#View from an Oak Tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karinasbaby · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — BED 박성훈

"strawberry lingerie, waiting for you strawberries, lingerie."

PAIRING: fiance!sunghoon x fem!reader (17+)

WARNING: pool sex, breath play, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, make out sessions, hickeys, cursing, petnames, lots of praising cuz he's in love, semi public sex?, slight shower sex, jealous & possessive hoon, jake makes a mini appearance, so does winter (aespa), and so does hee, my miserable attempt at angst & fluff, food play, oral (f), breeding, mentions of pregnancy and slight lactation kink, just nasty stuff.

WORD COUNT: 7.8k (what.)

SYNOPSIS: your fiance, sunghoon insisted on a "mini honeymoon" before your wedding preparations took over your time, so how would your day go now that you're on an island thousands of miles away from home with sunghoon?

A. NOTE: hey y'all.. surprise ! idk what this is either all that i know is that i've had this idea for months, anyways this is for all my hoon stans and babygirls i love you. (i apologise from the bottom of my heart for making jake a a fucking CREEP but someone had to be sacrifcied :( i love u jake <3)

"got a kiss with your name on it,"

you and sunghoon have been in a relationship for the past four years, being with sunghoon truly was a blessing as he was an incredibly understanding, attentive, caring and a very loving boyfriend.

to put it short he is a real sweetheart,

your personality mixed and clashed with his perfectly, time spent with sunghoon flew by without either of you noticing, it felt like you've known each other for decades though its only been a handful of years,

so when sunghoon finally proposed to you, practically everyone saw it coming from miles away, to the point where sunghoon had some 'finally!'s thrown into his congratulations from his friends and family after you broke down the elating news,

both of you were over the moon after his proposal as you two were officially together and were on the gates of being a newly wed couple where you both vow for life to each other,

and before both of you got distracted by the big day preparations, sunghoon so generously insisted on a 'mini honeymoon' before the stress and tiring days of the preparations swooped both of you away from each other for weeks, maybe even months.

which is how you found yourself in this predicament, pushing inside your suitcase after sunghoon's on the dark oak floors of the forest facing house that sunghoon rented for the rest of the week, taking in the dark and wooden interior along with the floor to ceiling windows that exposed the kitchen accompanied by the living room to the forest, you could also see a mini pool placed right outside the balcony,

before you could bring back your attention to your suitcase and explore the rooms, you felt a familiar pair of hands snaking around your waist, sunghoon's arms wrapped around you delicately, keeping you in a strong hold as he whispered into your ear, "like the view baby?"

"i love it," you whispered back, your eyes entranced by the view of the sunrise peeking behind the dark green leaves of the massive pine trees decorating the vast land of the forest in large masses, the sky being painted in multitude shades of pink and orange, each colour reflected off your face beautifully as sunghoon's loving eyes gazed at your pleased expression,

smiling happily at your words and satisfaction, he loved making you happy.

"go into the pool first, i'll join you in a minute, angel." he spoke against your ear before placing a gentle kiss onto your temple, his warm embrace untangling from around you, nodding at his words before walking towards the glass door, as you slid it open to allow the warm breeze to brush against your skin, you stripped completely before advancing into the lukewarm water, soft crystal ripples surrounding your frame while you edged towards the corner of the pool,

peering at the sunrise from the parted branches as the light mirrored against the surface of the water around you, your heart drummed against your chest as this was the first of many upcoming vacations that you were to venture out on alone with sunghoon, excitement bubbling in you at the possibility of all events that could unfold with your lover,

before your thoughts and imagination trailed further, you heard his footsteps approaching you, walking next to the pool as you took in his larger frame gazing at you, "what a sight to walk into," he breathed out while you chuckled at his words, signaling him to join you with a motion of your fingers making him waste no time in stripping himself bare, his hoodie and sweatpants along with underwear discarded carelessly around the balcony as he allowed your eyes to take him in all his glory,

the sight of his sculpted body bare for your eyes never failed to make you blush, sunghoon dipped into the water his body approaching yours in a blur, arms wrapping around your body as he closed off all possible space between the two of you, he breathed out a sigh of relief at the calming feeling of your body so close to his,

"i can't wait to spend the whole week with you, baby" he spoke out amidst him placing his head on your shoulder gently, your hands on instinct trailed around his shoulders, softly massaging his skin beneath your fingers while his lips brushed against your neck with each word,

his body heat making yours warmer in the cool water as you smiled at his words, "yeah? what are your plans?" replying back to him while you busied yourself with pulling at the shorter hairs along his nape faintly, "i'm keeping them as surprises" he responded while smiling, you paused your touches making him blink up at your faux pouting expression, "at least tell me one?" you asked, blinking through your eyelashes at him in hopes of convincing him, sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully before his gaze darkened,

his hold on your waist tightening whilst he pushed ever inch of his body against yours, "hold your breath for me, angel," he spoke lowly, inching his face closer to yours making you close your eyes as his lips brushed against yours, you breathed in a deep breath, following his words, "let's see how long you can last" was the last thing he spoke out before he dragged both of your bodies beneath the slightly cooled water,

goosebumps arose on your skin at the feeling of the colder water engulfing your body entirely contrasting the feeling of sunghoon's warmer body that he pressed against you, the moment both of you had sunk down, sunghoon dipped his head towards your lips, you held yourself from gasping out as his soft pillowy lips pressed firmly against yours,

sunghoon going far enough to teasingly lick your bottom lip, the lack of oxygen had your head spinning while he still held you beneath the water, clearly testing your limits as one of hands untied from your waist and began to delicately fondle your breast, his fingers brushing against your hardened nipple as he continued to taunt your body while you began to squirm in his hold,

seconds marched by as you felt a burning sensation spread over your chest while sunghoon's hand dipped lower, brushing pleasantly at your soaked folds, the feeling of his hands caressing and fondling your skin combined with the absence of air made your head spin, your dizziness increasing at the feeling of sunghoon's lips part from yours only to lower and bite at your neck whilst his finger was poking teasingly at your entrance,

with the burning sensation on your chest increasing, you pinched his arm as you felt your chest constricting, sunghoon hastily loosened his hold before he allowed both of your bodies to float towards the surface, gasping in desperation as you heaved in air, sunghoon himself breathing heavily against you as he grounded himself from his own lightheadedness, "didn't last that long, huh?" he mockingly asked as if he wasn't breathing in heaves of air,

"didn't expect your 'plans' to include murdering me" you replied back, closing your eyes in attempts to regulate your breathing while sunghoon chuckled against your neck, before sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, "i have other plans now, baby," he spoke lowly,

not giving you the chance to speak, sunghoon pushed his body against yours completely for a second time, this time allowing his hardened length that was standing proudly against his lower stomach to press against your abdomen, gasping quietly at his movements, sunghoon's hands loosened from around you, "come help me with my plan now, angel," sunghoon said as he leaned against the wall of the pool, resting his elbows in the edge behind him as water droplets cascaded down from his dark wet locks down to his broad chest,

the sight of his hooded gaze peeking at you through his strands almost made your knees buckle, you followed after him, sunghoon's love filled eyes following your every move as you stood in front of him, his frame towering over yours once you wrapped your hands around his neck to kiss him properly this time,

connecting your lips to his tenderly made sunghoon's hands drop from the edge to grip on your hips, nails digging into your skin when you began to suck on his bottom lip, altering from gently biting his lip to swallowing all of his low moans, whilst you busied yourself with his mouth, sunghoon's hand went lower to hold onto the back of your thigh,

lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, the change in position allowed his rock hard length to land directly against your dripping folds, both of you moaning at the feeling of his tip pressing against your entrance, "let me hear you, darling," he spoke against your kisses, dizzy by your continued suckling on his swollen lips, you parted from his mouth to allow all of your pretty sounds that he adored to fall from your lips the moment he pushed in his tip further against your welcoming soaked walls,

lustrous half lidded eyes studied all of the expressions painting across your face at the feeling of his length invading your walls, sunghoon's jaw dropped as he mimicked your expressions, breathing heavily at your tightness engulfing him when he bottomed out completely,

his other hand wrapped around your waist to keep you in place while his other tightened around the plush skin of your thigh, frailly beginning to rock his hips against yours while moving yours to match with his soft thrusts, his lips lazily locked around your shoulders, marking the skin sweetly whilst all your groans and moans landed perfectly on his ears, his length rubbing against all of the spots that had you seeing stars before thrusting out with only the tip remaining, he repeated this routine as both of you felt your lower stomachs tightening,

impending highs creeping up on you, while sunghoon quickened his pace, his mouth now occupied with sucking dark marks along your neck, beautiful blueish red marks decorating the expanse of your chest up to your neck, occasionally biting to make you gasp adorably against his ears, he swiftly moved your other thigh to wrap around his waist, your legs easily floating and wrapping around his waist beneath the rippling water, his tip pressing against your cervix deliciously in this position making you cry out his name,

"i'm right here, angel," he spoke against your neck, hips pressing against yours harshly, sunghoon was fully hugging you now while he pounded into you, ripples gradually turning into small waves travelling across the surface of the pool as both of you neared your highs, your cries fell into his ear while his continuous praises fell against yours, your body jerked in his hold, thighs trembling around his waist as you felt your orgasm right around the corner,

"h-hoon, i'm so c-close," you mewled out as his thrusts only began to turn rougher, almost pushing him over the edge with your weak voice crying out his nickname oh so sweetly, his own body shook as he felt his climax impossibly closer, his nails digging onto every inch of skin they touched whilst you desperately held onto him,

"i've got you, angel, i'm right here, baby," he croaked out needily into your ear, his weak voice combined with his nails clawing in despair whilst he held onto you as his thrusts became sloppy and his hips trembled against yours were enough to push you over the edge, the familiar tightening of your walls when you gushed around him dragged out his climax from him in a breathtaking manner,

sunghoon instantly locked his lips onto your swollen red ones as he dipped you below the water yet again, thick ropes of white, warm cum pushed out right against your cervix as your walls clung almost painfully around his length, the sudden loss of air made both of your climaxes take entirely over your body,

clutching onto his shoulders when he continued thrusting, his tongue riskily pressing inside of your mouth as you felt dizziness take over your body from your orgasm and the cold water engulfing you, lungs burning when you felt yourself seconds away from blacking out, slipping further from reality when sunghoon's hand sneaked downwards to toy with your clit, prolonging your dizzying high even further, relishing in the way you bit down harshly at his bottom lip,

sunghoon made you both ride out your orgasms, mouth still pressed against yours while tears prickled in the corners of your closed eyes, before you could pinch him again he quickly made you rise to the surface, your weak body slumping against his as he held you up, having the audacity to chuckle breathlessly at your fucked out expression, "darling, we haven't even started yet," he spoke out as he attempted to regulate his breathing, too tired to respond you only left his comment with a harsh pinch onto his shoulders that you were holding onto, earning a pained laugh from him,

sunghoon quickly walked towards the other edge facing the house, grabbing onto the towels he discarded once he walked into the balcony, he carefully walked out of the pool with your body wrapped around his, using a towel large enough to cover your slightly shaking body to shield you from the cold breeze along with his,

"let's go shower then we'll take a nap, alright angel?" he whispered softly into your ear, hands loosening around you when you nodded against him, he walked into the shower, dark interior extending into the bathroom, he gently placed you down after he removed the soaked towel, arm wrapped around your waist in support as he stepped beneath the large rectangular shower head,

warm water cascaded down both of your cold bodies, the slight numb feeling in your fingers disappearing whilst the water poured, sunghoon's larger frame wrapped around yours, love-struck eyes entranced by the sight of your blissed out face, with your eyes closed you wrapped your arms around his waist, his length remained between your thighs as he hold you close to him, allowing your bodies to warm up,

"'did so well for me, angel" he praised, loving gaze still stuck on you as you completely clouded his thoughts, "my pretty, perfect, angel" his voice continued to spill out praises lowly, squirming in his hold at his sweet words his hold on you tightened, holding himself back from moaning once your thighs brushed against his sensitive length,

you stopped your movement once you felt his semi hard length pressing against you, frozen as you looked up at him to see sunghoon's sultry gaze already locked on yours with his face flushed, "you're so needy today," you lowered your face, chuckling against his chest, when he grumbled, "you drive me crazy, angel" he groaned out, "i can tell," you responded, sneaking your hand between your bodies you grabbed his length before placing it between your folds, "baby-" sunghoon began, wanting to protest as he didn't want to tire you out, you shushed him your your finger, rocking your hips slowly against his allowing his cock to slip against your soaked folds,

sunghoon moaned lowly at the feeling of his cum dripping out from your cunt to rub against his length, your warmth gently stroking him whilst pearly precum dripped out from his reddened tip, mixing with the water, "fuck- baby, just like that," he moaned out once you began to move quicker, clenching your thighs to squeeze his cock perfectly,

"so fucking perfect for me, angel" he began to babble out once he felt the tensing feeling in his abdomen, "every part of you is so perfect," he breathed out needily, you stared at his expressions before he threw his head back, the hot droplets landing directly on his flushed face, cascading to drip down his neck, through the dim lighting you could see the expanse of his chest revealed entirely before your hungry eyes, without a second thought you dipped towards his neck, trailing soft kisses along his pale, smooth skin making him moan breathily, "i'm so c-close, angel, keep going," he choked out, imminent climax tightening in his lower stomach familiarly, his body trembled against yours as you continued to stroke his length,

sunghoon was in pure euphoria, you continued your ministrations, completely pushing him over the edge, his grip on your hips became firmer, he began to quicken your pace even further once he felt his high wash over his shaking body fully, breathy moans echoing throughout the bathroom as his cum trickled down your inner thighs before mixing with the water, you continued kissing and sucking along his neck resulting in goosebumps appearing along his skin, his thrusts slowing gradually, his grip on you loosened while you looked up at his dazed expression, "i'm so glad i married you."

"love me good, love me down, don't turn me down,"

after your mini marathon with sunghoon, he kept his words of letting you both take a rest before doing anything else for the rest of the day, it was way past the afternoon now, the evening approaching slowly as you and sunghoon were sitting on a small towel on the beach, the sunset's colours ahead of you mirrored on you both stunningly,

vibrant lights glowed from the numerous food stands placed around the side of the beach, carrying twinkling fairy lights from all colors while on the other side you could spot bodies swaying with other bodies as the loud speakers from the stage of a mini platform blared the song of the band performing atop of it,

your eyes occupied with gazing at all the scenes unfolding ahead of you, the chatter of the small crowds from the passersby accompanied by the singing of the dancing crowd, your ears also picked up the echoing laughter of children whilst they raced away from the waves, you felt at peace in such a happy place along with your lover who was gazing at your pleased expression with his heart soaring, every color from the fairylights and the fluorescent lights reflected from your twinkling eyes that he oh so deeply adored,

sunghoon shifted your attention back to him when he laid down gingerly and placed his head on your lap, chestnut strands contrasting your white dress that you wore as they spread out graciously, tempting you to run your fingers delicately throughout his hair which you began to do subconsciously, he hummed in satisfaction at the familiar feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp gently,

"feeling tired?" you asked him quietly as you stared at his gorgeous profile, the slope of his nose seeming to be carved by a deity, his moles decorating his pale skin elegantly, his usually furrowed eyebrows relaxed with his eyes closed, breathing in the salty air around him deeply, he looked serene as he was in a state so calm and tranquil he almost felt drowsy, "a bit," he replied,

truth is, he felt himself slipping further into his drowsiness, mere seconds away from completely disconnecting and falling into pure slumber as your fingers continued to work through his strands, the sounds of the crashing waves lulling him deeper,

he, however held himself back from falling asleep, especially not when you're in a good mood and you weren't even feeling sleepy like he was, he wasn't going to allow his plans to suddenly have the opposite effect on him with you awake and him asleep, fighting against his own body, he opened his eyes, his tired gaze meeting your expectant ones, "want me to get you a drink?" you questioned,

pointing into one of the stands that appeared to be serving cocktails to the group pf adults lining as other servers leaned down, smiling as they handed a bunch of kids what appeared to be colorful drinks from all types of fruits, sunghoon quickly nodded before he pushed his body off, "don't take too long," he grumbled whilst you began to walk away from him, you only chuckled at his grumpiness,

arriving before the welcoming server who happened to be a girl slightly younger than you, you hastily ordered a non-alcoholic beverage for sunghoon knowing that him getting drunk when he's sleepy was not the best idea, as the last time it happened it somehow ended up with him sleeping on the balcony without a blanket after he refused to listen to you in his intoxicated state, which resulted in him dealing with a cold for the rest of the week, and you for sure didn't want the trip to end so quickly,

the brunette— minjeong who told you her name sweetly during your small chat with her, "you're engaged?!" she questioned, bewilderment and shock evident on her face, "but you're still so young!" she continued as you laughed at her adorable expressions before you shrugged helplessly, you still had difficulty at fully digesting and processing the fact that you were engaged as well, everyday with sunghoon passing by as a mere blur yet it was something you grew accustomed to over time, "is that him?" minjeong asked you, looking behind you at an approaching figure of a young guy,

you turned around, thinking maybe you had taken too long hence why sunghoon could possibly be behind you right now, but instead you came face to face with a guy who appeared to be around your age, blonde hair sleeked back, slightly messy from what you guessed- him running his fingers through his strands as he was literally doing it in front of you,

he was a gorgeous man, curious dark brown eyes quickly travelled your figure before he revealed a breathtaking smile, he swiftly stood besides you, facing minjeong as he blurred out a random order, after minjeong's confused eyes flickered between the both of you, she walked towards the back, momentarily disappearing from your sight, the taller man next to you accepting this as an advantage turned his body to face you,

once he met your gaze, he smiled once again "you're a new face here," he spoke with a thick accent as he chuckled, eyes studying your face,

"you're for sure new around here," his voice low and smooth, awaiting for your answer while your heart drummed in your chest, you pushed the idea of sunghoon seeing you with a random guy, because besides avoiding getting him sick again on this trip, you truly didn't want to anger him- or worse, make him jealous on this trip,

opting to fix your hair with your engagement ring clad hand in hopes of him noticing and returning to wherever he came from, yet it seemed that it flew completely past by him as he continued, "you gonna respond to me, doll?" he leaned his body further towards you, provoking you even further whilst you backed away, "i'm here for a trip," you replied,

eyes ignoring his playful gaze, desperately searching for minjeong to arrive with sunghoon's drink so you can go back into his comforting embrace, "really? i can show you around then, doll" he smiled at you once again, eyes drinking you up, god you were gorgeous.

seeming to get no response again from you, your anxiousness growing worse with each second as did your discomfort, tapping your foot on the sand beneath you, "i'm jake by the way, what kind of trip are you on, doll?" he winked at you, his arm brushing against yours finally making you snap-

"a honeymoon trip."

a deep, familiar voice rasped out from behind you, sunghoon's arm snaking around your waist protectively and his figure towered behind you, almost in a scary manner, the comically funny sight of jake's face falling at sunghoon's appearance and words almost made you laugh, sunghoon's heavy breathing fanning at your neck forced goosebumps to arise on your body as his body almost shook with jealousy and at the sheer audacity of this random dude approaching you, was the diamond on your ring finger not big enough?

"you don't seem too happy about it, jake." sunghoon pressed on, now holding your hand and waving the diamond ring directly in front of his face, the irritation on jake's face becoming more visible with every passing second, before he sucked a deep breath in, "nah.. totally the opposite, congratulations." he replied through gritted teeth,

"so you were saying.. about showing her around?" sunghoon asked, eyebrow raised as his face remained stoic, his intimidating, glowering gaze raking over jake multiple times, while your heart only thumped at the increasing tension, part of you wishing minjeong to not come back and have the young girl witness whatever was going on between jake and sunghoon,

"you don't really find beautiful girls all alone around here.. they're usually with someone," jake began, his own challenging gaze holding sunghoon's angry one, "i knew she probably isn't from here, so that's why i approached her, she was standing all alone after all," jake kept bringing up the fact that you were alone, with each word coming out of his mouth sunghoon's grip tightened around you, you cursed at yourself for somehow managing to end up in this situation, sunghoon and jake felt like they were seconds away from jumping at each other as the latter kept spewing words to rile sunghoon further,

you held onto sunghoon's hand, his knuckles white and cold as they trembled beneath your hold, "you seem a bit experienced at approaching 'pretty girls' , jake." sunghoon replied, jake's eyes visibly darkening at his words, tilting his head yet before he could respond, a taller guy, clad in rings and chains, with jet black slightly wavy hair approached both of you,

his hands wrapped around jake's shoulders as he pulled him back, "woah! gentlemen, let's calm down a bit, yeah? there's still a lady here," the man with captivating round brown eyes smiled at you sweetly before his gaze switched between the two men who were breathing heavily, jake stumbled back into the guy's arms, huffing in frustration as his gaze softened in realisation once he saw your worried gaze, sunghoon's demeanour never wavered, his eyes still stuck on jake's face who seemed to be yet again distracted by you,

breathing out in relief, your shaky breaths finally caught the attention of sunghoon who stepped away from jake as he was getting scolded by the other guy, noticing the tight grip you had over his hand, sunghoon's racing heartbeat due to anger suddenly raced due to worry, guilt seeping through his veins when you closed your eyes in relief, face stricken with worry,

"baby.." he began, hands carefully reaching upwards to hold gently onto your face, before you held onto his wrists, jake and the other guy seemed a far distance away as the taller one seemed to be explaining something in an overly dramatic matter to another dark haired guy who looked at jake with a disapproving look, his frown only deepening when jake's only response was to roll his eyes and wave them off,

sunghoon's heart momentarily stopped when your weak hold wrapped around his wrist, "i'll see you at the house," you spoke, voice quiet though it rung in sunghoon's ears once you walked away from him, heading towards the house which was a few streets away, leaving him all alone in the beach,

he fucked up.

you fucked up.

if only you had been able to tell jake from the beginning that you were engaged, maybe that could've stopped him from continuing his questions which resulted in sunghoon almost getting into a fight if it wasn't for the bambi-eyed guy stepping in and dragging jake away, now both your and sunghoon's mood was ruined entirely, especially sunghoon's— which was way worse.

all scenarios and daydreams that you kept thinking of, how magical this trip would be and how special it'll be for only the two of you got ruined as you managed to fuck it up.

how were you going to make it up for sunghoon?

not only did you anger him, you left him alone at the beach as well, who knows maybe he got into a fight with jake after you left? or he sat down and sadly drank his drink minjeong handed him as he decided that giving you some alone time would be the best decision for now,

just how were you supposed to make it up for him?

slumping against the bed once you finally arrived into the house, the memories of the morning earlier overtaking your thoughts, what a turn of events.

and as you wallowed in worry and guilt, an idea popped up in your head so sensibly, praying to all deities and gods above that sunghoon would follow along to what you were thinking,

"got a bed with your name on it,"

and after what seemed to be an hour or maybe a half, maybe even two, sunghoon lost complete track of time as he sat down at the beach, his glass empty infront of him, memories from the previous hours kept repeating in his head, great, it was only the first day of the trip he insisted on and he managed to ruin it by almost breaking one of the main promises you begged him for, to never get into fights because of you, or possibly end up in a situation that hurt him because of you,

the promise went both ways, and you so politely kept yours throughout the four years, whilst he on the other hand always ended up in situations where he either broke it or almost broke it,

his anger was one of the main things he despised about himself, he hated how out of control his emotions could get sometimes to the point of worrying you like today, his possessiveness and jealousy were different factors that he also disliked, but he couldn't help it.

not when he got so miraculously lucky and was blessed with you as his lover, he loved and adored you so much, you were his entire world, his entire universe revolved around you, you were such a pure hearted and kind soul, your breathtaking beauty another bonus making you an angel in his eyes,

you attracting the hungry eyes of other men should be no surprise to sunghoon, turning heads in every room you walked was something he had to grow accustomed to, holding back his anger from punching any and every man that stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes,

yet when he saw jake so carelessly hitting on you, even though you did every possible movement to get your ring in his vision along with jake's ministrations continuing though you were clearly uncomfortable, anyone could tell from miles away that you didn't wish to continue whatever jake was insunating and it had sunghoon seeing red, like stated before, he can't help himself.

and now after a short conversation with the guy who dragged jake away, who he learned to be heeseung, seeming more mature than jake, he apologised for his friend's actions which he unexpectedly received an apology from sunghoon for,

"i acted on my anger as well, i'm sorry, i should've just told him we're engaged and ended it there," he spoke out, voice low in exhaustion and guilt, heeseung only smiled at his changed demeanour, witnessing a contrasting side of sunghoon that seemed like a complete different person than the man who he distanced jake from in fear that this might be the time that jake will end up hurt,

his fiery eyes simmered down to eyes filled with regret and shame at his childish behaviour, heeseung quickly reassured him that it was alright, understanding sunghoon's perspective entirely, "it's cool man, you only did what you had to do as a man, to protect your woman." heeseung smiled comfortingly at him, sunghoon smiled slightly at the way heeseung referred to you, it wasn't anything new to him, but it never failed to make his heart skip a beat whenever people mentioned your name around him let alone called you 'his woman',

"which- congratulations on the engagement by the way," heeseung added, his twinkling round eyes gazing at sunghoon gently, before sunghoon smiled back at him in appreciation, "thank you."

