyone for your support! A bit of bad news: this story will go on hiatus for a couple of weeks. I’ve been having flaring wrist pains and been diagnosed with tendinitis. Although most of the story is written out (and please know that I know how this will end) the next 3 chapters are not complete. Unfortunately, because of my wrist, this means I cannot take time to type out the stuff I need, until the doctor gives me the all-clear. So let’s take 2 weeks and hopefully my wrist will be better and I can write again. Thank you for understanding! <3

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #ltm15 #thank you for reading and commenting and liking #i appreciate every single one of you

111 notes · View notes

myelocin · 3 years

Text

love, sicily | kozume kenma

Synopsis: Perhaps it’s through serendipity that you’ll begin to look at the world past the rose colored lenses and finally see the kaleidoscope of gold that it brings.

Characters: Kozume Kenma, Sugawara Koushi

Genre: Fluff, Travel, Eventual Romance, (Mutual) Pining | WC: 4000+

Playlist | Pinterest Board

A/N: This is a commission from @haiikyuuns ! I had a lot of fun with this one so thank you for trusting me miss maam ;A;

commissions

Track 1: Paris in The Rain | “I look at you now and I want this forever; I might not deserve it but there’s nothing better.”

Sugawara Koushi is what comes with Paris.

He’s the first, the only, and the current. It’s through summer nights under city lights, where you first are introduced to what love could be.

Where it could be this. Only this.

The summer of ’13 looking like living in an okay city that doesn’t really have much to offer in the rural side of southern Japan. One convenience store by the train station, and a teashop that most teenagers wouldn’t exactly prefer to frequent. Sunsets by the shore are nice, because your world had always just been nice.

It was okay.

Watermelon and ice drops in June, falling leaves in September, snowy paths you had to shovel every weekend in December, and the Sakura blossoms in March. Routine was okay, so you settled that you were too.

Koushi was who looked like what love could be to you. The word “eventually,” fitting. To be in a constant state of pondering if the word love could ever be redefined.

And in a way, it does. He doesn’t exactly become love, the more you think about it, but rather he just remains as is. Your constant; a day one of some sorts. Serendipity as a thing reserved for what could only be thought of as fiction, because reality had never been an ugly place for you.

So looking through rose colored lenses it was.

From your place you settled the most comfortable in—in the sidelines—you sat and watched Koushi bloom. Where for years it stayed okay. As is. Still a routine that frankly neither of you wanted to break.

Where eventually, the first crack of that well maintained schedule looked like a roundtrip ticket from Tokyo to the city of Paris, a suitcase, backpack, and a map of a city unknown to you.

The sight of Paris and Sugawara Koushi. Silver hair and hazel eyes. Every color that’s linked to what you’ve always known as home found in him. The pastel pink of his lips like the rose petals from outside his home, the silver of his hair as the clouds in the sky because for some reason rain always triumphed over sunshine.

And Paris, in the rain, with what you think as love, in front of you. Seen through your eyes as what you tell yourself is it—the greatest that love could ever become, because all you’ve known are shades of pastels with just a hint of silver.

Just one, perfect, palette that seemed to be enough for you.

(Until it wasn’t for him.) (It never occurred to you that just a few shades and a set of familiar streets would never be enough for him.)

“Paris is great, isn’t it?” Koushi turns to you and says, where he holds his hands out and past the balcony to catch a few drops of rain.

He looks beautiful. (Always has, you think.)

You nod your head.

“I’m coming back here next month because I got the job, actually,” he smiles, looking wistful.

You pause.

Rain still pours, and there’s a little bit of thunder. You think to yourself that if he chose to say any other set of words other than a watered down version of “I’m-leaving-you-and-that-good-for-nothing-town-forever,” you’d already be pulling him down into the streets and kiss him under the rain.

“Like,” you say, trying to sound out your thoughts; your throat feels dry. “—like forever?”

Koushi looks far away, and when he leans further to catch more raindrops, he feels far away. Further away, you think. Has he always been this far away?

“I hope forever,” he laughs, then turns to you. He’s smiling like you share his happiness with him. Are you happy along with him?

Silver hair kind of white against the backdrop of Paris in the rain, and hazel eyes that still look like all the shades of home stare at you. Your palms feel clammy, but you smile.

He turns away, and the rose colored lenses you’ve always seen the world with suddenly crack.

(When you sleep that night, Paris in the rain just becomes a city caught in a thunderstorm.)

Track 2: Paris | “if we go down, then we go down together.”

Kozume Kenma’s always hated looking at a city caught in a downpour.

He was never much for traveling, but he knew a city like this was meant to be explored.

He sighs, suitcase in tow as he opens the door to his hotel room and face plant into the bed. The skies above a city meant to live in sunshine continue to weep, so he turns on his side, facing the window to ponder. Not necessarily about much, because his thoughts have always been quite linear.

Kenma liked schedule. Predictability.

Booking a ticket to Paris three days after Tetsurou’s drunk speech was not predictable.

And because he spoke of the devil, his phone rings, flashing Tetsurou’s name in big, bold letters.

“You know,” Tetsurou’s voice drawls. “I don’t know what on God’s green earth even possessed you to jump on the first flight out of here to fucking—“ he pauses to inhale, before continuing, “—Paris out of every other city, but you did, and everyone’s confused as fuck.”

Kenma shifts in place, frankly wondering the same thing, but of course he’d never tell him that. There’s an ache that comes when he cracks his neck, but it’s a familiar one. He supposes that he’s used to a lot of things. The ache in his neck; the black roots that always grows faster than he can retouch them; Tetsurou’s voice that still sounds worse than his mother’s nagging.

“Why are you even there?” his voice comes again over the phone.

“You told me that I needed to do more,” Kenma replies.

The city still weeps. He wonders if someone’s out there trying to catch raindrops, or perhaps dance and kiss in the rain.

After all, it’s Paris, he thinks. A lot happens in a city people shroud with love.

“Do more,” Tetsurou parrots, confused.

Kenma nods, blinking with the tap, tap, tap that comes from the rain against his window.

The gears don’t turn in Tetsurou’s head until after a few more moments pass, his eyes eventually widening at the memory from three nights ago. It’s always been known that Kenma’s been more of a reserved person when it came to most things in life. Ever the calculated, side character type of person. For the most part it was okay, but he supposes that even the most silent could still have moments where they want to peek a little outside the view from inside the box.

Over the phone, Tetsurou smiles, nodding his head.

“You gotta live a little more, Ken, “ he remembers himself telling the younger man. Given that he was a little past tipsy when he made that impromptu speech, there was never an intention to say it as something to be understood as more than just a passing comment.

“See the world,” he said.

Kenma booked a ticket that night, and three days later he finds himself looking at Paris in the rain, with not much of a plan in mind.

“Do more,” he remembers.

And Tetsurou thinks that this counts.

“You trying to prove something to someone?” he asks Kenma, voice suddenly honest.

Kenma sighs, closing his eyes and thinking of the little world he lives within the big wide universe. He’s never really felt small, but sometimes even Tokyo gets lonely.

“Something like that,” he answers.

“—let’s show them we are better.”

The funny thing about serendipity is that it looks nothing like how it’s supposed to look like.

All your life, when you thought of happy moments in regards to love it was always an image that you thought was set in stone from day one.

Instead, it looks like this:

Wet concrete, a cup of coffee, and the rooftop with the view of the city that’s done nothing but weep since the day you arrived. The rain smelled nice, at least. There was always something about the way it lingered that reminded you of home.

—Of silver, and hazel, and pastel colors, and a goodbye that was said like a hello.

You sigh because you just know Sugawara Koushi’s the kind of person that means to linger after the exit.

But like the nature of serendipity, it’s three minutes later where things take a turn.

It turns into looking like a stranger with golden stars for eyes, a question always looking like it’s wanting to break past the barrier.

He shuffles awkwardly in place, looking like a deer caught in the headlights when you turn your face to look at him. You squint, having half the mind to greet him with a broken bonjour before he’s eventually bowing his head profusely and explaining that he’s sorry with an accent familiar to you.

Classic Tokyo boy, you snort.

“Rain kinda ruined the skyline, huh?” you prompt, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Not really here to see the city.”

You blink, not exactly phased. You came here following Koushi, so you were practically in the same boat.

“To do more,” he answers. Vague, you think.

Maybe not the same boat. The same ocean, riding the same current maybe, but not the same boat.

“Do more,” you repeat. “So like, are you soul searching?”

“This is beginning to sound like a bad fanfiction,” he mutters, shaking his head, then sighing. “I guess I’m trying to look outside my comfort zone.”

“Ah,” you nod your head. “So kinda like soul searching, but not really; I get it.”

Beside you, he straightens his back. “You do?”

You shrug. “Everybody’s always seeking for something aren’t they?”

He exhales a sigh that sounds more like a laugh so you laugh along with him.

“Mandy,” you say, giving him your name.

“Kenma,” he says, giving you his in return. “So what’s your story?”

You sigh, thinking about it and realizing that you’ve been feeling a little more lost than found lately.

“You really wanna dive straight into that?”

Kenma thinks of what do more exactly means, and settles that maybe this could be count as something to find the meaning to that.

He shrugs. “I’ll dive in if you do,” he answers, and just like that, the man besides you turns from just a rooftop stranger into a stranger with a name who knew just a little bit more about you than the usual you would think is okay.

(Maybe it’s Paris, or maybe it’s just the way your world has kind of tilted, but as you sound out your tale it feels kind of okay.)

Track 3: Roses | “Get drunk on the good life, I'll take you to paradise.”

“You’re going where?” Koushi asks you, eyes wide.

“Italy.”

Serendipity looks like this too. Wide eyes, and an unconvinced tilt to the head. It sounds like Koushi pacing back and forth in a room, his suitcase packed and ready to go, as is yours, but the destination on your respective tickets going somewhere different.

“Shit,” he says. You pause; he never was the type to curse much. “Do you need me to go with you?”

“I’m going with someone actually,” you decline, voice quiet. Mentally, you curse yourself. Why is your voice even quiet? Looking at it from an objective point of view, you’re an adult. You’re in control of your own salary, and sometimes impulsive decisions are granted because in the long run they’re good for the soul.

“You’re going with a stranger,” he deadpans.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. He had a point.

“Are you okay?”

The words he says sound familiar, and a part of you sighs to itself because in a way you’ve missed the familiar. Paris wasn’t familiar, and neither was the idea of Koushi telling you the forever kind of goodbye. Truth is, he could romanticize the see you later parting all he wanted, but that was kind of it. See you later becomes a couple photos you’ll stare at on social media then scroll past, then eventually into just greeting during the holidays before it dwindles into silence.

Just a box of photos of you and him from the coastal side rural city of your hometown, kept in a box, stored in an attic.

“I’m okay.”

You’re not. Sugawara Koushi and the little world back home is all you’ve known, and even if Paris in the rain became just a city caught in a thunderstorm to you, this wasn’t height of what the rest of the world had to offer.

So you smile. “I just wanna do something a little different for a change. I’m okay, I promise. A change is good right?”

The smile he gives you has you feeling terrified.

“—we could be beautiful.” | Italy

And the truth is, a lot of things really could be just that.

Kenma reminds himself that there’s a lot more to Italy than just the deeper saturated colors in the sky, and wider bloom of the roses, but sometimes his eyes wander. Doing more, rings in his head—again and again kind of like as if it’s a broken record.

So “doing more,” begins with thoughts.

He looks at you. A stranger he met by coincidence at a rooftop of a weeping Paris two weeks ago and now he’s suddenly walking along the coast of Italy with you beside him. He knows your name, a little bit of your story, and the fact that you have EDM music plus a couple of sad boy hour songs in your playlist.

He watches you smile when you lean down to smell the flowers, then wonders why you seem to look happier against the pink roses instead of the classic red.

All it takes is for you to smile at him, once, starry eyed and looking like all you know is the sun, and his thoughts stop for just a second before it spirals.

It fucking spirals. How does it fucking spiral?

The first thought that rings true and crystal fucking clear to him is that he’s certain that he wants to know than more than what he already does.

Why do you look happier next to pink instead of red? Why did it look like you wept with Paris? Why are you in Italy with a stranger you barely even know?

“—hideaway.”

Truth is, you think that Italy’s just a hideaway. One extra week away from home, so that goodbye isn’t goodbye yet.

When you look at Kenma whose eyes look distant when he stares at the distance, you wonder if he’s keeping his eyes on the horizon or trying to look past it.

Maybe Italy’s a hideaway for him too.

“Say you’ll never let me go.”

You fall asleep each night trying to tell yourself that he belongs with the city that cries, while the pastel colors of home would always be there for yours to cherish.

You don’t know what exactly you want to let go of just yet.

Serendipity has you looking at the world like it exists for you to conquer it, and perhaps for some it does. For you, you think you just want something to call yours, and for someone to call you theirs.

Track 4: All We Know | “Maybe we should let this go.”

Kenma’s the first to tell you about letting go.

You have half the mind to ask him of what exactly there even is to let go of, but it’s this one night in Italy where Sicily pours all over again.

“I didn’t know Europe liked to cry,” you laugh, staring at the streets outside.

“Maybe it’s just crying for us,” he offers as a response. To be fair, his words did work as if it’s consolation, so you give him credit for at least that and laugh with him.

Kenma’s nice.

He’s a stranger, but he’s nice.

It’s in Italy where you learned that he liked computer screens over window panes, and the buzz of Tokyo over the silence in Miyagi. He’s young, but he’s settled. There’s a house he’s trying to call home, and a kotatsu that serves him well during the winters.

He was a setter for a team, and has a friend that nags even more than his own mother.

Kenma likes apple pie, and despite the initial impression, he’s pretty good when it comes to conversation. He blushes when you look at him in the eye and smile, but eventually he stopped trying to avoid your gaze whenever you did do that.

You can feel him looking at you again, so you tug on your coat and walk towards where the awning of your impromptu shelter ends, palms stretched out to catch the rain.

(You think of Paris.)

“Wanna make a run for it?” Kenma suggests, hands shrugged in his pocket, and eyes looking like two pools of the most beautiful gold in front of you.

(—then you don’t.)

“Kozume Kenma’s getting kinda bold now,” you snicker, walking closer towards him then to the edge as the rain falls harder.

He puffs his cheeks, turning away from you to face the side, and shrugs off his coat to hold it above his head and your own.

And it’s true, you think; there’s something about gold eyes against dark streets and the bokeh of city lights that just fit. You think to yourself that you know his name, and a little slice of his life, but you want to ask him more.

You’re in Sicily with a familiar stranger, and it’s in this fleeting, little, perfect moment where you think that Paris has always just been a city. Never a chapter in a romance book or the postcard that you dreamed of standing in.

Italy looks like rain and now, and gold, and familiar strangers.

You’re not in love, but maybe you should let some things go.

A car drives past, and the streets clear. There’s more than just a few puddles on the ground, but Kenma’s eyes look like a prettier shade of the moon when it turns gold. He’s chuckling, in the way you think only you’ve heard among all the people in the world, and he feels close.

“—we’ve passed the end so we chase forever.”

So close that he could kiss you.

Is this what doing more means?

Maybe, he thinks; there’s a lot of maybes that comes with serendipity. With a sharp breath, you look at each other, then break out into a run.

“—this is all we know.”

You’re drenched in the rain and you’re laughing. Kenma’s long past given up trying to squeeze out rainwater from his jacket and instead just leans against the wall to look at you.

He likes to think that he’s part of the reason as to why you’ve smiled so much today.

“You good?” he hears you ask, and he nods.

“All good.”

He means it.

Track 5: Right Here | “Can we just talk it out like friends?”

“Are you running away because of someone?” Kenma asks.

You let his question sit for a few moments to think it through. Are you?

You don’t know, so you sigh, then look at him. “What does love look like to you?”

Kenma shrugs, but doesn’t ask about your question. Instead, he looks forward, twiddles with the frayed string of his sweater and gives you his truth. “It looks like a lot of things.”

He takes your silence as a response, so he continues.

“I love grocery stores at midnight,” he shrugs. “No lines.”

You nod your head, accepting his answer; you suppose that love could be that too. “I love League of Legends,” you try. “Even if some players can get toxic.”

“We should game then,” he mutters.

“Bet.”

You snicker, looking to the side and pretending like you didn’t see the faint dust of red on his cheeks. If he asks, you’ll just say that it’s because of the red in the sky and leave it at that.

He doesn’t, but he does ask for more slices of you. “What else?”

“I love how sunsets look in my city,” you say. “Cosplaying. The stars. My immaculate playlist. Pink roses over red. Purple hair.”

He nods, happy with the fact that he’s piecing together little bits and pieces of you.

“You love someone too,” he says, but the lilt in his voice gives away that he’s asking rather than just stating it.

You think about what he says. When you thought of love it’s always looked like all the shades of silver and maybe a couple palettes with just pastel. It looked like the beige of Paris and the cotton candy skies from home.

Then in comes the rain, the world drenched, and past the rose colored lenses you finally begin to see the first hues of every other color.

Italy, with this vibrant, beautiful kaleidoscope, and Kenma, who stands in the center of it.

You see gold, gold, gold.

