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kiyo-cant-write · 2 days ago

Note

Could I have request for first year? You can choose them. About reader inviting to go out with them? Anything, probably going to park or go to restaurant. I'm a sucker for romance.

inviting the first years on a date ✧･ﾟ

Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long. I write fics with every character/scenario so doing the whole set of first years was a lot of fics, a lot of words. I hope each one is good! I love the first years, especially my boys Epel, Ortho, and Deuce! ^^

Thank you for requesting and feel free to request again!!

Summary: The reader asks the first years to go on a date. Includes all first years for headcanons and scenarios. This means that it includes: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Ortho Shroud, and Sebek Zigvolt.

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is also a first-year/frosh (implied ~16ish)

Guest Stars: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia

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Ace Trappola

Ace agrees right off the bat. He doesn't bat an eye.

He's even a little miffed [Name] asked him first.

He was planning to ask [Name] out, you know!

But it doesn't matter, the date's happening either way :)

Ace suggests that he and [Name] sneak out.

Something about not wanting to deal with the housewardens.

Even if [Name] protests, Ace will insist on sneaking about.

It's not a good idea but Ace had it so... it's impulsive.

"Come on, [Nickname]," Ace whispered to [Name], "You're gonna get us caught. You want to go on a date or not?"

Trying to make as little sound as possible, Ace came back towards [Name] to help them untangle themself from an unfortunately placed bush that had snagged their clothing. He held an index finger to his lips as he shushed them once more.

He still couldn't believe they asked him out first. The gall.

"If you want to go out at night like this," he continued, "Then you need to get better at sneaking around. Want to get collared?"

"I'm not part of your dorm," [Name] whispered back.

"That doesn't save you anything."

[Name] was about to retort but paused to consider it.

"Yeah," they agreed with a laugh, you're right."

Ace sighed. They were going to make this difficult, huh? If they got caught then what was it all for. Caught before they could even go on the date? That's just... kind of sad.

"Shh! No laughing until we're away from the main building."

"Fine, fine," they agreed, "We'd better not get detention for this."

The last time they had gone with an "Ace Plan" it had caused a week's worth of detention for both of them. The professors did not take kindly to Ace's schemes. They seemed almost disappointed that [Name] was involved with it too, but that didn't spare [Name] from detention.

"Relax, you worry too much. What are you, Deuce?"

[Name] laughed again and Ace covered their mouth with his hand. They moved his hand away a second later to respond.

"I like to think I've got more guts than Deuce."

"Good, then act like it," Ace told them, leading them toward the school gates, "We're gonna have an adventure tonight."

[Name] gave Ace a look. What was he talking about? Going out to the city after dark was their idea for a date. Why was Ace talking big?

"Wasn't this date my idea?" they asked him.

"Yeah, but I can't let you upstage me all the time." Ace smiled at them as he spoke, "I'm gonna get you back for that tenfold."

"For what?"

"Doesn't matter," he responded, taking their hand in his, "Let's go!"

They really loved this guy, even if it meant all the detentions and magic-removing collars in the world. Smiling along with him, [Name] squeezed Ace's hand as they let him lead their way.

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Deuce Spade

Deuce swears in front of [Name].

"Holy shit."

And then he covers his mouth right after, begging to do it over.

He didn't mean to say it, it was just his instinctual thought!!

Deuce's brain is composed of a long list of curse words and a perpetual fear of being expelled from Night Raven (again).

He tells [Name] that he would be glad to go on a date with them.

Deuce confides that he hasn't been on a date before because of his past in which he thought he was too much of a "bad boy" for that.

He's oddly excited about the date, in a way that makes him seem younger than he already is at sixteen.

Unlike Ace (previous scenario), Deuce thinks that he should ask his upperclassman, so he seeks out Trey in the kitchen.

Deuce, face burning red, led [Name] by hand through the halls of Heartslabyul Dorm. They were headed toward the kitchen to find the bespectacled man who would (hopefully) grant them permission to go on their date. Or, that was about how Deuce explained it and [Name] was just in for the ride now that Deuce had apparently broken some kind of honor student's vow by swearing in front of them.

"Please tell me you're not asking for Trey-san's blessing."

"What?" Deuce turned to look at them, "No! We need to ask permission if we want to go into town."

"We're going into town?" [Name] asked him.

This was far more than they had planned. Deuce nodded. If they were going on a date, a real date, Deuce wanted it to count. And from all the varying media he had consumed in his young life... going on a date meant going into town and doing... Uh. Cute couple-y things.

"I want this to be perfect," Deuce confessed, clearly trying to be cool but failing due to the redness of his cheeks, "You know?"

[Name] nodded.

"Right, perfect, yeah," they agreed.

The two arrived at the doorway into the kitchen of Heartslabyul.

"Clover-senpai?" Deuce asked, poking his head in to see Trey at work mixing some kind of batter, "Do you have a minute?"

[Name] poked in after Deuce, smiling at the smell of sugar from Trey's baking. They hoped they might get some of whatever it was.

"Hm? A minute or two, sure," Trey offered, smiling as he looked toward them, "What's up?"

"Uh," Deuce began, "[Name] and I..."

"[Name] and you...?"

"We were wondering if we could go on a date?"

"I mean, that seems like your decision, not mine," Trey said, teasing the boy for his phrasing just a bit, "But I assume you mean going into town?"

"Ah. Yes!"

Deuce nodded, trying to hide the fact that the redness that had faded was back in full bloom. [Name] felt a bit bad for him and decided to help.

"We wanted to make sure it was alright to go off campus," [Name] added, "Don't want to break any rules. So we came to ask you."

Trey just laughed softly at the two of them.

"It's fine with me, I'll let Riddle know," he told Deuce and [Name], "I assume you'd rather not write the essay to him yourselves."

Deuce nodded once more, looking at [Name] and urging them to nod too. Writing an essay for Riddle was never a fun task. It took more time to write the stupid essay than to do the thing you were writing the essay about.

"Thank you, Clover-senpai," Deuce said, bowing to him.

"Mhm! Thanks, Trey!" [Name] agreed as they mimicked Deuce's action.

Trey smiled at the two underclassmen of his.

"Heh, you two have fun."

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Jack Howl

Jack is at a loss for words. [Name] wants to go on a date with him?

What is the protocol here?

Part of him wants to ask Leona as an upperclassman...

But then the other guys will laugh at him!!! :(

He nods slowly, face tinged a red slightly.

He agrees to the date and says it would be rude to say "no."

Despite the somewhat gruff answer, his tail is wagging.

If it's pointed out, he will flat-out deny it as it wags faster.

Jack would rather die than let the other guys tease him about his date but God does not favor dogboys today.

In the end though... Leona is a smart guy...

Jack wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when you're asked on a date by the person you like? Do you say "yes"? He wanted to panic, just a tad. This was beyond his typical day, not something that he was used to. Did he have anywhere to turn for advice?

He could ask Leona... No, then Ruggie would laugh at him.

The wolf sighed, composing himself as he turned back to [Name].

"Uh, sure. I'll go with you," he told them.

That wasn't what he wanted to say but that sure was what he said. He had wanted to seem happier about it but his tone wouldn't allow it. Jack found that it was hard to sound how he was feeling. How did the actors in those movies do it? He couldn't express how he was feeling, how could he do that with another person's feelings?

[Name] had just smiled and him and told him they were looking forward to it before they took their leave. What did he do now? Jack was sure there was more to this whole dating business...

But where to start...

"Leona-senpai," Jack said, finding himself in the botanical garden later that same day, "Do you think that people can understand you from a sentence?"

The lion was sleeping or rather he was trying to while Jack asked him questions. It was luck that Jack had been asked to fetch something from the garden for class.

"What?" Leona offered, opening an eye to look at Jack, "Jack, I have no idea what in the fuck you're on about."

"Do you think [Name] understood me?" Jack asked.

"I mean if they're still going on the date, probably," Leona said, closing his eyes with a sigh, "This is one of those things time will tell or whatever. Just go on the date and see what happens."

"You sure?"

"I am. So stop asking me how [Name] feels and get back to class. You need it."

Jack tried to ignore that obvious snub from a guy who was skipping most of his classes on any given day. But... Leona was right. He had to go on this date and see what became of his relationship with [Name] from there. "...Thanks."

"Whatever, can you go now?"

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Epel Felmier

Epel's first comment is that he would love to go on an outing.

He isn't embarrassed and doesn't think it's a "date" at first.

When [Name] clarifies that it is a date, Epel blushes.

"Ah? Well, if ya want to go somewhere with me, let's do it!"

Even though he feels a bit shy about it, he's still enthusiastic.

Depending on the outing, his energy may return during the date.

Epel thanks [Name] for giving him an out from Vil's makeup lessons. He didn't want to learn about blending properly today.

Mentioning his housewarden he realizes he'll need permission.

Epel asks [Name] if they will help him ask Rook about it.

Epel sighed softly as he came to the realization that as a first year, he would need permission to leave the campus for their date in the mountains. There were only two people to be asked: Housewarden Vil Schoenheit... Or Vice Housewarden Rook Hunt.

"Let's ask Rook-senpai," Epel told [Name], who nodded, "I don't think Vil-senpai would take kindly to me asking him to go into the mountains instead of learn a..."

Epel counted something on his fingers for a moment, hoping that [Name] couldn't see the redness on his cheeks that had yet to fade.

"A... 45-step makeup routine."

Epel looked disgusted at the prospect of the "lesson" and [Name] fought back the urge to laugh at the cute pout on the boy's face.

"That is a lot of steps," [Name] agreed, "Where is Rook-san?"

"Watching..." came Epel's answer, "He usually does the finding."

That was a true statement. Rook usually stumbled across Epel. The use of the phrase "stumble across" is largely for the sound of it as Rook always had eyes on Epel. It was an order from their Queen, after all. He couldn't allow himself to come across the lavender-haired boy by chance, Rook needed to keep a focus on his prey beloved underclassman.

"Hmm, so how do we find him?" [Name] asked which earned a sigh from Epel, "Epel?"

"ROOK-SENPAI! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Epel shouted into the front garden of Pomefiore.

From thin air, Rook Hunt appeared next to Epel and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin despite being the one who had called out to Rook. [Name] was so surprised their scream was silent as their hand flew to their chest in startlement.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Pommette!" Rook greeted with a grin.

"Hi..." Epel said after catching his breath, "Rook-senpai..."

"Did you need something?~" Rook asked, a knowing look crossing his features, "Or were you in need of our Queen, the most Beautiful Vil?"

"No, no! Just you is more than enough, I mean... I needed to ask you somethin' if you have time?" Epel said, the sentence only barely flowing properly.

He wanted to ask the question but his mind worked faster than his lips could parse. The resulting sentence left much to be desired.

"Oh?"

Rook awaited the question.

"I want to go into the mountains with [Name] this weekend," Epel said, "Do I have your, uhm, permission to do that?"

The blond seemed to ponder this for a moment as Epel stood there staring. It was all up to Rook if he was allowed to have his first relationship. He wanted to. Epel wanted this part of a school experience too...

But Vil might not approve, and Rook was loyal to him.

Epel glanced at [Name] for a moment.

Would they be angry if Rook made him say "no"?

"Ah, merveilleux!" Rook spoke, surprising both [Name] and Epel out of their personal thoughts, "Chase after love as I do, Epel!"

What?

Epel didn't know what that meant. Well, he thought it might be approval, but with Rook, one could never tell. So he asked.

"...Uhm. Is that a yes?"

"Oui."

Epel couldn't fight the urge and pumped his fist in the air before composing himself as quickly as he could. Vil didn't see that, Vil wouldn't know... Unless Rook told him. Worries for later.

"Well, I'll see you this weekend, [Name]," Epel told them with a laugh and a sweet smile, "Let's make this one count."

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Ortho Shroud

[Name] asks Ortho if he would like to see a movie.

Ortho says that he would love to go out with a friend.

He needs to ask his brother if he can go out with you.

[Name] makes a joke that if Ortho were older and perhaps not a robot/android it could be like a "date" for the two of them.

Ortho laughs and agrees that if it were Idia, it would be.

