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rukia-writes · 1 year

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Hercules x (fem) reader

Setting: modern au

Plot: From high school friends ➜ college friends.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop.”

“Shhh, now. Hercules brought a girl home from school today.”

A middle aged man had his ear to his step-son’s door listening to their conversation, while passing by the brother kindly scolded his father for his behavior.

“He brings a lot of friends that are girls home.”

“Don’t say it like that, Hermes.”

The father made a Shh motion with his hand only for the oldest son, Ares, to join in on the conversation.

“What going on? Hercules home?”

“Yes, and he’s also brought home a girl apparently.”

“But he’s brought home girls before.”

Hermes answered his older brother who was studying for his college exams, technically all three men were so supposed to be studying, Ares gave the same answer Hermes did which made him shrug his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah. But this one is different. She’s hot.”

“Unless, (Name)’s behind the door Im not impressed.”

Ares told his father, as all three boys went to the same school and knew of a popular girl named (Name). Seemingly, everyone seemed and everyone seemed to think Hercules and (Name) were going out but they denied everytime when asked and once word got out that (Name) was visiting her supposed friend at home the school would be a buzz.

“Yes! That’s her name actually.”

“Really?! (Name)’s here?!”

“How did brother Hercules pull that off.”

“Are you saying your brother is ugly and can’t get a girl?”

Ares was surprised to hear that his younger brother had invited the popular girl to their home, Hermes didn’t believe it at first but did come to the conclusion that it wasn’t impossible and their father teased them only to have the door open knocking him almost out as it was Hercules who opened the door.

“I heard that! (Name) is my friend and she just came over to get her manga back from me.”

Poking her head from around his arm with a few manga books in her arms, both were still wearing their school uniform and Hermes could tell that weren’t up to anything. Ares, unknowingly stepped on his father to introduce himself as Hermes did the same ignoring their fathers cries.

Shaking all their hands and getting to know her friend’s brothers (Name) felt honored. Before she left to go home however, Hercules asked her to come over to study as he was a bit nervous taking his college entrance exams and of course (Name) agreed to do so as she was also a bit nervous about taking her exams.

“So, you’re not dating? Lame.”

“It’s not like that between us-and how did these rumors start anyways?”

Castor and Hercules were walking to class together and Hercules had already heard the rumors about him and his friend. The tall and muscular Hercules wasn’t too happy about that, while it didn’t matter to Hercules what they said about him it was (Name) he was concerned about.

“Not for sure, but it’s definitely a buzz at school.”

Castor was right Hercules was bombarded with questions from people he knew and didn’t know. Thinking to himself, what was the big deal about inviting a girl over. Not seeing the big deal Hercules ignored their comment but would add in that (Name) was a good girl and that they shouldn’t pick on her.

“(Name), we are supposed to be studying.”

“And we will. Right after I win this game.”

After school the two had walked by a arcade center and upon seeing a cute stuffed animal in a arcade crane game (Name) wanted to win and began to play. Hercules warned her not to play for too long as he knew people could spend hours on these games and the two needed that time to study. Twenty minutes later (Name) had successfully won her stuffed animal.

Rather, Hercules did as (Name) had spent all her money and Hercules helped her to get it. Thanking Hercules many times made him happy and as the day turned to night Hercules returned home to a bunch of questions from his brothers which he kindly told them he was out with a friend. Tomorrow, for sure the two would study.

“You guys were at the arcade all day?! And you didn’t study?!”

“No, but we will today.”

Castor kindly scolded his friend as Hercules kindly blamed himself as he remembered playing games all day with (Name), thinking to himself it was really fun and that he wanted play again but this time they had to study.

As the days passed, the two did study but they also had fun.

Whenever they studied at Hercules’ home they would study and talk about manga while having snacks. Ares and Hermes would sometimes eavesdrop on the two, just to make sure the two were studying. Sometimes, Castor, Hermes and Ares would join in on the study session and every time everyone seemed to enjoy each others company.

The day before college exams started it started to rain and of course (Name) forgot her umbrella. With no other choice (Name) decided to just run home, a little water never hurt anyone. Until thunder roared and the rain started to down pour preventing her idea from happening.

“Forget your umbrella?”

Recognizing the voice (Name) turned around to see her friend, Hercules with a smile on his face. Smiling back and confirming that she indeed had no umbrella, Hercules also confirmed he too had no umbrella but his school jacket would suffice. In disbelief, (Name) teased her friend saying, “I doubt your jacket will work.” Only for Hercules to reply back, “Just get in.”

Sure enough, the rain down poured and the two walked underneath Hercules’ school jacket. It was large enough for the both of them, getting the last word in by saying, “I told you so.” Hercules smiled at his friend as she walked beside him saying it was okay to be wrong sometimes.

As the two walked in the heavy rain, (Name) was asked a question she wasn’t expecting from her friend.

“Once exams are over, do you want to watch movies with me?”

“….Netflix and chill?!”

“What?! N-No! Absolutely NOT!”

Both had stopped walking as (Name) took her friend’s question the wrong way causing Hercules to become flustered and embarrassed, all the while looking at each as the rain poured heavy still.

“Well, don’t yell at me! You’re the one leaving their porn books out in broad daylight! I saw it!”

“What?! No! No! That wasn’t mine! That was my brother Ares. I would never look at such a thing and you know that-“

The two went back and forth with their “argument” but in truth they were both just flustered, (Name) believed Hercules was blaming his brother and Hercules was just flustered about the whole concept of Netflix and Chill. Eventually, the two kindly separated each frustrated with each other.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

Hercules was the first to apologize and it honestly made (Name) heart skip a beat as she could tell it was genuine, clearing her throat she also apologized saying, “I’m sorry as well.” and the two shared a heartwarming laugh together in the rain.

Soon enough, the two graduated from school and went on to college of their choice.

Laying her stuff down in her dorm room, (Name) was ready to take on college life and have new beginnings. While unpacking her things she discovered the stuffed animal her beloved friend won for her, hugging it close to her she wished her handsome friend was okay on his endeavors.

“I hope you’re doing okay.”

“Wh-What are you doing in my dorm room?!”

Looking at her stuffed animal (Name) believed she was hearing things now, because that definitely sounded like her beloved friend. It was only when the voice said her name that she turned to the door way to see Hercules wearing the college’s sweatshirt with denim pants carrying his stuff, heavy stuff, with ease.

“What are you doing in my dorm room?!”

Both asked each other flustered and frustrated at the same time, poking his head from around the corner Hermes asked Hercules if (Name) was his roommate. Both blinked a few times and checked to see if they had the same room number.

They did.

“What are the odds? Well, maybe you can take it to the school Dean?”

Hermes suggested as he double checked to see whether the numbers matched, Ares walked in happy as he already had everything unpacked only to be in shock to see (Name).

“Well, if (Name) doesn’t mind we can take the room. We’re friends after all.”

Thinking to herself, if Hercules would be an decent dorm mate she concluded he would be fine. There was just one thing she wouldn’t budge on.

“…I get the shower in the mornings.”

“That’s fine.”

Both shook hands and agreed to certain terms and conditions while Hermes and Ares watched, Ares shocked that they just agreed to be room mates so quickly and not just any room mate but (Name) the popular girl in their previous school.

“They have to be dating, brother.”

Ares whispered to Hermes who tapped his chin with his finger thinking to himself maybe that was that case, only time would tell.

But one thing was certain, they were friends for sure.

Perhaps, this whole dorm mates thing wasn’t working out.

It was late at night as (Name) was trying to get some sleep as she had class the next morning, unfortunately her room mate was not asleep as he was playing games on his PS5 with other friends he had including his brothers.

