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falcatrecon · 2 years

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Kinktober day 8

voice kink/begging The Host, gender neutral reader

“The Reader’s hands caress across their thighs.” The Host’s voice was a low rumble from where he sat that sent shivers up your spine. You loved hearing it narrate what you were doing. He didn’t try to use his control over you often anymore, simply satisfied to experience you as you were. “They work their fingers along the edge of their underwear, sliding it down to expose more of their skin.” You were taking your time on purpose, letting his voice simply wash over you.

“The Reader stops teasing at their hip to slide upwards to their shirt, slowly lifting it. They drag it over their head before setting it aside.” He smiles softly at his next words. “They look at the Host, admiring him.” He was in narrating mode, so it was simply an observation of the truth. “They shift how they sit, leaning closer to him. Their fingertips ghost along their lips, their mind on just where those lips could go.” You watched the Host shift at the echoes of those thoughts. You had wondered just how much he could pick up from you if you tried hard enough.

“The Reader’s hands return to their skin, trailing along their chest and stomach, fingers returning to the edge of their underwear. They stop.” He frowned. “Their hands slide past to touch their thighs again. The Host is suspecting the Reader is teasing him on purpose.” You couldn’t help the soft laugh at that. He wasn’t completely wrong. “The Reader’s hands come back to their underwear, finally pulling them down, displaying themselves for the Host.”

“Their hands give one slow stroke to their arousal before sliding back up their body.” His next words were deeper, born of his frustration. “The Reader comes closer.” You found yourself compelled to step nearer to him.

Your upset frown was fake, you enjoyed driving him this far. “You promised you’d give up control.”

He took a long, deep breath, centering himself. “The Host is apologetic, but the Reader is being overly teasing.” He gestured with his hands for you to come even closer.

You obliged, but still stayed just shy of his reach. “You have such a wonderful voice I just want to keep doing things to keep you talking.”

“Then let me tell you what to do, my audience.” He leaned forward, reaching out and trailing the barest tips of his fingers across your hip. “It is the Host’s job to guide you to your purpose.”

You shook your head. “No.” You leaned forward to kiss his lips, melting the frown away. His hands came up to cradle your backside. You broke the kiss with a smile. “Let me.”

The Host sighed fondly, taking up his narration once more. “The Reader’s kiss lingered on the Host’s lips as they continued to tease him.” You couldn’t help the smirk at his frustration. “Their hands finally began to work at the Host’s coat, undoing the buttons. They are being agonizingly slow about it, likely wishing to hear the Host talk about each button individually… But it is not the buttons that has the Host’s attention, it is the way their nimble fingers work and how he wishes they would use them on himself.”

“Now the Reader kneels before him as they reach further down, getting the very last of the buttons. They push it aside, considering the shirt before them. The Host wishes he had worn something a little less complicated.” He huffs a small sigh. “At least now the Reader is grazing his skin as they work on the new set of buttons, getting ever so closer to what he wishes to have.” His hands brush delicately across your arms and shoulders, keeping generally out of your way. “The Reader moves his shirt aside to admire the skin revealed, letting their hands skate across his body.” His voice trembled slightly, anticipation obvious on his face. You loved how you could get him like this, how each new modulation in his voice made your body begin to burn with a need for him.

The Host’s smile widened. “The Reader wants him, needs him. Perhaps they will allow him to oblige?” You lean forward, ignoring his cajoling. “Now their mouth is exploring the planes of his body, lips trailing along his ribcage up to his pecs.” His hands slid up your back into your hair, but being mindful not to tug or bind. “Their mouth covers their nipple and… Ah... t-their tongue flicks across it.” He squirmed under the attention, but still valiantly narrating. “Their other hand teases the Host’s other bud, r-rolling it.” He swallowed another gasp, fingers digging into your scalp. “Their hands relax on the attention, working at the Host’s pants.”

You back down from teasing his chest to concentrate on the task at hand. “The Host is left without their attention once more, waiting in anticipation as the Reader works his pants open. They tug his underwear down, looking with lust upon his interested cock.” You grin, purposefully changing tactics. “They for some reason leave him untouched, instead running their hands along his clothed thighs. Their fingers do massage nicely, pressing closer and closer to their final goal.” He was beginning to sound a bit frustrated. “The Reader leans forward, but not to put their mouth where it should go, but instead to nip at his hips, hands resting on the top of his thighs now. They b-bite down, making him want them all the more.” He rolled his hips up against your mouth, a soft moan punctuating his sentence.

That alone made you tremble a little, so you relented to his words. “The Reader’s hand finally strokes the Host’s erection, their mouth leaving soft kisses along his stomach. Their movements are slow and pleasurable, but so agonizing. They know what he wants and are being a tease about it.” You couldn’t help a soft laugh against his skin, still not quite giving in. “Their strokes somehow get even slower, which the Host wasn’t sure was even possible.” You looked up at him, enjoying the mix of pleasure and consternation across his face. “The Host… asks. Please.” He looked down at you to meet your stare with his bandages. While he might not be able to see directly, you knew he could still watch you all the same. “The Host wants… no, needs the Reader’s attention.” His next words were soft. “I need my audience.”

“As long as you continue to talk.” You leave one last soft kiss against his hip.

He gasps softly before trying to narrate. “T-The Reader’s mouth finally wraps around his dick, slowly sinking down, surrounding him in their warmth. Their tongue -ah- undulates against the underside, coaxing him further down the path of pleasure.” His dick twitched in your mouth, and you could tell he was trying very hard not to push you further down on him. “Their pace is still slow as they begin to move, their,” he gasped again, “their trickster tongue finding the sensitive underside of his tip.” You couldn’t help but squirm a little where you knelt, his words dripping with lust, each interruption in his speech caused by your touches.

“The Host finds that they are turned on by his words just as seductive, so he continues to t-try and narrate as the Reader dips down again, adding a b-bit of suction this time.” His hips involuntarily twitched upward, causing you to moan around him. “The vibrations of their voice echoes through him, adding more fire to his nerves. The Reader coaxes him to move with them, purposefully m-moaning around him this time.” His fingers tightened in your hair as he lost his words for a short moment as you worked. “The Host is pulled deeper into their mouth... mm... so that he is completely inside.” It was a gift the Host had inadvertently given you, having proclaimed you had no gag reflex once. “The Reader bobs, moving… faster…” His words were clipped, his concentration on narration difficult to maintain with your mouth. “His p-pleasure is building. He-” he gasped, pulling you down on him reflexively as he came down your throat. “T-the Reader s-swallows around the Host, ah, dragging his orgasm out.” You whine around him, getting him to twitch in your mouth again. “Their tongue drags across s-sensitive flesh as they pull free, leaving fire in their wake.”

As soon as you are free he hauls you up for a sharp kiss. “The Host will take his control back and return the favor. The Reader has no need to worry, he won’t stop talking them through it.”

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chouxtranslations · 5 months

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Shizun 021 - Poor colleague

It was the first time that Lu Yunzhen had used a sword, but it felt natural, as if he’s done it thousands of times and carved it into his nature. Even without any special moves he forced the wraith back into the server.

He Mengmeng asked worriedly, “can we disconnect it from the internet?”

“Worth a try.” Lu Yunzhen jogged over and pulled out the cable. He looked inside the server room again and all kinds of code was dashing madly across the screens. He shook his head. “It’s no use, it’s controlling the server and using resentful energy to make a new connection. The soul itself has been externally copied.”

Master Wuming has performed countless exorcisms in his decades, and this is the first time that he has discovered xuanxue that he didn’t understand…

Mo Changkong didn’t understand it either, but that didn’t stop his praises. “Shizun is so correct.”

Servers are some kind of delicate magical tool that can make fun games. It should be very expensive and he didn’t want to do something and accidentally break it.

Lu Yunzhen looked at the code and realized it wasn’t gibberish. This wraith is the dead programmer who made a trojan and was controlling the server and his own movements logically.

He gave it a thought… Taking out a small flashdrive from his backpack, he plugged in and ran the newest antivirus developed by a compsci professor in his university. It had garnered international prizes and the patent was ready, it just hadn’t gone on market yet. The professor really liked Lu Yunzhen’s programming talent and had helped to tutor him one on one, including letting him join in on some programming work, that’s why he had a copy.

This was brought for the server…

Lu Yunzhen turned on the antivirus. His fingers flew through a series of actions to quickly trap the viruses. Realizing he couldn’t kill the viruses outright he started to limit its area of activity and force it into a corner.

The programmer wraith has felt its pride being taunted and started to program in fury in response…

All kinds of code flew across the computers.

Hong Zhi stared stunned at the long battle of programmer, suddenly gaining a deeper understanding of his master’s teachings to abstain from anger. The wraith has already forgotten that it’s dead and is fighting via code instead of the supernatural.

The server room was silent but for the sound of the keyboard.

