#gone camping again. see y’all next week

[captainmvf]

AFK for a bit- Be back soon!

#mvf art #gif #sona #puppet sona #gone camping again. see y’all next week

[doc-pickles]

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 1)

series masterlist

summary: sid meets nikita’s best friend and runs into a ghost from the past

warnings: none! :)

author’s note: hello! sooooooooo I have probably a million other things to do/write but this came to me and I knew I needed to write it. this is going to be a series and will probably be a lot angstier than my vegas series. I have some ideas for what’s going to happen and I can’t wait to share them with y’all!! anyways I hope yall enjoy this!

xoxo

nina

(ps - title is from ‘always been you’ by shawn mendes)

It starts off innocently enough. He’s at Geno’s for dinner like he does once a week. Nikita is babbling away next to him about everything he’s learning in first grade.

“And Mrs. Riley is super nice and I get to sit next to Vivie who always shares her fruit snacks,” Nikita says all of this at a speed that Sid can barely comprehend but he simply nods at his godson.

“Always with Vivie,” Anna coos as she ruffles Nikita’s hair, her other hand coming to rest against her swollen belly. “Attached at the leg you two.”

Sid chuckles and gently corrects Anya which has her rolling her eyes as she squeezes his arm. Being with his best friend and his family made going home to an empty house hard, but Sid knew he wouldn’t trade his weekly dinners at the Malkin house for anything.

“Vivie is my best friend in the whole world,” Niki rambles on as he runs out of the room. He comes back with a picture frame and shows it proudly to Sid. “This is us at science camp over the summer.”

Sid’s brows furrow as soon as he looks at the photo. The little girl with her arm wrapped around Nikita is a bit shorter than him, dirty blonde hair pulled back into braids. Her big brown eyes are staring up at the camera, upturned nose and gap toothed grin framed with freckles and a set of dimples. Sid stares at the photo for probably a bit too long, the little girl looking somehow familiar even though he knows he’s never met her.

“Nice picture Niki,” Sid smiles when he finally tears his eyes away from the frame. Anya is watching him carefully but doesn’t say anything as Nikita begins talking about how much he loves math.

The rest of the night is uneventful, Geno’s steak and potatoes going over well with everyone at the table. If he and Anya notice that Sid is quieter than usual they don’t say anything to him. It’s not until he’s playing outside with Nikita after dinner that Sid catches his friends whispering to each other as they wash dishes.

When he gets home later Sidney doesn’t even take his shoes off before he’s walking down the hallway to his study. The photo album is tucked into the farthest bookshelf, the dark leather binding helping it to blend in. But he knows exactly where it is, exactly what it feels like in his hands. He pulls it off the shelf and holds it for a moment before opening it to the first page.

‘To Sidney, the love of my life. Happy anniversary babe!

xoxo A’

The handwriting is loopy and decidedly womanly. He traces his fingers over the words reverently before flipping the page. Sid’s breath hitches as his eyes lock on the photo there. Blonde hair, shining green eyes, and a dimpled smile so wide he still sees it every once in a while when he closes his eyes.

There’s a part of him that wants so badly to flip through every page, to take in the smiling woman on the pages and the version of himself that seems to have faded without her. Instead he closes the photo book, shelving it again before he goes out to the living room and pours himself a glass of scotch.

“Why the hell am I still here if you can’t make me a priority Sidney?”

“I’m trying! Don’t you see that? But I also have a team to think about, a whole fucking franchise riding on my shoulders! Don’t they matter too?”

The night and all of his regrets replayed in Sid’s head often. Annie’s tear soaked face, the words they both carelessly yelled at each other. His front door slamming, her things gone from his house by the time he came back from his next road trip.

He’d wanted Annie and hockey, wanted her to see that he was trying to make them both a priority but it hadn’t been enough for her. He hadn’t been enough for her.

And in the end none of it had mattered because three weeks after their argument Sid had shattered his knee in what would be his last game as a Penguin.

Yeah he missed hockey, but he missed Annie Wright more than anything else.

+

A week later Anna’s water breaks in the middle of the night. Sidney drives over and crashes on Geno’s couch as they head to the hospital together. When he wakes up Nikita is poking his cheek with a frown.

“Hey bud,” Sid yawns as he wipes a hand over his face. “Your mom and dad went to the hospital, looks like you’re gonna be a big brother soon.”

Nikita seems wholly unimpressed as he looks at his godfather, “Can we get McDonald’s breakfast before school?”

And because he’s a sucker for Niki, Sid agrees.

By the time they’re pulling up to Nikita’s school Sid is more awake, parking and following Niki up the path to his classroom.

“I’ll pick you up later too bud,” Sid tells him as he ruffles his hair. “Then maybe we can go see your little sister.”

“Nikita!”

Both Sidney and Nikita whip around at the excited voice, watching as a little girl runs up to them. Sid immediately clocks her as Vivie from the picture Nikita showed him. She’s sporting white overalls and a pink sweater, her blonde curls bouncing around in the pigtails fastened high on her head.

Vivie hugs Niki tightly then blinks up at Sid and he swears the air just got much thinner because he can’t pull in a full breath, not when he feels like he’s looking in a god damn mirror. Vivie has the same big hazel eyes as him, the same jutting chin and furrowed brows. But her smile and those dimples… Those remind Sidney of someone else.

“Vivie! You left your lunchbox in the car,” the voice that haunts his dreams is suddenly right behind Sid and before he can think better of it he turns around.

Annie looks much the same as she did eight years ago, her heart shaped face and wide green eyes exactly how he remembered them. Her blonde hair is shorter, resting just above her shoulders now. There’s something else Sid can’t quite put his finger on but he thinks that Annie doesn’t hold that same infectious joy she used to.

“Oh my god,” Annie breathes the words out slowly as she makes eye contact with Sidney. “I- Oh my god…”

“Miss Annie, this is my Uncle Sid,” Nikita explains excitedly. “My mommy is having a baby so Uncle Sid got me McDonald’s and took me to school!”

Annie schools her features as she tears her gaze away from Sid and pastes on a smile for Nikita, “That’s so exciting! I’m sure you’re excited to be a big brother.”

The school bell rings then and Vivie and Nikita waste no time hastily saying goodbye before running off hand in hand. When they’re out of sight Sidney turns to Annie who’s white as a sheet as she stares at her shoes.

“Annie,” the word is low and laced with hurt as Sid focuses on the woman he used to love. “Annie please tell me you didn’t… That she’s not…”

Sidney can’t bring himself to say the words out loud, even though he’s almost positive they’re true. Vivie’s face is ingrained in his mind now, showing up every time he blinks. His eyes, Annie’s smile… He stares at Annie and begs her to tell him anything but what he knows is true.

Please don’t tell me you had our daughter and kept it from me. Please don’t tell me I’ve missed seven years of her life. Please don’t tell me that perfect little girl has been so close and so far. Please. Please. Please.

“Sidney, I am so sorry.”

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nina writes

[demonbanisher]

More cowboy AU for y’all today @wolfstarmicrofic

TW: for mild discussions of internalized transphobia and homophobia, and discussions of historical violence and on-going racism against Indigenous peoples

Nomad

“The truth about stories is that’s all we are.” - Thomas King

“Did you know the Indigenous people to this area were nomadic?” Remus asked, they had gone out on their camping trip and were laying next to their dwindling campfire watching the stars. Remus was right. There were so many more out here like salt spilt on black granite. “And then we killed as many of them as we could and took their land from them. Put up borders where there weren’t any and gave them the worst places to live.”

“I can’t say I know much about them,” Sirius said. “Any time my family talked about people who were different from us, it was just to say how awful they were.”

“Some people around here think that way. There’s protests sometimes or a group of advocates will damage someone’s barn or feed stores and then people get angry. I never quite understood why they felt their anger was justified but the Indigenous people’s wasn’t. I mean we took everything from them. Told them everything they ever believed was wrong. They didn’t think about gender the way that we did. I wondered if we’d listened to them, if we learned from them, how things would be different today.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“James. His family lives out on the reserve, but he’s good with horses and there’s enough places in town that won’t hire rez kids so he wound up here. Told my dad he’d break our toughest stallion in a week or he could send him packing.”

“And?”

“He did it in four days. He’s the gentlest thing now. Honestly, James is half the reasons our horses stay alive as long as they do. He understands them in a way that we can’t.” Remus sighed and stuffed his hands into the bag of trail mix, throwing another handful into his mouth. “The world is all just stories, isn’t it? It’s just a matter of whose stories get told.”

“And what about your story?” Sirius asked, twisting onto his side so he could look at Remus. 

“I don’t think there’s anyone who would want to listen.”

“I do,” Sirius said, and he took a leap as he reached out to wrap his fingers gently around Remus’s, his heart hammering in his chest.

“We can’t have this,” Remus whispered, but didn’t move his hand from Sirius’s.

“And who told you that story?”

“I can’t remember anymore,” Remus said as he closed his eyes. “It feels like something I’ve always known, like a fairytale so familiar to me that I know how it’s going to end.”

“Maybe we can write a new story,” Sirius said, rolling onto his back and turning his eyes skyward again. 

Remus was quiet for awhile next to him. The coals of the fire popped and hissed as it died out and the darkness crept closer to them. Every once in a while Sirius would squeeze his hand to let him know that he was still there. That he wasn’t alone. 

Eventually, Remus turned to face him and Sirius did the same. “Were you scared when you left home?”

Sirius moved a little closer so he could see him better. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Remus nodded.

“I’m always scared. But I woke up one day and realized I couldn’t spend the rest of my life letting someone write my story for me. Stealing that car, running away, it felt like the first real thing I’d done in years. The first thing I’d actually done that wasn’t chosen for me. All the sudden I wasn’t fictional anymore.”

Remus studied his face closely before reaching out a hand to cup the side of Sirius’s face.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked.

“Becoming real.”

“And what’s the first real thing you want to do?”

“I want to look at the stars,” Remus said and then he leaned forward and kissed him. 

#wolfstarmicrofic #wolfstar cowboys au #t4t wolfstar

[campbluelake]

Can’t Get No Connection, Can’t Get Through | Ch4 Motive

Two weeks have passed since the creepy nightmare circus carnival has made itself a part of your lives. You have managed your best in this time. You’ve played a lot of DDR and Frogger. You’ve eaten more funnel cake than is advisable.

Yet, all good things must end. On the morning of the... the date is fuzzy but it must be the 19th, right? Ranger Buddy messages you over the walkie-talkie.

“Well it seems like you are quite enjoying yourselves these past few weeks. Almost makes you forget about everything else, doesn’t it?”

He pauses for dramatic effect, but before he can continue, a loud feedback noise can be heard, and an image overwhelms your brain.

It’s as though you’re overlooking the camp from some bluff that you know doesn’t exist. The sun is slowly eclipsed by a black, featureless figure--just barely humanoid with shoulders and a head. It looms over the camp, bright white dots for eyes bore down at the landscape. Its form shifts like liquid, two hands and arms distending from its inky mass. Its fingers dig into the earth around the camp and lift it out, pulling it close to its chest and cradling it.

Ranger Buddy doesn’t seem to notice this, and as soon as it is gone, he picks up where he left off.

“So I thought to myself - maybe it’s better if y’all just f-“

The feedback returns, and with it another vision appears in your mind.

Shadowy figures roam the campsite. Their wanderings are aimless and their dispositions are vacant. They pass by each other with little to no interaction. Their countenances brighten and shift into lively action when a snake enters their proximity, but that burst of life leaves them once the snake has slithered off to the next party. The laughter and joy that the small reptile pulls from the figures is familiar. You hear these sounds everyday.

And then it is gone.

“What is with these dang contraptions today! Maybe the batteries are on the fritz. Goodness gracious.”

“Anyways, as I was saying before, it’s probably better if you forget about all that other stuff. Things outside the camp and such. The outside world. You clearly want to stay here if y’all are going so long without killing each other, right? So I’m gonna do just that, a-”

The feedback cuts Ranger Buddy off once more. This has taken far longer than he has planned.

Before your eyes is a thick and aged leather bound book. It has seen wear and tear over centuries, fraying, cracking, and tearing in the various corners. Pages flutter as the book flips open to indecipherable words written carefully upon itself. Slowly, but steadily, drops of blood fall upon the book, and the droplets slowly sink into the divets of written word. With more blood, the writings light up with an eerie and malevolent glow. The cascade of blood increases as more blood flows into every crevice of the book, and soon enough, the script beams light that nearly blinds. What's left of the book after the burst of light is a supernatural blaze that eats away at the blood fuel and paper pages. It is a blaze that burns bright green.

“Dang thing keeps cutting in and out can’t hear a danggone... oh it’s back! Like I was saying before I get cut off again, you’re gonna start forgetting the outside world. It’s not relevant to your new life here and all. If y’all do have an attachment to the outside, and want to get outta here, you gotta kill. Do that and I’ll restore all y’all’s memories. Every last one. Tho I s’pose if you forgot it then you wouldn’t remember if you didn’t get it back but I’ll keep my w-”

Ranger Buddy is cut off one final time by a blast of feedback. With it, another vision accompanies you.

You see your reflection in a mirror, staring back at you. It’s you, but it isn’t you. It reaches out towards the glass while your own hand remains at your side, pounding on it with a closed fist. The glass cracks outwards in a spiderweb, distorting the image until you no longer recognize the person on the other side. Something dark oozes from the cracks. 

“Gosh Darn dang... Well y’all get the gist I’ll quit while I’m ahead. If you want to stop losing memories and get your old ones back, you know what to do. Enjoy the rest of your day now.”

The walkie-talkies go silent, and a few things cross your mind. What could you possibly forget? What have you forgotten already? Was that the closest Ranger Buddy has gotten to swearing in his life or death?

As you contemplate this, a new voice enters your thoughts. One different from Buddy’s, or anyone from the dreams and visions you’ve had in your camp experience prior. It is a bestial sound, that tugs at something primal inside of you.

<A bastardized destiny looms on your horizon. Do not fear it.>

<To defy one's fate is the birthright of humanity;>

<To deny it, your mantle.>

<Know this, and face your choices thus.>

<They are yours alone to make.>

#ch4 #ic

[clareguilty]

Arthur Morgan/reader, desperate sex

Here is my second fic for kinktober! The next should be up on Wdnesday <3

Arthur Morgan/fem!reader | desperate sex, dominant Arthur Mentions of death and injury, mild angst. I made the cowboy cry. Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2000

“Who goes there?” a gruff voice demanded as you rode up the trail to camp.

“It’s just me, Bill,” you called back, tipping your tattered hat.

“What the hell?!” He blinked and rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. “You’re alive?”

You grinned, opening your arms wide. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

He watched dumbfounded as you rode the rest of the way up to Horseshoe Overlook. You had been gone more than a few days, and your worst fear was that the gang would have packed up and left. The job had gone terribly -- so terribly you had been stranded and lost with no way back -- which was a good reason for the gang to move on to somewhere where the law didn’t know their faces.

But everything was exactly the same. People milled about, scrubbing or packing or chopping. Dutch’s gramophone played on, louder than a dynamite blast and seemingly never ending.

“What in god’s name?” Hosea took one look at you, bruised and battered and covered in every inch of wilderness you had hiked through trying to get back to camp.

“Glad to see y’all are still here.” You groaned in pain as you slid out of the saddle, smacking your ‘borrowed’ horse on the rump and pointing her back to the road. “Go on, girl. Find your way back home.”

The horse slowly headed back the way it came. Hosea was staring at you.

“I know,” you frowned. “I look terrible.”

“No,” Hosea waved his hand, shaking his head. “It’s not that -- though you do look like shit. We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

It was your turn to look taken aback. “Dead? You gave up on me that quick?”

“Sweetheart.” He gripped your arm as if he was still trying to convince himself you were real. “You fell off a bridge. Those rapids… the rocks…” he trailed off.

You grimaced. “It certainly wasn’t my best performance.”

“There wasn’t any time to go back and look for you, but we weren’t even sure we would have found a body.” He looked ashamed. “We failed you.”

“No,” you took his hands in yours, squeezing. “You did what you had to do. I couldn’t bear it if you had lost someone trying to come back for me.”

Sean was walking by, bottle in hand. He did a double take when he saw you standing there, glanced at his bottle, and then back at you. “You mean Dutch gave that long fancy speech for nothing? You had better not die again.”

You laughed and shot him a wink. “I don’t plan on it.”

Sean seemed satisfied with that response. “Your man’s been a right mess since we lost you. Hopefully he quits moping around all the time now.”

“Arthur?” you glanced around. “Is he alright? Where is he?”

Sean shrugged. “Probably the same place he’s been for a week now.”

You turned to Hosea, desperate. “Where?”

“He’s been at his wagon mostly. I didn’t want him going out in the state he’s been in.”

His words only made you more worried. You had finally made it back to camp. All you had been able to think about -- the only thing on your mind as you clawed your way out that ravine and stumbled through the woods -- was that you had to get back to him. You couldn’t leave him. “Is he hurt? Did something happen?”

Hosea didn’t get the chance to answer. Whispers of your arrival back at camp must have spread fast, because Mary-Beth was dragging Arthur by the arm to where you and Hosea were standing.

“Arthur.” You were running -- as fast as you could move with all your injuries and exhaustion. He finally saw you, freezing in place and staring in disbelief.

You slammed into his chest, flinging your arms around him.

He hesitated before returning your embrace, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. The two of you stood there for a long while as you sniffled into his chest. Arthur held you tightly, as if you would disappear if he let go.

“Isn’t this sweet,” a familiar booming voice rang out. “Glad to see you alive and well, dear.” You didn’t even turn to look at Dutch. Not when Arthur was clinging to you.

The ground disappeared beneath your feet and you found yourself hoisted over Arthur’s shoulder. The crowd that had gathered around the two of you dispersed as he stalked across camp. The world flipped right side up again as Arthur sat you on his horse, swinging into the saddle behind you and taking off at a full gallop.

You made it to Valentine in record time. The ride was harsh and agitated your injuries, but you didn’t mind with Arthur at your back. He helped you down to the ground and practically carried you inside the hotel, slamming the door open. “A room for me and my wife, please,” he demanded.

The hotel clerk handed over the key. You clung to Arthur the whole way up the stairs, nuzzling against him and just glad to be near him again.

The lock clicked behind you and Arthur… changed. His embrace became more insistent. His eyes darkened. The edge of the bed hit the backs of your knees and Arthur laid you down. It was gentle, but he pressed you into the bed, climbing over you. “Where are you hurt?” he asked.

“It’s not too bad-” you tried to play it off.

He cut you off. “Where. Are. You. Hurt.”

It was terrifying, but thrilling. You shivered under his intense gaze. “My hip,” you grabbed one of his hands and gently lay his palm over your hip. “Makes walking and riding hard.”

He nodded. Clearly waiting for you to continue. “My back is pretty messed up, and my shoulder.”

He noticed the rips and tears in your shirt. All the places you had scraped or torn. His hands went to the buttons, lifting you carefully so he could get you out of the sleeves.

Your trousers were next, slowly pulled down over your hips. When you winced in pain, Arthur stopped to kiss you, cradling your face in his hands.

He stripped you down. His expression was pained as he took in the full extent of your injuries. You had fallen off of the rail bridge and gotten swept into the freezing rapids. The current slammed you into the rocks and swept you down the ravine before you washed up on the bank of the river. From there, it had been a grueling process of making your way out of the ravine and through the woods.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you reassured him. Glancing down, you got a good look at just what he saw. “It does look pretty bad, though,” you frowned.

