#clawen fanfiction

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Something New - 1/1 | clawen fanfiction

A/N: Had a super cute clawen dream last night and so felt inspired to write one of my one-shot ideas I came up with a week or so ago. Hope y'all enjoy.

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Synopsis: Post FK - Owen, Claire and Maisie adjust to their new dynamic.

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It was a long drive back to Owen’s unfinished cabin. A quiet one mostly, but words didn’t need to be said. Maisie was content to watch the landscape unfold outside her windows, and Owen reached across the console to hold Claire’s hand. It startled her somewhat, given where they’d been before the start of all this, but she didn’t flinch. They had just risked their necks for each other back at the Lockwood mansion. And she had kissed him, after all.

The three of them stepped outside of the truck once they reached the property and stood there looking at the frame of a house. It was dejavu for Claire and Owen, who were finding it somewhat hard to believe how far they’d come since they’d last been here. Maisie spoke first.

“Is this where you live?”

The question as directed at Owen, as it always was. Claire smiled faintly, waiting for him to respond.

“It’s where we’re going to live, all three of us.”

He said it so confidently that it nearly stole Claire’s breath, but she knew there’d been unspoken communication between Owen and herself. They were going to take care of Maisie together. They’d raise her and keep her hidden from anybody trying to find her. That also meant though, they’d be skipping over trying to date each other again. They were just…together, in every sense of the word. And for now, that meant doing everything they could to be everything Maisie needed.

It was about Maisie, not them. Sort of.

Maisie tilted her head to the side.

“But there are no walls…or roof…or doors.”

Owen chuckled.

“Good observation, kid. Can you tell me what that is over there?” He pointed into the distance, his home away from home until his cabin was finished.

“A trailer?”

“Very good.”

“That’s where we’ll be living, Maisie. Until Owen and I can finish his cabin.”

Owen gave her an intriguing look.

“Oh, you’re going to help me build my cabin?” he asked, teasingly.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“It’ll be the end of the year if we let you do it by yourself.” She held out her hand for Maisie to take. “Come on, Maisie. Let’s see if Owen left any food for us in his little trailer.”

“Hey, now, that is a state-of-the-art trailer!” He called after them. “Good condition too!”

“But does it have food?” Claire called back, shaking her head when Owen only muttered something she couldn’t understand.

And so the next week went by with Claire tending to Maisie on and off, as well as doing some shopping – food, building supplies, etc. – and helping Owen build his cabin. They made a great deal of progress working together, but they didn’t talk much unless it was about Maisie. They stayed focused on the task at hand.

It was a few more days before Owen prompted Claire for more than that.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he said between hammering.

“Yeah?” she asked, doing her own share of hammering.

“What are you gonna do with your place back in the city? I mean, are you gonna stay here with us.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Owen.”

“Well, that’s great and all, Claire, but you must have rent and all your stuff back at your place. You can’t just let it…sit there.”

She sighed and paused.

“You want me to go?”

“Hey, no, I don’t want you to go. Not permanently. But…” He shrugged. “Take care of your business, and then come back to us. You can take the truck, maybe fill up the gas a time or two.” He flashed a subtle smile at her.

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Okay. Just a couple days, then I’ll be back.” She glanced over her shoulder at Maisie watching them curiously.

“We’ll be fine,” Owen assured her. “She’ll be fine.”

Claire’s smile was a little more forced this time, but she nodded and started descending her ladder. She squatted so she was on Maisie’s level.

“I’m gonna go.”

“Shopping again?” Maisie asked curiously.

Claire shook her head.

“I need to go back to my apartment, get everything packed up and taken care of, and then I’ll be back. It’ll just be a few short days.” She lowered her voice. “Think you can watch over Owen for me?”

Maisie nodded confidently, smiling.

Claire smiled in return.

“That’s my girl.”

She stroked her hair softly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ll be back.”

True to her word, Claire was back a few days later with some extra money in her pocket after selling the bigger ticket items in her apartment and a truck full of smaller things, things they’d need and mementos of things she didn’t want to forget, a picture frame with her and her sister in it, things of that nature.

Maisie actually ran and hugged her when she got back, which was a pleasant surprise, since Claire had only seen her act so affectionately towards Owen.

“Hey, I said I’d be back.”

“We missed you,” Owen said, walking towards them. His eyes lowered to her lips, but he didn’t do what he wanted to in that moment. Mostly because of Maisie, but also because they hadn’t kissed since that night in the Lockwood mansion, and he was afraid she’d reject him.

“Well, I’m back.” She smiled, letting silence hang after she’d spoken the words. “I thought I could just keep most of my stuff in the truck until there’s space to put it someplace else.”

Owen nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. Food’s inside,” he said.

“Oh?”

“He’s been cooking,” Maisie informed her.

“Well, color me intrigued. Let’s check it out.”

Maisie took her hand and led her into the trailer where food awaited in the little kitchen.

Later that evening when Maisie was asleep, Owen approached Claire digging around in the truck for some of her belongings. Maybe some clothes, he guessed, but there was no harm in asking.

“I thought you were going to keep your stuff in the truck for a while,” he said, his hand practically hovering over her ass sticking out of the open door. If it had been a year ago, he would’ve smacked or grabbed it playfully, but he didn’t know where they stood right now. Not really. So he retracted the thought and his hand.

“Just getting some clothes.”

She jumped out of the truck with a bag in her arms partially unzipped. Owen spotted some lace and reached for it.

“Ooo, what’s this?”

“Owen!” She tried to reach for the garment, but it was out of reach as soon as he’d snatched it from her bag.

“I remember this bra. I remember taking it off of you.”

Her cheeks flushed bright red.

“Yes, well, that was another time.” She managed to reach it and stuff it back in her bag. “It’s not like that anymore. We’re not-”

“We’re not?” he asked, and she thought she heard a sad tone to his voice.

She avoided eye contact.

“The priority now is Maisie, not us.” She tried to move past him, but he caught her arm.

“Uh-uh, not so fast.”

Her eyes fastened to his, and she couldn’t move.

“You feel a responsibility to Maisie, and I understand that. I do too. But this is about more than just protecting and raising a 10-year-old, who just so happens to be a replica of Lockwood’s daughter.”

“It is?”

“You kissed me, Claire. And I know you meant it.”

“I…” She didn’t know what to say. She had meant it, but it had also been a device to get him to go save Maisie at the time. It had all been for Maisie.

“You still have feelings for me. Admit it.” He sighed when she didn’t respond. “We’re not in a van on the side of the road anymore, and obviously I’m fine with you driving my truck.”

She scoffed. “Owen.”

“I love you, Claire.”

Her eyes went wide.

“I know I didn’t say it when we were together, and neither did you, but you should know that’s how I feel. I want us to be together again – not just raising Maisie as pseudo parents, which is a big job in and of itself. But together. You know?”

Claire hesitated, then dropped her bag, grabbed his face and kissed him.

“I want that too, Owen,” she said when they parted.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, teasingly. “Well now we’re talking that.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Come on. There’s another bag in there you can help me take in.”

She started to walk away, so he smacked her behind before she could get too far, and she yelped.

“Owen!” She yell-whispered.

He shrugged innocently.

“If we’re together…?”

She laughed and shook her head.

“Come on.”

Grinning from ear to ear, he grabbed the second bag, locked up the truck and followed her into the trailer. Luckily there was a partition between the bed and the makeshift couch where Maisie was sleeping, and Owen took that opportunity to kiss her some more until finally Claire pushed him away.

