outlander au fanfiction

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Brujerìa: Ch.6 - “The Healer” 

a/n: Claire heals Jamie (but what else is new?) and reveals him the truth about who she is! Thanks to @curlsgetdemgurls for the beta and to everyone who reads this story and takes two seconds to tell me what they think about it, thank you! It means a lot to me so please never stop  <3 

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4  - Chapter 5 


Previously 

Claire woke up to the sound of a glass breaking, followed by a Gaelic curse. She wasn’t home – that much she knew – and she wasn’t in a bed, either. Wrapped in a thick plaid, and curled up on the large sofa, she could hear the fireplace crackling and the kettle boiling.

She hated the moments she woke up because all her senses were multiplied and it always took a few minutes to adjust. Her head was pounding – full of the previous day’s revelations and what happened at the pub – but her lips tasted of Jamie’s and that simple fact made it all better.

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Forget Me Not - Chapter 1: It Starts With Goodbye

It’s finally here - The first chapter of Forget Me Not!  I’m so excited for this new modern AU that came to me while I was putting together a flower arrangement.  As part of my #wordvomitweek, this is un-betaed, un-edited word vomit so please be kind.  Also special thanks to @jules-fraser and @sassenachwaffles who have championed and cheered this idea from the very beginning - you two are the absolute best. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: It Starts With Goodbye

Warm mug of tea in hand, Claire Beauchamp descended the staircase that divided her flat from her charming florist shop below.  She would open the store in approximately twenty minutes, but for now, the front door remained firmly locked, the “We’re Closed - Get Clover It” sign dangling in the front window. 

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Back To You, Part 2 - 1

These babies are back, and we are picking up their story just over a year after Back To You ended. I am hoping to get back to a Saturday posting schedule, but figured I would go ahead and get this out today since we’ll have a lot of Outlander goodies this weekend. I’ll be writing some ficlets at the same time, so please bear with me as I try to work on multiple parts of this universe at the same time! As always, thank you for your support, it means the world to me!

For the first time she could remember, Claire didn’t know how to talk to Jamie.

Even when they first met, when every moment between them (text, talk, or touch) felt like it was something that only they could know about (a secret just for them), words had never failed her. She never worried about his reaction to what she had to say, never worried that she would somehow push him away from her by sharing too much. Opening up to him was as easy as breathing; a lifeline necessary for her very survival. They were connected, irrevocably so, some type of pre-determined kismet existing between the two of them that meant they would never be parted, no matter what life threw their way.

Once they had finally gotten together, there was no topic they couldn’t (or wouldn’t) broach. Everything from political and religious affiliation to how they would divide up household chores to Star Wars vs. Star Trek (Jamie switching his allegiance to the former after their first Halloween together) had become a regular part of their conversations. Even Uncle Lamb’s very vocal affinity for England’s national rugby team over Scotland’s when he came to visit had never been a source of contention.

But she had noticed over the last few months that there was one thing Jamie was no longer interested in talking about: his family.

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Fanfiction - Scalpel & Needle II (Finale)

“…I still would make the same choice”. This story was a labour of love. Mine, to this vision I so wanted to write. Yours, to me. To the ones who saw something in this and stayed until the end, slàinte mhath. To the ones who had to leave at some point because they didn’t identify with it any longer, slàinte mhath. To the ones who engaged in respectful dialogue and conversation, slàinte mhath.

Every single one of you is in my heart, but three people held me together. @xlisaleinx, my champion and friend and the only person who knew ALL OF IT. @notoversc who sees through me. @missclairebelle spectacular hand-holder and rant-master and a hell of an example in the writing department. Love, always.

Scalpel & Needle (Arc I: Incision), Previously

Scalpel & Needle II

Part XIII – Suture

Surgery together. It was like making love.

His hands, her hands, working in such closeness to achieve a common goal – not completion of their bodies, but wholeness to another. The way they communicated without words, with simple glances above the rim of their masks and subtle movements of half-curved fingers.

In the operating theatre they saw each other for what they really were; and on the nights following days of shared work, they would always seek one another with renewed desire. Certainty. You and I are the same. You love me as I need to be loved.

Claire remembered those moments with longing, flashes of dirtied scrubs and bloody gloves, interspersed with fragments of a walk in the park or a new book under the shelter of fresh sheets – kids in a tent, the moon outside so close, those centimetres of tangled bodies theirs alone.

