#Outlander Fic

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Beside the Seaside: Ch 17

Jamie rolled to his side, his breath heavy as his eyes slid shut. His hand roamed across Claire’s belly and settled on the velvety skin at her hip, tracing patterns there with his fingertips. Claire hummed softly. Even coming down from the high of their joining, he still couldn’t get enough of her. As if she��d had the same thought, his wife rolled toward him and slid one arm around his waist. With new territory of her body exposed, his hand traveled the path of her spine, up to her neck and then down to her backside. She was a gift, every time; a living, breathing, burning work of art that he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch.

She placed several gentle, unhurried kisses along his bare chest and shoulder, and a soft groan escaped him.

“Tha gaol agam ort, mo ghràidh.” The declaration slipped out, unguarded and honest — and safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t grasp the meaning.

[read the rest on ao3]

[theawkwardterrier]

Won't You Walk With Me (out of the mouth of this holler), chapter 1

Her classmates all think her mad. Well, perhaps they had before regardless, considering that she'd exerted firm but inexorable pressure in order to get special permission to continue her training even after she and Frank had gone to the registry office that whirlwind autumn afternoon, and that she'd chosen to attend training in the first place when she might have been living comfortably in Oxford under the wings of Uncle Lamb's former colleagues, or at least their wives. But they especially think Claire mad now when, rather than exert a similar pressure on Frank to force him to change his mind, she accepts with enthusiasm his proposal that they move to the United States — and not to a city either, but to a particularly rural area of Kentucky.

Part of that decision had been the softening in her when she'd seen Frank's excitement upon receiving the letter from his cousin — the exuberance and eagerness for exploration which has been missing from him as he taught the basic and uninspired lecture courses he had been assigned to groups of competent but equally uninspired students. Now Frank's cousin Jonathan, owner of Randall Mining Limited, was asking that Frank come and research a history of the local mine and the mining company for publication. It was an involved, independent project which would allow the sort of consultations with fellow experts and enthusiasts and deep, devoted examination of archives that Frank had always loved.

But part had also been that Claire had assumed that this would be like the travels of her childhood, that even if giving up her nursing courses just before their completion was more of a wrench than convincing Uncle Lamb to keep her out of school had ever been, she and Frank would be a team the way that she and her uncle had been. The idea of going to a new place had never frightened her, although perhaps that came more than a bit from the fact that amidst all the strangers and the unfamiliarity, there was always someone steady she could rely on, someone who sought to include her in his work and appreciated her contributions to it…someone who would always be home.

In that respect, Kentucky turns out to be a bitter disappointment.

Read more on AO3...

[lara-frasers]

For Auld Lang Syne

Here's a NYE one-shot I wrote, featuring an AU version of Jamie and Claire 🥰 I hope you like it!

You can read it here

Happy New Year! ✨🎉

[jamiemackenziefraser]

Hey— remember me?? Remember my faerie Claire and her sweet-as-a-cinnamon-roll Jamie?? Well I just posted an epilogue to All That Was Fair that I’d written years ago. Here is one last glimpse into their happily ever after!

I told you never say never ;)

[labarboteuse]

Is anyone interested in an Outlander fanfiction ? It's quite hard to find here and I’m finally currently working on one (with our delightful William Ransom). If it works, I'm thinking of doing one also about Lord John.

Please tell me ! 🥰

[whorcruxes]

The Knight and the Dragon

Claire goes on a quest, seeking vengeance for her husband Jamie’s death.

AO3

[lady-o-ren]

JUST BETWEEN LOVERS

Ao3 link (HERE)

CHAPTER NINE

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

That particular verse of poetry would sometimes whisper into my ear when I'd find myself ridiculously happy, driving a stake of fear through my chest that only a kiss could quell.  

But sometimes I needed something a great deal more forceful to assure me that I wouldn't be swept away again and wake to a life deprived of love. 

Lucky for me, I knew someone who was more than up to the challenge. He thrived on it actually. 

//

"Aye, lemme hear ye, woman. Lemme hear ye scream," growled Jamie, as he slid his calloused fingers inside me and set me spectacularly aflame.

 . . .

