Modern-day. Jamie Fraser and Claire Beauchamps run into one another in a bar in Brasilia one night, and sparks fly. He can't get away fast enough from the woman who ruined his life.
Words: 5027, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English
Fandoms: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Claire Beauchamps, Claire Beauchamp/Frank Randall, Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey, Annalise de Marillac/Jamie Fraser
Hello and welcome to my contribution to the @lordjohngreyreadingnook Trick-or-Twink event!
Title: Beetlejuice and Witchcraft
Rating: T (Scooby-Doo levels of horror)
Pairing: Lord John Grey/Brian Randall
Tags: genderbent character, modern AU, witchcraft, ghosts, mentions of executions
Summary: John Grey just wanted to take a nice walk but somehow ended up running into Beetlejuice and going witch-hunting on Halloween night.
Excerpt:
He hadn't wanted to engage with the man, content about going about his own night but there was a quiver in the man's shoulders that concerned John. Perhaps he was crying? Or drunk? Or worse, he had taken something illicit at a party before wandering off to die of exposure in the park unless John intervened. And since John found himself morally opposed to letting some poor fool die alone in a park he went to check on him.
Read on AO3
lol this the first fanfic ive published since i was 13
Anonymous said: Can you write some Claire x Jenny?
Author’s note: 2019 Queerlander is upon us! This is an FF au lightly sprinkled with fantasy. Enjoy!
In the Cabin
by @ianmuyrray
Jenny was a princess. Not an ordinary princess, she was aware of that, even though she might appear as one to others. She wore the dresses and the tiara; she threw dinner parties and knew how to waltz. She could hold court, school her features into an immobile mask, even insult someone while making it sound like a compliment.
But nothing was quite as important to Jenny as escape, pretending to be someone she was not. She was never as fulfilled as when she snuck away in a pair of her brother's breeches, tied tight about the waist to keep them from falling, the cuffs rolled to prevent tripping. She preferred to escape outside the confines of the castle, to run and pretend she wasn’t, in fact, royalty. That she didn’t have obligations or responsibilities outside of herself. She considered the headache earned from her hair twisted in a tight, hasty braid a badge of honor and her sunburned cheeks a trophy well earned.
Her most trusted companion on these excursions was her horse, Marble. Marble would know, before Jenny even twitched the reins, in what direction she wanted to ride, and what speed she’d want to travel at.
There was a cabin, not far from the lake, where the court healer lived. It was Jenny’s preferred place to be.
Jenny's mind drifted there now, even as she sat in her father's council room, her brother looking as bored as she felt while he sat sprawled on his large stone chair. Throne. Whatever they were calling it these days.
Spoiled brat, Jenny thought, running her hand down the wooden arms of her much smaller chair, sitting up straighter.
She frowned, trying to regain focus on the state affairs her father worked hard to keep the two of them apprised of. She tried hard to pretend to care. But her mind kept drifting, seeking that warm little cabin, with the scent of bergamot in the air, the soft prick of a wolf fur bed against her back, her knees, her palms, her cheek, the graceful lines of the feminine person inside it, the sound of her heavy breathing...
A throat cleared, and then she heard a voice, "Janet."
"Mm?"
Brian's black brows were raised. "I was saying, I have some news for ye."
She folded her hands in her lap, the cabin vanishing from her mind as her eyes caught on the new person in the room.
A man, of marriageable age. He merely stood there and gave her an expectant look. Oh no. No, no, no.
Shock flared in her eyes before it extinguished itself into courtly, passive femininity.
"This is Ian Murray," her father said, and Jenny forced herself to smile at the man as he was introduced. He was all hard lines and angles, nothing of the softness or grace she'd come to know and prefer. "Your betrothed."
Jenny inhaled deeply, crumpling her silk skirts in her fists. She let go, and then crumpled them again. Took a breath in, let the breath out.
Her eyes were hard as stone as she studied him, though she continued to give him the smile she knew she had to.