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I’ll be there for you, Chapter 17 (previously)

A/N: Folks, this is it. The final chapter of IBTFY. It’s been a long, slow, ride for these two. And it’s ending on nothing but a good time. Thank you for every kind word, like, kudos, DM, ask and reblog you’ve given this fic. It means more than you’ll know. 

The biggest of biggest thank you’s to @kkruml and @missclairebelle who fix every wrong, make it right, and give me something substantial to post. They’re the real magic workers BTS of this fic and I literally could not have done it without them.

To @jules-fraser and @thefraserwitch thank you for the constant encouragment.

And the biggest thank you for this fic has to go to @balfeheughlywed, for without her text post I don’t even know how many months back, this fic wouldn’t even be here. 

One Month Later
Claire

I found it funny how while to any passerby who came through our apartment nothing had changed .We still had the black couch. The coffee table still had a dent in it from a game night six months past where John had inevitably drunkenly fallen and hit his head causing me to do my first ‘at home’ stitches with nothing but the unfinished vodka handle to clean out the wound and no localized anesthesia for the poor man

The kitchen still had a few broken tiles that needed to get fixed from where Jamie punched the wall. The floor still had some stains from a spot where I left a cold beer too long.

So while nothing had seemingly changed, everything too had also changed.

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Loss (Act II), Part Six

Many thanks to @kalendraashtar​ for being such a great source of encouragement on this part and for gut checking me (don’t blame her for any of my non-medical brain slip ups; she’s an innocent bystander and will be deleting me soon if I keep it up) and to @kkruml​ who is always in my corner. 💕

Here is the song that was on repeat while I wrote this one –– Lord Huron, When the Night is Over.


Loss: Act I and ficlets

Loss: Act II: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five


Loss: Act II
Part Six

CPR is nothing like what is shown on television or in films.  

Done properly, the chest recoils under hands and blood rushes into the heart’s chambers.

The shallow, massaging and kneading of most fictional attempts at resuscitation accomplish, quite literally, nothing.

It takes muscle to save a life.

It takes grit to bear down. (Five centimeters into a chest again and again –– one hundred to one hundred and twenty times per minute.)

It is a violent act, digging deep enough to force life back into a body that is failing, willing itself to die and trying to quit forever.  

The echoes under hand of a breastbone cracking or of ribs giving way beneath compressions are wrenching.  But the gut reaction to pull back at the rush of nausea at the sound and feel of it is drowned out by the desire for a patient to live, live, live.  

Put bluntly, despite the number of bones I had broken in a career of forcing life back into someone’s chest, I had never received complaints afterwards.  

No one ever said to me that life itself just wasn’t worth that kind of pain.

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Fanfiction - Scalpel & Needle II

I told @xlisaleinx that I was looking for happiness for Scalpel and Needle. She told me to take them to the Highlands. So I did. Couldn’t have done it this far without you, darling.

Scalpel & Needle (Arc I: Incision), Previously

Scalpel & Needle II

Part IX – Portree

Happy Birthday, Beauchamp.” A low rumble sounded strangely close to Claire’s ear, swiftly followed by a small nip in her earlobe. She grunted and rolled on her side, pulling the sheet around her bare shoulders.

“Why are you awake?” Claire babbled, opening her eyes just enough to confirm that the room was still immersed in the long shadows that preceded dawn. From the other extremity of the bed, close to her feet, came the soft and reassuring purr of a satisfied and deeply asleep Adso. “Not even our cat is up yet.”

“Oh, is he ours then?” Jamie’s fingers, gently drawing circles on her ribcage underneath the covers, moved to tickle her just below her armpits. “I thought just yesterday he was “my overbearing cat”.”

“When there is cat vomit all over your shoes, then you can say whatever you want.” Claire explained in a sleepy voice, trying to ignore the very interesting way in which Jamie’s fingers were becoming more daring around her hipbones. “Now hush, Fraser, and go back to sleep.”

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I’ll be there for you, Chapter 16 (previously)

A/N: After I post this, I am running off and hiding in a corner. This is NSFW. You were warned. And to @missclairebelle and @kkruml who literally held my hand through this whooooooooole chapter (and the reason it makes sense…) and fic. I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. I hope the slow burn has been worth the wait. One more chapter, and this arc is finished.

And to @thefraserwitch and @jules-fraser- thank you for your unceasing encouragement.

