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swissboyhisch · 1 year ago

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Halloween Surprise

Pairing: Matthew Knies x Marner!Reader

Summary: The team's Halloween party seemed like the perfect time to reveal to everyone who you were dating.

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: Alcohol, blood, a little bit of 18+ content towards the end.

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Halloween. Your favourite holiday by far. Growing up, your parents decorated the house with tons of decorations and your mum always went all out with family costumes. When you moved to Toronto to live with your older brother and his girlfriend, you were always in charge of organising the Halloween parties or costumes.

And nothing changed. As soon as it was announced it was Mitch’s turn to host the team’s Halloween party, he came straight to you. It was your job to organise everything but luckily, since Mitch will be busy with the start of the hockey season, Steph is more than happy to help you. It would give her something to do. And it means the two of you can spend more time together.

First thing was to create a list of people who would get the invites. Then organise a time and place for the party. Mitch and Steph said they’re happy to have it at their place instead of hiring out a place. Due to game schedule conflict, the party was going to take place on the Friday before Halloween.

Once the who, what, when and where was decided, Steph and you designed the invites and sent those out as soon as possible. Next was the entertainment. You had a couple Halloween Playlists from previous parties you had hosted so you just said you would bring your audio system and set it up around the house and use Spotify. Food wise, Steph said that she was thinking the two of you make the food the couple days leading up to it. She loved to cook, and you loved to bake so it was the perfect pair. Drinks were just going to be bins with cans of alcohol and soft drink in them and pitchers of cocktails. Then it was just costumes for you guys and decorating the house and backyard.

“What are we going to dress as?” Asked Mitch as he joined the planning party of you and Steph on the couch.

You just smirk, “You two are going to be a ken and barbie variant. It fits so perfectly.”

Steph let out a squeal of excitement. It really was perfect for them. “Oh my god, yes!”

“And Auston is going to be Alan. A permanent third wheel.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It’s a surprise,” You retorted to your brother. As a fashion major, you had an endless number of options. But one in particular was the number one choice. It wasn’t hard but it was a fun one. “You’ll see at the party.”

Then it was onto planning the couple’s costumes. For Steph, you were thinking of a cute pink satin dress that stopped mid high. Low cut but not as low as you could go. A pair of cute white heels and white accessories. Her hair is in waves with pink makeup and hints of silver. A white clutch to top it off.

Mitch, luckily, will go with whatever you choose. Which is going to be matching pink pants, a white button down not fully buttoned and a pink satin scarf in the pocket. That will be made from the same fabric as the dress. His hair will be styled and maybe you can convince him to have a little makeup on.

Auston was a little harder, but he was going to be dressed in blue pants that are the same as Mitch’s and shirt striped like Alan’s sweater in the movie. A permanent third wheel who you question their involvement in a relationship.

You lived in an apartment in the city, close to where you work. Since Mitch and Steph got married, well a bit before that, you managed to find an apartment and skedaddle out of there. So, you found yourself the night before the party organising your bag full of your costume to take over to Mitch’s place early in the morning. It was late but it had to be done now and you had gone to the game against the Stars.

Your apartment's buzzer going off surprised you. No-one was expected. When you peaked at the camera footage, the familiar boy dressed in the same suit as earlier was standing there waving at the camera. You were quick to let him in and eagerly await his arrival.

“Hey,” Matt greeted as you let him into your apartment. Pressing a kiss to your lips. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing here at this time of night?”

He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it up on your coat rack, “Was on my way back to John’s from the arena and thought I’d stop in.”

“And does John know where you are?” You question.

“Yes, I told him,” Matt whispers, his lips brushing against yours softly. His warm breath mixes with your own. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

You had to shower so despite Matt already showering at the arena he took up the opportunity to join in on your naked task. The two of you took a little longer than necessary but it was all in good fun. Now you were cuddled up in your bed with Coraline on the tv.

“Seriously?” Matt chuckles when he sees the movie title card.

You just shrugged innocently, “it’s a favourite at this time of year.”

“This time of year?” He laughs harder knowing the truth behind that statement. “You mean any time of year.”

The next morning you were up early regardless of Matt’s whining when your alarm went off. The brunette tried to keep you in bed a little longer, but you wanted to get ready and head over to Mitch’s. The boys had a morning skate so you knew Matt would have to get up anyway. No sympathy from you.

“I’ll see you tonight. You have your costume right?” You mumble.

Matt hums, pressing a reassuring kiss on your lips. “Yes, I have everything. I get dressed then just have to style my hair and splatter some blood from that bottle over my face and hands.”

“Perfect.” You pressed a kiss to his lips one final time and headed out the door. “Lock up on your way out!”

Steph and you had done most of the cooking and baking yesterday. The big decorations were already done as well, just the main decorations and little bits and pieces were to be put in place.

The drive to your brother’s went quicker than you expected. But it was welcomed as you and Mitch crossed paths; him heading to practice and you arriving. He gave you a quick hug before you retreated into the house where Steph was eagerly waiting.

“Let’s get this started,” She says excitedly, pressing play on her phone.

Halloween themed songs started playing through the music system you guys had set up the previous day. You two finished off the food first giving it time to rest and cool. Then onto decorations. Starting with the inside, you decorated the entryway, then lounge room and dining room before finishing with the backyard.

“I think we are finished,” Steph states happily, looking over the pair of you’s hard work.

With a glance at your phone, it was 3pm. Perfect time to slowly start to get ready. “I’m gonna go have a shower and start getting ready.”

“Good idea.”

You went straight to your old room that had an ensuite and started to lay out your outfit. A pair of black booty shorts, a black lace corset bra, a blood splattered white button down and a pair of fishnets. That was the basis of your costume. Then a mask that was the same as Matt’s, both lighting up blue.

First things first, shower and prep first before starting on your hair. Then onto make-up, pretty simple, before getting into your costume. The last touch was blood splattering over your make-up. When you finished getting ready, you went downstairs to make a cocktail for Steph and yourself.

“Oo, what’s on the menu?” Steph questions as she comes downstairs in her costume.

“You look so good!” Steph did a twirl for you. “Ah, I picked the perfect costume.”

At the mention of that, Mitch came down solidifying the choice. He was the perfect Ken. Complimenting Steph’s barbie. When he came into the kitchen, he looked you over. Looking at your costume. “What are you?”

“From the purge,” You answer. You poured two cocktails into nice glasses and slid it over to Steph. “Cheers to another successful Halloween.”

“Cheers.”

When you took your first sip, the doorbell rang. Mitch went to greet whichever teammate had arrived first. And knowing the team, it’s either Mitch’s boyfriend (Auston) or the captain and his wife.

“What’s up little Marns?” Auston greets as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I like the costume.”

“Thanks Aus.”

The group all enjoyed the music that was playing and the alcohol while waiting for others. Soon Will and his girlfriend arrived dressed as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo. Penny joined the other two girls drinking cocktails while the boys sat around outside chatting.

“So, are you still talking to that guy?” Steph asks.

Penny immediately turns on you. “Guy? What guy?”

“Uh,” You stutter. Steph was the only person to know you were talking to a guy. But she didn’t know who he was. “Yeah, I’m still talking to the guy.”

“Who is he?”

You shrug and go to answer the door as an excuse to leave the conversation. The person knocked at the door again as you walked down the hallway.

“You will tell us sooner or later,” Steph calls from the kitchen.

The door opened to reveal Matthew, dressed exactly how you envisioned. God, he looked so good. Even with the blood splattered all over him. The brunette lifted his mask and smiled down at you. Well, more like smirked.

“Heya babe,” he muttered, making sure to peek over your shoulder before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Hey, you look good!”

“So do you.”

You shut the door behind him and lead him through to the kitchen. As soon as Steph took in Matthew’s costume, she knew exactly who you were talking to. Her eyes lit up as she ran to hug the boy. It was the first team event for Steph to meet the rookie player.

“Hi, welcome to the team,” Steph rushes out excitedly. She looked over the pair of you and your matching costumes. “How are you liking Toronto?”

“I have a good guide,” He replies, sending a small smile to the girl beside him.

“Where’s the captain?” Mitch asks when he sees Knies.

You waited for your brother’s reaction but it seemed like it wasn’t clicking. Oh well, it will make sense at some point in his golden retriever brain.

Matt shrugs, “He and Aryne were waiting on the babysitter.”

“Ah, come join the boys out back,” Mitch suggests, already making his way outside again.

Steph lets out a chuckle, “We’ll see if it clicks for him at some point.”

Matt just shrugged again and kissed you once more and made his way to join his teammates outside on the patio. When the backdoor shut, Steph and Penny both turned and gave you a look.

“The rookie? Really?”

“He’s cute,” You argue.

The pair both agree with a laugh and start to ask you a billion questions. When did you meet him? Where? What was your first date? At the arena before a preseason game. Then he took you out for a late-night meal at a diner.

Soon the house was full of team members and staff dressed in every type of costume you could imagine. Funny, scary, awesome, iconic. You name it, someone is dressed in it. Everyone was mingling and snacking on all the things you and Steph had made during the week.

“Hey,” Matt greets as he comes up to you talking to Aryne.

Aryne smiled at the two of you dressed up together. “I love the costumes.”

“That was all her,” The brunette grinned. He pressed a kiss to your temple but soon was interrupted by a yell.

“What?!” You turn to where Mitch was standing with William and Auston. “No way.”

Steph was quick to drag Mitch inside, with the other two of the trio following suit. Luckily not many people had seen the scene created. Knowing your brother, if you and Matt delayed the conversation any longer, he’d come and drag you too in as well.

“Let’s get this over with,” You mutter, slipping your hand into Matt’s.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, Mitch only paid attention to the joint hands. “Oh no, no, no.” He speeds up to you two and separates you both. “Not for the life of me are you dating a hockey player.”

“Come on Mitch.”

He shook his head. “No. I told mum and dad I’d protect you when you moved out here with me.”

“Mitch, I’m not 18 anymore. I’m a big girl. I can date who I want without your permission.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to convince you, he turned on Matthew. He got up in the rookie’s face. “And you! I told you that my sister was off limits!”

Matt couldn’t get in a word before you stepped in and pushed your brother a step back. But he was quick to pull you into his side.

“Mitch,” Steph murmured.

“I’m serious about her,” Matt spoke up. “She’s perfect. Smart, beautiful, talented. She’s not your sister, she’s just her own, amazing person.”

You teared up. That last point he said was an insecurity you had shared with him. People only want to be with you because of your brother. “Matty.”

“She’s my person,” Matt stated. Making sure to look your brother in the eyes to convey how serious he was.

“Let them be Mitch,” Auston chuckles, “They like each other. If he hurts her we can beat him later.”

“Fine,” your brother huffed.

You skipped up to him and hugged him. “Thanks Mitchy. Love you!”

Without another word, you intertwined your fingers with Matt’s and dragged him to your old room.

“Door stays open!” Mitch screams when he realises where you were going.

You didn’t listen to your brother’s order though. Matt made sure to slam the door loud enough for your brother to hear it over the music. When the door was closed, Matt immediately pulled off your mask from the top of your head before kissing you hard.

“God you look so good,” He groaned “And your ass in those shorts.”

After making sure the door was locked, you pushed Matt onto the bed. First piece of clothing to come off was the button down. Revealing the lacy corset for all to see. For Matt to see.

“Damn baby.”

You giggle and dance along to the faint sound of ‘I Put A Spell On You’. Matt grabs your hips guiding you close and flipped the script, making you on the bed and leaned over you. His hand gripped onto your hip as he rubbed his hard dick against your pussy. You let out a quiet moan which only spurred the man on more.

“Yeah, I’m gonna make you scream,” He smirks.

Matthewkniews posted on Instagram!

Liked by mapleleafs, johntaveres and others

matthewknies: What a killer halloween 🔪 tagged: y/nmarner

user: Holyyyyy. This was not on my 2023 bingo card

mitchmarner: Still not over this

y/nmarner: did I ask for your opinion?

stephmarner: be nice you two

user: KNIES OMG

user: new kink unlocked Liked by y/nmarner

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

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noneedtoamputate · 1 year ago

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Chuck/Ellen, #10 😌

Sorry this took so long. I had free time this earlier this month, and then I didn't. The prompt was for the word "monument," and I know a monument should be a more permanent structure than how I used it in the story, but this idea came to me and I decided to go with it. The picture of Skip and Chuck mentioned in the story is the third one down.

November 2, 1967

The front door opened and shut as Ellen checked the cornbread in the oven.

“Please go tell your brother and sister that supper is ready,” she asked Ron, their middle child, doing homework at the kitchen table. “And don't …”

“SUPPER’S READY!” He closed his textbook and ran off toward his bedroom.

“ … yell,” Ellen said under her breath.

“Did I hear supper’s ready?” Chuck walked into the kitchen, home from work.

Ellen rolled her eyes and accepted his kiss to her cheek. “Why walk a few steps when you can just scream at the top of your lungs?”

Chuck washed his hands at the sink and Ellen arranged food on the table as the sounds of children grew closer.

“What’s for supper?” asked Ken. At fourteen, he was already taller than Ellen and towered over Ron, only a year younger but who had not yet hit his growth spurt.

“Chili,” replied Ellen, as she filled a bowl and handed it to Chuck.

“Ugh, chili? Mom, you know I don’t like it. You always make what the boys want to eat,” Mary complained. At eleven, she already displayed angst usually reserved for teenagers.

“Your mother isn’t running a restaurant,” Chuck said firmly. “Eat it or make yourself a sandwich.”

Mary decided it was easier to eat the chili. She didn’t really feel like making her own supper, and she certainly didn’t want to hear her dad go on about eating K rations in Bastogne or all the hungry kids he went to school with during the depression.

After the boys helped themselves to seconds, Ellen asked the dreaded question.

“What was one thing you learned at school today?”

Sometimes, it was like pulling teeth, getting her children to recall one fact from the day. But tonight, Mary had something to share, much to the relief of her brothers.

“Today is The Day of the Dead,” Mary stated.

“Never heard of it,” Ken said, his mouth full of cornbread.

“It’s a holiday in Mexico. In Spanish, it’s called Dia … de … los … Ma … Mo …”

“Muertos,” finished Ron.

“Show off,” Ken replied.

“You’d know it too, if you weren’t taking a useless language,” Ron argued.

“French isn’t useless,” Ellen countered. “I’m sure your father would have liked knowing more French when he landed in Normandy.”

“Did just fine with the War Department phrasebook, but thanks for your concern.”

Ken noticed his parents smile at each other and share a look, like they were saying something with their eyes.

He wondered why they were so weird.

“But we live in San Francisco,” Ron explained. “And it’s pretty dumb to take French just because of a girl in your class. Carla Marconi,” he teased his brother.

“Shut up!” Ken shouted.

“Hey!” Chuck shouted louder. “Knock it off, the both of you.”

Mary continued, completely unconcerned about the ruckus her brothers made.

“It’s a day when you remember family and friends who have died,” she explained.

“Sounds pretty depressing,” Ron said.

“No, you're supposed to remember happy memories, and the good things about them. It's not supposed to be sad.”

“What else?” Ron asked. Ellen looked up. It was unusual for one of the boys to take an interest in what their little sister had to say.

“You decorate an altar, or a table, with pictures of the dead people in your family, and flowers. Teresa Gonzalez explained how everyone in her family helps put it together.”

“That sounds like a beautiful way to remember loved ones,” Ellen commented.

“I told Teresa we had an altar like that at our house, too. Not with the flowers, but with the pictures,” Mary went on.

“We do?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah, we do,” Ken said, and Ron nodded in agreement.

The kids stood up and walked toward the family room. Ellen and Chuck looked at each other quizzically and followed.

Ken, Ron, and Mary stood in front of the built-in bookshelves Chuck and Ellen installed a few years after they bought the house. On the top row, too high to easily reach a book, were framed photos of family and friends.

“Uncle Ken,” Ron said simply, pointing to a picture of Ellen’s brother in his Marine dress blues, his arm around his proud older sister before he shipped out to Korea.

“Mom said he always told the best jokes and was really good at football. There was that time when the starting quarterback got hurt and he went in and threw a touchdown to win the game,” his namesake recalled about the uncle he never had a chance to meet.

“He would have loved to watch you play,” Ellen said to her oldest son, who played on his JV high school team this past season, and he smiled.

“And there's Skip Muck,” Mary said, his arm around Chuck after they earned their jump wings. “He got his nickname because when he was little, he skipped everywhere. He was the nicest guy in the company, right, Dad?” Chuck nodded, unable to say anything in the moment.

“Grandma Thompson,” Ron said. A picture of Ellen’s motger, with a young Ellen seated next to her while she held a baby Ken, before she had given up on life.

“I don’t really remember her, and she wasn't the nicest person, but you must have learned something from her because you’re a good mom,” Mary said to Ellen.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Ellen said, and she felt tears start in her eyes.

“And Grandpa Grant,” Ron continued. Chuck stood next to his dad, mirror images of each other. Chuck looked about sixteen, not long before his father passed away.

“He taught you how to read the box scores and play baseball and loved the Pirates,” Ken said.

“He drove you and Gran all the way from Pittsburgh when you moved here,” Mary remembered.

Chuck nodded. “I was just a bit younger than you,” he said, remembering that time when his dad had been laid off at the steel mill and they moved to California for the promise of work. He often wondered if he could have been as brave as his father, starting over like that. How many times he wished he could ask his dad for advice, on how to be a good husband or a good father.

“And there’s Eugene Jackson. He died on that patrol.” Ken pointed at his picture. It was a picture of Second Platoon on the back of a truck, taken after they captured Foy.

“He was just sixteen when he joined the army. It was the first time in a long time he had three meals a day. He would scarf down everything in front of him, even if the food was terrible,” Ron recalled.

Chuck noticed Ken’s eyes get large, realizing that Eugene was not much older than him when he joined up. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder. Ellen saw Mary’s eyes glance downwards, perhaps feeling a bit ashamed for complaining about chili when Private Jackson went hungry growing up.

“He was a good paratrooper. Did everything he was asked and looked out for his squad,” Chuck shared.

The children looked at the pictures quietly, and Chuck and Ellen looked at each other. They never sat down and shared these stories. They had all come out in bits and pieces. Stories about Skip when the Christensons came over and Chuck and Pat would talk well into the night. Ellen with a passing comment about the difficult relationship with her mother. Happy memories of Ken on Veterans Day.

The kids had been listening. And they remembered.

Eventually, the boys left to finish their homework and Mary turned on the television to watch The Flying Nun.

Ellen settled Mary into bed and told the boys it was time for lights out, though she knew the desk lamp would find its way on soon enough.

She finished up in the kitchen and saw Chuck sitting outside on the patio. If asked, most people would have described Chuck as friendly, outgoing, funny. And he was all those things. But he also had a quiet side, and sometimes he needed to be alone with his thoughts, to think things through without the distractions of a business, a wife, three kids. Ellen was more than happy to give him that space and time.

The table cleared, the dishes done, the floor swept, Ellen started the kettle and grabbed a coat and blanket from the hall closet.

She slid open the patio door.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Chuck shook his head. He loved that Ellen asked, and that if he answered yes, she wouldn't have minded in the slightest. How lucky he was to have someone understand him the way she did.

She sat down next to him, handed him the mug of tea, and laid the blanket over their laps.

They sat quietly, Chuck holding the mug and a cigarette in his right hand. Ellen hadn’t smoked regularly in years, but the smell of Lucky Strikes was comforting.

It was the smell of Chuck. It was the smell of home.

“Remember when you came back from the doctor’s office after you found out you were expecting Ken?” Chuck broke the silence.

“I do,” Ellen said.

“We were so excited, but I didn't know if I would be able to hack it, and you thought you would turn into your mother.”

She nodded at the bittersweet memory.

He turned to face her.

“I think we’re doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Ellen repeated.

“They still have terrible taste in music and their rooms are a mess, but they’re doing okay in the things that really matter.”

“I read something once that you only live as long as the last person who remembers you,” Ellen said.

“That's a nice notion,” Chuck said. “It sounds like something Skip would have said.”

They went quiet again, thinking about their loved ones who would live on just a little bit longer because their children cared enough to know their stories.

#asked and answered #every beautiful thing #chuck grant #ellen thompson #band of brothers #band of brothers fan fiction #band of brothers fic #fanfic

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uselesslesbiab · 3 years ago

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What do SEES and the Phantom Thieves do for Halloween?

I originally wasn’t gonna make a post about either of these groups but I will indulge you and only you because you always send me like the best asks ever.

SEES

Akihiko insists on wearing a costume that allows him to be shirtless every year. He doesn’t care how many times Mitsuru reminds him that it’s October and it’s cold outside and that he’s going to be complaining within 5 minutes of leaving the house. She’s right every year.

Mitsuru doesn’t fare much better though; no matter what her costume is she’s always wearing the tallest heels in the room and then regrets her decision because her feet hurt like hell and she can barely walk. Akihiko gets mad that she’s taller than him.

Ken and Koromaru dress up as Russell and Doug from Up. Shinjiro very reluctantly dresses up as Carl.

Per Fuuka’s suggestion, they all go to a haunted house together. What’s the worst that can happen? They’ve all handled Tartarus, surely they can handle some cheap fake scares

They were oh so very wrong.

Junpei screams before they even get through the door. The spiderweb decoration got caught on his hat and he couldn’t get it off. Shinjiro smacks the hat off him.

Akihiko and Ken try to match each other’s bravado and manage to make it about halfway through without screaming. They get so wound up that they both bump into Shinjiro at the same time and jump about a foot in the air.

Yukari quite literally jumps into Mitsuru’s arms at some point in the middle and Mitsuru just carries her the rest of the way through

Well, almost the rest of the way. Chainsaw guy came out from behind a door and Mitsuru dropped Yukari and ran. Heels and all.

Minato and Aigis are the only ones straight faced and completely fine most of the time. Aigis has sensors that detect anything ready to pop out at her so she’s never surprised.

The rest of them think Minato’s just too tough or watches a lot of horror movies but really he was just listening to music the whole time and not paying attention.

Surprisingly, Fuuka’s the one who ends up punching a performer and gets them kicked out.