The programmer used to have a 400 thousand salary with high skills and plenty of experience. However, Lu Yunzhen was nimble minded with a good technical foundation and had the protection of the professor’s overpowered software.

After more than a dozen minutes, Lu Yunzhen gained the upper hand and started to limit the range of the wraith’s movement. After locking it inside one server, he took the chance when it was focused on the antivirus and waved at Mo Changkong, “Get him!”

Mo Changkong has long been keeping an eye on the wraith. Confirming that all the resentful energy was gathered, he reached out and forcibly dragged the wraith out by the tail with his bare hands. Chaining it up, he held it down to the ground and started beating it up.

His entire body is a weapon, for a recently formed spirit like this his fists are enough…

The wraith was beaten to howling, and finally revealed its true appearance. He was a skinny man with a plain face and thinning hair. He yelled at Lu Yunzhen, “You shameless cheater!”

Mo Changkong was infuriated and immediately ripped him to pieces.

Wraiths don’t have a physical form and can simply reform after being torn apart, but their souls will get severely damaged. He was terrified and didn’t dare to insult him again.

“What are you saying? This isn’t a programming contest.” Lu Yunzhen was confused at the insults. He pointed at his tang dynasty costume and peachwood sword, “I’m here for an exorcism.”

The wraith was confused and felt wronged. “This isn’t what exorcisms look like in the movies…”

“Yes,” Hong Zhi agreed quietly, “what kind of cultivators act like you…”

Lu Yunzhen does feel like he’s bringing shame to cultivation and felt a little embarrassed, “It’s a side gig.”

Hong Zhi tugged at the corner of his mouth. “And what’s your main job?”

Lu Yunzhen was even more embarrassed. “Programmer.”

The worldview of the little shami was shattered.

“All paths lead to one. If one performs good and cuts down evil, what need is there to insist on ceremony?” Master Wuming patted his dear disciple on his bald head in comfort. “After we go back you should get this teacher a smart phone and study the internet, so we don’t fall behind the times.”

Hong Zhi immediately agreed. He thinks that he should properly listen to his shifu and shishus and study properly.

The wraith looked at the room full of cultivators, then at Mo Changkong’s fist. Realizing that the situation is against him, he decided to destroy the body left in the server room and escape with what he can. He’s a programmer wraith after all, there were several off site backups of his soul… Even if he was heavily wounded as long as the backups were there he can slowly recover.

He quickly started the self destruct program.

Lu Yunzhen noticed and said urgently, “He’s trying to make a run for it.”

He had already noticed that the wraith had made backups. But the web is wide and he has no idea where the backup would be. Maybe it’s a computer, maybe it’s a phone. Eitherway it would be a hopeless hunt.

“Worry not, Shizun. It’s a simple split body technique. Plenty of spirits know these tricks, it’s nothing to worry about.” Mo Changkong grabbed the wraith, ripped it into black mist, and swallowed with a savage smile. “I know your scent now. Don’t think that the ends of the earth would be enough to run away from me.

When his soul was being shattered and swallowed, he felt an immense fear. It was as if he was a mouse in a palm. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Every backup had been expose and it would only take a little time to pluck out each one and turn them to ashes.

He apologized while shaking. “I’m sorry, I was wrong.”

Mo Changkong ordered. “Stop self destructing and bring back the backups.”

He wouldn’t dare refuse and did so dutifully. At the same time he fixed the software in the server room hoping the deed could offset some of the punishment.

Mo Changkong had swallowed quickly with secretive methods, but Lu Yunzhen had noticed anyway. He saw Shizun’s conflicted expression, finally realized his promise to not randomly eat dirty things anymore, and quickly promised to brush his teeth several times when they go home.

Lu Yunzhen figured out that eating these things is actually not harmful but rather helpful to Mo Changkong and gave up on education. Instead he decided to go to the supermarket and buy a few bottles of mouthwash…

The two sat in front of the computer while waiting for the wraith to collect its backups and chatted about mouthwash flavours. He Mengmeng bravely chimed in that men like kissing after using fruity mouthwash and that Lu Yunzhen seemed to like eating peaches. Mo Changkong understood immediately, and answered that he will make money to buy peaches for Shizun as thanks for the gifts that he had given him…

Lu Yunzhen was very touched. What more could a master ask for with a disciple like this?

The wraith had finished collecting the backups. Seeing the nice atmosphere in the room he made an attempt to plead. “Master, you’re a programmer too, please let me go.”

“Don’t worry.” Lu Yunzhen remembered the rules of wujian peak. Spirits that hadn’t hurt people deserve a chance to live, and he felt sorry for this poor college who worked to death. He continued comfortingly. “The one beside me is a great monk from Yanlai temple. He’s very strong and specializes in helping spirits move on. Just wait for him to send you to the underworld, pay for your crimes properly, reincarnate, and in another 20 years you can be a good programmer.”

Master Wuming immediately chanted and said, “I can’t afford such compliments…”

He was sure that these two cultivators are both extraordinarily skilled masters. He didn’t know why they were wondering around the mortal realm while hiding themselves and doing good deeds. He was a monk after all, he never asks asks after people’s personal businesses. Whether it be truth or lies, all is void. All he needs to do is follow their orders.

He ordered Hong zhi to help him reset the sigils for passing on.

The wraith was throwing a tantrum. “No, I don’t want to reincarnate. I hate! I can’t accept this!”

Master Wuming tried to advise him with a sigh. “Let go of your resentment, settle your link, let go of your desire, and you can achieve correctness.”

The wraith still wanted to resist, and the dark mist started spreading it. Master Wuming felt helpless against the stubbornness. They had said that they can bring the ghost back to the temple and recite sutras until the resentment dissipated, but a stubborn spirit can take many years.

The record at the temple was a soul that took 300 years of chanting before it agreed to reincarnate…

Lu Yunzhen thought that was rather terrible and tried to save his colleague. “What are you resenting?”

“Save me.” The wraith grasped at him like a life saving straw. “You’re a programmer too, you definitely understand my pain!”

Lu Yunzhen became more curious and asked him to explain.

Long Jingtian also jogged over. He pestered Master Wuming until he agreed to open his ying yang eyes so he can join the fun. He mengmeng thought about it for a while. She decided that since it was her employee she can’t let things go just in case it was workplace harassment or anything. She gritted her teeth, also opened her ying yang eyes, and joined in.

…

The wraith was named Zhao Anxiang. He was from a poor family but studied hard and worked for Panda tech for 8 years as a programmer. He worked hard and did overtime every day until he became a small time manager with a yearly income of 40 thousand. Finally he died before the game launched.

Everyone looked at the director who had workers do overtime.

“It was voluntary.” He Mengmeng explained hurriedly. “Our company has a perfect promotion and bonuses system. Our wages and benefits are both great, we didn’t mistreat any employees.”

Zhao Anxiang nodded in agreement. “Yes, director He is good to us and the overtime pay is very high, I did it willingly…”

Lu Yunzhen was feeling very lured by the conversation and wanted to ask He xuejie if they’re hiring. But he held on with difficulty to save face.

“I grew up poor, studied hard, worked hard. It was all so I can buy a house in the big city and get a wife.” Zhao Anxiang was overflowing with painful resentment as he continued. “I finally got a good position after doing overtime everyday and people were feeling envious of my position… but I died before getting a girlfriend! I won’t accept it! I won’t!”

“That’s it?” He Mengmeng was annoyed at the nothing burger of a long winded explanation. “What does your lack of a girlfriend have to do with the game servers?!”

“Of course it does!” Zhao Anxiang shot back angrily. “I worked so hard on this code. I’ve never even touched a girl’s hand. My everyday life was just overtime and instant ramen! What gives all these assholes the right to flirt in my games?! Even elementary students are showing off?!”

That’s why he would hang out in the game every day and kill the servers every time he saw people flirting online. How dare they flirt instead of playing the game properly, building parties, and doing raids?!

He hates it…. He hates it….

Listening to this tragic fate, Lu Yunzhen felt his heart hurt. He seemed to see a mirror into his future, where every day he worked overtime coding, got takeout hotdog instant ramen, and died alone…

That’s terrible…

He wanted to help this poor colleague.

“I want a girlfriend.” Zhao Anxiang bawled. “It’s just a small wish, if I can get out of being single I wouldn’t have any resentment left.”

Master Wuming tried to persuade him. “Lust is emptiness, emptiness is lust.”

Zhao Anxiang replied angrily. “What would a monk know?! Men have to lust!”

“You’re dead, where are you going to find someone to date?” He Mengmeng also joined in. “How about I help with the funeral rites, burn some extra joss paper, and give you a good employee review?”

He cried even harder.

Lon Jingtian had a flash of dumb inspiration. “Can we get him a girlfriend”

Hong Zhi asked, “from where?”

“Are there any women at the temple?”

Hong Zhi almost hit him with his wooden fish.

