Don’t stop now
Jamie Fraser x reader
Warnings: 18+, mostly fluff with a bit of a angst, oral
Summary
You're a barmaid at a tavern where Jamie Fraser shows up to with his entourage. While this men drown their sorrows in the drink, Jamie prefers to drown his sorrows in other endeavors.
It's a rowdy night at the bar, you're no stranger to nights like this, in fact you look forward to the heavy handed tips the men throw your way. Men splash ale on one another, women giggle and dance with each other, or in the arms of drunken men hoping to see the underside of their skirts. A few brawls break out but are quickly broken up by the owner and his son, Charles. Two level headed business men who refuse to partake in the drink, after spending most of their life in a tavern surrounded by babbling idiots. Just a typical night, you wouldn't have it any other way.
The height of the night is upon you and a group of four men walk in, one is quite small, one quite large, one a bit older, and one a redhead. They're clearly from around here, as the older one motions to a group and the table dispurses in an instant. Though they don't seem familiar to yourself, they're obviously recognized by the townsfolk. The tall red headed man, peers over towards the bar and eyes you, he does a double take as you're pouring two cups of ale and smiles devilishly in your direction.
Your eyes dart back and forth from the cups to the curious man, as you hand the ale to the women before you, when you notice him heading your way. Wiping your hands on your dress you smile and nod to him.
“What can I git ya, Mr..”
“Fraser, James Fraser.”
He extends his hand out and you shake it with a smile.
“What can I git ya, Mr.Faser?” You ask again.
“If you'd be so kind, a pale of your finest brew, for my lads.” He asks smiling.
“Of course,” you nod politely. “Four glasses?” You ask.
“Ah, pretty and astute.” He says.
“Pardon?” You say with a grin.
You load up a tray with cups and a pale of ale before him.
“It warms me to know my lands are not completely barren of bonny lasses like yeslef.” He winks, leaning against the bar.
“My lord!” You clatter the cups upon the tray, attempting to bow before the lord from behind the bar.
“Ay, no need to stand on ceremony for me, I am but a simple man, honored to be in the company of a beautiful woman…. It should be me who is bowing.”
He steps back and takes a slight bow before you. You feel your cheeks redden as a giggle erupts from within you as you clasp your hand over your chest.
“You're too kind, my lord. Please, enjoy the night and the spirits, on the house.” You reply gleefully.
“I appreciate it lass, although it will only be my men enjoying the drink tonight.”
You shoot him a puzzled look.
“While I appreciate your generosity, it is only the purest Scottish whisky I partake in these days.”
He winks devilishly at you before taking the tray in his hand and heading back over to the table with his men.
You wrack your brain thinking of where Charles and his father kept the good liquor. Normally the townsfolk couldn't dream of being able to afford a cup of pure Scottish whisky, nevermind get drunk off it. Thus, the owners kept a small stash of it in the back for occasions just as these.
You rush to the back of the alehouse and scan the dusty shelves lined with barrels of drink, mostly quickly brewed ale, what most of the townsfolk can afford. Peering in the darkened room, you spy two small glass bottles on the highest shelf. Peering around the room you spy a crate and hold your skirts up as you reach for the bottles. The crate beneath your foot lets out a large crack and you gasp gripping the dingy shelf tighter. It holds strong, as you retrieve the bottle and nestle it into the folds of your skirts while walking back out to the bar.
The lights and sounds hit you as you step from the darkness; the lord's eyes catching you and you smile. Peering around the room, you attempt to make your way back to the bar. You grab a whisky glass, dust it off and dry it before uncorking the bottle of whisky, its aroma fills your nose with delightful notes of amber and woods. You fill a glass and quickly slip the bottle away under the bar away from the patrons view. Placing the glass upon a tray amongst some other cups of ale, you make your way over to Lord Frasers table.
His men are loud in conversation and do little to acknowledge your presence. Lord Fraser grins wildly at you, and you return the smile as you place the glass of whisky in front of him. He peers down at the glass, doing another double take as his thick head of red locks tousle. You quickly disappear into the crowd before saying a word.
