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lukesaprince · 9 hours

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Ruin Me H.S

Summary: When the good girl / bad boy trope is just as hypnotic and addictive as everyone says it is OR y/n decides to get Harry's handwriting tattooed on her thigh (badboy/gang LHH trope?)

Warnings: SMUT!! oral (f receiving), edging, spanking (with hand and belt), hair pulling, squirting, masochism, dom!harry, mocking/degradation, dacryphilia, bondage (with a belt), Injuries (black eye, split lip, gunshot wound & wound cleanup)... I think that's it 😅

Word count: 13.7k+

Author's note: This is loosely and I mean SO loosely inspired by Guilty As Sin by Taylor Swift and yeah I know what that song is about but this is based off literally one line in it... I definitely got carried away with the story hehe

- Find my General Masterlist here -

You never liked the bad boy, good girl narrative. The power imbalance and toxicity that came with someone so ruined and so problematic trying to heal his soul in someone that deserved better. She would always think she could change him, that he was just misunderstood and needed someone to love him. That his soul could be healed.

It was bullshit. Until you found yourself in that exact situation, believing just that. That he was misunderstood and so kind underneath his rough exterior. You even found yourself loving the hidden hookups and midnight cleanups. A knock on your door at all hours in the night to be let in for some charged, desperate fuck or to be fixed up because he got in a fight.

You didn’t even know how it started, really. Harry was an enigma. A shadow in the wind that appeared one moment and disappeared the next on a dark bike just as mysterious as he was. That was how you met him, in a fleeting moment which at the time meant nothing. Until it meant everything.

He drove by the cafe you worked at. You were closing up for the night and locking the door when the loud purr of his bike filled the entire street. You were already on edge being by yourself after the girl closing with you had to leave sick so your head whipped around to follow the loud noise.

That’s when you saw him for the first time. He drove through the quiet street with a girl on the back of his bike that you had never seen before, both dressed head to toe in dark clothing and leather. They each had a black helmet covering their heads and yet you still knew that they were both looking at you.

It was unnerving and an interaction that had you walking a lot faster to your car in case they circled back and decided to give you trouble. Your town was used to damaged, dangerous shadows. People like Harry who came in for a night or a weekend for something illicit, only to never return.

You weren’t sure why your small town attracted people like that, but only being a 45-minute drive from the closest big city made it the go-to place for affairs, romantic getaways, illegal meetings and everything in between.

Harry was meant to be like that too. Someone who just passed through. Until he met you.

The very next day he found himself visiting the cafe in hopes you were there. Harry wasn’t sure why he felt the need to go there since he was meant to be driving back to the city the morning after his rendezvous, but there was something about your eyes that he couldn’t get out of his head.

He didn’t even know if you’d be there and yet by some chance or fate, you were. Your back was towards him, busy on barista duty making coffees for the many customers waiting for their orders. He recognised your hair first; pulled back in two long braids down your back. You wore the cafe logo on your t-shirt and this pair of jeans that made your ass look incredible.

You had no idea what the mystery man from last night looked like but you spent the night filling in the blanks of what was hidden beneath his helmet. Your brain seemed to be fixated on the stranger with some magical pull like you knew him already. Your body definitely seemed to like him already, that’s for sure.

“Harry? Americano two sugars.” You called out, sliding the takeaway cup to the edge of the counter before moving on to the next coffee. When the figure approached the counter, you went into your automatic greeting, “have a nice da-”, but the words got caught in your throat when you looked up and locked eyes with the same stranger last night.

You knew it was him instantly. There was no rhyme or reason to explain it, but you knew and he was even more good-looking than you ever could’ve imagined. With piercing green eyes and a strong jaw, plump pink lips and tattoos running up both arms that had your core clenching. The most unexpected feature of all though, was his long luscious curls pulled back from his face and running just past his shoulders.

Harry smirked, visibly seeing the wide-eyed, freeze response your body had just at the sight of him. It was a reaction he got often. He was tall and handsome and the dark clothing he wore made him appear far more intimidating than the usual curly-haired white boy.

“Thank you, love.” He smirked, grabbing the takeaway cup before casually slipping a $100 bill into the tip jar. He was walking out of the cafe without another word, looking at you over his shoulder before he was walking down the street and out of your view.

That night it wasn’t just his face you were dreaming about.

You never expected to see the handsome stranger, who you now knew as Harry, again but as the weeks went by he came to visit the cafe time and time again. It was always the same order and the same ‘thank you, love’ that had your head spinning and then he was gone with no idea of when he’d return again.

Then one day he took things a step further and asked you when your break was. It was the longest you heard him speak and the more words that came out, the more you found yourself hypnotised by the way his mouth wrapped around the syllables. Your coworkers warned you that men like him were dangerous and not worth the excitement and pleasure they always offered.

Time and time again you had helped your friends through some shitty breakup or worse with one of the travellers that rolled through town and you always promised yourself you wouldn’t put yourself in a situation like that. It was clear from the very first night that he was trouble but as much as you wanted to keep your distance, you just couldn’t.

You had never felt so mesmerised by another person before. That initial burning attraction hot enough to take your breath away. In only one sit down with him, you were ready to risk it all. He was so gorgeous and charming and sweet. The epitome of that misunderstood bad boy.

Just like his frequent cafe visits, your lunch breaks soon became his. You two would sit and he’d always ask you about yourself. You did most of the talking and he did most of the listening, never giving much away of himself. He’d show up with bloody knuckles or a bruised eye but would mask the pain and simply shrug when you asked him if he was okay.

It was starting to feel like he knew everything about you and you knew nothing in return. You wanted to know everything about him. After weeks of these little interactions, he never tried to fuck you or pursue things with you or make you feel like you owed him for all the $100 tips he left. All he wanted to do was talk and if anything, that made you want him more.

Then one night… everything changed.

You were woken in the middle of the night by a crash in your living room. That would be scary for anyone, but it was even scarier when you were on the top floor and the only access points to your apartment were the front door and the fire escape out the window.

You went into immediate panic mode, snatching the steak knife you had tucked under your pillows between your top sheet and your fitted sheet in case this very thing happened. Living alone had its challenges and one of them was the intense fear someone would break in in the middle of the night. By now you could recognise the sounds of your apartment and building so not every little creak freaked you out, but anyone could recognise the sound of broken glass and your pot plant being knocked over.

Sticking the knife out in front of you, you tip-toed out of your bedroom and down the hallway to your living room where the noise came from. Your phone was clutched against your chest, the three-digit emergency number ready to be called in case it wasn’t your cat, Mouse, knocking things over. Mouse was a fragile little thing and sometimes got scared by the smallest things. Even setting a mug down on the bench too hard could have her jumping out of her skin.

You prayed it was only her being skittish.

When you made it to the end of your hallway, you pressed yourself against the wall and tipped your head out ever so slightly to look into your living room. A whole wave of emotions rushed over you at once at the sight. It wasn’t your cat, but rather a tall dark figure holding your purring pet.

It was a figure you recognised immediately, even with his strong back facing towards you.

“Harry? What the fuck?” You hissed, turning your phone off while turning the lights on at the same time.

“Hey, bunny.” Harry flashed a sly smile, turning to look at you. You noticed the dried blood on his lip and eyebrow instantly and the swollen ball forming on his cheek. Fucking hell.

That smile instantly dropped when his eyes ran over you, taking in the ratty loose t-shirt and tiny underwear you were wearing. The t-shirt had a worn-out collar making it slide down to expose your collarbone and one shoulder. Your nipples were pressing through the thin material, all pebbled and hard from the cold air now blowing in from the window Harry accidentally broke on his way in.

Getting dressed was the last thing on your mind before venturing out here and you suddenly regretted not putting pants on at least. To be fucking fair though, you never would’ve guessed Harry would break in through your window when A. you had a very suitable front door, B. he didn’t even have your number and C. you never told him where you lived.

“What the… how do you know where I live?” You asked a little shakily, crossing your arms to cover your chest while still keeping the knife on guard in front of you.

Harry set down Mouse and she immediately ran over to you, purring while sliding her body against your calf. He walked over to you slowly and the closer he got, the worse his injuries appeared. A split lip and split eyebrow and a deep purple hue starting to form around his socket. He looked awful.

“Are you going to stab me, bunny?” He drawled, almost mockingly. You stood your ground, trying not to show your shaking as your hand tightened around the handle of the knife. His eyes were dark and he allowed himself a final drag over your body, stepping so close to you that the tip of the knife pressed into his stomach while he towered over you. “Gonna cut me open? Give me another scar to add to my collection?”

Even though you knew you should be scared, you weren’t. He found your address and broke into your house and yet physically, you weren’t the slightest bit worried that he’d hurt you. You knew nothing about him, didn’t even know what illegal venture he did for work and yet you trusted him.

Because you trusted him, your shaking was for a very different reason. Having him in your apartment all bloody and bruised and still as handsome as ever had you completely worked up. The thought of… of doing just what he teased, of giving him a scar that reminded him of you forever… god, it was so fucked up how horny that made you.

You were obsessed over a man who hadn’t even kissed you, yet knew every single thing about you. It was ridiculous. That felt even more ridiculous than playing off this entire interaction as a somewhat normal experience.

“I’ve got a perfectly fine front door, y’know.” You whispered, looking over to the broken window. You kept your knife against his stomach, even testing the waters by pressing it harder ever so gently into the toned muscles beneath his shirt. “And you’re paying for that to be fixed, by the way.”

Harry laughed, wincing ever so slightly at the tinge of pain in his face. But still, he laughed. And it was golden. “I’ll pay for whatever you want,” He murmured, smirking while looking down at the knife. “I’m sure you’re very skilled with a blade, bunny, but will you put it aside for now and clean me up instead? Need a pretty girl to make me feel better.”

You looked between your knife and his eyes, reluctantly dropping your hand beside your hip. “Come on.”

Saying nothing else, you spun around and walked into your bathroom. Harry followed closely behind, looking around your apartment with curiosity before his eyes fell on you. You pulled your t-shirt down as far as it would go, but it still rode up as you walked and he found himself unable to look anywhere else.

“Sit.” You pointed to the closed toilet and set your knife down on the bench, crouching down to get the first aid kit from the cabinet below the sink.

Harry did as told and shrugged his leather jacket off, setting it down on the bench before sitting on the closed toilet lid. He watched you intently, saying nothing as you set up your tools to sanitise and clean his wounds.

After grabbing some gauze and betadine to clean the open wounds, you soaked the material and started to clean the small gash on his eyebrow. Harry kept completely still, barely feeling the pinch. Your touch was so soft, so gentle. He found it more relaxing than anything else. Once that wound was clean, you moved onto his mouth which Harry found a lot more sensitive.

“So how did this happen?” you asked softly, dabbing his lip with the small cloth. His eyes closed as he tensed, hands fisting on his knees to stop himself from getting too worked up. Pain didn’t affect Harry, at least not in a normal way. Every sting and bite at your hand was turning him on in an inappropriate way. You were his bunny, his girl. He couldn’t get hard around you when all you were trying to do was help him.

“Oh, y’know...” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on you but not giving anything away.

“I don’t, actually.” You responded.

“It doesn’t matter how it happened, just that I’ve got a pretty girl fixing me up.” He attempted to smooth it over with a soft smile and a loving tap on your chin. It was the most he ever touched you, a little tap on your chin or a graze of his fingers on your cheek. He never touched your knee or your hand or anywhere else. It was infuriating.

“It does! You show up here in the middle of the night and break in. I don’t even know how you found my address but I’m cleaning your cuts and you won’t even tell me how you got them. How is that fair!? I know nothing about you Harry.” Your voice bordered on a sigh and a yell, exhausted with him showing up out of nowhere and charming you before disappearing again. You weren’t sure what to make of it and he wasn’t giving you any ideas on what he actually wanted from you.

“It’s better that way, y/n.” He looked away from you, leaning back so your fingers weren’t holding his chin anymore to keep him in position. “You don’t want to get involved with me.”

“That’s not fair and you know it. You show up constantly and-and what? Have lunch with me? Get to know me? You can’t do that and not expect me to want to know something back.” You expressed frustratingly, shoving the first aid items into the small bin beside your cabinet.

“I want to keep you safe, y/n.” He stood from the toilet, sighing when you refused to look at him. “The less you know about me, the safer you’ll be.”

“So why do you even keep coming back if you don’t want me involved with you? It’s killing me!” You snapped, looking up at him accusatorily.

“Because I can’t stay away from you.” He whispered, sliding his hand over the side of your neck. Your breath hitched at the touch, your body automatically leaning into it as he rubbed his thumb over your jaw and towards your mouth. Oh. “I’m so fucking obsessed with you it’s unhealthy. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time, y/n.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Tears pricked at your eyes, “you’re so confusing Harry because you look at me like that and say things but you don’t even touch me. You haven’t kissed me or-or anything. Just tell me what you want from me so I know where to set my expectations.”

“You think I don’t want to kiss you?” He cocked his head, turning your bodies so your back was to the basin. His hand looped to the front of your neck and it was like every cell in your body suddenly put their focus onto him. You couldn’t breathe or think or move or anything. Not when his large ringed fingers were wrapped around your neck like he was carrying a trophy. A prize to claim. “You think I don’t want to touch you?”

Harry pressed his hips into you, eliciting a gasp when you felt his long, hard cock pressed against you. He used his hips to nudge you against the cabinet, pinning you there so you couldn’t go anywhere. “All I think about is kissing you. Kissing your lips and your neck and… everywhere. The things I want to do to you y/n are so unsavoury your pretty little head would explode.”

He always thought you were this pure… innocent angel. One of the rare people in the world with no ill intentions. You were polite and sweet, even after Harry significantly brought you out of your shell since he met you. You were studying to be a nurse for Christ’s sake, some of the purest of the pure.

He wanted to ruin you. He wanted to take that innocence away more than anything on this planet. It was his built-in fucked up default program. To want what he couldn’t have. To want to destroy everything around him.

But he couldn’t do that to you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, even if it hurt him in the process. Harry had no light in his life, no hope until he met you and he knew that the moment this became real he would destroy you. His life would destroy you or Harry would do something to fuck it all up and he’d hurt you.

He’d break your heart.

“It won’t.” You rushed out, “It won’t explode. I… I want it.” You could barely articulate yourself. Not when his whole body was pressed to yours. All you had been thinking of for months was having him completely dominate your body. Just to touch you and please you. Even if it was only one time before he disappeared from your life forever.

You needed it.

“I’ll ruin you.” He promised, leaning in closer so his nose bumped against yours. He breathed out a ragged breath, feeling so close to completely giving in to his desires. All of them. “I’ll destroy every good thing about you, y/n. You don’t want that.”

The scariest part of all… was that you did want it. You were becoming the exact person you didn’t want to be. A good girl sacrificing herself to save the soul of someone who might never be saved. But you believed Harry would be saved. You could fix him. Help him to get away from whatever life he lived that made him hurt so badly inside.

You wanted to save him.

“I do. I do want it.” You nodded desperately, grabbing his other hand to guide it towards your clothed mound. You pressed your hand over his, using your own fingers to press his against the silky wet patch on the crotch of your underwear. He swore under his breath, taking the initiative to stroke his fingers along the wet material. “Ruin me. Please.”

So he did.

He ruined you over and over again that night and for many nights after. It completely changed everything for you two. Like it was the last barrier stopping you two from being completely open with each other. You had always told him the things you told everyone else. Your likes and dislikes, the show you were watching, your workplace drama.

But your desires… your needs and wants. They were reserved for no one but yourself. Until he came along.

Harry told you he’d ruin you and he stuck to his word. The things you did together were dirty and depraved and left you with such a feral need for the man, you would’ve let him do quite literally anything to you. As would he, you. And you practically had. Every desire or curiosity was sated and he was willing to do anything to satisfy you.

Harry became as violently obsessed with you as you did him and even though it was a hell of a trip to see you, he did so as often as possible. He couldn’t help himself. Not when he had such a pretty girl waiting to please him and take care of his heart, body and soul. You filled the hole in his life in all aspects, which is what he feared would happen when he saw you that very first night.

Someone so magnetic would ruin him and he was enjoying every moment of it.

You had no idea he traveled from the main city just to see you until you two started sleeping together. He continued stopping by for a coffee or to disturb your lunch break but very quickly, your time spent together turned into an after hours activity. He’d come to get fixed up and then he’d ruin you. Or… his sole intention was to ruin you all along.

There were many sleepless nights because of him. Not that you minded. He opened up to you more and told you more about himself and what he did. When you started to learn small things, you realised that he was probably right in you being better off left in the dark. It was a lot more elaborate than you could’ve imagined and it made sense why he did so much to keep you protected.

Running an elaborate drug smuggling operation wasn’t exactly the safest job out there, nor did it give you much opportunity to switch careers. Somehow, though, you weren’t deterred by it. Maybe it was because you were already in love with him the second he ruined you for the first time.

His high job security didn’t stop you from fantasising about a different life with him. Harry leaving that life for you. The only part of the job Harry liked was the financial stability and the power. The control he had. But you felt like Harry was destined for so much more, that he could live a much happier, safer life. With you.

“Have you ever thought about running away?” You asked, playing with his long hair. It was unruly and sweaty and you were threading your fingers through the knots formed from the midnight hookup. You were still hot and sweaty too, but Harry quite liked the sticky feeling of your skin and the lingering scent of sex in the air.

“Running away? I couldn’t.” Harry breathed through a laugh like it was unfathomable. “You couldn’t either.” He looked up from his work, reaching for your hand to bring it to your mouth to kiss your knuckles. “You’ll be a nurse soon and you’ve always had your heart set on Mercy. You’ll get a job there and it’ll be everything you want.” He smiled softly, guiding your hand back to his hair so you’d play for it while he finished the artwork on your upper thigh.

The thin marker was steady in his hand and he only had one letter left before the piece was complete, not that four letters took a particularly long time to write. But he wanted it to be perfect, for the permanent marker to last as long as possible on your pretty skin. You’d never do it permanently, after all you were still his good girl and no good girl would be as rogue as to get her lover's handwriting tattooed on her thigh after only a few months. Or ever. Permanent marker and baby powder always did the trick to make a design last a while, though, and Harry hoped it would still be there the next time he snuck through your window.

“I want you, Harry.” You whispered, finding his concentration both adorable and so damn sexy you were getting all worked up again. If he looked a little to the left to where your bare cunt was so so close to his fingers, he’d probably be able to tell too. “And the good thing about being a nurse is I can do it anywhere. I can…” you swallowed your nerves, unsure what his reaction would be to your suggestion. “I can work anywhere and-”

“It wouldn’t work, y/n.” He interrupted curtly, leaning back to observe his work while putting the cap back onto his pen. Harry rarely used your name, he was too fond of his pet name for you. “You will always be mine. Always. But I think we both know that what we have is temporary.” Your heart broke at his words and you felt the pain fizzle through your body like a burning liquid. He looked up at you as he blew on the temporary tattoo. “When I inevitably break your heart, bunny, you’ll move on and find someone who can love you the way you deserve. I’ll never move on from you, but you will and you’ll be happier for it.”

“That’s not true.” You all but whimpered. Harry ignored your plea, tapping against your skin to test whether the marker was dry. “You always say that you’ll break my heart, Harry but that’s not true.” He looked up at you for a moment, trying to hide the heartbreak he felt at seeing how sad you were. Grabbing the little bottle of baby powder, he sprinkled it over the little word, massaging the surrounding area of your leg. “I… I love you and I know you love me. If you loved me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Bunny, I love you more than anything else on this planet.” He assured, shifting up onto his knees in all his naked glory. He spread his hands over your belly, rubbing his thumbs a little harder into your skin. “I would never do anything to hurt you but this life… it follows me wherever I go. There’ll be a time where I need to sacrifice my love and happiness to protect you. But you’ll always be mine. Until the day I die.” He smiled softly, looking back down to the pile of powder on your upper thigh. He ran his thumb over it, rubbing away from the white substance and leaving the matte four-letter word.

Mine.

“See?” He smirked, looking down at the ‘tattoo’, “I can’t promise you forever, bunny. But I can promise you that I’ll be yours at least until this fades. Who knows what could happen by then.”

You sat up, pressing your hands behind you on the bed for balance as you looked at his artwork. There was something so sexy about being branded like that, even if it was temporary. Your otherwise empty skin now looked complete with his mark there. In his handwriting.

What other sign could be more clear that you belonged to him than his handwriting on your thigh stating just that?

“I love it.” You whispered, tracing over the cursive letters. “Will you be back?” You settled on asking, pausing for a moment, “before the tattoo fades?”

That was one thing that troubled you about your relationship with Harry. The fact that you never knew when you’d see him again. You both openly professed your love and obsession for each other and yet you didn’t go on dates or text or call. Harry just showed up.

He told you it was to keep you safe. It was the very same reason he snuck through your window instead of knocking on your front door. There was less chance of anyone finding out about you. Whoever ‘anyone’ was.

Harry nodded. “I should be. I’ve got a job this weekend though so it might not be for a little longer than usual.” He plastered a soft smile on his face to calm you and reached out to cup your face. “Better make sure it’s still here when I get back. Okay, bunny? Unless you want me to mark it on your skin another way.” That smile tilted to a smirk, promising you foreplay that both of you knew would have you begging him for release.

This time you nodded, “I’ll be good f’you.”

Shit.

“Good girl, Princess.” Harry cooed, looking down briefly at his own cock, already hardening even after filling your mouth and pussy with his cum. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your naked body was so gorgeous and now marked with his handwriting. “now c’mere.”

You smiled, shifting up on your knees to join him halfway in a searing kiss. It was nearly 2 am already but you knew that you wouldn’t get any sleep at all.

The days that followed were restless. You kept looking at those four letters on your thigh and thinking of all the things you had and hadn’t done together. The many trysts you shared with hushed conversations and messy top lip kisses. How his hands felt on your body and his lips on your skin.

You had no idea how long it would be before he came to the cafe or broke into your apartment again. There was no word from him or rumour that he was passing through town. The shadows that liked to drift in and out became known the moment they visited more than once and Harry… well he had become a regular now.

The next time Harry snuck into your apartment, bordering on an entire week after he wrote ‘mine’ on your upper thigh, you were ready. You weren’t sure why you knew because sometimes you had no idea until you felt his presence in your bed. Mouse didn’t even meow or run in fear when he entered through the window anymore, making his entrance sometimes as silent as wind whistling through an empty street.

But tonight… you knew.

There was a shift in the room temperature and a lingering scent of tobacco in the air that had your core clenching just at the thought of him visiting you. Of him seeing the surprise you had for him. It was all in your head of course, a delusion brought on by obsession. Still… you knew.

And just like clockwork, you heard the sound of your window sliding upwards just past midnight. He thankfully hadn’t broken the glass since the first night, but for him to just slink in you had to keep the window unlocked. Before meeting him you obsessively checked every lock on every window and your front door every night, fearing that one of the shadows coming through town would try and hurt you.

You’d think that getting involved with someone like Harry would make that fear worse and yet… it didn’t. Somehow you felt safer. Harry once made a passing comment about keeping an eye on you, that he always knew if you were alright. He didn’t have to elaborate for you know that meant he had hacked into security cameras or had someone he trusted watching your apartment at all times.

6-months-ago-you would’ve been creeped the fuck out. Scared for your life that you’d allow one of the shadows to get you so hooked on him, you’d let him have a security guard of sorts around you 24/7, or even just the fact you let him so casually break into your apartment. It made total sense to you somehow because with all the theatrics and abnormal parts of your relationship came the love and happiness you got when you saw him.

Even though it was most likely your lover opening your window, you still fished for the knife under your pillow, now replaced with something pink and shiny and far more deadly. Harry decided that if you were going to protect yourself, you needed something more dangerous than a serrated kitchen knife. You treasured that pocket knife and you and Harry have had a lot of fun playing with it.

“Harry?” You whispered, creeping down your hallway.

“It’s just me, bunny.” His voice echoed, low and husky.

You smiled, rushing out to find him pushing your window back down and locking the latch. His hair was pulled back into a bun, sitting messily at the back of his head and he was wearing his classic leather jacket and dark jeans. God, you had missed him.

“You really need to start locking your window, y/n.” Harry drawled, turning around to face you. “A madman might try to break in and hurt you.”

You giggled, throwing your pocket knife on your rug carelessly to pounce on him. Literally. He smiled and caught you easily, letting you wrap your legs around his hips while your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your mouths joined almost instantly, lips brushing against lips in a heated exchange. You threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged until his bun came loose and his hair fell to his shoulders. He groaned at the feeling and ran his tongue against the seam of your lips, nibbling down on your bottom lip.

“I missed you, madman.” You whispered once your lips broke, shifting in his arms. His hands supported your bum, squeezing while he devoured your mouth once more. His body was sore from his weekend job, but he’d never let that get in the way of having his girl in his arms.

“I missed you too, bunny. So much… I couldn’t breathe without you.” He murmured, setting you down with a little wince. You noticed it immediately and ran your hands over his face, angling his head around to look for any injuries. He wasn’t bruised on his face for once, but you knew he was hurting somewhere.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?” The questions came out spitfire, making Harry smile down at you and set his hands on your hips. Your eyes found a dried substance at his collar and you recognised what it was immediately. “Is that blood?”

“Not mine.” He assured, “I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry.”

You ignored his assurance and started running your hands over his chest, looking for any sign of pain or visible jerk out of tenderness. When your fingers grazed his lower abdomen, he couldn’t hide the clench of his jaw. You glared up at him, pressing harder against the spot so he’d feel a little payback for lying to you.

Harry groaned and dug his fingers into your hips, ensuring it was hard and painful enough to leave a bruise. You didn’t mind though, in fact, you quite liked it.

“Jesus Harry, you got shot!?” Your eyes widened when you tugged up his t-shirt to find a bloody gauze. You knew what it was immediately. You had seen your fair share of bullet wounds in your work placements at the hospital as well as the dodgy ways they tried to mend them themselves. “When did this happen?” You decided to peel off the gauze to see the wound for yourself, not trusting the temporary mend he had done. The wound had been stitched up quite well actually, but it was inflamed and a few stitches had broken. It needed to be mended.

“Did it go all the way through? Is the bullet still in here? Why didn’t you tell m-”

Harry interrupted your second spitfire of the evening by pressing his lips to yours. It was quick to shut you up, especially when he slid his tongue against the seam of your mouth and dominated his way in. His tongue slid against yours, tobacco and whiskey heavy in the kiss.

You whimpered against his mouth, almost forgetting about the bullet wound until you felt its blood soak your fingertips. Pulling back, Harry tried to chase your mouth, needing you violently. Insatiably. He had missed your soft skin and your delicious mouth and especially missed your sweet sweet pussy. One he had a severe craving for. He could almost taste it on his tongue.