He knows about dates from Idia's visual novel collection and the internet (remember how he has access to the entire web?)

The two decide to prank Idia and tell him it IS a date.

Ortho argues that Idia needs to be surprised once in a while or he would just only play video games and hide in his dorm room.

Idia has a near heart attack over "Ortho's first date."

Ortho is unembarrassed by the question and excited to go!

He doesn't understand what might be embarrassing about an outing with the Prefect. It's not like it's a real date or anything.

Ortho laughed at [Name]'s baffled expression. They seemed shocked that he had agreed. Had they expected some other outcome?

"What? Did you expect me to say no?" the synthetic human asked them, coming just a bit closer, "I'll have you know I like spending time with you too! It's nice to have friends to go places with."

[Name] stuttered out stray sounds for a moment before they were able to phrase anything that was understandable language.

"I just thought you'd be busy since you're always with Idia-san."

"Hehe, my brother does keep me pretty busy," Ortho agreed before pausing, "Oh, that reminds me!"

[Name] looked at Ortho as he spoke.

"We need to ask my brother if I can go with you."

Ortho explained this as if it were obvious and [Name] supposed it was a natural source of events.

"Right now?"

In response to [Name]'s question, Ortho nodded.

"It would be best to do it sooner rather than later."

"Ah, alright!" [Name] replied.

They had expected Idia's consent would be somewhere in the steps it took to ask Ortho on an outing. Hopefully, this won't be too much of a hassle, they thought. The last thing they needed was more chaos.

"Follow me, [Full Name]-san!" Ortho cheered, floating off to guide [Name] from the hallway to the mirror that entered Ignihyde's dormitory.

It was a different kind of dorm, [Name] supposed. Ignihyde did not look anything like the other dorms. Though each dorm was unique, Ignihyde looked from a different time period with some of its elements. [Name] was used to it, though. This was not their first nor last time in this dormitory, however, it was their first time traveling to Idia and Ortho's bedroom.

Without knocking, Ortho opened the door. Before them was Idia Shroud dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while he seemed to be typing one of the longest comments [Name] had ever seen (though they couldn't make out what it said).

"Nii-san!" Ortho called out, making Idia prickle, "I need to ask you something!"

"WHAT?" came a louder-than-normal exclamation from the blue-haired boy, "I mean... Oh, Ortho... Yeah?"

"[Full Name]-san asked me to go to a movie with them this weekend. Am I allowed to go with them?" Ortho asked with a smile, speaking as though it was the most basic question in the world.

In reality, it was a fairly simple question, but not for Idia. The Ignihyde Housewarden froze, feeling the shock of the comment strike him to his core. Idia lunged forward and took Ortho by the shoulders.

"They asked you out on a date?" Idia asked him.

"They want to go to the movies—"

Ortho did not get to finish his sentence.

"A DATE, ORTHO?" Idia continued, louder, ignoring [Name]'s presence intentionally or not as he put Sebek's typical volume to shame.

"We're going to the movies—"

Ortho once again did not get to finish his sentence.

"This is just like the new anime I've been watching, but you're so... You're too young to be experiencing a shoujo anime!"

"Nii-san..." Ortho tried to reason with his older brother.

"Idia-san..." [Name]'s tone mirrored Ortho's.

"Fine, fine. I can't, like, be the opposition. That would be so uncool of me if I were to ruin the interaction between the ML and his love interest," Idia decided.

In the end, Ortho and [Name] never did get to clarify the categorization of their outing with Idia. They supposed he would just get to think whatever it was he thought until it was out of his system.

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Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek tries to refuse as he is "busy" with his work as a guard.

Malleus needs him, is his primary argument.

Sadly Malleus is quick to disprove this theory.

Sebek gawks as his master instructs him to participate in the human custom of a "date" to better his homeland.

Sebek is too offended at first to be embarrassed...

But then it sets in and his face is such a bright red it makes his hair look a bit silly with its green color.

He stutters and is unable to talk to [Name] for a minute or so.

He settles on nodding while this happens

In the end, he yells as per usual "OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."

Never a quiet moment with this one.

Sebek wasn't sure what to make of the words the human uttered. They wanted him to do what? That seemed highly inappropriate. Did he need to refuse this offer? He did think it was somewhat tempting, though. He did not hate this human. They were... not as irritating at the other humans at Night Raven College.

"Human," Sebek began, "I am afraid that I must refuse this invitation as I.. cannot forsake my role as a guard to Waka-sama."

He watched as their expression fell even if only slightly.

"Ah, alright then..." they managed to say before an awe-inspiring presence interrupted them.

"Sebek," Malleus spoke, his voice causing Sebek to straighten up more than he had been before the arrival of his master, "What is going on here, exactly?"

"W-Waka-sama," the halfling spoke, stuttering the first bit of his sentence from the surprise, "I was just alerting this human that I cannot leave your side for a... a 'date' of some kind."

Malleus raised an eyebrow.

So this was what it was about.

"And why can you not accompany this child of man?"

[Name] perked up at a mention of them as Sebek fumbled for an answer for the prince.

"Well, you see, I am your guard, after all..." he began, but Sebek soon fell silent under a piercing glare from Malleus.

"Sebek," the fae prince spoke in a low tone, "Will you do something for me?"

"Yes? Yes, of course, sir!"

"Guard this human on the date they have planned, this is imperative to Briar Valley."

Sebek's posture tensed even more at the order as he bowed to Malleus. [Name] stood there baffled by the sight of it all.

"AH! Of course, Waka-sama! Whatever you desire!"

Though Sebek did not notice it, [Name] could have sworn they saw Malleus smirk at the outcome. Had he done this with the intent to help them? They supposed they could always ask him about it later.

"So you can come with me?" [Name] asked Sebek a moment later.

"OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."

[Name] just laughed. The answer was... very Sebek.

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

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livelaughloveluffy · 3 days ago

Text

yearning - roronoa zoro

a/n: maybe it's because of my green hair, but zoro's been on the brain badddddd recently and i can't stop thinking about him and wanting him, so because i can't hold this man and tell him how much i love him, here's this fic instead 😭😭😭

nothing but fluff here 💗

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one sleepless night on the thousand sunny, you could not longer stand the tossing and turning in bed, and decided to step outside to get some fresh sea air, enjoy the night sky, and the sounds of the crashing waves.

however, the second you stepped outside of the girl's dorm, your eyes were drawn to the brooding green-haired swordsman with a bottle of sake in his hand, left alone on night watch.

zoro was a man of few words; one of extreme loyalty, strong morals, and utter devotion to those important to him. it was easy to be a bit intimidated by him, from his strength to his appearance, and he wasn't exactly the most approachable straw hat. but you couldn't help but feel drawn into him.

•♡•

while exploring an island, luffy had accidentally run into some marines on patrol, leading to an all out battle while you and the crew ran for your lives, yet again.

and this time particularly sucked. as you were cornered, outnumbered, and weak from battle injuries. and as a group of marines were getting ready to close in on you, a sudden flash of bright green, the sound of spilled blood, and men collapsing around you so fast you could barely process what was happening.

•♡•

your heart skipped a beat when you thought about how zoro put himself into harm's way without hesitation, disregarding his own injuries, to save you. and knowing that it wasn't just you he would do it for, how he would put his life on the line for any of the crew members, how he wouldn't care about any hurt or injury he had to endure as long as no one else felt that pain, because he could bear it instead.

the swordsman refused thanks for his help in the battle, and any attempt of it was instantly shut down with his gruff voice murmuring "it's nothing.."

so when he frowned at his empty bottle of sake, sighing at his sudden lack of alcohol for night watch, you found yourself sneaking into the kitchen, grabbing another bottle, and gently walking over to him. the soft whisper of a small request "can i join you for a glass?" slipped out of your mouth.

and as the one-eyed swordsman turned his head, looking at the sake in your hand, then giving you his iconic smirk before replying "sure, if you can keep up with me." your heart warmed, your body relaxed, and for a moment, everything else in the world was absolutely perfect.

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tags ♡: @3v37773 @dindjarins1ut @thepotatocatto @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99; want to join the taglist? click here!

a/n: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CRYING SCREAMING AND THROWING UP THAT I CAN'T HAVE THIS IRL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i had so much fun writing this so i hope yall love it as much as i do

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

#one piece #one piece fic #one piece fanfic #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #one piece roronoa zoro #op roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #op zoro #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fluff #fluff fic #via's fics

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drdemonprince · 1 day ago

Note

the asks and responses you've been posting about this ex-abuser friend and abuse as a skill set are so so interesting to me. it's more related to your responses, but I've been thinking for a long time about autistic forced passiveness teaching manipulation tactics. personally, since I've been trained out of advocating for what I want (or even noticing I want something), I've noticed I fall back on tactics anywhere from asking very leading questions to gradually pushing people's boundaries to get what I want, and a bunch of other behaviors that aren't supporting anyone. it doesn't help that a life of masking has given me a very analytical brain for social interactions. this is something I'm working on, obviously, but I imagine that there must be other autistic people who subconsciously find themselves unable to ask for what they want but also still...wanting things and having to figure out (unfortunate) ways to get them.

This is SUCH a great message, thank you for sending it. And yet another of the reasons why I hate the victim-perpetrator binary. Most Autistic people have been victims of immense boundary violation and disrespect. We're a highly marginalized, disenfranchised group! And we ALSO develop ineffective or manipulative coping strategies to deal with this reality a lot of the time, and have been taught to use them by our families and communities!

I have fallen back on many of the exact same strategies you've mentioned here, and more. I've taken on responsibility for other people's problems in a codependent way, hoping they'd magically notice all that I was doing for them and intuit what they should do for me; i've tried fixing other people's interpersonal problems for them and passed "benevolent" (I thought) gossip behind their backs; I've tried controlling people's behavior ""for their own good"" hoping that if they needed me, they'd love me; I've made passive aggressive remarks, aggressive remarks, and given people the cold shoulder. I've played "the game" with friends and partners and been artificially chilly so that I never seemed like I liked or needed them "too much", I've cried and beaten myself up when criticized in a way that has silenced or scared other people, I've directed my meltdown energy at the wrong people, and on and on.

And I've seen a LOT of Autistic people pull this kind of manipulative, incommunicative, triangulating, controlling shit, and even outright abuse one another with such tactics, and it's so tragic, and it cannot be easily explained by one person having an "abusive personality" or belonging to a "dangerous group" and another person not having those attributes. Shit is complex and contextual. And we use the tools we have been taught to use and seen treated as typical in our communities. That means we can also learn our way out of using them -- but that has to be a social process too. No one just becomes a better person through guilt or sheer force of will.

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cowboykento · 3 days ago

Note

Omg your cowboy!kento has me strung up by my ballsack in the best way possible :) If your request inbox is open….i’d love a drunken cowboy!kento being all lovey dovey and handsy with wifey while she helps him stumble through the house and help him into bed please and thank you your highness 🙏🏼🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

ahhh!!! you’re so funny anon that made me giggle, also i loooove this request so thank u very much :3 love u lots

(i did in fact keep this sfw but minors should not be interacting with this account in general bc it is mostly nsfw so if you see this, feel free to read and then carry on pls and thx)

cowboy!nanami doesn’t go out to drink very often—if he’s going to drink, he’d much rather have a beer or a glass of wine with you and either sit on the porch or the couch, cozied up together. but every once in a while his friends will convince him to make an appearance.

you’d had a part in convincing him, as well, practically pushing him out the door and insisting that he would have much more fun once he actually got there and spent some time with his friends.

“it’d be more fun if you came with me, darlin’,” he tries as he puts his coat on, truly jealous of you curled up in bed with your book.

“i’m busy here, kento,” you raise your book for emphasis. “besides, it’s been a while since you’ve seen gojo and shoko, you’ll have fun! or at least you can probably get some free drinks out of gojo.”

he grimaces but comes over to the edge of the bed to give you a kiss, “whatever you say, sweetheart. i’ll be back by midnight. love ya.”