“There should be female ghosts in the underworld, right?” Lu Lu Yunzhen got new ideas from the conversation. “It would be a good match. Let’s ask and see if anyone’s interested?”

Zhao Anxiang stopped crying and looked with eyes full of hope.

Mo Changkong answered in the affirmative. “It’s a rare privilege to have Shizun be a matchmaker. There should be many female ghosts who are willing. You can send a letter to ask.”

“Ma-matchmaker?” Hong Zhi looked at the two dumbfounded. What are they saying? He wanted to refute it but he remembered that his face still hurts. He’s scared of pain…

He sought answers from his master, only to see that his master had disassociated fully to the point where he thought everything was normal.

His master is nearing buddahood.

He’s still far away…

#shizun #feng yu nie

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desperationandgin · 4 years

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Deep in My Soul: The Cellist Series Part 4

Rating: General Audiences

Also Read On: Ao3

Summary: Jamie and Claire are separated, but Claire finds a way to cope.

A/N: So, the Cellist series began in December, as part of the Winter of Want collection. Because I needed something Christmas based and it was Jamie and Claire's first meeting, it just happened to work out that each month was happening in real time. Therefore, it's currently April 2020 in this series. Which means Jamie and Claire are having to detail with COVID-19 just like everyone else. I know, I know.

ALSO, this is very belated birthday gift to @missclairebelle. I first brainstormed these beautiful babies in a group chat with you and @smashing-teacups. You keep me smutty and honest, K ♥️

Deep in my Soul: Cellist Series Part 4

Claire hasn’t seen Jamie in twenty days. Not face-to-face, not for an embrace or a kiss. When the virus began to spread, and Scotland issued shelter-in-place orders, it was Jamie who’d had to continue doing his job. Rescue personnel would always be essential, and because of the risks, Jamie made the decision for both of them to stay at the firehouse until further notice. They spoke every day, multiple times, and FaceTime was a blessing, but that didn’t make up for the fact that neither of them had the other to collapse with.

He’d only moved in with her on the first of March, and they’d managed two weeks of finding their new normal only to have it turned upside down. Claire had no idea how the apartment she’d lived in for years by herself could suddenly feel so empty without him.

The daylight hours have been filled easily enough; moving his things in forced her to purge some of her own and organize the closets. She works on the balcony garden and finally gets around to cleaning all of the cupboards. There are books to read and television shows to binge (the trashier things she only watches with Sesh as her witness). On the morning of the twentieth day, she begins teaching herself how to knit, but it comes to a stop once Sesh runs off with the end of her yarn. There are plenty of things to keep her busy during the day, but at night, after supper for one and something mindless on Youtube, all she can do is count down the minutes until Jamie’s call before bed.

Sesh arrives in the living room from down the hall, arching her back in a stretch before jumping gracefully onto the couch. Rather than go to Claire, the black cat plops down on top of a blanket Jamie brought when he moved in.

“Traitor,” Claire murmurs, but there’s an unmistakable lump in her throat. “I miss him too.”

As soon as the phone vibrates in her hand, she swipes to answer, greeted by an extreme close up of Jamie’s… she blinks, squints and, as he pulls back, realizes it’s only his finger accidentally in front of the camera.

“I thought Sesh and I were about to be scandalized,” she quips with a grin as his face finally comes into view.

“Wha?” he asks, clearly distracted as he nods at someone she can’t see, and a door closes somewhere behind him.

“Nothing, love,” she replies, smile fading a bit. “Is everything alright?”

The endearment is all he needs to fully focus on her, feeling the warmth of her even through the phone. Jamie gives her an apologetic smile. “Do ye ken how restless people are getting, Sassenach? ‘Tis only busier by the day, and I’ve agreed to pick up another shift.”

“You look exhausted.” She squints at his features on the screen. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Only just woke. I’m no’ even sure what day it is anymore. Is it mornin’ or night?” He asks his question in half-jest with a sleepy smile. “I rolled over and called ye, that’s all I ken.”

“It’s a quarter to ten at night. You go on at midnight, then?” she asks, her heart still catching up to the knowledge that he’s essentially started his day with her.

Checking a piece of paper he pulls out of his pocket, he nods. “Aye. Which means I have a bit of time wi’ ye. How was day infinity of yer self-isolation?”

“I’ve given up on knitting indefinitely. Sesh supports this decision, just so you know.”

Jamie grins. “Fine wi’ me. I like being the knitter in the family.”

With one sentence, her heart leaps at the promise of endless days with Jamie coming home to her, his family. It makes their separation now seem small, an obstacle to overcome together and look back on as the time they knew forever was certain.

“As long as you promise to knit me a blanket in your spare time. Whenever that may be,” Claire adds with sympathy in her voice.

“Technically, I have some time now, but I would rather spend it speaking wi’ ye, mo nighean donn. Unless ye go to sleep on me.” He calls her after every shift - her rule, even if they only speak for a few moments, and she’s fallen asleep often enough that he now has a folder on his phone entirely of screenshots as proof.

“I’m not falling asleep,” she promises. “I miss you too much.”

His face softens as he leans forward, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his thighs. “I ken. Christ, I miss ye, too. To kiss ye right now, Sassenach, would be heaven.”

“I would settle for your arms around me.” She never was someone who appreciated the value of a good hug. Not until Jamie wrapped her in his arms for the first time and she’d pressed in against the solid warmth of him. There was no going back then, and without him, there’s been a gnawing hollowness growing around her heart.

Everything she feels passes on her face, and Jamie feels frustration tug at him, recklessness and duty warring with one another as if the angel and devil were on his shoulders. “I promise, when this is over, I’m putting in for the time away and you and I are going somewhere verra remote and verra beachy.”

That pulls a smile from her, and Claire settles in on the couch. “So far, I’m very much enjoying this idea. Beaches and the ocean do sound appealing.” She hums. “The Maldives?”

“Aye, that sounds obnoxious enough to brag about when we’re home,” he agrees, enjoying the way she tosses her head back and laughs.

“I’ll start looking into it,” she promises once she’s recovered. “How have you been feeling?”

“Och, fine. Ready to sleep in my own bed again. Ready to stay in it wi’ ye for at least three days.”

“Don’t tease,” Claire groans, sighing softly as Sesh, who has apparently had enough of the conversation, jumps gracefully to the floor. For a moment, Claire’s eyes follow her cat all the way to the cello case in the corner. Jamie is saying something she’s missing as an idea slowly comes to her.

“Are you going to be busy in half an hour?” she interrupts, looking at him.

He squints at the camera. “I figured I would still be talking to ye in half an hour, Sassenach.” Confusion etches his features as he watches the wheels turn on her face. “Why?”

“I’ll call you back. Half hour,” she promises.

The video cuts off before he can get another word in, and Jamie stares at his phone, confused but not worried as he stands and stretches. He takes the time to wash up and eat something, and he’s finishing a sandwich she dropped off for him earlier in the week when she calls back. But it isn’t video this time, and he brings the phone to his ear. He doesn’t even have a chance to speak.

“Come outside.”

He doesn’t move as his mind tries to process what it is she’s asking. “Do what?”

“Jamie, come outside.”

The smile in her voice and the realization of what she’s saying both hit at the same time, and he’s on his feet, phone still stupidly to his ear. Leaving the building, he walks out into the car park, and there she is. She’s wearing the same black dress she always wears for concerts, but she’s makeup-free, curls loose and tumbling over her shoulders. Cello between her thighs, the light from the quarter moon is enough to make her glow, ethereal in the dark. There’s the space of a small vehicle between them - not close enough to touch, but near enough to see her face.

Claire smiles at him, takes in the look of sheer shock on his face, and begins to play. It’s a relatively known piece, at least the beginning - a Bach suite in G. She closes her eyes, the memorized piece falling away from the Prelude and segueing into Allermande.

As Jamie watches, he slips his phone into his pocket, and when she doesn’t stop playing, one hand moves over his mouth in shock and surprise. To play for him at home is one thing, but as the music swells and echoes in the night, his colleagues wander out in curiosity to watch and listen. She sways with the music, moves her body as if she’s the instrument and the cello is merely a tool for the notes to pour out of. She plays and the audience grows, but when she opens her eyes before beginning Courante, she only looks at him.

There may be others watching, but this moment is only for the two of them.

Vaguely, Claire is aware of the crowd, but her focus is intently on Jamie. She misses the nights after making love, curled on her side and tangled with him as they take one another in. His eyes are never so blue as they are after he’s spilled into her, loving her with every fiber of his being. Her eyes drift to his lips, missing the way he deftly and delicately moves over breasts, missing the way he claims her, strokes her.