For so long I had been so many things to so many different people.

I was Claire Beauchamp growing up, I was Claire the medical student, and I was Dr. Beauchamp the resident. I had lived in different homes and places, never somewhere long enough I felt like I had left my mark, though the places had left a mark on me.

But the physical structure I had called a home the last few years—I had shared it with Jamie it became home. A place where I wanted to firmly plant some roots, continue to live and grow. Moreover I had learned home wasn’t defined by four walls, a bed, a kitchen, and a roof. Home is a living breathing person- it is the person who you want to go to bed looking at and the first person you want to see when you wake up.  

James Fraser was my home- and I had almost let him go.  The thought sobered me for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. The realization that he was all I had ever wanted and hoped for, almost too good to be true.

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An interruption in the 1st law of thermodynamics.

Previously, Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35

@theministerskat, thank you for being my awesome beta for this story!!


Chapter 36. Almond and Cherries


Spring break.

My last spring break as a teenager. The one in which my suspicion that adults can be just as ridiculous as teenagers was confirmed. And that they’re especially ridiculous when they think themselves funny.

Another silly bit of knowledge I also learned overt spring break was that adults - particularly my uncle - find young love adorable. And because of that, they think it’s quite funny to tease young lovers about it.

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Loss, Part Eleven (The End)

This last part of Loss is hopefully a love letter to everyone who has commented, liked, reblogged, messaged me, or shown love to this story. I owe you all so much. This story started with a small world in my mind and has grown and grown. Writing it has been an act of love –– largely finding my love for creative writing again and bringing me some wonderful friendships. 

I am a little bit weepy as I write this note on the final part. (CHEESEBALL ALERT.)

There are so many people who deserve my thanks, but @kkruml​ is at the top of the list.  She’s read this and other parts/ficlets so many times, given me so much encouragement, fixed so much mess, and offered so much thoughtful insight. I owe her large parts of this because she kept me going. I also owe @smoakingwaffles​ a major debt of gratitude for being my fandom sounding board and putting up with me ceaselessly. And finally, @gotham-ruaidh​ who literally helped me open myself to being a part of this community those few short months ago and being my first OL pal.  I love you all.

This all seems so sappy and IS NOT me (for those of you who have had the misadventure of getting to know me). But it is so heartfelt.

Loss will be back –– more ficlets, another multi-part arc. But for now, here’s the final part of what kicked it off.  Signing off to have a drink and a taco. xx. K 💜


Part One: here. Part Two: here. Part Three: here. Part Four: here. Part Five: here. Part Six: here. Part Seven: here. Part Eight: here. Part Nine: here. Part Ten: here.


Loss (Modern AU)
Part Eleven

On Christmas Eve, I read Marianne’s obituary.

She was beautiful in the picture –– on a beach, grinning, holding a seashell to her ear, looking wistfully to the sky.  

It recounted the basics: her name and age (as if I could ever forget), her favorite sports (football, field hockey, swimming), her favorite band (a group I had never heard of that she saw six times with her friends), her time spent volunteering (an animal shelter), and broad statements about her goals (finish university, more field hockey, to become a botanist, to alleviate world hunger).

It was precisely the obituary one would expect for an untimely loss.

But then the last line, the one that surprised me:

The family would like to extend its gratitude to the doctors, nurses, and staff at the Edinburgh Medical Center for the compassion and care that they showed Marianne.  

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Back To You - 8

Thank you SO much for all the comments, likes, reblogs, and messages you sent to me about the last chapter. This chapter starts off slightly NSFW again.

ICYMI:
Back To You - mood board
Back To You - 1 (took you like a shot)
Back To You - 2 (thought that i could chase you with a cold evening)
Back To You - 3 (and every time we talk, every single word builds up to this moment)
Back To You - 4 (i want to hold you when i’m not supposed to)
Back To You - 5 (you’re stuck in my head and i can’t get you out of it)
Back To You - 6 (you know my thoughts are running loose, it’s just a thing you make me do)
Back To You - 7 (and i could fight, but what’s the use?)

Claire woke the next morning, limbs and heart tangled around Jamie, her head nestled against his chest. His arms were wrapped securely around her, one large hand beginning to stroke up and down her naked back as she stirred. She let out a contented sigh before pressing her lips against his chest, his skin warm and firm beneath her.