“stay out as late as you want, handsome. i love you too. text or call if you need anything.”

he hums confirmation before leaving you to your cozy bed and book.

you get a few texts from your husband throughout the night, just small updates or gripes about gojo that made you giggle. after a while the texts start to die down, and you assume kento’s finally loosened up a bit and is having fun.

around midnight, ever true to his word, you get another text from kento: “home soonbaby, lpve you.”

you smile at your phone—happy that kento had clearly had a good night—and shut your book to wait by the front door. it’s only ten minutes later when you see headlights turn into the driveway. you step out to the porch as kento… and gojo walk towards you.

at first glance it looked like kento was helping gojo walk, and you sighed thinking about having to clean up the guest room on such short notice, but as they stepped into the porch light, it was evident that kento was much more drunk than gojo, and he was being helped in.

before you can ask how this had happened, kento seems to recognize that he was home, and that you were waiting for him.

he looks up at you from the bottom of the porch steps, the stars shining in his eyes, “mm, hey pretty girl,” he slurs a bit, making you giggle as you step down to help.

“guess it’s been longer than our cowboy thought since he’s been out,” gojo chimes in as you slide under kento’s arm. “nanamin’s turned into a lightweight it seems.”

kento shrugs gojo away from him, standing mostly on his own but swaying against you a few times.

“thank you gojo, i’ll take care of him from here.”

“finally, he’s been begging for you since his first drink,” gojo laughs, sending you both a quick wink before heading back to the car.

you shift your attention to kento, who’s looking at you with a soft smile on his lips. (he’s been staring at you this whole time).

“let’s go inside, handsome,” you tell him, pulling him forward with you.

as you take the first step, kento pulls you back to him quickly, “can you gimme a kiss first?”

you can’t help giggling at the small pout on his lips, but you quickly oblige him, standing on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck.

kento’s lips quickly shift into a soft smile as his thumb rubs the back of your hand. he lets you lead him inside easily now, following you almost without thinking about it as you take get him ready for bed.

you’re tempted to take a photo of him just to prove how cute he’s being—your fluffy pink headband holding his hair back while you wash his face. he’s coherent enough to help you as you take care of him, but the entire time he’s just looking at you with hearts in his eyes and the biggest smile on his lips.

you’re content with the quiet that’s settled between you, but every once in a while kento will break it to ask for another kiss. or sometimes he won’t even verbalize it, he’ll just give you a sleepy little pout and you know exactly what he means.

it’s so endearing to you to have your husband like this—he’s always sweet with you, but he’s just enthralled with you right now.

“can i have another kiss, baby?” he asks as you cuddle up next to him in bed.

you brush his pretty blonde hair out of his face and give his forehead a kiss, which makes him frown. before he can even complain, you give him another right on his lips, and you can feel him smile into it.

when you pull away there’s a look of bliss on kento’s face, “love you so much, darlin’. y’re the best thing t’ ever happen to me, y’know?”

you scratch your nails along the contours of his chest idly, “i love you too, handsome, to the moon and back.”

this time kento leans in to steal a quick kiss from you, “i love you more, pretty girl.”

normally you’d give in and playfully argue with him, but before the words escape your lips you notice that kento’s eyes have fallen shut, and his breathing has evened out.

you smile to yourself—kento may have gotten the last word, but you had the joy of spending the rest of your life with him, so really, what more could you ask for?

cowboy!kento nsfw masterlist || sfw masterlist

#cw alcohol #cowboy!kento 🤍#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk nanami kento #nanami kento #jjk nanami x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #jjk fluff

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 day ago

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Doctor, Doctor

Family is More Than Blood Masterlist

Summary: The tide is pulling you in and you are getting to weak to stop it.

Warnings: bad mental health, implied suicidal thoughts, implied past abuse, therapy, Sam is a good guy, non-sexual nudity.

Relationships: Carol x Reader, Yelena x Natasha x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.6k

The pacing was the only thing keeping you grounded. So you paced: 5 steps in one direction, then five steps in the other. Everything around you turned to white noise. Not that there were many people in the Avenger’s compound. The world seemed to be holding on by a thread as fires spread across the globe. The only people that could put out those fires were the Avengers. The team was spread worldwide, and since you weren’t part of the team, you couldn’t know the specifics. You had half the mind to hack into FRIDAY to get updated everyone. With the stress of not knowing how the team was doing, combined with the sleepless nights due to nightmares, you were on edge.

It seemed your mind and body had enough. You were at your wit’s end. Each night, your mind creates horrific scenarios of those you love. Your hands were covered with so much blood. Your mind was having a hard time separating your nightmare and reality.

Usually, you would ignore it, push through, and hope your mind would figure itself out. That was past you, and you were trying to be better. You wanted to enjoy the life you were living with the people in it, but you weren’t sure if you could do it on your own.

But admitting you needed help was a weakness, and a weakness meant death. Honestly, you were proud of yourself. The person you were now was leaps and bounds from who you were in the Red Room. Still, these habits were hard to break. His voice was still engraved in your head. “Hey,” you jumped at the sudden voice and the hand on your shoulder. You put your hands up, ready to fight. “Sorry,” it was Sam. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You seemed lost in your own head.”

“Yeah,” you put your hands down. “Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well.” His eyes scanned you over.

“Do you want to get out of the compound?”

“Please,” you said. If you weren’t so desperate for a distraction, you would have hated how weak you sounded. Sam smiled, and you followed him to the garage. The silence was comforting. Sam was special. His presence was calming, like a lifeboat in a raging storm at sea.

As he drove away from the compound past the small nearby town, he turned down a nonpaved road. You raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you taking me out here to kill me?” The man rolled his eyes.

“Please, like I could kill you,” he teased, sparing you a glance before focusing back on the road. “And if I managed to kill you. Natasha, Yelena, Alexei, Carol, and Melina would be on my ass. Nooo, thank you,” he paused. “I would never know peace.” You rolled your eyes.

Finally, he parked in a small lot. There was only one other car. You followed him out of the car and took a deep breath in. The air was crisp. It felt cleaner somehow. “Ready for a hike?”

“Are you going to be able to keep up?” The man glared at you.

“I don’t know why I try to be nice to you, Black Widows.” You chuckled.

“Come on, Sam,” you smiled. “I’m following your lead.” You followed him to the start of the trail. He filled the silence with stories from his childhood and his family in New Orleans. But most of the walk was spent in silence besides the crunch of the leaves and sticks at your feet. With each step you took, the weight on your shoulder seemed to disappear.

You smiled at the couple who walked past you on their way to the car. Soon enough, you reached the end of the trail and at the top of the mountain. The scenery around you felt otherworldly. The air was crisp and cool. In one direction, you could see the other mountains part of the range surrounded by green trees.

It was mid-afternoon, and the sky was a vast and brilliant blue. Birds were flying at your level. There was a beauty at the top that you forgot existed in this world. “So,” you looked at Sam. “Wanna talk about why you were pacing a hole in the ground?” You smiled and sat down on a rock.

“I don’t know, Sam,” you said. Some days, I feel like I have it together, like there isn’t this crushing weight, but recently, I feel like I can barely hold my head above the water. " You picked up a stone and threw it up and down. The tide keeps trying to drag me under, and I’m afraid. " You let the stone drop back to the ground. I might stop fighting so it can take me out to sea.”

There were so many dark thoughts that echoed inside your mind. On certain days, listening to those thoughts seemed easier than fighting them. “And I know,” you continued before Sam could speak. “That I have so many people on my side that support me and count on me, but I am so fucking tired,” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I just want it all to stop.” You admitted. “I mean, the world will keep spinning, right? Even if I’m no longer in it.”

You heard the man let out a low hiss. You weren’t suicidal, but it seemed easier. “Ours would stop,” Sam finally said. “Our world would stop spinning.” You reopened your eyes to see Sam walking towards the edge. “Have you ever been sky diving?” He looked over his shoulder as you shook your head. “I should take you,” he looked back at the view. “It is the most freeing and adrenaline-pumping thing a person could do. I love it.”

You stood up slowly and walked to stand next to the man. “I’ve been on a roller coaster, does that count?” He slapped you playfully. “Why did you ask me that?”

“In sky diving or even for us Fly Boys on the team, you have to have complete trust in the people that you don’t necessarily see,” you frowned, a little confused. You have to trust the pilot, trust the instructor leading the pilot, and trust the people who packed your gear that they did it correctly. Blind trust is terrifying,” he said and touched your shoulder.

Trust. So much of your trust has been broken. “Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you answered. The man smiled.

“Then trust me when I say this,” he took a few deep breaths. “I think you need to see a therapist, and I can find you a good one.”

“No,” you pushed his hand off your shoulder and headed back down the trail.

“Wait, ugh, hold on,” you heard him quicken his pace to catch up to you. “Look, I can’t imagine what that sick bastard put you and your sisters through, but I’ve lost someone because they couldn’t fight the tide. I will not stand by and watch it happen to you,” His confession stopped you and turned around to face him. “An old service buddy of mine,” he answered the question before you asked. “The weight of what happened over there got too much, and he let himself drown.” He took a few steps closer to you. “My mama said every soul that touches us leaves a mark - some as gentle whispers or bold strokes - but their imprints remain even when they’re gone. You’ve shaped our lives by being in it, and there is no going back.” You felt your chest tighten. Sighing, you placed your hands on your hips and looked at the ground.

“I trust you to find me a good one, Samuel,” the man laughed and put his arm around your shoulder.

“If I find you a good one, can I push you out of a plane?”

It was to disguise your trip to the city to check on a few Widows who had recently been exposed to the red dust. You felt bad about telling a white lie, so you visited a few of them; one was going to school, and another was starting a business. It made you happy that they were getting out of this life.

Now, you were sitting in Dr. Sabrina Hale’s lobby. Your leg was shaking, and you were gripping your jeans. You felt like you were going to be sick. Anxiety swirled in your stomach. Like Sam, you needed to believe in the blind trust of this stranger. “Hi,” you looked at the doctor. The woman was pite - her black hair was cut shoulder length, and her blue eyes seemed to have a caring presence. “My name is Sabrina. It is nice to meet a friend of Sam’s.” You introduced yourself and shook her hand. “Please come in.” You followed her into the office.

Her office was much bigger than you expected. It had a large window overlooking the city, and her wooden desk was in front of it. Next to it was a couch with a chair. In the corner, there was a small table with chairs covered with coloring pages and art supplies. The most striking detail about her office was how decorated it was. There were plants in every corner and pictures on the wall documenting her travels and her family.

“Sit where you are comfortable,” you sat on the couch. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she grabbed a travel mug from her desk and sat in the chair beside you.

“I will start off this session by saying that everything you say here is protected by doctor-patient confidentiality,” she said, crossing her left leg over her right.

“And if I don’t say anything?” Sabrina shrugged.

“Then we stare at each other for an hour in silence. Regardless, I still get paid,” you let out a dry laugh and stared out her window. “Sam told me you work with the Avengers, so I can guess whatever is haunting you isn’t pretty,” you scuffed, folded your hands, and rested your forearms on your thighs. “I tell my patients that you get out of therapy based on what you put into it. You need to want to be here. You want to get better.” Sighing, you stared at her.

She had a small smile on her face. Her eyes were so kind; they seemed to stare into your soul. “Do have any siblings? I have an older brother and a younger sister.” She was the middle child, and that made sense. Middle children were known to struggle with a sense of identity. Every piece of decoration showed you a piece of who Sabrina is. They also were known to rebel - her nose ring and sleeve of tattoos gave her away. But you snapped out of that. Sabrina was here to help you. She was not your target.

“Yeah, I have two younger sisters,” you smiled. “We aren’t related by blood.”

“Family is family,” she said. “Blood doesn’t matter.” You nodded and felt better that she had the same viewpoint as you. “Who annoys you the most?”

“Excuse me?” You were shocked by the question. Sabrina laughed.

“Come on. You are the older sister; your younger siblings must annoy you.” You chuckled and leaned back on the couch. She was right. It got on your nerves when Natasha left her pointee shoes lying around. Yelena had the annoying habit of putting her dirty laundry with yours so you would do it. You smiled again.

“They both do things that get on my nerves, but I love them.”

“I love mine too,” she said. “We got these tattoos together.” She turned her arm over to show you the artwork forever marked on her skin. It was like the work of three birds on a branch.

