#jamie fraser x female reader

[saturnville]

nightmare

45. “I had a nightmare about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

author’s note: this was a part two that i never realized could be a part two until someone inboxed me and asked for a continuation of “the soldier’s lady.” this sat in my drafts for two years. so thank you to the supporter whose message encouraged me to finish it 🫶🏾 @queen-dk

Alone he was. Alone, frozen, starved, and afraid. Lost between the beautiful, green mazes. Surrounded by thick stumps covered in damp moss, assaulted by crawlers at every direction, destroyed by his enemies.

Voice too coarse, too far gone to utter even a prayer to the Master he served. His hand, covered in blood and gashes filled with dirt and debris, clasped around his throat. His dry lips parted and nothing more than a small gasp dribbled out.

He cleared his throat. A sandpaper-like substance shimmied along the sides of his throat. He spat it out on a pile of crushed leaves and opened his mouth once more, managing to call out. He was greeted with silence.

Painfully, he scrambled to his feet. A string of obscenities passed his lips. His hands patted his waist in search for his sword. He only felt the tattered fabric of his kilt. Through blurred vision, he searched around, circling himself for his sacred weapon.

Loudly, he cried out again. He was answered with the rustling of the leaves and the clapping of a dangerous thunder. His chest heaved as he looked around, stumbling in every which direction.

Alone, he was. Alone, frozen, starved, and afraid.

She awoke suddenly with a gasp. Thin lavender slip damp with sweat, soft skin heated from distress, she sat up slowly. Her eyes darted around the dark room, save for a beam of moonlight against her bed frame.

With a shaking hand, she brushed the stump of her hand across her forehead, sweeping away the perspiration that rested there.

Her non-dominant hand forced the warm covers off her body. Slowly, she swung her slender legs across the edge of the bed. They dangled, her heels jabbing the wooden frame.

A soft breath flew passed her dry lips. Her hands were a net for her head as she buried her face within her palms. Her cardiac muscle beat harder than wooden sticks against the tenor drums she saw a young boy playing weeks ago.

He was back home, yet subconsciously, she still worried for his well-being, for his safety. For almost two weeks, he’d been walking through the halls of the estate, healthy and strong in stature. Her worry was no longer necessary, but it never seemed to subside.

Theo nibbled along the inside of her cheek. Should she do it, she thought to herself. The young woman reached across her pillow and snatched her robe that warmed it, sliding it over her arms.

Her bare feet smoothed the cold floors as she padded around her bed and out of her bedroom. She started straight down the hallway and made a sharp left turn. In front of his bedroom door she stood. Hesitantly, she knocked softly.

A warm light peaked from the bottom of the door and gentle movements could be heard from the other side. She twiddled her fingers around a loose thread on the stomach of her slip.

After a few moments, the door opened. Theo smiled awkwardly, feeling small under his naturally intense gaze. She had trouble lifting her head to meet his.

“Why’re ye up, lass?” His voice was like water on a hot day—clear and crisp. Aila rolled her shoulders then shrugged.

“Had a nightmare about you,” she said quietly, her eyes nowhere near his. “Wanted to make sure you were okay...”

The man cracked a smile. His teeth peeked from behind his pink lips. Such a pretty sight, she thought to herself. He said nothing, only opened the door wider and nodded for her to enter.

She was hesitant. It was the first time she’d been in his room in the wee hours of the night. Theo stood in the middle of his bedroom, eyeing the knickknacks and other articles around. His desk was in the corner and it was littered with papers, some of them smeared with dark ink she assumed he knocked over.

His clothes were folded messily and tossed on a chest to her right. She shook her head. His messiness would never go away, it seemed.

Ahead of her, the flames of the fireplace danced and leapt swiftly.

“Tell me about this nightmare,” he asked of her. He palmed the door and closed it gently. Theo tore her eyes away from the fire and wrapped her arms around herself. Jamie moved to sit on his bed, hands rubbing his covered thighs.

“You were alone,” she started, eyes locked on the dancing flames in front of her. “had spent days alone in an area you did not know. Cold, starved, and afraid. No one could get to you.”

Jamie cocked his head to the side.

“I had nightmares like that all the time when you were gone.” Her voice was so small that he could hardly hear her. “I was scared you’d die out there alone. Hell, I thought you were dead the whole time you were gone.”

“Theo...” he inched towards her. His large hand cupped hers gently. “Ye should know ye canna get rid of me that easily.”

“You say that like you’re made of metal,” Jamie chuckled with a shake of her head. While any other time she would’ve scolded him for joking in a serious matter, she couldn’t help but feel the weight lift from her shoulders. He didn’t think she sounded ridiculous.

“Might as well be...come here, lass.”

With no sense of urgency, Theo’s legs carried her slowly to his bed. The weight was back. His soft demand made her nervous.

Jamie sensed her uneasiness and smiled. “Why’re ye nervous?”

“I...I don’t know,” she mumbled. Again, he ushered her over and she joined him on the bed. It was comfortable, she thought, as the bed dipped just slightly. Jamie laid against the pillow, while Aila sat upright, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap.

“You’re kind of intimidating,” Theo said after some moments. She turned her head and saw an amused grin on his beautiful lips.

“Is that so?”

Theo nodded. She scooted closer to him, finding it easier to relax. She shimmied onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Jamie turned his head to look at her. “Yeah. Maybe it’s your eyes. They’re pretty but intense. Or the scowl you always wear. You’re gonna mess around and lock your features into place.”

A hearty laugh fell from his lips which pulled a giggle from hers. “You truly believe me that?” Theo nodded . “Indeed, I do.”

“I thought about ye all the time,” Jamie said after some time. The portraits on the wall seemed to be less important as her attention was pulled from them. She met his eyes, “what?”

“I’m convinced,” he started. “that if I hadn’t thought of ye the way I did, I wouldn’t have survived. Ye were the one thing I held onto, Theo. I ken I had to come back to ye.”

“You’re just saying that,” she blew off bashfully. She moved to turn her head to face the ceiling but his hand grazing her skin halted the movement.

“No,” he said lowly. “Ye were the only thing I had to hold onto. And...ye mean a lot to me, lass.”

Theo found herself smiling. It was awkward and her lips quivered as they curled upwards, but nevertheless, she smiled a smile he found beautiful.

Jamie’s eyes fell from his eyes to her lips, tempting to pull her head close to his face and just taste them. He wondered if she tasted like the tea she drank twice a day—once in the morning and once a night.

“Can I...”

“...please,” she breathed.

He wasted no time in bringing his mouth to hers. She released a mewl of satisfaction. Her hands found his hair, and she gripped his frizzed curls tightly. He groaned softly into her mouth and she swallowed his sounds like a delicious meal.

His hands shook as they took place on her thighs. His fingers dug into the flesh and she whimpered softly. Theo’s fingers raked through his hair and massaged his scalp. Achaius felt his insides twist like a freshly wrung towel.

He'd never thought the day would come where he'd confess his feelings for her, let alone have her rocking on his lap like a ship on water and assaulting his neck. He enjoyed it more than words could explain.

"Jamie," she whimpered when it became too heated. She wanted him, but she couldn't put herself in such a position at the given moment. If they continued on, she was convinced things would've escalated in a manner she was unaware if she was ready for. “Can we just—“

Jamie sensed her growing anxiousness and tore his lips off of hers, and placed his hands on her middle back. His ocean eyes bore into hers and she was convinced if she stared long enough, they’d turn into a whirlpool and suck her in. Jamie brought her hand to kiss lips and kissed it gently. “Rest. And when you wake up, I’ll still be here. I promise.”

Theo nodded and rolled over to her side. She didn’t make it too far, as Jamie’s arm bracketed her to his side. She giggled softly, but accepted his closeness nonetheless.

“Good night, Theo.”

“Good night, Jamie.”

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish - Part 12

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: It has been a super long time since I've posted, like a year or more. I'm going to try to post weekly, but it depends on my schedule. As for a tag list, I'll be starting a new one – please send me a message to be added to the tag list. I don't always get to look through comments, so please message me.

Note Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2700 (SO LONG)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It turned out, in Angus's mind, the dog turned out to be a good distraction for you. It kept you from running around because you found yourself always training the dog. She was an angelic thing, who always got into some kind of trouble along the way. Your whole life you've been much of a rule follower, but as of recently you were finding you had a lot in common with the dog.

With this being said, you have yet to find a name you'd like for her. Often you found yourself filling the boredom by naming old fictional characters you loved when you remember the character Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Outside from being incredibly charming, he was intelligent, kind, and had patience and devotion for the ones he loved. You imagined you had a lot in common with Anne Shirley or you hope you did. And with that thought, you named the dog Blythe.

Jamie enjoyed watching you work with the mischievous creature. He could tell this was the first time you were filled with joy since you arrived in Scotland, "Why don't you go over and talk to the girl," Murtagh said from next to him.

He shook out of his daze, acting like he wasn't doing anything weird, "I like my bullocks, thank you."

Murtagh shook his head, "She wouldn't have that mutt if it wasn't for you, you know."

The men continue to work around and pack things away, "You and I both know she is a stubborn woman, if she wanted that dog enough she would have got it without myself or Ned mentioning a word."

"Coward," Murtagh whispered to Jamie.

"Damn right," he chuckled back.

You were working on the pups reactivity and word commands. While growing up you didn't get to have a pet, but your mother told you about when she raised dogs as a child. Your family moved around a lot, so having a pet wasn't in the cards. "Don't get too comfortable girl, we're going to be off soon," Angus barked at you from afar.

You turned around losing the smile on your face. With the time being away from the castle, you still hadn't earned much trust and you most definitely didn't give the men much energy. Outside of the pup, you were like a empty soul and it was coming to be more evident with every passing day. The dog plopped herself next to you watching Angus with her tongue out. Even Blythe was better respected and well liked by the men, even Angus though he'd deny it if anyone commented. Their acceptance of the dog made you more tolerant to their attitude and patriarchal manner. "Yes master," you bow.

"It's nice you are starting to learn your manners," he smirked back while making gestures towards the men.

With a deep inhale and low tolerance of attitude today you started to trudge towards your horse, "It was sarcasm, idiot," you grumbled.

He appeared to have the same tolerance of my attitude, "Watch your tongue girl or you'll get it cut off," Angus advanced forward while gripping his dagger.

Jamie and Murtagh were about to make a move when another man's voice appeared, "Everything alright miss," a British voice caught your attention.

Angus directed an aggressive response to the man. You turned to look at the man and in your daze started to register things about this man. He had a proper accent, boots, and his hair read a gentleman. He was clearly a British soldier and he could mean serious trouble. You turned to look at Jamie for a split second before charming a smile, "Excuse me sir," you asked, ignoring the comments from the other man to rile this man. This was not the time and place.

You could tell the tension with Dougal increased. He didn't trust what you would say, "I was asking if you were alright," he stepped forward again, ignoring the men behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear all that, sir. You shouldn't have had to hear a lady speak out of tune like that. It was very unbecoming of me," you looked embarrassed. Let's hope your acting skills are up to par. You ignored Murtagh mutter unbecoming to make fun of you, "It's just Angus here is a very, very, very," you paused to look at him, "Very distant cousin." You turn back to smile at the officer, "I sometimes gets so overwhelmed by his voice and tone I just lash out. I apologize," you put you hand on your heart. The dog looked up at you oddly, not recognizing your behaviors.

He smiled at you, not acknowledging the grumbling Scots behind you, "Not necessary, my lady I understand quite well actually." He bent down to scratch the puppy sitting in front of you, "I'm sorry your accent."

You scratch the back of you neck, "Right, I must sound so improper. I'm Y/N O'Mulligian. I came to visit some family here from the colonies at my brother's request. He said I could use some real life hard work. He likes to call me a debutante," you sent him a teasing smile.

Responding well to your story, he rises and smiles at you. A relief was lifted off your shoulders, you were almost past this moment when Dougal interrupted, "Enough," he shouted, "She is the guest of the clan MacKenzie and her business is none of yours." You clearly spoke too soon because the officers defenses shot back up.

"So off you go," Angus finished.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "Are you sure you are alright, miss," he looked unshaking at you. He clearly felt so much privilege he did not care remotely about the strapping Scottish men standing around him. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead how stupid these men had to be to not recognize the importance of this one man.

Dougal looked as if he was going to fight the man. You put your arm on his bicep to stop him, "Of course, good sir," you smile, "It's nice to know chivalry is not dead. I have more hard work to learn as you can see, it was very nice meeting you."

"Pleasure is all mine," he smiled back before frowning around the man watching this moment. He backed away into the blacksmith area to continue his work.

A minute passed by and you felt a firm grip on your arm drag you towards your horse, "It's best you didn't speak," Dougal scolded in your ear.

Anger surged through your body and it took every fiber of your being to say nothing. But as you were shoved onto your horse, you looked in the direction of the soldier and back at Jamie. You knew if you yelled it'd bring attention to Jamie, a fugitive to the English Army.

You continue to seethe on the ride. Blythe sat up, doing her best to see over the horses head to look ahead. "What's the dog's name," Jamie trotted next to you.

"Blythe," you muttered directly.

"What a cute English name," he emphasized on one word of his sentence.

You pulled back on your horse and halted, "Excuse me?"

He chose to stop with you, trying to not say directly what he'd like to say. It's been odd between you and Jamie. You weren't sure if you were pushing him away out of anger or fear, but none the less at this moment it appeared to be anger, "Nothing, it's a cute name."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth, "No, no, you had a tone," the man halt to watch another scene unfold, "You clearly have something you want to add, some hidden message you feel you want to hide. Say it."

"Nothing, you seem to just like the English a bit more than an Irish Woman from the colonies I thought would," he said like his words meant nothing. It didn't matter the fact that maybe he felt jealous or he had a right to comment on any intention or likes you have. That comment engulfed your whole body into volcano, hell fire fiery.

Heat was written all over your face and Murtagh didn't have enough time cool down your fire with rationality, "The boy is just saying, you were awfully chummy with the Brit," Angus chimed in, "like a girl in heat."

And there goes Mt. St. Helen, "Un-Fucking believable, do you know how fucking dumb you are, like every single on of you are just egg head fucking dumb," you scream enough to make the echo quake the woods around you.

"Lass," Ned sent a warning your way.

Tears started to brim your eyes and Jamie knew he'd set you up to fail again. You point to Ned, clearly a man of reason, "That man back there," you continued to yell, "Was an English Officer out patrolling." You looked to Jamie and everything deflated in you. Everything from the past and the reality of your new world just collapsed in your soul, "I was trying to save you."

A sigh leaves your lips and you talk lightly while using your hands to emphasize your point, "Men are idiots and will always fall for charm, so I used mine to protect you all," you continued to go on, "Call me a hussy, I don't care. And that plan to charm the officer actually worked until you opened your trap, my lord," you bowed your head at Dougal. Something than broke in you, in that moment, you were exhausted at being angry. You had no more fight in you. You gave Jamie another look, "I was scared. I was trying to save you," you whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you dismounted from you horse, "Now where are you going," Angus shouted at you.

The anger stirred up again, spinning around to look at him, "To relieve myself, thank you," you speak loudly while stomping into the woods.

You knew what Dougal did to Jamie in the pubs and you weren't sure why. It wasn't much of your business, but you could see it chipping into Jamie. You were stuck again in your thoughts, give into this new world and let these people in or continue to bury who you knew you were inside a dark cave and never leave.

The ride to the next village was quiet, especially after finding Scottish men hung out on display. You wanted to vomit at the lack of humanity in the cruel act. If this was the normal the British did to Scots, I'm not all shocked of their lack of kindness and trust towards me. I'm sure I wasn't helping the matter either.

When you got to the pub, you chose to join in with the drinking. The owner made a bee line as Blythe trotted behind you and laid at your feet, "Lass, we do not let do-," he stopped mid sentence from the look you were giving him. You were sitting up straight, dead face.