He kissed the top of her head, snuggling both of them further underneath the covers. The hand that had been innocently trailing along her spine continued its exploration south, landing on the round of her ass. She raised her head to look at him, chin resting on his chest. The hint of a smirk was on his face, his eyes still closed.

“Your hand is on my ass,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as she tried to hide a smile.

He popped one eye open to look at her before shutting it again. “Aye,” he said, his hand rubbing over her bottom, smirk widening, “I told ye this arse was made for my hands. I’m just holding on to what’s mine.”

“Yours, huh? Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” he smiled, burrowing his head deeper into the pillow.

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Fanfiction - Scalpel & Needle II

Scalpel & Needle (Arc I: Incision), Previously

Scalpel & Needle II

Part X – Skylight

Claire breathed slowly, in and out, forcing herself to reign in her frustration. It was pouring, a waterfall forming on every window, droplets patient enough to turn into rivers. She remembered a different day then, when droplets cascaded over his body, and - oh – how she had wished to drown in him.

“You’ll freeze to death!” Claire admonished Jamie, laughing. They stood on the edge of Loch Leathan, after spending the morning climbing The Storr, and the male surgeon had started to peel off items of clothing.

Sitting there on the summit, amongst the mist of Scotland as if they were part of its fabric themselves, ignoring a time that had been too lazy to call on them. Jamie’s hands had been uncannily hot, even under the light drizzle of Scotland’s temperamental weather, and they had been enfolding hers for a long time. They enjoyed the breathtaking scenery and talked in a hushed tone, as if not to disturb the inhabitants of such a magical place. There, in the wild that was part of him, Jamie had finally told her the story about his stabbing in Syria.

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I’ll be there for you AU, Chapter 8 (previously)

A/N: I know it’s been a while, but thanks for hanging in there. @kkruml​ and @missclairebelle​ somehow you haven’t deleted me or my ideas- thanks for doing what you do.


I felt his hand squeeze mine lightly as I opened the door and got out of the car.

“Promise me you’ll think about it?” Frank asked. I smiled at him softly, and nodded.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, I will talk to you later.” I closed the door and made my way up to the apartment.

I slid my key into the lock and the knob turned freely. “James…” I groaned as I entered the apartment and took off my heels. “You left the damn door unlocked again.”

I locked the door and turned the hallway light on as a small moan came from the couch. “If you’re having a lady friend over… Say the word, I will escape to my bedroom.”

I laughed at my own comment as I started to walk on my tiptoes to my bedroom, but was stopped as I heard another low groan. The doctor in me halted… That wasn’t a groan of pleasure; it was a groan of pain. I turned shuffling on hasty feet to the couch.

“Alright. You win…. Scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” I kneeled on the floor as I pushed a stray curl off his sweaty forehead. “And you bloody Scot, why didn’t you text me earlier?”

“Sassenach.” Jamie groaned through his teeth.

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Brujerìa: Ch.4 - “The Truth”

a/n:  Happy Sunday! Enjoy the new chapter and next one will drop on Thursday <3 As usual, thanks to @curlsgetdemgurls for being the best beta but for also screaming at me when I have doubts about my writing. 

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3


Previously 

The apartment looked like a cabinet of curiosities, with stuffed animals on a chest of drawers, shelves full of books and mismatched rococo pieces of furniture. The walls were emerald green to match the velvet sofa and the wooden floor was hidden by countless rugs.

“What do ye mean I’m a warlock?” Jamie frowned – the man made no sense and every word coming out of his mouth sounded like it belonged to another language. After his confession to Claire, she had told him to follow her to see an old family friend who could help them and that’s how he now found himself sitting on an old leather chair, staring at Raymond – 5ft tall, eccentric, and very French.

“You never knew that?” Raymond’s eyebrow rose, suspicious at the scot’s surprise. “How on earth did you not know that?”

“I dinna ken, nothin’ unusual happened to me…at least not until I met Claire,” Jamie said sincerely.

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Loss Ficlet: & forever

In which Loss Jamie & Claire get hitched.

I owe an entire world of thanks to a few people for getting this up off of the ground.  First, to @kkruml who was the first one to read this and helped me get comfortable with it. This was a bit of a lift, but I’m so totally here now for Loss J&C’s big day. Second, to @balfeheughlywed who was such a doll when I more or less forced her to create this insanely beautiful moodboard. It is like she plucked what I was thinking from my head even where I did not spend a significant number of words explaining. ILY both for everything you’ve dumped into this x 10,000,000. 💜 Finally, to folks who have been reading along, liking/commenting/reblogging, and sending me asks, falling in love with Loss J&C with me: I never thought we’d get here. And I love it. xx.