“Did it hurt?” You questioned. “The sleeve, I mean.” She watched as you looked over your sleeve.

“The first one did,” she answered. “After so many, you get numb to the pain.” Her blue eyes were watching you closely. Missing how your body tensed at the comment was not hard for her. “Are you numb to it all? After everything you’ve been through.”

You were unsure how to answer because you weren’t numb. You felt everything. Every hand that hurt you. Every bullet and knife slash that pierced your skin. That was why you wanted it all to stop. You shook your head. “I feel it all,” you whispered. “I wish I was numb to it all.”

“It’s good that you are feeling,” she told you. It means you can still be pulled back. You can be saved. The question is,” You watched her stand up and walk over to the mini-fridge. She grabbed out a small water bottle and walked back to you. “Do you want to be saved?” she asked while handing you the bottle.

She was extending an olive branch, waiting for you to take the first step—blind trust. Like sky diving, you needed to trust that everyone did their job to ensure you would survive. You wanted to be saved because there was so much life you wanted to see. You took the water bottle. Sabrina smiled and sat back down. “Good, the ball is in your court,” she said. “Lead me in whatever direction you want.”

“I’m going for a run,” you said while you entered the common area. Yelena watched you grab water from the fridge. “I’ll be back.”

“Do you want a running partner?” Natasha asked, but you quickly shook your head.

“It will be quick,” you smiled. “Figure out what you guys want to do for dinner.” You called out before putting on your headphones and left out the side door. Yelena frowned as you left. Twice a week, you leave the compound and go on a run. You went alone every time, no matter who asked you to join. Natasha walked over to the window, and Yelena got up from the couch to join her.

“She’s hiding something,” Natasha said. Yelena nodded in agreement.

“Do you think she’s cheating on Carol?”

“God no,” Natasha shot that idea down. “I just wish she trusted enough not to have to hide.” There was no way to hide the hurt in Natasha’s voice.

“She’ll come around,” Yelena smiled. “She always does.”

“Still hiding away, I see,” you rolled your eyes. You were video chatting with Sabrina for your weekly season. Your back rested on the tree trunk while you sat on the forest floor. There was a thin layer of sweat on your forehead from your run. “Why don’t you trust them with this?”

“I do trust them,” you defended. “I just-” you trailed off. It was one of the annoying things about Sabrina. She was patient - too patient for your fucked up mind. “I don’t want to seem weak.”

“Admitting you need someone to help you through your mind does not make you weak,” she told you. “I think it makes a person very strong.” You sighed and looked past your phone to the wilderness around you. “Trust is a thread that holds relationships together,” you looked back at Sabrina. The doctor was drawing in her sketchbook. It was something she always did during your sessions. You never asked what she was drawing, and she never showed it to you. She put the sketchbook down when she saw that you were looking at her. “When it frays, even those who care the most are left powerless to help. Doubting those who care for you builds walls, not of protection, and in the end, loneliness becomes your only certainty.”

“What are you getting at Hall?” You asked. The doctor was spinning a pencil in her hand.

“You are at a standstill,” she said. “You will not continue to heal unless you trust them with this side of you. But also trust yourself.”

“I do trust myself,” she looked at you like she did not believe you. The only way to survive in this world was to trust yourself.

“To an extent, yes, you had to trust yourself because who else would you trust? But I want you to trust yourself to be vulnerable and to feel weakness. You do not have to be the strong one all the time.”

Natasha’s door was open when you knocked on it. Yelena was on her bed while they were sharpening some of their knives. “Are you going to throw one of those at me?”

“Do you deserve to have a knife thrown at you?” Natasha questioned. You shrugged.

“Depends on who you ask,” you smiled and walked into her room. You found some space on her bed and sat down. Yelena handed you a knife and a sharpening tool.

The repetitive action of sharpening a blade was calming. It was nice to spend time with them. “Do you have something on your mind, sestra?” Yelena asked. You smiled and looked over the knife. Flipping it over, you stared at your reflection.

“Sam helped me find a therapist,” you decided to rip off the band-aid. “I’ve been seeing her for a few weeks now.”

“That’s great,” Yelena said. “I’m so proud of you.” You looked down, embarrassed by the praise.

“Why did you wait this long to tell us?” Natasha asked. You sighed and, when you were done, handed the knife to Yelena.

“Million-dollar question, right?” Natasha chuckled. “I guess I didn’t want to seem weak to you guys. Hell, not even Carol knows.” You picked up another knife to begin the process again. “I trust the two of you with my life,” you began. “But I’ve learned that I don’t trust myself to be vulnerable or weak. If I’m not the strong one, then what is my role? What is my purpose.” Natasha took your hand to stop you from sharpening the knife.

“You just have to be our sister,” she said. “That’s all we want.” You smiled.

“Sometimes I wish life was kinder to us,” you admitted. “We were far too young to be subjected to the darkness.”

“We got each other out of it,” Yelena smiled.

“The best thing to come out of the Red Room,” you joked.

You stayed awake until Carol returned from space. “Jesus,” she jumped when she opened the door to her room. “You scared the shit out of me.” You giggled and stood up from her bed.

“Sorry,” you smiled and closed the distance. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, consider me surprised,” she said, wrapping one arm around your waist while closing the door with the other. She pulled you flushed to her chest. “Hi baby,” you felt the words rumble from her chest. I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you kissed her cheek. “How was space?”

“Good,” she sighed. “Tiring, but I kicked ass and looked good while doing it.” You shook your head with a laugh.

“You always look good,” she covered her mouth as she yawned. “Come on, my captain, let’s get you to bed.” Carol shook her head.

“Shower with me first, then bed,” she kissed you softly. “I promise to behave.”

That was hard to believe, but you followed her to the bathroom. This type of intimacy and trust was new to you. Showering with someone was never slow and sweet. It was usually against your will, dirty, and fast. Carol taught you differently.

You helped Carol out of her tactical suit and kissed the new bruises that decorated her skin. While the water was warming up, she helped you out of your sleeping clothes. You stood in front of her—naked like the day you were born. It took time for you to be like this with her. The dark thoughts that invaded your mind and the scars that covered your skin made you believe you were undeserving of this soft trust.

You helped Carol out of her tactical suit and kissed the new bruises that decorated her skin. While the water was warming up, she helped you out of your sleeping clothes. You stood in front of her - naked like the day you were born. It took time for you to be like this with her. The dark thoughts that invaded your mind and the scars that covered your skin made you believe you were undeserving of this soft trust.

“Krasivyy (beautiful),” Carol mumbled. The words she knew in Russian were few, but she knew the ones that made you smile.

“No funny business,” you warned, pulling the Avenger into the water. She insisted on washing your hair first. The way her fingers massaged into your scalp made your body feel boneless. Once your hair and body were clean, you returned to the favor.

Carol hummed. “You have magic fingers, baby girl.” You chuckled and kissed her shoulder.

Once the soap washed off Carol’s body, you turned off the water and dried yourself off. You took some of Carol’s clothes to change into and climbed into bed. Instantly, Carol pulled you into her arms. Like with your sisters, you decided to rip the band-aid off. “I’m seeing a therapist,” you said. Sam found me one based in the city.” She put her finger underneath your chin and forced you to look at her.

“Do you like her?” You nodded. You liked Sabrina. She was annoying and got underneath your skin, but she forced you to face the hard parts of your psyche. “Proud of you, baby,” she kissed your forehead and hugged you tighter. Her fingers ran through your hair, bringing you closer and closer to sleep.

Carol was proud of you, as were Natasha and Yelena. It felt good to hear. “I love you,” you mumbled against Carol’s chest. The tide was all-consuming. You felt breathless and weak, but you were working on fighting the waves. You were proud of yourself, too.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader

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daniiiboo · 2 days ago

Text

fearless- jh86

summary- moments in the song fearless that i thought was jack core

dani's thoughts- yay ! another fic ! and im actually rlly happy w this one !!!

warnings- nu uh nope! only cuteness

word count- 2254

You walk me to the car And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there In the middle of the parking lot

The game had just wrapped up, and the arena buzzed with the energy of victory. Jack had been on fire tonight, his usual flashes of brilliance lighting up the ice: his speed, his vision, the less-than way he threaded passes, all were reasons you loved watching him play. But tonight, something felt even more electric, even though the game had ended.

The two of you made our way through the quieting corridors of the arena, past the excited chatter of teammates and staff, heading toward the exit. The night air was cool against your skin as you and Jack stepped outside into the parking lot, the sounds of the city filling the silence between the two of you.

"You were amazing out there," you said, nudging Jack lightly with your shoulder.

He grinned at you, the glint in his eyes.

"Thanks. We got the win, that's what matters, right?"

"Of course," you said, smiling up at him. "But that assist in the third period? That was next level."

Jack's grin widened as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

"You know I play better when you're watching," he teased. His voice was light, but you could make out the affection in his eyes.

You both had reached his car, but just before he turned the door open, Jack had turned and faced your direction. For some seconds, he was staring, like holding onto the quiet of that particular moment. The low hum of the city seemed very far, like the world had come down to just the two of you.

"Hey," he said softly, taking my hand, pulling you gently toward him. "I wanna ask you something."

You tilt your head, intrigued by the way his voice softened, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more sincere.

"Anything," you replied, your heart skipped a beat.

"You walk me to the car," he started off, a smile pulling at his lips, "and you know I wanna ask you to dance right here. In the middle of the parking lot."

You blinked, not quite believing what you were hearing. But then his eyes flashed with that mischievous glint, and you just couldn't help it.

"You want to dance? Here? Now?"

Jack grinned, all charm. "Yeah. Out here. No music, just us."

You couldn't help but smile. This was so Jack: spontaneous, a little bit crazy, and completely endearing. But you didn't hesitate. Because right then and there, you knew it didn't matter where the two of guys were, whether a band was playing or a big crowd was watching, it was just him and you, and that was enough.

"Alright, let's do it," you said, pulling him toward the center of the empty parking lot.

The cool night air brushed against your cheeks as you and Jack stood there, the stars overhead sparkling like diamonds in the vastness of the sky. Jack took your hand, his fingers warm against yours, and he pulled you close.

"See? It's perfect," he murmured.

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

He just shrugged, his grin never faltering.

"Crazy for you."

And then, without any music to lead the two of you, you guys started swaying. There was nothing to be heard except the soft rustling of the wind and the far-off buzz of the traffic. Your feet moved slowly without much rhythm, but it didn't matter. The two of you were in our own world, the noise of everything else falling away.

His hand was at the small of your back, tugging you closer while your arms wrapped around his neck. You felt the warmth emanating from his body, the steady beat of his heart against your chest, and in that single moment, it felt as though nothing else in the world could be more perfect.

"You know," he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely above a whisper, "this is probably one of the best parts of the night."

You smiled, your cheek resting against his shoulder. "I couldn't agree more."

You danced like that for hours, it felt like, the world silent around you except the sound of breathing, the rhythm of your feet upon the pavement. There were no distractions, no obligations, just the two of you, caught in this small, intimate moment.

At some point, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His face was soft, his smile genuine, and the way he looked at you made everything else seem irrelevant.

"You know," you said, a teasing note in your voice, "we should probably get in the car before people start wondering why we're having a private dance party in the parking lot."

Jack's eyes danced with mischief.

"Let them wonder. This is our moment."

Run your hands through your hair Absent mindedly makin' me want you

You watched Jack from the passenger seat as he took the roads, his eyes on the streets ahead, hands clasped on the wheel with that natural ease that always made him look so confident. Jack was always composed under pressure, whether it was on the ice or moments like these; it was one of the things you loved most about him.

As the night settled into a peaceful rhythm, you found myself getting lost in the way the light of the streetlamps danced across his face, casting shadows that so accentuated his features that he could almost have been the star of a movie scene. Then, without warning, he did it.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, pushing strands back, and it was as if the world around the two of you froze. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped at the simple, absent-minded gesture. His hand ruffled through his messy brown hair as if he didn't even realize what he was doing. But for you? Impossible to ignore.