"we could still.. show you around the island you know.. i'll keep jake in control, i promise," he spoke, awkwardly scratching at his neck, preparing his response for sunghoon's rejection, his words made sunghoon chuckle, nodding in agreement at heeseung, resulting in the older's eyes brightening, "you better get going now, i'm sure she's waiting for you," he spoke while wiggling his eyebrows in a kid like manner, his actions made sunghoon shake his head as he chuckled before he decided to finally head back home, apology memorised and prepared in his head throughout his time at the beach,

"see you tomorrow, sunghoon! goodnight!" heeseung shouted from the opposite direction of sunghoon as he waved his hand, sunghoon responded with a 'goodnight' before they both disappeared from each other's sights,

sunghoon's heart was thumping against his chest, thoughts of your reaction and responses clouded his anxious mind, he hoped and wished that you both will be able to talk this out and not fight, he could feel small sweat droplets roll below his neck, his head almost aching from his worry and fatigue, all he wanted to do was to hold you tight in his embrace and sleep comfortably, but it seemed like the universe had different plans,

you had completely different plans.

walking inside of your house to see all the lights turned off, no traces of you in the balcony nor the kitchen, sunghoon's stress worsened as he dragged his feet into the bedroom to welcome a sight that'll easily knock the breath out of his lungs,

maybe he was overthinking with your 'reactions and responses', especially since every scenario in his head consisted of negative emotions followed by negative outcomes, that completely contrasted the sight of you, clad in nothing but a light pink— strawberry coloured lace lingerie, laying on your side cozily on the bed, facing the forest, seemingly awaiting your lover's arrival,

sunghoon swallowed thickly, heart thundering once you turned around, dazed eyes meeting his gaze making his breath hitch, he took in your appearance for a second time,

"angel.." he breathed out heavily, he could feel the apparent tightening in his pants increasing, you blinked at him innocently, before you turned your whole body towards him, the sight of your breasts barely covered by the see-through lacey bra had him biting the inside of his cheek, he came here to apologise, so what the fuck was he going to do?

"join me?" you spoke out, drawing him out of his conflicted thoughts, once he registered your words he quickly wiped his sweaty palms into the fabric of his pants, walking towards you and noticing a small strawberry in your hand, the bowl of strawberries placed onto the bedside table also coming into view accompanied by a can of whipped cream,

he really did get ridiculously lucky with you.

his feet dragged him towards you in no time, body crawling over the bed to tower over yours, you looked at him through your lashes once he began to move, grabbing the strawberry from your hand before reaching out for the whipped cream, removing the cap to press on the nozzle and cover half of the strawberry with the icy frosting, he inched his hand towards your mouth, never breaking the eye contact when he fed you the strawberry,

his hand flicked into the corner, landing a bit of the frosting onto the side of your mouth, "sorry.. let me help you," he spoke with faux sympathy, his lust filled eyes barely visible with his hair strands falling graciously, obstructing his vision yet his eyes never left your mouth, your heart hammered in your ribcage once he licked his lips before he leaned in to lick the frosting from the corner of your mouth teasingly,

whilst he had you distracted, his hand held the can above your chest, tilting the top lower to drip the remaining bits of the cream onto your chest, and once you hissed at the cold droplets landing against your warm skin you heard him gasp in shock, "oops, i don't know how it's getting everywhere," he chuckled, not giving you the chance to respond he dipped lower to caress your skin with his wet tongue, humming in delight once the sweet frosting melted in his mouth, relishing in your low whimpers,

he shook the can in his hand whilst he busied his mouth with softly suckling on your supple skin, dragging the cream over your rib cage then going lower to your stomach, "sorry baby.. i just can't help it," he breathed out, licking up all the whipping cream from your rib only to land kisses along the expanse of your skin when it got clean, you whimpered once he dipped lower to lick your belly button, before he stopped at the hem of your panties, you sat up on your elbows to see sunghoon discarding the bottle onto the bed, attaching his teeth onto the hem as he held your gaze, hauling the thin fabric to your knees then yanked it off below your ankles,

you fell back against the bed, lightheaded when he lifted your thighs gently to wrap them around his shoulders, face descending lower, allowing him to inhale your sweet scent, he felt slightly dizzy at your closer contact that he had been impatiently waiting for,

"you're dripping baby.." his voice lowered, sunghoon ran the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds, eyes closing once your nectar bursted with flavour on his tongue along with your breathy moans falling onto his ears divinely,

one hand coming up to rub slow circles over your aching clit as he began to carefully push his tongue into your drenched entrance, you gasped out in surprise once his tongue began to lick all over your walls, waves of pleasure electrifying your spine as he continued to please you, his tongue and finger never faltering in movement while you gripped the sheet, the coil in your stomach constricting from your building up release, voice increasing in pitch when he began to fasten his actions, "hoon- i'm cumming!" you warned before your climax crashed onto you quicker than you could've processed,

sunghoon only moaned lowly against your cunt while you gushed around him, he licked every drop of your nectar whilst his finger never stalled, aiding you in riding out your high as you continued to moan beautifully for him, sunghoon slowly stopped and finished off with a small kiss onto your clit making you squirm before he crawled towards you, allowing you to take the heavenly sight of his face glistening, his gaze almost seeming intoxicated at your flavour, "so much sweeter than that stupid cream," he spoke out amidst him connecting his lips onto yours, groaning slightly at the taste of the sweet strawberry still on your tongue all the while you tasted yourself and the cream on his,

sunghoon's hands restlessly tugged at your lace bra, his mouth still latched onto yours as he impatiently ripped the fabric off easily, you mewled into his mouth once his hands began to fondle your breasts, fingers pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples while his mouth sucked onto your bottom lip,

sunghoon pulled away momentarily to discard his own clothes in a blur, each item landing in a different location in the room, he crawled back to you eagerly, your hands instantly lifting up to caress his smooth skin, running your fingers down his shoulders to his waist as you stared at him lovingly, his body warming yours, your tender gaze making butterflies erupt in his stomach, he quickly reconnected your mouths with his tongue running along yours, lifting your legs up carefully to rest on his shoulders then he moved to push your knees onto your chest,

his rock hard length fitted snugly against your folds, teasingly resting his heavy weight over your pulsing clit, sunghoon pulled away to reach into the bowl, pulling another strawberry, placing the fruit into his mouth with half of it protruding, he leaned towards you, enticing you to take a bite,

you pushed yourself forward, connecting your lips shortly until you took a bite of the fruit, sweet flavour exploding to your mouth whilst sunghoon stared at you, gaze half open and glimmering as his length twitched against you, he hastily dipped to capture your lips again, in the meantime his hand went lower, positioning his tip along your entrance before he slowly pushed himself deeper, inch by inch stretching you open on his thick length, deliciously filling you up all the while licking needily into your mouth,

you moaned into his mouth once he bottomed out, tip pressed snugly against your cervix whilst your walls were accommodating to the burning stretch, sunghoon mouth worked sloppily against yours, swallowing all your sounds when he began to slightly move, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth yet it bothered neither of you, his hands held the back of your knees roughly, keeping you in place as he began to pound into you,

his mouth kissed along your jaw, allowing your moans and whimpers to reverberate throughout the room, you helplessly clawed at his biceps, digging your nails into his skin resulting in him hissing in pleasure, sunghoon's hips pistoned into yours, his cock running along and hitting all of your sweet spots, his hands moved towards your breast, caressing the skin before he latched his mouth onto your nipple,

the feeling of his teeth slightly biting your skin had your eyes rolling back, your hands pulling at the sheets once squelching, wet sounds echoed throughout the room followed by both your and sunghoon's moans, "i'm gonna fill you up so good, angel," he groaned against your skin, "you'll feel my cum throughout the entire week, he continued,

nuzzling his head into your neck, he pressed his mouth onto your ear, hips never faltering against you, "gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, yeah?" he grunted, breath hot on your ear, his body jerking against yours, small sweat droplets rolling off from him to land against you, the smell of sex and your mixed arousal filling the room, "fuck- yes! please, baby," you whimpered in his ear, abdomen tightening for a second time causing your walls to clamp around him, he groaned in pleasure as he sloppily thrusted into your heat, "please what, angel?"

"please fill me up," you whispered weakly, throat hoarse and your voice almost disappearing, his mind was spinning once he felt his approaching release as his cock was practically moulding your walls to his shape, his length was continuously jerking inside of you at his orgasm, your wetness mixed with his precum now dripping below your thighs to stain the mattress, "gonna let me fuck my baby into you, hm?" he teased with his cock drilling inside of you, "god you'd look so gorgeous carrying my baby," he continued babbling whilst you nodded dumbly at his words, too distracted by your release, sunghoon's hands fondled your breasts, "gonna look so pretty with these filled with your sweet milk," his hands squeezed your tits at his 'these' word, finger pinching at your nipple before he sucked it into his mouth,

his own hips began to uncontrollably convulse while your legs trembled on his shoulders, your eyes rolling back for the nth time once your orgasm washed over you, jaw going slack all the while sunghoon's gaze never left your face, his mouth still latched onto your nipple as he whimpered at the tight feeling of your walls clamping on his length, he lifted his face to pepper small kisses all along your jaw and cheeks, your breath uneven as sunghoon helped you to ride out your orgasm, eyes closed tightly in pure bliss, "such a good girl, creaming all over my cock" he praised, softly brushing loose strands away from your face before he pecked your lips, "my perfect good girl,"

in the blink of an eye he switched your positions, holding you on your side while he laid behind you, his sweaty chest pressing against your back as he held your leg open before plunging his cock back into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of your wetness gushing out more when he thrusts back in, his other hand swiftly landed against your clit to rub slow circles on your puffy nub whilst his length thrusted into your warmth in deep and steady strokes,

his hot breath fanning your shoulders, kissing the skin of your neck every now and then while his eyebrows furrowed, his mind in a frenzy as his climax felt mere seconds away, "come on angel, cream all over my cock again. come on, baby" sunghoon whined from behind you, each word going straight to your needy cunt making you clench around him, you felt like you were on cloud nine with his constant overstimulation, his hand never slowed against your clit while his cock ached inside of you,

"h-hoon i c-can't-" you stuttered out, he moaned at the feeling of you tightening at his words, your cunt sucking him in entirely, "yes baby, you can, come on. i need to feel it, baby" he blabbered, you couldn't tell if you were being overstimulated or if sunghoon dragged another orgasm out of you as you cried, your body shaking entirely once you began squirting all over his length, sunghoon's breath hitched, a chain of fuckfuckfuck- spilling from his mouth as his climax washed over him, pressing his hips against yours to push his tip to your cervix, allowing his warm load to shoot into your womb while your walls milked him fully, both of you panting in overstimulation and fatigue as he filled you up,

sunghoon carefully placed your sore leg down, length still buried deep in you to keep his load in place, you were exhausted, already slipping off to a deep slumber whilst you began to feel sunghoon press kisses along your shoulder,

"so.. am i forgiven?" he asked quietly,

"yeah- yeah i think so."

then you heard him whisper a sweet 'i love you.' before completely surrendering to sleep,

BONUS:

and here you were on your fifth day of the trip, indulging in a conversation with heeseung as he explained all the other different games to you, all with captivating colorful lights that easily distracted you,

on the other side of the arcade you could spot minjeong and jay sitting down at a bench together, each holding a cup that contained god knows what as they were both already tired with their social batteries empty,

while your dear fiance- there really was no need to look for him once you heard him yelling at jake, a few feet away from you while jake shouted a 'cheater!' to his face,

"how the fuck can i cheat when i'm literally playing a claw machine?!" sunghoon yelled back in bewilderment,

"seriously how did you marry him?" heeseung questioned as he covered his ears for the nth time due to their shouting, you only laughed at his frustrated expression since you, yourself didn't know how you managed to marry sunghoon.

A. NOTE (pt2): this took like more than 4 days i'm not gonna post till next year atp. also this is proof read but it's also 7k so pls ignore any sentences that don’t make sense <3

3K notes · View notes

shotmrmiller · 11 days

Text

The cool air that sweeps over your skin once you board the train feels like a gentle splash of water on a sweltering summer day. The sudden temperature change sends a shiver down your sweat-slick back, the hair on your arms standing on end in sharp relief. You press a hand to your chest, feeling the drumming of your heart against it.

You almost hadn't made it.

Everything had gone awry from the moment your alarm went off. First, you'd snoozed the clock. Half an hour later, your eyes snapped open, the horizon that'd just started to blush with the first hint of dawn giving way to a vibrant, limpid morning blue.

Shit.

You had called a cab while you were hastily getting ready, brushing your teeth, washing your face, only for it to arrive within 5 minutes. Five.

With the honking outside, you quickly threw on the first piece of clothing you found.

As you sat in the car, deliberately ignoring the driver's heated glare through the rearview mirror, you'd patted down your crinkled dress before crossing your legs, and realized—

You've got no knickers on. Double shit.

Whatever. It'll be fine. You were taking an overnight train across the country and even got yourself a private little room to sleep in. All would be well. But you had to get there first and boarding would start in 15 minutes.

Navigating through the aimless crowd of people had been excruciating. Children weaving in and out coupled with elderly folk stopping to chat up their friends with zero regard for foot traffic. Agony.

(You're fully aware that no one is at fault here but yourself.)

Almost hadn't made it but almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

Your heartbeat's still pounding in your ears as you walk down the narrow aisle, arms burning with the weight of your luggage bag and the tote slung around your shoulder. The thought of settling into your cabin and finally taking a breather propels you forward, albeit sluggishly.

The metronomic clatter of the wheels on the tracks smothers that burning sense of urgency you've felt since you woke. Weariness seeps into your bones once your cabin door comes into view. There's no other thought in your head apart from putting your stuff away and getting off your feet as you fumble for the handle.

In your fatigued haze, you hadn't noticed someone already inside. The world, once fuzzy around the edges, sharpens to cutting clarity in your shock. He's a big man. Very big. He looks like he's been carved out of oak— broad and solid. His shoulders are wide, stretching the seams of his shirt. His thick arms are draped along the backrest of the seat. The breadth of his chest— should, probably does— defies anatomy.

He's got legs like tree trunks. And they're sprawled outward, taking up a lot, if not most of the room. There's a bag resting against your seat even though the overhead space is empty. A bulky, grey jacket lays about.

You're tired, not blind. This is definitely the cabin you paid for with your measly income. But you're scared witless at the mere thought of trying to kick him out. He'll eat you. Gnaw your bones with his molars to dust for the offense.

You tug on the ends of the knot that is lodged in your throat, hoping to get some words out, but it only seems to tighten. The man's keen eyes lock onto yours, unblinking. Heavy with a weight that presses down on your back, your shoulders. Even the air itself.

The gentle click of the sliding door shutting behind you has your heart trying to crawl out of your mouth. (Possibly your arse, too, but you're not sure of anything right now, other than you're about to burst into tears because his gaze followed the motions of you shakily hoisting your bag up higher on your shoulder.)

His voice is a deep rumble— rich and resounding. You swear you could feel the air vibrate as he spoke.

"Sit down 'fore ya hurt yourself." It startles you into action, like a starter's pistol before a swim race. Quickly rising to the tips of your toes, you put your luggage bag away, giving it a couple of smacks to push it all the way back.

You mumble out a garbled 'scuse me as you traipse past his outstretched legs, carefully stepping over them, only to brush against his knee. You flinch, he doesn't.

"Sorry." Heat blooms beneath your cheeks. Embarrassing. You shove your tote into a little corner, its humble size dwarfed by his frame. With trembling fingers, you pull the back of your—very thin, now that you think about it— dress down, trying to compose yourself, before taking a seat.

Directly in front of him.

And he's still staring. Vaguely, you wonder if he can see your fluttering pulse beneath the delicate skin of your neck.

There's a lot of people on the train. That unbearably long line you had to stand in to board it was the proof. Yet it's unnervingly silent. Not one distant tinkle of laughter. No gentle hum of murmured conversation. Clinking of spoons against coffee cups.

Just a sharp, high-pitched whistle of the wind outside the window. Even he isn't making a sound. No rustling of clothes, no shifting around. Motionless.

You nervously grab at the skirt of your dress, clammy fingers curling, fabric bunching within your tightened fist, white staining your knuckles. The hem of your dress is frayed, like your nerves at this moment.

Oh no.

You flash your eyes to the guy's face but he's no longer paying attention to you. He's now looking straight at the apex of your legs. Your very naked apex. Amusement dances across his rugged features. His ash-blonde eyebrows quirking slightly, corner of his thin-lipped mouth curling.

The room tilts slightly, a dizzying sensation that leaves you momentarily unbalanced. Mortification pricks at your nerves, gathers in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill. An ear-grating squeak escapes past your clenched teeth as you jerkily tug down the skirt, the hem settling against your shins.

A tiny hiccup punctuates the moment.

His mud-caked boot taps the outside of your foot, demanding your attention. "Now, now. Nothin' to be ashamed of, birdy," he grunts. Then, with casual ease, he slides it in between yours, this time nudging the inside of them.

A recognizable gesture.

Open up.

(there's no getting a staff member to remove him. they're all half his size. and can he at least shut the blinds on the window????)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #cod mw2

594 notes · View notes

lordprettyflackotara · 2 months

Text

Till Dawn || Eyeless Jack

Smut, 18+, minors dni. Tw: size kink, overall rough ass sex, unrealistic demon sex, stalking, a sprinkle of cnc, safe word IS in place, obsession, blood, blah blah. all the things. i had to lock tf in to finish this, it’s been sitting unfinished foreverrr. here you go my lovely’s <3

part two is here

part three is here

You were a fascinating creature.

EJ thought so, anyways.

Many years had passed since he had been human, his interest in mortals having previously faded. That engrossment only slipping away further after he had moved into Slenderman’s mansion.

Typically, besides killing for food, (and maybe fun), he never strayed from home.

When Jack wasn’t home, he was never staying. Always passing through.

That was, until he saw you.

Your scent was divine, the demon lurking inside the depths of EJ clinging onto the idea of a tasty snack.

Once Jack had found you, he began studying you from a far.

You weren’t hard to find, the annoyed curses leaving your lips giving away your location easily. You were awkwardly stumbling over your arms full of groceries, struggling to unlock the front door to your tiny home.

Typically EJ wouldn’t have noticed your behavior at all, his animalistic instincts shouting at him to break into the window upstairs. To slide in, waiting for you to get settled. To creep behind you and slit your throat. He could hear your heartbeat, the steady pulse sending adrenaline through his veins. His mouth was beginning to salivate under his mask, his interest now peaked as he observed your life.

You liked your coffee mostly black, with a single sugar cube. You were a night owl, giving Jack plenty to watch as he hid in the shadows of darkness. It occurred to EJ as he watched you join another round of an online game, your thick headset covering your ears, that he hadn’t really thought about what humans did in a long time.

Over the years he had sort of lost the man he once was, forcing himself to view mortals as meals, nothing more. After all, one sensitive vital organ and they’d be dead. Humans were so fragile. They aged so much quicker than he did. Why would he ever get attached?

The thought of a potential attachment hadn’t occurred to him, ever. EJ was content with passing through. He was content with his minimum social interacts with his fellow creeps back at the mansion.

But your scent.

Eyeless Jack grew more and more puzzled the longer he studied you. Why did you smell so fucking good? He had never cared for blood before, wounds not visible on your body anyways. Your pulse was normal, but he heard pulses around him all the time. Including two sets he lived with. Unless he was hunting, EJ had grown accustomed to tuning them out.

What was it about you?

It wasn’t until one night he was perched up in an oak tree, watching you prepare for bed. EJ had never considered himself to be a peeping tom. The female body held no interest to him other than the organs it contained. That was of course, until he saw you changing. You had tugged your shirt over your head, your bare breast bouncing as you pulled down your pants. Your panties were lacey, a material EJ hadn’t touched in ages. For the first time in years, Jack could feel his boner brushing against the fabric of his boxers.

You were so innocent, so unaware of his presence. EJ felt heat rush to his cheeks, awkwardly looking around to make sure no one else was looking at you like he was. You were so careless, leaving your curtains open like this. He was sure you figured since you were on the second story no one could see you. Jack liked that idea, him being the only one that could see you like this.

This made him only pay more attention. His attention now was not only on you, but the people you associated with. EJ liked that you mostly had friends and regular coworkers. He had no competition, no problem to deal with. His mind overworked itself trying to come up with realistic scenarios where he could meet you. Where he could feel the heat of your body, his cock buried in your cunt.