“Bathroom. Now. Your stitches are busted.” You pushed your finger to his chest and he easily backed away. He was completely whipped by you, willing to do anything you told him.

“Alright, bunny. You’re the boss.” He murmured, shrugging his jacket off to dump it on the couch before following you to the bathroom. You both followed the same routine as always. He sat on the closed toilet seat and you readied your supplies to treat his wounds.

“Top off.” You instructed, using a lighter to sanitise the end of the needle you threaded already.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled softly, stifling a groan as he grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt off his head. “You’re feisty when you’re mad.”

“You shouldn’t have lied to me.” You shot back, sanitising the scissors next with your betadine.

“It’s just a bullet wound, bunny.” He tried to soothe, watching you approach him and rub the wound with betadine in preparation to cut his original stitches and do new ones. “Didn’t even go straight through me.”

“So the bullet’s still in there? Jesus, Harry. Why didn’t you go to the hospital? I’m not equipped to remove a fucking bullet in my bathroom.” You snapped.

“It’s not in there, y/n. One of my boys removed it, okay?” He chuckled softly, both loving and hating how worried you were. He reached up to cup your face, “I’m fine. The only thing wrong with me is a busted stitch.”

You ignored him, keeping your glare strong on your face. His hands dropped to his knees and he remained completely still while you worked on the wound. He hated that permanent crease on your brow and all he wanted to do was make it go away.

“What’s wrong?” He nudged, poking at your leg when you stayed completely silent. You were in your usual oversized t-shirt, underwear combination, but this particular t-shirt was long enough to cover your bum and the tops of your thighs. “C’mon bunny, talk to me.”

“You’re distracting me.”

“And you’re ignoring me. I don’t like when you’re cross with me.”

“Well I don’t like being left in the dark for an entire week and when you show up you’ve been shot.” You snapped, pulling the needle tighter than you’d usually do to make a knot, just so it hurt a little more. He clenched his jaw, but he was more concerned about you than the temporary pain of his stitches. “What if you died Harry? Then what? I would’ve…” you looked away to grab the scissors, trying to blink away the tears. When you returned, his gaze was soft. “I would’ve never known. You would’ve left me and I… I’d never know.”

You couldn’t even focus on his wound with how hard your hands were shaking. You managed to cut the excess thread, but the moment it was done Harry pulled the scissors and needle out of your hand and brought your shaking ones to his.

“Y/n, I’d never do that to you. Never.” Harry scanned your face, reaching up to cup you to get you to look at him. “I didn’t mean to scare you, bunny.” He wrapped his hand around the nape of your neck, gently pulling you down to rest your forehead against his. “I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” You agreed, unable to stop a few tears streaming down your cheeks. “You’re an asshole.”

“I am.” He nodded, trying to kiss you until you turned your head away from him. “I fucked up. I’ll never, ever do that again. Never.” He promised, tipping his forehead to your cheek while threading your fingers to press your hand against his racing heart. “My heart belongs to you forever.”

“I’m yours, Harry.” You promised, pulling back to wipe your tears away and get the bandage to cover his wound. He sighed and grabbed your waist instead, pulling you closer between his legs so you wouldn’t go too far. “But I need… I need something. I can’t keep waiting for you to show up with nothing in between. I can barely sleep when you’re not here.”

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll get a burner. Untraceable. Just for you and me.” He suggested, “You’ll never go a day without hearing from me again.” It was a promise. An oath. He never wanted to be the cause of your tears again, even if he knew he would be. It was why he didn’t want to keep your hopes up about a future, even if he wanted it more than anything in the entire world.

“You promise?” You asked, running hands over the placed bandage to seal it in place. He nodded, looking up at you with a soft smile. You hated how easy it was to forgive him. But you loved when he looked at you like that. Like you were his entire world.

“I promise. Cross my heart.” He murmured, running his hands over your waist and hips, “now will you stop being mad at me and give me a kiss?”

Harry stood up, overpowering you with his height. Using one hand on your waist, he nudged you against the basin and used the other hand to cup the side of your neck. His gaze was dark, eyes blazing with a need to please and be pleased. He was hungry for you, just like he was since the moment he got on his bike to drive down to see you.

“Please, bunny. Let me make it up to you.”

All you could do was nod.

Harry was easy to succumb to your influence, easy to follow instructions and do whatever you wanted. But he was just as easy to overpower you, to dominate you. To get you reduced to nothing but a whimper and a nod of your head.

He was quick to duck in and clasp your lips together. It started slow and steady, a languid dance of your mouths that turned into something far more passionate. It always did. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair to move your face in the direction he wanted while he nibbled on your bottom lip and slid his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

You let him in easily, loving the slow, deliberate slide of his tongue against yours. That familiar tobacco mint flavour was heavy in the kiss, a mix of the cigarette he no doubt had before climbing up the fire escape and the mint gum he liked to chew on to try and curb the habit. It never did work, but you liked the taste of him trying to stop the nasty addiction.

You pulled him closer by his hips, digging your fingers into the slight pudge just above his belt. It was one of your favourite parts of him to kiss, to bite. You had dug your teeth in it so many times Harry was tempted to get a tattoo of your bite so he could remember the feeling of your teeth sinking into him forever.

“Wanna taste you, bunny.” Harry groaned, tucking his hand under your shirt to fiddle with the band of your lace underwear. Your hips bucked up to meet the touch, desperate to get him doing more than just play with your underwear. “Missed the sweet taste of you on my tongue.” He kissed you softly, dragging your bottom lip back between his teeth until he released it with a pop. “Always dream of it when I’m away.”

“I guess what’s one way to apologise.” You breathed, sighing when he pinched your thigh. He tucked his hands under your ass, hoisting you up so you’d wrap your legs around his hips.

“Mhmm. I’d happily die apologising to you. Over and over.” He had this smirk playing on his lips, but you didn’t particularly find it funny.

“Don’t talk about dying.” You reprimanded softly, playing with his hair while he carried you to your bedroom.

“Not even if it’s death by your sweet pussy?” He grinned, lowering you onto the bed. You shuffled upwards, rolling your eyes as he knelt on the bed to hover over you.

“For someone who gets shot for a living, you have the humour of a 13-year-old boy.”

“And you don’t like that?” Harry raised his brow, grinning while leaning in to kiss you. You hummed into the kiss, tugging on his hair until his groan rumbled into your mouth. He pressed his weight against you, ensuring you felt every inch of his arousal for you.

He could feel yours right back. How wet you were, how warm your pussy was pressed right against his jeans. You had properly soaked through your lacy underwear and Harry could feel his jeans slowly dampen from the way he was grinding his hips against you. It was heaven. He could hardly wait to get his mouth on your sweet little cunt, especially when you were already so worked up for him.

“Your humour is only funny…” you paused to gasp, head tilting back so Harry could nip down along your neck. “…sometimes.”

“And you’re sexy all the time.” He murmured, simultaneously pushing your oversized t-shirt up while kissing downwards. He ran his hands over every inch of exposed skin, pushing the shirt above your breasts so he could clasp his lips around one of your nipples.

You took the shirt off immediately, whimpering and bucking your hips to meet his while you scratched at his back. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud, tugging and sucking hard enough to make your head spin. While he assaulted your nipples, his hands ran over your belly and hips down to your thighs spread wide underneath him. It was only when his fingers crawled to your very inner thigh ready to tease you through your underwear that he felt the thin film of plastic.

“What’s this?” His movements stopped immediately as he felt over the thin plastic film. You whimpered at the sensitivity, feeling particularly sore after your adventure yesterday.

“I did something and you can’t be mad…” You breathed, watching him sit back on his haunches.

His eyes widened when he got a better look, resting his hand on your thigh while he ran his thumb over the four little letters now permanently marked on your skin. Harry was no stranger to tattoos, he was practically covered in them. But the last thing he ever expected was for you to make your temporary tattoo last longer by making it permanent.

His handwriting. His claim. Harry permanently etched on your body forever.

“Bunny…” Harry murmured, looking between you and the tattoo. “What did you do?”

“You said you couldn’t promise me forever but you could give me until the tattoo fades…” His eyes focused on you and you felt yourself already becoming pliant just with the dark look on his face. “...now it’ll never fade.”

He said nothing for a moment and just stayed staring at your tattoo. His eyes drifted upwards ever so slightly to where your pretty lace underwear was pressed snugly to your pussy. Then he looked further upwards to your soft belly and your perky tits and finally… to your face. Your pretty eyes and your lips, the lips he loved to kiss more than anything.

Harry was back over you in an instant, cupping your jaw while kissing you like he was ravenous for it. You whimpered into it, tugging on his hair until your lips parted in a gasp.

“Can’t believe you did that, bunny. Got a fucking tattoo so I’d be stuck to you forever.” He murmured, smushing his mouth to yours again. “That was the plan, wasn’t it? Force my hand so I’d be yours forever.” He started to kiss back down your body again, making sure his tongue pressed against your skin with every touch.

“I love you. I want… I want to be yours forever.” You whimpered, watching him settle between your spread legs with an evil smirk on his face.

“And you thought a tattoo was the right choice? Hm? You thought letting some other man permanently alter your body was the way to go?” He dipped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, tearing the lacy material in two. He was completely rough with it, making sure it ached as he pulled torn pieces off your body.

“It wasn’t a man. She… shit.” You couldn’t even find the words, not when he spread you wide and stared at you like you were some fine dessert.

“You think that makes it better, bunny? You think who did the tattoo makes a difference?” He raised his brow, running both his thumbs up your outer labia to tease you.

“I told you not to be mad.” You whined, pressing your hands to your face.

“I’m not mad. I think this is quite possibly the hottest… most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You peeked through your parted fingers, looking down at where he was looking up at you, spreading his hands to kiss at the thin layer of plastic. “So fucking sexy.” Harry murmured, looking down at it in awe.

“So why do you sound mad?” You whispered, looking down at him.

“I’m not mad you got a tattoo, I’m mad I wasn’t there. Didn’t I always say I wanted to be there for your first one?”

“Well yes but-“

“And didn’t you promise me that I would be?”

“Yes…” you swallowed thickly. He was speaking at you in such a condescending way. Like you were a child being taught a basic lesson for the first time. It was belittling.

It turned you on in such a feral way. He could even mansplain anything and you’d be happy to play into it. As long as he sounded like that and wound up between your thighs afterwards he could speak to you however he liked.

“So you went against your word, hm?” He smirked as your thighs trembled on either side of his shoulders, your body growing more and more sensitive and needy as he started tracing over your pussy.

“I guess so.”

“Do I go against my word? Have I ever broken a promise before?”

“Yes.” You tried to defend, knowing very well he always stuck to his word. Harry had never broken a promise to you. Not when he told you he’d be back in three days or when he didn’t know but promised he’d return to you safely. He always kept his word.

To be fair though, it was hard to stay clear-minded when he was caressing your pussy like it was something cute to pet. It wasn’t. And with every stroke of his fingers, every slide through your crease to spread your arousal up to your clit before coming straight back down like he didn’t even know what a clit was, your mind was spiralling. He was killing you.

“Oh really?” He nudged a finger to your entrance, pressing just hard enough to slip the very top inside of you. You always were the most sensitive at your g-spot then right here, at the very beginning where all your nerves were alive and your pussy was clenching around nothing because you needed something inside. Specifically Harry’s cock. “Tell me. When?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your clit and finally slid his finger inside of you, eliciting the prettiest whine.

“Um… Uhh…” You couldn’t speak or think with his tongue slowly sliding over your clit now. He traced languid circles and waves, taking complete control and doing it all at his own pace. Harry was tasting you for his own pleasure more than he was yours, even if he did love the way you came for him.

“Exactly.” He smirked, “So let me take my time with you. I’m owed that, aren’t I?”

“I thought you were meant to be apologising to me? This feels like an unfair system. A bullet wound is more serious than a tattoo.” You complained, sliding your hands into his hair to try and drag him closer to you.

After being away from him for so long, one of the longest times apart since you started dating-or whatever you two were, all you wanted was to feel him. You wanted his pleasure and the weight of his body on top of you. Teasing wasn’t fun when you were apart more than you were together.

You prayed that would change after the gesture you made. The permanent commitment to him.

“Which one is permanent?” He grinned lazily up at you.

“You could’ve died.” You argued.

“But I didn’t. Now will you stop complaining otherwise I’m more than happy to stop. It’s been a big day I could easily go to sl-”

“No!” You jumped a little too quickly, making him laugh and press spongey kisses against your inner thighs. “No… no, please. I’ll take whatever you want. I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, pressing his fingers into your fresh tattoo. You gasped, clutching his hair tighter in your hands. “That’s what I like to hear, pretty girl. Besides, I think letting me take my sweet time tasting you is the best punishment out there. Don’t you think?”

Harry pressed a few chaste kisses along your thighs, feeling just how tense you were. You were clenching around his finger and holding onto his hair tight so he wouldn’t move away. But he couldn’t have you so tense… he needed you to relax.

“Calling it a punishment scares me…” you whimpered, feeling his tongue slide over your clit in a sloppy figure-eight pattern.

“mh… just relax, bunny. Stop thinking and let me take care of you… you’re my girl, aren’t you? My sweet, delicious girl. My girl?” He ran his thumb over your tattoo, speaking right against your clit like he was talking to your pussy instead of you.

“Mhmm.”

“Then relax… you deserve to be spoiled after all you do for me…” Harry looked up at you, smiling as you forced your body to melt into the bed.

Your eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back when his mouth returned to your clit. He gently added another finger inside of you, curling them both into your g-spot in a steady stroke. They felt so deep inside of you, nowhere near as full of his cock but still so so good.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers were driving you crazy, but he did them in such a relaxed, languid way that you knew it would take you ages to cum, if he even let you.

“See? ‘S nice isn’t it?… you always take care of me, bunny. Always clean my wounds and take good care of m’cock… m’heart too…. Always make me feel so happy.”

“You make me happy too… scare me a lot too…” You sighed, fisting his hair as he grazed his teeth over your clit.

“I don’t mean to,” Harry murmured against you, kissing against your clit in an infuriatingly light touch. “Only want to make you feel good… feel safe…”

“You do… you do… just-fuck, please… More… Harder.”

He smirked at your begging, the whiny tone in your voice going straight to his cock. Barely a couple minutes into it and you were already getting desperate. Already tugging at his hair and starting to wiggle.

He loved you like this because he had the ultimate control over whether or not he gave you what you wanted. At this point, it could go either way.

“Not yet sweetheart, ‘m having too much fun just like this…”

Your back arched when he pressed his fingertips into your tattoo, purposefully digging into the soft skin. It was a small tattoo, tiny in comparison to half of Harry’s work but you had a relatively low pain tolerance and your very inner thigh was quite sensitive. It was torturous paired with the way his tongue softly stroked against your clit.

“Please, Harry…” You begged once more, using your hands in his hair to try and drag him closer to you. You were writhing beneath him, desperate for something more than just light teasing shapes. You could barely handle it anymore.

“Ah.” Harry tutted, slipping from your clit with a little pop of his lips. He grinned up at you, mouth and chin all soaked and dripping before pulling your hands from his hair to push them down on the bed beside you. It was possibly one of the most erotic things you had ever seen. “Y’know I like my hair pulled, bunny but if you keep pushing it, I’ll make sure you don’t cum at all. Let me enjoy you.”

“Okay…” You nodded quickly, hoping he wouldn’t stop altogether. “m’sorry. I’ll be good.”

“Good.”

Harry released your hands before grabbing a hair tie from his wrist and putting his hair up in a bun. God when he did that… it did unspeakable things to you. You watched him obsessively, frothing over the way his arms and chest stretched and flexed with every small movement. Up behind his head then back down to the bed when he settled between your thighs while staring at you with this triumphant fuckboy smile.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that. So so pretty and all mine.” He murmured, tracing his finger through your crease while looking straight at your pussy with complete awe. Harry was fucking obsessed with you.

“Harry…”

“I know,” he sympathised, voice almost mocking at your flushed cheeks. He loved when you got nervous. “You’re so pretty when you blush, y/n.” He blew gently over your clit, sliding his two fingers back into you.

Closing his mouth around your clit, he started pleasuring you again. He moved his tongue against you harder and curled his fingers into you with far more purpose than before. And finally, finally you were starting to feel that relief. It was exactly what you needed to start to feel that twist in your stomach and shake in your thighs… the rush before that euphoric release. Your toes were starting to curl and your fingers tightened into his hair, tugging so hard he had to dig his fingertips into your tattoo to ground himself from how desperate he was getting from his hair being played with.

“Oh god… I’m… ‘mgonna…”

And then the rush stopped, that spiraling wave freezing right before it tumbled over the cliff. Harry removed his mouth and halted his fingers, kissing over your thighs instead with an evil grin you could feel against your skin.

“Harry” you protested, gasping while looking down at him. Your legs attempted to clam around his head and you tried to tug his mouth back to you but he easily overpowered you and used his arms to pin your thighs wide against the bed.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate. Might be my second favourite look on you.” He bit down on your thigh, chuckling against your skin.

“What’s the… what’s your favourite?” Your breathing felt laboured, skin already feeling a little sticky from being teased for so long.

“When you orgasm… sometimes it’s when I’ve got you so far gone you’re fucking sobbing for me. Only like your tears when they’re because of m’cock.”

He was evil.

Was it fucked up that knowing he liked to make you cry turned you on?

“You’re so mean… you know I-oh” your words got caught in his throat, eyes fluttering closed again when he started tracing his tongue over your clit again.

Harry started to tease you again, going back to that languid, gentle touching. He was enjoying every second of it too, moaning into you, using his spare hand to grab on your belly and your breasts. He pinched at your nipples before pressing against your tattoo, all to rile you up and build your orgasm again so damn slowly.

Harry was nearly about to burst. You were so wet and so fucking sweet and though he loved having his face between your thighs for hours on end, it turned him on beyond anything else on the fucking planet. He had to keep focusing his mind elsewhere, on anything but the way your cream was coating his fingers and dripping down his palm, or how you were so fucking wet just one slide of his tongue through your crease echoed around the entire room.

But then you got a little too sensitive, a little too desperate and tugged his hair so hard it slipped from the bun he did earlier. He was just as happy to punish you than he was to rest his face between your thighs.

The pleasure stopped once more and you were flipped so fast onto your belly, you didn’t have an opportunity to try and wiggle away. He gathered your hands quickly in one of his so you couldn’t move and ignored your whine of his name.

“I warned you once, y/n, and you didn’t want to listen…”

“Harry ‘m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise.” You protested, at Harry’s complete mercy. He pinned you to the bed with one hand, keeping your hands pressed to your lower back while he pulled his belt out of his belt loops. You wiggled beneath him, trying to get out of his tight grip only to be suddenly swatted with his belt over your ass.

You gasped at the sting, feeling the spot on your skin grow a heartbeat of its own. It was a warm spiced feeling, oozing down to your aching clit that Harry had teased all night.

“You did this to yourself, bunny. I wanted to be nice and I wanted to enjoy your sweet little pussy but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Could you?” Harry looped the belt around your hands then tightened it with the buckle so it was snug around your wrists. He tugged at it just to be sure you couldn’t slip out before hovering over you to kiss you gently on your shoulder.

“Okay?” He asked, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.” He whispered the praise against your shoulder, kissing the middle of your back on his way back to kneel behind you.

Harry was quick to pull your ass up off the bed until your face was pressed to the duvet, giving him the perfect access to all your pretty holes. You were practically dripping. Already edged once with no relief and now he could just taste you and bury his face without having your hands in the way. His perfect girl.

“See…” He murmured, tracing his hands over your ass. “Isn’t this better? Now I can enjoy you in peace.”

You responded with a noise of indignation, squeezing your fists when he chuckled and spanked your ass in that same spot he whacked his belt. Your skin was pulled taught with the way your chest was pressed to the bed, making the sting heavier than usual.

Even though you whimpered and your whole body jerked at the feeling of his palm on your ass, Harry knew you enjoyed it. Just like you enjoyed being tied up.

The only reason you protested having his belt around your hands was because you hated it like this. Behind your back or pinned to your sides or thighs. You didn’t like not being able to feel him, especially when you couldn’t see him either. With Harry always gone you just wanted to touch him as much as humanly possible when he was around him.

You always had a hand on him. In his hair or scratching his back or in his pocket or intertwined with his fingers. You just needed that touch. Craved it. And now it had been taken away.

“God, you taste so fucking good, bunny.” Harry groaned, spanking your ass roughly. He spread your cheeks wide, pulling back to spit right on your tight rim of muscles before he was sucking over your clit again. “Like a fucking dream.”

He groaned against you, nuzzling his nose right against your entrance to press just hard enough to dip into you. The way he used his entire face to pleasure you was completely feral. He’d be able to smell you for days and taste your sweet sweet arousal for hours to come. That’s exactly how he liked it.

He was completely wrapped around your clit, sucking in that perfect rhythmic pressure he knew you liked. The same pressure that had you tumbling towards an orgasm within two minutes flat. Now he seemed to be doing the opposite of his torturous teasing. He was trying to make you cum and he was doing it in the messiest, most feral way possible.

That was somehow more evil because you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t move your hands or grab his hair, not even hold his hand until he reached for you. With the tight grip on your hips, you were pinned in his grip. You didn’t mind though, because he was finally… finally giving you that delicious pleasure.

You were hopeful, your entire body tense and trembling. Your mouth was gaped against the bedding, soft moans muffled into the material. Until your entire world crashed and burned when it all stopped. Again.

“No. Harry...”

“Shh, it’s okay, bunny.” Harry pressed his mouth over your ass, sliding his fingers out of you to run through your crease to your clit. “Still green?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Then let’s keep going, shall we?”

You lost count at how many times he edged you. After five it all turned into a blur; a teary, stinging blurr where your mind was completely in the clouds and your body felt like it was melting into a puddle. You were completely heavy in the bed, legs sore and trembling and your arms aching after being behind your back for so long.

Every touch was torture, every flick of his tongue or suck over your clit sent your mind into orbit. You needed to come so fucking badly but there was nothing you could do to get him to let you finish. He was happy to just taste you and lick you until you were reduced to a pile of tears and sore muscles on the bed.

“Please Harry… please I need it so bad… need y’cock so so badly…”

It wasn’t the first time you begged for it, but it was certainly the first time you cried for it. You were crying softly against the bedding, wiggling and clenching around his fingers. Your nails were digging into your palms, trying to counteract the pressure your entire lower body was facing.

“Yeah? Wanna give it to you, bunny. So fucking bad…” Harry’s cock had been painfully sore since your fourth edge, so fucking hard he got rid of all his clothes just for some relief. His jeans were pressing so tight against his cock, he could barely handle it.

Harry was a sadistic fuck, though and he liked the pain. He liked being sore and he liked to edge himself so when he finally got inside you and got that ultimate pleasure, the entire experience was better. He liked it when he made you come multiple times, but there was something romantic about edging you until you cried then letting you finally come when he was deep inside you and about to orgasm himself.

Simultaneous orgasms were a rarity, but Harry liked the challenge. Often it was him timing his with yours anyway. You were terrible at holding your orgasm, practically incapable of it. That’s why edging you was so fun… Harry had complete control over it. He knew the signs of your body reaching that point without you even verbalising it and knew the exact moment to pull away before you tipped over the edge.

And even when you cried and it was sore, your colour remained green the entire time.

“Got me so hard f’you… just need to make sure you really want it, huh?” Harry bared his teeth against your ass cheek, biting down on one of the spots his various spontaneous spanks had made their mark. Your ass was beat red at this point, covered in teeth marks and hand prints from Harry getting too damn excited. He knew it would be sore for a couple of days, but that’s what he wanted.

He wanted his memory on your skin… and now after your tattoo, it would be. Forever.

The thought of that was exhilarating and one of the most terrifying things in Harry’s world.

“I do… I need it so bad, Harry. Feel so empty without you… so sore…” Your words all joined together, a slur of neediness and sniffled tears.

“Oh, I bet, bunny…” He cooed, sliding his fingers out of you before sucking them clean. He then moved up on his knees behind you to gently undo the belt from your wrists. “Bet you’re so sensitive n’sore, aren’t you?” He threw the belt to the side, massaging your wrists in his hand to soothe the reddened skin.

You just nodded against the bedding, curling your fingers back to hold his hands. He sighed at the sight, leaning down to quickly kiss your fingers before rolling you on your back.

“Aw, baby. Look at you all teary-eyed…” Harry cupped your cheek, letting your legs fall wide on the bed as he wiped the tears from under your eye. With his other hand, he grabbed his cock and guided it to your pussy, sliding the head through your folds. His teeth gritted at the sensitivity on his desperate cock and he was trying so hard to not lose all strength in his body just at that one little touch. He was the one desperate now.

“Y’look so pretty like this… fucking gorgeous you are…”

“Harry…” You sighed, holding onto his wrist with one hand while grabbing his hip with the other. Just the feeling of his cock through your folds was heavenly, a sign that you’d finally get to come.

“I love the way you say my name, pretty girl. Like a fucking angel… shit”

His hand slid down your face to your neck, looping around it in a loose hold while he pressed his tip to your entrance and slowly eased his way in. Your pussy was so sensitive from all his teasing and he could tell too. Your cry was loud and your nails dug deep into his hip. He was addicted to the feeling.

“Shit… oh god…” You whined out, head thrown back against the bedding. Your mouth was wide in a pant, chest heaving just at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you. His cock was always an adjustment… thick and long and fuck, every time you thought of it your mind went a little dizzy.

It ached to have him inside you without being edged so much and now it was like a hot fire in your womb. Your clit was aching, your belly was aching, and everything was so tightly strung all you wanted was just to be fucked. Even if you were more sensitive than ever, you just needed to be fucked hard into the bed.

No teasing. Nothing. You just wanted him to fuck you until you came undone around him.

“Fuck me… please, Harry just fuck me…” your words came in a rushed, desperate plea; your hips jutting to try and get him to move.

“Fuck, bunny. Got a filthy fucking mouth, don’t you…” Harry cursed, tightening his grip around your neck. “I’ll fuck you, alright. I’ll give you exactly what you want…”

He started rocking his hips against you, wasting no time to get to a steady, bruising pace. It was hips snapping against hips, your thighs wide on the bed while he used his hand around your neck for balance. His balls slapped against your ass and his noises of pleasure were so goddamn erotic you knew you’d never forget the sound of them.

It was euphoric.