NSFW-ish –– a short portion of this at the end is wedding night & you can guess what happens.


& forever
June 2018

Although a Highlander in full regalia is always an impressive sight, it was not the sight of the tartan grazing the arches of Jamie’s knees at the end of the aisle that I would remember when thinking back on our wedding day.

It was the slight tremor in his hand, a flit of a wrist and tap on his thigh. 

It was the way his mouth twitched up at the corner and the ghost of words I could not make out on his lips.

It was the chorus of chairs scraping over stone as our guests stood. 

It was the rustle of dress clothes as they turned to look at me.  

It was the feeling of my peripheral vision fading away as I focused in on Jamie and only Jamie. He was not all I had, but he was everything that made the rest of what I had come alive in a way I had never known to want.

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This story is just something I wrote last night. I asked for suggestions for a new fic and I combined @wunderlichkind 56&70 Awful first meeting looked in a room with anon that sent 3&36 Modern Au text message/letter fic and I even managed to include @where-i-ll-remember-you-always trope 26. Massags fic 🙈

Hope you like it haha, let me know what you think ✨

Wrong Number 📱

- Chapter 1

Claire

John are you coming tonight? 🍺

+447267 3015

Who is this? New phone.

Claire

Haha John we are going to The Flying tiger, you owe me a beer.🍺😘

+447267 3015

Sorry lass, this isn’t John. 🙈

Claire

Oh my bad, wrong number.

“Claire, we need to go.” Her roommate Mary shouted.

“I know, just wait 5 minutes.” Claire shouted back and she put down her phone.

Claire was standing in her bathroom doing the final touch up on her makeup. Claire, her roommate Mary Hawkins and her best friend Joe Abernathy were going out to celebrate that Claire had quit her job, after spending 2 years working as a bartender she finally had enough and quit, she wanted to something else with her life. It was a little ironic that she would celebrate at the same bar she had worked on, but her colleagues had persuaded her to come. She wanted to invite John but she clearly didn’t have his number.

“Mary, do you have John’s number? Claire asked as she walked out the bathroom.

“Let me check.” Mary took up her phone and handed it to Claire. “I texted him and it was some random person who answered”

Claire looked at Mary’s phone and saw that John’s number was almost identical to the one she had texted, it was the last figure that was different.

“Let’s go already.” Mary said and started to walk towards the door. Claire took one last look in the mirror and they walked out of their apartment. The Flying tiger was close and it only took a few minutes for them to get there, Joe was waiting outside for them.

“How are you always late?” Joe said. Mary looked at him annoyed and Joe laughed when Mary blamed Claire.

They walked inside together and sat down at a little table in the corner. Her former colleague David was quick to serve them with a bottle of wine when they arrived and he refused to take Claire’s money when she wanted to pay for it , this was his farewell present.

Claire looked at her phone and saw that she had a text message. It was the same number she had texted earlier.

+447267 3015

Is it creepy that I wished I was John?

Claire

Yes.

“Who are you talking to?” Mary asked curiously.

“I don’t know”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Joe asked and tried to look at her screen.

“I thought I was texting John, I asked him to join us and then it turned out that I had the wrong number.” Claire answered and she got another text.

+447267 3015

What’s your name?

Claire

Who are you?

+447267 3015

Jamie.👋🏻

Claire

Well Jamie.. stopp texting me. I don’t like to talk to strangers.

+447267 3015

There! Now you know how I look AND my name, we aren’t strangers anymore. 😉

“Oh god. He sent me a picture.” Claire said and showed her friends. “Wow, he is HOT” Mary grabbed the phone and took a closer look.

“Not really my type.” Claire said nonchalant and took a sip of her wine. When she heard that she got another text, she had to admit she was curious if it was this Jamie person again, she looked at Mary who was obviously reading it.

“What are you doing?” She tried to take her phone back when she saw that Mary was texting someone.

+447267 3015

I’m sorry, I don’t usually behave like this, I just couldn’t get over how beautiful you are. I’ll stop.

Claire

It’s okey, me and my friends are out celebrating. Come join us. 🍺 The Flying Tiger. Can’t wait to meet you.