Phantom Thieves

They all plan to have a Halloween party at Leblanc. Shenanigans ensue.

Sojiro tells Futaba she can put up decorations as long as she doesn’t scare the customers. She doesn’t listen and puts up whatever she wants.

Or rather, she makes Morgana put them up while she puts together the perfect Halloween playlist. Morgana gets tape stuck to his paws and does the little cat thing where they lose their shit.

Ryuji and Ann are in charge of bringing the snacks. Yusuke somehow hijacks them on the way to the party and eats half of everything.

Haru comes in the bloodiest costume you can imagine. They don’t even know what she’s supposed to be she just has an axe and is drenched head to toe in fake blood.

Ren takes Yusuke to a spirit Halloween for the first time and he launches into an angry rant about how cheaply all the costumes are made and how it’s an affront to the art world. They are promptly escorted from the premises.

Makoto shows up in possibly the most boring and impractical costume of all time. She’s an egg and she cannot make it through the door.

Ren tries to cook a “spooky” version of Sojiro’s curry. All he did was make it super spicy and add way too much orange food coloring. It looks and tastes like Chester Cheetah took a shit on a plate.

Akechi shows up uninvited dressed as Batman because he’s a stupid little nerd. He does the Batman voice until everyone gets sick of him and Ryuji throws him out.

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lenaariewrld · 4 years ago

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10. the pretty boys x moss bitches

You laid your cheek on your hand, smiling fondly as you simply watched the group of men in front of you yell, run around, and create a general amount of chaos in the kitchen. Kenma also sat beside you, your comrade in the silent intake of the scene. He mimicked your pose, the both of you half-leaning on each other.

In front of you, Kuroo, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, Hinata, Tanaka, and Bokuto occupied the space of the kitchen. Bokuto kept trying to steal the tub of frosting to eat from it, being swatted away by Yamaguchi and Tanaka. Kageyama was wandering around trying to help out with the limited technical skills he had in the kitchen, with Hinata following behind him and also poking fun at him. Tanaka was trying to get actual work done, working around Kuroo (leading the whole chaos and bossing everyone around) and Yamaguchi (who was trying to overthrow Kuroo).

Kiyoko and Yachi were on the sidelines, their aprons still tied around their waists but their efforts to participate long-since abandoned. Tsukishima was sitting at the dining table, in his own little world and attempting to drown out the screams of the others with his music. Nishinoya had been, shockingly, well-behaved from the get-go and just watched your roommates with a suspicious amount of eye contact. You assumed it had to do with Sugawara and his lack of composure to instead encourage Bokuto and Hinata’s antics.

“Y/n! Please try to get your friends under control!” Hinata complained, ducking under Bokuto’s umpteenth attempt to steal the frosting tub. You hummed as if thinking, tilting your head up and tapping your chin.

“No, I don’t think I will,”

Hinata whined loudly, slapping his arms dramatically against the island counter you sat yourself at. He groaned and whined out your nickname, dragging it out as long as inhumanly possible. “You’re being no help!” He said, patting his hands on the cool marble (you were pretty sure that’s what it was. That seemed boujee enough for Ken).

You laughed. “I’m not trying to be,” reaching out, you ruffled his hair, the orange locks sticking out even messier than before. Hinata pouted at you, busting out his deadly weapon. Puppy eyes. The one thing you couldn’t say no to with him (well, that and shopping, food, going on walks, late-night grocery runs, and convenience store trips). You tried looking away, averting your eyes.

Unhelpfully, Kenma guided your head to look back at the wide-eyed ginger. You groaned, ‘FIne,” You admitted defeat, sliding off the chair as slowly as possible. Hinata smiled wide, reaching over and patting Kenma’s shoulder. He also whispered something that made the blond-haired man duck his head, hiding his face in his hair.

“Okay,” You rolled your shoulders, stepping into the fray.

It took about ten minutes to get everyone calm and sorted out, only getting the guy’s attention by reminding them that they all had gathered in the Pretty Boys (now, the Pretty Boys and Singular Girl) house to celebrate your half-year milestone. Eventually, Kuroo and Yamaguchi agreed to oversee separate food projects, enlisting the remaining guys to help. Plus Kiyoko and Yachi.

Once the chaos had died down a little bit, it was a lot more relaxed. The guys chatted as they cooked or sat around the kitchen. Tanaka, Sugawara, and Hinata offered many embarrassing stories about you. Funny little anecdotes and misadventures that left you red-faced and spluttering.

“There was one time, Y/n and I went to go on a hike up this really tall mountain, and halfway through she asked me ‘when are we getting food’ because she thought I was treating her after the hike. We had barely been there ten minutes,” Sugawara laughed, wrapping his arm around you and shaking you lightly.

“Sounds like our Y/n!” Bokuto laughed, smiling brightly at you from across the kitchen. He happily licked a single spoonful of the frosting, taking his time with it. You stuck your tongue out at him playfully in response to his remark.

“At least I didn’t buy six fake plants and water them for months on end, only to figure out they were fake because they were growing mold,” You retorted to the grey-haired male still sort of hugging you, poking the little beauty mark by his eye.

He pinched your cheeks. “I take care of all my plants, real or not!” He said.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him off you and crossing your arms over your chest in a fake pout. Of course, it was hard to pretend to be angry when all your best friends were surrounding you and knew just how to crack your flimsy facade.

Hinata offered a different story than just one about you, sharing stories from his high school days. The conversation continued to flow and change, ranging from topics like high school and college to what kind of deep-sea conspiracies you all believed in and would defend to your grave.

You think you got distracted quite a few times, occasionally torn away from the conversation to just watch your friends interact. It was a warm atmosphere. Spices and sweet foods being baked and prepped around the space, wafting through the air with the sound of laughter and the gentle hum of music from a speaker Kei had set up. The warm glow of everyone’s cheeks from their smiles and the drinks being consumed. The cool dry air. Everything added up to make your skin feel warm, your insides all fuzzy and bubbly.

A yawn escaped you involuntarily and you pulled your arms closer around yourself, leaning against Kenma’s shoulder and snuggling into the warmth of his body. No one else seemed to notice or comment on it.

“You getting tired?” Kenma asked, not looking up from his console that he had snuck down here despite Kuroo adamantly trying to prevent him from getting too absorbed in a game.

“Maybe,” You mumbled, your eyes half-lidded. You watched Tanaka attempt to flip a pan in his hand, smacking himself in the forehead instead and laughing wildly after rubbing the spot. “I’m really glad you suggested this, Ken,” You squeezed his bicep gently and let your hands fall in your lap again.

He simply hummed, patting your hand in return and focusing on his game.

The food was finished a little while later, with a couple of your favorite dishes and sides, and a decent-sized cake. It was decorated all fancy-like thanks to Tadashi. You helped set the table with dishes and cups, sitting at a chair and smiling at the others. The food was delicious and you felt a little more awake and ready to converse again now that you were sitting somewhere else. Plus, everyone was keeping the energy up.

previous | masterlist | end of general route

funfacts:

nishi and hinata were trying to figure out if any of the pretty boys liked y/n the whole night like weirdos

y/n’s twitter mentions was flooded with people asking for pretty boys x moss bitches

the bet is now at $277 USD

author note: hi! i really hope you all enjoyed the general route for this smau!! from here on out, i will be working on the routes for the separate boys! but first, i’m going to take a couple days to work on route storylines and figure out which boy to get to first

taglist: @odxrilove @pogpixelz @toshiswifey @thechaosoflonging @anime-meme-sanctuary @chaseyui @lucyrocks86 @mirikusashes @bolinhodadestruicao @w0rm-babie @fandomsgotmefucked @meena-in-a-nutshell @halcyondaisy @emisse @cerealfrdinner797

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq smau #haikyū!!#haikyuu smau #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Ginger Snap

A/N I was driving down the highway today and saw the license plate “I PieGuy”. By the time I got home, this story was half-born in my head. I have no idea where it might go, but it’s taking up valuable shelf space in there, so I’m birthing it onto paper. Modern AU. Silly fluff. Claire POV. First person, which I never write, so watch out for stray pronouns.

The shriek of the fire alarm was the final straw. I’d just stepped out of the kitchen for a minute, but that was all it took for calamity to strike. Opening the oven door in a panic, billows of smoke engulfed me before I slammed it shut again.

“Shit. Shitshitshit. Shit!”

Waving a damp dish towel back and forth like a flag of surrender above my head caused the head-splitting siren to finally desist. I blew a rogue curl off my sweaty brow and gave myself a pep talk.

“Time to woman up,” I sighed before donning the oven gloves and cautiously cracking the door once again. More smoke escaped, smelling of burnt pastry and ruined hopes. Once it cleared I could see the charred carcasses of what were supposed to be vol au vent shells. I carefully extracted them from the oven and dropped the cooking sheet with a clatter onto the quartz countertop.

“Dinner is D.O.A, Doctor Beauchamp. Now what the fuck am I going to do?”

***

Thirty minutes were spent cleaning the evidence of yet another cooking fiasco and ventilating our flat by opening every available window to let in the moist Edinburgh breeze. I now had less than four hours before Frank and three other members of the university faculty would be descending, expecting a home-cooked meal and polite chitchat. I was in no position to offer either.

In a last-ditch effort to salvage the evening, I typed “sophisticated home catering in Edinburgh” and started dialing. The first four numbers yielded either an answering machine or the news (unsurprising) that at least two days’ advanced notice were required to book their services. Nearly resigned to ordering in Italian and facing Frank’s wrath, a woman’s voice with a thick Scottish brogue picked up at the fifth business I called.

“Ye’ve reached Ginger Snap, this is Jenny speaking. How may I help ye t’day?”

I poured out my tale of culinary woe, laying it on a bit thick, but I was truly desperate by this point.

“Aye, we’ve a chef available this afternoon. What sort of menu were ye planning?” she asked.

“Really? Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver!”

I gave Jenny the number of guests and a broad idea of what I’d hoped to serve, although I was in no position to be choosy.

“Never ye fear, Ms. Beauchamp. We’ll pick up the necessary items and our chef will be at yer flat by four. Tha’ should leave jus’ enough time tae have everything ready fer six.”

Thanking her profusely and not even inquiring about the charge, I stood triumphant in the middle of my immaculate yet useless kitchen. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?

***

The buzzer rang as I was re-arranging the decorative objects atop our sideboard. I was aiming for the artless sophistication featured in Frank’s favourite design magazines, but instead I lined up each item in order of descending size, or grouped them by historical era. A second buzz had me trotting to the intercom where a male voice crackled.

“This is James Fraser o’ Ginger Snap Catering. Can ye let me in?”

I stuck my head into the hallway to find four organic cotton tote bags bursting with produce at my doorstep. Footsteps pounded down the stairs, where I assumed the chef had retreated to collect more supplies. I brought the first load into the kitchen where I began to unpack foodstuffs the likes of which I’d never seen. Not knowing what else to do to be helpful, I began sorting them; green leafy things here, round crispy things there.

“Hallo?” the same voice called from where I’d left the door ajar. Wiping my hands nervously against my slacks, I went to greet him.

Standing in the doorframe, almost filling it with his immense size, was a young man who seemed more suited to a stag hunt or a rugby pitch than haute cuisine. He had loose tawny curls, two days’ worth of stubble and wore a faded grey henley, dark wash jeans that clung to his muscular legs and utilitarian workman’s boots.

“Claire Beauchamp?” he interrupted my visual inventory.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry. Pleased to meet you.”

Something funny happened when our hands met in a firm shake. A tachycardic blip, my internal medicine professor would have called it. There was no time to analyze this response, however, as he was already on the move.

“James Fraser, at yer service. I’d normally spend more time getting to know ye and yer style of entertaining, but we’re short on time, so let’s get straight to it, aye?”

I gave the chef a hasty tour of our kitchen, stumbling over the names of various implements and opening the wrong cupboard when looking for my saucepans. I blushed as he raised an expressive eyebrow, but shook it off. I was paying for his cooking proficiency, not his opinion on my lack of domestic competence.

“I ken ye spoke tae Jenny about yer menu, but I took a few liberties at the market, based on what looked freshest. I recommend starting with a simple salad o’ nettle and radish, garnished with a wee round of goat cheese and rye crumbs. Loin o’ lamb with new potatoes and pancetta fer yer main. An’ a simple rhubarb custard fer dessert. There’s none with food allergies, aye?”

“Aye,” I replied, then corrected “umm, no, rather,” at his concerned look. “Are you sure you can manage all that in only,” I glanced at my wristwatch “ninety minutes? It seems like an awful lot of work.”

“Och, tis no’ much. Lamb cooks swiftly, ye ken. Tis why I choose it over pork or poultry.”

My saviour rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, preparing to wash his hands and get down to work. There was probably something else I should be doing elsewhere in the flat to prepare, but I didn’t want to appear completely useless to this unflappable man.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He looked dubious and seemed prepared to politely decline, but then his expression shifted.

“Aye. Ye can wash the tatties an’ chop the rhubarb while I dress the lamb, if ye dinna mind,” he suggested.

“Scrubbing in and wielding a knife happen to be two of the only transferrable job skills I bring to cooking,” I joked, taking my turn in front of the massive Belfast sink.

He emitted a low Scottish grunt of amusement before we each settled into companionable silence, focusing on our respective duties. I glanced over at him surreptitiously, envying the ease with which he moved from task to task, lean and nimble hands working alchemy where I only succeeded in producing dross.

“Ye’re a doctor, then?” he asked after my chopped rhubarb had been set on the stovetop to stew and the lamb was marinating in a bath of lemon and fresh herbs.

“Umm, well, I was. My partner and I moved here from Boston, where I trained as a surgeon. I haven’t yet obtained my license to practice here in the UK, so I’m afraid I’m just a culinary liability for the moment.”

It was a current source of strife in my relationship with Frank. He liked the idea of me keeping house, entertaining and eventually settling down to raise a family. I chaffed at this unfamiliar routine. But until I passed my licensing exams, it was rather a moot point.

“I’m sure ye’re far more than that,” he replied solemnly, before breaking into a sneaky grin. “I’ve ne’er seen stalks of rhubarb cut quite sae... uniform. Ye’d have a fine career in quality control, if ye wished.”

I faked throwing a dish towel at him while we both laughed.

“What about you, Mr. Fraser? How did you get into the catering business?” It wasn’t polite conversation. I was really quite curious to know more about him.

“I’ll tell ye, but only if ye call me Jamie.” At my nod, he continued, “twas my Mam. She was always a great cook, but then my Da passed suddenly and she with three bairns under the age of ten tae raise. She needed tae work. We moved tae Edinburgh an’ she laboured day and night tae save enough tae start her own catering business. Since I was a lad, when I wasna in school I was in her kitchen, watching and learning all the while.”

His striking face took on a faraway expression, and I knew he was remembering those days with a mixture of wistfulness and love. I recognized the look from my own reflection, when I thought about my dead parents. Without realizing it, I lay my palm over his forearm where it had stilled above my butcher’s block. His eyes were the same hue as midsummer blueberries, and they regarded me with silent inquiry.

A timer made us both jump, my hand falling to my side. What was I thinking, touching this stranger who I was paying to cook dinner for my boyfriend’s guests? I really needed to find a hobby, so my mind didn’t latch onto any feeble excuse for stimulation.

Brushing my hands against my thighs, I quickly excused myself and left to get properly dressed for dinner. Only thirty minutes remained before Frank and his colleagues were due to arrive.

I spent more time than was strictly necessary away from the kitchen, afraid I’d made things awkward with Jamie. By the time I finally returned, he was plating the lamb and putting the custard in the refrigerator to set. I tried to think of something to say that would re-establish the fluent rapport from earlier on.

“I’ve opened the wine tae let it breathe,” Jamie said without looking at me. I wished there was a similar process for blundering Englishwomen.

“Jamie, I really don’t know how to...”

The sound of the front door opening interrupted me and Frank’s nasal voice rang out from the entryway.

“Claire, we’re here!”

“Fuck!” I exclaimed. Jamie tipped his head sideways in question. “I never had time to explain to my partner that I hired your services. That’s the dean of his faculty out there, and...” I broke off, looking frantically around the room as though a trap door would suddenly materialize. Quick on his feet, Jamie understood the situation immediately. The kitchen windows were still open after my earlier catastrophe. With surprising grace for one so large, he slid through the opening and onto the fire escape.

“Bon appetit, Claire Beauchamp,” the ginger chef wished from outside, a mischievous smirk lighting his whole countenance.

I stood, mouth open in shock, as he gave an abbreviated bow before scampering down the metal ladder just as Frank entered the kitchen behind me.

“This smells delicious, darling. We really are going to make a chef out of you yet.”

#my writing #outlander

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jamiemackenziefraser · 4 years ago

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All That Was Fair

Chapter 9: Terrors and Delights of the Great Unknown

Chapter Summary: Claire gets her first taste of the human world.

Read on AO3

Read chapter 9 below the cut

Previous, from beginning , next

Chapter 9: Terrors and Delights of the Great Unknown

***

Claire clung tightly to his hand as he led her through the streets of Inverness. Her eyes were huge as watermelons, pupils blown wide as she tried to take in all the sensations assaulting her.

Jamie thought the buildings were the first shock she was trying to come to terms with. Her neck craned up to look at them, glancing nervously at their looming presence all around them. She’d seen Jamie’s house, of course, but that was nothing like the crowded buildings of the city. Her eyes glanced upward toward the sky— likely grounding herself with the one familiar aspect. Much to Jamie’s delight, she then glanced toward him, and peace flashed across her face.

If Jamie’s nearness offered comfort akin to the sky, he could die happy.

The buildings were quickly overshadowed by the disconcerting nature of the people around them. She shied toward him— her body pressing to his side like it was her refuge— every time another person passed, even if they were meters away. Some of the passersby gave her strange looks, apparently seeing her odd behavior (not to mention her attire) which completely unnerved Claire. In addition to never having interacted with another human save Jamie, she was used to being invisible to them. The puir wee thing trembled at his side, but bravely continued on.

“Dinna fash, they’ll no’ harm ye,” Jamie reassured quietly.

She gave him a wordless nod, lips pressed tightly together, and continued to meld herself to his side. She no longer stared like a deer in headlights at every person close by, but he could tell she still snuck wary glances at those who wandered near.

As they continued to walk on the cobblestone street, passing by shop windows with elaborate decorations and advertisements, Claire’s anxiety gradually subsided. She began to sneak peeks at the shops as they passed, and Jamie smiled to himself. As the trepidation was replaced more by curiosity, she melted inch by inch. Soon, her death grip on his hand became one of simple connection. She would pause every once in a while to study a shop window, tugging on Jamie’s hand to get him to stop.

He catered to her every whim, even when she wanted to stop and run her hands reverently over the bricks of one building for several minutes while he struggled to explain the basics of construction.

During their (very slow) progress down the street, a broad smile gradually formed on those bonny pink lips. Her eyes now wide with intrigue, Claire was coming alive.

It lightened his heart immensely to see her beginning to enjoy herself and overcome her apprehension. At first, he’d worried to himself that it would all be too much for her— that maybe he’d scare her away from the human world with this single traumatic experience. But that wasn’t the case, and his own anxiety had eased along with hers. He delighted in watching her explore the world with endearing enthusiasm.

He was pulled to a stop once again as Claire peered into the window of an ice cream shop.

“What is this place?” she asked in wonder.

“Och, ‘tis a place where they make food— a special kind called ice cream that humans particularly enjoy.” Jamie was starting to get better at his explanations, trying to boil them down to the simplest things she would understand. (That was more difficult than he would have imagined, mind, because a usual explanation for ice cream would have included descriptors such as “dessert” and “sweet”, but Claire of course lacked the background knowledge for that to make any sense.)

She nodded at his words but didn’t tear her eyes away from the displays of colorful ice cream inside. A smile spread across his face as he watched her take it in, his heart swelling with affection yet again for his strange lass.

“God, I wish ye ate. If this were a movie ye ken there’d be a grand scene where I take ye inside and ye’d experience ice cream for the first time, yer world lightin’ up the instant ye taste it,” he said to himself.

She did tear her eyes away then, to give him a furrowed-brow look of bewilderment.

“What?”

Jamie laughed and shook his head. “Dinna mind me, Sassenach,” he dismissed with a chuckle.

They continued on at their snail’s pace, but before long, Jamie was nearly hauled off his feet by Claire abruptly stopping in front of a trash can.

“What’s this?” she inquired as she reached a hand toward the nearly overflowing bin.

“Dinna touch it,” he pulled her back rather forcefully by their joined hands, and he felt bad when she instantly latched onto his side again, thinking it harmful because of his forceful response. Her fingers were clutching his shirt in a white-knuckled grip.

“It’s no’ dangerous,” he quickly amended, “that’s jes’ what humans do with waste. Things that arena good any more or they dinna need.”

“Why don’t they need all these things?” Claire asked in confusion, squinting her eyes at the contents.

Jamie wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that. “Weel, did ye no’ have things that once served a purpose but then no longer did?”

She peered up at him and gave a shake of her head.

“The Earth provides what we need, and when we’re done, it returns to the earth to be used again.”

“Aye, that’s a good way to live,” Jamie murmured.

Claire still seemed disturbed by the trash as they began walking again, but she soon forgot all about it as more things caught her attention. A passing bicycle brought up a whole new conversation, and Jamie had to chuckle to himself imagining his graceful faerie bumbling around the pedals and clinging to the handlebars. Maybe someday…

Finally— after taking more than three times the amount of time it would have taken the average person to go this short distance— they arrived at the wee thrift shop, tucked on the corner.

Jamie knew the owner, a Mrs. Fitz, who was a very distant relative of his. Although to be fair, everyone in the highlands was practically related. As Jamie pushed open the door and led Claire inside, the little bell rang in welcome and Mrs. Fitz instantly popped up from behind a rack of clothes, her face shining with enthusiasm.

“Och, Jamie, lad!” she exclaimed, “it’s sae good t’ see ye!”

She clasped both her hands over her chest in delight and gave him a wide smile. The shopkeeper quickly bustled over to him, arms outstretched for a hug. But as he tried to withdraw his hand from Claire’s, she stubbornly refused to release him, so he was left giving Mrs. Fitz an odd, one-armed side hug.

