#outlander imagine

[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.

[moonlight-rider25]

Sorry, James Fraser...

Just a quick little lusty through of Jamie. Rated X; angry sex, orgasm denial, dabble of domination...

Summary  You’ve insulted Jamie in the slightest on the walk home through town.  A simple joke, or so you thought, as you both were poking fun at each other.  But taking an insult to Jamies name, one step too far has you in hot water…

“Jamie! I’m sorry!” You giggle through your gasps.

“Ay, like hell you are…” He replies, locking his hand up against your scalp with a fistful of hair.  “...But ye will be..”

Jamie leans his body up against yours; pinned between him and the cold concrete wall.  You swallow back a gleeful grin, as Jamies free hand creeps up under your skirts.  His huge, blunt, warm fingertips grazing against your sensitive soft thigh. You try to push back and free yourself of him, but at no use to his huge toned body. 

“Be a good girl, and take it, aye, for once?” 

You chuckle a bit in your throat, biting back your lip and giving into his hand creeping around the front of your thigh between your legs. His warm breath tickles the back of your neck as he pants against you, holding you still.  You await his touch eagerly, when finally the warm spark of his touch reaches your center. You jump a bit against him and hear him chuckle in his throat against you, edging him on. His fingers circle slowly around your sensitive bud as he leans in against you. You feel him breathing heavily, as you suck in a deep breath of your own before allowing a long moan to escape you. 

Jamie grips your handful of hair tighter and snaps your head back a bit as you suck in a sharp breath. 

“Jamie!” You pant against the brick wall. 

His fingers circle faster around your swollen core, as he presses up against you harder.  You hear him moan as he takes hold of your neck with his mouth, sucking in your soft skin, as his fingers trace elegant designs between your legs. You gasp loudly, your hands searching for him to clutch.

“We’ve only just begun…don’t you dare think about finishing on me already.” Jamie mutters breathessley against your neck.

You squint your eyes shut and try desperately to tear yourself from his grip. He only leans harder against you, while his huge fingers begin to dip in between your quaking folds.

You gasp against the hard cold wall as you feel him plunge his fingers within you, his thumb still circling around your pulsating bud with your slickness. As his fingers plunge in and out against the growing pleasure within you, his mouth meets your neck again sending shivers down your spine. 

His hand releases your hair and wraps around the front of your throat, gently clutching and making you gasp harder for air. 

“Jamie!” You moan, feeling your body beginning to tingle with the pleasure building up inside ready to explode. 

“Not yet..” He huffs, his hand working your core like never before. 

“...Not till I say!” He grunts against you. 

You try to suppress the pleasure as much as you can.

“I can’t Jamie!” You cry between breaths.

“No!?” he groans. “I thought you were sorry?!” He curses through breaths, “Aye! Show me, how sorry…you really are…” He instructs you through gritted teeth.

You groan helpless beneath him trying to hold back from spilling over as he plunges in and out of your core. Your body tingles with pleasure and your stomach twists into a chuning mess, far ready to come undone within his arms. You swallow hard, his hand clutched against your throat as you do and grind your back against him.  Your hands gripped as tight as possible while being grated against the hard brick wall. You bite back your groans trying to keep yourself from cuming, when you finally feel him release you and your eyes spark open. Jamie whips you around pinning you back against the wall; your legs trembling uncontrollably as he does. 

You look down towards the belt of his pants before his giant hand clasps your throat again and makes your eyes meet his. 

Your body; still tingling as he clutches your jaw and stares madly down into your eyes. Your chest heaves, your breasts spilling over the plunging neckline of your dress as he softly meets your lips with his. You groan against him and suck his tongue eagerly into your mouth, relishing in his musky sweet flavor of lust and vengeance. You slowly allow your hands to trace around the waist of his pants, trying to unbutton the entrance of them. He groans into you as he sucks your flavor into his mouth, cupping your chin in his huge hand and eagerly caresses your breast from its neckline. His blunt calloused fingertips revel over your sensitive nipple and send your body into chills. His buttons; one by one begin to free him, bursting at the last moment eagerly till finally the last one. 

Jamie's hands release you and gather your skirts up around your waist. He effortlessly plucks you up from the ground and traps you again between himself and the wall behind you, you wrap your arms around his huge broad neck, watching as his gleaming chests puffs up and down as he stares madly up into your eyes. You try your best to bite back your giggle as he slams against you, sending your body into the brick wall and your center expands around him deep seated inside you. 

Jamie grunts through a wicked smile as he watches your eyes flutter open and closed, sending himself impossibly deep inside you, as your body forms around him in his arms. Your core begins to quiver again, as he slams you repeatedly and steadily. Your body growing limp as the sensations spiral up through your skin, Jamie holds you steady and sends himself into the spot inside that makes your stomach twist with pleasure. 

“Jamie!” you pant as your climax grows near again. 

He holds you steady and continues bucking into your sweet tender spot, deep inside you.

“Are you sorry?” He mutters against your mouth. “For being a bad little woman, soiling my name?” He huffs through kisses.

“I am! I swear I am. You moan against him.

“Say it!” He demands, thrusting in against you.

“I'm sorry!” you grumble through him.

“Say it again!”

“I’m Sorry!” You repeat a bit louder.

“Say it like you mean it, woman!” Jamie demands, grinding perfectly in and out of you.

“I’m sorry Jamie!” You moan out.

“Say it again!”

Your stomach twists and swirls as he makes your climax boil in your core.

“I’m sorry Jamie!” you squeal while your core quivers with each of his thrusts.

“Jamie, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Jamie! Ahhh Jamie, right there!” You moan out before he finally captures your mouth and silences you. 

You feel him slow and the rush of heat within your stomach as you convulse in his arms while your high spills throughout your body. Jamie keeps himself buried deep within you, giving a few last thrusts sending jolts through your body as you heave from breathlessness in his arms. He pants against you, capturing your mouth and holds your face gently as he sets you down and finally pulls himself out of you. You wrap your arms around his huge broad neck and steady yourself while still trying to catch your breath.  He meets your eye and grins a playful smirk at you.

“Sorry James Fraser..” You tell him coyly through your own grin.

‘Ey, I know.” he replies before kissing you again. “But don't do that again..” He warns with a wink.

You smile up at him biting back your lip. “Well… not till we get home at least!” You tell him before running off ahead of him with a playful giggle filling the air echoing around you and Jamie, off the tall brick walls.

[cherienymphe]

Bejeweled (Stephen Bonnet x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON,  MURDER, violence, kidnapping

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: Your journey to America is turned on its head when the captain of the ship wants both your mistress' jewels...and her handmaiden, snatching both in a single night.