She continues to play, and he continues to look right at her, moonlight catching the glint of burning gold in her eyes. He’s never wanted someone so badly and been denied it. His gaze finally drifts from hers to the long line of her leg, then up to watch the muscles of her bare arms, her nimble fingers moving as easily over the strings as they do along his body. By the time he reaches her face again, her eyes are closed once more. He realizes that she’s playing the entire piece, a full twenty minutes, and he brings a hand over his chest. The overwhelming love he has for her causes a tightness in his throat that he tries to swallow back, attempting to keep his emotions in check. He never did understand it, when people were moved to tears by music, but now he knows the feeling intimately, wiping away the dampness on his cheeks.

When the last note is carried off into the night, Claire finishes with her eyes closed and head bowed a bit. The applause snaps her out of it, smiling softly, almost shyly, as she stands and curtseys to Jamie’s co-workers.

“Alright, all of ye, go,” Jamie finally says, turning to usher everyone back inside, though he doesn’t miss the soft smooching sounds coming from Angus, shoving him in the back jovially as he walks inside. Once he and Claire are finally alone again, he stands with his back to her for a moment, eyes trained on the door as he waits to be sure no one will return.

“Did you like it?”

When he turns, she’s already placed her cello and bow carefully in their case, and she’s watching him. She’s pulled her jacket from the back of the chair, arms loosely wrapped around herself, looking at him as if he holds the answer to every question she’s ever wondered in her life.

“What in God’s name sort of question is that?” he asks, a tone of amusement making a smile break wide on her face.

“Just checking.” She steps as close as she dares to and studies his face. “I miss you, Jamie Fraser.”

It goes against every instinct he has not to reach out and touch her, to kiss the longing right off her lips. “Aye. I miss ye too, Claire Randall.”

“This is better than FaceTime, but it still isn’t enough.”

“Anything less than being able to take ye in my arms isna enough,” he agrees.

They lapse into silence, studying one another’s full bodies for the first time in days. It’s a quiet appraisal that ends when she speaks again.

“When this is over, I would very much like for you to spend one of those three days off doing nothing but holding me while we plan our future vacation.”

He smiles easily, despite hating that he can’t reach out and pull her into a very thorough and appreciative kiss. “I can arrange that,” he promises. “For now, all I have is the promise of days spent doing nothing but sunbathing and making love to ye.”

Just the thought of him over her, loving her, is enough to make her skin flush with warmth. “You are a man of your word. I’m holding you to that.” Her voice suspiciously wavers, the longing for him turning into an emotional note in her voice.

“I swear it, a nighean,” he vows. “I’ll never stop loving ye.”

“I never doubted that.”

For a few heartbeats, they stand in one another’s orbit in shared silence before a gust of wind makes her wrap her arms tighter around herself.

“Ye should go, Sassenach. Go, be warm and cozy wi’ a cup of tea before bed,” he urges. “I’ll call ye when my shift is over, aye?” His voice is gentle, wishing he could reach out and push a curl behind her ear.

“I love you. I’ll cook tomorrow and bring a few nights’ worth of suppers. Any other requests?”

“Only to have ye, so home-cooked meals will have to do.” He pauses, studying her again and once more feeling emotion swell in his chest. “Thank ye. For coming here, for barin’ yerself.”

“No one could see me but you,” she says with conviction, eyes on him, unblinking. “That was only for you.”

Those times she’s played nude, when he could kiss along the supple curves of one side of her body in an attempt to drive her to distraction - those were the moments she conjured with her music, and he understands her immediately. “Soon, Sassenach. No’ tomorrow, but soon.”

“Until then, feel free to send me salacious text messages,” she quips, moving to gather the folding chair up, putting it in the boot of her car.

“Oh, aye? How salacious are we talking, Sassenach?”

Claire contemplates it as she puts her cello in the back seat, then turns to face him. “I wouldn’t mind a photo or two.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That could possibly be arranged.” Christ, this woman.

“I’ll see what I can do for you in return, Mr. Fraser,” she practically purrs. Then, with more seriousness, she blows him a kiss. “The best I can do for now.”

“I’ll take it,” Jamie says sincerely, his smile warm and tender. “Text me when ye get home?”

“I will.” She stands there, then takes a breath, huffing it out. “You have to go inside, or I can’t leave.”

Ducking his head, he smiles softly, then nods, accepting the burden of strength this time, knowing it will be her turn the next. “Goodnight, Sassenach. I love ye.”

“I love you. Be careful.”

Jamie turns to go, finally reciprocating her blown kiss.

“Always am.”

#outlander fic #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander #the cellist #my fic

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resetmypatientviolence · 6 years

Text

Caught (Drake x MC x Liam) [NSFW]

This is the prologue of a prologue, to a series I will be doing with my Poly!Au Drake x Jaela x Liam, tentatively titled as “Repercussions”. Release date TBD. I need a real plot first. It’s angsty.

Pairing/Characters: Drake x Jaela x Liam / Guest star: Damien Nazario

Word Count: 4,160

Rating: VERY NSFW

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Threesome, Exhibitionism-ish

Song Suggestion: While We’re Young-- Jhené Aiko

Description: The job was supposed to begin in two weeks, not tonight. But, it is. During his stakeout of the Drake “Smith”, and Jaela and Liam “Davis”, Damien gets a show he didn’t expect. He also didn’t expect to care for how... happy they are.

Note: After the Bloodbound scene, I wanted to write a PWP threesome and asked @boneandfur if she had any requests, as a thanks for letting me join in on the Daniel NSFW Alphabet. Her requests were: “The first one to come loses.”, “Do you like it when he watches?”, and that it’s in NYC and Damien’s doing a stakeout. I may have failed on the PWP content... but I think I delivered on the specifics. As per usual, NSFW content is under the cut and it is tagged long post. MASTERLIST

The job wasn’t supposed to begin for another two weeks. And it was supposed to be a hunt. Not… this, a surprise call from the boss in the middle of dinner telling him to get his ass in the field.

But with the money being offered, he obliged, stake-out bag around his shoulder in minutes and out the door he was, tracking the trio. Dinner and a bar down, they’re in the street—and she’s nearly skipping, kissing between the two men—then the men often kissing each other, freely. All three ignore the looks of others. His heart sinks.

So different from the last time he was paid to do this, watching the King and the American suitor. Last time, even he could sense the tension. But now… it’s gone. They’re so happy and in love and—“Yeah, they’re headed to the hotel,” he says, pressing the earpiece. “The same one the last time I had to stake them out.”

“Predictable idiots. Still have money, somehow, too,” says his boss and he grits his teeth. “Keep an eye on them Nazario. They’re not getting away, again. Cordonia’s paying me—us—too much to let the man who ruined it get away with it.”

Damien shakes his head, keeping his binoculars trained the three. They’re so, so happy.

“Sure thing, boss.”

Jaela’s almost drunk, that’s for fucking sure, but she doesn’t care. She grips Drake’s collar, New York sewage past them, and pulls him into a hot, open-mouthed kiss in the middle of the gum-stuck sidewalk. He kisses back, and Liam chuckles as his hand glides across their backs, directing them close to a wall. “You know we’re almost to the hotel, you two,” he says, eyeing Jaela’s calf, one wrapped around Drake’s.

She so loose, and free, and Liam loves seeing her like this. She’s always at the edge of tense in Washington. He knows it’s because she’s trying to protect the kids—and her unchanging reputation, even of the town was starting to… accept their relationship, in a way—but still, she’s been laughing this entire trip. “Oh, I know,” she says, leaving Drake’s arms for Liam’s.

Drake rubs his lips, tasting like her wine, watching them kiss. His dick twitches. Oh, he knows this night will be just the others on the vacation. He can’t fucking wait. Drake glances up, noticing a weird glint in the distance. What was—and then, Liam’s lips are on his, Jaela ducking her head between them, giggling. “Hot,” she whispers, then gasps—their teeth nipping at each other’s lips as she pulls out her phone, brown eyes wide. “We’ve got to call the kids!”

The men laugh and pull apart, their arms around her back as they walk to the hotel, faces flush with alcohol, each other, and the feeling of being free, joy. “This is such a fucking great vacation. It’s been so long. We… we needed it,” Liam sighs as Jaela pokes at the phone, squinting her eyes.

Drake takes it from her, rolling his eyes, pressing the right button to dial the one person they trusted in that town to watch the kids. Tomás insisted he should have a phone, but all three vetoed that. “You two lived in Miami for a few years… how much more vacation can you—”

“Oh, you know that wasn’t one,” Jaela snapped, nudging her hip against his.

“Not even a full two,” Liam says, nails grazing along her tailbone. “Besides—”

“Hi Tomás!” Jaela says, maybe a bit too loudly and Liam and Drake wince. Liam knows Tomás is too, back in Washington.

“Hi Mo—”

“Hi Momma! Hi Dad! Li!”

“Mom! Dad! Papa!” Their hearts all warm at the children’s greeting, Allie and James the two youngest, talking fast about their days. Tomás isn’t much older, but he’s tall, and they all know he’s holding the phone above them, sighing.