“You love someone,” he says, and when the world love registers in your ear you think about how much you loved getting caught in the downpour from last night.

“I do love someone,” you tell him, because a part of you would always call that love. It’s in Italy, next to a stranger, where you learn that love doesn’t always have to be this or that. In reality, it’s actually as simple as being this and that.

The waves off the coast, and the sunny city from the postcards drenched in front of your eyes. The calm before the storm, then the beauty of how the rain falls and wind howls right after. You come to love running from point A to point B in a downpour, with a stranger who held his jacket over you and him as an attempt to keep you dry.

Love can be Koushi, still, and always.

As you calling him later that night and telling him about the adventure that serendipity took you in. He tells you a little bit about Paris, and how he’s always going to be right there, when you need it.

You nod to yourself as he says those words, because you’re fine with the fact that even if he won’t, you can always tell yourself that you’re right here for you.

Track 6: Nobody Compares To You | “Nobody, nobody, nobody compares to you.”

To Kenma, you are what comes with both Paris and Italy and the serendipity found after trying to find a face to correlate with “doing more.”

You’re sitting beside him, on the window seat of a plane headed home, and he spends the duration of the flight above seas thinking that he doesn’t want to approach a goodbye.

At the end of the day, he realizes that he’s just a stranger. And maybe to you he’s just going to be a photograph in an old SD card you’d look at once every couple of years before forgetting about it in an attic, or losing in some corner of a house that would you see you for the rest of this lifetime.

He’s never looked at unpredictability in the face. His whole life he’s sneered at the sight of a break in routine, and what’s unfamiliar, because not everything is laid out for him to acclimate to.

He thinks to himself that maybe Italy would be enough, and the downpour of Europe are wild enough of a memory to catapult him into seeing a little more.

Because he saw so much.

“Do more,” he hears Tetsurou say.

Was booking the first flight out of the country without a plan enough?

Kenma shakes his head no. It was a step, but it wasn’t enough.

Telling himself that he’s always going to have Sicily isn’t enough. Leaning in close, almost kissing you once, and watching the hues of the world burst like fireworks and settle into paintings against the depths of your eyes just once isn’t enough. Knowing that you love to play league but not know who your favorite champions are don’t even come close to being enough either.

He wants this, and wants to know you.

He’s certain that Mandy is a name he’s always going to remember despite the age, but he wants to ask you so much more.

Kenma acknowledges the thought that he wants more photographs on his phone and nights where he’d have no choice but to run across the street in a downpour. The truth that he finds in Italy is that there’s nobody like you, because you are who comes with the colors that he never thought he’d discover outside of Tokyo.

Suddenly the routine he’s bound to come home to isn’t enough anymore.

You’re both skies above Japan, and he wants to look at you watch the sunset and talk about all the things you love again. Whether it be in Italy or Paris. Japan or the rest of the world. Under the shelter of sunlight or in the eye of the storm.

He wants to ask you why you love pink roses more than red.

This isn’t love—not just yet, but it could be.

Track 7: Something Just Like This | “How much you wanna risk?”

All you’ve known is silver, but perhaps gold works too.

Kenma stands beside you, luggage in hand, and the exit a few steps away. How much does he want to risk exactly?

Not a whole lot.

The routine that used to be enough was never a whole lot.

He shifts his weight back and forth between each foot as he wracks his brain with thoughts of what he could say.

On the other hand, you don’t want to say goodbye.

Something just like what you have now is nice. The company of a stranger you saw the world be doused in colors in with is nice. Parting then potentially forgetting isn’t nice.

You think to yourself that maybe all you’ll be to him is a face to match a name, and a stranger meant to remain in only photographs of this slice of his life.

As you close your eyes, the colors of pastel and silver flashes behind your eyelids, but they aren’t blinding. You know it’s not because of just Italy and that rooftop in Paris that gives an answer as to why you’re suddenly seeking gold.

How much do you wanna risk? What exactly is there to risk?

Kenma’s the first to break the silence. “Do we say goodbye here or are we going to do something dumb like book another ticket to another country?”

You bite back a laugh, peeking at him through the curtain of your bangs. He doesn’t look away this time, so you offer him a smile when he meets you halfway.

Now that you think about it, Kenma’s always sort of met you halfway.

(It’s nice.)

“I don’t think my bank account would appreciate me booking another ticket on impulse right now,” you laugh.

Kenma’s eyes glimmer, and you think, gold.

“So you’re saying you’d still go with me?” he asks.

“Not everybody is a CEO to their own company, so maybe next time,” you chuckle, amused at the way he seems to deflate ever so slightly at your words.

“Next time,” he mutters, nodding to himself. “We’ll see each other next time?”

You shrug. “I mean, I’d run in the rain with you again.”

He laughs, shoulders shaking a little, eyes crinkling along with his smile. “See you in the next time?”

The way you smile at him has Kenma thinking about the boundaries evident between saying that he wants to do more than actually doing more. So it’s when you’ve turned your back, a few meters already away from him where he exhales a sigh and calls out your name.

You turn around before he even finishes.

What you see is gold. Gold, gold, beautiful gold; as the center of the kaleidoscope of colors.

“If I kiss you the next time, would you kiss me back?”

Kenma’s still as he sounds out his words, the taste of it foreign in his tongue. But he welcomes it this time. You’re looking at him like he gave you the sun, and he holds his breath.

“Earlier in the trip, back in Paris you said you were looking for something,” you tell him first. “Did you find it?”

A pause, then a smile. “Answer my question first.”

You think about what you’d have to risk if you answer yes, but the only thing that comes to mind are colors you know you’re starting to grow out of, so you roll your eyes, laughing. “Then I’ll look forward to that next time.”

He exhales, shoulders feeling light. “Good to know because I think I found what I was looking for too.”

You prolong the see you later. “Was it yourself or something else?”

The answer comes to him naturally, and he grins. “A little bit of both, actually.”

#nc.commissions #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kozume kenma #kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma scenarios #kozume kenma imagines #kenma x reader #kenma #kenma scenarios #kenma imagines #kenma fluff #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi imagines #haikyuu fluff #hq!!#hq!! x reader

36 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

Misrule p3

REAL LIFE PURGE

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING SMUT

"Okay" I nodded taking his hand he gave me a smile and my hand a kiss before he began something else, he took the knife off James and bent it around in a coil so it was useless to anyone else checking him over for any other weapons "who are you?" I asked

"I said. I'm Thomas." He says

"What are you doing out on misrule?"

"I am, someone who goes out on misrule. and I do my best to help people out when they get stuck, or in trouble over the course of the night. Some people don't want to be involved but find themselves wrapped in it anyway." He explained

"Are you... a resistance?"

"If it makes you feel better." He says "I don't do the politics. I just help out where I can," he said

There was suddenly a loud bang across the city

"We should move, that was less than a mile away," He says going up to where he left his motorcycle at the edge of the alley "You coming?" He asked offering me a helmet

"Okay" I nodded taking the helmet "Just don't go too fast I'm not great on the-" I began as I climbed on and held onto him but he revved the engine and scurried off though the streets I did my best not to scream holding onto him as tight as I could as we headed down the streets "Where are we going?!"

"Safe zone! it's a few miles from here, in the London underground, One line has been locked down as a safe zone planned for pregnant women and young children, but I know a guy who can get you in until at least five" He says

"My house is safe if you can get me back there?"

"Okay, tap me when I need to turn," He says so I nodded and started directing him before we got to my street and I saw Ken stood there bloody in the middle of the road

"DOCTOR! YOU'RE PATIENT IS HERE TO SEE YOU!" He yelled

"You know that guy?" Thomas asks

"He's one of my patients who uhhh wasn't happy with what I told him"

"Fair enough, get off and go to the house I'll lose him"

"He's dangerous. I'm not letting you get hurt."

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing" he says "I'll be back. I swear" He says I nodded I climbed off and Thomas revved the engine and went for him almost hitting him as soon as ken saw him I bolted for my house as fast as I could as Thomas lead ken away I climbed over my fence and climbed back in my window locking it up tightly, I felt terrible, worried sick I let him go.

I sat by my upstairs window waiting to look for the revving of a motorbike, He said he would be back. I was worried about what ken might have done to him, he could be hurt, he could be dead left in an alley or a ditch. He who knows what sort of things ken could have done to him.

I saw lights across the road, something was coming through the dark streets. A Motorbike veering, I ran down unlocking my door and running out onto the street. The motorbike stopped outside my house and Thomas climbed off and fell into my arms I could tell he was bloody and clearly eaughsted. I pulled him inside locking the door up again "what happened?" I asked

"That guy... is a fucking dick." He groans

"I know" I laughed getting my little first aid kit taking care of the cuts and such he had on his arms "You're not to badly hurt are you?" I asked as I worked

"Ohh no... I'm fine. just bloody spectacular" he sighed "I think he.... Shot me in the leg. I think, or knifed me, it was a bit of a blur" he says

"I'll check you over" I said doing my best to make sure he was okay

"What the hells up with that guy?"

"I can't tell you, confidentiality and all"

"He did just try to fucking kill me"

"Everyone has bad thoughts. Things we all think about that we know are bad..."

"Like standing on the underground thinking of pushing someone onto the tracks"

"Exactly,"

"Or yourself, if it's been a bad day"

"We all think things like that. Doesn't mean we ever do them" I said "most people have the common sense and the morals and such to know not to do things like this and..."

"Some people don't"

"That's why there are serial killers, some people don't have the voice that knows not to do something bad" I said finishing up "should ignore them as much as possible

"Not all the thoughts we have are bad though, sometimes bad thoughts are good. I mean yeah wherever I'm on a plane with a screaming baby I think for a second of I just punch the window the baby will shut up. I never do it because that's fucking nuts. But sometimes you see a woman get mugged or a child get hurt and you... You think bad things too and that's okay too think that"

"No. They shouldn't"

"Y/n. Bad thoughts are okay sometimes, there just thought"

"Doesn't mean we get to do them, some people shouldn't have that door opened for them."

"You have to have bad thoughts too"

"No"

"You must do."

"Well I don't"

"I do. But I do what I want unless it would be bad."

"Well I don't"

"Don't you think about anything that you don't do?"

"Well of course I do"

"Then do it. Do something you think about," he says "Come on, it is Misrule after all"

I looked at him a little confused and he just smiled back at me, I didn't know what to do, I moved forward and pressed my lips to his, kissing him softly unsure, he kissed back before we each pulled away "yeah. I'd thought about that too"

"You need your rest" I said going to move but he stopped me holding my arm "yes?"

"In the spirit of the festival... There's something I wanna do to" he smirked pulling me back to kissing him...

I smiled widely laid in my bed the covers all that concealed me, the sounds outside of guns, cars and God only knows what else but I had ignored it all. Me and thomas laid in my bed cuddling still gently kissing giggling at each other after all that.

"This. Is a much better tradition then Misrule" he smirked petting my hair

"Umm Humm" I nodded playing with his chest a little

"Maybe instead of all the other crazy bullshit maybe every year we should just meet up and... Do whatever we want on each other"

"Sounds nice. Anything?"

"Anything you want darling, after all that I'm up for anything"

"I bet you are"

"Ummmm, a much better tradition then that bullshit" he sighed "of you wanted to see me again if course?"

"I would very much" I smiled I heard the alarms go off, misrule was over.

"I should get home, check I didn't get broken into or anything" he says giving me a kiss and climbing out of bed, I smirked and watched him getting dressed at the foot of my bed, before climbing out and getting my nightie on wrapping my dressing gown around me as I would need a shower before work, he gathered his things and we went to the door "I'm sure I'll be seeing you darling"

"I'm sure you will"

"And even if I don't, I'll see you next year" he smirked giving me a kiss

"See you next year" I smirked pulling him down for a long passionate kiss wrapping ourselves up together I gave him a last kiss before he went off to his motorbike.

I got ready for work And headed there being careful of the madness on the roads from everything last night, and as soon as I got in I saw james with a black eye

"Ohh hi miss y/l/n."

"Hello James"

"Did you have a nice festival?" He asked putting the book on the desk for me to sign in

"I did actually. Apart from you"

"Y/n. You can't hold me to things during the festival that defeats the whole point" he smirked "it was just Misrule"

"I know, just Misrule" I said handing him back the book and pen "I'll be upstairs, on and James?"

"Yes?"

"Your fried."

"What! Why!"

"Misrule or not, you tried to rape me, go fuck yourself, get out, I see you a hundred feet me if again I'm calling the police and getting a restraining order" I told him heading up to my office.

It has been a long day so I sat watch some TV with my glass of wine listening to the sweet quiet, when suddenly my door knocked so I got up and went to answer it peaking thought to see a familiar boy on my doorstep so I opened the door seeing Thomas stood leant on my doorframe in his blue jeans a light blue button down and his leather jacket

"Hi"

"Hi, it been a year already?" I asked him

"Sure has felt like it" he smirked giving my lips a little kiss and revealing a little bouquet of roses "I missed you"

"I missed you too" I smiled taking the flowers "something you wanted Thomas?"

"You know what I want" he smirked "you wanna go out to dinner?"

"Sure" I smiled "after" I smirked grabbing his shirt and pulling him into my house.

14 notes · View notes

westerhos · 4 years

Text

Our Story: Chapter 5

Here marks the middle of our tale, that vast, perilous land between the beginning and the end. The going is treacherous in these parts—the wayward couple must heal on their own, tread the sea of two decades with arms and souls akimbo—but still, it is not unnecessary. The middle is never aimless. Always, always, it has one goal: the ending.

When the lights go up and the curtains close, you clap—perhaps, should the couple reunite (which, of course, they will), you shout “Encore, encore!” But then, at last, you return to your car. You catch the train, or you grab a taxi. At last, having started at the beginning and waded through the middle, you reach the final destination. The night is over; you go home.

Home. Whether a place, a person, a feeling, or a thing—it does not matter. Home is always the goal and the ending, the northernmost star we pray to and walk towards.

[December 24th, 1996]

Two weeks’ vacation in a cabin, tucked deep inside a fold of mountains. Here, amongst the stretches of living nothingness, even the silence has a voice. Owls hoot in the night. The pines’ chatter, their needle-whispers pierced by caws and shifted air—a hawk swooping to ensnare her prey. And if one listens closely enough, one can hear the hunter's a shaky, traitorous breath, which launches the doe across the snow—the echo of his heartsong, the drum to which the doe’s hooves beat. Come back, come back, come back.

This is why Jamie has come here: for the endless conversation between man and mountain, more steadfast than the chill in his heart. In the past four years, Jamie has sold the twin cot (it lies in a salvage yard somewhere, all broken springs and dreams). A different couple has moved into the studio, and when they had spoken of paint jobs—“Perhaps mint green, what d’ye say, hon?”— Jamie had thought, Thank God. He’d happily offered them the keys when they turned to him, pupils dilated with youthful optimism. By that point, there was no space for Jamie and Claire inside that Edinburgh Eden, and so he’d chimed in, “Aye, a bonny color.” (Indeed, the walls are mint now, though a forgotten strip of marigold shines in the northern corner.)

For two years, Jamie has lived with Murtagh in Glasgow, having shed not just his home but his editorial career in publishing. He has grown tired of fixing other’s mistakes—too many of his own in need of correction—and so here he sits on this Christmas Eve, writing towards redemption.

The Grampians are a peaceful place, big hulks of rock scattered with trees—bouquets of fir, oak, and pine cradling other cabins. At dark, their windows flicker, candlelit with the dreams of the aspiring novelists, essayists, playwrights therein. Men and women, all bowed before the cleansing hum of nature’s speech. Like Jamie, they had seen the fliers: WRITER’S RETREAT, TWO WEEKS IN THE MOUNTAINS—and so it was. They were small colony taking its temporary leave, hoping to reconstruct the world according to their own, more favorable terms.

Over supper, the group gathers and shares their ideas: outlines, pieces of dialogue, an inspiring poem they’ve loved since childhood. And while Jamie is generous with his advice, he holds his notebooks against his chest. Enraptured by this warm aloofness (for is it not the way of all great wordsmiths?), the others whisper behind their palms, “Have you read Fraser’s story?” Into napkins, “No, have you?”

But among the fifteen guests, only one has read Jamie’s story—and tonight, Jamie waits for her inside his cabin. His latest draft is fanned around him, some sections highlighted and others slashed. They are not unlike Claire’s old strike-throughs, which had snipped the would-be Dalhousie and eventually, Jamie’s own name, from her life (a reclamation of Beauchamp, a transformation to Randall). Among Jamie’s scribbles are his friend’s edits, which are much more forgiving, much less forceful than the lines of his own red pen. Each comment reads like a bashful request: “More clarity?”, “Switch the verb here?”, “Too many adjectives?” as if she needs permission to occupy the margins. Should I really be reading this?, she seems to say, the bare-backed rawness making her squirm.

But she is helping him, his friend. And so she sees Jamie’s drafts before John, his agent, and before Fergus, his assistant and most loyal advocate. With each comment, she brings him closer to understanding, to the better beginning, middle and end. Note by note, to the way his story (their story, for it can never be Jamie’s alone) should be. All rhymes and logic, had it not veered off-course.

Is Alexander too cold here? Shouldn’t he say something? (He should have.)

