#jamie/claire 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]

[lara-frasers]

Faith finds us

Chapter 3: A friend

These two (three!) are gradually becoming closer, setting the scene for more to come! This chapter brings: reading time, sleepy Faith, some pizza and a nice dose of softness for all 🥰

You can read it here

And you can follow me on twitter here ✨

[adsosfraser]

10 First Lines

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

(I'm going by latest updated not by the last "published" dates because that's too much work to search through.)

Eventide (everlark): Peeta lunged forward on the decorative rug stretched out before him for what was probably the fifth time that night.

Da mi diebus mille (jamieclaire): Claire Beauchamp stretched her legs up the three steep steps towards the entrance of the plane.

She Moved Through the Fair (everlark): All around, dandelions that have gone to seed whip around us, dotting the edge of the landscape of waving green grass where train and prairie meet.

I would recognise you... (jamieclaire - also longer line since the first were straight up book quotes): “I was dead. Everything around me was a blinding white. And there was a soft rushing sound like the wings of angels. I felt peaceful. And bodiless. Free of terror. Free of rage. Filled with a quiet happiness.” A soft warmth brushed my hand.

Blood Pearl/Neamhnaid Fola (jamieclaire): Jamie played with the scratchy ruffles sewed to the cuffs of his sleeves, impatient.

Wild Rose (everlark): The blue sky stretches for miles, letting the heat sneak in and saturate the air with a clinginess that can only ever belong to the final long stretch of days of the summer season.

The Sassenach Faerie (jamieclaire): The sun had not yet peaked over the grey monoliths up on the hill.

Soup of Life (outlander fix-it): It was a veritable feast for a small creature such as him.

Chocolate, churros, princesses, and scarves (jamieclaire): “Claire, mo ghraidh, mo Sorcha, I love ye so verra much-” Jamie gulped, the bob of his throat catching Claire’s eyes. “Will ye-” 

roses love sunshine, violets love dew (everlark): In and out. In and out. The blond lashes steady me.

no one tagged me in this but i do feel like taking some hostages with me so if you fancy joining 🫶: @atelierlili @mollywog @thesweetnessofspring @rosegardeninwinter @thesunpersists @littlemarianah @unnamednarrator @notsocooljess @lara-frasers @liberalk1tsch @liusaidh-writing

[saltybenchday]

Guilty As Sin?

After a year apart Jamie and Claire Fraser are having marriage problems. Thankfully, Dr. Grey is there to help. Which is great. Until Jamie develops a crush on the therapist, leading to a series of very bad (but very sexy) decisions that could ruin the Fraser's marriage forever. Or, just maybe, the three of them will find a way to make it work against all odds and end up happier than ever.

chapter 1: someone told me there’s no such thing as bad thoughts 

The office struck Jamie as having been designed by some kind of 18th century aristocrat. The decor consisted of a massive antique globe, two large wingback leather chairs and a sofa, floor to ceiling bookshelves, and several works of art that seemed like they should be in a museum somewhere. It was welcoming, he supposed, if a bit pretentious.  Claire had chosen this particular clinic after much research, insisting that they try therapy for a few months before giving up entirely. He wasn’t going to argue, after all he was the one who wanted to stay married. Even if Claire wouldn’t touch him. Even if he’d come home to find his wife on the living room floor, straddling another man.

keep reading 

[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...

[samsheughan]

WIP Wednesday

I think I should be doing this so that I keep myself accountable for writing on a regular basis. It is my dream, after all, to become a full time published author 😊

Exceprt from Sutures Ch. 9: Rumors, Part 2 [SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVEN'T READ CH 8]

Alice put on what Jamie could only describe as a “thinking face.” After a few seconds, she answered, “oh aye! He kept saying something about horrible headaches and gripping pains in the belly. He would be sitting at the supper table and seem to struggle with holding a fork, as if he’d never been civilized before!” Jamie was watching both Alice as she talked, and Claire as she listened. He watched Claire’s face change with some kind of revelation the more Alice went on about Obediah’s last days on earth. “What could all this mean?” Alice finished with a heartbreaking sob, and Jamie fished a wee square out of his pocket to hand to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose before trying to give it back to him. He waved a hand in refusal, indicating that she was welcome to keep it.