Thinking to herself that it wouldn’t happen anymore, (Name) told herself she would talk to her friend in the morning. Ashame, since she liked having Hercules as a room mate as he was easy to get along with. In the morning, (Name) found her roommate who had just taken a shower exiting with just a towel wrapped around his waist and another towel drying his wet hair. Of course with a tattoo running across his torso from his right shoulder to the lower left side of his abdomen.

“Oh sorry, I have an early morning class today and borrowed the shower. Sorry about that-“

Rushing past him Hercules saw his room mate quickly by passed him and closed the bathroom door her and then hearing the shower running. Confused Hercules blinked a few times as he wondered if he did something to offend his friend.

In the shower, (Name) told herself she would tell Hercules about keeping the noise level down later that day.

Hercules abs and tattoo saved him that day.

🎀Rukia-Writes🎀

#record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #Hercules x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #record of ragnorak

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alj4890 · 3 years

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Angst Prompt

Dawn’s Early Light

(Part Three to One Fateful Night)

As requested by many of you.

(Liam x OC) in a one shot continuation of the angsty One Fateful Night.

A/N Here's some happiness to the angst so many sent messages about. I know it is still bittersweet in a way, with Riley being dead and all, but I think it gives our favorite prince a chance to find true love after all. On another note, I had at one time considered Liam meeting someone in Washington D.C. in another story where Riley died the night of the Homecoming Ball in Book 2. I guess this makes up for deleting it and never posting, LOL.

Part 2 The Dark Before the Dawn

@kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @krsnlove @mom2000aggie @twinkleallnight @lodberg @sweatyrysconnoisseur @motorcitymademadame

Masterlist

Dawn’s Early Light

Somewhere in Maryland...

"Sir?"

Liam grimaced at the voice coming through loud and clear from his cell phone. The one time he convinced Bastien that he could travel on his own and the man still made certain to call every hour.

"Yes?" He huffed.

"Your current location?"

"That at the moment is a little difficult to pinpoint." Liam squinted through the pouring rain. "One of the roads was flooded and the numerous detours have sent me further east of D.C."

He could hear frantic mutterings in the background, papers shifting and clicks from computers.

"Pull over and we will try to locate you." Bastien ordered.

Liam looked about at the flour lane highway, barely able to see five feet ahead of him. "There isn't a spot to do so. I'll call once I find a safe place."

"Your majesty," he could hear the frustration in his Head of the King's Guards' voice, "this is why I insisted we fly down together."

"And I knew this was my last chance to take a road trip of sorts." Liam countered. "You worry too much, Bastien."

"And you don't worry enough." Bastien muttered. "If you haven't found a place within the next hour, I am coming to find you."

"Make sure to bring a rowboat." Liam teased. "That's probably the best way to travel here."

His jest was met with silence.

"Bastien?" Liam glanced down at his phone and saw the call had dropped. Tossing it back in the passenger seat, he continued on down the road.

*****************

Outside of Annapolis...

"No!" Autumn pleaded when her tire burst. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Pulling over onto the shoulder of the highway, she tried to call her parents.

"Gee, thanks for no bars." She grumbled, chucking her phone back into her purse.

Reaching for her coat she prepared herself mentally to change her own tire.

Why did Dad have to make it so boring? He knew I wouldn't pay attention!

It had been ten years since she had sat through that lesson, day dreaming of the cute guy who sat next to her in chemistry class.

And just like her lack of luck with Mr. Chemistry, she was about to fail miserably with her tire.

She pulled the flashlight and tools out her father insisted she keep in her vehicle at all times and stepped out into the rainstorm.

"Any creepy serial killers out there," she yelled towards the darkened woods that lined the highway, "now is NOT the time to mess with me!"

She paused in removing the jack from her trunk. "That goes for any wild animals unless you're the helpful kind from fairy tales."

She snorted at her own joke as she set reflectors along the road. "And if you know of any princes, do send them my way."

"Alright car, you and I have been through it." She patted it's side. "All the snow storms in Pennsylvania. New jobs. New apartments. Ex boyfriends." She knelt by the flat tire. "Let's get through this and I'll treat you to a tank of premium gas."

She removed the hubcap and blinked when a pair of bright headlights pulled up behind her.

"Didn't I specifically demand no serial killers?" She muttered to herself as she saw the silhouette of a man start walking her way.

"Pardon me?" A cultured voice called out. "Are you in need of any assistance?"

She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the light. "I wouldn't say no to some help."

Her mystery person stopped a couple of feet away from her and studied her tire.

"Where's the jack?"

She handed it to him and watched as he expertly began to raise the back end up.

"Here's the tool kit." She handed it over, discreetly keeping a screwdriver in her hand in case he was a psycho.

"I hate to keep you out in the rain, but could you shine your flashlight here so I can remove the lug nuts?"

"Right. Of course." She dutifully lifted it where he directed.

"Perfect." He turned to smile at her. "Thank you."

She blinked at how handsome he was. "I, no problem. I should be thanking you."

"My pleasure." He looked around. "I don't suppose you know where we are, do you?"

Oh no. A hot psycho. Just my luck.

"Um, don't you know?" She took a cautious step back.

"I've never been in this part of America before." He explained, unaware of her trepidation. "I lost GPS about two hours ago."

"Oh." She relaxed and stepped closer. "We're about forty-five minutes from Annapolis.

"How far is that from D.C.?" He asked.

"About forty minutes or so depending on traffic." She tilted her head. "Let me guess. You're a politician or aide of some sort."

He chuckled. "Not really."

"You certainly don't sound like the men in Washington."

"Oh? And how do they sound?"

"Arrogant jerks. Every last one of them. Even the mailroom guys act like they rule the world." Her nose wrinkled.

"Ah." Her handsome stranger removed her flat tire and placed the spare on. "Not fond of men in power, I take it."

"Not really." She squatted next to him, hoping she would remember his actions in case she had another flat tire some time in the future. "I guess there's bound to be one man out there who actually wants to serve the people instead of having them serve him."

"I see." He glanced over at her. "I like to think there are honest rulers out there."

Her brow furrowed. "Rulers?" She studied his profile. "You're not American, are you?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Where are you from?" Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Your accent is hard to place."

"Cordonia" he grunted as he tightened the lug nuts. "Have you heard of it?"

"It sounds familiar." She muttered.

"It is a tiny but beautiful country in Europe." He explained.

"Isn’t every European nation?” She teased. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of of one that I would turn down a vacation to.”

He began to lower her car back down with the jack. "All done."

"I don't know how to thank you." She pushed her wet hair back, wondering how horrible she must look as she picked up the safety reflectors

"No need." He smiled warmly. "Have a good evening, my lady." With an instinctive bow, he turned and walked back to his own car.

"My lady?" Her lips quirked with humor. Perhaps the fairy tale animals had sent her a prince. "Hey! Wait!"

He paused with his car door open. "Yes?"

"There's an all night diner a few miles ahead." She took a deep breath. "Would you like to follow me there? We could dry off and I could buy you a piece of pie as a thank you."

Her hero's smile grew brighter. "I'd like that. Lead the way."

********************

"I'm Autumn." She held her hand out as they waited to be seated.

"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Liam." He took her hand and bowed over it.

"Is that how people greet one another in Cordonia?" She asked.

"It is the norm from where I grew up." He responded with a sheepish grin.

He shook her hand. "Is that better?"

"Your way was fine." She glanced down at their clasped hands. "I just feel a little under dressed for such a proper greeting."

"Nonsense." Liam continued to hold her hand. "A little water logged perhaps, but lovely nonetheless."

Her lips parted in surprise.

"Just the two of you?"

The pair turned toward a waitress.

"Yes." Autumn replied. "Just us."

"Follow me." She sat them at a table and handed over some menus. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Coffee, please." Autumn replied.

"I'll have the same." Liam added.

"Coming right up."

*********************

"Autumn?" Liam tested her name. "Were you given that name due to being born in the fall?"