Despite Jacks obsession, he knew that the situation wasn’t ideal. His being over 6’5 and having dark gray skin the very least of his appearance issues.

The longer he watched your life, he noticed you were lonely. It didn’t matter how many friends you hung out with, he saw the look on your face deep in the night. The photos in your room of everyone you loved, every single photograph missing yourself. The filthy books you spent your time reading, the romance movies you watched. You needed a lover. Someone to tend to your needs, every dark desire.

He was over the moon when the opportunity presented itself.

Ben had given him a heads up, letting him know a ‘gnarly storm’ was heading the way EJ had recently been camping out at.

Standing in the rain wasn’t ideal for EJ. He didn’t particularly like being wet, the rain beginning to pour down. The thunder clapping and lightning striking was comforting for him, the wetness of the situation, not so much.

It was a usual night for you, your teddy bear wrapped desperately in your arms as you attempted to fall asleep. EJ watched you turn over restlessly, the storm clearly delaying your regular sleeping cycle. His gaze wondered over to the bright pink vibrator charging on your nightstand, his eyebrows raising.

When did he miss that?

It had to have been when he went to hunt earlier. Living off of deer was borderline revolting, his craving for human organs much more prominent. However he knew if he wanted to stay, eating one too many human organs created too much attention. A good chase from the cops taught him that lesson. Took him lots of stitches to heal, ones he had to do himself.

It occurred to Jack in that moment that if he was going to go through on his idea now was the time. He slowly walked down the thick branch of the oak tree, careful not to slip as he approached your window. He crouched down, raising his hand. He tapped on your window with his index finger, the unfamiliar feeling of fear filling him. Would you call the cops? What would you do? He watched you stir in your bed, as if you were internally debating if the noise was real.

EJ waited patiently for the thunder to subside, before tapping again. This time you sat up, your eyes landing on the window. EJ nervously realized this was the first time you were looking at him. He raised his large gray hand, waving at you. Your eyebrows furrowed, throwing the sheets off of you as you approached your window. EJ knew your window was broken, unable to be locked. He noted you pretending to unlock it, before shoving it upwards.

“Can I um, help you?” You asked. The rain droplets were splashing into your dry room due to the wind. EJ didn’t like that. He cleared his throat, trying to sound as non threatening as possible. He knew humans to be sensitive and after all of these years of not thinking twice about his voice, he was thinking about it now. “May I come in? It’s a bit wet out here,” EJ said as calmly as he possibly could. He watched you study him, your eyes fixated on his gray hands.

“I’m n-not so sure that’s a good idea. My brother’s home and I don’t think-” You stuttered, the lies spilling from your lips. Jack didn’t like this. You weren’t a liar. Without touching you, he slid into your room nimbly without a second thought. His drenched clothes were dripping water on the floor, his sights scanning the room up close for the first time.

“Hey! You can’t just barge in here!” You yelled. You stormed over to your nightstand, grabbing a baseball bat with ‘Vikings Middle School’ engraved on it. You rose the bat over your shoulder, swinging it with full intent to hit your intruder. Your eyes widened in fear as EJ caught the bat in mind air, his slender gray fingers wrapped around the metal. He tiled his head to the side, observing you.

First lies and now an attempt at assault. This is not off to a great start.

Jack immediately caught a whiff of your scent, the newly founded fear reeking off of you. And it was divine. EJ pushed the bat aside, taking a step closer to you. “Dont lie to me. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to offer you what you truly want in exchange for shelter from the storm,” EJ said. You were adorable, practically shaking in fear as he towered over you.

“I don’t want money if that’s what you’re offering. I’m not interested-” You began protesting. Jack noted your heart racing, his ears twitching at the delightful sound. He made you nervous. EJ’s dark chuckle cut off your sentence, causing you to stop talking. “Thats not what you truly want,” Jack purred. With another few steps towards you, he had backed you into a wall. With his arms on each side of your head, he slowly rose his knee. With an unseen smirk, he placed his knee between your legs.

A skimpy nightgown rode up your thighs, your face turning a light pink. “You’re lonely, I can fix that. I’ll only stay until dawn,” EJ said. Consciously he made an effort to be gentle as he rose his hand to touch your face. You were softer than he could’ve imagined, the softest silks having nothing on your skin. “I’m n-not-” You stuttered. Your heart was racing faster. It was music to EJ’s ears. “The vibrator sitting on your nightstand says otherwise,” Jack replied cockily.

His new found confidence was evident, your attention fully on him. Finally on him. EJ leaned forward, tilting up his royal blue mask as he leaned towards your ear. His voice was deep and soft, his breath hot as you trembled beneath him. “I promise i’ll make you feel really good,” EJ purred. His words were utter filth, your face flushing with heat. You could feel your core throbbing, your lust for a stranger so dirty but so thrilling.

“What’s your name?” You whispered. EJ was surprised by your question, causing him to lean back and slide his mask back into place. “I’m Jack, but you can call me EJ,” He replied. You toyed with the idea of asking him what EJ stood for, but decided against it. You stood up a little straighter, attempting to take more control of the situation. “Well EJ, if you’re going to fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it. I want you gone at dawn. Understood?” You asked boldly.

A devious smile was curling up EJ’s lips, his mask blocking the view of his razor like teeth. “I knew you’d give into me, I can smell your arousal,” EJ replied. His gaze traveled down your body, soaking in your cleave that was revealed and your plush upper thighs. As if you could sense his devious thoughts, you pushed at his chest. “Hey i’m not kidding. Be gone at dawn or i’m calling the cops,” You threatened. Jack chuckled, before grabbing both of your thighs.

He picked you up with ease, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. “Gone by dawn. I got it. If you want me to stop say red. Say anything else and I won’t, got it?” EJ asked. He carried you over to your bed, plopping you onto your soft mattress. You audibly whimpered an agreement, staring up at the man in front of you.

“Oh and one other thing,” EJ began, shoving his hoodie over his head. You marveled as his bare chest, his dark gray skin defining his muscles. “Dont freak out,” Jack finished. You stared at him blankly, blinking before he slid off his mask. EJ wasn’t a fan of removing his mask for any reason, not even to his victims. The most he would do is show his razor blade teeth every once in a while. Matter of a fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had removed his mask in front of anyone.

Jack had pondered about what to do about his appearance, the oozing black empty eye sockets something that couldnt be ignored. He figured revealing it immediately would get it out of the way, and based on the way you reacted, he’d know what to do. His obsession with you wasn’t just pure filth or attraction, you smelled absolutely delicious.

He would win in every scenario.

He would know how to make his choice based on your reaction. You were confused, watching as EJ leaned down over you. He pinned you to the bed, your body on fire with desperation. “Scared?” Jack purred, waiting to hear all of the insults he heard in his worst nightmares. You found yourself nervously chuckling, thunder rumbling outside. “Only of not cumming,” You replied in a cocky tone, causing EJ to smile. Surely the unsettling rows of animalistic teeth were going to set you off.

But they didn’t.

Your approval and calmness gave EJ confidence, his lips bringing themselves to yours. He was careful, restraining himself so he didn’t accidentally nip you with one of his teeth. He kept his tongues in his mouth, deciding that would be a surprise for later. He was rough and needy, his lips practically begging yours to respond faster. His hips pressed down lower on yours, his bulge visible and pressed against your clothed cunt.

You tasted like mint, the taste flooding his tastebuds with an intense craving. You bucked your hips upwards, whimpering in his mouth as he grinded against you. “Needy huh?” Jack taunted. He pulled down your night gown, exposing your bare breast to him. He leaned down, placing soft and gentle kisses onto your chest. “I know you aren’t talking,” You teased.

EJ growled into your skin as he lowered himself down your body, prying open your thighs. “Whys that?” He murmured, pressing his chapped lips against your plush inner thighs. You clamped your mouth shut, your hips involuntarily moving upwards towards his mouth. “Dont think I get any play huh? Thats funny, considering you’re practically begging me to touch you,” Jack snickered cruelly. He was relishing and thriving in your desperation, dragging your panties down with his razor sharp teeth.

They poked holes in your thin panties, the shredded clothing being dragged down your legs. EJ couldn’t take his eyes off of your bare cunt, your cheeks flushing a shade of red as the demon above you admired your dripping wet cunt. Jack had seen a cunt before, in his human life and accidentally in his demon one. But yours, yours was a sight for sore eyes.

With his index finger and middle finger Jack spread open your lips, admiring how wet you were for him. “I don’t have all night-” You began complaining, only for one of EJ’s tongues to lick a stripe up your cunt. Electricity shot through your body, causing you to let out a sinful moan. “You do have all night. I have you until dawn. And trust me, you’re going to remember this long after,” Jack said, returning his attention to your aching core.

To your surprise Jack had three tongues, each of them assaulting your cunt is different ways. Two had made their way inside of you, abusing your cunt by fucking you. The other was attacking your clit, stimulating you into a babbling mess. You grabbed his hair, his name spilling off of your lips involuntarily. It was all happening so fast, your body struggling to keep up with the pleasure. Jack couldn’t contain himself, unable to tease you any longer.

Your pussy tasted better than any fucking organ he had ever eaten. You yanked at the roots of his brunette hair, chanting you were going to cum. This didn’t encourage him to slow down, the killer in between your thighs only wanting to make you do it again.

“F-fuck Jack I-I can’t,” You whined, closing your thighs around his head. Jack smirked as he removed one of his tongues from your clit, allowing him to speak. “You know what to say if you actually want me to stop. I think you like this though. I think you like being treated like the whore you are,” Jack panted. You felt humiliated at his words, your walls squeezing around his tongues.

This made EJ chuckle, his gaze now settled on your bright red face. “You like that don’t you? Being a whore for me?” Jack asked mockingly, continuing to fuck you with his tongues. Truth was when Jack had caught you reading the dirtiest of books, he ensured to do his research. To imagine himself being the one to do the things to you like he read in the filth romance novels.

You tried to hold back your unholy moans, biting your lower lip as Jack stared up at you. His third tongue playfully licked across your clit again, causing your hips to jolt upwards. “I asked you a question,” Jack said sternly. His large hands pinned down your waist, prying your thighs open. “Y-yes I like being a whore,” You replied pathetically, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. Jack brought his spare hand to your cunt, drawing quick circles around your throbbing clit.

Your legs began to tremble as an animalistic, low growl left EJs throat. “Whose whore are you? Tell me,” Jack ordered, your walls squeezing around his tongues. You could barely make sense of his words, the ecstasy he was providing you too heavenly. “I’m yours, i’m your whore Jack. Fuck, please make me cum,” You pleaded.

She taste good and can beg? Fuck me.

“Cum for me like the good little whore you are.”

Your legs shook violently and attempted to close as you came, Jacks merciless assault coming to an immediate halt. He watched you ride out your euphoria, slipping his tongues out of your cunt. Your pussy was red and puffy, suffering from the abuse of a demon. He wiped his chin with his hand, crawling up closer to you. Your heart was pounding so loudly it took everything in him for Jack not to tear it out of your chest.

“You’re going to feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock,” Jack growled, sloppily pushing down his pants. He leaned back, lightning flashing as he stroked his cock in front of you. “You sure you can handle me? You seem tense,” Jack asked teasingly. He knew was far bigger than you, your eyes widening at the mere sight of his shaft. “I can handle anything you throw at me,” You say, swallowing to create some moisture in your dry mouth. Your throat and mouth having gone dry from making so many sinful sounds.

Jack smirked as he slowly slid inside of you, his tip alone stretching you out. You whimpered, causing Jack to lean forward. He sank into you slowly, peppering soft kisses on your neck. Purposefully he targeted your more sensitive skin, testing the waters to see which areas made you loosen up more. You clawed at his back, your face scrunched up in pain. EJ studied your face carefully, slithering one of his hands down to your puffy clit. “T-too much,” You babbled, your words beginning to slur. Your hand slid down to grab Jacks wrist, the killer above you not changing his mind.

“Need you loosen up a bit more. You’re doing so good. You can do it for me, yeah?”

His words were like a remedy for your pain, his cock now fully buried inside of you. You pulled your hand away from his wrist, your fingertips brushing over the outline of his cock inside of your stomach. You forced yourself to open your eyes, the sloppy circles Jack was drawing around your clit helping you adjust. You swallowed hard, meeting the gaze of the lust filled demon above you. “You can move,” You whispered. Jacks ears twitched, almost as if he was making sure he heard you right.

“Play with your clit for me while I fuck you,” Jack ordered. You did as instructed, your small fingers trailing down to your abused clit. You drew slow circles as Jack propped himself up, slowly bucking his hips into yours. You let out a loud moan, his cock hitting your g spot. The demons gaze fell down to your womb, his eye sockets widening as he saw the shape of his cock slide in and out of you. “So fucking tight for me,” Jack snarled, picking up the pace.

His thrust were brutal and animalistic, unlike anything you had ever seen before. Or felt before. His pace was relentless, his body not seeming to tire. “Jack!” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. He brought you into a sloppy kiss, struggling to be careful not to cut you with his teeth as he fucked you. “You feel so much better than I thought you’d feel. Fuck,” EJ groaned into your mouth, losing his control.

One of his teeth nicked your lower lip, a small tinkle of red crimson blood dripping down your bottom lip. Jack didn’t have time to think, his mouth on yours immediately. But this time, for a different reason. He sucked at your bottom lip as he pounded you, moaning at the taste of your blood. You felt disgusted how accepting your body was of this, your eyes fluttering shut as you allowed him to suck at your lower lip. Jacks orgasm was coming closer, even if he didn’t want it to.

His pace didn’t let up for a second, his body a slave to your pussy. He released your lip with a pop, growling as he felt his orgasm come closer and closer. “I’m going to fucking breed you. You’re gonna be all mine, all fucking mine,” Jack huffed, his control long gone. His gaze met yours, your face fucked out and your moans incoherent. “Cum with me. Cum all over me,” He panted, his orders now weak. Your small fingers were replaced with his own, his slender fingers resuming the assault on your clit.

“Fucking shit, EJ!” You cried out, gripping his arm as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Your walls were milking his cock, begging him for his cum. They were pleading with him to breed your pretty little cunt, to make you all his. Your orgasm was all it took, his hips stuttering as he came inside of you. His moans were no longer the human language, his sounds of pleasure reverting back to incoherent growls. EJ panted as he looked down at you, your bottom lip puffy.

Your neck was covered in light purple and brown bruises, his light pepper kisses not as light as he thought. You were fucked out, your body lying limply on the mattress below you. Slowly he slid his cock out of you, your cunt red and puffy from the abuse. EJ watched as a mixture of his and your cum dripped out of you, your breathing slow and heavy. “Y/n?” Jack whispered. He was terrified he had broken you, his gaze landing on the bruises in the shape of his fingers that had littered your soft thighs.

You murmured an audible response, causing Jack to sigh in relief. He looked over his shoulder, the sun coming over the horizon. The storm had subsided, a light spring shower coming down from the sky above instead. You sat up slowly, watching your tall demon lover dress himself. You were dizzy and tired, blinking slowly as he shoved his pants back on. “You don’t wanna stay?” You asked softly, yawning. EJ gave you a cheeky smile, before shoving his mask back on.

“We had a deal didn’t we? It’s dawn,” Jack said. He began to put his hoodie on, your eyes softening with disappointment. Jack could feel his stomach growling, the taste of your blood fueling his desire for a tasty meal. He wanted to stay, but he knew he would kill you if he lost control again. Without thinking he handed you his hoodie, before heading over to the window. You sat there dumbfounded, watching as he gave you a small wave goodbye.

“Don’t worry, i’ll be back,”

946 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 3 months

Text

CAT-EYES

PAIRING: Runaway Groom!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Thief!Reader

SYNOPSIS: What begins as a normal day of stalking the back road for wealthy carriages, turns into a walking nightmare spanning three days. Who is this finely-dressed man stumbling about your woods?

WORDCOUNT: 13.3k

WARNINGS: Blood, injury, light gore, pining, intense banter, sarcasm, insults, kind of enemies-to-lovers but eh, angst, protective!John, light hurt/comfort, bittersweet?, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You were sitting in the branches again.

Lightly swinging your legs from over the sides, the rough bark at your spine shifted as you let out a tiny sigh into the chilled air. In your ears, you’re hearing the bugs fly past, and the large hart about fifteen feet away pushing through the undergrowth—built body just barely there as the puff of his hot breath wafts upwards.

Twirling the arrow between your fingers, your bow sitting carefully in your lap, you close your eyes and listen.

The years had come and gone and yet you remained here in this small corner of nowhere—resting in this old gnarled oak tree with its branches and leaves giving protection from the elements when nothing else would. Sure, you had a small home to call your own in these very woods, but your windows didn’t give a view of the back road to the East. Barely anyone took it now, and you think you’re partially to blame for it, but, well, perhaps those pesky nobles shouldn’t have been too prone to flashing their coin.

So it was their fault, and on your failing honor, the money always went to a good cause anyway. Who wouldn’t want a poor woman to eat?

But, no. There are rules that every thief follows, no matter how unsavory. You never killed anyone; you never harmed them, either. Just the money—a brandished dagger or an arrow to the side of a carriage wouldn’t hurt anything besides pride, and many of those you stole from had enough to last them multiple lifetimes.

“Greedy fellows,” you sigh under your breath before you stretch like a cat, arching your spine and spreading your arms high above your head. The few rays of sun you get through the leaves dance across your face, but still, the thick layer of cold air is present all around.

Shuffling a bit in your shoulder-wrapping, you yawn and fall back once more—licking your lips and thinking of warm stew and fresh bread from the inn down in the town. Shivering, your fingers move to play with your bow, tapping along the bend of wood as the trees are brushed by a soft breeze. The hart below huffs louder still—hooves crushing across the fallen twigs, and you think it’s a bit strange the thing is still here despite your scent clearly in the air, but your eyes are more focused on the road than an animal.

Until it speaks.

“Hells fuckin’ bells, this damn get-up is going to be the death of me,” the words are barked out quickly—laced with heated anger as a branch is slapped by heavy hands.

Startling, your head snaps below you rapidly; heart jerking inside of your chest so suddenly that you nearly send yourself off the side of your perch. Scrambling for your bow to make sure it doesn’t clatter to the dirt of the Earth, you force down a loud gasp at what you see.

“Bastard things,” meets your ears as you stare open-eyed at a bulky man as he stumbles out into the small clearing below your tree, looking behind him as he pants. Your jaw goes slack at the extravagant apparel clothing this sudden stranger—a red, black, and blue tartan thrown over his shoulder, pinned with the silver image of a great boar head, and the kilt has more than one bramble stuck into it as it swishes with his turn.

He has a sporran as well, made of dark furs with three tassels hanging, the metal also silver, as your experienced eyes can tell as they narrow in confusion.

“What in the hell…” You breathe quietly, leaning just a bit more over the edge of your branch slowly.

There were black belts and buckles, rich shoes of leather, and your gaze slowly drags to the hanging body of a sword strapped to his waist, swinging as the man rests his feet and looks down at himself with a deep annoyance. There wasn’t an inch of him not coated in dirt, mud, or sweat—all that deer-ish panting and huffing escaping his mouth in condensed clouds.

“Fuckin’,” he stops himself from continuing the curse, holding up his hands as he glares down at his form. “Jesus, this’ll never come out at this rate.”

This comment made your lips twitch, eyebrow-raising as your sharp vision filtered from one detail to the next—learning the brown shade of his cut hair and the strange way it’s kept long down the center, and short along the sides. He had a strong build to him, and the boar broach, while it may be something to distinguish a family line as he seemed wealthy, perfectly reflected the individual.

He was a being of muscle and stubborn willpower. All tusk and bristled fur.

Your eyes linger a bit longer on the silver of that broach—the thing that glints in the light alluringly. You hum under your breath, tilting your head softly. Yet, your impression was made, and your wits are about you as sharply as they always had been.

This was a formal outfit, for a formal occasion. So, why was this important man trampling through the woods where you were set to ambush the next unassuming noble on the road? Why was he looking over his shoulder so tense-like? Your curiosity had piqued the second you’d figured out the rabid crunching from the bushes wasn’t a deer but instead, a wealthy-looking man who wasn’t, you admitted, too hard on the eyes.

Blinking, you smile, fingers twitching over your bow as the stranger brushes his vest rapidly, growling down at the large mud stains.

“Lost, then?” Your voice makes him startle, skull whipping forward to the tree trunk until you whistle and lean forward; moving your bow to push away the cover of leaves. “Up here, now,” blue eyes immediately lock with yours and you hum, chuckling, at the moment of shock that shines through. “Poor bastard, look at you and all that mud. You’ve been through hell, mate, eh? By the state of you, I’d say you fought a bear and found yourself at the end of an unfortunate outcome.”

Your words are smooth—nearly sly just as they always are. There’s intent leaking out of every one of them until all that remains is a layered purpose, like that of a butcher peeling away flesh from a hide. You have to process that skin: lay it to a rack to let it dry before it can be stretched to the desired firmness, and, finally, softened.

You took as much pleasure in the mental hunt as you did the payoff. Where there’s money to be earned, there’s also knowledge—you were a thief of all.

The man watches you with wide eyes, those blues glinting as they blink, glancing around rapidly to check for any others like you that may be hiding. He steps back, a hand brushing his sword, and you think to yourself slowly, he’s smart.

You breathe down chilled air. Before he responds he checks to make sure it’s not an ambush—the man understands he’s out of his element here. He’s on edge.

The both of you stare at one another, before your face shifts, brow-raising up on your forehead.

“What, did I startle you?” Legs looping to hang off the same side, your body feels lighter than a feather as you send yourself over the edge, knees taking the brunt of the force as your head catches up to your stomach—grunting as you hold your bow heavily in one hand. The jostle moves the limbs of your arrows, kept in a quiver at the small of your back.

Standing fully, you huff and set an easy smile to your lips, all teeth.

“My apologies, Lord.” Your free hand finds your heart, and you bend your spine forward. “I couldn’t help but see you down here below my tree.”

“Best to stay where you are,” the stranger grunts, only giving you enough of a glance to deem you unthreatening, apparently. Your form straightened. He watches you warily on the next go-around, attention always drifting to every snap of a twig off into the trees or the breeze shifting the leaves. “No need to apologize,” is the hurried reply, caught on a rough accent and a hissed gravel huff. “I’ll be on my way once I get my bearings. I don’t have time for conversation—and you should find your way home before long.” Eyes dart. “It isn’t good to be out today...or tonight, I’d say.”

If possible, your intrigue gains strength like a saint in Heaven.

The man’s square face raves in a clench of his jaw, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Are you sure you’re not lost, Lord?” You continue, undeterred, and shift your bow to sling it over your shoulder. “I live in these woods, I’d have no trouble directing you to the road. It isn’t far.”