Arthur’s expression was hard to read. You wondered if he was disgusted by you. It would take a long time to heal, and you knew he might not want to look at you while you were so beat up and battered.

He nearly collapsed on top of you. Luckily, he knew to brace his weight. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breaths ragged.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he gasped. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. “I’m still here,” you promised. “Busted and bruised to hell, but I’m not gone yet, honey.”

He kissed his way along his jaw until he found your lips. It was perfect. You had missed him so much, so worried you would never make it back to him. But now you were here in his arms and kissing him. 

“I love you,” you said as soon as you caught your breath.

“I love you so much, darling.” He hovered his hands just above your skin, too scared to touch you.

You placed your hands over his and guided it to where you weren’t scraped or bruised. “Touch  me,” you begged.

He sighed as soon as he felt your skin against his palms, as if he just needed to know you were really there.

“I need you,” you tried to pull him against you, attempting to slot your hips together. “Please, Arthur.”

He hesitated. You could see the desire in his eyes, how badly he needed you, needed to feel you. But he didn’t want to hurt me. You would have to convince him.

“Arthur,” you grabbed the waistband of his pants. “I fell off a bridge and climbed out of a ravine and walked across half the damn state. I want you to fuck me, and I don’t care if it hurts.”

He seemed dazed, but lust clearly won out as you tried to slide your hand under his shirt. He was undressed in seconds, kissing his way over your neck and unable to keep his hands off you.

The pain was bearable, and you were too distracted with the warmth of Arthur’s skin under your hands. You couldn’t get enough of him, so glad to be near to him after all of those cold nights in the wild. 

He was impatient, desperate. He wanted all of you at once, and he didn’t know where to start. Now that you had given permission, he wasn’t afraid to take what he needed. And take he did. He sucked a mark into your collarbone before kissing down to your chest. You gasped as his lips found your breasts, teeth scraping along the skin.

“Please,” you rocked your hips.

He got the message, gently pressing your thighs apart so he could stroke your clit. It felt so good. The stretch when he slipped two fingers inside made you cry out. You sighed and pulled him closer, winding your fingers in his hair as he pulled moans and gasps from your lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “Good girl. I wanna hear you.” He doubled his efforts, determined to make you come around his fingers.

You pulled him up for a searing kiss, biting his lip as you came. “Fuck me,” you breathed.

He was just as needy, cock hard and aching against your hips. He grabbed your less injured leg and hooked it around his hip, dragging his cock against your slit. The teasing was going to drive you mad, but luckily he was just as impatient. He sank into you with one slow motion.

He hissed a curse against your skin, lost in the feeling of you around his cock. “God, darling. Need you so bad.”

He didn’t even try to start slow, setting a quick, frantic pace as soon as he began to move. His fingers dug into the bruises on your skin, but you didn’t mind the pain. It only reminded you that Arthur was there, that you had made it home to him.

You were so close, clinging to each other so desperately. You couldn’t imagine what Arthur had been through the past several days. He had truly believed you were gone, he had been in mourning. While you were focused on not getting eaten by wildlife, he was grieving your death.

It made sense why he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, why he sighed so deeply every time his hips met yours. The way he drank the taste of your lips as if he could never get his fill. You gave him everything you could.

The two of you went three rounds that night, fighting through your exhaustion in a desire to be close to one another. You fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, curled together on the rickety hotel bed.

“I can’t stop seeing it,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off you. “The sight of you falling off that bridge, the way you just disappeared. It’s kept me awake every night.”

You can see it. The dark circles under his eyes, how haggard and underfed he looks. You can only imagine how broken up he must have been.

“Not tonight,” you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You have me here, safe and sound.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #smut #kinktober 2021 #lemons

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #female reader #monster romance #orc x reader #angst #orc

[officialscaramouche]

Three is company— a gift for @ambers-glider ‘s fic here! I told y’all I’d get to writing today!!!!

EDIT: Tomo is the friend (Tomo is short for tomodachi which is friend in japanese)

pairing: Kazuha x Gorou x reader

tw: a couple curse words

wc: 2,178

You squatted around the fire with your colleagues, eating your food straight from the can. “[Y/N]!” You hear your squad leader call out from his tent. You turn to look at what he wanted and note him standing with a messenger from the base of operations you just left. He waved what looked like a white flag. It piqued your interest, you had to admit, stretching out your legs with your can in hand.

“Yes, sir!” You salute, slapping your ankles together in form.

Your squad leader extended his hand, exchanging an open letter with you. “A letter. From the resistance,” he says simply. “From the second in command himself.”

It didn’t take the second sentence for you to know who it was. Of course, Kokomi was the leader of your resistance— all of you worked for her. But her second in command was none other than the tricky Gorou, known for his sly and mischievous ploys. “Thank you, sir,” you salute once more before dipping to tear into the letter.

It sucked that none of your mail could go through unopened, but it made sense considering that any one of you could be shogunate spies. It was a small price to pay for your cause, even if the letter was a bit personal.

[Y/N], it read. I hope this letter finds you well. After yours and Kazuha’s leave, I dove into my work to try and distract myself from the aching in my heart. Seeing many of my comrades fall in the recent ambush made me long for you more. I cannot ignore it much longer, so I have written to both you and dearest Kazuha in hopes that we may once again be reunited. We should all be returning to base in two weeks for the monthly review. Please find me there. I look forward to seeing you. Gorou.

“Oh?” A voice came behind you. “Everyone wondered what was going on between you and the shiba boy. I guess this proves true?”

You pulled the letter to your chest, scowling at the man who sat beside you. “Do you need something, sir? Why is my business important to you?”

He smiled, throwing an arm around you. “Damn, I was just curious!” You shook his arm off of you and turned your back to him. “I’m sorry that we have to go through your letters. But I’m sure you understand.”

You frowned as your eyes scanned the letter again. “I do,” you sigh. Bringing the letter to your nose and breathing in the scent. It smelled like otogi wood. It smelled like him. “But it does suck that everyone in command knows about my affairs.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

You peer over your shoulder and glare. “I do mind you asking.” You hissed.

The two weeks went by painfully slow. Your team was sent to do reconnaissance once more after the ambush that Gorou mentioned in his letter. While it wasn’t your team that was tasked with scouting that area prior to his arrival, it was your command team that got in trouble for it. Everyone was expected to do seamless work and the weight was on your team’s shoulders.

You double checked your field of observation; replacing your traps, checking the knots, and notating all of your activities. Signing off and turning in your report, you packed all of your equipment and belongings and darted out of the camp.

It was good to finally be back on base. All you wanted to do was get into your room and hop into the shower. You weren’t about to meet your exes sweaty and covered in dirt. You step inside and stop at the front desk. “Welcome back [Y/N],” the receptionist greets. “What number did you reserve?”

“Twenty three,” you slide over the key, lugging your duffel bag onto the table. You unzip the bag and fish for your personal belongings as the receptionist grabs your locker key. “I’m returning the reconnaissance pack and some gear.”

The receptionist scratches out your name on the clipboard and pulls the bag across the desk. “I heard you’re meeting with Master Gorou and Lord Kazuha.”

You slap your forehead with a groan. “Ugh, does everyone know?”

“Not everyone. I heard from Master Gorou himself. He told me to tell you he’d be in his office.”

“He’s here already?”

“Since seven this morning. He seemed rather eager to meet you.” The receptionist hands you the forms you signed to borrow the equipment. “Sign and date, please.”

You take the pen off the desk and begin to scribble on the document when the door slides open with a ding. “Oh, [Y/N],” a calm and melodious voice says. “What great timing!”

You shudder at the voice, turning slowly to confirm your suspicions. “O-Oh, hi Lord Kazuha…I just got back.”

The samurai walks up and places a hand on the small of your back. “Is Gorou here yet?”

“Yes,” the receptionist answers, taking the clipboard back from you. “He should be waiting in his office.”

“Great,” Kazuha smiles, grabbing your belongings off the desk and ushering you away with him. “Let’s go, shall we?”

You twiddle your fingers nervously as you walk. “I haven’t showered yet, my lord.”

“Oh that’s alright. I haven’t either.”

That wasn’t the point, you thought, reaching the elevator. “Well, I was hoping I could stop at my room and shower.”

Kazuha pushed one of the buttons on the elevator panel. “We’re already here, though.” You scratch your head and frown. “It’s okay,” he continues. “Master Gorou won’t mind.”

“Why do you smell like incontinence?”

You bury your face in your palms as you listen to Gorou and Kazuha speak. “Because I’ve been hiding in the trenches,” Kazuha laughs, opening his arms for a hug.

“You know I have a strong sense of smell,” Gorou whined as he embraced the samurai. “And [Y/N],” you look from between your fingers and notice the warm smile and faint blush on Gorou’s face. “It’s so good to see you too.”

The shiba boy walks up to you and pulls you into a tight embrace, his face nuzzled into your neck. “You’re stinky too.”

“Hey!” You shout, your hands reaching to wrap around him. “Kazuha didn’t want to stop at my room.”

Gorou pulls back and gazes into your eyes, his hand coming to cup your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ve been waiting around anxiously for both of you. Come,” he gestured, extending his arm out. “Please sit with me. I’ve got cookies and tea.”

Kazuha tucked his hands into his sleeves and grinned. He knelt down on the tatami pillow, sitting down on his knees and reaching for a cookie. You followed suit next to him, sitting back on your heels and taking the teacup from Gorou after he poured some tea. It was nice and light until Kazuha took a sip from his cup. “Why did you ask us to come here?” He said with a smile.

You stiffened at the question, your hair standing on end at the suddenly uncomfortable mood. You thought it was obvious why he arranged this meeting, but you guess that Kazuha wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

Gorou rubbed the back of his neck. “I mostly wanted to apologize,” he explained. “Whether or not you accept my apology is not my concern. But I do hope that we can agree to reconcile.”

“It’s very uncomfortable walking around after my superiors have gone through my mail,” Kazuha continued, closing his eyes as he sipped on his tea. “You could’ve at least been a bit more subtle with the delivery.”

“That was part of the problem, though.” The two of you watched and listened closely as Gorou spoke. When the three of you parted ways, it wasn’t on the best of terms. Being in each other’s presence was awkward enough as a result, but hearing him explain his side wasn't something that either you or Kazuha cared to understand. “Keeping both you and [Y/N] a secret was a problem to me. I understood that it would become a hindrance if people knew, but I couldn’t even hold your hand in public.”

Kazuha was silent as he spoke. Gorou and Kazuha had been a thing before you were introduced. But from the beginning you felt that things were tense between them. Being an outsider, the problem was more obvious than it was to them but it was something you felt they needed to work out. That’s why you left.

“And while it was okay for a bit,” Gorou continued, looking away as his words began to choke in his throat. “It was painful to love someone who didn’t even want to be called my ‘boyfriend.’ I don’t think you realize how embarrassing it is to say ‘oh, Kazuha’s my not-boyfriend because he doesn’t want to be tied down by titles.’ I understand that you don’t want a serious relationship but it felt like you didn’t care.”

“I was grieving,” Kazuha kind of snapped, his fingers curled into a fist. “Do you not understand that? My real boyfriend killed himself!”

“Am I not real to you?! Am I just your rebound to fuck and forget?! We are all grieving, Kazuha! We all loved Tomo! What about [Y/N], huh?! Is [Y/N] not real to you either?!”

Kazuha slammed his fist on the table. “Neither of you give a shit! Neither of you care about how I feel!”

Gorou stood on his feet, looking down at the man across from him. “Who was the person that begged you to stay, huh?! Throwing yourself into battle at every chance you got and then turning your back on me!! How dare you say I don’t give a shit!”

The three of you sat in uncomfortable silence after both men refused to say anything else. All you did was sit there and listen, not really feeling as if your opinion mattered. You weren’t in the relationship for very long anyway, why would you have anything to say?

Kazuha looked away from the both of you, while Gorou’s eyes focused on him. You sat with your hands in your lap, waiting for someone to say something. “What do you think, [Y/N]?” Kazuha said finally, not looking at you.

“Me?” You pointed to yourself. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Gorou said, sitting back down and reaching for your hands. “You were a part of the relationship too.”

“I’m not sure though…it didn’t feel like I was.” Kazuha looked over his shoulder, his cheeks wet from tears he had been hiding. “I wasn’t even a part of the conversation. You left—” you said, pointing to Kazuha. “—and you ignored me.” Then pointing to Gorou.

You crossed your arms with a huff. “Kazuha didn’t even try to talk it out, and Gorou wasn’t patient enough. Neither of you had any care about how I felt. I don’t even think you guys care now! All you want is for me to agree with you and argue with the other! But you’re both wrong! We all loved Tomo, Kazuha. It’s not fair that you shut all of us out. And it’s also not fair to Kazuha to try and force him to get over it so quickly! Everyone grieves at different paces. Just because you’re more used to your friends dying doesn’t mean he has to!”

They were both silent again as your words soaked in. You were right, of course. Gorou thought about the things he said and how he could’ve done it differently. How he had pushed Kazuha away instead of helping. And Kazuha thought about how selfish he was being. He wasn’t Tomo’s only friend and he wasn’t the only one who cared about him.

Then the silence was broken. “I’m sorry.”

Both of the men turned to look at you with confused expressions. “Why are you sorry?” Kazuha asked, grabbing your hands and pulling you close to him. “It’s not your fault.”

Gorou came around and joined in the hug, wrapping his arms around both of you. “Yeah, [Y/N] it’s not your fault. We’re the ones who fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“No,” Gorou shook his finger. “I said I was going to apologize first.”

“Well too bad!” Kazuha shoved a finger into Gorou’s chest. “I said it first!”

Gorou laughed, pinching Kazuha’s cheek. “No, [Y/N] said it first!”

You pushed them away from you and chuckled. “Now that you’re both feeling better, I was going to say ‘I’m sorry is what you should say to each other.’”

Kazuha tucked your hair behind your ear with a soft expression, before Gorou swooped in and peppered your cheeks with kisses. “Promise you’ll work on it?” You asked.

Gorou and Kazuha looked at each other lovingly, leaning in to kiss for the first time in a long time. “We promise.” They said at the same time.

#writing #Kazuha #Kazuha x reader #Gorou #Gorou x reader #three is company #Kazuha x Gorou #kazugorou #Kazuha x Gorou x reader

[saeyoungchoismaid]

The King

Pairing: King!Lucifer x f!reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: uh minor character death, mention of war?, fighting, near-death experience???  Summary: Prince Lucifer, the eldest son of King Henry, has been exiled from his kingdom, but when his father becomes sick, he's supposed to become king once his father passes. The future king is to marry (Y/n) to join their kingdoms together. Instead of him becoming king though, his father chooses Lucifer’s younger brother to become the king.  Word Count: 5.3k words A/N: this fic is entirely based on the movie The King on Netflix!! I let you guys vote on who the fic would be about and most of y’all said Lucifer, so you ask and you shall receive!! If you want a better understanding to what’s going on, feel free to watch that movie!! The first part is from 13:25 and kinda just goes from there 

You feel your heart drop to your stomach when the man announces to the king, “Your majesty. Prince of Wales.” Your husband-to-be leans forward to look down the long row of men at the entrance, confirming that, yes, his brother is in fact here. After all this time. 

“My son,” the king starts, “come in.” You rise with the rest of the crowd, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as he walks down the aisle to the king’s throne, your hands starting to shake from nerves. Just how long has it been? Lucifer stops a little ways away from you, his eyes trained on his father. You could hear a dog barking outside the castle from how quiet it is in the room. 

You stop breathing when his eyes flicker to the right to look at his brother, only to freeze when they spot you right by his side. You stare right back at him, the sound of your heartbeat filling your ears. Both of you look away from each other when the king takes in a deep inhale before speaking. 

“I feel my life nearing its natural end, and yet, still even I must appear of ruder health than you.” He pauses and you watch as Lucifer blankly stares in his father’s direction but not actually looking at him. “The time has come for us to consider the issue of my succession,” the King announces, ending the sentence with a cough. This part makes you feel sick suddenly. 

Lucifer doesn’t know yet of his father’s decision? 

“You will not be king,” he states abruptly. Lucifer doesn’t react physically but you can tell, just by his eyes, that he is surprised, and maybe a bit disappointed, by this news. “While you are my eldest son, for reasons that are on display for all here to see, you will not inherit this crown.”

“Nor have I sought it,” Lucifer quips before you can even blink, venom dripping from his words. 

“That privilege and responsibility will instead fall to your brother Leviathan,” the king informs him. At the mention of his name, Leviathan sits up straighter. Lucifer’s eyes move to him before once again finding yours, his brother not seeming to notice the look Lucifer gives you. Well, he didn’t really give you a look, per se. Again, it’s in the eyes. 

I guess he’s starting to catch on to where this is heading. 

“He is soft, but he is eager. He will lead my army against the newly treasonous Solomon.” Your eyes flicker to your fiance, seeing him take a deep breath and look down. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’s nervous about tomorrow. He wants to serve his father and make him proud. “I will assume that this news comes as neither surprise nor disappointment.” When you look away from Leviathan to focus back on the king and Lucifer, you find that Lucifer is, once again, staring at you. 

His gaze makes you feel pinned to your spot, air having a hard time finding its way to your lungs. “But it is my duty as king and father to say it to you directly.” His eyes finally leave yours to focus back on his brother, his eyes now pinning him to the floor. 

“And what of miss (L/n)?” Lucifer asks, your heart lodging in your throat at the mention of your name. All eyes turn to you but you can’t take your eyes off of those piercing, dark eyes. 

“Miss (L/n) is the bride to be of the next king, you know this,” King Henry informs. To prove his point, Leviathan reaches down and gently clasps your hand in his. You just hope that Leviathan doesn’t feel how clammy your hands are from how nervous you feel. You watch as Lucifer’s eyes flicker down to your conjoined hands, his own hands balling up into fists. 

“When do you fight?” he asks softly his younger brother, suddenly changing the subject.

“I set off tomorrow,” he informs, hand tightening on yours. “We fight by week’s end.”

“You need not fight. These feuds need not be yours,” Lucifer reassures instantly. You can see the fear and dread he holds for his brother. He’s never been much of a fighter. When you two would get into arguments, he’d either avoid the subject, instantly apologize, or avoid you altogether. When you were informed of his battle, you almost wanted to laugh. You’re sure that you’d do a better job at leading a war than he would be. 

“I have said what you were summoned to hear,” the king finalizes, bringing all of your attention back to him. Lucifer takes a deep breath as he looks up at the ceiling, clearly trying to keep his composure. “Leave us now.” Lucifer smiles, the clear disbelief he feels being evident. 

You watch on with solemn eyes as he leaves, your posture suddenly slumping with dread. So that’s that, you suppose. 

Luckily for your fiance and King Henry, you were the best healer in the country. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but you were quite good. Because of this, King Henry allowed you to go with his son to the battle. No one would say it out loud but you were all sure that Leviathan would somehow end up injured one way or the other. 

You walk alongside your husband-to-be, coming to stand beside him as he sits down in a chair. “Lord Simeon,” he greets before sitting. “Are your men ready for the day?” he asks once he’s sat down. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on it, a nervous habit that you’ve picked up over the years. 

“They are, sire.”