“Ooh, we miss you too, little loves,” Jaela sighs. Drake kisses her cheek, he loves seeing her love for them, and they chat for a few minutes, tucked into an alley outside of their hotel. “Love you all, okay? We’ll be home soon.”

“Sleep tight—James, don’t forget the brush twice,” Drake says.

“Be good, you three. Love you all,” Liam says and they hang up. Jaela sniffs.

“I… I miss them.”

“We’ll be home safe in two days, love.” Liam kisses her cheeks and she sighs, sinking into his gentle embrace. Until—

“Drake!” He grins, scooping her up in his arms. She’s laughing again and both men are happy with that. They’d do anything to see her smile like that… and moan their names.

“We’ll see them soon. But for tonight…” Drake whispers in her ear, not caring about the stares at the three of them as they enter to hotel lobby. “Just think about the three of us. I wanna hear you scream our names again.”

Jaela flushes, warmth pooling deep in her abdomen—and god, it takes the longest time to reach their room, high above, all three thankful for three separate incomes to make this vacation a little venture in the luxury they were so used to, before.

Damien adjusts the long-range lens, licking his lips. He has a view right into their room, curtains open when they stumble in. He taps the earpiece twice, and it switches to the channel of the bug in the room.

“Please just go to sleep, please just got to sleep…” he whispers. But, when the man—Drake, nearly throws Jaela on the bed, climbing over her, showering—no, devouring—her with hot, open mouth kisses, already pushing up her already short dress, he knows they won’t.

Liam carefully pulls out three glasses and pours whiskey, leaning on the bar, watching to two kiss, grabbing onto each other like high schoolers—except…. “Oh fuck,” Damien groans when his dick, unmistakably twitches when her thong comes off, landing at Liam’s feet. “Goddamn it.” As much as he wants this to just be a stakeout, gathering intel, and keeping an eye on them—Liam and Jaela “Davis” and Drake “Smith”—something stirs in him, something primal, and…. Damien shifts, leaning forward as Jaela looks at Liam, pushing Drake’s head down her body, beckoning him with a finger, her gasp coming through the earpiece when Drake shoves up her dress, mouth on her--

“I propose a game.”

“Oh fuck me.”

“Is—now—the right… oh fuck, Drake!” Jaela gasps, fingers twisting his hair as swirls in tongue on her clit, then slides it down between her folds, locking eyes with Liam, who loosens his tie, pupils expanding at the sight of Drake and Jaela.

“I think it’s the perfect time.” Liam sips his whiskey. “Drake, stop.”

Drake emits a low moan, shutting his eyes. Jaela shivers at the vibration. Languidly, Drake removes his tongue, licking every last drop of her he could manage and stands up, pulling back down her dress. Jaela props herself on her elbows, breathing heavy—already—a small pout that both men love on her lips. “I thought you had your fun of being dom last night, Liam,” Drake complains, but is silenced by Liam kissing him hard, tongue immediately in his mouth, the taste of Jaela shared between them. She whistles, the sight always so fucking sexy to her.

Liam tugs on Drake’s lower lip before parting, eyes opening at the same time. “But you listened,” he whispers and Drake shivers. He couldn’t deny that dominant Liam was hot as all hell, and he didn’t want the kiss the end, pulling his hips flush against Liam’s when they part.

“Okay,” Drake says. Jaela bites her lip, looking at the obvious arousal from the men. “What’s this game of yours?” They part and Drake retrieves the two whiskeys Liam poured, handing one to Jaela on the bed. She sits up, sliding the edge and crosses her legs, pussy slick. “And if—” Drake turns to Liam, pointing a finger, sipping the whiskey in his pause. “It’s any form of Truth or Dare, I’m just going to bed with earplugs so you two can fuck.”

Jaela raises an eyebrow, pointedly uncrossing her legs. Drake coughs, whiskey burning his throat at the sight. Damn, she has a way with him. “Yeah, I’m calling your bluff.” Liam takes off his tie, it landing next to Jaela thong in the suite, a sparkle behind his eye. “Liam, what’s this… game?” Typically, he was the one who proposed their games, or scenarios, or… anything else that came to his fancy. Neither Drake or Jaela minded, they always wanted to go along for the ride. Literally. The all too familiar thrill of curiosity and excitement flowed through her, as it had been since… since basically the moment they touched down in New York.

Liam threw back the last of his whiskey, then held both of their gazes, smirking, cock twitching just at the thought. “First one to come loses,” he says, setting down the glass on the bar while Jaela coughs and Drake’s eyebrows shoot up. “Does that appease you, Drake?”

“What happens to the loser?” Drake asks, taking off his tie as well, it joining the thong and other tie.

Jaela’s heart pounds when Liam joins her on the bed, coming from behind her, nimble hands running along her collarbone, applying just enough pressure to make her moan, quietly, throwing her head back, lips at her ear, tongue tracing the delicate cartilage before he speaks again, voice low, the hair on the back of her—and Drake’—neck rising. “They’ll get to watch the other two,” he starts.

“That doesn’t seem much like a punishment.”

Liam slides the straps of her dress off her shoulders, blue eyes darkening every single excruciating second the longer they waited for that release all three were simply—begging—to have.

Four, with Damien’s dick straining against his jeans.

Drake downs his drink and takes Jaela’s from her. In a second, he’s on his knees, kissing up her legs, his stubble only adding to her pleasure, building second by second. She whimpers. Liam’s chuckle is warm, Jaela feeling it on the skin of her shoulder. “Oh, but there’s no touching allowed. Otherwise, you won’t be able to come again until Washington.”

“Punishment within a punishment—I like it,” says Drake before returning his mouth to her sex, but Jaela pushes his head back—no matter how fucking good his tongue felt slipping into her-- glaring at Liam.

“No fair! You two are just going to pull this bullshit—”

Drake’s intoxicated by her dripping before him, so he can’t help but run his hands along her inner thighs, one finger pressing on her clit, smirking at her squirm, Liam unzipping the back of her dress and then pushing it down as Drake pushes up the bottom, the short blue thing bunched around her waist, eyes trained on each other. “You certainly don’t seem to think this is bullshit, love,” Liam says, pinching her nipples at the same time, thumbs grazing the pebbled skin.

Jaela sucks in a breath. “You both know you can get me to come in like… five minutes flat—and while I love watching you two—” God, it kills her to stand up, but she does, taking Drake’s chin in her hand. He removes his finger, eyes wide. She smirks. “—Let’s make this a fair game, shall we, Liam?”

Liam licks his lips, hands on her hips, pushing the dress past her hips and it drops to the floor, Jaela nor Liam taking their eyes off Drake. He likes where this is going. “Let’s.”

Damien taps the earpiece, connecting with his boss again, eyes wide. When he adjusts himself, his own hand can’t help but linger, wanting that release. “Boss, you, uh sure I need to be listening in—”

“Yes. You’re not getting paid to take notes and then doze off. You’re lucky we found them and you didn’t even need to do the groundwork. Fucking pay attention, Nazario.”

And the boss is gone… and slowly, Damien taps back into the bug, cursing when there’s music now. When did they put some on? How did they find the time, tearing off Liam’s and Drake’s clothing, hands and skin and lips barely leaving each other?

Still, he can hear them… and he’s unwittingly memorized when Jaela straddles Drake’s hips, then pushes him down with a finger, crawling over his body on bed, legs on either side of his head, lowering her pussy to him and Drake, licking, eagerly, and she moves her hips, her moans cutting over the music.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, love. I thought you wanted to win—”

“You’re the one that showed us how far we can take it,” Jaela pants, removing her hands from Drake’s abdomen to kiss Liam, joining the two on the bed. Fuck, that’s hot. This all is. Damien gulps as Liam kisses down her body… and onto Drake, planting kisses across his chest, stomach, lingering at the hipbones before he grips his shaft and takes him in his mouth, fully, wasting no time, no tease.

Damien nearly drops the camera, cursing, loudly.

He can’t say this is the worst thing he’s seen while on a stakeout.

It’s the hottest, but was he supposed to be turned on by the people he was paid to… help ruin their happy, lovely life? Even though the thought of what he’s hired to do crosses his mind, nothing can stop the raging hard on and pure desire as he watches Jaela rides Drake’s mouth, Liam sucking Drake’s dick, Jaela and Liam holding a hand, one to support her. There’s no right or wrong in the moment. It’s just… wow.

Drake holds her thighs, lips covered with her, sweet and musky and salty all at once, knowing her tells, how she quivers—almost—

And she moves forward, off his mouth, pulling Liam off his dick—Drake groaning at the wonders Liam’s tongue does, swirling around the head before he kisses Jaela, squeezing her breast. Drake watches their kiss, coming down from his almost orgasm himself—shivering when Jaela rolls her hips on him, spreading her wetness on his stomach—he can feel how hot she is, pulsing--, their kiss sloppy and wet. Drake groans.