It seems out of character for Alexander to never visit his daughter’s grave? (Grief carves cowards out of heroes.)

Shouldn’t he try to win Elizabeth back? (God, yes. He should have tried harder.)

The knock comes three minutes later, as expected.

“Hello?”

“Door’s unlocked.”

“Oh!” A muffled apology, embarrassment for the delay. “Sorry,” the visitor says. “It’s late. Didna ken if ye still wanted to talk or not. I brought—well, I finished reading your last chapter.”

And now another player enters this fifth act, tip-toes quietly onto the stage. Only a slip of a thing in the cabin’s doorway, cheeks pinked by the storm’s sharp nip. She is Jamie’s friend-slash-critique partner, and even her entrance is punctuated by a question mark. The score of owl, pine, hawk and hunter swells, buffeted now by new notes: the crack of chapped lips smiling, the anxious shuffle of papers, and—

“Dinna fash, I couldna sleep anyways,” Jamie assures her. “Did ye like it, though? The new ending?”

His friend inhales sharply, stealing as much oxygen as the room will allow. Everything—the threadbare futon, the TV’s antennae, the welcome mat and Jamie’s body—bends towards some invisible presence. A ghost between between all.

“It was…a bit different from the last one.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘Nay, I didna like it.’”

She looks shyly at the ground, one foot treading nervous circles into the planks.

“It was a bit too sentimental is all. After everything. All that time and silence…D’ye really think Alex and Lizzie could make it?”

Her words are a blow to Jamie’s stomach, and the pages are fire in his hands. He puts them down, wants to thrust himself under a blanket of snow to freeze the flames.

“In a fairy tale, maybe, but life isna a fairy tale. And d’ye no want to write truths?” She looks up, and her eyes gore him. “This story isna a fairy tale either, Jamie. Yours never are.”

“Aye…aye, I s’pose they’re not,” he replies, thinking of his other novels and short stories, essays and poems. Each accepted by John’s gimlet eye, only to meet their end in a publisher’s slush pile. (“Too dark, too wallowing,” an editor once wrote.)

“Give it another go. I’ll help ye tomorrow, if ye’d like,” his friend offers. “Three days left. I reckon we’ve time to sort the kinks, right the wrongs.” (Three days will never be enough for Jamie’s wrongs.)

“I’d appreciate that, lass. Verra much.”

His friend looks behind her and at the moon, a shy sickle in the sky. It draws her toward the door and the snow-covered mountainside.

“Weel, it’s a long walk back,” she says. “Wanted to give ye that before the morning, so I guess I’ll just…”

“Will ye stay with me tonight?” Jamie blurts. And he hates himself for saying this, the way it sounds outside his mouth and inside his cabin, landing on the unmade bed. Its despair makes it ugly. But.

But if his friend stays, Jamie thinks, perhaps the emptiness will leave. If his friend stays, perhaps his story will correct itself, falling into its natural rhythm, by the force of whatever solace she can give him.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he continues, “and I…I dinna want to be alone.”

She pauses, thinks it over before saying, “Okay. Just for a bit?” (Just for a bit? Another loaded question, and one he doesn’t want to answer.)

“Thank you,” Jamie whispers, and Mary McNab removes her coat.

____

Long before daybreak, Jamie wakes. He gathers his draft, made complete by that final failing chapter, into a single stack. He retrieves a box from his suitcase, which is swathed in his old holiday sweater, and it speaks to him. A quiet loudness, like the murmur of the Grampians. You mean your lager-stained pullover? With the Santa looks that looks like he’s got vomit in his beard?

Inside the box is a gift—a vase, azure porcelain—though Jamie has no plans to send it across the Atlantic, to the Boston apartment where his ex-wife kisses another man. No. This vase will stay with Jamie, forever hidden on the high shelf of a closet, or exiled to the back corner of a desk drawer. Like his grief, it is something that he owns—this small cut from a cloth of unraveled dreams—to be kept and locked safely away. There, there, always there. All fancy people have vases.

Jamie wraps the box with his manuscript. One by one, he folds the pages over and under, seals the edges with tape to form an inch-thick layer. So much history around this small, delicate thing—their story, with the ending Jamie cannot use and which cannot be the truth. At last, he cuts the string of wool, which still drips from his sweater after all these years, and it rasps, Do we have time? Of course we do.

Finally, Jamie weeps—a mournful sound that joins the chorus of this great, big mountain—and ties a frayed, red bow.

____

(Jamie does not realize that Mary watches him from the bed. “Tell me about her,” she wants to say—for once a statement and not a question—but she does not. Instead, she calls to Jamie, presses her goosefleshed nakedness to his. And as they move together, slow but unfeeling, she pretends she is a vessel. Closes her eyes. Makes room for the ghost. I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp.)

____

Here, the idea of a writer’s retreat, the introduction, and the parentheticals (although those are also inspired by one of my favorite authors Kate Atkinson) are my lame attempts at trying to be Lauren Groff. Actually, the next handful of chapters are the result of my obsession with her novel Fates and Furies—which you should absolutely go read, right now.

One of my favorite parts about writing a modern AU is finding ways to fit in canon characters or references. I started this chapter having no idea who Jamie’s critique partner was, but it very quickly came together once there was a remote cabin, Jamie inside it, and a woman coming to visit him. I hope the reveal is at least somewhat...fun? The vase is also obviously a nod to Outlander, and, well, I’m assuming y’all caught on to Jamie’s character names (a bit on the nose, lmao).

I’m not crazy about this introduction (it’s...a bit much...but it’s meant to tie into the introduction of Chapter 1), but the final paragraph from Mary’s POV is actually one of my favorite paragraphs in the whole fic.

I also think I wrote this during a snowstorm, wheeeee!

#myfic #outlander #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser

69 notes · View notes

fixxofvixx · 4 years

Text

Stay With Me - Demon Leo AU - Chapter 24

Hello my dears, I meant to have this out earlier but to be honest, this has been a shit week for me and my family. If anyone is of the praying sort, I wouldn't refuse a few sent our way.🙏

I enjoy writing. It's my escape. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think~💖💖

😈😈😈😈😈😈

Your heart did backflips when you heard Leo call the woman 'mother'. You hadn't even met Leo's father but knew he was an evil demon. From what you had gathered from his mother, she was no different. However, she seemed to listen to the will of her son. Perhaps you didn't have to fear as much from her.

"Leo, sweetie, we need to talk about this. Marriage is a big decision. Ravi already sullied the Underworld with that human of his...." Her voice sounded annoyed as she ended her sentence with a sigh.

"Mother, speak again of my wife that way and I'll make sure you have a front row seat in the Underworld." Ravi appeared behind Leo, barely containing his rage.

"Your threats mean nothing to me. What do I have to fear from my own sons? I haven't heard from your father but I am sure he doesn't approve of this."

"That doesn't matter, I killed him." Leo stood, hauling you into his arms as he did. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his neck, hoping he would teleport you both out of this situation. Although, you were sure she could follow.

"YOU WHAT?!" You flinched when his mother screamed. Her voice echoed throughout the meadow. You heard a few birds escape from their trees, flapping wildly to get away.

"He attacked me, we fought, and we both died. Y/N sacrificed her soul for mine and was sent to the underworld. I went to get her back, Hakyeon offered his soul so she could come back here. End of story." Leo explained in a monotone voice and then turned to his brothers. "I'm going back to the house, you're welcome to come.

Ravi and Ken nodded, keeping a close eye on their mother. Apparently trust ran thin in their family.

"Let's go back home, okay?" You nodded and in an instant, you were back on the sofa. It seemed as if it had been a lifetime since you were on it even though it had been an hour or so. The dagger was still sitting on the end table where you had left it. You vowed never to touch it again.

A few seconds later, Ken popped in, as well as their mother.

"Ravi said to let him know if you needed anything, he's going to take those three down." Leo nodded and then looked at his mother.

"So, would you like to tell me why you're here and why you attacked my girlfriend?"

"Leo, dear, don't use that tone with me. You know very well why I'm here. The seal on the palace was broken. I thought that maybe your father had finally come so his senses but apparently it's because you murdered him."

"He came here and started the fight. I only defended what was mine. If the seal was broken, shouldn't you be with your lover?"

You eyes widened at the venom in Leo's voice. The story was thickening and you suddenly wanted to hide in your room.

"You dare!" Lightning sparks went off around the room and you instinctively braced yourself. Leo put his hand on the back of your head as he stood next to you, a gesture of reassurance.

"You know I do."

"At any rate, I couldn't go there because your father had him killed so what was the point. So, naturally, I came looking for my boys!"

"Nice to know that we came second." You could see the tiniest bits of black smoke hovering around Leo's feet and you knew that he was reigning in his anger.

"That isn't the point. What we need to discuss now is why this little idiot is in your forest, living as she pleases!"

"Watch your mouth." You looked up at Leo and saw his fangs descend just before his eyes changed. You squeezed his hand and he took a deep breath.

"But Leo, Cresenda is still waiting for you. She's been loyal all this time! How could abandon her...and your child?!"

You choked on the gasped of air that went down your throat the wrong way at his mother's words.

"Child...?" That one word was all you could manage.

"Yes, he's a lovely little boy! He--"

"Mother! Do you really think I believe all those lies?! He isn't mine!"

His mother ignored him and sat next to you.

"I'm afraid he is, my dear. Do you really think he's lived all this time without creating offspring? I don't know about you but I would hate to be the person that broke up a family." She patted your hand and looked at you with sorrowful eyes. You didn't believe a word of it. Before you could say something, Leo knelt down in front of you.

"Y/N-"

"If Leo says he isn't his, then he isn't. He wouldn't lie to me."

"Of all the outrageous...! I demand you leave at once! I will not see another one of my sons with a human!"

"I won't leave unless Leo asks me to." You had been through so much with Leo and you'd be damned if anyone would take that away.

"Do you realize what I could do to you? I have developed an art for torture most people have never even dreamt of!" His mother's smoke started to wrap around one of your hands but it was quickly taken over by black smoke. In almost an instant, black smoke swirled protectively around your body.

"Try it and you'll be dead before you even touch her." You looked up at Leo to see that he had gone full demon. His hair, eyes, claws, and even his wings were on display. He looked even more furious than when he had saved you in the town center.

"Leo, you need to come to your senses! Humans are the enemy! Why do you think your brothers are dead?!"

"Because father attacked one of the villages in search of a rumor of a powerful object. The people retaliated and went after the whole family. That's why. The humans didn't start anything."

"But they still think that way!"

"That was over 400 years ago! You have been sealed in the palace for the better part of 250 years. Don't you think that things have maybe changed?"

"But Leo--!"

"Enough. Must I banish you from my forest? We have a happy life here, don't try to destroy it as you usually do."

"You would banish your own mother? After all I've done for you?!" His mother's own smoke began to rise from her feet and her features began to change. Leo grabbed you hand and pulled to up to stand behind him.

"Don't try to delude everyone into thinking that you were a caring mother. You stuck around long enough to give birth to us and then carted us off to the nanny. We all are aware of why you were sealed in the palace. And if you dare to touch one hair on y/n's head, I will not hesitate to put you back in there, or under it. The choice is yours."

"You would turn your back on your own mother and betray the memory of your brothers who died at the hands of humans just to protect this lump of flesh?! You used to be the most ruthless out of your brothers. What happened?"

Although you had been called worse, hearing Leo's mother despise you so much sent a small pain through your heart. You supposed that you were destined to live in this world without any semblance of a mother.

"Out." Leo's quiet voice was scary. In his tone you could hear the pent up rage he was desperately trying to control.

"Leo!"

"OUT! NOW!" You flinched as his voice echoed loudly in the house. Ken, who had been silently watching from the other end of the room, stepped forward now.

"Mother, shall we go see Hakyeon? I'm sure he would love to see you." Ken placed a careful hand on his mother's arm.

"Yes, perhaps I should. At least he should see reason. He knows how humans are." After her statement, she huffed and then disappeared along with Ken.

You stood motionless, listening to the ragged breaths coming from Leo. He was seething. His hands were fists at his sides. His black smoke nearly covered the entire living room. Reaching out, you gently ran your fingers over his wings. After a few seconds, Leo took a deep breath and turned to you.

"Y/N..." He stood before you and took your face in his hands. You raised your eyes to see that the fangs were gone but his hair was still misplaced. "Are you alright?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was okay?"

"Not at all. I'm sorry. I had no idea that father's death would release her. Not to mention you had to deal with those hunters. I shouldn't have left so soon after you getting hurt."

"I'm a bit overwhelmed but I will be okay. Your mother seems pretty upset."

"I don't care. I only care about you and this forest. She has no say here." Leo leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled and circled your arms around his waist.

"I think we have a lot to talk about." Leo tensed and you raised your hands to his face now and curled them around his cheeks.

"Were you planning on telling me about your apparent girlfriend who is still pining away for you in some far off land?"

#vixx #taekwoon #leo #taekwoon fic #vixx fic #taekwoon au #vixx au #demon taekwoon

36 notes · View notes

stripper-patrick · 4 years

Text

Gallery🖼 Hardin Scott

Warnings: language, fluff, smut, light spanking, I liked this one😁

Tags: @mrsbanreswillseeyou

Relationship: Hardin Scott x black plus sized reader

“Y/N are you ready? We’re gonna be late” I finish touching up my hair making sure it looks nice. This new color has me self conscious.

I look in the mirror one last time at my overly thought out outfit. I nod in approval of the way my butt looks. I grab my purse and strap on my heels heading downstairs.

“You look nice” my mother smiles.

“Thanks”

....

We arrive at the huge mansion of the Scott’s. His father Ken Scott is the chancellor of England and somehow can still be in the states. Not my business. I’m dreading this because me and Hardin have had a small fling before. Ok by small I mean we caught feelings and by flint I mean talked and fucked multiple times but never dated. I haven’t seen him since I left for college last year.

I step out of the car and my father gives the valet man the keys letting him park it. I walk inside the house on my own seeing art displayed everywhere. They buy the art and either sell it to a different gallery for a smaller price or sell whatever money they make to charity.

Upon arrival I’m handed a glass of champagne. Granite I’m under the age but they don’t need to know all of that. I thank the waiter and walk all the way in. I take a sip of the dry liquid cringing at the burning sensation.

The glass gets taken from me by my mother “really”

“I know I’m more of a fireball kinda girl” I hear a snicker and that’s when I see him. Hardin Scott. The one who left my guts in another state and my heart broken. He looks nice in his maroon red button down and light grey pants with some white shoes.

“Sorry. Uh I’m Hardin you must be the Y/L/N’s pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand to mine making eye contact and I shake his hand staying quiet.

He shakes my dad and moms hand smiling at them. Ken comes over with a drink for my father which he gladly accepts while his mother Trisha accompanies my mom.

I look to see Hardin already staring at me “would you like to at the art?”

“Yes please” he takes me to the back where there are these huge extravagant pieces. I’m just in awe.

“These are amazing” I smile “I love this one” I point to a painting of which could easily represent black excellence. It’s so beautiful. I look at the price tag and see $23,000 on it “OOP never mind”

“You are still so beautiful” I look at him

“Don’t do that” I say

“Do what? Try to make a conversation after you left? I miss you if I’m being honest”

“You can’t miss me if you’re the one that wanted to end whatever it was we had”

“Well I regret it and I admit to my wrong doings” he steps closer to me “you still smell of vanilla. I wonder if you taste like it too”

I clamp my legs together involuntarily biting my lip. I’ve missed his tongue game.

“Hardin”

“I miss you more than you’ll ever know. No ones had my back the way you did Y/N” he leans down kissing the side of my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck fully kissing him.

“Meet me in the sun room” he smiles. Hardin kisses me one more time before dipping off into the crowd.

I make a left and go to the sunroom where there are a lot more paintings. By his mother it’s one of her hobbies. After about 10 minutes I’m about to get restless and leave. This was a mistake.

I stand up and I’m about to touch the door knob when it turns and the door opens. I back up and see Hardin walking in “we’re you about to leave”

“Yes I thought you weren’t coming” I fold my arms

“I’m sorry I got caught up handling some business” I roll my eyes and he puts his hand on my waist pulling me closer. “I’m sorry but what I just did you won’t regret”

He kisses me again. Gotdamn it I’m under his spell again. Hardin pushes us back until we fall on the bed. He lifts my dress and smiles at me in the middle of the kiss.

I can feel his pants straining at his hard-ok just waiting to be released. I move my hand between us and rub him through his tight pants. He moans in my mouth and now it’s my turn to smile.

I flip us over and focus my attention to his pants. Hardin sits up and slides my dress over my body. He kisses my collarbone and rubs my dripping pussy through my thin underwear. I finally get his pants undone and I unbutton his shirt. The artwork on his body never ceased to amaze me. My favorite was the tattoo on his hand. So intricate. I grab him stroking him a few times before going in his wallet and grabbing a condom. I grab the dick and slide it into me moaning. It feels like home when I’m with him... or in this case on him. Like he was meant to be with me.

He wraps his arm around my waist and thrusts upwards into me while I bounce down on him. The chatter of outside is luckily loud enough to cease everyone else from hearing our moans.