“Very good.” A pause ensues. “Tell me of your preparations.” When Lord Simeon doesn’t immediately respond, you cringe a bit. Leviathan just seems so awkward and out of place here. 

“My lord,” he warns, staring off behind you two. You turn around to find the true reason he had gone silent. 

Lucifer moves towards you all on top of a horse, his brows furrowing for a moment when he sees you. He slides off the horse as his brother asks him why he’s here. “I will not allow this havoc to transpire. I’ve come to see it stopped,” he replies, eyes moving to look at you. You think he’s going to address you but Leviathan speaks up before he can. 

“This is my battle,” his brother protests. 

“If I have my way, there will be no battle.” He pauses before walking in between you two, his side brushing yours. It causes a shiver to go down your spine and you’re disappointed by your reaction to such a simple thing. 

“You, come ‘ere,” he says to someone behind you. Your heart skips a beat at how demanding and confident he is. 

“My lord.”

“You have no place here!” his brother declares as he turns around to face him once more. You keep your back to him though, afraid of how your body will react to him. 

“Go to the rebel camp. Deliver the following message to Solomon. Tell him that Prince Lucifer challenges him to settle today’s score man on man. He and I. We will fight in our armies’ places.” This has you turning around to look at him, eyes widened and heart racing for a completely new reason now. 

Is he mad?

“Yes, my lord.”

“Who do you think you are?” the man who was answering to Leviathan just a few moments ago asks. 

“I am nobody to you,” Lucifer says with a shake of his head. Lucifer then turns away from him to walk to a tent to get armor, eyes connecting with yours as he passes. You want nothing more than to chase after him, beg him not to do it, but you know better. 

You know that once he puts his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. It’s something you’ve always both loved and hated about him. 

Despite this, you still find yourself following after him. 

You follow him inside an isolated tent, his back to you when you enter. You just stand there though, not knowing what to do or say. “You will not stop me, brother,” he says as he starts to unbutton his shirt. With no reply, he turns around and stops halfway down his shirt to look at you. Your eyes automatically move to his bare skin before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he slowly continues unbuttoning it. 

“I think you’re in the wrong tent, Miss (L/n),” he says lowly, almost playfully, causing your eyes to move up to his. You gulp a bit, trying to think of something, literally anything, to say. 

“I’m not. Why must you refer to me in such a way?” you reply, slowly walking further into the tent. He lets go of his shirt when he’s done with the buttons, his upper half on full display to you now. 

“In what way, Miss (L/n)?” he asks, eyes boring into your very soul. You suck in a breath as you stop at the table between you two, looking at the armor that covers it instead of looking at him. 

“Calling me that. You need not do so. You used to just refer to me as (Y/n),” you reply softly, fingers brushing across a chest plate that is cool to the touch. You’d rather be touching his chest but you would lose that finger if you were caught doing so. 

“That was when I thought you were my bride-to-be,” he informs. Your breath hitches at this, your fingers coming to a stop on the shiny metal. Does his heart beat for you the way yours does for him? Is he upset about losing you and not at the fact that he won’t be king? 

“You may still refer to me as such. This changes nothing…” you argue, eyes still refusing to look at him. Your heart skips a beat when he starts to walk, moving to go around the table to meet you. You avoid him though by going around the opposite way. 

“My brother’s sudden role of becoming the new king changes everything,” he argues, stopping on the spot where you once were. You stop in his old spot, finally moving your eyes up to meet his again. 

You find despair and desperation lingering in his eyes but you aren’t sure that if he knows you can read him so well. He’s so used to hiding his emotions and being seen as emotionless nowadays. 

“It doesn’t change the feelings I once held for you…” you whisper, suddenly afraid that someone might be listening in now. He stares at you silently for a long moment, your heart beating faster at his pause. 

“Does my dear little brother know that I was your first kiss?” he asks, tauntingly starting to walk around the table again, to which you reciprocate by redoing what you had done before. 

“Whilst I was yours too, if I recall,” you tease right back, a smirk coming to your face. He hums and stops at the other end of the table, pulling you to a stop too at your end. 

“So, what are we going to do? Keep playing this game of cat and mouse?” he asks as he slips his shirt off and drops it to the table, bringing his hands to the table to lean against it. Your eyes flicker to his arms, watching as his muscles roll under his smooth skin as he leans against it. You gulp before flashing your eyes back to his strong gaze. It takes you a moment to realize what he just said. 

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest, turning to look away from him. You don’t notice how his eyes move to your deep neckline then, drinking in the sight of your cleavage from the side. “Lucifer, you mustn’t say such things. You know we can’t…” you trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Maybe if you don’t say it out loud, it won’t come true. 

Maybe there is still a chance for you two. 

Before he can reply though, you hurriedly change the subject. “You’re a fool to want to fight Sir Solomon,” you jab. You wanted to beg him to take it back, to not risk his life for something that isn’t worth it but, again, you know it’d be fruitless. 

“I am no fool, Miss (L/n),” he replies shortly, tugging on a new tunic that has a thicker material. With that, you leave the tent. You mustn’t get such fairytale ideas, like the possibility of you two having a future, in your head. You are engaged to his brother, to the future king, and nothing can change that.

“You have no place here,” Leviathan asserts as soon as his brother comes out of the tent. He fixes his armor as he converses with his brother. 

“You do not know war, Leviathan,” is his calm reply to his frantic brother. 

“I do know war,” he argues. He doesn’t. 

“You do not,” Lucifer speaks your thoughts without knowing he did so. “You’ve been recruited to our father’s madness, to wars that need not be fought. These men are not our enemies. Our father has made them thus.”

“Why then are you here? You so disapprove of our cause and yet, still, you find it necessary to upstage me.” You aren’t able to hold back a snort. Leviathan is sounding more and more like a child throwing a tantrum by the minute. The duo turns to look at you at the sound, making you quickly start coughing to hopefully cover it up, knowing that if one of the other men heard you disrespecting the prince, the future king, in such a way, you’d surely be punished. 

Leviathan is too much of a coward to say anything to you about it though. 

“I do this not to steal your thunder, brother. I do it to save your life.”

“Pardon me, my lords. Our herald has returned from the rebel camp. They have refused Prince Lucifer’s offer. They want battle.” You can’t stop or deny the relief that fills your entire body. You watch as Leviathan walks away, once again reminding you of a child throwing a fit by stomping their feet. You don’t know why he’s acting in such a way though. He got what he wanted. 

You look to Lucifer to find him already looking at you, your heart skipping a beat from his gaze. You wordlessly follow after your fiance, not trusting yourself to be alone with the handsome male. 

Your eyes widen when you see the man of the hour ride up to your side of the battlefield, your fiance pushing through his men to reach the front. Without thinking, you follow after him. You don’t trust him to be civil or to not be a coward. 

“Where is Lucifer?” he calls, making your heart fall out of your chest and onto the dry ground. Has he reconsidered? “I come to fight him in our armies’ stead.” Yes, he did. Oh god, you might be sick. 

“No. His offer was refused,” Leviathan responds instantly, your eyes moving the back of your fiance’s head now. For once, you actually agree with the man-child. 

“The offer has been reconsidered.” No, no, no.

“I said no!” he shouts, making you cringe a bit. You don’t mean to be so mean to your future husband but he just doesn’t sound threatening at all. He really does just sound like a child to you. 

“Why is the little dog barking?” he asks and you want to laugh but you also know it’s not supposed to be funny. But, c’mon, he practically just read your mind! “Hm?” he hums with a taunting raise of his brow at your husband-to-be. “Where be the big dog?” he screams, making you flinch at his sudden volume. 

In a flash, Lucifer pushes through men and comes to stand beside you. “It will be done,” he says with his eyes trained on your enemy. He goes to move forward but you grab his wrist before you can tell yourself not to, his squinted eyes softening when he turns to look at you. 

“Lucifer, please,” you whisper for only him to hear, your eyes starting to sting. What if he gets hurt? Or worse.

Solomon chuckles to himself as he looks between the two of you. “And here I am with the whoring fool,” he starts, Lucifer seeming to not care about the words coming from his mouth. He was overall indifferent until his next words. “Have you claimed your brother’s wife to be as your own? I’m sure you’ve taken her innocence by now too. Takes a whore to know a whore.” Lucifer pulls himself from your grip and marches forward, coming to stand next to his brother. 

“This fight need not be had, Solomon,” Lucifer warns, doing his best to remain calm when really, all he wants to do is punch him in the jaw. “My father will soon be dead. Your grievances will die with him.”

“Don’t be afraid of our small contest, young Lucifer. I promise to finish it quickly and not embarrass you too much in front of your new whore,” he taunts before turning away from him. “Come on.” 

Lucifer is quick to move forward, his jaw clenched tight before it’s hidden by the helmet he slides on. His tongue poking the inside of his cheek is still very visible though, letting you know just how truly peeved he is. 

“Your father is plague to England,” Solomon declares as he slides his helmet face down. “Come for me, big dog!” he shouts as he points his sword at Lucifer. Lucifer does the same before getting into position, your whole body shaking from how nervous you are. 

They start to circle each other and do so for a moment before Solomon speaks up. “Once I claim your head, I might just claim your brother’s too before taking your whore. I think she’ll love bouncing on my cock and calling my name,” he taunts, trying to get a reaction out of him. 

A reaction he did receive. 

Lucifer instantly plunges forward with his sword, only to be blocked and pushed aside. The fight continues on for a while, each one getting in hits and gaining the upper hand before it’s the other’s turn. Your eyes leave them as three men ride up to the fight, watching the two hit and slice at each other. 

Lucifer ends up dropping his sword while Solomon is attacking him, slyly grabbing one of the other men’s daggers as he backs away from his opponent. Once they fall to the ground, fear swallows you whole as it seems that Solomon will deliver the final blow. Before he can though, Lucifer trips him and brings him crashing to the ground and before he can recover, he moves on top of him and stabs him in the neck. 

You almost cry from the relief that you feel. 

He removes Solomon’s helmet before marching towards his brother with it. “Someday this will be your head. Dropped at the feet of a man who might otherwise have been your brother. Come with me, Leviathan. Please. Walk away from this field.” You stare at Lucifer in awe, feeling just how much he cares for his brother. 

“After you just stolen its prized scalp?” He’s joking. He has to be. “This is what will be spoken of tomorrow!” He’s not joking. “This field was mine!” he shouts. God, you’ve already said this so many times but he really is just a child on the inside. He’s acting like Lucifer just took away his toy when it was his turn to play with it. “It was to mark my dominion. Instead, now it marks only this head. This bloody head!” You look between the two, hoping for Leviathan to just let it go and to realize that Lucifer just saved his life. 

“Move!” he screams. Guess no such thing will be happening today. You watch him go before turning to look at Lucifer, only to find him gone. You quickly pick up your skirts and walk speedily to the tent he was getting ready in. When you arrive, you find him tossing his armor off and dropping it to the earth. 

He stops when you come in, his eyes holding all of the words he left unsaid to his brother. He doesn’t say anything as he takes off the last of his armor, gently setting it down onto the table. Without thinking, you charge forward and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I thought you were to die out there today,” you whimper, letting your tears free and land on the ground by his armor. He softly shushes you as he wraps his arms back around you, gently rubbing your back with one hand while the other cradles the back of your head. 

“Shh, it’s alright, (Y/n). I’m alright. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, kissing your temple. You sniffle as you pull back, staring up at him with your watery eyes. You didn’t have time to pull away from him before his lips found yours. Now that they’re there though, you can’t bring yourself to deny him. You greedily kiss him back, praying that no one should walk in and find you two in such a vulgar state. 

He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, stealing the breath right out of your lungs and taking it for his own. Your hands move up his back to his hair, tugging on the long strands as he slips his pink muscle into your mouth. A moan tumbles past your lips and onto his without warning, making him hum and drag your body impossibly closer to his. 

A man’s barking laugh from outside of the tent snaps you out of your moment of relapsed judgment. You pull away from him and listen to you both pant, breathing in and out the same air from how close you are. “I must go,” you breathe before disappearing from the tent in the blink of an eye. Once outside of the tent, your hand grasps at your chest, trying to calm your racing heart and the blush that is surely spreading across your cheeks. 

It was odd hearing the news of Leviathan’s death soon after Lucifer had defeated Solomon. You had gone back to the kingdom, thinking the fight was over, only for your fiance to continue on in his desperate attempt to prove himself. He met his end in the western fields of Wales during battle. You didn’t cry though, you simply frowned and looked out the closest window to you. You never loved him, but you did care for him, just not enough for you to shed tears over his death.  

Soon after his death, you find yourself standing amongst the priests and minions of the king, frowning at the ill king as he rests in bed. He wasn’t the best king to rule but he was usually quite kind to you, so you held no hatred towards the man. You look away from him when you hear screaming, a sigh coming from you. 

His son doesn’t feel the same way, it appears. 

You watch him walk in, flinching a bit when he refers to his father as a monster. He walks past one of the men, saying as he walks past, “Move. Leave him.” 

“The king needs rest,” another man argues, standing up to the angered man before you. 

“Soon he will have it,” he quips, moving around this man as well. 

“He’s dying,” the man hisses, continuing to insist that he leave the king alone. 

“Leave,” Lucifer breathes, the single word dripping with venom. The man drops his argument then, slowly moving out of Lucifer’s way. When Lucifer reaches for his father’s covers, you step forward. 

“Lucifer,” you say softly but it was like you weren’t even there. He tugs the blankets off of him and drops them to the floor, moving around the bed to stand on the opposite side of you. It seems he also realizes that you’d be able to calm him if he just gave you the chance. 

He doesn’t want to be calm though. 

You stand still as Lucifer places his hands on the bed and moves to hover his head over his father’s, leaning in to whisper, “You feel this cold? Wretch.” 

You’ve never seen him like this before.

Your eyes begin to water as his father shakily tries to raise his hand to touch his son, your hands squeezing at the sides of your dress as you watch him gently touch Lucifer’s hair. Lucifer begins to rock, seeming a little unnerved by this. 

“Lucifer. Lucifer. You must be king, Lucifer. Please. You must be king, Lucifer.” It was honestly a strange sight to see him so weak, to see him begging his son for something so openly. Tears started cascading down your face as he starts to have trouble speaking, his face scrunching up in pain and...disbelief? Regret? Worry? Fear? You aren’t quite sure. “I know not what I have done,” are the king’s last words before he lets out one last groan before going still. 

You wipe at your eyes and cheeks, turning to watch Lucifer leave his father’s side to stand before the others. They all start to bow and get on one knee, your eyes widening a bit at the realization that he really is the king now. 

You lower yourself into a curtsey, watching fresh tears leave your eyes and fall to the wooden floors. “You know not what will become of you. So, I offer you this. The most blessed reprieve, the most dreadful misery. You shall suffer the indignity of serving me, the wayward son you so revile. But know now that you will be watched over by an altogether different king.” 

With that, he brushes past everyone to leave the room. You raise from your curtesy to quickly follow after him. You don’t bother calling out to him as you follow him, wiping away your final tears before taking a deep breath. 

When he finally stops, he is in front of a grand window that looks over the front of the castle and shows snippets of the town where he’s been living. “Lucifer,” you whisper as you come up to him, noticing that he seems to not hear you. You aren’t sure if this is because of how quiet you are or because he is stuck in his head. 

Becoming the king can do that to you. 

You quietly come up behind him and slowly wrap your arms around him, leaning into his back. You feel his body shaking, soft cries escaping him as you silently hold him. You feel his arms come up to rest on yours, tears splattering on your sleeves and skin. You let him cry though, not making a peep. 

There’s nothing you could say that would heal him right now. 

You’re there for every part of the ritual that Lucifer must complete to become king, your heart seeming to race the entire time. You don’t shout along with everyone else as he is pronounced king, everyone joyously shouting, “King Lucifer!” over and over again.

You’re right beside him at the table as you and the king's companions and allies eat to celebrate his success, your hands secretly conjoined with his underneath the table. Your new relationship, if you would even call it that, didn’t need to be a secret anymore, seeing as how he is king and you are to marry whoever the new king is to be, but just yesterday it was his brother and it almost feels wrong to be with Lucifer now.

Not that you were complaining one bit. The man beside you has had your heart since the beginning. 

You watch as the gift bearer announces gift after gift and you continue to watch on as Lucifer gives every single gift away to someone else. He’s so noble. It makes you swoon each time you see him act in such a way. It wasn’t until Dauphin’s gift was presented that his mood suddenly shifted. 

“From the Dauphin, son of his majesty Charles, King of France,” the announcer says before stepping to the side to allow Lucifer access to whatever was inside the decently sized box. Your brows furrow as you watch him stare down into the box, becoming more concerned the longer that he doesn’t move. He finally reaches in and takes out something that you cannot see. You don’t have to wonder for long what it is since he announces it. 

“A ball.” A heavy pause. “There is no accompanying message from the Dauphin?”

“No, my liege.” Another long pause. 

“I shall keep this gift. This one is sent only for me. For the boy I once was,” he says softly before throwing the ball against the wall and catching it single-handedly. You aren’t sure why such a simple action makes heat come to your cheeks. He then walks back over to his seat and sets the ball down but doesn’t set himself down. 

“I have a gift of my own that I’d like to present now,” he says as he raises his hand to cut off the announcer from announcing whoever’s gift was next. Everyone appears just as confused as you, your eyes turning up to look at him instead of the announcer. You find his eyes already on you, along with a gentle smile. “(Y/n),” he says as he offers you his hand for you to take. You wait for him to continue but he says no more. You gently place your hand in his and allow for him to help you stand, your free hand gathering up your dress. He leads you to the fireplace behind your chairs, the heat of the fire not helping the blush that appeared only a moment ago. 

“My darling (Y/n), ever since I met you, I knew you and I were to be wed someday. Now that I am king, that day is closer than ever before. I hope you will accept my gift,” he says softly to you, not really caring if others heard him or not. He then removes something from his pocket before going to one knee, your eyes widening even though you two are already engaged. You look down to your left hand and see the ring that has been passed down through his family for generations. His eyes move to where yours are, a small grunt leaving him as he brings one hand to take it off. “My gift to you is a proper proposal that you may decline if your heart so desires. I shall no longer ask you to be my wife because it is your duty. I shall ask you to be my wife because I want you to be.” Your eyes sting at his confession, your heart trying to beat out of your chest to fly into his hands. 

“I want to be with you too, Lucifer,” you whisper, afraid if you spoke any louder, your voice would give out. He smiles brighter than before as he slides the ring he picked out onto your ring finger, putting the old ring into the box in place of the new one.

He then stands and wraps his arms around you in a hug, your eyes burning from the oncoming tears. He swiftly pulls back though to share a passionate kiss with you, clapping and shouts of joy ringing around you. When you both pull away from the kiss, you let out a watery laugh as you look down at the beautiful ring. “You and I will rule this kingdom together until we meet our end. You shall be by my side every step of the way, no matter what hardships we may encounter. I love you, (Y/n).”

You sniffle and wipe at your teary eyes with a big smile. “I love you more, Lucifer.”

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[thatrandomwriter]

Taken Prisoner

Merle Dixon x female reader, set in Woodbury

Warnings : cursing, sexual language, violence

After checking several nearby stores and having one too many close calls with walkers, Glenn and I had finally found what we were looking for - baby formula for Judith. Maggie had offered to come too, but she was far better with the baby so it was just Glenn and I.

“We should get back, don’t wanna keep Judith waiting,” I said, eager to get out of the open and back to safety. You never could be too cautious.

