Anonymous asked: Ok I don’t care what century but I want Claire to seduce Jamie ,I want smut and I want it now !
(I have a feeling I know who this anon is… If so, you’ve got a naughty mind. ;D)
This will be a slight canon divergence.
He was busy reading over the tenant’s ledger. It was a lean year, but if they couldn’t make ends meet…
“Could you come help me with something?”
“Not yet, Sassenach. I need to finish wi’ these or Jenny will tan my hide.”
The stairs creaked as Claire left whatever room she’d been in. A moment later, a loud crash had him stuffing the quill into the ink pot and started running. She wasn’t in the sitting room, nor the kitchen. The Laird’s room, then?
Taking the stairs three at a time, he burst in through the door to see Claire standing in shift, corset, and skirts, hands on her hips.
“I wondered what it would take to get you up here before midnight.”
“What the hell are you about, woman?” he asked a trifle testily.
“You have been too busy working on that damned ledger. You haven’t touched me in over a week.”
“I’ve got work that needs doing, Claire. I’ll no’ come up until it’s done.”
She glared hard at him. If looks could kill, he’d be bleeding to death beside the hearth.
“So you’ve said for a week. Jenny and Ian don’t stay up all hours of the night.”
“Jenny and Ian are’na the laird of Lallybroch!”
“And Ian isn’t neglecting his wife!”
Jamie looked around the room, trying to see what had made the crashing sound he’d heard. A wooden bowl was on the floor, accounting for the noise.
“I am not neglecting you, Claire,” he said through clenched teeth. “If I canna get these ledgers to balance, we willna have anything to eat through the winter. I’m trying to keep my family and my tenants safe and fed. Do ye no’ see that?”
She huffed a sigh and folded her arms over her ample bosom.
“Fine. Go play with your books. Might as well sleep there. I’m locking the door.”
“Sassenach, don’t do that.”
“You’d rather be down there than with me.”
“Good night, James Fraser.”
He rolled his eyes and left the room. Sure enough, he heard the bolt slam shut. So he stomped down the stairs back to he laird’s study.
He’d had to get a new candle, as the other one had burned out. No matter what way he looked at it, the rents they’d collected just weren’t enough. The door to the study opened slowly, creaking on its hinges.
“I’m sorry about the yelling, Jenny,” he said without looking up.
That made him take his eyes from the book. Jenny wasn’t a quiet woman. If she was displeased about something, she’d-
Blessed Mary, mother of Jesus.
Her hair was completely down and wild about her shoulders. She still wore her shift, skirts, and corset. And his mother’s pearls.
“I don’t like fighting with you,” she said softly. “I wanted to come apologize.”
“I ken I havena been wi’ ye as often as I should. I am sorry for that, Sassenach.”
“I know. I brought a book with me. I thought I’d at least keep you company.”
“That’s verra kind of ye, Sassenach.”
Settling back into his seat, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. At first, he was sure that she wasn’t up to anything.
Until she began toying with the lace of her corset, one foot swinging off the edge of her chair.
“It’s awfully warm in here, isn’t it?”
He looked up at her without moving, giving her one of his best Fraser glares.
“No. It isna warm.”
“Oh. Well… I’m awfully warm. You don’t mind if I take my corset off, do you?”
Nose flaring, he bent back to the ledger, still scribbling notations on his scrap piece of parchment.
“Do what ye will, lass.”
“Thank you, master.”
Frowning, he concentrated on his work once more.
Some time later, she stood up again. He’d read the same line ad least a dozen times in an effort to not look up and stare her breasts through her shift.
“Are you sure you’re not too warm?”
“You wouldn’t mind if I untied my skirts, would you?”
“Do whatever ye wish, lass.”
This time he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was watching her.
“Ye ken it’s a sin to seduce a man to yer bed, Sassenach?”
She smiled, not at all helping.
“Oh it’s only a sin if I’m trying to seduce a married man.”
“I am marriet.”
“Yes. To me. We’re legally married, before a real priest even. So it isn’t a sin. Why, are you having impure thoughts, Mr. Fraser?”
Looking her directly in the eye, he said firmly “No.”
She smiled and put her book down on the table and bent at the waist to pick up her discarded skirts. That pulled the fabric of her shift tight against her arse, which did NOT help his concentration.
