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lemons3ason · 3 years

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How the Vinsmoke Brothers React to Calling Out The Safe Word During Sex (Headcannons)

Warning: NSFW, dacryphilia, degradation, bdsm, size kink, overstimulation, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Ichiji Vinsmoke

-Genuinely this man has a soft spot for you, seeing the dewy teardrops sitting on your pretty lashes as you cry and beg him to stop rearranging your guts makes him so weak.

-Cold, ruthless, brutal, a monster, everything he was to others was just never a side you’d see of him, you made him human all because he loved you so dearly.

-“Come on beautiful just take it, I know you can you always do!”, he’ll growl glaring down at you with cold onyx hues.

-He has you in a mating press, his thick cock stretching your tiny pussy to the brink beneath him as he calls you his ‘tiny little pig slut’.

-It’s not until you call out his safe word that he realizes just how seriously he’s hurting you, “S-Sora!”, you had cried out making him stop everything in his tracks.

-The name alone is enough to make him go soft inside of you, he lets go of your thighs finally noticing the bruising from his rough grip on them and watched as you pulled yourself off of him and curled into a shaking ball on the bed.

-He’s unsure of what to say as you pant desperately for breath, something about his actions and word seemed different today and it scared you.

-The name Sora, his mother’s name, was a reminder for him to be kind and caring so that’s just what he did.

-He was forward and straight to the point, putting his boxers back on and pulling you by your arm until you sat up straight so he could throw one of his shirts over your naked form.

-“May I hold you?”, he’ll ask softly waiting for your response and once you nod yes he’ll lay down next to you pull you onto his chest and smother your face in kisses until you stop shaking.

-Once you’re comfortable enough he’ll adjust himself so he’s at your thighs and gently kisses the bruises he’s left on your skin, once you’re calling him up he’s pulling you back onto his chest and gently holding you and watches as you doze off in his warm arms.

-He’ll whisper soft compliments and praise to you gently rubbing circles against your back to keep you at ease while you sleep.

-The next morning you wake up horny but he’s sure to be much more careful with how he handles you, with you on your stomach and hips high in the air he enjoys your soft squeals as he fucks you from behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Niji Vinsmoke

-This man ties you up, your arms are tied behind your back allowing him to keep you up by yanking on the rope around your wrist, and your calves touch your thighs since he has them tied up allowing him full access to your pussy even if you tried to escape.

-The most brutal of all the brothers when it comes to sex, if you are very sensitive this is not the man you want to be with.

-Pounds brutally at your pussy, burying himself as deep as he can go and then some just to hear you scream, if he feels that you’re too dry he’ll let all that spit that’s accumulated in his mouth to dribble off the tip of his tongue to your hole before returning to thrusting your pussy into oblivion.

-You can normally handle it, usually your masochistic side is in pure pleasure from how he handles you but for some reason it just felt different today.

-“Hmm what’s the matter slut? Not feeling it today? You’re running dry fast today, need some more pain huh my little bitch?”, Niji growls grabbing a fist full of your (h/c) hair that sends your body into shock.

-You’re easily thrown into pure fear as memories as your days as a mistreated slave come flooding back, he had forgotten it for a brief moment but released your locks as soon as you screamed out, “Heartless!”, at the top of your lungs.

-Your devil fruit powers activated blades erupting from your skin, one scratching Niji’s cheek, and the others cutting your skin but helping you cut yourself free.

-You’ll pull away from him quickly, sitting as far from him as you can while you form yourself into a ball.

-Niji sucks at comforting people, even you. So he’ll leave and order Cosette to your room to calm you down while sitting outside your bedroom door in hopes that he’ll be let back in.

-Once you’ve fallen silent and Cosette emerges with an empty tray of plates and cups that she had provided food and beverages for you with she leaves without a word. The door is left open meaning that you are waiting for him.

-He’s silent, a obvious scowl etched over his face as he sees you asleep in fetal position on your side of the bed.

-His erection is long gone since the beginning of the incident, he won’t ask for sex for a while only if you are needy for some relief but he’ll let you do everything just to make sure you’re comfortable.

-Lays close enough to you to wrap an arm over your around balled form, buries his nose into your hair to enjoy your shampoo that he loves so much. He’s noticed that this relaxes you, eventually you unfold yourself throughout the night and you wake up with him pressed against your back and his arm around your waist.