Glenn nodded. I reached down, packing my bag and checking to ensure my gun was secure in my waistband, along with the couple of knives I had concealed about my person. It had become an unconscious habit of mine to check for them all every few minutes or so, just in case. Distracted, I didn’t hear anyone approaching until a confusingly familiar voice made me snap around, “Now where is it y’all good people calling home?” A man was approaching from behind a van parked a few abandoned cars away. A man I would recognise anywhere, and as his eyes caught mine, I could see recognition slide over Merle’s face as he realised who I was.

“Merle? You’re alive?” Glenn was as shocked as me, but seemed to find words far quicker. He was also quicker to hostility, hand twitching to his gun, but guns were the last thing on my mind.

I stepped towards Merle, a walk that transformed quickly into a jog and then a run as I flung myself into his arms, relief and happiness entirely overwhelming the rational side of my mind. He hugged me back immediately, muscular arms enveloping me, holding me tight and secure to his chest. We had been close when we had camped outside the city; he was the one who had brought me to the group. Probably only because he thought I was fuckable. But after a couple of weeks, what was once shameless flirting turned into a real friendship. And of course, I had always been too proud to admit that I might be interested in Merle as more than a friend. In the end though, none of that had mattered when he was handcuffed to the roof and seemingly gone for good. I had thought I would never see him again, and I had never been more overjoyed to be wrong.

We finally broke apart, but only by a few centimetres.

“Missed me?” He grinned the infuriating grin that I suddenly realised I didn’t find infuriating anymore, a reminder of how much I had missed everything about him.

His smiling eyes suddenly glazed over, expression dropping to a neutral mask as he stared over my shoulder. I turned and his arms dropped from my body. Six or so men, all armed with guns, all pointed at Glenn, whose gun had been confiscated, and at me. For a moment I thought they were strangers, but one glance back at Merle told me all I needed to know. He had drawn his gun too, but it wasn’t pointed at any of the strangers.

It was pointed directly at me.

For a moment, I froze in shock. Only for a moment. As soon as I had come fully to me senses, I raised my hands in surrender, backing away from Merle and in the direction of the strangers. Slow enough for it to look like scared confusion. As soon as I was within a metre of them, I nodded at Glenn, a warning before I darted towards the armed men, flicking a knife out of my sleeve and into my hand and in one smooth motion slitting the throat of the man closest to me. He fell to the ground, choking and spluttering. Glenn hit one of the men hard in the nose and then in the gut. I moved to the next, holding a knife to his throat, about to slice into his jugular.

“Hold on there honey, don’t make any stupid decisions,” Merle had a gun pressed into the back of Glenn’s head. Some part of me had thought that somehow, if we had managed to take on the strangers, Merle would have taken our side. Clearly I had been sorely mistaken. There was no way out of this. It was two to four, plus the man Glenn had attacked who was slowly standing back up.

I dropped the knife, and then the gun in my waistband. They didn’t need to know about the other knives I had hidden.

“Check she doesn’t have anything else hidden on her. Wouldn’t want a repeat of Bentley.” One of the strangers commanded. I assumed Bentley was the man whose throat I had slit. I felt a strange sense of pride that even though I had been overpowered, I hadn’t given in without a fight.

“Sure thing, Martinez,” Another man answered and stepped forward and roughly patted me down, fishing out my two remaining knives from my clothing. So much for keeping them hidden.

Glenn and I were shoved roughly into the back of a truck with three guns pointed at us as we were driven away, Merle and Martinez in the front. The drive gave me time to realise how stupid I had been, trusting Merle despite having no idea where he had been for all the time we had been apart. Of course he had found another group - how would he have survived cutting off his own hand otherwise? Glenn hadn’t been as stupid as me. He had known straight away that Merle wasn’t to be trusted. If only I had followed his instincts instead of mine, then this never would have happened. I managed to catch his eye, and mouthed ‘I’m so sorry,’ in his direction. He shrugged. Not an angry shrug, more of a ‘what did you expect?’ sort of motion. Somehow his acceptance of the situation made it worse.

When the truck finally stopped, we were roughly guided forward again, this time down some stairs and a few grimy corridors to two rooms. They pushed Glenn into one, me into another, and I heard him struggle and groan as the thuds of fists and feet hitting flesh filled the air.

“Stop! Stop hurting him, hurt me instead, please, please just leave him alone,” I yelled out, hoping that by some miracle I would be listened to, but no response. Just more of the horrible sounds coming from Glenn’s cell.

*

It had been at least a day- there was no daylight down here, but that was my best estimate. Martinez had come into my cell a few times, but I had not suffered half as much as Glenn had. Even so, I was painfully sore and covered in blood and bruises. I was sure more of me was bruised than not. But they seemed to have realised pretty quickly that neither of us would give up where we were staying, and at this point Martinez seemed more concerned with hurting us than with finding out where Glenn and I had come from. I hadn’t seen Merle since the drive to wherever we were. Part of me was glad,but some foolish part of me thought that maybe if he saw what was happening to me, he would help me. I knew that this was stupid, but I could help but hold on to that tiny, ridiculous hope.

A few hours passed and it had been a while since anyone had come into mine or Glenn’s cells when an unfamiliar man entered my cell, followed by Merle who was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Now here’s what’s about to happen. You’re going to tell me exactly where you and your friend have been staying and how many people you have. Understand?” While he looked unfamiliar, I recognised his voice from hearing him give orders to Martinez and the other men who had imprisoned Glenn and I. He was the Governor.

I scoffed, glaring up at him and Merle who was deliberately avoiding eye contact.

“You wanna play it like that? Be my guest.” The governor, still calm collected, turned to Merle.

“You know what to do,” he said, and Merle nodded, leaving towards Glenn’s cell. Obedient and quiet - two words I never would’ve dreamed could describe Merle.

I began to hear muffled groans of pain from Glenn, making me wince with every sound. I deserved this, not him. The governor smiled at me, watching my obvious distress.

“Leave him alone.” I demanded, only succeeding in making his smile wider.

“You know what you need to do, then I promise, we’ll leave him alone,” he moved forward, uncomfortably close, “Or maybe you need a little more persuasion? You know, it’s surprising how long a person can survive without their eyes. Or their feet. Or even their hands - isn’t that right Merle?” he called out the last part to the opposite cell.

“Sure is boss,” The first time I’d heard Merle speak since getting here.

“Now I’m sure you know what I’m getting at, but just in case, I’ll be clear. Merle is pretty handy with a hacksaw as I’m sure you know, and while we need you and your friend to be able to talk, we really don’t need you for anything else. So if him losing a hand, or both, or even worse, would get you talking then I’m sure we can all agree it would be worth that sacrifice.”

He wasn’t bluffing. He opened his mouth to yell the order to Merle, but I interrupted, “The prison. We’re at the prison. Please, please just leave him alone, you don’t need to do this. Please.” My resilience had broken. We could defend the prison. We could. But I couldn’t listen to Glenn getting tortured for any longer. I just couldn’t.

The governor chuckled. “Thank you, wasn’t so hard now was it.” He got close again, and in a sudden move he struck me across the face. Hard. For a moment, the world blurred with dark spots, before I lost my vision completely and fell into darkness.

*

I could feel myself being jostled in the arms of someone carrying me. They felt familiar, and I spent a few seconds trying to place who it was, still not fully conscious. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes and saw Merle’s determined expression. He glanced down at me, but before I could ask him what the fuck was going on, I fell into darkness again.

*

The next time I began to be aware of my surroundings I felt the thin, scratchy softness of a prison mattress. Slowly, I opened my eyes, this time managing to hold onto consciousness. When I sat up, I saw Merle sat at the end of my bed. Hunched over - sleeping, I assumed. Looking around, I recognised my old cell. Finally something I could use to my favour. I reached under my pillow and grasped the familiar handle of my final knife, which thankfully hadn’t been moved.

I pushed the knife to Merle’s throat. His eyes snapped open, and he raised the blade attached where his hand once was, before relaxing when he recognised me.

“What the fuck, Merle. What the fuck!”

“Calm down honey - saved your life, didn’t I?”

“Oh that’s what you call it? You took me prisoner and watched the shit get beaten outta me and somehow you’re the hero?” I pushed the knife harder against his neck and I could tell how much he was struggling against himself not to fight back. That made me even more angry. What made him think I couldn’t kill him right then and there if I wanted to?

“I didn’t have a choice. But I got ya outta there, that count for nothing?”

I continued to glare at him. He smirked at me, infuriating and insanely attractive all at the same time, before gripping my wrist and pushing me back against the wall, forcing me to drop my knife.

“I saved yer ass, didn’t have to, but I did. The governor, he saved my life, but I chose you for fuck’s sake. I missed ya, didn’t you miss me?”

Of course I did.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” This was probably the first time I’d heard him apologise for anything.

Of course I’d missed him. A lot. And some part of me knew that he was being sincere, that he had missed me and mourned me as much as I had him. I had missed him more than anyone else we had lost, and I had no idea what I’d do if I lost him again. But I’d always been terrible at putting those feelings into words. So when I finally kissed him, I hoped I got the sentiment across. It took him a moment to register what was happening, but when he did his good hand cupped my face, sliding to my back to pull me closer into him, while his other arm braced against the wall behind me. He had released my arms, so I let my hands wander his torso, something I had longed to do for far longer than I was willing to admit. His mouth was rough and hard against mine, his teeth scraping my lower lip, stubble scratching my face. It was a sensation I had imagined so many times, it was hard to believe it was real. That Merle, obnoxious, stubborn, perfect Merle was kissing me, and I was kissing him back with all I had.

#merle dixon #merle dixon x reader #x reader #imagine #oneshot #twd #walking dead #the governor #woodbury #glenn rhee #steven yeun #michael rooker

[stanning-reyna]

Valgrace One-shot

AN: In my ideal valgrace au, Jason and Leo’s first kiss is at their reunion after Leo returns from Ogygia, so I decided to write it! Enjoy!

The bright sunlight reflected off the ocean surface, nearly blinding Jason. He sat at the coastal restaurant with Piper, Hazel, Frank, and Nico. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward anxiously.

They had been told that Leo would be here, but so far there had been no sign of the son of Hephaestus. He had been gone for 2 weeks now. Jason didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t find him. 

Jason knew none of this would be happening if he had done something different. He could have gone after Leo when he fist went missing. He could have forced answers of out the wind god Notus. He was a soldier, after all. It was his job to know how to deal with situations like this.

But there was something about it- something about Leo- that made it hard for him to act efficiently. Jason had spent weeks trying to figure out what had happened to his keen decision making ability. He had never felt like this at Camp Jupiter.

Piper nudged Jason’s shoulder from her seat next to him. 

“He’ll show up. Just wait,” she said reassuringly. Jason knew there was some charmspeak slipped in there, but it hardly did anything to calm his nerves.

From across the table, Hazel and Nico shared a pastry covered in a pink syrup. Hazel looked relieved just to be off the rocking ship and on dry land. Frank was skimming through a newspaper. Very quickly, mind you, since he couldn’t read any Italian. 

Jason rocked back in his chair, scanning the bay in front of him. No sign of Leo. The anxiety in him just grew. He leaned forward and rested his head on his knee, trying to relax.

Just keep it together, he told himself. That was all he could do right now.

Piper nudged his side again. When he looked up, she was pointing down at the slope below the balcony they sat on. A small figure was slowly making its way up the rocks.

“Of course Leo couldn’t just walk in the front door,” Piper remarked with a laugh.

Sure enough, the figure had the curly hair and erratic walk of Leo.

Before Jason knew what he was doing, his legs pushed him over the balcony railing. He fell for only a moment before the wind came up underneath him, guiding him down the hill. The boy below looked up in shock.

Within seconds, Jason was at his side. Leo stared at him in silence. He stared back. Neither of them had any brilliant words to say in the situation.

So Jason did what felt best. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around Leo. Leo stiffened under the boy’s touch at first, but then relaxed into it. Jason could tell just how exhausted his friend was. His arms were weak around him. 

Leo suddenly pulled himself away from Jason. He stood there rather awkwardly, waiting for one of them to speak. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” Jason said, meeting Leo’s dark brown eyes with his own. They held something that hadn’t been there before.

“You know me. Hard to please, and even harder to kill,” Leo responded, attempting a smile. Jason could see right through it. Something significant had happened to him while he was gone.

And it was Jason’s fault. If he had fought better, his friend wouldn’t be experiencing this right now.

“What do you look so sad for?” Leo asked. Jason realized he had been staring at him.

“Nothing. I just really missed you.” Jason found himself blushing after the words came out. He hadn’t said that out load before.

“Oh,” Leo murmured, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad.”

“Leo, you don’t need to apologize for anything,” Jason clarified. “It was hell on the Argo II without you. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Leo’s eyes lit up with panic. 

“I need to finish a bunch of repairs, don’t I? Sorry I left y’all to deal with my mess. Did she hold up ok?” he asked frantically, beginning to climb up the climb up the hill at twice the speed he had been going before.

“There are more important things than that,” Jason said quietly from a few feet behind Leo. Like being with you, he wanted to add.

If Leo had heard him, he didn’t act like it, because he kept moving.

There was at least 50 feet of rocks between them and the balcony. It would be a treacherous climb back up, but Jason could help with that. 

He lounged forward, grabbing Leo around the waist, and propelled both of them up into the air.

Leo flailed for a moment, letting out a few unsavory words, until Jason secured his grip on him. The two boys were now pressed against each other, face to face. 

“Gee, ever heard of a heads up before?” Leo asked. Jason could feel his breath on his neck as he spoke.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t move them towards the balcony either. He wanted to treasure this moment of peace, alone with Leo, before they resumed their life of dodging monsters at every turn.

Leo didn’t seem to quite understand. “The rest are that way-“

“Can I kiss you?” Jason blurted out.

He immediately regretted it when he saw the look of pure confusion on Leo’s face. Jason felt his entire face and neck flush red. Of course Leo wouldn’t want to kiss him. There were so many other people out there more interesting and more welcoming than Jason- more human. Leo deserved one of those people.

Leo made a sound too quiet for Jason to hear. 

“Ok,” the son of Hephaestus repeated, just barely louder than the first time.

Jason felt his heart flutter within his chest. He eyes gazed over the boys face. Leo skin had a pink tint to it- probably a lot like Jason’s.

Leaning in slowly, Jason pressed his lips to Leo’s.

“Hell yeah! Finally!” yelled a voice from above. They broke apart to find Piper staring down at them from the balcony.

“Sorry!” she called out. 

Jason felt his face go even redder, if possible.

#valgrace #valgrace fanfic #jason grace #leo valdez #jason grace fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #heroes of olympus #hoo fanfic #hoo fanfiction #house of hades #heroes of olympus fanfic #hoo fandom #hoo series #hoo

[babbushka]

Biting Dust - Ch. 5

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again…

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

6k; Warnings: Attempted assault, attempted murder

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Red clouds of earth kick up behind your horse’s hooves as they gallop far past the town line, hootin’ and hollerin’ all the while. The wind whips your hair around, your bonnet flung right off your head, held onto your person only by the wide ribbon that’s kept it tied ‘round your throat. Adrenaline pumps through your body, makes your vision spotty, makes your heart beat fast fast fast, ridin’ like lightning away from Ragrock.

Kylo’s right beside you, makin’ just as much damn noise as you, his crooked teeth gleamin’ gold in the blazin’ Arizona sun. You ain’t never see him grin this big, as he shouts and jeers too, challengin’ the canyons and the desert, darin’ them to take this moment away from the both of you.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” You laugh, voice nearly gettin’ lost in the wind, cheeks hurtin’ from the way you’re smilin’ so much, “Goddamn you’re so -- so -- stupid!”

Kylo laughs at that too, a deep rumblin’ sound that feels so much like thunder that you’re sure it’s shakin’ the earth. Or maybe that’s Sam and Agnes, the way they’re throwin’ their heads back and whinnying and stampin’ their hooves into the caked dirt below. Either way, it’s a good sound, one of them sounds that makes you ache in your bones; you can’t remember the last time you heard someone else laugh so genuinely.

“Yeah?” He finally decides to slow Sam to a halt, and you do the same, tuggin’ on Aggie’s reigns to get her to calm just a little bit, the horses powerful legs comin’ to a gentle trot, both you and Kylo gulpin’ down air.

“Yeah. Why the hell did you bring us through there knowin’ there was bad blood?” You reach into the saddle bag and pull out a canteen, measurin’ a careful sip or two of the fresh river water, before decidin’ to pass the jug over to Kylo himself.

Gratefully, he takes the same size sip as you, and you think that’s mighty chivalrous of him once again, on account of he’s a much bigger person than you, and should clearly need more water. Still, you don’t protest when he hands the canteen back to you, the lid screwed on nice and tight to avoid spillin’.

“It was the only place I could think of that’s close enough.” He shrugs, and you frown ever so slightly at that, knowin’ that really, as long as you stay close to the Colorado River, you’ll have just about anything you need.

Well, almost, anyway.

“Close enough for what?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, especially when he starts rummagin’ around in his own saddle-bag for somethin’. You lean over, tryin’ to be nosy and get a peek inside, but he only clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and you duck your head, embarrassed at bein’ caught.

“For this,” Kylo doesn’t make you wait though, pullin’ out a couple boxes of bullets, but much more importantly, “And these.”

When Kylo pulls out the burlap sack filled with coins, your eyes widen. Right there in his fist has to be over five hundred dollars in gold and silver, more money than you’ve ever seen in one place save for the banks you burn. It makes your mouth go dry, and you wonder how he got a hold of it all, if he took it from the cash register by force, or if he stole it discreetly.

“Holy shit, no wonder you were takin’ so damn long.” You urge Aggie a little closer to get a better look, darin’ to stick your hand in the bag and scoop up a handful of the coins. They were heavy, heavy and real.

“I figured you wouldn’t be opposed.” Kylo speaks quietly as your hands let the coins fall between your fingers, clinking together back in the sack. He gives you the sack then, lets the weight of it rest in your hands, clearin’ his voice, “We’ll need it for Ruby City.”

Without a thought, you push it back into his hand. He was the one who had stolen it, it belonged to him. Yes you were out of money, your own coin purse completely empty, but...but you had more pride than that, to accept someone else’s hard earned coin. Even if he had earned it wrongly, it was still his.

Besides, you reckon as you shake your head when he tries to give it back once again, Kylo was right -- it’s less suspicious to travel with a man, and if you’re traveling together, he better be the one to handle the money.

Kylo seems to read your thoughts, and he just nods, before taking a couple coins out and handing them to you, fifty bucks weighin’ on your palm.

“Just take the fuckin’ money.” He says with a small smile. “I won’t hear any ‘no’, it’s yours too, for helpin’ me by distractin’ the townfolk.”

You sigh, and reluctantly put the coins in your own small purse. For the first time in a while, the fabric is bulged out and heavy. Kylo puts the burlap sack back in his saddle-bag, and you resolve to ignore its existence until you need him to pay for a room at an inn somewhere.

“Should’ve warned me that you knew the damn bartender.” You scold him then, a little disgruntled that he had kept that information from you. If you were going to be a distraction, you would’ve liked to know exactly who it was you’re distractin’. “Should’ve told me y’all hated each other.”