No pressure tags for exposure: @walkinginland, @islayandlochs, @ladyjane-lj, @bat-cat-reader, @gotham-ruaidh, @theawkwardterrier, @christiwhitson, @frasers-of-my-heart and anyone else who wants to participate or reblog to spread the word :D i love you guys <3

[frasers-of-my-heart]

From First to Home

Chapter 14: Batter Up

In that space between sleep and waking, Jamie pulled Claire even closer to his body; her back curled into his abdomen, her round bottom nestled perfectly into his lap. He breathed in, letting her scent wake him a bit more and remind him that she was really there. He palmed her breast gently, tentatively, as he felt her stir. She arched into the feel of him, sighing sleepily. Jamie whispered into her neck, “good morning, Sassenach.” He felt her jaw pull upwards against his cheek as she smiled before turning to face him. “Good morning, Red.”

“I like this on you,” Jamie tugged at the shirt she had slept in. Seeing Fraser printed on her back appealed to something primal within him, and he didn’t mind it.

“Me too, I may just have to steal it,” she winked at him.

Read the rest here ❤️💙❤️

[smashing-teacups]

Thankless: Of Ruined Holidays and Changing Hearts

Canon-compliant, showverse, missing scene(s). Oneshot.

Thanksgiving 1960 and 1772 - Frank's POV, then Jamie's.

Two very different husbands, two very different family dynamics, the same unexpected wrench in the holiday plans.

1960 - Boston, Massachusetts

The phone rang just as Brianna was setting the table.

I shot Claire a warning look that went completely unheeded as she shouldered past me in a swish of silk and clacking heels. The instinct to call after her still rose to my lips after all these years; the knowledge that the breath would be wasted kept it there.

“Hello, this is Doctor Randall…”

Our daughter froze instantly, the last salad fork hovering inches over the placemat. 

“How many? Nancy, slow down. How many wounded?”

Just like that, I watched the light drain from my twelve year old’s face. She masked it well, brave girl; unlike her mother, she had a talented poker face. Quietly and without fanfare, Brianna took the cutlery, plate and wine glass from the third place setting and returned them to the china cabinet.

I crossed the room slowly and laid a hand on her shoulder, heavy with unspoken understanding. It wasn’t the first holiday her mother had ruined with her selfishness, her pigheaded insistence upon putting career over family. Bree flashed me a wan smile and reached up to squeeze my fingers appreciatively.

“More mashed potatoes for us, huh?” She tried for levity, and would have pulled it off had she been trying to fool anyone but me.

“We won’t leave a single bite,” I promised sotto vocce.

Drawing in a breath through her nose and releasing it in a sharp sigh, Bree clasped her hands together as she turned back to the table. “Shall we? Or do we wait for her to come back in and—”

“Darling, I’m so sorry…” Right on cue, Claire appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, already slinging her purse over one shoulder, the car keys jangling in her opposite hand. “There’s been a terrible accident on the Longfellow Bridge—”

“Yeah, I’m sure there was. It’s always something, right?” Even I was surprised by the venom in Bree’s voice; day by day, the little girl eager to defend her mother’s choices was yielding to the dark cynicism of an adolescent. Normally, I would have chided her for taking a tone — it was unbecoming of a young lady — but I couldn’t deny that a part of me had been anticipating the day when Brianna finally learned to stand up for herself. It had been far too long that she’d dutifully shouldered the burden of her mother’s negligence. 

Wounded, wide, golden eyes blinked twice before Claire took a half-step forward. “I understand,” she said with a physician’s practiced calm, “that it’s disappointing when I’m called away on the holidays. Trust me, this isn’t how I wanted to spend my Thanksgiving either.”