“She’ll hear!” she insisted.

“Then be quiet,” he mumbled, yanking her towards him again and kissing her some more. “I like the way you taste.”

Claire whimpered at that remark, going weak in the knees. She would never survive his little remarks and living with a 10-year-old not too far away. Not if they were going to be a real couple again.

But she succumbed for just a few seconds to the giddy feeling threatening to overwhelm her.

“I do taste pretty damn good,” she said.

“Hell yeah you do,” he agreed, with a grunt.

The sound turned her on and made her want to strip herself naked right then. But they heard Maisie rustling in her sleep, and that put a halt to everything.

“We’ll find a solution to this,” Owen said.

Claire smiled slyly and removed his hand from her ass, kissing him once more quickly.

“We better.”

[enchanted--realm]

But It’s An Animal Hospital

Prompt by @jurassicsickfics 1: Intense Isla Nublar/Sorna heat causing nausea. Thanks for keeping the fandom alive!

Tags: Clawen, Sickfic, One Shot, Jurassic world, Pre-Jurassic World (2015), Claire Dearing/Owen Grady, Owen Grady takes care of Claire Dearing, heat exhaustion, pov descriptions of feeling sick

Summary: Claire suffers from mild heat exhaustion and Owen takes care of her, cuteness ensues.  Clawen one shot sickfic.

Content warning, pov descriptions of feeling sick.

Notes: Personally, I'm not a big fan of reading about stomach upset and think it's really gross, so the descriptions of nausea are pretty mild.  No one actually ends up v*miting.  So, sorry if that's your thing??  To each their own though.

Happy Jurassic June everyone!  Clawenafterdark on twitter, shout out to you!

Also, this is the first Clawen fic I've ever written and I've been obsessing over another fandom lately so this may read a little out of character, I'm not really sure.  I tried my best.  Thank you so much for reading! < 3

Keep reading under cut

Link to work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47698048

_________

The sun was beating down on Claire all day, and the humidity felt like it was trying to choke her. It was the hottest day of the year yet, and of course today was the day that Claire's schedule had her running all over the park.

Her usual morning meetings had been replaced by an investors tour which she had been giving around the outdoor paddock of one of their newest attractions. She had answered question after question in the ninety degree heat, trying to look composed while brushing sweat off her brow, and it wasn't even noon then.

She'd known she'd be outside for the majority of the day, and so she had dressed accordingly in her loosest and lightest business attire, but given it was only morning when she started to tire from the heat, she knew she had a brutal day ahead of her.

After the investors tour, which had unfortunately gone overtime, Claire had driven across the park to see about new developments for one of the resorts. Another outdoor meeting. Her car had felt like an oven on the way there with the air conditioning still not working since she kept forgetting to call the auto shop. She had to have all the windows down just so she could breathe. Of course by that time her water had gone warm and did nothing to cool her down.

When she had parked at the resort, she ripped open an instant cooling pack. Over the years of living on the island, she learned to keep them on hand for hot days like this. She hardly had the time to use it though if she wanted to get to her meeting on time, so she had tossed it in the glove compartment after a minute of use.

By the time Claire had gotten back to her car from meeting with the designers she was suffering from a small headache. The meeting had gone well enough, but it was a complete waste of time. All Claire did was nod her head in approval basically. She hated meetings like those. There were a million other things she could have been doing. She supposed the only reason she had been there was to instill fear into the staff and remind them of the standards they had to live up to. They never detoured inside the resort like she had hoped, so that was another sweltering, wasted 40 minutes of her life.

She had looked forward to driving back to her office to enjoy lunch indoors when she had gotten a phone call from one of the directors. There was a major brief happening later that day with Jurassic World's top veterinarian, and one of the directors working on the brief called her to come early, as they were dealing with an emergency that needed her input. She had stayed on the phone with the team as she drove over, and they queued her in on the scenario. She was basically approving the matter over the phone but she still needed to be there in person to see the situation through. By the time their little emergency had been taken care of, it was almost two hours past the matter, and it was now time for the regular scheduled briefing to occur.

This is how Claire found herself now at the main outdoor paddock, standing in the hot sun once again, not having had any break from the heat for the entire five hours she had been at work.

She was hungry, she had a headache, and God it was hot out.

She squinted as she looked around the paddock where herself, the vice president, top directors, the entire veterinarian department, head staff animal handlers, and a few select fellows, were meeting. Zara spotted her near the front of the group and came to stand by her side. Claire smiled at her in greeting and listened as Zara talked about her morning. Claire couldn't remember a word of what her assistant was saying, though. Claire kept zoning in and out of the conversation, tired from the morning she had. Though Claire lived on the island for about a decade now and was used to the Central American heat, she normally spent her work day indoors and wasn't used to spending long hours in the sun like this. It didn't help that she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Her stomach grumbled a little then, and she tried to ignore the empty concave of her stomach and instead focus on the head veterinarian as he called the briefing to a start.

The brief began outdoors of the paddock, the sun still high in the sky and the heat peaking at the hottest hours of the day. It must have been well over a hundred degrees by now and the humidity was still suffocating. They thankfully moved indoors as they walked through the animal hospital, though the air was stuffy and warm from all the bodies in the room. That's when she noticed Owen Grady in their small crowd. He was standing near a few people she recognized to be animal handlers. He walked with that confident swagger he usually wears, and Claire felt her stomach somersault at the sight of him. She inwardly groaned as the butterflies in her stomach and added flush in her cheeks did nothing to help her feel any better in handling the heat. Her bangs were starting to stick to her forehead. She hoped she didn't look too much of a mess. Immediately, she scolded herself in her thoughts for being worried about what she looked like in front of Owen Grady of all people. She was not going to give that meat-head, scoundrel of a man anymore attention, no matter how handsome he was, nor how his voice dipped when he talked to her. Her stomach flipped again and she cursed in her thoughts. She most certainly did not give any attention to his backside as he followed the group out of the room, most certainly not. She took a deep breath as she followed everyone outside to another paddock. Being one of the last few people to exit the hospital, she ended up standing in the unwanted spot directly in the sun, the rays beating atop her head, most likely making her skin burn as well. She couldn't remember the last time she reapplied her sunblock.

Squinting against the sun, she tried to focus on what the veterinarian was saying but just had to pretend by this point. Gosh, the heat was so strong she was starting to feel lightheaded, she thought. Good thing Zara was taking notes. Claire took another deep breath, resisting the urge to fan herself and willed her mind to stay awake and focused. The briefing was allotted two hours in her calendar. She already felt like they'd been there for five, so it couldn't last much longer. She told herself she just had to keep it together until the meeting was over, and then she could go back to her air conditioned office in peace.

Unconsciously, Claire smacked her lips together, tasting the dryness of her mouth. Her stomach was starting to feel uncomfortably empty, she noticed. If she had some privacy she could let herself falter, she thought, but she couldn't let the staff see her in this state. Sure, Claire was only human like the rest of them, but she didn't want the image of her stumbling away lightheaded living in anyone's mind, especially the staff she commanded. She needed people to respect her.