Drawing back, she seemed to notice Claire for the first time, and blinked at her for a second.

“Ah, and who is this ye have wi’ ye?” she asked Jamie. She looked pointedly down at their clasped hands, up at Jamie, and then back at Claire.

He looked on in amusement as Mrs. Fitz truly took in Claire’s appearance— the wee lass standing there in his huge jacket, sagging sweatpants, and feet clad in socks and sandals. Mrs. Fitz’ eyes seemed to bulge as she looked at her, and Jamie realized he’d better give an excuse before the shopkeeper combusted.

“This is my… friend, Claire. She’s visitin’ but lost her luggage, and we need tae get her all new stuff. Could ye maybe help us out?”

Mrs. Fitz’ agog morphed quickly into a motherly look of sympathy.

“Ye puir thing, of course we’ll get ye everythin’ ye need.”

She made toward Claire as if she was about to hug her and then lead her toward the racks, but Claire hastily took a step away, bumping into Jamie in the process.

“No’ a hugger I see, no problem,” Mrs. Fitz said accommodatingly with hands raised.

Instead, she simply turned on her heel and headed over toward the first rack in sight— jeans.

Claire was quiet, looking around the room abstractedly and not paying the slightest bit of attention as Mrs. Fitz prattled on about the pants, speculating about Claire’s size and which might best suit her. Jamie was trying to answer the questions on her behalf, but was distracted by the look on Claire’s face, which had suddenly lit up as something caught her eye.

For the first time the entire trip, she let go of Jamie’s hand. (The moment felt absurdly monumental, and he found himself feeling empty without the sensation of her hand clasped in his). He resisted the impulse to gape at her with an open mouth as she wandered across the room with rather astounding boldness. Then, he spotted exactly what it was that had caught her attention.

A gauzy white dress hung on a display hanger, it’s hem fluttering just in the slightest from the air vent above it.

“I like this,” she announced, halting Mrs. Fitz from her perusal of the jeans.

“Och, a dress lass, are ye? Well I think that’d suit ye jes’ fine. Why dinna ye try it on while I grab some others I think might work for ye?”

Jamie quickly thanked her and took Claire’s elbow, steering her in the direction of the dressing room.

“Ye can change into it back here to be sure it fits,” Jamie murmured into her ear.

In one fluid motion, he opened the curtain of the dressing room, shoved the dress into her arms, herded her inside, and then closed the curtain again. Every second Mrs. Fitz wasn’t studying her made it more likely they’d get through this without arousing too many questions.

It took Claire a rather long time to change, he thought. Although she did have a lot of layers to peel off. While she was still inside the changing room, Mrs. Fitz returned and deposited an armful of dresses into Jamie’ lap, all in the same size as the one Claire had picked.

The shopkeeper was just about to open her mouth to ask him something when the bell over the door rang and she scurried away to greet the other customer. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.

It was then that the curtain flew open and Claire emerged, clad in her white dress.

Jamie nearly had a stroke on the spot.

She was divine. The white dress fit her perfectly, clinging to her curves down to her waist where it flared out into the draping of the skirt, the hem falling to just below her knees. A hint of cleavage teased at the neckline, skin creamy-white and looking oh-so soft. She swayed gently back and forth with a faint smile, and the gauzy material of the skirt flowed around her with the movement. It was as if the dress had been made for her.

Under the bright lighting of the shop, Claire’s glow seemed muted to him, although certainly still there. It seemed to accentuate the perfection of the white dress and her dark hair that flowed down her shoulders in sharp contrast— giving her the air of an angel.

Jamie was astounded.

Unaware of how speechless she’d left him, Claire asked shyly, “do you like it?”

He had to swallow three times before his dry throat was capable of answering her.

“Ye look beautiful,” he forced out.

She beamed, twirling around in excitement— which made the skirt billow up around her— and then suddenly she was launching herself at Jamie. Claire hugged him tightly, bare feet on tip-toes as she tried to reach up to be closer to him.

“Thank you, Jamie,” she breathed warmly.

He was ecstatic that something as simple as a new dress could make her this happy.

Mrs. Fitz chose that exact moment to return, her footsteps pattering over and barging in on what Jamie considered a rather private moment.

“Oh, my dear!” she exclaimed as Claire and Jamie parted, “ye look breathtakin.”

Jamie couldn’t have agreed with her more.

Claire flushed, eyelashes lowering demurely, and quietly thanked her. She had barely gotten the words out when Mrs. Fitz began shoving a couple pairs of shoes into her hands. Then, just like the whirlwind she was, Mrs. Fitz breezed off again.

Jamie handed Claire another dress to try on and took all but one pair of the shoes from her. Then, he sat back down to wait.

When Claire next emerged, she was wearing a black sundress with a floral design. Although the hem was above the knee, it wasn’t quite as form-fitting or astonishingly perfect for her (although he thought everything suited her, of course), so Jamie managed to better keep his composure this time.

But the moment she turned around to show him the back, Jamie’s heart stopped beating and his blood ran cold in shock.

He all but tackled her inside the dressing room, falling in after her and then frantically slamming the curtain closed. Once Claire was safely behind him in the privacy of the fitting room, Jamie peeked out a little to ensure no other customer had seen.

Then, he very slowly turned back toward Claire, whose big honey eyes were staring up at him in question.

He didn’t address her. Instead, very gently, he placed his hands on Claire’s shoulders and turned her so he could look at her back again.

The sundress had a low back— a very low back— which exposed the two delicate appendages there.

Wings.

Transparent, beautifully fragile— wings. That laid perfectly flat against her back and shoulders.

Jamie reached a finger out, mesmerized, to gently trace the outline of them.

But the second he made contact with the edge of one, she let out a little squeal and jerked away.

Jamie withdrew his hand as if he was burned, clutching it to his chest in shame.

“I’m sorry, I shouldna have—”

“It’s alright,” she said as she turned to face him, “I just wasn’t expecting… Is that why you shoved me in here? My wings?”

Jamie blinked several times, trying to get his brain to catch up to the situation.

Of course she had wings. She was a faerie after all.

The sound of his name jerked him back to reality, and he realized he’d never answered her.

“You have wings!” he exclaimed daftly, still failing to answer her question and merely staring at her, open-mouthed with astonishment.

“Oh,” she said, glancing behind her at her back casually, as if checking to see they were still there, “of course I have wings. Purely decorative though, I’m afraid.”

Jamie was still struck dumb, but he longed to look at them again. The dressing room was too small for him to be able to walk around her, so he simply reached out and turned her a second time.

They were beautiful. Heartbreakingly delicate looking. He could see through them everywhere except where the veins laced through, like a butterfly’s wing. The edges curved gracefully up toward her shoulders, ending in a point. It took all his willpower to resist the urge to touch them again without permission. They laid flat against her back, and he wondered distantly if she could move them.

As if sensing his curiosity, they suddenly fluttered back toward him— nearly hitting him in the face— and Jamie jolted backward with a surprised laugh.

Claire shot him an amused look from over her shoulder, and fluttered them again in demonstration.

“They’re… beautiful,” he breathed reverently.

“Thanks,” she replied bashfully, “I always thought them dull, really. Some fae have much grander wings, mine are rather small.”

Jamie couldn’t bear to hear any disparaging remarks aimed at the perfection that was Claire, and he made a Scottish sound of derision deep in his throat.

“Everythin’ about ye is perfect,” he stated firmly.

Her wings had settled back flat on her back by this point, and Claire turned around to face him, cheeks adorned with a becoming blush as she adjusted the straps of her sundress over her shoulders again.

“Well…” Jamie said, eying her up and down, “as bonny as ye look in this dress, I’m afraid we canna buy it for fear of exposin’ ye to the world. Ye’re no’ exactly verra inconspicuous...”

Claire bit her lip, perhaps embarrassed about forgetting that minor detail when she’d showed him outside. But he was quick to reassure her.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. No one saw ye earlier. Yer secret’s safe wi’ me.”

He tried to give her a wink, which he was aware was a skill at which he was woefully inept, and she burst out laughing at his attempt.

In that moment, he wanted more than anything to lean down and press his smile to hers.

Before he could do anything foolish like act on the impulse, he quickly ducked out of the dressing room, eyes still fixed on Claire.

He slipped backward through the slit at the edge of the curtain… and right into Mrs. Fitz.

Stumbling away from her, he whirled around to find the shopkeeper with her hands on her hips, face red with admonishment.

“James Fraser,” she uttered in a menacing voice that indicated he was in big trouble, “I understand that ye’re infatuated with yon lassie, but I canna believe that ye’d engage in— in— such depravity. In my shop!”

Jamie fell back a step, hands raised defensively.

“I wasna…”

But Mrs. Fitz wasn’t having any of it. “I wilna condone such behavior, especially not in public when other customers are around. I’m appalled by your behavior, Jamie Fraser—”

When she paused for breath in her tirade, face growing redder by the second, Jamie took the opportunity of the minute gap to jump in, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fitz, but I promise we werena doin’ anythin’ untoward. Listen, we’ll take the lot and be out of yer hair.”

Jamie gestured frantically toward the pile of dresses and shoes, then reached into his pocket for his wallet. He produced a wad of cash and held it out toward Mrs. Fitz like a peace offering.

She looked him up and down for a long moment, eying him and the money with narrowed eyes. Jamie thought for a second that he’d be taking Claire home empty handed, but then Mrs. Fitz reached out and snatched the cash from his hands.

“I want you out,” she said curtly.

Jamie nodded frantically and instinctively backed away a step. Without breaking wary eye contact with Mrs. Fitz, he called into Claire, “get dressed, a nighean, we’re leaving.”

With that, Mrs. Fitz turned on her heel and stalked away, as if she couldn’t stand to be in the presence of such a depraved lecher for one more second. Jamie sighed to himself. All of Inverness would be hearing about this within the day… no way he could hide Claire from Jenny for long.

A minute later, Claire emerged from the dressing room, clutching the jacket to her chest.

“Jamie, what—?” She started to ask.

But Jamie cut her off by simply taking her hand and tugging her toward the door, his other arm juggling their purchases (which of course he had no bag for since there was no way he’d push his luck asking for one).

Once they were safely outside in the Scottish gloom, Jamie slowed down— realizing he had been dragging the puir lass nearly off her feet in his haste to be gone.

“What—?” She tried to ask again.

“Nothin’ tae fash about, a nighean,” Jamie assured her, “it was only a wee misunderstandin’ wi’ Mrs. Fitz. But hopefully these dresses will do.”

Claire, bless her, tended to take Jamie at his word, and so she didn’t press him for any more details. Quite honestly, her trust in his dismissals of things was a breath of fresh air in contrast to his sister Jenny’s stifling desire to wring every last bit of information from him. He wondered distantly just how long Claire’s innocence on this front would last. But for now she was content to let him take the lead with all things human, and he was happy to take it.

Jamie’s strides were still long and hurried as he brought Claire back toward the car. Thankfully, she was unresisting— she’d probably had enough exploring for one day. Although Jamie knew he hadn’t actually done anything wrong (save going in the dressing room with a fully clothed lass— because she had wings for pete’s sake!), he still felt like a young lad caught with his pants down around his ankles. He wanted to be away from the shop and the talk that surely would be following in their wake.

The stream of thoughts that occupied Jamie’s brain was interrupted by Claire tripping and nearly toppling over onto the cobbles stones.

“Woah, lass,” tumbled from Jamie’s mouth at the same time as the pile of clothes on his arm started to fall to the ground.

With an impressive feat of juggling, he managed to pull Claire upright with one hand and only lose a couple dresses and one pair of shoes with the other.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, letting go of Jamie’s hand so she could stoop down and pick up the fallen items. When she straightened, she pulled at the legs of her sweatpants in frustrated illustration as she said, “I keep tripping over these.”

“Weel, ye needna suffer them any longer, a nighean,” he laughed, and he lifted the shoulder holding the new clothes, “let’s find ye somewhere tae change.”

The “somewhere” Jamie settled on was an old bookshop. It was right across the street, so Jamie simply herded his wee faerie inside, trying to make his armful of items look as discrete and nonchalant as possible.

The bookstore was old and musty. Something about it had a feeling of another time, as if the world stopped the moment you stepped in. The bookshelves were crowded, with only narrow aisles between, and every one was stuffed to the brim with books. The lighting was rather dim, and Jamie had to squint his eyes a bit as he took it all in. Spotting the front desk, he brought Claire over to it.

Attending the shop was a woman nearly the same age as Jamie, with long red hair that cascaded down her narrow shoulders and over a name tag that read “Geillis”. When she looked up at them, he saw that she had the most startling shade of green eyes. Almost like a cat’s, he thought distantly. Something about her prickled the tiny hairs on the back of Jamie’s neck.

But she greeted them quite warmly.

“Good day, how can I be assistin’ ye?” she asked with a bright smile.

“We’re jes’ needin’ a place tae change, do ye have a loo?”

The lass, Geillis, eyed him up and down for a long moment before her gaze flicked to Claire. To his astonishment, the lasses made steady eye contact for a long stretch of time, green meeting whisky, and then she suddenly broke it to smile politely at Jamie.

“Of course,” she said, “we canna have yer hen paradin’ around Inverness in that outfit, can we? It’s on the far side.” She pointed helpfully in the direction.

“Thank ye,” Jamie said, and quickly dragged Claire off.

After seeing her inside the bathroom to change into her white dress and new shoes, Jamie took to perusing the shelves. All the books were old, likely this was a secondhand shop, and mostly titles he didn’t recognize. He became absorbed in the looking, though, so much so that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure appeared beside him.

“Find anythin’ interesting?” Geillis asked.

Jamie quickly composed himself after the fright, and answered, “eh… jes’ lookin’. Quite an assortment of titles ye have here.”

He ran a finger over the spine of one of the books.

“Quite,” she agreed, “I take pride in procuring the selection.”

“Ye own the shop then?” Jamie asked.

A nod in confirmation. “My name’s Geillis Duncan, nice tae meet ye,” she said, extending her hand.

Jamie took it, shaking amicably, and replied, “James Fraser.”

“It appears ye and yer lass have had quite the… adventure…?” She said with raised brows and a glint in her eye.

“Oh, she’s not my—“ but Jamie cut himself off, finding that he didn’t have it in him to deny the thing he so desperately wanted. Instead, he finished lamely, “aye, we have.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what compelled him to admit it, but he suddenly added, “honestly, I’m at a bit of a loss.”

At that moment, the door to the washroom opened, and Claire emerged, clad in her white dress. As she made her way toward them, a book was suddenly shoved into his hand.

He looked down in surprise, and then up at Geillis.

“This one is on me,” she whispered, drawing close to his ear, “read it carefully, fox.”

Bewildered, he didn’t have any reply. And apparently he didn’t need one. Because he had glanced over at Claire, and when he looked back toward Geillis, she was gone.

“Ready?” Claire asked as she reached him.

Jamie shook himself out of his startlement at the shopkeeper's abrupt disappearance and gave Claire a smile.

“Aye, lass.”

Hand in hand again, they walked out of the shop, the book Geillis had given him still tucked under his arm.

#all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction

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dissident-vedder · 4 years ago

Text

- the christmas miracle ( 𝐒.𝐆. )

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST!

character a vows to do something nice for a stranger during christmas time. character b is that stranger.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs! prompt by @fanficy-prompts

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

tears pricked at the back of your eyes. here you were, two weeks away from christmas, and still no presents, no decorations, and very little food to even last this week. nina, your six-year-old daughter, kept asking about why christmas hasn’t come yet to your house, but how were you gonna tell her that you were struggling to buy food alone? it seemed like everyone in your apartment building knew of your financial status. they eyed you sadly as you walked down the hallways, making your way to work your one of two jobs, dark undereye bags staining the once skin-toned flesh, nina constantly wondering why you were working and no longer spending time with her as much as you used to.

“i’m here to pick up nina,” you told him. “i’m her mom, mrs. gossard takes care of her in the afternoons.”

“oh!” he smiles at you, “you’re ms. [y/l/n], right?”

“yes, i am!” you smile back.

“come in, she got tired and is taking a nap in the living room,” he opens the door, stepping aside to let you walk in, taking in the pastel pink walls and white wicker furniture. “i’m stone, by the way. i’m mary’s son.”

“you’re the one she always talks about!” you brightly smile at him, causing him to blush lightly, sheepishly bowing his head. “she’s really proud of you, you know.”

“she’s always like that with her children,” stone laughs lightly, scratching the back of his neck. the pale color of his skin complimented his eyes, making them appear brighter in the white light of his mother’s living room.

“mama?” nina’s soft voice called from the couch. her small fist rubbed roughly against her eyelids, rubbing the sleep out of them as she pushed her upper body up to a sitting position. “hi,” you replied tenderly, making your way to her, her arms stretching out to allow you to pick her up easily. she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist, burying her head into the side of your neck, sighing gingerly, taking in the scent of the perfume you always wore. you turned back to stone, “is your mom home?” you pulled a small wad of money from your pocket, wanting to pay her for taking care of nina for however long she has been taking care of her for. “i’d like to give her this.” you pushed it towards stone, who gently put his hand over yours, pushing it back towards you.

“my mom won’t take your money,” he smiled delicately. “she understands, don’t worry about it.”

“but -”

“no buts,” he shook his head, making his way into the kitchen, picking up the platter from the counter. “she also wanted me to give you this, if you came over while she was at her doctor’s appointment.”

“thank you,” you freed one of your hands from nina, planning to take the glassware from him.

“no,” he puts it back down on the counter again, hands outstretched to take nina. “i’ll help you take it home.” he smiles softly again. swapping nina for the pie plate, moving towards the door, eyeing nina as she rested her head on stone’s shoulder. her faint snores restarted, causing the man’s heart to slowly turn to mush as he rested his cheek on her head. your heart swelled, opening the door to his mom’s apartment. nina’s estranged father was never in the picture, and seeing a strange man cuddle her softly to his chest as he helped you really brought both sadness and want into your heart.

you wanted nina to experience what having a father was like, but you barely had time for her, let alone another person. you walk to your apartment in silence, fearful that nina would wake up from her nap if you were too loud for her liking; she was always a light sleeper, something she gained from her dad, who was always sleeping with one eye open. you always wondered why, seeing that the neighborhood the two of you lived in was relatively safe.

most of seattle was.

taking your key and unlocking your door, you lead stone to nina’s room, the princess themed bedspread thrown haphazardly across her bed, a few barbies and kens laying about the floor in front of her dresser. he gingerly placed her down, unbuckling her jeans and pulling them down her legs before moving the bedspread to cover her up to her chin. you smiled at the sight before going to the kitchen, placing down the pie plate on the counter next to your stove. the sound of heavy steps alerted you of his presence, “i have to go, it’s almost the end of my mom’s appointment and i had to drive her down there.”

“alright,” you told him. “thank you for helping me with nina, i appreciate it.”

“no problem, it was a nice break from the music business,” he beams, chuckling a little. “well, hopefully i’ll see you later!” he waves at you before walking away, opening the door to your apartment.

“hopefully,” you hugged your arms around yourself.

you had noticed a piece of paper on nina’s nighttable, and upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was stone’s phone number with a messily scrawled, “call me :).”

you did, the next day, and since then the two of you spoke and laughed at his jokes, him telling you stories of his childhood, his adventures across the world, the stress of being in a famous band. you feared telling him of your financial struggles and the struggle of trying to make enough money to get nina some presents. however, what you did not know, was that mary had told him of your problems and his plan to help you out with it.

it was the night of christmas eve, and nina had fallen asleep after throwing a small crying fit, wondering how 1. santa was going to be able to come to your home since it was in an apartment building (this was an ongoing thing for the past three years) and 2. why the christmas tree still wasn’t up. “he’s not going to come here if he can’t see the tree!” she cried, letting you hold her close, rubbing the back of her head as you calmed her down.

sitting in your living room with a book on your lap, your heart continued to beat wildly against your chest. you bought her very few things, most of which were small and it would make her a little disappointed, and at the same time break you heart as she would go back to school and talk about how the other kids got bigger and better things.

a small knock on your door caused you to freeze, eyes wide as you thought of what could happen. a burglar waiting for you to be dumb and open the door? mary coming over to bring some food? all bad thoughts crossed your mind until you heard, “it’s stone!” coming from the outside.

what was stone doing here at. . . you glanced at the clock in the kitchen, 4 in the morning? you put down the book, upside down as to keep your spot, and made your way to the door, still confused at why he was here. you unlocked the door and when you saw the christmas tree box - amongst other things - sitting at his feet, you gasped. “what is this, stone?”

“it’s for you and nina,” he smiled. “now, come on, it’s cold.” the two of you laughed, taking the time to pick up the boxes and transferring them into the warmth of your apartment, and as each box came in, you noticed that a few were already wrapped and ready to be placed under the christmas tree, one of which was wrapped in a different paper than the others. stone noticed you looking at it. “it’s for you.”

it took the two of you half an hour to put up the tree and place the presents underneath, and once it was done, you were able to fall asleep peacefully, you and stone passing out on the cushions of your sofa. “mama!” nina’s cries pierced through the thick veils of sleep and woke you and stone up. “santa came!” you peered at her through your eyelashes, seeing her angelic face brighten up as she saw the many presents placed at the bottom of the lit tree.

“open them,” you insisted, trying to sit up with some difficulty, soon noticing stone’s head resting against your stomach, arms wrapped lazily around your middle. you haven’t seen her this happy, you noted, hand making its way into stone’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp. he hums softly, watching the girl tear through the first box, a high-pitched squeal leaving her lips as she realizes it’s the victorian purple barbie house she’s been pestering you for months and something you complained to stone about.

“nina,” you caught her attention, “can you give me that box, please? it has my name on it.” you caught the neatly scrawled [y/n] on the top. she snatches up from the floor, running over to you, placing it in your outstretched hand before going back to her own. “what is this, stone?”