Behind the bar, Charles bustles about tending to patrons.
“Where have you been!?” He demands.
“I'm sorry, Charles, Lord Fraser and his men are seated over there and I thought it well to deliver a gift to his table.”
Charles slams the empty ale cups on the bar and peers around the bar.
“Ay, Lord Fraser you say?” He asks.
“Yes, he…he's right over there.” You say pointing in his direction.
The red headed lord looks over his shoulder seeing you point towards him and gives a faint wave. You smile and settle back on your feet, Charles sneering at your interaction with the lord.
“Ay, must go pay my respects I suppose.”
Charles bounds from behind The bar and barges his way through the crowded tavern. You pour drinks for the men in front of you, their eyes barely open with intoxication.
Charles approaches the lord and slaps him firmly on the shoulder. Lord Fraser stands and shakes Charles’ hand. Their conversation is unheard, but the Lord points toward you and smiles. He shows his whisky glass to Charles and you drop your gaze as you pour more ale cups for the customers approaching the bar.
Moments later Charles reappears behind the bar.
“Offering whiskey to the Lord was a good move, …he says he'll recommend the tavern to all who ask!”
You smile coyly as you wipe the clean glass in your hand.
“Ay, hurry and put that bottle back before a drunk sees it, and a brawl breaks out over it though, eh?”
You nod and secretly snatch the bottle of whiskey from under the bar, hiding it again in the folds of your skirts and hurry back down the darkened hallway towards the back of the alehouse.
You rush as you hear the roar of men and know you should hurry to return to the bar. In the darkened room you reach up, stepping to reach the highest shelf, when your full weight settels on the crate, a loud creak sounds from under your foot. You freeze, instantly remembering the uncertainty of the crate from earlier. The bottle is almost on the shelf as you carefully reach just a bit higher.
‘CRAAACK’
But its too late and you feel the crate give way. You shield your face with your arms as you prepare for the hard ground below you. You hear the smash of the whisky bottle but feel the padded landing of nothing compared to a hard floor. It takes you only a moment to realize you haven't hit the ground at all, but have fallen into the arms of… you peer up spying his vibrant blue eyes and shaggy red hair. Even in the dark, his features are flawless.
“My lord!” You gasp.
He eases you down on the ground and you stand close to him between the narrow shelves.
“Ay, are you alright lass?” He asks in a low gruff tone with a smirk.
“...I…Yes, thank you.. my Lord..” you say breathless, taken aback.
His hand reaches up and brushes your stray hairs from your face, gently tucking them behind your ear. Your breath catches in your throat at his touch. He's standing so close to you, holding your face in his hands.
“...My Lord..” you manage to squeeze out of your tight chest.
He brushes a finger over your lips.
“Shhh… Jamie, please call me Jamie.” He says with a smile.
You exhale quickly, your pulse quickens and your mind races, trying to comprehend what is happening.
“Tell me lass, would you do me the honors of allowing me…to…I would very much like to..to kiss you?”
You swallow hard, your core burning hearing his words. Your breath quickens yet again as you gasp slightly.
He searches for an answer in your eyes, cradling your face in his hands, his face slowly turns to terror.
“I'm…I'm so sorry lass, this was…”
“Yes!” You force yourself to speak quickly.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you. Slowly, he brushes his lips against yours. Gently caressing your jaw, he draws your face up towards his. Then harder he presses, his tongue gently grazing your mouth. He takes his time exploring your plump wet lips; softly grazing his teeth against them. Finally, he cocks his head, and his mouth devours yours. You moan into him, his hands gently gripping your neck lapping at your tongue.Your hands slide up under his coats and he quickly sheds them. His blunt finger tips trail down your neck, over your chest and pluck at the ties of your dress. He prys them from each intricate hole, as his mouth devours yours.