~

The large ship gently bobbed and flowed with the smooth movements of the sea. Your mistress was fast asleep, something you envied night after night. You did not get sea sick. No, never that, and you did not even detest the sea. In fact, this was your third time to travel across water, and each time prior, you had loved it. This third passage, however, included something the others had not.

The Gloriana was as beautiful a ship as any other, and you supposed that your lodgings and environment could be so much worse. There was no shortage of food, the ship was cleanly, and thus far, neither you nor your mistress had dealt with any…unscrupulous behavior. None that could be reprimanded, anyway. That thought forced you to bring your legs up onto the bed, wrapping your arms around your knees.

Captain Bonnet was an uncompromising man. He ran a tight ship, and as effective as his methods seemed to be, his authoritarian manner triggered something negative in you. It was reminiscent of your father, an equally intimidating man that would no doubt have killed you had your mistress not offered to take you under her wing as her handmaiden.

Offered was too gentle of a word, you supposed.

You looked at the other woman who was sound asleep, recalling the desperation on her face that day as she had practically begged your father to let her take you off of his hands. You had been clutching your face the entire time, eyes tearful as you fought to ignore the sting in your face. The whole ordeal had shocked you, even more so when your father finally relented. The decision brought out conflicting emotions within you.

The man was abusive, and there was no love lost there, but still. Something in you—some last shred of hope and grace—had wanted your father to hesitate, had wanted him to fight for you. You did not know why, maybe it was for the simple fact that he was your father and he should have, but your disappointment had been heavy on your body. With that being said though, you had not been able to ignore the light feeling in your chest with the reality that you would be free of him.

Of course, there had been a possibility of going into an even worse situation. You did not know your mistress then as well as you did, now, and all manner of things could have befallen you at her hand, this was true, but you had felt no fear. You remembered thinking that you could not face anything worse than you already had.

That was a truth you always held…until some days ago.

Until the day your mistress had secured passage for you both on The Gloriana.

His eyes reminded you of the sea. That was the first thought you recalled having about Captain Bonnet. They were a blue that was nothing at all like the sky, nothing calming or soft about them. They instead reminded you of the sea, of the rough waters that carried men from land to land while also taking the lives of as many as it wanted to claim. A deep blue that was meant to be feared, approached with caution.

“Just the two of ye then?”

It was not a strange question, and the question itself did not even make you uneasy. It was not even the way he said it, tone even and voice deep. It was his hyper focused gaze, the way it settled on your mistress for far too long, as if he were sizing her up. Such a look was not uncommon to see, her beauty something that anyone would take note of. However, it was the glint in his blue stare that forced you to step closer to her.

The movement had grabbed his attention, freezing you in place, and the small curve of his pink lips did not settle you. The man did not appear to be any kind of ashamed at having been caught, returning his gaze back to her. Or…more notably, her chest. You decided then that you did not like the man, and when your mistress pulled you along by the hand, turning to say something to you, the sun glinted off of the impressive jewel she always wore around her neck.

The expensive gift was eye catching, always had been, and it was then you decided that you really did not like that man.

You urged her to hide it after that, something she thankfully agreed with. Captain Bonnet struck you as an opportunistic man, and he seemed the type to not resist temptation once it was in his path. He liked pretty and shiny things, and your mistress had much of that. It was why sleep could not find you as it should while aboard the ship. America’s shores could not come fast enough, night after night witness to your lack of sleep.

“You shall be dead on your feet by the time we arrive,” the other woman said early the next morning over breakfast.

“Maybe so,” you played along with a small smile. “…but at least then I will be able to rest soundly.”

She touched your cheek at that, and as she leaned in some with the action…

You saw it.

It was a small rash, just there where her shoulder and neck met, and your heart sank at the sight. You knew it was only due to the heat in your quarters, something your mistress often dealt with when overheated, but you knew many would not see it that way. You knew of one in particular who would definitely not see it that way.

It was only a day or so ago that Captain Bonnet had thoroughly inspected anyone for any sign of smallpox. You and your mistress had been cleared, but you did not turn a blind eye to the passengers that were here one minute…and gone the next. You did not want to imagine the worst, but fear and desperation drove people to do heinous things. A ship wrought with the pox was enough to drive any man mad.

Your mistress caught sight of your own line of sight before reaching up to her neck with a small smile.

“Tis only from the heat.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “I am aware, but…”

Your words died in the air, and she caught on to what you were getting at. A brief look of discomfort colored her features before she proceeded to wrap her shawl around herself. The smile that she sent you was meant to be reassuring, you were sure, but it did not quell the worry in your heart. You thickly swallowed as she continued to eat.

“Let me go,” you suggested to her hours later when came time for your ration of water. “If Captain Bonnet catches sight of that…”

You gestured to her neck. She had looked ready to protest, but at your reminder, she slowly deflated. With a sharp nod, she allowed you to leave, and you made haste. You did not enjoy walking about the ship without her, severely uncomfortable the few times you had to, but at the moment, you were left with no choice. You could not risk your mistress being seen with that rash, no doubt in your mind as to what would become of her.

One of the Captain’s crewmen was distributing the water, the blond man observing from the side. However, when it was your turn, you were met with the sight of blue eyes instead of brown. You paused only briefly, eyeing him a bit as he fixed you with a smile. It was wrought with amusement, as if your mere presence made him laugh, and you watched him fill the pail.

“So far without your mistress?” he asked you, voice almost soft in nature.

Some of his long hair had escaped his hat, pieces falling into his face as he leaned in, and you paid mind to lean away a bit. This did not go unnoticed by Captain Bonnet, and you clutched the pail as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“She is only just in our quarters,” you told him. “Resting.”

He held your gaze, searching your eyes. For what, you did not know. You were aware that you were not alone with the man, but it certainly felt that way. Or, more importantly, he made you feel that way. Captain Bonnet seemed a bold man the way he swaggered about the ship, and the way he talked to people. He did not seem the type to be deterred by witnesses once he set his mind to do something.

…and that was what scared you.

His smile suddenly grew, the smile bleeding into his eyes a bit as they crinkled.

“Resting,” he repeated. “How very good for her.”

He pressed his hand against the bucket of water lightly, forcing you to take a small step back.

“Use it wisely,” he advised, fingers lingering on it just a tad before you finally turned away.

You did not tell your mistress of the strange encounter with Captain Bonnet when you returned. She was reading when you shut the door, setting the bucket down, and your response remained sparse when she inquired as to how it went. You checked her neck again, and she allowed you, rolling her eyes when you huffed.

“It has not gone yet,” you murmured.

“Tis only due to the heat,” she said. “It will pass in a day or two, and even then, by then we shall be at our destination.”