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Sanji Vinsmoke

-Usually...USUALLY...this man treats your body like a temple. Kisses every inch of it and praises your whole figure especially the places you’re insecure about but after a fight with Zoro he was furious and took it out on you.

-Your back is pressed against the bathroom wall of the ship, tears falling from your hazy eyes as Sanji fucks the fourth orgasm out of you.

-Your tears and whines just egging him on to fuck you more. Your fists weakly punch and push at his chiseled chest to get him off of you but he’s not listening.

-“S-S-Sanji! St-op please!”, you sobbed trying to push him off of you.

-“Stupid moss head...saying he’s better for you then I am. I’ll show him. Your pussy will only be molded to my cock no one else’s!”, the blonde growled.

-His thrusts are so rough that they make your breasts bounce every time his cock fills your wet cunt, your whole body is burning and you can’t feel your legs. You just want it to stop.

-“Prince, stop!”, you begged calling out the title that Sanji absolutely hated.

-He stopped finally taking in how weak your body was from his constant overstimulation. He returns back to his gentlemanly state and puts you down making sure to keep you leaning against him since your legs are weak.

-“I’m sorry my love, I made you so uncomfortable that you had to say that word...I-I’m so sorry.”, he’ll apologize over and over even after you’ve said that it’s okay.

-He’ll gently clean you off, making sure to be careful with your sensitive body, scrub your head with the shampoo he loves so much, before finally joining you in the warm bath and relaxing with you.

-He knows that he was the cause of the issue but he stays by your side hoping you’ll forgive him, carries you to bed once he’s thrown one of his long shirts over your sweet body, and carries you to bed.

-He cooks you your favorites so you can enjoy a nice meal before sleep and absolutely swoons over how cute you look while stuffing your cute face.

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Yonji Vinsmoke

-This man is huge compared to you in every way, towers over you and admired you as his prey but god does he love you.

-Not as mean as Ichiji and Niji but still an insult slips out of his mouth here and there when he has you bouncing on his thick cock.

-He loves the way your ass bounces when you come down hard on his cock taking his whole member in despite how small your pussy is compared to his length.

-He smiles at the feeling of your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs as you ride him silly.

-“Yeah pretty girl that’s it. Take it all in.”, he’ll order striking the plump flesh of your ass with his heavy cold hand.

-He’s not even trying but his heavy hand leaves a mark on your tiny cheeks in seconds, the sweet cry of his name motivates him to do it again and your hip movements become long forgotten as Yonji slaps you ass.

-Each hit makes you clench around his cock, strangling it in your tight little walls. He adore the sensation but quickly becomes impatient so his hips start moving plunging his cock so deep that you feel the entrance of your cunt rub against his pelvis.

-“That’s it you like getting spanked don’t you stupid princess? Come on try harder, I’m gonna fill you up with a little heir to my name and you’re gonna take it all.”, Yonji growls smacking your thigh.

-You can’t take anymore strikes from his hand, your cervix hurts from how much he’s been thrusting into you. So you can’t do anything but cry out the word, “Monster!”, you cry out making Yonji freeze up immediately.

-As you collapse off of his member his brothers barge in like nothing informing him of the new mission they’ve been appointed, both of them staring at your shaken form as you try to cover yourself.

-Niji dares to reach out to you with a shit face grin on his face but Yonji doesn’t let his brother touch you. He throws his royal cape over your naked body and shoves his brothers out of the room to change.

-“Stay here, rest up. I should’ve realized that it was to much for you, don’t be mad at me.”, He’ll sigh, the tall green haired man will get on his knees placing his head on your thighs waiting for your forgiveness.

-You forgive him once your body has calmed down and gently play with his hair forgetting that he has to leave on a mission until Niji starts pounding at the door.

-“I’ll be back beautiful. Just wait for me and I’ll make it up to you.”, he smirks pressing a hot kiss to your plump lips.