“open it,” he nods to it.

you tear the paper, letting the pieces drop to the floor, seeing a flat velvet box come into view. written on top of it was ‘gucci’. opening it, an aged gold butterfly necklace stares back at you from the confines of the white cardboard interior, and peaking from behind it, a gold-colored debit card sat. “it currently has a few thousand dollars in it,” stone informs you. “and it’s attached to my bank acount, as well, so now you and nina are dependents.”

“stone, i can’t take this,” you begin to protest.

“why not?” he picked himself up from your stomach, glacing at you from above. “it’s my money and i get to choose what i want to do with it. and i want to help you and nina. there’s only one condition.”

“and what’s that?”

taking a short glance towards your daughter, who was too busy tearing open the last few of her presents, he lowers himself against you, face turning towards yours before he presses his lips softly on yours. “just be my girlfriend. that’s all i ask.”

you nod. “always.”

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder @state-of-love-and-lust @honeysympathy

#pearl jam #stone gossard #stone gossard wallpaper #stone gossard x reader #stone gossard smut #stone gossard imagine

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isitgintimeyet · 5 years ago

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Road To The Aisles

AO3

Thanks for your patience as we get to the end of this story, couple more chapters to go and I’m hitting some serious writer’s block. I’m getting there, but slowly!!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve, @mo-nighean-rouge for their support.

23. A Hectic Enterprise

Phoebe: (her mobile phone rings) Oh, it's my wedding planner. She's driving me crazy! (she answers) Hello... Hey, ok, stop screaming! Ok? So, halibut. All right, so salmon, either way. I don't-I don't... it doesn't matter to me!

Friends

Claire was roused from sleep by a persistent squeaking close to her left ear. Opening one eye, she was greeted by a big grin from William, his hedgehog firmly clasped in his fist. An aroma of dirty nappy filled the air.

“Morning, precious,” Claire said croakily.

William babbled in delight and pushed the hedgehog even closer to her ear.

“Not so close, lovie.” Claire sniffed. “Jamie, someone ‘round here needs a clean bottom…. and what time is it? I can’t be late. We have so much to do. I’m meant to be meeting Mrs. Crook… and the caterers… and the florist is coming. And we have the rehearsal this afternoon at the church, so Geillis and Dougal need to have arrived before then —“

“Dinna fash. It’s no’ even seven yet.” Jamie stopped rifling through a suitcase and turned around to face Claire. “I heard William stirring and jes’ thought I’d bring him in tae say hello before getting him cleaned up. I ken we’ve a lot tae do.”

William suddenly launched himself forward from his sitting position onto Claire’s chest. Laughing, Claire brought her arms around to cuddle the baby. Jamie stood still for a moment, just watching as she rolled William onto his back and began tickling him. William erupted into fits of helpless chuckles. Jamie put down the nappy cream and moved back to bed. What difference would five minutes make?

Jamie lay down on top of the covers and joined in, gently biting William’s toes through the fleecy sleepsuit. His eyes met Claire’s as a wave of pure joy washed over him.

“I canna wait fer tomorrow,” he whispered.

“Me neither.”

“Dadadada,” William babbled as he rolled back towards Claire and grabbed a handful of her curls.

“Hear that?” Jamie spoke proudly. “He said dada, he called me dada.”

“I think you’ll find he actually called me dada. But we can be working on it… together.”

*******

By the time Claire had showered and dressed, Mrs Crook had arrived and was busy feeding William his porridge. The baby smacked his lips greedily between mouthfuls, trying to grab the spoon from Mrs. Crook’s hand.

“He certainly likes his food,” Mrs.Crook said as Claire planted a kiss on her cheek. “Jes’ like his da.”

Claire poured herself a cup of tea and joined them at the table. “Where is his father?”

“Och, we dinna ken, do we, ma wee puddin’?”

Spooning the dregs of the porridge into William’s mouth, Mrs. Crook then handed him the spoon.

“Jamie went out a few minutes ago wi’ Brian. They didna say where.”

Having discovered the spoon contained no more food, William pushed his bottom lip out in a sulk. His mood was lightened somewhat as he discovered the tympanic qualities of the spoon, enthusiastically banging it on the tray of the high chair.

“You are a noisy little tyke, aren’t you?”

“Dadadada”

“Oh William, you have to remember. Say that when your da is actually here,”

Claire lifted William out of the high chair, still tightly clutching his spoon.

“Did ye take a wee keek at the marquee when ye arrived?”

“No, it was dark by the time we got here. Let me just get a jacket on William and then why don’t we both go and have a look?”

**********************

Claire hitched William more securely on her hip and looked around the marquee… the cavernous marquee… the cavernous, unfinished marquee. Stacks of chairs were stored in one corner, tables in another. Several large hampers had been dumped on top of a makeshift platform. The structural steel poles stood grey and unadorned. Claire turned to Mrs. Crook, dismay clearly etched on her face.

“It’s nowhere near ready, Mrs. C, is it?”

“Ah, dinna fash, Claire. They’re on the way now. Ye’ll see, by this evening, ye willna be able tae recognise the place. Trust me, I’ve seen this every year wi’ the Hallowe’en party. It’ll be grand. I’ll be away and wait fer them in the yard.”

After Mrs. Crook had left, Claire wandered around trying, and failing, to imagine the finished decor. She had faith in the event planners, up to a point, but this seemed too much even for them.

“Yoohoo.”

Geillis appeared from behind a stack of chairs and looked around. “I like what ye’ve done with the place. Kind of workhouse chic meets brutal minimalism.”

She kissed Claire’s cheek and ruffled William’s hair.

“Geillis! We weren’t expecting you until later. How early did you get up? And where’s Dougal?”

“Och, he’s faffing about with the car, trying to park it so it doesna get scratched by any of yer comings and goings. And, for yer information, we drove up yesterday,” she unstacked a chair, placed it in the middle of the floor and sat down.

“Weel, I was sae inspired by yer Jenny’s story the other week. Ye ken, the one about the highland warrior and the serving wench. We decided tae drive up yesterday, find a wee glen and try it fer ourselves.”

“It worked a treat,” Geillis winked. “And—“

“Hello, ye in here?”

To Claire’s relief, Geillis immediately halted her, no doubt overly detailed, story as Dougal sauntered into the marquee. Whilst not quite as tall or as broad as Jamie, and at least twenty years older, Claire recognised there was a certain tough quality about him. He would definitely have made a good warrior, fighting the redcoats.

“Morning, Claire,” Dougal pecked her cheek. “And who do we have here?”

He scooped William out of Claire’s arms. She glanced across at Geillis, who gave a small uncertain smile.

William looked momentarily surprised by this stranger but relaxed against his shoulder.

“Da—“ he began.

Claire shot him a warning look. “What have I said, William? Save that for your da.”

William put his thumb in his mouth and proceeded to tap the spoon he was still holding against the side of Dougal’s head.

“William, no! Sorry, Dougal.”

To the baby’s disgust, Claire prised the spoon from his tightly clenched fist. He let out a wail of dissatisfaction, only quietening as he heard his father’s voice coming into the marquee.

“Ah, Geillis, Dougal. Good tae see ye. Fancy a coffee? Ma sister and her family have jes’ arrived too.”

Jamie took the fidgeting baby from Dougal as they walked back to the house.

“Are you not worried about the state of the marquee?” Claire whispered to Jamie.

“Och, no. It’ll be fine. I saw the vans pulling up as I came in. Trust me, Sassenach. Ye’ll see.”

**************

The old stone church had been the focus of Fraser family worship for many generations, as various plaques and stone engravings bore testament to, and was an intrinsic part of Jamie’s memories. It was here that he had been christened. Although that was obviously not one of his memories, he still cherished the photograph taken by the font of himself in his father’s arms while his mother wrangled an unhappy toddler Jenny. It was here that Jenny married Ian, and her children were christened, too. And in less happy times, it was here that his mother had been lain to rest.

So, it had always been important for him to marry here. When Claire had willingly suggested Lallybroch as their wedding venue, he had been both thrilled and touched by her enthusiasm for his family home and traditions. He tried not to think about the possible battle looming over any suggestion of William being christened here.

The priest greeted them in the doorway and escorted them down the aisle towards the altar, explaining the order of service and their roles tomorrow. A noise in the porch indicated the arrival of Ian, Geillis, Jenny and Wee Jamie.

“Da and Murtagh are looking after Maggie and William.” Jenny explained.

“Aye, and Dougal offered to help them.” Geillis added with an exaggerated eye roll.

Wee Jamie pulled on his mother’s hand and whispered loudly. “Where are all the people, ye ken? The people what watch us. There’s no-one sitting on the benches.”

Jenny pursed her lips in an effort not to laugh. “This isna the wedding, Jamie. It’s a rehearsal, a practice fer tomorrow, so ye all ken what tae do.”

Wee Jamie breathed a loud sigh of relief. “That’s good ‘cos I havena got the rings, nor ma kilt.”

Jamie felt the butterflies building in his stomach as the priest positioned himself and Ian at the front and then instructed Claire, Geillis and his nephew on walking formally down the aisle. Jenny hovered, anxious for Wee Jamie, but she had no need for worry. Her son strode down the aisle in front of Claire, his tongue peeking out from between his lips in concentration as he held his arms in front of his body, pretending to hold a cushion.

Jamie watched as Claire approached with measured paces, the only sounds being the footsteps on the hard floor tiles. He found himself holding his breath as she drew closer, until…

“Oh, poo,” Wee Jamie said in a loud voice, the word echoing around the stone walls. “I forget which way tae go now.”

“Sorry, Father.” Jenny quickly apologised. “Jamie, apologise to Father Michael for saying that word.”

“Sorry, Father,” Wee Jamie repeated. “But we say it all the time at home, Da sings a song about poo tae Maggie. He says it’s no’ a bad word.”

Jenny glared at her son as Jamie and Ian dissolved into fits of laughter. “Aye, it’s no’ swearing but we dinna say it in the kirk, OK?”

“Weel, I think we’re about done now fer today. We all ken what we’ve tae do, and,” the priest looked hard at Wee Jamie. “And what we’ve no’ tae do tomorrow.”

**************

The sun was beginning to set as they made their way back to Lallybroch. Mrs. Crook had already left for the day, with plans for a ‘shampoo and set’ at the local hairdressers before a good night’s sleep.

Despite an invitation for Geillis and Dougal to join them for a family dinner, Geillis graciously declined. Claire wasn’t sure if Geillis was worried about the proximity of so many babies and small children giving Dougal more paternal thoughts, or if Geillis had some thoughts of her own of a less pure nature to share with Dougal. With a promise of an early return to Lallybroch, Claire bade farewell to the couple.

Jamie had momentarily disappeared. Claire supposed he was keen to reclaim his son from Brian and Murtagh. She turned and walked across the gravel forecourt to the kitchen door. A whistle made her turn around. Jamie stood on the makeshift path leading to the marquee.

“Fancy a quick keek at it now?” He asked.

“Or maybe I should wait ‘til they’ve finished in the morning. I don’t want to be thinking about it’s unfinished state tonight.”

“Oh, come on. A quick look.”

He held out his hand and led her into the marquee.

Jamie had obviously crept in and switched on a couple of lights on the small platform stage. Claire looked around in amazement. Though dimly lit, the transformation from that morning was clear. In front of the stage, a dance floor had been laid. The circular tables were in place, each adorned with a pristine white tablecloth and gauzy russet runner. A posy vase in the centre of each table stood ready for the simple sprigs of autumn leaves and berries to be added. The chairs reflected the colour scheme with white covers and russet bows.

One corner of the marquee was occupied by a bar, not yet stocked. Empty pedestals were scattered around, waiting for the florist’s artistry the following morning. The steel poles were now elegantly covered in white and russet fabric entwined with fairy lights.

“Still worried about this place?” Jamie asked.

Claire shook her head. “No, it’s going to look magical.”

“I kent it would, jes’ needs the finishing touches in the morning.”

They stood quietly for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Claire stood on tip toes and kissed Jamie’s cheek, his bristles rough against her lips.

“What was that fer?”

“Oh, this… you… William… your family… everything.”

“Nae regrets? Even after all that’s happened this year?”

“Not a single one.”

Jamie stooped and returned the kiss.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. I love ye.”

Back outside, Claire turned towards the house. Jamie gently pulled her in the opposite direction.

“Oh, do you not want to get back to William?” Claire enquired.

“Och, William will be fine fer a wee while longer. He’ll be having a grand time wi’ Da and Murtagh. No, seeing as how ye are banishing me from yer bed tonight and I canna see ye ‘til the kirk, I jes’ wanted a few minutes alone wi’ ye.”

Jamie stopped in a corner of the garden. “Remember this place, Sassenach ? Nearly this time last year?”

“The Hallowe’en party. Of course, We escaped up here to watch the fireworks. You were Harry Potter.”

“Aye and ye were the sexiest witch I’d ever seen…that dress and those stockings... wi’ yer skin all pale and glowing in the moonlight. When I laid ye down on the blanket and ye opened herself tae me and I could hear yer moans and sighs, weel, I kent then that ye were mine fer always… and I was yers.”

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to hers. She kissed him gently before parting his lips with her tongue, lightly caressing his mouth. Jamie responded eagerly, tongues entwining, bodies pressed tightly together. He could feel Claire’s moans catch in her throat. He traced a path of kisses from her mouth to that sweet spot behind her ear…

“Jamie… Claire… are ye there? Da says d’ye fancy a wee nip afore dinner? And Murtagh says he canna face another dirty nappy, sae ye’re going tae have tae see tae yer son… right now.” Jenny called from the bottom of the path.

Jamie and Claire broke apart.

“We’d better go in then.”

“Christ, woman, what have ye done tae me?” Jamie panted. “Ye’ve got me all riled up… let me wait a moment until I’m… weel, er, more composed.”

Claire laughed. “Sorry. But can you believe that was only a year ago? So much has happened, so many changes… William, living together, now marriage.”

“But there’s one thing that hasna changed, Sassenach. And that’s how much I love ye. So, Mrs Soon-tae-be-Fraser, shall we join the family?”

“Yes, Jamie, I’d love to. Let’s join our family.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fan fic #Road To The Aisles #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 23

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eirian-houpe · 4 years ago

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All Our Past Mistakes - Chapter 9

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 9 - Jigsaw

Gold couldn’t help but notice that he and Belle worked like a team, as though they had been doing this their whole lives. While he ran the bath for Bae, Belle made a start stripping the wet bedclothes from the boy’s bed.

He heard her descend the stairs, no doubt taking the soiled sheets to the washing machine, confirmed a moment later when he began to hear the hum of the motor as the sheets began to wash.

They switched then, and he smiled as Belle came in to watch over Bae in the tub while he retrieved clean sheets and blankets from the linen closet, made up Bae’s bed and picked out two sets of pajamas.

By the time he returned to the bathroom, Belle already had his son out of the bath, wrapped in a towel and she was rubbing him dry. It was seamless, and it made his heart clench.

“Here’s Papa,” Belle said softly, and he smiled at both of them as Bae looked up at him.

“Hey, little man,” Gold greeted him, and then held up the pajamas one set in each hand. “Dinosaurs, or big cats?”

“Dinosaurs!” Bae cried out happily, pointing at the bundle of decorated cotton in Gold’s left hand.

He chuckled. “Dinosaurs it is.”

“All dry here,” Belle announced, and Gold’s still clenched heart melted as she planted a swift kiss on the side of Bae’s head, before gently easing him in his direction, emptying and rinsing the tub while he helped Bae into the dinosaur pajamas. They were ready at the same time. Everything they did just fit together like pieces of a puzzle and it wasn’t long before they were snuggling Bae back down into bed, one of them on each side.

Bastion yawned almost as soon as they tucked the covers around him, sleepily demanding the promised story. “Whipperty Stourie,” he murmured.

Gold chuckled, and glancing at Belle before turning his attention back to his son, began the story, allowing his voice to soften, and his accent to come to the fore.

“Once, there wa’ a gentleman lived in a fine, fine house,” he began, his voice rising and falling in a sing song way.

“And he married a beautiful lady,” Bae asked and answered, both at the same time.

“Aye, son,” Gold confirmed, “He marriet a pretty wee lassie, as was delicately raised. In her husband’s house she found everything to be fine… fine tables an’ chairs, fine glasses, and fine curtains, but… her husband expected her to spin twelve hanks o’ thread each day, and’ truth be… she couldnae spin a bit!”

“Oh no!” Belle gasped softly, as she ran her fingers through Bae’s hair. “What happened?”

“Husband went…” Bae whispered, beginning to sound sleepy.

“One day, aye, he gaed awa’ fr’a journey,” he all but sang, his tone softer yet. “But he telt her that by his return, he expected she’d ha’ spun a hundret hanks ‘o thread.”

“And she was sad,” Bae offered, eyes closed and breathing starting to slow, to even out… on the edge of sleep.

“I bet she was,” Belle agreed, and Gold looked up and gave her a sad smile.

“She took a walk along the hillside, till she cam’ tae a big flat stane, and there she sat down and grat. By and by she heard a strain o’ fine sma’ music, coming as it were frae aneath the stane, and, on turning it up, she saw a cave below, where there were sitting six wee ladies in green gowns, ilk ane o’ them spinning on a little wheel, and singing,”

“Little kens my dame at hame That Whippety Stourie is my name.”

By the time he finished the rhyme, Gold’s voice was a whisper, and Bae was fully asleep, and unable to help himself Gold reached over and took Belle’s hand

“Thank you, Belle,” he said just as softly. “I… I could… I could never believe it could be like this.”

He saw her brown draw down, and her nose wrinkle adorably in confusion. “Like what?”

“Caring… for Bastion… with someone… else.” He stammered.

“Your wife—?”

He cut her off with a shake of his head. “She never cared to do anything together where Bae was concerned. “Complained that she had him the whole day long, and that when we were home, he was my responsibility.”

She sighed, and squeezed the fingers of his hand, that still held hers.

“You’re a good father, Sabrael,” she told him softly, and then tugging on his arm to encourage him to stand as she stood, added, “You’re tired and hungry. He’ll sleep now, I’m sure of it. So, let’s head downstairs, and have this beautiful meal you brought home.”

Belle was very aware of Gold as he moved around the kitchen, warming plates, reheating the food - and Gold refused to use the microwave in favor of using the oven to slowly reheat the meal - opening a bottle of expensive looking wine, and refusing to let her lift a finger to help. Instead, he insisted that she sit at the kitchen table while he did everything.

“You’ve done enough,” he told her with the gentle brush of his fingertips against her cheek. “More than enough.”

She felt the touch flow through her, wakening her to his nearness; wakening her to a want to be closer still; to continue from where they had been interrupted and let the tides sweep them both away.

“Belle?”

She blinked, realizing belatedly that he had been talking to her, and she hadn’t answered.

“Sorry, I…” she trailed off, biting her lip.

“I’ve asked too much,” he said at once. “You’re tired of course you are, I—”

“I was just… thinking,” she told him, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. “About before.”

“Before?” His confusion sounded genuine, rather than the adolescent teasing she was used to, which of course made sense because he wasn’t some fumbling idiot. He was a grown man, mature and sophisticated… experienced.

“Before Bastion came downstairs,” she said by way of explanation, and felt herself blush even more.

Gold sighed.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, “It was wrong of me to take advan—”

“You were not taking advantage,” she spoke so adamantly that Gold took a step back. His sudden movement startled her, and a part of her wondered at the cause of it - beyond her own actions - so when she continued, she spoke more softly, moved more slowly, reaching for his hands, which he gave into hers hesitantly.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” she said. “Everything I said then still applies. I’m a grown woman.” She sighed then, looking into the doubt she still saw in his eyes. She squeezed his hands. “Sabrael, I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t let anyone else decide my fate. What I allow to happen, happens because it’s what I want.”

“Gaston?” he asked softly. Belle hesitated, and then nodded.

“So,” she said softly, “You didn’t and you aren’t taking advantage if it’s something I want.”

He gently pulled his hands from hers then, and took her by the upper arms to draw her nearer. It was what she wanted and yet still she felt as though she were trembling like a windblown sapling’s new spring leaves. She leaned against him as he took her in his arms, her palms flat against his chest, sliding upward to rest against the front of his shoulders.

“It’s what I want too,” he said, and his voice was deep, almost hoarse.

She drew in a breath, and it smelled and tasted of him; woody and spicy with a smooth caramel bite and she pressed closer as she felt his fingers slide into the back of her hair, gently teasing at her scalp.

She tipped her head up to bring her mouth within a breath of his, lips tingling as before, anticipating the remembered softness as their breath mingled. Her lips softened beneath his as his mouth took hers, gently at first, slowly, coaxing. The tenderness of his kiss sent a welcome wave of weakness through her limbs ahead of a tsunami of heat that lodged in her belly and turned her to liquid fire.

Her fingers gripped the front of his shirt and she opened to him as the kiss deepened, his tongue possessing her mouth, tangling with hers as she stroked his in turn.

The two of them turned and shuffled the few steps across the kitchen, and she felt her back pressed against counter with the heat and the hardness of him tight against her belly. She moaned softly into the kiss, already breathless but uncaring, allowing the light headed tingling to mix with the flood of her own desire as she released the fabric of his shirt enough to slide her fingers against the buttons holding it fastened shut.

One button, two, the brush of skin against her fingertips and—

A sharp, insistent bleeping sounded from somewhere beside them, breaking the moment, and Gold pulled back from the kiss as breathless as she.

Their foreheads touched and Belle, although frustrated, saw then felt the humor in the moment and chuckled breathlessly, just as Gold did the same.

#Rumbelle #au #angst #non cursed storybrooke #student/teacher relationship #child neglect #implied past non-con #extra marital affair #all our past mistakes

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Starting Over Chapter 1 ~The Birthday Party~

James Fraser peered through his front windshield into the sunlight and wished he was back in his apartment in Edinburgh. If his older sister Jenny hadn't called earlier to drag him out of his blissful, mind-numbing slumber and reminded him of his nephew's birthday, he would have been still in bed. Instead of his usual routine of sleeping until past midday, eating junk food and washing it down with beer, playing Xbox and going back to sleep, he'd found himself putting on some fresh clothes and driving to Lallybroch. His sudden motivation had more to do with his nephew, wee Jamie. He wouldn't miss his birthday for the world, come rain or shine. Unfortunately, sunshine and children's parties seldom bode well for his mood while nursing a massive hangover.