"You were saying, sir," you answered curtly.

"What can I get for you miss," he finished instead.

"A pint of whatever, I am not picky," you said, resting your feet on the chair in front of you.

The men went a distance away from you, you imagine to process the thing they just witnessed. A man approached you with a smile on your face and you shake your head putting your other foot on a chair and shoving it away from your table. He quickly turn around, "You'd make more friends if you weren't so prickly."

Murtagh patted at the dog, "My expression and acts are nothing but kind, sir." He shook his head, "Plus, I don't need any more friends when I only need you."

He chuckles, looking at Jamie, "It was a kind thing you did with the soldier. I'll be the only one to admit, that was a good eye you have."

"Don't think much of it, it was also self preservation because I'm not a exactly the kind British soldiers have a keen sense to protect," the man brought you your pint and you started to drink while you viewed in your surroundings.

He pointed at you, "You like everyone to think you're this cold hearted she witch."

"Maybe I am those things," you said like it didn't bother me to have that reputation.

Murtagh shook his head, "You are quite the opposite lass and the only person you are hurting are you." You roll your eyes sighing as he looks at your with a smirk, "And maybe a red headed boy who I suspect would do anything to see you smile once again." You sit up straighter as Murtagh stands while looking at you, while gesturing to Jamie. He lifts his eyebrows speaking you the truth, "Don't think I only talk to you because your good company. I get sick of seeing the boy mope around with his worry for you. A single smile from you can set his day."

You glare at him as your cheeks warm red, "Mind your business."

When he walks away, you sit and continue to process your reality and options. Every now and again you catch a glance at Jamie. You could see his expression and the change in him over the last few weeks. You stand walking your glass over to the bar with Blythe walking behind you. You could tell Dougal was about to start his speech. He wouldn't need Jamie today if you guessed right. Those hanging men were part of this community they didn't need to see Jamie's scars. You leaned against a pillar near Jamie, "You alright," you asked him catching eyes with Murtagh.

You shake off his knowing look. Jamie stood up straight looking at you bewildered from the sudden change in your demeanor, "Are you talking to me?"

"Don't make it a thing, just answer the question," you whisper.

"Aye, I'm fine," he whispers back, glancing at you for a second too long into silence. He clears his thoughts, "If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind with speaking to me?"

You smirk, "Murtagh paid me."

He shook his head, "Sure," he was trying to hold back a smile. Something appeared to pop up in his head, "Look Deoiridh, I'm sorry about."

"No," you stopped him, "Jamie, I'm stubborn and I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not from a place like this, so."

You noticed a change in his eyes when you said his name instead of Mr. MacTavish. This is where he stopped you, "I only want to help."

"Does that mean you agree I'm stubborn because Murtagh implied I was prickly earlier and that's why I don't make friends," you say while trying to hold back a grin.

He shook his head making his red hair shake with it, “You see comments like that are a trap and I will not be stepping on that one.”

“Smart man,” you say to him.

“And now a compliment, I might think you are wanting to be my friend again,” he whispered back with a smirk.

You see Dougal getting ready to do your speech, “I should be getting out of here and up to my room. I shouldn’t be down here when,” you stopped to look at Dougal, “Well good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back.

“And Jamie, just for transparency sake, the jury is still out if we are friends,” he paused appearing to hold his breath. You offer a small smile, “I need you to walk over to Murtagh and tell him I was nice then I'll consider being your friend. You know for the sake of proving Murtagh wrong. It's the price you have to pay for my friendship.” And before he can respond, you and Blythe make your way upstairs.

[doyelikehaggis]

ahh yess

could you please write something where claire finds the reader in an alley in wilmington? the reader is hurt and claire wants to bring her back to the ridge for treatment. maybe during recovery reader confesses they have no family/home.

i love a bit of angst

So this was VERY delayed, and I do apologize for that! But I hope that it's okay, it's my first time writing any kind of "reader" fic as I said before, so this is more practice than anything haha

TW: Assault/Referenced Assault (? If there are any other triggers you think need to be added, just let me know!)

Your side was aching with every shallow breath you tried to take, and damn if you tried a deeper one; it felt as though your skin was being torn apart and burned. You didn't dare to look down. There was something wet and sticky and cold where your fingers pressed against the torn fabric of your dress, and you knew what that meant without needing to see the vibrant colour for yourself. 

'It's okay,' you whispered, nodding shakily. 'It's okay. You're okay. It doesn't hurt that much really. Just don't think about the pain and it'll go away. It's all in your head.'

The desire to close your eyes for just a moment was so tempting, and you could already feel your body sagging with the relief of giving in. Maybe a quick rest would help. Perhaps you just needed to take a moment, let your mind settle and your body recover from the... 

Yes. That makes sense. And then, when you felt better, you could use the wall to push yourself up and see if you could get out of the alley. There were buildings close enough. Perhaps somewhere with a nice, comfortable bed. Silk sheets. So soft under your hot, sweaty skin. Pillows so plump that your head would just sink into them like a cloud.

There, you thought sleepily as the brick wall faded into a nice black sky of twinkling stars, the pain is already leaving. A few moments to get your strength back was all you needed. 

Your heart stuttered you awake again what felt like an hour later to a chilling cold pressing down on your skin. For the briefest fevered moment, you swore you were afloat in the river. It was the only explanation for how bone-chilling cold, and numb and wet you felt. 

'--hear me?' a voice asked suddenly, startling you into a panic. 

Your eyes shot open and you tried to get up right away. Only, you found you barely had the strength to twitch a finger, and a strong hand held fast to your shoulder, keeping you pinned in place. Connected to it was a middle-aged woman, dark hair swept back behind her shoulders, and worry lines creasing her forehead.

'No, don't move,' she commanded.

She needn't have bothered issuing such a warning, though. Your entire body was vibrating. Rattling with such force that you felt as though your ribs were knocking together and cracking inside of you. Beneath them, your heart was being shaken around.

'Can you hear me?' the woman repeated the question she had been trying to ask you before, and you managed to nod this time but not much else. She nodded back, satisfied. 'Good. You're conscious. That means you're not dead.'

Was she sure? You definitely didn't feel alive. In fact, you didn't feel much at all. Were you floating? Had you left your body but were still aware of everything happening back on the ground as you travelled up to the gates in the sky?

The woman had clearly said something else that you didn't catch as she gave you a hard shake and grabbed your chin with one hand, roughly forcing you back down into your body. 

'Hey, stay focused on me,' she demanded. 'Got it? Keep listening to me. Now, I need you to tell me what you were attacked with. Because I am seeing a lot of blood, but I'm not sure where it's coming from without removing your dress.'

Blood. Your mind flashed through the att... A face came before your eyes, teeth bared. Your stomach recoiled fiercely and you were winded all over again, struck by an invisible blow.

You tried to answer her, but between the lack of air and your tongue being ten sizes too big to fit in your mouth, you couldn't get anything out. 

'Alright, no, that's okay,' she said, with a suddenly much softer voice. You faintly registered fingers stroking some hair from your cheek (thank the lord, it was so sticky with sweat and the feel of wet hair on your skin made you want to crawl out of your body entirely) as she soothed your whimpers. 'You don't need to answer. Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to help you stand, okay?'

There was no time to think about if you even could stand or not. She was already positioning you, shifting your weakened body as carefully as she could. Every little movement still felt like a thousand knives to your gut and spine and head. 

Sweat was pouring heavier from you by the time it took for her to get you wobbling onto your feet, even with her taking most of your weight. It didn't feel worth it. The ground was much more comfortable than this, even if it was rough and hard. At least you weren't at risk of falling flat on your face.

The effort of trying to remain upright was too much. Stars began popping up in front of your eyes, and suddenly the weight had lifted from your body entirely. You were floating. Made of cotton and cloud, your sense filled with a gush of soothing air that went straight to your head, and let you fall comfortably into slumber. 

***

The first thing to catch your attention was the voices. They were too close, but still too quiet. Whispering back and forth like you weren't even there. It would take much more effort than you could muster to hear what they were actually talking about, but you picked up on the worried tone of the room well enough. 

All you wanted was to go back to sleep. It was peaceful there. Here, a dull ache was settling into your stomach, and growing the more you thought about it which you couldn't now stop. You squeezed your eyes tighter together in the hopes that it would help. 

It was no use. You were only getting steadily more uncomfortable as the seconds passed by, and the voices were starting to become clearer. Neither of them was entirely familiar. A surge of panic shot through you.

Should you move? Would you even be able to? Something in the back of your mind was screaming that you wouldn't. But then what were your options? It didn't feel like there were many at all with how twisted around and wrong your insides felt, not to mention the searching headache that was collecting behind your eyes.

Maybe you should start there, you thought with a bit more confidence. At least if you could get a glimpse of where you were or these people, you may have a better idea of how to get away. Assuming these people were holding you were against your will, of course. The last thing you could remember was the attack. 

Oh, Lord. Your heart sped into a flurry of panic as you began automatically mentally reciting prayers. Just as you had done when you realized what was about to happen when you heard the noise behind you in the alley. Your eyes were filling rapidly at the realization that if it was indeed your previous attacker in the room right now, you had even less chance of escaping this time around. After all, you had been fully conscious and able-bodied then and still couldn't get away. What were you supposed to do in whatever state you were currently in? 

You begged yourself not to cry or make a noise, fearing it would alert the people in the room. Fingers curling tightly into the nearest thing -- something soft and quilt-like -- it was already too late as a heaving sob tore at your throat and escaped from your mouth. You quickly opened your eyes and turned your head as the voices abruptly stopped. 

Your memories were foggy so it was hard to recall details about your attacker. But as your eyes focused on the woman who rushed to your bedside the moment you made a noise, there was a pull of familiarity at the back of your mind. Something about her. You had seen her before. 

That only made you cry harder, more certain now than before that you were doomed. You had to get away. You had to try.

Movement equalled pain. Searing pain that ripped through your stomach and lungs and made it hard to breathe. Somehow you ended up on the floor, trying to push yourself to your hands and knees only to collapse against the hard floor when your abdomen clenched excruciatingly. 

"Jamie, help me get her back onto the bed," you heard someone (you presumed the woman from the firm but feminine nature of the voice) say, and then felt hands grasp your arms. You tried to resist and the woman snapped, "Stop, you're going hurt yourself!" 

"Please!" you begged, finding your throat raw and painful, causing your voice to crack when you tried to speak. "Just let me go!"

You writhed and squirmed harder as the hands pulled you to your feet with considerable ease, and you tried to lodge your elbow back as hard as you could into what you hoped would be some soft flesh. There was a grunt of acknowledgement but it only resulted in a thick, muscled arm wrapping firmer around your body to keep you contained. 

"Jamie, don't hurt her," the woman commanded. 

"Tryin' ma best, Sassenach," a rougher, far deeper voice grunted in your ear. Then to you, he said, "We're tryin' tae help ya, lass. If I let you go, yer no gonna last two seconds oan yer feet. Just get on the bed, and a give ye ma word I'll let ye loose. Agreed?" 

You weren't sure you could believe him. Your eyes met the woman in front of you. She gave you a gentle smile and nodded assuringly that it was the truth. You were beginning to remember her. The alley. She found you. 

Out of exhaustion more than obedience, you stopped fighting. With some help from the two of them, you were able to get back onto the bed, and true to his word, the man quickly retracted his hands and took a few steps back to give you some distance. Finally, you were able to get a look at him. 

While you couldn't rule out that the two of them might be working with your attacker, you were certain that neither of them had an actual hand in it in the alley. It was definitely a man, but you would have remembered the shock of red hair had it been the one in front of you right now. 

"Right." The woman came up to your side and looked down at you with a serious expression. "You can understand everything I'm saying, correct?" You nodded and she seemed pleased with the answer. "You're not delirious then. Good. And how is your memory? You know your own name, I assume?" 

You nodded again, a little more confident this time. You only seemed to be confirming what she already knew. 

"And..." she hesitated now, eyes flicking down to where you suddenly remembered you had been bleeding out from quite recently. Her voice softened in a way that surprised you.  "Can you recall anything? From the attack?" 

Attack. Attacked. That's what you were. It was all real, not just some horrifically vivid nightmare. Turning the corner as the footsteps matched your own, speeding up with the quickly dwindling hope that you might be able to reach the other end and make a run for it. You had opened your mouth in preparation, ready to scream at the top of your lungs and pray that someone might take pity and intervene rather than turn a blind eye. 

Cold, rough hands. The dull blade. Searing pain. 

You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head, pushing the heels of your hands deep into your sockets to block out the assaulting images. The woman was speaking again in that soft voice. Soothing words of safety, assurances that you didn't have to say anything, an offer to simply rest until you felt better. 

When you wouldn't stop crying and were bordering on hysterical, screaming until your throat felt as torn as your stomach, the woman carefully take your wrists in either hand and pulled your hands from your face. Your eyes opened in a panic and you stared up at her in fear.

"You are safe," the woman told you, looking directly into your eyes and speaking slow. "Do you understand? My name is Claire Fraser, and that man is my husband, Jamie Fraser. I am a doctor. I found you in the alley in Wilmington, you were bleeding out, but I got my husband to help me bring you back with us to our home so that I could heal you properly. You are in no danger."

You took a few staggering breaths. Claire nodded slowly as she saw you begin to calm down, no matter how slowly. Her already loose grip on your wrists loosened further, and you now felt the small circular motion of her thumbs against your bones. 

"You don't..." You swallowed hard, fearful that your question would lead to an answer you didn't want to hear. "You just found me? You don't know the man who...?"

The words felt like broken glass in your mouth. And you'd experienced that before. It was no more pleasant metaphorically. 

Claire shook her head with a mournful expression, and she slowly lowered herself to perch on the edge of the bed. "No. I have no idea who did this to you. My husband and I were walking past the alley when I thought I saw something move. I went to check. Which is where I found you, in need of medical assistance." 

"Am I going to die?" you whispered shakily, tears already brimming in your eyes again. 

To your relief, she smiled. "No. You're not going to die."

Maybe it was stupid of you to take a stranger at their word without further question, but you were too exhausted to stir up doubt and suspicion. For once, you simply wanted to give in to the feeling of safety. Perhaps it would be short-lived, but that wasn't your problem right now. 

The man, Jamie, said something too fast and low for you to understand, but Claire nodded and waved him off. He left the room with a last glance at you. It felt strangely warm and comforting. There was something about the way he looked at you that felt like understanding. A kind of sympathy that could only come from a place of experience. 

"Right," Claire said, the soft tone of her voice turning a tad more formal. "I need to have a look at your stomach, to see how the wound's healing. And your dressings will need to be changed soon, as well as further cleaning to prevent any chance of infection."

You were beginning to panic again. You simply nodded a go-ahead for her to inspect the wound. 

While she was gently peeling away the dressing from your tender skin, you watched her work and tried not to think about what would happen if she said you were fine to leave. Where were you supposed to go? You were barely surviving as it was, and going back out onto the streets of Wilmington left you with a heavy sense of dread inside of you.

It could happen again. And you may not have anyone to find you this time. 

"Where are we?" you asked, blanking on whether or not she had already told you. 

"My home," Claire simply responded, then thankfully lifted her eyes to meet yours with another slight smile and elaborated, "Fraser's Ridge. We're still in North Carolina, don't worry."

"Fraser's Ridge," you repeated. You thought you might have heard of the place before. You winced as Claire prodded your stomach, then muttered something that sounded like a different language entirely. Is it just you and your husband who live here?" 

"And our kids." Claire returned to your side after briefly getting up to collect something from a drawer. It looked like more white fabric. "And their kids, and many other people. We built this ridge as a place for people to be able to come if they have nowhere else to go." Her gaze felt like a warm blanket. "Anyone is welcome." 

Anyone. You were anyone, you supposed. You bit your tongue and kept quiet as she went back to attending to your stomach. 