“God baby, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me. And you’re all mine, aren’t you? All fucking mine…” Harry grunted, gritting his teeth to try and stop himself from finishing too fast. He was practically going to burst the moment his cock slid inside you. “And this…” He pressed his palm to your thigh, heavily running his thumb over your tattoo… “is so sexy… so fucking sexy…”

Neither of you seemed to care about the fact he had fresh stitches and a fresh bullet wound because the way he was fucking you was too good to care about something that could be so easily fixed. That pain in his abdomen did very little to stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved, even if that meant he’d have to sit through another angry stitching done by you.

Hopefully, this time you weren’t as angry or as rough with him… though he wouldn’t have minded if it meant he’d have you again like this.

You couldn’t even respond to him because it felt like your mouth had disconnected from your brain. Your body was so overstimulated that your mind could barely function. But you could drag him down with two hands on his jaw and kiss him. It was messy and uncoordinated but that didn’t even matter. All that mattered was that his body was on yours and you felt the closeness you had craved since the moment he tied your wrists behind your back.

“I love you… I love you so much…” You murmured, already feeling your orgasm approach again. It hardly took any time, not when he was fucking you so good and so hard. He felt deeper than ever before, so deep you could feel that deep pit in your stomach start to churn. It was a feeling that didn’t happen very often, but one both you and Harry reaped the benefits of.

“I love you so much, angel. My love forever and always.” Harry groaned into your mouth, gathering your hands in his and intertwining your fingers together. He pushed on either side of your head, pressing them into the bedding as he started to kiss along your jaw and neck to get a bit of air.

The dirty talk kept spilling out of his mouth, some coherent and others just desperate strung together sentences that made your head spiral and your pussy clench around his cock. He had a way with words, both in and out of the bedroom and it never failed to knock you to the fucking floor.

That deep churning in your pit only grew and started to press right against your clit. You could feel the pressure building and building until it felt like you were going to burst. Your clit was aching; a pinching white-hot pleasure beating from it like it had its own heartbeat.

“Oh… shit… shit. Harry… ‘m gonna… ‘m gonna squirt” The words barely got out, all thrown together in a loud cry right in his ear before you felt the damn burst from inside of you.

It rolled over you in a crash. An initial euphoric crash of pleasure hitting your body from all angles. Waves and waves of pure ecstasy made your thighs tremble and your toes curl. Your whole body shook as the first spray of your arousal hit Harry’s lower belly and with every squirt after, another jolt of electricity.

“Shit baby. Good fucking girl. Fucking hell…” Harry cursed, grinding his hips against you to try and draw as much of your orgasm through. He felt it coat his cock and the hairs at his base, dripping down to his balls until it started to dampen the bedding beneath you. “Jesus, bunny. ‘M gonna cum… Can I?...”

“Want it… want it inside, please…” you whimpered, squeezing his hands tight as the pleasure started to die down to a low beat in your clit.

Harry’s mouth smushed against yours as he fucked himself once more inside of you, groaning against you as his body trembled above you. You could feel the hot bliss of his come filling you to the brim and the sudden weight of him on top of you when he let himself relax against your body.

“Shit, bunny…” He sighed, dropping his forehead to the crook of your neck.

You were both exhausted. Your skin was damp and sticky and the bed below you felt exactly the same. It was a mess. You were a mess and yet you were the happiest you could’ve been. Sore muscles and a fire beating on your ass and fresh tattoo meant nothing compared to the fulfilment you had just being with Harry.

“Are you okay?” He whispered after a moment of silence, resting his chin on your chest to look at you. He needed to collect himself before he checked on you so he was physically able to take care of you and provide whatever you needed. He definitely needed to have a shower or bath with you and rub some cream on your wrists and bum.

“I’m good,” You whispered back, smiling softly at him. “A little sore but so good… are you okay?”

“I’m perfect,” he smiled and softly kissed your sweaty skin, “can I pull out now?”

With a small nod, he gently pulled himself out of you and then started your normal routine. He went to get some water and a damp towel to clean you both up and then returned to clean you while you guzzled the entire thing. Some nights you two jumped in the shower straight away, but that was only if you weren’t going to have another round or were prepared to change the sheets at the same time.

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. After you went to the bathroom quickly you returned and you both curled into each other’s arms to have your usual pillow talk. It was your favourite part of sleeping together because it was often when the truth came out or you found out more things about him. You loved that.

“I still can’t believe you did this…” Harry murmured, looking down at the tattoo. He traced his fingers over it, looking at it obsessively.

“Was it too much? Be honest…”

“What?” Harry was a little taken aback and looked up at you with a furrowed expression, “Never. Fucking unexpected but I love it,” he reached up to grab your cheek and you immediately nuzzled into it, holding your hand over his, “I love you, y/n. I don’t say it often enough but I do. And I want you in my life, I just don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to keep you safe.”

“Let me come with you.” You responded, “next time you go back to the city, let me come. I want to see where you live and… I don’t know, maybe meet your friends? Or…” you felt a little embarrassed at the next words that came out of your mouth, but you weren’t exactly sure how else to say it, “work colleagues…”

Harry cracked the biggest fucking grin at how you phrased it, but he tried to not laugh so he wouldn’t embarrass you. “Alright. Tomorrow. I’ll take you back with me.”

“Tomorrow?” You blinked, not expecting him to just willingly agree like that.

“Yes. I don’t have a job until Thursday so we’ll have a couple of days together. But that’s only if you don’t have college or wo-”

“I don’t.” You interrupted quickly, knowing very well you did have university and work. Harry knew that too, he just wanted to see if you’d really skip a few days of responsibility for him. “I’d love to go.”

Harry smirked, nearly getting all worked up again at the thought of his angel skipping classes just to spend time with him. “Good…” He then cleared his throat and sat up so he could look at you, “I want you to have this.”

He removed his signature cross necklace from around his neck and motioned for you to sit up as well. “Harry… I couldn’t”

“You can.” He pressed, placing the necklace over your head. He eyed the way it fell right between your breasts and pulled your hair out from underneath it so it wouldn’t get tangled. “Always wear this, y/n. I mean it. The moment I take you into the city there will be people who care that you know me and they’ll use it against me.” Harry played with the cross between two fingers, rubbing his thumb over the front of it, “Wearing this… it’s a protection.”

“How?...” You whispered, looking between the necklace and his gorgeous green eyes.

“Because this-” his hand fell to your thigh, squeezing over the plastic film of your tattoo, “-tells me that you’re mine and this-” he grabbed the chain again, tugging it ever so slightly, “tells the entire fucking world.”

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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eupheme · 2 days

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— hit the road [into the fire, part vi] [finale]

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, hurt/comfort, kissing, fingering, light dacryphilia, rough PiV, creampie, multiple orgasms

a/n: the final part! thank you so much for checking out this series! 💖

“You still mad?” He husks, pulling back to let his lips brush yours. His thumb swirls against your clit. Tempering the pitch of your groan, as you buck into his touch.

It makes you remember just how angry you had been with him, the day before. His harsh words already easing with the way he slaughtered all those men for you.

“Yes.” Your teeth nip at him, a whine as his fingers slip from you, to tap harshly against your center.

“Good.” He growls, “Don’t hold back on me, now. Want you to ride these fingers, sweetheart.”

(or - the Ghoul does a thorough job of making sure you’re alright.)

You only make it as far as the third room.

The warehouse is empty, the only sound in your quiet footsteps. The hitch of your breath, as you try to catch it. A familiar warmth that you’ve come to associate with him, as he checks for anyone lingering.

An old office door knocked open with the barrel of his shotgun. A bathroom next, the stall doors hanging off their hinges.

An old bunk room, at the end of the hall. A narrow military cot tucked against the wall, next to an overturned desk, age-old papers spilling out against the floor.

His head turns, catching the way you automatically look to him. The way you follow at his heels, his own little shadow.

A ground-out sound slips from his teeth - a decision, as he hauls you in behind him. Your back pressed up against the door as it closes, his swift fingers latching the lock in place.

His look hungry, as your eyes meet him. Caging you in, hands grasping at your waist - a thigh fitting between yours, pressing to your core.

Your hips rock on their own, a shared breath as your nose brushes his cheek. He’s hard against you - since your mouth had first met his. Maybe even before. Meeting the roll of your hips, as your hand reaches down to cover him.

Feeling bold, as he fills your palm. Your fingers curling as he hisses, just before his lips press to yours again.

You can feel him throb against you. As you cup and squeeze - his own fingers flicking at the button of your pants. Going further - his hand twisting until he can fit it down, and tuck it against your cunt.

Rough fingers parting you. Slipping over slick skin, as you tug at his belt.

“Always so fuckin’ wet for me,” He husks, a low hum at your expression. The half-lidded eyes as he pets at your clit - your own hand going still, distracted.

“Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Pinching your clit, sending a pulse of pleasure-pain down your spine.

“Only for you.” You breathe.

A rough growl, as his other hand reaches, to finish your job for you. Wrenching open the zipper, letting your hand slip beneath.

“I know. Only for me.”

It’s a sigh, as your skin meets his, squeezing.

You think he’d take you right here. Spin you around and fuck you against the door, and you’d let him. His fingers already nudging at your hole, teasing the tip into where you need him.

You whine in surprise, when his hand slips free. A rough hum around his fingers, licking them clean, when he sees your expression - as he herds you back towards the cot.

Shoulders rolling, his bandolier and his bag dropped on the table. That dark coat slipping from his arms. Flung across the cot, so you’re not wrapped up in the filth that splatters the outside when he fucks you.

Stalking toward you until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, sending you down. That thrill shoots through you, at how easy it is for his fingers to catch around the waistband of your pants, to tug them down.

You lean forward enough to work the laces free on your boots, kicking the layers off until you’re bare.

Watching as he regards you, in faded shades of blue and worn leather. Broad-shouldered with a trim waist, all hidden by the bulk of his tattered coat. Fingers at his throat - loosening the snaps, before he’s straddling the end of the cot.

His eyes doing a slow sweep, a pinch to his brow - almost as if confirming that there weren’t any other marks on you that weren’t left by his own hand, or mouth.

Bending low when he is content - hands catching your thighs, pushing, to keep them apart. A slow drag of his tongue against your pussy, before his fingers follow to fit inside you.

Arcing over you, swallowing your cry - licking into your mouth so you can taste how you meld together.

Losing just a bit of the messy, hungry edge from earlier. His free hand slipping up - palm curled around your neck. Almost as if remembering how to do so, as he lazily deepens the kiss.

The plunge of his fingers is loud. Two notched deep, stretching you out. This he has not forgotten - how to press and curl his fingers until you are keening.

“You still mad?” He husks, pulling back to let his lips brush yours.

His thumb swirls against your clit. Tempering the pitch of your groan, as you buck into his touch.

It makes you remember just how angry you had been with him, the day before. His harsh words already easing with the way he slaughtered all those men for you.

“Yes.” Your teeth nip at him, a whine as his fingers slip from you, to tap harshly against your center.

“Good.” He growls, “Don’t hold back on me, now. Want you to ride these fingers, sweetheart.”

Encouraging your hips to roll, to buck into his touch. Chasing the high that shoots through you, with each pound of his fingers.

A rough sound of approval when your hand slips beneath your shirt. His own leaving your throat to tug at the hem. A bitten out “off ” that has you tugging it over your head, the faded bra following.

Nipples tight when his teeth pinch against them. A ragged groan as you reach down - your fingers joining his, his thumb tucked in between them.

He lets you touch yourself for a moment, the needy circle of your fingertips, before he’s batting your hand away.

“Only way you’re gonna come is by me,” The Ghoul rasps, “You need to keep your hands busy, then you keep ‘em right here.”

Guiding your hand down to his cock, letting your fingers wrap around. Your thumb slick when it brushes the head, his grunt low as you try to stroke him.

Desire warm in your belly and thrumming in your veins with how hard he is. At the feral sound he makes when your fingers flex, dipping down to stroke against the tight seam of his sack.

It sends you higher, each flick of his thumb and crook of his fingers bringing you closer and closer, until you’re there.

“Oh.” It’s ragged, as you chase the building pressure. His hand at your hip, biting into your skin, “Fuck, I’m gonna come -”

Your moan breaks, as the pleasure rushes over you. Pooling low in your cunt as you clench around his fingers, then rippling outwards.

“There you fuckin’ go,” He hums, watching your eyes flutter shut. The pinch of your brow, the small of your back arching off the table as you cry out.

Drawing out your orgasm, as his fingers stroke. One of your hands pinching at your tits, the other forgotten as it curls around his cock. Almost missing the way his hips cant into your touch, matching the thrust of his fingers.

Teers prick at your eyes. A whine as his fingers slip free, only to press against your mouth. Dipping past your lips as they part - your gaze heavy-lidded as your teeth pinch down, tongue licking across his knuckles. Sucking the taste of you off them, with his eyes greedily fixed on you.

“Fuck.” It’s caught in his throat.

Man-handling you as he shifts forward. Tugging your thighs over his, thumbs pressing into the joints of your knees as he pushes them up towards your chest. Spreading you wide - opened beneath him.

His spit-slicked fingers drifting to wrap around his cock. The flushed head ghosting across your cunt as his hips shift. Leaving a sticky spot against your belly, as he imagines how deeply you’ll take him.

“Fuck me.” You beg, hips hitching.

He growls in response. The fat tip slipping across your clit, notching at your entrance. Your muscles tense in anticipation, still unable to help the ragged gasp as he fills you with a swift thrust.

Even with the way he made you come, there’s still that ache. The heavy weight of him fitting inside you, his teeth clenched as he feels the way you wrap so tightly around him.

“Were made to take me,” His voice ragged, as his hips move, “Weren’t you?”

Rough skin dragging against your walls, as he watches how you squirm beneath him. All you can do is nod, the words caught in your throat.

It knocks something loose inside you. How big he feels, the stretch of him. The ache in your limbs, the drain of adrenaline and the sweet embrace of relief.

Your moan hitches. The tears spill over. Cutting through the dust on your cheeks, glinting in the light.

He throbs inside you at the sight. A heave of his chest, a stuttered slowing of his hips at the choked noise you make.

But you need this. Need him - need to forget everything else.

“Don’t you fucking stop.” Your teeth are bared, and something flickers in his expression. The smallest dip of his head, before his grip is tightening around your thighs.

“I’ve got you.” He husks, as he pulls you to meet him.

Driving harder into you. Leaving you breathless, panting. Until you’re thoroughly distracted, too full to feel anything other than him.

Mindless, just how he likes you when he’s buried inside your cunt. The tip of his tongue drags against your cheek - catching a glimmering tear, before his lips are pressing to yours.

You want his mouth everywhere. Between your thighs again. You wonder if this is why he held back - that spark that ignites when you slot your mouth with his, the shiver when his tongue brushes yours.

You don’t want him to ever stop.

“You're gonna give me another.” It’s a command. Short and rough - breathed out against your lips when he pulls back.

He clicks his tongue, with the shake of your head. That heated look dragging down you again, fixing where he spears into you.

“I can’t-” You gasp, but you can feel it.

How his cock strokes against that spot deep inside you. Each breath short as you reach - nails biting into his wrist, where he keeps your thighs spread wide.

“You will.” He vows, through gritted teeth.

Filling you, only to ease himself out - drive himself again to the hilt. Your gasps loud and unfiltered as he brings you higher, words tumbling from your mouth.

You think he can make you - with the tight clench in your belly, the desperation that tinges the sounds pulled from you.

He’s done it before, after all.

“Oh, god,” It’s a needy sob, as you watch the way his fingers tighten their grip. Head lifting to watch the glossy shine of his cock, as it pounds into you.

He grunts, loosening his grip - fingers slipping against where you’re stretched wide around him. Slick when they circle your clit again, that spark inside you roaring.

Another panting breath, another plea,“Oh my god-”

“Cooper, darlin’.” He rasps, “Call me-”

"Cooper.” You echo - his name drawing out long and low between your lips.

Feeling right, something missing clicking into place.

His hips grind harshly against yours, a broken sound caught in his throat when he hears you say it.

Such a small thing to have such a weight. But it does - you know what it means, for him to gift you this.

You try it again, his eyes fixed on the way your lips round with his name, how you clench around him with the tight swirl of his fingers.

"That’s right.” Cooper growls, “You gonna be cryin’ out a name, it fuckin’ better be mine.”

Again, and then again. Until is long, drawn out.

A plea that breaks, as you cry out - when he makes you come hard around him. Your nerves are a live wire - the ceiling above swirling into a haze as everything fades to white noise. All you can feel is him.

He fucks you through it - hands easing down to grasp at your hips, keeping your hips meeting his as you pulse around his cock.

Fingers lazy as they swirl against your clit, until you’re bucking with overstimulation. Trying to push his hand away - but he flattens it, possessive with the way he keeps it tucked against soaked skin.

This time when you come down, he lets you breathe. His cock still notched deep, feeling the fluttering aftershocks of your orgasm as he arcs over you.

Your eyes dazed, a cock-drunk smile as they drag across his face. Sharp cheekbones and rough edges. Pretty, you think - and not for the first time.

Greedy as they dip lower, to his throat - all that open skin, new to your eyes. He catches you looking at him - his own eyes narrowing. The flick of his tongue against his teeth.

“Go on, now.” He husks.

Waiting for you to ask. Giving in, when you do.

It’s slow, how you reach. The tips of your fingers mapping his scarred skin. Thumb pressing into the hollow of his throat - drifting down to the hard muscle of his chest, where his faded shirt parts.

Tugging at the fabric - head tipping up so you can press your lips against the healed gnarl of skin, where he had taken a bullet from you.

Close enough that you can hear how his breath comes out ragged. A low groan against your teeth when they scrape his neck - your hand pressed too close to the gallop of the heart.

It has him leaning away from you. Catching your wrists, the brush of his lips against the bruised skin, before he’s dragging them down and pinning them against your belly.

A flicker of pain as you gasp, punctuated by a harsh thrust of his hips. Your tits bouncing where they’re framed by your arms, his fingers pinching against your skin as he does it again.

You’re slick around him. Can hear each plunge of his cock - his eyes dropping to see how you smear across the base. Sticky against his sack when he grinds deep, from when you gushed as he fucked your release from you.

It’s not an act, the way you sigh his name. The way you clench, as if to keep him inside.

“Too fuckin’ good,” Cooper growls, feeling your spiked pulse beneath his fingertips. How you squirm, brow pinched as he arcs over you.

As he takes. As if he thought he wouldn’t get this chance, again.

As if you're his, and you just might be.

It shoots straight to his cock, the tightening in his belly. Driving him near feral, with the way you watch, the hot shimmer of desire.

“Gonna come in your tight, sweet cunt. Fill her up right.” It comes out low, almost desperate - if he could be. Those sharp thrusts turning shallow as your hips move, chasing after him.

Your eyes fix on his, teeth sinking into your lip as you grin. Knees closing around lithe hips, your ankle hooking around his to keep him close.

“Please.” You beg, “Cooper, please -”

The sound of his name has his teeth clicking together. A ragged groan, pressure against your wrists as he leans into you.

Fitting his hips flush with yours, as he comes. Cock heavy and twitching as his hips rut - fucking his come deeper inside you with each pulse as he empties himself.

Panting as he drifts down, but there’s no menace in the sharp edge of his words.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, sweetheart.”

It feels different this time.

The weight of him as he stays seated in you. His fingers are still tight around your wrists, keeping you close on his terms. A hand planted near your shoulder, as the heave of breath slows.

Something from before, slipping in.

He didn’t have to find you. You don’t even know how he did.

Didn’t have to kill those men. Lay you down on his coat, fuck you until you couldn’t even think -

It has to mean something.

And with the way his eyes trace over your face…

You know that Cooper feels it, too.

When you jolt awake, you’re alone.

You’re not sure when you drifted off, a wince when your hand scrubs over your face. An ache in your cheek, a much duller one settling between your thighs.

The spot next to you is cool, the coat gone. Your stomach flips, uneasy. Fingers fumbling as you redress - already stumbling for the door as you tug on your boots.

A knot winding tight in your chest as you slip through the door. A ragged sigh of relief when you see him, your back sagging against the wall.

Not used to being idle. Finishing up his business, snapping the metal lid shut on a small crate.

“Cooper.”

His name rings out - those dark eyes finding you instantly.

Crossing the room slowly, with the jangle of his spurs. Knuckles tipping up your chin, frowning at your expression.

"Thought you were gone," You huff, embarrassed, “Thought it was all a dream.”

There’s the lightest twitch of his lips.

“If that was your dreams,” He husks, “I’d hate to see your nightmares, sweetheart.”

It’s the first time that the field has been leveled, between you. Something charged sparking, in the slow sweep of his eyes.

“What next?” Your question is quiet - rough hum, as his eyes narrow.

“Mean to find a courier.” His head tilts towards the crate behind him, “Send a lil’ somethin’ back to your Vault. Gotta see a man ‘bout his brother, too.”

The implications of both makes your stomach churn - another reminder of just how dangerous he is.

You blink, with a small nod, “And… and after?”

“And after,” He drawls - with the sweep of his thumb against your chin, “I suppose we’ll have to see where the road takes us.”

Cooper’s hand drops. Palm upright, as it extends between you - an offer.

Giving you a chance to run, now that your life is your own.

“You in, sweetheart?”

It’s easy to answer.

With a smile -

You take it.

the end! ✨

honestly, thank you so much for reading this. I was feral over the idea of a one-shot, and there was so many kind comments that it blossomed into a longer story for them 💖 every comment has meant so much, and I have loved every second of writing this! thank you for the encouragement, and giving me an excuse to write more, because ahh I was (and am!!) so hooked! you all are the best. would love to know what you thought!

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

330 notes · View notes

sixosix · 1 day

Text

KING OF MY HEART, BODY AND SOUL | LYNEY

notes 2k words, does contain arlecchino quest spoilers but it’s nothing too big, mom and dad are fighting (i could be talking about any of them)

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Rosalie eyes the flower warily. “What am I supposed to do with that? My hands are—” The terrifying stranger pitches the flower to her lap, a clear rebuttal, “—tied… Okay.”

She wishes she could kick it off, yet her legs were also tied. Defeated, she accepts the offering but doesn’t say a word about it. Gratitude is far from what Rosalie is feeling at the moment. Ingratitude, fear, confusion. Those describe it better.

For better or for worse, Rosalie scrambles to take hold of the conversation, if only to show these people that she wouldn’t show her ingratitude, fear, and confusion. The flower jostles with her rough movements. “You’re—Fatui, aren’t you? I believe all of you owe me more than just a talk. What do you want with my child?”

“Hey, lady,” the woman with the purple hood once again growls, “don’t talk to The Knave like that!”

The Knave. That sounds so familiar. Rosalie thinks deeply, wondering where she had heard it from in passing.

“It’s alright. She’s distressed,” The Knave addresses her subordinates, but she’s looking right at Rosalie. “You may refer to me as The Knave. Arlecchino, fourth of the eleven Fatui Harbingers.”

Harbingers. Out of the eleven, she managed to rope herself into the fourth one. Rosalie turns just a little bit pale. A Harbinger had been inside her shop without her knowing. If you had come home earlier, what would The Knave have done? Rosalie doesn’t know if this situation is any better, either.

“And, just so you know, before she was yours, she was my child first,” The Knave muses.

Oh. Right. Previous Fatuus and The Knave is a Harbinger—that makes sense.

“But—she’s not even involved with any of you anymore, right?” Rosalie asks weakly, her stomach taut with apprehension. “Why are you doing this? Where is she right now?”

The Knave appraises Rosalie for a good minute, as if her sorry state would make the choice for her. “I gave Y/N plenty of freedom. If I didn’t, you never would’ve even met her.”

Rosalie bristles. “What, I have to be grateful?”

The Knave huffs out a small laugh. “That would be narcissistic of me. Of course not. But you shouldn’t be hostile. If I meant to harm Y/N, I would’ve done so already.”

“Did you let her go on purpose?” Rosalie asks. She’s getting agitated by the power this woman is clearly showing off.

“I suppose you could say that,” The Knave wonders. “But I just had no worries. I’m more familiar with her than you think. I knew that she wouldn’t have gone too far. I knew this would happen eventually.”

Rosalie is confused. What is this? Was this one of those monologues that the bad guys jump into to reveal their master plan—like, in the musical plays?

“Of course, no one could have foreseen the Traveler's appearance.” The Knave taps a clawed finger on her chin thoughtfully. “That also made it much more complicated than it was supposed to be.”

Traveler. Where has Rosalie heard that before? “The Traveler… The Outlander? Aether?”

“Correct. Aether, as some of you prefer to address him. Had it not been for his interference, perhaps this wouldn't have turned out differently—he is an unexpected factor. Though, you, Miss Rosalie, you’re also one.”

Rosalie is still very much confused. But she sits still, obedient, wondering where this might go. The villains would reveal some flaw in their master plan somewhere.

“Or perhaps I would’ve left all of you alone had it not been for Lyney’s disobedience.” Wait, Lyney? “I will not have any distractions to the children occupied with their missions. He has already failed.”

“Y/N has been by my side almost every day. How would she have managed to sabotage a Fatui operation?” Rosalie asks.

“Showing up to Lyney’s show was enough of a distraction. I must admit, even I didn’t expect her to appear that soon. It must be The Traveler.”

“Wait, it was truly Mr. Lyney?!” Rosalie wasn’t even aware that Aether had been more than he let on, much less Mr. Lyney being Fatui.

Oh. Oh! Rosalie remembers now. The day she first saw Aether and Paimon was the day they went to watch Mr. Lyney’s magic show. Since then, you have begun acting strange, and Aether started to linger more often, but Rosalie hasn’t given it much thought. She simply chalked it up to you making friends—definitely not messing up a Fatui operation.

“Are you following, Miss Rosalie? Lyney has failed, and Y/N has disrupted our mission. You see, children in the House who go against our rules receive punishment.”

Rosalie doesn’t like where this is going. She knows the answer already: “What is the punishment?”

“Their lives.”

Rosalie winces. Fatui don’t play around.

“But Y/N isn’t part of the House anymore…?”

“Her memories are no different than one of a child currently in the House.”

At her stunned silence, The Knave seems to take pity. “I have a child that’s concocted a potion to make them kill a part of themselves that was involved with the Fatui.”

Kill a part of themselves?

Rosalie’s brain lags for a second. “Are—are you saying no one’s dyi—”

“If Y/N has no secrets to spill, then there is no reason to punish her. She can enjoy a life that never involves the Fatui in the first place. However, you became a factor. It would’ve been difficult for me to make her forget everything when you were there. If I make her forget her life in the House, she will forget you too, as everything that led up to meeting you involved the House. And that would make things a lot more complicated than necessary on your part.”