“It’s John,” he grunts, glancing over, out of sorts. He was tired—his limbs were shaking with exertion even if he didn’t realize it yet. You think that perhaps if he were more focused, he’d ask why a woman had just landed in front of him from the branch of an Oak; dressed in trousers and a tunic, with just a woolen wrap to keep out the chill. Dirt over her face and a cunning edge to her words. Or, maybe he did know, you wondered, and simply didn’t care at the moment.

“Just call me Johnny. And,” he shakes his head firmly. “No. Go home to your husband, Bonnie, this doesn’t involve you.” He blinks, staring with a line across his forehead, stubble pulling along his cheeks. “I know this place—there’s a road just to the…” he turns his head to the direction of your trail, blinking at the coverage of thick foliage. “Fuck,” the dark-haired stranger growls, blues sparking up in a feral display of desperate weight.

You can only see the winding bends if you have a vantage point—that was why you chose your tree in the first place. Your smile grows.

“It’s that way, Lord,” you breathe, pointing in the opposite direction of the road, back to the small path of brambles and bushes that leads closer to your home instead. “We pass my property on the way, I can offer you some drink for your troubles.” A chuckle wafts the air. “You look like you need it.”

There’s a large moment of hesitation, in which you begin to wonder if this prize might be too big to catch, but, then, as there’s a flash of something over John’s face, he grits his teeth and sighs.

“Aye, fine,” he nods, looking to the side as he lowers his tense shoulders and clears his throat. You’re offered a sincere expression that borders on strained guilt. “Thank you, Dearie. I…” John pauses, frowning. “I hope I didn’t scare you too much when I burst through the trees like that—I’m in a bit of a rush if you can’t tell. I need to make for the shore.”

“My,” you huff, shifting your body and motioning him to follow—he does, setting his feet carefully ahead of him with experienced movements; keeping a respectable distance away. Johnny wasn’t new to the woods, then. He knew where to place his feet, at the very least. “The shore? That sounds exciting.” You conclude, hiding your creased brows as you stare forward. “Making for the South? I’ve heard handfuls are leaving for the weather.”

Looking over your shoulder, you make sure he keeps on your trail as you push through the bushes. “More agreeable, they say. Less rain.”

John chuckles, though he’s still visibly aware of everything around him. He spares you a look, a small smirk taking over his slightly chapped lips. “Keep talkin’ like that, and I just might.”

You’re surprised by the genuine laugh that fights in the back of your throat. Humming under your breath, you shrug it off as simply as a dog does a fly. It was painfully obvious neither of you trusted the other.

John’s eyes were stuck on the back of your head, and yours were eager to slide back to his form on the off-chance you had to use the dagger strapped to the meat of your thigh, carefully hidden under your trousers and accessible via a cut in your pocket. He was all muscle, and already you know that any attack coming to you would be unwise to try and retaliate—slash and retreat was a much better escape plan.

You could outrun him.

“So,” your words bleed curiosity, eyes imploring as you glance over your shoulder. “Why are you out in the woods, Johnny? In such a nice outfit as well. Is there something going on around here?”

The dark-haired man tilts his head your way, sighing long. “A wedding, actually. Horrible thing, if I have to comment on it.”

Your lips twitch.

“Oh, aye. I’d heard about it in town not two days ago—something about a marriage of advantage? Who was the unlucky pair, then?”

John clenched his jaw, hand coming up to push at the smear of dried blood on his cheek, which you’d just noticed wasn’t dirt and instead the result of a branch slap. Pale cheeks were wind-bitten. Lungs heavy. You narrow your gaze before stopping the surge of questions in your mouth.

“Some poor bastard, that’s who,” he responds slowly, mostly under his breath, before blinking. “How much further is the road, Dearie? No offense,” he grunts, staring seriously at you “but I'd rather not be here for much longer.”

The boar broach winks at you.

“Not far,” you smile coyly. “Forgive me, Lord John—”

“Just Johnny—”

“—But I do hope you’re not a fugitive.”

Blue eyes widen, sure feet faltering.

“.... Negative, Bonnie, no, I’m not running from the law. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me,” he breathes, and not once does he look away from you. You have to commend the man, he seemed an honest fellow, and those, you knew, were very rare indeed in your time. “I just need to get out of these woods. You’ll never hear from me again after I’m gone.” He takes a breath, looking past you. “You have my word.”

“Is it worth believing?” You push, smirking. “There’s few dressed like you that I can say it is.”

John licks his lips as you both pass a fallen tree, standing more side by side than previously now that the density of bushes had dispersed. He huffs, sending you a side-eye before he seems to study your face, brows pulling jokingly.

“I don’t think my answer would make much of a difference, would it?”

You pause, enjoying this man’s company more by the second. “No, it wouldn’t.” The both of you stare, before you grin and pull your sharp gaze away, chuckling. “Follow me,” you motion a hand. “Before you fall into a mud pit and completely ruin what little is left of your outfit that’s sellable—” You fumble, faking a cough as you clear your throat and finish off with tension now in your spine, “Salvageable.”

“If I’m bein’ honest, Bonnie,” Johnny grumbles, either not noticing the mistake or simply not registering it. “I wouldn’t fuckin’ care if it got covered in horse shit.”

—

You open the door to your home, shifting out of your bow and setting it against the wall with your quiver following to rest beside it as two siblings should.

“You’re lucky,” you hum, “I just went to the well this morning—freshwater is in the basin, cups on the table.”

John’s eyes give a firm once-over, fingers fidgeting above his sword’s hilt. He nods once, moving into the doorway, and immediately goes to where you describe and grabs onto a carved cup, tilting it in his hands.

“Thank you,” he mutters sincerely, hand dipping into the collection of water. “Eh,” John puffs a laugh, “I’d imagine I would still be stumbling along if it wasn’t for you, little Lady. These woods are larger than I remember them.”

“You come from around here?” You ask, brushing down your wool wrapping as you pull at the burs in the fiber. “Don’t recall your face in the town, though I’m not there often.”

“Hm,” he takes down the water, and you watch his Adam’s Apple bob as droplets slip from his lips to drop off his chin. Once he had drunk the entire cup, he removed it and wiped at his mouth with his forearm, blue eyes peeking above it. “I…wasn’t in town usually. Not really my place—the forests outside of my property took most of my attention.” He confesses, head tilting as the strange cut of his hair flops along with his skull. “Those, I could run blind.”

“I’m sure,” you puff a laugh.

While the air was somewhat calm, there was still an underlying hesitancy: Johnny didn’t know who you were, and you didn’t know what he was running from. Both were important questions that needed to be answered. Yet, John seemed the casual type.

“Doubt me?” His eyes narrow, a smile brewing.

“I never said that,” you walk past him, also grabbing a cup before dipping it into the basin. Your finger points. “But it would be interesting to test.”

“Unfortunately,” John breathes, setting down his cup, “I’m occupied at the moment.”

“A groom would be,” you tilt your head, casually sipping at your drink. “Your wife must be fucking fuming right now.”

The room flips on itself, and the man is instantly frozen.

Johnny stares, shocked, and you see his feet instinctually ready a stance to either blot to the door, or to take up his sword. His expression is layered with secrecy.

“...What was that?”

“I said your wife must be fucking fuming,” you say louder, slipping your hand into your pocket and shrugging to make it seem meaningless—your dagger’s hilt is smooth under your flesh. “Or did you not finish the ceremony? Betrothed, then, Johnny Boy?” Your eyes glint. “Hell, the event must have been absolutely laced with wealth. Did you have wine imported? New fabrics for your wedding clothes? I’d almost be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“That’s none of your business, Dearie,” he levels, glare heavy and firm while his face is stoic. You can clearly see his body wound up like a wild dog. “I think we’re done here.”

He backs up quickly, legs taking him to the exit until you’re suddenly right behind him, and the man feels the sharp press of a blade into the back of his spine.

Your lips are at his ear, and you chuckle. “Sorry, but we’re not done until anything valuable is in my hands and not on your body.”

“If you wanted me naked,” he growls, glaring from over his shoulder, as his form is rod-straight. “You could have just asked, Little Thief.”

“I’d call it heavy persuasion,” you chuff. “Sounds better, don’t you think.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Johnny barks, teeth gnashing. “Put the knife down before this gets ugly.”

“I’m not entirely sure I want to,” your answer meets the air. “There’s enough silver and fine fabric on you to feed me for an entire winter, even when the deer move to better grounds.”

John grits his molars, his neck bent as his fingers twitch at his sides, slipping along to his sword slowly.

“Money? That’s why you’ve got a bloody blade on me? Christ, my day just keeps getting better and better.” You glare, anger moving behind your eyes.

“Some people have to work for what they want, you—” Your hand is slapped to the side as John spins, and your dagger is sent along the floor in a loud clatter; a hand finding your upper arm as you gasp, and, suddenly, there’s the chilled edge of a blade at your throat.

Wide-eyed, you gape at John as the man smirks at you, yet his orbs are infected with annoyance.

“When you draw a knife on someone, you best know how to use it.” The edge is slightly pressed deeper and your body refuses to move. “You put it at the neck, Cat-Eyes.” John frowns, glaring. “Knew there was something about you—down to the bow and arrows.”

“What,” you growl out, a low embarrassment stemming in your gut as John’s puffs of breath move along your face. Your face burns, and your fingers jerk with anger. “A woman can’t have hobbies?”

“Not when I find ‘em up trees waiting to ambush any bastard that comes by wearing silver.”

“Mate,” you sneer, eyes glimmering. “At this point, you can keep your damn silver. It’s more of a reward to watch you stumble like a fool through the woods five feet from the road.” Johnny’s face tightens, yet there’s little time to fight like children anymore when the sound of breaking branches is echoing off the windows of the house.

Both of your necks whip to the door, yours a great deal more carefully as you’re slightly nicked by the sword's edge, but the drip of blood is voided. High voices carry over the air.

“Find him!”

“His tracks lead through here—get the hounds on it!”

“Here!”

Your brow raises, smirk getting larger as you chuckle under your breath. “Better get on your way quickly, then.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Johnny snarls, all at once ripping his sword from your neck yet keeping his ruthless grip on your upper arm. He looks nervous now—his eyes jumping from one place to another, thinking. “Where’s the damn road, you minx.”

You shrug, eyes sharp. “What road, Lord?”

The strong man rages, eyes burning with a thousand suns as the sword is taken from your neck and re-sheathed in one motion—a second hand staples itself to your waist, gripping tightly. You blink, saliva swallowed down thickly at the dig of heavy fingers into flesh as your heart stutters.

“You’re going to tell me,” John levels, shifting the both of you back as the sounds of fast footsteps are echoed by the bay of dogs. “As much as I would enjoy being away from you in any capacity at all,” you smile humorously to him through his dead-tone monologue, “I need a guide out of these woods and across the land. If you won’t help willingly, I’ll just have to make do.”

You blink, confused.

“Make do?” Your body is taken up, and you shout as you’re ruthlessly flung over the man’s shoulder with a hiked toss.

Johnny’s smirk is lost to you, but his chuckle is not as he dashes to the door and slams it open, taking a quick left and looping the house—diving into the foliage as if a fish to water. “Unhand me, you brute!” You scream, clawing and hitting at the man’s back—kicking even, as your knee speedily finds his ribcage. “Ow!” John laughs, his grin highly amused as he turns back to look at you. The shouts from the trees get larger, but that doesn’t help you much as you’re both soon going deeper and deeper into the woods. “Jesus, you have a pair of legs, don’t you?”

“If I were marrying you,” you bark down at him, struggling with all of your might as your home disappears from view. “I’d be running instead of the other way around!”

“Well,” Johnny calls, his sword bouncing off of his hip. “It’s a good thing you’re not, then, isn’t it, you bonnie little thief? Your husband would be dead and all of his coin in your dirty pockets!”

“Stop calling me a thief!” You send a closed-fisted slap to the top of his head, and he grunts, balking to the side. “Learn how to handle a fucking lady!”

“Lady?” He breathes heavily, shoving into another bush as leaves get tangled in his hair—twigs stuck in yours as you scowl rabidly. “If you’re a lady, Bonnie, then I’ve got a beast waiting for me back at my ceremony.”

—

He stopped when the light of the sun was low, and your constant attack of his spine left an array of large, fist-shaped bruises on his skin.

“Easy,” John grunts, dropping you with a huff to a down-turned stump.

It isn’t long before you shoot back up, hands clawing for his throat. “Hells Bells!” The man ducks, boyish glint in his eyes as he darts to the side, stepping out of the way as you stumble on tingly legs.

“I’m going to skin you alive,” you yell. “Piece of utter dog shite!”

“Now that’s a bit strong,” John breathes, panting from his mad run for his single life. “Don’t you think?”

You take one step forward, and he takes two back—stuck in a game of cat and mouse. Your eyes are like tiny fires, illuminated with only anger and hatred.

“Give me one reason why I should even attempt to help you,” your screams rise above the trees, hands splayed as John puts his hands to his knees, taking down breaths as sweat dribbles down his neck into his vest. “You-you,” your tongue fumbles, “kidnapper!”

“Technically, it would be an abduction, Dearie.” You slap him across the face and see the man’s cheeks go red from the blow. Shoving your nose nearly right into his, you sneer.

“Correct me again, and it’ll be your balls I hit next.”

He swallows, blinking, before he smirks and pairs it with a chuckle as his eyes spark. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You growl as he holds up his hands, moving one to rub at the back of his neck and itch at the shaved portion of his scalp. That damned smirk—you despised it.

“Get me to the closest port,” John settles, getting to business as his expression mellows out. “And I’ll make it worth your while, I give you my word.”

“What?” You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation the longer the silence falls; realizing how serious the man is. “Oh God in Heaven, this has to be a joke.”

“Anything you ask for, you can have from me when this is over,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his mud-caked shoes. “I don’t need more than the fee to secure a spot on a good ship sailing away from here, and whatever is left I’ll give to you if you want it. You win in this situation, and I’m not trying to hide it from you.”

Your sharp eyes hone in, unwavering in its heat.

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, “I’d even give you my damn socks if that’s what it takes—I need to get out of here. Quickly.”

You stare, sneering. “Is your betrothed a damn witch or what?”

Blue eyes blink, and his words are firm as they meet air. “Are you taking up my offer or not, Cat-Eyes?”

“Of course, I’m taking the offer!” You bark ruthlessly, rolling your eyes as you kick at the dirt. Rocks and grass fly as darkness settles heavier. “I’m not a fool.”

“Well,” he sighs in relief, looking to the shadows along the ground. “I can’t say you’re that, either, but you are certainly something.”

You narrow your eyes at Johnny but don’t waste your time any longer as you turn and study what you can see.

You had grown up here—in this land. The woods knew you just as much as you knew them. Already you could pinpoint a general map of this section based on the large cracked boulder to your right, and the tiny cluster of trees across the way. You knew the way to town, and from there, the port.

“It’s a three-day walk,” you grumble, side-eyeing the man as he moves to lean against a trunk. He wouldn’t be moving through the night—you didn’t complain on that front either. “You grab at me like that again, and I’ll—”

“Let me guess,” Johnny raises a brow. “You’ll hit me in the balls.”

Your thin lips tell him all he needs to know.

Shuffling past him, you frown and pull your wrapping closer, shuffling your chin into it. No fires for warmth, you know—not with people on your trail.

“I want an explanation,” you turn and dig into him, walking closer as John looks to the side. “If I’m sticking my neck out, I want answers as well as coin.” Poking him in his chest, you force your neck to find his gaze. “Why are you running?”

Johnny sighs, licking his lips as he nods with a low, “Fine.”

You tilt your head, and John moves back to sit against the stump, moving out his hands in an honest display.

“I was told I needed to marry and produce heirs if my house was going to survive, aye?” He states, and you know the story well. “My parents are gone, and my sisters are all married, but my estate is barren of anyone besides myself and the staff. To keep the peace, I gave my word that I would join into a union to secure my assets for my bloodline.”

It was all so formal, the talk of a wife and children—you never understood it. Why couldn’t people simply marry who they love and leave it at that? All this bloodline and assets. Don’t they ever get sick of it?

“What’s your last name, then,” you ask. “McDuff? Mackenzie?”

“MacTavish,” John shakes his head, rubbing his hand up and down the back of his neck. Blue eyes stay with yours. “John MacTavish, I have lands to the North.”

Your brows tighten, arms going to cross themselves. “You’re running from your home because of a union you can freely exit?”

“It isn’t free,” he grumbles, shaking his head firmly and setting his jaw. “My father’s wishes for his children were written down and sealed. I was to marry a daughter of Arthur Campbell when I came of age.” John chuckles face going a bit pink. “As you can see, I’m a good few years past that.”

You tilt your head, and while Johnny was certainly passed the normal age of a male in his position to be wed, it struck you as odd as to why he didn’t want to be in the first place. In marriage during these times, a man has little to lose when joined. Almost nothing else changes for them except another title is added to their long line of others already living under him.

John continues, and you stay your snake-like tongue for now. “Wasn’t until I learned that by now, Mr. Campbell’s second born daughter, who was the only one near my age, had passed nearly an entire year ago—leaving only the oldest behind.”

“And?” You hum, intrigued to see where this goes. Johnny itches at his chin, scratching the stubble that lives there along with the dirt and grime. “What, I’d imagine the head of the Campbell family wanted to uphold the arrangement?”

“Aye, they did,” John grunts, nodding. “Fiona Campbell was the woman I was set to marry today.” He pauses, sighing heavily before looking to the side. Darkness had set, and there was little light by way to see the expression of guilt growing on his face. “I’m not lyin’ when I say I didn’t want to make such a mess of it, but there’s only so much a man can do when he learns his bride is not only twice his age,” John breathes, grunting, “but also just…” He stops himself, sighing.

You frown, gut swirling.

“She was blank, do you understand?” Johnny asks, motioning a hand in a display of unknowing explanation. “All she seemed to care about was children and wealth. A slate waiting to be filled with someone else’s thoughts and ideas. I didn’t want to be the one to fill it—I’ll not be some husband that runs a wife around like a dog. That isn’t right to me; it wasn’t how I was raised.”

Your mind twists on itself with an indefinable feeling—skin tight to your bones as if taken and tied by ropes. Your heart pumps blood a little harder, but just because this man seems less of a bastard doesn’t mean you like him. He’d dragged you into this hunting party of his grand problem, and the sooner you got your payment, the better and easier it would be to disappear.

“How noble,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Yet, your voice is hiding an under-the-breath shock. “So you bolted into the woods?”

Johnny rubs at his nose bridge, growling in annoyance. “Yes—it was the best cover I had. Been going through the trails since sunrise.” He slaps his hands to his knees and stands back up with a grunt and an ache in his thighs. His sarcastic voice peels the shadows. “Are we satisfied, now, Bonnie?”

“I won’t be until you’re out of my sight,” you level, moving forward. “So are you going to bed so I can drag you to the port or not?”

John’s body is heard shifting as you slip down the trunk of a tree, backside hitting grass as you settle in for a restless sleep—pulling your wrap tighter over your shoulders. Here you were: weaponless and in the company of a runaway groom still in all of his finery.

You wanted that damn boar broach.

“Sleep’ll be smart, we need to be up early,” John says seriously, his shoes shifting the leaves. Letting the chill seep in, you burrow into your fabrics and glare ahead. Johnny’s sly voice is so reminiscent of yours, that you have to wonder if the two of you were cut of the same cloth. “I won’t be opposed to a cuddle if you get chilly, Little Lady—”

“I should have stabbed you when I had the chance.”

Johnny’s low chuckles waft over the air, and then the silence settles fully.

Yet, you’re up far later than you anticipated…and you find this honest man’s confession to be bouncing inside of your skull like an enraged bird.

—

“Christ, did I do that?” A finger is pressed under your chin, tilting your head up as you strangle a gasp at the sudden motion.

Johnny looks at the tiny cut along your neck from the edge of his sword—the barely-there irritation of the skin that you’d been itching at as you walked forward through the trees.

He frowns, glancing into your eyes as your body stills at the feeling of warm flesh.

It was the first day of walking, and the silence between the two of you had stayed. Not only were you annoyed at the situation, but also John’s story—you’d been mulling it over since last night.

But below that anger, you might have even felt a little wrong.

“Who else?” You sigh sarcastically to the man, trying to hide the rising flood of heated shock. Thick digits drag along your esophagus slowly in study, and John’s face creases the longer he looks. He’s hunched near you, too—and you can smell the low scent of leather and earth.

Johnny pulls back with a huff and slips a hand into his sporran. Your eyes watch with blatant distrust until a relatively clean rag is taken out by a steady hand.

He motions with it. “Come ‘ere. Let me get the dirt out of it before it gets infected, eh?”

You sigh lowly but decide it’s a good idea at the very least before nodding—John’s fingers return as the light from above leaks through the branches. The morning was cold, but not unreasonable; the woods gave shelter from the otherwise abusive wind of the open country.

“Look at that,” you breathe, “The first nice thing you’ve done for me.”

“Ah,” John lightly glares. “Not quite right—I carried you away instead of making you run with me.”

Your eyes roll, and Johnny’s chuckle echoes off the surroundings.

“Such a gentleman,” you grumble, feeling the rag press into your throat and the soft scrape of it across your scratch.

“So,” the man hums, blue eyes stuck to your flesh as he takes care of it far more nicely than you’d imagined someone to be. “Seeing as I’ve shared my sob story, Cat-Eyes, I think I’d like to ask after yours.” His voice is full of amusement. “As we’ll be keeping one another company.”

“It’s less as in-depth than yours,” your fingers twitch as Johnny moves back after the cleaning is done—returning the rag to his sporran as he blinks.

“I don’t believe that,” he raises a brow, as you ignore the remembrance of his touch and continue, paving the trail as the dark-haired man follows a close distance behind. “Can’t say there’s many times I’ve seen an unwed woman wielding a bow and thieving someone out of their money. I’ve seen a lot of things, Bonnie,” he laughs, “but never that. Scared the hell out of me when you dropped down.”

“You can add me to the top of the list, I suppose,” you puff a teasing breath. After an expecting pause in the conversation, you grow bored of the nothingness.

“I’ve lived out here my entire life—I do what I have to. That’s all there is to it.”

John’s face gradually pulls into itself, only looking away from you to glance at the path to make sure he won’t fall.

“No family?”

“None,” you tilt your head, shimmying under a low branch and pushing leaves off your shoulders. They sway to the ground softly as you brush an arm over your forehead, sensing Johnny’s attention.

The man grunts. “M’sorry.”

Your feet stumble for a moment, pace faltering, until you cover it up easily. You turn to stare, narrowing your eyelids as open blues watch silently. John’s shoulder brushes yours.

“It’s life,” you blankly answer. “Least I wasn’t married off. Where you had to worry about a blank slate, I had to worry about becoming a broodmare for a man who most likely would never love me.”

Johnny licks his lips, eyes darting to the ground. “Can’t imagine you like that,” he mutters, but it isn’t some joke—he’s truthful.

“Perfect,” is what his ears twitch to. “Because I’d sooner act like you and bolt from my wedding as well.”