It had been three months since he was last in Lallybroch - three months of avoiding his family and dodging questions about his future. He knew he'd hit his limit for grieving the untimely death of his career and feeling sorry for himself. It was time to face the world of adulting, and it was time for a change. But what change? A job in the Fraser distillery? It was his legacy and fallback plan, after all.

But he didn't need the money, and his brother-in-law, Ian Murray, was more than capable of overseeing its running. He considered going away to take an extended sabbatical and figure out what he wanted to do with life.

Not too long ago, he had been the nation's sports phenomenon until his sterling rugby career was prematurely cut short by a neck injury sustained during a Six Nations game against France. Later, it was discovered that he had a triple fracture of the vertebrae. Although he avoided any serious nerve damage and had worked with the best therapist in the country in an attempt to get back on the field, he'd been advised by his doctor and friend, Joe Abernathy to retire.

See it this way - you could have ended up in a wheelchair. Count your blessings, Jamie. You're still young, you have a fat bank account from your time in rugby and sponsorships, and the future is full of possibilities. How about going back to your roots? Like your family's distillery?

Jamie pushed himself out of his black BMW SUV with an annoyed grunt and grabbed the toy bicycle from the back seat of the car. He could hear the loud, shrill screams of children and smell burger meat grilling on the BBQ. Tugging on the collar of his T-shirt, he grimaced at the perspiration running down his back. It was a warm day, and already a headache was starting to grow. From his vantage point, he could see the flowers in the front of the manor house in full bloom and the path leading to the rear garden where the party was being held. Colourful birthday buntings were hung, and balloons decorated posts and hedges. Whether he wanted to be surrounded by people at that moment or not, coming home always hit him with a sense of nostalgia for a time when life was less complicated.

Tamping down the sudden urge to turn around and walk away, he thought of his wee nephew and kept moving. He wondered what kind of reception he would receive now that his identity had been stripped away. He'd always been a rugby player and the game ran in his veins. However, it appeared that the end of his career seemed to have cast a shadow over his every interaction. Ever since he retired, the topic of rugby had been delicately avoided anywhere he went. He thought if someone asked him about the weather or complimented on how good he looks one more time, he was going to implode.

Is this how it's going to be from now on? Pretending as though ten years of his rugby career never happened? What was the point of all the hard work then?

Jamie came to a stop when he reached the back of the house and took in the scene before him. A few adults were clustered around the makeshift buffet, and some congregated around the BBQ. There were probably around twenty children surrounding an entertainer who was dressed as a cartoon character from Paw Patrol. Conscious of his damp shirt sticking to him, he felt sorry for whoever was in the mascot outfit on this sweltering day. Somehow it made the state of his mood, and the complexity of his life seemed insignificant compared to the person earning a living dressed as a dog. Disgusted with his wallowing and despondency, he pulled himself together and took in a huge fortifying breath and braced himself.

"Uncle Jamie! Uncle Jamie! Ye're here!"

Jamie's gaze landed on the small figure hurtling towards him, hands flapping in the air. Putting the toy bike on the ground, he crouched down and grinned, opening his arms to catch his nephew. His lousy mood and discomfort dissipated all at once. " A chuilein ," he breathed, gripping the boy's small frame and lifting him in the air. He smelled of lollies, vanilla buttercream and baby sweat.

Wee Jamie squealed with delight as he was spun around. "I knew ye'd come, uncle! Ma said ye have lots and lots to do." As soon as he was released, he eyed the shiny red bike and let out a gasp. "Is that my pressie, uncle?"

He laughed. "Aye, that it is. Want to try it?"

"Ma! Look what I got from uncle Jamie!" his namesake shouted at the top of his lungs as he excitedly got on the bike.

Jamie watched his nephew pedal towards his mother to show off his latest acquisition.

Jenny turned, smiled and then she was coming towards him.

"Aah, the prodigal son is back home." Her face was flushed with heat, and her expression showed relief. He had been expecting reproof or anything of that sort. But his sister seemed genuinely happy to see him.

Guilt prickled his nerves. "Jenny ...can we talk?"

"Not now lad. We have plenty of time for that later. I'm just glad ye could make it." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek and stood back to get a better look at him, a platter dangling in one hand. "I need to get more buns in the kitchen. Can ye sort out the lass in the mascot costume for me? My purse is upstairs," she explained, jerking a thumb towards the children's entertainer.

"Aye, of course, I'll do that." There was a squeeze in his chest at the prospect of facing his whole family and explaining his disappearance. He knew it had to be done, and it was only a matter of time.

..........

What have I gotten myself into? Argh, Geillis you owe me big time!

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp rolled on her back in the grass, gasping for air as half a dozen five-year-olds piled on top of her. The impact of hyper and sugar-high children nearly dislodged her mask. She wished she was dressed as a clown or some other cartoon character instead, and one that didn't require her to put on such a weighty headgear. Alas, the birthday boy was a Paw Patrol fan.

Under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed the company of children, but she felt like dying from heat and exhaustion. Sweat trickled down the nape of her neck, and the fusty smell of her mascot headgear was making her nauseous. Without looking at the mirror, she knew her hair was an untamed mass of frizz thanks to the humidity.

Surprisingly, she hadn't collapsed from fatigue after her back to back shift at the hospital. She had been up all night when she was called into trauma surgery during an emergency. Despite having very little sleep and her body crying out for a much-needed rest, she couldn't back out on her promise to help her best friend, Geillis.

Geillis had just started her own business in children's party entertainment. The venture was still at its early stages, and because she was double-booked that day and didn't have enough money yet to hire extra staff, she had pleaded to help her do the Paw Patrol gig in Lallybroch.

How could she say no? Claire was already guilt-ridden for the many times she had cancelled on their night outs. These days her life revolved around her job at the hospital, planning her wedding and Frank. It was the least she could do for her neglected friend and social life.

"Who's hungry?" a voice shouted from the designated BBQ area. "Burgers, hotdogs and chips are ready!"

Instantly she was relieved from the weight of tiny bodies holding her down. Sitting up, she adjusted her mask as the children abandoned her for food.

"Um, Geillis?" She looked up. It was Jenny Fraser, the mother of the birthday boy. Claire hadn't bothered correcting her and elaborating that she was a stand-in for her friend. After all, this was just one-off and favour for Geillis.

"Yes?"

"Listen, the other children's entertainer is here already, and the bairns are eating. I believe yer two hours are up. D'ye mind collecting yer fees from my brother? He's just arrived and..." Jenny shrugged, looking down at the empty platter she was holding. "...as ye can see my hands are full at the moment."

She stood up, and through the eyeholes of the dog mask, she glanced at the newcomer.

Aah, bloody hell, it's James Fraser. The Highland's homegrown hero is back. She wondered how she failed to make the connection. She was in Lallybroch, the childhood home of Scotland's rugby best and finest centre.

"Ah, of course, I don't mind."

Jenny gave her a grateful look and smiled. "And thank ye. I ken it's nae job for the faint-hearted keeping the wee bairns entertained especially on a hot day like this. Ye must be shattered. Not to worry, though, I promise to give a good review online for yer new business."

She bobbed her big doggie head and watched Jenny turn and approach her brother before disappearing into the house.

After all these years, the sight of James Fraser could still make her heart kick into a gallop and the moisture in her mouth dry right up. What is it about this man that turned her into a lovesick teenager just by looking at him?

Easy now, Beauchamp. You're as good as married. Remember Frank? The weight of the three-carat diamond engagement ring on her finger served as a reminder. Think Frank! Frank! Frank! Frank! But her head refused to obey, and she continued to stare.

The first and only time she exchanged words with James Fraser, he was half-naked in the men's locker room being treated for a hamstring injury during a game. Her friend, Joe Abernathy, was a Tournament Medical Manager for the team, and through him, she had been there to assist for her own selfish reason - to see a live rugby match, up-close. It hadn't been difficult for Joe to get her in since she was an intern from the Royal Infirmary Hospital, and was more than qualified to assist.

She remembered only too well when she came face to face with the famous rugby player. He had been cocky as sin when she was caught staring awestruck instead of preparing the ice pack for his thigh. How could she not stare? Given his considerable height and athletic frame, he was one fine specimen of a man, gorgeous and bursting with character.

"Like what ye see, love?" he asked in amusement, flexing his pecs to tease her.

Mortified at being called out, she felt the heat creep up her neck. Not one to be intimidated by the display of cheek, she swallowed her embarrassment and tilted her chin at him. "To be honest, I've seen better. Robbie Henshaw is more my type," she retorted, referring to another rugby player.

A ruddy eyebrow shot up. "A sassenach that fancies an Irish charm! Weel, that's funny. I had a feeling ye like looking at my arse."

Ooh, the arrogance! "Sorry to give you the wrong impression Mr Fraser but, I thought I was looking at your face." Joe's snort and Jamie's frown sent her backing away to get the ice before he could respond. But by the time she returned, he was already surrounded by his manager and other paramedical crew, her presence and their exchange soon to be forgotten. It didn't come as a surprise since, in the grand scheme of things, she was just one of a myriad of faces he came across daily.

Later on, Joe teased her regarding the chaffing rejoinder she had launched at Jamie. "You should have seen his face after that comeback you did back there?"

"Sorry?"

"Come on, LJ ...stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. I saw sparks flying." LJ stood for Lady Jane, a nickname Joe had given her during her first year of internship at the Royal Infirmary Hospital. It all began when their mutual friends made fun of her voice, and posh English accent, jokingly pointing out that she sounded like she just had tea with the queen. The moniker remained ever since.

"Sparks? You must have mistaken it for my short fuse firing off."

Joe boomed with laughter as he walked away. "You definitely like the man ...no use denying it. Your mouth may be saying one thing, but your face tells another story."

"I most certainly do not!"

"Oh, and LJ?" Joe paused and turned around, ignoring her vehement denial.

"Yeah?"

"Don't believe everything you read in the newspaper about Jamie. Most are just tabloid nonsense."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Yes, it's true she had a crush on James Fraser and had religiously followed his career. But her infatuation was just that and nothing more, even though she was often teased by her colleagues in her early years of internship. She was realistic enough to admit he was way out of her league, especially when he had been photographed and linked to high profile women in the past and fawned over by over-eager fans. After the locker room incident, she crossed path with James Fraser a couple more times, and there was never any hint of recognition on his part. She simply put it down to her baseball cap concealing most of her face and her refusal to engage, in case the embarrassing episode of her ogling at him was brought up.

Over a year and a half ago, she'd watched him score try after try for the national team during the World Cup, along with everyone in the local pub she frequented. There had never been a doubt he was destined to become one of the all-time greats in the rugby world. But no one had seen the injury coming, especially Jamie. Claire could still remember the heartbreak in his eyes when he announced his retirement on live TV at the age of twenty-eight, despite the light-hearted joke about having more time to practice his golf swings. And just like that, he disappeared from the media circuit.

After a while, rumours started to spread that he had gone off on a self-destructive bender. Joe Abernathy had confirmed the stories were true and he had tried to reach out to him, and so had the local community and his own family. Instead of being coaxed out into the light, James Fraser hid in his apartment, refusing to answer calls and emails. She thought what a waste if he ended up as a drunken slob as she'd never known him to be anything but a fiercely confident man even to a fault. Although she was a nobody to James Fraser, she had urged Joe multiple times to keep trying to reach out. Unfortunately, he didn't want the help and soon, even his staunchest fans began to lose interest. Except, maybe her.

Making her way towards him, she watched with interest as James Fraser smiled at his nephew whizzing about on his new toy bike. Russet coloured hair curled unruly over his brow and brushed the nape of his neck. He looked rather pale, and it was the first time she'd seen him with a beard. The uneven state of it told her the facial hair was a product of self-neglect rather than a style change. Her gaze dipped lower. With his feet braced apart, arms folded across his chest and at least his six-four height, he towered with an impressive bearing. Clad in faded black jeans that hung low on his hips and a white t-shirt that stretched over his muscular build, he looked like a modern Highland warrior.

"Hi there."

Claire's thought bubble burst, and she quickly reeled in her dwindling focus and pulled it higher until she met his eyes. A pair of pale ice blue with piercing intensity momentarily froze her in place. Right! What was it again I'm supposed to do? Oh yeah, collect the money, and get the hell out of here. Piece of cake. "Hi."

He gave her a forced smile as he fumbled at the back of his jean's pocket. "Ye've come to collect yer money. How much does my sister owe ye?"

"That'll be seventy quid, please. And um, good to see you out and about, Mr Fraser."

He stopped and squinted at her as if attempting to see through her doggie disguise. "Ah, a sassenach!"

"Yes, I've been reminded often enough."

There was a moment of silence.

Puffing his cheeks, he dragged a hand through his hair and rapidly let out a lungful of air. "Christ, I didn't mean it that way. And please call me Jamie. Everyone else does. And nae need to be so formal!"

She nodded her big head. "Alright ...Jamie, it is then. And don't worry. I didn't take offence. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

He was about to pull a note out of his wallet, but he stopped. As if he was in search of the right words to say. "Ye have a beautiful voice. What's the word ...aye, husky. Kinda like a bedroom voice."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she searched his face. It seemed he was genuinely just attempting small talk. "Thank you."

"Would ye like a drink before ye go? It's a hot day. Ye must be parched."

"Ah, no, I'm quite alright. But thanks."

"Ye have a name?" He drew out a hundred-pound note from his wallet, pinching it between his fingers.

"Call me Chase. I'm one of the Paw Patrols." When he laughed out loud, she was grateful for the mask that hid her unexpected smile.

"Weel, Chase I think ye sound bonnie." He took a careful step forward to peek through the eyehole. "Ye bonnie under there, Chase?"

Oh no, you don't! She took two steps back. This is getting bloody ridiculous. In as much as Claire was enjoying the harmless blather with the handsome Scot, she knew she was running out of time. She had a couple of hours of nap to take, shower, and meet Frank for a dinner date. For the most part, he was affecting her in ways that no other man had made her feel. Including Frank. "I really need to go," she said hoarsely.

"Right. Just one request before ye go. I'll give ye this ..." He waved the hundred-pound note in front of her. "...and ye can keep the change if ye let me see yer face."

Claire felt a stab of exasperation. Why does it matter what I look like? She was exhausted, hot and bothered and all she wanted right there and then was to get out of the stuffy costume. "Why do you need to see my face?"

Suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "What I meant ..."

She didn't let him finish. "What if you don't like what you see? Do I have to give the change back? Don't you have enough girls fawning over you?"

His shame morphed into annoyance and then into smug. "Careful, Sassenach, ye're starting to sound a little jealous to me."

Ooh, he's back to his usual cocky self. "Wot? Me? Jealous?" she fumed almost sputtering.

"Aye, jealous." He looked like he enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable as a corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile.

A cloud above her head darkened, lightning threatening to shoot at all sides. She knew it was the heat and exhaustion that was making her cranky and tried to take calming breaths. "You're presumptuous and rude."

"And ye're annoyed because I can see that the idea of girls fawning me irks ye."

That's it, I've had enough of this palaver.

Claire rolled her lips inward to plump them, then reached up and removed her mask. Gratification coursed through her when his jaw went slack, and his blue eyes turned a deeper shade. That's right matey, I am not at all that bad! As she took a step forward, he straightened his posture, a groan escaping from his throat. He saw the intention in her eyes and knew what was coming.

"Jealous, you say?" she hissed. Remembering the embarrassment Jamie had caused her during their initial meeting, she shoved him against the wall of the house, not caring if anyone was watching the spectacle she was creating. Surging up on her toes, she brought her face up close to his, their noses almost touching. "That's right, darling, I would rock your world."

Ah, what the heck ...I'm getting married soon, I might as well. Not giving Jamie a chance to get a word in edgeways, she leaned even closer and merged their mouths together. To her astonishment, his lips parted, and the kiss hit the ground running in no time. One strong hand gripped her chin and pulled it down further, allowing him to slant his head and deepen the kiss more. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Shock exploded into her brain, and she swayed a little under the onslaught of heat. Jamie pushed his tongue deeper, making a low moaning sound, and she echoed it in kind. Then she felt his hand slide behind her neck as if he couldn't allow her to get away, and that's when she knew she was losing control. What the hell are you doing Beauchamp? Remember Frank?

Claire pulled away and took a deep breath. With his mouth damp and parted, he too was trying to draw in as much air as he could, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. "Ye look familiar. Who the hell are ye?"

Swallowing the odd lump in her throat, she plucked the hundred-pound note out of his fingers. "I'm gone. I'll have a receipt sent over." She took a few steps, stopped and then turned around to look at him. "Oh, by the way, I sincerely hope you're done feeling bad about your rugby career. Circumstances mess everyone up once in a while. And I guess it's fair to say, you've been messed up really bad. But, please, don't lie down and play the victim. I know you're better than this. Look at this way, you've achieved more than anyone could in a lifetime. You did it, Jamie. You've already achieved what you set to do. And I wish you all the luck in the world."

Taking advantage of the group of people approaching them, she hurried away.

"Hey ...wait, what's yer name?"

This time she didn't respond nor look back. With as much dignity as one could summon while dressed in a doggie costume, she ran as fast as she could.

#melodyheart #startingover #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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agustdef · 5 years ago

Text

Annoying Family| Christmas Oneshot

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4,404

Warning: None.

Prompt: “So, still no boyfriend this year, huh?” // “Still no job, huh?”

Author’s Note: This is my second and last Christmas prompt. It’s a tiny bit more festive but not much more than the other.

“Are you happy? Can I go inside now?” Lane asked.

With a shaky hand, she tapped the icon on the screen so her front camera was in use again so Namjoon was looking at her. He wore a stupid grin and shook his head no.

“And why not?”

“You only let me see it for a few seconds. Let me look at it longer. It’s beautiful the way your mom decorated and all the snow makes it better,” he said as he pouted.

“Yeah. The snow that is making my feet cold because I’m standing in it. The snow that is being maintained because it’s cold outside, which is making the rest of me cold.”

Rolling her eyes, she stood there for a moment, watching him try to intensify his pout in order to sway her. Those damn dimples almost had her, but in the end, she stormed back towards the house and walked inside, slamming the door behind her.

“Lane…”

“Lane my ass. It’s cold. And you act like you won’t see this entire set up when you get here in a few hours.”

“But it’ll be dark by then.”

“Do you plan to come for the evening and leave tomorrow morning or something? Have you suddenly decided not to be here for almost two weeks?”

Lane was having a hard time humoring him anymore as she kicked off the slippers she’d been wearing and searched for another pair. The clear irritation on her features wasn’t much of a deterrent for Namjoon though. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could or she could cut him off another voice rang out and caught their attention.

“Lane!” her mother shouted.

Without a word just Lane just walked towards the sound of her voice, finding her and a few aunts moving about the kitchen getting stuff done.

“Yes?” Lane asked.

“Call your brother and make sure he brings home enough pet milk for the banana pudding. And also make sure they’re on their way back and not making sixteen other stops. I need it now,” she said, all while never turning away from stirring something in a pot.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Just as Lane was about to tell Namjoon she’d call him back he shouted, “Hi mama!”

That got her mother’s attention. She turned her head to the side and motioned Lane forward so she could see the phone. Lane moved closer and held the phone out, avoiding the steam since the thing was half dead and if a hint of water got into the port, she wouldn’t be able to charge it for hours.

“Hi, baby. Are you almost here?” she asked.

Namjoon smiled and nodded. “Yes, I just have this last flight out of Chicago. They said we’re boarding early.”

Lane scoffed. “Only you would have the luck of a flight boarding early with snow in the near forecast.”

That made both of them glare at her, but she merely shrugged and shifted her attention to her aunt working on the dressing. She was stirring the mixture before pouring it into the pan and it made Lane’s stomach stir in wanting and disdain. It was her least favorite food for the holidays and they’d made a big batch. Her mother would probably try to coerce her to eat at least one serving of it, even if it was just a forkful.

“Okay, make sure you message La before you land so we can send someone to go and get you. No reason to pay all that money a taxi or Lyft will charge you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Namjoon said.

A tap on the shoulder brought Lane’s full attention back to the two of them. Her mother was focused on the pot again but glanced up for a moment.

“Lane go get ready and call your brother, please. We’ll need your help in here in a minute and you won’t have time to change later.”

Nodding Lane made her escape upstairs to her old bedroom to get ready. She’d kind of forgotten about Namjoon being on the phone and tossed it on the bed as she slipped out of her gray tracksuit onesie. It wasn’t until she was leaning over it, breasts practically spilling out of her bra that she remembered.

Or was reminded.

“I was going to complain about being forgotten, but this makes up for it,” Namjoon said.

Lane rolled her eyes and picked up the phone, the shirt she was reaching for momentarily forgotten.

“Never mind. I don’t want you to come here for Christmas. Go back to Korea, I’ll see you in two weeks.”

He tried to stifle his laugh, but no matter how much she frowned and looked ready to throw a tantrum his lips quirked up.

“You really going to make me spend Christmas Eve in this airport and then Christmas on a plane back home? With your present in hand?” he asked.

She almost said yes. But he’d take her up on that bluff and she would never deny that she missed the dork and didn’t want to wait another two weeks to see him again.

Lane sighed. “No.”

“Exactly, so…” Before he could finish his sentence, a voice sounded on his end and though Lane couldn’t hear it clearly, she saw people moving, which meant it was time to board.

“Okay, I have to go.”

“That’s fine, I needed to get ready and call Jacob anyway. Do not want my mom killing either of us. But make sure you to text me like twenty minutes out.”

Namjoon was distracted grabbing his carry-on stuff that she thought she’d need to repeat herself until he’d had his ticket scan and he was walking towards the plane. His attention moved back to her.

“Okay, I will. I love you. Later.”

“I love you too.”

And with that she hung up the phone, rushing to slip her shirt over her head and slip on her pants as well. She managed to call her brother and get her hair out of the twists she’d put them in the night before. Having wanted to braid it but decided that it would be too much work.