You don’t tell Kylo that you were flirtin’ with that Armitage, certain that he wouldn’t like it. He sure as hell didn’t like it when Amos was gettin’ a little too friendly with you, anyway, and he was just a stranger. To your surprise though, Kylo scoffs out a laugh, and fishes out his old cigarette from the inside of his boot, lightin’ it with a match and puffin’ smoke through his nose.

“Hate?” He’s got humor in his voice as he urges Sam forward, needin’ to get back towards the water’s edge before the sun sank too low in the sky, “Nah, Hux and I go way back. He’s a good friend.”

You level him a dirty glare at that, if only he had told you he coulda’ saved you a world of panic! You think about the way that Armitage shot out his own windows, the way that Kylo managed to murder Armitage’s brother without any guns of his own, and all the damn fallout that came from it.

“Didn’t seem to be actin’ like a good friend when he was aimin’ his shotgun at your face.” You point out, thinkin’ to yourself, men are so goddamn strange.

Kylo laughs again, and you find yourself growin’ dangerously used to the sound, so you just sigh and shake your head. He smokes and smokes, both of your horses leadin’ you closer to the water, havin’ galloped away from it ever so slightly.

“He likes when I come rollin’ through, trust me. He always complains about how quiet his lil’ town of Ragrock gets, likes to give the folks somethin’ to gossip about every now and again.” Kylo explains, patton’ Sam’s neck and flashin’ you a gold-tipped smile.

“So he really wasn’t going to kill us then?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh no he probably would’ve if I let him.” Kylo answers quickly, “‘Specially after what I did to Brian. But he’ll be fine with it in a couple weeks once folks tell him I wasn’t the one that started nothin’.”

You stare at him for a little while, and he can feel the weight of your gaze on him, but he only gives you a crooked smile and a wink. You weren’t so sure what that wink meant, but if you had to guess, it could really only mean trouble.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” You lick across your teeth to prevent yourself from smilin’ and givin’ him the satisfaction of knowing that he entertains you. The grin he gives you tells you he knows it anyway.

“Nothin’ that you can’t handle though, I reckon.” Counterin’ with a slight smile, Kylo ducks his head and blushes, and that alone is enough to make you tap your heels against Aggie’s hide, to get her to go gallopin’ down the canyons again.

-----------------------

Some hours later, when the world around you starts to cool off from the settin’ of the sun, you and Kylo set up camp near the river. He had gone ahead and scouted the spot out, made sure there weren’t any folks who had already laid claim to that particular stretch of the bend, no one that could go cousin’ any trouble.

There was more than enough money now, to buy new stocks of food whenever y’all got to the next stop along the route, but that didn’t mean that you were about to let Kylo blow through the supply. So instead, you ask he hunt you down another rabbit for dinner, which he does in less than a half hour, impressin’ you once again.

It’s quiet, out there by the river. The sky has faded to a gentle purple, the silvery moon high in the sky. You’ve got a fire made, nothin’ too big or roarin’, just tall enough to heat up the cast-iron pot that you’ve got hangin’ over it by an iron stake. That rabbit is stewin’ in the pot, along with some water, beans, cut up carrots and a little bit of rice. You stir the pot, listenin’ to the sound of the river as it trickles past.

The sweet sound of a harmonica sounds then, and your gaze snaps up to see Kylo with the instrument against his lips. His eyes are closed, and he’s breathin’ nice and even, the high tune of a melody makin’ your throat choke up. It was a tune you knew all too well, once upon a time, a long time ago.

You stir the stew, chewin’ on the side of your cheek, until somethin’ in you compels you to sing. Your voice is a little rusty, but it doesn’t deter Kylo one bit, in fact, when he catches wind of you singin’ along to his tune, he plays a little louder, a little clearer, switchin’ to the harmony as you take over the melody to the sad cowboy song that you once used to teach yourself,

"O bury me not on the lone prairie."

These words came low and mournfully

From the pallid lips of the youth who lay

On his dying bed at the close of day.

He had wasted and pined 'til o'er his brow

Death's shades were slowly gathering now

He thought of home and loved ones nigh,

As the cowboys gathered to see him die.

"O bury me not on the lone prairie

Where coyotes howl and the wind blows free

In a narrow grave just six by three—

O bury me not on the lone prairie"

"It matters not, I've been told,

Where the body lies when the heart grows cold

Yet grant, o grant, this wish to me

O bury me not on the lone prairie."

Kylo sets down his harmonica then, and you blink away a light mistiness in your eye. It ain’t good to dwell on the past, you know, but sometimes, times like these, you can’t help but think ‘bout it. Kylo’s blinkin’ away somethin’ too, you notice, so as you stir the stew and determine the rabbit and vegetable and rice are all as cooked as they need to be, you ladle a big bowl for you and for this man who has become the closest thing to a companion you’ve ever had in your life, and you take it over to him.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, not for a while. You simply sit down next to him, as close to him as you’ve gotten since that time in the river, and hand him the bowl and spoon. He accepts it gratefully, his own gaze cast into the fire, and not for the first time, you wonder what’s goin’ on in his head.

After a couple bites of the stew, you rest your head on his shoulder. It’s a tentative motion, a hesitant one. Kylo holds his breath, you can feel it in the way he tenses ever so slightly, but he doesn’t tell you to move, and that’s as good of an invitation to stay as any, you reckon.

“You can’t go lookin’ at me like that, by the by.” Breaking the silence, you slurp down a spoonful of stew yourself, lookin’ into the comforting vision of the flames which flicker and flare gently in front of you.

“Hm?”

“If we’re meant to be cousins,” You explain, voice soft and kind, knowin’ that you’ve been too hard on him these past couple days. “You can’t be givin’ me those eyes of yours. Folks might see through the ruse.”

Kylo surprises you by shruggin’ with his other shoulder, his cheeks crinklin’ into a smile. His dimples crease, and he chews on his lip a little, keepin’ his eyes down as he blushes.

“Folks marry their cousins all the time, it wouldn’t be so strange.” Kylo nearly whispers, almost like he’s afraid to speak the words, rushes quickly to try and change the subject as soon as he’s said it, “Hell, my mother almost married her own damn brother on accident -- but that’s a long and complicated story.”

“Oh so we’re married now.” You smile, feelin’ the heat rise to your own cheeks. It’s less of a question and more of a statement, the way you say it, and you find that against your own better judgement, you like the way it sounds. You like the idea of it, and that makes butterflies spark up in your stomach, a feelin’ you ain’t so used to.

“We could be.” Kylo doesn’t dare look at you, idly stirring his bowl, “We could pretend, anyway.”

You think for a second about what that might be like -- but then you shake your head a little and sigh, “I made a promise I’d never be a meek housewife.”

“Ain’t no one here callin’ you meek.” Kylo reassures you, and now it’s your turn to duck your head, to rest it against his shoulder a little more. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it out there in the quiet of night.

“Be my cousin, for just a little while longer.” You whisper, a silent plea to just give you some more time, “Until we make it to Ruby City.”

“I can’t get a good read on you.” Kylo hums, and you’re relieved to hear that he’s not got an angry or disappointed edge to his tone.

He really does respect you, you realize all of a sudden. Maybe it’s foolish to come to that conclusion so soon, so quickly after you’ve met him, but you can’t help but come to it nonetheless. He’s done nothin’ but respect you this whole time, and you don’t know what to do about that. It’s never happened before.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, a hint of a smile on your lips.

“It means that you’re the most mysterious damn woman I’ve ever met.” He replies easily, a smile on his own.

“I have to be.” Shrugging, you eat another bite of the stew, wishin’ you had some spices to throw in it. You hope Kylo doesn’t think it’s too bland -- before growin’ bashful again, at the thought that you want him to enjoy your cookin’.

“Why’s that?”

“Because the more people that know about me, the less safe I am.”

“I told you -- ”

“I know, you ain’t gonna hurt me, I know.” You interrupt him, before sighing, wondering if you were really going to do this, if you were really going to tell him. “That’s not what I meant.”

Kylo senses a shift in the air, a change in the atmosphere, and his teasing playful smile melts into something a little more somber, more serious. He watches you, and waits for what you have to say, and you decide that what the hell -- if you couldn’t tell Kylo, you couldn’t tell anyone at all.

“I didn’t always used to be an outlaw, you know.” Setting down your bowl of stew, you fidget with the hem of your blue dress’ skirt, and look into the fire, your memory transporting you to a place and time that felt like a million years ago. “There was a time, a long time ago, that I was a school teacher, in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere Utah...”

-----------------------

You were young, when you started teachin’ at the school. It had always been your favorite place when you were growin’ up, and when the teacher herself got married and moved away, you jumped at the vacancy at once. This was the only way a young woman like yourself could earn a living with her clothes on, you knew that, and though you were barely older than the students that came to your classes, you took your job seriously.

It had been a bright sunny morning in Spring the day you turned sixteen, when the bells tolled for all the school children to come rushing to your door. Standing outside the single room schoolhouse, you had a cheerful smile on your face as you welcomed the students that you had come to love and care for, as they bounded up the few steps and into the wooden building. Ranging in age from as young as five, to as old as twelve, two dozen students took to their seats, fresh faced and recently washed, hair combed for their lessons.

“Good mornin’ class!” You walk to the front of the room once the bell finishes tolling, picking up a piece of chalk and writing out the first line to a popular sea shanty turned folk song, your delicate cursive spelling, ‘O Bury Me Not On The Lone Prairie.’

“Good morning Miss (L/N)!” The class responds in happy unison. One of your students, a young girl named Wendy quickly gets out of her seat to place an apple on your desk before hurrying back.

You smile at her, at all of them, having grown so fond of this mis-matched group of kids that have been placed in your care for the weekdays.

“I trust y’all had a good weekend?” You ask them, met with a chorus of overlapping affirmations, and you chuckle at their response to immediately wantin’ to tell you all about everything they did on their days off. “Good, I’m glad. Now if you would buddy up and please take out your textbook, we’ll pick up where we left off on Friday.”

The McGuffey reader was your go-to book to teach the children with, it had everything you needed -- reading, writing, and arithmetic that was easy enough to understand by even the littlest of your students. It was broken down into repetition, phonetics, and even had lines to trace the letters and numbers, but more than that, it was the book you yourself had learned to read by, so you were familiar enough with it.

“Who would like to be the first to read what I’ve got written up on the board?” You ask, once they’ve all opened their books to the appropriate page, a handful of eager students at once clamoring to volunteer.

And so, like any other day, the morning turned to afternoon, and the afternoon turned to evening. When the bells rang to dismiss the class, the children groaned, knowing that meant they had to go home where their family would likely put them to work in the field or in the kitchen for an hour before supper.

“Thank you for another wonderful day children, y’all be good for your parents now, you hear?” You try to encourage them to cheer up, even if it did warm your heart that they liked learning from you so much. “Oh, Rickie? Could you come here for a minute? You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

Sitting at your desk for a moment, you saw the earring that you had stashed in your drawer from the evening prior, and you fish it out as the ten year old skips over to you, his mousy brown hair flopping around as he does. You smile, thinkin’ that he might do to ask for a trim when he gets home.

“Yes ma’am?” Rickie stands before the desk, and you hand him the earring, his eyes going wide as he recognizes it.

“Could you do me a big favor and deliver this to your Mama? She must’ve dropped it here last night and I’m sure she’s goin’ crazy lookin’ for it.” You smile, and he nods happily.

“She sure is! Earned myself a smack upside the head I did, when she thought I snatched it from her dresser!” Rickie laughs, clearly glad to have been vindicated.

“Well I’m sure she’ll be sorry when you bring it back to her, let her know I was the one who had it, not you.” You smile back warmly at him, but he’s already runnin’ out of the schoolhouse, callin’ another thanks and a goodbye behind him as he goes.

Only a moment or two before the last of your students are gone, is there a knock on the door.

He doesn’t wait for an answer before coming in anyway, and you look up with a frown to see who would be so rude as to invite themselves, until you recognize the sheriff and put a forced smile upon your face.

“Hello sheriff, how are you this fine evenin’?” You present yourself as politely as possible, as the man’s spurs clink while those heavy boots of his walk across your floors, trackin’ mud in from the outside with little care.

You didn’t like him, the sheriff. Didn’t like the way you caught him starin’ at you sometimes, didn’t like the way you caught him starin’ at the girls in your class. He was one of the oldest fellas in town, maybe three times your age. He’s starin’ at you now, eyein’ you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m doin’ well honey, thank you.” The sheriff chews on some tobacco, a habit you can’t stand, before pointin’ out the door behind him and askin’ with a stern voice, “That boy wasn’t givin’ you any trouble, was he?”

“Rickie? No of course not, he’s a good kid.” You’re quick to reply, not wantin’ to cause any trouble for the young farmboy. You and the sheriff look at each other for a moment or two, before you grow more and more uncomfortable, busyin’ your hands with the worksheets that’ve been left on your desk to grade. You clear your throat, “Is -- has somethin’ happened?”

“Naw, I just wanted to come by and see ya before your night class starts.” The sheriff’s spurs clink clink clink over to the desk where he sits himself down, right on the wooden table-top.

“Well, here I am. Can I offer you somethin’ to drink? Coffee?” You try your best to be polite, hoping that one of your night students -- adults from the town who never got to go to school when they were young -- might show up and come to your rescue.

“Not tonight, thank you.” He replies, making you sigh out with relief against your better judgement. He doesn’t notice, instead you can feel his gaze on your chest, “But, if you’re free this friday evenin’, I’d love to take you up on that offer.”

“Oh...I see.” Bile rising up in the back of your throat, you shake your head and try to reject him as politely as possible, voice clipped yet firm as you move from around the desk to the chalk-board where you erase the children’s lesson and prepare for the adult’s. “Sheriff, I’m sorry but, I’m not quite interested in seein’ anyone at present.”

“And why’s that?” He doesn’t leave you alone, and you begin to panic with the way he’s steppin’ closer to you, knowin’ that if he traps you against the board, there won’t be a clear path to escape.

“Well it ain’t allowed for a woman to be datin’ while she’s a schoolteacher.” You explain, your voice starting to wobble.

Something about that makes him chuckle, somethin’ sinister, his blackened teeth from all that damn tobacco too close to your face when he grins.

“Must be awfully lonely,” Sheriff runs his hand up your arm, “Missin’ the comfort of a man at night.”

“It’s not.” Your body shudders in revolt, and you try to side step him, blood pounding in your ears, eyes wide in distress as you feel sweat bead up and trickle down the back of your thigh, “I appreciate your concern but -- ”

“Let me just get one kiss then.” He doesn’t let you go that easily, grabbing your arm harshly and dragging you over to one of the desks where he pushes you with a rough shove. His hand grips your cheek too hard, forcing your mouth to pucker as you fight him.

“Sheriff, I said no -- please get away from me -- I don’t -- don’t touch me!!” You knee him hard straight in the groin, your panicked scream alerting the adults who had thankfully, miraculously, decided to show up for evening class early.

“Miss (L/N)!” A couple of cattle ranchers kick the door open and run to your side, tugging you away from the sheriff who laughs loudly. You smell the stench of alcohol on him, realizing he’s drunk as all hell, and cling to the strong rancher, tears threatening to spill over your eyes.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch our teacher again!” One of the ranchers, a nice man named Francisco, holds you tightly, protectively. You always liked Francisco, he treated you like a daughter he never got to have. The other, Jedidiah, stands firmly next to you, so ready to lunge at the sheriff that you can’t help but feel immense gratitude towards them.

“Everythin’s just fine son, run along now.” The sheriff chuckles, but neither Francisco nor Jedidiah move a muscle.

“Sheriff I think you need to leave.” Mustering up as much of your courage as possible, you speak clearly, willing your voice not to shake as the safety of Francisco’s arms give you strength, “Class begins soon, I’m sorry.”

The ranchers stare the sheriff down, and he stares back, before noddin’ with a sick understandin’ that you reckon means this won’t be the last you see of him. Spittin’ his tobacco onto the floor, that same floor he sullied with the mud under his boots after the children had so lovingly cleaned it with you, the sheriff turned on his heel and left, pausin’ at the doorway for a moment to send you a dark, threatenin’ chuckle, “You will be.”

“Are you alright Miss (L/N)? Did he hurt you?” Jedidiah takes his cap off and kneels in front of you, tryin’ to appear as non-threatenin’ as possible. Francisco releases his hold on you, and checks you for any marks or signs of stress, but you just let out a shudderin’ breath and shake your head. You’re not sure which question that’s meant to answer, but they don’t press you.

“Who do we call when the sheriff’s the one acting out?” Francisco wonders aloud, and you feel like there’s lead in your belly, because he’s right.

The only way you’d likely be able to avoid the sheriff and his wrath would be to leave town altogether, and well, you couldn’t do that. Who would keep after the students then?

There wasn’t any trouble during the lesson that evening, much to your satisfaction. The later it got in the night, the more you felt relieved, surely if the sheriff was going to cause trouble, he would’ve done so by now. Your students can tell that there’s something off about you though, a few of them approachin’ you after the class was done, wonderin’ if there was anythin’ they could do.

In hindsight, you wonder how different your life would’ve been, had you asked to stay with one of them for the evening, or had you asked one of them to stay with you.

The chokin’ woke you up, before anythin’ else. Smoke, thick black plumes of it pouring out of the windows, the doors. Smoke in your lungs that had your body joltin’ up and out of the little bed up in the attic where you lived above the schoolhouse, had you rollin’ onto the floor in a panic.

“No!” You shout, as the heat of red orange yellow flames begins to lick up the walls, eatin’ away at the wood structure of the building, the whole thing two steps from bein’ a blazin’ bonfire out in the field, “Oh god, oh god no!”

Frantic, you run, mind going blank, trying to focus on grabbin’ the important things, only the important things; a photo of your family, the money out of the dresser, a copy of your favorite book. That was it, all you had that you could think to grab, before trying for the door.

The handle burns, and you scream, shaking the pain away from the blisteringly hot doorknob. You’re fucked, oh you’re so fucked, you think as you back up enough to barrel your way through the door, the wood shattering and splintering. The fire reached all the way up to the attic, there was nowhere you could escape. You could jump out the window, but you’d break your neck landin’ on the hard ground. Outside, someone yells, revelin’ in the way that you scream.

“If I can’t have you, ain’t nobody gets to have you, hear that? You hear that bitch?” The sheriff cackles tauntingly, and the fear of death drips icy cold down your back, compels you to run as fast as you can down the wooden rickety stairs, into the blaze.

If you can just get out, if only you can get out of this building, maybe you’ll survive, maybe you --“No!”

One of the stairs has shattered beneath your feet, your foot stomping straight through it, trapped. You cough and hack up the smoke, it’s stinging your eyes, it’s in your lungs, soot in your mouth, you can’t see, oh god it’s so hot, the flames are surrounding you, and your foot is stuck through the stairs.

“Please, please come on you’re strong enough for this, you have to be strong enough for this, come on.” You sob, willing yourself, yanking your foot out in harsh movements as the laughter screeches around you in a drunken stupor.

Eventually, in all your efforts, the structure of the stairs give away entirely, and you try to grab onto something as the floor falls beneath your feet, sending you crashing down into the classroom below. The fire’s taken everything here; the wallpaper, the tables and chairs, even the shiny apple that Wendy sat on your desk, all reduced to ash, cracking and spitting in the flames.

You’ve hit your head from the fall, you can’t move. Somethin’s pinned your legs, you can’t feel nothin’. At least there ain’t any smoke down here, all of it risin’ up up up through the building. The smoke pushes the bells, make them toll. You wonder if they’re callin’ the Reaper, tears slippin’ down your cheeks.