Some time passed in silence. When you winced again as a dull throbbing pulsed through your abdomen briefly, Claire apologised and hurried her work while simultaneously steadying herself so as not to hurt you further. She was kind from what you could tell, even if a bit intimidating. 

"This is going to hurt," she warned regretfully as she pulled out some more white fabric and poured a generous amount of some liquid onto it. Seeing you eye it warily, she explained, "It's to keep the wound clean."

It stung the moment it touched you. You couldn't bite your tongue. You cursed and then immediately flushed with embarrassment at losing your manners. To your surprise, Claire laughed. Loud and unladylike, for sure. 

"Good sentiments," she joked, and continue to talk to you as she cleaned you up. "So, where are you from? Are you only visiting North Carolina or do you live here?" 

You shook your head. "I only got here a few days ago. I'm not really from anywhere." You bit the inside of your cheek hard until the sharp sting passed, then gently released it and ignored the metallic tang on your tongue. "After my mother and my older sister died, I didn't have anywhere to go. So," you shrugged one shoulder, "I've just been trying to find somewhere. It's hard, though. There aren't many places willing to take me in. Well. Not without... it benefiting them." 

You didn't have to elaborate. Claire understood. You averted her eyes from her pained gaze, picking at a bit of lint on the bedsheet beneath you. You felt her finish cleaning your wound, and you ignored the dull throbbing pulse.

"If you wanted to," Claire started after a moment or so of quiet, pulling the gown you were clothed in back down over your stomach and covering you back up with a sheet, "you could stay here."

Instantly, your mind was flooded with the idea. Not having to worry about where you would sleep that night, or the next. Having a kind face everywhere you went. You even knew some things about tending to food and plants, so you could work in exchange for them allowing you to stay if needed. 

It was such a fantastical dream that you had to quickly ground yourself back in reality.

"Really?" you asked timidly, hoping you didn't sound too hopeful in case she was about to take the offer back. "I have no money. And I'm not exactly pure, so I can't really--" 

"That doesn't matter," Claire swiftly interjected, shutting down your protests. She gently took your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, then shook her head meaningfully. "You don't have to give us anything."

[salems-crimes]

updated ; Jan. 24, 2O22

who I write for / what fandoms ;

i only do ‘x reader’ and I try not

to specify gender, however, I do

invision the reader as female.

bridgerton · anthony bridgerton,, benedict bridgerton,, simon basset

criminal minds · aaron hotchner,, derek morgan,, emily prentiss,, luke alves,, spencer reid

f.r.i.e.n.d.s · chandler bing,, monica geller,, joey tribbiani,, rachel green,, phoebe buffay

game of thrones · bronn,, daenerys targaryen,, jaime lannister,, melisandre,, oberyn martell,, robb stark,, tyrion lannister

harry potter · barty crouch jr,, bellatrix lestrange,, bill weasley,, draco malfoy,, fred weasley,, george weasley,, remus lupin,, sirius black

lucifer · lucifer,, dr. linda,, maze,, ella lopez

marvel · agatha harkness,, bucky barnes,, loki laufeyson,, natasha romanoff,, stephen strange,, steve rogers,, tony stark,, wanda maximoff,, yelena belova (platonic only for yelena)

ncis · jethro gibbs,, tony dinozzo,, ziva david,, jenny shepard,, abby sciuto

outer banks · jj maybank,, john b,, kie

outlander · dougal mackenzie,, jamie fraser,, murtagh fitzgibbons fraser

outsiders · dally winston,, darry curtis,, sodapop curtis

once upon a time · belle french,, charming,, cora,, jefferson,, killian jones,, mr. gold,, peter pan,, reigna mills,, zelena

peaky blinders · author shelby,, polly gray,, thomas shelby

supernatural · charlie bradbury,, crowley,, dean winchester,, gabriel,, rowena macleod,, sam winchester

the last kingdom · iseult,, ragnar the younger,, uhtred,, skade

the witcher · geralt of rivia,, jaskier,, yennefer of vengerberg,, triss merigold

the vampire diaries · bonnie bennett,, caroline forbes,, damon salvatore,, davina claire,, elijah mikaelson,, enzo st. john,, freya mikaelson,, hayley marshall,, katherine pierce,, kol mikaelson,, marcel gerard

twilight · carlisle cullen,, emmett cullen,, jasper hale,, rosalie hale

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 11

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1700

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obvious fighting and violence, mention of suicide

 **  I hope I tagged everyone, this chapter isn’t the greatest, but I had to write through some writers block. Hope you like the chapter. If you want to be tagged, please feel free to message me

You tossed and turned throughout the night, in and out of a dream nightmare scape. The more you felt comfortable with the reality of the situation the deeper into despair you got. You thought survival would be something that kicked in and convince you to follow to rules and deny this sadness that has been growing in your core. You thought it was just easier to ignore and take this situation moment by moment. Recently, it has quickly become evident that there is not much you do to fix the problem in front of you. You could try to get away and more likely die or grow accustomed and slowly lose yourself, your brother, and everything you’ve learned to love in the 21st century. Most the books that helped you become this strong, independent woman – whom like your knowledge of those books could not exist in this world.

 And where were you bags, Jamie was supposed to return them to you. You planned to give him a few slap against his ears and some nasty words with defending the woman you caused you to snap. He clearly found his time to distract himself with this devil, jealous woman. You quickly shook off the feelings, no person was worth giving them that much control of your feelings. Jamie was too grounding and has had too much affect on you.

 Angus barreled his way down the surgery, “Let’s go Lass, we have to be on our way.”

 Pulling yourself up from your make shift bed down there, you grabbed your luggage and made your way up to your horse. You were tightening some of your bags, when Jamie approached you. You chose to ignore his presence. He cleared his throat and tried to hand you your bags, “Y/N.”

 “Mr. MacTavish,” you answered, pulling the bags from his hand and pushing your dagger in your belt of your dress. He stared at you, trying to figure you out and how to approach the situation.

He nodded his head, “Oh we’re back to this again.”

 “To what are you referring, sir,” you answered back continuing to secure your luggage, which you were purposely taking your time completing.

 “Mr. MacTavish,” he answered back at you, waiting for you to respond. When you didn’t he grabbed your wrist to stop your movement, a growl erupted from your chest.

 “You’ll find it a good idea to unhand me good sir before you lose a hand,” you finally looked at him. His expression didn’t change, he waited for you to respond like you were friends or share your feelings. You just stared at him a bit longer, getting more uncomfortable with his silence. He was a patient man, that was for sure. “Took you long enough to get my bags back to me from your lassy girl, I’m sure she enjoyed your attention,” you shot back, turning back to your horse, “Hope it was worth it for you.”

 He cleared his throat again, “That’s what this is about, you think I was with Laohaire,” he pointed back at you. A smirk grew on his face, “And that upsets you.”

 “Nothing you do can upset me because I don’t care about you, do whatever you want,” you jabbed him with your finger harshly, “Mr. MacTavish,” you finished turning back to your horse, “Unless you touch me and I’ll gut you like a fish.”

 “Jamie, Dougal wants you for something,” Angus walked up to you and Jamie. Jamie looked at you for a second later before turning towards Dougal. Angus looked at you, yelling after Jamie, “Watch this one Jamie, she might be having a special lady moment,” Angus joked while walking in the same direction.

 You quickly went for your dagger to go after Angus when Murtagh pushed his hand in front of you, giving you a stern look and the ‘gimme’ motion with his hands, “Hand it over girlie.” You grunted again and handed over your dagger. “That a lass, now let’s get you on that horse,” he squatted to help you onto your horse. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, Murtagh was growing on you, like a father figure. It has been a very long time since you felt a bond like that. “Don’t be too harsh on young Jamie, it isn’t like what you think,” Murtagh shared.

 “What do I think,” you looked down at him.

 “Stupid doesn’t suit you,” Murtagh said to you, shaking his head. He mounted his horse next to you, “We’ve got a long trip ahead, it won’t do you any good to push him away like that.”

 “I have no feelings Murtagh, it really doesn’t matter to me. I’m just here to make sure everyone doesn’t die of dysentery,” you say to him before pulling forward to follow the moving crowd of men.

 The ride was peaceful and chilled. It was a beautiful way to practice mindfulness and looking at the grand scheme of your predicament. You watched the men exchange their taxes, a older version of capitalism and taxes. Your tried not to think of how difficult this might be for different families. Often you set up a mock hammock and read what books you could bring on your journey or write a journal entry or story.

 Occasionally you walked around the little villages and helped the citizens free of charge or what they could pay. Angus kept a close eye on you, still not fully trusting you, especially because you kept mostly to yourself or quiet. Ned and Murtagh was who you found yourself talking to most of the time. You could listen to Ned recite poetry and tell tales all day. Murtagh would just grumble about your actions and chilly disposition. And Jamie would try his hardest to stay in your good graces, but you didn’t move from you stance of trying to keep your distance, which you could tell bothered him.

 You were walking about as the men collected the taxes when you heard a commotion. It caught your attention and you moved closer to see if you could help anyone at the moment, when a women came chasing a animal out with her broom. It ran into your feet and you looked upon a small puppy staring back at you. “Stay out of my food mutt,” the lady shouted.

 “Excuse me, does this puppy belong to someone,” you asked, picking up the dog and cradling it to your chest. It couldn’t be more than a few months old.

“That runt is a menace around here, going to get himself killed,” she shared with you, “Cute, but no one has business around her for a puppy like that.”

 For the first time in a long time, you felt a little bit of home, “So, if I took the puppy no one would care.”

 “Willing to pay for it,” she asked you, looking to see if she could get a quick buck.

 Scrounging in your pockets, “I got a few coins, would that be worth your troubles?” She nodded and took the cash and you lifted up the puppy to get a better look at it. It was a female puppy, who looked like a border collie with some brindle coloring. She just stared at you, you pulled out some scraps you kept in your pocket to snack on and fed the dog, “Alright, let’s keep this between us for a bit, shall we?” The puppy tilted her head, while continuing to munch on the snack you gave her.

 You went to introduce her to your horse when Angus shouted at you, “No way, you can’t keep it.”

 “Whatever I chose or not chose to travel with is known of your concern,” you say, letting your horse sniff at the puppy who just let it happen.

 Angus yelled for Dougal as everyone continued to pack for the next village trip. This caught the crew’s attention, “We can’t worry about feeding another mouth, lass, leave the pup.”

 You felt anger grow in your chest and looked to Murtagh who was shaking his head no, “I promise that won’t be anything you will have to worry about. She’ll be my responsibility. I’ll train her and take care of her. Any issues, I promise I’ll be the first to find her another home, please Dougal,” it killed you to have to ask for permission.

 Jamie stepped up, “She’s been nothing but helpful Dougal. She’s kept to herself, she the only girl on this trip. She’s lonely, let her keep the pup.”

 This was the first time you looked at Jamie for longer than 5 seconds without quickly looking away. Ned chimed in, “Jamie’s right, Dougal, the girl deserves a companion. She’s a responsible young lady, she won’t let the puppy get in the way.”

 Dougal rolled his eyes, “You’re in charge of it girl, the first time it kills one of the animals here is the time it gets tossed. You got it,” he pointed to you.

 “I swear, scouts honor,” you give the girl scouts oath symbol. He looked at you strangely and continued getting ready to head for the bar.

 For the first time in a while, you felt a glow in your chest. You squeezed the little creature, when Jamie walked up to you. “Seems you made a friend,” he whispered from behind you. You turn to look at him, “Cute little thing.”

 “I didn’t need you to jump to my aid,” you said to him, hugging the puppy.

 He nodded looking down at you, reaching to scratch the puppy’s ear, “I know, but if you don’t want to be friends with me, you minus well have someone to talk to. She seems like a good ally.”

 You look at him for a moment longer, feeling a little chip in your armor, “Jamie.”

 Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher @lovesanimals @bilesxbilinskixlahey @ dreamybab3 @stuckupstucky @glassesandthunderthighs @ nerdypartytrashpsychic @merlehs @0-cries-0

 “Hold that thought, I have a little show I have to put on,” Jamie shared walking away in his ripped and sewn back up shirt. More armor chipped away because it was easy to avoid thinking about Jamie’s feelings when you didn’t witness the scene his uncle caused. He was going through something and you continued to push him away. Maybe you had to reframe your thoughts on Jamie.

Part 12

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 9

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1900

 Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

You heard Jamie’s word after he left, ‘You should go up and spend some time with the clan, it might be worth learning a bit more.’ He wasn’t wrong, though it was hard for you to admit it. You took a deep sigh, fixed your hair, and went back up the stairs. You found Mrs. Fitz, who passed you a drink. “Lovely you joined us again Y/N. Everything prepped for the hunt?”

 “Sure is, Mrs. Fitz, sure is, which means I can drink and be merry,” you watched as the line started to dwindle down as the men took their oaths to Colum. “Anything happen after the oath taking, like that musician, will he be playing today. Love that guy,” you smile down at her.

 She looked at you bemused and shook her head, “No, he won’t be playing this evening. There will be dancing later, I’m sure quite a few men would be interested in dancing with you.”

 You shook your head at her, “You are not a match maker Mrs. Fitz. I would not dare to go out on that floor. I would insult the good Mackenzie clan with my lack of grace.” A man tripped over his feet in front of you and stumbled on to find his friends.

“Grace is nothing you need to worry about here dear,” she grinned at you. “Not too difficult to figure out, I’ll have Laoghaire show you later,” she tapped you. Laoghaire stood next to her, giving you a strange look, you were sure you didn’t warrant. Suddenly the room grew quiet and you looked up towards the entrance of the hall. Jamie was weaving through the crowd slowly. He had changed and making his way towards the oath taking line. And every eye was on him, except when you turned to observe everyone’s reaction Murtagh was looking at you. You gripped Mrs. Fitz’s arm and pushed towards Murtagh, there was no way you were taking credit for this.

 When you made yourself up to him, he was towards the back of the room with his hand gripping the top of his sword, “Why do I have a feeling this involves you?”

 “I didn’t do it,” you whispered harshly to him, sounding like a child defending their lack of innocence. He tipped his head over not believing you for a second, “I didn’t do it on purpose, and he told me he could get back just fine.”

 “You don’t understand what you just did to him. You signed his death sentence,” he pulled you back further. Murtagh caught you up in the severity of Jamie’s predicament. With every word, you grew more worrisome and filled with guilt. The thought of not having Jamie to rely on as a friend tousled around in your head. You tried to find a way to free Jamie from this situation and the only thought you could manage was start a fire or faint and you didn’t believe either of those situations would help him out of this.

 It was Jamie’s turn next and you didn’t acknowledge that you started to hold your breath. Suddenly without reason or thought, you grabbed Murtagh’s forearm. And without much thought, Jamie diplomatically got himself out of the situation looking like a leader. You cursed under your breath, before dusting off the front of your dress, “And you were worried Murtagh. See Jamie came out looking like a,” you paused not being able to come up with a metaphor that would make sense in the 18th century, “I don’t know. He is just fine. Now you can’t be mad at me.”

 Murtagh rolled his eyes as Jamie walked up to him, “Couldn’t stay away from trouble, aye?”

 Jamie looked towards you, his face grew a knowing smile I didn’t quite understand, “Sometimes trouble finds me than I’m like a moth to flame. Y/N, I see you decided to join the gathering again.”

 “You made it sound so exciting and here you were not wrong. Though it doesn’t bode well that you got caught. And now Murtagh here is blaming me for your lack of discretion,” you use your thumb to point back at Murtagh, “And I was starting to win him over.”

 Scratching the back of his neck, leaning in to whisper, “Not everyone can be sneaky as you and not get caught.”

 “Tis right there sir,” you shoot back at him.

 Hearing a big sigh come from his partner in crime, Murtagh gave Jamie an eye roll and pulled him out of the hall, “You’ve had enough of trouble this evening, let’s go.”