My heart was pounding like thunder when I came to while Jamie chuckled with a ragged smugness against my all too tender flesh that had me squirming and swatting blindly at his head. The bastard only chuckled louder, holding my body still, as he dragged his rough stubbled cheek affectionately against my straining thighs with a fiendish persistence that had me trembling with anticipation. 

All was not over it seemed.

With what little breath I had to spare I smiled and reached for Jamie, looking smug and savage between my legs.

"You arse, come here."

With one last tantalizing kiss that made me gasp and tremble, Jamie heaved himself up over me where my head was thrown back against a pillow and draped by my sex wrecked curls.

"Ye're looking a bit winded there, mo nighean donn. Should I go easier on ye?" He grinned, eyes sparkling, and pinched the tip of my breast, now a rosy sore peak.

"I take it back. You're worse than an arse, Jamie Fraser. You're a bloody tease," I said, swatting at his massive chest between breaths, without an ounce of strength.

Jamie laughed and kissed my nose, my neck, where he'd bitten me earlier. The flushed skin tingling still. 

"Maybe so," he breathed along my ear," but I ken there's nothing ye like more than having yer wretch of a husband worship ye. And I'm doing a damn good job of it, aye, Sassenach?" I arched into his hand in answer, palming at my breast, and was just about to grab him by his gorgeous curls. Those lips of his just a kiss away . . .

"But if ye want me to stop . . ." Jamie pulled away, smirking down at me.

His amusement didn't last long though. 

I dug my fingers into the hard roped muscles of his arms holding him up and locked my legs around his hips, bringing his straining hot erection to the throbbing cradle between my thighs that made his eyes go to slits and mouth to part with a tortured moan. 

"I want you to get on with it," I panted, with a roll of my hips. 

"Ye're a cruel, bossy wee thing, Sassenach," Jamie rasped, rocking hard against me, making my vision blur with each jolt of pleasure.

"I can't help it. We never got to this part. I woke up too soon the last time," I whimpered, trying to capture his mouth, but succeeded in only nipping his scruffy chin between my hands. 

Jamie stopped moving, struggling to keep his wits from unraveling and hips from thrusting home.

 "Those dreams of yers again?" He asked, staring down at me with concern.

Dreams. Glimpses of another life. Whatever force that brought me to Jamie. I didn't question it anymore. But I wanted more than anything to chase the end of what was robbed from me over a year ago. 

"The kind that makes me scream and call you lord and master," I moaned, rubbing myself against him like a damn cat in heat. "Now stuff that big prick of yours inside me or I'll do it myself."

A gleam of wild desire darkened Jamie's eyes.

"Say that last part again," he growled, grabbing the plump fullness of my bottom to maneuver me to just the right angle.

"Make me." 

Jamie bit off an expletive and sucked in a short excited breath, seeing my breasts heave with breathy anticipation as I prepared myself to be punished into well-loved and fucked submission.

But then his expression warmed with sudden tenderness when he lowered his gaze and gently laid a loving hand against the tiny swell of my belly where our child was no bigger than the tip of their father's finger. 

"Weel, I've been told ye ought to indulge expectant mothers."

My hand covered his, daylight glinting off our wedding rings, and together we shared a joyful smile that bridged our hearts together. 

No, this wasn't another dream.

This, here with Jamie, and our child growing inside me, was blissfully real. 

[samsheughan]

approving all the lovely comments on ao3 yall really making me feel seen and loved coming out of fic writing retirement i love you guys so much

[pseudonym-lux]

THE CAST OF LABOUR OF LOVE (ACT ONE)

AOIFE MACBETH portrayed by eleanor tomlinson

CIARAN DUNSMORE portrayed by aiden turner

LANE CRAWFORD portrayed by claire foy

PATRICK MACBETH portrayed by ewan macgregor

RYAN BLACKWOOD portrayed by nicholas hoult

CAILEAN BLACKWOOD portrayed by nicholas hoult

CLAIRE BEAUCHAMP portrayed by caitriona balfe

JAMIE FRASER portrayed by sam heughan

MURTAGH FITZGIBBONS portrayed by duncan lacroix

DOUGAL MACKENZIE portrayed by graham mctavish

GEILLIS DUNCAN portrayed by lotte verbeek

"BLACK JACK" RANDALL portrayed by tobias menzies

RUPERT MACKENZIE portrayed by grant o'rourke

ANGUS MHOR portrayed by stephen walters

JENNY MURRAY portrayed by laura donnelly

IAN MURRAY portrayed by steven cree

reading links wattpad | ao3

[pxnsneverland]