#one piece #sanjionepiece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji scenario #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke smut #sanji smut #Ichiji smut #Yonji smut #Niji smut #x reader

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aaaa-mpersand · 4 years

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OCtober Day 2 Prompt: Mercy

Thank you again @oc-growth-and-development for the prompt. This scene is an AU of Nora Sakavic’s All For The Game/The Foxhole Court, with my original characters. Finley and Siobhan belong to me, John and ‘puppy-eyes’ aka Amadeo belong to @hopelessimpressionist. In this au, all the characters are Ravens. Siobhan is captain, position striker. John’s striker. Finley is the starting lineup goalie, and Amadeo is a backup goalie. Yes, I am writing about fictional sport. Me. A twink. Trigger warning: abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, violence She pulled her arm back, racquet swinging with so much force it sang. The ball was in its net, and then a few inches away from the goal. Finley felt the deep, aching burn of his muscles as he lifted his own racquet on muscle memory. The pushback made his shoulders feel like they were going to pull apart by the joints, but he tightened his grip anyway, knuckles going white under thick gloves.

Still, it only managed to slightly change its trajectory. The whole gym echoed like thunder as the ball hit the plexiglass wall.

Siobhan wiped the sweat from her cheek, seethed quietly as she stared at either Finley or the goal, though he didn’t know which was better. “Again,” she spit out in between the heaves of her chest.

Finley didn’t argue, tossing the ball back. The two of them had been at this for hours; they’d practically watched the sun set from the windows in the far back of the gym. The rest of the team, though ever keen on practice, were nowhere to be seen, had been since practice ended with a standoff that had escalated into a full on fight. While Siobhan could hold her own, and years of swinging racquets had translated well to swinging punches, he could still feel her dissatisfaction with every purse of her lips, every furrow of her brow. With a quiet huff, she tossed the ball into the air, catching it in her racquet. Though his throat had turned to sandpaper and he didn’t know how much longer his arms could hold up against this onslaught, he didn’t take his eyes off her.

She stepped back, took a running start to grow momentum, then swung her racquet in a harsh, curved arc that could shatter bone, if anyone was stupid enough to stand that close. Finley moved. She’d aimed it to the exact spot at the corner where he would have to strain hard to even have a hope of deflecting it. Two, three pounding steps, his ears static as he reached, reached. This time, it just barely bounced off his racquet, thumping loudly as it bounced back. Brute strength traded for precision; Finley let out a small sigh.

The next time Siobhan took a swing, she made it powerful and merciless, aimed right at Finley’s face. If he had the time to react, to duck, he would have. It punched straight into his helmet, right above his faceguard, and bounced off to hit the goal. “We’re done,” Siobhan said. Finley only vaguely heard it through the static in his head as he regained balance. She tapped the butt of her racquet against the floor, and then stalked off to the door of the exy court. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, and then hurried to follow her out. Her shoulders were strung tight still––not the boneless but satisfied exhaustion of a practice well spent, but the frustration that even swinging a racquet at speeds that could shatter plexiglass couldn’t seem to tame. Still, she held her head high, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her like a ticking clock.

They both hurried to their respective locker rooms and got changed, put out gear and uniforms that needed to be washed after a whole day of practice. Finley changed quickly and waited outside for Siobhan, who came out freshly showered in a Ravens shirt and athletic leggings. He followed her as they walked out, hunched the way tall people often tended to do. Finley ran his hand over the stubble of his red hair, cropped so short people could barely tell its color. “You won the fight,” Finley said quietly, though he knew the devil was in the details. She’d given John a pulled arm and a black eye that he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon, but he’d returned it with a punch to the jaw that was growing green and purple beneath Siobhan’s jaw. His spit on her shoes hadn’t helped much with her mood, but he suspected it was the passing glances and whispers of their teammates that mattered more. Finley waited carefully for her response.

Siobhan tilted her head, her blonde ponytail swinging to the side. “I’ll win more than just a fight when I’m done.” Finley didn’t doubt it for a second. There were a lot of things Siobhan was––merciless, single-minded––a liar was not one of them.

There was a reason why people didn’t pick fights with Siobhan; she made it an oath to hit you back twice as hard.

Well, Finley turned over the events of the day. Most people at least. People with a brain in the cavity of their skull and an inkling of self preservation.

“They’re evaluating the starting lineup again next week,” she glanced back at him, “Think puppy-eyes is going to beat you on this one?”

He snorted, but fear still raised its hackles in the back of his mind, like an old curse. He turned over thoughts of his roommate, a short boy with golden curls that cried in a way that Siobhan found particularly infuriating, all hiccups and pathetic whimpers. He pictured it, stomped it to dust in his mind, let himself breathe. “Your next lineup partner is probably a better point of debate.”