"It's a pleasure to meet ye, Ian," she whispered, and it was only the wine she'd had with dinner that had made it possible to speak.
“He is from a neighboring clan,” her father continued. “An alliance greatly desired.”
Ian bowed slightly, the sword at his hip sweeping back just a bit.
Jenny stood abruptly, her wooden chair scraping against the stone floor with an ungodly sound, ringing in the silence. "Excuse me," she said, as soft as she could, trying to cover for the way her slippered feet stomped out of the room.
And Ian looked like he was going to apologize for merely existing, damn him.
She flew into her room to pack her bags. Her belongings were flung across her room, the wardrobe emptied, the doors left open. Discarded clothes lay in piles on the floor, the four-poster bed. She tore herself out of her silken gown, unpinned her hair. She eventually settled for two dresses that might pass for a peasant’s and stepped into a set of Jamie's clothes, stolen from the laundry a long time ago. The breeches afforded her much-desired freedom of movement and the shirt hung loose on her, several sizes too big and built for a man's body, not the figure of a woman's. But it was freedom; it was hers. She needed to claim what moves she could on the game board she’d been placed.
She was lacing herself into her boots when she heard a knock at her door. Stomach turning leaden, she opened it slowly, then swept it wide upon seeing who it was.
"Jamie.”
He stepped into her room and she closed the door behind him, latching it locked.
"I know," he began. "And I'm sorry. But ye must've kent it would always be this way."
She did. She'd known. This was her fate -- to be shipped off and married to the most eligible bachelor, for the sake of alliances and politics. A pawn in a game she had no power to play; where perhaps, as a woman, she had the most to lose.
Because this was Jamie, she nodded.
He went on, "If it makes it any easier, I know Ian. From the war. He's an officer, a damn good one. Someone who will be an asset to the family as a man, not just for his connection to Clan Murray."
"And to me?" Jenny demanded.
"He'll be an asset to you, too, Janet. If ye give him a chance."
"But what if I can't?" she said, her voice barely audible, her mind once again imagining a flurry of skirts in the garden of that cabin by the lake, of the tinkle of laughter and the flutter of a shift as it dropped. Jenny wanted to weep, to scream.
"He'll understand."
"What if he doesn't?"
Jamie's shoulders dropped. "I might --" but then he sighed. "Go. Go to her. I won't tell anyone."
So Jenny ran. She ran to the stables, to her horse. Like always, Marble knew she would be coming. She saddled him, leapt onto him. The horse let off nothing more than a grunt of excitement as she flicked the reins.
Jenny was electric, needing to outrun her own power. But as she neared the cabin, the world seemed to still its spinning, and mist seemed to hover, shimmering in the air.
Marble trotted near the front door, stopping at the fence post where Jenny always tied him. She hopped off, catching a brief whiff of her own scent, sweet with the tang of musk.
The woman who lived in this cabin was alone in the world. She had no one but Jenny -- she had chosen Jenny.
Jenny strode up the cobbled path to the door, removing her feathered hat and riding gloves as she went. Sweat beaded and dripped between her breasts and down her stomach; she picked at her shirt, trying to air it out.
It was night and yet the air was sweltering.
The door flew open before she knocked, bathing the blue night in a swath of orange light.
A soft, feminine body tackled her and held her tight, curls swarming Jenny's face. "I heard the news. The servants told me."
Jenny breathed the woman in, buried her face in that hair, her nose brushing just so against the woman's cheek. She placed a kiss to the corner of her jaw, content to just hold her.
"Claire," she breathed. Her knees wanted to buckle at the touch of her.
Claire nearly withdrew. "But what about--"
"Don't." Jenny held her tight, refusing the request to pull away. A hot tear swept down her cheek.
Claire was taller than her by nearly a head, but that didn't stop Jenny from gripping her tightly about the waist and lifting her, if only briefly, to set her back inside the threshold. The cabin door swung shut behind them, bathing the field, and Marble, once again in a sea of blue.
a/n: hope you enjoy some more of Claire, Emily and Jamie! Thank you as always to @julesbeauchamp for this moodboard!