She shook her head. "My parents have a warped sense of humor. I was born in April."

He laughed causing her to smile once more.

She thought his laughter had such a warm encompassing sound that made her want to hear it often as she could.

"They also wanted to have their kids' initials for Pennsylvania." She rolled her eyes. "My older brother, Patrick, took care of the P while I completed it with an A." Her own laughter bubbled out. "Then my unplanned younger brother was born and threw those initials out the door."

"What did they name him?" Liam asked.

"August, since he was born in January. Being that he was a surprise, they went with another A name to have an, aaahhh, moment at the end of P.A.."

Liam shook with his laughter over her parents. "They sound delightful."

"They sound that way," she teased, "but when you live with them..." Her smile softened. "They really are great parents and my brothers aren't too bad either."

"I have an older brother." He told her. "Leo and I were never as close as I wished we could have been. He spends so much time traveling and exploring the world that I don't have the heart to pressure him into coming home more often." A sadness came over him. "I've never seen him so happy as when he sends me pictures from his latest adventure."

"He's a wandering soul." She added.

"Precisely." Liam refocused on her. "And a wanderer withers and dies if tied down."

"What about your parents?" She asked.

"My mother died when I was very young and my father passed away about five years ago." He explained. "I'm close to my stepmother, Regina. She and Leo are all I have left for family."

"I'm sorry." Autumn mumbled. "I didn't mean to dredge up painful--"

Her breath caught when he laid his hand over hers. She thought she could actually feel herself getting lost in his blue eyes...which was something she teased her friends over every time they mentioned something like that. Yet here she was, finding herself falling for a man who changed her tire in the rain.

He gently squeezed her fingers. "Nothing to apologize for. I miss them but I am done grieving."

As their waitress brought them a fresh pot of coffee, Liam realized how true that statement was. He was done grieving for all of his lost loved ones.

******************

"Now then." Liam looked up from his menu. "Do you work in Washington?"

"I do." She replied. "Not in a political aspect though."

"What do you do?" He asked.

"I'm an archivist at the National Air and Space Museum."

His expression brightened with interest. "I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian. To work and preserve the very fabric of your nation's history must be fascinating."

"It is!" She leaned forward as she became more animated about her work.

Deciding to prolong this conversation, the two ordered a meal before indulging in pie.

Liam listened, asking questions that only made her more excited in sharing this piece of her life.

It was rare for Autumn to find anyone interested in what she did.

"Right now, my team is working on digitizing everything we have on rocket tests during the 1950's." She explained. "Reading through the vast paperwork, various film and photographs, all audio recordings; I get to sift through every bit of it for our records."

"I once assisted an archivist at the palace library." Liam told her. "I discovered long ago manuscripts and journals in a hidden nook." His smile softened at the memory. "It was all by accident. My best friend and I were playing in one of the ballrooms when the soccer ball we were kicking around struck a piece of the baseboards, causing a hidden door to open."

Autumn's eyes widened. "It's a wonder you didn't get in trouble with the palace curators. They do not appreciate anyone playing around the exhibits."

Liam chuckled. "I was lucky the curators were fond of me."

"You knew them?" She asked. "Were they family members?"

"They aren't family, but I did know them." He replied, being deliberately mysterious about who he was.

He hadn't had a normal conversation in years. When she didn't recognize him, he felt a lightness he had felt on that long ago night in New York. He had forgotten how it was, how it made him feel. So often, people said the things they thought he wanted to hear. He missed the back and forth of sharing personal tidbits.

Autumn grimaced when she realized she had basically dominated the conversation for nearly an hour.

"Enough about my work," she smiled at him, "what do you do? Did you come here for business or to finally see the Smithsonian?"

He chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee. "As much as I would prefer spending my days wandering through museums, I am here to meet with government officials."

Her nose wrinkled. "I’m sorry. I do not envy you for that." Her eyebrow lifted. "What's the government like in Cordonia? Do you have a prime minister or something similar to our president?"

"We are a constitutional monarchy with the king as the Head of State." He explained.

"I see. Then you work in some capacity for him?" She continued. "You must to be here for meetings."

Liam lowered his eyes. "I suppose you could say that."

"So what's your job title?" She persisted. "Are you a member of the house of lords or whatever you have? Aide to the king?"

"I have a higher position than anything like that." He hedged. "Which is why I'm the only one to attend these meeting the next couple of weeks."

Her brow furrowed. "The king doesn't handle stuff like that?"

"He does which is why I'm here." He focused on her eyes. "The king is the only one to handle the approval for trade agreements and maintaining friendly relations with other countries."

"Then why isn’t he..." She burst into laughter. "You really had me going there for a moment." She shook her head at him. "Nice try, but no king travels alone on highways in a Nissan Altima."

"I do when I want to appear a regular man." He explained.

"Because isn't that royalty is all about?" She giggled some more. "Living life as a middle class man."

"I'm sincere." He argued. "I really am the King of Cordonia."

Her laughter died. "And just when I thought you weren't mentally unhinged." She sighed while picking at her piece of blueberry pie. "I knew you were too good to be true. No man can be both selfless and handsome without a few screws loose."

Liam's elation she found him attractive caught him by surprise. It wasn't that other women had not said similar to him at various functions. It was that he actually felt attracted to her too.

"I can prove I'm the king."

"How long have you believed you were king?" She asked. "Any chance you've thought you were someone else at one time? Napoleon Bonaparte? King Tut?"

He snorted on his laughter. "I've been king for over six years now. The rest of my life was spent as a prince."

"Uh huh." She poured them each another cup of coffee. "Guess that explains why you weren't banned from the palace for playing soccer."

"It is my home." He pointed out.

"Sure it is." She patted his hand. "And I'm sure you're the best king out there who knows how to change a tire."

"I only know because my best friend taught me." Liam explained. "He was one of the few people in my life who did not allow me to become a spoiled prince."

"Right." She smiled at him. "It's been great and all." She reached into her purse for her wallet. "And I do thank you so much for your help with the flat tire, but I should go."

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

"I believe you believe it." She said cautiously.

Liam quickly pulled his phone out and handed it to her. "Look up Cordonia."

"Just because you think you're a king doesn't mean you can order me around." Her eyes narrowed in warning. "Besides, I wouldn't use your phone. You'd probably have me looking at some doctored photos of yourself."

"Forgive me I didn’t mean to make it sound like a command." Liam ran a hand through his hair. "I've never met anyone who didn't believe I am who I say."

"First time for e everything, huh?" She hesitated when she saw his disappointment. "Fine." She searched for her phone. "I'll play along if you find our waitress. I'm going to need more pie as I research you."

He grinned while doing as she asked.

Autumn wandered of it was because it was the middle of the night that made her sit here with some guy claiming to be--

"No!" Her eyes darted from the images of King Liam of Cordonia to the Liam sitting at her table. "You're really a king?!"

"Would you care for another slice of blueberry or a different type of pie?" He asked with a bright smile.

"Blueberry." Her jaw was still dropped.

"Another slice of blueberry please for the lady and I'll have a slice of apple."

"Why on earth are you traveling lone highways in Maryland?" She asked when their waitress left.

"I flew in to New York for a few meetings with U.N. representatives. Our representative is new to her job and I wanted to encourage her." He explained. "Then I suppose I caught a bit of wanderlust from my brother and wanted to drive down to D.C." He took a bite of his new slice of pie. "It's rare I am able to convince my security team to let me out of their sight, but there are times when I like to be alone with my thoughts."

"I guess you have a lot of people demanding your time." She conceded.

"I do, which is why I make time for the people and activities that are important to me." He looked up at her. "Experience has taught me how fleeting time can be and we should make the most of every moment we are given."