Cutting her hair a few weeks before meant that she had to blow dryer or flat iron her hair straight so it was long enough for some styles and she wasn’t in the mood for all that. It could live its life in a curly-coily fro atop her head until she felt like doing something more with it or it grew out long enough.

Once finished she got downstairs and was thrown into one task after the other. She helped in the kitchen to finish up or start some of the dishes. Somehow when her brother arrived, she was roped into helping with the Christmas lights on the tree since the others blew the night before, but he’d neglected to tell her he hadn’t bought new ones. Instead, she spent forever on the floor detangling the ones that he brought.

When that was finally done, she’d ended up back in the kitchen and helping remove things from the oven to switch them out with other stuff. By that time, it was too many people in there, others arriving and trying to talk, sneak something, or help where it wasn’t needed.

It’s how she ended up releasing a loud, but short scream and nearly dropping the macaroni and cheese she was trying to put into the oven. Her cousin was trying to sneak by to grab something she was told to let be and was bumped by another cousin trying to help with something and her arm hit the stove door.

“For the last time: everyone get out!” her aunt yelled.

With that they all scattered and if they didn’t move fast enough, they were practically shoved out. The remaining people converged on her and got her away from the stove and towards the sink. It wasn’t until her wrist was tightly wrapped in gauze that the pain moved to a dull ache.

“Go sit down and don’t let anyone tell you to do anything or help them with anything. Also, tell Miss Kendall if she want to be in here so damn bad touching stuff, she can come help us cook then,” Lane’s great aunt, May, said.

She nodded and headed out, only needing to make eye contact with Kendall for her to know what to do. This wasn’t the first time she’d been caught doing something and was forced into helping with the cooking - and it was never the fun or easy part of the cooking either.

Lane just kept going though, finding an empty couch and plopping down. She wasn’t alone for long though, because soon her nephew was beside her and other cousins and aunts were sitting nearby.

“Why was Ken so mopey going into the kitchen?” Marie - her aunt, who was younger than her, asked.

Lane and her cousin Xavier spoke at the same time.

“She bumped me and I burned my arm.”

“The uncles got ahold of her boyfriend and are holding him hostage to scare the shit out of him in the den.”

His comment had everyone whipping their heads to stare at him, eyes wide in shock. Even Lane didn’t think her burn was as bad as what they’d heard.

That poor man was in danger. They were assholes and would poke and poke all they wanted until they got the result they wanted. But she didn’t want that thought to dampen everyone’s moods.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He’s the one who broke up with her because he let his friends tell him that he needed to branch out before he could truly say he was in love with her,” Marie said while stifling a giggle.

Lane grimaced but tried to rein in her expression. “I’m sure, they won’t… murder him or make him cry.”

They all just stayed there for a moment, mulling over her words and trying to figure out what to say next. Lane was feeling bad for the girl and didn’t know what exactly to do.

“Fu…” Marie started, but then realized Lane’s nephew was sitting there. “Skip it, I’m going to go save him.”

She strutted off with that and Lane was sure she’d get him out of there. Despite being the youngest they all listened to her because she was, in fact, an aunt and the sibling to two of them. Plus, she was mean as hell when she needed to be.

In her absence Lane planned to continue the conversation, but then her phone buzzed aggressively in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw something coming through via Messenger.

Joon: Landing in 20

Joon: Might be slightly sooner

Joon: Getting mixed messages from pilot

Joon: Either way, there in 20

Lane had already started glancing around for her brother and after a few seconds made eye contact with him. All she had to do was raise her phone and he was moving towards the door.

“Where is dad going?” her nephew, Alexander, asked.

“Joon texted me,” she said.

“I’m going with him!”

And with that Alexander shot off the couch and headed towards the door. Shouting for his dad to wait for him as he headed out of the door.

Marie returned by the time they’d left and she had a man with her, who looked only a little bit scared. She directed him to the kitchen where Kendall was and then plopped down where Alexander had been sitting before.

Lane: Jacob and Alex are on the way

Marie was leaning over as she typed and she had to push her head away until she pressed send and put the phone back into her pocket. Turning her head, she stared at Marie.

“Can I help you?” Lane asked.

“Is that him?” Marie whispered.

“Yup.”

“He’s coming now?”

“Yup.”

Then Marie swatted her arm. “Girl you better give me more than a yup.”

“What more do you… Oh my goodness you have got to be fucking kidding me?” Lane was prepared to keep messing with her, but then the front door opened and in strolled her cousin Shaun.

He was wearing that cocky smirk and had some girl attached to his arm. She seemed nice from first glance, but the fact that she was with the little shit made Lane very weary of that.

“I thought he wasn’t coming,” Marie said.

“I almost prayed so he wouldn’t come,” Lane muttered.

Xavier, who’d gotten distracted in a different conversation leaned over. “He said he wasn’t coming and then last minute changed his mind. We all hoped he’d just go off to Greece or wherever the hell he said he was going.”

Lane felt her mood drop so much. Shaun was annoying as hell; he had been his entire life and it only got worse as he aged. And when he’d gotten a job that allowed for travel that just completed his transformation. Lane was the kind of person that traveled and encouraged her family to do the same but didn’t use it as some sort of thing that made her better. Shaun however, enjoyed being the bougie person who held all his travels in high regard. The little shit saw himself as elite and at one point regarded Lane as the same. Until he realized she was exploring the world like him, but not treating that ability as something that made her superior.

For four years she’d had to deal with his bullshit and when he locked eyes with her after hugging his mother, she knew he’d continue it.

And without missing a beat, he made his way over towards their little collective and smiled down at her.

“Hey everyone,” he said.

Xavier, his brother, got up to hug him and everyone else just muttered soft hellos. No one really liked dealing with him, but not speaking meant that he’d get extra annoying and no one wanted that either.

“And this is my girlfriend, Kiara.”

Another round of hellos went out, though they were much nicer and enthusiastic than the other ones. They didn’t know her, so there was no need to be jerks towards her. That was reserved for Shaun until she did something to set someone off.

And then his attention was on Lane. “I’m so glad that we could be here at the same time La. We’ve missed each other for like three years on Christmas.”

“Sure,” Lane said.

Shaun sighed, still staring down at Lane; but the smile was gone and replaced by a fake ass look of concern that she could spot a mile away.

“Did you…”

Before he could finish Lane’s name was called from the kitchen and she happily excused herself. When she entered, she was asked to handle the banana pudding because she was one of the few who knew how to do it right. So, she washed her hands and got to work laying down the layers of cookies and bananas in the pans. Once finished she poured over the cooled - but still hot as hell - pudding mixture over top each of them. She only poured a little at a time so not to accidentally overfill anything.

By the time she was done and shooed back out of the kitchen, people had dispersed and she found her former spot empty. She plopped down onto the couch and was joined by her niece, who’d disappeared the moment she entered the house hours before.

“Can you play this round for me? I can’t get passed it,” Alexis asked.

Lane looked toward her and noticed that she was playing Luigi’s Mansion 3 aka the early Christmas present that she’d slipped her when she’d arrived home for the holidays a week before.

“I can try,” she said.

Taking the system in her hands she focused on the screen, trying to remember how to get through that part of the game. She had it for her own Switch, but it had been a few weeks since she’d had it right in front of her.

Several attempts later and they’d cleared that part of the game and Alexis took over again, though she remained where she was. So, Lane watched on as she continued through the game.

It was nice and peaceful until Shaun showed up again with his girlfriend still clinging to him and looking nervous. Lane tried to ignore him, but he just kept standing there and being weird. Which was also something she could ignore, but then he spoke.

“Did you come by yourself this year too?” he asked.

Lane just rolled her eyes and continued focusing on the game. The creepy music that started as something lurked pulled her in and she was almost completely unaware of him, but he just kept talking.

“So, yes?”

“Why would you assume that?” Lane asked without looking at him.

“You look so lonely over here. Sitting with a kid instead of talking to the adults,” he said.

That made her look up to see his stupid, smug face and his girlfriend’s obvious discomfort.

“So, spending time with my niece and playing a game with her, screams lonely to you? Maybe if you spent time with yours, you’d see it’s anything but that.”

Shaun scoffed. “I’m busy and can’t see her often. That doesn’t mean I don’t spend time with her. And even so, that doesn’t mean I’d abandon Kiara to do it. So, you have to have come alone.”

Lane opened her mouth to respond but thought better of it and refocused on Alexis and her game. She’d made some major progress while Lane’s attention was elsewhere.

Again, she’d hoped that it was the end of their conversation, but Shaun just stood there and said nothing. Minutes went by and it just grew more uncomfortable and Lane was ready to snap.

Then Shaun sighed, though it was more like a sound of pity than anything else. Who he was pitying she was unsure, because he surely couldn’t have deluded himself into thinking she needed pity, let alone his pity.

“So, still no boyfriend this year, huh?” he asked.

“Still no job, huh?” she asked, not missing a beat.

Shaun’s eyes went wide and his lips parted, a soft gasp leaving them. He didn’t seem to know what to say, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words. It was amusing to watch. He was floundering for something, probably never expecting her to be aware of his little secret.

After a minute of silence, he finally found his voice. “What the hell gives you the impression that I don’t have a job? You know very well I do. I even came to your company last month to work on a project.”

“Yes. A project you failed to see through and thus were let go for. Which wasn’t the first project you’ve messed up for that brand and thus why your termination came about so swiftly.”

Again, he seemed unable to speak and his girlfriend looked like she was holding in laughter at his expense.

“H-how...”

He didn’t get far before the front door swung open and in came Jacob with two bags in his hand and Alexander trailing behind him. A few seconds later Namjoon appeared in the doorway, eyes sweeping the space until they landed on Lane.

Lane quickly rose from her seat, though not faster than Alexis who’d bolted towards him before she could. By the time she reached him Alexis was done hugging him and showing the game Lane got her, so she had his full attention.

Without a word, he pulled her into a tight hug and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I missed you,” she said, though it was muffled in his shirt.

“I missed you too,” he said.

They stayed like that for a bit until there was a squeal heard from behind them. Namjoon pressed a kiss on her forehead before turning his attention to her mother who was politely shoving Lane to the side in order to hug him.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Of course. I said I wouldn’t miss it, mama.”

They hugged for a little longer before Lane’s mother turned around to address the room, which had grown in capacity since everyone heard the commotion.

“This is my baby, Namjoon. He’s Lane’s boyfriend and all of you will leave him alone. I don’t wanna see not one of you pestering him or trying to intimidate him. He’s too damn sweet for all that.”

Everyone remained silent, most people just nodding in agreement while others just continued to assess the situation. But none of them looked ready to try her, which was good because the way she glared at them had Lane nervous and she was one of the few definitely safe from her wrath.

Seconds passed and everyone went back to what they were doing. A few not in the living room before lingered and watched, possibly waiting to talk to him or observe their interactions.

Lane led him through the house so he could speak to everyone and then they made their way to the couch where the twins were. Plopping down they only released hands so Namjoon could wrap his arm around her shoulders.

His attention went to Alexander showing him the game he was playing until they were ambushed by cousins and aunts asking a million questions. And at the very back of the group stood Shaun, pouting but listening closely.

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

“Tell me why we had to come to the hotel instead of just staying at the house, where you have a room?” Namjoon asked.

Lane sighed and turned to look at him as he walked out of the bathroom with a towel on his head. He was only wearing pajama pants because the room was very warm and neither of them were to keen on making it cooler just so they could wear extra clothes. She had opted for just wearing one of his shirts over her undergarments.

“Because they’re too many people there and my aunt was staying over, so her taking my bed was a better idea. Plus, you already had this room and needed to check-in before they thought you weren’t coming.”

Namjoon huffed. “It’s 2:00 am they should’ve already given it away.”

Rolling her eyes Lane finished tucking her hair under the black bonnet she wore and laid down on the bed.

“Can you just come to bed so we can sleep. Unless you want to whine about it until it’s too late for us to go to bed?”

Namjoon huffed, tossing the towel onto the back of the chair and flopping onto the bed with all his limbs spread out. His eyes remained closed and he refused to look at Lane. For a minute or two, she thought he was asleep, and then he groaned.

“And we have to get up early to get back over there?”

Lane scoffed. “You classify getting up at eleven early?”

Namjoon shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide as he stared at Lane. “Eleven? You mean we don’t have to get there early for other stuff? Breakfast? Presents? Some sort of family event?”

Lane rolled onto her side and shook her head.

“We eat on Christmas Eve because no one feels like cooking on Christmas. We know that’ll last until late and also loathe the idea of getting up early for presents that will be there regardless of the time. And everyone is in charge of their own breakfast if they get up for it. Lunch is leftovers and dinner is when we all go out to a restaurant. Sometimes we break up into groups and people go to different places because it makes no sense to have to eat out where you don’t want to.”

The more Lane said the more relieved Namjoon appeared to be until he had slumped to the point that he was laying down again. His body was much more relaxed than when they’d gotten to the hotel.

“I love your family,” he mumbled.

“Yes, they’re great. Now could you please cuddle me. I missed it. And it’s Christmas, so denying me would be rude,” Lane whined.

Namjoon’s entire demeanor changed and suddenly their bodies were pressed together, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist - there would be no escape for her, even though she had zero plans of escaping.

He smiled at her, dimples clear as day and deepening the longer he stared at her. But she stayed strong and decided not to melt instantly.

“It would be rude? What was cuddling on your list to Santa this year?” he asked.

Lane had no shame and nodded. “Yes, it was. Now you must fulfill it on his behalf. Please, and thank you.”

“But I fulfilled one of the other things on the list. If I have to do more than one than what the hell is he doing?”

“Give me my damn cuddles you LOTR elf. I have been deprived long enough.”

Namjoon laughed. “Okay, okay. Damn.”

Releasing her he got out of the bed and turned off all the lights and turned on the TV. He went to Netflix and put on The Office before climbing back into the bed. Laying on his back he pulled Lane closer and she threw a leg across his waist and rested her head on his shoulders. His arms went around her, one resting on her butt and the other her back.

After a few seconds they both settled in and Lane felt her body relax better than it had in a while.

“I missed this,” she mumbled.

“Me too.”

Lane felt a hand under her chin and then her head was tilted back. From that angle she could look directly at Namjoon, who was smiling at her, despite looking so tired that he could pass out.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He leaned closer and kissed her, it was gentle and warm. There was no attempt to deepen it or make it something more, just a simple kiss. When he pulled away, he was still smiling, but his eyes had fluttered closed.

“Merry Christmas baby,” he said as he drifted off.

“Merry Christmas.”

And they both fell into a deep slumber, wrapped in each other and comfortable for the first time in weeks.

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haevatein · 4 years ago

Text

🔥 ‘ﾟ･ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐑;

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄; 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒. Shifter of Shapes, the Catalyst of Change. Untamable and volatile, troublesome, tester of minds. A wild flame that inspirires creativity and life.

NAME: Loke Laufeyjarson TITLES: Bekki, Blind, Gammleid (leader of amusement), Haloge, Hveðrungr (roarer), Lokabrenna (loki’s torch/burning by loki), Lóðurr, Logaþore, Loge, Lôgna, Logi, Lokkji, Loptr (lofty), Lucky, Loki, Laugaz (blazing god), Laugatjanaz (blazing one), Rogur (slanderer), Slaegi (sly), slaegurtyr (sly god), Wildfire, Villieldr (blazing) ,Dogstar, Sataere (the thief in ambush), Lævatein, Hævatein, Trickster, Liesmith, Truth-speaker, Fire-Bringer, Scarlip, Fireball, Demon, Silvertongue, Vaelandi (debasing), Shifter Of Shapes.

God of Fire and Chaos, God of Mischief and Creativity, God of Laughter and Mirth. God of Madness and Change.

Son of Laufey, Farbauti’s Son, Begetter of Serpents, Father of Wolves, Sire of Half-Born Hel, Mother of Horses.

Brother of Byleist, Brother of Helblinde, Blood Brother of Oden, Confidant of Thor, Friend of Oden, Friend of Thor, Fromkveda Flaerdanna (seductive speaking), Gift bearer, Harmer of Sif’s hair, Prisoner of Geirrodr, Sea Thread’s Father (the sea thread is a kenning for the midgard serpent), Sky-Walker, Staunch Friend of Hoenir, Thief of Brisingamen, Thief of Giants, Thief of Idunn’s Apples. The Sky Traveller, Architect and Destroyer of Worlds, Opener of Forbidden Doors, Builder of Asgard, Lighter-than-Air.

Bonus: One kenning used to identify Thor is Bragdmilldr Loka (compassionate to Loki).

AGE: 1,500,000,000+, exact age unknown. SPECIES: Jötun and Aesir God. GENDER: Male, but is able to shapeshift to the opposite gender. ORIENTATION: Bisexual/Demi-romantic. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Old Norse, Runic, Allspeak. LOCATION: Verse dependent. Mainly Asgård or Midgård, can also be seen on Jötunheimr.

FAMILY:

Laufey ( mother )

Farabute ( father )

Byleist ( brother )

Helblinde ( brother )

Oden ( brother through blood-pact)

Balder, Thor, Vidarr, Hodir, Tyr ( sort-of nephews; sons of Oden)

Sigyn ( wife / verse dependent )

Angrboda ( lover )

Narfi and Vali ( twin sons )

Fenrir ( son )

Jörgumandr ( son )

Sleipner ( son )

Hel ( daughter )

Moder ( daughter )

APPEARANCE

Loke often appears with the height of 7'5"ft ( 229cm ); he is taller than most humans, but he is shorter than most Jötnar. His mother still towers above him. But to his height is average to that of an Aesir male.

He mostly appears as a 27-30 year old man or woman to others, but can change his physical age. His body is athletically built with defined muscles, however not as muscular and large as other male Aesir such as Thor or Tyr.

The Trickster has sharp but not unpleasant features, to most he is beautiful to look upon, no matter the gender. He wields an alluring aura. Like fire, Loke’s eyes are bright and intense. A flame-like red and yellow, wich gleams even in the faintest of shadows. Black dots under the lower lashes frame the eyes. He has many freckles sprinkled across his face, most notable over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose and above his eyebrows.

Curved horns with old-nordic patterns engraved into their surfaces decorate the top of his head. They are his most striking features alongside his fiery red hair; untamed and wild just like his nature. It is lenghty and reach past his hips, and curl around his horns and spread out as if the laws of gravity does not apply to his hair, he often let the hair be braided into one or three braids that drape over his shoulders. His skin is pale and on syren tinted lips are permanent, rough jacks and scars, a result after the punishment where he got them sewn together. His ears are pointed, and his nails are sharp like claws, often painted black.

HEIGHT: 7'5"ft / 229cm (can be altered, true heigh is giant; sky-reaching) EYE COLOUR: Fire-Red and Yellow HAIR COLOUR: Fiery Red with a gradient to bright yellow at the hair’s edges. SKIN COLOUR: Pale BUILD: Athletic

INTERESTS

Loke takes interest in things that pleases him. Mischief; pranks and a bit of chaos entertains him greatly, but so does also the entertainment of others. He often interacts with mortal beings; either to chat or to cause minor trouble, eitherway it amuses him most of the time. He also enjoys horseback riding, sex, food and alcohol.

PERSONALITY

He’s a very light-hearted God, who often wear a sly smile on his face. It is uncommon to find him in a serious mood, even when the situation would call for it. He is compassionate and giving to those who are devoted to him, most of his actions aimed at his worshippers have good intention, but his methods are that of rough love; making others face the hard truth, face their insecurities as he guides them to their fated path. This doesn’t make him any less of a mischevious trickster,however, even to his followers. He will find amusement along the journey, be it on their behalf, others, or his own.

But despite his easy-going and wild nature, Loke is capable of great anger, of wrath, an emotion one does not wish to evoke from him- as the lenghts he will go to get that sweet revenge are great and have no limits. He is not beyond killing someone out of spite or sheer annoyance. To get on Loke’s bad side is to wish for a life filled with unrest. And with Hela, the Goddess and Ruler of the Unworthy dead, as his daughter, not even death may be peaceful.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin

POSITIVE TRAITS: Charismatic, intelligent, humorous, playful, curious, creative, ambitious, patient, loyal, passionate, caring, generous.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Manipulative, crafty, mischevious, decietful, distrustful, violent, chaotic, impulsive, rude, hateful, jealous, vengeful, volatile, unpredictable, unscrupulous, dishonest, juvenile, proud, stubborn.

PHYSICAL ABILITIES:

INTELLIGENCE: Loke has a genius level intellect and possesses a great deal of knowledge and wisdom. He is often valued as many mortal’s pateron god not only for his mischevious and light-hearted nature, but for his advice and knowledgeable mind. He is also extremely cunning and skilled, an expert battle strategist, and a highly skilled; charming and charismatic manipulator, which is evident by the ease how Loke repeatedly succeeded to regain the trust of his fellow Gods, despite his numerous deciets.

SKILLED COMBATANT: Loke is a formidable combatant, as a hand-to-hand fighters, and particularly as a swordsman or in the use of seidr during combat situations. Against mortal beings (super-human or not) Loke will win with overwhelming easy victory, the strenght of a god is not to be underestimated or down-played. The sheer force of his screams are powerful enough to cause violent earthquakes on Midgård(earth) when he is not even present on that world.

SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH: Loke, without the aid of anything, through his own biology, possess strenght far FAR greater than that of an average human male, even mortal beings enchanced with superhuman abilities or strenght ( keep in mind that just the pure force of his screams is powerful enough to cause destructive earthquakes on Midgård when he is not even on that realm; hence the name Roarer ). However his physical strenght is average in comparision to the most skilled warriors of his fellow Gods such as Tyr, Freyr and Thor.

FIRE-RESISTANT: He is resistent to fire, all kinds of fire. Fire will not harm him.

SUPERHUMAN LONGEVITY: Loke will not die unless killed by another God. Only Gods are able to truly harm him and mortally wound him, and even kill him. If killed he reincarnates.

SEIDR:

DREAM-VIEWING: Loke can enter; watch and interact with other beings’ dreams. There he can see their desires; ambitions and personality traits. He can gain knowledge of secrets kept away if the person is not strong-willed enough to keep it hidden in their dreams.

TELEPORTATION: He can teleport himself or others across dimensions and space and time.