It was such a small movement, yet it swallowed you in a wave of heat and made you want him more than you already did. He had done something so casual, not even thinking about it, and the surge of longing felt foreign.

"You make it hard to concentrate," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper.

At first, Jack didn't seem to hear you; his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, but then you saw those lips curve into that playful smile, the one which always made your knees go weak. He glanced over at you for a second, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Distracted already?"

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"Just… just run your hand through your hair again."

Jack's eyebrow rose in obvious amusement.

"What, this thing?" He lifted his hand and ran it through his hair again, this time slower, more deliberate.

You couldn't but laugh lightly, but inside, you were already a mess. Just the way he did it, effortless, natural. The way his fingers slid through his hair so absent-mindedly, the motion almost hypnotic, making you want him even more.

"You're impossible," you muttered, your voice playful, but full of undeniable tension.

He grinned, his eyes still on the road, yet the corners of his mouth curled upward in that familiar, irresistible way.

"You love it," he said, as if it were some sort of fact.

You leaned back against the seat, feeling the warm night air through the slightly cracked window, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. The streetlights blurred as you drove further into the quiet suburbs, but all you could focus on was Jack, his smile, the way he looked when he was so comfortable with you, the way his presence felt like home.

"Do you know what you do to me?" you asked lowly, your voice barely a whisper.

He looked at you again and softened.

"What do I do?"

You turned to him, your heart thudding in your chest.

"You just. you're so effortlessly you, and everything-every little thing-you do drives me crazy. You make me want you so much without even trying."

Jack didn't say anything for a minute, and the silence between the two of you stretched out just a bit longer than usual. Then he reached over, his hand finding yours, his fingers gently wrapping around it.

"You don't know how much I love hearing that," he said softly, his voice serious but warm.

You squeezed his hand; the touch from him was like an anchor- real. There was no need for great gestures, sweeping declarations, and quiet moments like these, where it was just the two of you and nothing outside existed.

As Jack turned onto your street and pulled into the driveway, he didn't immediately turn off the car. Instead, he looked over at you, his eyes soft, searching.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, his voice low almost to a murmur.

You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"You," you said simply, your voice soft but filled with all you felt at that moment.

And I don't know why But with you I'd dance in a storm In my best dress

It was one of those nights that have everything go just right-the kind that make you smile for no particular reason whatsoever. You and he had spent the evening enjoying each other's company, dinner at that little place the two of you loved, having laughed over dessert, talking about anything and everything. It wasn't anything extravagant, but that's what made it feel so special. It was just the pair of you, lost in your own little world.

As you guys left the restaurant and out into the cool night, the weather seemed to shift. The air had been crisp when you arrived, but now standing in the parking lot, the clouds overhead grew darker and the wind started to pick up. You could feel the first drops of rain hit your skin-light at first, but quickly turning into a steady downpour.

Jack didn't, though. His hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours as he led you toward the car.

"Looks like we're going to get soaked," he said with a grin, his voice light teasing.

"I don't mind," you replied, your smile matching his. "I think it's kind of perfect."

He glanced at you, a little surprised by your reply, but there was something in your voice that seemed to spark something in him. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand as he opened the car door for you.

But no sooner were you getting into the passenger seat than you felt the sudden urge to do some crazy thing. The rain was coming down in sheets now, and you couldn't help but think of all those times you dreamed about dancing in a storm. Why not now? Why not tonight?

Before Jack could even sit down in the driver's seat, you threw open the passenger door and stepped back out into the rain, feeling its cool water rush over you. The sound of the storm was loud, thunder rumbling in the distance, but all you could hear was the beat of your heart racing in your chest.

You twirled to face him, a wild grin spreading across your face. "Come on," you hollered over the storm. "Let's dance!

Jack blinked in surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he looked from you to the pouring rain. He shook his head, but his smile never faltered. He closed the car door and jogged toward you, his hands already reaching for yours as the two of you met in the middle of the parking lot.

And without another word, you danced. The rain came down on you guys, soaking through your clothes in seconds, but it didn't matter. The world around you could have been falling apart, and you wouldn't have noticed. Jack spun you around, wet hair flying around your face, and you laughed, the sound mingling with the rumble of thunder.

At that moment, there were only the two of you, lost in the storming chaos.

You stepped back and looked up at him, his face lit by the occasional flash of lightning. He, too, was laughing, his brown hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I don't know why," you said, panting from the dance, "but with you, I'd dance in a storm, in my best dress."

Jack's smile softened as his gaze locked with yours, holding you close against him.

"You make everything perfect, even the storm."

You grinned, feeling the rain running down your skin, free, alive, the world yours for the taking.

"You know," you said, "I think I'd do this every night if I could."

Jack pulled you close against him, his arms wrapping around you, holding tight as the storm raged around the two of you. He rested his forehead against yours, his voice a quiet murmur as he said, "I'd dance in any storm, any time, as long as it's with you."

And in that moment, it didn't matter that you were soaked to the bone, or that the storm wasn't showing any signs of stopping. It didn't matter, because it was with him. And that was all that mattered.

You guys stood there, swaying together in the rain, dancing under the storm that couldn't touch the two of you, knowing that you had everything you needed in that moment.

#dani writes ᡣ𐭩 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #new jersey devils x reader

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seancekitsch · 3 days ago

Text

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Five

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My nearly found Unfamiliar,

I feel I should be offended by this hasty scrawl of a message, yet I am just happy to hold your parchment once more. If your letter shall be brief, mine will be too. Even after we meet, I think I might like to keep these letters going. They are invigorating in ways I never expected. I am confident I will find you, as even if my guesses are incorrect I plan on not giving up until I find you and dance an almain with you.

You are devious and wicked in the ways that you tease me! But I am smart, I will find you. I will look for rubies and I will speak our word and then… It is up to you. I trust that even finding you will make me the happiest man in the seven kingdoms, and I will put the future in your hands.

Soon Yours,

Your Unfamiliar

Excitement surges through you as you hold the letter to you, girlish and giddy. Each time you read the note it feels as if fate is knocking at your chamber doors instead of the serving girls or Alicent calling upon you. He feels so close, so near. You never took yourself for such a sentimental woman, but this letter gets placed with all the others, in a beautifully embossed portfolio for parchment. You agree with his letter, that you want to keep this practice going even after you find one another. It will be a lovely day when you can fill this portfolio, or years down the line you can read them from the beginning. You can imagine laughing with him about your eagerness to meet and the way the two of you were bold and promiscuous. You picture yourself, wrinkled smile in the candlelight as you point out how you were thinking during these letters, his auburn hair turning grey and -

No! Not auburn. You shudder as you banish the thought from your head. Thats more than enough fantasy for today.

You wind the leather strap around the button fastening closed the portfolio and set it aside, knowing there is much to plan.

You fuss in front of the looking glass, certain the hour was growing short and you would be sent for soon for the feast. Your hair had been up, to the side, plaited, and pinned. You’ve decided to settle on pulling it off of your face, letting the rest of it cascade down with little adornment besides a comb dazzled with rubies. That was the pin in all of this. Dress color did not matter, though you wore a deep wine red dress that made your body look divine, as long as rubies accompanied you. Rubies were how your Unfamiliar would know you, rubies were the color of passion. If blue for loyalty was to be making trend in the court, you shall buck the system with your own symbolic color.

This is the best it will get, you think, not unconvinced of your looks but moreso knowing that fiddling with it any further will make ruin of it.

“I should have expected you would be my seat mate,” Gwayne quips, wine goblet already in hand and seated at the long table upon the newly dubbed “Green Council” side. You suppose court may only get uglier from here, and Alicent’s letter writing plan was a beacon in the dark much like the light of the high tower itself.

“We are the queen’s favorite people,” you reply, smoothing and adjusting the skirts of your dress to sit comfortably.

“Although we may be each other’s least favorite,” he jokes, and you raise your own wine goblet to clink your rim against his.

“I will agree to that.”

“You look lovely.”

“I- Thank you, Ser Gwayne.”

He drinks from his goblet and turns his attention back to the festivities, the great hall already buzzing with people talking and enjoying their food as the royal family and their parties all enter. Sure enough, you see more couples now than you had at the last feast, a testament to letter writings success. The troupe in the corner plays quietly, calm music that does not dare drown out the droning of conversation.

“Are you going to miss him?” Gwayne speaks up.

“Who?”

“Daeron.”

“Oh my littlest dragon!” you exclaim, “Yes I suppose I’ll miss him quite terribly.”

You lean over to him slightly.

“Do not tell the other little princelings or princess, but my wish was to spoil Daeron rotten.”

Gwayne chuckles at that. The eldest of the royal children have their own table, but Daeron is still at Alicent’s side. The elder three, as you can already see, are causing a ruckus. With Aegon ranting about…. something, Helaena holding up… another something you don’t wish to identify, and Aemond glaring up at the adult’s table.

“Your secret is safe with me,” He says, adding, “But if you wish to send him letters with his mother’s I will read them all the same.”

“You are being suspiciously kind to me, Ser Gwayne.”

The knight only shrugs.

“Tis a feast that followed a tourney. I am in good spirits.”

“Perhaps if you continue being so kind, I will greet you with less venom the next time you arrive.”

“Oh come now, My Lady, venom is our thing. Do not go soft on me.”

You laugh, genuinely, and from the corner of your eye you can see Alicent down the other side of the table looking at you as if you’ve lost your mind.

The rest of dinner is hardly touched, instead conversation and wine flow more freely, though jabs are still to be had.

“Would you care to dance?” Gwayne asks as he pushes his chair away from the large table.

Oddly, you do not find yourself balking at the idea. Gwayne has been kind, enjoyable even tonight so far. What is one dance? I could not hurt as a way to get yourself onto the dance floor. You do have an Almain tonight you do not want to miss.

“I do like dancing,” you admit as you hold out your hand for him. Gwayne takes your hand gently and guides you to stand. The song playing is slow, a little intimate for this point in the night, but you trust the royal musicians, they understand the mood of the room. Gwayne spins you the moment your feet touch the dance floor, a flourishing display of your skirts to show you off to the entire room before he brings you into his hold. One warm hand finds its way to your bodice, and the other stays clasped to yours. He moves with grace, each step carefully rehearsed yet feeling earnest and natural.

“How are you enjoying the evening?” he asks, smiling easily as his eyes find yours.

“It’s lovely! A blessing on this new little princeling, and a fun night for people of little consequence such as ourselves,” you exclaim, your free hand finding his shoulder, fingertips brushing the velvet of his tunic. It’s fitting, you think, for Gwayne to wear rich velvets despite being a knight. He is a son of maybe the richest house in all the kingdoms besides the crown itself, and much more educated and trained than your average knight even for a noble house. It suits him as a fabric, rich and bold. But most importantly, it is soft and gentle under your hands.

“I must agree with you, I find myself having more fun than I’ve had in ages,” Gwyane says, and punctuates it with another twirl around. He’s bringing you towards the center of the dance floor, where already most of the court have congregated. Skirts flutter and men’s chains of silver and gold glitter in the light.

The dance is quick, a swirling and complicated thing, and Gwayne guides you through it near perfectly.

And then the dance ends with the song, and Gwayne’s hold on you loosens but does not completely leave you. Something odd hangs in the air, like a word unspoken or a shift of the weather. You find yourself not wanting to stray far from Gwayne Hightower.

“Another dance?” you ask.

“And here I thought you could not stand me.”

“I can overlook that because you are better at dancing than I expected.”

“As you wish, My Lady.”

And with that he pulls you closer in his grasp again, and as the next song begins he pulls you along the floor.

“How are your letters going? I would have thought you would have had your lady here and courting by now,” you bring up the letters, the only topic thats ever burning on your mind, yet Gwayne feels like the one person it is not a secret to discuss with.

“It troubles me!” he admits, a laugh coming freely as he speaks, “I wish to know her! I wish to marry her. She is so incredible, so smart and full of humor. I know that I will be smitten when I see her. If she were to reject me, I would be bereft.”

His words are nothing short of a serious declaration of his intentions. You must admit, it’s moving to see Gwayne Hightower this passionate. It’s a level of sincerity and passion you did not expect him to have outside of a training yard or tourney.