"I like that." She cut into her slice with her fork while scrolling through images of Cordonia. "A lot of people get so easily wrapped up in their work and don't realize that they are missing out on so much more."

"Are you one of those people?"

Autumn paused chewing to consider his question. "Sometimes. I can get so wrapped up in a project and shut out the world going on around me." She shrugged. "Then something happens to shake me back to reality."

Liam grinned when it hit him that his being confirmed king had not changed the way she spoke to him.

As if reading his thoughts, her fork clattered on her plate. "I can't believe you really are a king." Her head tilted as she studied him. "You really don't act like how I imagine one would."

Liam folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. His bright blue eyes held her gray ones. "How should I act?"

She snorted. "For one thing you wouldn't have stood out in the pouring rain to change a tire."

"Aren't fairy tales filled with princes rescuing damsel in distress?" He countered.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "It isn't like you slayed a dragon."

"According to your imagination, what should I have done in that situation?" He countered, delighted with her not putting him on a pedestal.

"First off, if you were on a," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "road trip, you'd probably be in a limo since your private jet is tucked away in a hangar somewhere."

"But then I would have a driver and thus not able to be alone." He reminded her.

"True." She propped her chin on her hand and smiled. "We'll forget the car then since you are chivalrous and in need of a break." She gestured with her free hand around the diner. "A king wouldn't come her, happily order food, nor be willing to sit here for hours listening to some girl talk about museums."

"Why not?" Liam asked. "He could have been hungry since he had been lost for a while."

"I guess that's a reasonable possibility." Autumn muttered.

"And if he wanted to know more about the damsel he rescued, then shouldn't he be at least willing to remain here with her?"

"Maybe." She forced herself to look away from him. "Then again, maybe this is a night for things out to the ordinary to happen." She asked their waitress for their check.

Autumn shushed his arguments, insisting on paying for his meal.

At that moment, Bastien and some guards walked in.

Liam's eyes widened. "Bastien? How did you find me?"

"We have a tracker on your phone, your majesty." He explained. "We really need to get you to Washington. You have an early morning of..."

Liam tuned him out and focused once more on the lady he had met tonight.

"It's my fault." Autumn spoke up. "I wanted to thank Liam with some pie for his help earlier."

She stood up and held her hand out. “Thank you again for helping me.”

Liam pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Autumn."

"I..." She could feel her entire body blush with that simple touch. "I'm happy to have met you too, Liam." She grimaced. "I mean, your majesty. Should I curtsy?"

He chuckled. "Just Liam with no curtsey is fine."

"Liam no curtsey." She winked at him. "Nice name for a king." Nodding farewell toward his guards, she slipped out of the restaurant.

Liam watched her drive off from one of the windows.

He wondered if he had just met the one.

#Liam x OC #choices the royal romance #choices stories you play #trr liam #king liam

19 notes · View notes

sserpente · 5 years

Photo

A/N: Request from anon. I’ve been writing so much fluff lately, I hope you enjoy!

Words: 2029 Warnings: injury, fluff

Autumn truly was the most beautiful time of the year, your small cabin deep in the woods the best investment you had ever made. Every year, at this time, you came here to recharge and take a break from the exhausting and busy city life; living surrounded by red, yellow, orange and brown leaves both on the trees and on the ground made this the perfect and most breath-taking opportunity to do so, even if it was only for the weekends.

The day had started off quietly. An amazing breakfast, a cup of coffee and a good book. It was tranquil, idyllic… the land around you beautiful and peaceful—that was until you suddenly spotted a body lying on the ground not too far from your cabin. You gasped, an ice cold shiver running down your spine as you hurried to put on your jacket and then stormed outside in midst of the forest.

It was a he. A handsome, outrageously good looking he. Sharp cheekbones, a beautiful face… a thin but well-trained body… biting your lower lip, you touched him gently. Still warm. And there was a pulse. You breathed out relieved. He was alive then.

So why was he unconscious? Your eyes scanned his heavenly body, searching for any injuries. Once more you gasped. His dark blue shirt was drenched in blood. You had to help him. You knew what injuries like these could cause in the woods. He could be dead before dusk—if he didn’t bleed out, surely a wolf or another wild animal would claim him.

Taking another deep breath to gather your strength, you bent down to grab his upper arms and pull him inside.

He was heavy. Heavy enough your back hurt when you had finally managed to lift him on your sofa.

Carefully, you lifted up his shirt, your mouth watering despite all the blood. God, he truly was hot. You could see his abs heaving with every ragged breath he took.

But now you had to work quickly—and you were beyond grateful for that first aid crash course you had enrolled for a year ago. You knew what to do.

Fortunately, the wound wasn’t too deep, no stitches necessary. Thank God he was unconscious when you dipped some gauze into disinfecting alcohol solution from your first aid kit and began to treat him with a sigh.

James Conrad woke with a start, stinging pain rippling through his abdomen when he tried to sit up. The last thing he remembered was the bear that had caught him off guard. He had known how to react correctly but in surprise, he slipped on the moist leaves.

A sharp rock must have bored itself into his flesh, the blood loss and his head hitting the ground knocking him out.

He was lucky to still be alive. Where the hell was he, anyway?

The cosy room he was in was not a hospital, it much reminded him of a cabin instead. A fire was crackling in the background, a blanket draped over his form.

He turned his head when he heard silent footsteps on the carpet, laying his eyes upon a beautiful young woman. His rescuer, most likely.

“Hey… I found you in the woods, bleeding to death.” You explained shyly, smiling down at him in the process. It was an old tick, really—being all timid around men you found handsome and attractive.

The stranger in front of you swallowed. Once again, he attempted to sit up, this time succeeding after a pitiful grunt of pain.

“Where am I?” His voice was low, velvety and pleasant to the ear. A shiver ran down your spine.

“In my cabin, not far from where you passed out. I always come here on the weekends in autumn.”

“I presume you were the one who patched me up?”

You nodded, your gaze becoming thoughtful. “What happened to you?”

“I’m a tracker,” he growled, his face distorting upon another wave of pain. Quickly, you handed him the painkillers you had been sure he’d need. He took them and swallowed them without hesitation. “Two weeks ago, a thirteen year old girl disappeared in these woods while taking her dog for a walk. The police couldn’t find her and her parents are devastated.”

“Oh… I see… how did you get hurt?”

“A bear surprised me and I slipped. Simply an unlucky fall.”

You frowned. You knew there were bears in this region, of course. They usually didn’t mind the few humans passing by though. “Did the bear attack you?”

The stranger shook his head. “I’ve dealt with worse…”

Instantly, his thoughts appeared to drift away, somewhere you were unable to follow him.

“A-anyway, I’m (Y/N). You… feel free to stay for as long as you need to heal.”

“James Conrad, decommissioned British SAS officer.” He held out his hand and when you took it to shake it politely, his skin touching yours felt like your whole hand igniting. Your heart skipped a beat, even more so when his piercing blue eyes locked with yours and studied you for an intense moment. “Thank you for the offer but I’m not staying. I need to find that girl.”

“In this condition? You’ll get yourself killed! Not to mention the animals that will smell the blood on you.”

Conrad paused. You were right. It was indeed risky to return to the woods with his injury. But the girl’s safety was at risk too. He did not dare think she might be dead already. He had lost one innocent soul once and he would not let it happen again. He had to leave—and you could see the determination sparkling in his eyes.

“At least stay the night and recover. It’ll be dark soon.”

James, much to your surprise, obeyed. After the sun had disappeared, he took the freedom of helping you prepare supper despite his wound. The painkillers had worked wonders, yet you chided him for not staying on the sofa to rest.

You could tell, clearly, that he had indeed been through much worse. Surely, this marked man had uncountable stories to tell. So you didn’t object.

“Why do you spend your weekends in a cabin in the woods all on your own?” He asked all the while chopping vegetables on the counter next to you.