“Would that make me the thief in your story, then?” Johnny asks, chuffing as he smiles towards you, reaching a hand above him to push another branch out of the way—separating it from your form as you bend under. “I’m tellin’ you, I wouldn’t be very good at it. All that dropping down from trees would have my knees screamin’. Not that they don’t already.”

Your laugh pierces his chest, and the man sends a kind if not a bit startled, show of interest to you. It sounded like a bowstring slapping a wrist—harsh and telling all at once: something to be known and understood even if heard only once.

John blinks at you, and his heart patters along in his chest.

“I think it would be more fun to think about you with a dagger,” you narrow your gaze at him, smiling. “A small thing like that would disappear in your hands, Johnny Boy.”

“Disappear?” He tilts his head, raising his hands to hover in front of him. “Ah, they’re not that big, are they?”

You shift, and, nearly without thinking, you slip your hand to sit above his. Johnny makes a noise in the back of his throat, eyes going wide as you reference the size of his grip under yours, but allows you to regardless. A blue gaze slides to your face, openly imploring, before they dart back down to your shared hands as the roughness of his callouses scraped against your flesh.

“Care to compare?” You smirk, lifting a brow.

Johnny’s lips parted quickly, blinking a few times as he tried to find the words to accompany his running mind. He clears his throat, but the small sheen of red pigment on his cheeks is undeniable.

Laughing, you detach the connection and pull ahead, leaving the man behind as he stutters with a fast pulse.

“You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” is what he decides minutes later, a large grin on his face—he was enjoying this, for whatever twisted and flawed reason, he was. John’s adrenaline was pumping, his heart was pounding, and his feet were passing over the earth, yet, even better, his brain was sparking at a mile a minute for the woman who walked only three feet ahead of him. He watches you take these trails like an expert, not having to look down at your feet as stone and wood are passed as if you were water above them, whispering and nearly silent.

“At least I’m not boring.” Your eyes meet him, and in them, they create some horribly beautiful amalgamation of twin flames—two sparking fires that feed from the same ember. “You would never catch me becoming a housewife, Johnny Boy.” Your gazes never break. “There are far too many things to steal in this country, and so very few men who can keep up.”

John’s chest moves in the beat of his pulse—his attention wholly transfixed upon the sight of this wild-born woman whom he’d only met yesterday. There were leaves in your wrap, and brown-black mud coated up to your ankles, even sweat sitting at your temple, yet you moved with grace befitting a Lady: never seeming to tire of jokes or firm surety. Yet…you weren’t cruel—you weren’t without purpose.

Any accomplished thief would have just stabbed him and taken what they needed in your house. You offered John water, however, you chose to give him a chance to comply. It was such a small thing in the grand scheme, but Johnny was always one to analyze how one feather on a bird can affect the flight pattern, so to speak. One action that speaks volumes.

You liked creating games, and, lucky for him, John loved to solve them.

And that glint in your sharp-slitted eyes was becoming more and more enjoyable every second, he found.

Pushing back the strands of his wayward hair, John keeps up with you for every step, not unfamiliar with how to traverse unsteady terrain. He wasn’t lying in what he told you—he had spent most of his life in the forest beside his home: hunting, fishing, riding. There wasn’t an activity he didn’t enjoy when he was outside, though his mother was always heavy on him about the mess he brought back.

Blue eyes drop back down to your dirt-laced pants, and the man can’t help but give his best, lip-pulling smile.

Hell, if he didn’t know any better, he would say that you were something that made so little, and at the same time so much, sense to him.

“Well, maybe they just aren’t accustomed to hiking, Little Cat-Eyed Thief.”

There was something special in the glances you two would throw one another.

—

Your hands dip into the clear water, fingers open to feel the current drag through them gently.

“If you want a sip,” you say, cupping the liquid and bringing it up to your lips, “it’s safe. This river flows down from the hills—not perfect, but there’s only a small chance it’ll make you sick.”

John comes up and hums as he sits down beside you, folding his legs under him and leaning forward to submerge his arms up to his elbows in water. He sighs, and you hear the river gurgling as the man begins to rub up his flesh, getting rid of all the grime.

“Good to know.” Blue eyes spare you a look as he continues. “What’s this one called?”

“Woodney river,” you answer. “Old Man Jack Woodney ran a water wheel on this river a long walk West. If this place had a name before that, it won’t tell.”

Johnny washes his face, scrubbing at his stubble as the scratch of it plays in the side of your ear. You watch along the opposite shore, eyes going from trees to birds—even to the shadows of fish that quickly swim past. Sighing, you have to admit the beauty of this adventure. There were few times you could say you’d gone this far into the woods with no wealth to trade in with the townspeople.

You side-eye John and study him just as heavily as you do a wild animal.

He wasn’t unattractive, you admitted. Strong—sturdy. Johnny was capable in a way that most Lords wouldn’t be, some, you guessed, would already be complaining about the uncomfortableness of their clothes or the flesh of their blistered feet. But John was bright-eyed; more than once you’d seen him actively watching the stretch of the trees for any sign of his pursuers. He never complained. Not once.

“You’re not as insufferable as I thought you’d be,” you say. Frowning, your hands push back into the water and cup some of the chilled liquid. You let it drip before you extend your hand to your neck and feel your eyes droop in relaxation.

Johnny laughs, staring at you for a minute as he slowly raises a brow. His face shows amusement.

“Am I supposed to be insulted or not?”

“I leave that for you to decide.”

John cracks his knuckles and shakes his head as he stands. “C’mon,” he drags, but the smile in his voice is clear. A hand is set in front of yours. “Sooner I get out the port, the sooner I’m out of your hair.”

Your face softens slightly.

“Am I ever going to get an apology for being tossed like a sack of potatoes?” Skin meets skin as you slip your hand into his, and the man pulls you to your feet as you smile. Calluses brush yours, and yet again, you find you enjoy this game—perhaps more than any other you’d played before.

And you don’t understand why.

Johnny’s fingers are firm over yours, curling as water drips to the ground below in reflective droplets, and you think back to the first time you’d met him—panting breath and rapid eyes. Your eyes glance to that boar broach, and find it attached to a man that is suddenly more of a mystery than a closed book.

“Easy,” John mutters, steadying you by your shoulders as you remember where you are. The dark-haired man squeezes your flesh and looks into you.

Blue eyes glint, and that smirk, you find, is always followed by a tiny tint of his head. “And what’s that look for, Cat-Eyes?”

“You called me strange.”

John’s brows furrow. “Aye. I did.” He looks you up and down slowly. “You are.”

You do the same to him, not wasting more than a moment. “And I find it funny that you haven’t said the same thing about yourself. You’re far more strange than I’ll ever be.”

“Guilty,” Johnny smiles, nodding slightly. His hands are still on you, and he doesn’t seem to even notice. “I don’t think a normal one would fuck off from his own wedding, would he?”

“Or kidnap a woman as a guide,” you state, pulling out of his warm hold even as your stomach flips as you brush past

“Again,” John’s hand motions through the air. “Abduct.”

“You’re just saying that because it sounds slightly better,” you grimace over your shoulder. “Like comparing a dog to a wolf.”

Johnny is hot on your heels, and when the river-eroded stepping stones to the other side of the water are the clear path to take, he’s already on the first and holding out his arm for you as a true gentleman would. You glance at him and hop to the first stone, liquid sloshing at your shoes.

Your smirk is stuck with his like two pieces of a quilt, and neither of you realizes it.

“You put a knife to my back first, Dearie.” John puffs and his face is right next to your ear as you both cross the stones—you lean into him and elbow his side before your arm slips into his. The man grunts, blinking as he chuckles above the slosh of water.

“So? Maybe I only point knives at the men I like.”

“Then I’d say you have every right to put one right at my throat.”

Feet move carefully over rocks and the spray of the water that coats them—a dance of wit in their own right. It was like animals circling one another, all sharp eyes and pulled lips trying to find weaknesses. Deadly flirting and addictive banter.

Where annoyance was such a common emotion, now there was a near expectation of jabs; of tantalizing quips for the glimpse of another's mind.

Neither of you could understand the other, which was exactly why you both reveled in the brush of warm flesh.

“Careful,” your feet meet the hard ground once more on the other side, and John only lets go when he knows that you don’t need him to steady you. “You’re engaged, Johnny Boy.”

Your tease slips in one ear and out the other, and the man watches you turn and begin walking again with sly eyes. John’s wide gaze stays stuck there for a moment—mouth eager to continue any conversation given. Watching you walk, his heart beats speedily.

“I think my, ah, reputation has all but ruined my chances on that front—”

There’s something unique about the sound of an arrow sinking into flesh that can’t really be forgotten. John had heard it many times—even been behind the bow that shot it; the slap of the string across his forearm, the set of his shoulder blades widening until the arrow disappeared.

But there’s something worse knowing that the sudden expulsion of air from lungs, in fact, belongs to you and not some wild animal.

You’re hit in a fraction of a second, down on the ground in less than that—your mind not even understanding above the immediate pressure and the slam of earth. You gasp loudly, and then the pain hits.

Hand snapping to your left bicep, your eyes slash down to stare as grass and mud fly into the air, rabid sounds escaping the back of your throat at the image that strikes you. An arrow was stuck deep into your skin—sticking out as blacked feathers flutter at the end of the shaft. The adrenaline hits rapidly, but the expression of horror still remains.

“Cat-Eyes!” Johnny yells, rushing forward, and unsheathing his sword, the sound of metal on metal harsh, but not as harsh as the sound of blood in the man’s ears.

You see the swelling of crimson, and, from under your fingers, the red of blood slips as your breathing gets hoarse. Biting into your lip, the quick sound of an under-the-breath groan of agony ripples.

But you’re not stupid.

Scrambling to your feet with the arrow still poking out of you, Johnny gets to you and pushes you behind him just as your shaking legs straighten—-your eyes slashing the woods in panic. Pain can wait.

The runaway groom spares you quick glances, pushing you further behind as his raging gaze darts this way and that. He yells into the trees, anger and order infecting his voice, “Show yourself!”

Just as suddenly, there’s a relieved call and a moving shadow. You clench your eyes tight and grit your teeth as a wave of pain rockets through you.

“Fuck,” you grind out, lost under the louder voice. Blood drips to the ground.

“My Lord!” Men burst through the leaves, bows, and swords aloft. “Quickly—to us!”

Johnny’s face is stiff; there isn’t an ounce of care, but the flash of recognition is swift, and in his chest, his heart, once beating so quickly, drops to his stomach.

Knights. His knights. Christ, the two of you hadn’t been fast enough.

“Stand down!” John spits, and cares little now for the thought of robbery or assault on his person—these men wouldn’t hurt him, but they were tasked to bring him back. “Fucking bawbags, the lot of you.”

His sword is sheathed by twitching fingers, and no sooner were those digits around you instead.

You pant hoarsely, face tight as your vibrating body tells you to run—eyes locked onto Johnny’s, the man in front of you ushers you over to the trunk of a tree hurriedly, uttering, “Just breathe now, Dearie—listen to me. It’s alright, aye?”

“What is this?” You raggedly push out, flinching as your spine meeting the bark jostles your arm painfully.

Your teeth grit, tears collecting in the corner of your vision.

“Knights,” John mutters as if his words are chased by wolves. “They’re after me—probably thought you were either holding me hostage or trying to lead me into an ambush.” The colorful fabric of his pinned tartan is dragged off from over his shoulder and shoved into your weeping flesh, and you lightly moan in agony, head falling back to the tree.

Tears slip from over your cheeks.

“Easy.” John’s concern is palpable. Worried eyes dart from your face to your wound. “Jesus,” he utters under his breath, anger flashing.

“Who is this?” One of the knights asks, taking a step forward as Johnny holds the fabric to your wound and speaks to you lowly, utterly ignoring the people behind him.

“I need to break the shaft off, okay?” Blue eyes try to keep even, and John’s other hand captures your cheek. He levels your face right in front of his, breathing lowly. The man clears his throat as your tight gaze flutters, tightening his grip. “Hey,” Johnny breathes. You grunt, voice a low grind.

“Just make it quick.”

John’s lips thin. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His large hand swiftly moves to the arrow, gripping around it just where flesh meets wood, you hiss loudly, spitting and raging as your vision partially blackens. Pain sparks up and down your spine, racing like a cat after a mouse.

“Lord,” one knight tries again, coming closer and reaching out for Johnny’s shoulder. “We need to get you back to Castle Campbell—we’ve been hoping to find you unharmed for your future wife’s comfort. Everyone is in a panic!”

“I’ll count down to three,” Johnny whispers to you, breathing heavily as he swallows and steady himself, hand lightly clammy. He wished he had his hunting gloves with him, but this was the best he could do. “Eh,” the man grunts, eyes steady, “You listening, Bonnie?”

“I don’t care what you count to,” you nearly bark, orbs flashing. “Just break the damn thing off—!”

The wood snaps with a defining splinter, and your scream afterward has the man having to hold you up with his arms around your waist, muttering into your ear with his lips against the shell.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” John hears the clatter of the shaft to the grass just as the knight’s hand is heavily placed on his shoulder. “Breathe. M’right ‘ere.”

You sag into Johnny taking in the scent of sweat, blood, and dirt—the musk that stays even as your ears start ringing and the voices start getting louder.

“Best get your hands off o’ me before I break ‘em, Mate” Johnny grunts from deep in his chest, shifting your body to the side and effectively ripping his flesh out of the knight’s hold.

All the others shift nervously—hands on their swords and looking back and forth between the strange scene.

Who were you? A mistress? A bandit luring their Lord away? Why was he with you out here; going in the opposite direction of where the ceremony was supposed to take place? They’d been given orders, and a knight is no good unless he can follow them.

John MacTavish was needed, and their duty was to see it through.

Johnny’s tartan had fallen to the ground behind the two of you, getting kicked by feet as they shuffle and as your blood slips off of your limp fingers. Mind failing, your pain-addled form shakes even as the knowledge of imminent danger is present.

You needed to figure out a way to get out of here.

Pushing your head up from Johnny’s shoulder, your eyes flutter but manage to analyze what little you can see clearly—adrenaline can take care of most of your agony, only leaving a dull ache as your heart continues to rage.

A group of four knights have their hands on their swords, and all of their eyes are on John.

Run, a deep part of you urges. Your legs are still good. Take off—none of them know the terrain like you do. You’ll be free.

You pant, your nostrils flaring with every breath as your sweat trickles off your jawline. Johnny’s grip on you tightens, head shifting back and forth, unknowing where to anchor itself, not understanding which is more important—your state, or your safety.

Free, free, free.

Your mind flashes to an empty house: silent woods. How you would go months without seeing another human face, but that was your own choice.

Wasn’t it?

Your eyes slip to Johnny.

“We’ve been tasked with bringing you back, My Lord,” the first knight says, looking heavily upon the runaway. “We have our orders. Please understand.”

“And I’m telling you your orders are utter shite,” John spits. “So back the fuck up and drag yourself out of this place. Now.” He glares, teeth snapping. “Those are my orders.”

Your arm is numb, and your chest expands as it sits on John’s own. And you think.

You knew you were a selfish person.

There was no debate about it—even when you’d stolen enough coin to feed you for weeks, there was still a part of you that longed for some chase; some challenge to your senses. You liked stealing. You liked the looks on people's faces when they realized they were being swindled for every valuable item they had in their possession. But there was something you liked even more than all of that—a challenge.

Johnny, to you, was that challenge. He was the largest challenge you’d ever faced. A Lord who was running from a bride, a man who held his beliefs higher than praise or standing…a blue-eyed stranger who matches your poking jabs word for word.

“Damn,” your growl, and John takes it as an exclamation of pain.

He grits his teeth and studies you, opening his mouth as his concern grows at the smell of blood.

“We need to tie it off,” he utters. “Bastards made me drop the tartan—I’m sorry, Dearie.”

Your lips are near his ear.

“When I say ‘go,’ run to the left.”

Johnny halts, attention snapping down. His fingers flinch around you, face open until the mask of sudden knowledge flies over it like a curtain. But it’s gone just as quickly—hidden by intelligent eyes that glint.

He doesn’t question you, and, in the crux of your shoulder, you get a near-infinitesimal nod from Johnny’s head.

The guards grow suspicious, all mulling closer by the second the longer you two remain so close—on opposite ends, you feel your heart mirroring John’s in a rapid and ravaging pulse: Thump-thump, thump-pump, thump-pump-thump.

Your attention is split three ways.

One: the rising numbness of your limbs and the heat of your brain. Two: the spread of Johnny’s panting breath across your sweat-slick skin and his hands tightening. Three: knights and the clatter of their armor. How they slide their hands across their weapons like intimate partners—the tension building in a hemp bowstring and the sound of arrows hitting off one another; one taken and played with between fingers so similarly to how you would act.

Your tear-stained eyes glare at the knight who’d shot you, your expression building into an act of hatred.

They take a step forward.

“Cat-Eyes—” Johnny begins to warn slowly.

“Go.” Your words are no shout. They don’t echo off the trees, which all hold their breeze in expectation, they don’t ring in ears except the ones of the man holding you. But they’re like the personification of a sword strike—like the release of an arrow and the impending thump of it hitting home.

The knights dash forward with calls for their Lord to stand down, but John’s already flinched away with a heavy grunt.

You do the same, your plan already formed—you would run the opposite way as Johnny, only slipping off when the cover of bushes had enshrouded the both of you to create two sets of tracks. With any luck, the guards would break off into two groups and pursue the both of you, and you could easily lose yours.

From there, circle back and find John: get your bearings before—

Arms never detach from your waist, and you’re once more tossed into a strong grip.

Eyes bugging, your focus breaks as gravity leaves and your head goes light. Johnny dashes away, and, just as the last time, you’re in his boar-like hold.

“You idiot!” You bark, the only difference to your predicament now is that you’re held in a bridal grip and not slung over his sweaty shoulder. There was only a small sliver of relief before the annoyance overtook you.

Johnny’s body crashes through the leaves, the shouts of the knights following as he gruffly raises his voice to the wind. The trees shake with amusement.

“Thinking you could hand over some directions, Dearie?!”

“Thinking you could put me down?!” You shout back, your arm sparking with pain as your opposite wraps the man’s neck firmly. “Damn.” Your lips twist in response. “My legs work just fine, you know—I wasn’t shot in the arse!”

“Acting like you were,” John grumbles, a branch slapping his cheek before you can. Despite it all, he chuckles wholeheartedly at his own joke.

An arrow whizzes through the air, and you yelp, ducking behind his body even more as your skull fits under his jaw. Your eyes snap to the visible terrain as Johnny’s legs push from one side to the other, running in a zig-zag pattern to avoid any more injuries.

“There,” your brows rise, fighting past the pain to find the familiar slash of a gnarled willow tree that whizzes by in brown and dark green.

Your head rises to see more of the woods, only to be pushed back down by an all-expansive hand as John utters a fast-breathed and firm, “Not the best idea.”

He shoves through brambles, and the sounds of rampaging knights are gaining. The second John sloshes through a low pool with a loud curse, you know instantly where you two are.

“Take a left near the overhang with vines coming down!”

“That one?”

“Yes!”

And so this game continued long after the knights had been lost to the woods, stumbling about without any sense of where they were, and the two of you came to a panting halt an hour later. Deep night was setting in on the second day, and, as your shaky feet hit the ground, John kept a heavy eye on you.

“Steady,” he mutters, sweat pouring off his face; saturating his clothes. He worriedly stares, looking you up and down.

Your vision swirls, the glade around you the exact place you both needed to be. There were hills here—surrounded by thick trenches carved by rivers long dried. The stars were out, and the moon was shining down; one thin trickle of a river was feet away, the sound of water on rocks addictive to your pounding ears.

All of it was null to the way your gut flipped at the humming agony of your arm.

Your hand snaps to the puncture and the flood of blood is enough to leave your fingers dripping with crimson glinting in moonlight.

There’s a heavy ripping sound, and then you find yourself sitting down in the grass as Johnny shoves the torn fabric of his suit into the small river. You hear the splashing as you glance down at your arm before rapidly looking away, biting at your lip as your spine hunches.

“Christ almighty,” you growl, glaring to the side as your fingers quiver. Tears well.

“The arrowhead is keeping pressure,” John hurries to speak, trying to distract you just as his own exhaustion is bare to see. The rung-out fabric is looped around your arm, tying off until you have to strangle down a scream at the tightness on your flesh. “We have to keep it there until there’s enough sterile material to fix it up.”

“Your knights are pieces of work,” you hiss, more from the wound than anything.

John gives a little look, blue eyes darting up until falling.

“Aye, they are.” His strong jaw clenches. “This shouldn’t have happened, Dearie.”

You stare as he finishes up, and you feel his fingertips slipping along your arm. Your eyelids droop, closing as your nostrils suck in shaky air. You take a moment to take in the silence that follows, John’s eyes not straying as your face is illuminated.

He watches the streaks of dirt along your skin, and, in a soft attempt to fix this, he stands and moves to the river once more—cleaning his hands. Johnny takes the rag out of his sporran and wets it, coming back to your body as the grass waves back and forth.

“Let me…” the man says slowly, and your eyes open back up as the chilled item is pushed to your cheek.

Wide orbs staring forward, you swallow as John concentrates on cleaning your skin carefully.

“Infection is my immediate concern,” the man says with a sigh, yet continues as your tongue stays tied; face growing more heated by the second. “But you mentioned it takes three days to the town, aye? That’s not unmanageable with two already under our feet.”

Blood, dirt, and sweat slip away with every drag of the fabric, and, stuck into his suit, that boar broach still sits—crooked now, but still there.

Your attention is momentarily taken by it, and your fingers twitch before you notice how very close John’s face is to yours.

The man focuses, relaying a plan as you’re stuck mute; your arm holding its own heartbeat as the grass shifts.

“I’ll use what I have to get you into a doctor. Make sure there’ll be no problems before I get going.” John blinks, tilting his head. “‘Course, that’ll decrease the amount you’ll get in turn.”

“Fortunately for you,” you breathe, voice strained, and blue eyes stick to yours. John pauses, brows slightly pulling up on his face. “I value my own life too much to complain about a man paying for my care.”

John’s rag stays where he placed it, right on the swell of your cheek as, this close to one another, you can see the scar on his chin—one that curves to the muscle and bone.

He was handsome, make no mistake about it. You knew it; you understood it. A lord with morals and the smarts to go along with the strength—now that was utterly unheard of. You liked that, truthfully. Someone who could think, and plan.

And, of course, follow directions.

“You’ll be fine,” John mutters, glancing to the side, yet his head doesn’t move back. He clears his throat with a sigh.

You roll your eyes, moving out and grabbing his hand with the rag. Johnny’s expression startles, arm tensing as you steal the dripping fabric from him. Water runs down your neck.

“I know I am.” You huff, smiling.