She sounded so sure, so optimistic, but you could not share in her enthusiasm.

Your own pleas were all that kept her holed away in your quarters, small huffs leaving her each time you reminded her she must stay until the rash was gone. There was only so much reading she could do, this you knew, but you would rather your mistress drive herself crazy with boredom than to be thrown overboard for fear of having the pox.

“Resting.”

That was what you said for the third day in a row. This time, it was to one of the crewmen instead of the captain himself. You never elaborated, feeling no need to. After all, you were her handmaiden, and it was not uncommon for someone of your status to be worked so much. That was never her way, but they did not need to know the benevolent nature of your relationship.

It worked for a time.

Until you woke up to the sound of commotion and yelling.

You were up and at the door before your mistress, keeping yourself covered as you looked down the hall with wide eyes. You could see some of the crewmen, but more importantly, you could see the tall captain among them. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, and bile turned in your gut as you realized what they were doing.

One of the passengers stood in his doorway, compliant as Captain Bonnet carefully inspected the man, turning his head which way and that. You sharply inhaled, and you were quick to retreat back into your quarters and shut the door. Your hands shook, and you could hear your mistress inquiring from behind you.

“They are inspecting passengers,” you slowly told her, heart picking up speed in your chest.

You only had another day until you reached the Americas. Why now? When you faced her, there was a bit of concern on her face, but not nearly enough. You loved her dearly, but sometimes your mistress could be very naïve about a lot of things. She softly assured you that things would be fine as you inspected her neck, noting that the cluster of bumps had diminished some, but not as much as you would have preferred.

It was just so hot on this damn ship.

You felt panicked, so unsure of how to navigate this when a knock sounded on the door.

You both froze for half a second before you urged her to lie down. She seemed reluctant, but otherwise listened to you, allowing you to pull the sheet over her body. You flinched at the sound of another knock, chest twisting painfully when you heard Captain Bonnet’s voice from the other side.

“Just a moment,” you called, rubbing your hands along the fabric of your gown.

You barely got the door open good before Captain Bonnet was attempting to force his way in. He looked equally amused and impressed as you stood your ground, jutting your chin out. One hand remained on the door, the other on the wall as you held his gaze. His pink lips were curved into the faintest of smirks, and one of his own hands joined yours on the door, fingers just shy of brushing your own.

“Captain Bonnet,” you greeted, sounding a lot surer of yourself than you felt.

He looked past you, gaze roaming over your quarters before his blue eyes met yours again. He tilted his head to the side, and you noticed then that he was without his hat, dark blond hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. The way he sized you up was almost enough to make you falter, but you merely clenched your jaw.

“Poor lass this morning had the pox,” he started, making your heart sink. “Infected about three others with her.”

He did not take his eyes off of yours as he said this.

“We got rid of ‘em quick enough.”

The confirmation of your earlier suspicions only made you feel ill, ignoring the sting behind your eyes as he continued.

“…but now we’ve got to inspect the whole ship, ye see.”

He looked as if it was such a heavy burden on his heart, but you knew better. He may have seen it as a necessary evil, but there was a part of him that reveled in having less mouths to feed. Maybe even a part of him that reveled in throwing innocent people overboard. You just knew it.

“I have no problem with that,” you finally breathed. “…but…my mistress though. The journey has been tiresome for her, and since I know her to be fine, I think it is best you let her rest.”

Captain Bonnet’s gaze was heavy, and he appeared almost impossibly still as he stood before you. He blinked, slowly looking around you, and you moved slightly to keep yourself in his line of vision.

“I shall be the judge of that-.”

“Please, Captain Bonnet, she tires easily and…”

Your words died in your throat as he stepped closer, too close, and when his fingers brushed against yours, you were quick to pull them away. So eager to be as far away from him as possible, the absence of your hand allowed for no resistance as he pushed on the door, shoving past you in the process.

“No, she is sleeping!”

You reached for his sleeve, but it was too late. Your mistress was startled by the feel of the sheet being yanked off of her, and when she sat up to face the blond man, her hair fell behind her shoulders. The reddened and raised skin was plain as day on her neck, and you felt as if you would be sick.

“No, it is merely from the heat,” you defended, attempting to get in between them. “She’s not sick!”

He was a lot stronger than he looked, a lot stronger than you, and your grip was tight on her arm as he forced her out of the cabin. Her screams of protest were loud in the corridor, almost drowning out the sound of your own pleas.

“Captain Bonnet, please,” you begged, trying in vain to force him to let her go.

With a swift jerk of his head, one of his crewmen had you by the arm, the other hand clenched painfully on the back of your neck. You gasped in pain, but it was nothing in comparison to the pain you felt at watching your mistress be dragged away. You might as well not have put up a fight, at all, with the good it was doing you. Your own name bounced off of the walls as she screamed it, your own voice mixing in as you tried to convince them that she was not sick.

Your face felt tight from all of your tears, fresh ones replacing the old ones as you were led up to the captain’s quarters. After being shoved back into your own room, you waited and waited. Hours you waited, and when your mistress never returned, you were forced to accept the horrible truth. The tears came first…and then the agonizing pain.

You had grown to love her and care for her much since you crossed paths. She had saved you, after all, and now… Now she had been swallowed up by the rough waves of the sea, disappearing into that deep, endless blue. The knowledge left a heavy feeling in your chest, a feeling that made you curl into yourself. She was gone…

…and you were alone.

What would become of you when you got to America? How would you look after yourself? Find work? Her absence left you vulnerable in so many ways, and your uncertain future was enough to make your knees weak, forcing you to practically be dragged to the captain’s cabin.

Once inside, you did not even flinch when the door was tightly shut behind you. You stared ahead at the window behind his desk, unable to focus on any presence that was not your own. You could only think about how frightened your mistress must have been, and you closed your eyes at the unwelcome visions of what her last moments had to have been like.

“It was quick.”

Your eyes slowly opened at the sound of his voice.

“…if that should bring ye any comfort.”

It did not.

“I did what must be done,” he sounded closer, now. “Rather the deaths of a few than of this entire ship, aye?”

He took his time walking by you, arm brushing your own.

“Come now,” he said in a low voice, tone meant to be comforting but it only came off as mocking. “I’m sure you will find a new mistress in no time.”

Your gaze found the floor, eyes remaining there as you felt his own gaze on you.

“Or…some other means of making your livelihood.”

You heard him take a deep breath.

“Provided you show no signs of illness, that is…”

At that, you finally lifted your gaze, tearful eyes resting on him as he leaned against the table behind him. His legs were crossed at the ankle as his hands rested on the wood at his sides, and despite the mirth in his blue eyes, his countenance was dark and serious. He tilted his head, drinking you in.