“Fuck Y/N” I loved when he moans my name. I own him now.

I rock on him harder occasionally swirling my hips. I’ve missed this feeling of him being inside of me. I never knew I’d have to admit that.

He slaps my ass gripping it afterwards making me moan. Hardin leans back on the pillows and I put my hands on his chest riding him harder. I let out a breathy moan.

“You’re so beautiful” I huff a ‘mhmm’ feeling the sunlight warm my skin.

“Don’t stop” I’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. He was always the dominant one and it was seldom if I took control like this.

“I miss you so much oh my god” I moan

“Look at you so beautiful on top of me” he moans. His grip on my hips will definitely leave a bruise. Hardin sits up again this time thrusting harder into me. I moan louder and just before I’m at the point of screaming he covers my mouth. He sucks a patch of skin and my legs begin shaking nearing my climax.

“Awww are you about to cum on me?” I nod moaning. He lets go and holds my butt cheeks open and starts drilling me.

“H-Hardin I’m cumming” I moan. That billsful moment that I haven’t felt in a long time. It always feels different with him.

“Make a mess all over me darling” he closes his eyes and grunts. I watch his stomach tense as he empties his load inside the condom.

My legs are still shaking feeling the aftershock and I smile at him. His beautiful eyes look at mine and he seals our space with a kiss.

“I wanna do this with-“

“Hardin?” I hear his father calling for him.

“Hold on” he yells back. I get off of him and slide my dress back on while he re-buttons his shirt and fixes his pants.

“Can you zip me back up?” I ask. He zips my dress and kisses my shoulder

“I wanna do this with you Y/N. For real this time”

“I don’t wanna be hurt again Hardin” I say “go out first”

He looks at me nodding before walking out first. I lean on the door sighing. “Where were you?” His father asks

“I needed a minute to myself” he lies

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Bathroom maybe?”

I wait a couple minutes before I emerge and sneak behind my parents. “There you are. Did you see anything?”

“I saw a lot” I smile

....

It’s been a week since me and Hardin’s rendezvous and I haven’t called him. What if I get hurt again? What if it’s just like last time?

I’m sitting in my room listening to music when I hear someone knock on the door. “Come in”

My mom emerges with a huge package and a smile “it’s for you”

I sit up and she leaves it on my bed. She shuts the door leaving me along again and I see a note attached to it.

‘I hope this proves that I won’t hurt you H’

I open the box and see the painting I fell in love with at the galley. I gasp and pull it out all the way. This is really mine.

I grab my phone and call Hardin. He picks up on instant and I can hear the smile in his voice “hello love”

“Hi Hardin. I just got your package”

“Ah that is the one you wanted right?”

“Yes but I- I don’t know what to say H. I can’t possibly take this”

“Nonsense. It’s yours and that’s the bottom line” he chuckles “it’s a peace offering”

“So me letting you be inside of me wasn’t enough peace?”

“It was but that was physical I want your mental and emotional peace. I want you”

I smile looking down “then you got me”

#smut #fluff #after #hardin scott smut #hardin scott #after we collided #feb 17

170 notes · View notes

khaosgaming22 · 4 years

Text

You Are Here- Part III

Kenneth ran down the hallway dodging out of the way of any Guardians trying to head toward the dormitory elevator and sprinted to a door. He stopped to catch his breath for a second and started knocking on the door. No answer, shit. He tried again, he could hear the shower running and loud opera music playing. She was definitely home, but there was no time for this. He took out his knife and picked the lock to the door, after a few quick tries it opened and he walked inside the two-guardian dorm closing the door behind him. Didn’t want anyone to hear this.

He heard the shower stop and the music get a bit quieter, he could then hear her humming along to it. He waited outside the door not wanting to intrude anymore than he already had until she came out in a lavender bathrobe and saw him.

“Hello... Ken? What are you doing in our dorm?” Ken took a breath.

“I need to talk to you about something and ask a few questions.” He answered.

“Couldn’t it have waited till I was dressed?” She pouted and Ken shook his head.

“Not this time. It’s about Drake.” Drake? The person she hadn’t seen for at least a week now? Now that she thought about it, missions lasted a while even Vanguard but a week was unusual.

“Let me just put something on, nothing fancy, just some clothes and we can talk okay?” Ken nodded and sat down at a two person table as she went to change. He looked around at the place, things had definitely changed. There were pictures of the two up now and a few books about music were in between research journals on the bookshelf. ...Oh and there was a Vex arm.

Torra sat down across from Ken while he was looking around.

“Okay so, whats going on?” She asked and Ken pulled out a small scrap of torn Warlock robe colored in yellow and brown.

“My house was broken into, whoever the thief was was very careful, they only took one thing but they were also a bit sloppy and the weapon must’ve ripped off a piece of their clothing.” Torra listened and nodded.

“Wh- What did they take?”

“My Thorn.”

Thorn. The weapon all Guardians feared, once wielded by the dreaded Dredgen Yor, Ken had made his own before with the help of Shin as an experiment. To see if he could hold both Light and Dark without it consuming him. He must’ve succeeded if it was in a place so simple as his own home. But now it was gone and that piece of cloth was looking awfully familiar as she stared down at it...

“I don’t know for sure. But... I think Drake has turned Dredgen.”

...Draaaake...

...Draaaaaake...

WAKE UP.

Drake awoke in a combat arena made entirely of jagged black edges, he could see engravings etched into the stone. He saw his opponent, a lowly Taken Vandal nothing he hadn’t seen already. He went to reach for his Corrupted Thorn but his arm was stopped.

“No Draeko. No weapon this time. You must become the weapon.” The voice spoke, Drake obeyed. He charged the Vandal as it took sniper shots at him, the rounds hit but they had seemingly no effect as he reached out with his hands, took the Vandal’s rifle and shot him with his own weapon. It all happened within seconds, then the voice came back for approval.

“Good. Now let’s try two stronger targets.”

And Drake blacked out again.

Ken flew the ship toward where they thought Drake would be, all they had was some journals and advice from Eris but they were sure it had to be the moon of Jupiter that a pyramid ship was parked over. Torra sat in the seat next to him shaking a bit and hiding in her robes. Ken could tell she was afraid, hell he was too. This was probably the craziest thing he had done since the Moon, but at least he wasn’t alone this time and he had no choice, they had taken Drake. And his stuff! He wasn’t gonna let that slide.

“Like the new ship? He asked trying to lighten the mood a bit. Torra gave a small shrug as she held the necklace Drake gave her close. They could see the ship now, it’s monstrous presence loomed over the place where humanity once was, where the Traveller once blessed above, now it’s enemy sat and withered away. Ken took another breath and sent the ship in toward the pyramid. For a split second a Hive portal opened swallowing the ship and moving them elsewhere, then just as quick they were back.

“What the hell just happened?” Ken asked stabilizing the craft.

“I... I don’t know, I think someone or some thing is trying to keep us from going any further.” Ken got the ship back on course, he saw a landing platform open up on the side of the pyramid. Whatever was in there, wanted them closer.

Ken set down the ship and loaded his Sacramento, he felt cold as he descended down to make contact with the pyramid. Not like the temperature dropped, no more like something was disrupting the heat from getting to him. His light felt weak, when he tried to light the dark hallway his fire were only sparks. The architecture of the pyramid was dark, sharp, edgy. He decided he shouldn’t take Chase out unless absolutely necessary and told Torra the same.

The hallway was lit by red lights that looked like eyes peering into his soul. It was the creepiest place Ken had ever saw, but they had to find Drake. Torra stayed close behind dancing small waves of Void light across her palm, it kept her feeling like she was in control of something. Some modicum of safety in this wrong place.

They must’ve been walking for hours, Ken had left a trail of knives to find their way back to the ship once they found him. Then they came across a large room with a figure sitting on his knees in the middle. The walls closed off. They were trapped in the room. The figure stood up and turned to them, they wore tattered and cracked Warlock gear in yellow and brown. At least that’s what it looked like, it was hard to tell in so little of light.

“Drake!”

“Wait Torra-“ Drake put out a palm and pushed her away unmoved. Torra flew backwards and hit the wall next to Kenneth. Whoever this was, it was clearly not Drake.

“Why... who what happened to him? Why would he do that to me...” Torra sobbed and Ken shook his head.

“Whatever happened on this ship, it turned him into something else. That may be Drake but it isn’t him...” He looked back at his former friend as he sat back down on his knees again. “Torra I’m sorry but we’re gonna have to fight him.”

“What?!”

“It’s the only way to get him to snap outta this. Or... only way I see it working at least.” Torra said nothing. “I’ll keep him busy while you try and knock him out.” Torra was unmoved, there had to be another way. Ken stood up and lit his Hunter knife with as much fire as he could gather and rushed him.

Drake stood up using his palm to force his attacker away but Ken dodged and was able to get a slash in. It didn’t seem to do much of anything and Drake kicked Kenneth in the side, as he fell to the floor he threw the knife and it landed a direct hit in his arm. Drake looked down at the knife and tried to pull it out as Ken struggled to get back up. His vision was clouded but he saw Torra tackle him to the ground and rip his hood off.

“DRAKE!” She yelled through tears. “Drake I know you’re still in there, you have to fight it!” Drake pushed her off of him and punched her in the jaw. She bled a bit from her nose and it disoriented her but she wasn’t giving up that easily. She Blinked in front of him and kicked him in the ribs, probably cracked a few but they would heal once she could get out of this horrible place with him.

As they fought Ken held his side and looked off into a corner of the room covered in shadow, another figure smiled creepily as he watched them fight. Ken looked a bit closer and the figure came into view, another Warlock.

“You...” He groaned trying to sit up. “You’re the reason he’s doing this, I dunno who the hell you think you are but I will kill you.” The former Warlock stepped out of the shadows with a sword that was lit ablaze. A Dawnblade.

“You are different. You aren’t like your comrade over there, no.... You are not afraid of the Dark.”

“If you’re referring to wheather I give a damn about Light and Dark and using their power I don’t. But I know that the Darkness can do horrible things to people. I’ve seen it.”

“You clearly misunderstand the balance then, so-called Symmetrist. For if you believe you cannot have Light without Dark, you would embrace it as you have the Gardener’s gift.”

“Having Light and Dark is fine but I’ll decide the balance. Now get lost and leave my friend alone you shadowed creep.” He spat.

“There are things your friend has not told you. You see, you may be his friend, but I am his creator. And now that he is here he will be reunited. His training has been a bit... shaky but he will improve.”

“I don’t care if you’re his third cousin’s aunt’s brother twice removed, you’re evil. And we will put an end to you once we save him.” The shadow chuckled dryly.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Like this. TORRA NOW!” Ken threw a Tripmine Grenade behind the Warlock and summoned his Goldengun, putting six rounds through him causing him to fall onto the grenade and disorient him for a bit. Drake’s corruption lifted slightly and Torra finished the job as tears streamed down her face. Drake blacked out as Kenneth stood above his father and twirled a knife around.

“You... you were-“

“Distracting you, biding my time, waiting for my Light to build. Any of those work. Once I saw that you actually bothered to show up and were tangible I just had to get back to full strength. It’s just now that you notice the red lights are a bit dimmer? Heh, for a former Warlock you aren’t a very good one.”

“Don’t you dare speak of that INFERNAL title again!” He shouted angrily. “The Light forced me into a role, now I have the power to play my own. The Dark offers freedom don’t you simpletons get i-“ Ken shot him in the head.

“You talk too much.”

Drake came to shortly after dazed and confused.

“Where... where am I? Torra? Ken-“ He stopped. “KEN GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

“Relax man, I just shot him. He’s dead in the dirt.” Drake shook his head.

“No, no it would never be that easy. You may have killed that form but he will continue to exist wherever there’s Darkness.”

“The boy is half right.” A whispered voice spoke to all three of them as the crumpled mess of Drake’s former father picked himself back up. “Did you really think I could be killed with simple weaponry like that? Ha! Not likely. Though that handcannon of yours did leave a mark, there must be something special about it. In any case, take my failure of a son, if he could not beat two Lightbearers then he is not worthy to continue. For now I take my leave, I will find another blade to sharpen...” He sneered holding Drake’s Dawnblade in his hands. Ken shot him with a rocket launcher but he shielded himself in a cloud of Darkness and disappeared.

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny oc #fireteam misfits #bungie #destiny the game #destiny darkness

8 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Adrien, Agreste No Longer: Chapter 2 - First Impressions

Marinette struggles with disappointment. Chat Noir makes some new friends.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 (Final)

Read on Ao3

“I’m really sorry about this, Marinette.”

“N-no! Don’t be! It’s not like you wanted this to happen, right?”

“Definitely not,” he replied with a conviction Marinette could feel in her heart. “But you know how my father gets.”

“R-right,” Marinette said in a whisper. How she could have ever looked up to that man as a fashion role model as beyond her. The more she found out about him the more broken that pedestal became. “So… I guess I’ll see you at school then?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said wistfully. “At least I’ll see you there. Good night, Marinette.”

“Night, Adrien.” She hung up and set her phone down. With a groan she face planted into her bed and curled up into the fetal position.

They had such big plans for that night! It would’ve just been the four of them having a blast, doing some good work. Maybe that was going to be the night she confessed. And maybe they would have started dating from there. But if even that plan, so long in the making, had been foiled, was there any hope for them after all?

Now, more than ever, their three kids and a hamster never felt further away…

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Marinette raised her head to look up at her kwami. “I just… How can Mr. Agreste be so callous? You should have heard how disappointed Adrien was.” She sat up, still clutching a pillow to her chest like a lifeline. “And the way he said it! It was almost like he was used to his father being so cruel.”

“No arguments here.” Tikki settled on Marinette’s shoulder, rubbing comforting circles on her chosen’s cheek. “Living under Gabriel’s roof must be plain awful.”

Marinette shook her head in disbelief. “How can such a mean man raise such a sweet, kind hearted boy?”

“Who knows? Maybe the good in him is stronger than the evil around him. But look on the bright side!” Tikki flew in front of her. “Adrien might not be able to go, but you and Alya and Nino still can! This might be your chance to meet your idol!”

“Do you think so?” Marinette slowly let go of her pillow as a smile spread across her face. “That would be so cool! Barbie has had such a huge impact on the fashion world over the years, it would be an honor to meet her.”

“And even better if she sees what great work you’ve done on your own clothes!”

Marinette gasped. “That reminds me! I need to get to work on that skirt if its going to be ready by then!”

“Then let’s get to it! You’re going to knock Mrs Roberts off her feet with these designs!”

“Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette said with a giggle. “I’d be happy with just a passing compliment. Let’s work on just getting it done first, though.”

---------------

After calling all of his friends, Adrien just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be doing any homework. He didn’t even expect anyone to actually check in to see if he had made any progress anyway, so what was the point? Instead, he found his eyes being drawn to the wide open window in his room, and the sun sinking below the horizon.

“You wanna go for a run, kid?” Plagg spoke up from a spot on his desk and with one final gulp finished off the last of his camembert wedge. “You look like you could use it.”

“Do you… do you think Ladybug might be out there?” Adrien sure could use someone to talk to. Someone that he hadn’t disappointed today.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Only one way to find out, right? Besides,” Plagg added with a smirk, “you’re the hero of Paris during the night. This is your time to shine, kid.”

After tapping his pencil against the desk at a breakneck pace for a few minutes, it came to a sudden stop. “You know what? I think I could use a few hours of not being Adrien. Plagg, claws out!”

The familiar rush of power flooded through him and he leaped from his window into the waiting city. These runs were becoming more and more regular as his father became more and more controlling. They were a great way to burn off his frustration as he bounded across rooftops and soared across the city with swings of his staff. But even with his superhuman strength and endurance, he couldn’t run forever.

He perched on top of a street sign and watched the meager traffic flow below him. This late at night, in this part of the city, there weren’t many people on the streets, and even fewer people with their eyes looking up. With no sign of his lady, it looked like Chat Noir was alone tonight.

Or, at least, that’s what he thought until a voice called out to him from the street.

“Hello? Chat Noir?” The female voice was clear and cheerful, like the ringing of a silver bell. He looked down and easily found the source - a middle-aged blonde woman who was looking remarkably fashionable in a bright pink outfit. At her side was a man of a similar age wearing a white shirt with bright blue stripes.

“Good evening!” Eager at the chance for company, Chat jumped down to street level. He gave a playful bow. “How can the famous Chat Noir help you this fine night?”

“Oh! Nothing in particular,” she began. “I was just so happy to see you! We’ve only just arrived in Paris, but we’ve heard all about you and Ladybug.”

“I’m just as excited as you, Barbie,” the man added with a big smile as he squeezed the woman close. “Seeing one of the heroes after being here for just a few minutes is one heck of a great sign!”

It all suddenly clicked for Chat. “Barbie…? As in, Barbie Roberts?”

With a radiant smile, Barbie nodded. “The same! I’m glad you’ve heard of me.”

Chat snorted. “It’d be hard not to hear about you, with everything you’ve done.” His eyes widened as he frantically began patting his pockets. “Shoot, I wish I had something for you to sign. One of my friends is a huge fan of yours.”

There was a knowing smirk on the man’s face. “I think I can guess who. By the way, I’m Ken.” He held out his hand.