Siobhan’s lips curled into a mirthless smirk. “We’ll see if Barron still has a smart mouth when he’s bottom of the list.” Finley shrugged, but noting his silence, Siobhan turned to stare at him with dark eyes. He felt her look through him like he was made of glass.

“Maybe not last,” was what he gave up, reluctantly. “You don’t want him to be?” “I do,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek, but when Siobhan’s mouth curled into a sneer, letting him know she’d caught him out on his lie, he found himself adding on, a bandaid on a festering wound “Everyone knows it’s he deserves it, but it’s improbable, is all. For all the time he spends wiping the floor under your shoe, he’s at least good at what he does.”

“He’s what,” Siobhan hissed, like a viper ready to strike.

Finley bit his lip hard. “He’d struggle to even fight Mya for the second spot on the starting lineup, but––” She turned and shoved her hand into his face, grabbing him by the sides of his mouth. Finley shut his trap as her short fingernails dug in, never taking his eyes off her.

“I’ve heard all I need from you,” was Siobhan’s verdict. The thing about Siobhan’s anger was that it never showed on her face, pale and wide-eyed as always. Not a single contorted smile, not one ugly sneer on her face. She tilted her head up at him, ponytail swaying slowly. He swallowed and stood absolutely still as her nails dug deeper, pulled, leaving shallow, bloody scratches in their wake.

She let go. Finley pulled back like he’d just been shocked, and he didn’t follow her as she stalked away to her dorms. Closing his eyes for a moment, he opened them to an empty hallway.

Hallways that were lit like horror movie sets and left him an easy picking for whoever was also loitering around, looking for something, anything to do. Fear came to his side like an old friend. He let it guide him back to his own dorms, unable to stop the grinding of his teeth and the pick of his fingernail against the bloody first joint of his thumb.

The next days were occupied with purposeful silences and biting jabs that bit into him when he least expected it. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask for forgiveness. Didn’t beg for mercy. He felt the weight of the racquet under his hands during practice. Didn’t look to Siobhan for help when the taller backliners grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him against the glass for letting in the losing goal of their skirmish.

And when Siobhan brought her racquet down on John Barron’s knee during a skirmish, a blow powerful enough, resolved enough, furious enough to shatter bone, Finley didn’t say anything at all.

#oc-tober #tw abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw physical abuse #tw violence #finley merrick #siobhan kennely #john barron #amadeo detraya #my ocs #my writing #exy au #aftg

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takemeawaytocamelot · 7 years

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JAMMF the Knight - If Your Heels Are Nimble and Light, You Can Get There by Candlelight

Alright you lovely people. This is the third chapter of the JAMMF the Knight story which is a collaborative work with the ever amazing @thescarlettpeacock. This lovely chapter is like 99% her work, so go ahead and give her the kudos for it. I mainly edited and poked her until she wrote it. But it’s a wonderful chapter and I’m only posting it here so it stays with the other chapters. It was meant to go out earlier today and I forgot, so I’m sorry. Here it is, I hope you enjoy it!

Part One

Part Two

Previously

“Claire - lass…” He paused, gasping for a breath in a room suddenly deprived of oxygen.

“Yer a star.”

Claire moved quite suddenly away from Jamie, her body reacting in flight at his revelation.

“No, I’m not.” Her voice was flat against the accusation, “You’re mistaken. I’m just plain old Claire Beauchamp.”

“I saw ye! I saw… Oh God you’re a star! That’s why you’re here!” Jamie stared at Claire, dumbfounded by his realisation, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“No! No you don’t know what you saw!” Claire’s throat caught, her voice levels rising to an almost shout.

“I saw you glowing in the shadow and-” He couldn’t stop, his mind and mouth working without cohesion as he babbled out his reaction.

Claire shook her head with rigour, her chest rising and falling, heaving out breaths as she tried to explain the falsity of his claim. “A trick of the light! It wasn’t what you thought it was -”

“It makes sense now! Why he’s kept ye here! And why-”

“Stop! Stop talking! I’m not a star!”

Jamie went quiet for a moment as the gravity of his next sentence settled in. “The beast, he came for you didn’t he? He came to cut –“

“Shut up!” Claire darted to the far wall, covering her ears and squeezing her eyes shut, trying desperately to drown out Jamie as he spelled out her worst fear.