Autumn Roses | Young Ian x OC (part 1)

plot summary: As a half black half white slave in colonial North Carolina, Rose has struggled with her place in the world. After her mother's death in childbirth and finding out that the recently deceased River Run plantation master was her father, the mistress of River Run, Jocasta Cameron, took her in treating her as more of a daughter than a slave. Jocasta educated and raised Rose with no one outside the house ever being the wiser. But the arrival of Jocasta's nephew Jamie Fraser and his wife Clare threaten to turn Rose's world upside down especially when they bring along their bright haired, blue eyed nephew Ian Murray.

pairings: Young Ian x OC

fandom: Outlander

word count: 2286

warnings/notes: Hey guys! I've had this Outlander fan fiction idea for awhile and I finally put pen to paper so to speak. I hope you all enjoy it! And those of you that know me from my Elvis fan fiction, no worries. I'm still writing it and will be updating soon :) 

Chapter 1: The Fateful Meeting

               River Run was not a locale where one could expect to encounter a plethora of thrilling events. Each day followed a set routine, a carefully crafted plan. Each individual was aware of their designated position. All but myself, I presume. There wasn't much of a place for negros in North Carolina society. They were considered slaves or possessions by the affluent white individuals who possessed the financial means to acquire them. I, too, followed in the footsteps of my mother, as countless others have done before me. From the moment of my birth, I was thrust into the cruel and inhumane world of slavery. Yet, despite my lowly status, I was afforded a modicum of respect and deference that set me apart from my fellow slaves. The circumstances surrounding my birth were shrouded in mystery, as my mother had passed away during delivery. It was not until years later that I was able to uncover the identity of my father, and the reasons behind my unique position as a lighter-skinned slave who resided within the household rather than toiling in the fields alongside my peers. Upon the passing of Master Cameron, I was summoned by his wife, Jocasta Cameron, at the tender age of eight. It was then that she imparted upon me the knowledge of my origins - a child born of a man who wielded his power over his possessions. Devoid of any offspring to call her own, she developed a fondness for my company. From that moment forward, my status shifted from that of a mere slave to that of a ward, receiving a different kind of treatment. Under the veil of secrecy, within the confines of River Run's protective isolation, Mistress Cameron imparted upon me a wealth of knowledge and skills. She taught me the art of reading and writing, the importance of proper speech, the intricacies of chess, the melodies of the piano, and any other subject that she would have typically taught her own flesh and blood. Tears streamed down my face as I contemplated the plight of my brethren who toiled ceaselessly in the fields and within the confines of the main house. For I, too, was akin to them - a mere possession adorned with precious jewels. In due course, I succumbed to the monotony of everyday life, much like the masses. However, my place left much to be desired, and the apprehension of never discovering my rightful place consumed me, as if such a haven was merely a figment of my imagination.   

On a stunning autumn day, I made the decision to settle beneath the grand oak tree in my front yard. With a book in hand, I whiled away the hours in peaceful solitude. Mistress Cameron sat on the porch, accompanied by her attendant Ulysses. He was a slave who assisted her in all her endeavors, given her blindness. Despite residing in the house slave quarters, he was treated almost as well as I. However, I had been granted my own room years ago, located in a separate wing of the house, far from any visitors who might chance upon it. I sensed the unwavering gaze of Mistress Cameron upon me, despite her lack of visual confirmation. Her admiration for me was so profound that I made every effort to avoid disappointing her. With my head bowed and my lips sealed, I remained hidden as instructed. The stakes were high, for if anyone were to discover that Mistress Cameron was imparting her knowledge upon me and treating me with her customary kindness, both she and I would face certain death.