“All the books, oh the poor children.” You whisper, thinkin’ of them all, watchin’ as the textbooks singe to nothingness, knowin’ that soon your body will follow, “Who’s going to teach the children?”

-----------------------

Kylo’s arm is around you, you realize, out there in the present. He’s stock-still, face gone pale, somber. He’s crying, you realize, jaw clenched tight, the muscle in his cheek flexing from the force of it. You’re crying too, wetness on your face. You watch as a tear plips into the rabbit stew, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s one of yours, or Kylo’s.

“The rest of the town came to my rescue, once the flames got so bright you could see ‘em from across the fields. They thought I was dead, when they found me.” You clear your throat, rememberin’ the details of the story that you had only found out after the fact, “I was covered in soot, breathed too much of it in, I wasn’t wakin’ up. I later found out that the sheriff didn’t let them give me a funeral, just told them to stick me in a coffin and gave me a shallow grave.”

Kylo remains quiet, but the arm around you tightens. You’re reminded of Francisco then, how he had protected you. You wonder where he is, what he’s doing. If he ever got to have a daughter.

“I was glad for that part at least, it wasn’t too hard to dig my way back out when I woke up. I must’ve only been there for a couple hours, the dirt wasn’t packed tight or nothin’, thankfully.” You sigh, not knowing when to stop, now knowin’ how to do any of this, how to be vulnerable like this. You ain’t had to be vulnerable in a long, long time.

“Must’ve been out of my mind, I had never thought about killin’ anyone before, you know. I was more angry about the loss of the school than I was for my own life, if you can believe. I hunted him down, the sheriff. He thought I was a ghost, and he hid from me. I found him in the end, doused him in kerosene and lit the sonofabitch on fire right on his front porch.”

You lean your head on Kylo’s shoulder, and ever so gently, he rests his cheek against you back.

“I was sixteen then, and “I’ve been burnin’ shit down to the ground ever since.” You whisper, voice almost lost by the trickle of the river as it flows down to Colorado.

“I’m sorry.” Kylo says, snuffling into your hair a little bit, holdin’ you close, a silent promise.

“It ain’t your fault.” You reply, fightin’ that sour feelin’ in the back of your throat, nudging your face a little closer into his neck.

“If I had been there, I would’ve helped you.” He says, even though you both know that there ain’t no changin’ the past.

“You’re here now.” You pull back enough to look at him, really look at him right in the eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” He nods.

You wonder, sometimes how life might’ve been different, but after all is said and done, this is the life you’ve got.

Kylo lies down then, one arm extended out from his body, an offer.

You don’t think twice about it, when you lay down next to him, your head usin’ that arm as a pillow. It wraps around your shoulder, tuggin’ you to Kylo’s chest, and for the first time in a long time, when you sleep, you don’t dream.

"I've always wished to be laid when I died

In a little churchyard on the green hillside

By my father's grave, there let me be,

O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"I wish to lie where a mother's prayer

And a sister's tear will mingle there.

Where friends can come and weep o'er me.

O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"For there's another whose tears will shed.

For the one who lies in a prairie bed.

It breaks me heart to think of her now,

She has curled these locks, she has kissed this brow."

"O bury me not..." And his voice failed there.

But they took no heed to his dying prayer.

In a narrow grave, just six by three

They buried him there on the lone prairie.

And the cowboys now as they roam the plain,

For they marked the spot where his bones were lain,

Fling a handful o' roses o'er his grave

With a prayer to God his soul to save.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Taggin' some Kylo lovin' friends!

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip @goddessofsprings @mrs-gucci @baubub @bucky-j-barnes @mindyoshiii @beachwoodmonet @darkhairedmenrule @eagerforhoney @nekonaomitard @einmal-im-traum @justlenastuff @0nihiime

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren fanfiction #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing #biting dust #historical au #western au #outlaw!kylo ren #outlaw!reader

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 58

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 2,958

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

*HIATUS WARNING* 

I want to give y’all a heads up that there will be one more chapter update next Friday (June 25th), but after that I will be taking a mini hiatus during the month of July. I’m planning to join Camp Nano, and so rather than spending time each week editing and posting, I want to focus as much energy as I can on binge-writing some new chapters and seeing if I can outline a potential path towards an ending for this fic. I’m aiming to start posting weekly again at the end of July, if things go according to plan. 

I feel bad doing this, but I’m also proud as hell of myself for giving y’all 9 weeks of consistent updates. I also think taking a month break from updates to map out the direction I want ID to end up in and trying to write as much of it as I can during Camp Nano, so that y’all can then continue to get weekly updates (hopefully until it’s over), is a fair trade-off. So please don’t hate me *sweats* 

That being said, this chapter sets up what will be a doozy of a next chapter, so buckle up.

We Need to Talk

When arriving back down on the third floor, you decided to make a quick pit stop at your room to gather a change of clothes and soap before heading to the shower room to refresh. Sure, you could’ve used Negan’s shower, which would’ve been much more luxurious, but you didn’t want to impede his morning anymore than you already had. Sometimes you forgot how much he had on his plate, but the almost constant interruptions and calls for him to attend meetings and supply runs were reminders that, unlike you, he couldn’t do whatever he wanted for the first half of the day. 

Also, if you were being extra honest, your emotions were in a bit of turmoil from the rollercoaster ride of events last night and this morning. He had gone cold on you last night, shutting down and not wanting to discuss the supply run or even really be touched. And while he still had felt emotionally a bit distant this morning, the physical distance had definitely been lifted. However, you still weren’t sure how to react to him brushing off your offer to talk things out, and needed some time away from him today to gather your thoughts.

Showered and refreshed, you folded Negan’s green shirt and tucked it into your bin of clothes. Much as you wanted to wear it all day, you also didn’t want to get any stains on it while working. Leaving your room, you took a different route through the compound, rounding a few corners and entering a section of the third floor hallway on the opposite side of the building, where Ben’s room was located. You had told him yesterday in the kitchens that you’d speak with him today, and what better time than now. Breakfast was over, and there was still a few hours before dinner prep, so hopefully he’d be free and expecting you.

When he opened his door and saw you standing there, his face lit up. Since his roommate was also in the room, you both decided to go outside and find a spot where there were no listening ears. The sun was bright and intense, and Ben immediately wandered around back of the Sanctuary, towards the gardens. Walking among the rows of plants, you watched as he stopped here and there to check out some of the tomato plants and fresh herbs, before diving into conversation. Since you didn’t want to hog the time with Negan worries, you instead started with a more lighthearted topic. 

Checking for the dozenth time to make sure no one was within hearing distance, you said, “Soooo, you and Simon? I want details. Spill.”

Ben’s cheeks flushed, perhaps partially from the hot sun but most likely because of the mention of the tall, cheerful Savior who had been taking up so much of his free time. You had already noticed Simon stopping by the kitchen “to check in” more than needed when Negan was gone, but you listened intently as Ben told you about the afternoon he had randomly joined in on making the chocolate cake for you and Negan’s date. You unsuccessfully tried to stifle a giggle when Ben said how he had almost dropped the cake ingredients about a dozen times out of nervousness. The oblivious fool had still been convinced Simon had no interest at that point, and thought he just liked messing around with Ben’s head and seeing him act out of sorts. Your chuckling turned to a shocked gasp when he recounted how Simon had then made his intentions very obvious by pressing the shorter man into the kitchen counter and tracing Ben’s lips with leftover chocolate icing before kissing him. Ben didn’t give many more details, but you had a feeling that more than just the oven had heated up after that.

“Damn, your first kiss involved chocolate?! I gotta give it to him, the man’s got moves,” you marveled. If that was how he treated a first kiss, then you almost couldn’t contain your excitement for Ben with whatever Simon came up with involving the fudge brownie advice you had provided. 

“Does he have his own room you can go to, like Negan does?” you asked, unsure what the setup for the Saviors was. 

“No,” Ben said with a grumble. “He has a roommate, like I do, but sometimes he’s out on night shift watching the perimeter fences. I’ve been able to go up and see him on those evenings, but otherwise he just uh...comes to see me in the kitchen after dinner is over.” 

Ben’s blush grew deeper at that confession, and you wished there was a way for him and Simon to have more private time. Perhaps you could ask Negan about it, see if Simon could be promoted to a single room. You tucked the idea away for later, and asked another pivotal question.

“Do you want to continue sneaking around with him, or do the two of you want to be more open about things?” 

Ben shrugged and stared at the tomato plants, but you could tell the gears in his brain were turning, the same way yours did when considering the same question in relation to Negan. 

“We’ve discussed it a little, and while part of me is hesitant to shout how I’m feeling from the rooftops, if things continue being this great with him then I...I wouldn’t want to keep hiding it.” He looked up at you then. “I just wouldn’t want anyone to treat me differently, if they knew. Not that I expect everyone to be happy about it, but...I don’t want to hide who I am, even if an apocalypse hasn’t suddenly made everyone accepting of seeing a relationship like ours.”

You felt a twinge of hurt for Ben, as well as anger that he had an extra social obstacle to loving whoever he wanted. An obstacle that made zero sense and spoke to what fucked up societal norms humans had created. 

Making sure to hold his eye contact, you said firmly, “If anyone gives you crap about it, anyone at all, they’ll have me, Simon, and Negan to deal with.” When he gave a skeptical quirk of his brow, you added, “Perks of being best friends with the boss lady, remember?” 

He finally smiled at the reference to what he had said in the kitchen the other day, about having immunity from Negan’s wrath due to his being close to you. Some of the tension left him, and he silently pondered for a bit, before the conversation shifted in an unsurprising direction.

“So,” he said, tone becoming more serious. “Your turn. How are things with you and the boss man?”

Letting out a sigh, you caught Ben up on the events of the last few days, including him shutting down about what happened on the supply run and your overwhelming need to know where things were going. You left out the conversation with Maria for now, wanting to focus on your direct interactions with Negan first. Ben had been drawing patterns with his shoe in the dirt while listening intently, and let out a low whistle when you finished. 

After a few moments of silence, as if he was trying to decide which information to attack first, he asked, “So you said about him pulling away and shutting down, but what about you? Have you been open all the time with him, or shutting down as well?”

Damnit, you thought. Of course he’d hit the nail right on the head and call you out. One look at your face and he knew the answer, his lips curling into a humorless, lopsided grin. 

“You gotta talk it out with him, asap.”

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, kicking at a rock. You then told him about Amber’s mini meltdown, and how the wives were aware of you being the reason he had stopped sleeping with them.

“Um, okay, yea. You really need to have a talk with him. Like an epic, “clear your schedule for the evening because this is gonna take a while” level of talk.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snarked, feeling defensive even though he was telling you exactly what you already knew. 

“Hey, if I can get Simon to sit still and focus long enough to talk about our expectations of the other and what we’re looking for, then so can you.” At your look of surprise, he nodded. “Yep, we did that the other night. We both wanted to make sure the other wasn’t just in it for a fun but unemotional time, which thank god we aren’t. Despite acting like nothing ever bothers him, he’s a surprisingly sensitive and romantic kinda guy.” 

You grinned happily at that. Thank goodness you could cross “Richardo-stab Simon if he ends up being a shallow fuck boy” off the list of things to stress over. 

“You make a conversation like that sound so easy. What’s the secret?”

Giving a light shrug, as if the answer should be obvious, he said, “Honestly, the secret is that once you realize the other person likes you enough to wanna sit down and talk through any concerns or hesitancy, it is easy. You’ve gotta stop overanalyzing it.” He gave a sarcastic look and added, “Something I know you struggle with. But if Negan cares about you as much as it sounds like he does, then he’d want to talk to you as his equal and put your worries to rest, discuss both of your expectations and compromise where needed. If he’s not willing to do those things then...well...I hate to say it, but he’s not worth your time, and he doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you at his side.” 

Your chest warmed at that last compliment, at the same time that your stomach dropped a bit at the thought of Negan not doing those things and turning you away. It sounded so obvious and simple when Ben laid it out like that, and in all honesty, you were finally starting to believe that Negan did indeed care about you enough to want to talk out any issues. 

However, there was still that part of you that was drowning in self-doubt, that was terrified he’d shut down and refuse to discuss any emotion-based topics, which would cause you to shut down as well. And you agreed with Ben when he said you deserved better if that’s how Negan responded…but it wasn’t just the fear of knowing for certain if Negan was worthy of you. It was also the fear of whether or not Negan thought you were worthy enough of him to talk openly with you, to compromise. If you told him that you wanted to be exclusive, that he couldn’t have sex with the wives or anyone else if he wanted to be with you, would he agree? If you said you wanted to officially be with him, despite not even knowing what label was appropriate to put on it, would he also want that? 

Seeming to know that you had a lot to think about, Ben stayed silent, the two of you walking side by side along the garden rows. After a few long minutes, you finally bumped his shoulder with yours and said thanks. He smiled in return and then promptly turned the conversation to more light-hearted topics. An hour later, and the two of you were laughing while walking back inside the Sanctuary and down the hall towards the kitchen for dinner prep. 

~  ~  ~  ~ ~

As if aware of the importance of the evening, dinner seemed to fly by. Before you knew it, the last empty plates had been brought back for the dish washers, and most of the other kitchen staff had left.

A glance at your watch showed that you had about seven minutes to get upstairs to Negan’s room, if you wanted to make the 7:30 deadline. Grabbing the two bowls of deer meat and veggie stew, you nuked them in the microwave and put them on a tray with a water pitcher, cups, and wrapped silverware. The remaining staff didn’t pay you any mind, but Ben gave a reassuring grin and supportive whisper of “you got this” as you exited the kitchen. 

Your stomach felt in knots at the prospect of what lay ahead, but if the conversation earlier with Ben had done one thing, it was to strengthen your resolve to talk things out with Negan. You were going to be assertive and honest, while also trying to be open and receptive to his responses...whatever they turned out to be.

You were so preoccupied with how to start the conversation that you didn’t even pay attention to the fact that you walked past various compound members in the halls carrying food for two. Even when you reached Negan’s floor, a whole hoard of Saviors could’ve been standing around and you wouldn’t have given them more than a quick, passing nod. There were more important things to focus on at the moment than who might see you coming up here. 

Especially if this goes horribly and it’s the last time you’re allowed up here after tonight. 

Both brain and subconscious attacked the self-doubt at the same time, pulverizing it into dust so that nothing stood in the way of you and that damned box of questions. 

Reaching the closed, and suddenly more imposing than usual, door, you stopped and took a few seconds to gather your wits. Inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, you muttered “here goes nothing” and balanced the tray on one hand so the other could lift and give a light knock. 

Rather than the expected yell to come in, there was a long silence. Sweat started to bead at the back of your neck at the thought that perhaps something else had come up and forced him to leave. Oh god, what if you had gotten yourself all pumped up only for him to not be here and…

The door in front of you suddenly opened, and the man who had blown both your heart and ability to be calm and collected to smithereens stood in the doorway wearing a drool-worthy navy tee that showed off his tanned neck and just a hint of chest hair. He gave a welcoming grin and “hiya, doll” before standing back for you to enter, which made a tiny bit of tension leak from your muscles. 

Entering the office, you crossed over to his open bedroom door and entered without hesitation, sensing more than hearing him follow. Once you had reached the small dining table and set the two bowls down, placed the silverware, and poured the glasses full of water, you moved to lean the tray up against the wall. 

When you turned back around, your heart leapt into your throat at the sight of him pulling back one of the chairs and waiting for you to move over and sit, so that he could push it into the table. While such gestures had at times annoyed you in the past, mostly because the idea that you couldn’t do something so simple as sit without the help of a man was utterly ridiculous, you melted at such a move from Negan. You now understood that he didn’t do those things because he thought you were incapable, but more as little signs of affection. It was the same reason why you had automatically prepared his food and drink as well as your own: not because you thought he couldn’t do it on his own, but because you wanted to do the simple gesture for him. It was the small actions that sometimes spoke volumes, and both of you seemed highly aware of that in the other. 

Settling in to eat, you realized that he had been suspiciously silent this evening. Granted, you had noticed that he seemed more relaxed in general when the two of you were alone, and you sometimes wondered if it was exhausting for him to put on that award-winning act of psychopathic comedian.

However, he hadn’t really spoken since greeting you at the door, and since you were still so in your head about how the hell to start such a serious and make-or-break conversation, you hadn’t been talking either. You were barely able to shovel down half of the stew, delicious as it was, before putting down the spoon and giving up. If you ate any more, you were afraid it wouldn’t stay down, since stress was taking up most of the room in your stomach. 

Staring at the bowl for a few long moments, you steeled your nerves and looked up just in time for him to finish the last spoonful of his own meal. He wiped his mouth with the napkin, gulped down the last of his water, and leaned back in his chair. His body gave off a relaxed, carefree air, one you wished you were able to replicate. His gaze, however, was sharp and intense on your face, as if it would give the answer to some unknown question if he stared hard enough. 

Yea, he’s probably wondering why the hell you’re just sitting here acting all weird and awkward. Say something!

Knowing that if you stalled much longer, you’d chicken out for good, you drew a heavy breath and prepared to blurt out god only knew what. 

As it turned out, you’d never know what your opening line would’ve been. Instead, it was Negan who beat you to the punch by taking a sledgehammer to the padlocks and throwing open the question box’s lid. 

“Doll,” he said seriously and with no preface. “I think we need to talk.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

#negan #negan fanfic #negan x you #negan x reader #ash writes #irresistible danger #twd #the walking dead #negan fanfiction #negan fanfics #slow burn #negan's thirst squad #twd negan #the walking dead negan #fanfics #fanfic #fanfiction #negan x oc #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

[stardustingold]

cabin fever

This was my final gift for my secret santa. Hope y’all enjoy and happy holidays :) @dharma-divine

Cabin fever: 

It’s cold. Was the first thought in your mind as you walked through the woods with Sam in search of more firewood for the bonfire you were having tonight with the boys and some mutual friends. Sam was walking a few steps in front of you, his carefree steps were annoying you. You wondered why Sam volunteered to you two to go venture out. As of late it seems that Sam was doing anything to get under your skin. It was the little things that drove you mad like the relentless teasing and name calling.  Deep down Sam knew he was doing it all for attention. His most recent thing was calling you pet names to try and get a reaction out of you. It all started with a movie night at Danny’s place. You were sitting with Josh just hanging out when he called you “angel” after you handed him some popcorn. You blushed, of course, and Sam was quick to spot it. Since then he has been calling you anything to try and see that blush again. Little did you know, he's been addicted to it ever since. 

  “Liv?” Sam questioned. You had spaced out thinking about this annoyingly handsome motherfucker. “Yeah” you answered quickly. “I asked you thought this was enough” he said while pushing up the wood to gesture to it. “Oh um” you looked down realizing that you didn’t have any wood in your own arms. “Let me grab some real quick,” you said. “Yeah, better make yourself useful” he smirked. It was the little off hand comments he made that made you remember why you didn’t like him anymore. You had met Josh in an art class and he immediately attached himself to you. He said that you were his “perfect balance” because you matched his energy in the opposite way. He introduced you to Sam about 2 weeks later. You two started off okay. Sam was civil but not exactly welcoming. You asked Josh about it, but he always brushed it off saying it was just teasing. Now you are here on a camping trip with them and trying to figure out if you should impress Sam with your wood picking skills or simply ignore him like you have been doing. Personally, he makes you laugh sometimes and is totally breathtaking, but then he ruins it with his behavior. “Alright, that should be good” you breathe out, arms now full of wood. “Good girl” Sam says, tapping your head and walking past you back to the fire. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he had a stupid smile on his face. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the term sent a shiver down your spine. 