 “Enjoy your evening, Y/N.”

 You shook your head, biting back a snarky comment. You could throttle the man for making everything seem so suave and charming. As Jamie and Murtagh rounded the hall entrance, the phrase you repeated to yourself, ‘your charm doesn’t work on me Jamie.’ It was slowly hitting you that, that mantra might not be as strong as you needed it to be. You looked around, feeling someone starring at you and caught eye contact with Laoghaire. And suddenly she was storming out of your eyesight. The dancing had started and you watched the mesmerizing dance of the culture. Everyone’s laughter put you at ease for a moment. Then suddenly, you were in your head missing your home and brother. You weren’t meant to be here, everything you are is fake or reserved. You couldn’t live like this and the bought of hopelessness took over your soul. In this moment, something inside you became a little toxic.

  The next morning, you were up early for the hunt. The way the night ended with the uneasiness sat on your chests as you dressed for the day. This wasn’t your place, this wasn’t your job, and it started to bother you how different the times are. You would never be respected as a woman, an unmarried woman. You tossed your hair in two French braids, per usual fashion when having a busy day. You dropped your hair piece under the bed and you ducked down to grab it to suddenly find a strange bundle. You finished with your hair and brought the bundle down to the kitchen.

 You grabbed some bread and sat the bundle on the table, “Dear what are you bringing that into this kitchen,” Mrs. Fitz yelled catching you off guard and causing you to stumble backwards.

 “I,” you paused to comprehend the situation, “I, I found it in my room, under my bed and I was going to ask it was some weird potpourri thing. What is it?”

 “It’s an ill-wish, a witch’s making,” she tossed it into the fire.

 “An ill-wish, what?”

 “Someone be wishing to bring you harm dear, what have you gotten into,” she put both her hands on your face, “Try staying out of trouble, someone has an eye to hurt you.”

 “I didn’t do anything, literally I have been making myself small at possible Mrs. Fitz,” your voice started to raise. You have done everything in your power to win people over, treat people with kindness, not start a stir when you found injustice to your gender and status. You didn’t believe in witchcraft, though it should cause you to question since you are living the 18th century, which is something you would never believe in.

 “All due respect, Mrs. Fitz, but someone is going to get their ass beat hard,” you shot catching everyone’s attention.

 “Lass, mind your tongue. That is not the language a lady speaks,” Mrs. Fitz tried to sooth you.

 You pull away from her, “No,” you start to gather your things feeling the heat of this betrayal crumble the wall you built around your true self to keep you protected from these people. Every comment, action, and lie you’ve told to keep yourself from being killed, shunned, raped, or imprisoned is bubbling out of your pours. You have reached you limit, “I am not a lady Mrs. Fitz. I do not belong here. I wear pants damn it, I swear, and I could probably kick the ass of half the men here,” you paused, “At the same time,” you paused again, “Maybe not, but I sure would die trying. I do not belong here. Look at how everyone looks at me, treats me, I’m the enemy because I’m different. I’m not part of the clans, I’m an imposter. And rather than whisper about their hatred, someone wants to cause me actual pain with this bullshit. Fuck that. I’m sorry Mrs. Fitz and pardon me, but fuck that.” Your packs were hanging from my shoulder, “Let this spread around the village, anyone that can guarantee me the name of the person who put this under my bed gets all the money I have earned over the time I’ve been here.”

 “Y/N,” Mrs. Fitz called after you. She clearly was not offended by your lewdness, but more she was concerned about what you were about to cause with your burst of feelings of revenge and anger.

 You stomped up to Angus, “Where the necklace man, I didn’t escape or leave, now give the piece back?”

 “Don’t speak to me like that lassie,” he started to feel around his body for the necklace you gave him the night before. With every pat, your already boiling anger grew. That was the only piece from your family you owned. “Might of lost-,” he started to say.

 With the beginning of his sentence, you went for your dagger lying on your waistband. Before you could pull it out, Rupert pushed your hand down holding the handle down, “Settle down Y/N, Angus gave me the necklace to watch over. He noted he would lose it.” He pushed the charm in your hand, “If that would have came out, Angus would have gutted you. Does the hunt have you on edge lass?”

 “Stupidity has me on edge Rupert and it’s not much of your business,” you stormed away to find your horse. Something had changed in you and you weren’t sure what to do about it.

 You struggled to get on your horse, when someone came up and offered you an extra push. Jamie stood in front of you and your horse, “Mrs. Fitz asked me to check on you. She shared you were upset and threatening people. I heard you tried to pull a knife on Angus, what has gotten into you woman.”

 This time you didn’t make eye contact with Jamie, “Mind your business Mister MacTavish. If I want to fight or punish someone for their actions against me, then I’ll see fit to do it. Now get out of my way, there is a boar to chase down and murdered.”

 Jamie didn’t move, keeping your horse in place, “You going to get yourself killed and as your friend, that does in fact concern me. You shouldn’t be going on the hunt like this.”

 You pushed forward with the horse causing Jamie to back up quickly, “I’ve seen Old Yeller, I get the dangers that come from a boar. Right now, you should be worried about the clansmen Mackenzie. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you started to move towards the field.

 You were fully aware he would not get the reference from the 21st century, but you did not care. The thought of taking the horse and charging out of the village to the stones drifted to your mind. But you still cared to get back to your brother at the moment and that meant you had to have a chance to survive, “Y/N,” Jamie yelled after you.

 “Leave me alone, Mister MacTavish, I have business to attend to,” you shouted back.

 Part 10

Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher @lovesanimals @bilesxbilinskixlahey

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 10

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader 

Words: 1400

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obvious fighting and violence, mention of suicide

*I’ll be honest, this chapter is more of a fuller, substance chapter. If you wanted to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or chat. Thank you for everyone’s patience!

The hunt still left you plenty in your thoughts. It should be on helping in whatever way you can, but you kept thinking on your role here and how you clearly will never belong, no matter how to try to be kind and open to the culture, no matter how much you push away your own values and morals for these people. It will never matter. Rupert yelled your name, catching your attention. A man got hurt and you help mend what you can before instructing Rupert to bring him back to the village. Another scream, a different type of scream caused you to be pulled from you own thoughts of now and into the times of wartime. You charge to the scream, you found a man losing blood quickly, and a shot pulled you from your thoughts. The boar that did this must have been shot, “Mistress Y/L/N, am I going to die?”

 All the pressure and anger you felt subsided, “Hold of Geordie, let me look at you,” several clansmen surrounded you. Dougal showed up to hold Geordie as you tried to patch up his leg. Dougal and him were exchanging words when you saw the wounds to his abdomen. Dougal made eye contact with you and you knew he knew what you were saying. You pulled off the tourniquet, and grabbed his hand, “Geordie, the pain is going to be go soon, but while we wait, I have a bet with Angus.” Geordie looked at you the way many men have looked at you before in the Marine. You had to bring him peace in the time of his panic, “I bet Angus that the colonies had more beautiful sites than Scotland. Tell me about your home, what’s it like?”

 Georgie perked up as he told you about his home and you gripped his hand with all your might and continue to stroke his hair to help sooth him. And soon he was gone, you quickly got up and made your way to your horse. Before you knew what you were doing, you made your way to the castle. You needed some busy work, like stitching up the leg of the man who was also attacked by the boar. Afterwards, you walked outside to see the men playing field hockey, which you played for a few years in high school. This was far more barbaric, and you could see Dougal taking his rage out on Jamie. He could cope in anger, but if you did this, you would be gutted.

 You wondered who would win in a fight and you had no doubt Jamie would win. When you saw Dougal on the ground, a young girl from one of your lessons tugged on your arm, “Well hello Molly dear, you enjoying the gathering?” There is no reason to take your rage on children, they didn’t do anything wrong. Honestly, teaching them defense things and survival tactics was the most time you felt at peace, well except when you were with – never mind that thought.

 “Aye mistress, very much,” you smile down at her, “I heard about your ill-wish and I know who made it. They did not know it was intended for you when they gave it to the girl.”

Guilt hit your chest again, someone was scared you were going to hurt them for being an accomplice. You were letting the harshness of one person hurt your relationship with the majority, “You know who put it under my bed?”

 “Aye mistress,” she whispered, “You wouldn’t be telling my mother, would you? She wouldn’t be wanting me to get into others business.”

 You bent down to her level, “Tell you what,” you pull out your coin bag with most of the money you made for yourself while staying here – your escape money, “I’ll tell your mother you helped me collect supplies for the gathering, which is why I paid you all this. And you tell me who put it under my bed?”

 “Mistress, I don’t need your money. Girls aren’t allowed to learn the things you are teaching. You don’t deserve any ill-wishes. You’re lovely,” you smile up at her.

 You pass her the bag, “You’ve earned it dear, I keep my word. Give me the name and the money is yours.”

 “Laoghaire,” she whispered. You shot up, looking around completely shocked.

 “Alrighty lass,” you pat her on the shoulder, “If you don’t mind, I have business to take care of.”

 “Be careful, please,” she urged after you.

 You had a hyper focus again, you intended to kick her ass, like you reported. And you found her socializing where most of the clan put up tent for the gathering. You passed Murtagh and Jamie, taking off your sling bag off and your dagger from your waistband and handed it to one of them, “Murtagh, could you mind this for me?”

 “I’m not your errand boy, lass, and where you going that you won’t need this,” he questioned.

 “You’re a pretty face, Murtagh, you ask too many questions,” you sass to him, looking at your target. Jamie and him stopped leaning on a post, both putting their drinks down. They could clearly tell you mean business. “Hey, Laoghaire, you two faced, toxic bitch, I got your gift earlier and I would like show you my appreciation.”

 She had the audacity to give you a glare, before she realized she was in real danger. She started to step backwards, and the crowd started to grow around you as you moved closer to the girl, “Leave me alone, wench.”

 “Oh, you do have words now that you can use. I thought you might be too stupid to speak up and say something since you chose to instead use this voodoo bullshit to get at me. You want to bring me pain lady, let’s go at it,” you finally were within three feet of her. Before you could make a grab at her, she ran in another direction.

 You were about to put your running skills to work, when Murtagh gripped your arm, “Come on lass, you made your point let’s get you back to the surgery.”

 “You know what, I’m a little busy right now. But I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few, we can have some tea to cleanse our spirit, la de da and all,” you keep her in your eye sights. You were about to start your chase when you were tossed over a shoulder. Murtagh was carrying you back as you banged on his back. You were mad in this moment because you gave your dagger away to this meathead or he would have suffered from a few, no lethal jabs. He dropped you in the surgery room, “Damn it, Murtagh what the hell is wrong with you?”

 “With me, you were about to put a big target on your back. You’re a guest here lass, they don’t take too kindly to guests attacking one of their kin,” he leaned against the counter.

 You started to cry, and you usually do not cry, “Does it mean nothing I didn’t start it? Her action deserves a consequence. I watch all men here fight over nothing and here I am fighting against an injustice and my life is at danger. Do I not matter to anyone where? Should I just go to the tallest tower and jump?”

 “Don’t be so dramatic, an ill wish is nothing,” he urged to you. He didn’t seem too phased by the fact you were crying, though he did soften his voice to show sympathy, “I know you don’t believe any of nonsense. You are a smart woman.” You started to toss things about the surgery, organizing all the stuff you brought out for the hunt. Murtagh walked over to you and stopped you by gripping the top of both your arms, “Y/N, you matter more than you know. Stop this behavior, you’ll get accustomed.”

 “Murtagh, why do I always have to be the one to change? What do I have to do to feel like I belong here, how long will it take for people to believe I’m not an outsider?”

 He took a deep breath again, “I know it doesn’t seem it now and I don’t know how, but you do belong here. It’ll come in time. Until then, stop picking fights.”

 “Yes father,” you rolled your eyes, “Where is Jamie, I assume he has my bags and things?”

 “Aye, right now he is taken care of Laoghaire, so you needed be worrying about her anymore,” he said, making his way to the stairs.

 “Unless he has killed her and hid the body, I’ll keep to worry about her and her no good deeds, thank you,” you shouted at him. “And make sure Jamie brings back my things sooner rather than later.”

 And before Jamie could drop off your things, Dougal Mackenzie came down to share you would be journeying out to collect rent from the clan who wasn’t able to make it.

PART 11

 Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher @lovesanimals @bilesxbilinskixlahey

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 8

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2345

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

What Murtagh said and how he stared at you was quite unsettling, what could you possibly mean by a ‘woman’ taking care of Jamie? You were quite sure Laohaire was a woman and could take nice care of Jamie. That thought didn’t settle well either, but you couldn’t understand why. It felt like it was something you had buried deep in your soul, so deep you could only focus on getting back home to your family – Davy. When you were preparing for the gathering, you tried to think about what your brother was doing and whether he felt alone or abandoned. The guilt of your lack of fight or focus on getting home crept into your body and weighed you down.

Angus entered the surgery, “Lass, the festivities are about to be going, let’s make our way up.”

You nodded at him and started to walk up, “Do I look like I’ll fit in up there?”

“You’ll fit in plenty enough, enough for a colony lass,” he muttered to you. “Just stay out of trouble, I’ve got my mind on-.”

You rolled your eyes, putting your hand to stop in from continuing, “Angus, I get you want to find a lady and I promise to not get in the way. I still got a ton of work to do before tomorrow’s hunt. I do not plan to stay long, which is what I told Mrs. Fitz. The laird gave me a job, I intend to do well.”

“Just do as your told,” he pushed you forward. You fought every bone and muscle in your body not to thrash him about. No matter the effort, you could not win the trust of some of the people here Angus and Dougal included. You could only kill someone with kindness so much before you take someone’s throat out with your fists.

Mrs. Fitz passed by you, “You look lovely in that dress, my dear. I told you, now some man will come and sweep you up, though I’ll hate to see the day someone takes you from us.”

You could see Murtagh rolling his eyes, as you looked down at the people prepping from the oath ceremony. You bit the inside of your cheek, “Mrs. Fitz, I told you. I do not intend to marry, I have a family waiting for me back by Inverness. I’m just buying my time.”

“That reminds me, Gale Allister left your payment in the kitchen by the flour. Thought it was best she avoids the surgery with all your business getting ready for hunt,” she shared with you.

“Thank you Mrs. Fitz, I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” you half hugged her. You tried to ignore the suspicious look from Murtagh. You had been finding little chores and such to help the community here, as well earn money that will help foster your escape home. “Murtagh, where is Mister McTavish? I’d assume he’d be here for the oath taking.”

Murtagh glanced down at you, trying to avoid making too much eye contact with you, “Leave the man be right now. He’s best to be not seen during the swearing ceremony. I feel you’ve tortured the man enough for a life time.”

“What are you on about, I do not torture anyone?” Collum entered the room starting the ceremony with Dougal. It was actually quite beautiful, full of tradition, and honor.

“You’re torturing me right now, lass,” Murtagh grumbled under his breath.

Mrs. Fitz pinched Murtagh’s arm to shush him, “If they are all the same, I’m off to get more work done. Keep me posted Mrs. Fitz,” you kiss her cheek and skip away to your work space. Angus caught sight of you and followed, “Angus, I pinky swear I will not wonder away and get you in trouble with Dougal.”

He gripped her arm, “No, no, no – you have to stay up here until I find a lady-.”

“Too much Angus, too much,” you stopped him quickly. “Here,” you pass Angus a necklace given to you by your mother, “This is my necklace given to me by mom before she died.” Angus looked immediately concerned you were going to get emotional, “As long as you hold that necklace, I’m not going anywhere. Go enjoy the gathering.”

He looked at the necklace in his hand to you, “You sneak off girl, I’ll gut you. Stay in the surgery, no wandering off like you like to.”