“So why are you?!” our daughter demanded, throwing her hands up and letting them flop back at her sides. “Why does it always have to be you? Why can’t the other surgeons take the call this time?”

Keep reading...

[ladyviolethummingbird]

The Gloaming

An Outlander/Jane Eyre crossover

Catch up on chapters 1-9 here

Chapter 10: From Afar

Head full of thoughts of Claire, Jamie wound his way along darkened corridors towards his bedchamber. Within him there was a lightness; the weightless and floating kind that made his feet feel as though they were barely touching the ground as he walked. At the same time there was a heaviness; pressure on his chest like he could scarcely draw breath from how all-encompassing his feelings were. Having never been in love before, he had no idea if it was normal to feel so jumbled up inside, so instead settled for replaying the evening he had just spent with Claire and recalling with pleasure just how beautiful she’d looked in the light of the fading fire.

Having not paid much heed to the direction he was taking, Jamie unexpectedly found himself at the foot of the stairs where Claire had fallen. Despite bone aching tiredness, a niggling feeling propelled him to crouch down and take a closer look; something about a graceful and surefooted woman stumbling on steps she’d descended hundreds of times just wasn’t adding up. Sweeping his hands over the smooth wood he anticipated finding a loose board or nail to account for it, but squinting at the dimly lit staircase he detected nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly his fingertips slid into a cold liquid. Startled by the unpleasant sensation, he yanked his hands back, hurriedly glancing around for the source. With nothing appearing out of place, all he could think to account for it was rain, perhaps from a window blowing open during the storm, however a quick check showed all those nearby fastened shut. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for the wet stairs but a feeling in Jamie’s wame told him otherwise, and with a shiver he pulled the shawl he wore a little tighter around himself. He was still wracking his brains to determine the cause of the dampness when the smell hit him; such distinctive odour he wondered how he could have missed it earlier. Spicy, fruity and not quite sweet, it was unmistakably brandy.

He rubbed his eyes trying to think, Claire’s voice floating into his head “The smell alone makes me gag”…“I must’ve misjudged a step”… “No need to wake anyone else”… It was all connected he knew, only he couldn’t see through the fog in his brain to work out how. As the questions swirled, Jamie felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, as though he was being watched. Standing to his full height he cast his eyes out into the semi-darkness; searching but not entirely sure he wanted to find anything. From behind him a floorboard creaked and he whirled around, body tensing. The scape of feet followed…

Continue reading…

[matthewkniesys]

the beginning - trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras x famous singer!reader (gracie abrams face claim)

a/n: so this is the first ig edit in the new trevor dating a famous singer au. i'm so excited for this and it will probably eventually have some fics too. i also will drag out the fans learning that trevor and y/n are together lol. just so yall know you and beabadoobee are best friends in this au and if you don't know her ig handle is @/radvxz. gracie abrams is the face claim and her music is your discography. hope you like it 🫶

au navigation

yourusernameofficial

Liked by @/ radvxz, jamie.drysdale, oliviarodrigo and 400 897 others

yourusernameofficial - had the most time with you guys at gillette stadium night 2!! going on this tour has been such a crazy experience and i can't believe it thank you so much🫶

View Top Comments

taylorswift - 🥰

radvxz - my best friend is living her best life

↳ yourusernameofficial - with you of course

↳ radvxz - forever and always💞

fanaccount6 - ilysm y/n

↳ yourusernameofficial - 🥰🫶

oliviarodrigo - so pretty

↳ yourusernameofficial - like you

fanaccount3 - why did jamie drysdale like??? wtf i'm so confused i think maybe they're dating

↳ y/nupdatess - idk that doesn't really make sense

trevorzegras

Liked by @/ jamie.drysdale, anaheimducks, masonmctavish23 and 11 784 others

trevorzegras - saw 2 pretty special people at gillette stadium night 2...bet you won't guess who

tagged: @/ jamie.drysdale & taylorswift

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jamie.drysdale - as if me and z wouldn't go to the tour

↳ trevorzegras - we had no choice...