 Returning back to camp, you sat down next to Josh. “You two were gone for a long time, anything you want to tell me?” Josh asked with a playful smile on his face. “Nope, nothing to tell” you dismiss him. “Okayyyyy” he responds as he lightly elbows your side. You push him back with a giggle. “Jesus guys, get a room” Jake jokes. His comment makes Sam look over in your direction. You catch his eye for a second before rolling your eyes at Jake. “She wishes she could bag a Kiszka” Sam responds, turning back to face Danny. “Oh please, you’d fuck anything with a pulse” you shoot back. Sam scoffs “Please, you’d have to beg me to fuck you princess” Alright, that was kinda hot. “You’d love that wouldn’t you” you try to say convincingly but you couldn’t help but to feel caught blushing. The conversation quickly moves on but the lingering stares between Sam and you were happening too often for your liking. After an hour you decide to call it a night. Josh is quick to follow behind you, shouting loudly about going on a hike in the morning. “Sooooo what was that all about?” Josh inquires while you start getting the bed ready. “I have no idea, he’s so cocky” you sigh. “You two should fuck” you roll over “what?” “I mean, it’s only natural. The tension is there ya know?” Josh says over his shoulder. “Good night josh” you lay back down. Great! Now all I can think about is  possibly fucking Sam. Maybe, just maybe, if he wasn’t a total dick, I could see it. He is super hot and would definitely let you cum first. He probably looks the same as when he plays. Hair flying in his face, slightly sweaty, mouth open. At least he knows to call you a good girl. God you could hear it now “you want it princess” unfortunately yes, you do want it. Damn. And with that you drift off to bed. 

Waking up to Josh nagging you about getting up and getting for the hike was not the ideal morning, but nevertheless you went to brush your teeth. After getting semi ready you head down to the living room. Once Josh made sure everyone was present and ready, the group headed out to the small hiking trail. Josh led, followed by Sam, Danny and Kenzie, then you, and Jake and Jita being the last in the train. Kenzie slowed her step to match yours. “Hey, what’s going on?” She asks. “Nothing, I’m just chilling. What’s up with you” you reply. “Oh you know, on a hike and shit” she smiles. “No way, me too” you say pretending to be shocked. She giggles a little before turning and asking if you were going to swim at the lake with them later today. You accept and decide that it would be fun to be out in the sun for a while. The hike takes around an hour and once you reach the top you frown at the sight before you. Sam is laying on top of Danny who is hanging over a cliff. You immediately fill with worry and quickly start yelling at them to get down. Sam reluctantly gets off Danny and away from the cliff. As he passes you he mutters “buzzkill”. You fire back “excuse me for caring about your safety”. “I didn’t ask you too” Sam replies. “Fucking rude” you mutter but Sam turns around “the fuck you say?” “I said that you a fucking rude” you answer, not backing down as he is now only a few steps away from you. “Don’t be a brat,Liv ” he says, eyeing you. You huff and walk past him. Josh is giggling and starts walking back with you to the cabin. Once you reach the cabin you change into your bathing suits and eat a quick lunch. 

  The water is a beautiful crystal blue and you smile as you run your hand through it. You feel water hit your leg and turn to find Josh wanting a water war. You push water back at him and it’s game on. The two of you quickly get soaked. Laughing and splashing each other back. Little did you know, you were being watched. Sam sat at the bay, watching the way you tilted your head back to laugh. He watched the way you smiled at Josh and couldn’t help the jealousy from bubbling up in him. That should be him making you laugh. He nearly lost it when Josh wrapped his arms about your waist to bring you down to the water. Sam couldn’t stop himself from watching the water droplets fall from your face down your chest. God what he would do to be a water droplet at that moment. You turned around and began swimming back to the bay. Once on land again, you walked past Sam to get to your towel. Sam internally groaned at the sight of you, still wet, and watching your ass as you walked by him. He felt himself begin to get hard. It was even worse when you bent down to dry yourself off. You could feel his eyes at that point and began to give him a little show. You bent over, drying your legs slowly. You then got up and shook your hair a little bit bringing a slight shake to your boobs. You knew what you were doing. From the corner of your eye you see Sam get up and storm off back to the cabin. Damn, guess I really pissed him off. 

 Once Sam got back to the cabin he went to shower. He couldn’t watch you tease him anymore. He was rock solid and had to leave before you noticed. He got into the shower and his hands immediately found his cock. He was already leaking precome just thinking about your little show. Sam started to stroke himself, thinking about kissing the swells of your breast that were peeking out from the bathing suit you wore. Turning his thought to your ass, he began to fuck his hand. Short little thrusts into his right hand as his left was placed in the wall to support himself. He groaned as he thought of hearing her moan. He wondered what she would sound like, feel like. If she liked her neck kissed or if she would ride his face. He let out a small “fuck” and the thought of her moaning above him as he eat her out. 

Walking in the cabin, you could hear the water running. You walked up the stairs to the bathroom only to hear a small groan and your name being called out. After debating for a second you decide to open the door a crack. You couldn’t see much due to the  stream and the shower curtain but you were certain it was Sam touching himself to you. You listened for a few seconds, Sam sounded close. He let out a little whine and you could tell that he was fucking his hand even harder than before. Sam groaned out a “fuckkkkk Liv” before cumming all over his hand. He was breathing heavily for a second before you moved away and walked to your bedroom. Holy shit you thought as you moved to take off your bathing suit. It definitely was the lake water, that’s why my bottoms are so wet you told yourself. Fuck, that just made this trip way harder. 

Sam couldn’t help himself, he heard the door creak as it opened, but he was so fucking close. The image of liv stuck in  his head. He gripped a little harder and started snapping his hips up into his hand. Using his pointer finger he ran over the tip a few times and with one final image of Liv’s tits he was cumming. He tossed his head back and let himself cum all over his hand. Still coming down from his high, he heard the door close. 

Later that night you all gathered around the living room floor about 2 shots and 3 drinks in. Everyone was slightly drunk with Sam being the most sober. He was conflicted. He liked teasing you because you gave him attention. But he couldn’t help but wonder if you had feelings for his older brother. She laughs around him, smiles because of him. And all I get out of her is a giggle every now and then and an annoyed look. You could see that Sam was not 100% there and it made you wonder if he was thinking about what happened in the shower. The game of truth or dare had gotten boring for you and you chose to focus your attention on Sam and the tension in his face and he thought about you. Kenzie caught your attention as Josh had called out your name. “Dare” you say, not really paying attention. “I dare you to lock yourself in the closet with Sam for 10 minutes'' Josh shouted, smiling at you as your eyes grew wide. Sam reached a hand out to you “let’s go princess” he smirked. You hesitate and look at Kenzie who is throwing up two thumbs up at you. You follow Sam, still holding his hand, as he leads you to the closet in the hallway. You can hear the boys celebrating as you close the door. The closet is small and dark. You can feel a broom and some old shelves behind you. Your knees are touching Sam’s as he is one step away from being chest to chest with you. There is a sliver of light peeking between the side of the door. You go to turn the light on, but a hand stops you. “Let’s keep them off, adds to the mood” Sam states. You let your hand fall but notice that Sam is still holding onto your wrist. You feel his thumb rubbing the area. “Your heart is beating so fast” he says in a teasing manner. “Do I make you nervous angel ?” You shake your head, not realizing that he can’t see you. “No” you  forced out. He chuckles and then brings your hand to his chest. His heart is beating fast too. “Do you hate me?” You ask. Not sure where the confidence is coming from. “I don’t hate you” Sam starts “but I hate that you constantly tease me.” “Tease you?” You question. “Yeah, constantly being around me, giving me that look with those damn hazel eyes” you start to feel heat in your cheeks. “Always hanging around Josh and sticking that ass out in my face. Don’t think I didn’t see your little show today” he brings his face closer to your ear. You can feel his chest connecting with your, only your hand separating the two of you. “And you know what I did after your little show” he slowly brings his knee in between your thighs. You can feel him start to press up into your core. “What did you do?” You breathe out. Sam slides his thigh up and connects it to your core. “I think you know you dirty girl” he chuckles. “I don’t” you rush out. A little flustered by his thigh starting to rub against you. “I jacked off to you” he states “and now, you are going to ride my thigh.” You can’t help but to grind down a little bit on his thigh but still feel nervous. “Come on sweet girl, it’s only fair that I get to watch you now”. You freeze “I didn’t- I um didn’t see” you start but he cuts you off with a kiss. You melt into his mouth as he kisses you with a passion you never knew. His lips were softer than you imagined. As you pull away for air, he says  “It’s okay princess, I find it hot that you like to watch, now ride my thigh I wanna see you cum” and with that he starts kissing down your neck. Your brain can’t keep up with your hips so when you don’t move Sam stops too “Are you okay?” He questions “we don’t have to go anything if you don’t want, maybe I read the situation wrong” he says pulling away. You grip his shoulder to stop him “No! No! I want this, I swear. I’m just a little nervous I guess” you answer. He resumes to his original position and grips your hips. “Well get to riding girl” He says. He removes his hand from your hips and moves it to your ass to help you get a better angle. The friction is delicious on your clit. Sam’s short shorts and your leggings made a wonderful combo as you grind down on Sam’s muscular thigh. Sam leans back and away from your neck. You are sure that he left a few marks. “Look at you, you like that sweet girl” he asks you. You moan out a yes, trying to keep quiet. “You know, I always pictured what you would look like when I pleasured you” Sam says. You were sure you were quite the sight to see. You knew your mouth was slightly open, you were panting and a little sweaty because you were in a closet. “That’s it, my good girl, you look so pretty getting yourself off on me.” Holy fuck this man is going to be the death of me. Sam moved forward and dragged his nose across the top of your breast. “Can I suck on them please?” he asked looking up at you. You nod and he pulls down your top. Your boobs pop out and he is all over them. His right hand grips your hip to help you keep rhythm as his left hand comes to hold your right breast. He flicks his tongue out to flick your nipple. You let out a groan and place your hands in his hair. He takes your nipple into your mouth as you start to grind harder against his thigh. You can’t help but whimper when bites down gently on the bud. He releases that breast with a kiss and moves to the other one. You are losing your mind. You knew that you needed to come soon before Josh came and opened the door to see you riding his brother with your tits in his mouth. Sam can sense your urgency as he can feel the wet patch on his leg grow in size. “Cmon sweet girl, cum for me” Sam pleads, abandoning your boobs to focus on getting you off. You grip his shoulder and grind down faster, feeling the tension grow. With a few more thrust you tip your head back, feeling the waves of pleasure coursing through you as you reach your high. Sam groans at the site, he thought that you never looked more beautiful than right now, coming undone by him. “60 seconds lovebird” Josh chimes as he juggled the door handle. “We gotta go princess” Sam says with a slight slap to your ass. You two pull apart and you begin to straighten yourself up. “Um, what are we going to do about this” Sam says, pointing down to the wet spot on his shorts. You turn bright red but before you can speak Josh opens the door. His stupid smile turns into full on giggles as he puts his arm around Sam. “Well well well, what do we have hear” Josh smirks pointing to the spot on Sam’s shorts. You two share a look of panic before Sam laughs under his breath “no one could resist this” he smiles and you roll your eyes. “What am I going to do with you” you sign. “More like when am I going to do you” he jokes back. 

[angelicmichael]

living after midnight

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke

Summary: Brooke and Montana get a bit intoxicated and get a bit carried away while going night swimming. Based off this post I made a week ago hehe

Words: 3.1k+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and also vague mentions of weed, stripping (no nudity tho LOL), lotssss of sexual tension, lots of fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, weird yearning angst for like .02 seconds lmao

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if this is random but I got random inspo for brotana so.. here this is lmao. Believe it or not I did try to make this under 1k words but.. I got carried away so I’m sorry that’s it’s long 😭. But the fic happens sometime after Brooke and Montana meet but before any camp redwood fuckery happens lmao. Anyway I hope y’all like this!! This is also probably the fastest I’ve ever written a fic so I hope it’s atleast decent haha. Anyway enjoy <3

A gentle breeze danced against Brookes exposed skin. The midnight air cold on its own regard but it seemed to blend perfectly with the extensive heat that radiated from the bonfire she sat in front of.

The night was entirely pitch black. The moon was vacant from the sky, leaving the only source of light to come from the giant fire that sat at Brookes shoes.

It was admittedly a bit unsettling being in almost the total darkness, especially with how many girls had recently gone missing in L.A as of late but the beer in her system had mostly put those thoughts to rest. Plus, being with three men and Montana was also reassuring. Even if she didn’t exactly know Xavier, Chet or Ray that well but.. she knew Montana.

It was nearly impossible to forget about how they met.. in the girls locker room in the showers and well; it’s not as if things were any less weird now. Showers or not.

It’s not as if Brooke and Montana were best friends or super close, because that definitely wasnt the case; but they weren’t acquaintances either by any means. The weird tension and ‘playfulness’ that lied between them ruled out being friends.. or that’s Brooke liked to think anyway when she had one too many things to drink. Like now.

Her legs twitched a bit restlessly; content at the ambience that surrounded her but not content with her current state of being. Like how she knew she should be enjoying herself, drunk, not caring about particularly anything at all but instead all she could do was fucking care. Her thoughts were purely infiltrated with Montana and it was embarrassing, to say the least but now that she was intoxicated there was really no harm in fighting it. No matter how annoying and taunting those thoughts truly were.

After all, Why should she not think about how nice it would be to feel Montana’s hands (which she knew had to be soft and delicate) on her waist and down her back? Why should she not think about Montana’s soft lips moving against her own, a few strands of her bleached hair (which definitely had lost it softness due to excessive over bleaching) brushing up against her face accidentally?

That was a rhetorical question; because she knew exactly why she avoided those type of thoughts on a normal day to day basis. Not because it would make things awkward between them but because it was beyond fucking painful to imagine scenarios that would never happen.. Never.

The smell of the fire and the sounds of the wood crackling, which was far too dry and poorly stacked (neither Xavier, Chet or Ray could build a proper fire to save their life), helped bring Brooke out of her thoughts and bit more into reality. So did the gentle sway of the tree branches which she could see in her peripheral vision, since they were right on the cusp of a forest that cut off to a beach. Ocean waves which slowly dragged across the sand were also soothing to listen too, albeit distant over the sound of Brookes friends screaming and laughing and being heavily intoxicated over what was more than just alcohol and weed.

Brooke reached down and swiftly grabbed the beer can which was previously lodged upright in the sand. Lifting the can up to her lips and cringing and unconsciously tensing up as she swallowed until the can was nearly weightless - wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just to see-

“Montana?!” Brooke nearly yelled. Both alcohol and temporary shock making her speak way louder than what was realistically needed.

Montana, who was previously standing several feet away with the boys was suddenly seated right next to Brooke on the log with no warning. Probably having moved over while Brooke was poorly chugging the alcohol she hated.. but she couldn’t help but to notice that their thighs (as well as basically their entire sides) were touching as she tried to wipe the alcohol that had embarrassingly dripped down her front in a frenzy.

Chet and Xavier looked back at them from a few feet away as they smoked what Brooke knew had to be a joint. Briefly laughing and giving the pair of women an amused glance before turning around and immersing themselves in whatever conversation they were previously having.

Brooke sheepishly met Montana’s gaze, feeling her cheeks grow nearly unbearably hot at the awareness that she was now being watched.. studied almost.

“Sorry,” Brooke added with a giggle.

Montana responded with a slight upturn of her lips; amused with Brookes actions not because she found it necessarily funny or pitiful, but for the sole reason that.. it was cute and endearing that Brooke couldn’t really hold her alcohol for shit.

It made her unique and different from everyone else Montana acquainted herself with. People that Montana had to basically learn to keep up with.. but Brooke on the other hand was different.. She was a breath of fresh air, and that’s why Montana assumed she was so attracted to her (besides her looks, of course).

Montana tried her best to ignore and not be bothered by the fact that Brooke was wasting perfectly good alcohol by wiping it off herself (alcohol that Montana wouldn’t necessarily mind licking off Brookes lips.. or her neck, or really anywhere else off of her). Instead focusing on how suffocated she felt here.

It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. After all; she loved Chet, Xavier and Ray dearly but.. they were also undoubtedly preventing anything from happening between her and Brooke.. and that needed to change.

Montana huffed. Her deep brown eyes quickly flickering at the flame and then Brooke before speaking.

“Im bored,” she announced. Suddenly standing up and not letting her eyes break the gaze she suddenly held with Brooke.

Brooke responded with a simple hum. Her jaw quickly dropping once she noticed that Montana’s bright red nails quickly darted down under her own shirt. Hooking the material under her fingertips before quickly raising the shirt up and over her head. Throwing it back somewhere behind the log Brooke still sat on.. somewhere where Brooke was almost certain Montana wouldn’t be able to locate later.. which was probably done on purpose.

Brookes jaw still stayed ajar when she saw Montana’s hands automatically fly down to the small jean shorts she was wearing. She could do nothing but watch as she saw the button unhook- wait.. what exactly was happening?

“Montana, what are you doing?” Brooke asked with a laugh.

Brooke tried her best to fight the urge to look at her friend who was now well.. in her bra and underwear, out of what she was trying to convince herself was respect, but it wasn’t working. She knew for a fact her cheeks had to burnt bright fucking red; she tried to laugh off the feeling but Montana still stared.. her smile slowly growing wider until sudden laughter momentarily broke the tension again.

Brooke and Montana both looked behind them just to find the boys laughing and whooping as well at Montana’s sudden lack of clothes.

Brooke smiled back at them but it only lasted a second before she found herself overtaken with a emotion she never really felt around Montana before.. was it jealousy?

Just the sight of them staring at Montana (who obviously didn’t give a fuck, or was thriving off the attention more than anything) was enough to make Brooke stand up.

“Go swimming with me?” Brooke suddenly proposed. More than certain that her sudden impulsivity was coming from the alcohol more than anything.. it had to be, right?

Brooke looked Montana in the eyes again as she watched the other woman’s expression suddenly change at her words; looking utterly shocked and.. maybe a bit thrilled.

“You want to go swimming?” Montana nearly sneered, her tone reeked off utter disbelief, “and what are you gonna wear?”

Brooke laughed at what the other woman was implying. Her dark brown eyes slipped down to admire the rest of Montana’s body that she dared not to look at previously. Only looking for a second at the matching cherry red set that Montana wore. A bra which was most definitely too tight and cut a bit small, along with a thong with sat a bit high on her hips which only accentuated her figure even further.

She didn’t have time to think; her eyes darting back up to meet Montana’s which she knew were watching her.

“I’m not going naked-“

“You don’t have too. It’s not like their gonna see us anyway once we get away from the fire. Here.”

They both spoke in hushed whispers. Weirdly paranoid that maybe the boys would overhear and wanna join which- was something they both clearly didn’t want, although unspoken.

The distance between them was minimal enough due to alcohol (and other substances in Montana’s case) running high in their systems. Making personal space something that was now nonexistent.