You put your two fingers up like you were a scout. Angus gave you a strange look before motioning you down to the surgery, “Angus,” you called to him, he looked back at you quickly, “You lose that, I promise no laird will stop me from taking your balls.”

He waved you off, laughing to himself, “A lady with a mouth like yours.”

You were only partially concerned Angus would lose your necklace. You had made your way to the surgery, but stopped on the last stair. You had already prepared for the hunt with your materials and such. You didn’t want to stay at the ceremony because it made you think of your past with the Marines and your brother with your traditions. Davy would be so impressed by seeing some of his heritage. He would probably love this whole experience. Think of the hunt the next day, you grew sick and worried. You were never a hunter; you had a soft spots for most animals. You had trouble killing spiders, though your history with war was quite the contradiction. Your brother constantly made fun of you for it. The thought of animals made you think of your horse. Your promised Angus you would stay put, but it’s not like you planned to escape. You just wanted to drop off your medical supplies and check on your horse. The stable hand made it seem like your horse wasn’t part of the elite, which made you like her more.

On the way to the stables, you used your military expertise to get past the men. You didn’t need Angus to find out you lied to him. A few drunken clansmen tried to take advantage of you being an alone woman. This immediately made you pissed for the lady folk in the area, the amount of women who had to be assaulted made you sick. One guy had gotten a swipe at you and your lip was bleeding. You made it to the stables, nursing your lip. You were going to take your time getting back to the surgery, this was probably the safest place for you outside your surgery space. Lost in your thoughts of consequences, you tripped over a mass. You rolled onto your back with a knife in hand, pressing it to the neck of a person and they were doing the same to you, “Deoiridh.” Jamie immediately released you, sitting up to give you space, “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask the same to you, sir,” you shot back at him. Your temper was rising with the amount of times you had to keep your guide up during this time period. Jamie stared at you a little longer than you liked, he was hoping for a better answer, “I was checking on my horse for the hunt. I have a soft spot for her and I wanted to drop off my stuff now, so I wouldn’t have to have hungover Angus complaining in the morning.”

Jamie chuckled to himself, “Thoughtful lass.” He paused for a second, “Y/N, you alright?” He put his hand up, leaning in closer to get a look at your bleeding lip, “Did that just happen,” he asked with guilt seeping off his voice.

He took out some cloth and tried to dab at your lip, “I had an issue coming over here with some clansmen,” you mumbled, trying to find the right words. You didn’t need Jamie telling Collum of your violent assault to some of their men. You didn’t kill them, but they will probably be concussed and be missing the hunt the next day.

He shot up, “Did they,” he pulled you up to closer inspect you.

You pushed him back gently, “No, no.” You hesitated and tried to figure out the best way to share it with him, “I knocked them out before anything could happen.”

Jamie’s laugh filled the room, finally dulling down to lean against the horses pen, “You’re a deadly woman Deoiridh. I’ve seen you teaching some stuff to the kids, but I didn’t think you could take out Mackenzie men without more than a busted lip. You sure your alright,” he tried to cup you neck again to look closer at your lip.

His hands were rough, but it a way you’ve never felt. It was like your body was on fire, but wanting to crave more it. Electricity surges your body, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’ve had plenty worse.”

“These men are lucky you got to them first,” he said trying to relax his jaw. You should tell a piece of him was bothered by you being attacked. Something inside him wanted to crash out of the stables and slaughter the men who would do such damage to his friend, at least that’s what you were telling yourself.

“Murtagh mentioned you weren’t going to the ceremony for the gathering,” you reached into your bag, “I was going to stop by your hut, residence place,” you weren’t sure what to call his little bed area. You passed him some food from the kitchen.

He shook his head, “Again with the thoughtfulness, you seem to care an awful lot about my wellbeing.”

“Shut up,” you shove him as he laughs at you. You could see he was trying to get a raise out of you since you pushed him to talk to Laoghaire, “You’re my friend Jamie. You were the first one who was nice to me here, well before you tossed me over your shoulder and proceeded to act like chauvinistic tool.”

He grinned at you, “Well, you are probably the most unique, thoughtful, and caring women I know. Besides when you are prodding me and calling me mean names.” He put the bag of food down next to his makeshift bed, “We should get you back to the castle, I bet Angus won’t be taken to kindly to your journey to the stables.”

“I can get back on my own. Murtagh told me to leave you alone, something about the ceremony, which is none of my business,” you mumbled away, trying to push whatever you are feeling way down. “I took down three clansmen and you, I think I can get back on my own,” you look down at Jamie sitting on the ground.

He pulled himself up towering over you, “Me,” he questioned, “I think I’d remember you taking me anywhere,” he pulled your shawl tighter to your body. “Now let’s go, me walking you back is not up for debate.”

You rolled your eyes and jogged up next to him, “Suit yourself, but Murtagh doesn’t like me enough as it is. If you get caught or whatever, I’m not to blame you tell him that.”

Jamie stopped you at the door, leaning in close to your face to whisper, “Murtagh likes you plenty, believe me if he didn’t like you he’d ignore you. Now let’s go before you get me caught.”

“Jamie,” you whispered harshly, holding tightly on the back of his shirt waddling after him. With your face slightly pressed to his back as you both giggled out the stables, there was something about his smell. You’d assumed he’d smell like most rotting, sweating men. Being in the marines and being in the desert for long periods of time, you were pretty much used to it. But it was different with Jamie, your psychology background pushed towards his manly man pheromones. You pushed those thoughts away and tipped toed with Jamie through the McKenzie camp. You and Jamie got back to your work space without Angus knowing any different. You stood at the bottom of your stairs, looking up at the now ever more towering Jamie, who was grinning down at you, “Do you think you can get back without being caught, remember what I said about Murtagh, you wanted me to be nice and make friends?”

He looked down, trying to hold back his amused expression, “Yeah, I think I’ll manage.”

“When are you going to tell me why you are avoiding being seen during the gathering, aren’t they your family,” you questioned, trying to change the subject to something less flirty.

“It’s a bit complicated, maybe one day I’ll tell you. But for now, I’m off before I get you into trouble with Murtagh. You should go up and spend some time with the clan, it might be worth learning a bit more,” he gestured up the stair. He leaned closer again, “Maybe you can butter up Murtagh, get on his sweet side.”

“What sweet side,” you countered. Jamie shook his head, trying his best to not be amused by you, “Plus, I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. He isn’t really my type.”

The look he gave you in that moment was something you rarely got to see in men, “What exactly is your type.”

“Not a dumb brute really, I’m not a picky woman,” you shrug walking further away from Jamie’s glances.

“That I don’t believe for a second. Try to stay out of trouble, hate you save you from Angus again,” Jamie started to make his way up the stairs.

“Jamie,” you call up to him, he turns to look at you one more time before he gets on his way to his hide away, “I never need saving.” Again, he held back a smirk, before trying back up the stairs again. You didn’t know how he did it, but you got to you again with those stupid hidden smiles and teasing. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get a rise out of you.  

Part 9

 Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 7

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Message me if you’d like to be added to a taglist!

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1500

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

The following day I was nursing a hangover when Dougal came down to see me, “Thought you’d like to go to town and meet with Geillis Dunkin to stock up on herbs and such for the gathering.”

“Dougal, I’m not a healer, not like that,” you said to him, feeling flustered and irritated.

“You helped Collum, you healed the boy from getting too sick with some water and vomiting. You’re plenty a healer that we need,” he directed back to you.

You shake your head, “That’s just a bit of luck and experience. There will be a ton of things I’ll know nothing about,” you tried to change his mind. “I can help with teaching defense and battle skills, not healing.”

His laugh shot through your body like boiling water through your veins, “A woman, we won’t be needing your help there. You’ll do as your told.” Before you could respond with another comment, “I’ll be back to pick you up soon, you can learn from Mistress Duncan about the herbs.”

When you trotted away, you stomped your foot harshly to the ground. This wasn’t going to your plan; you were not ready for this type of responsibility. You had only been talking to the boys during a lesson of sword play. They were discussing eating something strange, like a fungus. You got lucky with caution, they could have just eaten a regular mushroom and been just fine. You instructed them to vomit and flush with fluid. And the fact that women have no word or rights here was starting to grill you.

Collum took you to Geillis, she was quite the intriguing character. You didn’t trust her and her motives, which made you not particularly like her. She had a ton of helpful information and a good resource for future healing, “You’re a strange woman, Mistress O’Mulligian.”

“Y/N,” you corrected her, “Please.” You moseyed around the room, “I could say the same about you, dear. A woman of your beauty and charm, I expect you to be a lady of some fortune or what not.”

“You humble me, Y/N,” Geillis said to you, “A mystery you are, indeed.”

A commotion outside took my attention, “What’s this,” Geillis walked over to you to look at the window. She explained how the boy had most likely stolen something and will be punished with the loss of his hand, “Barbaric, he is a child.”

“Do you not have punishment where you are from,” she questioned you with a smirk. You remained quiet as she watched you. Before she could grill you more, her husband came up, looking for more remedies to his constipation you guessed. He was farting up a storm while sharing of the incident.

You cannot control the roll of your eyes, “He is a child, probably starving, maybe younger family members starving. He clearly is poor,” you said still looking out the window at the child.

“Get out,” he huffed, essentially ignoring my words to him.

Geillis smirked at you, before turning her charm onto her man. You watched as she manipulated her husband by using her sex appeal and doe like nature. And just like that, the boys lost hand was nothing but a forethought. Geillis smirked at you, watching you like she was trying to uncover all your mystery. After an hour of chatting and teaching you a bit more about medicine, Jamie popped in. You shot up, trying to fix your hair, and looking shy at this unexpected guest.

Jamie greeted you both, “Collum got called off and asked for me to take you home.”

“I could have managed on my own,” you answered.

Geillis caught on, “A woman travelling alone these parts, a colonist woman,” she laughed, “Unlikely, you are a mystery girl. What do you think Mister McTavish, don’t you think she is a bit strange?”

Jamie looked down, laughing a little, “Different, but not strange. You ready to go Mistress O’Mulligain.”

“I am,” you turned to Geillis, “Thank you for everything, I really cherish your help.”

“Of course, dear, I hope to see you soon. I’ve love to pick apart some of this mystery,” she smiled back. Something about that smile sent shivers down your spine.

Jamie followed you out, carrying your bags for you. You saw the boy, “When is he to be released?”

Jamie caught sight of what grabbed your attention, “Whenever he feels like it, he just has to release himself.”

You spin around, have him bump into your chest. He gripped your arm with his free hand to steady you more, “He has to pull off his ear.”

“Could be his hand,” he shot back at you, “He’ll do it when he is ready.” You didn’t move, giving him a special stare, “You want me to do something, I know that look.”

“He is just a boy,” Jamie looked at you with a soften look, knowing he had already loss his battle. “I have pretty strong fingers, you cause a distraction, like a little fire or something.”

He looked from the boy to you again, “A fire, Deoiridh, why don’t you fake a fright and fall, and I’ll release the boy.”

You lightly slap Jamie’s cheeks repeatedly with a grin, trying to tease him, “You are a smart man Mister McTavish. Smarter than I gave you before.”

He rolled his eyes, “Nay, I’m a foolish man,” he started for the boy. And it all played by smoothly, my fainting and him rescuing the boy unnoticed. By the time, I began to stand Jamie was taking hold of me and guiding me to the horse, “Let’s keep to these things as little as possible. I don’t need the attention and neither do you, Deoiridh.”

Jamie helped you onto your horse, feeling his grip on your hips, you tried to push past the fluster. On the peaceful journey back you turned to Jamie, “Deoiridh,” he looked at you, giving you a curious glance, “I imagine it’s Gaelic and you shared it’s a nickname that befits me, but what does it mean?”

“It loses something in translation,” he said to you.

“Go on with it Jamie,” you urge him to continue, “I’m not easily offended.”

He huffed out, “It means something of a pilgrim woman, a traveler with big bright eyes that could see into, well can just see things people cannot. Fearless little woman,” he said to you. “Just something about you, feels right for a nickname,” he finished looking down the path instead of you.

“It’s sweet, thank you,” you glance at him before clearing your throat and continuing onto the castle. Jamie was sweet enough to show you around the area, showing you bits of his childhood. He made you laugh and taught you things you never knew about. It was nice and if you had ever actually had a crush before, you would imagine it would feel like this.

He helped you down from your horse and started to help you carry some of your bags to your new workspace. You caught eye with Laoghaire, she was looking at you and Jamie. This shot you into reality, Jamie was just a thought, an unrealistic dream. “So Y/N, I was thinking before the gathering, I was hoping to take you-.”

You hollered for Murtagh, shocking Jamie from mid-speech, “What do you want woman?”

“Can you help me get this stuff to my healing room,” you hesitated not knowing what to call it.

Murtagh looked from you to Jamie, “Seems young Jamie’s got it figured out.”

“Jamie hands are full with something else,” Jamie looked at your confused, “I think Laoghaire would like to talk to you.”

“Y/N, I’m-,” Jamie tried to interrupt you.

“Nope,” you shook your head, passing your bags to Murtagh, who looked annoyed and unamused, “I don’t want you to waste any more time with me, go,” you gestured towards the girl not so subtly looking in our direction.

He looked like he was about to argue, but you stop him again, “I need to get to know Murtagh anyway, you told me I should start being nicer to him.”

“This is nicer,” Murtagh questioned.

“Alright,” Jamie tossed up his hands, “Good luck with the Lass.”

You and Murtagh started to move to your workspace, “What do you think you’re doing,” he whispered harshly to you.

“Getting ready for the gathering,” you answered with charm, “I took you for a more intelligent man Murtagh.”

“Don’t play dumb, girl,” he moved in front of you, “I mean with Jamie, your playing your games. You’re going to get him in trouble with all your messing around.”

Not letting yourself think too much about it, you walked around him ignoring what he was saying, “I’m not doing anything, I’m introducing him to a girl that likes him.”

“Miss, he doesn’t need a girl like Laohaire,” he sulked after you.

“What’s wrong with her, she is clearly interested in Jamie, she’s beautiful, and I imagine he’ll want to marry one day,” you continued, trying to avoid the feeling of jealousy.

Murtagh tossed down your bags, “You’re right about that, but Laohaire is a lassie and she’ll always be a lassie. Jamie needs a woman to be taking care of him and he her,” he said, “Stop with your meddling before you get him killed.” You stared after him, what was that supposed to mean when he said Jamie needs a woman.

PART 8

Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 6

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Sorry I’ve been away, I’ve been trying to get some balance and perspective. I’m hoping to come back swinging. Thanks for everyone’s supports, it makes it a real pleasure to continue to write. 

Oh, at this point is when it might start slowly deviating from the tv show. 

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2300 (long!!!!)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

Jamie was making his way towards the kitchen, thankfully you subtly slipped out, and found your way to the pair as Murtagh whispered harsh words to Jamie. You didn’t even look at Jamie, “This way,” you whispered harshly.

You led the gentleman to the space Mrs. Fitz showed you, where you were studying and trying to understand as much as you could about medicine. “Try not to hurt the man, lass, I think you’ve given him enough trouble,” Murtagh shared as he helped Jamie to the seat.

Looking him straight in the eye, stone faced, “Next time you think I’ll want your thoughts Murtagh, I’ll be sure enough ask for it.”

It was obvious he was doing his best not to growl or yell at you, “Watch yourself, she’s wee sized, but she’ll find you weak spot and have you on the ground real fast.”

“I expect minimum talking from you, sir,” you look around Murtagh to Jamie. He was biting back a smirk, “You are quite the barbarians, you know, fits and all.”

“Are men in the colonies babes, do they not know how to be a real man,” Murtagh questioned you again. Shooting him another glare, he quickly shut up, “Jamie, I’ll leave you with the woman. Best of luck.”

“Goodbye Murtagh, miss you already,” you wave at him. Jamie watched you in amazement, shaking his head at your antics. You shrug, “I think I’m growing on him.”