“There was no doubt in my mind about that, sir,” Chat said as he took his hand. “I can’t imagine anyone else being as close to Barbie.”

Ken laughed. “That’s a bigger compliment than you know, kiddo! Anyway, we wanted to tell you what a great job we think you’re doing fighting the good fight.”

“We’re doing what we can, but…” Chat’s ears drooped. “I don’t know when we’ll ever get to Hawkmoth himself. He’s really good at staying hidden.”

A look passed between Ken and Barbie. Ken placed a hand on Chat’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’re in your corner one hundred percent. We’ve got our own beef with that man.” Anger fluttered across Ken’s normally sunny expression.

“Really? What did he do to you?”

Barbie’s smile was gone when she replied, “It was about fifteen years ago, in Tibet. We had a run in with him. We think he stole… something very important to us. We’re hoping to bring him to justice and get back what’s ours.”

“Oh no… I’m so sorry.” Chat frowned. Who would possibly have something against the Roberts? They were such kind people - it was unthinkable! Squaring his jaw in his best imitation of a heroic look, he added, “Ladybug and I will double down on trying to find Hawkmoth! You have my promise!”

Their smiles were warm and genuine. Barbie surprised him by wrapping him in a tight hug. “That’s very sweet of you, Chat. And let me make a promise in return.” She took a step back, but left her hands on his shoulders. “We will do everything in our power to help you. Just say the word and we’ll be there for you two.”

Chat’s heart swelled. They said their goodbyes and he rushed home.

Now he really wished he could talk to Ladybug and let her know the good news. He frowned in thought as he landed in his room. Something about Barbie’s story - the time, the location - felt incredibly familiar. Maybe Ladybug would know when he brought it up during the next patrol.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Chat Noir #Plagg #Barbie #Ken #barbie: life in the dreamhouse #ml fanfiction #my writing #Adrien Agreste No Longer

46 notes · View notes

shewritestheblues · 5 years

Text

The Elevator Bae | Chapter NINE

Chapter NINE - PART ONE

EIGHT

Erik Stevens x Black OC (Phoenix)

Word Count: Idk. 5k... I think.

A/N: I didn’t want this chapter to be too long, so it’ll be broken up into two parts. | Song lyrics referenced are not my own. They are from Mila J x Friend Zone. ** Major S/O to my good sis @liyahshaeking for helping me figure out how I wanted to start this and proofreading this for me. You are a Gem! and reminder: this is my side blog and all further chapters and other fics will be posted from this page.

Erik’s face beamed with joy as he looked at his phone. Phoenix had just sent him a mirror video, showing off her bright, red bikini. She whips her box braids off of her shoulder, revealing a familiar gold chain around her neck. Music was playing in the background and just before the video ends, Erik spots one of her friends dancing behind her, photobombing her video. Without a second thought, he saved the video before playing it again, making sure the sound isn’t on. But that wasn’t enough for him. He needed to see more of her. He bit his lip as he shamelessly goes right to Phoenix’s instagram. Ironically, she had just uploaded a group picture with all of her friends on the beach. Each of them looking perfectly tanned as they glowed under the sun. They were cute, Erik could admit that. But his baby girl was the cutest. He used his chubby thumbs to zoom in right on her. The smile she wore, made his heart flutter. She was happy. Her being happy, made him happy. Just as he was about to tap her profile picture to get caught up with her story, a voice brought him back into reality.

“Damn, E! She’s cute.”

Erik was suppose to be hanging with ‘the boys.’ They were currently at TJ’s house smoking, talking shit and playing 2k. Well… that’s what everyone else was doing. Erik was currently, laid back onto TJ’s couch, cuddling with his phone. He was so caught up in Phoenix’s video, he didn’t even realize that he was the topic of the shit talk. TJ, Mario, Ken and Ken’s girlfriend, Stephanie, who was deemed ‘one of the bros’, were going in on him. Without even noticing, Stephanie had made her way behind Erik and was watching as he pretty much drooled over Phoenix.

Erik whipped his head around to see Stephanie leaned over the couch, watching his every move. His nostrils flared at how comfortable she seemed behind him.

“Do you know what privacy is? Damn!”

His friends burst into laughter causing Erik to realize that this was a set up. Stephanie was chosen to spy on Erik to see who in the hell was on his phone making him grin and cheese like a kid with a grade school crush. He glared at all of them as they fell over.

“Y’all childish as hell.” he says, shaking his head.

TJ walks over to Erik, sitting next to him. “So is this a new one?”

“Mhmm. I ain’t never seen this one before.” Stephanie chimes in.

Erik cuts his eye at her. “Why does it matter?”

“We’re just trying to find out which one of your hoes finally got you stuck.” Mario says from the kitchen.

“She ain’t a hoe, so watch your fucking mouth.”

Stephanie continues to lean over the couch, scrolling on her phone. She was able to see Phoenix’s IG name from when she was towering over Erik’s shoulder, watching him examine her latest upload. She was currently scoping out Phoenix’s page. “Where you find her at, E? She looks like she has morals.”

Confused, Erik looks at Stephanie. “Fuck you mean?”

She holds up her phone, displaying a selfie that Phoenix had on her page. TJ snatches the phone and starts looking through the pics, prompting Mario and Ken to join.

“Damn, E! She’s nice.” Ken says.

Erik tries to take Stephanie’s phone from them but TJ grips it tighter to stop him. “How the fuck did you even find her page?”

Stephanie laughs, “I peeped it when you were zooming in on her ass.”

“I fucking hate y’all.”

“You need to be plugging me with one of her friends.” Mario says, licking his lips at some of the group pictures Phoenix has with her friends. He points to Camren. “She looks like she needs me.”

TJ shows Erik who Mario is referring to and Erik sucks his teeth. “She gay. She doesn't need or want yo’ ugly ass.” He reaches for the phone again. “Are y’all done?”

TJ moves back quick, giving Stephanie her phone. “How long you been fucking with her?”

Erik doesn’t respond. He sits there looking forward. His face is blank. He’s annoyed that they now know about Phoenix. He wanted to keep her to himself for as long as possible and now they know. Now, they would be asking about her. They have her social media info and knowing Stephanie, she would reach out to introduce herself. She was always ignoring boundaries. A part of it is because the guys were her only friends. So, when one of the guys had a new lady friends, she would insert herself, trying to make friends with them. This has happened to Erik three times now. But of course, those girls were just fuck buddies. This was Phoenix. Big difference.

“Aw, it’s her birthday?” Stephanie says from behind him. Erik looks back to see what she’s talking about.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m watching her story.”

--------

Phoenix and her girls had made plans to go out to dinner at a local restaurant. They were all in their rooms, getting ready. Music is blasting through their villa home as she slipped on her navy blue, floral romper. She unwrapped her braids and put on Erik’s gold chain. She figured she’d give it back after her trip since it seemed to go with all of her outfits. Applying some mascara and her Fenty highlighter, she just needed to decide on what shoes to wear. Wedges or Sandals. She picked up both pairs of shoes and heads up the hallway to see what her friends would think.

Peeking into each of their rooms, she notices that they are all missing. In true Phoenix nature, her mind takes her to the worst case possible. They were kidnapped and killed and because the music is so loud, she didn’t hear a thing and now she has to escape before the killer gets to her. She tiptoes down the marble stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible to listen out for anything going on downstairs.

Suddenly, she hears movement coming from the kitchen and the music stops. Phoenix is internally freaking out. She stopped in her tracks to peek around the wall and releases the breath she was holding when she sees Ava’s back, standing at the kitchen island. She walks in, shoes in hand. Tiana was the first to see her and yells, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Queuing Ava, Mica and Camren to start yelling Happy Birthday at her and popping a few confetti cannons. Big silver balloons hung over them, spelling out BLUE 28. Phoenix’s heart is glowing through her chest as she smiles so big at her friends. Her eyes begin to water when she sees a cake on the counter. “Oh my God. Y’all didn’t have to do this. This is Camren’s trip.”

Phone in hand, recording the entire thing, Ava grabs Phoenix with her free hand to hug her. “Did you really think we weren’t gonna do anything for you?”

“This is both of our trip.” Camren adds.

Phoenix hugs and thanks each of them. Mica pulls out a tiara and a Birthday Girl sash, putting them on Phoenix. “You look so pretty.” She looks down at the shoes that Phoenix is still holding on to, “And wear these.” She points to the sandals. “You’re getting fucked up tonight. You won’t be able to walk in those wedges.”

“SHOTS!” Camren yells. Ava lines the shot glasses up and Tiana fills them up that they overflow.

One shot. Two shot.

“Let’s go eat.” Phoenix says. The car arrives to take them to the restaurant and they go. Her birthday was the only time Phoenix would eat steak, so she ordered the biggest one they had. As they enjoyed their food, they drank drink after drink and had three more shots, each. With liquor pumping through their bodies, the women were hyped and ready to move their bodies. Mica lead them all to the dance floor on the other side of the bar and they danced. The natives of the island danced with them, cheering them on as they twerked on each other. A few native men joined them. One in particular noticed the tiara on her head. “It’s your birthday, love?” he asked.

His accent intrigued Phoenix. “Yes it is.”

“How old are you?” he smiled. His teeth were the purest white. His skin was a beautiful mocha. He whined his hips with hers as they danced and talked.

“I’m 28.”

“Can I show you a good time for your birthday, Ms…?

“Phoenix.”

“Oh, Phoenix. I like that.”

Phoenix nods in approval. The mystery guy motions to the DJ and a new song begins. The man places both hands on Phoenix’s hips, bending her over and grinding on her to the beat. He turns her around, picking her up.

“Oh, bitch!” Mica yells eagerly, recording the pair. Ava cheers them on. When the song was over, Phoenix’s covers her smiling face in embarrassment, walking back to her friends.

The mystery man then sends each of them another round of drinks on him. They raise their cups to him in gratitude. They continued to dance on each other.

-------

Ava did her best to stay awake to make sure they made it back to their villa safely. The rest of them were knocked out. Mica would come to every few minutes and then pass out again. The sound of a phone vibrating, stirred Phoenix. She sat up, digging in her bra for her phone.

INCOMING CALL ERIK

“Hello.” that one word was slurred.

“You got me fucked up.” Erik’s voice boomed through the phone.

“Erik…” she dragged his name like a song, “Hey babe.” Mica’s head snapped up when she heard his name. Phoenix can barely hold the phone up to her face so she puts it on speaker, not at all expecting what was coming next.

“Don’t fucking babe me when you down there showing yo’ ass. Who the fuck is this ugly ass nigga you letting feel on yo’ ass?”

“What?”

“Oh you wanna play stupid now? Like you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Is that Erik?” Camren lifts her head from the car window, “Tell him to shut up.”

“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?”

“Erik. Relax.” is all Phoenix could get out.

“Yo’ ass need to relax. Letting random niggas fuck on you.”

A group of voices is heard from Erik’s background. “Is that Phoenix? Hey Phoenix.”

“Who is that?”

There’s a pause on Erik’s end.

“Hello? Erik. Who is that?”

“Nobody.” his voice is now low compared to before. Almost like he’s whispering.

Mica rolls her eyes. “Can this nigga go find something to do? We’re busy.”

“I can find something to do, alright. I’ll fly down there right now and drag all y’all thot asses back here and ruin all that shit. Think I’m playing.”

“Erik…” Phoenix calls to him.

“Let me see you dancing with another nigga, Phoenix. I promise you that’s yo’ ass.”

That was all that Erik could get out before Phoenix’s phone dies. She stares at the black screen for a moment before putting it back into her bra.

-----------

The next morning was rough. As the women sat and ate breakfast, Phoenix sat with her plate on the floor next to a plug to charge her phone. She didn’t remember her phone dying but when it turned on, her heart dropped. Four missed calls from Erik and six text. He had never blown her phone up like this before. What happened last night? She thought.

Erik: Phoenix! Answer yo’ fucking phone.

Erik: Yo’ shit better be dead.

Erik: On Bast, I will fuck you and that nigga up Phoenix. I’m not playing.

There’s almost a two hour wait before the next set of messages.

Erik: Philly.

Erik: I’m sorry baby girl. I shouldn’t blown up on you like that. I know you wouldn’t be down there on some crazy shit.

Erik: Just call me back.

He’s sorry? Really? Phoenix’s palms grew hot reading the messages. This screams red flags for her and she’s not with any of it. Her thumbs moved quickly texting him back.

Phoenix: Wow Erik. You are really full of shit. Don’t you ever crack open your lips to talk to me that way. I’m not one of these basic bitches that you’re use to fucking with. I won’t deal with any of that kind of disrespect. Keep your stupid ass sorry because I don’t want it. Do me a favor and don’t call or text me. Leave me alone.

Phoenix figured Erik would still try to contact her after that, so she proceeded to put her phone on airplane mode. If he wanted to be this way, he’d have to deal with the consequences of it. She slammed her phone down, gaining the attention of her friends, sitting at the table. They watched as she joined them at the table, sharing a few glances. They could read the frustration all over her face. She silently added more food to her plate and angrily stabbed her fork into her waffles as she ate.

“Is everything okay?” Ava asked.

“I am done with Erik.”

---------

**the night before**

After more stalking of Phoenix and her friends pages to see what they were doing on the trip, Erik sees a video of Phoenix and the mystery man on Mica’s page. He stepped away from his friends, into the kitchen to call Phoenix. Although the kitchen wasn’t secluded from them at all. He planned on being rational about the situation but when she answered, his emotions took full control and his mouth started moving faster than his brain. Barking out, “You got me fucked up,” which drew the attention of his friends sitting just feet away in the living room. Hearing how her words slurred, he knew she was drunk but that didn’t stop him from continuing to lash out.

His friends, not realizing the seriousness of Erik’s feelings, yell out, “Hey Phoenix.” Erik snarls at them, getting the message through to them that right now isn’t the time for their bullshit. When Phoenix’s phone hangs up on him, his rage reaches a new level for the night. He calls her again and again, reaching her voicemail. His thumbs smash his keyboard sending her messages. Not receiving any responses from her, he decides it’s time for him to leave. He begins storming out of TJ’s home. TJ follows behind him.

“Aye man. E!” TJ calls out to Erik as he approaches his car in TJ’s driveway. Erik turns around without saying a word. “What the fuck just happend?” TJ continued.

“Nothing. I’m good.” Erik tries to avoid this conversation. He opens his car door, but TJ closes it shut, prompting Erik to glare at him.

“Do I look stupid to you? How long have I known you?” TJ asks.

TJ and Erik grew up together. They both lived in the same building before Erik’s dad was killed. TJ was his closest and only friend after that. He was the only person he stayed in constant contact with during his stay in foster care. Erik would sneak out most nights and stay with TJ and his mom at their place. These two ran the streets together until Erik went away to school and the NAVY. They were like two peas in a pod. TJ knew Erik better than any person on the planet ever could. He knew when something was wrong with his friend.

Erik stood there between TJ and his car. He had nothing to say, but at this point, he knew TJ wasn’t going to let it go.

“You know you tripping, right?” TJ continued.

“I’m tripping? Nah, fuck that. She’s tripping! Letting some nigga be all on her like that.”

“E! C’mon man, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

“You acting like she was fucking the nigga or something.”

“She might as well had been.” Erik stepped closer to TJ, bringing them eye to eye.

“See man, that’s your problem.”

“My problem?” Erik cuts him off, “What’s my problem, huh?”

“Just snapping for no damn reason. You’ve always done this stupid shit. Shoot now and ask questions later. That shit might work out on the field but that’s now how shit works in real life, E. You’ll run that girl off just like you run damn near everybody else off with that shit.”

Erik kissed his teeth, “Man, fuck on.”

“I always told you that you needed to calm the fuck down. It’s gon’ come back and bite you in the ass.”

“Oh, I guess Kayla leaving your bum ass made you a relationship expert.” Erik spat.

Kayla was TJ’s ex. They were together for five years until Kayla broke up with TJ about six months ago. TJ was always putting work first and cheated on Kayla while doing so. When she had enough, she left and never came back. The breakup was still fresh for TJ, so it was a low blow for Erik to bring it up.

“Yeah, E! It fucking did.” Erik could see the anger in TJ now. He had triggered him. “I fucked up and now I’m not trying to see my nigga fuck up his own situation. I ain’t never seen you act like this over no female, so clearly you like her. But honestly, I wouldn’t even blame her for getting rid of your dumb ass. You got too much baggage.”

Erik was done listening to what TJ had to say and started getting into his car. This time TJ didn’t stop him, he just continued to talk.

“Go ahead and walk away. Just like you always do. You can never face your shit, Erik. You can’t run away from your demons.” he shouts as Erik starts his car and pulls out of his driveway and driving off.

Erik raced through the semi empty streets of LA. It was pretty late so not many people were on the road. He dipped in and out of lanes, making his drive home a quick one. He entered his penthouse and headed straight to the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. The video of Phoenix dancing with another man playing in his head over and over followed by TJ’s last few words to him. You can’t run away from your demons. He stepped out of the shower and laid his bare body across his bed. As if a wave of calmness rolled over his space, he suddenly felt… foolish. He knew he overreacted. He replayed the nights events over to see where everything went left. He sent Phoenix another text, apologizing before closing his tired eyes and drifting off to sleep.

