Ok, this fic was inspired by a conversation by some of my favourite ladies and the “Scottish barbarian scene in S0209 (show version not book version).
I might come back to this as I don’t know that the execution is quite what I wanted.
Jamie and Claire decide to play Red Jamie and the English Lady. Smutty ficlet
I wrote this for all my lovely ladies (who I should tag but won’t in case I miss someone and hate myself) but especially @jillmow8 because I love her.
Jamie entered the boarded up cottage that was their billet and was surprised to find Claire still fully dressed, standing by what was once the window. Hearing him come in, she turned and looked at him. Something about the way she looked at him stopped him short. She wasn’t quite meeting his eyes and was clutching her hands to her bosom with unaccustomed meekness.
“Did you let the boy go?” she asked, raising her eyes only slightly. “Did you honour your part of our agreement.”
The surprise must have showed on Jamie’s face and she went on.
“We made a deal, you would let the boy go and in return, I… I” She trailed off, coyly, but by this point Jamie had picked up the drift of what was going on.
“Aye,” He replied, “Aye, I honoured our bargain and left the boy as I said I would. And now you, you must submit yourself to me.” He took a step towards her and with his hand on the small of her back pulled her closer to him. She could feel the heat of him through her gown and her pupils widened perceptibly. Jamie ran his hand down her body, cupping the roundness of her buttocks.
“So this is what a fine English lady feels like is it then?” He murmured hot against the side of her face. “Weel, I ken I’m going to enjoy this” He turned his head and ran his tongue slowly down the side of her throat. Claire shivered. “So you’ll submit to me, as per our agreement then, just so, but so you know *my lady*” He emphasised those final words with a hint of mocking. “Red Jamie may be a Scottish Barbarian and all the other things ye called me out there, but I dinna lie with women who dinna want me. And believe me Sassenach. By the time I’ve done with ye, ye’ll not be honouring an agreement, ye’ll be begging me to take ye” His breath was hot against her face and she squirmed against him, half pretending to struggle, half seeking friction against him.
“Oh is that right , Red Jamie? Came her response “You think you can make me beg do you, you..” her words were cut off by his mouth on hers. His lips were soft but insistent and she could not help but reach her hands up into the hair at the nape of his neck. She pulled it sharply and he broke away. He fixed her with a look so intense her knees gave a little and had he not still held her flush to him she might well have fallen. He reached up and the sound of tearing cloth sounded through the room that was silent but for the sound of their laboured breathing. Her bodice was in tatters, the laces snapped along the top three rows. He pulled at her stomacher throwing it to the ground behind him. He could see the outline of her breasts through the filmy material of her shift, her nipples hard. Raising his hand he ran his thumb over one, causing Claire’s head to fall back against the wall as she gasped. He cupped the other, feeling the weight of it in his palm. Claire wriggled slightly pushing her hips towards him. He bent his head and kissed the nipple through the material of her shift. He bit it gently enjoying the little gasp she made. He moved to the other breast and her hand came up to cradle his head pulling him closer. His hands moved slowly down the line of her body until the reached her skirts and gently began drawing them up her legs. The cool air hit her bare leg as he raised the skirt above the knee and goose bumps rippled across them. He could feel the soft hairs of her inner thighs as his hand snaked upwards. He broked away from her breast and kissed her on the mouth again, grinding his hips against hers and his fingers danced upwards, encountering the soft wetness between her legs. He stroked her gently and she let out a little noise, he did it again and she made a slightly louder one. He slid a finger into her and that noise almost sent him over the edge there and then. She was clinging to him now, rocking herself back and forth against his hand and making a little mewling sound that he felt right between his legs.
“Does the lady like that then?” he spoke directly into her ear. He could smell the scent of campfire smoke in her hair.
“Jamie, Jamie, please” she gasped in reply.
“Oh Jamie. Is it now? What happened to Scottish Barbarian? We’re on first names terms now are we?”
“You fucking bastard” she struggled a little now.
“Aye, that’s more like it, my lady” He laughed into her ear but his fingers continued to move inside her and her breath was coming quicker and quicker as she began to buck against him.
“Jamie,” she moaned again. “Jamie, please”
This time he acquiesced. Holding her round the waist he lifted her onto the stack of pallets that had been previously serving as a table, and pushed her legs apart with his knee. She grabbed him and kissed him with a ferocity that momentarily startled him, pulling at the material of his kilt in an effort to get it out of the way. Kissing her back, he aided her by shifting his kilt and pulling her closer. She writhed against him and he moaned at the feeling of her against him.
“Take me, Red Jamie,” he could hear the smile as she spoke, but also her need. “Take me now you wicked, depraved Scottish barbarian”
Needing no further prompting he slid into her, both of them gasping at the sensation. Clinging together the moved, slowly at first but then faster and faster, their cries echoing from the stone walls as they toppled over the edge together.
They remained like that for a while. Both sheened in sweat, feeling each others hearts slowly returning to normal.
“I never knew you had a thing for wild Scottish outlaws, Sassenach” Jamie said laughingly.
Claire raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. “Well, I did marry you, didn’t I?”
Friend: “Iwanna be a cleric but I also kinda want to be a Tiefling.”
Me: “This is D&D you can do whatever you want.”
So now we have a cleric in a big shroud joining our campaign who is secretly a Tiefling.
There’s also a Hobgoblin warlock claiming to be a Halfling and literally will die if he’s exposed because our rock lady barbarian has a thing against goblins of all types.
So basically our party is like some people secretly being other types of people.
Hello Jason. Look at your wife. Now back to me. Now back at your wife. Now back to me. Sadly, she isn't me. But if she wears this dress I made, her skin could burn off. Look down. Back up. Where are you? You're at your wedding. With the woman your wife could kill like. Look at your hand. Back at me. I have it. It's the charred remains of your wife's corpse. Look again. The corpses are now our children's! Anything is possible when your wife kills like a barbarian and not a lady. I'm on the sun chariot.
This is my D&D character, Hadria! She’s a badass bearded lady-dwarf barbarian and she loves kicking undead butt! She has an iron ring on the end of her beard that she can swing to hit people with, and it stuns when I roll a 4! Unfortunately, I am the queen of rolling ones…
A giant doodle dump. I haven’t had time for much drawing besides doodles, which I usually toss onto Twitter instead of here. But I’ve been neglecting my poor Tumblr, so here’s a bunch of those.
In order: Freaks and Geeks post-its, barbarian lady inking practice, a pretty model, random doodles, a nice face I saw, all my OCs on one doodle page, some Sia video sketches and my big nose, cat terminology, and Francois Hardy (kind of).
Morning dawned cold and
clear. Elena awoke to a man she didn’t recognize looming over her, shaking her
shoulder. The events of last night and the day before came crashing over her as
the world came into focus around her. Startled, she scrambled back, clutching
the blankets over her chest.
“Who are you? Where’s
Cullen?” She demanded.
The man grinned. He was
handsome with swarthy skin and rich brown hair. Unlike most of the other men in
the camp, he wore a leather cuirass under his furs, protecting his chest and stomach from attack.