She swallowed again, her mouth feeling pasty, and then her stomach cramped. She stilled, her breath hitching, until her muscles released and then she took a relieving breath. This could not be happening now, she thought. Perhaps she should find someplace to sit down, but she hesitated at the idea. This briefing was important and she had to be here. Breaking her from her thoughts, she caught some movement in her peripheral vision. Her eyes widened at recognizing Owen Grady standing at her right. She quickly collected her facial expression, hoping he didn't notice her surprise. Was he standing next to her the entire time, she thought? She spared another glimpse his way and tried not to notice the way his hand rested on his hip, or the way his other hand smoothed over his scruff, or how his musky scent drifted over from where he stood. Her cheeks flushed then, and heat swelled through her entire body. A wave of lightheadedness went through her again, and she wasn't sure if she swayed in her footing or if it only felt like she did. She spared a glance at Owen again and he seemed closer to her than before. Did she do that or did he, she wondered. Gosh, her stomach felt awful.

She tested her tongue in her mouth again, detecting a funny taste building up. She had no idea what the head veterinarian was talking about anymore. All she could focus on was the feeling of the sun beating down on her skin, and the beads of sweat trickling down her hairline, making her bangs stick to her forehead. Hot. She felt so hot. She briefly registered Zara's voice and then suddenly a shadow blocked the glaring sun from her eyes. Staring straight ahead, it took her a second to realize Owen Grady stood in her vision. She looked around to see the small crowd dispersing. She hadn't even realized the brief ended.

She heard Owen say her name then, and she turned back to him, finding it difficult to look up into his eyes.

"You okay?" Owen asked. He sounded a little fuzzy in her ears, though she recognized the concern in his voice even if she couldn't see his face.

Another wave of lightheadedness made her delay in response. "Fine," was all she was able to breathe out. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to hold onto his arm to steady herself and started to step towards the animal hospital. Her head instantly felt like it was trying to float away as she walked too quickly. Owen's hand pressed hot to her back, keeping her balanced.

He said something she didn't register and she found it comforting, but at the same time his warm breath was on the skin of her cheek and it made her stomach coil even more than it already was.

She didn't realize he was guiding her inside the animal hospital until the door closed behind them.

"The heat," she managed to breath out as she followed him to where she knew there was a private break room. Owen walked them too fast for her liking, though she knew they were walking slowly anyhow, and she feared she would faint on the way there, tightening her grip on his hand that she was apparently holding. The moment Owen opened the door to the small break room the cold air hit her face and she felt instant relief. She stepped through the door and breathed in the cold like she was gulping down ice water. She stumbled immediately into a chair at the small round table in the center of the room and rested her head in her hands, closing her eyes. One of her hands quickly moved to her stomach when she felt it tighten with another wave of nausea. She couldn't help the small cry that escaped her lips at the feeling.

"Claire." Owen pushed her hair out of her face. His strong voice helped her focus her mind.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," she panted, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt Owen brush her hair once more before leaving her side and heard him rumbling through the cabinets of the kitchenette. Claire continued to breathe in the cool air and felt her head steady to a slightly less floating sensation.  It calmed her down a little and her heartbeat started to regulate.

"Drink this." She heard Owen's rough voice and then something thumped onto the table. She blinked her eyes open to half-lidded and saw an opened bottle of water in front of her.

She just stared at it for a moment, not having the strength to move right away. Then she lifted the hand from her stomach and reached for the water, raising her head just enough so she could take a drink. Owen sat to her right, fumbling with whatever else he brought over to the table, she didn't know what. Her stomach churned as she brought the water closer, but she knew she should at least try to drink something. She brought the bottle to her lips and took the smallest sip. When she swallowed she felt another wave of nausea, and she scrunched her face, turning away and setting the bottle back on the table.

"Try to drink some more," he prompted her softly.

"Mm." She shook head, still scrunching her eyes closed. "Nauseous," she explained, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her head on her hand again. She panted lightly as she gazed mindlessly in front of her, her heartbeat picking up again.

She heard Owen move something plastic around. "Here. This will help," he said.

She gasped as an icy cold sensation landed between her shoulder blades and then quickly relaxed, almost groaning at how pleasurable it felt. A shiver ran through her body and she sighed as she relaxed more, leaning her elbows further and sinking into the table. Her head slid in her hand as she tilted to look sideways, meeting Owen's eyes for the first time since being in the room. She just blinked at him as he stared at her, and then she closed her eyes again, too tired to focus on anything.

She relaxed like that for a minute before she felt Owen moving the ice pack up to the back of her neck. She breathed deeply again in relief.

"How are you feeling?" Owen asked softly.

Claire's head was still floating and her stomach a little sick, but she could feel her mind starting to come back to her at least. She sat up the slightest bit, still propping her head up by her chin.

Claire licked her lip before speaking. "A little better," she admitted, her voice slightly hoarse so she cleared it. She blinked at him, finally able to hold her focus on Owen clearly. His gaze was soft and there was a pretty shine in his eyes, she thought. Her stomach somersaulted for non-sick-related reasons, and she had to break eye contact with him in order to steady herself. She couldn't find the strength to lift her head from her hand, so she held the weight of it as she stared at the first aid kit Owen found, seeing the open wrapper of an instant cooling pack, not unlike one of the ones she used earlier today.  "Mmm...I'm a little lightheaded. And nauseous still," she informed him. She lifted her free hand to grasp at the ice pack Owen held to her neck, and he argued with her not to bother. She grasped around his fingers anyway, noticing how cool his hand felt in comparison to hers, and told him she wanted the pack at her forehead, in which case he gave way and let her move it to where she wanted.

She held the pack against her head, closing her eyes as she absorbed the cold, glad to have the heat disappearing from the palm of her hand as well. It felt like her mind was waking up more with every passing minute, which she was grateful for. She heard Owen shuffle in his seat, then.

"Did you eat today?" His voice was tender still.

"Just breakfast," she responded honestly, and she heard the creak of the chair as he got up and rummaged around the kitchenet.

Her hands finally started feeling a normal temperature as she moved the ice pack to her left hand and leaned her temple into the pack, reveling in the cold soaking straight into her pulse point. She took in another deep breath and opened her eyes. She couldn't see Owen, just the empty chair he sat in before. She looked to her right using just her eyes, too tired to turn her head, and saw the blurry image of Owen in the corner of her vision, standing over the counter.  The refrigerator hummed annoyingly in the background.  She couldn't tell what Owen was doing, but she liked that she got to gaze at him, even in this blurry state. His shape came into focus as she followed him with her eyes as he returned to her. He placed a sports drink on the table, along with an opened box of crackers. She followed a drop of condensation with her eyes as it rolled down the length of the bottle when she heard his voice again.

"I know your stomach isn't feeling well, but you should try to get something in your system," he urged mildly, and she turned her gaze to his face.

His hazel eyes stared back at her, waiting. She inhaled as she looked back to the sports drink. She felt like she was coming back to her senses enough. She could try again at holding down a drink, she thought. Lifting her head from her hand for the first time since she came into the room, she let the ice pack slide from her temple down to her neck and held it there until she had to use both her hands to open the drink. She tried to unscrew the cap but it was sealed tight, and she didn't have the grip strength to try harder. Owen took the bottle immediately from her hands and opened it without effort, before placing it back in front of her and mumbling an apology.

"Thanks." Claire suppressed a smile. Gingerly, she lifted the drink to her lips and paused before taking a sip of the artificially bright yellow liquid. The moment the ice-cold drink filled her mouth her mind instantly woke up, her eyes widening as she pursed her lips at the strong sugary, citrus flavor before gulping it down. She blinked a few times and felt herself straighten up a little in her chair.

"There she is!" Owen's voice boomed throughout the small room and almost made her jump in her seat.

She turned towards him and saw the grin on his face that she knew would be there, the smile reaching his eyes and making them twinkle a certain way that she tried desperately not to find adorable.