-----

When Erik woke up the next morning, he hadn’t received anything from Phoenix. Was she pissed? Was her phone still dead? Every kind of scenario possible ran through his mind. He barely got through his morning workout because of his overthinking. He would stop between sets checking his phone for any new notifications, even though his phone wasn’t on silent and would alert him if he had any. He decided to turn his phone off, leaving it in his bedroom while he locked himself in his office to work.

Hours had passed before he finally stepped back out of his office. The urge to check his phone hit him immediately after stepping out of his office, but the sounds of his hungry belly forced him to head downstairs to the kitchen. He took his time cooking up some salmon croquettes and cheesy grits. He picked around at his food. He needed to check his phone. He traveled upstairs to grab it and watched the apple sign glow as he made his way back down, sitting back at his kitchen counter. His phone came to life, with One New Message: Baby Girl and a missed call from TJ. He didn’t even bother to think about calling TJ back. He slid open the message from Phoenix.

Heat began to form in the pit of his chest as he read her message over and over. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, trying to think of something, anything to say back. But she made herself clear: Do me a favor and don’t call or text me. Leave me alone. Not able to come up with anything to redeem himself, he decided to do as she asked and leave her alone. He closed the message and locked his phone. Erik finished the rest of his food, put on some fresh clothes and headed out the door.

-------

Phoenix and her girls rented some ATV’s for the day and spent the day exploring. They shopped at some small shops and got food at a local cafe before returning back to their villa. They all had been tired from partying the night before, so this night would be spent chilling and relaxing. As the night came to an end, everyone headed to their rooms to get some rest.

Phoenix laid in her bed for what felt like hours, trying to fall asleep. She flipped her pillows countless times to feel the cold side, she tossed and turned, and she even tried to count backwards from a hundred. Nothing worked. She reached for her phone and for the first time since that morning, she took her phone off airplane mode. Her first action was opening her messages and tapping Erik’s name. She just stared at her last message to him. Not knowing what to do, she exited out and tapped her IG app. She scrolled and scrolled, liking a few pictures until she found herself mindlessly tapping through Insta Stories. She stopped when she got to Coby’s story. He was in the studio and playing a snippet of a beat and it sparked an idea in her. “I need to write.” she whispered to herself.

Phoenix got up and pulled out her trusty notebook from her luggage. She wasn’t supposed to bring anything work related with her but she knew at some point, inspiration could hit her. She dug into the bottom of her purse for her airpods and headed downstairs. She made her way outside into the backyard of the villa. The pool lite up blue and she found a comfy spot on one of the cushioned chairs. Popping in her headphones, she turned on a beat and let the music sing to her. She closed her eyes, feeling the warm, midnight breeze and hummed until she found the words.

Ride these hips like some handle bars // Do it on top of the car

No matter baby, I don't care // We can fuck anywhere

She sings as she writes her lyrics in her notebook.

-------

Mica stands in the dim kitchen, with the refrigerator open, looking for something to snack on. Nothing looked appealing but her sleepy mind made her believe that if she stared long enough at the food that maybe something tasty would just appear on the shelves. As she stood there, she heard the faint sounds of a voice. She closed the door of the fridge, trying to listen to where it was coming from. Her eyes followed the sound and she spotted one of her friends sitting outside. As she walked closer to the cracked open, sliding door she could hear very clearly now, Phoenix singing. She listened as Phoenix sung to herself. But what really caught her up were the x rated lyrics. How could someone so innocent be singing like this.

Now see normally, I do not do this shit // But ooh, I'm so ready to do your shit

Throw it back for ya cause you know the deal // When I hit ya back with that Netflix and chill

Mica stepped outside and started walking toward Phoenix. Naturally, as she walked, she didn’t make a noise. Phoenix having her earbuds in and eyes closed, she didn’t notice when Mica sat down in the chair next to her.

Let me tell you how I want it // Tell you just the way to hit // when you tryna push up on it

“Sounds like somebody missing that D.” Mica laughed, adding emphasis on D.

Phoenix jumped so hard, one of her earbuds fell out. “Oh my God!” She grabs her chest, feeling her heart pound. “What the fuck, Mica?”

“My bad. I ain’t mean to scare you.” Phoenix took deep breaths trying to calm her nerves. “Why are you out here though? You ain’t scared a lizard will pop out and attack you?” Mica continued.

“I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to be by the water and I actually never thought about a lizard or any other creatures popping out, but I am now though.” She rolled her eyes, peaking over her shoulder. When she looks back at Mica, she finds Mica grinning at her. “What?” she asked, with a bit of attitude.

Mica shakes her head. “Oh, nothing.”

“Mica… why are you looking at me like this?”

“I peeped your lyrics. Yo’ ass can’t sleep because you’re probably due for a dose of dick.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes. “I’m not due for anything. It’s just a song.”

“Girl, bullshit! All of your music reflects how you feel.” She watched as Phoenix anxiously bites the side of her mouth instead of responding. “It’s okay to admit it Phoenix.”

“There’s nothing to admit.” she snaps. “I’m just writing music.”

“Yeah, about getting your guts ruined by Erik.”

“Erik ain’t ruining shit.”

“Okay. Now you’re just lying.” Mica moves closer to Phoenix, snatching her notebook from her. Phoenix gives a small fight for it but Mica’s small frame is strong and she blocked Phoenix’s attempts to get it back. Mica read through the lyrics. Her eyes growing big as she realizes something. “Oh my goodness. Im tryna take you out the friend zone,” she reads. “You and him haven’t done the do, but you want to. You still want Erik to be your man.” she gives Phoenix a mischievous look.

Phoenix’s face heats up and tries to hide it from Mica. Mica jumps up and squeezes into the same chair as Phoenix. “Can you chill before you wake everybody up?” Phoenix says, covering her face with her t-shirt.

“I knew you were blowing smoke about being done with his ass earlier.” Mica snatches Phoenix’s t-shirt down from her face. “C’mon girl, talk to me. You ain’t let him break you off?”

Phoenix shakes her head no.

“Has he tried? Have you tried?”

“We’ve almost… like twice, but both times he stopped and said he didn’t want to.”

“Why?” Mica asked.

“The first time was after my show and we all went to In-N-Out. He walked me to my door and dropped the bomb on me that he would have to leave like the next day for work and be gone for two weeks. He didn’t want me to think he was having sex with me only to disappear.”

“Oh, like he did Sydney?”

Phoenix cut her eye at Mica. “He didn’t have sex with her.” Mica threw her hands up in surrender, motioning for Phoenix to go on. “And the second time is when he got back from his trip and he said he wanted to do things the right way and court me because he’s never done it for a woman.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? He’s never actually dated a woman?”

“Nope! He’s never had a girlfriend. Just fuck buddies.”

“Hm.” Mica sounded impressed. “I’m going to need him to teach me his ways because I don’t really want these niggas. I just want the dick and that sounds perfect for me.”

“Mica!”

“What?”

“You know damn well you want Jimmy to be your man.”

“Aht! Aht! We are not talking about Jimmy right now. We are talking about you and Erik.” Mica pokes Phoenix’s chest.

“Actually,” Phoenix says matter of factly, “We’re not because there is no more me and Erik.”

“I get why you’re mad at him. I do! But I definitely think y’all can come back from this. From what you just said, I don’t think he was trying to be a disrespectful, wild nigga. If he’s never had a girlfriend then he’s never had those moments where you see the person you like, talk to someone else and your brain is all telling you to be heartbroken and you get that weird feeling in your chest. He overreacted, yes, but that man likes you, Philly! Maybe he didn’t know how to handle the thought of someone else knowing you the way he wants to know you.”

Phoenix bit her lip in thought. Does Mica really have a point right now? Mica was never the type to vouch for any guy. She was proudly Team Fuck These Niggas. So, this was new for Phoenix to hear from Mica. Mica grabs Phoenix’s face, looking her in the eyes. “I’m not saying to text him or nothing like that because it’s Fuck These Niggas for life. He should definitely suffer for talking to you like he lost his mind. But when you’re ready to talk to him, let his ass have it and make sure he knows that if he pulls that shit again, you will block his ass and go on like you never knew him. Once he bows down to you and kisses your feet for forgiveness, you snatch his soul.” Mica smiles which causes Phoenix to smile and Mica kisses her forehead.

“One problem, sis.”

“What?”

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“The dick.” Phoenix whispers.

“Are you serious?” Mica laughs.

“Yes. Stop laughing at me.” she pushes Mica off of her, causing Mica to slip from their shared chair. “It’s been a long time since I did that.”

Mica catches herself and swiftly moves her body into the other chair. “I completely forgot that you’re a born again virgin. I would be scared too.”

“You don’t understand, Mica. I really don’t think I even remember what to do with a dick.”

“You want me to give you some tips?”

Phoenix nervously looks at Mica. “Tips? From you? I don’t know about that.”

“Fine! Lay there like a sponge then.”

“Wait, I don’t wanna be a sponge. I’m sorry. Help me.”

Mica hands Phoenix her notebook and pen back. “Open a fresh page and take notes.” Phoenix does what she is told and waits for Mica to begin. “Okay! Let’s start with oral. How you suck a guys dick is how you set the tone. Wait, you’ve given head before right?”

“Um, once. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Girl,” Mica palms her face. “I’m sure it was terrible.”

------------

Phoenix followed Mica’s advice on letting Erik suffer. For the rest of their trip, she didn’t text or call him. In fact, she kept her phone on airplane mode the majority of the time and never posted anymore pictures or videos on her Instagram. That didn’t mean Erik didn’t see what she was up to. He had no shame in checking in on Ava, Mica and Camren’s pages. He tried to see what was on Tiana’s page but her page was private. He needed to show Phoenix he knew he messed by handling their situation like he did. The fews days of them not being in contact, he had plenty of time to think about his actions. With Phoenix returning soon, he needed to figure out a way to get her back.

He sent a message to Shawn.

Erik: Aye man, this E.

Shawn: What’s up bro.

Erik: I need you to do me a favor. Give Coby my info. Tell that nigga to hit my line.

Shawn: Bet.

---------

Jetlag was creeping up on Phoenix as she sat in the backseat of her Uber. They had landed safely back in Los Angeles and she was headed home. The sun was setting and Phoenix took a beautiful picture of the sky as it glowed pink and orange. This being the first photo she uploaded to her InstaStory in days with the caption, no place like home.

Just as she hit upload, Erik watched as her picture popped up at the top of his screen. Seeing the photo confirmed that she’s home and his plan is set to start any minute now. He sat on his couch, waiting patiently for her to get to her apartment.

Tags: @purple-apricots @abeautifulmindexposed @lostennyc @tip222u @janelledarling @lushloaded @chaneajoyyy @thadelightfulone @raysunshine78 @toniilaney @purpleskiesxhopefuldreams @elaindeereads @lyniya @liyahshaeking **If anyone would like to be added, let me know:)

#black panther #erik stevens #erik killmonger #killmonger fic #the elevator bae #erik x phoenix #erik x black reader #erik x black oc #shaebewriting

170 notes · View notes

thebrochtuarachs · 4 years

Text

Arranged: Chapter 5

Modern AU. Set in 2018. Where Claire and Jamie are arranged to be married.

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

AO3

A/N: In celebration of my 25th birthday, I am finally updating this fic! Hope you like it and so excited to share the coming chapters ahead! _____________________________

Monday rolled out and she hadn’t heard from either Jamie and Frank over the weekend.

Frank did warn her that communications will be hard as being in remote areas during his excavation project in Egypt and she really didn’t expect much from Jamie since they agreed to keep discussions off about their arrangement during weekends. It should’ve soothed her mind but she jumped between feeling calm and restless as the weekend passed by.

As a woman of science, Claire relied on logic in dealing with issues in her life and more than not, logic helps her arrive in a viable and proper decision. However, being in a relationship is more than quantifiable facts and figures. It involves – should involve – a matter of heart and emotion that she will have to take into consideration.

On one end, the choice should was clear – Frank. Although they have only been going out barely a month, at least, to her - them, they were official. He was older with a stable career, more mature – sometimes too much – but she can get on with it. But more importantly, he likes her enough to actually pursue her even at the risk of his job.

But then last week, she went home for dinner only for her family to announce that they were arranging a marriage for her to her childhood friend who she hasn’t seen in the past half year. She was definitely angry and confused at the beginning, however, she couldn’t deny that continuously spending time with Jamie the past three days have been entirely pleasant, even if it was in the most common and domestic situations. It surprised her to feel that what she looked forward to the most was the time of day they’ve scheduled just for themselves at the cafe. She couldn’t lie to herself and not say that Jamie was somehow in her emotional mix now regardless of how that came to be.

It was unchartered territory to her and she was definitely unsure what the outcome will be and that heightened her anxiety a different level.

Claire shook her head and refocused her mind on her classes instead as she drove on her way to school. The day went by fairly normal. Not hearing from either men didn’t trigger anything and she was thankful for that, saving her energy now that she was on the way to the café to meet up with Jamie.

As she walked to the parking lot, she heard voices from behind one of the larger vehicles that kept the group of men hidden from plain view. Despite that, she heard one voice that was entirely too familiar. One would think that living in Scotland for most her life that everyone’s accent would be the same but Jamie’s voice registers uniquely to her.

She paused, waiting to hear what was going on. She peeked at the situation but didn’t intervene.

“Let him go, Grant.” Jamie said warningly.

“What will ye do then, Fraser?”

“Ye coward, picking up on someone ye know canna fight ye fairly.” Jamie dwelled for a moment before declaring. “I’ll fight ye.”

“Jamie, no!” a person unfamiliar to Claire pleaded back. “Let them do as they wish to me.”

“No, no, no.” Malcolm Grant said. “Tis’ an offer I canna pass. Finally having a chance to give the famous Jamie Fraser a piece of this.” Malcolm held up his fist but Claire saw Jamie unbothered.

Malcolm shoved Jamie’s friend to the side and when Claire saw his difficulty getting up, it became clear to her what Jamie meant by fighting fairly. Ian wore a prosthetic on his right leg.

Her thoughts abruptly stopped once she heard the sound of a punch landing on the face. Malcolm and Jamie didn’t waste time getting at it with Jamie getting the upper hand because of his size and strength. He landed two punches that sent Malcolm at a distance but then two of his groupies suddenly appeared from nowhere and it was now a 3-on-1 battle.

“This is our fight, Grant. Ask yer men to leave”

Malcolm ticked his tongue. “Awww, since when was I fair on anything, Fraser?” he remarked, smirking at the upper hand he now has. “Get him” he ordered and his guys held Jamie by the arms, rendering him at a great disadvantage. Jamie’s friend tried to join the fight but his prosthetic was easily deformed by Malcolm that left him to watch Jamie deal with it all by himself.

Jamie tried to fight off the two men but it was to no avail. Malcolm came close to him, patting his cheek. “Such shame to destroy this pretty face”

Then everything happened quickly thereafter. With Jamie helpless, Grant threw one punch to his face, then to his stomach, and the last straight to his nose that caused him to bleed profusely.

Everything happened so fast that it took Claire a second to react and interrupted them.

“What the hell is this?! You better leave or I am calling the police?” she made herself known with the threat.

“And who might you be, pretty lass?” Malcolm asked, definitely interested in the lady that has arrived.

“Claire – leave…“ was all Jamie managed to say as he heaved, recovering from the punch.

“So the pretty lass has a name. Claire…beautiful” he started walking towards her and Jamie tried to get away again but Malcolm’s guys were fast and held him off.

“Stop right there.” Claire commanded as she pulled at her phone and started dialing.

“Okay, okay.” Malcolm raised his hand and backed off. “Come on ye two.”

“Really boss?!” One of them inquired.

“Ye, ye.”

The two men shoved Jamie towards where his friend was and the three started walking away. Malcolm turned around, looking at Claire with a smug face. “This isna the last ye’ll see of me…Claire”

Claire all but ran to Jamie’s side, checking up on his condition. “You’ve broken your nose”, she assessed while trying to see any other injuries.

“I’m fine.” Jamie said, standing up and then turning to his friend to help him up too.

“No, you’re not. You’re bleeding, you bloody Scot! Come on, we need to get you to the clinic to fix that nose…”

“Claire Beauchamp, this is Ian Murray. Ian Murray, Claire Beauchamp.” Jamie interrupted her with his introductions.

“Hello, Ian.” She turned to him, checking him up to. “How’s the leg?”

Ian’s brows rose in surprise then his eyes drooped in embarrassment. “I am sorry.”

“Whatever are you sorry for?” Claire said, hoping that her message came to Ian in kind and not in spite.

“How did ye know?” Ian asked.

“Just by observation, nothing to worry about.”

“I think Grant hit the mechanism when he shoved me. We really need to go to the clinic.” Ian explained and Jamie groaned at the inevitable.

The three of them walked awkwardly towards the clinic while Claire repeatedly reprimanded Jamie under her breath. “Being punched three times, broke a nose and says he’s bloody fine...”

Jamie laughed that sent more blood to ooze from his not but he didn’t care.

“Don’t laugh! Who were those guys anyway?” she asked.