Ch. 1 - Bedside Manners | Ch. 2 - The Telegram | Ch. 3 - What We Did in the Dark | Ch. 4 - Explosions | Ch. 5 - A Soldier
August 1946
Jamie had only been home five months. He had been a prisoner in the war and thought he’d surely die. After he was released, he spent a couple weeks trying to find his way home. That’s how he stumbled upon the home of Claire Beauchamp and Emily Hampton. When they asked him to join them in their bed, Jamie really thought he’d died in the war and gone to Heaven.
But he hadn’t — it’d all been real. And they were all he could think of since the day they brought him home to Lallybroch. Emily’s kind eyes and sweet smile. Claire’s riotous curls and the feel of her body under his. Jamie had been trying to make his way back to visit them, but his Mam wasn’t too keen on letting him out of her sight.
“’Tis just to visit a friend, Mam,” Jamie grumbled, taking a bite of his morning porridge. “I was in the army, I fought and crawled in trenches. I think I can manage takin’ the car a ways down the road.”
His mother, Ellen, clicked her tongue, running her hand over his curls as she passed him to place a plate of fruit onto the table. “I ken that lad, but I — well, I’m afraid that if ye leave, ye willna return. I dinna think I can go through that again.”
“Mam,” Jamie leveled with her, reaching his hand up to her. She took it gladly, squeezing it tight. “I will come home. I’m no going off to march or fight this time. That is over. There are some friends I’d like to see, I willna be gone more than a day.”
He could see that his mother was worried for him and in all honesty, he liked that she was. But he was a man of twenty-four and was perfectly capable of going out on his own. Being cooped up in this house and only going to the village when accompanied was driving him insane.
“Fine,” Ellen reluctantly agreed. “A day and no more, ye hear?”
“A day and no more,” Jamie nodded, smiling as he finished his breakfast.
It was the next day that he left in his family’s white Hillman Minx, destination: Inverness.
The whole drive there, which wasn’t very long, he was trying to think about what to say to them. Of course he hoped for another welcoming invitation like before, but he wasn’t going to expect anything. They had been kind to him and he simply wanted to see how they were doing. At least that’s what he told himself.
Less than an hour since he left, Jamie pulled up to the small cottage that he had first seen those many months ago. It looked much the same, a few more flowers out front and the window shutters looked freshly painted — but the same.
Gathering up all his solider courage, Jamie climbed out of the car and straightened his shirt — he wanted to look presentable for the lasses. It took him ten steps to get from his car to the front door and he held up his hand, waited a moment and then knocked three times.
He couldn’t tell if anyone was home, but as he peered around the corner, he saw two bikes — one the same as he’d seen Claire riding that day. Suddenly, there was a gust of air on his face as the door opened, revealing Emily.
“Jamie! Is that really you?” She said in her thick American accent. He smiled as he leaned down to her small stature and wrapped his arms around her. “Why I thought we’d never see you again.”
“’Tis good to see ye Emily,” He kissed her cheek. “I’ve been meanin’ to come sooner to say hello, but my Mam wouldna let me out of her sight. Afraid I’ll no come back.”
“And why wouldn’t she,” Emily winked. “She’s got her boy home, safe. Well no matter, you’re here now!” She welcomed him in, opening the door wider to let him in. “Claire will be so pleased to see you.”
“Claire?” Jamie’s voice hitched a bit on her name. While he thought Emily beautiful and a wonderful lass, it was Claire that really made his heart beat erratically. “She’s here?”
“Oh yes! Just out back in the garden. You stay put, Jamie. I’ll go and get her,” Emily motioned her arm for him to take a seat on one of the kitchen stools and he sat, taking a deep breath.
Not a moment later, Emily came back followed by Claire. She was as lovely as ever. A glean of sweat on her forehead from working out in the sun, a bit of dirt on her nose and her curls tied up in a blue and white striped bandana.