“I never did inspect ye earlier…and it sure would be a shame to get rid of a bonnie lass such as yourself.”

Both his tone and his words made you uneasy, and you pressed your trembling lips together. It was only moments ago that you felt yourself growing numb with your mistress’ absence, entertaining the thought that you did not care what happened to you. Now, however…

You were very much aware of your isolation with the captain who turned out to be worse than you initially thought.

“I…”

You struggled to say something.

“The two of you were sharing a room, after all. In such close quarters like that…it would be best to be as thorough as possible,” he told you, straightening up.

You took a step back, swallowing.

“I was already inspected by one of your men,” you argued.

It was not a lie. The man’s hands had been rough as he turned your head to inspect your face and neck, but Captain Bonnet only chuckled at your words, moving towards you. You watched him effortlessly remove his hat, smoothing his hair back with a small smile.

“Yes, well, you know what they say, lass. If you want somethin’ done right…”

He trailed off with a wave of his hand, appearing proud of himself as he moved closer. Even if this man had not murdered your mistress and friend under the guise of protecting the rest of the crew and passengers, something in you would still revolt at being so near to him with no one else around. It was as if he could see the decision in your eyes, quick to lunge for you the moment you tried to run for the door.

You winced when your back roughly met the wall.

“Not so fast, darlin’,” he quietly told you. “What kinda captain would I be if I simply let you…walk out of here, mm?”

One of his hands was tight on your neck, fingers pressing into your throat as you stared past him.

“I will rest easy knowing I ‘ave seen your unblemished skin for myself.”

You trembled when his other hand came up to gently trail down the side of your face, and a glint of the light caught your eye, drawing your attention to his pinky finger…and the familiar ring it sported. All of your breath left you as you stared at the familiar piece of jewelry, recalling that your mistress never took it off. The sight of it on his hand reminded you of that first day when he had been eyeing the necklace she wore, and you realized that he lacked the last shred of decency you thought remained.

“You knew she was not sick,” you tearfully murmured, fresh tears escaping.

He lifted his gaze at that, pulling his eyes away from the top of your chest where it had lingered. His blue eyes glinted with mischief, a small smirk dancing along his pink lips as he mulled over your accusation. A low hum left him, and your throat tightened at the feel of his free hand on your waist.

“What a vile accusation,” he mused, that same hand sliding upwards over your chest. “I am simply a cautious captain.”

His expression did not match his words, the smile on his lips sickening, and you shook between him and the wall as he traced his fingers over your neck. Your gaze lifted towards the ceiling, just waiting for this to be over as he touched you in ways that were most inappropriate.

“It is unfortunate indeed what happened to your mistress, but better her than ye, aye?”

You shook your head at such a statement, jerking when his fingers danced along your leg, your gown lifting with them. When you finally had enough, reaching up to slap his hand away and push at his chest, the brief disapproval you saw in his eyes made you shrink. You pressed your back into the wall.

“Lively, you are,” he murmured, and there was almost excitement in his eyes, now. “Brave some might say…stupid, others would say…”

You were unprepared for the feel of his hand fisting into your hair, forcing you to your knees.

“…but lively is what I say.”

You gasped in pain when your forehead hit the floor. An attempt to crawl away was unsuccessful, vision blurring from tears when you felt his hand on your ankle, roughly dragging you back. You knew there was no use in screaming. The ship—and crew—belonged to him, after all. They were loyal to him, and what crewman would risk his life to come to the aid of a lowly handmaiden all alone in the world without her mistress?

Your gown tore with ease, flinching at both the sound and feel of the fabric pulling harshly against your skin before finally releasing. You could feel his callous fingers kneading into your skin as he pulled you back, the man crawling over you to trap you beneath his frame. Your feet banged against the floor as you flailed and fought to get away from him, but one swift slap subdued you enough.

Your head felt both light and heavy at the same time, the room swaying some, and you could not hold back your sobs. You felt as if it were all too much, too many overwhelming events one after the other. You tasted blood on your tongue when it touched your lip, and you shakily reached up to confirm it.

Captain Bonnet’s entry was nothing short of painful, feeling as if you were being ripped in half by the mere feel of his cock. He was rough, no hint of gentleness in his actions, at all, and your back scraped against the wood with every thrust. With no other choice, you pressed your nails into his arm, needing something—anything—to anchor yourself to.

His loud grunts filled the cabin, only rivaled by the sound of your sobs. It was impossible to focus on anything other than the feel of his thrusts, every plunge of his cock as his hips connected with yours. Each one was more painful than the last, your nails drawing blood, now, you were sure. Long strands of blond hair had escaped with the force of his movements, some of them falling down and kissing your face as he hovered above you.

You could feel your mistress’ ring cool against your skin as he held you down. The cool metal made you close your eyes, trying to push the feel of it out of your mind, but it was either focus on that or the rough actions of the man on top of you.

“Where is that lively spirit you had only moments ago, aye?”

The sound of his voice, the feel of his lips at your ear made you shudder, and you wanted him away from you. Your hands futilely pushed against his chest and arm, and when a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, you realized that was what he wanted. Still, that did not prevent you from trying to get him off by any means necessary. You were desperate and afraid and in pain.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Put up a good fight.”

If you did not, you felt as if you were letting him win, but in doing so, you were giving him just what he wanted…and still letting hm win. You felt his teeth sink into your neck and chest, and you cried out in protest. At some point, you turned your face away completely, staring at the wall as tears cooled your face. You wanted this to be over…and quickly.

…because the sooner it was…the sooner you could put it behind you.

But Captain Stephen Bonnet was not a man content to remain in the past.

“I consider myself a fair man,” he purred into your skin. “I pay for my pleasures.”

You closed your eyes at that, feeling as if you would be sick. You just knew that even after he was done, the scent and feel of him would linger.

“A lone lass such as yourself would get eaten alive out there.”

He hummed against your skin, and you shuddered.

“Consider yourself fortunate I got my hands on you before someone else did.”

[troublemaker203]

Murtagh Fitzgibbons x Fem! reader - Arranged Marriage Pt. 4

Word count: 1002

Summary: After your father had been killed and your brother had been taken by the Redcoats, you were left behind. A group of highlanders come across your ravaged house and decide to take you with them to Castle Leoch. Since you have lost the protection from your father and brother, it is decided that you should be married, in order to keep you protected from the Redcoats.

Warnings: None

Part 3

You did not remember much from the night before: Your attempts to calm your nerves with alcohol had turned into you getting slightly drunk. When dinner was over and everyone started to move through the hall – also drunk – you tried to make a run for it, but Claire had kept an eye on you during the whole evening and she was not about to let you get shot by one of the guards.

