#queerlander prompt exchange

[notameeksassenach]

VIP

Yes, I’m aware this is a little late. But better late then never right?!

Here is my second submission for @thelallybrochlibrary ‘s Queerlander Prompt Exchange.

PROMPT #8: “Wait, you’re not gay!? My bad….”

I don’t know where I would be without @theministerskat and her AMAZING beta skills. She takes my word vomit and makes it better.

“Come now, Jaime. It’s not that bad,” John said grabbing him by the hand and nearly dragging him into Madame Jeanne’s, the hottest strip club in Edinburgh. “I had to pull some strings to get us a VIP table for tonight.”

“I told ye, ye didna need to go all out for my birthday!”

“Nonsense. Just do me a favor and try to enjoy yourself.”

Bypassing the line of patrons waiting to get in, John flashed a smile at the bouncer. Nodding in acknowledgment, the bouncer unclasped the velvet rope and pulled it aside to allow the two men past. John Grey was well known at Madame Jeanne’s. In an effort to piss off his father, who had not been pleased with the news of his son’s attraction to other men, John liked to use his inheritance to support LGBTQ business and charities.

John was definitely in his element as they made their way to the VIP section. Jamie, his hand still in John’s, had no choice but to follow him. For one, he had no idea where they were going, this being his first time at this particular establishment, let alone in a strip club. For another, the lights, sounds, and throngs of people were enough to drive anyone’s sense wild. Multiple stages featuring various acts, dancers in cages, a row of private rooms that lined the back wall would disorientate anyone Trying to regain his bearings, Jamie noticed a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. That must be the VIP section, he thought. With one more glance around the club, Jamie felt John pull forcefully on his arm, and they ascended the stairs two at a time.

“Here we are!” John was clearly proud of the lounge he secured for the evening. Jamie offered him a weak smile. “Cheer up! It’s your birthday! Order whatever you want to drink and go take in a performance. Let me know if you see anything you like,” John said with a sly wink at Jamie.

Jamie ordered a double whisky, downing them in record time. If he was going to spend the night in a strip club with his gay best friend, he was going to need all the liquid courage he could get. John knew this wasn’t his scene; the two of them had been like brothers since university. Jamie enjoyed things at a slower pace. But John had insisted they spend the night out for Jamie’s birthday. And who was he to deny his best friend the chance to spoil him?

“Three minutes till show time!” Geillis announced as she made her way to the vanity, checking her makeup one last time.

“What stage did they assign us tonight?”

“We’ve the main stage tonight, Claire. Ye ken what that means? Likely to see triple the tips tonight. And if we’re lucky private dances!”

Claire couldn’t help but laugh at her best friend and dancing partner. The redhead always got so excited when they were assigned to the main stage, her eyes would light up like a bairn on Christmas morning. Claire didn’t nearly share the same excitement that Geillis did at being the center of attention, but she would welcome the guaranteed increase in pay. Money was tight this month and anything would help to lessen the burden.

With one final check of her outfit, Claire was ready.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Please give a hearty Madame Jeanne’s welcome to our next pair of lovely lasses,” Rupert, the MC for the night,, announced.

The sound of a heavy metal guitar came pumping through the speakers, filling the club. Just before the first verse kicked in, Jamie spotted the silhouettes of two women appear on the stage. Wrapped in contrasting outfits, they gracefully took their respective places.

The redhead had her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail and wore black leather. The brown haired dancer, whose dark curls fell in a cascade around her face, was clad in red leather. Both outfits featured corsets, expertly fitted to enhance their figures and cleavage. Matching panties left nothing to the imagination, allowing the patrons to see just how round the bonnie brown-haired lass’ arse truly was. Knee-high stiletto boots completed both their looks.

For someone who was less than interested in being at the club that night, Jamie had a hard time keeping his eyes off the entertainment. More specifically, the lioness with the curly hair. There was just something about her.

John couldn’t help but laugh when he realized the reason why Jamie failed to answer his question. Watching his friend mesmerized by the girls was a sight he never thought he’d witness. He knew right away what he was going to get Jamie as his gift tonight. Leaning closer to him, John touched Jamie’s arm in order to gather his attention. Needing no words, he merely cocked his head in the direction of the stage. A sly smirk formed on Jamie’s face as a reddening crept up his face.

Claire was never the type of performer that spent much of her time looking into the crowd. Focused on the routine and the job she was doing, she lost herself in the music. Given the fact that there was almost always strobe lights, spotlights, and fog machines running, it was a miracle if she was even able to make out the crowd.

But tonight was different. She could make out one particular patron above all the rest. It didn’t hurt that his build was much bigger than most of the men she saw at the club. And with his messy mop of red hair, whose copper tones had the tendency to catch the spotlight, he was easy to pick out in the dark club.

Continuing with her routine, Claire pushed the man from her thoughts. Grabbing the pole, she leaped into the air, allowing gravity to do its job as she spun her way down to the stage. Once her feet were back on the ground, she dropped to her knees. Keeping in time with the chorus of the song, she ran her hands down the length of her body. Paying close attention to graze her breasts, she licked her lips. As her hands came to rest on her hips, she whipped her hair into a cascade of curls around her face.