She sat still for a moment, gauging the cool feeling in her throat and the way the cold liquid settled in her stomach. Her nausea didn't feel any worse, so she chanced another drink. It felt good.

She slouched in her chair again, resting her head on her hand as she held the ice pack behind her ear and looked at Owen. Her head was no longer floating, instead feeling a little heavy now, like a pressure headache had built up from her brain having melted in the sun. She took another drink, feeling the cold liquid settle in her stomach. She finally processed the whole of what happened here, and suddenly, she felt very intimate with Owen Grady. He was still looking at her with a smile in his eyes, and her heartbeat picked back up.

"You're looking better," he stated. "Your color’s gone back to normal."

She felt herself wanting to hide her face at his notice of her color, instead just faltering her gaze before looking back at him.

"Thank you,” she started, “but you didn't have to do this." Claire felt the urge to deflect his attention, hardly getting out the sentence before Owen started protesting.

"I had to make sure you were okay, Claire," he interrupted her, but she spoke on top of him, saying she would have been fine on her own to which his facial expression immediately objected.

"You were p-practically fainting, Claire. I couldn't ignore that. I had to make sure you were alright." He cut himself off then, and she wondered how strong his worry for her was. She thought his face said it enough, with his intense stare and the way he shook his head like he couldn't think of words to say. She noticed how his chest puffed as he breathed deeply and recalled how sharp his voice was just now. She thought she'd go easy on him and just accept his concern.

"Thank you," she gave honestly. She had to admit, it was sweet of him to stay with her and care for her in the first place. It was nice knowing someone cared. Or at least she let herself be hopeful enough or delusional enough, she wasn't sure which, to think he really cared, not just about the safety of a person, because she knew Owen would help anyone who needed it, but that he cared about her.

"I'm okay, now, Owen. Thank you, honest, but you don't have to stay," she regretted saying the words as soon they came out of her mouth, not wanting him to leave and more than that, seeing the way his eyes shifted away from hers. She didn't want him to think she wanted him to leave so she quickly added, "I mean, you're welcome to stay, but...you don't need to. I don’t want to hold you up." She fisted her hand in her lap. She couldn't understand how she could be commanding a boardroom one minute, and then when it came to this man she could hardly look him in the eye. Her stomach flipped and it made her nausea act up a little, a sour taste coming into her mouth. She cleared her throat and took another sip of the sports drink to bring a pleasant taste back.

"You're not holding me up." A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth, and she was glad to have said something right. His gaze quickly changed as he looked her over. "I'll leave, though, if you want to be alone," he hesitated and started to rise from his seat, and before she knew it she'd blurted out for him to stay.

Owen immediately froze, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Stay," she said again more clearly, processing her words this time. "I want you to...if you want to," she finished, finding it hard to keep eye contact with him. Her heart beat harder, and she felt the repercussions of it in her pounding headache.

Owen relaxed back into his seat, keeping his gaze locked on Claire.

"I want to," he replied softly. She noticed his eyes doing that twinkling thing again, and she had to look away. She scolded herself internally for her weakness.

"Then it’s settled," she ended, composing her thoughts and shifting the pack against her other temple.

Claire's stomach dropped when she saw a cheeky grin spread across his face.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day Claire Dearing admits she wants me around," he said, leaning into her space with his elbows on the table, and she instantly regretted making him feel comfortable in this situation. She ignored the musky scent that filled her space and rolled her eyes halfheartedly, her head feeling funny when her eyes went too far back.

"Don't make me regret asking you to stay," she warned, turning her head away from him and leaning against her other hand. "Can't imagine what would make me ask you to stay in the first place," she continued despite herself. "Oh, yeah, maybe the delusion from having my brain fried in the sun," she finished her statement by giving him a pointed look before turning back around. She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to roll them when she heard him chuckling behind her.

"Yep. You must be feeling better if you're already picking a fight with me," he laughed.

Shifting in her seat, she attempted to kick him under the table.

Owen scoffed.  "Ms. Dearing, that is the most unprofessional behavior I've ever witnessed." Owen faked offense.

"Then good thing no one's here to witness," she replied easily without any strength behind the statement.  She turned back to face front, eyes blinking before falling inevitably closed, her headache still evident.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to take this up with the boss," he continued.

She turned to Owen this time and opened her eyes, half-lidded, and smiled slightly.

"Lucky for me, then, I'm the boss." She held his stare and her smile grew when he cracked a toothy grin. Only then did she twist back front to rest.

There was a moment’s pause between them and then Owen spoke up again.

"Is that still cool enough for you?" he asked.

"Mm, 's fine," she hummed and continued resting. She took another drink from the bottle and they sat in silence for a few minutes, Claire dozing off with her eyes closed and Owen just watching her. She felt the table move under her arms and could tell Owen leaned more into the table top. She heard his soft sigh.

"Do you need anything?" Owen asked gently, his voice so deep and so low and so close to her that it did things to her insides.

"Mm, no," Claire hummed in response, blinking her eyes a few times before giving back into her fatigue. "Thank you."

Owen's "OK" in response was so quiet she almost didn't hear it.

She let herself fall back into their comfortable silence, content to relax in his presence.

A couple of minutes had passed when Claire suddenly felt a tickle near her bangs. Her eyelids flinched at the sensation but she never opened them. She figured that was Owen touching her hair. She didn't mind exactly and allowed him to move the invisible strand of hair from her face, sighing lightly at his delicate touch. She wasn't sure what to make of the action or the fact that she let it happen, but it felt nice all the same.

He didn't touch her again after that and sat there with her silently for the next few minutes. After some time, Claire finally started to feel more like herself, her stomach mostly settled, fatigue wearing off, and headache greatly lessened.

She blinked her eyes open, taking a moment to adjust to the light of the room. Lifting her head from her hands, she turned to see Owen sitting up straight.

She supposed she should feel a little embarrassed right now about the whole situation but she didn't.

"You feeling better?" He looked her up and down once.

"Much better, yes." She nodded lightly and slowly made to stand up out of her seat. Owen followed suit and stood tall in front of her.

She tilted her head slightly to meet his eyes. She liked being able to actually look up at his face when she spoke this time.

"I should be getting back to my office," she noted regrettably, and Owen nodded in response.

"Do you need me to drive you back?" he offered, but she assured him she would be fine driving herself.

She didn't want to leave just yet, so she kept talking. "I had been outside all day," she explained, and he looked into her eyes and waited for her to continue. "My meetings had all taken place outside, and then something unexpected came up which distracted me from lunch. Of course all this happened on the day it decided to be over 100 degrees," she finished, looking up at him and he nodded still. She couldn't look away from his stare. His hazel eyes looked brighter than she remembered, maybe from all the sun they've been getting this week.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Owen finally spoke, his voice coming out tight, and suddenly she felt their close proximity, unsure of who even closed the gap between them.

Claire cleared her throat and broke eye contact first, taking a step back. "Well, thank you, Owen." She couldn't possibly call him Mr. Grady like she usually did, not after the way he looked after her just now. She hoped the look in her eye conveyed how much she appreciated his care.

"You're welcome, Claire," he replied softly, and she met his eyes once more before turning to move towards the door. Placing her hand on the knob, she spared him one last glance, keeping the image of him smiling softly at her in her mind as she left the room.  She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she closed the door behind her and let it out.