The tables were cleared of all of the food and there were only glasses and jugs of alcohol left. Some musicians had made their way to the front of the hall and now the festivities had really started. Men and women were dancing through the tables and some were already trying to move some of the tables to the side, creating a dancefloor. Claire had held you by your arm, in order to stop you from escaping, and the only thing you could do was watching everyone having a good time. “Here,” Claire handed you a cup, “drink some wine and stand with me for a while. You’ll feel better, I promise. And, with a bit of luck, Murtagh will get the courage to talk to you or maybe even ask you to dance,” she winked at you. “There is no reason to be afraid of him, you know. He is a sweet man once you really get to know him.” When I get to know him… That was the problem, you did not know this man at all. Claire had raised her glass to Murtagh, who raised his as well. “Oh look!” she nudged your shoulder. “He is standing up. Now, I am going to go over there, so he can see that you’re alone and available, but I will stay close to you, so don’t worry.” Claire walked away and Murtagh approached you. “Good evening,” he said and raised his glass, you followed his gesture. “To us, I guess,” he took a sip. “To us,” you said and took a sip as well. “How are ye? Are ye nervous about tomorrow?” You nodded, finding that nodding was not as bad as saying the actual words, afraid that you might hurt his feelings. “I understand,” he looked around the room and said nothing for a while. “Are you… eh, are you nervous, at all?” Murtagh chuckled lightly when you asked the question. “I might not look like it, but yes, I am, too.” You felt that the bricks of the wall you had built around you slowly started to fall down. He certainly did not look like it, indeed, but Claire had been right, you were starting to see that this man was a friendly one. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride so close before the wedding?” you asked him, in an attempt to break the ice even more. “Only if ye’re in yer weddin’ dress.” “Oh.” Right, my wedding dress. “Eh… about that, do you know where I can get a wedding dress?” “Everything is already being arranged, no need to worry about anything,” Murtagh started to smile, “Ned has got it covered.” You nodded, unsure what that smile meant.

You two had been standing in silence for a while, until Murtagh asked you something you had never thought he would ask. “Would ye like to dance?” he stretched out his hand towards you. “I am not sure if I know how.” “I will show ye.” You took his hand and he escorted you towards the dancefloor. You put your hand on his shoulder and he put his on the small of your back. “Ye’re going to need to be a little bit closer to me, is that okay?” You nodded and he gently pulled you closer to him. You had never been this close to him and it did not feel awful; on the contrary, it felt kind of safe. You even dared to look him in his eyes now. His eyes were ever so soft and friendly, like he was actively trying to put you at ease. “Just follow my lead,” he started to move very slowly and once he noticed that you followed him without difficulty, he started to pick up the pace, so that you were dancing to the rhythm of the music. When this had gone well for a while, he even spun you carefully around and, as you were spinning, you caught a glimpse of Claire, who was smiling at the scene.

Murtagh was an incredibly good dancer and you caught yourself enjoying the situation. You even caught Murtagh smiling and laughing a couple of times. You were more focused on not stepping on his feet than the wedding you would be having tomorrow. It was really nice to be having a good time for once. You were so focused on dancing with Murtagh, that when you looked around you, after having danced for a while, you saw that most of the people who attended the feast had retreated to their chambers already. Some people were still there, but most had gone to bed. “What time is it?” you asked. “Let’s just say I think we’re closer to the morning than we are to midnight,” he said with a grin. Your eyes widened. That meant that it was officially the day of the wedding! Murtagh noticed your shock and tried to ease your mind. “Don’t worry, the ceremony won’t start until late in the afternoon. I think most people will need ample time to recover from the festivities of the previous night.” You smiled at his attempt to calm your nerves. “Well, I guess it’s time for me to retire to my chambers, then.” Murtagh gave you a short nod in response. “Goodnight. I will see you at the wedding.” He gave a quick bow. “Yes, I will see you at the wedding.” You turned around and started to walk towards the corridor, trying to find the stairs to your room. This would be your last night of freedom.

Tag list:

@hobbitsesoftheshire

@mysticalsoups

@islayhawkin

@oneofthoseshoes

@bittersweet-ginger

@taetae-forever

@talkdifferently6

[labarboteuse]

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

Please tell me ! 🥰

[cyarskaren52]

This scene! I think Jamie put the fear of God into Richard Brown in this moment😳 He’s an honorable man until you mess with Claire/his family. I love when we get to see this side of Sam’s portrayal of Jamie and his ability to bring him to life on screen❤️

#Outlander

@SamHeughan

He a real one for sure.

[writeroutoftime]

thrown back in time

pairing: claire fraser x reader - platonic or romantic (requested by: anon)

summary: when you find yourself thrown centuries back in time, you don't know what to do, where to go, or who to trust. luckily, you run into a kind face who seems to understand exactly what you're going through.

warnings: none

words: 919

a/n: as you can probably see from the pairing, I wasn't sure if the anon wanted this to be more of a platonic or potentially romantic situation, so I made it pretty ambiguous. as with most of my recent posting, this request is from forever ago, but I hope you still enjoy!

oOoOo

The moment you opened your eyes, you felt a blinding pain in your head as you tried to take in the unfamiliar environment that surrounded you. This was definitely not the field you had previously been in. All you could remember was the loud sound of buzzing that flooded your senses before a flash of dark.

With a groan, you pushed yourself off the ground, wincing at the stinging in your ankle. Finally, you took the time to glance around you and noticed you were still in an open field, but there seemed to be a gaggle of wooden houses a couple hundred feet away. You sighed at the thought of having to limp that far, but you knew staying where you were wasn't going to do much to help you.

What you hadn't realized was that there was a woman, behind you holding a basket of herbs that had noticed your sudden appearance. "Are you alright down there?" she called out, startling you as you finally noticed her presence.

It wasn't long before the woman was right in front of you, her eyes furrowed in concern. "What happened?" she asked hurriedly with as she attempted to catch her breath.

"I-I'm not sure." you stuttered out honestly. "But I think, um, I think something is wrong with my ankle." you admitted, stealing a glance at the limb in question.

Kneeling down, the woman moved to examine your ankle, but found herself seemingly startled by your clothing. Her eyes flitted up to yours, but instead of judgement, there seemed to be a sense of understanding in them. An understanding you did not yet comprehend. In the same moment, you realized what clothes the woman was wearing. Her dress seemed to be straight out of a period drama. What had happened to you and where were you?

You were only broken out of your thoughts by a stabbing pain that stemmed from your ankle as it was poked and prodded at. "I think it's just a sprain, but still a nasty one." the woman declared, standing up, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'll bring you back to my surgery and treat it there. I'm Claire Fraser by the way." she explained, wrapping an arm around you so she could help support your weight.