With the last lace your dress, your breast's spring free and he holds you firmly by the waist as he takes in full view of them before him. Your hips grind against his as you both stand gasping, wide eyed. His hand reaches to palm your breast, but pauses;
“…Would it be alright…; his hand shaking as he speaks. “..For me to touch you?..”
Your own hands creep along his large muscular torso, up to his collar where you carefully unbutton his shirt. Staring at his broad sculpted chest, you trail your fingers down his pecs, your fingers tracing the indents in his abs.
“…You may touch me…anywhere you please.” You reply shakily.
His rough hands squeeze your breasts, you take a sharp inhale. His fingers press into your soft sensitive skin, gently rubbing your nipples between his fingers as you moan.
His stomach covered with a thin layer of sweat as his chest huffs up and down, admiring you. You release him from your touch and reach behind your back to loosen the straps of your corset. It drops to the ground at your feet and the front of your blouse falls, exposing your skin to the cool damp air. His hands grip your hips, softly at first, then diggin his fingertips harder in your skin. He reaches down and lifts you by your ass up against the wall, pinning you as he buries his face within your breasts.
He kisses them softly, trailing his mouth down your stomach and back up, taking your nipples in his mouth and sucking eagerly at them. You gasp with pleasure, running your fingers through his thick head of hair. He grunts against your soft skin, his stubble rubbing you raw as he’s lapping, and sucking, and kissing the soft supple tits in his face.
You moan against him, panting breathlessly, before exploding with a sudden shout of pleasure. His teeth sink into the sensitive skin around your nipple, he pulls his head back taking it in his mouth again and sucks hard. It ignites a new sensation in your core, aching against him.
Suddenly, the door flings open, light rushing in shining perfectly upon the two of you, you gasp. Prying your faces from one another, he cranes his head and does his best to shelter you from the light peeking in.
“What in the bloody hell, is going on in here!?” Booms Charles voice.
Charles spies Jamie's piercing blue eyes staring back at him, seething with lust and anger..
“…My Lord, forgive me…” Charles stutters.
“Aye, close the door, this lass deserves proper privacy!” Jamie bellows back.
The door shuts abruptly and Jamie drops you to the ground gently.
“My..sincere apologies, lass..” he says breathlessly.
He kisses you hungrily again and you pull him against you, savoring his taste; the warmth of whisky, amber and wood, with the heat of lust and hunger. With his hands firmly on your waist, he prays himself from you and stares down longingly in your eyes.
“We…should probably get out of here..” he says in a huff.
“Jamie, no!” You plead, urgently. “You can’t, please!…don’t stop now!” You beg, pushing against him.
He grunts with your forcefulness, pinned between you and the wall, you stare up at him pleading with your eyes to him. He shoots you an apologetic look, eyeing the door.
“…Lass…” he says, stroking your hair softly.
You stand against one another still panting.
“Jamie!” You moan against his damp skin.
You pepper kisses across his chest, you are not about to let him leave, not now! Quickly, you decide to do something that would force him to stay. Something he couldn’t refuse to deny, nor could any man.
You peer down at his stomach, quivering a bit, eagerly undoing his belt and the front of his trousers. You pry them open, carefully grabbing his cock in your hand and pull it out from the layers of fabric. He groans at your touch, and you kneel down in front of him.
His cock; slowly growing stiffer and longer, in the grasp of your small warm hand. You feel the wetness slick and hot between your legs. Peering up with hunger in your eyes, you lick your lips and gently press his warm tip to your lips. You shoot your tongue out, wrapping his head in your warm mouth and peer back up at him.
“Shall we leave?…” You ask in a hushed voice.
“Christ lass, don’t stop now!” He cries, tilting his head back.
You wrap your wet lips around his pushing tip, swirling your tongue around him with a gentle tug. Your hand stroking him as you wetten his shaft with your mouth inch by inch. You have him right where you want him.
“…Don’t stop now!” He says again in a breathless moan. “ Christ, don’t ever stop!”