“Then I do hope she is just as smitten,” your lips turn upwards, but not in a smirk like it usually is around Gwayne, “For I fear for what would happen if you were in a sour mood.”

Gwayne laughs, a loud and boisterous sound that makes little lines crinkle at the sides of his eyes and make each of his teeth glimmer under the light of the chandeliers.

“And you?” he asks, something teasing (though toothy, not biting) in his smile, “What are your true feelings on this letter business, now that you know mine?”

“I must admit, your sister’s little scheme with these letters is maddening,” you smile as you say it, “I mean, I’m even wearing every ruby I own because a week ago a promised a man I don’t even know that I would give him some kind of sign!”

Your voice is more exasperated than you intend for it to sound, the wine from dinner easing you. Your hand on Gwayne’s shoulder flexes and then relaxes again, not quite a squeeze, but not nothing. His velvet tunic is soft under your fingertips, lovely and lush. His eyes seem to widen at your admission, and the expression confuses you. It would be odd for him to be surprised at this point, as he knows for weeks this has troubled you. Your hand slips from his shoulder as you step back, your arm making a sweeping motion as you dip backward before coming back to his arms.

“I- I am surprised you have not found him yet,” he stutters, an unusual thing for Gwayne, usually so sure and even tempered. To hear him stutter is to watch him be knocked in a tilt; concerning and betraying of something wrong beneath the surface. It unnerves you.

“And why is that, Ser Gwayne?” The way you speak is teasing, playfully rather than full of barbs. He sighs deeply, and looks at you. Really looks at you. Not his teasing glances that irk you, not his hungered gaze upon your legs, not a scowl. Gwayne looks upon you as if it is your first meeting, searching your face for signs of something. Perhaps he is, perhaps this is Gwayne seeing you for more than a shrill shrew at his sister’s side. Maybe this is him seeing you as something other than a game, a skirt to tease and bother at any time. Even more, maybe this means that he would welcome you at Oldtown if you were to visit Daeron.

“I would think someone as headstrong and intelligent as you would have found your writer by now,” Gwayne explains, a smile returning to his face, “I know you would not give up until you were having clandestine rendezvous in scarce used parts of the Keep.”

You blink. No, certainly you didn’t hear him correctly? The music is much too loud.

“What was that, you said?”

Gwayne falters as your smile fades.

“That- That you would be having clandestine rendezvous with your writer?”

“You,” the word escapes you, “Unfamiliar.”

Gwayne’s lips tug upward at the corner, a weaker smile this time.

Your Unfamiliar, your traveled unfamiliar, your dearest unfamiliar, your now found unfamiliar. It cannot be. Gwayne, the one with the pen. Gwayne, who boasts of his exploits with women; Gwayne, your champion who weaved you a crown; Gwayne, who angers you to the point of screaming. No, it could not be him that writes you in promise of travel, a life of adventure. He cannot be the one who writes you so genuinely, so freely and so sensitively. It is a trick, you think, he must be tricking you. Some form of humiliation on your end through this scheme.

Your hands slip from him, and infuriatingly chaste he lets you step away.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head as if that will erase the knowledge, “Not you.”

“Why not me?” he asks, and something heavy settles in your chest.

“You mock me! Have you known the whole time?” you scoff, stepping back even further, “Love and Beauty? Ha!”

Your lips tighten into a quivering line, threatening to betray you further.

“I only discovered you tonight,” he says.

“I do not believe you,” you tell him, and you turn on your heel. Luckily, there is a corridor at the wall near the edge of the dance floor, and with haste you will be back in your chambers and you may forget all of this.

“Wait! Must you go?” Gwayne calls, loud enough to hear you. Heads turn, and your face burns even more. You turn back around to see him, to see a knight with his face creased with an emotion you do not recognize.

“I cannot-“ you shake your head, “It cannot be you.”

With that, you turn, and run. Once again, you put distance between yourself and Gwayne Hightower. It cannot be him. He cannot be the one who angers you daily, yet writes you so sweetly with honeyed words. Gwayne Hightower cannot be your Unfamiliar.

You do not stop until you reach your chambers, slamming the door shut behind you. You all but tear off your rubies, your pretty dress, feeling tainted now. Once again, you have dressed for nothing. Once you are bare you throw yourself onto you bed, a dreamless sleep

His most recent letter will go without response.

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne x reader

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theesteppenwolf · 2 days ago

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Some thoughts on Inner Demons

So i have been thinking about this and i do actually like the idea that Lucanis can't have Rook exist in his mind prison because it fucks up his entire inner narrative of basically just self flagellation. "If rook exists then at some point i have to get out" so just delete rook from the scenario. I think that's really good.

However, i think it would've been better if a part of Lucanis actually was trying to get out, at least involuntarily, and that Rook was the personification of that idea, constantly trying to break himself out but ultimately failing. So ''Rook'' exists somewhere in there but is heavily suppressed. That's why Spite seeks real life Rook out. Not to mention that even if not romanced Rook is pretty much the closest person he has at that point, his only other true friend he's had beside Illario so it makes even more sense for them to be this comforting idea he just can't accept fully.

So you see glimpses of Rook, the sound of their voice, or maybe more notes about them, especially if you are romancing him it seems like a big waste of an opportunity to not utilize Rook for a bigger showing of his inner struggle and fear to try and live some kind of life.

The Neve thing is a bit weird when romancing him, i do understand this complaint and the way Spite phrases it does come off as romantic interest specific to her. I think Neve should absolutely stay as both her and Lucanis seem like good friends regardless of romance but it would've been been better (if the player is romancing Lucanis) for Neve to maybe use Lucanis' feelings for Rook against them here. Implying guilt about Rook, leading them on etc. rather than make it specifically about Neve.

There are plenty of little things like this that would make the quest a bit more impactful overall because this is a pretty short quest for something that is essentially meant to be a psychological deep dive into Lucanis. Just more notes and those reworked Neve lines would make it more way more immersive to the player.

In my opinion this should've been a way bigger and more important part of his personal quest, i think they should've really leaned into the whole ''fighting to get him out of his own head'' idea. Adding things like Lucanis' actual memories of Caterina as the abuser she was and moments of genuine brotherly love Lucanis has for Illario. It would've also made up for the fact that you don't learn anything very personal about him the entire game.

Listen, I have whole rewrites to how his personal quest should've gone, it's really my roman empire at this point. This quest is such a good way for Rook to get real vulnerability from him that wouldn't've shown up in real life due to his introverted and closed off nature.

Again my conclusion of Lucanis being a very scraped up character continues as i find my ideas to be pretty easy to come up with implementations for the kind of thing they are trying to pull of in this specific mission.

But oh well, so it goes. Kind of got rambly for a minute there, thank you kindly for reading :P

#if people are interested i might share more rewrites for his story and mission because oh boy are there a decent amount of them #there are a lot of ways to make his arc more fulfilling by just getting to have more simple convos with him #the reason he falls flat too many times is that you don't have enough scenes like you have with davrin where you just talk #lucanis tag #dragon age rambles #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #datv #datv spoilers #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #lucanis

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marta-bee · 2 days ago

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I'm fascinated by this.

First, thank you thank you THANK YOU for talking seriously but generously about book!Denethor and book!Faramir's relationship in a way that doesn't treat him like an outright villain. I'm a huge Denethor fan (in a way that hopefully revels in his moral complexity/complicity rather than whitewashing it, because where's the fun otherwise?), and we really need more of that in fandom.

I'm not sure I'd call Faramir cruel, but he's definitely living in an imperfect world where he probably understands he can't save everyone, even as he's probably better able to do that than Boromir just because he's working with a much smaller group. But he's harsh when he's questioning Gollum. He's not even overly quick to reassure Frodo and Sam that they're safe and he believes them, after the drumhead trial-type interrogation before they all decamp to Henneth Annun. And he takes part in several really bloody battles and he's still prepared to lead men into almost certain defeat to defend the various outposts around Minas Tirith. I see him making lots of hard decisions in the books.

(It's been years since I've actually reread the books, and it's also late so if I'm misremember or misrepresenting anything, please take it as a good-faith misremembering.)

But I do think --fascinatingly-- he sees an even bigger picture than Denethor does. That's the tragedy of Denethor, that he sees the whole struggle in terms of Gondor vs. Mordor. I was going to say book!Faramir isn't this overly moralistic person, it's more that he's concerned with the fate of everyone, coupled with having the wisdom to see what his father would prefer he'd do wouldn't actually work. I'm thinking of the temptation to bring the Ring back to Minas Tirith here especially. If he thought it would actually bring the goal he's working for, I'm not sure he wouldn't have done it.

But he's wise enough to know it would destroy the Gondor he loves, and broad-thinking enough to know saving Gondor isn't enough. And maybe that is goodness in the Arda-verse or close to it: not some idealistic clinging to principle totally divorced from the practical consequences of how you act, but thinking more universally and seeing more clearly.

Or put another way:

I don't know. It's a fascinating thought, and one I'll probably be turning over in my mind for the next few days.

book!denethor and faramir are like

"i need you to make the hard decisions now that your brother is gone, because you are the one that will be my heir. i need you to weigh the good of many and the good of few. and i need you to do it independently for when i am gone as well."

and

"i refuse to be anything but gentle. i refuse to let the concept of a greater good justify cruelty. i love you. and im sorry to be a disappointment."

#tolkien #lord of the rings #denethor #faramir #lord of the rings meta #marta blathers

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yelenasdiary · 20 hours ago

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Hello…I didn’t expect to make this request, but I didn’t know who else to turn to, and you’re the most active writer I’ve followed for so long that is still around. (And I’m happy for that, sincerely)

Well, before I request something, let me explain why. I…I’m saying goodbye. (Not that way, don’t worry) I’m saying goodbye…to the fandom…specifically, to reading Natasha x reader fics. I tried for a while to hope for fics where Reader was more of the knight in shining armor, masc presenting woman, or the top in the relationship, but…well, that didn’t happen much. And I’m not bashing on anyone for writing reader as more of the opposite. Not at all, everyone is entitled to write how they want to write….but I can’t just keep coming here and continue to see it be the same troupe. And no matter how much I request for one (and when requests are asked and open) it never happens, and instead it’s something else I didn’t request. So…I think it’s best for me to bid farewell. I cant force writers to write what I want, that’s not how it works. It’s a dick move

Here’s what I want to ask…for my final Natasha x reader fic request:

Reader is a soldier for the United States Air Force. Natasha has been busy as an Avenger. Reader, on leave, tried to spend time with Natasha but was always met with rain checks. On top of that, Natasha has always treated reader as the frail, need to protect, girlfriend, and reader always made it clear she wasn’t much for the pillow process type.

Anyways, reader decides to re-enlist for another deployment and begin a new life, maybe somewhere in Germany I don’t know. But, as she’s packing to leave is when Natasha FINALLY decides to give her the time of day….but it’s too late.

Reader sits Natasha down and says along the lines this, “I’m not the person you want…and we’ve just become different people and are pursuing different things….” She’d go on about how as much as she loves Natasha, she can’t be the partner she expects of her. She’s tired of being made out to be this woman that’s made to be the trophy wife or something like that. That she should find someone who can connect and click with her. Be her true soulmate.

Natasha is heartbroken and wants to fix things. Not expecting this at all. Pleading for a second chance but reader stands her ground. No tears shed, but she’s not cold to her either. Reader leaves, Natasha follows her all the way to the airport, tries one last time but reader doesn’t give in….she bids the redhead farewell…and thanks her for the memories that were amazing. She wishes nothing but happiness for her and a happy life.

…that’s it. Write it, toss it away, it’s fine. I’m just going to leave this here, do with it what you want.

Thanks for the fics you made, specifically the ones where you portrayed reader as the knight in shining armor.

Signing off.

A Final Goodbye

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Masc! Reader

Summary: You take a step back and do what is best for you, and Natasha.