Liam says, breathless between kisses, “I didn’t think it’d be this easy to win.” Though, his dick is rock hard and locking eyes with Jaela as she rode Drake’s face while his length was in his mouth, pre-cum beading every few seconds, almost set him off a few times… but they didn’t need to know that.

As much as he loves fucking them together or not, lost in the moment of pure, free passion, the world, their past, his worries, falling to side as he loves them, as they deserve to be, he also loves competition and winning, too. And he’s not losing this one.

Jaela breaks the kiss when Drake squeezes her ass, looking behind her, grinning devilishly. Drake returns it, no words needed for their plan. Liam catches her smile and pulls her closer before lifting her up, her legs around his waist, her pussy on his dick. Fuck, that feels good, and he’s not even in her. “What are you two…”

Drake’s up, his arms supporting Jaela too, and she mewls, leaning back into him, eyes shut as a hand winds around to her chest, roughly kneading her breast. Liam watches, eyes nearly black, as they kiss—goosebumps rising, lips and tongue meeting in a harmony he’s watched countless times. Liam’s and Drake’s dicks twitch and Jaela shudders as she feels it happen, hot, hot heat burning in her. Ooh, this trip was a good fucking idea.

“Liam,” Jaela says, breaking the kiss, eyes bright. Drake separates from Jaela, and Liam’s hold tightens on her, heart racing in anticipation as Drake walks behind him, sliding them down his back, then gripping his hips… one slipping his front. “I want you to fuck me against the window.”

“And Drake?” He whispers, as Drake kisses the back of his neck, running a finger up his shaft, stopping when he hit Jaela’s clit. All three shiver, electricity running throughout every nerve.

“You know you love surprises, my King.”

“My… fucking… King?” Damien nearly pants, palming himself through the jeans, desperate to feel some relief without, ah, how should he say it? Pulling out his dick and jacking off to the three, a trio—in a different world, oh a different fucking world—he’d be more than happy to take home together after bar close, pulling all close to him, kissing and fucking senseless. But that wasn’t that world.

This was this.

And him trying reach some satisfaction as he watches Liam set her down, turn her around, whispering in her ear, and then placing his hands over hers on the window—directly facing him—and then enters her, their moans louder than the music in that moment—is definitely not going into the notes.

What was… would be their apparent pet name for him, lost in the moment, Liam thrusting, their fingers splayed, as Drake went to a bag off to the side. What was? “Oh… oh my god,” Damien gulps. My King. Why would they still call him my King? Was it a joke to them at what they—

As if on its own accord, Damien unzips his fly. One less layer of fabric for his dick to be confined by. No, this wasn’t going into the notes. He focuses the lens again, drawing a sharp intake of breath when Drake returns, dropping to his knees behind his King.

Jaela moans, hands pressed hard against the chill glass. Liam’s removes his from hers and grips her hips. He moves to touch her clit, and she quickly smacks his hand away, shooting a playful glare. “I’m not losing.”

“Just because you can’t… come until we get back doesn’t mean you’ll be w-without pleasure, love.”

She moves her hips back and Liam throws his head back, swallowing hard, looking up at the light. “Just keep fucking me.”

“Of course, my Qu—” He’s cut off when Drake’s finger, gently, carefully, and lubed, enters his puckered hole and Liam slows his pace with Jaela, curling his fingers, blinking rapidly as Drake works, smirking.

“You’ve… rendered him speechless, Drake,” Jaela breathes, hair falling over her shoulder. She looks outside, the city bright—oh how she missed the city, being in a small, judgmental… but safe… town.

“Mm… he does talk too much sometimes.”

“Hey!”

Drake inserts another finger and stands up, gripping Liam’s arm, lips at his neck, licking the salt off of it. “Not a bad thing, my King… but… it’s fucking hot when we make you feel so good that you’re speechless.”

Jaela giggles, focusing on first their reflection in the glass—god, it was damn hot—and then to the building across the way… and the weird glint. She narrows her eyes and Liam curses, Drake’s fingers being replaced with his dick, Liam stilling as Drake enters him, all three panting in the pause.

There—she sees it. The glint again… and the figure behind it, nearly a shadow. What was that? A camera? Binoculars? Oh, logic and reason tells her that they need to shut the curtains and continue this without the potential onlooker. But… how could logic and reason exist when Liam thrusts into her, long and deep, filling her so completely, as Drake does the same to him, the three moving in tandem in a position that took many tries to perfect?

In fact, it thrills her… probably thanks to Liam.

Damien’s thinking the same thing too, long and reason long gone, as she looks directly up at him. He should duck, stop, but he can’t only watching, ready to burst. Besides, she can’t see his face.

“Liam… Drake—” She gasps, Liam and Drake both grunting behind her. “There’s somebody—somebody watching—”

Drake bites Liam’s shoulder, dragging his nails along his side. Liam inhales, reaching a hand around to Jaela’s nub—only this time—she didn’t push his hand away, still looking up a the figure. He raises his eyes too, mind swirling with the thrill of exhibitionism, Drake’s dick—pulling out till the head, then sliding in, stretching him--, and how fucking wet Jaela his, his fingers barely able to rub her clit with how slick she is. “Oh… should we move, love?”

Jaela doesn’t respond, only pants, every nerve consumed in a delicious, thick, and lust fueled fire. Liam manages a half chuckle, looking where she is—and he spots the glint and the figure. Liam moans, scratching her back, pounding harder into her. Okay, it’s fucking hot. It just is. He has his kinks. So, he says nothing, just focusing on how tight and wet her pussy is, how Drake feels in him, and how he’s not going to lose, even if he wants to come right then and there.

There’s no thrill of exhibitionism for Drake, but he’s not in a position to stop this, ready to come at any moment. But… he doesn’t want to lose, either. Jaela’s hands curl into fists on the window and Drake looks too, seeing the same glint and shadow. His mind wants to scream, you need to stop—now—and get back home but it’s silenced by the pure ecstasy of fucking them, Liam’s body slick with sweat under his hands, bruises forming where Drake kissed his shoulders and back. Drake kisses Liam’s ear, running his tongue along the lobe, Liam jerking in response, pushing Jaela forward at the intensity of his thrust. He’s close, so close—they all are-- but…

“Do you like it when he watches?”

“Fuck—Drake—”

That’s what does it for Liam, completely coming undone at Drake’s words, breath hot, spilling inside Jaela mid-thrust. Drake stops, holding him as he comes, shuddering and cursing. Jaela, finally, tears her eyes from the potential onlooker, and looks behind her, Drake kissing Liam’s cheek while winking at her. She grins.

“Mission accomplished, Abdi.”

“I hate losing,” Liam groans, removing himself from Jaela when Drake does from him. Jaela giggles, cupping his face in her hands, bringing him down for a kiss when Drake heads to the bathroom, readying for round two… even though neither of them finished round one.

She peppers him with kisses, bouncing on her toes and he laughs, wrapping his arms around her. “I have a new game.”

“Yeah?”

“Drake and I will see if we can make you come without any touching. Think you’re up for it?”

Liam nips her lips and nods, Drake returning. Their hearts pound, Drake’s dick stirs at the show he’s about to put on for Liam with Jaela. But first… he shuts the curtains, glancing around the room. Everything seemed in place. Good. “Curtains closed, this time, Abdi.”

“Aww…”

Drake pulls her into his arms and Liam heads to the bathroom, dimming the lights on the way. He knows what Drake likes.

“You won’t need to be seen to come the hardest you ever have, anyways.”

“Oh fuck me!” Damien shuts off the earpiece, setting down the camera, zipping his fly. He was going to lose it. Almost did. No doubt Drake and Jaela would win at their game—the three of them almost did for him. He exhales, running and hand down his face.

There were larger issues than the most obvious, his dick. It would be handled soon. They… knew he was watching. Not who he was. But… would this make it harder for him? He hoped not. He didn’t want this to be painful as it could be. He knows that they’re not done, but he can’t listen in, no, not anymore. They’re good people.

So, after a swig of water, adjusting himself, pacing around, he connects with the boss, again. “So, Nazario, any intel?”

“I’ll have to record the notes and go through the recording. But… nothing of use I think, boss. They went to sleep after watching Netflix,” he says, teeth clenched. “Talked about favorite shows and shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. They had a reputation in Cordonia. I’m sure you enjoyed the show. Audio or visual or both?”

“I told the truth,” he snaps.

The boss sighs. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. They’ll be happy to know that this is happening ahead of schedule. Keep an eye on them, Nazario. Pack your bags and start looking at some penthouses. They’ll be a big bonus our way if this works in our favor, you hear?”

Damien swallows hard and the boner finally lessens at the thought of the plan. God. This sucks. “They’re… so happy though,” he says aloud and the boss laughs. Shit. He didn’t mean to say that. “Uh…”

“Happiness doesn’t matter. Do your job. Right this time, Nazario.”