You push the rag onto his own face, and begin your cat-like approval of his character, washing away the grime just as he had your own. A blue gaze stays firmly on your flesh, the man’s shoulders loosening until he’s sitting just in front of you. Verident grass whispers in a language like a soft breeze, and you study Johnny’s skin until everything becomes a mosaic of scars and blemishes—stories woven into sinews holding as much history as the tines on an elk or the chipped tusks of a boar.

Two days and he’d become even more of a mystery than he had been before. Or maybe he always had been, and now your previous contentment had grown into an addictive curiosity.

He’d called you Cat-Eyes.

You couldn’t love a title more—not even if Lady were on the table.

“I settle my scores,” you grunt, tilting your head as you push back mud from his forehead, leaning in. “You wash my face, I wash yours.”

“Literally, then?” A sarcastic eyebrow makes you huff.

“Is that not what I’m doing, Johnny Boy?”

“Seems so, Cat-Eyes.”

Your matching glares hold no venom.

Smirking, you lean back after the last swipe at his forehead, pushing Johnny’s skull back as he chuckles, moon-lit visage something you would see scrawled on the parchment of an old story-teller's sketches. A man not made for this age.

Your face softens slowly, and it is a strange thing sitting atop the sharpness of your eyes.

John’s chuckles fade, and his breath catches in his throat.

“You’re an odd fellow, John MacTavish,” you say, here, with blood from an arrow wound drying to crack along your skin.

Your head tilts, eyes narrowing.

John’s lips slowly pull upwards, and the water on both of your faces drips to the listening earth. This place is alive with possibilities, and all of them stem from the growing draw of twisted human souls.

A just Lord and a cunning thief.

A sharp-eyed cat and a strong-bodied boar.

A future and a past—riddled with arrow marks; long sword slashes.

“Well…then I’m thinking we make quite the pair, Bonnie.”

—

The third day was spent on the latter half of the journey. Re-correcting the course and giving the best directions you could with the numb ache of your arm spreading up your shoulder.

But the town came easily as the midday sun rose to crest your heads.

“Want to lean on me?” Johnny asks, standing close by, but you’re already shaking your head.

“Feels better to keep myself focused,” you mutter, grimacing. You look at the entrance to the town, and as you both walk it, the stares are immediate—shocked residents looking at the haggard appearance of two individuals.

“Alright,” John sighs, side-eyeing you. “Just let me know if you’re goin’ to keel over, yeah?”

“Duly noted,” you tilt your head his way. Your lips smirk like a smug child. “You’ll catch me, won’t you?”

Johnny chuckles, shrugging his wide shoulders as his tattered finery is chock-full of brambles and leaves.

“Can’t say no to that.”

The Lord kept his promise—the doctor took the arrowhead, cleaned, cauterized the wound, and sutured you back up. For payment, as you lightly touch the bandaged section of your arm, you find your eyes freezing as a silver glinting reflects off the light through the window.

Johnny hands over his boar broach to the doctor.

Widely staring at the prize being pawned off for your health, your heart stutters in heavy greed.

No, you rapidly think. No, that was the one thing that I—

Your eyes inexplicably snap to Johnny.

The immediate thought is that he looks angry, but, the next and more accurate one, is that he looks sad.

John’s blues continue to follow the broach as it disappears into the doctor's pocket, and you see the weight fall back to his chest and arms—sitting heavy like a stone. The man’s feet shift along the ground for a moment, and he looks like he’s about to say something before he grits his teeth and shakes his head to himself. John grunts, fixing his nose.

You blink, and then your heart twists in on itself for no reason at all.

Or maybe there was a reason.

“C’mon, Cat-Eyes,” Johnny sighs heavily, tilting his head as his arms cross. “Time to see me off, then.”

He walks out the door, and your eyes follow like a loyal dog.

Standing there for a moment, your lips contort your face into a deep frown, sharp eyes gaining a sheen of light anxiety. Yet, there was no mistaking it—it had been said a million times—if there was one thing you could do, it was play a game.

Maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Oh my,” you mutter, putting a hand to your head and stumbling.

The doctor starts forward quickly, grasping at your un-injured arm. “Careful now, Woman. Don’t rip my sutures.”

He tells you, getting you fully up as you chuckle, placing your hands above his thigh, fingers twitching on the fabric.

“Apologies, apologies,” you mutter, retracting your hand and cupping it against your abdomen with a meek smile. “Just a little lightheaded. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Best be off, now,” the man grumbles, and you’re out the door swiftly.

Your shoes meet the cobble as you shift your hands into your pockets, shifting your body to look along after the large form that leans against the home waiting for you.

“Ready?” Johnny asks, though his attention is firmly planted on the ground five feet away, lost in thought.

“Aye,” you sigh, nodding your head to the East. “Port’s that way—let’s get this nightmare over with.”

“Hm,” Johnny agrees, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Quite the adventure for a runaway.”

“You can’t have thought it would be easy?” Your brows furrow. “You’re heir to the MacTavish lands.”

“I never said I thought it would be easy,” John moves at your side, a great hulk of honesty. He hands over his attention at last as you fiddle with the smooth item in your pocket. He huffs. “Just that it was an…experience, to say the least. One I’m not sure I’d want to go through again.”

“You’ll miss me,” you say confidently, meeting eyes with a smirk and a cocky shift to your form despite the lessening pain.

Johnny watches. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “Aye. I will.” You pause, expression stilling. The man hums, and you swear there’s something special in the way you can describe his look as delicate.

“You were the one part that I don’t regret,” he says lastly to you as if the words aren’t spears laced with poison.

Your breath gets caught in a way it never has, and John seems not to notice as he pulls ahead, muttering about him seeing the docks. The smell of salt water slaps your nostrils.

The legs under you slow until they’re stopped, and you look after the man as he begins speaking to workers along the port, asking for a spot on the large ships that sit in the water, rocking with the winds.

Your eyes trail, seeing the way he talks with such confidence—openly offering physical labor as his payment for even the dark quarters with the other laborers.

After what seems like hours of watching, you see him shake another man’s hand, and, just like that, passage is earned. He jogs back over, smiling.

You open your mouth to say something, but find the words null and void. You don’t know what to express. For once in your life, everything seems to be moving horrifically fast.

“Well,” John’s expression slowly sombers. “I suppose this is it then. I said you could ask for anything, and, I suppose,” he shifts the sword on his belt off after a moment, looking down at it. He holds the item, testing its weight. “I suppose this is all I have left.” Blue eyes slowly meet yours. “If you’ll take it.”

Always a thief, never a saint.

“I suppose it’ll have to do, Johnny Boy,” you sigh, the pain in your heart outweighing the one on your arm. “Hand it over.”

The sword is transferred and slipped to your waist. Many a man on the docks gives you strange looks, and, you find you welcome it—none could compare to the admiration in Johnny’s.

You lick your lips.

“Do one thing for me, hm?”

“Anything,” John mutters, not blinking.

You move forward, and place a firm kiss to his lips.

The man freezes, fingers twitching at his sides, before he sags and bends into you—his great hand capturing your cheek until all that remains in the sear of his heat and the scent of the earth.

You softly pull away, though not far enough as to where you can’t feel his breath on yours. Gazing into his eyes, you smile the widest you can remember.

“Don’t go running away from another wedding anytime soon. I can only save so many Lords until my reputation gets slandered.”

“You’re ruthless,” John growls, smirking as his eyes glint, looking you up and down. “Little Thief.”

He leans in for another kiss, but your hands only shift above his sporran before you dart back, chuckling.

“Always,” your hands brush his sword on your hip as you walk backward, grinning behind the strange pressure in your heart. If someone asked, you wouldn’t even know how to describe it.

John takes a step after you, face open and raw—an emotion you feel like mirroring if not for your excellent control.

Not yet.

“I’ll take care of this,” you call, patting the weapon.

“Good,” Johnny calls, taking one more step forward before stopping himself. One of the shipmates calls from the dock, and his eyes snap there with a jaw tense. He looks back at you and blinks, brows pulling in. In the heat of the moment, he exclaimed, “I’ll be back for it one day, Cat-Eyes!”

“Lovely!” You yell, back turning. “I’ll be waiting for you then. I do hope you’ll be able to get through the woods, and, please, don’t keep a woman waiting! You’re much too handsome for any of that.”

And then you’re gone.

Johnny stares at where you were, his smile large and his face heated, and after a louder call from the dock, he’s forced to turn and jog to the ship, hurrying up the board until he can stand on the swaying deck with his two feet.

He looks around, chuckling to himself, and still, his eyes shift back to land without fail; hoping for a glimpse—a small shadow.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, the man reaches into his sporran for his rag, intent to clean and set it to dry when he’s able to get the chance to settle in. It’s one of the last items to his name no matter how pathetic.

Yet, his hands touch something far more precious.

Johnny’s body goes as straight as a tree when his fingers caress smooth metal, and, slowly, his grip pulls out the silver of his broach.

It glints in his palm as he sets it there, and his breath is stolen in one great bound of shock and confusion.

“What in the…” He already knows.

Johnny’s feet take him to the railing gently, and his body stands there—torn wedding clothes and all looking over a town that begins to move as the ship sets sail. He holds the broach carefully, not intending to let it go for an age. He just needs to lay low for a while. He needs time.

John smiles.

“I won’t keep you waiting,” he mutters to the moving homes, and he swears he sees the glint of a sword from between the buildings, and two sharp eyes digging into him.

You’re there, of course. Hidden as always.

You want your trees back, and you think that a day of sitting in your Oak is a good idea.

There’s dirt on your face again—your lips are chapped and your face is bitten by the wind; scars and blemishes that time won't heal but make all the more visible as the ages pass by on bird’s wings and cat purrs. Yet here is an action held immemorial.

A gift given freely by a thief is one to be treasured like pure gold, and the man on the ship knows that more intimately than any other as he clips the broach to himself with a hum.

You both watch the other from opposite, distant points until there’s no sun in the sky left to see with. Just a faint hope lights the way: the hope that your eyes will grace each other's visage, at the very least, just one more time in your life.

There was never a story so willing to be experienced than that of a runaway groom and his cat-eyed Thief.

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

1K notes · View notes

iiseor · 3 months

Text

⋆𐙚 ₊ summer strikes . . . (1)

synopsis: forced by joel to spend the summer in a small town consequent her agreement to get sober—ellie's acceptance towards the situation grows significantly the moment you cross paths.

cw: alcohol/drugs, mentalhealth issues, ellie is not Joel's daughter in this AU, she just stays with him for context! word count : 1.9k. Tags: @boobdrug @seraphicsentences @amberputh sorry this is short . . i didn't wanna wait any longer to upload it. Next part will be longer . . . master list

" i don't understand why this was your first option?" ellie huffed as she planted her bags in the back of Joel's truck. "It's what's best for you" he replied, slamming the door as he got inside — ellie following. "Yea whatever" she scoffed.

For ellie days had been longer, the nights nearly decades, trailing behind her filled with nothing but misery. She had been locked inside for weeks, terrified of breaking her promise to joel.

the promise that she'd get sober. Straighten up and stop self sabotaging. Fix everything, stop acting out, become an adult and do good. She knew the consequences, she knew how he'd look at her if things got even worse. So she did her best, locked herself away from anything and everything that could possibly make her relapse.

But to joel, that was even worse.

His soloution? Taking her to an entirely different places to stay with his cousins family.

In a small, quiet town where she couldn't.

possibly be tempted to do bad.

Right?

The road trip was hours, tho felt like minutes for ellie who was asleep for nearly the entire ride, only waking up right before joel had pulled in the driveway. Which happened to be more than enough time for her to take in the beautiful scenery — and beaming sun.

"Miller!! Long time no see" the brown haired man yelled from the drive way as Joel pulled in.

ellie was stunned by the view ahead of her, a beautiful—yet typical country house surrounded by acres of trees, bushes and green grass, accompanied by a small barn, the lake only meters away.

both stepping out of the car, Joel greeted your father in an instant. The two brothers sharing a hug while Ellie breathed in the crisp air. For her, it felt like this was the first time she breathed freshly in years—soaked in sunlight opposed to narcotics, scents of salted ocean water and oak filling her senses.

"Someone's gotten taller" tommy motioned to ellie, her head still facing the clouds before she slowly came back to reality.

"Ready to check out the place kid?" He added, patting her on the back as Joel lifted the final bags out of the truck and put them on the pavement for Tommy to grab. "Sounds good.." Ellie sighed out in response, picking up whatever bags she could to carry inside. "Now holdon" Joel called out

"make sure you behave, and no going against old man's rules. He'll keep u in check while I'm gone, but just a reminder" he said pulling her into a hug. "Yeah yeah I got it" Ellie said pushing him away and following inside.

"See you later" they both called and waved as Joel hopped back in the truck.

and that was it for ellie.

the end of something, the start of another.

from the start, and all over again.

she had one last chance to get better.

Tommy sighed as he sat the last of Ellie's bags down on the living room floor, brushing his hands off and placing them on his hips—Ellie standing awkwardly like a confused puppy. "Welp, there's not much to the living room or kitchen... pretty generic... um, take a quick look around if you'd like and ill get these bags to your room" ellie was about to open hee mouth, protest that she could carry them up herself—but before she could, Tommy was already yelling up the stairs.

"Y/n can you come help me?" He called out. Y/n... Joel didn't mention there would be more company..

your foot steps marched quickly down the stairs, skipping a step on the way down.

Paint stained overalls flashed the girls eyes as you stood before her, paint brushes still in hand as you hoped off the final step.

"Oh hi Ellie" you spoke, so sweet and soft—flashing a smile.

she knows my name, how does she know my name ? ellies mind spun between the vision of you and the words you spoke.. already driving her crazy.

"H... hey" she choked out, almost jumping back as you stepped closer to her, holding your hand out for her to her grab onto.

you stared at her with a smile for a minute while she looked back at you like a deer caught in the headlights. For a moment, she was completely frozen—only for seconds before you picked up her hand and shook it for urself, smiling through the process and breaking her still shape, your touch sending sparks through her body.. "Nice to meet you" "I'll help you take these upstrairs!" You said, letting go of her hand picking up two of the bags and walking past her to go back upstairs, ellie still half in her day dream doing the same.

"Here it is!" You told, placing her bags inside and stepping out of the way so she could do the same. In front of her was four empty walls and bed framed mattress, "I took everything down, I figured you'd wanna decorate it your own way" you said with that soft smile again. "Yeah... thank you" she said forcing a smile back.

It's not like she wasn't thankful , of course she was. How couldn't she be when you were so fucking sweet to her already? she was so love struck she didn't know how to smile genuinely, or think of anything besides how good you looked—despite being caught of gaurd by her quick arrival. "Ill let you settle in" you spoke, breaking the awkward silence, "the closet is over there for your clothes and if you need any extra storage bins my dad can bring them up" you added. "if you need any help let me know!" knodding at her, you walked away.

Ellie's body ached as she looked around the vacent room, feelings sunk into her body and whithered throughout her veins 'I promised Joel' was all she could think of 'this is my last chance' she whispered to herself. Staying here with you and tommy wasnt the thing killing her inside, not in the slightest. it was the ringing notion in the back of her head that continuously told her to start again, to drink again, ruin everything and go back to her old ways, that made her want to tear everything apart.

for now, all she knew is that she had to build willpower. She couldn't let herself get worse. Not in front of tommy, not in front of you... not under the promises she made with Joel.

knock knock

"You good In here girl?" Tommy's voice broke hee out of a second trance and made her jump, turning to see the man just above her eyes. "Didn't mean to scare ya" he chuckled moving into the room, "its alright..." she breathed out. The room fell silent for a few moments, Tommy picking up a few of ellies things now scattered throughout the floor and putting them away for her. "This used to be Joel's room you know... before he was a grown ass man" he laughed, Ellie pushing a smile. "But I'm glad you have him and he has you, I can tell he wants what's best for you and I'm sure you'll find it while here" looking around the room he added, "Come down for dinner when your done, yeah?"

"Yeah" she agreed, tommy walking away while ellie turned her gaze towards the crystalline window, sun beaming onto her warm freckles.

One last chance she repeated.

Ellie only took an hour to finish her room, about the same amount of time it took tommy and you to finish cooking. She didn't bring much to decorate. some old band posters joel had gifted, her comic books, her journal and her guitar. The important things in her mind. She paced back and fourth throughout her room for almost ten minutes out of the hour she set up, staring at herself in her bathrooms body length mirror for another ten before building up the courage to face dinner.

"Done already?" Tommy questioned as Ellie made her way towards the kitchen, her eyes scanning and spotting you setting up the table. "Uh yeah" she replied standing awkwardly, Tommy's eyes faced her with confusion. "You can sit down you know, make urself at home"

"Right..." she replied again, sitting down at the table you had finished placing silverware on. "You like fish right? Joel didn't tell me any dietary preferences or anything so I tried to keep it simple for tonight" tommy smiled setting a plate of freshly cooked salmon, vegetables and rice down in front of ellie—and you who had joined her at the table.

To be honest, Ellie hadn't had a real cooked meal in months. Between the alcohol, and just overly terrible diet, salmon and rice sounded like a luxury to her. Let alone vegetables.

"This is good .... thank you" she told, not hesitating to taste everything in front of her.

Tommy sat down in between you two, the three way table being jsut enough space, you all silently eating till a thought popped into your head. "Oh! Ellie, have you seen the lake yet??" You questioned, Ellie giving you that dear caught glance again—Quickly clearing her throat before stuttering out. "Oh um .. kind of... I caught a glimpse of it" she replied, trying to contain the sudden shivers that went down hee body as you spoke to her. "Oh ! Well that's not good enough... its truly beautiful out there, especially when the weather is nice ! we should go fishing tomorrow, then you can see it for yourself" you rambled on, Tommy subtly knodding his head in agreement before swallowing his food and given a spoken one, "I agree, it'll be good for you girls to get to know eachother now" he spoke.

ellie—not against the idea ... more so embarrassed over her next words. "I um.... i don't know how to fish" she said lowering her head to her plate. "Joel never taught you?" You questioned. "No" was all she responded, slightly meeting your gaze, noticing tommy's semi shocked expression in the corner of her eye. You hummed for a minute, taking another bite of your food and a sip of your drink.

"It's okay then, you have me now! I'm probably better than him anyways" you laughed in response, Tommy laughing along as he stood up, gathering all of your now empty plates and dragging them to the sink.

Ellie stood up to follow him, but before she could touch a dish tommy stopped her "Don't worry about it kid, I got it, you go settle in" he patted her on the back setting her off—you already making your way up the stairs, though not fast enough to miss ellie before she got to her room. "Goodnight ellie !" You waved as you walked towards your door, ellie caught off gaurd by you once again and nearly stumbling into her room. "Night" she called back awkwardly, just awkwardly enough to make you frown in confusion by her lack of energy returned. Unknown to you, she was already slapping her hand on her face for how stupid her response sounded as she closed her door and sat on her bed.

As she layed away, thoughts poring into the moon lit night as crickets cherped outside her window, her wondering mind kept replaying the sound of your words in her head. "You have me now".

That sentence ... your words ...

she has you now .. even if you didn't mean it the way she thought, even if it was an empty statement. Somebody thought she had them ... she has people.

she has another chance to make it all right.

428 notes · View notes

fursasaida · 7 months

Text

In just one month, approximately 462 hectares (4.6 million m²) of woodland, "notably pines and oaks, as well as around 20 hectares of centuries-old olive groves," have been destroyed by Israeli airstrikes, said Georges Mitri, Director of the Land and Natural Resources Programme at Balamand University. Since the escalation of tensions between Hezbollah and the Israeli army on Oct. 8, the latter has used white phosphorus to set fire to forests and fields in border areas. The 1980 Geneva Convention, which Israel has not signed, prohibits the use of white phosphorous on civilians and in civilian areas due to its devastating effects on humans, animals and the environment.

[...]

Amid the ongoing economic crisis, the attacks targeting olive groves ahead of harvest season have a major negative impact on the local economy in the area. "Traditionally, people gather around the olive trees, harvest their crops, press their oil together... A big part of their lives is being lost," lamented Younes. “The olive trees being burned are centuries old," he pointed out. “If we were to replant them today, how long would it be before these fields became productive?” Giving an estimate of the economic losses attributed to the daily fires in the South, Mitri put the figure at nearly 20 million dollars. In the long term, Younes is particularly concerned about the environmental impact of the phosphorus bombs. "We have no choice but to wait until the end of hostilities before assessing the situation on the ground," he said. In Younes’ view, the greater the rate of absorption of phosphorus into the soil and water, the greater the risk of dramatic long-term consequences on Lebanon’s environment.

I'll add here that southern Lebanon has never fully recovered from 2006. There are still unexploded cluster bombs in the ground, killing and maiming people. There is still chemical contamination. The economic impact on agriculture has never been fully recouped. The cancer rates are still elevated and unaddressed. The labor structure and which crops are grown changed after 2006 and have never reverted. I remember weeping watching the bombing of Gaza in 2021 as I was in the middle of writing a paper about the long term legacies of the July War in Lebanon, with these additional long-term violences of the bombing at the forefront of my mind along with the immediate deaths and tragedies. This is a horrifying compounding of an existing injury, at a time when Lebanon is in economic free fall and (as the article also explains) in the middle of fire season, and with firefighters unable to do much because the area is. being bombed.

#lebanon #israel #waste #contamination #agriculture #UXOs

841 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months

Note

Can you do a luke fic? Maybe some angst 🤭

I lobe angst sm! This is the song I listened to for inspo,,

𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 ℴ𝓃ℯ

MASTERLIST

Warnings- Yes I used the TikTok trend what abt it, reader gets stabbed, betrayed, mention of blood and scars

“Luke?” Your voice was quiet, he knew that voice though. He knew your voice. He snapped his head, suddenly dropping his sword. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared into your eyes.

“Y/n.”

Percy laid on the soil beneath him, your lip quivering as you stared at the scene in front of you.

“Luke… what are you doing?” You said, stepping closer to him. You were quiet still, your heart beat practically out of your chest.

“Y/n, you have to listen to me-“ he started. Percy stood up.

“Y/n, don’t listen to him.” Percy interrupted. You were torn.

Luke ignored Percy, stepping over to you now. He grabbed your face as you looked at him, face full of confusion.

“Kronos… has a plan for us, for you. And I want a future for us-“

“Kronos? Luke, what are you talking about?” You said, tears threatening to fall. “Why are you talking like that?”

“He can give us a better life than the Gods, I need you to understand, we can be free. Free from the Gods, free from Camp, from the rules. We have to leave soon-“ He spoke quietly, as if you were going to break if he spoke any louder.

“Are you sick? Is something wrong? Did I do something?” You asked, tears now falling down your face as you looked at the man you thought you had known.

“No, you didn’t do anything. Think about it, when was the last time you even spoke to your parents? Your mother?”

“That doesn’t matter, Luke.”

He grew more agitated at your words.