“Jamie Fraser,” Claire smiled as she stepped out from behind Emily. Then he saw how she had changed. Her belly was big — obviously with child. Claire’s face froze as she saw the expression on his face and then she looked down, her hand resting on top of the bump.
“It seems we have a few things to talk about,” She smiled nervously.
++++++
“So yer pregnant,” Jamie said.
“Yes,” I nodded. After Jamie had managed to pick his jaw up off the floor, we had all moved to the living room. Emily set a teapot down on the table next to three cups, then came to sit beside me. “Nearly five months.”
“The father?”
“That’ll be you of course,” I grinned and saw the muscles in his shoulder relax. “Jamie, we’re so sorry that we didn’t tell you. There’s no excuse for it.”
“Please don’t think that we used you for it,” Emily said, her hand sliding over my stomach. “We were just as shocked as you were when we found out. You see,” Emily glanced at me and I nodded. “Claire was married to a man before and they never could get pregnant.”
“I thought I wasn’t able to conceive,” I said. “So that’s why Emily said that you could um—“
“Have you,” Jamie smiled, finishing my thought. “I dinna think ye used me. Were ye ever goin’ to tell me?”
“We were still debating whether we should or not,” I said and then leaned forward to pour myself a cup of tea. “We know you just got back from the war and had a terrible time there. A baby conceived with a near stranger — one with two mothers, it seemed a bit complicated.”
“Aye,” he chuckled then. “There’s nothing simple about it. Well, I ken know. And if ye would allow me, I would verra much like to be part of the wee lass or lad’s life.”
Emily squeezed my hand and I turned to look at her. We lived such a complicated life, having to shield the true nature of our relationship. Surely, having Jamie in the picture would help explain why and obviously how I was pregnant. Besides, he was a handsome man and very kind. He was waiting for our answer, those blue eyes piercing into mine, his fingers tapping against his thigh.
“Of course you can, Jamie. We would love nothing more.”
His smile lit up his face and it was contagious. He rose from the chair and lifted me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me. It felt good to be touching him again — so often he had come to me in my dreams these past months. Then, he bent down to his knees and placed a gentle kiss to my stomach. “Hello wee one, ’tis yer father.”
I ran my hands through his curls and then tugged a bit until he rose and then leaned my head against his chest. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but I had been scared after I found out I was pregnant. But also joyful, because I never thought Emily or I would be able to raise a child together.
Jamie’s arm lifted from my back and then I felt Emily pressing against me. I turned my body and wrapped my arms around both of them. We were a odd little family, but a family nonetheless.
A few happy tears later, and cups of tea drank, I went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. I kept it simple, roasted vegetables and glazed chicken. Jamie and Emily sat in the living room and I listened as Jamie told her more about his time in the war.
It felt like a lifetime ago. When I had first joined the army as a nurse and met Emily. We’d been through so much together. We’d both lost loves, but in the process we had found each other. Now, Jamie was a part of it — whatever it was.
As I finished plating the meal onto our plates, I glanced up to see Jamie’s fingers lightly stroking Emily’s arm. When she had told me he was here, my heart leapt a little bit. But I didn’t want to presume that he would end up in our bed tonight.
Smiling to myself about future possibilities, I called that dinner was ready and they both rose from the couch, coming to grab their plates and take them to the dinner table.
“So how have you been, Jamie?” I asked, taking a bite of chicken.
“Verra good, Sassenach. I’ve been at home mostly helpin’ wi’ the house. Just spending time wi’ my family.”
“I bet they’re glad to have you home and safe,” Emily smiled. She took a sip of wine and I felt my tongue salivate — what I wouldn’t give for a drink right about now.
“Och, yes. My Mam has never been more happy and my Da is just glad to have more male company in the house,” He laughed. “My sister Jenny is marrit — to my best friend,” he added. “But still, between Jenny’s bairns and then there’s Mam, the women out number the men.”