Getting back on her feet, Claire turned to Geillis. Biting her lip, Geillis, reached out to touch Claire’s face. With her hand on Claire’s cheek, she turned it towards her, capturing her mouth in a sensual kiss. This sultry show of affection was greeted by hoots and catcalls of the audience.

As the last notes of the song filtered through the speakers, the girls returned to their starting positions. In the split second that the house lights went out, they exited the stage.

Jamie was beside himself. That brown haired lass on the stage was breathtaking. He never expected to find someone that beautiful working in a place like this. But after watching her performance, he was convinced that he stood no chance with her. Clearly, she and her partner were just that, partners. There was no way a girl like that would ever be interested in a guy like him.

“Jamie! Earth to Jamie!” John yelled. “Where has your mind wandered off to?”

“Mmph. Sorry, John. Got a little caught up in the show,” he confessed, a slight blush creeping along the neckline of his shirt.

“Like what you saw? Well, you are in for a treat then. I’ve gotten you a special surprise for your birthday.”

“Oh aye?”

“Yes. A private dance with the girl of your choosing. So, Jamie, which lady makes the cut?”

Seated in one of the private rooms, Jamie wiped his sweaty hands on the thighs of his pants. Normally full of confidence, he wasn’t sure what to expect from a lap dance. With this being the first time he had ever been to a strip club, he never had the opportunity to receive one. He didn’t want to disappoint John by turning down his offer. John was after all his best friend, and he had gone out of his way to show Jamie a good time for his birthday.

It was times like these when Claire was thankful that she had the option to chose her clients. It was one of the reasons she came to work at this establishment in the first place. No one forced the performers and dancers into doing anything they were not comfortable with. Early on Claire had relied on her uncanny ability to spot bullshit a mile away. She could tell when some of the clients who requested her were only looking for an in. Looking for a way to get her into a position where they felt they had the upper hand.

Taking a deep breath, her hand resting on the handle of the door, Claire prepared herself for the task at hand. Geillis had been right, dancing on the main stage did result in them getting multiple offers for private engagements. Having several suitors to evaluate, and not wanting to deal with much more than getting paid, Claire had opted for the safest option.

Little was sure to happen with the club’s benefactor’s boyfriend. She would give him VIP treatment and would not have to worry about wandering hands. Not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, she opened the door.

Jamie’s breath caught in the back of his throat when she entered the room. She was stunning when she performed clad in leather on the stage, but this was completely different. Wearing a soft outfit of white silk organza, she looked ethereal. An angel that had just stepped down from a cloud.

Play it cool Fraser. Dinna get too excited, lad.

Wiping his palms on his pants once more, he noticed the dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Without saying a word, she flashed him a smile and strode purposefully towards him.

“Any requests, love?”

“I…” he swallowed audibly. “I’ve no had a lap dance before lass.”

Taking care not to scare him off, Claire stood in front of him. Placing her legs on either side of him, his knees between hers. Gently she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Then we’ll take is slow, shall we?”

Jamie’s eye never left Claire’s as she lowered herself onto his lap. He could just barely feel the contact when she rose again. He was no fool, he knew that the name of the game was to tease him. What he wasn’t sure of was whether or not he was allowed to touch. Ever the gentleman, he sat still and let her work her magic, all the while wondering if he needed to keep his hands off of the vixen in front of him.

Captivated by Claire’s movements, Jamie soon realized it was becoming more difficult to concentrate. It wasn’t long before he was unable to deny what was happening, his body clearly displaying the evidence that he was enjoying her dance.

“I wondered how long it was going to take me to get a rise out of you,” Claire said jokingly. “I usually have to pull out all the stops for John’s friends.”

“John’s friends?” Jamie questioned. “Do ye think because I’m here with him that it means I’m gay? Yer mistaken lass.”

“Wait, you’re not gay!?” Jamie registered the slightly shocked look on her face. “My bad…”

“Well as we are being honest with one another, what about ye, lass. Ye’ve clearly got a liking for the fairer sex given yer performance a while ago.”

“What?” Her English accent thick with want. It was as if knowing he was no longer of limits, her body was responding to his in a way she hadn’t experienced in quite a while. Taking care to show him just how straight she truly was, she ground her hips into his erection again.

“I’m not gay. And this isn’t something I normally do,” she said as she let her lips brush his. “But there is something unusual about you.”

Dropping her guard, she crushed her lips to his, taking his bottom lip playfully between her lips. She wasn’t lying, this was a line she never crossed with her clients. Unable to put her finger on just what spurred her actions on, she decided to just go with it.

It’s about time you had some fun, Beauchamp.

Jamie kissed her back eagerly and his hands traveled the length of her back, looking for access beneath the silky fabric. He was burning with the need to touch her, all of her. A jolt of energy transferred between the pair when his hand made contact with the flesh just above her hip. Slipping a finger under the string that held her panties on, he adjusted slightly beneath her to assist with ridding her of the garment.

Now that she was partially undressed, Claire turned her attention to Jamie, focused on getting him into the same state. Without taking her lips from his, her hands made quick work of unclasping his belt. She let it fall to the floor with a soft thud, hands returning to the button and zipper.

Jamie sighed as the strain of his excitement was released from its prison, his pants pooling at his feet. He ached to feel her warmth. Reaching to grab ahold of her hips, he caught nothing but air as she sank to her knees in one swift motion.