            The day was a delight, with the gentle autumn breeze causing small ripples to form along the river nearby. The season of autumn had always held a special place in my heart. The leaves underwent a stunning transformation, displaying a vibrant array of colors. The fruits of one's labor were bountifully harvested. Perhaps I could have continued to relish the moment, were it not for the gradual approach of a boat traversing the river, its sound growing ever louder. With haste, I rose from my spot and sought refuge behind the towering tree, ensuring that I remained concealed from the body of water. The boat glided past me before coming to a halt just a stone's throw away from the walkway leading up to the house. I cautiously poked my head out, curious to catch a glimpse of the unexpected visitor. Anticipating the arrival of esteemed guests at River Run, I envisioned the likes of the governor, a soldier, or a lord, among the customary high-ranking individuals who graced us with their presence. In lieu of that, my gaze fell upon a towering, robust Scottish gentleman in the prime of his life, boasting locks of hair so fiery that they appeared to ignite in the sun's rays. He gallantly assisted a slender woman, who appeared to be slightly senior to him, in disembarking from the vessel. Her hair, pinned to the back of her head, was almost as curly as mine. Her skin was as pure as freshly fallen snow, unmarred by any imperfections, unlike that of so many other women. As she emerged from the boat, her gracefulness was striking.

Mistress Jocasta had risen from her seat, bringing Ulysses along with her. She now stood before them, a smile adorning her countenance. “Jamie. Welcome to River Run.”

            Jamie respectfully nodded his head. “Auntie Jocasta.” With a gallant gesture, he removed his hat and bestowed upon her a graceful bow.

            With open arms, Mistress Jocasta welcomed him into her embrace. Accepting her invitation, he embraced her tightly, conveying through the hug the length of time that had passed since their last meeting. “Blessed be,” she whispered softly, “You’ve grown to be a giant. That’ll be the Mackenzie blood flowing through ye.”

            A soft smile graced Jamie's lips. “I was no more than a bairn when you last saw me. Had nowhere to go but up.”

            So, the individual in question was Jamie. Mistress Cameron had devoted considerable time to recounting to me the tales of her family's history in Scotland and her formative years. Jamie, the youngest son of her sister Ellen, had been a name that had reached my ears. Mistress Cameron spoke of him in a manner akin to how she conversed with Ulysses about me, as if he were her very own offspring. Finally, I had the pleasure of putting a face to the name.

             “I recall ye had a most gorgeous heid of red hair,” she remarked, “Oh, how yer mother adored you.”

            “She adored you as well. Always spoke of you wi’ love.”

            “I miss her still.”

            “As do I,” he replied. Jamie hesitated for a moment before proceeding, “Ah, Auntie, may I present my wife Claire?”

            With a confident stride, Claire advanced towards Mistress Cameron, who lowered her head in deference. A smile appeared on Claire's lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Cameron.” Her English heritage piqued my interest slightly. The union of a Scotsman and an English woman was a rare sight indeed.

            “Oh, I hope you’ll call me Auntie, dear. We are kin after all.”

            “Of course,” Claire replied with a soft chuckle, “Auntie it is then.”

            “It’s lovely to meet you, Claire.” Mistress Cameron enveloped her upper arms with a warm embrace.

All of a sudden, a boy emerged and began to make his way up the path, catching my attention as I had not previously noticed his presence on the boat. He appeared to be no older than myself, perhaps even the same age of 16. With his lengthy blonde locks neatly tied back, his complexion, which was of a light hue, glistened with perspiration from diligently transferring their possessions from the vessel. With a wide and sincere grin, he drew near. The sight of that smile was enough to elicit a reciprocal grin from anyone who caught a glimpse of it. His striking good looks caused my heart to flutter uncontrollably, and I desperately willed it to cease its erratic beating.

            Ian. His name perfectly complemented his countenance - unassuming and charming.

            Ian clutched a bushel of wildflowers in his hands. “I’m very pleased to meet ye, Great-Aunt Jocasta.” He extended the bouquet of flowers towards her.

            “Ye’re welcome, lad.” You are most welcome, young man. I realized when she didn't take the flowers that Ian probably didn't realize she was blind. After all, he had never laid eyes on her.