Disclaimer: All characters and rights belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Permatag/Tag list: @youwontlikewherewewillgo, @ashtonmore, @mfackenthal, @jadedpixiescribbles @enmchoices @debramcg1106 @hhiggs @bobasheebaby

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

Note

I’d love to read more Renewed!

Ask and ye shall receive: Mod MBD.

Cradling Faith against her chest, Claire wrapped the thick woolen blanket around the two of them and curled up on the large sofa. Jamie had popped out for some supplies and in the meantime, Claire had been enjoying the silence. With Faith asleep beside her, she could simply breathe in and out and listen to the subtle sounds of the house moving around her. It was brisk out, the breeze picking up as the storm intensified. It wouldn’t be a bad one, the forecast had told, just higher than average winds. But Jamie had insisted that he go out for more bread and milk should there be power outages through the night.

“Daddy will be home soon, wee ‘un, I promise,” Claire soothed as Faith fussed in her arms. She had been fed and changed so she should have been relaxed and ready to sleep but some days she needed both Jamie and Claire close before she would finally drift off. Today, with the changeable weather, Faith was more than slightly agitated. Despite this she was still quiet. Claire could just sense her unease.

“Is she still fighting sleep, mo nighean?” Jamie whispered, catching Claire completely off guard as he came in almost silently. The door closed softly behind him and he placed the shopping down before shaking the rain from his waterproof jacket.

“She’s waiting for you to come and say goodnight, I think,” Claire replied, rocking Faith slightly as their still tiny infant daughter scrunched her eyes together before opening them wide.

Having heard Jamie’s voice, Faith reached out one hand, her fingers extending towards him as her eyes managed to focus solely on him. Baying to his daughter’s request, Jamie reached to take hold of her digits, massaging them lightly between his much larger hands.

Almost instantly, Claire felt Faith flop, her whole body falling to sleep at the faintest touch from her father.

“She misses you, you know,’ Claire said, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched Faith’s eyelids flutter as she began to dream, the small puffs of air escaping from her puckered pink lips. “When you go out, even if you’re only away for a short while she looks for you, as if you might never come back to her.”

“Do ye also, sassenach?” Jamie jested, cuddling up beside Claire, keeping his hand in Faiths as he did so. “Do you pine for me?”

“You know I do, silly,” she returned, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes just for a moment. “If I put her down now…” she began suggestively, “ we might just have enough alone time with one another before she awakes for another feed.”

Not needing any more encouragement, Jamie half lept from the sofa, his eyes alight with mischief as he tilted his head towards the door. “Come on then, lass. No time to wait, aye?”

Giggling whilst holding Faith, Claire followed Jamie’s gaze as she rose steadily behind him being careful not to wake their sleeping daughter. “Lead the way, sir,” she quipped, licking her lower lip in sweet anticipation of their amorous activities. They hadn’t properly lain together since Faith’s birth and - now that Claire had been given the all clear by the doctors - she couldn’t wait to touch and be touched as soon as possible.

Jamie gave Claire a look, one that patently said ‘I’ve missed you too,’ as the pair made their way to the master suite.

“Shall we try and leave her in her own room...just whilst we, ye ken?” Jamie asked as he hovered in front of the newly erected nursery. The cot sat unused up the corner, its dark silhouette illuminated only by the moon streaming in through the uncurtained windows.

“Y-yes,” Claire replied nervously, “just for the moment, yes? Whilst we…”

“Aye,” Jamie said softly, as if to quash Claire’s growing anxiety. “No’ for the night, just for now.”

Claire nodded, turning to face the yellow painted room. She wanted Jamie, of that there was no doubt, but leaving her daughter, alone, in a room away from their own brought an altogether new sensation fluttering in her belly. This would be the first time, the very first moment they had allowed Faith out of their sights for even a moment. Normally one of them would stay with her whilst the other ran errands. But now it was time. Claire knew it and so did Jamie. They needed some time to themselves and Faith needed to learn how to sleep in her own crib.

“She’ll be fine, more than, Claire.” Jamie sighed, wrapping his arm around her waist as he guided her closer to the comfortable crib.

“I know, I do. It’s just hard.”

“I understand, my own. But we willna be far from her.”

Tucking her up tightly, Jamie helped Claire to ensure Faith was safely wrapped up warm before escorting her from the room and closing the door slightly behind them. “We’ll have our door open too, aye, as well as the monitors. We’ll hear her if she stirs. Come now, Claire,” he coaxed, watching as she relaxed with every step they took towards their own room.

Claire was upon Jamie in an instant, as if compelled to do so by the powerful surge of lust and fear flowing through her simultaneously. Pushing him flush against their door she forged her lips with his and kissed him as hard as she could. The act of passion took Jamie by surprise and he gasped in one large gulp of air as his back hit solid wood. Coaxing her into submission, Jamie carefully slowed her caresses until the dull roar that had begun in his eardrums at the lascivious motions that had him propelled unceremoniously against his own bedroom door has subsided sufficiently.

Even with the outward appearance of her needing him hard and fast, Jamie knew she was crying out to be treated with care and reverence. She fought him, push and pulled against him as she tried to bring him to her with vigour and passion but her kisses were still delicate and tender. They hadn’t touched like this is such a long time that Claire’s hormones were raging, they were fighting with her. But Jamie knew the truth of it. She wanted him, that was plain to see...and feel, though not in the way her actions dictated.

Plucking Claire from the floor, Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist, the very movement eliciting the correct response as Claire slid her legs around him and leaned into his hold. Carrying her towards their freshly made bed, Jamie gingerly placed Claire against the sheets, ruffling the fabric as she lay silently now. Her hair had splayed around her head like a deep brown halo. Opening her eyes slightly, she swivelled her hips, using her hands to pull her skirt over her knees and closer to her hips as her legs flopped against the bed.

The dull thud echoed around the room as Jamie gazed upon the milky-white of Claire’s thighs as she exposed herself to him.

“Chist, Claire,” he exclaimed his eyes going wide at the sight of her, “ye havena any knickers on!” His heart thudded in his chest as he took a step closer. She was a little minx. “How long have ye been--?”

“All day,” she interrupted, her fingers running salaciously across the expanse of her thighs as she kept her eyes locked with Jamie’s. “I was just waiting for the opportune moment to show you…”

With shaky hands and a suddenly dry mouth, Jamie quickly rid himself of his shirt and stepped even closer to Claire. Close enough that his legs now brushed against hers. She left her sentence hanging, enticing him forwards simply with a carnal look. Her eyes were ablaze, the dim bulb in their bedroom reflecting in her whisky irises.

Slipping his hands beneath her bottom, he levered her off the bed and reached around until he released the button on the back of her skirt. Pulling it down her legs, he freed her of the pesky fabric, throwing it onto the floor before letting himself hover over her.

Claire waited until Jamie was suitably settled before bringing her fingers up to seductively undo the buttons on her blouse. She hadn’t a brassiere on either, but she had neglected to tell him that upon revealing her uncovered crotch. She’d woken that morning with the pulse of desire beating beneath her skin and she’d known from the off that she needed Jamie again. So she hadn’t put her undergarments on. On the one hand, it had been exhilarating, walking around all day, feeding Faith easily and patiently waiting for the right time. But it had been hard, also. She had *wanted* him all day. Claire had been beating off the desire to simply pounce on him the moment he’d found her in the kitchen later that morning...or just touch herself and resolve the issue immediately.

But that rush, the one that only skin on skin contact with Jamie aroused in her, had driven her to wait. And now she couldn’t wait any longer.

Letting her shirt slither from her chest, she slowly thrust her chest upwards fully unsheathing herself for Jamie to see. Bending his head, he exhaled, blowing a warm gust of air across her chest as his hair tickled her collarbone. Goosebumps rose over her skin as his shallow breathing ignited further feelings of fervor and her nipples hardened. The ache that filled her breasts bordered on painful as she raised her legs, locking them around Jamie’s hips as she dragged his (still covered) groin ever closer to where she needed him to be.

“Hush, mo nighean donn,” Jamie whispered, going nonetheless with her movements, compelled not only by her tight grip but also with the heady atmosphere that now swirled around them. “I willna leave ye wanting tonight, aye?”

“Can I?” Claire asked, her hands hovering suggestively over Jamie’s flies as she twitched her toes against his calves. She wanted to undress him. It wasn’t so much to rush him, more that she wanted to feel that intimacy; that increased layer of familiarity that came from undressing your partner before taking them inside you.

Jamie nodded, not trusting his voice with Claire’s hand, warm and inviting, so close to his…

All thought ceased the moment that her nimble fingers ground the zipper down along the length of him. She’d already undone the button at the top of his casual trousers without him really noticing, but the feel of the vibration as the teeth of the zip peeled open caught his attention and he had to hold his breath while Claire slowly removed his trousers.