Looking up to make eye contact with him, Claire took him into her mouth. Focusing on the tip, she swirled her tongue around his member. It didn’t take her long to receive a moan of satisfaction from Jamie. She smiled in triumph and continued her work. Taking him in a far as she could, she quickly released him again, letting him feel the absence of her mouth. She repeated her movements several times before she abandoned his cockstand and turned her attention back to his mouth.

Not wanting Claire to have the upper hand any longer, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her towards him. Holding her close to his chest, he reached his free hand to touch the warmth between her legs. Lazily he traced her folds, enjoying the small noises that he was pulling from her. As he began to explore further, she began to squirm in his embrace. Gripping her tighter, he wasn’t about to let her go.

He continued his search until his calloused thumb found what it was looking for. Grazing lightly across her clit, she bucked her hips in automatic response. Jamie smirked, knowing full well what he was doing to her. When he was satisfied with her reactions, he slid a digit into her wetness.

She rode his hand, pushing herself closer to her peak when he suddenly stopped and removed his finger.

“What are you doing?” Claire questioned him.

“I dinna want ye to…no yet. Christ, I want ye Sassenach,” he murmured into her neck.

She settled herself on his lap, his tip positioned just at her entrance.

“Then take me,” she moaned as she slid herself over him, wrapping around him.

“Claire,” he said cautiously, searching for his discarded clothing. “Can I see ye again?”

With a wink, she grabbed his pants, reached in his pocket to pull out his phone. She quickly punched her number into the device before replacing it.

As she handed the garment back to him she replied, “Of course. And maybe next time you won’t have to pay for my services.”

Returning to the VIP section, John eyed Jamie curiously. He had the look about him of someone who was a very satisfied customer. He was thrilled to know that his birthday surprise had been appreciated.

“Enjoying yourself then, Jamie?”

“Aye. ‘Tis a Happy Birthday after all.”

[owlish-peacock36]

Same Old Faith: One Shot Ficlet

Queerlander Prompt for @thelallybrochlibrary

PROMPT #40: Faith lives and comes out as a lesbian to her parents in either the 18th century or a modern setting

I suppose my premature birth was a prelude to my life. A life of failures and disappointments.

The moment I was born, I was already a failure. A failure at living, a failure at breathing. A three pound baby surviving only because she was within an incubator. That was only the beginning.

And then there was my slow development as a toddler. That must have been an adventure for my parents: a child that couldn’t walk and talk at two years of age.

And then came Brianna. Beautiful, vibrant, charismatic Brianna. She was and is everything I’m not. Tall, outgoing, lovely without even trying. Now, don’t get me wrong. Bree is the most incredible sister anyone could ask for. But, sometimes even love was tainted with envy.

Then, Alex. The boy of the family. Smart and kind, he’ll probably end up a doctor like Mam. That’s just something I can’t compete with.

So here I am. The first-born. I fade in the background, and blend in with the walls. Never one for confrontation. Or conversation, for that matter.

Perhaps that’s one reason why I still haven’t told my parents I’m gay.

Or perhaps I don’t want to disappoint them again.

Either way, that was a secret I kept close to my heart. But I knew, realistically, I’d have to tell them someday.

***

“Are ye okay, Faithy? Yer quiet.”

“I’m always quiet, Bree. I like to leave the talking up to ye.”

She scoffed at me, flipping a curtain of red hair behind her shoulder. “Ye ken what I mean. Quieter than usual.”

“Aye, I’m okay.”

“Yer lying.”

“Aye. I’ve got a lot on my mind, is all.”

Bree wheeled her desk chair over to me, pulling my hands into hers. “Do ye need to talk about it?”

How did I ever get so lucky with a sister like Bree?

“I dinna think it’s something ye can help me with.”

“Maybe not. But I’m here to listen.”

“Not just yet. Maybe soon. But not yet.”

***

Sunday evening family dinner. Tonight was the night; I had decided. It was simply a matter of what to say.

Mam, Da. I’m gay.

Mama, Daddy…

I like women. Like, I really like women.

Lesbian…

Jesus. Why was this so hard?

Straightening up, I looked at myself in the mirror. Confidence is key.

Ugh, same old Faith. The smallest in the family. Same red curls, same brown eyes, same freckled nose.

I was the same. Of course I was the same. Being gay doesn’t change a person.

I just hoped my parents thought so as well…

***

“Mam? Can we have ice cream for dessert?”

“Alex, sweetheart. We had ice cream last night.”

“I ken, but here’s the thing… I think we should have it again.”

We all giggled. Alex: a regular comedian.

“Aye, alright!” Da interrupted the laughter. “We’ve got mint chocolate and rocky road…”

So, dessert. Dinner had come and gone, and secrets were still hidden. Damn it, Faith.

“...Rocky road for Bree, and half-and-half for Faithy.” Da sat the bowl in front of me before placing a peck on my head. This was going to be difficult.

“Mam? Da? Bree, Alex? I’ve… I need to tell ye something.”

“You’re pregnant?!” Mam dropped her spoon in mock horror. So, that’s where Alex gets his humor.