            Ulysses came to the rescue, his voice a soft whisper in Mistress Cameron's ear as he spoke of the flowers that Ian had presented to her. As the realization dawned on her, her eyes widened with a sudden spark of understanding. Without hesitation, she reached out and took hold of the bushel, her fingers curling around it with a sense of purpose. “Thank you kindly, Ian. Forgive me. It is a long time since my sight had left me, though I still see shapes and shadows.”

            “I’m sorry to hear, Great-Auntie.” His countenance reflected the genuine distress he felt upon receiving the news. His kindness was palpable.

            “Oh, fear not, lad. It has been a blessing. I am now gifted with hearing that would be the envy of many a gossip, and the ability to sent truth from lies, if ye catch my meanin’.” His face lit up with a smile. Mistress Cameron spoke the truth. Throughout the duration of our acquaintance, she had consistently refused to regard her lack of sight as a hindrance. She navigated her surroundings with remarkable ease, almost as if she possessed perfect vision. Ulysses, her trusted companion, provided only sporadic assistance. I held great admiration for her actions. In that moment, a canine hastily approached Ian, positioning itself by his side with an uncontainable wag of its tail. With a joyful bark, he bid farewell to Mistress Jocasta and sprang off into the distance. “Oh goodness. Who have we there? Another acquaintance to be made.”

            With a quick movement of the eyes, Jamie stole a glance at Ian. “Young Ian’s…mongrel, Rollo. Take hold of your beast, lad.”

            With a nod, Ian chased after Rollo. No matter how hard he attempted to seize him, the dog darted beyond his grasp. A chuckle escaped my lips as I observed the comical sight of their cat-and-mouse game. Lost in my own amusement, I remained oblivious to Rollo's presence until he gently nudged the hem of my skirt from behind the tree. With a grin adorning his face, he patiently awaited my reaction. However, I found myself unable to respond. As Ian drew near, my heart nearly ceased beating, until he finally caught up to Rollo. “Rollo, you mangy beast, you can’t just go running off on Great-Auntie’s land.” He lifted his head to meet my gaze, his blue eyes widening as if he had just seen a ghost. Despite his pleasant demeanor towards Mistress Jocasta, I couldn't help but feel apprehensive about the potential harm he could inflict upon me. With a swift kick, I sent the book I had been engrossed in hurtling behind me, out of sight.

A lump had formed in my throat, impeding my breathing. Nonetheless, I persevered and managed to bow to him, my gaze fixed on the ground. “I’m sorry, Master Murray. I dinna mean to have any association with yer pet. Please forgive me.” At no other moment had I been as cognizant of the Scottish lilt that had been adopted from Mistress Cameron as I was presently.

Ian remained silent, leaving me on edge. I braced myself for any possible outcome, whether it be a physical altercation or an attack from his canine companion. My jaw tightened in anticipation. With a look of astonishment in his gaze, he uttered, “Ye’re the bonniest lass I’ve ever seen.”

My gaze was irresistibly drawn upwards, away from the ground. “What?”

Ian shook his head, as if to snap out of the current stream of consciousness that had been occupying his mind. “I’m sorry. I shouldna have been so forward. I’m Ian, Ian Murray.” In a swift motion, he grasped my hand and pressed his lips upon it with the grace of a chivalrous protagonist from a timeless tale. He bestowed upon me one of those smiles that had the power to make my heart flutter even from a distance. But now, as he stood before me, my heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

            As I was preparing to respond to him, my attention was diverted by the sound of my name being called out, “Rose!”

            With haste, I withdrew my hand from Ian's grip as Mistress Jocasta, accompanied by Jamie, Claire, and Ulysses, approached our vicinity. Mistress Jocasta's countenance betrayed a hint of displeasure, yet it was overshadowed by an air of apprehension. “I thought I told you to stay out of sight when we have company.”

            With a subtle movement, I placed my hands behind my back. “I was, Mistress Cameron, but Rollo…he found me���”

            “It was my fault, Great-Anutie,” Ian interjected, “I should have caught up wit’ Rollo before he went sniffin’ around.”

            Her fingers tightened around his shoulder. “It’s alright, lad.” A deep sigh escaped her lips. “We should all go inside. If you all are going to stay here awhile and since ye’re family, there are some things ye must know. I hope ye’ll keep an open mind.” Thus, we trailed after her as she led the way towards the main house. Ian strode alongside me, even though his legs surpassed mine in length. Every now and then, he cast a fleeting glance my way, but I refrained from reciprocating.