She managed to get back to her office safely and spent the rest of the day inside, only half paying attention to her work, one, because she was still recovering from heat exhaustion, and two, if she were honest, mainly because she kept remembering Owen Grady. After the way he cared for her and stayed with her it was difficult not to let herself indulge in those thoughts just a little bit. She couldn't get the image of his stare out of her mind and pondered if she should finally give in to the urge to go on a date with him. She let her mind wander in out of those thoughts as she worked and by the end of the day, realized she didn't get nearly as much work done as she should have. If anyone asked she'd blame it on the heat, but she knew to blame it on Owen Grady.

[freakrenaissance]

Sloooooowly realizing that I can't find any of my favorite clawen fics because they're all so awesome, they're being turned into novels 😍 😭 😏 ::sigh:: bittersweet fangirl problems

Any insights or links are much appreciated! 😆

Update! I found a bunch! Search clawen on my page here 😍 back on the hunt this weekend!

[clairedgrady]

Hi! I’m planning to write my Jurassic World fanfictions here so stick around to read those.

I was wondering if anyone would be so kind as to explain all about how things work over on this corner of the internet? For the past year or so I’ve been on wattpad using prompt generators and stuff, but I’d really love it if people would give me some cute, fluffy Clawen prompts to use. 🥰

I think that’s all I have to say right now, so I’ll just go ahead and post this…

[dearest-alexander]

Miss Perky is me when I’m writing smut for my fics. 

[simonelunarose]

https://simonelunarose.tumblr.com/post/686780825287770112/can-we-be-a-family-simonelunarose-jurassic

New Chapter for my FF.

[heartbrealove]

Did I ghostwriting an Claire and Owen fanfic?

[flopughsgirl]

have you read The Evolution of Claire? can you write a fic where Claire tells Owen what happened 🥺

YESSSS.

I have read it and omll. I was planning on doing something like this anyway so I will deffo do write something about it.

(I’ll just edit this post when I get round to it)

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

#233 - Abandonment

ANON: Owen and Claire get into an argument and one of them leaves to blow off steam but Maisie gets upset

ANON: love to read your take on Maisie calling Owen and Claire, dad and mom for the first time

I honestly cannot hold onto fics that long. As soon as they’re done I need to give them to you. It’s killing me. 

AO3

ABANDONMENT

The skies had rumbled before. Angry clouds rolling over the other as they shattered above house and home, frightening children in their beds. Owen’s voice, when he was mad, rumbled, crackling overhead as it left the trailer and loomed over the young girl.

She hadn’t heard two people fighting before.

Mr Mills had raised his voice once or twice, but that was almost a long time ago now. He had only ever done it in frustration towards her, irritated that she was asking simple questions or invading his space. Never had she heard him yell at another person who was roaring back. It wasn’t as mad as this, as angry and hateful as their words muffled inside the tin shell, forgetful of Maisie playing in the giant tree beside the half-finished cabin. Mr Mills was nothing compared to her newfound parents, her careers yelling at each other so loudly she could hear them behind closed doors.

She jumped when Claire burst out of the trailer, door hitting the side of their mobile home with a bang that chased up her spine in cold chills. Maisie dropped from the tree, watching as Claire marched across the grass a few steps, Owen’s head appearing in the doorway, calling to her before she turned back him. ‘Fuck you, Owen!’ She yelled, cheeks red and eyes blazing, every inch of her radiating irritation. Maisie stood still not drawing attention to herself as she watched cool, calm and collected Claire lose it.

‘If it bothers you so much, just go!’ He yelled back, dismissive, words spitting as Maisie felt her heart stop. No. She didn’t want Claire to go anywhere, her eyes darting between the two adults as she opened her mouth, wanting to say something but unsure of what.

‘I’m going!’ Claire retorted as he turned his back before she finished, trailer door slamming shut behind him. ‘Don’t expect me to come back!’ She taunted, getting in the final word before she turned and stalked towards her car. Maisie couldn’t breathe, could barely move until she saw the flash of the Mercedes unlocking.

She pushed forward, forcing her legs to move as her knees threatened to give in. ‘No!’ Maisie warbled, ‘Don’t go!’ But her voice wasn’t loud enough to reach Claire, the woman barely batting an eyelash, her back to the girl. ‘He’s sorry.’ She whispered, unable to make her voice any louder than it was. ‘He didn’t mean it!’ She apologised for Owen, trying to make good on the adult situation that had exploded in front of her. She was sure it was Owen’s fault. He was the one who said go, he was the one who needed to apologise and, Maisie could make sure he did that.

Claire couldn’t leave. Everyone left Maisie in one way or another. The idea of a mother, father and a normal childhood. Iris went. Grandfather died. Even the kindness Mr Mills used to bestow upon her left. The childish innocence she had disappeared with the revelation that she wasn’t just like everyone else, that something born of heartbreak made her an abomination. She didn’t want Claire to leave because she had hung all her hopes on that woman. Maisie had pressed promises into the space between Claire’s fingers and each strand of her hair while the night moved past her, wide awake as she struggled with nightmares.

She had attached herself to Claire, bound her life with hers and it was nowhere near fair that the woman was leaving.

She tripped when the engine started, unable to keep her feet under her body as the car door slammed shut. Maisie fell to the grass; shoe caught on a sturdy vine. Her knees began to sting, the telltale sign that she had scrapped them as she watched Claire’s car pull away from their cabin site and disappear down the dirt road.

[…]

Inside the trailer, Owen was trying to calm himself down. His fists clenched, fingers rolled into a tight grip as he refrained from punching the wall. She had a bad habit of driving him insane. Her fight or flight twisting itself into a morbid want to abandon all things right for her. Claire wasn’t coping. He knew it, saw the signs but chose not to handle it before things exploded.

She’d take a few days, calm down and come back with a solution. She always did. If not, Owen would reach for her, compromise or bend to her original wants. In the centre sat his cabin and van. They hadn’t talked about it. Just picked up life in the backwoods and carried on. It turned itself into a problem.

‘This might work for you, but it doesn’t work for us! For her. She needs something stable and social. She’s been living on her own in a manor her whole fucking life, Owen. She needs to see more than the god damn woods.’

Owen was taking deep breaths through his mouth, trying to loosen the tension in his neck when he heard it. The howl was human, unbearably distraught as it tore through a young throat. It didn’t take him long to figure out who was making the noise on their vacant property as he flew out of the trailer to find Maisie sitting in the middle of the yard, legs tucked under her body, clothes streaked with dirt as her hands fisted mounds of earth.

They had seen her upset and had nursed nightmares and daytime fears. This was different; this was Maisie with as much heartbreak as her chest could muster. She was a little girl falling apart. ‘Hey, hey, hey, what happened?’ He was by her side in a second flat, trying to untangle her fingers from the grass with one hand as the other scooped her into his lap.

She didn’t look hurt. There was a graze on her knee, but in the weeks that they had her free and wild in the mountains around Owen’s property, she had braved much worse.

‘You’re okay, Maisie.’ She was shaking her head, unable to speak as her chest rose and fell in small movements, her lungs not allowing her to breathe in more than an inch at a time. ‘Breathe, kid.’ He was trying to encourage, taking deep breaths himself as he focused on the softness of his touch, the way he held her like she was the most precious thing he ever had. She had filled that position right beside Claire in a matter of weeks. He wanted what was best for her, but neither adult could agree on what that was.

‘Maisie,’ his voice was stern as he sat her up, bending his head to meet his green eyes with her wet brown. She hadn’t stopped crying, tears falling hard and fast as she sobbed like the world was ending. ‘You need to stop this.’ He was concerned, watching her chest catch as her cries continued. She was only going to make herself sick.