↳ jamie.drysdale - it would've been wrong

masonmctavish23 - of course they wouldn't think to invite me

↳ trevorzegras - no we wouldn't...we aren't sorry mas

↳ masonmctavish23 - and to think these are my two best friends

fanaccount3 - it says 2 special people so maybe they mean y/n cause jamie is dating her 👀 @/ y/nupdatess

↳ y/nupdatess - i mean maybe??? but also like idk i just can't see it...i can definitely picture her with trevor though

thanks for reading🫶

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues @corneliaskates

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[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]

[lara-frasers]

Faith finds us

Here's chapter 2: A birthday takes place

Are you ready for clown!Jamie? 😂

You can read it here

And you can follow me on twitter here

[elephantlovemedleys]

thinking abt girldad jamie fraser

[saltybenchday]

Coming soon!

Guilty as Sin?

Jamie and Claire Fraser are having marriage problems. Thankfully, Dr. Grey is there to help.

This messy, slutty little modern AU is full of strange crushes, bad 80s dance remixes, and not one ounce of self control anywhere in sight.

[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

[walkinginland]

when my time comes around

five times Jamie Fraser nearly dies, and one time he does canon-compliant 5+1 for Outlander part of my hozier song fics series; this one's based around "Work Song" aka the most JamieClaire song ever written.

one

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

Jamie Fraser is almost twenty years old the first time he truly comes near to death. Now, there had been no shortage of foolish boyhood accidents, and the illness that took his brother from him had not left him unscathed. But he is almost twenty years old, barely more than a child, the first time that he stares into that darkness, and feels it staring back.

The last few days have been a blur interspersed with sharp moments of startling, scarring clarity. Anger and shame and hurt and fear. He can’t comprehend how he had gone from pitching hay in Lallybroch’s fields to laying in a prison cell with his back flayed open and a burning infection creeping up his spine and into his limbs.

The fort physician has been kind, at least. Had let him cry, had set his hand gently on his shoulder, and done what little he could for Jamie’s shredded back. He had offered water and a bit of bread, said that it was important for him to keep his strength up. Jamie had taken some water, shook his head at the bread. He can’t imagine holding anything in his stomach when his whole body feels so hollow, carved out as cleanly as a hunted animal.

The physician’s best hadn’t been enough to prevent infection or erase the memory of the last time he saw his sister’s face, but it was something. He had handed him a worn out book, a worn-thin Bible with the smudged ink of fear-dampened hands.

“Here you are, lad. This belonged to another prisoner, but I reckon he knows the truth of it now better than any of us here do. Mayhap it’ll bring you some comfort.”

Jamie lays on his stomach on a creaking cot in a prison cell, trying to calm his spinning mind any way he can. He blinks at the tiny print of the Bible from an awkward angle, head tilted to the side and book resting on the edge of the cot, and tries to turn a page without pulling the muscles in his back. He had had no idea that the tips of his fingers were connected to the back of his shoulder in such an intimate way, but he is learning it now with every twitch in his hand.

He's not sure he is actually reading any of the words in front of him, couldn’t tell you which book or passage he has open before him. He could do without the chastisement of Saint Paul. Perhaps one of the Prophets, calling out doom and hope in the same breath. It feels fitting, somehow.

He steers far away from the whipping of Christ. Some things feel far different from a prison cell than they do in the pews in kirk of a Sunday.

His fingertips feel numb and the words in front of him blur, from tears or exhaustion or just the poor typeset and smeared lettering, he can’t tell.

The fingerprints and tear tracks that lived on these pages long before he opened them won’t judge him for the drops that find their way out of the corners of his eyes.

keep reading on ao3