Is… she saying that she considered Rosalie’s feelings?

“Now, I am here to allow you to decide. You could also choose to forget her.” The Knave perches a hand on her hip. “You’re her mother now, are you not?”

“Why didn’t you ask Y/N first?”

“Would her answer dictate your decision?”

“Of course.”

“Even if she chose to forget you?”

Rosalie’s mouth parts for an answer. She wishes it was quicker than The Knave’s question that Rosalie feared more than anything, but instead, she finds herself uncertain. “…If that’s what she desires. I have no right to tie her by my side.”

“Hm. Quite an answer.” The Knave looks at Rosalie with what feels like a smile. It certainly doesn’t appear as one—neither side of her lips quirked, but her eyes felt lighter. “But do not worry. It’s why you’re here. Y/N would be asked, eventually.”

Ah. So Rosalie is just bait.

She wants to feel angry at the woman in front of her, but to her horror, she is instead understanding her. Like she could read what The Knave has been concealing behind each word—what the diplomat truly wants to say.

Rosalie hesitates, looking up at The Knave through her lashes. Her crimson eyes are terrifying, and having been tied up to a chair while the fourth of the Fatui Harbingers is standing is just as unsettling—Rosalie hasn’t relaxed an inch throughout the entire conversation.

“You still think of her as your child, don’t you?” Rosalie asks Arlecchino.

Arlecchino, fourth of the Harbingers, director and ‘Father’ of the House, turns away. “Attachments to traitors are only a hindrance in the House.”

It is not a clear answer, but doesn’t that make it clearer?

Rosalie takes a deep breath. She takes one long look at the flower on her lap, thinking back to when you first held one from her shop, froze it, looked at her with the roundest, fearful eyes, and knew that her answer was clear, too.

Thunder roared as the sun dipped behind the rolling hills of Fontaine. It struck badly and poured even worse. Each second passing without Rosalie in your sight, without knowing what could’ve happened to her, itched your rage and despair more and more. The more you worry, the more your temper rises.

You were arguing with Aether as to whether or not you should get the freaking Iudex involved—you vehemently refused, while Aether asserted that it was for Rosalie’s safety as well—when you spotted two familiar figures from afar.

Lynette is leading Lyney inside the shop, side by side. Your ire grows exponentially at the sight of them, hackles rising in a snap. How dare they. How dare they have the nerve to even think about showing their faces to you? How dare Lyney march back into your second life like he didn’t just ruin your first one, but now this, too.

Lyney’s eyes are wide with worry as they reach the door. “Y/N, what happened—”

“Of course you knew where I live,” you say, brimming with contempt. “Did you tell that to your ‘Father’, too? Or was she the one who told you?”

“I was the one who knew, Y/N,” Lynette admits, her voice infuriatingly calm. “Lyney knew you wouldn’t want him knowing where you lived, so I volunteered to get intel and give you his gift. We came here because we thought ‘Father’ did something, and, well…”

The atmosphere drops. Everyone feels it—everyone but you, the catalyst. They flinch at the assault of the biting chill, of your fury in the form of a glacier.

“What… happened?” Lynette asks cautiously, quietly. You’ve never seen her terrified of you; it’s so wrong, but what they’re doing to you isn’t right either. So, really, who’s the bad guy here?

“Rosalie’s been kidnapped,” you say, clipped.

“Your guardian,” Lynette says, surprised. “The woman who runs the shop, right?”

“My mother. Don’t act like you didn’t expect this to happen.”

“We’re pawns in this, too,” Lyney says, finally finding his voice, it seems. “Please, I know it doesn’t seem that way right now. Let us prove it to you if you let us help—”

You scoffed, bitter and cold. You bit back the bite of ice and wondered how ironic it was that every time your Vision acted out, it was, more often than not, tied to Lyney.

“What, so you expect me to believe you’d just go against your ‘Father’ like that?”

“I would,” Lyney says without missing a beat.

How maddening. Aether, Lynette, and Paimon were shivering, wide-eyed and unsure, yet Lyney stood unfazed. No, he burns. His eyes, his gaze, they smolder your bleak anger. But that only serves to irritate you even more.

“Lyney,” you warn.

“I would, Y/N,” Lyney cuts, eyes narrowed fiercely. “I would for you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lyney.”

“I do. And you know I do!”

“Give me a good reason to believe that.”

“Because I lo—” Lyney grits his teeth, and finally, some real emotion—no more tricks, no more lies; his frustration satisfies you—at least until he says, “I like you, okay? You know this.”

Maybe deep down, you really did know. You felt it. Maybe you even feel the same. But your brain’s fogged over, and all you can think about is how Lyney keeps taking everything from you—‘Father’, your pride, your spotlight, and now Rosalie.

Aether reaches out. “Y/N—”

“Shut up. None of this would’ve happened if I never met you,” you snap, turning away at the sight of his eyes flashing with hurt.

You turn and stomp off, refusing to acknowledge their protests and Lyney’s weak pleading. The door slams shut and rattles, with ice spreading from where you’ve touched it. “Find your sister yourself. Stupid brothers, getting me involved… This is why I’m an only child…”

And so you’re back to square one. Alone. So be it. Maybe this is truly where you belong, anyway. You don’t need them, and you definitely don’t need Lyney and his blind love.

This is how it would come to be, eventually. You, leaving; or them, leaving you. You long expected it. Or maybe it is because you forced it—you wanted it like you’d feel in control if things went exactly as you expected.

So why does leaving them feel nothing like control?

notes i know i kept saying i was excited to post this chapter, but now that im actually posting it i got nervous LMFAOO its been a month since the last update. i dont know how i did tbh!!! but either way, tysm for reading and i hope u can stay with me for four more chapters <3

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @lovelyevil @iawaaaaaa @rionah @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlololol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci @lunavixia @beaniedoodz @wendolrea @avalordream @egoistars @rains-mae @magnificentfireball @poemzcheng @fiannee @ask-kurayami-akura @sc4rlett-letter @xxxion @wangshuu @deathkat657 @powchakko @beasalmeh @h-8chi @lovelypadisarah @unstablemiss @huanator @ceneid

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 days

Text

if u think i’m pretty || chris & matt sturniolo || the finale

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. threesome time😛 the boys are just a tad like just a sprinkle of mean/rough. sorry mom. this is just utter filth. the long awaited finale is HERE. holy fucking shit i did not expect this series to blow tf up, yall have been so supportive & wonderful & funny asf😭 i’m very honored to be welcomed into the sturniolo community & i thank all of you sm for the support & new mutuals ive made along the way 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

part one w/chris

part two w/matt

An undeniable tension hung over the Sturniolo household. One that Nick couldn’t figure out.

In his mind everything was fine one day and then awkward the next. His three best friends couldn’t stand to look at each other. Chris and Matt wouldn’t stop coming for each other’s necks. It was a complete and utter shit show, one that not only put a dent in their content but with their personal lives too.

After a week or so Nick had decided he was going to fix this, whether the three of you liked it or not. You sighed, crossing your arms as Nick handed you a flashlight. “Why are we doing this again?” Chris questioned, hesitantly taking the flashlight Nick was offering him. The four of you stood at the door of the basement, awaiting Nick’s explanation as to why he summoned you all here. “It’s our house and if our house is haunted then if there’s a ghost down there it’s our problem,” Nick answered, handing Matt a flashlight.

Matt furrowed his eyebrows. “Aren’t the flashlights kinda dramatic? I mean we have electricity and shit,” He asked. Nick sighed, rolling his eyes. “And if the ghost cuts off the power? Then what? Now let’s get this over with. Tough guy Matt gets to lead the way,” Nick huffed. Matt shrugged, flicking on the light switch to illuminate the stairs. He head down them first, you and Chris exchanging glances. You immediately felt flustered under his gaze. You turned your heels and followed Matt. Chris gave Nick a look, one of suspicion.

He shrugged his own theories off, trudging down after you. The three of you reached the bottom, the basement more furnished than you had remembered. You shivered as the cool air danced across your skin, goosebumps spreading across your body. You looked to the top of the stairs, spotting an unmoving Nick.

“Nick?”

“I don’t know what the actual fuck you three have going on but you need to figure it the fuck out. None of you are leaving this basement until you get your shit together!”

With his words echoing off the walls, he slammed the basement door shut. You could hear the clicking of a lock, your eyebrows furrowing. “This is all your fault, you can’t keep your hands off of what’s mine, can you?” Chris barked. His venomous words were directed at Matt, who looked like he was ready to throw a punch. “Oh i’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were dating. Tell me, is it an open relationship? I saw what’s her name leaving your room this morning,” Matt debated. Chris took a step closer to him, glaring at him.

It dumbfounded you that they appeared to be trying to size each other up, despite being the literal exact same height. “I don’t do that 1950’s shit, you know she’s mine by the way she moans my name,” Chris argued. Matt snickered, rolling his eyes. “She moans mine louder you man whore,” He smirked. Chris began to push Matt’s shoulders aggressively, the two beginning to turn the altercation physical. You dashed in between them, putting one hand on each of their chest.

“Jesus Christ stop it! You two have been driving me nuts!” You yelled. Both boys looked down at you, their focus centering on you. “Enough of this alpha wolf bullshit you guys have going on. I like fucking both of you, believe it or not,” You huffed. You pushed them back, the boys willing taking one step backwards. “Are you both really going to bicker and hate each other the rest of your lives because you both fucked me? For fucks sake-” You began rambling.

What you didn’t know and what Nick didn’t know, is that none of their hatred was real. Matt was a logical person even when his dick was involved. Late one night he shoved up at Chris’s bedroom door, the two coming to a resolution. They both enjoyed fucking you. They both enjoyed the idea of watching you fall apart in between them. But you going behind Chris’s back to fuck Matt? That couldn’t go unpunished. So instead of giving you what you wanted, they dangled the carrot in front of you.

Purposefully Chris would have his usual flings over, convincing them to be as loud as possible to get your attention. Matt on the other hand would masturbate in more public places. Mostly the shower, making sure you were hanging out in his room so the walls connected. He’d groan and pant dramatically, pumping his cock to the thought of you. You expected to be railed when he came back. But instead? Nothing. The boys kept you hot and bothered, intently driving you insane.

They also kept up the arguing banter, picking fights with one another any time you were around. Chris was responsible for this idea. He wanted you to lose your cool, finally telling both of them how you felt to their faces. And now as you stood in between them, they exchanged knowing glances. Their plan had worked.

“Are you both even listening?” You questioned, offended that the boys seemed more amused than anything else. Chris shrugged, readjusting his beanie. “We’re just wondering when it’s gonna hit you,” He replied honestly. You turned towards Matt. “What’s he talking about?” You asked. Matt took a step towards you, gently guiding your chin to look upwards. You felt your breath hitch under his simple touch, the sensation one they had purposely deprived you of.

“We just want to watch you fall apart for us baby, you don’t have to choose,” Matt answered, gently tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You felt Chris’s hands grab your waist from behind, his body pressing against yours. “Just want you to be a good girl for us, you can do that, can’t you?” Chris asked, pressing a soft kiss against your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, his hands traveling up to your breast. “Yes, I can,” You agreed, swallowing. Your mouth was running dry, your cheeks flushing pink.

Chris roughly grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking you closer to him. “Fucking Matt behind my back though? I can’t overlook that sweetheart, you need to be punished,” He purred. You whimpered under his hold, Matt pressing his body against yours. “You can handle it, you’re our good girl,” Matt cooed, his soft voice making you relax just the slightest bit. You could feel your panties begin to dampen under their hold, the constant shift in dynamic only making you more turned on. Matt pressed his lips against your neck, a whimper escaping your lips.

“And you know i’ll make you feel good,” Matt chuckled, kissing down your neck. He dropped to his knees in front of you, staring up at you with puppy dog eyes. “Can I remove these?” He asked softly, his fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. You sighed in relief as Chris let go of your hair, allowing you to look down. “Matty please,” You pleaded. Chris’s large hand was on you again, squeezing around your throat. “Matty please,” He snickered mockingly. You groaned under Chris’s rough touch, his spare hand slipping under your shirt.

Coolness hit your exposed cunt as your shorts and panties pooled at your ankles. Tenderly Matt kissed the inside of your thighs, taking his time to tease you. “If you want him to get on with it you gotta use your words princess. Tell Matty what you want,” Chris barked, nipping on your earlobe. Your hand flew down to Matt’s hair, desperation flooding over you. “Please eat me out, or finger me, just something. Please. I need your mouth,” You begged. You tried to buck your hips towards his mouth, the brunette amused. Matt chuckled as he brought his mouth to your heat, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned, Matt’s tongue lapping just where you needed him the most. He swirled his tongue around your clit, licking up your juices like a starving man. “How does that feel princess?” Chris asked, squeezing the sides of your throat. You were a mess, gripping Matt’s hair as you grinded against his face. “So fucking good, so so so good,” You babbled, Matt’s lips wrapping around your clit. Chris released your throat, keeping his hand wrapped around your neck but allowing you to breathe.

You groaned as Matt continued to abuse your cunt with his tongue, a familiar knot forming in your stomach. “S-shit i’m gonna-” You began, Chris’s grip on your throat returning. “Not fucking yet, hold it,” He ordered. You could feel your thighs begin to tremble, Chris’s strong hands holding you in place as Matt continued to suck at your clit. His pupils were blown with lust as he looked up at you, admiring the sight of you crumbling above him. Pleas began to spill from your lips as you squeezed your thighs, Chris’s words sending you over the edge:

“Cum.”

Ecstasy didn’t even begin to describe the euphoric feeling the boys had sent you into. Your heart was pounding, your breathing shallow as Matt rose to his feet. He brought his lips to yours, roughly kissing you as Chris released your throat. You felt Chris roughly grab your ass, his hard cock poking you from behind. You made an effort to try to palm him through his pants, but instead he pulled away. You strayed away from Matt’s lips, glancing back at Chris.

“You wanna fuck Matt so bad? Go on then,” Chris spat. Matt walked over to the couch sitting down,cockily man spreading as he smiled at you. “W-what-” You stuttered, humiliation falling on you like a ton of bricks. Chris roughly grabbed your face, forcing your lips to puff out like a fish. “You couldn’t stop yourself from fucking him right? Now you get to do it again. Go ride his cock for me,” Chris huffed. You whimpered as he brought his lips to yours, before shoving you in Matt’s direction.

With quick maneuvering you both stripped Matt of his jeans and boxers, his hard cock hitting his stomach. “Dont be nervous baby, i’ll help you,” Matt cooed, kissing your back. You turned to meet Chris’s gaze, his eyes centered on the sight in front of him. He was sitting on the coffee table, palming himself through his sweatpants as you lined Matt’s cock with your entrance. You had never rode someone like this before, gripping Matt’s knees for support as you faced Chris.

You could feel Matt’s ring dip indents into your hips as he guided you, his cock bottoming out inside of you. To Chris, it was like watching a live porn video with him in it. Matt tenderly kissed your back, allowing you to adjust as your walls spasmed around his cock. He helped you slip off your shirt and bra, leaving you completely exposed to Chris. “Fuck,” You whined, Matt’s cock brushing against your g spot.

Your eyes screwed themselves shut, Matt’s hands gripping you harder has guided you to ride him. Mesmerized he watched your ass bounce up and down on his cock, your cunt eagerly taking his cock as you rode him. “Such a good whore for us,” Matt groaned, biting his bottom lip. You could barely focus on moving your hips, Matt’s cock creating the most sinful noises from your lips. “Look at me,” Chris huffed. Your gaze centered on Chris, who was pink in the face. Cock in hand, he licked his lips eyeing you hungrily.

“That make you feel good? Being a toy for us?” Chris asked mockingly, tilting his head to the side. You nodded in agreement, Matt’s hips beginning to buck up into yours. He was fucking you from underneath, your legs becoming putty under his touch. Matt couldn’t take it anymore, needing to bend you over and ruin you. He grabbed your hips, planting you on the couch on all fours. Your back arched instinctively, Matt’s cock beginning to ram into you mercilessly.

Chris ran his thumb over his slit, quietly whimpering at the sight of Matt snapping his hips into yours. His cock was buried so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars, your moans of Matt’s name echoing off of the basement walls. Originally Chris had intended on waiting for his turn, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to feel you, any part of you. He would never admit it, but he was just as desperate for you as Matt was. He kneeled in front of you, brushing your hair out of your face.

You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock, your tongue flattening out on your bottom lip. “You filthy slut, fuck, you’re perfect,” Chris groaned, burying his cock into your mouth. He pushed his cock back further into you, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears flooded your waterline as he used your mouth as he pleased, curses leaving his lips. “So fucking tight,” Matt murmured, pounding into your cunt. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, your cunt milking his cock.

“Fuck, gonna fill you up. Gonna make you full of me,” Matt panted, throwing a smirk in Chris’s direction. You moaned around Chris’s shaft, the vibrations only making him harder. With a few more thrust Matt was cumming, flooding your cunt with his seed. You could feel the warmness of his cum filling you, pulling his cock slowly out of your cunt. Saliva was dripping down the sides of your mouth, dripping onto the couch below.

The boys switched positions, jealousy radiating off of Chris. He would’ve loved to cum down your pretty little throat, but letting Matt breed you like that? He couldn’t just let him claim you like that. He slid in you with ease, pounding into you like a wild animal. You fell forward, Matt’s soft hand cupping your face. “Awe you’re so cute getting fucked, you know that don’t you?” Matt chuckled. One of Chris’s spare hands snaked down to your clit, drawing sloppy circles. You grabbed onto Matt’s wrist, struggling to keep your eyes open from the pleasure.

Mixtures of their names, curses, and sinful moans were ripped from your throat, Matt’s soft hands never straying from your face. “So beautiful,” He murmured. You could feel him stroking your cheek with his thumb, sweat sticking the hair on your forehead to your skin. “Going to breed you, knock you up,” Chris panted. Your cunt was driving him insane, his orgasm coming close. “I can feel you squeezing me. You’d like that huh? To get knocked up with our kids?” Chris snickered sinisterly. You babbled an agreement, your final orgasm crashing down over you.

Chris threw his head back, his cum mixing with Matt’s as he came deep inside of you. You were seeing stars, your face being held up by Matt’s gentle but reassuring hands. “You did so good for us,” He praised softly. You could feel Chris slip out of you, your cunt red and puffy from the abuse. You whimpered at the loss of contact, Chris chuckling. “I’m right here, relax princess,” He panted. Matt kissed your forehead, the three of you finding contentment in each others presence.

It was odd in a way, to have your rival and best friend beside you. The three of you exposed and vulnerable, coming down from the best highs you’d ever had. Your vision finally settled, your gaze landing on Matt. “Hi there,” He greeted. You giggled, the situation surely odd, but satisfying. It worked for the three of you and that’s all that mattered.

“You think Nick heard any of that?” Chris asked, fixing his sweatpants. He admired his and Matt’s cum dripping out of your cunt, a sly look painted across his face.

“Probably not, I mean we are in the basement after all-”

The three of you could hear the basement door open, Chris quick to stand in front of your exposed body.

“You can bet your ass I most certainly did. Are you jack rabbits done now?” Nick called down the stairs. The three of you awkwardly chuckled, Matt’s face in particular turning pink.

“Yeah we’re done!” Matt yelled back. You could hear Nick verbally sigh.

“Next time i’ll throw some carrots at you guys. Now get up here we have a video to film!”

taglist: (i have no idea if im doing this right sorry guys ily)

@nickgetsmewetter @chvrryzpop @hesvoid34

#matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic

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simpjaes · 2 days

Note

jay would be addicted to your pussy, Jake would worship it, heeseung would get intoxicated by it, sunghoon would go crazy for it

✓ jay would be addicted to your pussy but he would expect you to return the favor and be addicted to his mouth on it & his cock in it. he only gets addicted to a pussy that yearns for him as much as he yearns for it. you've gotta be full of love and he's gotta be able to unwind through fucking you fr. but would absolutely nuzzle his face against your thigh and coo at you like "so pretty, so so pretty." before licking u :(

✘ jake would worship it. yes, but only if you praise and worship him first. [pls forgive me, I read his chart and my entire view of him in bed has altered]. he needs to know you're obsessed with him before he does the same for you. and when I say obsessed, I mean like in an unhealthy way....like you have want him to ruin u. and he would, then he would worship it only after he's fucked it open and made you all sore. fr overstimming u like "this is what you wanted, right baby? look how good you take it."

✓ heeseung would end up intoxicated. yes, he would, to the point he is absolutely going insane on and inside of you. you're taking his cum bby, don't think ur getting out of here empty. needs you to beg him, to the point you're edging yourself every day and night, ready and willing to let him do whatever he wants. and he'd def get intoxicated by the way you let him, and by the way your pussy sucks him in after being neglected for so long. ✓ sunghoon would go crazy for it but no one would know, not even you. fr he'd spend all day pretending like his knees aren't buckling until he finally gets you alone and he's falling to his knees and instantly shoving his mouth between your legs. probably rough about it too. and ur just stumbling through the pleasure like "why are u so horny?" and he'd just be like "stop talking and open your legs" bc it's the only thing he can think about

#enhypen smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut

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sweetbans29 · 1 day

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Friendship Bracelets - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: After getting out of a 2-year relationship, your friends encourage you to get back in the game by putting your phone number on some friendship bracelets for the Taylor Swift concert. You decided to make just one and that one ended up on the one and only Caitlin Clark.

Warnings: Swifties lol, this is like a major cliche but I do not care I am also going to change the order of the setlist to make this fic work better please don't come after me, cheating (not involving Caitlin)

Word Count: 2.3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: This is nothing other than a figment of my imagination.

2 years. 2 years down the drain. 2 years you gave to this guy only to be left heartbroken and angry.

It had been two weeks since you found out your long-term boyfriend had been cheating on you. Something was off with the two of you for a few months before you found out but when you did it all clicked. That was no excuse for what he did, it honestly only made you hate yourself for not ending it when things started to change.

When you found out, you left quietly.

He was expecting you to lash out and make a scene. He expected you to break things and hit him and show all signs of what he did had an effect on you, at least any sign that you were affected. You gave him none of that.

When you found out - you packed up your things while he was at work and left without as much as a note. He tried calling and texting you for the better part of a week before you finally decided to meet with him.

The two of you sat down at a local diner. You barely looked at him as he tried to come up with any sort of excuse. It was miserable. when you were done sitting there watching him struggle, you finally spoke.

"I don't want to hear any of it. All I want is an apology and I will be going my own way. That is the least you can do for throwing away the last five years," you say making direct eye contact with him now.

He sits there, speechless. He tries to find words and you sit there watching him try to form an apology. Before he can form any coherent response, you get up and walk out not wanting to give the man in front of you any more time.

The next week was a rough one for you. You were incredibly thankful that you have a solid group of friends who have been nothing but supportive. They watched over you like a hawk, making sure you were always with someone and were kept busy.

That leads you to sitting at your friend's kitchen table, listening to Tayor Swift, snacking on some Chick-fil-A all while making friendship bracelets for the concert you guys will be going to in a few days.

You are focused on getting the beads threaded on the string in front of you when your friend hits your elbow causing you to spill all the beads you just put on.

"Cas! I was just about to finish this one," you say frustrated as you are on bracelet 20. Your friends told you you had to make 50 before you could even think about leaving the table. You gather the beads you were just using and begin to start making it again.

"I'm sorry!" She says as she grabs a nugget. One of your other friends chimes in after looking at your pile of bracelets.

"You know, it might not be the worst idea to put your number on some of those bracelets." She says as if you didn't just get out of a long-term relationship. You just give her a look.

"This could be good!" Another one of your friends yells as she points at you. "You will be in a stadium full of girls, singing their heart out to Taylor Swift - it has been a minute since you've been on the fun side." She says referring to your last relationship being Jacob, before him, you were dating a girl and were so much freer.

"Guys, it has literally been 2 weeks. It hasn't even been a month since I have been single. Let a girl heal," you say getting annoyed at your friends.

"Come on, it doesn't have to be serious. This could be a good distraction for you!" One friend says. Another pitches in, "Ya! That's actually a good idea, just something fun, a little distraction!"

"I am not going to put my number on a beaded bracelet," you say. "That seems desperate and I am not desperate, I am healing," You whisper the last part.

"Come on, just a few." You are now being passed the number beads. You make no move to grab them.

You know your friends mean well but this was a little much. They were lucky you were even going - the thought of going to a TSwift concert right after a breakup is daunting.

"No." Is all you say.

"Yes, you are going to make a few, you don't have to give them out if you don't want but if you make them then at least you have the option." One of your friends says.

"Fine, I will make ONE that has my number," you say so they would all shut up. "But I have no plans of handing it out."

The rest of the night is spent finishing up the bracelets. You made so many bracelets, you felt like your fingers were going to fall off.

The day of the concert is pure chaos. Your friends wanted to get there like 10 hours early to get in line for merch and make sure you have plenty of time to take photos. You follow along with your friends, letting them do whatever they want before the concert starts. YOu are a Taylor fan, but not nearly as much as they are.

Once you all make your way to your seats you are on the end of your group of friends. The group of girls next to you is already sitting. You take a seat next to a girl in a light sage dress. You say a quick hello as you get yourself situated.

Part of your group decides to go grab drinks and snacks while you opt to stay and watch over everyone's stuff. You tell them to grab you a drink and whatever looks good.

You sit there looking around at all the girls wearing their Taylor themes outfits and getting to have the time of their lives. Meanwhile, you are just trying to survive the night.

"Hey, I dropped my chapstick, would you mind grabbing it?" The girl next to you says.

"Ya, no problem," you say and lean down and grab the little stick that made its way under your legs. You pass it to the girl next to you who you notice is now alone. "You're friends also head to get snacks?"

"Restroom," she says with a little laugh. "Yours go to get snacks?"

You nodd also letting out a little laugh. "Can't leave the stuff alone."

You introduce yourself as you are about to be screaming song lyrics right next to this girl all night.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Caitlin," she says.

The two of you enter into some small talk and learn you both attend the same school. It is big enough that it doesn't surprise you that you haven't seen each other before. What once started as small talk, turns into talking life. She tells you how there are some big decisions that she is going to have to make coming up - she keeps it pretty vague but mentions it has to do with her career. You mention your recent breakup and how you the guy cheated. Her hand comes to yours as she apologizes that you had to go through that. You give her a small smile and tell her it was for the better.

She sat there listening to the most beautiful girl in the world talk about how someone treated you like trash. All she wanted to do was hold you and show you what love really is. It seems cliche that she is having all these thoughts at concert with a girl she just met but they way you talked about life had her thinking anything is possible.