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this in, I am sorry to hear that you’re leave and I do hope that you’re still around to read this. I do apologise for it taking me a while to get it out, I also just want to say that I do not consider myself a masc lesbian so I do apologise in advance if anything in this is not giving that representation. Rest assured, this is Reader being the lead in this. I hope you enjoy x

You took a deep breath as you zipped up the last duffel bag, feeling the weight of your decision settle across your shoulders. Your small apartment almost empty, leaving most of your belongings in storage. Carefully, you placed the duffle bag with the others before taking a moment to gather your thoughts.

It had been playing on your mind for a while now, keeping you up at night while you tossed and turned endlessly, wishing things were different but too much had changed over time. You tried to spend time with her, but you only met with rain checks or last-minute cancellations. You missed her but you couldn’t stop thinking about the drift between you two.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman you fell for. At first, things were great, you both were on the same page and were very much in the ‘honeymoon’ phase almost every day but like all couples, there were things that you would argue about and there were plenty of things that made you both frustrated. One thing you couldn’t understand was why Nat would consistently treat you like a frail and need to be protected girlfriend. As much as you loved that she cared for you, you hated being treated like a pillow princess. It wasn’t you.

You didn’t need saving; you didn’t need protecting. You needed somebody who understood you and loved you for you. You always made it clear to Natasha that the pillow princess type wasn’t you at all, you always reminded her that you didn’t need her to protect you from every little thing, after all, you were a soldier. But something about being firm with her just didn’t stick. So, you made the decision to re-enlist for another deployment, making sure that the next time you returned, things would be different. Not just for you but for Natasha as well.

Natasha knocked softly on the door; it was time. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, meeting her soft green eyes for the first time in weeks. Her famous red locks still damp from the rain outside, her expression a mix of relief and uncertainty.

“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled on your lips, “Hey, I’m glad you could come” you replied, opening the door wider for her.

“I’m so glad you’re still here. I… I thought you might be gone already.” She said softly, her eyes darting to the small pile of duffle bags.

“I leave tomorrow” you replied, watching as Nat turned around to face you once more. “Can we talk, please?” She asked, her gaze locked onto you. “I want to give you time to talk but I really need you to listen to me first” you said as you gestured that the two of you take a seat. Natasha let out a soft sigh, deep down she knew she wasn’t leaving your apartment the same woman she came as.

The two of you took a seat at the dining table, the cold surface somehow bringing a little comfort to you in this moment as you gently reached for Natasha’s hand. You looked into her eyes for a moment, taking in the beauty she held.

“I love you so much, I always will but I need to honest with you, with us. This isn’t so much about the fact our schedules suck and the rain check are rain check. This is about us and how I’m not the person you want” you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in before continuing. “We’ve become different people. We’re pursuing different things and different dreams. I can’t be the partner you expect of me. I’m tired of you only seeing me as this fragile person who needs to protect. I’m a soldier, I’m in the air force. I can hold my own and I want to be respected for that” you added.

“Detka, I do respect you. You’re everything to me, I don’t mean to make you feel like that….I just, I care about you so, so much but I can’t deal with the thought if something were to happen to you” Natasha pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes.

You smiled softly, trying to keep your own tears from building up, “I know you respect me Nat, but, when you’re around others, you’re not the same. We go from being one to two different people and somehow, you think I’m the one who needs to protected and treated differently….” You paused for a moment, your thumb stroking her soft skin. “We both know that love is such a big, beautiful and powerful thing. It means a lot of things and one of those things is knowing when to let go. You deserve somebody who can give you everything you want, but we know deep down it’s not me” you added.

A silence fell between you both, Natasha’s face falling, her defenses crumbling as you continued. “I want you to find happiness, even if that means without me. You deserve it.”

“But… what if we can work it out? I can be better, I promise” Natasha said, pleading, her voice breaking as her tears began to fall freely down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry Nat, but it’s too late. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too”

Natasha’s expression shifted from desperation to heartbreak as she nodded at your words. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, she stood up. “I don’t want to hold you back” she said softly, barely able to look into your eyes. You stood up from your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat as she reached out to hug you one last time.

“Please be safe” she whispered, “and write to me whenever you’re ready” she added, hugging you tightly. You hugged her back, allowing yourself to feel the love she has for you one last time, hugging her just as tightly back. “I promise” you replied in the same soft whisper.

As you two parted, you smiled softly at her, hoping it would somehow ease her broken heart a little. “I know this wasn’t what you expected but I want you to know that all the memories we share and the time we had, it was beautiful, and I will forever cherish them. I want nothing but love and happiness for you, don’t hold yourself back from find another love. Be happy Nat, you deserve that” you said.

To your surprise the redhead returned a soft smile, “I will always love you” she spoke ever so gently.

“And I will always love you” you replied.

Natasha turned, and headed for the door. You watched her leave, closing the door gently behind her, taking with her a piece of your heart. You took a moment for yourself, part of you broken from the words shared but the other half excited knowing a new chapter awaited. The memories of Natasha would always be with you, reminding you that love can be found again.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Black Widow x reader #Black widow x you

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sunnybunnyy2 · 9 hours ago

Text

My Ex-boyfriends New Girl

prologue

chapter summary: the events that force your hand in your revenge scheme come to light as you find out the man who you have loved for the past three years isn't the man you needed him to be.

word count: 4.1k

pairings: Rafe Cameron x ex!fem!reader, Sofia x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cheating, toxic relationship, asshole Rafe, swearing, not much Sofia :/ and probably bad writing.

authors note: hi!! This is the prologue to my new Sofia fic series. Tumblr has not been doing my girl justice so I decided to take matters into my own hands and write for her. I deeply apologize for any typos or any mistakes (mostly if I confuse second person and third because I am not used to writing in second). Please reach out of you want to be added to the taglist!!

series masterlist next chapter

"Wow...I can't believe you did all of this..." you said as you admired the beautifully set table in front of you. It was littered with plucked red roses and lit-up orange candles. It was perfect- well at least nearly perfect. As much as you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't help but be saddened that the only flower on the table was the one you couldn't stand.

You felt as though they were overused and cliche, but it wasn't necessarily the flowers that downed your mood but the mere fact that you had told him countless times how much you loathed them and yet, once again he had stuffed them in your face.

It was as though he never heard a single word that came out of your mouth. It was okay, you supposed as at least he put the effort in, in the first place.

"Of course, I would, baby. It's our three year, I would be stupid if I didn't." Rafe stated with a small smile, that was all he was willing to offer after the events of his father's death. You could tell it was weighing him down but you couldn't do more than you already were.

You were skipping your classes, sleeping over every night, had arranged the funeral with him and been by his side every step of the way. You were exhausted but you knew he was going through the worst time of his life and was going through worse than you. That's what you kept telling yourself, that he needed comfort more than you did. That had calmed you down for the time being but it had been months and you knew that you were gonna snap one day soon, leading you to truly hope that it was when Rafe was in a good headspace but with the way life was going, you didn't know when that would be.

"Well, the stupid part is kind of debatable." You shrugged as you stabbed a piece of carrot with your fork.

"Hey!" Rafe laughed softly as he kicked your leg under the table, his hand reaching for his glass of scotch.

"I mean it though... thank you for doing all of this."

You said as you looked at him, your eyes full of love for the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. He simply nods as he pours himself another drink, but you can tell from the light coat of pink on his cheeks that he is blushing. "I love you." You finished as you reached your hand over to hold the one that had a grasp on the bottle while he was still pouring a flood of alcohol into his glass. The action stopped him in his tracks as you lowered his hand and he let go of the half-full bottle.

"I love you too, baby." He muttered the phrase as he looked into your eyes causing yours to water as you pulled away to fix the napkin on your lap and then began to eat the slightly burnt food your boyfriend had prepared.

-Six days later-

From: Sister-in-law✨

Hey

Sent 4:34 pm

It's Sarah. I changed my number a few weeks ago I'm not sure if you have it or not.

Sent 4:34 pm

I just wanted to let you know that I broke into Tannyhill like an hour ago to get a few of my things and heard a girl in Rafe's room.

Sent 4:36 pm

It didn't sound like you and if I'm wrong then I'm sorry but I don't think I am.

Sent 4:37 pm

You stared at the messages in front of you as your eyes continued to read over them just like they had for the last five minutes. You couldn't seem to tear them away.

You had known Sarah for the last three years, even before she went all pogue and left the only life she had ever known. And though you were confused about why she did at first- when Ward's toxic actions had come to light, you had driven your overly priced car over to the shack John B called home and simply hugged the girl. She had cried in your arms because she knew that even though you loved her brother, you had believed her and loved her too.

Even when you had sat on the kook side of the courthouse the day John B was arrested, your sympathetic gaze was enough to let her know that you weren't sure what to do and chose to stick by the only life you had ever known, and she couldn't fault you for that. She would have done the same if it was just another Pogue, but it wasn't. It was the man she loved and she knew that you loved Rafe and needed to do what was right for your relationship.

You had called her later that night to give her any information that you might have known about what Rafe and Ward were planning which ultimately led to John B getting out... she would never forget what you did.

You were her sister more than Rafe was her brother and that wasn't going to change just because you were doing what it took to keep the man you loved safe, just like she was.

A tear dropped from your eye and landed on the blue messages causing some of the words to blur as you hastily pulled yourself out of your bedroom and ran to your car.

You couldn't even remember the ride over as you hurried up the stairs of Tannyhill. You did know one thing though, Sarah wouldn't have lied to you and even when you hoped Rafe hadn’t lied to you earlier that morning when he assured you that you could head back to your family home- It made sense to you. He sent you home so he could finally get alone time with his side piece.

You whipped his door open and simply nodded to yourself when your boyfriend quickly pulled away from the blue-eyed redhead to meet your eyes before quickly rolling off the bed and pulling on his shorts when he finally processed who was standing in the doorway. You ran down the stairs of the biggest home on the island and the place that you had called your second home for the last three years.

You could hear the sound of the girl calling for him and the sound of him practically flying down the stairs behind you in hopes of catching you before you made it to your car and the probability of you running him over became more likely than you hearing him out.

He was faster than you thought as his large hand wrapped around your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. You whip around with your hand raised as you prepare to smack him across the face but he catches your arm with his other hand before he harshly shoves you backward. Tears run down your cheeks as you head down his too-long driveway and it certainly doesn't help that you decided to park right at the gate and run to his home.

"Baby, just stop-" He started his voice thick as he ran after you, but he was cut off before he could speak further.

"Don't call me that! You can't just baby me and I'll somehow find it in myself to forgive you. It's not happening. Have a nice life with Merida." You shot back, your tone quickly turned from heartbroken to mocking as the second stage of grief took over.

"Look... after my dad, I just..." He bowed his head after he had finally found an excuse you may actually fall for as all the kind actions you had done for him after his father died flashed through his mind, a chill ran through him as guilt began to run through him as the extent of his choices had begun to settle in. He chose getting in the pants of a random girl over his girlfriend who had stood by him after all the bad he had done. A part of him hoped that you would do that this time- bend your morals to keep him by your side.

"Jesus Christ! Don't you dare use his death as an excuse!" You shutter out a breath as you refuse to fall for his guilt-tripping. You knew that you act crazy when experiencing grief, you had experienced it yourself when you had lost your mother a few years back. You went through the stages of grief alone as your father travelled in hopes of returning and being a better father to you but instead of him becoming a better father, his running off completely ruined your relationship. You were all alone for months with no one by your side, until you met Rafe six months after the death of your mother. And though he didn't help you through it directly, his presence had filled some of the hole in your heart and had given you something else to focus on.

You had been through the loss of your mother who died of stomach cancer, the loss of your cousin who was murdered and the loss of your younger sister who had perished in a car accident when you were twelve. You had known more about loss than anyone you had been close with and knew firsthand how grief could affect you- especially when you lose a parent- but Rafe had, had your support and love through it all. You had been by his side through it all even though he and his dad weren't close, even though your boyfriend had hired a hitman on his own father only to cheat on his girlfriend and blame it on his father when he had been dead for four and a half months.

"Look," You continued as you brought your weakened arms up to your hips as you scrutinized him dead in his eye. "I'm sorry about your dad. I really am- but newsflash the guys dead! And he has been for months- and for months, I've been bending over backwards to help you get through it just for you... to prove to me that I made a mistake. That I wasted not just months of my life helping you but years of my life loving you." You saw the range of emotions that flashed over his face as he attempted to process your words. It started with tears at the mention of his father, but his sadness flashed to anger as you began to mention all you had done for him and looked as though he was about to interrupt you but you just kept going, until it flashed to something darker.