“I love you, why can’t you make this easier?” He asked.

“I loved you. Luke, you’re not the man I fell in love with. Whoever… this is, is not my Luke.” You gestured to him, his heart broke as a lone tear fell down his face now. The words he knew were true but didn’t wanna hear.

But with his sadness, comes more anger. You were taken aback when he pulled out his sword, Percy tried to run up and stop him but he was too slow.

He stabbed you, in the side. Not fatally or deep, just enough to injure and bleed.

You cried out, and once the anger was gone, he felt worse than he ever had.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He said to you, looking back at Percy and then running into the portal, away.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked, quickly coming over to you.

You groaned, lifting up your shirt to reveal your cut to Percy. He flinched upon seeing it.

“C’mon, let’s go to the medic.” He said, helping you stand up and walk.

You took a walk through the forest, it was a lot quieter now. It was dark out, and you were supposed to be in bed. But Dionysus is too drunk to notice anything and Chiron isn’t looking.

Your mind went to Luke. It had been for the last couple months. Every time you saw converse, an oak tree, curly hair, or even brown eyes. You pretended for a moment it was him, and for those moments you were happy.

You didn’t hear someone coming up behind you until you heard a branch snap. You turned around, furrowing an eyebrow as you tried to see what or who it was.

A familiar figure came into your view. You could see that curly hair and know it was him from miles away.

You stood straight, breath catching in your throat as he came closer. You looked down at his hands, no sword.

You pulled out your sword, and he held up his hands.

“Please. I just wanna talk. That’s all I want.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, and you looked at his pleading eyes. The eyes you knew you couldn’t resist.

You put it away for now, and you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m sorry. I…” the words were lost in his throat when he saw your gaze. It wasn’t loving like it used to be, it was more hateful.

“You stabbed me.”

“I know. And I’ve felt like shit, ever since I haven’t seen you.”

You could tell, his hair was disheveled, the bags of his eyes heavier and darker, he looked malnourished.

“You stabbed me.” You repeated.

“How bad is it?”

You lifted up your shirt to the scar it had left. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and he stared into your eyes again.

You swore to yourself if you ever managed to run into him again, you wouldn’t cry. But, you couldn’t help it.

The man you had loved for years, the man who had always been there for you, the one who helped you through everything.

“I still love you.” You managed to blurt out the confession. You sat down on a tree’s roots, putting your face in your hands as you choked out a sob.

He sat next to you, rubbing your back as you cried.

“I love you too. I’m sorry. For everything.” He said quietly.

You eventually curled up next to him, he just threw his arm around you like he used to.

“Can we still.. be friends?” He asked hopefully.

“I don’t think we can, Luke.”

“So.. this is it.. for us?”

You nodded, “I guess it is.” Your lip quivered as you said the words. He took a deep breath and stayed quiet before speaking again.

“In another universe, I imagine we would own a beach house or something. We would be off on our own.” He said, “then eventually we’d get married. Have kids or something.”

“Why not this one?”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo disney+#pjoverse

583 notes · View notes

probablyasocialecologist · 4 months

Text

A new study by researchers at the French National Research Institute for Agriculture, Food and Environment (INRAE) reveals that in Europe, the forests that are most resilient to storms are those with a greater diversity of tree species and dominated by slow growing species with high wood density, like oaks. The researchers also found that the positive effect of tree diversity on resistance to storms was more pronounced under extreme climatic conditions, such as the hot-dry conditions of the Mediterranean region and the cold-wet conditions of northern Scandinavia.

[...]

“An important takeaway from our study is that monocultures of fast growing species such as pine, although valuable from an economic point of view, are more susceptible to storm damage. In a context of increasing storm losses across the continent, our study therefore argues for forest management practices that promote diversity and slow growing tree species such as oak.”

#trees #forest #ecology #conservation

517 notes · View notes

skookworks · 1 year

Text

Skook WiP #101

Welcome back! These Days It’s dark. Dark when I’m writing this. Dark when I go to work at USPS. Getting dark again when I finish my deliveries. We even had some dustings of snow. I suspect that it’s winter. It’s the 2nd of December. I kinda sorta participated in National Novel Writing Month in November by expanding Daughter of Spiders. When I first thought of adding to Daughter I’d planned to…

View On WordPress

#comics #medusa dusting #Mighty Nizz #page 9 #process gif #turn to stone #View from an Oak Tree

2 notes · View notes

compact-turtle · 7 months

Note

So I’m my area, I’m in the country, it’s pretty common to see women just in their bikinis laid on a blanket/chair out in the yard to tan. It’s the country, ya know? No one sees you, except for whomever lives with you. It’s just something we do. How would Atticus feel about that tho? Seeing his darling in skimpy bathing-suit laying outside to tan??

I'm slowly and steadily finally going through my inbox after five months. Sorry to everyone if I don't make it to your post there's like 100+ things in my inbox :(

That would be so sweet actually. Imagine him getting butterflies and everything seeing you openly tan in a skimpy bathing suit.

----

Content Warning: slight n--s--f---w.

-Today was a mandatory laundry day for Atticus. He was officially out of clean clothes. Everything was dirty and starting to smell worse than the cows on a hot day. Of course, he didn't mind it too much, but you were here. What would you think if he didn't keep up with his hygiene?

-A basket of wet laundry was at his feet as he started to pin them up to dry. He'd much rather be out milking the cows or tending to the crops than doing this. Still, it gave Atticus time to be lost in his thoughts.

-He wondered how long he could stall you from leaving. It'd already been a few weeks since your car broke down and he knew everyone was getting antsy. Especially, after working so much on the farm.

-To combat this, he started giving everyone more breaks and days off. He even attempted to encourage them to view this as a "rent-free-all-expense-paid-vacation" in a beautiful rural setting. Thankfully, all your little friends seemed to be airheaded enough to believe this. They ain't got a lick of sense to them.

-His attention was pulled away when he noticed you from the corner of his eye. He tried watching you discreetly; wondering what you were doing. In your hands, there was a large blanket and a tote bag. You were dressed in a long white t-shirt that reached barely past your butt.

-You threw him a warm smile along as you walked past him. You stopped near an oak tree and began to lay out your blanket. Gently, you set your bag down and then took out a few items.

Perhaps you were out on a small picnic today?

-He watched slack-jawed as you removed your t-shirt to reveal everything hidden underneath. The silhouettes of your body seemed to be chiseled by the hand of a celestial sculptor. He'd gladly worship it, adorn it with jewels, anything you wanted. Your skin was like a holy text, inviting him to devote himself even deeper.

"Looks like you're begging for a mighty big sunburn there," Atticus said as he walked up. His gaze cast down as he avoided eye contact.

"No worries! I brought sunscreen with me! Actually, could you help put it on my back?" You asked as you searched in your bag for a bottle of sunscreen. You pulled it out and handed it to Atticus with a bright smile.

-He nodded, then took the bottle from you. Slowly, he poured the sunscreen into his rugged hands. He gently began to spread it out on your back.

-Atticus nervously wondered if you minded his calloused hands. Were they scratching up your back? Or was it making you regret asking him?

-Still, more than anything, he was giddier than a schoolchild. He loved the way your skin felt underneath his hands. Your skin was like a delicate canvas, soft and flawless in his eyes. This felt like a privilege to trace his fingers all across your back. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to touch the skin underneath your clothes.

"Atticus, it hurts. Be more gentle." You tenderly mumbled, "Don't push into my back so hard."

-He felt something familiar rise in his lower area. it took everything in him to not pounce on you right now. Atticus would love to litter kisses all over your back. He'd kiss every part until you were tired of it all.

-He desperately wanted needed to rut into you. To show, that he could satisfy you in any compacity you wanted. He imagined your voice moaning out in a breathy tone, begging him to just go harder and faster. Of course, he’s comply with your demands and go as faster as you want. Then he’d lean down and suck y-

"That should be good now, Atticus. Thank you for the help." You said as you flipped yourself around to face him.

-His eyes briefly dipped down to view your whole body. Another small wave of imagination rolled over him.

"No problem. Seems like all your little friends disappeared."

"It's sweet that you're worried about them! Everyone is swimming in the creek nearby. I was going to join them but figured I'd tan instead. I haven't been able to do it all summer. Especially due to our road trip."

"I see. Where'd ya get this tiny piece you got on from? Don't look like it covers much of anything."

"Oh, does it make you uncomfortable? I can go and change if-."

"No. It's fine. Just go on back and do your own thing." Atticus interrupted quickly, "Don't mind me."

-He watched as you laughed and nodded. Atticus turned back towards the house. His pace was unusually brisk with heavy panting.

-The laundry could wait. He had more important things to do right now.

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

(That may or may not involve fantasies of you two in some intense yoga positions)

764 notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

Text

Love Sucks I. The Beginning

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader He's just a gloomy, little guy.

The Masterlist 🩸

You found him in a graveyard.

Mournful looking, as one normally does when visiting a loved one. Skin a little sallow, a perpetually faded tan that you noticed never seemed to return, not even on the warmest days. Brown eyes, sad eyes. Honey hair with a small white-grey patch in the midst of it all, only found when you hunted for it, a clue to his past, of what had happened to him. He was tall, pretty.

Really pretty, in a gloomy sort of way. Melancholy, maybe. And you realised as you passed, laying flowers by your grandparents names, that the boy wasn’t visiting any grave at all. He was lingering by the tree line in a way that should’ve screamed ‘danger!’ but he was kicking a rock and pulling leaves from the shrubs, shredding them as he sulked. He stopped when he saw you, only a few feet away, his eyes wide, as if he was surprised you were seeing him at all.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to.

“Hi,” you called out, cautious, concerned. You raised a hand, a small wave, a gentle surrender, the summer breeze picking at your hair and blowing the smell of your citrus perfume over to him.

The boy raised a hand back, eyes still shocked. He pressed his lips together and stayed in the shadows that the trees gave before he answered. “Hi.”

And that was it.

He walked with you to your car, a slow, lazy pace that both of you didn’t hurry, too busy sharing shy glances to want to part. He was called Steve and he didn’t live around here, not usually. He was your age, or there about and he was only in the graveyard because it was quiet.

His vague answers were as much as you could get out of him, everything told to you in a soft, tired sounding voice. He had bags under his eyes, lilac coloured things that made him look like he hadn’t slept for a decade and when his hand brushed yours by accident, he was colder than he should have been for someone standing in the sun. And when you finally got to your car, the front seat still smelling like lilies and lavender, Steve tilted his head and looked sad at the thought of you having to go.

You asked him if he had dinner plans that night, he gave you a shadow of a smile and touched his fingertips to his lips, almost as a subconscious thought. He shrugged, looking gloomy once more, saddened at the thought of having to tell you:

“Kinda, yeah.”

But then he told you he’d be around tomorrow and maybe you could meet then? Maybe go for a walk, a coffee or something. So you said yes, barely concealing your smile, unsure what it all meant since the boy hardly seemed flirtatious but when you clambered into the front seat of your car, you let out a squeal all the same.

It didn’t occur to you that it was odd the boy had disappeared by the time you’d looked in your rear view mirror, nothing but air and the slowly falling leaves from the old oak trees, a sign that fall was coming soon.

After that, Steve was yours. And you were his, one not usually anywhere without the other and his melancholy was lifted with your contagious joy, your overwhelming excitement calmed by his gloom. A ray of sunshine and a rain cloud.

A girl and her vampire.

Not that you knew that, not yet. Not quite then.

Then one day, maybe a month or so later, Mike and Lucas upset El and the shelves she was standing next to fell to the floor, books ripped at the spines, screws scattering across the floorboards. And everyone had looked at Steve with wide eyes, ashen faces. It had taken a little bit of time to explain and the boy really hadn’t shown much surprise.

And just when you were ready to approach him, kneeling onto the couch cushions beside him, hand offered in support, Steve had blinked and looked up at everyone just as he parted his lips and let his canine teeth stretch out from his gums, sharp, brilliantly white and pointed.

Nancy had gasped, some of the kids shrieked, Eddie had cackled wildly and you’d waited a beat before reaching out to skim a finger over Steve’s bottom lip, the pad of it grazing the end of one fang. With one supernatural kid already under your wing - along with a boy who’d once wanted to keep a demogorgon as a pet - no one in the party was in a position to judge.

When you asked, “how?”

Steve could only shrug. He said he was sure he had died, maybe, only just. Hit on the head, or maybe he’d fallen. Or he’d been brought back by something or someone he didn’t know. And when asked for how long, Steve shrugged again, rubbing his tired eyes and telling everyone that it could’ve been a week, it could’ve been ten years - he only really started counting the days since he met you.

He’d been lonely, moving from town to town until people stopped asking questions and he could blend into grey buildings and tall trees. No one in Hawkins had spoken to him before, not until the pretty girl in the graveyard said ‘hi.’ And it all made sense, really. Because Steve never ate meals with you, just chugged coffee like it was going out of style and snacked on anything dry and crispy. You just figured he was a little strange, maybe trying out for the swim team, or something.

Not that he went to school. Or a job. Or… well, anywhere.

So you blinked and nodded, accepting the fact your boyfriend was a vampire as easily as you accepted that one of your friends kept military level weapons under her bed because other dimensions existed and monsters were real.

Shit happened, y’know?

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #vamp!steve harrington #vampire!steve harrington

875 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Something Sweet

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 636

Summary: You, Joel and Ellie make a stop by Bill and Frank’s place and have just a small moment of real peace.

Author’s Note: This is for Navy and Roo’s slumber party @the-slumberparty week 1 and the prompt bouquet of flowers. When I saw this I was instantly hit with a few ideas but Joel was the first and since I haven’t written him yet I thought this might be a nice start. Thank you both for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you love🥰

Warnings: Softness and fluff

This gives a nod to episode 3 of ‘The Last of Us’ but there are no real spoilers, however, just want to give you a heads up!

You kneel on the ground, the grass soft and cool underneath you and the sun warm at your back as you sift through the tangled vines and leaves. Your eyes catch something bright red and you dig further until you uncover a real treat.

Smiling to yourself you begin to carefully collect the strawberries, your one free hand already full and the fresh smell wafting up to your nose.

The air is filled with the sounds of nature; several birds chirp and twitter in the large oak tree above you and honeybees buzz as they hover over the flowers of the strawberry plant.

You search around the area for something to hold them in and spot an old and rusted watering can.

The serenity of the moment surrounds you and for a brief moment you completely lose yourself in the smell of the strawberries and the feel of the sun.

You’re still headfirst in the plants when you hear the crunching of feet behind you. Your body immediately tenses and you reach for the gun hidden in your boot, the peace you felt vanishing on the breeze.

With a sharp turn of your head you spot Joel walking up to you, one hand hidden behind his back. The tension seeps out of you at the sight of his handsome face and even through the weathered lines around his eyes you can still see the softness that fills them.

“Guess what I found?” you ask with a small smile.

He lifts his eyebrows in question and waits.

You stand and show him the contents of the watering can. With a smile teasing the corners of his mouth he reaches his hand inside and pulls out a strawberry, brushing it off with his fingers. He holds it up to your lips.

You take a bite and close your eyes, giggling around the sweet taste. When you open them his gaze is lingering on your mouth and he brushes his calloused thumb over the corner, wiping away a stray drop of juice.

Reaching your hand up you grab his wrist and bring his palm to your cheek, leaning into his touch.

“What do you have back there?” you ask.

You playfully try to peek around his body but he blocks your view and takes the watering can from your hands.

Without a word he presents you with a bouquet of wildflowers neatly tied together with a frayed piece of old rope.

Your eyes meet and he graces you with a lopsided grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I know how much ya love ‘em darlin’,” he says quietly.

“Joel,” you whisper, taking them in your hands and holding them up to your nose.

You inhale a mixed but fragrant aroma and gently finger the soft and colorful petals.

“Thank you.”

He gathers you in his arms, plucking the bouquet from your fingers and resting it inside the watering can.

“I wish we could stay,” you admit quietly, relaxing your palms on his chest and toying with the open buttons of his shirt.

He doesn’t waste time with an answer he can’t give and tightens his hold on you, drawing you closer.

A soft breeze blows and rustles the leaves above, allowing a shaft of bright sunlight to slip through, bathing you in a warm glow. Your arms circle his neck and you comb your fingers through his salt and pepper hair before they slide down to caress his scruffy cheek.

His eyelashes flutter closed and he leans into you, trailing his nose along your neck.

His eyes burn bright with all the words that hang in the small space between you and just as he dips his head, brushing his lips across yours, he whispers, “no matter where we go ‘m gonna make sure you always have flowers.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #the last of us

2K notes · View notes

thursdaygxrls · 1 year

Text

Seeing Her

summary - george might (maybe) have a small crush.

pairing - george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer - i don't own any harry potter property. this is unedited because i wasn't in the mood. i don’t own the gif fr.

warnings - just fluff. maybe a little ooc??

He never gave much thought to how full his mind had grown of her until McGonagall struck her desk with her palms. That noise - the searing slap of flesh meeting oak - knocked a sudden realization into the bubbling pot of his mind.

"I do hope you boys are satisfied with yourselves," the older woman chastised through permanently pursed lips, "Professor Flitwick's hair is green!"

"Not purple?" Fred spoke up from next to him.

"This is no laughing matter. You boys are lucky the Professor has a sense of humor. If it were Snape or me in his position, I hope you realize the consequences would be more drastic than detention." She replied. This conversation had fallen upon George's deaf ears, though; his thoughts were much more full of things other than detention:

It was like a dream the first time he saw her - and not just because he had a black eye. He'd just left quidditch practice (or rather, was removed after he and Fred had gotten into a small tussle with the Slytherin bludgers who didn't understand Gryffindor booked the field for practice) when he passed the courtyard. Eye swelling with the beginnings of a bruise, he noticed a hazy glint coming from a line of trees. He could see her; she was only a few meters away, rolling some sort of ring or watch around in a way that caught the light of the fading sun. There was a book in her hands, something with a bright, poppy color, that hinted at it being a pulpy mystery or romance. What caught him the most, though, was her expression; her brows were creased, eyes set in concentration, lips downturned into a frown. Whatever she was reading was pissing her off, and for some reason, the sight of this unknown girl becoming increasingly annoyed at her imaginary tale made his mouth curl into a smile.

George returned to his dorm with that same smile. Of course, though, he'd forgotten about the girl within the hour and found himself following the rinse-and-repeat routine of a mischief-less night. He'd still forgotten when he woke. And when he brushed his teeth. And when he messily knotted his tie.

The funny thing about her was her persistence. He had not even taken a step down the ever-shifting staircase when he saw her. She was far below him and growing farther with every second, but there she was, pulpy fiction novel tucked under her arm. This time, her face was adorned with a grin as she followed (who George could only assume was) her friend towards the Great Hall. This sight caught the boy off guard for long enough that he nearly tripped over his feet when the steps relocated to the right.

George was even more aghast to learn that she was in his potions class. He'd just set down his books next to Fred when an invisible force compelled him to turn around. Following its lead, he found the mystery he'd yet to even consider mysterious seated only three tables away. His eyebrows raised in small bout of surprise as he noticed the the cover of her novel had changed to reveal a more gothic image of a knotted tree: Wuthering Heights. He hadn't cared much to track her progress on the pulp book, but it was still a small shock to see her ready to take on another story. Again, he smiled, noting the title of the new book.

"What'cha looking at?" Fred asked him, interrupting his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, turning away, "Trying to view things from my purple perspective." Fred let out a low chuckle, his bruised cheek raising as he matched his brother's grin.

It wasn't as if George was seeking her out or anything - actually, it was as though she were seeking him. He saw her everywhere, from breakfast, to the halls, to classes, to the courtyard. He even dreamed of her a few times - nothing special, just the image of her resting along the hazy vignettes of his mind. Throughout all this, he had taken a subconscious interest. She ate away at muggle books faster than he'd ever seen anyone do; she loved cheesy and classic romance alike, and no title was safe from her grasp; it was painful to watch her brows knot and furrow as she became increasingly frustrated with what she was reading; when she was around her friends, her eyes lit up like her ring hitting the sunlight. These were easy things to notice, though. It wasn't hard to see how her hands moved wildly as she explained some sort of crazy story to those at her table in the Great Hall. It was so easy, in fact, that George's studies moved from potions to her every time the class began.

Though George had given plenty of thought to her, he hadn't realized just how much thought he'd donated. At least, not while he and Fred were plotting revenge. Though the bruises on the twins' faces healed over a month or so, their egos had yet to heal. They'd planned their revenge perfectly. The Slytherins who'd given them the shiners left dinner around the same time each night. The twins concocted an elixir that, with just one small drop on a person's head, would dye their hair for days. They'd positioned themselves on a balcony above the route which the Slytherins normally took. It was perfect - but, it wasn't. George took in the hall below him, scanning for the unsuspecting students, when his eyes caught something else. Her.

She was in the hall alone, book in hand, but unopened. It was odd. Normally, if she was by herself, she'd be focused intently on a book. But she wasn't. She was gently thumbing the pages of the novel, looking around the hall inquisitively. Was she waiting for someone? Or maybe she was-

Her eyes met his. His eyes met hers.

Not once in the weeks he'd taken up his sudden interest had she actually looked at him. And now she was. No - she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing him, and with those eyes. They were so much brighter when they met you head-on - deeper, too. They held indescribable emotions. Curiosity? Maybe - he didn't know, nor did he really care to, because for five seconds, they saw each other. Then, George dropped his vile of elixir right onto Flitwick's head.

"Anything interesting going on up there?" Fred poked George's head. He hadn't even realized they'd already left McGonagall's office.

"Huh?" He mumbled, flicking his eyes around at his surroundings.

"She's got you bloody whipped, eh?" Fred showed off a toothy grin.

"What? Who?" George nearly scoffed at this sudden accusation.

"The girl you've been ogling at in potions. Your neck is gonna get stuck if you keep turning to look at her." He laughed. George scoffed, shoving into his brother.

"Just ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you. Take her to the Leaky Cauldron, get in a quick snog, and get over it already." At Fred's words, George let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

"Fred, you're mental." He let out a breathy chuckle.

"Nothing else? That's all?" Fred cocked his head, "She must've got'cha good. Maybe a couple quick snogs'll do it."

It was going to take more than a snog or two to get this off his mind now. He didn't even know her name - it was nothing. Just a couple stolen glances. But Fred noticed. When the hell did Fred notice anything? Maybe more people noticed. Maybe she noticed. George squeezed his eyes tight as he lay in bed that night - this strange, twisting anxiety had overtaken him and was turning his entire body inside out. Did he want her to notice?

George decided, as he woke up, that whatever it was he was dealing with, he had to get it over with. Before he did that, though, he would have to start his day. Pushing his toothbrush past his lips, all he could think about was her smile, or the way she frowned, or her lips pressed into a line every time she concentrated. When he tied his tie, his thoughts traveled to her wide eyes, full of laughter. He didn't even know her name.