The conversation continues as you talk about growing up and how you both chose to go to Iowa for school. You learn she plays basketball and you tell her you dance. She slides the comment of how you should come to one of her games. Of course, you say yes, not thinking anything of it.

Both of your groups of friends get back around the same time and you both turn back to conversations with them.

When the concert starts you get mesmerized by the performance. Everyone is standing and singing along to all of the songs.

The first time you cry is when Taylor sings The Archer. You try to hide it to the best of your ability. Your friends are too into the concert to notice which you are thankful for but as your arms wrap around yourself to provide any sort of comfort, you feel a hand come up and give your arm a little squeeze. You look over to see Caitlin's hand on your arm, rubbing it with her thumb. The part of you that once felt so empty, is now a little fuller.

Neither of you say anything about the little moment. You both just continue to enjoy the concert.

It is during Cruel Summer that you are back screaming at the top of your lungs. When Taylor gets to the bridge you grab Caitlin's hand and use it as a microphone, pretending you are on stage. She just laughs at you and takes in the sight of you living your best life. At the end of the song you pull her in so you can say something.

"I would apologize but I am not sorry at all," you say with a laugh. She leans over to your ear.

"Please never even think about apologizing for that," is what she says with a little wink. You just look at her and shake your head with a smile.

The night continues with you singing with your friends, both the ones you came with and the new ones you met at the concert.

The next time you cry is during Tolerate It, your friend that you came with brings you into her side and just holds you. While she is holding you, you feel a hand come and take yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze while rubbing her thumb against your skin.

You don't know what it is about the girl but her comfort is one that you haven't felt in a while. It is peaceful, not forced. She brings a calmness to you and you haven't known her for more than 2 hours. Anyone else would be mortified with your sea of emotions - going from screaming at the top of your lungs to sobbing about your cheating ex-boyfriend but not her. She has embraced it all and continues to embrace it.

It is during You Belong With Me that you notice she is looking at you more than usual. You decide to sing it with her and turn to her during one of the verses. By the time the chorus comes around, she is singing it right to you. You sing along trying to not let the words of the song cut too deep.

She is the one to grab your hand during this song and belt out the words to the bridge. You just watch her in awe, seeing her let loose for what you feel like the first time this evening.

At the end of the song, you put your hand on her shoulder to help steady yourself as you reach up to whisper in her ear, "That was adorable, carefree looks good on you."

She leans back down to you, "You make it easy."

The rest of the night is filled with singing your heart out and making little comments here and there to the girl next to you.

One of Taylor's final songs is one that you have been waiting to hear all night, Enchanted. She does a beautiful acoustic version that has you whispering it along with her. You don't know when it happens but Caitlin takes hold of your arm and turns you to face her. Caitlin is now singing with you (to you). You can't take your eyes off of hers as her hand doesn't leave you. Caitlin, in nothing above a whisper, is singing the bridge of the song hoping that you know she is not just singing the song but means every word.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you." She sings looking right into your eyes.

Who in the world would have imagined this, a beautiful girl singing Taylor songs to you at a Taylor concert. Picking up the pieces of your heart all while only knowing you for less than a day.

When the song comes to an end, you don't know what overcomes you but you bring your hand up to her cheek and just stroke her cheek with your thumb. You then bend down and grab your bag, looking for something that you buried it in before the concert.

You find what you are looking for and give it one look before grabbing Caitlin's wrist and putting the bracelet on her. She gives you a slightly confused look, not understanding why you pulled the bracelet out of the bag and didn't take it off your wrist like you had with all the other girls around you.

You give a nod down for her to look at it and she does. When she sees the bracelet you gave her contains 10 digits on it, she instantly smiles.

The concert comes to an end and everyone begins clearing the stadium. You say goodbye to your new friends, making sure Caitlin is the last of them.

When saying bye, you bring her into a hug.

"I am not ready to jump into anything, but you are truly incredible and I would love to get to know you more. I only made one of those bracelets and wasn't planning on handing it out but you are something special." You say and begin to release her. She doesn't let go of you but rather squeezes you tighter.

"You are worth waiting for," she says, and your heart rate increases. "I will take it as slow as you need.'"

She releases you and you just smile at her.

This night marks a new beginning, one that you can't want to dive into.

AN: Yes, there will eventually be a part two. No, I do not know when. But I promise it will come. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark imagine #iowa hawkeyes #22 #iowa wbb #caitlin clark masterlist #cc #taylor swift

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norrizzandpia · 4 hours

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Hi :))

How about angry love confession in the rain with Lando and then a kiss in the rain??!

Olive (LN4)

Summary: After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.

Warnings: THIS IS VERY TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES, depictions of a miscarriage, language, massive angst, HAPPY ENDING

Note: it is not a very angry love confession im sorry :( but i kind of took creative freedom here! I hope you like it! I also lied THIS IS NOT A TWO PART JUST ONE because it ends positively

I could be a good mother and I want to be your wife. - Not a lot, just forever by Adrianne Lenker

There wasn’t necessarily a moment Y/n could pinpoint as the ending of the love her and Lando had. There were fights they had that could’ve hinted at their falling out, but it seemed as though one day, she woke up and the house they lived in together was just one of ghosts and pain.

The walls that were once filled with laughter and happiness now creaked with silence. This was almost worse than a complete break up. This was hell on Earth. This was living with the man she loved more than anything and knowing he no longer loved her in the way she did, lying to himself to try and salvage something that wasn’t there.

It was almost as if they hated the fact that, at some point, they loved each other. Lando couldn’t dare to look at her, worried if he did then he would realize how much he used to feel for her, and Y/n never spoke unless needed, not wanting to alert him of her presence and see him tense in the way he did.

It was tragic and it was sorrowful and it wasn’t love.

THREE YEARS EARLIER

Y/n set the last box down, staring at the empty room and smiling. His arms surprised her as they winded their way around her waist.

He nuzzled into her neck and kissed softly at the skin, “What a beautiful home for my beautiful girl.”

She blushed, “Lan, it’s your home too. It’s ours.”

She yelped as he twirled her around in his arms, face coming into view and oh so close. He nipped at her nose, giggles ensuing from the two, “Say that again.”

Her arms crossed over his neck, “It’s our home.”

Lando sighed and let his eyes fall to the space behind her, “Three years it took us to move in together.”

She tutted, “Three years it took you to convince me to move to Monaco.”

His dimples gave way and her heart warmed. The deep divots on his skin always peeked out when he was talking to her, she thought of them as a physical sign of his adoration.

She traced over them and Lando stared down at her, Y/n unknowing, as his body drowned in the love he had for her. He wouldn’t want to move in with anyone else. When he pictured his life, it was her standing in this room with him.

Their bedroom.

“How long do you think until a little you and me runs around here?” He whispered, grabbing her attention once more.

Y/n’s eyes lightly fluttered down to her stomach, “Not long I hope.”

A mischievous grin deepened his dimples and she knew what he was going to say before the words even fell from his mouth.

”Want to try now?”

No bed in the room, he dragged her down to the kitchen and set her upon the counter. Their first memory in their house together.

PRESENT

”Excuse me,” She whispered, a slight roughness to her voice only a lack of sleep could explain.

Lando didn’t move.

She huffed, “Lando,”

His head turned and his eyes latched onto the wall behind her, “What?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, “Please move.”

His head gave two glances to the left and right before he shrugged, “It’s a small bathroom, Y/n. I can’t move.”

”You’re standing in the middle of the walkway, Lando. I can’t get through to get ready for bed.” She gave, eyes rolling when he wouldn’t budge.

Lando snapped, “Jesus, Y/n, why don’t you just take your shit down the hall to the other bathroom. Get ready there. Problem solve, please.”

Her eyes turned cold and when he finally met them, he couldn’t recognize the woman he once loved.

“Fuck you. You of all people should know why I won’t step foot in there. You won’t. Why should I?” She said, pushing past him forcefully to get where she needed to be.

He grunted, “Don’t fucking push me. What are we? Five?”

She chuckled, “That’s rich coming from you.”

Lando’s eyes rolled, “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna fucking throw that at me?”

She put her toothpaste against the bristles of the brush and gave him a quick look before going silent and letting the cool mint taste shut her up.

He grumbled, “Fucking silent treatment. Classic.”

Lando slammed the door shut, random mutters of annoyance under his breath as he walked away.

Y/n stared at the white paint as it chipped away, having been slammed many times before. And only when she turned back to stare at her reflection did she notice the tears down her cheeks.

She could leave, there was nothing stopping her, but what she didn’t want to admit was the love still there that she couldn’t let go of.

THREE YEARS EARLIER

”You don’t think it’s weird we’re trying for a baby when we aren’t even engaged yet, right?” Y/n asked as she sat at the counter, the morning breeze coming in through the main bay window and keeping small strands of her hair out of her face.

Lando’s back was to her as he hesitated, “No, I don’t think so. Lots of couples do it.”

Her eyebrows knitted together, “Are you sure? I feel like they’re all at least engaged.”

A plate of pancakes was clutched in his grip when he turned around, a small smile on his face as he looked at her. He set the food down and pushed her hair off her shoulder, “We aren’t other couples, baby. We can do things on our own terms.”

She nodded, “Maybe, but…” She trailed off.

His mouth was filled as he murmured, “But what?”

She poked her food around with her fork when she whispered, “But what if I want to get married?”

Lando stopped eating, practically stopped breathing altogether. He took a few seconds before resuming his prior movements as if nothing happened, “We can talk about it.”

His lack of enthusiasm made her retract into herself. He wanted a baby, but he didn’t want marriage seemingly.

Why?

PRESENT

”So, how are you? I haven’t seen you since before it happened, Y/n.” Her best friend, Carter, asked.

Y/n blinked at the girl across from her, willing away tears, “I’m doing better.”

Carter stared at her skeptically, “What about Lando? How’s he holding up?”

Her mouth moved down a bit and Carter knew. What the couple had been through was hard enough and her worst fear was for her best friend to lose the man she loved to it. They were young, too young, and what could’ve made them stronger only destroyed them.

Carter’s hand reached across the table and clutched Y/n’s when her mouth began to move in a response, but failed.

She took a deep breath, “I’m not sure. We aren’t really talking right now. It’s been hard on us.”

Carter nodded, “Of course, it has. Of course.”

Y/n looked around the coffee shop and smiled at the times her and Lando used to make trips in the early morning just to get the hot liquid. She met Carter’s gaze, “I’m hoping we can somehow make it through.”

The implication of that sentence was shattered, Carter’s eyebrows raised, “You don’t think you can?”

Y/n picked at her nails, “We just had massive problems before it happened and then… Well, it happened, and it was so much to work through. We just crumbled under the sheer amount of shit to talk through. It sounds stupid, I know, for how in love we were. But, by the time we got through the grieving, the problems had been so long suppressed, we just hated each other.”

Carter dipped her head down to catch Y/‘s eyes, “But, what if that was just the grieving. What if you never hated each other and you were both just trying to get through your own sadness. What if you aren’t even done grieving.”

Y/n shook her head, “We’re so far gone, Car. I don’t ever see him even giving me the light of day to talk through it.”

”Lando loves you, Y/n. He always has and he always will. He’s just in pain.” Carter tried, but Y/n snapped.

”So am I.”

A silence passed between them before Y/n dropped her head, muttering an apology for her tone. Carter just shook her head and reassured her friend. Though, in the back of her mind, she noted the way Y/n was behaving. The girl wasn’t the same and with all the loss she was experiencing, Carter couldn’t blame her.

TWO YEARS PRIOR

”LANDO!” Y/n screeched from the top of the stairs, running down them so fast she was worried of tripping.

Lando came running to her, concern evident on his face. When they met in the downstairs hallway and she seemed untouched, he cocked his head.

”What’s going on, baby?” He pulled her into his arms, checking the top of her head for any injuries.

”Lan,” She started, but his eyes were already on the object grasped in her palm.

He had felt it poking against his stomach when he leaned forward to look at her scalp and the infamous color of pink at the tip told him what news she was about to give.

His face lifted, “No,”

She nodded with a smile, “I’M PREGNANT!”

He screamed, a girlish one she giggled at, and picked her up, twirling her around. When he set her down, they jumped around together, laughing and yelping out in happiness.

”BABY! THERE’S A BABY!” He yelled before grabbing her face and kissing her sweetly. He poured his love for her into it, wanting her to know how happy he was to share this with her. He wanted to reassure her that he’d be there every step of the way, that he’d love her every step of the way. The softness of his hands on her body and his plump lips enveloping hers told her what he wanted them to.

When they pulled back, his eyes sparkled and he put his hand over her stomach.

Glistening in his eyes, he stared upon the woman that was the rest of his life and rubbed gently over her shirt, “We’re having a kid together.”

She nodded, “We are, Lan.”

His face nuzzled in her hair when he hugged her and whispered, “I’ve never wanted anything more. I love you so much, Y/n.”

PRESENT

”Your love is conditional, Lando. It always has been and it always will be.” Y/n yelled, anger radiating off her as she stared at him.

Lando’s hands clutched his hair, “You’ve never loved me for who I was, Y/n!”

She went quiet, heavily taken aback by his statement. When she came into this conversation, her only goal was to try and address the problems they’d had before everything they went through. She wanted Carter to be right. For their distance to be just grief and pain, for them to have a fighting chance. But, he only met her with hostility and defensiveness. It was bound to escalate, but not to this. Not to what he just accused her of.

Tears found their way down her cheeks, “Lando, I have loved you since the moment we met. I have loved you for you, not your money or your status. I have loved every part of you with truth and honesty. I have not put six years of my life into you based on a superficial love. You were my everything, Lan.” She got quiet, “I’ve defended you even when you were wrong, celebrated you even when you failed, cheered you on when you didn’t believe in yourself, pulled you back up when you’d fallen down. I have given my life to you. Don’t you dare look at me and tell me I never loved you for who you were. That was all I ever did. You wanted me to move to Monaco, albeit with some hesitance, I did. You wanted me to quit my job so I could come to every race, I was there. You didn’t want to get married, but I did, so we didn’t. You wanted a baby, I did too, and I gave that to you. I’m sorry if my failure in growing her has made you think I don’t love you for you, but some things I just can’t fucking control.”

By the end of her words, she was choking it all out, sobs emitting from her and pain the only thing she could communicate. Her last few sentences were said with screams, right in his face to try and make him hear her.

Hear her, he did, but he produced no response as he stared at her blankly.

Even as she pleaded for him, he couldn’t deliver.

“Fuck you, Lando.” She yelled before walking upstairs and slamming the bedroom door shut.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

”I love you, Lan.” Y/n whispered, his hand clutched in hers as they sat in the examination room.

He smiled at her, his dimples not appearing, “I love you too, Y/n.”

They stared at each other, stress and fear etched into the lines of their faces when the doctor walked in.

The somber look on his face made Y/n sit up, “No,”

He sat down, “Unfortunately, the baby didn’t make it. I am so very sorry for your loss. There was a problem with the-”

”What?” Lando whispered, his grip on Y/n’s hand loosening.

She looked at him as his finger slipped from hers, but he refused to look at her.

“No.” He said, adamant his worst nightmare wasn’t coming true. He stood from his chair, tears in his eyes, before storming out.

The first door slam of many.

Y/n laid still on the table, a hand over her bump and tears down her face, completely abandoned by the man who was supposed to be in this with her.

“I’m sorry about him,” She took a breath, “We really wanted to meet her.”

The doctor smiled softly, “Do you mind if I ask what you were going to name her? Sometimes, in situations like these, I find it’s best to refer to the child by their name rather than something else.”

She shook her head, “I don’t mind.” Her eyes drifted to the door, wishing for Lando to come back so they could utter the name of their daughter together, but he didn’t show.

Tears streamed from her face when she whispered, “Olive.”

The doctor smiled, “What a lovely name.”

The air of the room shifted when the man set down his clipboard, rolling his chair closer and rubbing his forehead.

”Now, we have to discuss the options of stillbirth.”

She was expected to be strong, to talk about what she was most comfortable with when birthing a daughter she would never get to see prosper.

Maybe she could’ve been strong had Lando been by her side like he promised. But he was nowhere to be found.

And that made her hate him.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

The couple stared at the assembly of rocks shoved in the dirt of their backyard, a formation of a heart staring back at them. The memorial of their daughter was the last thing they had which tied themselves to her. Lando stood feet away from Y/n, not having touched her in the week after the news and the birth.

He had been there with her, but mentally, she knew he was somewhere else. Part of her understood, she would’ve mentally placed herself some place else had she not been having to focus on pushing, but she also loathed him for not stepping up and being with her like he had promised.

Part of her didn’t want him to touch her, but the other part wished for him to show any kind of sign of attraction toward her. She felt unwanted and worthless in the eyes of the man that once made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The destruction of them laid before them, staring at them so innocently.

Her daughter. Their daughter. The little her and him that was supposed to be drawing on the walls and dropping food on the floor stared back at them in the form of rocks and dirt.

She reached for his hand, it wet from the tears she had been wiping away, but he just jerked his body away and retreated back into the house.

Maybe that was the moment where they genuinely died.

PRESENT

The one year anniversary of Olive and her memory only brought Y/n the same amount of pain it did a year ago. She had anticipated that. This was her daughter. A whole in her heart would always be there in the shape of Olive.

It didn’t matter that it was raining or how cold the day was, Y/n was going to push herself to step outside and visit the rocks her and Lando had planted there all those months ago in an effort to reconcile the pain that harbored within their bodies.

She found the dirt patch and sat in front of it, mud soaking her jeans and water soaking her hair. She felt alive in the midst of the rain, the most she had since it happened, and she laughed.

“Funny how you killed me, but you make me feel alive today.” She whispered, staring at the heart intensely.

She breathed, “I hope you don’t think I hate you. For a moment there, I thought I did. I hate to say it out loud, but I really thought I did. I thought I hated you because I blamed Lando and I’s problems on you. I blamed my pain on you. You brought so much happiness into this home, but you brought so much pain and even after a year, I still don’t know how to deal with it. But, I know now that that was just the grief talking. I never hated you, I just loved you so much and losing you was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. Living without you, even though I never knew you, has been the greatest challenge of my life. Your father, I hope he’s found some sort of peace in all of this. No matter how much he’s hurt me, not shown up, he deserves so much. I hate that you never got to meet him, know him, be loved by him. It’s an experience, I’ll tell you that. It’s chaos and it’s sometimes anger or sadness, but it’s love and it’s deep love. When you’re loved by your father, and you were, it’s beautiful. If there’s anything I could wish for, it would be for you to be here and be able to describe to someone, like I can, how amazing it feels to be loved the way your Dad loves.”

”Really?” Lando whispered from behind her, his broken voice striking a part of her she forgot was there.

She turned around, looking up at him and smiling softly, “Yeah,”

Lando sat down next to her, the two leaning into each other in the coldness of the rain. Their shoulders touched and it brought electricity throughout Y/n’s body, the first time their bodies had met in a while. Whether it was because he was cold or he craved her like she did, Y/n didn’t know.

“I hate that she never got to experience what it was like to be loved by you.” He murmured from beside her, staring at the rocks like she was.

Y/n softened, “What happened to us, Lan?”

He sighed, “Y/n, you were never a failure because Olive died before we could meet her. I never thought you failed.”

She was getting sick of crying, “But, you left me, Lan. You left me on that table, you left me in this house, you left me by myself, you left me with the memory of her. You left me alone when I needed you most. You never touched me, never looked at me. I know we could’ve been something with her. We would’ve been great parents. That hurts the most. There was so much potential for immense happiness, but it was just taken so fast. I could be a good mother, Lan, and I want to be your wife, but you didn’t show up for me.”

The sound of her sobs broke his heart and he finally let his body succumb to its desires to feel her warmth against his. He lightly let his hand fall over hers, checking to make sure his touch was wanted. When she didn’t fight back, he let their fingers tangle together.

”I knew you would be a good mother. I know you will be. That was never it. I was ashamed of myself. I had felt like I had forced this child on you and now it was like I was forcing you to go through the pain of losing a daughter because of it. I hated looking at you, touching you because it hurt to let my mind wander to its idea that I was the reason you were crying every night and a shell of who you once were. I wanted to fight my love for you because it just made me so angry. I felt like I had ruined the life we were so excited to lead. I had destroyed our hope and destroyed the wants we had for this house. I just couldn’t come to terms with it all without blaming myself and I pushed you away in the process. I hate myself for that, Y/n.” He stated with force. She could tell he was determined to right his wrongs.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, “But, what about not wanting to get married? How come I wasn’t enough to want to marry?”

He shook his head, “That was never it. You were always enough. I just didn’t want you to be permanently tied to me unless you wanted to leave me. I’m always gone and traveling. I’m not a stable boyfriend and you deserve one. I can’t give that to you. I didn’t want you to be officially associated with me in case you woke up one day and decided to find something better.”

Y/n turned to look at him, their teary eyes meeting each other without malice for the first time in a long time, “How come you would think I would ever want to leave you? Plus, a baby? Lan, that would’ve tied me to you forever.”

He nodded, “But, not officially. We could coparent and you could walk whenever you chose. If you walked out, you wouldn’t be faced with mounds of paperwork and custody battles over a kid we both grew. I wanted you to have the option.”

”But I never wanted the option. I still don’t want the option.” She said, her voice firm and knowing.

Lando’s eyes lit up, “You still want to be with me? Even after everything I put you through?”

Y/n’s eyes erupted in fury, “Lando! I love you! I always have and I always will! I wanted Olive with you and I wanted a life with you! Stop, I’m begging you, stop sabotaging us with your fears!”

He smiled at her, his dimples appearing and making her heart soar, and she just huffed, “What?”

He chuckled softly, “I just never expected to be happy you were getting mad at me.”

At his confession, Y/n’s stern demeanor lessened and she caught a glimpse of the man he used to be. Maybe they just needed each other to find who they once were.

Her hand in his, he whispered once more, “I’m sorry for accusing you of not loving me for who I am. That was completely untrue. I’ve never felt as loved by anyone than by you and I’m sorry for suggesting you use Olive’s bathroom to get ready for bed. I knew it was wrong the moment I said it. I’ve fucked up so many times, Y/n. I’ve hurt you so much and I’ve failed you so much. I’m so sorry. I love you so much and I can’t believe I fell short when it was tested. I’ll never let it happen again. Let me show you.”

She nodded, her head falling into the crook of his neck as his arms found her waist, “I’ll let you show me. We’ll be okay and we’ll get through it. I know it now. We’ll overcome this. We have each other, that’s all that matters.”

He pulled back for a moment to kiss her, find her lips when he hadn’t for so long. When they met, the cold water dripping around them, their love was cemented once more. There were still things to talk through, work through, but they stopped deciding to try and do it alone. They had each other, they depended on each other. That was okay.

He slumped back when they separated, in a moment of pure bliss, and her body fell further into him. Completely cradled by him, Lando stared at the small note that Olive’s name was written on, having been put there by Y/n the year prior.

They missed her, they always would, but in front of her memorial, they found each other again. In front of her remembrance, Lando and Y/n were reminded of how much they used to love each other. They allowed their walls to fall and returned to each other in front of their daughter. In a solid and warm embrace, they knew a future together was not over or out of reach.

In fact, it was just beginning.

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timetothirst · 9 hours

Text

His big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated me (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader)

Summary: you see Ghost's big beautiful calf eyes and you HAVE to say something. also he calls u love because he’s British and it’s cute IDC

inspired by something @suimon said because of course it is

The warmth of the cafe was a welcome reprieve from the biting winter cold outside, and you dusted the snow off of your clothes and hair as you made your way to the counter, not bothering to take off your scarf or light jacket.

You exchanged a polite greeting with the cashier and ordered your favorite hot drink, along with a pastry that caught your eye. Might as well, right? After you had missed your bus home, you deserved a little treat for having to walk in the cold instead!

The wait was blessedly short despite how crowded the small building was, and you grabbed your drink and snack with a quiet 'thank you' before looking around and searching for a seat. A lot of people had the same idea as you, it seemed, because every table and chair in the place seemed to be occupied. It was nowhere near nice enough for anyone to want to go outside to enjoy their food and drinks, so the small cafe was packed.

Well, almost packed.

There was one place left to sit; on a plush chair near a coffee table. A prime spot, if not for the man who was in the chair directly across from it. He was dressed all in black, with nearly every square inch of his skin covered. He was wearing a balaclava, with the bottom rolled up just enough to expose his lips and allow him to take sips of his tea. Not too unusual considering the weather, but still a little off-putting. No one had wanted to occupy the seat closest to him. You could guess why. He was massive, with biceps that were probably bigger than your head, and he didn't exactly seem the most approachable. Still, this was a public place. If he didn't want anyone to sit by him, he should have taken his tea home.

You cleared your throat as you stood in front of him, and he looked up.

"Mind if I sit?" You asked with a slightly anxious smile. The man grunted and shrugged his shoulders before replying.

"Nah, s'fine." He said, his accented voice rough. He gestured for you to approach, and you did, setting your drink and snack on the coffee table before settling in.

"Thanks, I didn't want to go back out in all of that just yet. My hands were starting to get numb…" You chuckled awkwardly, and the man hummed, taking in the sight of your snow-covered boots and rosy cheeks, but he didn't say anything else.

You saw that as your cue to stop talking, and you took a big bite of your pastry.

But then you noticed his eyes. They were...gorgeous, for lack of a better word. Observant and soulful, a warm brown color that looked like honey when the light hit his face. You inhaled quietly, your own eyes widening as you took in the sight. You absolutely had to say something. He wouldn’t get mad if you complimented him, right? He couldn’t just walk around looking so stunning and not expect anyone to mention it!

—————

You weren’t the worst person to be stuck sitting by, he supposed. Not one of those fuckers that wouldn’t stop trying to start a conversation with him despite his one-word responses and clear disinterest. The worst thing in the world for Simon was getting stuck near someone chatty, and you were blissfully quiet, which was all he could have asked for, really.

Not to mention, you were pretty easy on the eyes. A hot tea and a good view was just what he needed to get him through the rest of the day.

He could tell you were thinking about something as you ate your pastry, your eyes trained on the floor and your foot tapping rhythmically the entire time you enjoyed the snack. You were probably just anxious though. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable person, he’d be the first to admit it, but he really did hope he wasn’t making you too uncomfortable. He didn’t particularly enjoy scaring people- provided those people weren’t out to kill him or his friends, anyway.

“Hey, I…um. C-Can I just- say something real quick?” You asked. Your cheeks were still red, but it definitely wasn’t from the cold now.

Despite himself, Simon laughed. Or, well- he snorted really quietly and exhaled out of his nose. His lips twitched upward, and he glanced over at you.