“Work life is busy. I’m a junior sales executive, the job gets rather exhausting after a while. I love what I’m doing, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I need to… just breathe a little.”

Ever since he had told you about the girl who had gone missing, you were a little worried though. What if some cold-blooded murderers roamed these woods, in search of their next victim? What if they had abducted her and now kept her as some kind of sex slave underground?

All of a sudden, you were glad for James’s presence—you would be for as long as it lasted. Who knew? Perhaps in a few weeks’ time, you could meet again for a cup of coffee. Without one party having been severely injured and on the brink of death.

“James, uh… do you have any idea why this girl disappeared? Are there any theories?”

“You’re concerned.” He stated unfazed, without looking up from the chopped vegetables. Apparently, he was excellent at reading people too.

“A little… these woods… they’ve always been safe, you know. In fact, I’ve always felt much safer and more secure here than in the city.”

“That’s reasonable. Here, let me.” James stopped you when you attempted to lift the griddle off the fridge as you were too small to reach it yourself. Usually, you’d get a chair and climb on it.

“Thank you.” Watching his muscles flex for just a brief precious moment, you distracted yourself by pouring the potatoes you had cut into slices onto it and then seasoned them with some salt, pepper and rosemary. Along with the rice and the vegetables James had cut, this supper would be simple but amazing. You didn’t bring too much food with you on the weekends, after all.

“The police are groping in the dark. For all they know, Lucy was attacked by one of the bears or she, like myself, slipped somewhere, hit her head…” And in that case, she’s unlikely still alive, he added mutely. “Still, you can’t rule out the possibility she was indeed kidnapped. Her parents told me she took her dog for a walk at the same time of the day all week long, taking the same route. That would make her an easy target.”

You swallowed. “I see…”

“How long are you staying?” His expression was genuine. He cared.

“I’m leaving on Sunday evening but I’ll come back next weekend. It’ll be the last before it’s too cold anyway. The chimney is fine to heat the cabin with but it takes quite a while to get out here by foot.”

Though as of right now, you were unsure whether you should.

James and you chatted throughout the entire evening. You got to know him better, his motives, his thoughts, his morals. He had indeed seen terrible things, done terrible things, too. And he had been involved in the expedition to Skull Island, that uncharted piece of land still a mystery to the rest of the world. He would not utter a single word about it.

With every word he did speak though, you began falling for him a little more. How likely would that be? That you’d find an injured man all alone in the forest, treated his wounds and then took a serious liking into him?

“I haven’t properly thanked you yet.” He began when you returned from the bathroom wearing your sleep wear. The coffee this morning wasn’t nearly enough, all the excitement of potentially having saved a life today tearing on your energy. You were tired.

A smile spread on your lips, your heart speeding up. “You’re welcome, James. I was planning on watching a movie before bed. Would you like to join me?” Your TV truly was the only luxury in this cabin. Acquiring the electricity for it had been tricky but you were proud of the outcome.

“What kind of movie?”

“Well… Halloween is coming up. How about something spooky?” And the background noises of the TV would make you fall asleep easier. You didn’t tell him that, of course.

If anything, James Conrad was restrained, surrounded by a hard, impenetrable shell. He was warming up to you, slowly but surely and with that, melted your own timidity.

You picked a movie from the stash you had brought on your first weekend, with James disappearing in the kitchen to prepare some tea for you two. It was a simple gesture, one he could not help. It had been a while since the last time he was with a woman—a woman he was undoubtedly interested in.

It was so simple, so raw. You, wearing an oversized shirt and fluffy socks, your hair in a bun and wearing no make-up. So natural and somehow… vulnerable—and that, compared with the fact you had saved his life today—made you seem so incredibly strong and independent he felt his heart beating faster upon laying his eyes on you.

Carefully, so he wouldn’t trigger any pain, he sat down, putting the steaming mugs on the coffee table.

It didn’t take you long to get sleepy as soon as you hit play, once again grateful to fate for having brought a mysterious and handsome man to your doorstep. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto his shoulder and you drifted off into dreamland.

James smiled to himself. It was a strange and unusual way to meet a woman—but certainly, he was not going to complain. It would be irresponsible of him not to make sure you were safe and sound when you came back here next weekend.

He’d pay you a visit, hoping that by that time, he’d already have found the girl and could relax, preferably, with you in his arms. But for now, he pressed a tender kiss on your head before carrying you to bed.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#james conrad #james conrad imagine #james conrad x you #james conrad x reader #captain james conrad #captain james conrad imagine #captain james conrad x you #captain james conrad x reader #captain james conrad fluff #james conrad fluff #kong skull island #kong skull island imagine #tom hiddleston

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hardyimagines · 6 years

Text

Part 1 — Mr. Ferguson

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I got a request for John Fitzgerald Where the reader hides as a boy in there group and he finds out when he sees her in the middle of the night by the lake and the next day he is giving her a hard time .. until he says to her that he knows her secret and he thinks that she beautiful and etc 🙈

— @meer0rauschen

Warnings: mention of deceased animals

Word count: 5.8k

Part 2

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Your name was Ferguson. William Ferguson. Well, at least it was the name you used as a cover. You were a part of a group who trapped animals, for many different reasons, be it for their fur so you could have a source of warmth in the harsh snow, strictly for hunting, for food, or for the purpose of trade. This was a ‘men’s only’ thing though and they’d never let you be a part of it if they knew your little secret. Being a woman meant you were suppose to stay home, indoors, cooking and cleaning and doing whatever other chores required your service. That wasn’t you, though. You weren’t a housemaid. You were a human being with wants and nobody to stop you from tagging along. You had no mother or father left to halt you from going on this journey, so you took it upon yourself to disguise yourself as a male and join Andrew Henry’s group. You’d joined the group a few months ago, spending your nights, curled up inside of the steel boat that steered along stream and your days were spent on foot, hunting. Nobody talked to you much, excluding the leader, Andrew Henry. He was a nice man, very tall. He had red hair, though it didn’t burn bright like a fire, radiating warmth, it was a soft color, resembling an orange that’d been sprinkled with yellow. Nights like tonight, when you were too far away from the boat, were spent laying on the pelts that the men, and yourself, had collected over the last few days. The pelts were used as blankets and as beds, laid out over the cold snow to prevent each person from having to sleep with their head in the ice. Fitzgerald had the most pelts and you often found yourself watching the way he hunted. He was very skilled and knew exactly what he was doing. Nobody got in his way purposefully, but if anyone did, even if it was accidental, it was them that he’d be skinning. You’d seen him scalp a man blindly. The darkness had swallowed the entirety of your men that night, hiding you, but the moonlight poured between the trees and illuminated Fitzgerald, swiping his knife smoothly over the man’s head. Nobody complained. The man had been a stranger and the group didn’t take risks. Killing an unknown, possible thief, scavenging for items he could take instead of trade for, was better than losing a member of the group’s life. You were drawn out of your thoughts when Fitzgerald stood and muttered something about going to the bathroom. The men were huddled around in a circle, discussing which direction would be best to head, but you didn’t have any input. Each time you’d try and offer some advice, the men would point out that you were good at hunting, but you had no experience with maps. You did. But these gentlemen were stubborn and didn’t want anyone’s opinion except for Glass’s.