She shook her head, hand lifting curled fingers to her lips as she pulled on her chin another howl ripping her throat into ribbons as he couldn’t help but get upset himself. ‘My m-mom.’ She cried, finally getting words past her cries as her head continued to move from side to side, gaze falling on the dirt path that led back to town. ‘Gone.’

Owen felt his shoulders relax. His tension shifted no longer concerned about his argument with Claire but the wellbeing of the girl in his lap. Something in his head stopped on mom and the childish way the word bubbled from her throat. It shouldn’t have been the way this happened. Claire should have been there when Maisie chose to anoint her with the title. She should not have said it under extreme duress, but happy giggles as they surprisingly tickled it out of her. ‘Oh, Mais, Claire will come back. She’s just gone for a drive.’ He promised.

She surprised him when her small hand hit him on the shoulder, pushing him with all her strength. ‘You told her to go!’ She screamed, voice shaking as a rage-filled her tear soaked eyes. ‘Just like Mr Mills, you sent her away!’ He let her go, his heart shattering as Maisie found the strength to scamper away from him, only stopping at a few feet.

He hadn’t been that bad. He knew it. Knew that Claire always needed a breather to blow off steam before resolving their problems. Maisie didn’t know what the fought about, only heard muffled words. He had been painted as the bad guy. In an instant, she deflated him as he watched the girl curl in on herself, cries growing louder. They shouldn’t have been arguing near her in the first place. Should have waited until the weekend Karen had scheduled to come to visit, using her sister to usher the girl out of their presence so they could have at each other’s throats in peace.

He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t a father, had barely been a guardian to the girl since they got her. Hell, he didn’t even know how they still had her or why in their right minds Claire insisted on keeping her. He loved Maisie. Nothing would change that now. Owen just wasn’t too sure how exactly they ended up being the right kind of people to keep her. The nightmares were one thing. He considered himself an expert in PTSD … especially the dinosaur related type. Maybe it was better to rehabilitate her and then release the girl to a better livelihood. But, she had called Claire mom, and that had just about solidified them as hers forever.  

Maisie made herself sick, her hyperventilated crying too much for her small body as her stomach expelled itself onto the grass.

‘Oh, sweetheart.’ His chest ached, Owen desperate to reach for her but scared of the backlash she had already proven she was capable of. It took ten seconds for Maisie to recover, realising that she needed him before she shuffled over and curled into his arms. ‘She’s coming back, I promise.’ Maisie cried against his shoulder, a mix of her upset emotions and stomach soaking his shirt.

He lifted her, one arm under her bent knees while the other supported her back, carrying her back inside the trailer where she would be more comfortable. She threw up again, Owen managing to fetch a bucket just in time as Maisie leaned over the end of the bed, her face a little green.

Despite how much her body was telling her to stop crying, she couldn’t. Owen had failed when he handed her a glass of water. He didn’t want her to dehydrate herself, leaving her head aching and her face sore. Her hands shook as she held the glass, gulping it down before she handed it back to him with wide, expectant eyes. The water only brought on more tears, and when she emptied it into the bucket five minutes later, he knew they had a problem.

‘I want Claire.’ Maisie hiccoughed between her cries when he asked her what would make this better. He was hoping it would be a Twinkie stashed in the back of the cupboard. They had a large stash of confectionary that she could choose from, but instead, she wanted the one thing he was hesitant to give her.

He called Claire anyway, panic twisting in his fingers as he watched Maisie curl in on herself again. She had tangled herself in the blankets; her arms wrapped tight around Claire’s pillow as he listened to the dial tone over and over. He called her three times before he realised she wasn’t going to answer. Instead, he sent a text hoping the Bluetooth in her car would read it aloud.

[…]

Everything stopped when her car spoke. ‘New text message from Owen. Something is wrong with Maisie. You need to come back.’ It read in its robotic voice, pitch diving up and down across the words as Claire hit the breaks and turned her car around.

She had conjured up the worst possible scenarios on her return to the cabin; sure she would arrive to find the girl bleeding, unconscious or gone altogether. The property was still when she arrived, her anxiety making it quiet as she approached the trailer and stepped inside. ‘Is everything okay?’ She asked, peering into the space as she sought out the man and girl she had left there.

‘Claire?!’ Maisie’s voice croaked, trying for a squeak but her throat was too sore. She didn’t see the girl she moved so fast, flinging herself off the edge of the queen sized bed as arms and legs wrapped themselves around Claire with a vice-like grip. She wrapped her arms around the girl in response, eyes squeezing closed as she tightened her hold, matching the pressure the child was supplying.

‘Are you alright?’ She asked, pulling her head back to try and see Maisie’s face, her hand stroking through the girl’s damp hair. Owen was sitting on the edge of the bed, his body not catching her attention until he moved, trying to slide past her with a bucket of sick. ‘Were you sick, baby?’ Claire asked, hand sliding from Maisie’s head, down her back and back up again before her fingers found her forehead checking the girl’s temperature. Maisie nodded. ‘You’re a little warm.’ She didn’t know what was warm or too hot with just her hands, mental itinerary double checking what they had in the first aid kit in the trailer. Mostly bandages for building accidents.

She felt Maisie tense. ‘Bucket,’ Claire called for Owen, instinct warning her as she felt the man at her back the exact second Maisie tilted in her arms. She threw up again, not missing the container Owen was holding as Claire kept a firm hold on the girl, stopping her from falling.

Concern climbed up her spine, nesting itself between her temples as she frowned down at Maisie in her arms. Resettling herself, Maisie started to cry again, biting on her knuckle as she pressed her cheek to Claire’s chest, tears falling on her skin. ‘You’re alright.’ Claire soothed, trying to shuffle around the small space as she soaked a cloth in the kitchenette before applying it to Maisie’s forehead. Owen stayed out of her way, watching Claire’s movement, careful not to get a purposeful elbow to the gut as she passed. ‘What happened?’ She asked, sitting with Maisie on the edge of the bed, girl wrapped around her torso and refusing to let go.

‘I thought you weren’t never gonna come back.’ Maisie warbled, tears seeping back into her words as her hands locked tighter between Claire’s shoulder blades. She thought there was still a chance that was going to happen, but if she anchored herself to Claire, there would be no way they could tear her away. ‘I called out to you.’ She hiccoughed, fingers in her mouth, playing with her teeth. ‘But you didn’t listen.’ Her sobs started again, Claire quick to soothe her as she rocked the girl slightly promising it was all in the past. She was there now.

‘I didn’t hear you, sweetheart.’ She apologised, hand taking a large circle across Maisie’s back as she kissed the top of the girl’s head, wishing they had a bath they could put her in. Another mental strike against trailer life.

Owen had disappeared, making himself scarce, the bucket with him while Claire made herself comfortable in the centre of the bed, Maisie lying directly on top of her, grip not letting go. ‘I don’t feel well.’ Her words wobbled, mouth drew into a pout as Claire felt the girl’s chin shake against her chest.

‘I bet you don’t.’ She rubbed at Maisie’s back with two hands now, slow and sure movements. ‘Why don’t you close your eyes, okay? I’m right here. I’ve got you, baby.’ She reassured the girl, closing her own eyes at the same time, back propped up with pillows as she held the girl like she was an ailing infant.