He still held his arm as you passed him something to drink, “Watch yourself, Deoiridh, Murtagh is a good man, but not all men are as nice as him.”

You were mixing some stuff you learned could be good for healing and inflammation, while pointing back at the door, “That man, nice? Where,” you question again.

He shook his head, “Trust me.”

“Sure,” he said.

You started to work on his face, trying to be as gentle as possible. He did do something quite honorable for a young woman, “Why did you do that, I could have handled it,” you whispered trying to focus on his face.

“I understand you are not familiar with our ways, but for an unmarried woman and a stranger,” he said while trying to make eye contact awkwardly, “like yourself, it would have brought you shame. I’m sore, but not really damaged. I would have done the same thing for the girl if you hadn’t stepped in. And the Mackenzie’s don’t much mind for outsiders getting into their affairs.”

“I don’t care what people think of me,” you answered back, “And I’m here, I exist in their affairs.”

He grabbed your hand to stop you, “I don’t know much about you Y/N, but I know I couldn’t sit and watch,” he was stopped my Mrs. Fitz coming in with somethings for Jamie.

“What you did was kindly meant lad,” she said to him, nearly crying. A part of you broke inside seeing her this upset. It melted your anger down to almost nothing. Jamie had let go of your hand, thanking Mrs. Fitz.

“Do me a favor, don’t get into any more fights. You’ve got a few days before this arm fully heals and I already have enough things to do than mend your ailments, sir,” you turn away to start cleaning up things around you.

“You seem to be quite the busy woman,” he said, standing up to look down at you.

Stopping to look up at his smirk. He was aware that his touch and close proximity was affecting your mood, “Yeah, so busy I might not be able to deal with you. If I don’t see you in two days, you should remove your bandages,” you answered him, not looking him in the eyes again.

“I’m sure I can manage,” he smirked some more. He stopped your fidgeting and avoidance maneuvers with hands by gripping your arm and forcing you to look at him, “But I’d sure not mind seeing you if you do find the time.”

A clank caught your attention, Mrs. Fitz’s granddaughter stood waiting an audience with Jamie, “Seems you have someone waiting to thank you,” you pull back from his grip.

“So it does,” he looked in her direction.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say pulling a few things of yours into your arms. You took a step towards the entrance, before turning back to him, “Oh, by the way, your charm doesn’t work on me Jamie. I’m still plenty mad at you,” and you swung back around, hearing his chuckle from his breath.

  The way Jamie made you feel unease, an unfamiliar feeling, you found it easy to force yourself to avoid him. Jamie was right about something; you were a stranger. Collum and Dougal were both suspicious of you, so you tried to find ways to get them to trust you. You had spent some time thinking about finding a way back to the rocks, but you were far from identifying a detailed plan.

In the trying to gain trust of the community, outside of educating yourself about potential, but sketchy ways of healing people and creating medical notes for your own survival experiences with your outdoorsy brother and the military.

You gravitated to the children and the woman of the people. Often you were showing the children how to better their fighting skills and how to create weapons, especially the girls. With the women, you peaked some of the more progressive women to learn some self-defense and battle strategy, but mostly you tried to educate them in how to read people.  The one day, you made Mrs. Fitz laugh by predicting Angus tripping over the wood by the fire and deciding to drink to help his wounded pride, “Hope you’re not a witch,” she laughed.

“Mrs. Fitz, I’m just good with people. Witchcraft is something that takes much more strategy and imagination,” you grinned at her, before passing Angus another cup of mead caused Mrs. Fitz to laugh again.

Outside of trying to educate the community in swords play and self defense, you have gotten closer to Collum. He clearly was suspicious, and he relied too heavily on you when it came to medicine and healing. Often it made you think of your brother, he could heal nearly anything from anywhere. You remembered how your brother helped a puppy left in the woods to die because it’s inability to walk on its own. Some of the small gestures he did to help the puppy, like massaging its legs and back. You thought of this when Collum called you to help ease the pain of his legs. You were just lucky that what your brother taught you work. Human bodies and nakedness didn’t make you uncomfortable, especially when regarding science and medicine. It was nice to have a purpose and learn something new.

With yourself getting comfortable didn’t mean there were not difficulties. Unfortunately, that came with the unease of being a woman from the 21st century in an era of no women’s rights. You got shouted at for just wanting to wear a pair of pants. And quite a few gentlemen enjoyed the fact that you were an unmarried woman, which made you incredibly uncomfortable when they sought your affection or attention.

At this current moment, you found yourself getting ‘the lean’ from Dougal, “You seem to be finding yourself a home here.”

“Of course, but not too comfortable,” you mumbled to him, drinking some of the rhenish. You never quite got the hang of drinking, but during these uncomfortable times it was making it easier to cope.

He nodded, “Right, you’re waiting for news from your brother. Collum mentioned you tried to send word for him at the colonies.”

Looking anywhere but at him, you tried to pull yourself from this situation, “Yes, I hope to hear back from him.” You paused to choose your words wisely, “I’m going to try to get closer, excuse me.”

You sit on a bench away from the wandering eyes and whispers of the hall. Mrs. Fitz’s granddaughter sat next to me, “Hello, I’m Y/N O’Mulligain your grandmother talks very highly of you.”

She sent you a smile, leaning in to whisper back, “Laoghaire Mackenzie, I never got to thank you for trying to-.”

You stopped her with a wave, “No, no need,” you both looked towards a figure entering the hall, “That’s the man who gets all the thanks.”

“Yeah,” she gushed in a whisper, “I just wish he had eyes for me.”

Jamie made eye contact with you, making his way in your direction, “He is quite the charmer, Mr. Mactavish.” You look back at her, “He’d be stupid not to like you, you’re quite beautiful.”

Jamie interrupted your conversation by sitting in between the both of you. He greeted you both before turning his attention to the musician who started to play. You had done such a good job avoiding your feelings of hatred, annoyance, and something else with Jamie. And because Laoghaire sat next to you, you were stuck with him sitting next to you.  You leaned forward, continuing to drink your rhenish. It was quite beautiful, if only you could understand what he was saying, “Do you not like the music Miss O’Mulligian,” Jamie asked you, trying to read your facial expression.

You leaned back, “Oh no, it’s truly lovely. I just focusing on the words, wish I knew what the song was about.” There might have been other motivations to looked focused and uncomfortable, but it was mostly true.

Jamie started to explain a little about the musician when Laoghaire tried to prompt Jamie to talk to her about their past, “No, I don’t think so. Still, I wouldn’t be likely too.”

You glared at Jamie for being so dense, “But look at her now, quite the enchanting young woman,” you point to her.

He glanced at her, “Aye, she’s bonnie.”

Eventually you got quite focused on the music, sighing, and holding your hand to your face in amazement. You couldn’t quite hammer out why you were acting so strange, besides the point that you could feel the tension from Laoghaire and Jamie’s presence next to you, “That Collum’s rhenish?”

“Sure is,” than it started to hit you. It was quite easy to drink, but it was starting to get to your head, “I think this is my second, maybe my third, but I’m fairly sure my second. Would you like it,” you offered it to Jamie, trying not to laugh at the awkwardness you were feeling.

“Most people wouldn’t be standing by their second,” he took it from your hands. When the song finished, you struggled not to roar with applause and shout like you were at a hockey game. Jamie stopped you before the next song started, “Miss O’Mulligian, remember discussing the bandage it’s been bothering me, would you mind taking a look at it,” his whispered.

You leaned back in shock, “You can’t be serious, right now,” you question. He nods, “Fine, but if I never get to see this guy play again. It’s your ass Mr. Mactavish,” you mockingly say his name. You get up and make your way to your workspace, trying not to grumble with annoyance. You put most of your focus on the walk to your work area, though for some reason it was not as easy as you remember. Thankfully Jamie was leading the way, which made you remember the time he tossed you over his shoulder. Before you could complete that thought, you were there, “Let’s see it,” you point to him to have a seat on the table.

“I don’t need your help,” he grinned at you, “I thought it was best to get you back to the surgery while you can stand.”

You lean against the table, letting a laugh out, “Oh,” you answered him, “You think I’m inebriated, you might be right,” you chucked again, “I thought about jumping on your back on the way down here and making you carry me.”

“You can hold your own,” he said, stepping towards you to lean against the table with you, “But thought it’d be best to be safe.”

“Thank you,” you knew he was right and that it’d be best to get to safe place before you made a fool of yourself. You glance at him gain with your heavy eyes, “Surprised you haven’t moved the bandage.”

Sending you another smile, “Scared about what you might do.”

“Smart man,” you answered back, “While you’re here, let me look at it,” you spun to look at him. He didn’t much move, he just gazed at you as you undid his shirt. You felt like you were suddenly on fire and with the alcohol is was become harder to fight the urge and attraction to Jamie, “You should pay more mind to Laoghaire, she like you.”

“Aye, she is a nice girl,” he said as he watched you maneuver around his clothing and bandage, “Why do you mention it.”

Ignoring his questions, “It looks just about right,” you cover it up again, “I’d say in a few days you can remove all this.”

“As you say,” he took a step back, cutting a smirk away, “I didn’t realize you cared so much about my affairs Miss O’Mulligian”

You rolled your eyes and stomped a foot as you walked around the table to get your things in order before you go to sleep, “I feel for the girl Mister Mactavish. It has very little to do with you.”

He looked towards the door, then back at you, “Right lass, if that’s the case. I’ll be off. Good night Miss O’Mulligian.”

Part 7

Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 4

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1125

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

**Note: I do not own any characters, except reader. Clearly this is based off the lovely book series/tv show Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang. I’ll take any or all critiques or concerns from anyone. I clearly do not own any of Outlander’s characters. I didn’t want to use Sassenach because the Reader is from the States, which I wasn’t sure would add up to be English. I did some research in nicknames and came up with Deoiridh, which means Pilgrim woman. I think it fits because in a lot of definitions I find it’s about a traveling woman who is up for adventure and is often sunny. If you don’t like it, I’m sorry and replace it as Sassenach.

               Getting to the castle, you saw the village bustling around, it was quite mesmerizing. A group of people started to greet the returning members with laughter and banter. You have never witnessed something so simple and genuine with a group this size. A lady approached you, looking at you oddly. Jamie stepped in, “Y/N O’Mulligain, Mistress Fitzgibbons.” Jamie explained your situation, while she looked you up and down to size your trust level.

This woman looked like a sincere, caring soul. You tried to make yourself look as innocent as possible. She gripped onto you and lead you away to find you some appropriate clothing and food. You paused for a second looking back at Jamie, the woman looked at you annoyed, “Pardon me, Mistress, but do you have a healer?”

“Are you injured girl,” she asked, looking you over.

“Not physically,” you say, looking back to Jamie, “He got shot yesterday and someone should look at it.”

She looked back to Jamie, “That true, Jamie?”

“Aye, but it’s fine,” he said, glaring at you.

Rolling your eyes again, “It is not fine. It’ll get bad, you can die,” you pause trying to find the right words to make them understand what could happen to him, “I did something with it and it was fine for a little, but he needs clean bandages.”

She motioned for Jamie to follow, “We don’t have a healer right now, Y/N, but are you a charmer?”

Shaking your head, “Not really, I only know minor things from my brother and my time with,” you paused to find the right phrases, “battles from the colonies.”

“I can get you some things you need, just follow me,” she smiled.

You weren’t entirely sure if it was obvious to them, but you were incredibly uncomfortable in this situation. You didn’t know much about the healing stuff from this age and this area, but more importantly you were uncomfortable around a man specimen like Jamie. You had trouble swallowing and breathing as Mistress Fitzgibbons explained some of the stuff to you. You did your best to nod along, taking in what she was saying. Jamie was nearly shirtless and sitting calmly in front of you. The books had something right, he was breath taking physically, but not nearly as charming as Mr. Darcy. Mistress Fitzgibbons took her leave, leaving you and Jaime alone to take care of his wound. You sent good vibes out to the universe, hoping not to kill him. You took away the bandages and looked around his back and stopped breathing. Jamie must have sensed your tension because he also grew tense, “Red coats, they flogged me twice.” After that you tried your best to listen to his story, but you had trouble grasping onto the fact they flog people, and this is what it looked like. You stopped yourself from tracing the scar tissue, you’ve seen some pretty awful scaring, but this was more personal.

You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, “That man, the Captain, he did this,” you questioned as you attended his wound, trying to be as gentle as possible. Whatever tension and anger you felt towards this man, you had trouble disliking him with the trauma he has been through.

“Aye,” Jamie shared and continued to share his rap sheet essentially. You had trouble believing he laws of the day and worried how you would handle this new change until you could get home. Women have come a long way during your time and now you’ve been shot to well before you were allowed to wear pants so casually.

He started to share about his sister and her attack from Captain Randall, you clenched your fist as you tightened the bandage. Jamie winced a bit, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You bent down to try to strap his arm closer to his chest, “That awful thing, I can’t imagine what your sister had to go through and you,” you try not to make eye contact with him. Your brother said you had a thing about emotions, feeling empathy too harshly that it sometimes got you into trouble, “I’m sorry that happened,” you whispered, trying not to get teary, “Try to keep the arm action to a minimum, so no sword fighting or tossing poor women over this shoulder,” you tried to joke.

He looked down at you, laughing at your comment before getting serious, “Thank you, Y/N. I know, we had ourselves a rocky go of it, but you’re a kind woman,” you looked up at him, becoming painfully aware how close you were to a nearly naked man, “I’m grateful for all you have done, Deoiridh.”

You met his eyes, getting caught up in the moment, almost losing your breath, “Deioridh?”

He smirked, “I think it’s a nickname that befits you,” he almost looked like he leaned down more, but you shot up, looking away.

You suddenly felt overwhelmed and over stimulated with everything happening. Jamie stood up, “I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step towards you, “I didn’t mean-.”

You put your hand out, “No, no it’s not,” you shake your head, thinking you sound crazy, “don’t apologize. I’m just,” you felt flustered and couldn’t find the right words, “I’m just scared and everything is so different from what I know. And my brother,” you whispered. It all finally hit you, you didn’t have much, but you did have your brother. You were all he had left and now you were gone away from him. You held you breath, taking a seat again. You were not going to cry in front of anyone, you never liked being vulnerable. Jamie knelt in front of you, looking into your eyes as he pushed some hair out of your face, “You needed be scared, nothing will ever happen to you,” he tried to convince you of your safety, “As long as I’m on this land.”

This caused you to pause, “What do you mean?”

“You’re a stranger in these parts and even from the colonies, you��re still seen as British. You’re not looked upon very kindly, remember that,” you nodded, letting out a slow breath. Jamie stood up, walking to collect his things, “Get some rest, you’re worn out. I reckon someone will be by to talk to you.”

You nod, watching Jamie’s movements towards the door, “Watch that arm, I don’t have the time to always be taking care of you.”

A chuckle left his chest, “I’ll do my best,” he looked back before closing the door, “You’re going to be alright.”

You took your shoes off, took down your hair, and climbed into bed. You didn’t have much time to think because you quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

Part 5

Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 5

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2000

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

 You were woken up by a bolt, Mrs. Fitz barged in and woke you up. She had to you stripped into your nakedness, dressing you in appropriate garb, freezing you as she washed you up. She would make comments like, “You’ve got lovely hair and strong frame.” Or “you’ll make a lucky wife for some lad.”

You didn’t eye roll the comment because she was so extremely kind and lovely. Mostly you stayed quiet and listened to her speak about a gathering and how nice it is to have you to help with the injuries and ailments. You thought about the rocks and getting back to your time, where you were slightly less likely to die due to being an outspoken woman. You remember the woman from the rocks and what she said, “Enjoy your adventure, lass.” Your gut told you, you would get back there by fate or at least you could buy time to plan a better escape than something you could throw together in the next few days or even weeks.