“No! No, no, no. I… I just…” Deep breath. Quickly, like a bandaid. “I’mgay.”

For the first time that evening, the house was completely silent.

Bree spoke first. “Is that what was bothering ye?”

A knot formed in my throat: I couldn’t speak. So, I simply nodded.

“Oh, Faith…” That was Mam.

“Were ye worried about what we’d think?” Da.

“Aye. I didna want to… disappoint ye.”

“Oh, Faith…” Mam repeated.

“Ye would never disappoint us, Faith. We love ye. Always.”

“I ken that, Da. I just…”

“Come here.”

I did. Standing before Da, I looked into his eyes. Shining with tears. He grabbed my hand, and pulled me into his lap. He was so much bigger than me.

“This doesna change a thing.”

“Faith.” Mam said. “I’m glad you told us. How long have you known.”

“Ummm… five years?”

“Jesus Christ, Faith. Ye kept this secret for that long?”

“Aye.”

“Oh, Faith…” Mam said for the third time. “We love you so much. You could have told us. Maybe you weren’t ready, but you could have.”

“I ken that now.” I felt tears on my cheeks. Jesus, when did I start crying?

“Breath. Be true to yourself. We’ll always support you. And we’ll always love you. No matter what.”

“Thanks Mam. Da.”

“I’m thinking…” Bree interrupted. “We need a group hug.”

And that's when Bree grabbed Alex by the middle, and plopped him onto Mam’s lap.

Arms flew around me, engulfing me in the warmth of family.

“I love ye, big sis.”

“Me too.” Alex said, kissing me on the cheek. “No matter what.”

And there I was, same old Faith.

[bee-kathony]

The Telegram | Casualties of War

Thank you again @jules-fraser for making this wonderful moodboard! 

Response to the @thelallybrochlibrary ‘Queerlander’ prompt #13: Claire has a relationship with a female nurse during the War. 

Chapter 1: Bedside Manners | Chapter 2: The Telegram 

“Emily sighed, licking her lips, “A small comfort in this chaos… Claire… make me forget.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes and that was enough to make me do what I did next.“

Chapter 2: The Telegram

It had been 8 months since I’d last seen Frank. We managed to meet each other in a little village in France, close to where I had been posted. Letters were almost non-existent between us. Often times I had no idea where he was and he wasn’t exactly allowed to tell me his location. It was rather odd to be married in the war, especially since I felt like we only had just begun our lives together. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Several months had passed since Emily and I had kissed, we both had silently agreed to not speak about it. A one time thing.

Since then we had both been promoted as Senior Nurses, both in charge of supervising the junior nurses and orderlies. I felt I had a real purpose in this bloody war. If I could help ease the pain of anyone, then I was helping in the only way I knew how.

I stood at the sink, running warm water over my hands to try and get the blood stains off. I had just helped a doctor with another leg amputation. It seemed like those were happening more often these days, amputations.

I knew I could never understand what it felt like to be missing a limb and still feel its presence but lately I had been feeling like a part of me had been amputated… taken from me, leaving me broken and in pieces.

Perhaps it was seeing Frank in every young male that had his eyes or hair colour that came rushing through the hospital doors. Or maybe it was simply the strain of the day in and day out loss that never let up.

When would this God forsaken war end? Would it ever end?

I turned off the faucet, drying my hands on the available towel hanging beside the sink and ran my hand across my forehead, pushing the stray curls out of my face. I returned to the open room that belonged to all the nurses, checking to see if everything was in order. Since I had become a Senior nurse, I now only had to share a room with one other person, Emily.

I found Emily in our room, on her bed, crying.

“Em?” Walking over to sit beside her on the bed, I noticed a tear stained telegram in her hands.

She continued crying, her eyes shut tight against the rest of the world. I reached for the telegram and it slid easily out of her hands.

“MS. EMILY HAMPTON

THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEPEST REGRET THAT YOUR fiancé MAJOR HENRY JONES WAS KILLED IN ACTION ON TWENTY THIRD MAY IN FRANCE

HARRIS, THE ADJUTANT GENERAL. 5 45 PM”

The telegram was short, no more information than was necessary to convey the point the Emily’s fiancé had died.

“Oh Em,” I set the telegram aside on her nightstand and put my hand gently on her back, with one touch, she crumpled her weight against me, sobbing into my chest. Wrapping my other arm around, I held her until the shaking stopped. I held her until the sobs turned into silent tears, wetting my blouse. I held her until she was ready to speak.

“I never even got to say goodbye.” Was the first thing she said. “What if he was in pain… in the end?”

I squeezed my arms tighter around her, “He wasn’t.”

“But how do you know?,” She sniffed, wiping her hand against her nose.

“I just do. I also know that he loved you very much. The time you had with Henry… cherish that Em.” I put one hand under her chin, bringing her to look at me. “And never forget him, what he did for our Country. How brave he was…” I saw a spark of light in her eyes, distant but it was there.

“How brave you are…” I kissed the tip of her nose and she slid her arms around my waist, hanging on for dear life.

“I fear that I will wake in the morning and forget. Forget that he’s… d-dead.” Tears welled in my own eyes then, “And then when I remember, my heart will break all over again. Oh Claire!   I can’t go on, I just can’t!” Emily pressed her head into my chest once again, her emotions of grief causing a wall to break in me and I held her as tears spilled down my own cheeks. For all the men who we had lost and still had yet to lose.