PSIONICS: Loke has powerful psionic capabilities He has the ability to project his thoughts telepathically well as potent hypnotic capabilities.

SHAPE-SHIFTING: Loke possesses shape-shifting abilities through his own biology. He is able to adopt any form imaginable whether it be animals, other humanoid beings, or even inanimate objects— and gaining the abilities of whatever form he takes. The only limit is his own imagination.

PYROKINESIS: Loke is a God of Fire. He is able to control the elements of fire as he so see fit. He can summon flames to physically appear in his hands and around his body or use his sorroundings to control it at will. There is no limit to the amount of fire he can produce, nor how high he can turn up the temperature- if he wanted to, he could melt down buildings made out of rock, and metal. He could make a planet’s earth crumble under the heat. This also makes him invulnerable to fire, all types of fire.

RESSURECTION: Just as his fire may bring destruction and chaos and death, it can also bring warmth and life. He is able to bring life to the recently deceased, and is thought to be one of the Gods who created the first humans (together with Höenir and Oden).

INVISIBILITY: Loke, like his fellow Gods; is able to render himself unseen to the eye of other beings. A nice quirk benefitting Gods as they can shred themselves of physical flesh and roam as shapeless entities in any realm, or in mortal minds. He can remain unseen to mortal eyes for as long as he so desire, and only shows himself for those he wants to see him. However sharp-minded and attentive beings can possibly sense something is there, but not actually see him.

ILLUSIONS: Loke is able to fool his enemies who try to attack him with illusions of himself. He can also cast illusionary images inside mortal beings minds— fooling them by making them think what is not there, exists, as well as affect their senses while they're in that illusionary reality.

PROJECTION: Loke, like all other Gods, is able to be at multiple places at the same time, without loosing any attention or power. With many devoted to their Pantheon, there are many beings’ prayers to pay attention to.

BIOGRAPHY

Loke is the son of the giants Farabute and Laufey, and brother to Byleist and Helblinde. By the Giantess Angrboða, Loke is the father of Hel (the Goddess of Death, and ruler of Helheimr), the Giant Wolf Fenrir, and the World Serpent Jörmungandr. By his wife Sigyn, Loke is the father of Narfi and Nari. By the stallion Svaðilfari, Loke is the mother—giving birth in the form of a mare—to the eight-legged horse Sleipnir.

Brought from the realm Jötunheimr by Oden, Loke was recruited to assist the Gods. Oden and Loke saw kinship in eachother as they both were equal in their cunning, wisdom. knowledge and trickery. They held great mutual respect for eachother, and enjoyed the other’s company enough to share their blood, therefore becoming blood-brothers.

“ Remember, Othin, | in olden days That we both our blood have mixed; Then didst thou promise | no ale to pour, Unless it were brought for us both.”

Their relationship is a complicated story of trust and deciet and betrayal. They see eachother as friends, and brothers. Making a blood-pact oath to treat eachother as family. Oden and Loke are and were closer than any of the other Gods were in relation to the All-father, aside from Frigga, Oden’s wife, and his children. With time this trust was broken, both sides to blame — and their feud would come to bring upon the end of all the Realms. Ragnarök.

Loke’s relation with the Gods varies. Loke sometimes helps the Gods and sometimes causes problems for them. Loke is a powerful user of seidr, a shape shifter and a God of Fire and Madness and Chaos and Mischief. But he is also known as the God of Laughter and Mirth, Creativity and Change. Nothing with the Gods is black or white. They are all assholes and good people. Human and mortal logic and morals are not to be expected from them.

Loke’s positive relations with the Gods end with his role in, out of jealousy and resentment, engineering the death of the god Baldr, Oden’s son. He also appeared as a foe of the Gods, entering their banquet uninvited and demanding their drink. Loke is eventually bound by the Gods with the entrails of his sons, Narfi and Vali as punishment for killing the God of Light.

Depending on the timeline, Loke is loyal to Asgard and often ally with them— but, past complicated events that lead to Loke loosing trust in the Aesir, Loke flips the switch and grows hateful of the Aesir. He becomes so spiteful and vengeful he engineers Baldr’s death, and as punishment he is bound to to a rock where the venom of a snake is to drip onto Loke’s face forever, with his wife Sigyn keeping him company during his punishment. Eventually he escape from his bonds; more vengeful than ever. He wish to gain revenge upon those he feel have wronged him. With the Gods no longer countable, Loke takes the opposing side of the Aesir during Ragnarök; the End of All Worlds- he chose to oppose them alongside his children ( who also sought revenge for their mistreatment by the Aesir) and be responsible for their ruin.

After Ragnarök, Loke had ‘died’ during the war and was reincarnated, like the other deceased Gods. As the Worlds healed and became hospitable for life, Loke opted to lay low until things began moving in the Realms once more.

Past Ragnarök he is no longer fueled with rage and a thirst for revenge. He is tired and avoids the Gods most of the time; having grown past their previous disputes, as it does not serve immortal dities well to hold an eternal grudge. He is still drawn to chaotic events and mischief; his charm and impish and playful attitude intact, but he is less likely to cause major trouble.

#🔥 ‘ﾟ･ about post #long post cw

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fangirllifu · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Like Pudding Ch. 22

Italics - thoughts

It's been roughly two months since the end of the training camp. Kanna and Kenma had kept in touch. They chatted and even video called at times, as she does her homework and Kenma plays his games. They'd talk about the troublesome people surrounding them, Kuroo and Koutarou, Kenma's teammates annoying him, and just whatever topic Kanna has on her mind on that specific day.

Much to the delight of Akaashi, who found out they kept contact, despite Kanna trying her best to hide it (she still doesn't know that he knows). It wasn't really that hard for him to figure it out though, what with how much she's recently been glued to her phone and all the smiles she tries oh so terribly to not make them notice. Koutarou maybe, but not him. But in the meantime, he'll keep this all to himself and he'll let the others find out on their own. It's more fun this way anyway. Plus, he gets more pictures for the scrapbook and to possibly bribe Kenma with in the future.

Currently Kanna and Akaashi were at Kanna's home/apartment doing their respective assignments. After a straight hour of continuous studying, they decided to take a break, which reminded Kanna of an upcoming special occasion.

"Hey Keiji, you know how its Kou's birthday next week right?" Kanna brought up the topic, earning a nod from the male.

"We should really do something, even if it's small. Or else he'll whine about it." She grimaces, to which Akaashi shows a sympathetic expression of agreement.

"Small party after school at the house?" Akaashi suggests.

"I'll talk to Aunty then. We should invite Kuroo right?" She nods and adds in question, sure that her cousin would be delighted to have his best friend there.

Akaashi nods. "You can ask Kenma if the both of them are free."

"Hm. I'll ask then." Kanna then got her phone out and proceeded to type a message to Kenma.

—Hey, Kenma

—Are you free to talk? Keiji and I were wondering about something

She had just pressed send, when she suddenly realized something. "Wait, how did you—"

Only to be cut off by the sound of her phone ringing, indicating an incoming call. She pressed accept, and put it on speaker phone so Akaashi could be included in the conversation as well.

—Call—

"Hello, Kenma?"

"Yes?"

"Ah! Keiji's here with me and we were just wondering if you and Kuroo would be free next week for Kou's birthday?"

"Hmm... That's on Thursday, right?"

"Yes"

"I'd have to ask Kuroo if we have practice on that day. Though I'm sure he'd want to attend, since it is Bokuto's birthday. But we might be late in case we do have practice."

"That's alright Kozume. I'm sure Bokuto-san would be glad with just the mere fact that the two of you are coming to attend." Akaashi interjects.

"I see. Is that all?"

"Yes, thank you so much. I'm sorry if we interrupted anything." Kanna replies in a grateful but apologetic tone.

"Its fine, you didn't. I'll just message you when I have Kuroo's answer."

"Okay! Thank you again! Bye~"

"Hn"

—Call End—

"That went well." Kanna smiles looking towards Akaashi, only to see him staring down at her phone with a contemplative expression.

"Ken-kun?" Akaashi asks, lifting his head up and looking at her highly amused with the unexpected discovery.

"W-h-a-t~" Kanna drawled, looking away from Akaashi in embarrassment.

"Dang it! I was hoping he wouldn't notice it. But of course, he did!" She thought, slightly troubled.

Akaashi merely shook his head in mirth at her denial. "So, plans?"

"Right! Hm~ It's his last birthday before he graduates, so we need to do something a little special. It doesn't have to be big, just, I don't know… memorable?" Kanna vaguely reasons.

"We could have the usual team celebration moved to the morning instead of morning practice. We would have to get the coach's permission, but I'm sure he could make an exception." Akaashi offers.

"That works. You'll inform the rest?" Kanna asks and Akaashi merely takes out his phone to inform the rest of the team the change of plans for the set date.

"Then we'll have a second party in the afternoon, but this time along with Kuroo and Kenma." Kanna confirms, earning a nod from Akaashi.

"…..What else can we add?" She says as she closes her eyes, deep in thought.

"There's that cake shop downtown that does crazy cakes on request, we could ask them to make one." Akaashi proposes, remembering the shop he walks by every day.

"That's… a wonderful idea Keiji! I'm sure he'd be over the moon! We could split the cost once we get all the details down." Kanna sits up and clasps her hands in delight at the proposition.

"We could go there tomorrow after classes, since we don't have practice." Akaashi suggests, to which Kanna nods in approval.

"Hmm…. Presents?" Kanna asks, wondering if she'll even be able to.

"I don't think we'd have enough money to buy him a separate present. I'm sure the cake would cost a lot, it would be customized after all." Akaashi reasons

Kanna shrugs in response. "Knowing him, he'll be happy with just the cake, so we probably don't even need to get him anything more."

Seeming to come to an agreement, they end the planning there. With that they returned to finishing their works in silence.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

The day is finally here. Kanna, along with the Fukurodani Team (minus Koutarou), woke up extra early to get the gym ready for the celebration. Kanna arrived on school grounds at about the same time as the rest of the guys, who were carrying a couple decorations, as well as a medium sized box of cake. They hurriedly shuffled towards the gym and quickly got started on things, as it was only a matter of time before the guest of honor arrived.

Meanwhile, Koutarou was having a very good morning. Why, you ask. That's because it's his special day.

"Happy~ Birthday~ to~ me~" He sings in his head. If you squint, you'll see the glowing flowery background surrounding him, as he skips down the street with the biggest and dorkiest smile on his face.

As he reached the school grounds, he began to wonder if his team had remembered the special occasion.

"It's my last year… wonder what I should do with the team?" Koutarou thought as he opened the doors of the gym, only to be greeted with a loud.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAPTAIN!"

There the team, plus his cousin, were gathered as a group in the middle of the gym, wide smiles on their faces. A whiteboard covered in decorations was behind them with the words 'Happy Birthday to the Bestest Captain', in front of them was a table with a medium sized chocolate cake with a single lit candle on top, waiting to be blown.

"YOU GUYS~~!" Koutarou exclaimed as he ran up to join the group.

"Oy Oy! Don't get mushy now!" Konoha yelled alarmed at Koutarou as he got close enough to see the glazed eyes of his Captain.

"Come, blow the candle before it melts on the cake." Shirofuku herds, effectively gathering all of their attention.

They sang him a 'Happy Birthday' with Koutarou enthusiastically joining in. He childishly closed his eyes as he made a wish, smiling brightly as he blew the candle. After a round of clapping and another 'happy birthdays', the group happily cut the cake, excited to dig in on the sweet treat.

Koutarou looked on fondly at every single one of them, saving to memory every single smiling face. He really was glad to have been a part of this team. And he wouldn't trade them for the world. With a big bright smile on his face, he joins in on indulging himself with the chocolate cake in his hand.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

That afternoon, Akaashi walked with Koutarou back to his house, making sure to keep the older male distracted to not question anything. Though it was proving to be an even easier task than he had anticipated, as Koutarou was much too engrossed in his good mood and was continuously blabbering about to notice anything amiss. Like his currently absent cousin.

Kanna had left early to pick up the cake and prepare for the second part of their surprise, Akaashi only hoped that he was able to stall enough time for her to finish. Nonetheless, Akaashi was thankful as they arrived at the Older Bokuto's household without a hitch.

They walked up to the house, with Koutarou opening the door and greeting in his usual highly enthusiastic way.

"We're home!"

With Akaashi quietly voicing an almost nonexistent, "Excuse me for the intrusion."

"Welcome Home! We're in the kitchen dear!" His mom answers back in the same volume.

They took their shoes off and made their way to the kitchen to be greeted by the two women of the family busy cooking, Koutarou and Kanna's moms.

"Kou-kun! There's the birthday boy! Or should I call you birthday Man~" Kanna's mom exclaims teasingly, causing a loud and jolly laugh to burst from the aforementioned male.

"Hello Keiji-kun, so nice of you to join us again." Koutarou's mom greets with a smile, earning her a respectful nod from the raven-head.

"Kanna-chan's not here?" Koutarou asked as he looked around not noticing any sign of his cousin.

"Oh, she went out to buy matches, saying we ran out. She should be back any minute now." Kanna's mom answers as she goes back to preparing and plating the food.

"Oh—" Koutarou began only to be cut off by the doorbell ringing.

*Ding Dong~*

Koutarou looked questioningly at his mom and aunt, and lastly Akaashi. He knew it wasn't Kanna as she wouldn't have any need to ring the bell, so he wondered if they were expecting anyone. The three only gestured for him to go on ahead and open the door. Shrugging as he complied, Koutarou made his way towards the door. He opened it to see Kuroo and Kenma in front of him, causing him to exclaim.

"Bro!"

And Kuroo answered in equal enthusiasm. "Bro!"

"Bro!"

This went on for a minute or two, before Kuroo decided to break it.

"Happy Birthday!" Kuroo says.

"Hahahaha! Thanks!" Koutarou chuckles in response, as he ushers Kuroo in so he can close the door behind him. "Come in! Come in!"

Only to freeze along with Kuroo once they turned around. There was Kenma, out of his shoes, looking at them, waiting.

Kuroo recovered first and broke the silence. "Kenma? When did you get there?"

"When you were having your idiotic moment." Kenma deadpanned. He'd sidestepped and chose to ignore the duo sharing a single brain cell, in favor of stepping inside and out of the cold night air.

Koutarou merely shrugged and ushered the two along. "Come, they're in the kitchen."

"Mom! Kuroo and Kenma are here!" He yelled as he skipped in front of the two.

"Hello! Excuse us for the intrusion." Kuroo greets as they came into view, Kenma bows in greeting to the group.

Kenma scans the room and notices Akaashi along with two older women, one who he knows to be the older Bokuto's mom. He glances to the other and thinks. "….she must be Kanna's mom."

"Hello boys! Thank you for coming." Koutarou's mom greets back to the two with a smile.

"Oh! Hello there, I don't believe we've met before?" Kanna's mom looks curiously between the two, making Kenma twitch.

"Aunty, this is my bestest bro Kuroo and this is his childhood friend Kenma. Guys this is my Aunt Kumiko, Kanna-chan's mom." Koutarou introduces, gesturing to each person as he named them.

"Kuroo Tetsurou, Nice to meet you Kumiko-san!" Kuroo respectfully bows.

"Kozume Kenma." Kenma softly says, bowing along with Kuroo.

"So this is him…" Kumiko thought with a warm smile.

"Not much of a talker, are you. Well that's alright, my dear Kanna's the same with people she just met. Nice to meet the both of you too! Thank you for looking out for my baby at the training camp." She nonchalantly waves her hand and fixes the two with a grateful smile.

"It was nothing, Kumiko-san! If anything we should be the ones who are thankful, as she helped us. Speaking of which, where is the little owl?" Kuroo respectfully answers, and wonders as he hasn't seen the younger Bokuto anywhere.

"She stepped out for a bit, she should be back—" Kumiko explains only to be cut off by a loud yell.

"I'm back!" Kanna exclaims, the door closing shut behind her.

"I got the—" She started, but cut herself as she came into view and saw the new additional people.

"Kenma!" She says with a wide smile.

As their eyes locked, the visible change in the male didn't escape those watching the two. He might've been facing away from the group, but they could clearly see how he was much more relaxed than when he first arrived.

"Kuroo-san! You guys made it!" She continues as she turns to the taller male.

"Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world." Kuroo replies with a chuckle at the enthusiasm, and secretly at how Kenma reacted to Kanna's arrival.

"She still calls me with a '-san' though..." He inwardly sighs. "Guess she's not that comfortable with me yet."

"Did you find some, dear?" Her mom interrupts.

"I did!" She answers, brandishing the box of matches in her hand "Let's start?"

"Alright then, Kou-kun close your eyes." Koutarou's mom orders with a clap of her hands.

Koutarou follows, eagerly waiting. Kanna nudges Akaashi and gestures towards the other room for help with the cake. He walks over with her and lifts the cake, with Kanna's guidance, he carefully places it on the table along with the others. Kanna lifts off the covering, causing Kuroo to whistle and Kenma to widen his eyes.

Kuroo's whistle, of course, caused Koutarou to fuss. "What?! What?! I wanna see~!"

"Shh! We're almost done." Kanna remarks as she carefully places the candle on top and lights it. "Okay, done!"

Koutarou opens his eyes and glows—literally glows—in utter delight as he joyfully cheers in happiness. There, in front of him, was the coolest cake he has ever seen. It was an owl cake, but most of all, A Horned Owl cake in his likeness.

"THIS—IT'S— IT'S—WAAAA~!" Koutarou sobbed as he fussed over the cake. Everybody laughed at the birthday boy's antics.

"Alright enough of that, dry your tears Kou-kun and blow the candle or else the it'll melt on the cake." His mom playfully chides.

Koutarou reigns in his composure and closes his eyes to make a wish, before he opens them and blows on the candle. Afterwards, the two ladies ushers the group of teenagers for a picture, laughing at Koutarou's snot and tear stained face.

They all sat down to eat, saying thank you to the two lovely women who prepared everything. A little while after, they were joined by Koutarou's Father who had just gotten off of work. They laughed as Kumiko-san scolded her brother for being late to his own son's birthday party, but it was all in good fun. After the meal, the adults ushered the group into the living room as they cleaned up, refusing help along the way. The five of them sat around the living room as Kuroo presented him his gift.

"My Dude, My Man, My Bro…" Kuroo started, earning groans from three individuals at the side, which he pointedly ignored.

"Kenma and I pitched in to get you this extra special birthday present. And I know you'll love it, so here you go!" He finishes as he hands Koutarou the wrapped present.

Koutarou eagerly rips it open and he beams. Kuroo and Kenma had gifted him a pair of Kneepads. But not just any old pair of kneepads. It was a pair of Owl Kneepads. He laughed and glomped Kuroo, spluttering his many thanks with a big smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Akaashi's eyes twitched in slight irritation, already picturing the impending chaos he'll have to deal with at practice with the addition that's bound to double—if not triple—his Captain's already boundless enthusiasm. Kanna sweat dropped at Akaashi's expression, while Kenma merely looked on unbothered.

"Why, did you agree to that?" Akaashi sighed exasperated, looking at Kenma with a betrayed expression.

"It's what he wanted to get. Kuroo said he found it a while back but didn't have enough money to buy it. So when I proposed on pitching in for a birthday present for Bokuto, he jumped on the opportunity." Kenma shrugged, pointedly ignoring the light glare he was receiving from the taller male.

Kuroo, Kenma and Akaashi didn't stay for long as it was getting late and they all had to take a couple of train rides back, not to mention they still had school early the next day. They all said their thanks to the Bokuto family, and excused themselves. Kumiko-san offered to drive them to the station on their way home, they wanted to refuse, but ultimately they couldn't decline Kanna's mom. So they all piled into Kumiko's car with Kanna on the passenger seat, and the trio at the back.

As Koutarou, his mom and dad, waved watching the car pull out of the drive way. Koutarou began to ponder, he really was blessed. The three years in Fukuroudani had been nothing but wonderful, but this had been the best year out of all for him. And that was because finally. Finally. He'd get to see Kanna, his precious baby cousin, genuinely smile and be happy again.

"Thank you all so much!"

Notes:

Happy Holidays Everyone! Also Happy Birthday Month for our very own Bokuto-Handler who-needs-more-appreciation-and-recognition-for-his-efforts, President Akaashi Keiji!

Here is the b-day special for Bokuto I have promised. I hope you all liked it! The next one (On New Year's) would be Kenma's, please do look forward to that as well.

Please Meet Kanna's mom, Bokuto Kumiko (OC). She's got the signature energetic personality of a Bokuto, and the brains Kanna inherited. She's has no partner and happily enjoying life (not a lot of people are capable of handling a Bokuto, especially a smart one). She's best friends with Akaashi, and regularly gets updates on her baby's recent development (who is clueless).

Once again, I got carried away while writing this chapter. This is by far the longest chapter I have done (so far). But I sure did enjoy myself while writing it, so...

[Previous Chapter | Next Chapter]

Chapter List

#Sweet Like Pudding #kozume kenma x oc #Kozume Kenma #Bokuto Koutarou #akaashi keiji #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #slow burn #romance #family #friendship

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connorandersons-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Family Reunion

Rating: mature

Ship: Connor/Gavin

Word count: 5,010

Chapter: 2/5

Summary: Gavin is going to a family reunion, but he doesn't have a date. Of course, he has to ask the android he's been pining for. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Trans Gavin, fake/pretend Relationship, mutal pining, bi Connor, ace connor, gay Gavin, Ken Doll Android Anatomy

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

The day comes quickly as Connor double checks his suitcase. He is bringing clothes but also supplies just in case he gets injured for some reason. Gavin had told him that they could get thirium there, and they'd already had plenty of stuff, but he brought it anyway.

He had also stayed up all night baking things. Gavin had said they'd be leaving early in the morning and he wanted to bring something to give as a gift to Gavin's family.

Hank knocked on his doorframe and Connor looked up with a small smile. "You sure you don't wanna back out of this, son?"

"I'm sure. I already committed to it, and who else would Gavin be able to take, especially on such short notice." He closed up his suitcase and duffle bag, placing the suitcase on the ground. Gavin should be here any minute.