"y/n." you breathed out, feeling as though you could trust Claire.

The two of you hobbled towards the largest house in the area, stopping every few minutes to allow you the chance to breath through the pain. As you neared Claire's surgery, you began to notice others in the community. They stopped what they had been doing in favor of openly staring at your form. There was a mix of looks of confusion, distrust, and some rather hostile looks.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, not only from the physical pain of your ankle, but the emotional turmoil that came with not knowing where you were. Though Claire offered a sense of safety, all you longed for in that moment was to be back in your own bed.

"Marsali!" Claire called out, pulling you from your thoughts. "Please prepare some gauze and salve for our patient here." she ordered, leading you inside. "Here you are." she said, helping you to sit down on the bed.

While Claire busied herself, gathering supplies, you took a moment to look around your new space. It didn't seem to resemble any doctor's office you had previously been in. The jars of herbs and ointments vastly contradicted the sterile, empty offices you were used to. In fact, it seemed as though everything around you was straight out of a historical documentary.

As Claire began to treat your ankle, you couldn't hold back your questions and fears any longer. "Where are we?" you asked, voice growing shaky. "I know this is nowhere near my house, and all of this looks like we're in the middle of a reenactment. What is going on?" you continued, voice growing louder and more concerned with each question.

Claire's features softened before she turned to the other girl in the room, Marsali, and asked her to give the two of you some privacy. Once the door was firmly shut, Claire turned to you and gently grabbed your hands before she broke the news.

"The truth is the year is 1774, and I'm going to guess that is centuries before your time." she explained, taking your shocked expression in. "I'm not sure how you made it back here, but there are some of us sensitive to time travel. I myself found myself thrown back in time from the year 1945."

1774? 1945? Her words caused your breathing to run ragged and you felt as though you were going into a panic attack. How the hell had you been thrown back over 200 years in time? And, more importantly, how were you going to get back?

"y/n, listen." Claire prompted. "I know this is a lot to take in, but it is going to be okay. I'm going to help you, and you are going to get through this. Okay?"

Wordlessly, you nodded, falling forward into Claire's arms. Immediately, she hugged you tightly and rubbed a comforting hand up and down your back. "Fraser's Ridge will be your home for now. We'll keep you safe and help you to find a solution. I promise." she vowed.

It looked like you would be away from home a little longer than you had expected to be.

[always-outlander]

Do you have any headcanons for the Outlander characters?

Hi Anon, thanks for this question! What a lovely thing I got to spend some time thinking and writing about. To quote Miriam Webster for those who may not know, a headcanon refers to something that a fan imagines to be true about a character or story even though no information supporting that belief is spelled out in the text.

So yes, definitely do! I mainly like to fill in the blank spaces or passages of time that the show does not cover fully. And because the show and source material span so much time, there are plenty of those. I love the drabbles people write for those reasons, but you asked me specifically for the characters, and my faves are Jamie and Claire so here we go.

Jamie:

Perhaps this is a more commonly discussed one, but my longstanding thoughts about his ghost that we see in the first episode. We know the ghost is Jamie at age 25 per Diana, which is about the time when Jamie fought in the battle of Culloden and had sent Claire back through the stones. We also know Jamie has "sight" and has been able to see his loved ones in the future through visions. Since Claire is from the future, I have always thought that as his sight increases, he likely could see Claire in her time and during her life before she went through the stones and met him.

He has also said countless times that his soul will find Claire's even in death, and that he would endure 200 years of purgatory in order for them to meet again. So I think that at the end of Jamie's life, he uses the knowledge of his 'sight' to send his soul and project himself to the place he knows Claire will be able to reunite with him, which is 1940's Inverness. I have always hoped that it is his appearance as a ghost that triggers the sequence of events in which Claire to goes to the stones, travels through time and meets him. So in my mind, in Jamie's death, he creates a never ending time loop that the two of them are in. (I hope that makes sense).

I also have thoughts pertaining to Jamie's childhood at Lallybroch and all of the adventures he found himself on with his older brother, Willie. They would climb the walls and venture to the furthest stretches of Lallybroch together, pretending to fight in battle or hunt. A five year age gap between the two likely meant that Jamie was often Willie's undesirable shadow, and the two undoubtably would fight.

I think the snake "Sawny" was carved by Willie as a token of respect and thanks following a scare on one of their escapades. The only snakes native to Scotland are venomous Adder snakes, and I bet Jamie saved Willie from being bit by one. To thank him, Willie carved him the snake with his nickname on the back. 'Sawny' is an abreviation or nickname of Alexander (Jamie's middle name). When Willie died of Smallpox in 1727 at age 11, Jamie was only 6. Two years later, Jamie lost his mother and younger brother Robert during the birth. It's no wonder this piece of his adolescence means so much to him and remained with him throughout his life. It was likely the fondest concrete memory he had, given to him when he had won the respect of his brother.

Claire:

I've ALWAYS wanted to have a storyline or a tidbit of information regarding Claire's parents. To me it's strange that Diana never wrote anything about them, or had Claire's character recall something substantial that her uncle might have said about them in the past. For background, Claire was born in London to Henry Beauchamp and Julia Moriston. We know from a small passage in Outlander that Claire looks like her mother, but I've long liked to imagine that Claire gets her fiery personality from her mother as well, who was only 32 when she died in 1923. Her mother's maiden name has Nordic/Scottish roots, while her father comes from French roots. In my head her father came from a more affluent or wealthy background, while her mother was more middle to low class.

Claire was born at the end of World War I in 1918 and I like to imagine that her parents met towards the beginning of the war (closer to 1914). At that time in England, women were beginning to fill the job positions left by men who had gone off to war, and there were countless strikes for equal pay taking place. In my mind Henry was a scholar like his brother who found himself perhaps a bit useless in his profession at the time of the war. Julia would have been in the middle of the women's rights movements and fighting for equal pay, perhaps working as bank teller or clerk. When Claire was born at the end of the war, I imagine she cut back on her hours but maintained some autonomy and retained her job she had spent so long fighting for.

I like to think the two met with a classic meet-cute, where Henry had lived a very privileged life filled with high profile connections forged through his parents and scholarly peers. Julia mistakenly finds herself among his social circle one day and completely knocks his socks off with her candor and forward ways of thinking. She challenged him, and treated him differently than any woman previous. Similar to how Jamie cannot help but adore Claire's outspoken nature, I picture Julia having that same fire and strength which Henry would and could not ignore. I'd read a book about them, I think!