He had a plan. He was going to talk to her - actually talk to her. He'd show up to potions early, ask her about her book, finally figure out her name. He was so focused on his preparations that when he began to descend the stairs, he didn't notice the oncoming pedestrian traffic, and - boom.

George stumbled back, quickly recovering from whoever he'd knocked into. The recipient of his force, though, wasn't as lucky: they ended up straight on their arse.

"Sorry!" He spoke quickly, "Didn't realize the stairs move." His smile (which had formed only a moment ago) faded entirely when he realized who he bumped into. Her. It was her, and she was early for breakfast.

"They tend to that," she replied, picking herself up. If he were a bit more suave, he might've helped her to her feet. Instead, he watched her stand, almost awe-struck by her movements. His gaze moved bashfully, eventually landing on the book that fallen to the floor along with her.

"Your book." He motioned to it quickly. In an attempt to make up for his lack of courtesy in helping her to her feet, he dove for the novel. And so did she. Their foreheads met with another smack, and they separated themselves before either could retrieve the object.

"Two for two, huh?" She let out a small laugh as she rubbed her head.

"Sorry," he repeated with sincerity as he successfully acquired her book from the floor. Once again, they were looking at each other. Seeing each other. George's lips parted.

"I'm George," he spoke, losing every ounce of confidence he normally possessed.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, "Could I have my book back?" George acquiesced almost immediately. He flashed a small smile that she quickly returned. Then, as the steps shifted once more, she began to walk away.

"See you in potions, George!" She called in an earnest tone. George grinned to himself. It was, after all, somewhat of a success. Even if he did - did she just say 'see you in potions'?

#harry potter #hogwarts #weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley #fred weasley #y/n #george weasley x y/n #fluff #crush #harry poter fluff #thursday writes

2K notes · View notes

phoward89 · 2 months

Text

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, etc

Chapter 4:

“You know, you might want to change into something more casual later- for when we go to the Hobb.” You told Coryo, who had an arm slung over your shoulders possessively while still carrying his sack over his shoulder. It had a few of his personal items in it so you didn't blame him for carrying it around instead of leaving it on your front porch.

“I will, darling.” Assured Coryo, walking with you towards the meadow. “So, how much farther to the meadow?”

“Not much.” You simply told him, spotting the vast green sprawling meadow and the large oak tree in the distance. Pointing it out, you said, “See, it's right over there.”

Gesturing to the meadow and tree up ahead, Coryo chuckled, “It's still quite a walk in this heat to get there.”

“The heat won't really start calming down for another month or so, but sometimes there's an Indian Summer.”

Having never heard of that term while living in the Capitol, he asked, “What’s that, darling?”

“An Indian Summer’s when it's unusually hot in late November, feeling like summer during late autumn.” You explained, causing the peacekeeper to nod.

“I hope District 12 doesn't get that this year.” Coryo grumbled, shuddering at the thought of breakthrough summer weather during late autumn. Ugh, he hates the climate of 12. He prefers the crispness of the Capitol; he's sure that you will too once he gets you there.

And mark his words, he's getting you there. No matter what it takes, Coriolanus is going home to the Capitol with you hanging on his arm.

“You and me both.” You told your new man, electing giggles and chuckles from the two of you. “You know, I still can't believe that I'm your girl.'' You admitted to the platinum peacekeeper when silence settled between you.

“Why not, Y/N? What's so hard to believe?” He asked, pulling you to a stop; tipping your chin up gently so that you'd look at him.

Coryo's crystal blue eyes bore into yours as you admitted, “I dunno, Coryo. I just wasn't expecting you to like me like that’s all.”

“Actually, darling, I don't like you. I love you.” Your peacekeeper confesses with a Cheshire cat grin.

He loves you? But you haven't known him for that long. And, yes, he's sweet and makes you smile- is handsome too, but you're not there yet when it comes to being in love.

“You love me?...” You trailed off in disbelief, your eyes wide as you stare up at him.

Coryo gently cups your cheeks in his hands, while confessing his undying love *cough* obsession *cough* for you. “Y/N, my sweet darling girl, I just knew it was love at first sight when we smiled at each other. That we're meant to be; I’ll show you my love and devotion every chance I get, my little dove.”

You felt a bit overwhelmed by his sudden love confession. You weren't expecting it. You know that Rein and Ashlie aren't going to be so accepting of your relationship with Coryo; that they'll flip if they hear him say that he loves you.

“You don't have to be shy, darling. You can tell me that you love me too.” Coryo sweetly smiled, tenderly swiping his thumbs along your cheekbones.

Coryo looked so hopeful, like a puppy that was excited to see their new owner, and you didn't want to ruin that by telling him you didn't know how to feel. That you weren't in love with him, yet.

Coryo was a nice guy; a good friend that went out of his way to protect you and keep you safe when you first met him. He was concerned about your safety walking alone in the district and he also had no family nearby. He seems easy to get along with.

Maybe you're just nervous because you've never had a boyfriend before?

“I've never told anyone that wasn't family I love you before, Coryo.” You confessed, hoping that would get you off the hook.

Actually, your family rarely exchanges those sentimental words. Life’s harsh in the districts, sentiments aren't viewed as important by your brother: survival is.

“I told you, Y/N, my darling, that you don't have to be shy with me when it comes to such things.” The platinum blonde boy told you, his baby blues shining brightly with obsession- although to you it seemed like adoration. He tilted his head slightly, only to ask in a too sweet tone, “You do love me, don't you, baby?”

You just couldn't say no to him. It'd crush him. Coryo seems so vulnerable right now. You couldn't be the reason that his bright cerulean eyes turned dull. So, you nod and tell him, “Yes, I love you.”

If only you knew how damning uttering those 3 little words would be.

Coryo was a bit unhinged; by telling him that you loved him back you had literally just tethered your soul to him. In this messed up, delusional, touch starved, admiration craving, power hungry, obsessive mind he truly thought that the two of you had some love at first smile bullshit. Coriolanus was desperate for somebody to love him, to be gentle, soothing, comforting, and just unconditionally kind to him, since he's never had that.

To Coryo love is to possess, to obsess, and to own somebody. He over thinks so, of course, he over ‘loves’. But, the thing is, the platinum blonde peacekeeper's so twisted that he doesn't even know what real love is, despite being shown it by his cousin, Tigris. Of course he’s sweet and soft to the object of his affection, it's only natural to be. Plus, if he was mean he wouldn't get the love he craves back, now would he?

Coryo pressed his forehead against yours, feeling like everything was right with the world since you vocalized your love for him. He knew how you felt, but hearing you say it was like heaven on earth. Oh, how he can't wait to ‘make love to you’ err fuck you nicely, to show you the depths of his feelings.

He decided that tonight, after spending some time at the Hobb, he'll have you.

“I'll show you just how much I love you tonight.” Coryo vowed before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Unknown to you and Coryo, Lucy Gray was under the tree in the far off meadow; watching what she assumed was lovers sharing secrets. Seeing Coriolanus twisting you around his finger made her heartsick. She couldn't stick around and wait for the two of you to join her under the meadow’s oak tree.

So, she slung her guitar over her back and took off towards the woods for a quick hike. The songbird was just walking to clear her head; give you and Coryo some time to defile her meadow, her safe space, before having to go to the Hobb and get ready for her show with the Covey tonight.

A show that she hopes you're not bringing Coriolanus Snow to.

“It's beautiful out here.” Coryo told you, leaning against the oak tree while you nestled between his legs with your back resting against his chest. “But not half as beautiful as you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The word beautiful to describe you is an understatement in Coriolanus' mindset. To him, you're the most precious thing in his life. Your kindness and friendly demeanor makes you shine like a diamond in his eyes.

He's never met anyone quite like you before. Back in the Capitol girls are very superficial and shallow. They're caked in makeup, sprayed in artificial scents, and squeezed into the latest fashions- may that be corsets, velvetene jumpsuits, silk dresses, or sky-high heels. But not you.

No.

You're genuine, bright, and vibrant in a world full of misery and falsehoods. You're a ray of sunshine in his life. You, in a way, remind him of his mother. From what little Coriolanus can remember of his mother, Demeter, he remembers how gentle and kind she was. How she always smelled of roses, how she was such a caring person; loved him unconditionally.

Yes, you remind him so much of his late mother. No wonder he loves you so much.

Looking up at the man whose arms were wrapped around your waist, you smiled, “And you're a very pretty boy.”

Coryo bent his head down and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Then, I suppose, we make quite the pair. A beautiful girl and a pretty boy.”

Sighing, you told him the harsh reality of, “Rein and Ashlie aren't going to like us being quite the pair, Coryo.”

Shaking his head, Coryo scoffed, “I don't care what they like or don't like, Y/N. You're my girl, so they need to accept that.”

“What if they never accept you?” You asked, hoping that he wouldn't make you choose between him and your family.

Little did you know that he wouldn't make you choose in that traditional sense. No, he'll make you think that he's supportive; paint your family out as the ones that can't get along with him. And when your family gives you an ultimatum, Coriolanus will be the one telling you that he's the only one that truly loves you; that'll always take care of you.

“Let's just hope that they do, darling.” Coriolanus said, taking one of your hands in his; linking your fingers together. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Of course you're not going anywhere, you're stuck here for 20 years.” You reminded Coryo of the conditions of his peacekeeper duties.

Coriolanus prays to gods, he doesn't even believe in, that he won't be stuck in District 12 for the next 20 years. Honestly, to him that'd be a fucking living hell. The only thing he likes about the muddy, depressing, coal district is you and the meadow. Other than that, the district could burn for all he cares.

Your house was empty when you and Coriolanus returned from the meadow. Rein and Ashlie had gone to the Hobb earlier than they needed to. Neither you nor Coryo brought it up, you both know they're avoiding him. No need to talk about it.

“I know it's not much, but this is my room.” You told Coryo, opening up your bedroom door and leading him inside.

Setting his bag down on the floor, he gave you a thin smile. “It's nice, Y/N.” His baby blues took in the simplicity of the room, only to say, “Looks like the bed might be a tight squeeze tho, darling.”

Coriolanus made a mental note to buy you a full size bed when he gets you your own apartment, closer to the barracks. And he's going to get you your own place. In fact, he'll be looking into it come Monday.

Your eyes widened. You didn't think too much of Coriolanus staying at your house for his weekend leave, but now you're realizing that he's expecting you to share a bed with him- being a couple and all. You feel like it's all very sudden; maybe too much too soon.

“I've never shared my bed with a boyfriend before, Coryo.” You admitted as the two of you went over to your bed.

Sitting down, he smugly remarked, “Of course you haven't, baby. I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had.”

The platinum blonde’s proud that you'll only know him as a lover. He honestly can't wait to claim you tonight.

And talk about tonight…

“How long do we have before we need to meet up with Rein and Ashlie at the Hobb?”

“I dunno. Few hours, maybe.” You shrugged.

“Ah.” Coryo simply nodded.

“I made a wild berry pie earlier, we could have a slice to kill some time.” You offered, figuring that Coryo might be hungry.

“I'd like that.” Coriolanus smiled. “How about you go slice us up some pie while I change into my denim fatigues, yea?” He suggested, causing you to just nod in agreement before leaving him alone in your room to change.

So, while you busied yourself with pulling the berry pie off the windowsill and slicing it, Coryo was getting changed. You'd just finished placing your plates and silverware on the wooden table whenever you heard the heavy bootsteps of your boyfriend coming from down the hall. As you grabbed the small bottle of cream, courtesy of your neighbor Tam Amber's goat, you heard Coryo enter the kitchen.

“The last time I had pie was before being sent here; my friend Sejanus' Ma gave me a slice when I was visiting their apartment.” Coryo told you, his baritone full of nostalgia, as he walked up to the table and took a seat.

“What kind of pie was it?” You asked, sitting next to him at the table.

“Blueberry; Ma Plinth put a scoop of ice cream on it too.” He answered, reaching for the bottle of cream set between your pie plates. Pouring some cream onto his pie, he said, “She sends Sej treats; he shares them with me and our squad.” Gesturing to your pie with the glass bottle in his hand, he asked, “Cream?”

Figuring that he was offering to pour some cream onto your pie, you nodded, “Yes, please.”

“Do you bake often?” He asked, pouring some cream on your pie.

“We can't afford baked goods from the Mellark bakery, so I have to bake pies for us.” You honestly told Coryo as the two of you began to eat your berry pie.

It was true, living in the Seam meant that you're so poor that it's a miracle your family has electricity. Hell, your family doesn't have hot water or a bathtub/shower in the bathroom. The bathtub's an old tin tub. You're lucky your shack house has plumbing for a toilet and a kitchen sink.

You live at the end of the line of the Seam; it's considered the poorest place in District 12. And here you are, sitting at your modest kitchen table sharing a pie you baked with a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper. You couldn't help, but start to feel a bit embarrassed at how poor you were compared to the platinum blonde boy sitting next to you.

If only you knew how Coriolanus grew up in a crumbling penthouse without a pot to piss in, eating watery cabbage soup and congealed potatoes for every meal. Then maybe you wouldn't feel so inferior.

Hearing you tell him that you can't afford to buy anything from the bakery breaks Coryo's heart. It also makes him feel for you in a way he's never felt for anyone before- ever in his life. Yes, what he feels for you is empathy.

Which is a feat in and of itself since Coriolanus Snow is not a naturally empathetic man.

“How ‘bout we go to the bakery tomorrow; I'll get you anything you want.” Coryo suggested, his tone saccharine as the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile.

The idea of going to the bakery to get something excited you. You've never been able to do that before because you've never had the money to. But now Coryo’s in your life and wants to treat you to something from the Mellark Bakery.

Just the thought of it puts a smile on your face.

“I’d like that.” You told Coryo before taking another bite of pie.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence while eating pie together. It felt nice, just spending time with him. If only you knew that he'd be making sure that he's the only one you ever spend any of your time with, ever again.

It was dusk whenever you and Coryo emerged from your house to go to the Hobb. He kept a protective arm wrapped around you while walking to your destination. You got a few judgemental or dismayed looks from people wandering around- mostly headed to the same place you are.

The Hobb.

“So, is the Hobb a bar or a nightclub?” Coriolanus asked as street lamps started to appear, signaling that the two of you are entering the Merchant Sector of the district.

Coriolanus knew that Lucy Gray and her Covey performed shows at the Hobb, but other than that he didn't know much about the place. He wondered if it was something like Pluribus’ nightclub. Or maybe it's smaller, more plain since it's in 12 after all.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s an old abandoned coal warehouse that's been turned into a large black market and dance hall. In the very back there's a wooden stage made of crates that my neighbors perform on; there's also a makeshift bar that separates the market part of the Hobb from the dance hall part.”

“Lucy Gray's your neighbor?” Coryo asked, his baritone full of anger and resentment, as you walked along the cobblestone streets of the nicer part of the district. “I hope you're not friends with the little songbird.” He said very condescendingly.

“Of course I'm friendly with her. Why wouldn't I be?” You told him, only for your brows to knit curiously. Looking up at the platinum blonde, whose buzzcut brightly glows like a halo due to the streetlights, you ask, “Have you heard about her?”

“No, I had the unpleasant experience of meeting the manipulative little bird-boned girl myself in the Capitol.” Coryo spat out, as if the words were sour on his tongue. The peacekeeper wouldn't leave it be. No, instead he went on a rant of, “She's no victor, just a manipulative whore living off her charms while I'm forced to serve here. If it wasn't for me getting her out of that arena and back to her Covey, she'd be dead in a den of rainbow snakes.”

Oh no…The lightbulb went off and suddenly, you figured out that Lucy Gray batted her eyes at him and he wooed over her; causing him to cheat to ensure she became the victor. You don't have a tv, so you don't know what happened, other than Lucy Gray saying that she had to sing for her life and use her snake charming skills at the end. But now you're pretty sure that Coryo cheated; somehow got her scent aka pheromones to the snakes to make her a friendly familiar to them.

You didn't like snakes, but you knew enough about them from what you read in your apothecary book. So you know that your boyfriend had to get your neighbor’s scent into their cage or something before the snakes were dumped into the arena. Dens and pits of snakes will attack strange scents; especially when they feel endangered or threatened.

And now you know why Coryo looks at you like a puppy. He literally has no one, but his friend from home, because he was drafted into Peacekeeper service as punishment for cheating: for rigging the games for Lucy Gray's survival.

“You dropped something of hers into the snakes’ cage, to get them familiar with her pheromones.” You stated, not asked, in a whisper as you spotted the arch up ahead that marked the end of the Merchant Sector and the entrance to the warehouse and coal headquarters.

Coriolanus looked down at you, a proud, but slick smirk on his face. Your background in apothecary aided you in your aha moment about how he cheated. Of course you're smart, you're his girl. His other half. Only his girl would be intelligent enough to put the puzzle pieces together about what he did without having to see the physical evidence.

You're smarter than those fake twists back in the Capitol. Kinder and more beautiful too.

Oh, how he's blessed to have you by his side. He wonders if this is how his father felt when he met his mother? His father was gone a lot, ironically General Crassus Snow was the Commander here in 12 and refused to have his wife and son live in such squalor; would take leave to make family visits, so he doesn't remember much about him. But he does remember how his father's cold icy eyes would lighten up slightly when his mother was by his side; how his deep, stern voice would soften by a slight octave while talking to her.

Yes, the way Coryo feels about you has to be the same way his father felt about his mother. It just has to be; nobody can tell him otherwise.

Coriolanus knew that he couldn't tell you the exact truth of what happened to land him here in 12 as a Peacekeeper, but he also knew that the best lies were actually twisted half truths.

So, he spun you the half-assed truth of, “As my Academy graduation project I was assigned to be her mentor in the games. During one of our strategy meetings, she cried and I wiped her tears with my handkerchief; then when I learned the snakes would be unleashed in the arena, I placed the handkerchief in the terrarium.”

“You got caught when the cleanup crew found the hankie on the floor because it had your name or initials on it, right?” You concluded as the two of you walked under the arch; entering the area the Hobb was in.

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. It's just his dumb luck that he has the same initials as his late father; that he had to use his father's old handkerchiefs because, despite being talented with a needle, Tigris couldn't afford to make him shirts and handkerchiefs- the material has to be used sparingly and wisely.

“Then Dean High-as-a-kite-bottom sent me here as punishment.” Your boyfriend hatefully hissed, sounding like a snake about to strike its enemy.

You wanted to ask why he called his dean what he did, but you never got the chance.

Turning to you with disapproval blazing in his baby blues, he ordered, “I don't want you hanging around Lucy Gray or the Covey anymore. She's no good, Y/N.”

“But, Coryo-” You started to object, only to be roughly cut off by Coryo's bitter snap of, “A girl like her, a lying, manipulative whore that sings on live Capitol TV about living off her charms; whoring herself out, while her ex runs off with the Mayor's daughter, isn't somebody I want my girl to be around.”

Dragging you towards the warehouse people were flocking to, Coriolanus seethed in a sickeningly sweet baritone, “If I say you can't talk to somebody then you better listen cause I love you; just wanna keep you safe.”

Not wanting to ruin the night, which was meant to be a good time dancing with Coryo at the Hobb, you nod and squeak out, “Okay.”

Coriolanus feels that the Hobb's a crowded, dirty, dingy, smoke infested, shithole of a dive bar. Hell, calling it a bar's a bit much since the place’s a warehouse turned into a bar with dancing and live music- courtesy of Lucy Gray and the Covey. Being in a tin building meant that the clanking of boots on the wooden dance floor loudly echoed into the air, bouncing around in the platinum blonde peacekeeper's head like a pinball.

He didn't like it one bit. He'd rather be back home in the Capitol at a proper nightclub. Oh, he makes a mental note to take you to a posh nightclub when he takes you back to the Capitol with him- when the time comes. And hopefully it comes soon because he doesn't know how much longer he can handle living out in the districts like some filthy scumbag peasant.

The excited smile on your face makes him crack a smile. Despite the Hobb being a shithole, being out with him made you happy. You're proud to be seen with him, so he decides to stop getting lost in his head and just enjoy the night with you.

A night that's going to be full of drinking, dancing, and fucking.

The fucking will be after he takes you home, but he's sure that you'll enjoy that too.

As he guides you down some rickety steps that are so rusted he's afraid they'll buckle under his weight let alone yours, in order to get to the main dance floor of the Hobb, Lucy Gray spots you. She nearly fumbles her song at the sight of Coriolanus’ large hand in yours, your fingers laced together, as he leads you downstairs to the dance floor. The look in his eyes unnerves her. His crystal blue eyes seem dark, sinister almost, with an unchecked emotion.

One that Lucy Gray's only seen gleaming in not so nice men.

She continues to sing, watching as Coriolanus spots somebody seated at the tables against the wall. Her worried brown eyes follow you as Coriolanus leads you over to where a big-boned young man with a dark buzzcut and a baby face was sitting. His fellow peacekeeper rose from the table, only to clasped Coriolanus on the shoulder before giving you a friendly hug. The small he gave you and Coriolanus was warm and genuine.

Lucy Gray just hopes that Coriolanus' friend can keep you safe from the cold blooded snake. Because any young man that can lead on a girl, who's afraid to die, and convince her that he cares so she'll stay alive to win him a prize is a man that'll do and say anything to get what he wants.

You're her neighbor and friend; she'd hate for something to happen to you because of Coriolanus.

“Thank you, thank you, everyone!” Maude Ivory called out to the crowd as soon as her cousin finished her song. “This next song, well, you all know it; it's a good’un to do some two-steppin’ dancing, to.” The blonde tween cheerfully announced, stomping her feet. “So, 12, let's have a good ol' time tonight! Let's have it for Lucy Gray Baird and the Covey!” Maude Ivory shouted, causing the rest of the members of the Covey to appear on stage with their instruments in hand.

“Sej, can you get us some drinks? I'm gonna dance with my girl.” Coryo told his friend, who reminded you of a big teddy bear, before dragging you off to the dance floor.

Sejanus didn't even get a chance to blink let alone give his best friend an answer. But, seeing him spinning you around on that dance floor with a look of love in his usually hard eyes and a bona fide smile on his face made it hard for Sejanus to be annoyed with his friend. Without giving it a second thought, he left the table to go grab some jars of moonshine for you and Coryo.

Leaning against the bar was your brother, Rein. He was nursing his umpteenth jar of shine for the day while Ashlie, his girlfriend, worked the bar. He spotted you on the dance floor with Coryo, smiling and giggling as he spun you around with his fancy Capitol moves. Showing off like some big fucking hot shot.

Rein just shook his head and tipped back his jar. He wasn't drunk enough to watch you fall victim to some peacekeeper's affections and advances.

But you know what they say:

Like mother, like daughter.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @nowitsmissing @edb954 @astarborntowrite @devils-blackrose @gentle-aesthetic-bby @elizabeth-nobennet @harvey-malfoy @hannahrachel

178 notes · View notes