“And now there’s another two ladies,” I grinned. “Possibly a third.”
“Will you tell your family about the baby?”
He took another bite of his food, his eyes squinting as the wheels of his mind worked. “Aye. I’ll tell my Da first and then my Mam. They’ll be pleased about the bairn, but of course this is a… complicated relationship to explain.”
I laughed, “You’ve got that right.”
We all finished the meal rather quickly. There was a certain feeling of eagerness and expectation that seemed fit to burst at any given moment. So it came to no surprise when after the dishes were cleaned and put away that we wall ended up in the bedroom.
Everyone was quiet. The only sound was from Jamie — his breathing had quickened tremendously the moment he stepped foot here. No words were needed for what we all knew we wanted.
Before things progressed, however, Jamie smiled, his hands on his hips as he looked at Emily and I. “Sassenach, Emily… I dinna want to —“ he coughed nervously and I saw pink rising up his cheeks. “I dinna want to harm the bairn.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his worry. “Oh Jamie,” I sighed and walked over to him, my hand on his chest. “You won’t hurt the baby. He won’t feel a thing, but I actually had something else in mind.”
I walked over to Emily, sliding my hand around her waist. “I want to watch.”
“Watch?” Jamie smirked and his hands went to the top button of his shirt.
“Of course, I’ll participate later,” I smiled, squeezing Emily’s side. “But I’d like to watch you two. And yes,” I winked, “We have condoms.”
Jamie took a deep breath, his hands on the last button and then he smiled at the both of us. “As long as ye’ll participate later, Sassenach.”
“Oh she will,” Emily laughed, kissing my cheek. I pulled my arm away and then moved to sit in the chair in the corner of the room. Jamie’s hands were at Emily’s waist and then moved to her back to pull on the zipper of her dress.
Not wearing under garments most days, when the dress fell to the floor, she was completely naked. The sight of her made my mouth water, but the sight of Jamie — his hand gently cupping her breast made me almost drool.
“Touch him,” I said from the corner and Emily turned her head back to me slightly before reaching up and pulling Jamie’s white shirt down his arms. Next, her skilled hands were at the fly of his trousers, pulling down the zipper. I heard Jamie’s breath catch as her fingers must have touched his cock.
I had pulled up my dress and it was pooled around my waist. As I watched Emily pull down his trousers, along with his boxers, I unbuttoned the top buttons of my dress, sliding my hand in to cup my breast. Just then, Jamie’s eyes flickered over to mine and then I saw his mouth part as he watched me.
“Lay back,” Jamie smiled to Emily and guided her to lay down on the bed behind them. A moment later, he reached over beside the bed where Emily told him the condoms would be. Of course, we didn’t use them. We had purchased them after Jamie had visited the first time with hopes that he would return.
My other hand slid down between my parted legs, lightly touching my thighs. Jamie rolled the condom on his cock, semi-hard between his legs. Then Emily cupped his face, pulling him down to kiss her. The smacking sounds of their lips and the gentle rock of their bodies was making me wish I hadn’t said I would watch in the first place. But I kept watching — my eyes glued to where Jamie’s cock was teasing Emily’s entrance.
“Oh God,” She moaned. I slid a finger inside of me at the sound, moaning myself. Jamie’s mouth descended on her breast, sucking and licking her nipples. “Christ,” He stuttered as he put both his hands on her legs and opened them wide.
Three simultaneous moans filled the room whenever Jamie finally slid into her. Emily’s hips bucked up and he began to roll against her, his stomach pressing down on hers. As I watched them, I pumped my hand inside of me, biting my lip. I had been with them both and now seeing them together was a feeling like nothing else. Emily placed kisses along his chest, her hands holding onto his hips as he drove home again and again. He was gentle, but with a certain fierceness in his movements.
Quietly, I rose and undressed, shedding my layers until I was naked. I knew they were both coming to the end. As I walked over to the bed, I saw Jamie’s head turn towards me, a smirk across his lips. I crawled up behind him, running my hands lightly against his scarred back. Then I took hold of Emily’s ankles and squeezed them, running my hands up along her calves. As Jamie thrust into her, I pressed myself against him, feeling him rub against me.