These are just a few, I have PLENTY more but this would quickly become it's own novel :)

[imaginationlover101]

Jamie Fraiser curly's hair has me WEAK 🥰

[kcyars189]

[hiswhiteknight]

Helloo ✨ any chance that we will get an update on Unbelievably Outlandish?! I just started the show, fell head over heels, stumbled upon your writing and now i HOOKED! Your writing is aaamazing

Honestly, this story has been playing in my mind for a while and I decided up update it. I'm going to try to do a weekly installment. I'm using my tablet, so I have to get used to not using my laptop to write and post on tumblr.

And I immensely appreciate your comments, it helped with my long lasting writers block! I did just post another chapter - https://www.tumblr.com/hiswhiteknight/736999253488156672/unbelievably-outlandish-part-12

[sapphiressmoke]

Outlander Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Modern!Reader

She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[troublemaker203]

Murtagh Fitzgibbons x Fem! Reader - Arranged Marriage Pt. 3

Word Count: 1854

Summary: After your father had been killed and your brother had been taken by the Redcoats, you were left behind. A group of highlanders come across your ravaged house and decide to take you with them to Castle Leoch. Since you have lost the protection from your father and brother, it is decided that you should be married, in order to keep you protected from the Redcoats.

Warnings: None

Part 2

As soon as the door of Colum's office closed behind you, you panicked. Should you try to escape? No. No, that wasn't a good plan. You would get caught and likely get thrown into the dungeons. So you would get married. Would you, though? This could not be real, right? Absentmindedly, you started to wander through the castle thinking about how you would handle this situation. Did you want to marry either of those men? Who would be worse? Dougal had made it known that he found you quite... pleasant. But did you find him pleasant, too? Not in the least. And Murtagh was a grumpy man; how could you ever find a way to live with such a person?               Because you were so caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed that you had walked outside and were now strolling through the gardens. A voice made you snap out of it. “Hello, Y/N,” Claire said, “I am surprised to see you here.” “Yes, well, I just came from…” you motioned towards the castle and Claire nodded. “Yes, I wondered when they would break the news to you. Have they… Do you know who you are going to marry?” “No. Colum said he will announce it tonight,” you looked down at your feet, “during a great feast, for all to hear.” When you looked back up at Claire, your eyes had welled up. “Hey,” she stepped towards you and put her warm hand on your arm, “I was once in your position, and, yes, I was scared, too, but now I can’t imagine a life without Jamie. Any man would be lucky to have you and I am sure that you will be treated with love and respect.” “But I don’t want to marry either of them,” you whispered, afraid to cry. “Of whom?” “Dougal or Murtagh.” “Oh.” Claire paused for a moment. “Dougal might be a little bit much in the beginning, but he is a strong man and he will protect you with his life, so you will always be safe when you’re with him.” “And Murtagh?” “Murtagh is… well, I think he will be the most loving husband you will ever meet.” “But he does not look friendly at all.” Claire laughed. “I know, but, trust me, he has a heart of gold. Don’t let his surly expression fool you, my dear.” You nodded. “Do you want to help me sort the herbs in my practice? It will help you get your mind off things. Maybe you could help me more often? I could really use some help with all of the patients; I do hope you’re not scared of blood?” You shook your head. “No,” you smiled at Claire, “and I would love to help, thank you.”

              You had never been in Claire’s practice before and your eyes widened when you walked down the stairs, into the big room. There were hundreds of jars filled with herbs of which you had never heard the name. “I don’t know how good I am at any of this.” Claire smiled lovingly at you. “Don’t worry, I will teach you everything you need to know, it won’t be that hard.” She handed you some jars after she had set down her basket with herbs and started explaining the various uses and how to prepare them. It took you two the whole afternoon to organize everything and you even helped Claire with a patient: one of the young boys at the castle had hurt himself on the fire in the kitchen and Claire had showed you how to dress his wounds. It was a very educational afternoon and you were relieved that it had taken your mind off things.               After a while, mistress Fitzgibbons came down the stairs to fetch you. “Hello, my dear, I came to fetch ye to get ye ready for the evening.” You looked at Claire who gave you an encouraging look. You followed mistress Fitzgibbons to your room where, unbeknownst to you, a beautiful dress was waiting for you. The fabric was sprawled out on your bed and it looked very expensive. You looked questioningly at mistress Fitzgibbons. “It’s a special dress, for a special occasion,” she winked at you, but you couldn’t feel happy about this so-called ‘special’ occasion. You felt like there were rocks in your stomach and you thought about how you could escape, but Claire had already explained that escaping would be impossible, since there were guards everywhere. “Trust me,” she had said, “I have tried.” Mistress Fitz had set you down on a chair in front of the mirror and started brushing your hair. You looked at her in the mirror and she looked at you, giving you a warm smile; she could probably see the fear in your eyes and she wanted you to feel safe. You smiled back at her, but your eyes did not smile. “Dinna fash, lass, you will be in good hands.” You wanted to believe her, but the truth was that you did not know any of those men and now you were expected to marry and, eventually – and sooner than later – share the bed with one of them. You knew that the consummation of a marriage was very important and none of these people would rest before they were sure that it had happened. You could already see them sitting, drinking downstairs, waiting for the moment that you and your husband – whoever that may be – went to bed.              You had been sitting in silence for a moment and Mistress Fitz was almost done with your hair. "Do you know when the wedding will be taking place?" you asked, hopeful that she would be able to have an answer to one of your many questions. "Not exactly, but I expect it will happen tomorrow, or the day after." "And..." you hardly dared to ask the question, "do you know to whom...?" The old lady shook her head. "No, I am sorry, dear, but you should not worry too much. These men may bark, but they don't bite, I can tell you that much." You smiled at her, glad for her attempts to put your mind at ease.        After she had put the last hand to your hair, she put her hands on your shoulders. "There, such a pretty lass." You looked at yourself in the mirror and she was right, you did look very pretty. "Up you get, let's get you in that dress." You stood up and started to undress yourself with the help of Mistress Fitz. You stepped into the beautiful green dress and the fabric had not only looked expensive, it felt really expensive, too. It was of the loveliest colour green and it suited you very well. You were laced up and as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, you could not believe that the woman staring back at you was really you. Mistress Fitz put a string of pearls around your neck to really finish the look. She handed you a pair of shoes and you knew that this was the last step before you had to go downstairs. Your heart was beating aggressively in your chest and you were afraid that it would jump out.

By the time your shoes were put on by Mistress Fitz, you felt really lightheaded and you grabbed the woman’s arm to steady yourself. “Come on, lass, I willna let ye go. Let us head downstairs.” You nodded, unable to speak, and the two of you started making your way to the great hall.