“Don’t need my permission, love, but sure. Go on.”

“Right. Sorry, it’s just-“ You got even more fidgety, and you couldn’t seem to look directly at him while you spoke. It was like he was the sun, and you were trying not to blind yourself.

“I wanted to tell you…your eyes are beautiful.” You finally looked at him then, and your expression was so open and sincere that he knew you meant every word you’d just said.

Simon couldn’t help but be a bit shocked. His physical features had been commented on before, sure, but not like this. You didn’t seem like you were trying to get into his pants- hell, you didn’t even seem to be flirting with him. It was like you simply had to let him know.

“…What.” He said before he had time to formulate a proper response.

Damn it, Simon.

“Your eyes. They’re just really nice, and- i’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said-“

“No, no! It’s…”

More than okay? Incredibly flattering? The nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me? Making me want to kiss you on the mouth?

“…Fine.”

Damn it, Simon!

Despite his lackluster response, you looked relieved, a smile gracing your features.

“Oh, good…I was worried i’d made you uncomfortable, or…” Simon shook his head, immediately shutting down that train of thought as soon as it started.

“Not at all, love. You just…caught me off guard for a second. Can’t say anyone’s ever called any part of me ‘beautiful,’ much less my eyes.” He said, trying to ease your nerves. To his amusement, you looked scandalized, as if it was a travesty that you had been the first.

“No one? Really?”

“Really. S’ppose you’ll have to make up for it by tellin’ me again how pretty I am, eh?” He tested the waters by nudging you lightly, and you laughed.

God, he’d do anything to hear that laugh again.

“Humble in spite of your beauty, I see.” You teased back. Your demeanor became more relaxed then, and you leaned back in your chair a bit.

“Of course. Can't let myself get a big head, can I?"

Simon really liked you. You were a sweet little thing, polite, too- and he started to lose track of time as the two of you spoke. You were really listening to him, enjoying the conversation and not just waiting for your turn to talk, and he found himself talking a lot more than normal as a result. It was then that he noticed you glancing out the window, noticing how dark it was getting outside.

"...Shit. I didn't mean to stay for this long, I-I gotta get home." You muttered, clearly more than a little hesitant.

"I'll walk you." Simon offered right away. He couldn't help but feel protective, not wanting anything to happen to you during your walk home. He knew no one would dare to fuck with you if he was around, and he told you as much.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to go out of your way, or-"

"No, no...it'd be no trouble at all. S' the least I can do for keeping you all this time. You'd probably be back by now if it weren't for me." He insisted, standing up and gesturing for you to do the same. He had made up his mind, and he knew you realized that as well, an affectionate chuckle escaping your lips.

"Well...true, but it was worth it. And it's not like I didn't enjoy talking to you. I'd love it if you walked me home."

He had to fight the urge to pump his fist in victory. Instead, he guided you to the door and held it open for you.

"Cold?" He asked, watching you shiver as the winter air hit your skin.

"Y-Yeah...I didn't think I'd have to spend so long outside today, but I missed the bus and I had to walk home..."

Without a word, Simon unzipped his coat and draped it over your shoulders, the warmth immediately transferring to you as you looked up at him with an adorably confused expression on your face. He gave you a look that said 'don't you dare try and give that back to me,' which you seemed to understand.

You smiled up at him and put your arms through the holes, quickly zipping it up and crossing your arms as you walked. You thanked him, and he was grateful for the balaclava covering his face, because he was definitely going red right about now.

The walk to your building was much too short for his liking, and it seemed you shared that sentiment based on the way you frowned as you stared at the door.

"Well, um...thanks for letting me use your jacket, but-" You went to unzip it, but he placed his hand over yours before you could.

"Hold onto it for a while, yeah? You can return it next time we see each other." He said with a wink. Your eyes lit up and you giggled. He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Damn, that was smooth. Good on you, Si.

"When should we..?" You began.

"Don't worry about the details right now, love. You can next me later an' we'll work it all out."

"I don't have your number..."

"Sure you do. check the jacket pockets."

You did so, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise when you pulled out a scrap of paper with his name and number already written down. While you were staring at it with disbelief, Simon took that as his cue to slip away.

#call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #fluff #i feel like we don’t acknowledge the fact that he’s a cocky bastard #mister Simon ‘quite the opposite’ ‘impeccable bronze’ Riley #he’s such a goober #kissing him on the mouth 1000 times

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wholoveseggs · 2 days

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Hey lovely, your latest story gave me an idea. How about Reader and Elijah have been together for a while, but he is the one to avoid sex. Every time he has been with a human, it overpowered them or hurt them. He can't keep Red Door Elijah in check, which is fine when he's with a supernatural being, but not when he's with a human. Reader knows his backstory but is determined to show him that their love is different.

Control

{I've officially run out of gifs I want to use, so I'm in my moodboard era now}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23, love love love red door elijah and his dark side ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, lots of angst, red door Elijah, trauma, nightmares, visions of death, blood, blood drinking, rough sex, aggressive flirting, dom!elijah, jealously, masquerade ball, elevator vandalism...

Elijah needed control the way a drowning man needed air. It was as if it was a basic function, like oxygen, like blood. He had always been that way, even before he was turned, but it got worse when he was forced to take lives for food and to stay alive. His nature demanded he take what he wanted, when he wanted, but he was afraid of that, so he clung to rules, to discipline.

But no matter what he did, he was still plagued with the same nightmare. You, his perfect love, dead in his arms. Your body limp and lifeless, your eyes open but vacant. And all because he couldn't control himself. Your blood stained his skin, his clothes, his heart.

You knew better than to sneak up on a sleeping vampire, but it wasn't just any vampire. It was your Elijah, your sweet, loving, gentle Elijah.

All you wanted to do was surprise him with some coffee. It was going to be a long day, there was a huge party being hosted by Marcel. All of the factions were gathering for a masquerade ball, the first of its kind in centuries. There were rumors of a peace treaty in the works, and the festivities were the opening salvo.

You were beyond excited, you never experienced this sort of thing, and you were so happy that Elijah would be by your side. You picked out a matching set of masks for the two of you. For him, a sleek, black one with dark feathers at the tips. For yourself, a delicate, lace one in a deep crimson.

When you were younger, you had dreams of wearing beautiful, elaborate gowns, and dancing the night away with a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel giddy thinking about tonight.

You set the coffees down on a nearby table. Elijah's room was dim, only a small shaft of light peeking out from behind the curtains. He was curled up in the center of his large bed, his hair was disheveled and his lips were parted. The sheet was pooled around his hips, revealing his chiseled chest and toned arms.

He was beautiful, and you very much wanted to explore every bit of him. But he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow himself to lose control. He had told you about his darkness, the red door, the place where he put all of the sins he couldn't live with.

When his control was frayed and his mind was weak, it would whisper to him, tempt him. Because there, in that space, he didn't have to feel guilt or pain. He was free. Free to do as he wished. He would be able to take you, claim you, love you the way his darker instincts screamed at him to.

You pulled off your sweater and boots, leaving you in just a mini dress and socks. You padded over to the bed and carefully slid under the covers, trying not to disturb him. You cuddled up next to him, your hand resting on his chest. You wished he would let you in, let you experience all of him, the good, the bad, the ugly. You loved him, and that meant loving everything about him.

Elijah had sensed your presence from the moment you entered his room, but he remained still, feigning sleep. His sweet little love, so utterly defenseless and vulnerable, alone in a vampire's bed. His fingers itched to touch you, to pull you into his embrace and never let you go. He could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, could smell the sweet perfume you had dabbed behind your ears, and could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He was acutely aware of every aspect of you. It was hard not to give in to temptation, to pull you into his arms and kiss you until your lips were swollen and pink.

"Elijah," you said softly, in a sing-song voice. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, the stubble rough against your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pretending to wake.

"Hmm, good morning, love." He rasped, his voice heavy with sleep.

You kissed him softly, smiling into it. "Good morning. I brought us coffee."

He hummed, "That's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart."

"I can't wait for tonight." You sighed, tracing your fingers down his throat and along his collar bones.

Elijah was torn between letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact or watching your movements. You had him entranced.

"I can't either," he agreed. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there, I have no doubt."

You blushed at his compliment and kissed him again, your lips lingering against his. He groaned and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He let himself give in just a little, let the control slip a fraction. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue swept along the seam of your lips. Your lips parted, allowing him entry. You melted against him, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

His hands slid down your body, mapping every dip and curve, memorizing the feel of you. Your skin was like silk, your body supple and soft. You had a slight tremor, nervous, or maybe excited. He wasn't sure, but he loved how your breath hitched as he moved his hands lower and lower, until his palms were flat on your backside, his fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him.

You hummed, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He drank it in, taking all of your little sounds and storing them in his memory. He rolled, pulling you with him so that you were under him. You moaned as he settled between your thighs, his weight a welcome comfort. He moved his mouth down, nipping at the skin of your throat and collarbone, careful not to let his fangs break the surface.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. You had fantasized about being with him in this way for so long, dreamed about how his body would feel pressed against yours, how his hands would feel on your bare skin. You didn't know what caused this shift in him, this sudden willingness to be intimate, but you were glad for it.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, trying to tell him what you wanted. You were not a shy person, you wanted to experience what it was like to be with such a powerful creature, to feel his strength and passion.

Elijah groaned and rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he desired you. His control was slipping, and he didn't care. You wanted him, and he would have you. He leaned back to look at your beautiful face, wanting to etch this moment in his memory for all eternity. You were a vision, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want.

Suddenly everything started to warp, your flushed skin turned cold, your warm eyes grew distant, and your heart slowed to a stop. His breath caught as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth. He looked down at his hands and they were covered in your blood, the dark, rich liquid soaking the sheets and staining his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no." He chanted, trying to bring you back, willing the darkness to recede.

Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, bite marks all over your neck, your chest, your legs. You were covered in them, the evidence of his weakness, his inability to keep his desires in check.

Elijah threw himself from the bed, stumbling backwards. He clutched his head in his hands, a scream ripping from his throat. You were gone, dead, and it was his fault. He would never be able to look at your smiling face, never hear your soft laugh, or feel your lips on his again.

"Eli?" you said, stunned by his sudden departure. He was now across the room looking like a caged animal, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. You climbed out of the bed and slowly approached him. He looked like he was going to bolt, his muscles tense and his breath ragged.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" he shouted, flinching away from your touch. "Don't touch me."

"Okay," you said, holding up your hands. "I won't."

He felt like he was losing his grip, the world was shifting around him, the ground threatening to give out beneath his feet. He felt like he was back there, back in that slaughterhouse that haunted him, the place that whispered his darkest desires, the place that taunted him with visions of what he truly was, no matter how much control he thought he had over it.

You reached out to him again, and he snapped. He grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall, his eyes black and his fangs sharp. You gasped, but didn't struggle, trusting that he would never hurt you.

He released you at once, horrified by what he had done. He backed away, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He sank to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic.

"It's okay, Eli." You said, kneeling in front of him.

"You need to leave, please." He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You said firmly, reaching out to touch him again. He tensed, his breath hitching as you made contact.

"LEAVE," he roared, his eyes flashing. You jerked your hand back, surprised by his outburst.

Elijah regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he watched you run out of the room and all he wanted was to chase after you, but his pride and fear kept him rooted in place. He couldn't let you be around him, look at what he did? If he couldn't control himself in a moment of passion, what would happen if he really let go?

Elijah stood in front of his mirror, adjusting and readjusting his tie. His hair was combed and his suit was tailored perfectly. But none of it felt right, the buttons on his shirt were too tight, the cufflinks too heavy, the material of his suit too coarse. He needed it all to go away.

He felt like a monster. A monster wearing a man's skin.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could get through this night. He didn't know if you were coming to the party, and he couldn't decide if he wanted you there or not. He hated the idea of you being away from him, but he also couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him like this, a man unraveling, barely keeping himself together.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to smile, but the sight was a mockery. His lips were pulled taut, and his teeth looked like daggers. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear down the entire city and start anew.

"Elijah! we are going to be late!" He heard Rebekah yell from the courtyard below.

"Be right there," he called, his voice hoarse. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He could see his siblings all gathered, dressed impeccably with their dates on their arms.

Klaus was talking with Camille, they were dressed in matching shades of blue. Freya and Keelin were standing close together, their hands entwined. Kol was whispering something in Davina's ear, making her laugh. Rebekah was on the phone with Marcel, telling him she was on her way. And Hayley was chatting with Jackson, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"There you are." Freya said, noticing his presence. "Where is y/n? She was so excited about tonight."

The sound of your name made his chest ache, he was about to explain, or rather, come up with a plausible excuse when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I'm right here."

He turned around to see you walking down the stairs, dressed in an ornate black gown, matching his suit, your mask hanging in your hand.

"Y/n," he said, stunned by how beautiful you were.

You smiled slightly and approached him, your heels clicking on the stones. He took your hand, inspecting your arm. It was bruised and there were small scratches from where he had dug his nails into your skin. He brushed his fingers over the marks, regret and guilt filling him.

"It's fine," you said, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's not."

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the feeling of your lips on his caused him to relax a little. He kissed you back, the contact grounding him, reminding him why he needed to stay in control, for you.

"Let's go," Klaus said, gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door.

You took your mask and placed it on, the crimson filigree complimenting the dark silk of your gown. Elijah put on his mask, the bold design making his dark eyes stand out.

The group arrived at Marcel's penthouse, finding the place already crowded. People were drinking, dancing, and mingling. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with music and laughter.

"It's nice," you commented, holding Elijah's hand.

"It is," he agreed, looking around the room. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the dance floor and you nodded, taking his offered arm. He led you to the center of the room, where couples were already twirling and spinning.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"You may," you answered, giving him a shy smile.

He took your hand and placed his other on your hip, guiding you through the steps. The two of you swayed to the music, moving gracefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him.

He wanted to argue, but you didn't give him a chance. You captured his lips in a kiss, the world around you melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The two of you stayed locked in the embrace, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

The two of you danced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. The environment letting him relax a little. But when the music changed, becoming slow and sultry, his mind started to drift.

Elijah imagined pushing you against a wall, kissing your neck and leaving marks. He wanted to rip your dress off, and explore every inch of you. He wanted to bite you, to taste your blood. He wanted to claim you, to make you his.

He wanted to let go, to allow himself to give in. To experience the kind of pleasure and power that only came with a lack of control. But then he saw the blood again, the crimson of your mask, the ruby red of your lipstick, turned to the viscous liquid that both haunted and nourished him.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing the way his body tensed.

"Nothing," he said, his voice strained. "I just need a drink,"

He let go of you and headed to the bar, needing some strong alcohol to help calm his nerves. He ordered a scotch and downed it in one go, the liquid burning his throat. He ordered another, and another, until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and his thoughts were quiet.

"Mr. Mikaelson, so good to see you," a woman said, coming up to him.

"Madam," he replied, not looking up from his drink.

"How is business?" she asked, clearly wanting to engage in a conversation.

"Fine." He said shortly, hoping she would get the hint.

"The party is wonderful," she commented, sipping from a champagne flute, her mask was turquoise and silver, a few strands of her dark hair escaping her updo.

"Thank you, the decorations were my sister's doing," he replied, trying to be polite.

"Ah yes, your sister," the woman said, her eyes drifting over the crowd, landing on the blonde vampire. "She's almost as pretty as you," the woman added, a seductive smile on her lips.

"You're quite flattering, but I'm spoken for," Elijah told her, not unkindly.

The woman pouted. "So I heard, a human though? That must be...difficult," she said.

"How so?" He asked, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

"Humans are frail, their lives are fleeting," the woman replied, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He looked down at her hand touching him, her daylight ring a large sapphire. "And they are so easily broken," she added.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to let her words get to him. "That is why they are treasured," he replied, scanning the crowd in search for you.

"They are food. I thought an original vampire would know the difference," the woman grinned, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

"Watch your tongue, Madam, or you might find it missing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, feisty," the woman purred, her free hand went up and she ran her finger over the edge of his mask. "You could have any creature here, take them however you want. Break them in the best possible way," she purred, her pupils dilated.

"That's not how I operate, now if you will excuse me," he said, his anger starting to bubble.

"That's how you used to operate," the woman taunted, her fingers trailing over the buttons of his jacket. "I'm a little hurt that you don't recognize me," the woman pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Should I?" He asked, trying to place her face.

"Paris, summer of 1783, you had me by the hair, bent over the side of a balcony, fucking me so hard that the cement cracked," she told him, licking her lips. "You were wild, rough, animalistic. And it was amazing," she breathed, her gaze unfocused as she remembered the night.

Elijah couldn't remember her, nor did he remember the event. It was amusing to him that this vampire thought she was special. She wasn't. He had bedded hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women. He only ever remembered the ones he loved.

"A shame you can't recall, I've thought about it many times over the years," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit pathetic," he said bluntly.

She laughed, not taking offense. "Perhaps, but the sex was fantastic, I can still feel your bite," she smiled, her eyes falling to his mouth.

Elijah shook his head. "My dear, I'm sure there are plenty of willing participants here, if you truly wish to relive the past, you'll have no trouble finding someone to assist," he said dismissively.

"I would prefer you," the woman said, her tone changing. "No one here matches your power, no one can fuck me like you did."

"Maybe try Niklaus, ask him to bite you," he smirked, watching as his brother and Camille were laughing together.

"Both of you dating humans, what a complete and utter waste," she said, her eyes flicking to you. "I bet I could make you forget all about her," she cooed, pressing herself closer to him.

You could see this vampire all over Elijah, touching him and speaking in his ear. You weaved through the crowd, wanting to put an end to it.

Elijah's attention turned from the woman, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you walking towards him.

"I'm going to have to politely decline, thank you." he said, reaching his hand out for yours.

"Come now, surely you could use some relief," the woman cooed, her hands trailing over his body, ignoring your presence completely.

You didn't quite know what came over you, but you reached up and gently slapped her hand away from him.

The vampire turned her attention to you, her eyes going to the bruising on your arm. She let out a laugh. "Oh my, perhaps I was wrong, looks like your little plaything can handle you," the woman mocked, a smirk on her lips.

"Don't," Elijah growled, not appreciating her words.

She just laughed and shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "If you change your mind, I'll be here all night." the vampire winked at him and walked away, joining another group.

Elijah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You gave Elijah a half-smile, hoping he wouldn't think you were stupid for hitting the vampire. She could have so easily crushed you, but you weren't afraid of her.

"Who was that?" you asked, annoyed by the exchange.

He shook his head. "An old lover, it seems," he told you, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Oh," was all you said, sadness filling you. You weren't the overly jealous type, but knowing that vampire had Elijah in a way you hadn't made you envious and sad.

Elijah saw the change in your demeanor and realized he had not answered the question right. You misunderstood him.

"Not a recent lover," he explained. "It was a very long time ago, and I do not remember the night," he assured you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You sighed, his touch instantly easing the tension in your body.

He pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "That was very brave of you, that could have ended very badly" he said softly in your ear.

Your hands went to his shoulders, clinging to his jacket, the material warm from his body. "You make me feel brave, you make me feel safe," you murmured.

His heart constricted. He didn't deserve your faith or your trust. The bruise on your arm was proof enough of that. He should let you go, make you hate him and walk away from you before you get hurt anymore, but he couldn't. Not while you were looking up at him with all that trust and affection in your eyes. He loved you far too much to give up.

He leaned in and kissed you, the familiar spark of electricity passing between you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He was pouring everything he felt for you into it, hoping you could feel the depths of his love and devotion.

You returned the kiss, trying to convey all the things you couldn't say. You broke apart, panting slightly. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"Eli, I was hoping that we could...," you trailed off, biting your lip.

"What?" he asked, his eyes fluttering open.

"I want us to...you know," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, hunger and need filled him. All of the work he had done to push away his urges, to protect you, had unraveled in an instant. Now all he could focus on was the vision of your body beneath his, the feeling of skin against skin. The blood flowing through your veins singing a song to him that he could not deny, at least, not completely.

He pulled you a little closer, swaying you to the music playing, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. You watched his pupils dilate, saw the tension in his jaw and the bob of his Adam's apple.

"Not tonight," he murmured, trying his hardest to hide how much he wanted you, how much it would hurt to reject you again.

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging on it a little harder than you meant to. He never wanted to give in, to allow himself a taste of pleasure. Even with his walls down, Elijah could never truly give himself to you completely.

His hands went to yours, prying your fingers from his jacket, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You do not understand how difficult it is," he hissed.

You pulled against his grip, anger bubbling up. "So, help me understand," you said in a soft tone, ignoring the fact that you were arguing in a room full of people and that you were both gripping each other hard enough to bruise.

"It feels like..." you started, shaking your head a little, "like, I am not enough. Do you not want me? Or have you realized that you need more and I cannot provide that to you?" You finished in a small voice.

His grip on your hands tightened, a warning look flashing in his eyes. "You are more than enough," he whispered, his eyes softening.

You took a steadying breath. "Then. Please. Fuck. Me," you said bluntly.

Elijah let go of you as if you had burned him. Your words cut him deeply.

You let out a frustrated sigh, his rejection stinging. "I... I'm going to go home," you said, blinking back tears.

He went to grab you but you moved out of his reach, his fingers barely grazing your arm. He watched you leave, his eyes following your figure until it disappeared into the crowd.

It was in that moment that he knew he had to make a decision, either he could keep trying to be gentle with you and risk losing you or he could give in and have you completely, but at the cost of hurting you.

Elijah drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar, his mind made up. He followed you, moving so fast that no one saw him leave.

You were upset, your feelings a tangled mess, waiting in a quiet hallway for the elevator to arrive. Your eyes were glazed with tears, your breathing shaky. You didn't know what to do, and you didn't know what you wanted from him.

You were lost in thought when the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, but before the doors opened, hands were on your waist and you were pressed against the wall. His lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you up and pushing your dress higher.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing your body against his. The heat between you erupting, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

He broke the kiss, his mouth going to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. His hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer. He was rough and urgent, his nails digging into your skin. You gasped, arching into him, needing to feel more.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. "I will," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours.

You clung to him, giving yourself over to the moment. He lifted you off the ground and carried you to the elevator. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, pressing you against the wall. His hands were all over your body, touching and teasing.

You were so caught up in his touch that you didn't notice the doors closing, trapping the two of you alone. He punched the panel, making the elevator come to a jerking stop. He kissed you, his hands finding their way under your dress, pushing the fabric out of the way.

He gripped your hips, grinding against you. The intensity and desperation in his touch was new, making your head spin. You wanted more, needed more. You moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

He pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. You gasped, arching into him. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it inside of you. He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

He groaned, the feeling of you tightening around him almost too much, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to hear you say my name when I make you come," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin.

All you could do was nod, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, it was all happening so fast and you couldn't get enough of it. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at your skin. He added a third finger, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit.

Your eyebrows arched, locking eyes with him, your mouth open and your hands clutching his jacket. The pressure was building and you felt like you were going to explode. You gasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Elijah," you said his name breathlessly.

"That's it," he encouraged, pulling on your earlobe with his teeth. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Elijah," you moaned, the pressure coiling tighter.

"Again," he demanded, his hand speeding up.

"Elijah," his name fell from your lips, your release crashing through you.

Your eyes slammed shut, your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck straining. You were trembling, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. You could feel his fangs graze your skin.

He was so hard, you could feel his erection pressing against you. You shifted your weight, trying to gain some friction, but he pulled away, his hands on your hips, pinning you in place.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face, his eyes completely black, the veins under them moving, his mouth open slightly, showing his fangs. You felt fear, but not the type of fear that made you want to run, but the kind of fear that sent a thrill through your body, the kind that made you crave danger.

You lightly traced your fingers over the veins, a smile on your lips. His chest rising and falling rapidly. You ran your finger over his lower lip, and he leaned in, his fangs scraping the pad of your finger. You could feel the sharp tips. He was so dangerous, so lethal, a perfect predator, yet here you were, trapped and wanting nothing more than to have him consume you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pressed his body against yours, his erection grinding against you. You moaned, reaching between you, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper of his trousers. You tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him.

"Fuck," he growled, his hips bucking, seeking more of your touch.

You tightened your grip, stroking him faster, twisting your wrist a little. He groaned, his hands on your thighs, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted slightly.

You released him and wrapped your arms back around his neck, grinding yourself against him. He growled, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you. You used the wall for support and wrapped your legs around him, angling yourself just right. You cried out as he pressed inside, stretching and filling you.

His breath was hot against your neck. "That's my girl," he said softly.

He paused a moment, giving you time to adjust. Then he started to thrust, his rhythm slow and measured, watching the way your expression changed as he fucked you. You moaned, your legs tightening around him, your ankles locking together, trying to pull him closer.

He pumped his hips, burying himself deep inside you. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft flesh of your neck.

It took every bit of control he had not to give in and bite you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your blood pump just below the surface of your skin. His hips snapped harder, driving into you, focused on fucking you, on drawing more delicious moans and whimpers from sweet lips.

The coil within you grew tighter, the pressure increasing with every movement of his hips. You clung to his jacket, needing something to anchor you, feeling as if you were spinning out of control. He grunted with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin almost drowned out by the blood pumping furiously in your ears.

His eyes never left yours, a predatory look crossing his features, his fingers gripping the swell of your ass, pounding into you with incredible force, your head hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

It was intense and consuming and you couldn't get enough of him, and neither could he.

You lost track of how many times you'd come, all you knew was the sweet, aching tension was building again and you didn't know if you could handle another. He held you so tight, your body pressed so close to his, his fangs threatening to pierce the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn't stop, you didn't want it to stop.

Then his rhythm faltered, his breathing becoming labored, his hips pumping furiously. He needed a release. It had been a while since he'd experienced such raw, carnal lust.

He could no longer keep himself from drinking from you, he'd waited too long, denied his primal urges. With a snarl, he sunk his fangs into the side of your neck. A guttural cry fell from your lips, your back arching as you came undone, the sudden pain mixed with the pleasure so intense, you felt your vision darkening as you blacked out.

Elijah gripped your thighs, his lips pulling blood from your body, sending your pulse racing, your blood so hot and sweet that he thought he would combust. He let himself go, cumming deep inside of you, your blood in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue and rushing into his system. Your body went limp in his arms, your heartbeat slowing.

Sudden panic consumed him, what had he done? The guilt and fear crashed over him in waves. You looked so pale, you were dying in his arms and it was his fault. The rage and self-hatred he had tried so hard to keep in check ripped through him, his true nature unleashed.

But then you opened your eyes, smiling at him dreamily and something inside of him snapped back into place.