“Ach, no one, Sassenach.”

“They’re the Grants.” Ian answered instead. “They love to bully me around uni but Jamie wouldn’t allow them to no matter how many times I asked him to stay away from it.”

“Why to they pick on you?”

“Er, the obvious I guess.” Ian explained.

“Just for that?”

“Eh,” Ian just shrugged as they finally arrive at the clinic.

The nurses didn’t waste time fixing Jamie up as soon as they saw the bloody mess on his face. When asked how he broke his nose, Jamie explained that he fell off the stairs. The nurses raised an eyebrow in skepticism then looked at Ian and Claire for confirmation. They just nodded because if they knew the real reason, it might cause something else they don’t want to deal with.

It took less than half an hour for the nurses to fix Jamie’s nose and cuts and for Ian’s leg to be working again and they were out with strict orders of rest and fluids.

“I’ll see you home, Jamie.” Ian offered but Jamie refused.

“No, tis’ alright, Ian. Ye ken we live on opposite sides of the city plus I’m fine, really and home is just a bus ride away”

“I wouldn’t mind”

“No, and tis that. Go home, Ian. I’ll see ye tomorrow.” Jamie patted Ian in the shoulder in assurance.

“If ye say so. Head home, too, and rest. You’re more banged up than I am.” Ian returned the gesture and turned to Claire. “Tis nice to meet ye, Claire. I just hoped it was in better circumstances.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’ll see you around.”

Ian left the opposite direction leaving Claire and Jamie to deal with themselves.

“I dinna think I can go to our wee meeting today, Sassenach. My head’s a bit woozy right now” Jamie turned to Claire sheepishly, trying to scratch a small itch on his nose but hissed when he touched a sensitive area.

“I’ll take you home, Jamie” she offered.

“No, ye dinna have to do that, Claire.”

“Please. I brought my car today so it’s no bother really.” she countered, not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“Alright, I dinna want to argue wi’ anyone anymore today.”

The drive to Jamie’s was silent, mostly because Jamie dozed off during the ride. When they arrive at the Frasers, Ellen asked the same questions as the nurse at school and also turned to Claire for confirmation to story they all know not to be true.

“Claire, if you could settle my son at the living room, I’ll get some ice from the kitchen.”

“Mam, ye dinna have to bother…”

Ellen Fraser only have to give Jamie a look for him to follow her orders and Claire giggled.

“Don’t laugh, my mam is going to have my hide no matter how grown up I am” Jamie chastised humorly.

“How are you going to explain this one away?”

“I dinna ken, maybe stay silent until she just gives up?”

“Like that’s going to work on Aunt Ellen”

Jamie gave a scottish grunt just as his mother entered the room, handing Jamie a pack of frozen peas.

“Must be some slippery stairs for you to fall face first and break your nose, my son.”

“Aye, tis”

“Your father and I will love for you to regale that tale over dinner. Claire, my dear, will you be joining us for dinner as well?”

“Oh? I - uhm..”

Jamie looked at her with pleading eyes to stay and help him get through his family’s questioning.

“Let me just call my mom” Claire took out her phone, dialed home and after a few minutes. “I’m free for dinner”

“Fantastic! Now, I’ll leave you two kids to fend for yourselves. Dinner will be ready in a few hours”

Ellen Fraser left for the kitchen and Jamie stretched on the sofa, tending to his swollen face. The silence stretched and Claire wasn’t really sure how to go about it. She never really had a reason to stay long at the Fraser’s house unless it was one of their family dinners and it was definitely a long time since she stayed over their house for no reason at all. It wasn’t uncomfortable, she just didn’t know what else to do.

“Claire” Jamie turned to her, breaking her thoughts and sensing her slight uneasiness. “Do ye still know how to ride?”

“Of course, I do”

“Would ye like to look around the estate?”

“Sure”

It was a lovely afternoon for a ride and Jamie was pleased that the horse he’s chosen was immediately taken to Claire. She’s a natural rider, he observed and he was glad that she looked to be enjoying herself.

They reached the farther ends of the property, going to areas they’d frequent before as kids - the river they’d sneak off to in the summer, the treehouse fort they’d only let their parents enter with a password, the pond they’d skate around during the winter. They talked about memories of their childhood until they found themselves at the top of a hill, watching the sun fall from the horizon.

Claire dismounted first and walked towards the huge oak tree near the edge. Jamie dismounted after her but only took the reigns of her horse and let her wander towards the edge.

“It’s beautiful. Why don’t I remember this place? Haven’t I been here before?” Claire asked in succession and Jamie just stayed silent. He had planned on taking here there a long time ago to tell her of his intentions to court her but timing always never felt right until it was too late and he found out about Frank Randall.

“We hadn’t rode this far before.” he excused.

“Well, I’ll definitely come back and visit this place. Just look at this view! The endless rolling hills!” Claire excitedly proclaimed as she took out her phone and took a photo. Once the task was done, she turned around to head back to Jamie and her horse. And in that moment as she walked, the sun perfectly aligned behind her, creating a silhouette that took Jamie’s breath away.

Ah, dhia. She is beautiful.

Surprising even himself, he had enough awareness to hand her back her horse and ride away without getting too caught up in the situation.

A few minutes later the house was in view and they were depositing the horses back in the stables.

“Thank you for the ride. I haven’t had the chance in a long while, I almost forgot how much I loved it. I know I should be studying or doing our research but this is way more fun and relaxing. A nice break, is it not?”

“Glad you enjoyed it, Sassenach. Tis’ my pleasure.”

From the back door of the kitchen, Ellen called out that dinner was ready.

Jamie and Claire settled their horses and before Jamie could muster what was happening, Claire shoved passed him and started running like a child towards the house.

“Tag! Last one to the house is the loser, Fraser!” Claire called out and they were off to the races, she with the headstart but Jamie not far behind her. Their laughs echoed throughout the deserted field and it was just like they were 7 and 9 again. Jamie fought the urge not to tackle or hug her from behind resulting in his loss.

“Wash yer hands before ye proceed to the table” Ellen ordered upon the duo’s entry. Claire continued her victory cheer as she headed for the sink to clean up. Ellen Fraser greeted her son by the door, gave him a smirk and then tousled his hair to disarray to which Jamie only happily rolled his eyes.

Thankfully, Jamie’s parents didn’t push him enough to explain the bruises he has but let it slide for the time being, happy that he’s home and safe.

Dinner had been a lovely affair for the foursome. Ellen and Brian regaled childhood memories of Jamie and Claire’s, laughing and embarrassing them both to no end.

“Let me just get us another bottle” Ellen stood and Jamie followed his mam to help her.

In the recess of the kitchen, Ellen turned to her son who was reaching for another bottle of wine.

“Tis’ nice having dinner with Claire.” Ellen remarked, leaning on the counter.

“Ye have dinner with her once a month, mam, for the past 20 years. Ye’ve known her all yer life.” he retorted.

“True, but tonight, seeing ye and her, getting to know the woman she is and becoming” Ellen sighed. “I love that girl like she was my own daughter, ye ken. But now, I really wish she was my daughter, if ye get my meaning”

Jamie turned around to give his mother an exasperated look but was stopped in his tracks when his mother produced a small, black velvet box from her pocket.

“Mam..”

“It would give me great pleasure if ye gave this to her.” holding up Jamie’s hand and pressing the box to his keeping.

“Our situations complicated enough..” Jamie said as he tried to hand it back to his mother.

“I’m no asking ye to give it to her tonight. Just...” she paused, raised one hand to his cheek to get his attention. ”hold on to it, aye?”

Unbeknown to the two, Claire had been watching the entire scene unfold through a small opening in the kitchen door. Brian had asked her to follow them to request for the cake as well when she heard their conversation.

She meant to show herself sooner but when Ellen produced the ring box, she was frozen on the spot. She watched Jamie try to refuse it but to no avail. Aunt Ellen didn’t mean to pressure Jamie either, it seems, much to her relief. However, she couldn’t deny the small curiosity in what is beneath it.

Claire shook her head and pushed the thoughts away. As she saw Jamie place the box in his pocket, Claire entered the kitchen asking for dessert.

107 notes · View notes

isitgintimeyet · 5 years

Text

Road To The Aisles

AO3

So, after last week’s romantic interlude, parenthood hits with a bang!

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge @happytoobserve @wickedgoodbooksfor their help and support ... and to you all for reading.

Chapter 7: A Challenging Confrontation

Poor Elizabeth. My heart aches for her, for I am sure all that carping bitterness makes her wretched. I dare say it is only physical: liver perhaps, or acidity. – E. F. Benson Mapp and Lucia

Claire hurriedly gathered up her curls, still damp from the shower, and tied them in a messy bun as she made her way downstairs.

She found Jamie slumped at the kitchen table, large mug of coffee in one hand. The other hand was rhythmically bouncing William’s baby seat, positioned in the centre of the table. He stopped momentarily to run his fingers through his hair. William whimpered, frustrated at the cessation of the bouncing. He kicked his legs and waved his arms wildly, screwing up his face in preparation for a loud display of his general dissatisfaction.

Jamie sighed and resumed the bouncing, temporarily placating the baby.

Claire kissed them both. “Morning, loves.”

Jamie growled. “Is it? I canna say it’s been the best night round here. William’s been awfa fractious. He wouldna settle in his cot. In the end I gave up and brought him down here. I dinna ken how people manage with this every night, or with more than one bairn. What time is it?”

Claire glanced at the kitchen clock, which was clearly visible. “Seven thirty.”

Jamie yawned. “I gave him some Calpol about an hour ago. Do ye think he’s too hot? Or is he too cold? Doctor him, Sassenach.”

Claire pressed her lips to William’s forehead. “His temperature’s fine, Jamie. He’s got a bit of a cold. The Calpol will have regulated his temperature. And he’s getting upset because when he tries to self soothe with his thumb, he can’t breathe. Hang on.”

She briefly left the kitchen before returning with a small box which she handed to Jamie. “It’s a syringe bulb. Squeeze it, put it carefully up William’s nostril, then release. The mucus will be sucked into the bulb. Empty it into a tissue, rinse and repeat.”

“That sounds gross Sassenach. Can ye no’ do it? Ye’re a-“

“Do not say woman, James Fraser.”

“Actually, I was going tae say doctor,” Jamie replied curtly.

“Jamie, you’ll be fine. You know, contrary to popular belief, some doctors don’t actually like dealing with stuff like this. Man up. This is only the first of many gross things you will have to do as a parent. Get used to it. Plenty of fluids, try and go for a walk, give him some fresh air and you nap when he does.”

“If he does,” Jamie complained in an undertone.

Claire ignored his last comment and headed for the door. “And I will see you later. I’ve got two complex primary hip replacements waiting for me at the hospital.”

Jamie yawned again.

“Ye dinna have tae sound so happy about it,” he called as she disappeared from view.

**************

Claire gingerly poked her head around the living room door.

“How is everybody?”

Jamie raised his head slightly from his prone position on the sofa. William lay dozing on his chest, his breathing punctuated by a series of sniffs and snores.

“I’m no’ going tae lie. It’s no’ been the best day, Sassenach. We’ve watched ‘Homes Under the Hammer,’ ‘Bargain Hunt’ and two Columbo films. I tried tae go fer a walk, but he wouldna settle in his pram and I couldna get that baby harness thingie on me. Last feed he sicked it back up on me, but he wouldna let me put him down to change ma shirt. I’m bursting fer a piss but he’s like a limpet on me. And…”

Jamie winced and moved his hand over William’s, loosening the baby’s grasp. “... he’s just started pulling at ma chest hair. And he’s got an awfa fierce grip.”

Claire looked down at Jamie. He did look worn out, she admitted to herself, but no worse than plenty of new parents she had seen. His hair was standing on end, the lack of sleep was clear from the purple smudges under his eyes, and there was an undeniable odour of baby sick around him. Parenthood had taken its toll today.

“Why don’t you go and freshen up? I’ll look after William.”

“Are ye sure? Ye’ll have had a hard day too, cutting intae people.”

“I’m positive.” Claire sniffed. “And have a shower too.”

Jamie slowly sat up. William, now being cruelly deprived of his comfortable pillow, opened his eyes, screwed up his face and, after a couple of preliminary moans, began to cry very loudly.

“Here, let me have him.”

Jamie made no argument as Claire took the baby from him and rocked gently from side to side. The crying immediately stopped. From over her shoulder, William watched his father get up and move to the door. A half hearted cry caused Jamie to hesitate.

“Go on,” Claire urged. “He’s fine. He’s just playing you. He knows who the soft touch is around here. Don’t you, William? You think your daddy is here just for your amusement.”

William snorted as if in agreement before contentedly biting at Claire’s shoulder.

“By the way, Geneva said she would pick William up in a bit. Save me having tae drive over there.”

“Well, well,” Claire whispered in William’s ear as Jamie left the room. “Looks like Mummy is actually trying to be helpful.”

*********

Claire held William -- apparently intent on trying to fit the whole of his elephant rattle into his mouth -- in one arm, while she checked her messages on her phone with her free hand. She noticed several missed calls from Geillis.

“What’s up with Auntie G, then, hey?” She muttered against William’s head.

As she began to text her friend, the doorbell rang.

“Shi- shoot! Mummy’s a bit early and Da’s not here.”

Claire lifted William and carried him to the door.

“Will ye let me the fuck in?” Geillis’s muffled voice came through as Claire, surprised to hear her friend’s voice, struggled to balance William while unlocking the door.

“Well, William, that’s a very naughty word from your Auntie G.” Claire joked as she kissed Geillis’s proffered cheek.

“Dinna be joking and putting on that special baby voice.” Geillis was clearly in no mood for levity. “I need help, Claire. I need tae talk tae ye. Can Jamie no’ mind his bairn?”

“Ouch, G. Too much.” Claire chided gently.

“Sorry.” Geillis moved into the living room. “I’m in a bit of a state, tae be honest.”

Claire secured William in his baby seat, ignoring his whimper of protest. “Won’t work with me matey, I’m not your Da. Take it out on your elephant.”

She shook the rattle encouragingly and turned to Geillis. “What is it? Didn’t you have lunch today with Dougal? Is there something the matter with him?”

Geillis gave a fake laugh. “Aye, ye could say that. He wants us tae have a baby together. I mean, a baby… Christ… can ye imagine me wi’ a bairn?”

Geillis looked down at William and closed her eyes. “Fer God’s sake, he’s already got two daughters wi’ his ex. How many more bairns does he need? And they’re seventeen and fifteen now… and he wants tae do that all again?”

Claire took Geillis’s hands in hers. “G, this is not an easy situation. You need to think carefully about this. Any choice you make has got to be right for you… it’s a huge decision, having a baby.” Claire paused, thinking about the irony of her last statement. “Or at least it should be.”

“But what if it’s a deal breaker? What if Dougal doesn’t want tae carry on if I dinna have a bairn? Should I have a bairn fer him?”

“A baby won’t heal a relationship, G. You know that. You’ve got to both want it. You can’t be having a baby just because you’re afraid of losing him. And if you have a baby, will you be resentful of Dougal putting you in that position?”

Geillis sat quietly for a moment, nervously pulling at her cuticles. The silence was broken by William, fed up with being ignored, who emitted a loud screech. Now confident he had Claire’s attention, he resumed sucking his rattle.

The sound pulled Geillis out of her reverie. “Oh, fer fuck’s sake. I must sound like Geneva… thinking about having a bairn tae keep a man. What is happening tae me?”

“G, listen to me. There is no way you are like Geneva. For a start you are in a serious relationship with Dougal, not a one night thing. And it’s Dougal who wants a baby. Geneva was the one who wanted the baby, not Jamie. And Geneva tricked and lied to try to get what she wanted. So, unless Dougal starts sticking pins into condoms, you’re safe."

Geillis blanched then sniffed and pulled a tissue out from her cleavage. Blowing her nose, she began to talk. “Aye, I guess ye’re right --“

The doorbell interrupted Geillis.

“Oh no,” Claire exclaimed. “That’ll be Geneva now… and Jamie’s still in the shower.”

“So, is this some kind of Beetlejuice situation? Ye say her name three times and she appears?”

Lifting William out of his chair, Claire made her way into the hall.

“Jamie,” she shouted up the stairs. “Geneva’s here.”

A muffled voice responded. “I’ll be right down. Give me two minutes.”

Geneva was her usual polished self, Claire noted as she stood on the doorstep, having obviously benefitted from a good night’s babyless sleep.

With a formal “good afternoon” Geneva stepped into the hall, took William from Claire and cuddled him tightly.

“Oh, Mummy missed you so much,” she whispered.

“Come into the living room. Jamie’s just having a quick shower,” Claire explained. “It’s been a tough day for him… with William feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Glad he’s experiencing the reality of fatherhood,” Geneva responded as Claire led the way in.

“This is my friend, Geillis, and this is-“ Claire made the introductions.

Geneva interrupted. “Hello, I’m Geneva… I’m the mother of Jamie’s son.”