Free of the constraints of clothing, Claire and Jamie lay breathing each other in as the heat emanating from their close bodies enveloped them both, keeping them warm as they reclined drowsily.

Resting his forehead against hers, Jamie’s muscles turned to jelly as Claire began massaging her fingers through his pubic hair, gently running the pads across his heated skin as he tensed his belly. Struggling to stay still above her, Jamie bit the inside of his lip, groaning as he tried desperately to retain some manner of composure as she pushed herself up and licked along the length of his parted lips as he shook.

She’d relaxed now, cocooned in Jamie’s warmth Claire’s body and mind were finally in sync with one another as she waited for him to entwine himself with her. She could wait. They had all night to reconnect with one another.

“Yer so bonnie,” Jamie sighed, kissing her sweetly as he rolled his hips in line with hers, bringing his cock in direct contact with her. She was so hot, the dampness of her coating him and enticing him ever onwards. “I could happily drown in ye, sassenach. Wi’ your beautiful eyes, the soft tilt of yer hips and yer perfect alabaster skin.”

Claire shuddered with pleasure at Jamie’s words, the blood thrumming in her veins as she rested her palms against the soft lift of his arse. His buttocks were so smooth, the muscles there gently rippling beneath his flawless skin. The short hairs that ran along his legs tickled her thighs in the most glorious way as she arched her hips upwards, bringing the inside of her calves in line with the back of Jamie’s. Re-hooking her ankles around him, she pushed him inside her.

The pair gasped in time at the contact. Claire was still a little raw, healed but sensitive from giving birth and waiting so long to resume their physical relationship, it felt almost as if she were a virgin once more and Jamie was careful not to thrust himself fully inside her as he usually would. Instead he held himself back, kissing her, using his tongue to taste every inch of her mouth as he swivelled his hips, softly moving ever forwards.

Sweat covered them as Jamie’s hips met Claire’s, the final push of Jamie’s arse making Claire’s head fall backwards, her mouth falling fully open as the feel of his pelvis flush against hers caused her pulse to quicken, the fast flush of blood to every inch of her making Jamie smile as he viewed her through hooded lids.

She was truly exquisite. Here, beneath him (even above him, when she chose to be) with her body ripe and open to him, she exuded a magical aura that Jamie couldn’t help but dive into. She was rapture and life; she was purity, innocence and light coated with a vulnerability that she hid from the rest of the world but couldn’t help but share with him. In these precious moments, naked and bare with one another, Jamie and Claire could bask in the simple pleasure of one another. There was no shame. There was no judgement and even with their daughter sleeping in the next room, there was nothing to consume them other than unadulterated gratification.

“I love you, Jamie,” Claire whispered, her hands clenching against his bottom as she brushed her breasts across the smattering of hair that lined his pectoral muscles.

Jamie moved slowly over her, thrusting his hips gently and rhythmically. Claire swayed beneath him savouring each individual motion as she revelled in the delicateness of it. She’d had Jamie come to her in all kinds of ways. Hard, needy, fast and passionate; but the loving encounters would always be the ones she treasured. Here in the dark, Jamie stole every ache from her; he pushed and rocked himself so damn close that any ounce of distress or concern melted away in the languorous oscillation of his body above, around and inside her.

It was in these moments that she turned to water, her bones metaphorically altering as she evaporated in his arms. She physically wished she could break herself down, dematerialise so that she could slide fully inside him, become so much a part of him that he could never let her go.

“G-God,” she moaned, the vision of her and him entwined always, until the sun expanded, encasing the earth in its burning heat flooding her brain until she could feel nothing but the glow of the imaginary apocalypse twinned with the very real presence of Jamie. “I-I’m so close, Jamie...so fu-fucking close,” she keened, her whole body vibrating with the build up of energy as she rolled her hips upwards to get as much contact with Jamie as she could.

Spurred on by her cries, Jamie continued slowly, never changing the subtle cadence of his thrusts as he seamlessly and effortlessly coaxed as many mewling sounds from Claire as he possibly could. He loved hearing her, the closer she got to climax the louder and more ardent she became. Unable to control much of anything, she would toss her head about, dig her hands and fingers into every piece of skin she could reach whilst tightening her legs around him as if she were trying to mould him to the very essence of her.

Almost delirious, Claire twitched, her brow shuddering as her short curls plastered themselves to her forehead, the sweat holding them hostage.

Incoherent thoughts sparked in her brain as she tensed her shoulders, curling her spine so that she arched off the mattress. A cool breeze flowed through the new void making her tremble as the muscles in her stomach clenched, sending an incomprehensible feeling through her. It shot down to her toes and back up again, lighting each nerve ending in turn as she tried to peek her eyes open.

“Let go, Claire,” Jamie whispered, nudging his nose against hers as he pulsed his hips once, twice...three times, coating himself in the moisture that had gathered where they were joined. He could smell her, a light floral scent that was masked in a dusky sweat. It was primal and it pushed him almost to the brink as he forced himself back from the edge, allowing her a climax before himself.

If he came it was game over, he knew it well. Taking one more deep breath, he held it, his lungs throbbing in time with his cock as he shifted his head to the left, brushing his nose against Claire’s cheek as he pressed forward one more time, begging her now only with each motion.

Letting him guide her, at last, Claire let her legs flop so that they rested bonelessly against the bed either side of Jamie’s. That brought her infinitesimally closer, a very slight and modest move that touched her where she needed it most.

Watching as she fell apart, Jamie gazed at each and every single flutter of Claire’s face as she came undone. She barely made a sound, her lips forming an ‘o’ shape as she squirmed and trembled until she’d ridden out her orgasm. Once she breathed again, her body relaxing once more, the squeeze of her around Jamie easing enough that he could move again.

It wasn’t long; with Claire almost motionless underneath him, Jamie pressed ever closer to his own orgasm. Smiling, Claire managed to elevate her hips a little, allowing Jamie the right leverage. Gasping and moaning at the same time, he clenched his fingers into the bedsheets either side of Claire’s head as he came hard.

It had been so long for the both of them that it was three long, powerful thrusts later that Jamie collapsed to the side, his chest heaving the pressure of such an intense orgasm. Bringing a shaky hand up to his face, Claire brushed aside the stray hairs that were resting gently against Jamie’s high cheekbones. “You’re everything, Jamie Fraser,” she sighed, rolling onto her side and sliding her foot between Jamie’s legs as she pulled the comforter over both of them to keep the warmth in.

“Ye mean you dinna mean to trade me in, sassenach?” He joked, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he blearily leaned over to kiss her softly. The sweat from their fatigued bodies mingled as they connected chest to chest once more.

“Don’t even joke about it,” she returned, burying herself close to him in the aftermath, “you know how much I love you. How much you mean to me. I would never, could never want anyone else.”

“I ken,” Jamie said, seriously, “and I love ye, Claire. You and Faith. You’re my wee miracles.”

“Mhmm…” she returned, her heavy eyes opening and closing sluggishly as she fought sleep. Yawning, Claire burrowed closer still, her arms circling Jamie’s waist as she pushed her body along the length of him. Drawing her against him in one swift motion. Jamie buried his nose into the thick curls that fluffed up at odd angles off the top of her head, jostled by the vigor of their evening's activities.

“Love you, mo nighean,” he whispered, her limp body animating for just a second as he said the words.

“...love you...too…” she said, a sleepy haze coating her words as she rose for just a moment to return the sentiment, “...my own.”

Beside them the monitor lit up just for a second as Faith stirred, her tiny craw filling the now silent master bedroom for the merest of moments as Jamie and Claire slept blissfully, neither so much as twitched at the sound. Lulled back into slumber by the imitation womb Jamie had rigged up for her from the blankets gifted to them by Murtagh, Faith scrunched her eyes closed and slept on.

As the sun rose, shining through the thin material of the curtains, Claire scrunched her nose as she opened her eyes slowly. Aware that she was now alone she pushed the blanket aside, her hands searching fruitlessly for Jamie and the heat of his body. Hearing the rustle of him close by, Claire peeked her head above the furry sheet to catch Jamie by the window, Faith clutched tightly against his chest.

“Morning, love,” she croaked, reaching for the fresh glass of water that he’d obviously brought up for her.

“Morning,” Jamie returned brightly, “I told ye she’d be alright,” he chirped, a twinkle of humour alight in his eyes.

Scoffing with mirth, Claire made to throw a small cushion in his direction, but stopped, her chest rising and falling jaggedly with laughter as she watched him try and wink at their gurgling daughter as she blinked happily, viewing Claire with pronounced joy. Her chubby cheeks had tinted red where the sunlight had caught her through the glass.

“Yes,” she replied instead, cuddling the pillow to her chest as warm contentment flowed through her, “you bloody well did.”

#ask #;Mod MBD #Renewed #Older Jamie and Claire #featuring: faith

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