Elijah chuckled, still inside of you. He grinned, the edges of his lips curving upwards. He kissed you softly, reverently.

"Holy fuck Elijah," you chuckled, panting slightly, your heart beating erratically, but you felt alive and amazing, and loved.

"You scared me for a moment," he confessed, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was.. You are..," you struggled for words. "Just wow," you laughed.

You held on to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, supporting you, the other stroking the side of your head. You breathed him in, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek, his nose rubbing against your skin.

"Let's go home, I want you all to myself," you murmured, kissing his neck, the taste of him filling you.

He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. "As you wish."

"We have a lot of catching up to do," you grinned, thinking of all the things you were going to do to him.

Elijah chuckled. "My sweet girl," he murmured, kissing you gently.

The elevator rattled, the emergency lights coming on. Elijah pulled away from you, adjusting your dress, smoothing the fabric. He zipped and buttoned his trousers, straightening his clothes. The panel was broken, slight electrical sparks coming from the metal. Elijah gripped the doors, forcing them open. He stepped out and helped you down. You smoothed your dress, looking at him shyly. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you out of the building.

"I like it when you lose control, perhaps that was the solution all along," you teased, walking along the street, your fingers intertwined with his.

Elijah laughed. "Perhaps, my darling, you may be right."

And with that, he swept you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out into the night.

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charmandabear · 17 hours

Note

11. Astarion x Reader 👀

We're not going to worry about how long it'll take me to answer these. We're not going to talk about it. Listen, I'm trying so hard to not make these into whole things, I just want to treat them like writing exercises, but I physically can't not finish smut once it's started.

From @astarionfreak's smut ask game ~ other entries

11. "I touched myself last night thinking about you." "I know."

Tags/Warnings: reader isn't gendered but has a vulva, blood/blood drinking, p in v sex, somewhat rough sex (reader gets a little feral in this one)

You're not subtle about it at all.

Every time he catches you staring, you quickly turn your head. At one point you even just shift your eyes, trying to pretend you're looking at something behind him. But there's no way he isn't at least a little suspicious.

Since the night you let Astarion bite you, the tension between the two of you has been palpable. Something about having him pressed down on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hand cradling your neck in a way that was disproportionately gentle set something on fire inside you. You really thought that you could just get over your little crush if you got it out of your system. Sate the need and you could go back to just being friends... Or whatever you are with him.

But it had the opposite effect. Now, his very presence turns you on. The wind catches his scent and you instinctively press your thighs together. He grins after making some sassy remark to Gale, and the glint of his fangs in the light makes your mouth go dry. You even need to suppress a moan when he gets a particularly impressive kill. You really hope no one heard that one.

So now, sitting around the campfire with the rest of your companions, you're just trying desperately to appear normal. You laugh absentmindedly at whatever joke Karlach just made while in your mind, Astarion's railing you up against a tree. It's only when you realize that Wyll has been trying to ask you a question for the past 90 seconds that you know you're too far gone to be in polite company.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it, long day," you make the excuse lamely. "I'm going to turn in a little early, I've got a bit of a headache."

"Do you want something for it?" Shadowheart asks with a frown. "I've got some herbal remedies that might help."

"I'm fine, I think I just need some rest." You force a smile onto your face. "'Night, all." You walk back to your tent stiffly, speeding up to cover the last few meters quickly. Your breath wracks through your body and your blood pounds in your ears. You've never - never - gotten this worked up over another person, never mind a man. Honestly, he's not even really your usual type, you'd normally be much more likely to pursue someone like Shadowheart. But she so clearly has a thing for Karlach, and that's not something you'd want to get in the way of.

But this pale, devastatingly handsome vampire elf has your desire in a chokehold.

You light a lantern inside your tent and take out your journal to sketch. You try to conjure some of the imagery you saw today to keep your brain off Astarion. Scratch and the owlbear cub playing. The terrifying harpies that almost lured one of the tiefling children. Astarion's blade dripping with harpy blood while his bright red eyes sparkle with mischief and the thrill of he kill.

Fucking hells.

You eventually put your journal away and lay down on your bedroll, staring at the ceiling of your tent while the others continue to chat and laugh outside. You listen to their conversation die down, their goodnights, and finally the distant sound of crickets and other nighttime fauna. Your eyes start to grow heavy, or at the very least bored of looking at the support rods in your tent.

You only realize that you've drifted to sleep when you're startled awake by a soft tapping on the canvas flap that separates you from the rest of camp.

"Y-yes?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like, although it's not like a vicious creature would politely knock on your makeshift door. The flap lifts up to reveal the literal last person you'd like to see right now.

"Hello, darling," Astarion grins in that irresistible way that he does. "I wanted to check in on our fearless leader. You've seemed dreadfully jumpy all day."

"Oh! Um." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "I'm.. fine. Thank you, Astarion." You nod your head in a gesture of dismissal, but he doesn't move.

"Are you sure? You're positively flushed." His smile suggests he knows more than he's letting on. You chew on your lower lip to distract you from the growing ache between your legs.

"I'm perfectly fine, Astarion, thank you. Good night." You reach to close the tent flap but he holds onto it. Your fingers brush against his and it's like a jolt of lightning passes between your hands.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, dropping his voice. He pushes his way into your tent and you scramble backwards. The last thing you need is for him to touch you - you might not be able to control yourself if he does. "Now tell me, what's had you so hot and bothered all day?"

"N-nothing," you stammer, wishing you could just disappear on the spot. He raises an eyebrow and you backpedal. "Well, fine, I think something Gale cooked isn't sitting quite right with me. I was... embarrassed." The lie rings hollow even to you.

"Come now, love, we both know you're a terrible liar." He crawls towards you on his knees, a predator stalking his prey. Your breath catches in your throat. "Do you have something you need to confess?"

You're trapped. You've run out of room in the tent to back away, and Astarion has all but crawled on top of you. His scent is intoxicating and his eyes gleam in the low light. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"I touched myself last night thinking about you."

"I know." The grin that curls across his face is fiendish. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

"You know?" Then you gasp suddenly. "The tadpole..."

Astarion lets out a bark of a laugh, loud enough that you're worried it might wake your other companions. "Darling, I didn't need a tadpole to figure that one out. Like I said, you're a terrible liar." He nudges his knee closer to the apex of your legs and you can feel your arousal making your underclothes wet. "What I want to know is, how did you picture me? My head between your legs? Did I have you on all fours in the forest? Or..." His lips ghost against yours now and your head feels dizzy with lust. "Or perhaps I had you pinned down in this very tent, taking my time as I had my way with you?"

Your instincts take over and you close the minimal distance between you, pulling him down on top of you as you ravage his lips. You claw at his clothing, no longer interested in maintaining decorum. He tears at the laces of your breeches, pulling them down below your hips and exposing your dripping cunt to the open air. A cry rips through your throat as he licks a thick stripe up your slit, and his chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls up on his knees and grins down at you, open and wanton, as he slips out of his pants.

"So very eager," he hums as he frees his cock, engorged and already dripping. A shudder runs through you as you see it, and you yank on his shirt and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him roughly, catching his lower lip in your teeth as you hook your leg around his waist.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Astarion," you hiss through gritted teeth, and you groan loudly when he easily sinks in up to his base.

"Someone wants the whole of camp to hear," he growls in your ear as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

"Then you better make it quick so we don't wake them," you snarl in response, all pretenses having vanished. You tangle your fingers into his hair and press his face to your neck. You feel his lips stretch into a smile just before he sinks his fangs into you, the icy shard of pain melting into the heat of his mouth warming with your blood.

You jut your hips up into him, desperately chasing your release as he drinks his fill. He fucks into you, hard and messy, and before long you're feeling the pressure building in your core.

"Gods, Astarion, don't stop," you gasp hungrily in his ear, and he increases his pace to a punishing rhythm. You're starting to grow faint from blood loss just as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your walls clench and shudder around his length and he tears his mouth away from your neck, his expression wild and bloody. A few more broken ruts and you can feel him spilling inside you, the feeling his pulsing cock prolonging your own climax.

The two of you eventually still, covered in a sheen of sweat and panting heavily. Your ears strain to hear if there has been any disturbance in camp to indicate that your other companions heard anything. Outside your tent remains, thankfully, silent.

"Well then," Astarion exhales quickly as he slides out of you. "Darling, if it's going to be like that, then you just need to invite me next time."

#smut ask game #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 smut #smutty fanfiction #smutty one shot #bg3 astarion x reader #bg3 astarion fanfic

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captain-hawks · 1 day

Note

Happy spicy sleepover 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

I feel like Wriothesley deserves to fuck someone’s face? Only you can tell me what that’s like.

Xoxoxo

@mojogojocasahouse

wriothesley x f!reader

c: rough oral sex, masturbation, 18+

-> spicy sleepover saturday

Wriothesley probably shouldn’t be doing this.

But with weeks worth of stress from unrest and issues running rampant throughout the prison weighing heavily on his shoulders, the space beneath his eyes dark from a lack of sleep and his mood equally bitter to match, he slipped today.

He slipped, his normally well-contained self control tumbling off the edge as your habitual verbal sparring struck a particularly raw nerve today when he paid a visit to your workstation in the Production Zone.

This was nothing new between the two of you—your dynamic a constant push and pull to see just how far you could push the Duke with your remarks, an endless spew of suggestive comments and argumentative, teasing statements designed to drive him up a wall. But you weren’t the first prisoner to shamelessly flirt with him, and you certainly wouldn’t be the last.

(And while he wasn’t wholly immune to his attraction to you, something he couldn’t deny, that was something he could handle alone with his hands in the privacy of his office.)

But today—today was a problem.

Today, Wriothesley had been absolutely intent on avoiding you, last night’s fantasy of your face covered in thick, hot ropes of his cum as his hips jerked hard into his tight fist still too fresh in his mind alongside a slew of aggravating tasks this morning.

But his foul mood and waning restraint was no match for your remarks today (“Your Grace, I really think you need to get lai—”), the smirk on your face having only grown wider as he crowded you into a dark corner behind one of the machines and lowly growled, “I would truly love to know what a single fucking day of peace around here would look like, ideally one where you remember who I am, mind your words, and close your mouth for once.”

He should have known your reply wasn’t headed anywhere good, not when you’d taken your bottom lip between your teeth, tilting your head to the side slightly as you mused, “I mean, if you’d like to shut me up yourself, you’re more than welcome to.”

He’d snapped.

He shouldn’t fucking be doing this.

He shouldn’t be staring down at you kneeling down on the floor in front of him in his office, watching his cock disappear between your full lips.

He shouldn’t be inhaling sharply as you run your fingers over his balls, shuddering at the feeling of you moaning around his shaft.

You’re a goddamn inmate under his watch—a prisoner nonetheless, despite the decidedly petty charges you’d been brought in for.

(It’s neither here nor there that if he’d run into you above Fontaine’s depths, his gaze meeting your bright eyes and witty smile across a market stall, the two of you likely still would have ended up like this.)

(Somehow, somewhere.)

“I won’t break, you know,” you murmur, lips glossy with spit as you pop your mouth off of his cock and glance upward, lazily stroking him.

He stares down at you, something hot searing in his gut as you continue, “Shut me up like you mean it. I can take it.”

Something hot flares in his gut at the challenge in your words, the way you run your tongue over your bottom lip before engulfing his length in the wet heat of your mouth once more. But this time, you go further, taking the full length of his cock between your pretty lips and moaning as you begin to deep throat him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, marveling at your clear lack of a gag reflex, one hand scrambling in the air for purchase before grasping the lip of his desk behind him.

His hips begin to involuntarily cant forward as you swirl your tongue around his shaft, saliva dripping down your face while you suck him off so deeply his balls are nestled against your chin. You reach out, grasping his free hand and placing it on the back of your head, and it’s then that he fully understands exactly what you intend for him to do.

His arousal flares white-hot, dangerous and molten as it floods his veins and douses the rest of his senses, whittling his thoughts down to a desperate, near feral need.

Wriothesley gives one experimental thrust into your mouth, and the sultry, needy moan that vibrates along the pulsing length of his cock is all the encouragement he needs.

“Touch yourself,” he murmurs as he begins to fuck your mouth, the intensity of his pleasure only growing hotter at the sound of your zipper sliding down.

It’s the lewd squelch of your undeniably wet cunt—soaking wet for him—as you slip your fingers between your folds that sends Wriothesley past the point of no return, roughly fucking your mouth like his life depends on it. On filling your mouth with so much cum it overflows, dripping hot and sticky from between the barrier of your lips.

He nearly forgets how to breathe as his pleasure reaches the precipice, his rock hard cock throbbing and aching with so much desperate pleasure he’s on the verge of blacking out, and your watery eyes meet his as you whimper around him, coming on your fingers. And then he’s coming hard down your throat—so hard that he’s not sure when the ropes of cum will cease to stop pouring out of him. And you’re not complaining, swallowing all that he gives you and milking his cock for every last drop.

When he finally pulls his half-hard shaft out of your mouth, one last thick spurt drips onto your lips, and you swipe it away, offering him a coy smile as you lick the cum off of your thumb and ask, “Feeling any better, Your Grace?”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fanfiction #wriothesley smut #wriothesley #spicy sleepover with captain-hawks #dee writes

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shahrwrites · 2 days

Text

Call me delulu for this one, but the parallel occurred to me whilst studying for an upcoming test and now it’s all I can think about so of course I had to post it.

The two times Dick went berserk over what had been done to Jason and I’m all here for it.

The panel on the left is when Joker kidnapped Tim and made the mistake of mentioning Jason’s name. That famous moment that Dick *killed* Joker.

The panel on the right is Gotham War when Dick finds out Bruce kidnapped Jason and psychologically manipulated him.

Funny thing is, both times Tim stopped him, and the one he was a little late for. Makes me wonder how far Dick would have gone if Tim hadn’t been there to stop him beating Bruce.

[Im gonna put a little headcanon in the following, so beware.]

The parallel kinda occurred to me because I was imagining a scenario actually. Post Gotham war where Dick’s taking Jason away from Gotham and all it’s crazyness. So they’re in the car and Dick’s driving, looking out at the roadside and the sun’s beating down on lush green grass and he’s reminiscing about a forgotten memory buried deep in the treasure trove of his most cherished memories of a time long bygone. A memory of himself and Jason picnicking out near the manor grounds one day with Alfred and Bruce. And they were playing some game of chase or another that ended up in a bit of rough housing and lighthearted bickering and hearty laughter and—It turned out to be such a good day. A rare memory.

And what if they stopped on the way to picnic on the roadside, for old time’s sake? Because they’ve got a blanket in the back and they’ve already packed food for the road and basically they’ve got everything they’d need, and wouldn’t it be such a shame if they let that opportunity to go to waste?

So here they were now, stomachs full and lying on their backs, staring at a partly cloudy sky, playing a childish game of pointing out the shapes of passing clouds to each other. It’s a little stupid, and because it’s stupid they start arguing over pointless stupid details. A harmless argument that—ironically enough—develops into a round of rough housing, again. And maybe for just a moment they’d both allowed themselves to forget what they’re running away from. But a frown flashes over Jason’s expression for the barest of seconds and Dick just—stops.

They’ve ended up with Jason on his back and Dick over and above him, and Dick can’t help but caress his hair, touch the side of his face, checking his expression and body responses to make sure that Jason’s alright.

And Jason’s fine—Dick stop fussing, it was just a moment!

So Dick’s hand just drops and he’s moving away, not looking at Jason, not able to meet his eyes.

He’s holding himself in that way he does when his thoughts are chipping away at his soul, a sight that’s become recognizable to Jason over the years. “What happened?”

Nothing but the usual, he wants to say. Once again something terrible happened to you and I wasn’t there to stop it. To protect you. But I made sure to take out the simmering rage running through my vains out on the man responsible with my fists. Because that’s what I can do. Twice you needed me, and twice I wasn’t there. But I made sure they paid for it, right? I made sure of it.

#idk it was so satisfying for me to watch bruce get beaten up #kinda even more satisfying than dick *killing* joker #honestly he had it coming #dick grayson #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #dickjay #jaydick #jaydick headcanons #headcanons #my headcanons

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fortunekookie07 · 2 days

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I know I already posted this with a reblog, buuuuut it's gotten zero attention. I am aware that I am by far not the most popular writer, but I didn't think this story was awful either. I think maybe it's being blocked or something. Not sure. So take two! Please tell me your thoughts. They help me keep writing and improving.

Cereal IS a Soup

Zayne was still fast asleep by the time your eyes opened. His arm draped over your waist the comfort and safety you fell asleep to nearly every night. Carefully, you slowly roll over and watch his sleeping face. Ah, there it is, that little frown again. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle between his brows.

Moving closer, you kiss his nose before trying to leave his embrace. Now that you're awake, your bladder demands relief. As you try to move past his arm, it suddenly tightens, and he draws you closer into his chest. Then his morning groggy voice is in your ear. "Where do you think you're going?" He asks, voice deeper than usual, still rough from sleep.

"Bathroom", you say still trying to wiggle out of his arms. He holds you a moment longer and then finally releases you. You scramble out of bed, quickly untangling your legs from his and the mess you've made of the blankets.

After washing your hands you head to the kitchen to start some coffee. Glancing at the clock, you realize that it's late. Almost 10:30, Zayne hardly ever sleeps late. Usually he's up with the sun, not today. On his rare days off he does tend to sleep in. Just not this much. A few minutes later he's shuffling into the kitchen, looking more rested then usual.

He comes to stand beside you saying nothing as he waits for the coffee. Wordlessly you take his usual cup and pour the steaming liquid in and stir in cream and his four spoons of sugar. He likes his coffe sweet. As your handing him the cup he kisses your temple and then moves to the fridge. Having not been grocery shopping this week yet, choices are limited. It's definitely a cereal day.

You gabs two bowls and spoons and he grabs both kinds of cereal and the milk. You grab the cheerios and pour some into your bowl and wait for the milk. Zayne is just pouring the milk when he catches you staring at his bowl with that look on your face, he stops.

"Stop thinking whatever you're thinking." He says eyeing you like you're about to grow two heads. "Huh?" You say brilliantly not aware that, that tell tale silly look is on your face once again. Zayne has had many years to learn your expressions.

"You always have that look on your face when you're about to say something stupid just to annoy me. So cut it out..." You cut him off. "I love you." You say smiling innocently. He stares at you eyes narrowed as he pushes the milk towards you.

You grab it and start pouring before saying "Also, cereal qualifies as a soup." His spoon clatters on the table as he drops it and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I knew it." You giggle at him and start eating. "I mean think about it!" You start to elaborate on the qualifications of soup and the similarities of cereal. Zayne now has a full on face palm, his elbow on the table. "I married a five year old". He mutters earning more giggles from you as you finish off the rest of your bowl.

After setting your bowl in the sink you go over and poke his face, he looks up at you almost as if he expects something equally ridiculous to pop out of your mouth. Clearly he is regretting letting you get into that drunken, heated debate with a coworker the night before. How you got on the topic of soup is still a mystery to him.

You peck his cheek and say "cereal really should be considered soup. And I love you too." Zayne decides right then and there to never allow you to drink around anyone but him again. That should keep the shenanigans to a minimum. He pulls you down into his lap and says seriously, "cereal is not a soup and you're not allowed to drink with my coworkers anymore." He lightly pinches your lips together to keep you from protesting as he takes another sip of his coffee.

"No more silliness." He gives you that look before he releases your lips. You make a big show of rubbing your lips and pouting. "What do you want to do today?" He asks after a moment of silence. You think as you mind stars running with ideas, each one rejected the moment you realize you don't really want to leave the house today. "I just want to spend all day right by your side. I don't feel like going anywhere." He nods thoughtful as he considers the choices.

He wouldn't be opposed to just going right back to bed as long as you're right beside him. He always does sleep better with you tucked into his arms. He hooks his arm under your knees before standing. You look at him curiously as he makes his way back to the bedroom. "I wouldn't mind spending the day in bed. I just want to do nothing today." You smile perfectly content as he lays you down on the bed and then immediately follows.

After he's laying down and flipping the blankets back over you, he holds his arm out, and you immediately snuggle into his side, laying your head on his shoulder. After a few minutes of silence, you speak. "Zayne?" He hums in response. "I love you." His eyes open, and he looks down at you. "I love you too." He kisses your temple again and then squeezes you closer as you drift off to sleep. Content with your little slice of happiness.

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

This is what I came up with after reading a bit of dialog that love-and-deepspace-incorrect-quotes had thought up. As promised, it's packed with cheesyness. I hope you liked it!

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lnds #love and deepspace zayne #lnds mc #lnds zayne #love and deepspace zayne x reader #lnds zayne x reader #cheesy #all the sweet #sweet

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mrsparrasblog · 18 hours

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Tf 141 and their kinks

Price: Breeding kink 100%; he loves fucking you raw even when you take the pill. "Going to fill you up, nice Love" "going to fuck my baby into your cunt" calls you very often Mrs. Price, while fucking even when you aren't married yet.

Daddy Kink: He always thought it was weird until you looked at him with dear eyes as your legs lay on his shoulders. "Please, Daddy, make me cum," and he was lost. God, he loves the power he holds, but also how well he takes care of you. John Price is the King of Aftercare; I stand by that. He is the perfect Daddy—rough but a sensual lover.

Gaz: Chuck Holding God, he loves watching you get fucked by someone else (especially the captain). He always sits like a good boy in the corner and strokes his hard cock lazily; he can't do it too fast since he cums in seconds.

Another kink of his is fucking you in public, car, cinema, pool, and changing room. Name it; you did it. He especially loves the nights when you have these cute sundresses on and you're sitting in a restaurant, trying so hard not to moan while his long fingers work you open. He insists on walking you home instead of taking an Uber. "If you didn't want it, love, you wouldn't have worn that filthy sundress." He loves free access, and who are you to deny a wish to your pretty boy?

Gaz is the best cook out of your whole team; he always experiments with different foods, so don't wonder when there is a bit of cream or frosting on your body and he licks it clean; it's only right to taste your own creations, right?

Soap: Don't judge me, but I think he has a lactating kink like that. The boy gets off on sucking on your nipples, even though you aren't even lactating. He is whining and begging like a sweet mess. Bonus points if you call him a good boy.

Bondage: He is a switch, so you got shackled in ropes on the bed, unable to move as he edges you for hours until a slow breeze of air on your clit makes you cum undone.

Bonus: I think he would be open to a foot fetish. He never thought he would be, but one day you put your feet on his clothed cock as a joke, and he squirmed like never before.

Ghost: Somnophila: Of course, only with consent, because he would never do something against your will. But, God, you look so sweet and innocent when you sleep. You even feel better when your mind doesn't think about how you look or how you sound—he loves fucking you awake. How your eyes open when you orgasm—his version of breakfast in bed—eating you out like a starved man until you're awake.

He loves a little breathplay on both ends; he loves choking you with his massive cock and how you gag and cry, but even more when you sit on his face, he would die between your legs, so you need to make sure not to suffocate him.

A hidden kink he never thought he had was when you rubbed yourself on his boots and he cums untouched in several seconds. Simon was embarrassed at first; you needed to reassure him that it's hot and nothing to be embarrassed about.

Just a random thought again, lol. I know Ghost's kinks are almost fanon, but I wanted to give him different kinks that fit more with my headcanon of Ghost because I don't think he is a sadist; he is definitely strong enough and has tried it, but I think he also loves his Reader way too much and is afraid of hurting them.

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cloudsontherainbow · 3 days

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Vox Tickle Headcanons!!

Because my art has been making itself at a very slow rate, have some Vox headcanons that rot my brain while you wait

These are mixed up with lee and ler because I was just going on a rampage

my lil guy @hype-blue-fixation was most of my inspiration for this

WARNING: Some might be a bit intense for some viewers so keep that in mind!!

———————————————————————————————

Can NOT say tickle when in a lee mood, replacing it with “tiggle” or “tword”, however in a ler mood he’ll be sure to make the lee crumble by just that word

Absolutely bullies the lee if he’s the one wrecking their ass, there will be zero mercy

He’s a evil teaser, that is his weapon

“Ohohoh look who just found a bad spot~”

“Let’s see how loud I can get you..that way I don’t have to tell everyone how ticklish you are, you’ll be doing it yourself~”

Will not stop till safe word is said, he wants to saver every single second he has to drive the lee crazy

Instead of “soft to rough” tickles, he likes doing “rough to soft” tickles

When in a ler mood, he likes scratching his claws on anything (ex. On his desk, edge of his sleeves, running them on the walls)

When in a lee mood, he will hang around his pet sharkies a lot, getting subtle cuddles from them<3

He’d rather burn in hell twice than ask for tickles.

In a lee mood, he’ll be extra sensitive to any sort of touch; flinching away from hugs, pat on the back, even handshakes

He’s a runner and will try to escape if even a mention of him getting tickled is said

Bratty.

Even while getting his ass wrecked, he’ll say bratty comments

“Is this all you got??”

“And here you said you were gonna have me breathless, where’s all that talk?”

Except once you really get him cackling, he will be begging for his life

He’s a stomper

And of course, a squirmed too, this man WILL NOT stay still no matter what you do

The back of his head/tv panel is his worst spot. No one will convince me otherwise.

You can very much trick him to admit to wanting tickles; teasing him the whole day with slight touches, subtle teases, anything that resembles tickling will drive him insane to the point where he will burst

“STOP IT with the stupid fucking teasing, you’ve been fucking with me the entire day. Just t-t-t-…fuck-“ Just imagine the ler smirking down at him, getting the tv man flustered as fuck and realizes it was a trick all along~

“I don’t want it anymore. Get AWAY from me!!-“

Has ticklish palmmmssss

He actually doesn’t mind when Vel/Val just trace his palms, using him as a fidget toy

He rants to his sharks about the tickle scenarios in his head, and it’s a lot

When he gets too flustered, he has to release it in some kind of way; whether that be punching the floor, kicking his feet, insulting (with no real heat) to his ler, and etc, anything you can think of

When he wants to cover his face, he just rotates his tv head 360 degrees and lays it on the ground

But that exposes his tv panel so it’s a big gamble to hope that his ler doesn’t know that’s even a tickle spot

#clouds do write #sfw tickle #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel #tickle content #lee!vox #sfw tickle community #ler!vox #tickle headcanons #headcanon #tickle headcannons #vox headcanons #vox hazbin hotel

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vilevenom · 2 days

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This bad boy is dedicated to @em-doods, because her adorable sketches of Hickory and John Dory meandering through the woods 100% are the reason I wrote this. (She also helped push me through a rather rough patch I had while writing the first bit, so a super extra special thank you there!!)