“Uhhh,” Emily moaned into Jamie’s mouth as they kissed. I laid my hand on Jamie’s balls, squeezing them and then he let out a deep groan and I knew he had come. My belly was only a little in the way, but not so much that I still couldn’t bend my body over him to press a kiss to Jamie’s back.
Slowly he pulled out of her and then manuevered to lay beside her. She was glowing. Her hair a mess around her face, undone from her high bun from earlier. A light sweat on her forehead and chest, her nipples peaked and pink. As she breathed heavily, I moved up the bed and placed a kiss to her breasts.
“Oh Claire,” She sighed, her hand resting on my hip. I wasn’t done with them just yet. I rolled over onto my back.
“Jamie, come here,” I said as I moved down a bit on the bed. He smiled, his eyes alight as he came to hover over my body. I put my hands on his hips and then squeezed. “Move up.”
“Up?”
“Yes, up,” I smirked and then took hold of his cock, pulling off the condom and tossing it to the floor. He groaned whenever I held him and then he got the idea. Jamie moved his body up over mine until his cock was close to my mouth. Both his hands reached out in front of him, landing on the wall.
“Emily,” I said softly and Jamie’s body twitched from the breath he felt.
“I know,” I heard her smile and then I felt her in between my legs, her hands on my thighs, pulling them apart. Glancing up, I met Jamie’s eyes and he looked like he was in Heaven. Slowly, I placed my tongue on the tip of him, then closed my lips over it.
His hips bucked at the touch and then mine did as I felt Emily’s tongue on my slit. I was going to have to keep focus and not lose myself in the feel of her. One of Jamie’s hands came off the wall and tangled itself in my hair, tugging slightly so I would meet his eye. As I took more of him in my mouth, he held my gaze. So he wanted to watch.
I put my hand around him and began to pump. Fingers grazed his balls and I continued to suck, lick and nibble. Jamie was moaning, his expression one of absolute bliss. It was almost like he’d never had his cock sucked before.
Emily’s tongue licked leisurely up my folds, tasting me, biting me gently. My hips swirled, trying to get more of her. Her small hand came down on my hip, holding me to the bed and I moaned, which made Jamie grunt. The hand on my head began to move, pressing me to take more of him. I obliged by sucking deeper, moving my tongue around. Then I pulled back, kissing the tip before sucking just on the head.
He must have been painfully hard. I began to taste him as he thrust his hips forward, gently, but with enough force to almost make me gag. Emily pushed a finger inside of me, pumping it quickly and as my belly tightened, I drank him down.
Jamie came in short hot bursts, and I arched my back, pressing myself against Emily and with a flick of her finger, I came, groaning with Jamie’s cock in my mouth. All of us were breathing hard and Jamie held still above me after I released him from my grasp. Then he climbed off, sitting down beside me. He laid a large hand over my stomach. Emily moved up my body, kissing me and I tasted myself and Jamie mixed together.
She laid down beside me, her hand coming to lay on top of Jamie’s. It wasn’t what I planned — this family, but it was mine.
Based on PROMPT #1 from @thelallybrochlibrary: Jamie and Claire meet at a PRIDE parade/event. Romance ensues.
This story is a first for me in a few ways- my first attempt at writing a relationship other than Jamie and Claire (they’re in here- trust me), my first attempt at writing characters I’m not SUPER familiar with, and my first attempt to write those two characters together who are no where near each other in canon.
BUT that hasn’t stopped me before so I am jumping in with both feet and seeing where this goes.
I’m nervous to post this story- because I don’t want to fuck it up. Representation matters and I want to get this right. ❤
@smoakingwaffles thank you for letting me send you ANOTHER fic to BETA.