They were quiet, Maisie’s breathing evening out as it returned to a regular pattern, her deep breaths following Claire’s. ‘Am I too much?’ Maisie asked, sniffling as she turned her head, nose dragging across Claire’s chest. Claire felt her breath catch, heart aching that the girl felt the need to ask such a question. She felt overwhelmed at times, unsure of the bond and relationship she was forming with the girl. She knew that she was taking on the parental role, but Claire had nothing to prepare her for that, no guidance other than Owen who’s view on parenting was somewhat different from hers. ‘I can be a good girl, Mama.’ Her heart shattered, officially breaking apart and spitting itself out into the atmosphere. She was too much sometimes. Her desperate need to feel loved, wanted and needed was overbearing. Claire didn’t know what to do with it. Ultimately, it was sweet, precious, still somewhat heartbreaking to hear the girl required constant reassurance that she was enough for them. They were committing themselves to her and were not planning on looking back. She was theirs.

Hearing her plead for an opportunity to stay, calling Claire mama in the process was too much. She felt the tears prick her eyes but refused to let them be anything more than that. She couldn’t cry and wouldn’t, not at this moment.

‘Oh Maisie,’ she sighed. ‘You’re perfect.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m broken,’ she admitted causing Claire’s chest to further clench. ‘And needy.’

Claire didn’t even know where she had picked up the word. They certainly hadn’t said it, nor eluded to it in or out of Maisie’s presence. ‘It’s okay to need people.’ She couldn’t see her face, hands still running up and down her back as Maisie sighed heavily. ‘A little or a lot, you can need me. I don’t mind.’ She waited for a beat. ‘Mama’s are there to be needed.’ She used the girl’s word, taking on the title softly as she pressed a kiss to Maisie’s temple. ‘You don’t need to get this upset about it, Mais. Okay?’ The girl nodded. ‘I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.’

Maisie sniffled again, ‘but you did go. I wanted you to be my mom, and you went away like everyone else.’

‘I came back, didn’t I?’ She chuckled softly, pressing her lips to Maisie’s hair again. Owen returned to the trailer, their mobile home rocking upon his entrance as he paused in the small bedroom doorway to check over them, grimace on his face and heart on his sleeve. ‘I need you to know that if ever I walk out that door or any other, I will always come back to you.’ Her eyes met Owen’s, locking for a brief second before her gaze turned back to the girl lying on her chest. ‘You’ve got us for life, kiddo.’ There were still no promises on that, but Claire was sure she would fight tooth and nail to keep the girl with her no matter the cost. She had committed.  

They fell back into silence, still rubbing Maisie’s back as they lay there wasting away a lazy afternoon. ‘Are you still mad at Owen?’ Maisie asked, as his head turned back to them, ears picking up, hoping he would be called forward like the family pet.

Claire hummed. ‘Yes,’ she answered without hesitation, her eyes raising to meet his. ‘But, we’re grown-ups. Our problems are for us to solve. First and foremost, we care about you, Mais. We were arguing about what was best for you and I got a little hot headed about it. I needed to walk away for a little bit to let myself cool down.’

‘But you drove away, not walked.’ Maisie’s hand was tight on the side of her shirt, death-grip returning in memory of her earlier abandonment.

She saw humour flicker across Owen’s face, a smile pulling at his lips, his eyes on Maisie and not Claire. She supposed, somehow, he was drinking them both in. She wasn’t stupid. She knew how much this journey was challenging them but also how thrilled he was to see this side of their lives unfold.

‘Okay,’ she folded. ‘Next time I am mad about something I will go for a walk instead of getting in my car.’ She promised, despite knowing that the road helped her more than the trees. They were more Owen’s thing. Maisie hummed against her chest, breath warm on Claire’s collarbone. ‘How would you feel about moving to the city and staying in my apartment for a little bit?’ They had been out here long enough, and although she and Owen had not precisely agreed on the matter, this was a better opportunity than any other.

‘I like it out here.’ She lifted her head, brown eyes meeting Claire’s for the first time since she came back.

‘We can come back … on weekends.’ Owen offered, jumping in to compromise with Claire. He could have let her do this part-time. Could have told Maisie that she could come to visit whenever she wanted. Instead, he was volunteering his space and home to place them as his most important priority.

She nodded, ‘of course’. This wasn’t about them. It was about Maisie and what was best for her. If she enjoyed being out in the cabin with Owen two days a week, then Claire could live with it. She was getting the better end of the deal. Her apartment, her life, her job nearby. It was him who would have to make the compromises to fit his life with theirs. She could give him two days out of seven.

‘Will you still be my mom and dad in the city?’

Neither adult hesitated, their eyes meeting each other across the small space of the trailer’s bedroom. ‘Always.’ They answered. Claire tugged the girl back into another tight hug. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Claire reassured Maisie, her lips pressed to the girl’s cheek. She couldn’t. Not when they received that reaction from her.

‘Can you kiss and make up?’ Maisie asked, body still as she waited with bated breath. Claire nodded, her chin brushing against Maisie’s head while she sighed. The girl moved, pulling herself off Claire’s body, her hand still wrapped tightly around a fistful of her t-shirt, keeping hold just in case.  

Owen crawled over the mattress, meeting Claire at the headboard as Maisie watched their lips meet. The kiss was quick, a peck as to be child appropriate. Claire felt herself relax, the stressors from their earlier argument melting away with his skin on hers, apologetic and forgiving. Maisie was grinning at them when they pulled away, tears still sitting on her cheeks and her knuckle in her mouth. A smile was a smile. They could start with that.

‘Better?’ Claire asked, watching as the girl nodded. She reached a hand towards her, pushing Maisie’s hair out of her face. She had given them quite the scare, but evidently not as much as they had done to her. Maisie slipped back into Claire’s lap, taking up a space the woman was more than happy to give her.

[clawenlibrary]

Charade

Written by: ClosetObsession

"...That was the worst fake break up I've ever heard." "It wasn't fake," she said. "I really am breaking it off." "You really are breaking off a fake relationship? Do you even hear yourself?" he asked incredulously. -Claire and Owen pretend to be a couple to fend off exes at a holiday party. They then have to deal with word spreading around the park and Claire wanting to save face.

M - 85,976w

[backtothestart02]

Life with You and Me - 1/? | clawen fanfiction

A/N: I'm super excited about this AU! Hopefully it gets some traction in the fandom, but if not I will fully enjoy for myself bringing it to life. <3

...

Synopsis: AU - LIFE AS WE KNOW IT - After an attempted blind date from hell, Owen and Claire hope to never see each other again. That proves impossible after a fatal car accident forces them to live in the same house and raise the kids they'd hoped to only be godparents to. Will they stay enemies forever or will life circumstances show them why his best friend and her sister thought they were so suited for each other from the start?

...

Chapter 1 -

“Do not read into it, Claire. Do not…” She finished re-applying her lipstick and her vanilla perfume. “Read into it.”

She’d finished getting ready an hour ago, but what was a touch up an hour later?

“He said he’d be late.” She plopped into her armchair and tapped her heel on the floor. “Scott said he’d be late.” She pursed her lips. “Well, no, actually my sister told me her fiancée told her that-” She stopped and shook her head, her short red haircut and bangs shaking with her. “It doesn’t matter. It does not matter. I’m sure any minute now…”

Ding-Dong!

“Finally!” she muttered under her breath, jumping to her feet and straightening out her leather pencil skirt and adjusting her push-up bra one more time. He’d better be worth it.