You were waiting to be called to the laird, Mrs. Fitz guided you down to an area where you recognized as some medicine, healer space. You spent your time learning and reading from the books. If you were going to be convincing person with healing, you’ve got to read some stuff. You tried to go back into your memory searching for the information you learned from the states and some information you could read from the books. You were far from a medic in anyway. When you first met with the Laird, he was kind and didn’t question you as harshly as you thought he would, considering I was a stranger or a spy. The US government would not take too kindly to a stranger like myself in my time.

Most of the time you read up and explored the grounds and customs. You truly kept to yourself, trying to learn the best you could, especially considering you were not an expert level medic like your brother, he was the MacGyver doctor of the group. The first day you ate in the kitchen with Mrs. Fitz, trying to help around the kitchen. This seemed more manageable than medicine for now. The next day, your mind wondered to Jamie more so than the day before.

Honestly, it’s hard to keep the man out of your head. The first initial day my mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out how to survive in this time till I can find my way home. But now my interest in Jamie was more towards the fact that he felt like your only friend at this time and you didn’t want him to get sick and die of infection, “Mrs. Fitz,” she looked back at you after helping with breakfast, “Do you know where Jamie’s been, thought I would have seen him around more?”

“He spends his time by the stables, top of the meadow, towards the east, why?”

“I should look after his arm, change some of his bandages, and maybe I can bring him lunch,” you said, skeptically. Everything you said, you were cautious in offending the culture here. Honestly, it’s the way you felt when traveling around the world, always apologizing, and choosing to say nothing incase you offend something which you no nothing about.

She smiled at you, “Of course you do lass, I’ve seen you working down there. You’ll see the stuff you need over there.”

“Thank you, you are a true angel,” she continued to work as she smiled, “Oh I thought I might take some extra food for Dougal’s men who have been following me. Thought they might get hungry.”

Shaking her head, “Yeah, though your treating them much kinder than they have been treating you.”

Answering her comment with a smirk, you shrug, “You’re making it harder to want to be nice Mrs. Fitz.”

“You’ve got a kind soul dear, that’s all I’m saying,” she mused at you before shooing you away to complete your business, “Also Las, the laird will want you to join the feast tonight as his guest.”

This cautioned your step, this would be his time to question your motives – the good cop, “Yes Mrs. Fitz, I’d love too. I guess I’m done hiding in your kitchen.”

“That you are my dear,” she smiled at you before you trotted away to get some things you need.

 On your way over, you noticed your guard for the day. For the most part, you tried to ignore the pair. You would have done the same if you were in their shoes. You saw Jamie working a horse as it trots around him. It was strange to think of this time being so similar to how it’s still done today. Jamie had a glow to him, something you really couldn’t describe, not that you’d act on it. You’re not known to act on your attraction or even think about romantic feelings – you’re about everything else. Here was the first time since you were a teenager that you felt a spark of a crush added with a tad bit of annoyance.

It was unfortunate that you were so focused on Jamie’s glow that you trip on a divot in the ground and clobbered over making a strange noise of shock, some curses, and a clang from your basket. This spooked the horse, which nearly injured Jamie. You could hear his Gaelic curses before double taking the sight of you on the ground, “Dear me, I’m sorry,” you yelled in his direction, standing up on your knees trying to dust off your hands.

He tried to hold back his laughter, pulling his sling away from his body and bouncing over to help you up and gathered your things, “She’s just a girl with spirits, that’s all. It’s always a good thing. What can I do for you Y/N?”

“I haven’t seen you in the past day, thought I’d bring you some food and change those bandages,” you said to him, noticing how difficult it is to keep eye contact with him, especially with him holding your hand and you suddenly feeling shy again.

He nodded, looking around, “Let’s head over here, I suspect it’s going to rain soon.”

When he showed you where you were going, you both sat in silence as you checked his wound. It seemed to be healing nicely and that’s when the rain started, “I love the rain.”

“You’re in luck, you’ll be getting that a lot here,” he smirked at you, “Doesn’t it rain where you’re from?”

You continued to focus on wrapping back his wound in clean bandages and the conversation is making it easier to ignore your attraction towards him, “Of course, but I’ve travelled all over for a long time, so rain doesn’t always happen in some areas.”

“Aye, makes sense,” he said, “I imagine everything is healing nicely.”

You nod, as you pat his leg to say he could put his shirt fully back on. You started to lay out the food and you just watched him. You weren’t surprised how much he ate with out much work he had to be doing. Something sparked Jamie to tell you some tales of his times before this moment and you just listened. He told you about his family, especially in relation to his uncles, which made you understand it a bit more. This young man before you had been through his share of trauma and he still sits in front of you fully conscious and thriving. He was a wonder and refreshing. He didn’t hide anything; this was him take it or leave it. He started to get ready to start work again, “You didn’t have to tell me all that, you know. I could be a traitor, a spy even. Maybe I could get money for your head and run away from here.”

He chuckled, smirking down at you before squatting next to you, “That you could, Deoiridh,” he tapped your chin, “Guess I decided to trust ye instead.” He stood up, reaching his hand down to help you up as well, “Best be getting back to work. Thank you for bring me some food and taking care of this,” he touched his shoulder. You could see the stable hand heading in your direction, “You’re a good listener. Also, I hope you’ll start talking about yourself. You’re a mystery.”

You smirk, “Better to use to my advantage later, especially if you even try to pick me up like that again.”

Shaking his head, “I won’t make any promises,” he grinned at you before getting back to his work exchanging some words with a man he worked with.

 You passed by one of Dougal’s men, passing him a basket of food, “Come on good sir, let’s head back to the castle before you switch with Angus, you are far more charming.”

He was in shock and had to skip to catch up to you, taking a bite of an apple. For Dinner, you sat next to the laird being introduced to his family and endured his questions. He continued to try to get you to drink more or catch you in some sort of lie, but you remained calm and answered some of the storyline you have come up with over the past few days. Though he and Dougal didn’t seem convinced, you were in better footing already.

Over the next few days, you got to know the people. Dougal would watch you interact with the children and teaching some of the boys and girls how to fight properly with swords and fists. Medicine was becoming something you were doing your best to learn, but this was your expertise.

Besides that, you kept yourself small as possible until the night of the hall where people gathered to discuss disputes. You stood close to Mrs. Fitz and she translated some of the conflicts being bestowed in front of you. You heard a gasp next to you as Mrs. Fitz held onto your arm, “That’s my granddaughter.” She explained the best she could about what was being said.

“Punished,” you questioned, “She’s a young lady, a girl,” you say, “What would he have them do,” you questioned, trying to understand the barbaric concept. You looked at the pretty girl, noticing her delicate features and small frame. This girl could not take much punishment from what you could tell.

“Whipped,” you barley heard her whisper.

Without thinking you look at her and say, “Like hell.” You barged your way in the center, hearing nearly everyone gasp and a flame of anger hit both Mackenzie’s eyes, “Pardon me, my laird,” you didn’t understand a lot of the customs, but after talking to Mrs. Fitz and some of the children, you know some of the concepts of this ritual, “I don’t mean any disrespect, but I’m to understand I could volunteer to take the girls punishment.”

The father began to yell and get aggressive, you made eye contact with a desperate and scared Mrs. Fitz.

There is a giant pause and skepticism soared between the pair of gentlemen in front of you, “I’m trying my best to fit in here, as your guest, and it’s only fair that I show my respect for your people. This is but a young girl, I can volunteer myself, please.”

Dougal looked fairly enraged, but there was a different spark in Colum’s eyes. Before either of them could speak, Jamie spoke in Gaelic, something that made the crowd laugh, which you suspected to be at your expense. He spoke directly to the laird, which got interrupted by the father again. Dougal whispered something to Colum, “As I appreciate you trying to respect our culture Mistress O’Mulligain, I will ask you to have a sit back where you came.”

You were about to protest, particularly with Jamie’s injury, but the look he gave you told him not to push it. You wanted to be sick, as well kick the crap out of Jamie. You stood next to Mrs. Fitz, putting your arm around her shoulder, and holding her tight. Colum spoke directly to Jamie next, which I understood to show he accepted his terms.

It made you sick watching the cheap moves from his uncle’s lackey. You were bubbling so hot that steam was exploding out of your ears. You watched him limp way and you made your way to give him a piece of your mind.

PART 6

taglist: @doctorwhatwhenandwhere

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 3

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1500

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

               You were shocked, you couldn’t believe he just knocked you off the horse like that. It took you a second, just glancing around in the quiet. This was your chance to escape, find your way back to Inverness, “Good riddance.”

               Looking around, you laughed. Fuck that, you’re not some damsel waiting for a hero. Your getting out of here. You start to run in the opposite direction, hoping the hours you had fallen asleep will not ruin your sense of direction of where you must go. You had been running for about a half hour before you heard galloping. You didn’t take the time to look back, you ran faster and made adhesive maneuvers to get away. And when you felt you had the perfect position; you hid behind a tree. He had to think you went in a different direction by your maneuvers, “I’ve hunted pigs with better hiding skills than you,” he said from his horse. There was no point of hiding. You pulled yourself from behind the tree and he grinned down at you, “You lost your way?”

“You’re bleeding,” you looked at his disheveled appearance.

He was covered in blood and for a second, you had a flashback of when you were in the Marines, “Don’t concern yourself, it is not my own, at least not most of it anyway.”

               Shaking your head, “Believe me, I’m not concerned,” you answered back. “It’s just – never mind,” you half yell, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

               “Come on now, get on the horse – Dougal has some questions for you.” you turn your back to him, “You have to know you can’t outrun a horse,” he answered.

               “I’m not going with you,” you answered, “You can’t make me.” He jumped down presenting his sword, “What are you going to kill me if I refuse,” you answered, it’d make sense. This is how you’d die, a sword for being an opinionated, strong, and independent woman.

               “No, lass,” he answered, still pointing his sword at me, “But you don’t look that heavy, suppose I shall pick you up and throw you over my shoulder.”

               You laughed inside, who is this guy? Fat chance you’d let him do that. He was about the size of your brother, you could handle yourself with him. Jaime placed his sword away. This was going to be your chance, fight or flight. He was rather close to you, so you leaned in and whispered, “You’ll have to catch me first,” and you darted around him, striding through the woods.

               Jamie cursed and started to pursue me. You were quick and agile, you were going to get away and find your way back to those rocks. You turned to look back and couldn’t see or hear him. You thought you were in the clear, that was until you smashed into his chest. You fell backwards, landing pretty hard onto the ground, looking up at him, “Guess you’ll be coming with me,” he pulled your arm up, squatted, and tossed you over his shoulder, “The hard way it is,” he sounded amused.

               You started to kick and scream, but he didn’t seemed phased. After a minute, you realized it was moot. You just let him grab the horse and walk down the stream, “I hope this is hurting your shoulder. I might die with all the blood rushing to my head.”

               “It might have a quiet trip than,” he answered sounding far to amused.

               You could hear the voices of the rest of the man, “Look at Jamie,” someone laughed, “Seemed to have finally caught a wild beauty.”

               Everyone laughed and you just hissed at them. Your body met that ground when he dropped you. You shot up, looking at Jamie. How many times did you have to flop on the ground. You surely had whiplash. Jamie was amused with himself, you hit him in his bad shoulder. He groaned in pain, coughing, “Serves your right, jerk,” you pointed at him, “You should keep this beast on a leash,” you said to Dougal.

               “Get on the horse, we got to go,” Dougal said to Jamie, sending you a glare.

               “I’m not riding with that man,” you said to him, looking harshly at Jamie. He had just chased you and dropped you twice, fat chance of that.

               “You’ll do as you’ll told,” Dougal said.

               You chuckled under your breath, shaking your head, “See, wrong again, but I will ride with him,” you pointed to the boyish looking one in the group.

               Another man spoke up, “No, she’ll just knock him off his horse and ride away again.”

               “I give you my word, I won’t run away,” you answered, you understood time was important at this point. And honestly, you’ve been better off with these men then the British.

               “I believe her,” Jamie answered, “Let her ride with Jacob, less complaining for me,” he shot at you.

               You jabbed his shoulder again and he winced. It took a second to read his body language, before it hit you. He didn’t just have a sore shoulder. His clothing was still wet from blood. If this was another man’s blood, it would have started to dry and harden by now, “Stop hurting the man girl,” someone answered, “You put him through enough with your chatter.”

               “Are you completely daft,” you yell towards Jamie, charging towards him. He back away from you slightly, “You seriously were not going to tell someone you were shot?” Everyone looked at Jamie confused, “You are a pea brain, we could be riding along and you could just bleed out and die,” you started to raise your voice again. “These men risk everything to rescue you, for you to just to die before you can get home?”

               “Jamie,” one of the men said.

               “It’s nothing,” he answered.

               “Bullet wounds are not nothing,” you answered.

               “Shut up girl,” someone answered, “Dougal, we’ve got to make some distance between us and the redcoats.”

               “Can you help him,” Dougal asked.

               Shaking your head, “I’m not a healer, but,” you look down, “I can put some stuff together to stop him from bleeding out.”

               “We don’t have time,” he answered back, “We’ve got another days ride out. Do it quickly or we’ll all be dead.”

               Nodding, looking around, “Sit,” you commanded Jamie. You didn’t know much about medicine of today, but you knew the basics to survive in the wilderness. Heaven, you brother made you read his scout books of what ifs, “I’ll need alcohol and clean bandages.” Someone passed you a bottle, “Oh good, no bandages,” you started to look at his shoulder, “It went right through, you are lucky.”

               He nodded, watching you work, you put alcohol on it. Jamie winced, “Come on girl, we don’t have much time.”

               You rolled your eyes, looking down, you found the best thing to a bandage – your shirt. Pulling your jacket back, examining the cleanest part of the shirt. It was simply a basic cotton long sleeve. You ripped the midsection, “What are you doing,” Jamie questioned.

               “Saving you from bleeding and dying,” you answered, “You’re welcome.”

               “You’re just showing off your,” he questioned, looking at your showing mid drift.

               Shaking your head, starting your work on his shoulder, you didn’t let him finish, “I don’t care what people say about my attire. It’ a navel, it is my belly button. It’s not a nipple,” you shoot back. “We needed something to put pressure to the wound and stop the blood, so it can clot and heal safely.” He nodded slowly, “This is as good as it’ll get until we can get some real equipment.”

               “Alright, let’s go,” Dougal shouted, “Mistress, you’ll be riding with Jamie here. You’ll keep an eye on him and he’ll keep an eye on you.”

               “Peachy,” you mumble. You turn back to him, “Shall we,” you reach down and grab his hand, “I worked too hard to let you die now.”

               He laughed, “Thank you again, even if you called me daft.”

               “No seriously,” you said as he got on the horse, “A pea brain, dumb brute.”

               “Noted,” he said, helping pull you onto the horse. Jamie did his best to keep you warm again, especially with your lack of a midsection. You again were in your brain, plotting, making up lies, trying to remember anything from history about this place. It was also hard to focus with the rock-hard chest and pelvic bumps of the man behind you. You tried your best to not grind against him, trying to pull yourself against the handle of the saddle, but that didn’t last long.

PART 4

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 2

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1600

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

               “The firebird is broke, Davy,” you mumbled. Your brain was vibrating, your mind was whizzing about with voices and slight colors.

               There were voices all around you, “The lass is waking up,” someone said.

               “This isn’t just a bad dream,” you opened your eyes, the images of blurred bodies started to come clearer. Bunch of men were huddled around a little room. With the vision of kilts, you concluded they were the Scottish rebels the Captain was looking for, “Can you guys lower your voices, I believe I have a concussion and your ramblings are really not helping.”

               “Who are you,” someone questions.

               “What is a concussion?”

               “Where are we,” you said trying to completely understand your surroundings.

               “We ask the questions here,” another voice said, “What’s your name and where you from?”