@futurelounging thank you for putting up with my questions with the photo editing for this banner. And my favorite part of this chapter was your little plot bunny. All the credit to you, I hope I didn’t fail you with it.
Claire
“What’s the bloke’s name again?” Claire asked as she picked up her camera, checking the memory card and battery.
“Willie.” Geillis’s voice was somewhat muffled as she tried on the last in a string of colorful shirts. “Willie Fraser. Only met him once or twice but he’s a bonny lad.”
“How will I find him? The place will be mayhem.”
“I’ll take ye to him, but only if ye help me settle on the right top.”
She smiled and laughed, seeing her most recent choice- LET ME BE PERFECTLY QUEER written across the chest.
The streets were lined with rainbow flags, confetti, and smiling faces. Music pulsed through the air and an infectious energy filled her as she followed Geillis through the crowd.
Throngs of excited faces lined the pavement of Edinburgh. Rainbow kilts, little kids with colorful balloons, and signs with declarations of love filled the streets. Countless floats were lined up, facing the destination around the corner-a large stage constructed at the end of the parade route.
Flashes of color filled her vision as they darted between the pockets of people. Claire squeezed Geillis’s hand to slow her pace as the crowd started to fill the alleyways.
Geillis pointed to the square, eyeing the crowd as she stopped. “He said to meet here at the fountain at one o’clock. He’s a tall bloke- bright red hair, blue eyes. Heart-shatteringly gorgeous. Canna miss him.” Claire’s cheeks blushed at this and Geillis giggled, elbowing her in the ribs and giving a wink. “Dinna fash lass… ye ken yer no’ his type. He’ll give the signal when it’s time.”
How had she been roped into this?
She hadn’t picked up her camera in months. Medical school hadn’t afforded her any free time, but Geillis had begged her to fill in after the hired photographer backed out at the last minute. Like healing, she hoped that when the time came, her hands would remember what to do. She was determined to capture as much as she could- she just wished she wasn’t so out of practice.
She checked her camera settings as she waited, a nervous habit- always wanting to be ready for the unscripted look, feeling, or reaction that would capture the moment. Looking up from her lens to gauge the direction of the sun, her eyes caught the sight of a mess of auburn curls above the crowd. A sharp jawline framed a strikingly beautiful face. Blue eyes scanned the mass of people- relaxed, happy. Without thinking, she pulled the camera to her eye, focused and snapped three photos, all fixated on the mop of red.
Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.
Please say that’s not Willie.
Jamie
Almost one o’clock.
“Come on ye lazy dolts, yer gonna miss the parade.” He looked back, seeing their hands linked and matching flags- one wrapped around Willie’s shoulders, the other was small and hanging loose from John’s back pocket.
His brother Willie had always been loud and proud. John on the other hand… he was subtle, unsure. Opposites in every sense of the word. But they loved each other- they had from the moment they met three years ago.
This parade. This place, this energy, this acceptance of both life and love. This is where it all started. Jamie had witnessed that exact moment, and it was as sure as the sunrise in the morning that they would end up here. On this sunny day, with love and affirmation filling the air, his older brother would finally have what he longed for most- with him.
Today was going to be a good day.
Hopefully.
He turned back again, this time seeing them entangled in an embrace- arms locked around each other and hands intertwined in each other’s hair and clothing. Willie was whispering something, the tips of his ears a deep red as his lips curled into a smile against John’s cheek. Jamie shook his head as he laughed and whistled to get their attention, “Come on ye two leannan, or we’ll miss the parade,” as he led them towards the fountain in the main square.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie caught a flash of curly brown hair, Ray Ban sunglasses, and a camera. His eyes followed her as she looked around, neck craned in search of something.
Please say that’s the photographer.
Jamie looked to see Willie’s eyes sparkling with excitement, and he attempted a wink at his younger brother. Seeing the failed gesture, Jamie laughed in response- a wide smile splashed across his face.
“John, I’m gonna go grab a snow cone, want me to grab ye one, too?”