“God he would’ve… Your entire life just…” The severity of the situation was setting into his mind, a thousand thoughts whirring together and making no sense. A woman - who so happened to be a star - taken by the beast in the same way his sister had been.

“He stole me away to kill me! Yes! He came to cut out my heart like all of my sisters that fell before me! What do you think they do to fallen stars, Jamie?!” Violent tears fell down Claire’s face in absolute terror as she shouted at Jamie, her bodying shaking with vigour. “I will be dead before the week is through! There’s nothing you or I can do about it!” Her fury burned with a dangerous intensity.

“I’ll find a way out, Claire! I promised you I wouldn’t let any harm come to you, I’m no’ about to let a mad man cut your heart out!”

“You closed the door, Jamie!”

“Oh will you let that go! I didn’t do it on purpose and I already apologised for that earlier!”

“Do you think that makes it all better!? Face it! It’s your fault we can’t leave and it’s your fault I’m going to die! Just get out, Jamie!” The words flew from her mouth, and she knew instantly that they had hit their mark.

Her words cut through Jamie like a blow from a sword, heavy and violent. He stood astonished, his chest heaving, shaking against the cold. The weight of truth that hung over them both, a spectre lingering in the darkness of the night. He was to blame, he had closed the door. And if Claire died, her blood would be left on his hands.

Jamie took one last look at her, spun on his heels and left the room, slamming the door behind him with the echo ricocheting down the tower.

----------

Some time had passed since they had last spoken, both furious with the other, with minds whirring with new and dangerous information. The moon had reached its peak in the sky, deep into the night it began lowering, revealing a new morning. The stars flickered behind them, the narrow window providing only a small view of their vast expanse. During his time away from her, Jamie had realised that Claire knew those stars, that they must have been the smallest comfort for her during her time in this wretched tower. Her time on the earth, in fact. Had she been lonely, he wondered. Did she cry for her lost family? The view of the world below and its people, the beautiful and the damned lot of them, did she long for it? He hadn’t thought about that when he’d announced her status and argued with her. Guilt was setting into him, his gut aching. Jamie knew he should go back to her - just to make sure she hadn’t done anything stupid in her blatant fury toward him and the situation at hand.

Once he had finally decided to force himself upstairs, he found her staring into the fireplace, framed by a beautiful white halo that illuminating her from head to toe. Claire didn’t move her body as he approached, nor made real any acknowledgement of his presence. Jamie stood by the door, watching in and waiting to be invited back into her chamber. His hopes were interrupted when Claire began speaking again, voice wistful.

“If I could have one wish, just a small insignificant wish -” She paused only for a moment, but long enough for Jamie to assume the wish would be to have never had him appear at the door. “I would ask that a Babylon candle could fall from the heavens.”

“A what?” He stepped into the room, silently relieved that while they had fought, there was a chance she might let him stay in her company for a while longer and warm himself by the fire beside her.

Claire did not look up as she spoke, maintaining her gaze toward the fireplace. “A Babylon candle. They are incredibly rare now, there used to be hundreds of them. A dull emerald green with a solid black wick running right through the middle. All you have to do is think of exactly where you wanted to be, light the candle and off you go. You had freedom at your fingertips. I remember watching people travel across the lands, having adventures, visiting their families…” Her voice fell soft with the weight of nostalgia.

Jamie took a seat beside her, his legs straddling the bench. He watched on as her body hung stiff under the weight of a heavy heart, the logs of the fire crackling and spitting loudly as he waited for her to continue with her tale.

“Someone stole them all, started using them for dark magic. That’s how they started finding us so quickly - when my sisters fell. They would think of the location of the star and try to find them before someone else did. It was like a cruel sport sometimes… The hunt for a star heart.” Claire sniffed back tears, throat tightening with each word. She turned herself to him, her eyes filled with tears, her lip wobbling. “I didn’t mean to fall you know? Curiosity caught me. I just wanted to watch you all, to see the wonderful things I had watched you all do. Now I’m beginning to wonder if I ignored what humanity is really like.” She spoke to him as though her were her priest at the confessional, hoping for an absolution from such a human trait as curiosity and desire.

“We’re a despicable lot at the best of times.” He muttered, feeling hopeless for Claire and for himself.