Montana extended her hand out to Brooke to take. She quickly grabbed her hand, hoping desperately it wasn’t sweaty from how close they were to the fire and also.. just from the situation she was bound to find herself in. But due to Montana’s reaction (or lack thereof) she knew she had nothing to worry about.. sweaty palms or not, she knew Montana wouldn’t judge her. No matter how insane the circumstance; Brooke always felt safe around Montana. That’s why she supposed she was currently following her into the pitch black - her vision getting more and more sparse as they walked away from the fire and into some nearby trees that framed the beach..

“Are you sure they can’t see me?” Brooke asked, trying her best to look through the trees and see if any of her friends happened to be looking but - she couldn’t really make out anything besides the subtle outline of her surroundings which included Montana.

“They can’t see you. Relax,” Montana said with a giggle. “Now do I need to help you undress? Your taking forever and I’m hot- and it’s not like I haven’t seen you wearing less-“

Brooke tried her best to look offended and shocked by her reference to how they met. She knew that normally with nothing in her system she would’ve easily sidestepped Montana’s ruthless flirting but.. something felt different about tonight. After all; why should she keep trying so hard to resist something they both felt? And it wasn’t like anyone could see them anyway..

Brooke quickly turned her head to where she knew Montana was and stepped closer until they were barely a foot apart. Her feet nearly stumbled on Montana’s from the proximity; biting her lip to prevent herself from stupidly giggling once she felt hot breath on her cheek.

She grabbed Montana’s hands which first held hers back limply but briefly held hers tighter before Brooke directed her hands on her shirt.

“Take it off,” Brooke uttered. Her voice barely audible but not quite loud enough to be discerned as a whisper.

Montana didn’t hesitate as she quickly took Brookes shirt off, barely feeling the soft fabric against her fingertips before she quickly threw it behind them into the forest. Montana didn’t wait for Brooke to say anything before her fingers were quickly undoing the button and the zipper of her jean shorts which were only thrown somewhere in the forest as well (hopefully near her shirt.. Brooke could only hope).

Brooke tried her best to not look bothered by her sudden lack of clothes but she also knew that was purely idiotic since they were in the pitch black.

Nevertheless she looked down at herself, trying to discern whether her figure was actually visible or not but Montana grabbed her hand again. Making her gaze snap upward as she led her out. She knew they were going out to the water now; the sand under her feet and the fire now visible from a distance as they continued to go out. The sand becoming more grainy and nearly painful to step on as they got closer to the water.

Brooke quickly looked over her shoulder before she took the first step in - still holding onto Montana’s hand. She quickly glanced to see if any of the men they had came with were watching but surely enough they were still talking and laughing as if they didn’t even notice they had gone missing.. and they probably hadn’t given how fucked up they were.

Perfect.

She continued to hold onto Montana’s hand as she went further and further into the water; not phased by the sudden coolness she felt as the water wrapped around her legs.. submerging her further and further until they both finally stopped. The water lapping around Brookes waist, and well, nearly Montana’s chest since she was a few inches shorter than Brooke.

The water seemed to be a perfect temperature despite them being at the ocean; and the rocks had since disappeared under their feet and changed back into soft sand which also made the current situation a bit more enjoyable.

Brooke tilted her head back a bit, worried momentarily that her hair might get wet but it was worth it. It was absolutely breathtaking.

The night sky which previously looked completely black and void of any light whatsoever was now painted with what looked to be a million stars.

“Do you see this?” Brooke asked.

“What, the stars?” Montana answered, her voice holding a bit of amusement to it and almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah,” Brooke affirmed with a nod. Still keeping her gaze fixated to the night sky.

“What about them?” Montana asked.

The water rippled a bit as Montana started to a take a few steps closer towards Brooke, dissatisfied at the distance between them.

“Nothing. I just- it’s beautiful. I never do things like this,” Brooke responded, tilting her head down to make eye contact with Montana as she finished her sentence.

Montana smirked.

“Never?” She asked with a laugh. “C'mon. I’m not wet enough, let’s go deeper.”

Before Brooke could protest, Montana grabbed both of her hands and pulled her deeper in the water.

“But I didn’t bring a towel!”

“Your not gonna need one. We can warm up by the fire, remember?”

They continued to keep wading until the water almost spilled over Montana’s shoulders. The water barely touching Brookes collarbones but getting some of her hair wet regardless.

She hesitantly let go of the other woman’s hand in the water, intent on using her hand to help her gain balance since a few rocks were still on the ocean ground but - the exact opposite happened.

Brooke didn’t even have time to gasp or scream before her left foot quickly slid on a random rock that just.. of course.. had to fucking be there. Her hands quickly landed on Montana’s shoulders; the rest of her body accidentally falling into the other woman’s but she only felt Montana’s hands suddenly grab gently at her back. Holding her in place against her body.

Brookes eyes instinctively closed shut but when she slowly opened them and reluctantly lifted her head higher up (silently cursing herself for accidentally getting her hair almost entirely wet now) she noticed.. how close they were to each other.

Her nose was only centimeters away from Montana's shoulder.. which meant-

“Are you okay?” Montana asked softly, speaking unintentionally right next to her ear which made a shiver run up Brookes spine.

“Mhm,” Brooke responded.

She rose her head up further - her vision fully black now due to closing her eyes so tightly and being disoriented from slipping, but she knew from hearing Montana’s voice that she had to be close. Very close.

Moving her head a bit to the left.. almost microscopically, not wanting whatever ‘this’ was to necessarily be clumsy but she knew she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Montana continued to whisper.

Brooke couldn’t help but to smile and let out a giggle that made her sound far more drunk than she actually was. She knew exactly where Montana’s lips were now due to her speaking. Thank god.

“You’ll see.”

Brooke leaned in slowly. Briefly bumping noses before catching Montana’s lips with her own. The feeling so heavenly and overdue - not enough but simultaneously far too much to take in all at once.

The taste of dull, gut wrenching beer started to flood her mouth. It was all that Montana basically tasted like.. that and a bit like smoke but Brooke didn’t mind. If anything it made the feelings of infatuation temporarily stronger. Brookes nails started to pierce the other woman’s back; wanting nothing more than to just have.. more. More of Montana; her taste, her hands, her touch.. the feeling was both pathetic but impossible to fight any longer.

The mere thought that this was something she was previously holding herself back from having was almost laughable but- that would be something to think about for another time.

Montana’s lips softly broke from hers.

“Eager.. aren’t you?” She teased.

Brookes eyes still refused to adjust but she knew Montana had to be grinning.

“Sorry.. I just-“

“Don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Montana said lowly.

Montana suddenly leaned in with no warning. Her hands softly grabbed Brookes shoulders; leaning in to pull her bottom lip with her teeth.

After she let go, the feeling to kiss her again was strong but.. she thought of something better. The thrill of the chase was something Brooke always enjoyed, after all.

Brooke took a few steps back suddenly before quickly heading for the shore. Not really going that fast at all due to the resistance of the water pushing up against her legs but she laughed regardless.

She could hear Montana laughing and calling her a jerk in the distance but it was all just noise at this point. Her voice, the water rushing, the fire and their friends (which grew gradually louder as she approached) all started to sound the same.

Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

Even though Brooke definitely felt tipsy, she still felt nervous the closer she got from being fully submerged out of the water. Maybe it was due to the fact she wasn’t certain what was going to happen at the fire, or if their friends had even heard anything but she knew atleast now she would have Montana. Exactly how she had Montana was something to be determined later, but as she finally stepped out and away from the nearly black ocean waves and ran up to the fire to go wait for Montana - she was comforted by the thought that things would now never be the same and forever would be different between the two of them.

Which had to be a good thing; right?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @waitinvain @twilightzone24

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#brooke x montana #brooke thompson x montana duke #brotana #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #my fic #will post to ao3 soon 😌 #did I procrastinate my Andy fic to write this?? maybe lmao #I’m almost done w my Andy fic tho I swear 😭 #i know I never talk about brotana so this is probably random asf but I just wanted to write something wlw 😌

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 03: Been A While

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Your second summer in the Outer Banks becomes a whole lot more complicated when you realize a year away from Rafe hasn't changed your feelings for him at all.

a/n: And we're back with summer two - the summer before sophomore year whoop whoop! Writing this gave me butterflies so I hope you have the same feeling reading it! I always love hearing y’all’s commentary so don't be shy to scream about your favorite parts back at me.

word count: 2.5k words

Your mom reached over and tapped you gently on the arm.

"Put your phone away please, y/n. You can text Evan when we land."

"We're not even moving yet." You replied.

As if on cue, the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom. "Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. Welcome onboard Flight 4B7 with service from Portland to the Outer Banks. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage..."

You stashed your phone in the pocket of the seat in front of you and closed your eyes, hoping that by the time you woke up you would be landing.

After the way last summer had gone, you were surprised when your mom announced that you were spending the summer in the Outer Banks again.

Frankly, you weren't that happy to be headed to North Carolina. Alice and Kensie, your two best friends back home, had opted not to go to camp this summer so the three of you had planned to spend every day at Alice's pool, biking to the Dairy Queen a few blocks away or begging of your moms to drive you to the mall.

Plus, there was Evan. Your boyfriend of six months. You'd both been cast as the understudies for the leads in the fall musical. Because of some freak food-poisoning accident, both you and Evan had to go on as Cinderella and Prince Charming in the final show. When he kissed you under the bright stage lights, it had felt like more than just a stage kiss. He'd asked you out at the cast party later than night and you'd been dating ever since.

Evan was great. He really was. He was thoughtful and cared about you. But ever since your mom had bought the plane tickets to the Outer Banks back in March, every time you kissed Evan you could only think of Rafe Cameron.

☼☼☼

You trailed behind your mother on the way to baggage claim, bent over your phone responding to the texts Alice and Kensie had sent in the group chat while you'd been in the air. Apparently, they'd bumped into Kensie's crush and need to analyze every detail. A feeling of jealously you hadn't anticipated crept into your chest, weighing you down. Even indoors, the muggy heat of the Outer Banks made it clear how far from Oregan - and from your people - you were.

You looked around the airport, searching for the baggage claim with your flight number and noticed an incredibly familiar head of blonde head of hair standing nearby.

"Sarah Cameron?" You asked.

Sarah spun around a joyful smile on her face. "Oh my god! Y/n!" She ran over, wrapping you in a hug. "Are you back for the summer?"

You nodded your head which elicited another excited scream from her.

"What are you doing at the airport?" You asked her.

"You'll never guess! We're getting a house in the Bahamas!" She gushed.

"Sarah!" A deep voice called. You looked up to see another older-looking version of Rafe headed in your direction.

Your mom froze beside you. "Oh dear," she whispered.

The man's gaze didn't leave your mom. "Heather," he said.

"Ward," she responded.

Oh, you thought. So that's Rafe's dad.

"It's good to see you," your mom continued. "You look," she paused for moment, "good."

"You as well," Ward responded.

The carousel behind you started to move and luggage streamed out.

"That's us," your mom said, pointing over to the moving carousel. "We should go."

"I'll tell Rafe you're back," Sarah whispered to you. "He's gonna be so excited."

You smiled down at her knowing that you'd already made a vow to yourself to avoid him all summer. You refused to let Rafe ruin what you and Evan had and the only way you could guarantee that was making sure you didn't see him at all.

☼☼☼

Sarah bounded in the front door of the Cameron's house. "We're home" she called out, her sing-songy voice echoing through the big house. Ward entered after her, carrying their luggage.

"Welcome home," Rose said, greeting Ward at the door with a kiss.

Sarah rolled her eyes at the exchange. It wasn't that she actively hated her step-mom, she would just have rather her dad not married her. Though he was buying her a house in the Bahamas as an anniversary present so maybe she wasn't all bad.

"Is Rafe upstairs?" Sarah asked.

"I think so," Rose replied.

Sarah ran up the stairs, skipping every other one, the way Ward always told her not to do. She came to a sudden stop in front of Rafe's closed door.

"Rafeeeeee," she yelled, knocking rapidly until his voice bellowed back at her through the wall.

"What do you want Sarah? Go away!" He yelled.

"Fine," Sarah said. "I guess you don't care that y/n is back in town then?"

The door swung open just a few seconds later. “What did you say?” Rafe asked.

“Y/n was at the airport. She’s back in the Outer Banks for the summer.” Sarah turned on her heel and sashayed her way to her own bedroom leaving Rafe in his doorway to process the information.

Maybe this summer will be a whole less boring, Rafe thought.

☼☼☼

The summer was going exactly how you'd expected. It was surprisingly nice to have your younger brother to keep you company and more importantly, keep you busy. You spend your days either on the beach, tanning, watching your brother splash in the waves, and making your way through the reading list of the Honors English class you had opted to take next year or at the Club's pool, eating chicken tenders for lunch and washing them down with the thick chocolate milkshakes.

Rafe's friends frequently made an appearance at the Club. You watched them sneak vodka from flaskes into cups of spirit from being your shaded sunglasses. So far, Rafe had yet to join them.

Currently, Phoebe was flirting hardcore with Sawyer, begging him to put sunscreen on her back so she wouldn't burn. It was all too predictable.

You turned your attention back to Nick Carraway and his descriptions of Gatsby's grand parties momentarily.

You heard Sarah's voice before she appeared next to you and plopped down on the chair your brother had been occupying before he decided he needed more ketchup for his fries and had ran off.

"Y/n," she started with the same youthful energy she always talked with, "has Rafe invited you to our Fourth of July party yet?"

"Umm," you hesitated. "No, he hasn't said anything about it."

"Ugh," Sarah threw her head back in a dramatic motion. "I told him to text you about it. He's useless. Anyway, we throw a huge party for the Fourth every year and you have to come. There are fireworks and everything..."

Sarah's monologue faded to the background as you looked up and noticed Rafe standing at the top of the steps that lead down the pool. Your stomach flopped in the same way it always did when you saw him.

Rafe started walking down the steps and a small panic set in. His own eyes wandered across the pool deck and it was only time before he recognized you. You shifted your body slightly, trying to use Sarah to block yourself from his view.

You turned your attention back to his younger sister, afraid that you'd accidentally make eye contact with Rafe.

Crap, crap crap, you repeated in your head. Rafe was for sure heading in your direction. Even as you forced yourself to focus on Sarah, you couldn't stop yourself from watching Rafe out of the corner of your eye and he was walking straight toward you. Your 'avoid-Rafe-all-summer' plan was going to be impossible now. With every step he took, you could feel your heart beating faster. It felt just like last summer.

Rafe stopped in front of the chair Sarah was sitting in and you couldn't stop yourself from looking up at him, a smile threaten to slide onto your face. The same warm but dangerous feeling you only got when Rafe was around took ahold of you.

"Sarah," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Ward's looking for you."

She jumped up with a sudden spurt of energy, "Okay, I'll go find him!" She leaned down engulfing you in another hug. "See you around y/n." She said before running off.

"Bye Sarah." You replied.

"You know, you're like my sister's favorite person," Rafe said, still standing above you. "She mentioned you were in-town for the summer..." He let his sentence trail off.

But I hadn't seen you around. You finished for him in your head.

"Yeah, we got in about a week ago." You said. The tension that hung in the air between the two of you was exactly the reason you were trying to avoid him. The last time you had seen him he'd kissed you in a way you hadn't been able to get out your head for months afterward. It was a dangerous game. Nonetheless, here he was standing in front of you and you were barely holding it together.

Your phone began to ring and the photo of Evan kissing your check from homecoming popped up with the caller id. Rafe's eyes glanced over it and an unreadable expression crossed his face.

Right, it was 4 o'clock on Wednesday. The time and day you and Evan had decided you would call each other every week.

"Uhh, I gotta get this." You said to Rafe, reaching over and picking up the phone.

"Yeah, okay. See you later y/n." He replied before walking away from you and to his friends.

Your eyes followed him all the way even as you clicked answered and Evan's voice filled your ear.

☼☼☼

A feeling of nervousness set in as you approached the Cameron's, the absurd number of cars parked outside confirming you were at the right place. You glanced over each of your shoulders worried that your mom would pull up any second to drag you back home after you lied about where you were spending your evening. You felt decently bad about saying you were going to the Club to watch fireworks and coming to the Cameron's instead but you knew your family's stance on Rafe and his dad.

It seemed like the entire population of the Outer Banks was spread across the Cameron's backyard. Adults sipped festive cocktails as little kids, hyped-up onto much sugar, weaved in between their legs, chasing one another around. You looked around hesitantly, thankful when Sarah emerged from the crowd, frosting smeared across her face.

"You made it! I'm so happy you're here!" She screamed.

"Sarah," you laughed. "You have blue frosting all over you." You used your finger to wipe it from her cheek.

"Rose ordered the most delicious cake you've ever had. You have to try it. I can get you some. Do you want some?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm okay right now. Thank you though. Have you seen Rafe?" You asked. You were at his party, after all, it wasn't like there was any point in avoiding him now.

Sarah turned and pointed to the dock where Rafe and his group of friends were standing. "He's over there."

"Great. Okay! I'm going to go say hi."

"Have fun!" Sarah replied with a smile before running off in the same direction she's appeared in.

You made your way through the crowd to the dock, the groups' attention turning to you as you approached.

"Hey," you said, shyly.

Cleo and Riley jumped up from where they had been sitting with their legs dangling in the water.

"Y/n, right?" Cleo asked before leaning in for a hug.

"Yeah. Hi! It's good to see you guys again." You replied.

"You too! Rafe said you were back in town and I was wondering when you'd finally make an appearance." Cleo said.

You look over at Rafe to find him already watching you. He pushed through Cole and Milo and was suddenly in front of you

"Um, y/n and I need to get the fireworks." He said to the group. You watched Riley shoot Cleo a confused look but Cleo just shrugged it off.

Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you along, leaving you no choice but to follow him. You walked in silence, other than the sound of your heart beating rapidly.

Rafe stopped at a small brick shed on the side of the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling you in after. There were kayaks and paddleboards hanging on the walls and some old lifejackets littered the floor.

"Rafe-" you tried to start but he cut you off.

"Y/n, I seriously can't go one more minute without kissing you again."

Rafe looped his arm around your waist, cupped the back of your neck with his hand, and landed his lips on yours.

For a moment, you tilted your face upwards and leaned your body into his before your senses came rushing back to you and you shoved him backwards off of you. Surprise registered on his face.

"Rafe. No. I can't do this." Your voice broke, panic coursed through your whole body. "God, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come here today or followed you here."

"Y/n." Rafe said but held your hand up warning him to say quiet.

"I have to go. I have to go," you repeated. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry I missed the fireworks. I know she'll be disappointed. I have to go."

You turned to leave but Rafe grabbed your wrist and his eyes locked with yours, his expression begging you to stay.

"I have a boyfriend." You blurted out. The weight of those four words settled on Rafe's face and you jerked your arm out of his grasp. You spun on your heel and walked out the shed and putting distance between you and the boy making your life so complicated.

You crossed the Cameron's yard, trying to gather yourself and slow your chaotic, unsteady breathing. You hurried down the long driveway, making it to the road without any tears slipping out of your eyes.

Rafe had tried to kiss you. He hadn't tried, he had kissed you. And you sorta kissed him back. No, not sorta. You kissed him back. But then you stopped. You pushed him away. You realized it was wrong. You didn't want to hurt Evan. You weren't gonna hurt Evan.

The fireworks began to explode behind you, large booms thundered across the sky, their big colors illuminating the night. You didn't dare turn around watch them. They reminded you too much of Rafe: the boy pulling your head and your heart in two different directions.

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