The day before, many of the men had been killed. The Arikara Indians had caught your slumbering lot off guard and when the bows began flying through the air, piercing anyone and everyone, you’d all took off running toward the boat. The water was ice cold as it sloshed against your skin, weighing you down as your clothes grew heavier, but you pushed on. Bridger helped you, knowing you were the youngest, and smallest, he dragged you alongside him, before helping you into the boat. Fitzgerald was already inside, leaning over the edge to grip on to men who needed help. You were drawn over the side and into the vessel. You lingered in the man’s arms for only a second before dipping inside as you were instructed to do. Now, as all of you stood in a circle, discussing which way was best to go, it was silent. “I think we should head back. We’ve got enough pelts for trade and we can always come out and get more.” Bridger offered, scratching the back of his neck with his short nails. Henry directed his gaze to the boy before looking back to Glass. “No. It’s not time to head back yet. We’ve got one more day to go and then we will head back.” Glass muttered. You rolled your eyes lightly before settling down on a snow-covered boulder. Your shoulders hunched forward, eyes growing slightly distant. Fitzgerald dropped down at your side before handing you the canteen he held in his hand. “Here.” You lifted your gaze to him briefly before gratefully taking the rusted can. Lifting it to your lips, you took a small sip. You weren’t greedy. You knew the other men needed some too. Handing the canteen back to John, he squinted down at you. “Not much of a talker, are you? I think I’ve only heard you speak twice the whole time Ive known you. You’re always whispering.” He sighed, leaning back against the tree behind the pair of you. Your shoulders lifted in a shrug, telling the man that that was all the response he was going to get. He opened his mouth to pry further, but henry’s loud voice filled the area. “Let’s go!” Every person grabbed what they could carry, bags filled with pelts, others filled with food, most men carried a gun on their shoulder. You leaned over, grabbing the bag beside your feet. John had offered you a gun a few times before, but you shook your head. You were liable to shoot yourself. All you needed was your knife.

Days seemed to drag on when you had nothing to do. Hunting sometimes took days because the animals were burrowed away, sleeping. You’d come across one bear, but her cubs were beside her, so you’d convinced the group to leave her be. Though you’d received multiple looks of confusion, the men eventually listened before continuing on their way. Fitzgerald was walking behind you, eyes flickering along the trees. “Why do you care so much about a mama bear? What’s the difference? All the animals you’re wearing right now could’ve had babies somewhere waiting.” You kept your eyes low and feet moving. “Well, I don’t know that for a fact. But seeing a mother with her cubs doesn’t seem like the ideal animal to kill and it’s not right.” You mumbled. The man grunted. “Maybe you’re with the wrong group then.” He side-stepped you, but you caught his arm and drew him back. “If you want to kill the mama bear and cubs, then go. Otherwise, stop talking about it. You always want to cause problems.” The man stared at you in shock, brows lifted and hand tightening around the gun he cradled. He was silent so you smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Daytime didn’t last long around these parts, so it wasn’t long before the group was settling down. “Only a little bit of sunlight left boys. Go down to the water and wash off.” Glass and his son, Hawk, went first. Then Anderson, a kind gent, and Henry. Bridger, second youngest, refused to go, insisting it was unnecessary, so that just left you and Fitzgerald. The man was already headed down the hill and toward the water. You weren’t going to bathe, not now, but at least you could keep lookout while john did what he needed to do. The fur coat fell from his body with a thud when his large hands shoved it to the snow and he was very quick with his movements. He knelt down beside the water, opening the front of his shirt simultaneously after removing his gloves. The cold liquid was splashed on to his form, running along his toned chest hurriedly. He looked to you when you made no movement to clean up. “What are you doing?” He muttered, dragging off his purple shirt fully. The wind was cold and it burned his flesh, but at this point he was use to it. He’d feel fine once he pulled the fur back on and sat in front of the fire. “I don’t.. need to wash up right now. Just didn’t want you going alone.” The man grunted quietly before slowly moving his hands to his trousers. “Well, are you just gonna watch me?” His tone was accusing and impatient, waiting for you to look away. The snow was beginning to fall harder and you didn’t want to make things difficult for him, so you turned. Back to him, you studied the hills that overlooked the stream. A dull thud met your ears and then the sloshing of the water. Your cheeks turned red. He was naked. Fitzgerald was quick in the water, shivering within seconds of being submerged. He scrambled out audibly and when you turned to offer him a cloth that was used to dry off with, you reddened further. He wasn’t ugly at all and you couldn’t help but ogle him. His chest was tight and firm looking, his muscles were full, not big and bursting, but you had to force yourself not to bite your lip. You didn’t dare look further than his belly and he, noting your stare, hurriedly pulled the cloth from you so he could dry off.

When the two of you arrived back to the group, they had pelts laid out across the ground ready to be slept on. This was the fourth night in a row. Everyone got situated in front of the growing fire, allowing the hot heat to run along their bodies as they all shut their eyes and went to sleep. The sun was gone now, casting you all in a sheet of darkness. Usually, one man would stay awake to keep a lookout, so, since you and Hawk were the only two left awake, as usual, a little while later, you ushered to him and then shifted. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You whispered softly. He nodded once. Fitzgerald stirred lightly, but didn’t wake. He was pressed up against a large tree, head hanging forward as he slept in a, what seemed to be, uncomfortable position. You briefly halted. Taking an extra pelt out of the bag to your left, you laid it out on the snow beside him and slowly leaned his body over so he was laying in a better position. He was definitely needed in the group and if he woke up with a stiff neck and aching back, you knew the group would be in a little trouble. He did a lot of the heavy lifting. Your boots scuffed against the snow as you made your way through the trees and only a little ways away from the fire. Squatting down, you pushed your trousers to your feet. You hadn’t been able to pee all day. You couldn’t stand like the men did and you couldn’t let them see you bent over in this way, so you held it from morning to night. Breathing a loud sigh of relief, you slowly stood back up and made your way down the hill and toward the water to get cleaned up as quickly as you could. Hawk wouldn’t be able to say anything to anyone about you returning wet and if he told his dad, well glass wouldn’t question it either. He didn’t have any problems with you. He trusted you. Now that you were alone by the stream, you could properly wash yourself.

Your fingers pinched the coat on your shoulders, dragging it off of your body. You threw it down in the snow before removing your hat and laying it down at well. The pin that held your hair up was removed in one swift movement, locks darkened with only the glow of the moonlight shining down on you. Your fingers slid to your shirt, eyes sliding around the perimeter. God, you hoped nobody was watching. Back at the fire, Fitzgerald had been awake the second you’d moved him. He didn’t take kindly to being touched, so he, being such a light sleeper, was brought out of his slumber when you tried to put him in a more comfy placement. His eyes were glued to hawk and because he didn’t want to be the only one awake with the boy, he stood from his position and set off to find you. The branches beneath his feet crunched quietly, so he had to walk along the edge of the mountain he was on. It was all snow. His footsteps were silent and soft as he walked along, blue eyes squinting lightly as he peered out at the stream. The moonlight shone down on you, revealing every inch of you to him. You were clothed still, but he was mesmerized simply by the way you looked beneath the moonlight. Course, he hadn’t realized that you, in fact, were William Ferguson. His hand slid along the tree beside him, watching you curiously. The second you began to roll your shirt up though, he stepped on a branch and the loud noise caught your attention. Whirling around, you peered up at the darkness, but it was too difficult to see from your position. The moon was too blinding.

John Fitzgerald had a perfect view though. Your face was illuminated by the white glow and he recognized you then, instantly. He’d spent countless nights looking over his men and he’d be lying if he denied the fact that his stare had lingered on you a bit longer than the others. Now he knew why. His jaw popped and he slowly backed up. William Ferguson was a woman. Turning on his heel, he moved back toward the fire and toward his pelt to lay down and act as if he hadn’t seen anything. It wasn’t his business. That was yours.

You scrambled nervously for your clothing. Dragging it back on, you figured you could take a bath another night. You didn’t know when but.. eventually. Practically running back to safety where all the men were sleeping, you dropped down beside Fitzgerald, breaths heavy and loud. He pretended to stir, arm folding beneath his head. “Alright?” He grumbled in question, eyes remaining closed. You, hand on your heavily beating heart, nodded gently before pursing your lips. “Yeah.. yeah, I think I heard something though.” You told him softly. “There’s nobody out here, right, just us. Stop being so paranoid Ferguson, lay down and get some sleep.” You didn’t. Someone was out there. Someone had seen you, you knew it. You just didn’t know it had been the very man at your side.