“Are you crazy Mary??” Why did you invite him??”

“He was cute…i thought it could be fun?” Mary said nervously as Claire looked angry at her.

“Then you can hang out with him.” Claire said. She got up from their table, walked over to the bar and sat down alone. She sighed when she got another text from Jamie.

+447267 3015

Really? Okey I know where it is, just need to take a shower. I’ll be there in 30. 🙈

The damage was already done. He was going to come. This is so awkward, she thought.

”You okey?” David asked.

”Yeah, just going to spend the evening with a complete stranger.”

”Sounds interesting..” he answered and laughed.

”Not really..”

”Stop being such a sourdough, this is supposed to be a fun night, I have one hour left and then I’m going to join you guys.”

”Sourdough? Who says that?” Claire looked at David and laughed. He had always been Claire favorite, they usually had the same shifts and David could always put a smile on her face when she was feeling down.

”Who is this stranger?”

”Not sure. I just know that his name is Jamie, He sent a picture of himself all sweaty, flexing his muscles standing in the gym. Probably a protein-drinking douch.” Claire complained.

Approximately two hours later and no Jamie, she was kind of surprised that he didn’t show but still felt relieved, the whole thing was so strange anyway. They had a really nice evening, David joined them when his shift ended and the rest of the staff joined them later on as well when the pub closed. It was the perfect ending.

Jamie never texted her after that night.

Two weeks later and Claire still hadn’t found a new job, she applied for multiple jobs but but nobody wanted to hire her, she was thinking about starting to work at The Flying Tiger again.

Claire was late for her massage appointment, she was so damn late. After spending these weeks unemployed, Mary had been a sweetheart and got her a gift card at a this place called Lallybroch Spa.

Unfortunately she overslept that morning, then she accidentally got on the wrong train and needed to take a cab, This wasn’t her day at all but she needed this massage more then ever. Her back was aching more the usually.

When Claire finally arrived to Lallybroch Spa the receptionist told her that the masseur was running late, but she told her that she could undress and wait in the room until he got there.

Claire felt nervous as she walked into the room, she had never had a man massaging her before. She took her clothes off and laid down on the massage table. She wore nothing but her panties and a towel leaving her naked back exposed. A small knock on the door and someone came into the room.

“So sorry I’m late.” The man had a Scottish accent and she was just about to raise her head when he kindly told her to stay down. “Let’s begin aye?”

“Oh.. okey.” Claire answered a bit nervously and put her head back down in the headrest.

“Is there any special area ye want me to focus on?”

“Um.. I was in a accident a few years ago, so maybe go easy on my back.” With her head down she couldn’t see his face, but she could see his feets through the hole.

She really didn’t have any expectations but was pleasantly surprised that he had such a gentle touch, he started with her feets and she felt how she slowly started to relax. The music he had put on was new to her but she actually like it even though she didn’t understand the lyrics.

“May I ask what kind of accident it was?” The masseur asked.

“Car accident..” it came out lower then she had intended but she preferred not to talk about it. As he moved from her legs towards her back he changed the subject, he clearly understood it wasn’t something she wanted talk about.

She could feel that this man had strong, big hands without seeing them, and he was the best god damn masseur she had experienced. She didn’t have any scars on her back but it was as he could see where her pain was.

“Is this okey?” He asked and pressed carefully on her back. Claire was fully recovered from her accident but as he pressed on that particular spot she felt lighter. She was so used to her back pain that she gasped.

“Did I hurt ye?” He asked worried and took his hands away.

“No no, the other way around actually.. I have never felt better.”

He placed his hands on her back again and did the same slow movements he did just minutes ago. Claire closed her eyes and almost wanted to cry of joy, she had seen so many doctors, physical therapists over the years and no one had accomplished what this man had.

A little bell started to ring and Claire opened her eyes. “Okey, we are done. I’ll let ye get dressed and then I’ll come back in 5 minutes” he said and she waited until she heard him close the door. As she stood up she moved her shoulders, checking to see if the pain was coming back, but she had never felt better. Claire put on her clothes then her shoes and she waited.

Claire stood with her back towards to the door. She really wanted to thank this miracle man. As she heard the door open, she smiled and turned around. The extremely tall red-headed man that walked through the door seemed familiar.