"I told you when we started out that I had three deal breakers. Disrespect of any kind, lying and cheating- and so far you've managed to cross them all off, didn't you? Should I start yelling bingo?" You let out an angry laugh that resembles a heartbroken one as you turn around and head to your car.

"If you take one more step, I will make sure you regret it." His words came out like they were natural like you were one of the people he despised most. As if you hadn’t been the most important person to him for the last three years. It was jarring how different his voice was when he wasn’t telling you he loved you.

You stop in your tracks as a chill runs down your spine, there is something in his tone... an edge it has that sends a warning through you. You know what he's done and what he's capable of. And as much as it hurt you to think this, you could count every time he had ever scared on one hand but right now, this wasn't just fear creeping through you- it was terror.

He didn't have anything to lose anymore. His mother had been gone since he was thirteen, Sarah had chosen her true family over her blood family, Rose had taken Wheezie just days after Ward's body was found and had run for the hills without even taking a second thought about the grief her stepchildren were going through while holding on to the remaining gold and lastly, the one person he loved more than this his siblings and more than you- his father- was gone and he was never coming back.

He was no longer enrolled in college anymore and even if he was, he never went to his classes and definitely wouldn't now. He didn't have a job other than his half-assed company he was so hellbent on making. A large part of you felt sorry for him; he was going through a lot and didn't have anyone by his side, but an even larger part of you felt more bad for yourself. You loved him blindly, stuck with him after he took someone's life, stayed with him after he tried to kill his sister twice, stayed with him through his cocaine addiction, stayed with him after the death of his father and after his youngest sister was taken from him. You would have willingly been his home had he not shown you time and time again that he would stray for something else that caught his attention. First it it was the coke, then the gold, then his father's approval and now some random girl. You would have been crazed to even consider staying with him this time and to be frank, it didn't even cross your mind.

"Is that a threat, Rafe? You gonna kill me like you killed Peterkin?" You asked sharply.

"Nah...you'll just have to wait and see. You're gonna regret ever leaving his driveway." A small, creepy smile spread across his face and it was that damn smile that showed you that you were right to be done with him. He had finally lost it.

"Yeah, I don't think I will. Nothing you do to me would be worse than staying with you." And with those words you took that one step, the one that would seal your fate as you took those final steps to your sleek car before you pulled yourself in and slammed the door. Through the windshield window, you could see Rafe still standing there with his arms crossed as if he was expecting you to hop out of your car and run to him but he was clearly mistaken as you shifted your car gear and stepped on the gas like your life depended on it and in your defence, you were as you hurtled out of Tannyhill without looking back.

And though it was reckless you pulled out your phone as you slowed down on the gas when you considered yourself a safe distance away from your crazed ex boyfriend. With your phone in your hand, you opened up Sarah's contact and your eyes locked on her earlier messages. The same messages that seemed to blow up your three-year relationship.

Hey

Sent 4:34 pm

It's Sarah. I changed my number a few weeks ago I'm not sure if you have it or not.

Sent 4:34 pm

I just wanted to let you know that I broke into Tannyhill like an hour ago to get a few of my things and heard a girl in Rafe's room.

Sent 4:36 pm

It didn't sound like you and if I'm wrong then I'm sorry but I don't think I am.

Sent 4:37 pm

You changed contact to: Sista from another mista ✨

To: Sista from another mista ✨

Thank you for telling me. It wasn't me. It was some rando Rafe was screwing.

Sent 5:59 pm

Me and your brother are done

Sent 5:59 pm

I am so sorry that I didn't leave him sooner, I was stupid but I'm not anymore.

Sent 6:00 pm

I love you :/

Sent 6:02 pm

And a few minutes later you were in some fast food restaurant parking lot eating way too much food while slurping down a large milkshake as you accepted that multiple years of your life were wasted when Sarah finally responded.

From: Sista from another mista✨

Omg Y/N, I'm so so so sorry

Read 6:16 pm

As much as I thought he loved you, he can never put anyone above himself and I'm sorry if you're not in the mood to shit talk him but you deserve better

Read 6:17 pm

You always have and it hurts that you're just realizing it now.

Read 6:17 pm

No matter what you will always be my sister. I may love you even more now that you had the guts to leave him.

Read 6:18 pm

To: Sister-in-law✨

It's fine. I was dumb asf, I guess I needed him to screw someone else to realize.

Read 6:18 pm

Rafe is chaos and I guess I am too.

Read 6:18 pm

Nothing has to change between you and me. I could even stop by more without Rafe on my ass.

Read 6:18 pm

From: Sister-in-law✨

Yes!! That's such an upside and don't beat yourself up over it. You are not chaos. Rafe is. At least you left, my mom never did.

Read 6:19 pm

You could feel the hurt through the message. She loved her mom but she had never left her father even though he was a less-than-stellar husband. You had done what her mother didn't.

I'm ALWAYS here if you need to talk, no judgment.

Read 6:20 pm

I love you💗 always

Read 6:20 pm

To: Sister-in-law✨

I love you too Sare<3

Hearted 6:21 pm

The next day your life was flipped upside down after you received a call from Yale University to personally notify you that you had been expelled for unlawful drug use after Rafe had anonymously sent a video to your university of you doing coke for the first time two years ago after he had talked you into it and you hadn’t done it since as you didn't like how it made you feel. He even went as far as getting someone to plant a small amount of coke in your car resulting in you getting arrested in a ditch after being pulled over. After that, your father gave you an ultimatum. He speaks to Topper's grandfather who is a respected judge- and gets him to let you off the hook if you go to a rehab centre or you get charged for carrying drugs in your car and get up to a year in prison. And no matter how much you tried to convince him that you didn't do cocaine and that it was only that one time, he didn't even want to hear you out.

And as much as you didn't want to go to rehab, you knew that it was better than prison.

Though you knew Rafe would want to get revenge on you for breaking it off with him, you never would have expected him to partake in such a deliberate and evil takedown for experiencing the consequences of his selfish actions. It was insane to think that you had spent years of your life with a man who you thought would do anything for you, he had looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars yet he had disrespected you and humiliated you beyond belief for some random girl? You had never seen her before so you could only assume she was a Pogue which you highly doubted from the way he spoke about lower-class people, so that could only mean that she was a tourist. He had thrown your whole relationship away for some girl who was gonna leave a few days later but he felt the need to single-handedly ruin your life for having a problem with it?

You had kicked yourself every day you spent in the hellhole that was rehab, the doctors looked down upon you like you were the bane of their existence, it was exhausting constantly being judged for being an addict when you weren't even one, to begin with. Hell, the place made you want to do drugs. You couldn't quite understand why a place that was supposed to help you overcome addiction would do so little good with the amount of money that goes into funding them.

Your stay at the rehab centre was only two months but it took you seven months to return to OBX as you were sent to go live with your aunt, Mae, in New York. And in those five months, you stewed as you put a plan into action to wreak havoc upon the man who ruined your life.

Now, eight months after the fall of the most talked about couple on the island- you were sitting in the country club sipping a pina colada that a pretty bartender made while wearing a beautiful floral dress.

The booming sound of your ex-boyfriend's laugh brought you out of your head as you slowly turned your neck to look over at the approaching man, and thankfully he was by the other side of the bar which caused a smile to curl up your lips slightly as your plan seemed to set into motion, however- your smile dropped as he leaned down to kiss the pretty bartender who made your drink just a few minutes prior shocking you to your core.

You had heard from Sarah that Rafe was dating some poor girl from the cut but you hadn't expected it to be the girl you had just made small talk with a few minutes ago, and you certainly hadn't expected her to be...her.

From your conversation, you could tell that she was a very sweet girl who was just trying to change the financial situation that she had been born into and you admired that deeply. In said conversation, you had learned that she was twenty-two making you two the same age and that she was born in Mexico City but moved to the cut when she was very young.

You also couldn't ignore the fact that she was beautiful and if you were going to be serious, you were pretty jealous and not because Rafe had moved on- but because he was dating one of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen while you were tucked away in a facility or stuck in the presence of your annoying cousins.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you listen to their conversation.

"Hey, baby." He used to call me that. "I missed you this morning." So their sleeping over? You picked apart every word of their conversation, you couldn't even help yourself.

"I know," she laughed, "I'm sorry, again. I had to cover Gaby's shift."

"Yeah, yeah whatever you say." He laughed causing her to grin before she slapped his chest. "I gotta go, Toppers waiting. I just wanted to say hi and put our drinks in. I'll take-" He began to list what he wanted before the shorter girl shook her head as if she had already memorized his order, and she had.

"I know... Topper want the usual?" She asked as she began to tap on the device behind the bar to type in his drink order.

"Yeah, thanks." She nods in response, her eyes fixated on the task at hand. "Love you." He smiles as he backs away, his eyes still focused on his girlfriend.

He used to say that to me all the time, you thought.

Those words grab her attention as she looks up with a smile so wide you guessed that it hurt but it suited her quite nicely. "Love you." After that; he turned away and headed to his table and Sofia turned back to the monitor in front of her. Then, as if she sensed your eyes on her she pulled hers away from the screen and looked over at you. She smiled at you and if it wasn't so sweet you would have guessed that she was rubbing it in your face.

"Would you like another?" She asked as she pointed to your nearly empty drink, you nodded gently and she turned around to work on your drink, deciding that her boyfriends and his best friends could wait.

A wide smile fills the space of the small one that had covered your face just a minute ago as you mentally changed your whole plan of taking Rafe down for a crime he didn't commit after deciding that you had a better one in mind. One that he wouldn't never see coming and it all involved your ex-boyfriend's new girl and man- it was going to feel good.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #Rafe Cameron x kook!reader #sofia x fem!reader #sofia obx #sofia x fem!reader obx #obx x reader #MEBNG SERIES

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waynes-multiverse · 10 hours ago

Text

I was so tired yesterday I knew if I read it I wouldn’t do it justice, so had to wait till I was better rested.

I feel like this was a theme for all of us before the summer. I felt that comment in my tired bones 😂 Hope all's good with you, though! Missed ya a lot, friend 🤍

“Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.” broke me

I'm glad it broke you! I was rather proud of that line 😂 Plus, I think she made a great point for Beau lol

I love Beau asking about the dating, and doing it about face as soon as he realizes other guys have made inquiries.

Haha yes! Beau was hearing that and going, "Dammit! And here I thought I was being an honorable gentleman by giving her time to grieve. Meanwhile, these cockroaches are already hitting on her like damn vultures! Her husband's body ain't even cold yet..." 😂

And the vibrator line – Quinn got apology cookies for the laugh that I cackled out and woke him!

Oh, she definitely was pushing boundaries there 🤣 And yay, cookies for Quinn!!! 🍪

I know it was meant to be sweet, but very, very bittersweet – beautiful!

Ooof, right? Part of what I loved writing about this series were these really tragic moments between them. There's always this "wrong place, wrong time" dangling in the air and tons of "what ifs". Well, hopefully the stars align for them... 😉

And BTW, you have the paragraph

Ah, thanks!!! That one got away from me. Finally corrected it after months... 😂🙈

I swear to the Gods, when I read “He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.” the next thing I heard in my head was “ because he doesn’t have much time left to do it,” and that stopped me cold. Foreshadowing, or too much Dateline – I’m not sure. But it gave me chills.)

Ooop, we'll see where this story leads... Might not be death that will haunt her and cause a rift 👀 (Or maybe it will 🤷‍♀️)

Quoting all these lines back to me? You're making my writer heart soar, woman! 😍❤️❤️❤️ (On a side note, I really loved the metaphor with the cassette tape. He really is her B-side 🥰)

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” (that double entendre got Quinn another cookie!)

I imagine Jenny internally also snorted pretty hard at that one 😂

And man, you ended on kind of an ominous note… I’ve got a real bad feeling. Whatever happens, at least they have that soft moment between them.

Yup, let's hope it won't be the last! 🤞

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”  “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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