“It’s alright,” I whispered, to Emily as much as to myself. “It’s alright.”

We ended up laying down on her bed, our arms tangled around each others bodies. The pain of the last few hours causing both of us to be emotionally drained.

“Claire?” Emily whispered, her face just inches away from mine.

“Hmmm?” I responded, too tired for real words.

“I know it’s too soon… and it’s probably very insensitive of me but-“ I opened my eyes to find her green orbs staring straight at me, “but I feel that I very much want to kiss you.”

Emily sighed, licking her lips, “A small comfort in this chaos… Claire… make me forget.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes and that was enough to make me do what I did next.

I brought my hand to cup her cheek, red and blotchy from all the crying and closed the space between us, pressing my lips to hers.

The kiss was salty and warm as tears dripped down her face to where our mouths were joined. All parts of our bodies were touching on Emily’s twin sized mattress, our legs intertwined, our arms caressing one another’s backs.

I felt Emily push my body against hers, our breasts pressed together. She wanted more than a kiss, something that could distract her from the reality that her world had just come crumbling down.

“Claire,” she breathed, pulling apart from my mouth long enough to smile. I returned her smile and slid my hands to her waist where her blouse was tucked into her skirt. With minimal effort, I managed to untuck her shirt and then moved my hands between us and slowly undid each button.

Emily looked down at my slightly trembling hands and let out a breathy laugh. “It’s quite odd to have another woman undress you.” I undid the last button and then Emily’s fingers found my own shirt.

“Yes.” I agreed as she slid the fabric back from my shoulders. “But it also feels very good.”

I removed her shirt, letting it fall to the ground below. “Touch me,” Emily whispered, a plea, a need. My hands moved back in between us and I cupped both her breasts, feeling the hard bud of her nipples poking through her bra.

“Mmmm,” she closed her eyes and I wondered then if it was not my hands she was imagining but Henry’s.

I continued to touch and stroke her breasts over her bra but dared to take it further as I reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting her surprisingly natural full breasts fall out. Her breasts were warm, having been tucked away all day, stuffed into the too tight bra she wore.

“Emily,” I sighed as my fingers caressed her nipples, red as cherries. Her mouth found mine, this time her tongue darting out to touch mine. “Make me forget Claire,” she moaned.

Still massaging her breast, I moved my hand down her stomach making her shiver. My hand moved down her thighs and stilled on her knee, just at the hem of her skirt. Emily moaned when my hand stopped.

“Are you sure Em?” I asked.

“Yes Claire, please,” she begged me, her lips gliding over mine.

I pinched her nipples, eliciting small cries from her as I then slid my hand up her skirt, heat radiating off her body. Her skin was soft and smooth. I let my fingers slide up and down her thigh slowly before moving it between her legs. Emily half rolled on her back and spread her legs for me.

I bent my head and kissed her neck, placing kisses along her collarbones and chest as my fingers found the spot.

“Oh Christ,” Emily moaned, one hand gripping my hair, holding me against her chest.

I began to suck on her left nipple as I moved my fingers against her wet mound. I slid my fingers up and down her slit, seeing how ready she was.

I nibbled on her breasts for awhile before finally moving my finger inside her and she cried out.

Taking that as a good sign, I slid another finger inside and placed my thumb on her clit. It was easy to pleasure her, as we had the same anatomy. Many times after I had sex with Frank and I couldn’t orgasm, I would wait until he was fast asleep and do what he could not to myself, bringing myself pleasure from my own hand.

Emily pulled on my hair, bringing my head up to hers and crushed her lips against mine. “Oh God, oh God Claire, I’m gonna cum.”

I smiled against her lips and quickened my fingers inside her, feeling her walls clench around my hand. Her legs were shaking and she was bucking her hips. “Forget Emily, it’s alright, just forget and focus on me.” I said and watched as she came undone. Her body shook and spasmed, her breasts moving in time with her fast breaths.

I couldn’t help myself as I leaned down once more and took her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue on that hard bud. I kept my fingers moving slowly in and out of her until I felt her body relax.

“Would you like a taste Em?” I asked, sliding my fingers out of her body and bringing them up in front of her face.

“What? Taste myself?” She gasped slightly but nodded. I placed my fingers against her mouth and she opened for me, her tongue sliding up and down my fingers. She licked her juices off my hand clean and I removed my hand and bent to kiss her.

I felt Emily’s hand sliding down my thigh but stopped her from going further. “No. It’s okay. This was about you Em.”

“But I want to return the favour.” She said, her hand trying to slide up my skirt.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret…. Not so soon anyway.” I kissed her forehead and she let her hand relax back on my hip.

“I suppose you’re right. You always are Claire Randall. But I wouldn’t regret it. Not with you.” She kissed me then, softly. “Will you let me? If not now, then soon?”

I decided then and there that I would let Emily Hampton do whatever she wanted to do to my body. In this war there was often no chance of receiving comfort like this and she was willing to give it to me.