It was impossible to stay up all night for you. You’d been on your feet all day, just like the others had been. You were just as drained and exhausted as the men. Your small body fell toward Fitzgerald, head situating on his shoulder. He didn’t budge the entire time. His eyes would flicker to you, but he’d had at least four hours of sleep and that was all he needed. He was on watch now. Shifting slowly at your side, he wrapped his arm around you carefully, but ensured her could yank back if need be. He wasn’t sure why this changed anything. So what? You were female. You’d survived out here with them for months. You were very capable of taking care of yourself and even though he knew that, he couldn’t help the growth of defensiveness that welled inside him. He’d protect you. He promised silently.

Morning came around quicker than anyone would’ve liked. When you woke. Fitzgerald was gone and so was Henry. Most men were already up on their feet, packing away their belongings. Nobody had woken you though. Your small hands slid to your gloves, tucked away beneath your pelt. You pushed them on to your small palms before rising along with the others. Everyone looked exhausted, but why wouldn’t they? They’d slept on the ground all night. You were sure you looked the same. The second you dragged your bag on to your back, an arrow flew past the side of your head, stabbing the tree to your right. Your eyes tripled in size, head spinning over your shoulder to eye the Indians. “Run!” You shouted loudly. Every man surrounding you directed their gaze toward you, eyes tripling in size as they spotted the arrow. Pelts were snatched up as quickly as they could, but it was too much weight. You took off running, trying to wrap your pelt around you as you went. Fitzgerald and Henry were dead ahead, approaching you and the rest of the men as you scattered.

Glass clutched on to Hawk and they bolted toward the water. Anderson was hot on their heels. He was the only one who bothered to try and gather the items you and the men had spent days collecting. Your small hands curled around as much as you could, dragging it along hurriedly as you moved toward the water. Your face was red from the frustration and weight of the bags. Fitzgerald was at your side in seconds. He lifted all three bags on to his shoulder before ushering for you to go. “Go, Ferguson- go!” You didn’t. Snatching up another bag and then the rest of the pelts, you lugged everything along, running alongside the larger man toward the boat.

Anderson was helping men into the boat, but when the Indians began shooting toward the only means of transportation, everyone took cover inside. John lifted himself easily into the boat, leaning over the edge so he could grab on to you. His large hands wrapped around your small arms and he smoothly hoisted you up and into the boat. You, relieved, fell against him for a few seconds before ducking down behind a box. Your hand gripped on to his arm, dragging him down as Henry began to fire blindly toward the approaching men. The boat began to move and you couldn’t express how thankful you were. John heaved a soft sigh. The two of you were tucked away from all the other men and you didn’t even let yourself wonder why he was allowing you to be so close to him. Leaning back, he rubbed down his face. “You alright?” He muttered to you. “I told you to run. Why did you stop for the pelts?” He pushed on, not even giving you a chance to respond to his first question. You cleaned your neck, eying him. “We didn’t do all that hunting, just to leave it all behind.” He tongued his cheek before rising. “Stay here.” He got up and moved into the interior of the boat. His voice was loud, booming and overall terrifying. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but you were sure he was just chewing the men out for leaving all the belongings behind. He stayed inside for ten minutes, voice never-ending.

Henry looked toward you before smiling lightly. “Youll get an award for your bravery.” He tipped his head toward you before moving inside to calm John down. “Go outside and clam down.” He muttered. Fitzgerald didn’t need to be told again. Making his way back out to the ledge, he held the railing and shut his eyes. You eyed him curiously. “Hey.. it’s alright, we got it all, didn’t we?” You questioned before standing so you could move toward him. He spun around just as you were directly in front of him. “Yeah, thanks to you.” He grunted before shifting. He couldn’t let you know he knew you were a girl. “Great job.” He muttered shoving you lightly. Slipping past you, he sat down on a box and got comfy. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, eyes lowering to your feet. The boat continued along stream, taking you to your destination. It was time to go home, but it would take two days meaning you had to spend one more night in the woods with a fire. You’d freeze to death on the boat. The day went by even slower than the last, but you were lost in your thoughts, so grateful that there had be no casualties from the attack. The day was spent finding a safe and secure area for rest. You, once again, found yourself in front of a fire, the men all sat in a circle around the burning heat.

The fire in the center crackled softly, little sparks breaking off of the flame to float away in the night air. Your eyes glistened beneath the burning light as they drifted along the men. They were all illuminated by the gentle glow, skin burning orange as they slept close to the fire. Nobody was rude to you, ever, but it was because you kept your mouth shut and never tried to start any drama. Hawk was sat close to his father. The boy was hunched over his crossed legs, brown eyes stuck on the fire as Anderson, added another log to the center. The flames ate away feverishly at the wood, briefly catching your attention before you looked to Hawk’s father. Glass was sound asleep. His head was nestled into the warmth of the fur coat beneath him. You’d assumed the grey hair was from a fox, but you hadn’t seen any around. Bears were most common to come across.

You didn’t have time to think further for you were drawn from your thoughts when Fitzgerald came up behind you, voice low. “You, Ferguson, come here.” Your ears twitched at the name before you slowly craned your neck. Anderson and Hawk were the only other two awake and since Hawk barely spoke any English, and Fitzgerald didn’t like him, you assumed you were the only one he could call on. Anderson was half asleep now, so you pushed yourself up and off of the pelt before moving toward the man. It seemed like he was a whole foot taller than you, but you figured that was probably a little exaggerated. “I need your help.” He grunted. His large hand, covered with a handmade glove, reached around you to retrieve the gun he had leant against a tree. He hoisted it up and settled it on his shoulder before moving off through the trees. You followed close behind, tempted to grip on to his arm so you wouldn’t lose him in the darkness, but you’d gripped on to Bridger before and he’d given you the strangest look. He was the kindest one of the group, so if he found it odd how clingy you were, you knew the other men would as well.

The snow crunched softly beneath your boots and you realized then, as the cold ice kissed your cheeks and danced along your eyelashes, it hadn’t stopped snowing and wouldn’t any time soon. You, lost in your thoughts again, hadn’t realized that Fitzgerald had halted so you stumbled into the back of him with a quiet oof. He craned his neck to peer down at you, large hand steadying your arm before he grunted. “I should’ve left you back there, I forgot how much of a clutz you are.” He grunted before lowering himself down. You arched a brow at his words and then lifted your other as he sat down. “Why did you bring me all the way up here?” You inquired, voice a quiet whisper so he couldn’t pick out the tone of your voice. That was another reason you weren’t talkative. Your attempt at a deep, male impression wasn’t very good. “Be quiet.” He muttered firmly before licking his lips. You lowered yourself down beside him obediently before peering out at the water as it loudly raced downstream. Your small hands were visible in the moonlight and you’d realized then, as you stared down at your dainty fingers, that you’d taken off your gloves to hover your numb fingers over the fire. Everyone had been asleep except for the two who couldn’t see you that well. Now, here you were with Fitzgerald, the most observant man there ever was. Your hand lifted to your wool hat, adjusting it so he couldn’t see your features. Examining your face, along with your hands, would make it too obvious that you, in fact, weren’t a man. Fitzgerald pointed the head of his gun toward a small figure, moving toward the water. “Look.” He grunted. “I think it’s an animal.” You leaned forward, eyes squinting lightly so you could see better. The tree beside you seemed stable enough, although thin, it was tall. You leaned into it, studying eyes latched on to the figure, almost making it out to actually be a person, before the tree snapped and you tumbled forward. The small scream that had built in your throat hadn’t had a chance to escape for Fitzgerald, on instinct, had gripped you smoothly and easily. His hand curled around the back of your coat, yanking you back and down into the snow beneath you. The cold ice pressed into the skin of your neck and hands as you dropped down on your back and heaved a slow sigh of relief. “It’s a man.” You mumbled to John, hands lifting to your face so you could rub away the embarrassment. He wasn’t looking at you. “It’s not a man, you’re a fool, that is an animal, walking on all fours.” You scoffed before sitting up. “Do you always have to be right? It’s not an animal, it’s a fucking man.” You pushed yourself up to stand above John, but he followed suit. He towered above you. His form was so big and broad that you cowered away slightly beneath his hard stare. “I’m sorry, Fitzgerald.. I- I just don’t think that’s an animal.”