She flung the front door open and smiled brilliantly. Her heels helped her height some, but she still had to look up, only to find him with…a baseball cap on? Leather jacket and jeans. For a first date? No, blind date, she reminded herself. Blind date had less formality to it, right? And that was why-

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Owen.”

She blinked, realizing she’d gotten lost in her head again. She shook his hand, smiling pristinely.

“Claire.”

“Am I late?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Umm…she pursed her lips. “Not…not really, just like…an hour, but that’s okay.” She continued to smile like she was in pain. “I just finished getting ready a little bit ago,” she lied.

Silence fell down upon them.

“We should go, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely we should go.” He nodded.

Having shut off the lights and locked the door, they headed down the driveway.

“So, how long have you known Scott for?”

“Since high school,” he said.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, um, haven’t seen him in years actually, since I went into the navy.”

“Ohh, the navy. Thank you for your service.” She did a half-nod, then cursed herself for it. He was clearly unamused, only clearing his throat in response.

“You and Karen?”

“We’re sisters. I’m the baby.”

“Yeah, uh, I can see that.”

She bristled but decided to focus instead on the fact that the only car she saw parked on the street was her own. Her cute, little two-person car that she’d much rather be taking.

“Where’s your car?”

“Oh. Uh, actually…”

He walked over to a motorcycle, turning it on and throwing her a helmet, making her panic because of all the work she’d put into making her hair look perfect for the night. Forty-mile an hour winds and crushed under a bowling ball-shaped helmet? Her hair would be the shape of the helmet on the top half and curling on the bottom. Plus, there was no way she could get one leg even over onto the seat with the length of her skirt pinning her legs practically together.

But ‘Owen’ didn’t seem to realize any of this. He just kept talking about how he wouldn’t ‘read too much into’ her wrapping her arms around him while they rode through the city to their destination.

Her lips thinned. She tried for another placating smile, but it wasn’t working.

“How about we try my car instead, yeah?” She gestured to the little car, and his smile immediately fell, but hers brightened, and she felt relief and joy for the first time all evening. “I just bought it, and I love it.”

She didn’t check to see if he was equally enthused, only went straight to the driver’s seat and got in. She unlocked the doors and waited for him to get in, deciding not to focus on how cramped he was. His legs practically in his lap and his head bent slightly lest it bump into the ceiling.

She cleared her throat.

“It’s nice, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, where did you make the reservations?”

He gave her a blank look, and her joy plummeted.

“The reservations you said you were going to make. You didn’t make them?”

“I said that?”

“Well, Karen told me- you know, it doesn’t matter. How about we go to the place about five minutes away. My co-worker at the animal shelter I work at has been there a lot, and she’s a picky eater, so it’s probably not a bad-” She started to laugh nervously, only for a bizarre ring tone to start emanating from his jacket pocket.

They both turned to look at his pocket, where he not at all smoothly pulled it out.

“I should probably get this,” he said, after glancing at the caller ID. “Hey…you,” he said into the phone. “Yeah, uh-huh…uh-huh…maybe 11, probably?” He glanced over at Claire. “Why don’t we make it 10:30? Yeah, okay, bye.”

Claire’s eyes were still wide as saucers when he hung up.

“Sorry that was um…my…dog sitter.”

“Uh-huh.” She sighed. “You know, we don’t have to do this.”

“What?” He played the shocked, wounded date for about a second. “Okay.”

“Wait, are you serious?!” Her voice skyrocketed.

“Oh, come on, you knew from the minute you saw me you didn’t like me.”

“I didn’t like the way you dressed. I didn’t even know you. Though now I don’t like you, and I have good reason not to.” She huffed.

“Okay, so…”

“But no, my sister and your best friend set this up, the least we can do is respect their wishes and-”

“What? Force small talk for an hour? Best case scenario? We get drunk and hook up.”

“What kind of an asshole-”

“Oh, come on. I just want to have some fun. It’s a Saturday night. I’ll go…relieve my dog sitter, and you can do what you like to do on Saturday nights….what do you like to do, read? Paint your nails?”

Eyes squinted, she drummed her already painted nails on her steering wheel.

“Get out.”

“Okay, wait, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You want to go out? Let’s go out.”

She nearly snorted, turning to him for one last dig.

“Tip for your future dates? If you have any interest-”

“I don’t really actua-”

“Don’t come an hour late, and don’t make a booty call right in front of me!”

“I have a dog sitter for my three dogs. They were just checking in on-”

“With that ring tone? I don’t think so.”

He sighed, and she flung open her door.

“Get out of my car. I don’t know what Karen and Scott were thinking setting us up.”

“Yeah. Me either,” he muttered, struggling to get out but eventually making it to the outside world.

Claire locked the door over her shoulder and immediately called her sister, as Owen started up his motorcycle and sped off.

Karen hardly got half a word in before Claire exploded.

“The only way you can make this up to me is if you ensure I never have to see this lowly excuse for a man again.”

Karen winced on the other end.

“That bad?”

“You have no idea.”

[enchanted--realm]

People who write Jurassic Park/World fanfiction have a lot of patience to deal with the spelling of those dinosaur names. I just read a fic where I'm not even going to try to pronounce nor spell the dinosaur they mentioned twice now. That thing must have been 15 letters long. What even. Like, you really went and researched to write this thing. Your commitment is not going unnoticed. You are amazing and talented and thank you for trying to make things as realistic as you can. Bravo

[imagination-parade]

Heya! I’ve just started to read your Jurassic World fics and I love them. I’m up to ‘Nothing is Different (But Everything has Changed)’. This AU series is amazing!! Are you going to write anything that carries on from it? I hope you will. I’d love to see them on the island again and her as his boss!

Oh gosh, it’s funny you ask this because I would love to - I think those 3 stories are among the best things I’ve ever written - but every time I’ve thought about going back to that series in the past year, I’ve felt like it’s been so long that it’s just too late to do more.

There was supposed to be a 4th story with Claire & Owen’s first night back on the island, set the night before construction crews came to start re-building, and then another with the park’s re-opening, and yeah…I have notes upon notes for stories that were supposed to carry on from the fic you mentioned, but I was having a little trouble starting that 4th one, and then the show I was writing fic for at the time came back, so I got distracted, and then…I just never really got back to it. And now the 2nd movie’s turned it all into an AU, lol. But I still have all those notes - I read over them all the time.

Is it not too late?? Seriously. That’s a real question. I thought continuing at this point would be entirely self-indulgent & a waste of time when I could be writing things people would actually read, but if there’s still interest there, I’d love to go back to that world…

[s-h-saine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies), Jurassic Park (Movies) RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Claire Dearing & Owen Grady, Claire Dearing & Owen Grady & Maisie Lockwood, Claire Dearing/Owen Grady, Owen Grady & Maisie Lockwood, Claire Dearing & Maisie Lockwood Characters: Claire Dearing, Owen Grady, Maisie Lockwood Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Mom!Claire, dad!Owen, Clawen, Post Fallen Kingdom, Oral Sex, Drama & Romance, Post-Jurassic World, Jurassic World Spoilers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Canon, Road Trips, KidFic. Summary:

“What do you want to talk about, Owen?” she contested, weary.

“About that kiss you gave me,” he retorted.

“That kiss was out of despair.” she defended herself at once.

With one more cautious step, Claire noticed Owen everywhere around her, his hot mint breath blowing on her face, making her shiver.

“That kiss was out of love,” he stated back, phrasing it like it was the most final truth in the universe.

And, perhaps, it was.

[editswentworth7]

"I Always come back" - Owen Grady❤