"Hm, well I'll come get you if you need me. If you need anything actually, I don't care how long the drive is." Hank glared at the wall. He couldn't really blame him. He knew that Gavin and Hank had a strained relationship, though neither would tell him why.

Connor smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, but I'm sure I'll be fine. Gavin may be an ass but he'll stop if I say no." He knew he would. He trusted him enough for him to.

They both turn when they wear the knock on the door. Connor can't help the small smile as he slings the duffle bag over his shoulder and goes to the kitchen, calling out that the door is open.

Connor grabs the goodies he's made (he was originally just going to make one, but he stress bakes) and walks towards the door.

He looks over and Hank has his arms crossed, staring Gavin down. He's never seen Gavin pull in on himself like this, making himself look small.

Connor doesn't say anything as he watches the two stare at each other. It takes a full one minute and twenty-five seconds until Gavin looks down at the floor.

Hank grins and nods to himself before moving away. Connor isn't really sure what just happened so he shrugs and walks over.

He hands Gavin a cup of coffee and holds out the first tray of goodies. Inside is a mixture of donuts of different kinds, and muffins. He had blueberry, chocolate, banana, apple, and plain for the muffins.

Gavin's eyes widen at the coffee and food, looking between Hank, Connor and the tray. Hank just rolls his eyes and shrugs. Gavin looks at each muffin and donut before taking a chocolate one.

"Thanks," he mumbled before taking a bite. His eyes roll back and he hums happily, scarfing down the rest of it and eagerly taking a sip of the coffee.

Connor feels pride bloom in his chest at the response. He could have learned to cook by downloading a program but has chosen to learn the human way. He was immensely glad that he had.

"Fuck, this is good." Gavin sided, grinning just slightly.

Connor smiled and looked to Hank who was just squinting at the two. "Hank, I left you some of the food I made, don't eat it all at once. Also, don't forget the recipes I taught you. I don't want to hear that you got take-out every night." He points an accusing finger at Hank.

Hank sighs and puts his hands up in surrender. "Yeah, yeah. Be safe." He then turns to Gavin, "you fuck with him I cut your dick off."

Gavin's face paled just slightly and he nodded. He had no doubt that Hank would follow through with his threat. That man may now love his job again, but Connor was like a son to him. He'd cut off anyone's dick if they hurt him.

"Alright, I'm ready if you are," Connor said. Gavin nodded and moved back out the door. Connor gave Sumo a pat on the head before walking out.

Hank stood at the doorway watching as Gavin opened up his trunk for Connor. Connor slid his suitcase in and placed his duffle bag in too before shutting it.

He walked around and opened the back door and put the two trays of food in the seat. He then walked to the passenger side and opened the door. He looked back at Hank and gave him a small wave before getting in.

Gavin slides in on the other side and starts up the car, glancing over at Connor before pulling out and into the road.

The first thirty minutes are silent as they get onto the highway. Gavin has music playing in the back, but it wouldn't be loud enough to obstruct speaking.

"Alright, so some more things about me. I do a morning routine that lasts about ten minutes. I also take a morning jog, feel free to come with. I normally wake up around seven." Gavin starts up randomly.

Connor nods along, once again taking notes. The list was becoming longer and longer and he was glad once again that he had perfect memory.

"I also try to work out at least once every other day if I don't do any hard fieldwork. Again, feel free to join. By the way, I didn't tell my family who I was bringing, so it's gonna be a surprise for them too. They just know you're a dude."

"Tina agreed to look after my cats while I'm gone. While we’re on that topic, time for you to learn about them. A friend of mine from academy had ragdolls and they had kittens, that's where I got Sig. I found Fae on the street. Sig is pretty standoffish, though I'm sure you two would get along. Fae is an attention whore. She can give you hugs, which I didn't teach by the way. She meows a lot, and can be the sweetest cat ever."

It's adorable to picture Gavin curled up with two cats. He really hoped that he'll actually get to meet them someday soon.

"So, what about you? Anything I should know?" Gavin asks, quickly glancing over before looking back at the rode. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the music.

"I consider Hank a father, and as you know we have Sumo. I also really love fish. I like to bake, and clean though Hank doesn't like it if I clean too much. He said he doesn't want me to feel like a cleaning android." He found cleaning calming, so he often cleaned when Hank was asleep.

"Right, my stepmom will adore you then. She could never get most of us to clean. My room was always a mess." Gavin snorted. "Now I have to keep everything neat."

He had seen how sparse and organized Gavin's desk always was. It was like that even with-no, especially if- he had a big case. It was nice to see compared to other desks (cough, cough, Hank's).

"Speaking of, family history time. Bio mom and dad were together for about three years. Then, bio mom and dad got divorced when I was uh… ten. Dad met stepmom and they got married when I was twelve." Gavin says, squinting slightly when he has to think about when it happened.

He knew that Hank and his ex-wife had gotten a divorce before she died. Hank had said that they stayed friends even after and when she was diagnosed with cancer he did everything he could to help.

He didn't say anything, just nodded. "Also, I use to smoke. I quit before you showed up, but you probably would have seen me struggle with that if we were actually close."

The words actually send a pang through his heart. He knew they weren't close, far from it, but it hurt to hear.

"If you do ever need help with that, please let me know. I've been helping Hank with his alcohol problem." Connor suggests.

Gavin hums and nods his head. "Yeah, I did notice that. Also, thanks. Tina was the one that finally got me to quit. Said if I didn't then she'd start smoking. Then she proceeded to kick my ass until I did."

He could imagine that. Tina was very headstrong and didn't put up with anyone's shit, including Connor's.

They continued to talk, sharing small things about themselves. It wasn't much, but he still learned more in those three hours than he had in the year he'd known Gavin.

He watches as his stress levels slowly climb as they get closer and closer. He learned a lot, but he still didn't know much about each family member.

So when they arrive at the house his stress levels are at 54%.

From the outside, this house looks magnificent. It has been built with walnut wood and has red pine wooden decorations. Tall, rounded windows add to the overall style of the house and have been added to the house in a mostly symmetric way.

The building is shaped like a squared ‘S’. The two extensions extend into stylish gardens to each side.

The second floor is smaller than the first, which allowed for several balconies on the sides of the house. This floor has a slightly different style than the floor below.

The roof is high and square-shaped and is covered with wood shingles. One small chimney pokes out the center of the roof. There are no windows on the roof.

The house itself is surrounded by a modest garden,mostly grass, with a few flower patches and a children's playground. He can also see a large lake in the distance behind the house. There are three cars already parked.

There are no other houses around for at least a mile, which is impressive. The land must have been expensive to buy. Gavin shuts off the car and Connor glances over.

His eyes seem bright but his smile is tight. He fiddles with his keys before glancing over at Connor. "You ready? It seems my oldest brother and youngest are already here."

Connor nods and gives a reassuring smile to Gavin. If anyone should need reassurance it's Connor, but he doesn't seek it out. Instead, he climbs out of the car and grabs the goodies first, then his bags.

Gavin grabs his own and their hands brush just slightly. Connor quickly pulled his hand away as it tingles just slightly.

Gavin freezes for only a second before shutting the trunk. They walk up the driveway and to the door, Gavin knocking on it once before walking it.

Connor walks in behind and shuts the door softly. It has crisp white walls, timber floors, and high ceilings. A large staircase goes up to the second floor. Even with it being so neat and tidy it still has a sense of home to it.

"Gav, honey, is that you?" A woman calls out. She rounds the corner and Connor scans her. She must be Gavin's stepmom.

She has a round heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and a dominant forehead. The width around her temples is wide, with her face becoming narrower towards the chin. Her smile makes her cheekbones and nose more pronounced.

Standing short and solidly-built, this woman has a warm feeling about her. She has alert and light brown eyes, and her hip-length, curly, black hair is styled with a fade.

She rushes over and pulls Gavin into a hug, which he reciprocates, dropping his stuff on the ground.

When she pulls back and looks over Connor, she doesn't seem to hesitate over his LED. He was definitely caught off guard when she wraps her arms around him. It's a bit awkward and Gavin grabs the trays from between them so she could hug him fully.

"It's so good to meet you; call me Shona. I hope you're doing well. We all saw what happened on TV and I must say- It was very impressive what you did, and I'm proud of you. I also know that that was dangerous as fuck and if you die before you two can get married I'll bring you back to life and kill you myself." She says as she steps back.

He… honestly has no idea what to do or think. He wasn't expecting this at all. It was nice to be accepted so easily, but still shocking.

"It's… it's a pleasure to meet you. Gavin has told me a lot about you, but I'm very glad to finally meet you in person." He says, smiling. Gavin takes a step closer to Connor and puts an arm around him.

"Mom, can we at least put our stuff down? Also, Connor made these for you guys. If you don't eat it, I will." He said, holding out the trays.

Shona gasps and takes them, smiling up at Connor. "Oh, you sweet boy. I like you even more. Gavin, you know where your room is. Go put your stuff down then come say hi to your siblings," she says, shooing them off.

Gavin chuckles but does as he's told, leading them up to his room. He opens the door and lets Connor in before closing it with a small sigh.

He has a bed with black sheets and red pillows. There is a dresser with a PS4 and a tv on it, and some NCIS and Criminal Minds FunkoPops.

He has a framed written out copy of the Miranda rights, several Marvel posters, DPD Calendar, a picture of him and Lieutenant Fowler with signed 'See you after academy Reed!', and a rainbow flag with a burnt corner.

Connor then looked at the corner bookshelf with different trophies on it- mostly second place in track and first place in various dance competitions, and also photos from plays he was in.

What is noticeable is that there is only one bed. That was fine with Connor as he didn't actually need to sleep, but he'd probably end up at least sitting beside Gavin.

He places his suitcase down on the ground in front of the bed, and the duffle on it. "Alright, guess it's time for you to meet them," Gavin says.

Gavin doesn't even look at Connor as he takes his hand, leading him out and back down the stairs.

He leads them into a square living room that has mismatched metal furniture. He notes the seating is plush and looks very comfortable. The floor is wood and the walls are painted and decorated with a wallpaper border.

The whole room is done in warm colors and overall has an elegant look. He scans the faces and stops on one, going rigid.

"Ah, Connor. What a pleasant surprise. It's been a while since I've seen you last. Congratulations on the successful revolution, you all exceeded my expectations." Kamski says, standing and stepping forward.

Connor's really glad he's holding onto Gavin's hand already. If he wasn't he definitely would have grabbed it and he wouldn't have known how to explain himself

"Kamski. I- I had no idea you were related to Gavin. He mentioned you, but never by name." He hears Gavin sigh, but he squeezes Connor's hand just slightly.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to have been able to see your reaction. Deviants are so fascinating. I wonder what else we'll learn about each other." Kamski takes another step forward towards them.

Gavin rolls his eyes and uses his free hand to slap the back of his brother's head. "Stop being so damn cryptic. He's here as my date. Speaking of, where the hell is Chloe?"

There's a rustling from where he assumes is the kitchen then Chloe quickly walking in and saving. "Sorry, sorry. Was helping with some prep. Gavin, you look well." She said, stepping up to give him a half hug.

She turns to Connor and her eyebrows raise. Connor still remembers the feel of Kamski's hand as he pointed a gun at another Chloe. She wasn't the same one, but it still brought the memory back.

"Connor, thank you for helping free our people." She says with a warm smile. He scans her and has to blink a few times. She's the first one. She's the original Chloe. It shouldn't surprise him that much, and he looks at where Kamski has a protective arm around her and his eyebrows raise.

So Kamski was with Chloe. He didn't know for how long, but that was definitely interesting. Had she always been deviant? Did Kamski plan for the revolution?

He then turned when a young woman made herself known. She has a square face with a pointed chin, a small nose, small ears, and small lips. Her blue eyes are prominent, and she has thin eyebrows.

Her hair is black, dip-dyed almost the full length with shades of green is medium-length- thick and un-styled.

She also has pierced her right nostril with a shiny green gem in it. There’s also a tribal tattoo across her chest that he can see behind her strapless spring dress.

She nodded to Connor before walking up and flipping off Gavin. Gavin just flips her off in return with a grin. "Sup, fucker. And nice to meet you, Connor, I'm Kassia but just call me Kas." She holds out her hand to shake, which Connor does.

"Right! I'm glad you all met. Be nice to each other or else." Shona says sending a glare at each before turning away and walking back to the kitchen.

It's slightly awkward just standing there, and thankfully Gavin takes the lead. He pulls Connor into the couch, sitting so close he's practically on top of him.

Kamski and Chloe sit close together and Kas sits on the rocking chair, pulling out her phone.

"So, Connor, the last time I saw you you were still denying your deviancy. Obviously, you got past that, how have you been?" Kamski asks. Chloe huffs beside him and flicks his cheek.

Connor can't help the small smile at seeing the two interact. It was so different than how he had treated the Chloes at his house, that must have been somewhat of an act.

"I've been well. After the revolution, Gavin and I got together. He's helped me quite a lot with discovering new emotions." He smiles and glances at Gavin, giving him a wink before turning back to Kamski.

Kamski is staring at the two of them like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

[Probability of family finding out the truth: 47%]

"Right. Well, I'm happy for you. You did eventually find Jericho, without my help. I'd say congratulations on that, but we both know you didn't originally go there with the purest intentions." For that Chloe smacks him on the back of his head just like Gavin had done.

Kamski rubs his head and sighs, "I didn't mean it like that. I know he wasn't in control, obviously. Just trying to make conversation."

"Well, you’re shit at it." Gavin and Kas say at the same time. They both shot each other a glance before snickering.

"So mean, you see what I have to deal with? Maybe now that you're here someone will finally appreciate me." Kamski sighs dramatically. Chloe just playfully glares at Kamski. "Also, call me Elijah, Connor."

That will definitely be hard. This is the man that created him, creates his whole species. He may have even created deviancy. Calling him by his first name just seemed… odd.

But, he would do it anyway, "alright, Elijah."

Connor is momentarily distracted when Gavin leans his head on Connor's shoulder, playing with their intertwined fingers. Connor watches then turns and places a kiss onto Gavin's head.

Gavin looks up, slightly surprised before smiling. He leans up and presses a quick kiss to Connor's cheek.

He feels his core start to heat up and takes a few slow breaths. "Fucking hell, you two are sappier than Elijah and Chloe." Kas gripes from her chair.

Connor flushed and tried to hide his face, which just brings him closer to Gavin. That definitely doesn't help his blush, at all.

"If you two start having sex on the couch I will leave." Kas whines.

"I would watch if you weren't fucking my brother." Another slap to the head from Chloe.

Connor turned even more blue, trying to get smaller. He had expected a lot of things. Hearing his creator say he'd watch him have sex with someone wasn't one of them.

"Fucking ow. He's pretty, you can't deny that. Gavin got a good one. Actually, the highest advanced model there currently is." Kamski says, pouting at Chloe.

Gavin growled and clung to Connor even more, glaring at Kamski. "Calm down, Gavinator I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend."

[Probability of family finding out the truth: 45%]

"Fucking koala." Kas mumbles. Gavin flips her off again and she does the same right back.

Gavin nuzzles into the crook of Connor's neck and he has to control himself from reacting.

He is ace, but he still would react when touched in a typically sexual manner. So he clamps his mouth shut and gently strokes Gavin's hair.

"You're really warm," Gavin mumbles, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes.

Connor couldn't help but chuckle, "of course I am, you know that." He tries to get his point across and it seems to work. Gavin's eyes got wider and he glanced at Kamski.

He's thankfully distracted by braiding Chloe's hair. It still shocked Connor to see Kamski so… human, as ironic as that is.

Chloe, however, was paying attention and she just subtly tilted her head at him.

‘He doesn't know, does he?’ He hears her voice in his head ask.

He glances down at Gavin, then back to Chloe, shaking his head just enough for the other to see. ‘No. He lied and said he had a boyfriend, but didn't. Then asked if I would pretend to be his.’

It wasn't like he could lie now, somehow she had figured it out. That was even more frustrating than he anticipated. He was supposed to be the most advanced model, yet he was found out within the hour from the first android.

‘You should tell him. Neither one of you is good at hiding it.’ He honestly wasn't sure what that meant. Could she see that Gavin didn't actually like him? It hurt, it hurt so much, but he had to keep a straight face.

That completely flew out the window when Gavin pressed a quick kiss to his neck. He jolted and grabbed Gavin's hips, sending him a glare.

Gavin just looked up at him with an innocent smile, like he hadn't done anything wrong.

His neck and the around his thirium pump were extra sensitive, though he wasn't sure why. He did have more wires there, so maybe that was it.

"Mom! Connor and Gavin are gonna have sex on the couch!" Kas calls out.

Shona pokes her head around the corner and points at them with a spoon. "None of that. Want to do that, find a hotel or at least do it quietly in your room."

"Sorry, Ma'am," Connor says right as Gavin also speaks.

"Right, sorry Mom."

"Connor, it's Shona or Mom, don't call me that ma'am bullshit." He was slightly surprised how similar Gavin's stepmom was to Gavin. She also reminded him, somewhat, of Hank.

Connor nodded quickly, and she smiled at him before going back into the kitchen.

"Kas, I know a lot about Kams-Elijah, but not much about you. What do you do for a living?" He could pull up her file, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Lawyer. Yeah, shocking. I liked arguing so much I made it my job." Kamski snorts at that. "Shut it, Eli. Anyway, I've got my own firm and everything. I mostly work the big cases, but recently I focused on helping out androids. It's not much, but I try."

Connor felt like hugging her. He hadn't expected any of Gavin's family to be so supportive, but he was glad to see they were. Not too surprising since Kamski was the one who made them.

"That's very sweet of you, and if you're willing- I can tell Markus and I'm sure he'd appreciate the help." They had android lawyers, but it could help to have a human one.

Kas smiled and nodded her head quickly. "Yes! I'd love that! Thank you."

Connor nodded and already started writing a message to Markus. He and Markus had gotten close after the revolution, so it wasn't odd for the two of them to message each other throughout the day.

"Gav… grandma will be here tomorrow, just wanted to warn you." Someone says. Connor jumps slightly and looks over.

He scans him and comes back with a name: Frank L. Reed. Standing 5' 5" tall, he has a serious feel about him. He has an oval face, a narrow nose, and narrow lips. His pale grey eyes are hooded and he has thick eyebrows. He has short, greasy, brown hair and a receding hairline.

He feels Gavin stiffen and looks down at him. He looks around and sees that Kas, Kamski, and Chloe are all sitting up straight.

They didn't seem afraid, it seemed more like habit, though they did all scowl at the mention of their grandmother.

"Right, thanks," Gavin says, giving a small nod to his dad. Frank looks around and Connor and see a very small smile on his face as he looks over his children.

His smile drops when he looks at Chloe, then Connor. "Chloe, and Connor? Good for you to both come." His voice is clipped but Connor can tell he won't pick a fight. Good enough for him.

"I'm glad to be here. It's an honor to meet you, sir." Connor says, trying to be as open as possible with Gavin clinging to him like his life depended on it.

Frank hums, then turns his attention to Kamski, "Shona in the kitchen?" Kamski nods and the smile is back on Frank's face as he heads towards the kitchen.

Once he's out of earshot everyone goes back to how they were before, Gavin being completely slumped against Connor.

"He's not the fondest of androids being alive. I think it's just… well, he sees things very black and white. It's hard for him to think of a machine as alive." Kas sighs.

Not surprising, but he did seem like a good man. He didn't have a criminal record either. "That's fine. I'm just glad he didn't kick me out," he chuckled. "Or try to shoot me," he mumbled.

Gavin tensed but looked up with a worried expression. Connor rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. He really didn't blame Gavin for that. He was actually glad he tried to stop him as he had found it helped lead him to deviate.

"There's definitely a story there. Gavin, did you try to actually kill Connor? I bet he used his… negotiation skills quite well." Kamski snickered.

Chloe turned and glared at Kamski before sighing and letting it go. "I wasn't actually deviant yet, though I had tendencies. Gavin had come to stop me while I was attempting to find Jericho. It ended with him on the ground, and not in the fun way."

Kas snorted and smiled at Connor. "Hell yeah. Sucks he had to do that, but good job at fucking him up. Wait… fuck, not like that. Ugh!" Kas dropped her phone and started scrubbing at her eyes. "I did not need that mental image."

Gavin snorted and rolled his eyes at his sister. "You're the one that said it. And yeah, he did fuck me up. And then later he very mercilessly fucked me up."

Kas's face pulled like she just ate a lemon, which he didn't blame her for. He was blushing at the implications and he knew that if he had a brother he wouldn't want to hear about his sex life. He didn't even want to hear about his own pretend sex life.

"Gavin!" He scolded, pinching at the skin where his arm held him. Gavin yelped then started crackling.

It was probably one of the cutest things he's ever heard. It wasn’t soft or angelic, but gruff and unrestrained. He'd heard Gavin chuckle and scoff before, but it was never like this, so open.

Gavin's laughter was infectious and soon Connor started snorting then full-on laughing with him. This caused him to curl slightly into himself, squeezing Gavin.

Kas then started snickering and Kamski rolled his eyes but smiled at them.

There was this… warm feeling in his chest. He felt it before, with Hank and Sumo, but it was still jarring. He knew nothing was wrong, and his temperature didn't even go up. So, it was an emotion.

He'd brought it up to Markus one night after it had gotten almost overwhelming.

Hank, him and Sumo had decided to visit Jericho. They had sat together and laughed, and surprisingly North and Hank got along well. Well, better than well. It was actually very amusing to watch.

He had watched and felt that warmth bubble up, and at the end of the night, he had to pull Markus aside. Markus had always said that he could come to him with any questions. So he asked.

Markus had nodded and smiled softly before pulling Connor into a hug. "Family and belonging." Was all he had said.

It made sense, he thought of all of them as a family and he no longer feared not being accepted. The people of Jericho made it quite clear that they accepted and forgave him.

So he currently felt that warmth and he hadn't realized he stopped laughing when he noticed Gavin's had died out.

He knew he must look stupid with the fond stare he was giving Gavin, just holding him. He also worried that Gavin would be able to tell that this wasn't fake. Androids could do a lot of things, but they could never fake love.

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