After folding up her discarded clothing, she sat back down in her chair and continued with her book.
“Damn it!” he howled, slamming a fist down on the desk. “It doesna work!”
“Jamie, perhaps you should take a break. I’m serious. This isn’t good for you.”
“No’ until this is done.”
“Alright. I’ll stay here. I’ll just take off my stockings.”
He looked up sharply, having only just realized she still had them on. With a sensual smile on her face, she hiked the hem of her shift up and very slowly pushed one stocking down.
He gulped when she moved to the other stocking, spreading her legs just enough to give him a peek at her womanhood.
“What was that?”
He looked hastily down at the ledger, ignoring the growing hardness between his own legs.
It wasn’t working. Concentration wasn’t coming to him anymore. Not with her sitting on that chair, shift about her waist. God, she was right. He’d been neglecting her.
Before he understood what was happening, he was on his feet. She looked up at him, quirking one eyebrow in question. Grabbing at his boots, he pulled them off as quickly as he could, his stockings joining them.
“Are you wearing a tent, love, or are you just happy to see me?”
He looked down and snorted.
“Ye ken just fine what that is.”
“Oh yes. I do. But what do you plan to do with it?”
He had to force his hands to calm down as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. If he was too hasty, he’d break a button off and she’d have his head for it. Finally, he threw it on the floor where it landed on top of hers. His shirt followed soon after.
“My plan, Sassenach? I plan t’ take ye on the floor here, leave my mark on ye, until ye fall asleep. Perhaps then I’ll get my damned work done.”
Then he wrenched at his belt and felt it give. He kissed her, holding her face hard against his own. Taking the ties of her shift in his fingers, he pulled and the garment whispered to the ground. He grabbed her by the waist roughly and picked her up. Immediately her legs locked around him, her kisses nearly as urgent as his.
He laid her down with little gentleness, frustrated as he was. Hands groped at the folds of his kilt, muttering rude remarks in Gaelic as he did. Finally, he felt the fabric give and the kilt fell alway. He pushed her legs apart with one knee before nestling himself there. The heat of her arousal was strong, almost burning him.
“Look at me, Sassenach.”
Her eyes opened slowly.
Keeping her gaze locked with his own, he rammed his hips down on hers, sheathing himself fully in one stroke. Her back arched and she cried out, but he didn’t stop. Too many things were bothering him.
His inability to provide for his family and his tenants.
Letting his father down.
Neglecting his wife.
All of it balled up inside him like muck in a stable.
Claire had given him a release for it. They’d had more than one violent night in bed together, so it was nothing new. But he knew that she didn’t fear him or his potential for brutality. This was a safe way to release it. They’d both be sore and a little bruised come daybreak, but she wouldn’t mind. She never did.
In fact, she was giving it just as good as he was. He could feel her fingers digging into his back, drawing blood.
Then he howled, feeling his body spasm with his release. Her legs shook and slid off him while her face smiled.
“Ah,” she breathed a moment later. “Much better. I was beginning to think you didn’t want to share my bed any longer.”
“God no, Sassenach. It’s only… I canna find a way to make it work. I canna provide for everyone.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes content.
“Get some rest, Jamie. Just think it over. Maybe take a look at the ledger again in the morning?”
“Aye. Yer right.”
Kissing her forehead, he grabbed a pillow from the chair and his kilt, throwing it over them both. She was almost asleep already, but she snuggled into his arms as he lay beside her.
Sometime in the middle of the night, he woke. Not started or alarmed by anything. But he’d had an idea about the rents and the ledger. He knew how to fix it.
Lighting the candle once more, he scribbled down some notes again and smiled. It worked. Everyone would be safe and well fed.
After he blew the candle out, he lay down beside her once more.
“Ye were right, Sassenach,” he whispered. “As always.
I like powerful men with equally powerful women, who save each other’s asses because that’s their thing and God help anyone who harms their SO. I like the badass motherfucker with the head bitch in charge, taking over their domain like nobody’s business. I love the story of the hero who saves the world and the heroine who saves him. I love the couples who will burn down the world just to protect each other. That is my aesthetic.
rather a dull colour, brown, i’ve always thought. no. no, not dull at all. it’s like the the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks. dark in the wavy spots with wee bits of auburn when the sun touches it.
“When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I’d have no doubt. And I didn’t. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, ‘Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.’”