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Beside the Seaside: Ch 15

Chapter 15

Claire sat on the front porch steps and clasped her hands around her knees, watching Fergus and Faith play. The August sun dipped low on the horizon, a perfect summer evening stretched out before them. Footsteps tread along the porch and then Jamie sat on the top step behind her, his knees on either side of her.

“Here.” Jamie handed her a glass of whiskey and set his own next to him on the step.

“Oh, bless you,” she murmured, leaning back into his chest with a sigh. She felt him shake with a chuckle as he spotted the children.

“What the devil is Faith doing?”

“She got tired of Fergus trouncing her in their game and now is using physics to her advantage,” Claire explained, as Fergus tried to run past Faith with the rugby ball. Faith caught hold of his arm and spun as hard as she could, pitching Fergus to one side as he stumbled.

“That is not how you play!” Fergus howled from the grass as Faith stole the ball, giggling all the while.

Jamie’s arms went around her as he pressed a kiss to her temple, and Claire’s eyes slid shut in perfect contentment, absorbed in the warmth of Jamie and the sounds of the children’s laughter and shouts, and of the waves farther beyond.

[read the rest on ao3]

[theawkwardterrier]

Won’t You Walk With Me (out of the mouth of this holler), epilogue

Your parents think that filmmaking is a foolish, indulgent hobby, barely realistic or understandable as that and certainly no kind of career at all. They — and by extension, you — are from good, working stock, and they can’t understand why you would choose to take the college education that they labored and saved to give you, after generations of those who counted themselves lucky to stay in the schoolroom instead of having to work, and use it to do this. A few extra literature classes than required was one thing, but more than that? Making more of those little movies of yours? they ask, with more confusion than disgust, as if you are still a child and your imagination is so unbound that they cannot keep up with your games.

If you let yourself think about it, that’s probably why you chose this topic for your final film project. You wanted something that they could understand, and strikes and union dues have been the talk of your house since the beginnings of your memory. It’s also probably why you can’t make yourself be satisfied with the material that you already have, even though you’ve interviewed plenty of old union leaders and workers from back in the day, and know that what you can put together from that footage will easily earn you a top grade from your professors.

It is why, when your advisor is invited to speak at a conference in London and offers to pay your way so that you can attend as his assistant, your only question is whether you’d be able to stay for an extra day or two — just long enough to drive up to Scotland and back to Heathrow again.

Read more on AO3

[lara-frasers]

A fight for love and glory

Chapter 8: No Faith

You can read it here

Follow me on twitter for updates

[rhaenella]

As Luck Would Have It – Stephen Bonnet x Brianna Fraser

└▸ Summary: Brianna just broke up with Roger and she finds herself drinking alone, in a crowded pub on St. Patrick’s Day, trying to drown her sorrows in solitude. But when a downright creep starts harassing Brianna and won’t seem to leave her alone, a charming Irish stranger comes to her rescue. ❦

Masterlist

My first Stephen Bonnet x Brianna Fraser fic is here… :) @xeresmalfoy I hope you enjoy this smutfest little thank you / Christmas gift 😉😘

[littlecrabbs]

Chapter 1: Business as Usual

While working for a laboratory under his brother Hal, John Grey learns how little they see eye to eye. Grey navigates dealing with his petty and unrelenting brother inside and outside of the office, as well as concealing information he'd rather not let him know. Working with family has put his relationship with friends, family, and lovers under inspection in a way he never anticipated.

[frasers-of-my-heart]

Castle Leoch Jamie POV today for Wednesday100 🥰

Love my season 1 babies 😍

Jamie laid on his back in the hay and closed his eyes, picturing Claire’s face as he crossed the hall to Colum. He thought about her whisky eyes catching his own as he made his decision to take the girl’s punishment. He’s not sure he would have done it if he hadn’t seen her at that moment.

He wanted nothing more than to stand out to her. Well, that wasn’t honest—he wanted her, and knew he’d have a visit from her to look forward to after. He thought of being close to her now and started to feel a twitch…