“Yes. Soon.” I kissed her back, pressing her body closer to mine and then lay my head back against the pillow, holding this sweet girl in my arms.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Laird of the Dance: Part One

@thelallybrochlibrary put out a Queerlander Prompt Exchange last month and I’ve claimed the following prompt: Jamie’s attempt at seduction goes awry when Claire turns out to be either asexual or demisexual.

But because, as always, I can never seem to do an actual one shot, this prompt has turned into a short series and I’m pleased as punch to post the first installment. This lovely AU is set in a stereotypical midwestern town in the grand old U S of A at the present time. I’m calling it Leoch for the sake of adorable ease. Claire and Jamie are seventeen years old and in eleventh grade/juniors, Jenny and Ian are eighteen and are in twelfth/seniors. The following shenanigans unfold:

Leoch, Nebraska; Present. Claire.

Tandoori chicken.

I’d packed the leftover tandoori chicken Mum had made for dinner last night as my lunch and it was the single-most thing that carried me through fourth and fifth periods. It was my second year here at Leoch High after we’d moved from London, but I was still trying to get the hang of the American school system. Hot lunch wasn’t really a good option for me with my peanut allergy, so I was thankful for the microwave they’d placed near the salad bar for students such as myself.

Winding my way through the myriad of tables and fellow students, I caught sight of a new face at my usual place. I’d passed him in the hallways before, of course, and knew who he was, but I’d never really had much more than a basic conversation with Jamie Fraser. He was Jenny’s younger brother and in my year, yet he tended to eat with his fellow teammates… of whatever sport it was that he played.

I sat down next to Jenny, who grinned at me like she’d swallowed the proverbial canary, and rolled my eyes as I cracked open the steaming container of leftover bliss.

“Spit it out, Jen.”

My best friend popped a tater tot into her mouth and feigned innocence, shrugging her shoulders as her eyes widened.

“She kens something, but willna tell me,” Geillis chimed in. “Not so much as a hint.”

“Do you know?” I rose a brow and looked in Jamie’s direction.

The tips of his ears grew pink as he muttered, “She’s seen the official prom court roster.”

I groaned. That must mean I’d made it onto the court. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to prom, let alone be singled out and given a ridiculous title. I knew I’d been nominated, I’d voted for someone else when the ballots were handed out yesterday, but was confident that I was a small enough fish to slip through unnoticed.

Jenny was on student council — the extracurricular group in charge of such functions — and as the senior class president, she had special privileges… and tallying the votes must have been one of them.

“Can we please talk about something else besides royalty?” I pleaded.

“Sure,” Jenny chirped, a little too energetically. “Have you figured out who you’re going to prom with?”

Jenny was dating Ian, another senior, and had this item checked off her list for months. I narrowed my eyes at her, wary of what was brewing behind that eager smile.

“Not really.”

“I, ah, was wondering…” Jamie’s blush crept down his neck as he stammered and set down his fork, “if you’d maybe… if you’d want to go with me.”

[maxissi]

A @thelallybrochlibrary Queerlander fic.

Prompt #39: Hogwarts!AU: Jamie arrives as the new grounds keeper at Hogwarts soon to find out Professor John Greys preferences for chocolate frogs and sneaking around in the forbidden forest…

[...] Sconces shed a dim light, and on the right, a row of windows faced the Great Lake to the south of the castle. A serene half-moon shone over the still water, billowing, silver clouds, and the forests and mountains in the distance.

“It’s beautiful.”

Not quite as beautiful as the moonlight on John’s face, though. [...]

Author’s notes:

As usual, I’m late, and I’m sorry! Many thanks to @andhopethatsoon for the prompt, her fabulous suggestions and all the help researching the world of Harry Potter. Side note: We’re both from Germany and talking in German felt horribly wrong. I altered the prompt a little bit, but I hope you all enjoy anyway! Also this is the most innocent thing I’ve ever written. Yet.

Chapter 1: First Day at School

[notameeksassenach]

Questions

This is one of my submissions for the @thelallybrochlibrary Queerlander Prompt Exchange. 

The inspiration for this fic hits a bit close to home. Needing a therapeutic release prompted this story to be written over the course of two days. 

Major thanks and love to @katnoenau for being there to listen to my sob story and to clean up my mess as I wrote this story at lightening speed. 

It wasn’t often that she found herself alone with just the company of herself. Since the day they met, Jamie and Claire were inseparable. Where you found one, you were sure to find the other. They were inexplicably drawn together, and that pull only seemed to increase when Claire packed up what few belongings she had, and moved from her small apartment in London to the vast green expanse of the Scottish Highlands to be with him.

Growing up on the move, Claire never had more than a handful of friends. The majority of them had come into her life for just a season, and left almost as quickly. So while she had no friends of her own in Scotland, she had Jamie, and he was all she truly needed.

She loved Jamie with all her heart, and knew that her soul had found its other half nestled within him. Content with the life that she had chosen with him, Claire found her place among his family, his faith, his life. Their life. Assimilating herself into her new normal, she had convinced herself that she was leading a charmed life.

You’ve a husband who adores you, a beautiful home, a family like you’ve always wanted. Why do you still feel like something is out of place?

Jamie was gone, away on business. Claire was unable to get the time off to join him, her own workload growing every day. If she was honest, she missed his presence. He wouldn’t be gone long, but their home felt empty. After a particularly stressful day at work, she wasn’t looking forward to going home, where she knew he would not be.