               You were too exhausted to fight back and too confused to make clear arguments, your head was just fog, “Y/N O’Mulligain and the colonies,” it was all you could say.

               A nervous chuckle came over the group, “An Irish woman from colonies?” They were having trouble with the notion of an Irish person living in the colonies at this time. You were not sure of the facts, but having clear thoughts was a struggle at this point, “Why are you here?”

               You rubbed your head, trying not to chuckle at the realization of your current reality. You rolled your eyes, laughing while thinking of the woman you last saw before this moment, “Adventure.”

               “No,” someone yelled. You winced with the sound, “Ya should have seen the girl. She battled Captain Randall, she knocked him out. I’m not sure what she is, or who, but I bet my best shirt she isn’t a spy.”

               “It doesn’t matter,” another voice said, “Randall is going to be looking for us. We need to go, we need to get Jamie out of here before-.”

               Another voice spoke up, “Why don’t we leave the witch, Randall might want her more since she beat him? Slow him down.”

               “No,” another voice yelled, wincing. By the sound he was making, he was in some pain, “We are not about leaving another person to the British.”

               “Jamie, how bad is it? Can you ride,” your vision was coming to. I didn’t know the story of Outlander, but you got the guise this guy was the Jamie that supposedly was more dreamy than Mr. Darcy, which you knew was to be completely impossible.

               You still haven’t gotten your vision focused and the room was lit only by fire near the chimney, “Hurts sitting still, couldn’t manage a horse.”

               From what you could gauge, his shoulder was dislocated, “We got to put it back.”

               All the man group around this man, they were just going to pull his shoulder up with force. You started to laugh, “You are all so dumb,” you laughed again, with them all turning to you, “You’re going to be breaking the man’s arm like that.”

               You tried to stand, still using the chair for balancing, “What do you know of it? You a healer?”

               Shaking your head, “No, my brother used to get injured every other day. I had to learn how to take care of his countless injuries.”

You started to walk up to the man known as Jamie. When you saw him with fresh eyes you could feel your cheeks blush. He truly was a man fit to his description, what a Greek god. Everyone just looked at you in confusion and distrust, looking like they had no idea what you were saying, “May I,” I push into the group, asking the red head if it was alright to help him with this injury.

               He nodded, “This is going to hurt,” you hit one of the guys shoulders, pointing at this Jamie character, “You’ll need to hold him down.” The men steadied him, “Jamie is it,” you ask gently. He nodded quickly, “This is going to hurt, I mean really hurt.” He nodded understanding what had to be done, “I’ll go on the count of three.” He took a deep breathe, you moved his arm into the right place, “One,” before you could get to two you snapped it back in place.

               Jamie grunted, but instantly looked relieved, “Thought you said on three,” he looked up at you.

               “Just an old trick, I didn’t want you to be thinking of the pain,” you shrugged, rubbing your arms together as you crossed them, “I’m sorry,” looking down at you feet become instantly shy all over again. You not really good with strangers unless your professional life needed it. You whispered, “You just got to keep off the shoulder, massage, and heat will help. Does anyone have a belt or cloth?”

               The man in charged looked to another man and demanded a belt. You slipped it around his body trying not to get into your own brain about this situation. Not only were you out of your comfort zone, but you were out of anything you’ve ever known. Jamie nodded, watching you closely, “Let’s get the horses, we’ve got to go.”

               “I’ll let you guys go, I’ll just be on my way back,” you started, but your arm was grabbed and spun around.

               “You’re coming with us mistress, until we get some more answers.”

               “You aren’t the boss of me, mister,” you said back to him.

               “More like prisoner,” he answered, smiling, “Jamie, you’ll ride with the spy.”

               “I’m not a spy,” you yell back, “I’m just a woman, taking an innocent stroll through the very lovely forest of Scotland.”

               “A regular lady, in pants. Sure,” one guy laughed at you.

               The man in charged approached you, gripping your arm harshly. It took you ever once of your control not to swing around and smash him right in the jaw, “You stay close by us, try anything and I’ll slit your throat.” You stopped breathing for the second, “Come on, give me your foot,” the grumpy guy barked at me.

You gripped Jamie’s hand and mounted the horse, “Haven’t you ridden a horse,” he whispered after feeling your fidgeting.  You shook your head ‘no’ quickly. Being on this horse with this man felt so intimate and it didn’t help it was raining. You didn’t have much clothing for this weather, and you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. Jamie started to make motions from behind you, “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing,” you harshly whisper back to him.

“You’re shivering,” he stated, “Seeing if my plaid loose can help cover you lass.”

“I’m not cold, I’m from Pennsylvania we have harsher winters than this,” you said more to yourself than him, “This is just spritzing,” you motion to the rain.

“I’m not sure what any of that means, but,” he chuckled, his breath tickling your neck, “You are shaking so hard you’re making my teeth chatter,” he chuckled again, especially when you helped him wrap it around your waist.

Turning around, slightly bumping his shoulder you ask, “We are going to ride till sunrise?”

“Probably the next as well,” he grinned again.

You rolled your eyes, you had to start formulating a plan to get back to those damn rocks, and hoping they worked once again.

                 You woke to the sun beaming down, you were not sure when you fell asleep. The sun was up and shining, it was beautiful and felt so good to be out of the rain, “Sleep well,” Jamie asked something from behind.

               Forgetting he was almost there, you pulled forward. Honestly, his warm felt so nice, which is probably why you fell asleep so easily, “How long have I been sleeping?”

               Someone rode past, saying something in Gaelic and chuckling with the group. You proceeded to flip him off, which you instantly forgot they had no idea the gesture, “Just a few hours. You haven’t missed anything.”

               You nodded, looking around you. Scotland was for sure dense and you could walk for days and only see one person, but it felt weird to let your guard down. Redcoats were all about this area at this time and place, “Shouldn’t you be worrying about the British raids? I would imagine they’d be rustling about this area,” you said to him. He chuckled but didn’t answer. Your eyes were drawn to this rocky mountain in the distance, “That out there, it looks like a-?”

               “Back of a cock’s tail. Aye, Cocknammon Rock.”

               Turning to look back at him. You were trying to remember what your friend had said about the books and the show, “I am serious. Don’t you find it strange we haven’t heard anything from the redcoats?”

               He watched you carefully, not knowing where you were going with this conversation, “What do you mean?”

               Turning back to look at him better, “The locals know the area better than anyone, but still the redcoats catch outlaws and rob villagers,” he still looked confused. “That up there, that high point is most likely where some redcoats watch, for the vantage point of seeing travelers down here.”

               He looked down in thought for a second, before nodding, “That’s a bonnie place for an ambush right enough,” he quickened up to the front, “Dougal.”

               They started to speak in what you imagined to be Gaelic and you could imagine they were talking about how suspicious your account was and whether it could be good information or not. The man named Dougal leaned into whisper to you, “You’ll be telling me how you come to know there’s an ambush up ahead.”

               “I just do,” you answered quickly, “I have military experience and I’m telling you – the odds are high that there is an ambush ahead.”

               Staring deeply at you, “You’ll be explaining more when we get back?”

               “Get back? What do you-,” Dougal yelled something in Gaelic and you were met with the loss of my breath.

               Jamie looked down at you, “Hide and don’t be going far.”

PART 3 

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 1

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1900

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It has been a long time coming, you haven’t been on a real vacation since you graduated high school. You joined the Marines immediately, went into training and university. With you, it was always work, work, work. For you, it made sense since your brother was a Navy Seal and you both didn’t really have family. And you didn’t stay anywhere long enough to make super close friends to vacation with. But this trip, this was for you and only you.

               You got your degrees in psychology, battle strategies, and world cultures, but your true love was literature. You made it this far living a pretty isolated life because of your brother and your books. You generally just loved to read, so after leaving the Marines, before you started to find your new pathway you said you were going to take this vacation around Europe stopping in different places described or lived in by some of your favorite authors. Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Sir Doyle, Thomas Malory, etc. And it’s been amazing seeing all these places that inspired your idols, imagining how your favorite fictional characters lived.

               And here, alas you were in Scotland. Not necessarily because one of your favorite fictional characters lived here or your favorite author grew up near here, but because of your brother.  He wanted you to explore where you both came from, he felt it would help understand life before you both lost your parents. Plus, he was a huge history buff – it was his hobby outside the Seals.

               He told you all about the battles and culture amongst the decades before us. He told you about our Irish and Scottish ancestors. He’d tell you, you can’t have a name like Y/N O’Mulligain and not think of the Irish.

               There was this nearby village you were passing through. An author named Diana Gabaldon wrote a romance novel based on this rock formation. Your old college roommate wrote a thesis paper about historically accurate romance novels and pop culture. You thought, what the hell, since your here minus well check it out.

               It was strange at first, wondering through this supposed magical place. People clearly flocked here for Outlander’s popularity. You more enjoyed watching the people. You sat against a tree, pulled out a sandwich from your bag, and watched the middle age woman touch these rocks like they were the rock hard abs of a character from Outlander. It was quite amusing. You liked to think your mother would be doing the same thing if she were still alive.

               “You must not be a fan, girly,” you look up to an older woman, clearly Scottish from her accent.

               Shaking your head, standing up to shake her hand, “Is it that obvious,” you laugh, “I’m Y/N. Just a tourist, watching other tourist. That obvious hugh?”

               “Mary, deary,” she grinned answering you with her name while look up at you. You were about five three, but this woman had to be four feet something tall because she was tiny, “Just by the way you’re gazing all around, a girl looking for her own adventure, not through someone else’s eyes or story, but of your own.”

               “You get all that from just looking at me,” you laughed, looking at her curiously. You loved people like this, authentic and wily – it was usually the case with old people.

               “It’s the glimmer in your eye,” she gripped your chin softly, shaking it.

               You laughed, smiling down at her, “May I ask you a question? Do you believe the tales of this place? I know the Scottish culture has a lot of tall tales and superstitions, but a story like that?”

               “Aaa,” she nodded her head, “A skeptic,” she nodded, “These people wandering about, they don’t really believe in the tale. But I believe in the magic of this place, it just doesn’t work from anyone. It’s for the special.”

               Watching her with amusement and skepticism, you laugh nodding your head, “I hope I didn’t offend you with my question.”

               “No, of course not dear – though I believe in the magic of this place. I mostly come to watch these woman fawning over these rocks. I like to bet on which woman will kiss one of those moldy old things.” You laughed so loud, she grinned up at you, “I am about to go home to my hunny Wallace, but you stay here for me? Those three woman over there,” you looked in the direction she was pointing, “I believe they are each going to lick one of these things.”

               Laughing again, you nodded, “I’ll keep a close eye on them. It was an absolute pleasure, ma’am,” she gripped your hand tightly for a second before releasing.

               You sat back, glancing at those women laughing, “And dear,” you look back up to her, “Most people will be leaving to their beds or finding a pub, but you should stay. While the sun is setting – this place will give you the most magical sights.”

               She truly intrigued you, “Of course ma’am, thank you again.”

               “Enjoy your adventure lass,” she grinned once more, walking off down the path.

                 She was right, people started to trickle out. Husbands getting annoyed or bored, ladies feeling exhausted, or people just fearsome of loss of light – they just left group by group. You were left alone eventually, starring at the sun sinking into the horizon. She was right again, Scotland was magical with sights. You took a mental picture of this moment – the smooth silence, the color the sky made, and just being one with this experience. Your life was never slow, silent, or peaceful. You had always lived in the rush of things. But here, you sat taking in this moment. You felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

               The sun eventually went down and you were met with near darkness – which exception of the full moon. You collected your things and got ready to leave. And it dawned on you – you came all this way and have never even touched these rocks. The book aside, these rocks have had legends and tales for centuries. You should respect the stories and culture. With one touch, maybe you’ll feel the stories, tales, and people that touched it before you.

               It felt odd to reach out and touch the stone. It was cool and surprising smooth. You laughed at the thought of all the tongues that touched this exact spot. And with a single breathe, everything grew black and all the air punched out of you.

               Next thing you felt was the slam of the ground and your oxygen returning to your lungs. The sun from the tree burned your eyes. And you heard it, gun shots. You thought you were having another Post-Traumatic Stress attack, but the second bang brought you to reality. And you started to run, your bag still on your back, darting through the trees. You heard shouts, but you were not taking the chance. Being in the military, you didn’t stand still to figure it out.

               Someone gripped your arm as you ran past them, pointing a sword right in your face, “Are you for real,” I yell at them.  

He had a musket pointing directly in your face. You stopped breathing; he was dressed like a 18th century soldier. Thoughts sped in your mind, could this be a reenactment? Could this be a sick joke? The bullet sounds shook you out of your thoughts, the man was about to speak. You grabbed his musket, yanking it towards your body. The gun went off as his head smashed into yours. He groaned, tripping backwards, and smashing against a tree. The light from the headbutt blasted on in your head.

The light started to blind through, and the forest became vivid again. The sound of bullet fire caused you jump out of it and look at the man unconscious before you. You had to be dreaming, everything was so real. The sound, the smell, the world around you. Where and when were you exactly? You got drug out of your thoughts as a bullet graved your arm. You gasped in pain and your body took flight again. On the run again, you slide down an embankment, meeting eye to eye with another redcoat.

               You gasped, “Holy hell,” you whispered looking at the man, “Forgive me,” you said out loud, as the man watched you, straightening up. You saw his insignia, “Captain?”

               “Jonathan Randall, Esquire – Eighth Dragoon of your majesty’s army, mistress,” he answered.

               Something inside you reminisced, that name was familiar. Watching him closely, as he made his micromovements - he was also watching you, like some predator to prey, “I seem to be in the wrong time, wrong place,” you awkwardly laughed.

               “It does seem that,” he paused to see if you’d introduce yourself.

               “I had someone taking me to some distant family and they tried to attack and rob me,” you tried to play the damsel in distress, “My brother always told me I was too trusting.”

               “Yes mistress, women are naïve sheep,” he tiptoed towards you, his hand resting on his sword, “Your accent,” he nodded towards you. You slowly started taking steps back, “I’m unfamiliar with it.”

               He didn’t believe you, clearly you were off your game. Maybe it’s because the blast you took a few minutes ago getting you to this point. It could be the fact that this was surreal, “I’m grew up in the colonies,” you shrugged it off, you could only imagine how far away your accent was to actually existing, “But my brother sent me to our parent’s home country after their passing.”

               You forgot the first rule of lying, keep it short with no unneeded details. His uniform was familiar, the military and your brother trained you well. You had inclined the year and it was clear the woods of Scotland were not safe with the Redcoats. This man was an enemy, not a gentleman of the era you’ve heard and learned so much about. You had to get away, find safety, and figure out what exactly is going on.

               You knew self-defense, hell you were trained well at the art of combat, but this man had weapons and the only thing you had was a backpack and no adequate footwear for a run in the woods, “You don’t dress like a lady,” he motioned towards your clothes. You stop breathing at this, “In fact, only traitorous women wear clothes such as this,” your back was against the hill behind you. His breath was on you. He gripped your neck tightly, “There is only one way to deal with a woman like yourself,” he went for his buckle.

               Your brother drilled into you about protection during moments like this. He trained you on what to do, it was natural. Headbutt to the nose, hike up of the knee, a tool – in your case a rock – to the head. And soon you were breathing heavily and looking at the Captain unconscious on the ground.

               The sound of the Redcoats was not far off, “Druid,” you heard. You were surprised that someone could sneak so close and not make any noise. This Scottish looking fellow reached out his hands, “Come now,” he said. Your only instinct was to take it for now. This man pulled you behind a tree.

               “What year is it,” you whispered to him.

               “1743,” he mumbled, trying to shush me, taking the time to give you a questionable look.

               “Pinch me,” you were hoping this to be a dream. It was a final test of your predicament. He looked at you strangely before helping with your request. He did, and you felt it and suddenly everything went black.

PART 2