Oh my god.. Jamie

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Oxford Tales: Ch.9 - “The Courthouse” 

a/n: Well folks, we’re slowly finishing this story. This will be the last chapter before the epilogue next week, hope you’ll love it <3 

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 


Claire felt like she was walking on a cloud ever since her engagement – so much so, she didn’t even dread going back to work to eventually see John or Frank in the halls. Jamie on the other hand… he had different feelings towards John. Not to say that Claire wasn’t still furious with John, but she felt at peace as if finally the universe was working in her favour.

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I’ll be there for you, Chapter 15 (previously)

2 more chapters and this will be finished- I can’t believe we’re on the tail end of this ride. Thank you for every like, reblog, comment, and DM. You guys are the best.

And to @kkruml and @missclairebelle - you’re the reason the post button gets pressed. At this point thank you doesn’t even suffice.

One Week Later
Jamie

Of all the things he had learned about Claire Beauchamp: when the woman set her mind to something, her mind was set and there was no changing it.

It had been a week since he had least heard from her.

I hope you have a nice life.

The words were etched into the back of his eyelids. They were the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about when he fell asleep at night. He also knew what ‘marshmallow’ meant –he couldn’t push her or she’d never come around. She’d not given any inclination as to why she needed her space.

Was it something he had done? Was it something she had done herself, and couldn’t face him? Why was she closing him out? Now, of all times, when he wanted her the closest to him- why was this the furthest she’d ever been?

His heart hurt. Anatomically he had learned from his favorite doctor that a human heart could not exactly break- but emotionally, now that was a different story.

Claire had been the woman who had sutured his broken heart together more than once- and the only woman to repair it now. But she was also the woman who had crumbled his heart into a million pieces.

It’s ironic how life works sometimes, isn’t it?

It was cold in the streets of Edinburgh and he clutched his jacket tight across his body, watching her pace through the bedroom.

It had been 7 days, 168 hours, 10080 minutes since he had last heard her voice.  He reached in his pocket and open the flask, taking a sip of whisky, and the first steps towards repairing whatever it was that was broken.

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Brujerìa: Chapter 2 - “Attraction” 

a/n: As promised, Witch!Claire is back today instead of Sunday because of NYCC. Thanks to @curlsgetdemgurls as usual because she’s not only my beta, she also keep up with me and @thefraserwitch.
I hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think! 

Prologue - Chapter 1 


Previously 

Claire had lived with nightmares all her life – or at least, as long as she could remember. She dreaded the moments she had to go to bed and succumb to slumber because more times than not, she would wake up in a trance and completely panicked. She had tried Raymond’s remedies, Valeriana Officinalis combined with a touch of Humulus Lupulus, but even that was not much help. It wasn’t what she could see that distressed her so much – blurred images, abstract colours –  it was what she could hear and what she could feel. The high pitched screams that wouldn’t stop. No matter how much she begged, or tried to wake up, the sensation of her limbs being pulled apart was too strong to escape.

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Loss Ficlet: Shed

Many thanks to @kkruml​ for listening to me whine, making sure things I write make sense (and if they don’t, I take the blame), and helping me puzzle out questions of flow. She’s my not-so-secret weapon.


Loss (Modern AU)
Shed

April 2018

We became accidental homeowners just six weeks before our wedding.

The Chief of Orthopedic Surgery was moving to Paris and wanted to get rid of his beautiful terraced villa. It was a quiet tan thing, unassuming from the outside at the end of a sleepy grove of flowering trees and surrounded by gardens. Upon learning the news, I ran to Jamie’s office in the rain. Clad in scrubs covered in god-knows-what and my trench coat suspended over my head, I had rehearsed an entire sales pitch.

By the time I arrived –– sopping wet, water-logged, pink, and panting –– I was breathless.  The last time I had shown up unannounced and wearing a trench coat (and literally nothing else save lace), he had made love to me on his desk until my brain fogged and my knees went wobbly.

I breezed past his assistant, a very pert and annoyed-looking Laoghaire, and pushed into his office.  Jamie was sitting at his desk with his feet up, a pen caught between his teeth. He slipped off his glasses and dropped his pen. (The glasses were new and hardly ever made an appearance at home. They had come up by necessity shortly after Christmas when I found him squinting at the newspaper one Sunday morning. In the beginning I teased him about his age and failing eyesight. But the first time I saw him in the tortoiseshell frames at the optometrist I permanently shut my mouth.)

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