Which is why she found herself sitting alone, nestled on the very last barstool, nursing a dram of whisky. Being here made her feel less lonely. From her vantage point, she was able to take in the entire bar, giving her the perfect spot to people watch.

One particular patron caught her eye. She was sitting at the other end of the same bar. Claire noticed that she was also alone, and had been slowly sipping on her own glass filled with red wine. Unsure of what it was about the stranger that drew her attention, Claire continued to glance her way, hoping that she wouldn’t be caught unawares.

Never having been one to keep her emotions from showing, Claire was often accused of having a glass face. Jamie could read her almost without hesitation, and would know the moment that something was on her mind. She was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to conceal her interest, as she continued to sneak glances of the woman at the other end of the bar. She was writing a story in her head. Who this mystery person was, what her life was like. What her favorite color was, favorite book, favorite tv show. Claire found that she wanted to know it all. It was a unsettling feeling. She had never wanted to know so much about another human being, save Jamie.

Taking a sip of her whisky as an excuse to look in her direction yet again, Claire was startled to realize that the woman was now staring back at her.

You need to cover your tracks better, Beauchamp.

Dropping her gaze, Claire began to busy herself with her cuticles. She was afraid to look up again, she didn’t want to be thought of as rude. She blamed it on her curious nature, one that was nourished by her unusual upbringing. Resigning herself to finishing her drink, Claire had made the decision to head home. In her mind, being alone in the comfort of her own home would be far better than sitting here wallowing in her own twisted thoughts.

As she set her empty glass back on the bar, she was greeted by the bartender replacing the glass with a full one.

“Oh. No thank you. I didn’t order another drink.”

“No, but she did,” he responded, pointing down the bar to the mystery woman.

Doing her best to stifle the blush she was sure she was forming on her cheeks, she grabbed the glass and offered the woman a salute of thank you before taking sip.

Catching Claire’s acceptance of the drink, the woman abandoned her seat, and made her way to the empty stool next to Claire.

“Thank you for the whisky.”

“My pleasure,” she responded, extending her hand to Claire. “I’m Meghan.”

“Claire,” she said accepting the offered hand. Meghan’s hands were smooth, the complete opposite of the rough sturdy hands she was used to holding.

“So, Claire. What’s a woman like you, doing alone in a place like this?”

“Oh, umm. A rather long day at work. Needed a dram. What about you?”

“Was supposed to be meeting someone here. Clearly I’ve been stood up.”

“That’s terrible. Men can be such a bother sometimes can’t they?”

Claire noticed that Meghan’s cheeks seemed to flush a bit. She wasn’t sure if it was what she had said, or just the lingering effects of her wine.

“I wasn’t waiting for a man. They aren’t entirely my type, you see.”

“Oh, my apologies. I guess us woman can be just as much of a bother,” Claire was hoping that she wasn’t putting her foot in her mouth. She didn’t want this conversation to end before it even had a chance to begin. “From what I can tell, her loss is my incredible gain.”

Conversation flowed easily between the two of them. They skipped from one topic to another nothing seemed to be out of bounds. The two women were simply trying to get to know one each other better.

Claire couldn’t remember the last time she felt such a connection to another woman. Not having very many close girlfriends, this was mostly new territory for her. But she felt at ease, like she could tell Meghan anything and everything without the fear of being judged.

Over the course of the evening, Claire began to notice certain things about Meghan. Like the way her hair fell on her shoulders and framed her face perfectly. That Meghan, even when she was waiting for a date, didn’t coat her face in makeup. She noticed that her eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel that favored green when the light hit them.

Those are some of the same types of things you noticed about Jamie the first night you met him.

Without noticing, the two had moved closer to one another, their barstools touching. Meghan would laugh at one of Claire's lame attempts at a joke, lightly touching her arm in response. Knees and ankles would graze each other as they crossed and uncrossed their legs. Each minuscule touch, sent a shock of heat through Claire.

It was no surprise that neither of them were paying much attention to the time, as wrapped up in one another as they were. Before long the bartender was announcing last call.

“I had better be on my way. It was a pleasure to meet you, Meghan.” Claire said gathering her jacket and purse.

“The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for turning my night around.”

Without hesitation, Meghan leaned in to give Claire a goodbye hug. It took a measure of self control for Claire not to press her nose into Meghan’s hair, to pull her closer and hold her in her arms.

Beauchamp, what is your problem? You are going to freak this poor woman out! Get yourself together!

After saying their goodbyes, Claire made her way home. She clutched her arms tight around herself as she walked, as if she was trying to reclaim the feeling she got from hugging Meghan. What was it about her that was making Claire feel this way. She had never experienced feelings like this for anyone other than Jamie. Was it just that she was missing him so much, that she was just transferring feelings to the first person who paid her any attention? Or was there something more going on? Was what she was feeling the signs that there was more to herself than she had thought?

Even as she readied herself for bed, she couldn’t get her mind off Meghan. More importantly, she couldn’t get her mind off the the way she felt around Meghan. The more she thought about it, it started to become clear to her that what she was feeling was attraction. The only thing she had to compare it to was the feeling she had when she was with her husband.