The man wasn’t sure, and he never would be, why when you backed away from him he felt bad, but he did. Clearing his throat, he looked away from you and instead out at the stream. The figure was gone. “Well, doesn’t matter now, boy, you’ve wasted my damn time. Pointless asking for your help, wasn’t it.” He moved past you angrily and you struggled to rush after him. His long legs moved much faster than your small ones and his coat probably didn’t weigh him down as much as yours did. “Wait!” You pleaded, hand blindly searching in the dusky night for the man. He, suddenly feeling very annoyed with how dependent you were, spun around. His large hand curled around the cold skin of your throat, tightening. A low whimper left your lips and he squinted at the high pitched sound. His hand lifted toward your hat so he could push it to the side, but you did the only thing you could think to do. Shoving him angrily away, you blindly set off toward the designated area, halting only when the man called after you, his voice slightly distant. “Wrong fucking way, Ferguson.” Your eyes dropped, disappointed in yourself. You couldn’t even remember where set up was.

A harsh blow to the back of your head silenced your thoughts. Your body was sent barreling forward and into the snow, a low moan escaping you at the pain. A foreign voice speaking a different language pierced the air around you. There was no point in keeping quiet now. You flipped yourself over and on to your back, knees bending so you could push yourself away from the approaching figures. “Fitzgerald!” You shouted loudly, not bothering to even attempt to disguise your voice. “Fitz-“ The man in front of you dropped down on to his knees, roughly pushing you down and into the snow. His hand lifted to your hat, moving it away from your eyes so he could see you more clearly. You couldn’t understand the men. They sounded like they were speaking French. “Get off!” You kicked harshly at the man who pressed your body more firmly into the ground, his knees either side of your hips. The other man simply stood there, his dark eyes roaming the length of you. The fur coat which had been keeping you cozy was being so easily removed from your body as he shoved it off your shoulders and the cold wasted no time before attacking your skin. How could they tell you were a woman? You supposed your scream have you away. Your call for John Fitzgerald. Yes. They probably would’ve just robbed you of your pelt and then you could’ve been on your way, but your out cry had revealed your soft, feminine voice.

John hovered behind a tree, his menacing eyes gliding between the men who stood over you. His hand tightened around his gun, thumb gliding along the length of it before he slowly lowered his eyes, ensuring he had two bullets. That was all he needed. He lifted the shotgun up and aimed it smoothly at the man’s head who was kneeling down on top of your small form. He planned it in his head before following through. He’d take out the one on the ground and then the one who stood, watching. Then, the two of you had to run. You shut your eyes tightly, small hands curling in the snow as the ice burned your palms. Your throat burned more though, screams trapped inside your body as the hot tears ran along your cheeks.

A loud shot fired and the man on top of you fell in one movement. Your eyes widened further, fear draining from you as you realized Fitzgerald was near. Only his gun sounded like that. It had an odd pop at the end from where it had been jammed from a bear. Another loud shot and the man, stood near the cliff, fell, lifeless, over the edge and toward the water. You wasted no time before wiping at the blood that had spattered across your cheeks. Adjusting your hat, you slipped slightly along the snow as you shakily stood and began to move toward the direction of the shots. John emerged from behind the tree and you swore he resembled another big oak in the darkness. His large hand curled securely around your small hand when you were close enough and he couldn’t help but pull you into him. You shut your eyes tightly, figuring that if he hadn’t known you were a woman before, he sure as hell knew now. Your body was molded around his own and you were sure he could feel the womanly curves that accompanied your form. He sighed gently, large hand lifting to remove your hat. He knew. Of course he did. But he wanted to see for himself, close up. You stared up at him, ignoring the sticky tears that were stuck to your cheeks as he lifted the fur away from your hair. He unpinned your locks and the curls fell in waves along your shoulders. “Fucking hell.” He muttered softly, eyeing you. “What?” You whispered in return, your grateful eyes gliding between his own. You felt a little comforted that you didn’t have to be a secret from EVERYONE. The man heaved a slow sigh, quiet, but heavy. “What the hell are you doing out here? Don’t you know, yeah, how dangerous this is?” You took your hat back from him and in one swift movement re-pinned your hair. Laying the hat back on top of your head, you closed your coat. “And yet, I’ve survived all this time.” John lifted a brow before looking to the dead bodies over your shoulder. “Barely.” He pointed out. You inhaled deeply, curious eyes locked on to his own. “Are you going to rat me out?” The man grunted softly. Adjusting his unloaded gun, he pinched the fabric of your coat and led you along with him, back to the fire. “No. It’s your secret, not mine.” You shifted at his side. “Yes, well, it’s yours now that you know.” He shot you a look of disapproval before coming to a halt at the pit. “Get up.” He kicked Anderson’s foot. “All of you, wake up, we got company.”

Henry opened his heavy eyes to peer up at the two of you. His eyes then moved to the other slumbering men who were foggy brained and confused. Glass rolled over to look at Hawk, looking for an answer, but when he received no reply, he looked to Fitzgerald and then to you. “What’s wrong?” Glass grumbled. Fitzgerald grunted, offering no reply to the man, though he did look to Henry and explain the situation. “We were down by the stream. I heard someone, and then on the way back to report it, we saw two Frenchmen, just hanging about.” He lied before shifting. “We didn’t hear no shots.” Anderson spoke up before standing and dragging on his coat. “Yeah, well,” Fitzgerald shook his gun. “It’s a bit jammed still, so the sound doesn’t carry. We need to move. Now.” Nobody commented on the way he hadn’t released your coat, nor the way he led you along with him. “Upstream. Downstream is too dangerous.” You alerted him, small hand curling in the front of his fur to halt him. He looked down at you, teeth rubbing together visibly. “Upstream, lads!” He called out before continuing on. You smiled a bit triumphantly, not falling behind this time as you kept track of how quickly he moved.

Glass stayed by Hawk and Anderson moved alongside Henry. The rest of the men piled along behind, guns loaded and eyes searching. The hill was slippery, but each time you nearly lost your balance, Fitzgerald had a solid grip on you. The pair of you were glued to each other for the entire walk, arms brushing against each other, though still, nobody said anything. Did they all know? You wondered, but as you looked over your shoulder and the men held your gaze, you figured that they didn’t. “We should go to the boat.” You told Fitzgerald softly, though he didn’t cease his movements. “It’s too dangerous here. We’ll find some place safe and get to it in a bit. They’re too close to the water.” He spoke quietly, only briefly looking toward you feet not ceasing in their stride. Everyone was tired. They had to be. So you didn’t complain about all the walking. It was strange to you, how accepting John was when he found out you were a woman. He didn’t tolerate dependence. He didn’t tolerate anyone who was injured. He didn’t want anyone around who would slow him down. Yet, here you were, glued to his hip and he didn’t seem to care at all. He wasn’t a man who bit his tongue. If he had an issue, he voiced it. You couldn’t help but feel very safe all of a sudden. You were sure John Fitzgerald would always have your back.

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