“Aye, I ken who ye are… and I’m the best friend of Jamie's fiancée. We were just having a wee chat about the wedding and the plans. I dinna ken, there’s something tae be said for summer weddings, but then an autumn one would be grand or a Christmas wedding would be awfa bonny with snow on the ground. What do ye think? So many decisions. Still whichever Claire and Jamie choose, it’s bound tae be special, I’m sure. And as maid of honour I’m here tae make it all run smoothly. Have ye seen the ring? Jamie must have taken a while choosing that…”

Geillis seemed to be unstoppable in her monologue about planning the wedding and the engagement, not allowing Geneva any way into the conversation. Claire could see Geneva’s face grow darker as Geillis’s onslaught continued.

“Now, the dress… weel…”

At that moment, Jamie stepped into the room. Geneva immediately interrupted Geillis.

“Jamie, have you got all William’s stuff? Please take it to the car. And tell me all about his illness… Geillis, sorry I must dash.”

“Och, that’s ok. It was grand tae meet ye, Genevieve.”

Claire blew William a kiss as Geneva followed Jamie outside.

“That was fun!” Geillis remarked to Claire. “I was verra nice tae her, do ye no’ think?”

“Classic passive aggressive, G.”

“Weel, she deserved it. She pissed me off the way she introduced herself.” Geillis glanced at her watch. “Actually I must go now too.”

“Ok, well take care,” Claire wrapped her arms around her friend and gave her a big hug. “Please think about this carefully, and talk to Dougal. You need to tell him what you’re feeling.”

“Aye, ye’re right. Love ye, Claire.”

“Love you too,” Claire burst out laughing. “Oh goodness, I just realised. You called her Genevieve. She’ll hate that.”

Geillis gave a big swooping bow. “My work here is done. Bye.”

*****************

Jamie lay in bed and watched Claire, at the dressing table, rubbing moisturiser into her face.

“Sassenach, I’m so tired. How do parents do this day after day? At least I ken I’ve a few days tae recover now.”

“You do it because you have to… and because they may be smelly, annoying, demanding little creatures but you love them… and they’re worth it.”

“Aye,” Jamie smiled. “He’s worth it right enough. Now, Sassenach, am I worth it? Come and give yer man a cuddle.”

Claire slipped under the covers and snuggled close to Jamie, her head rested on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, fingers automatically stroking the reddish gold curls there.

“Can I ask ye something, Sassenach?”

Claire nodded.

“I ken ye want bairns, but we’ve never really said when or how many. So?”

Claire pulled away to look at his face. “I don’t know really… two I guess. That’s usual nowadays, isn’t it?”

“Aye, two would be grand...or three mebbe.”

“Let’s see.”

“But when do ye want tae try, Sassenach?”

“Not for a while. William’s so small. Do you really want two babies in nappies?”

“Nah, ye’re right. No’ just yet, but promise me Sassenach, can we keep up with the practice in the meantime?”

Claire kissed him firmly on the lips.

“Aye,” she mimicked. “I promise.”

#outlander fan fiction #outlander fanfic #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #Road To The Aisles #chapter 7 #modern au

132 notes · View notes

bee-kathony · 5 years

Photo

On Your Knees - Jamie and Claire Modern AU

a/n: Jamie and Claire make use of the empty gym. And this one shot is inspired by this gif above and this thirsty tweet of mine xx very NSFW

Glasgow, Scotland

July 19th, 2019

I’d been working all day, having picked up an extra shift at the hospital. My friend Mary had a family emergency and even though I’d been on call for more than sixteen hours, I told her I would cover for her.

This meant that Jamie spent his Friday evening home alone. There was an eight car pile up on the road that prevented me from even checking in with him all night. Patients had come pouring in with wounds ranging from scraps to broken bones.

Thankfully, everyone had survived, but I was feeling weary and was looking forward to the next two days off. When I walked into our house, the lights were off which was odd, considering Jamie should be home.

“Jamie?” I called out, switching on the light closest to me.

He didn’t answer, and so I pulled out my phone and that’s when I saw the two messages and one missed call.

Jamie Fraser: I made dinner for ye, it’s in the fridge!

Jamie Fraser: I dinna ken when ye’ll be home so I’m headed to the gym. Swing by if yer up for a late night sweat session ;)

That text was sent just twenty minutes ago, which meant he was probably still there. Jamie had opened his own gym two years ago when we moved to Glasgow. It was his passion, and his business had grown so quickly in a short amount of time. It also meant that he had his own personal gym after hours.

As I set my bag down on the couch and walked over to the kitchen, I couldn’t help the warmth that crept up my cheeks. I had accompanied Jamie to the gym when he had forgotten something or felt like working out late at night when it was closed like he was now. One particular memory included Jamie on his knees and me sitting on top of some machine he called a ‘power tower’.

There was a plate of spaghetti wrapped up in the fridge whenever I opened it. Grabbing it, I sighed and then placed it in the microwave. I always hated missing dinner with him — it was no fun to eat leftovers all by yourself.

When the microwave beeped, I took the plate out and stuck my fork in, not bothering to sit down at the table, but stood over the counter. It was only just now 9:30 p.m. on a Friday night, and I didn’t expect Jamie to come home for at least another hour. He was training for another marathon, my wee energizer bunny.

I finished the spaghetti in record time, having not eaten anything since before noon. I didn’t want to just sit at home alone waiting for him to come back, so I went into our bedroom to change. My workout clothes were more for looks than for actual working out. Besides, Jamie always told me that he liked my arse plump the way it was.

My black running tights were snug on my body, hugging my curves in all the right places. I didn’t bother with a sports bra, and just threw on one of Jamie’s old t-shirts. I didn’t send him a text telling him I was headed over, hell, he was probably expecting me to show up any minute.

The gym was only a twelve minute car ride away, and when I stepped outside after locking up, the air felt cool on my skin. That was one nice thing about living in Scotland — it still got chilly when the sun went down in the summer.

Twelve minutes later, I pulled up in the parking lot and shut the car off. Thankfully, his car was still here. It would have been really awkward if I had shown up and he had already headed home.

To get in the back way without a key, you needed a pin number and it just so happened to be my birthday. The numbers lit up as I punched them and it made a beeping sound, signaling that it was unlocked.

Loud music was blaring over the sound system, and as I walked down the hall and past his office, I saw him in the middle of the gym floor doing a plank. Leaning against the wall, I shamelessly admired the long hard lines of his body.

When I met Jamie at Oxford University five years ago during our last year of school, I had been shocked to find myself so taken with him. He wasn’t my usual type — for one, he was extremely tall, red haired and very Scottish. My ex-boyfriend, Frank had been a history major and I had only chosen Oxford because he was already there, two years ahead of me. One day, I went to find him at the library and caught him having sex with his English professor, Mrs. Williams.

That ended quickly, and for the next three years I vowed to a life of singleness. That’s why I was so shocked to find myself attracted to Jamie. My friend, Geillis had invited me out for drinks at the pub near campus, and that’s when I saw him. He was sitting in between Geillis and another man I had seen a few times on campus. That night we had talked for hours, and he walked me home to my apartment where we continued to stay up late talking until the sun rose.

Ever since then, we’d been inseparable. I always wondered how I hadn’t seen him around campus until our last year, but my heart would have been closed off if I’d met him any sooner. It was ten months later, the night after we graduated that Jamie proposed. Then we moved to his small town of Broch Mordha in the Highlands, and gotten married and lived there for two years until we both outgrew it.

I had turned down a job at a hospital in Oxford whenever Jamie proposed. He had to go home to Lallybroch and help his father run their farm. So, I followed him, and I didn’t mind putting my dream on hold, but after many late nights of wondering if this was all our future held, we decided enough was enough and moved to Glasgow.

The gym was his pride and joy, as was working at the hospital mine. We’d both found our passions here, and my current passion was watching him sweat on the gym floor.

As Jamie relaxed and laid down on the floor, his head turned to the side and he saw me. A huge smile lit up his face, and he rolled over, jumping up to come over to me. He grabbed the remote and turned down the music, setting it on the speaker and then kissed me hello.

“I wasna expectin’ to see ye until I got home,” he said through a labored breath. He was wearing his black gym shorts, and had already taken his shirt off.

“Is that so?” I smirked. “Your text about a late night sweat session piqued my interest.”

One of his muscly arms wrapped around my waist and he pressed his body against mine. Normally, I would have pushed him away, not wanting to get sweaty, but there was something about seeing his chest heaving and glistening.

“Did ye see the dinner?” He asked, and I rested my fingers on the waistband of his shorts.

“Yes,” I leaned up to kiss him. “I did, thank you. It was delicious!”

His hand ran up my back and stopped, his fingers searching for something. “Yer no’ wearin’ a bra, Sassenach.”

“Whoops,” I sarcastically said, pressing myself against him so he could feel that I was in fact not wearing one. “Guess I can’t properly work out.”

“Nah,” he looked down at me, his hand now under the back of my shirt and sliding up my bare skin. “But ye can do other activities, no?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“I ken a bench press over there that’s callin’ yer name,” his fingers moved to grip my side, squeezing firmly.

“You’re the coach,” I smiled playfully and started to walk over towards the equipment. I was glad he wasn’t feeling adventurous and said the elliptical machine, because we had tried that once and I had slipped and banged my head back on one of the arms.

I laid back, scooting my bottom to the end, and Jamie came to stand between my legs. I thought he was going to take me like this, but was pleasantly surprised when he got down onto both knees.

“I dinna like it when ye work for so long,” he said conversationally as he spread my legs, his hands running up my thighs to grip the waistband of my tights. “Ye shouldna have picked up that extra shift.”

“But Mary had a family emergency,” I replied, lifting up my hips so he could pull the material off. When I laid back down, the pad of the bench press was cool on my bottom. “She would have done the same for me.”

“Still,” Jamie smirked, tugging my tights down to my ankles but not pulling them off, making it impossible for me to open my legs any wider than they already were. “I missed my wife.”

I was about to reply with some witty remark, but then his mouth was on me. His head was bent between thighs, fit perfectly as if the space was made just for him. I felt his tongue swipe up and down along my crease, and my hips bucked up involuntarily. Jamie chuckled and it vibrated against my skin. He was avoiding my clit, his tongue lapping at my folds and I squirmed against him.

One of his hands slid across my stomach, pushing up the t-shirt until my stomach and one breast was exposed. The cool air hit my nipple and I shivered, feeling it harden under his firm touch. His tongue was quick and with every flick, I wanted to cry out.

“God, Jamie!”

His lips vibrated against my pussy, and finally, he took my clit into his mouth, sucking gently. My back arched off the pad below me, and I earned an encouraging thigh squeeze from Jamie. I opened my eyes and looked down at him, watching as his head bobbed and moved. It was mesmerizing, like watching a cat lap up milk.

His other hand opened me up, and his tongue slid in briefly. My hand flew down to rest in his mess of curls and as he started to suck on my now swollen clit again, I came hard and fast. My hips jerked almost violently causing him to move his head and just watch me fall apart.

“Christ,” Jamie muttered under his breath and then he stood up, simply looking down at me. “This has to be one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.”

“Hush,” I laughed, wiping the back off my hand across my forehead. I may not have come here to workout, but Jamie was making sure my heart rate still went up.

Slowly, my head cleared up, and I managed to sit up, my tights and panties still around my ankles. Jamie was breathing hard as well, having almost been suffocated between my thighs.

“Should we go home now?” I teased.

“Not a chance, mo nighean donn,” he smirked.

“Then move back” I commanded and watched the smirk slide off his face. His gaze was direct and focused on me as backed up. Once he was a few steps away from me, I stood up and stepped out of my tights, next grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it off.

I walked in front of him, my body almost touching his. Jamie’s mouth was partially open, his eyes grazing over my body.

“I wonder what your customers would think if they knew what happened here after dark?” I said and got down on my knees one at a time.

He automatically moved one hand into my hair, pushing his hips forward whenever I started to pull down his shorts. His cock was already hard, and I could see the head throbbing — a dark purplish color.

“Weel, I dinna think they’d be too pleased to find out,” he chuckled. “But they’d be happy to know I sanitize every surface afterwards.”

“Of course,” I smiled and moved my hand over him, watching as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. Jamie loved to watch me go down on him and I had his full attention. His length was hot and heavy in my hand and it twitched whenever I leaned in closer.

“Fuck,” he breathed and his fingers pulled on my hair.

I placed my tongue on his head, swirling it slowly, tasting him. He was still sweaty, and when I licked my lips they were salty. My hand moved up and down the back of his thigh, pressing lightly to push him closer to me. Jamie was starting to breath heavily, and I mentally patted myself on the back for being able to bring up his heart rate too.

Finally, I looked up at him and searched for his gaze. When his eyes met mine, I took him in my mouth as deep as I could. Groaning above me, he tried to steady his hips to not hurt me, but I knew it was difficult.

My lips parted and his cock slipped out of my mouth. I paused, catching my breath. “I want you to come in my mouth,” I said, flicking my tongue out on the head.

“I’ll do anythin’ ye ask, Sassenach,” he groaned and his head fell back a little as I began to slide my hand up and down his length. I knew he was close. My hand other hand took a firm hold of his arse, feeling him clench his cheeks. Sometimes I forgot how much power he had in his body, how he could lift my body into the with ease. I took him in my mouth once again, my tongue gliding over the ridge.

“A Dhia,” he cried out. “Christ, Claire—“

I sucked harder, my fingers grazing his balls, and he shouted my name as he came down my throat. My knees were beginning to hurt, and as much as I was enjoying myself, I was also glad when he sank to his knees and pulled me to the ground next to him.

“I didna expect ye to do that,” Jamie sighed, his hand pulling my leg over his. “Ye didna have to.”

“I wanted to,” I nipped at his finger as it brushed over my bottom lip. “I missed you too.”

Jamie leaned in to kiss me, his lips lingering. “I need my cock in ye, Sassenach. But just now I need a wee rest.”

My hands slid over his back, which was now lightly coated in sweat. Jamie pressed his forehead against mine, and we lay there, each catching our breath.

“We may be sleeping here tonight,” I said, lightly touching his shut eyelids.

“Nah,” he smiled softly. “I dinna think Murtagh would be too pleased to find us naked here on the floor come morning.”

“He’d be in for quite a shock,” I laughed, imagining his godfather finding us as we were.

Jamie moved suddenly, rolling over on top of me. He was very big, and very warm, and he smelled of desire, strong, and sharp. A shadow moved across his face and shoulders, dappling the floor and the white skin of my thighs, open wide.

“I like ye fine, Sassenach,” he murmured in my ear. “I love you. I wor—“

“What was that about a rest?”

His hands were worming themselves under me, cupping my buttocks, squeezing, his breath soft and hot on my neck.

“I have to have my—“

“But—“

“Now, Sassenach.” He rose up abruptly, kneeling on the floor before me. There was a faint smile on his face, but his eyes were dark blue and intent. He cupped his heavy balls in one hand, the thumb moving up and down his exigent member in a slow and thoughtful manner.

“On your knees, a nighean,” he said softly. “Now.”

By the tone of his voice, I knew not to tease him, so I complied rolled over onto my stomach, moving to rest on my knees, arse high in the air. Turning my head to look over my shoulder, I watched him stroke his length, his mouth parted as he looked at me.

“Ye’ve the sweetest arse, Claire,” he said, his voice dripping with lust.

I wiggled back against him, feeling the tip of his cock touch my entrance and I moaned, my head falling forward into my hands. Jamie grabbed my hip with one large, sure hand and then finally fed himself into me.

“Uhh!”

“Fuck,” he said, pushing deeper into me. One hand snaked between our bodies, his thumb pressing over my clit. I began to move my hips, pressing back at every thrust.

There were times that Jamie was a tender, and sweet lover — holding back the strength he wanted to use to be gentle with me. And then there were times that he pummeled into me, knocking the breath out of my chest. Both hands were on my waist, and I heard the slap of his balls on my arse.

“Jamie, please!” I begged, not knowing what I was even begging for — faster, harder, more, anything.

I leaned forward, hanging my head down and groaned as my nipples grazed the floor. I wanted to turn my head and look back at him, to see how he was enjoying this, but my head was fuzzy and my legs were turning to jello.

“Oh God! Claire,” he cried out and then stilled in the next instant, his body folding over mine. His cock pressed deeply inside of me, hitting my g-spot and I trembled, my legs nearly giving out from the weight of him.

After a moment, he pulled out and the warmth left me, leaving me aching for him to return. I fell to the ground beside him on my side, my chest heaving with exertion.

“How many calories do you think we burned?”

“Enough so that we can eat that tub of ice cream that’s in the freezer at home,” he chuckled.

He stood up first, then reached down for my hand to pull me up to my feet. I felt odd, standing there naked in the gym, knowing that in just a few hours, people would be here to workout.

We got dressed, stealing kisses as we thought about what we’d just done.

“Ye go on home, Sassenach,” he smiled, tossing his shirt over his head. “I need to clean up a few things before joinin’ ye.”

“I wonder why you feel the need to clean?” I smirked, and then kissed him one last time.

As I started to walk out of the gym and back to my car, my knees wobbled and a throbbing ache formed in between my thighs.

“I love working out,” I said to myself, laughing and wondering what machine we would conquer next.

#outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #one shot #one your knees #canon quotes #working out #jamie working out lawD #outlander fanfiction #jamie fraser #claire fraser

270 notes · View notes