Once in the hall, you could see that it was greatly decorated and the long tables were filled with enormous amounts of food; it certainly looked like a special occasion. “Now, my dear, I am going to have to let ye go now, since you will be seated at the table in the front.” Still not able to speak you nodded that you had understood what she had said. She carefully let go of your arm, testing to see if your own legs could carry you. Fortunately, your legs had gotten their strength back; at least, enough to carry yourself towards your seat. Colum stood up as you approached the table. “Ah, there she is! Have a seat, Y/N.” “Thank you,” you said, sitting down next to him. Colum started to speak to everyone who was seated in the hall. “Welcome to this special evening, everyone. We are all here to celebrate the marriage that will take place tomorrow. A marriage between this lovely lady here,” he motioned towards you, “and the man who is waiting to reveal himself as her future husband.” You scanned the room. The chair on the other side of Colum was still empty. There was no sight of Dougal; was he to be your husband? You looked for Murtagh but he was not present either. They were both probably waiting outside the hall, and one of them would walk in when Colum would ask for your husband to reveal himself. “So, we have come to the point where it is only fair to this lady to know who her husband will be.” Here we go. “May I ask for the husband-to-be of Y/N to step into the hall?” Everyone had gone quiet and you could hear footsteps approaching. You closed your eyes, not daring to look at who it would be. The footsteps got closer until they stopped. “It will be hard to see who I am when ye’ve got yer eyes closed, lass,” someone said. You did not recognize the voice to be Dougal’s and when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the friendly, brown eyes of Murtagh. Were you relieved? Murtagh took your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles, followed by a small wink; so small that you were sure only you could see it. Were those small butterflies in your stomach? You could feel your cheeks starting to get red and you quickly looked down. “It is an honour to marry ye, Y/N.” You looked up and smiled at him, not sure what to say. Murtagh had let go of your hand and made his way to his seat. You noticed that Dougal had made his way into the hall as well and a slight hint of jealousy could be detected on his face, though you were unsure why. “A toast,” Colum started, raising his glass and you and everyone else followed him, “to the bride and groom to be.” Everyone raised their glasses higher and took a sip. You took a big sip of the strong – stronger than you expected – wine. “As I mentioned, the wedding will take place tomorrow and I promise that it will be an even bigger feast than tonight and you’re all invited!” This announcement was followed by a lot of people shouting and raising their glasses. You looked at Murtagh and even he was smiling slightly. You would be married to this man tomorrow…

Tag list:

@hobbitsesoftheshire

@mysticalsoups

[moonlight-rider25]

Jamie Fraser vs. Virginity

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Rated R, smut, unprotected sex, etc.

Summary

You've found yourself submerged in Jamie Fraser's attention. A gentleman, he refuses to make you do anything you're not ready and willing to do. A few pails of ale and songs from the drunken crowd; you find yourself entangled in more than just his embrace. Will your virginity scare him off as he finally has the chance to get his hands on you alone?...

His back muscles strain as he hovers gently over your body. You feel him ready and willing against your inner thigh. Reaching up gently, you stroke softly; his spiky stubble along his cheek and exhale heavily as you stare into his deep blue eyes.

“(Y/N)” He groans low as he pants heavily still watching you squirm beneath him.

“I want you…and I'm ready…” you tell him grinding your core up towards him with a deep breath and harsh swallow.

His lips meet yours again and you release all your body's tension beneath him as he closes the gap between the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls away again. He strokes a stray piece of hair from your face as your chest heaves waiting for him to take you; to fully engulf himself within you.

Your core quivers as his hand runs down your check, neck, across your breasts and nipples; which are fully erect from his touch. His hand trails down the front of you; from your rib cage, down across your stomach. His hand inches slowly closer down towards your waist, across your soft mound, finally stopping at the aching entrance of your core.

“Mmmmm” He grumbles lowly into your ear, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.

You bite back a gasp in your mouth as his touch ignites a fire within you. His face meets yours again as he lines himself up with you. His pulsating cock twitching to feel your wet walls wrapped around him.

With your mouth a gap and his steady movements, his forehead meets your mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck as he gently begins pressing in against your soaking folds.

You groan out feeling him slide within you finally.

“Jamie!” You cry feeling his tip enter you.

He holds back, making sure to take his time to slowly open you as he presses deeper.

He sucks at your throat as he presses deeper, one thrust at a time deeper within you. His cock pressing between your folds and opening you further with each thrust.

You moan out again, and he stops meeting your eye again.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks in his thick accent.

You smile up at him. Pulling him closer wrapping your legs around his round little ass. You swallow back the words as you pull him closer and he looks down at your body, curving up towards him as he quickly lines himself again back up with you, and presses back firmly within your core. He jolts your body as he slams into you. Once, twice, three times before your eyes roll back in your head and you finally allow the roll of ecstasy to wash over your body.

“Yes!” You cry out against him.

He smiles down at you; thrusting again, back into you, as your body jolts beneath him.

“Harder!” You groan. Pulling at his neck as he obeys your wish and slams in against you.

You feel the waves rising up from your legs washing over you as he continues to slam impossibly inside you. Your breath is uncountable as your gut clenches and you arch yourself up against him.

“Right…There!” You cry as he thrusts and you hear his breath catch in his throat before releasing his tension against your entrance. Smiling against you as his high becomes unavoidable. You both pant against each other as the waves wash over you both and you feel yourself come undone beneath him. His movements sporadic and unjust as he empties himself inside you and slumps over against your damp body beneath him.

His hot breath on your collar bone as your bodies twitch through the orgasms, pulsing through your veins. Your breaths still ragged as his lips meet yours and you feel him remove himself from you. You run your hand over his stubble again and groan a bit as he removes himself from within you and rolls over on his side; his arm draped over your waist as he pulls you against him, and you sigh deeply against his chest as your breaths begin to slow rhythmically with one another…

[cyarskaren52]

I have lived here for over a week 🪀 Jamie blew me up. I'm struggling between "Kill them all" "Let's go get my wife" "I'm a violent man" each with his face progressively getting harder. His rage is palpable. I can hardly breathe, goosebumps from head to toe. I'm so turned on❤️‍🔥

[zepskies]

Outlander || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: So this is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a lot of research for this whole series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for smut, Protective Dean, (and rogue/cowboy Dean), survival situations, hunting (in the more traditional sense), suggestiveness/implied smut and spice throughout, angst, blood and violence, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. (Plus other chapter-specific tags.)

Chapters:

Part 1 - Two Worlds - Coming to Patreon: Dec. 27 || Coming to Ao3/Tumblr: Jan. 3

Part 2 - What is Home

Part 3 - A Warrior's Death

Part 4 - One People

Series coming soon!

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