“I’m not ready, Jamie.” She choked out, “I don’t want to die.” With the last word, Claire began to heart-wrenchingly sob, ferocious tears falling down her face and dripping off her quivering chin. Misery and hopelessness came in waves, moments of sobbing broken apart by pauses for a breath. Jamie wondered how long it had been since she had cried - had she at all? Twice in the hours he had been in her company she had broken into sobs, and twice he felt the weight of the world fall onto his shoulders, hoping with all of his might that he could ease her anguish.

When her cries had calmed, she had fallen eerily silent. She was a picture of devastation. Instinct had Jamie reaching into his pocket, searching for a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her bleary eyes. Cursing his habit of stuffing everything into whatever pocket was nearby, he began to fumble through various trinkets and knick knacks, dropping them onto his lap; a silver coin for emergencies, a nail from a horseshoe, the green candle Quentin had given him, a small fishing line and –

“What - Jamie, what is that?” Claire’s bruised voice cut through a short silence.

“What?” he asked, looking down at the objects in his lap. She leant over to him and plucked the candle from the pile of objects, staring at it intently. “Your uncle gave it to me. I dinna ken what it is.”

Claire’s expression changed quite rapidly in the following moments. She paled, her eyebrows arched with disbelief, then her skin began to flush. “It’s a -” Claire paused for a moment before she commenced yelling rather loudly at her fellow prisoner. “You’ve had a Babylon candle this entire time and you just neglected to mention the fact?!” She moved forward with swift agility, hitting Jamie rather hard in the arm repeatedly. “You’ve had me thinking we were going to die in here the whole time! And you’ve had that in your bloody pocket!”

What Jamie had in fact not realised was that during his meeting with Quentin Lambert, he had been gifted a Babylon candle. A candle that provided the perfect method for their escape from the tower. Quentin had entirely neglected to explain the use of the candle to Jamie, knowing that if he found Claire, she would explain its properties and he and his ward would be reunited sooner rather than later.

“Ouch! Claire! For God's sake stop hitting me will ye! I thought it was just a candle!””

“‘I thought it was just a candle!’” She mimicked sarcastically, “We could have been gone from this bloody place the moment after the door closed!”

“I didna ken what it was! But we can go now. I can take you back to your uncle.”

Her glare turned from rage and frustration into wariness and caution. “How do I know you'll take me back to him? What if you've got your own plans for me now that you know what I am.”

Jamie threw his hands up in frustration, “We've been o’er this, damn it! If ye dinna trust me, I canna help ye!”

“You'd just leave me here?” Claire asked, hurt by the idea that Jamie would simply leave her behind.

“Perhaps.” He shrugged, his demeanour appearing indifferent. “If ye willna come, I canna force you.”

“I…” she looked longingly at the candle. If she could do what she wanted, would she return to the sky? Was that even possible? “I just want to go home.”

“Then will ye trust me far enough to do that?”

She hesitated, chewing on her lip. After her pause, she finally spoke with certainty.

“Yes, I will.”

-----------

They had decided to wait until morning before making a move, knowing it would be easier for them to find their way to their destination by the light of day than lit by moonlight. They would light the candle, a location fixed in their minds and with luck, be transported there. Jamie would take Claire directly to her Uncle, he would collect his payment and he would leave, never to see or hear from her again. Hasten to admit, the latter had stuck in Jamie’s throat as they had agreed on a plan.

“We have to get this right, Jamie.”

“I know - I’m just trying to think of where exactly we should go…”

“Why can’t I decide?!” She challenged indignantly.

“Bloody woman will ye no’ -” Jamie was interrupted by the sound of the door opening at the bottom of the stairs. The distinct sound of footsteps echoed off the walls, heavy and foreboding.

Claire’s body began to shake as Jamie gathered her to his side, his blood running cold through his veins in growing unease.

“Claire, think of home.” He whispered.

The footsteps grew louder.

“Jamie -”

And heavier.

“Claire -”

Coming closer.

Jamie grabbed her hand, linking their icy fingers tightly together, entirely awash with panic.

The door handle of the chamber turned down and the door swung open, revealing a shadow in its frame.

“Think of home!” He demanded, thrusting his hand into the blazing fireplace. Jamie screamed from the pain, white hot and searing before a flash erupted before them.

They vanished.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #TheScarlettPeacock #JAMMF the Knight #jamie x claire #Stardust AU

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