But how can I have the same feelings for a woman that I have for my husband? Does this make me bisexual?

With thoughts and emotions running through her head, she was thankful for once that Jaime was not around. He would have been worried sick about her. He would have known right away that something was wrong. What would she tell him? That she was having feelings that she couldn’t explain about another woman? She cringed at the thought of his reaction. While he was a loving and caring man, Jamie was religious and so was his family. What would they think of her if this became public knowledge. She was already the Sassenach in the family. An outsider that never quite fit in. The English woman who successfully infiltrated the Scots.

Something similar to dread began to settle in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what would happen were Jamie to find out. No. Until she could explain these feelings to herself, it was best for everyone involved that she keep a tight lip.

Limbs intertwined, ivory skin mingled with a layer of sweat. Soft touches from delicate hands, tracing the lines of her body from jawline to hip bone.

I reach a hand out to cup her cheek, to bring her closer to me for a kiss. Her full lips soft as I trace them with my tongue, hoping to gain access. I feel her mouth part and her tongue begins a slow dance with my own. Reaching a hand around her waist, I pull her closer.  The feel of her body against mine, makes my senses run wild. It feels as if every part of us is touching. I can feel the peak of her nipples against my own breasts, wanting nothing more than to give them the attention they are seeking. With a featherlight touch, I glide my hand from her cheek down her neck and finally cup her breast, enjoying the fullness of it. Bending my head down, I take her nipple into my mouth, trying to convey to her just how much I adore her. I hear a moan escape her as I move my lips to her other breast.

She grabs a handful of my curls, pushing me further down, showing me where she wants my attention to continue. I kiss and bite my path to her navel, taking the time to appreciate every inch of her skin. She bucks her hips in response as I get closer to her mound. I can smell her need, see that she is ready and waiting for me.

I lazily trace a finger along the outside of her wetness. My fingers slip along her skin with ease. I hear her hiss as my thumb comes into contact with her most sensitive spot. Her eyes meet mine, and with a nod of approval, I enter her in one swift motion. Slowly I pump my hand back and forth, taking my finger all the way out before allowing it access again. She is writhing beneath me and a smile forms on my face knowing that I am the cause of her excitement.

Increasing my speed, I add another digit hoping to encourage her climax to unfold. It doesn’t take long before I feel her walls clenching around me.

“Claire,” she moans as the waves of pleasure crash around her.

Giving her a moment to recover from her high, I bring my fingers, thoroughly coated by her juices, to my mouth. She tastes better than I could have ever imagined.

I had tasted myself on Jamie many times, but this was different. Knowing that I was the one to bring about this bounty, feeling proud in my abilities to pleasure another woman.

Once she catches her breath, she makes quick work of taking over the domineering role. Pushing me back against the pillows, it’s her turn to worship me.

I gasp as she runs her thumb across my nipple. They are hard and aching to be touched. The more attention she pays to my breasts, the wetter I become. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, she abandons them, making her way to other areas.

She carefully spreads my legs apart, taking the time to enjoy the view in front of her. She catches my eye, licking her lips in anticipation. Before I can ask her for more, her mouth is on me, kissing my most intimate places. Her soft and warm tongue taking its time, working its way around my folds. My wish for more was answered when she darted her tongue into my warmth. I buck my hips to meet her, craving her touch. She inserts a finger as her teeth find my clit and I nearly leap off the bed in pleasure.

She awoke with a start, breath caught in her throat. Her body was tingling in places as she recalled the touch of Meghan’s lips. As she willed her breathe to slow, she slowly snaked her hand between her legs. Warm and wet to the touch as she pushed aside the fabric of her panties, allowing her fingers to explore. Closing her eyes as she caressed herself, conjuring a vision of Meghan, pretending her fingers belong to the other woman.

It didn’t take long her for to find a rhythm that worked for her. She could feel her climax growing, as she found her sweet spot. Using her free hand to knead her breast, she squeezed and rolled her nipple between her fingers. Slipping a finger into her heat, she gasped at the feeling. Jamie was an excellent lover, and she was never left unsatisfied, but this was different. With images of Meghan floating behind closed eyes, Claire let out a moan as she reached her peak. Never one to struggle to achieve an orgasm, Claire couldn’t help but wonder if thinking of Meghan had been the thing to make all the difference.

You’ve felt attracted to a woman, dreamt of having sex with a woman, and now masturbated while thinking of one. Beauchamp, there might be more to this than meets the eye.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Queerlander.

Heyo. I’ve been out of town for a family reunion (which has produced an adorable Idyllwild fic that will be posted soonish) and didn’t meet the Queerlander Prompt Exchange deadline of posting before the end of June, but DINNA FASH for it is queued to post THURSDAY (July 5th) at 7AM CST.

The Prompt: Jamie’s attempt at seduction goes awry when Claire turns out to be either asexual or demisexual.

This delightful AU has the cast of characters you know and love trying to navigate the chaos that is the American public school system as hormonal teenagers. It’s gonna be great.

[notameeksassenach]

Favorite fic that you have written ?

I have to say that by far my favorite is Questions, which I wrote for the Queerlander Prompt Exchange. 

I wrote it faster than any other fic I have written and there was so much emotion behind it for me. It was very therapeutic to write it.