“Oh sure, thanks love.” John smiled, watching as Willie dipped through the crowd; a bounce in his step made him laugh. He tilted his head and smiled, “Sometimes I wonder about that brother of yours.”
“Oh aye- every damn day- and twice on Sunday,” Jamie chuckled as he elbowed John’s ribs. “So are ye two still goin’ on that trip up the coast this fall? Sounds like a bonny holiday.”
“That’s the plan. Willie’s been pretty busy with work these last few weeks, can’t seem to get a straight answer out of him lately.”
Jamie hummed in response, a small smile pulling at his lip that he shook off with a cough. “Tryin’ to peg him down is like herdin’ drunken sheep.”
John had become like another brother to Jamie. He’d watched as Willie’s edges had been slowly softened by John’s quiet presence, but his joy and exuberance had not been dampened- rather it took on a spectacular glow that emanated from his smile to his fingertips.
But the past three years had also showed Jamie just how much he was missing in his own life. A quintessential little brother jealousy crept in as he watched John wait for Willie. The look of anticipation and eagerness on John’s face pinged at his own heart. Willie had John; he needed his someone now, too.
But today was about Willie and John.
The music blasted over the loud speaker, signaling the start of the parade.
John scanned the crowd, looking around with a hint of anxiety creeping into his voice, “Do you see Willie?”
Jamie felt the excitement rise in his chest, and he let his smile show as he said, “Not yet.”
The line of floats slowly passed, and John’s head swiveled around again, eyes darting. The sound of Willie’s voice over the loudspeaker stopped him cold.
“Hello Edinburgh!” Willie’s voice was electric as it echoed through the crowd as the cheers quieted.
John turned to see Willie on the platform of a float, on bended knee.
Willie’s blue eyes glistened in the sun as his eyes locked on John’s face. “I hope you’ll indulge me for just a moment… because I needta say somethin’.”
Jamie put his arm around John and gently pushed him forward. John’s eyes were wide like a deer caught in headlights.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie caught the sound of the camera shutter and smiled- it was the photographer. He held his hand out to her, signaling to follow John. With one eye focused through the lens, she nodded- smiling back at him between shutter clicks.
“John Grey,” his voice was starting to shake as he spoke into the microphone, “When I was a bairn, I asked my Da ‘how do ye know when ye find ‘the one’- and he said, “When the time came, I’d have no doubt.’ An’ he was right.”
Murmurs and soft ‘ahhhs’ rippled through the crowd as John stood holding Willie’s hand, tears brimming over as their eyes stayed locked on each other.
“We met here three years ago. This day. This place. It brought me you.” Willie’s voice was low, husky as he cleared his throat, it was thick with emotion as he took in John’s face. “Ye’ve given me more love, compassion, and happiness than I ever thought to hope for... Ye also give me a healthy dose of cheeky British wit when I need it most.”
John’s face broke from tears to laughter as he raised his hand to his mouth, covering it. From where Jamie stood, he could tell it was shaking and he let out a whistle of encouragement.
Willie’s voice turned serious as he took a deep breath, letting the crowd die down again. “I promise ye a lifetime of adventure, of love, of us. Will ye marry me?”
John nodded his head and through the microphone the crowd heard his answer, a half sob followed by “Yes!” and with that, Willie leapt to his feet. His arms encompassed John, one arm around his waist and the other at the base of his neck, holding his face to his as they kissed. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as a flurry of confetti, streamers, and music filled the air around them. The float resumed its movement, and Jamie was close enough to them to hear them as they passed.
Holding Willie close, John laughed as he said, “I’m gonna kill you.”
With another failed wink Willie nuzzled his nose to John’s as he said, “Marry me first.”
As the procession continued, Jamie turned to see the photographer at his side, snapping one last photo. Looking back to his brother, he saw their silhouettes, arms wrapped around each other against the backdrop of a rainbow of color and confetti. That’s the perfect shot.
His eyes wandered back to the bird’s nest of curls behind the lens, and he smiled.
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.”
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.