If given the chance I will write Hickory and John Dory getting together in every conceivable fashion. In this fic, they go camping.

Enjoy!!

"I've never been campin'."

"What?!" John stared wide eyed at Hickory, who looked somewhat bashful at his admittance.

"Well, I mean…I've been campin', but not, y'know, camping," Hickory unhelpfully tried to clarify while John Dory continued to stare at him in disbelief. He sighed, scratching at his cheek as he tried to think of a way to better explain himself. "Dickory an' I would need to camp out once in a blue moon, y'know, when we were out on a hunt. But it was never the kinda campin' where you get to roast marshtatoes or go swimmin'. It was just basic survival."

"Well, I can't let that stand," John said, smacking the table they were sat at with gusto, making Hickory jump. "No way. Camping, proper camping, is one of the best experiences in the world! I don't think I can let you go another second without experiencing the wonders of camping."

And that was how Hickory found himself staring out Rhonda's front window as John drove her into wilderness unlike any he'd seen before. The troll kingdoms were beautiful and unique in their own ways, but this place was truly something else. Rhonda ducked under gnarled branches and crawled through twisting vines, with John confidently at her helm, a broad smile on his face as he described to Hickory where he was taking them. The Neverglade trail, apparently, had all of the best camping spots, and he knew just the one that Hickory would enjoy.

Hickory felt like he was going to be sick, though he plastered a pleasant smile onto his face and nodded along every time John glanced at him while he excitedly spoke about where they were headed. It wasn't that Hickory didn't want to go camping with John. Oh, no. It was the exact opposite, really. He'd been looking forward to this trip since John had declared they were going a few days prior. It was the fact that it was just the two of them. Alone. Together. It made Hickory's heart jump into his throat and his palms sweat.

Thinking back on it, Hickory came to realize that he and John Dory had only really known each other for a handful of months. They'd met when Hickory had gone to Pop Village with the intention of visiting Poppy and Branch, only to find the royal couple surrounded by a group of trolls quickly revealed to be their siblings. Swiftly, Hickory had been introduced to all of Branch's brothers, and Poppy's sister, all while beginning to feel a touch overwhelmed by the new mix of personalities. Not quite sure what to say or how to act, Hickory began to flounder, when one of Branch's brothers had tugged him aside with an easy smile.

"We're a lot, huh?"

"I mean, I dunno if I'd say that, exactly," Hickory had started to demure, only to grunt in surprise as John Dory slapped a hand to his back with a guffaw.

"You don't need to be shy, man. We all know we're a lot. Big personalities," John had reassured, sliding his hand up to rest on Hickory's shoulder. "I know you're here to visit with Branch, but how about we get out of here? I happen to know that everyone else will be buggering off here pretty soon, so you'll have a chance for some one on one time with him and Poppy, but probably not for a couple hours. You can show me around town? I assume you've been here before. I've been here for a whopping three days, so I have no idea where anything is."

Hickory hadn't even realized his shoulders had been tense until they began to relax as John spoke to him. He let a slight smile curl his lips and gave a little nod. "Yeah. I can do that," he easily agreed, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops as they began to walk away from the cluster of trolls.

They'd spent the next couple of hours getting to know each other, and, quite frankly, Hickory couldn't help but to be charmed. John Dory was brash and confident in a way that made him laugh, but was also, somehow surprisingly, incredibly kindhearted.

As they were walking through town, a couple of young trollings had dashed in front of them, only for one to trip and fall directly in front of John Dory. Hickory had fully expected John to, perhaps, help the trolling up and for them to continue on their way, but instead he'd crouched down to the child's level to make sure they were okay. When it was revealed that the trolling had a scrape on their knee, John dug into his hair, pulled out a band-aid, and applied it to the injury without batting an eye. Hickory then watched in amusement as John scooped the kid up into his arms and spun around while theatrically wondering where the trolling's friend could have gone. They, of course, had been right behind John, giggling manically as the teal troll continued to spin and pretend he couldn't see them. Finally, he placed the injured child down, and the two all but begged John to go play with them.

"Sorry, I can't. See this guy behind me," John thrust his thumb over his shoulder towards Hickory, who gave them a little wave "He's my tour guide. And I can't just let him go on touring by himself."

The children whined at him while Hickory chuckled at their antics, but John ultimately encouraged them to continue on with their game, which they reluctantly did when it became obvious that John was just this side of too stubborn for them to persuade.

"That was mighty kind of you," Hickory hummed as they began to walk through the village again.

"Hm? Was it? I dunno," John said with a self depreciating little laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, "Just seemed natural to me. But, that probably comes from being the oldest of five. Lots of bumps and scrapes to take care of when they come running to you for comfort."

Hickory decided to side-step the comment about John's brothers going to him, rather than their parents. He was sure there was a story there, but it sounded like one for another time. "So…Yer the oldest brother, huh?"

John snorted, shoving Hickory playfully with an sheepish grin. "Yes. What's it to ya?"

"Not much. Just didn't much figure Branch havin' a silver fox for a siblin'."

"Silver-?! I am NOT that old. Do you see any grey hair here?!" John huffed, puffing out his chest and pulled his goggles up to show off his very teal roots, earning a laugh from Hickory. "If you must know, Branch is about fourteen years younger than me. The rest are all in between."

"Ah, can't remember with yer ancient brain? Ya need help rememberin', old man? I can always go find one of yer brothers, if ya need assistance."

"That is just uncalled for," John sniffed, looking affronted. Hickory worried for a moment that he'd taken a step too far in his teasing, when John snorted and deflated a bit. "I am getting old, aren't I?"

Hickory clicked his tongue, quickly realizing he had hit a nerve, but not the one he'd thought. "John, if I may, an' if my math is right, yer only thirty-eight. That ain't that old," Hickory reassured, offering a warm smile to the teal troll, "Yer only a few years older than I am, an' I certainly ain't old."

"Oh, yeah? And how old is the whipper snapper?" John joked, obviously lightened a bit by Hickory's reassurance.

"Thirty-two."

"Ah, you're between Clay and Floyd," John hummed, though the comment was obviously directed more towards himself.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed easily as they continued to walk through the village, Hickory occasionally pointing out landmarks or buildings he knew, while John Dory made comments here and there about how different the village was from the tree he's grown up in. He also made a point to let Hickory know that he'd obviously need to get another tour through town, what with his poor old memory not being quite what it used to be. Hickory was fairly certain he'd never had such entertaining conversation with another troll.

Eventually, they wandered back to Branch's bunker, where John bid Hickory adieu with a rather ridiculous and dramatic bow before going on his way, while Hickory descended into the bunker to have his intended visit with Branch and Poppy.

Their catching up truthfully didn't get very far before the topic of the royal couple's recent adventure and estranged siblings came up, and Hickory mindlessly blurted out, "So…what's yer brother like?"

"…which one?" Branch said with a snort, arching an eyebrow at the ex-bounty hunter.

"John Dory."

Branch seemed to think for a moment, while Poppy gave Hickory an awkward smile. "He's an obnoxious, self-centered know-it-all."

Hickory blinked, quite taken aback by Branch's opinion of his brother. "Really? I never woulda guessed that by the way he was actin' today…"

"Well, to be honest, he may be my brother, but I don't really know him that well. We haven't seen each other in twenty years, but that's the impression I've gotten of him so far," Branch said with a quiet sigh. "He'll be staying in Pop Village for a while, since Floyd is recovering. Maybe if I give him some time, my opinion will change? But, that's what I've got for now."

Hickory hummed thoughtfully, and decided he would give it some time, as well. He bounced back and forth between Lonesome Flats and Pop Village over the next few months, and never once did John Dory give Hickory the impression of being self-centered, nor did he ever become obnoxious. In fact, he continued to prove the exact opposite. Nearly every time Hickory visited, John was with Branch, Floyd, or both, supporting his younger brothers in whatever they might need. And whenever Hickory made himself known, John offered to make himself scarce so Hickory could visit with Branch unimpeded. Eventually, however, Hickory had to reveal that he'd been intending to visit John the entire time, and that had been something of an awkward chat in and of itself. The sheer surprise that had shown on John's face when Hickory admitted that he wanted to spend more time with John had certainly made his heart twist in an unexpected way.

In the end, the longer Hickory spent with John Dory, the more he seemed to develop a rather inconvenient crush on the teal troll. Especially when he did things as sweet and thoughtful as remembering Hickory had casually mentioned once that he had a soft spot for a particular cupcake made by one particular stand in the market, but he was never early enough to get one. John had presented one to Hickory with a proud little grin on his face the next time the country troll visited. Or the way he obviously thought about Hickory even when they weren't together, as on one occasion when he'd trotted up to Hickory and presented him with a rather fancy looking silver belt buckle emblazoned with intricate little flower patterns. He'd said he'd picked it up in his travels and was going to toss it away, but perhaps Hickory would like it, instead?

Now, most trolls would probably consider such actions to be relatively basic indications of friendship. However, Hickory had had so few friends, or trolls who cared for him (and not a character he and his brother created) that he couldn't help but feel special when John gave him his undivided attention. And he had a sneaking suspicion that John Dory was much the same.

He mentioned the incidents to Poppy and Branch the next time he sat down with them to chat, the former of whom cooed happily at the revelation, while the later gagged quietly.

"I…I think he's got my heart all a flutter. What do I do?" Hickory asked, head in his hands where he sat at Branch's kitchen table. He felt like a little kid, telling his friends about a crush he had on some troll well out of his league. He felt especially foolish that said friend was his crushes younger brother, who was watching him with a wrinkled nose.

"Why are you asking me? At this point, I'm pretty convinced that you know JD better than I do," Branch said with a slight grimace.

"Oh, that's so cute," Poppy gushed, waving her hands at Hickory as he glanced up at her with a long suffering sigh. "Don't give me that look. It is! I've seen you two walking around town together."

"We certainly get along like a house on fire, but I don't know what to do. I haven't done this in a while. Least, not properly," Hickory sighed, slumping onto the table they were sat around.

"I don't know, man. Talk to him about camping? That seems to be one of his favorite things," Branch offered with a shrug. "Maybe that'll help lead the conversation into something?"

And Hickory had, which did indeed lead to this whole escapade in the first place. Perhaps it would allow him the opportunity to talk to the teal troll about his feelings. If he could work up the courage to do so, that is. Especially with the discouraging little voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that if the conversation went south, he was either going to be left in the wilderness on his own, or have a very awkward trip back to Pop Village.

"How much further are we gonna haveta go to get to this mysterious campin' spot a' yers?" Hickory asked, arching an eyebrow as John turned Rhonda down yet another trail.

"Oh, not too much further, I don't think," John hummed with a smile, shooting Hickory a wink that made the ex-bounty hunter need to immediately step away to try and hide the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

They drove in relative silence for a few more minutes, before John finally pulled Rhonda over, and Hickory managed to calm himself down enough that his cheeks were no longer enflamed.

"Here we are!" John declared, as he spun the drivers seat around to grin widely at Hickory, who offered a slightly mollified one of his own. "Now, grab your gear, we've got a bit of a hike."

"Wait, this isn't where we're campin'?" Hickory asked, watching John pull an overstuffed backpack with a sleeping roll tied to it from atop his loft bed.

"What? No, of course not. You can't get a full and proper camping experience if we're staying in Rhonda. That's, like…'glamping', or whatever. No, if you want a proper camping trip, we gotta hike a bit further in and set up tents!" John exclaimed excitedly, pulling the straps of his bag over his shoulders.

"If ya say so," Hickory said with an awkward chuckle, grabbing his much smaller bag and sleeping roll from where he'd stashed them and following John out of Rhonda.

"Now, you be a good girl," John cooed at Rhonda as Hickory stepped up behind him, "There are lots of berry bushes here, so there's loads to eat. You make sure you're back here in a couple of days, okay?" Hickory watched in amusement as John half wrapped himself around the armadillo bus's face in the closest approximation of a hug as he could get as she churred at him happily.

"Y'sure it's okay t' just leave her here?" Hickory asked as they began to walk away, the ex-bounty hunter shooting Rhonda furtive glances the further away from her they got.

"Oh, yeah. She's a good girl. Even if she's not there when we get back, she usually comes when I call, or we'll just need to wait a day or two when we get back," John reassured, as Hickory watched the energetic bus dart off into some bushes.

"…right."

And so on they went, Hickory diligently following along behind John, until he inevitably got distracted by the massive trees and flora they were hiking past. To the rather unfortunate point where John disappeared beyond a bend before Hickory had even realized he'd been left behind.

"Hey, John, have ya ever-" he'd begun as he turned from staring at a large, drooping orange flower, only to find himself completely alone. "…John?" Hickory tentatively took a few steps forward, glancing this way and that to see if he could spot the teal troll, without luck. "Sugar," he grumbled to himself, unsure if he should proceed forward, or wait to see if John would notice his absence and turn back around to find him.

Just as he turned to sit himself beneath the flower he'd gotten distracted by, a rustling in the bush startled him into pulling a knife from his pocket and brandishing it with a snarl on his face. John had warned him, at one point on their drive here, that wild critters of all shapes and sizes roamed the Neverglades, and that he should be wary of being snuck up on, lest he be eaten. John had said it like it was a joke, but Hickory had noticed the scars John's fur hadn't quite fully grown over. He had no doubt there were plenty of critters who would like nothing more than to get a taste of troll out here, and he was not eager to give them said taste.

So, he stood his ground and waited, until finally John Dory came stumbling out of the brush, leg half tangled in a bramble.

"There you are!" John laughed, shaking the bramble off his leg as Hickory quickly tucked his knife back away, "I turned around to point out some funky looking moss and you were gone."

"Sorry 'bout that. Got caught up admirin' this here flower," Hickory admitted abashedly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

"No worries, man! Just gotta make sure I keep a better eye on you," John chuckled, reaching out and unexpectedly taking Hickory's hand. The country troll felt his cheeks heat up, but luckily John had turned to start tugging him along down the trail, and so missed it entirely. "Don't want you getting lost on me!"

"No, no. Don't wanna get lost," Hickory muttered mostly to himself, his gaze stuck pretty strictly on their clasped hands now, rather than the gorgeous scenery they were walking past. Occasionally John would point something out to Hickory, which would pull the country trolls gaze up for a short period of time, before inevitably trailing back down to their hands.

John didn't let go until they reached a rocky path that lead up what most creatures would probably consider a small foot hill, but was nearly the equivalent of a mountain to the two trolls. The path wound up along the side of the hill, and was only just wide enough for them to walk up one at a time. Hickory did his best to hide his disappointment as John let him go and began to trek up the hillside.

"C'mon! If we're where I think we are, there's a great spot at the top of the hill where we can stop and have lunch," John said, glancing back at Hickory with a bright grin.

"Alright, I'mma comin'," Hickory chuckled, shifting the pack on his shoulders and following along after John.

The two managed to make it about halfway up the hill when they came across a slightly wider spot on the trail, overlooking a rather picturesque little area of the Neverglades.

"Too bad there's not more of a plateau here," John lamented as Hickory stopped next to him, "This would be a great spot to stop for lunch."

"Yeah. S'real pretty," Hickory hummed, turning to look out at the view.

"Wish I'd brought my camera," John added with a despondent sigh, "But I left it in Rhonda."

"Well, ain't that just lucky for you, then," Hickory said with a smile, reaching over his shoulder into his pack, "Because I just so happen to have brought one along." He pulled a little instant camera out of his bag and handed it to John, who snatched it eagerly.

"Awesome! Say cheese," John said with a grin, holding the camera out in front of the two and snapping a photo. Hickory blinked at the flash that went off, trying to get rid of the little flare in his vision.

"Some warnin' woulda been nice," he groused quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have gotten such a great candid shot," John hummed, pulling the photo free of the camera and waving it slightly. He snorted once the image developed, holding it out to Hickory. "See? Perfect moment."

Hickory wrinkled his nose at the photo, which showed a happily grinning John and Hickory looking like he was, perhaps, about to sneeze. "Yeah. Real flatterin'," he muttered, reaching for the photo.

"Hey now, nuh-uh," John said quickly, pulling the photo back to hold against his chest, before quickly stuffing it into his hair, "This one's mine."

"Aw, come on, now," Hickory grumped, reaching for John's hair, "We can take a better one. You don't need t' keep that."

"No," John quickly took a step back, while shoving the camera into his hair as well, "I like it. It's mine, and you can't have it."

"Don't be childish, John," Hickory sighed, reaching for the teal trolls hair again as John quickly took another step back and snorted.

"Have you met me? I'm the least childish troll out there."

"Mhmm, you keep tellin' yerself that," Hickory chuckled, taking another step after John, only for both of them to freeze at a rather ominous cracking sound that emanated around them. "What was-" Hickory barely managed to get the words out, before he felt his foot beginning to sink as the path beneath him began to give way, and the sound of tumbling rocks hit his ears.

"Hickory!"

The ex-bounty hunter gasped as his footing slipped, quickly scrambling for John's reaching hands. The teal troll had his hair wrapped around some roots that were sticking out of the side of the hill, anchoring him as he grabbed for Hickory as he began to fall.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," John chanted as Hickory managed to grab hold of him, using his hair to pull them both away from the crumbling section of path. Once they were both on a more stable spot, Hickory opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd clenched shut, to find himself practically nose to nose with John Dory, both of them panting like they'd just run a mile.

"You okay?" John quietly asked after a beat, grip still tight on Hickory as he stared up at him.

"Bit shaken up, but I think I'll be right as rain here right quick," Hickory murmured back, glad that the adrenaline of his near death experience and lack of breath were more than enough excuse for how dark his cheeks must be from their proximity. If he just moved his head ever so slightly, he could kiss John Dory right then and there.

"Good," John's voice shattered Hickory's momentary daydream, a short pat on his shoulder telling Hickory to move away. Which he did, taking a quick step back to give John space. "I think we're close to the top now. I'd definitely say we earned our lunch."

Hickory let out a little laugh, hoping it didn't come off as nervous or anxious. "Well, you certainly did," he said, following after John, "All I did was nearly fall down the hill."

"Yeah, but you didn't," John said, glancing briefly back at Hickory, "Doesn't that also deserve celebration?"

Hickory smiled to himself as he followed after John, mentally telling his heart to shut up as it did a little summersault in his chest at John's words.

They reached the summit of the hill rather quickly after that, not stopping until they knew they were on completely stable ground, neither wanting to risk a repeat incident.

"Here we go," John sighed as they reached the top, swinging his bag off his back, "This looks like a great spot to stop for a bit."

Hickory let out a little whistle as he also set his bag on the ground, turning in a small circle to take in the views. "It's a mighty nice spot, that's for certain," he hummed, only turning back to John when he heard the tell-tale click of his camera. He snorted a quiet laugh, arching an eyebrow at John as he pulled the photo from the camera and began to wave it in the air. "Whatcha got there?"

"Memories," John stated, a little smile curling his lips as the photo developed.

Hickory felt his heart skip a beat at the look on John's face, before he cleared his throat and stepped over to take a look at the snap shot. It was a bit of an odd angle, obviously taken hastily while Hickory had his back turned, but it was a nice photo all the same. The rolling hills and vast trails stretching out into the distance could be easily seen just past Hickory's shoulder.

"S'not a bad shot," the ex-bounty hunter hummed, reaching for the photo, only to find it disappearing into John's hair to join the previous one.

"Sure is," John said with a cheeky grin, before turning to start pulling a blanket and some food from his bag.

"Cheeky," Hickory laughed, joining John on the blanket once he had it all rolled out.

They ate in relative silence for a bit, simply enjoying each others company and the view, until the camera came back out of John's hair.

"I regret givin' that thing to ya," Hickory snorted after John snapped a photo of him while he was about to take a bite of his sandwich.

"You can't blame me for wanting to document your first camping trip," John said, sticking his tongue out at Hickory, who simply rolled his eyes and continued to eat, "It's a big deal, y'know. You're trying to start fresh, try new things, be a different troll from who you once were. Taking these baby steps, even just going on a camping trip for fun, it's a lot. You said it's something you've never done before, right? You should have something to remember it by."

Hickory stared at John for a long moment, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Why, that's real sweet of you, Johnny." His smile widened into a cheshire grin as as he watched John's cheeks darken at his comment.

"Shut up," John grunted, a smile betraying his grumpy tone as he flicked a small rock at Hickory, who easily dodged it with a laugh.

They finished up their meal while chatting amicably about the trail thus far, with John animatedly regaling Hickory with stories about the first time he came up this way, long before he'd had Rhonda. He admitted it was part of the reason he'd wanted to bring Hickory to this particular spot, as it held a certain amount of nostalgia for him, since it'd been one of the first spots he'd stopped while exploring the trails.

"Ya certainly do got a lot of good memories out here, dontcha?" Hickory hummed as they packed up their bags, a soft little smile on his face as he listened to John hum to himself while retying his bag shut.

"Sure do," John chirped, before pulling the camera from his hair again and walking over to Hickory.

"Aw, what now?" Hickory snorted, somewhat wary of the camera, now that he knew John was going to take every opportunity he could to snap unflattering photos of him.

"Nothing. Come here," John said, turning Hickory so his back was to the view. He opened his mouth to protest as John stole his cowboy hat and set it aside, only to snap it closed as John wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged him down into his shoulder. "There. Plenty of warning this time," John chuckled, cheek practically pressed to Hickory's, "Say 'cheese'!" He held the camera up and the flash went off. Hickory blinked to get ride of the afterimage, rubbing at his eye in mild irritation as John pulled the photo from the camera. "Nice," the teal troll hummed, a warm smile curling his lips. After a moment he offered it to Hickory. "You can have this one, if you want."

Hickory took the photo with mild suspicion, knowing full well the caliber of photo John had been taking thus far, only to be pleasantly surprised by what he saw. John was grinning widely in the photo, his arm blocking the lower left corner of the frame, while Hickory looked a little dazed, with a slightly crooked smile on his own face, and his cheek squished against John's. In the background over John's shoulder the spectacular view from the top of the hill could be seen, with the sunlight speckled across the trees at just the right angle.

Hickory was pulled from his admiration of the photo by John chuckling practically in his ear, just over his shoulder, pack already strapped to his back and bouncing on his toes. "You struck speechless by my excellent photography skills?"

"Somethin' like that," Hickory said with a quiet laugh, carefully tucking the photo into the inside pocket of his vest before scooping his hat up from where John had set it and slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The trek down from the hilltop was far less perilous than the trip up had been. To Hickory's great disappointment, John did not take his hand again once they'd reached the bottom, and in what felt like no time at all, John lead them to what he declared would be their camp site. It was a rather sizeable clearing, with bushes and tall grass most of the way around it, with only two trails leading away from it, aside from the one they'd come down to reach it. John explained that one lead to a little lake they could go swimming in, while the other lead further into the Neverglades.

"Alright," John declared, dropping his pack onto the ground with a thump, "Did you bring a tent?"

Hickory flushed, setting his own bag down more gingerly. "'Fraid not. Not gonna lie, I thought we'd be stayin' with Rhonda," the country troll admitted, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept under the stars, so I'll be just fine."

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he began to unpack his bag, tossing tent pegs and ropes onto the ground in front of him. "Don't be ridiculous. My tent is plenty big enough for two. Besides, you never know what critter might come across camp in the middle of the night. A tent gives us at least a bit of cover."

"Ah," Hickory's brain froze for a moment, the idea of being tucked up close to John in a tent sending a little shiver down his spine. "Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, ducking his head so the brim of his hat would hopefully hide the blush that was yet again creeping across his cheeks, "Yeah, that'd be right as rain."

"Good," John grunted, pulling folded up tent poles from his bag, "Well, since that's settled, how about you start setting up a spot for the fire while I put up the tent?"

"Sure thing," Hickory said with a quick nod, turning to wander around the camp site to pick up some stones to mark a space for a small fire pit. He paused and glanced up when he heard the soft, tell-tale sound of a pile of fabric hitting the ground, fully expecting John to have tossed the tent from his bag, ready to offer his help once again, only to bite his tongue at the realization that it was his jacket that John had tossed aside. The teal troll was busy setting up the tent poles, a little frown of concentration on his face while he worked, completely unaware of Hickory staring at him from across the clearing. "Sugar," Hickory breathed, jerking into motion quickly as John glanced at him from where he was working.

"Hey, how about, after this, we go for a swim."

"A swim?" Hickory echoed, tucking a rock into the small collection in his arm while turning to arch an eyebrow at John, only to nearly drop them all at being presented with John leaning against one of the erected tent poles, a little smirk on his face and sweat beading on his brow.

"Yeah! It's kinda humid today, and setting up this tent is making me sweaty. I think a pre-dinner swim would be nice, don't you?" John said with a little laugh, shoving himself off the pole to start gathering the fabric of the tent up from the ground. "Work up a bit of an appetite before we eat."

Hickory swallowed thickly as John tossed the fabric over the tent frame he'd set up, his brain taking a moment to catch up to what was being said to him. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah, that'd be a right fine idea," he agreed, shaking his head quickly to try and get his mind off of the sweaty, half naked troll across from him. "C'mon, Hickory. Get yer act together," he grumbled to himself, walking to a spot he thought would be good for the fire and dropping his collection of rocks.

"I think you might be too close to the tents."

"Sugar, honey an' iced tea!" Hickory exclaimed, whipping his head in John Dory's direction, who grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. What's got your head in the clouds, anyway?" John asked, propping his hands on his hips and tilting his head at Hickory, reminding the country troll of a particularly adorable cuddle pup.

"Ah, y'know, just , uh, doin' a mental checklist. Tryin' to remember if I brought my swim gear," Hickory offered with an awkward little laugh. "Sorry. What were ya sayin'?"

"Even if you forgot yours, you can always borrow mine. I don't mind swimming in my regular shorts," John offered with an easy smile, "And I was just saying that I think where you're setting up the fire might be too close to the tents."

Hickory looked between where John had most of the tent set up, barring the tent pegs being hammered into the ground, and the pile of rocks he'd dropped on the ground to find that he was, indeed, just a bit too close. One good breeze in the wrong direction could carry embers onto the fabric. "Oh. Beggin' yer pardon," the country troll apologized quickly, bending to pick the rocks back up, "I really was too lost in my own head just then, wasn't I?"

"Hey, happens to the best of us," John laughed, shrugging a bit. "Just move it a bit over there," he gestured vaguely away from the tent, "And it should be fine. I think I saw a decently sized stick over there, too. We can move it into the clearing to sit on later, by the fire."

Hickory nodded, dropping his rocks where John had gestured. "This whole campin' for fun thing is turnin' out to be a lot like campin' for survival," he noted, arching an amused eyebrow at John who snorted and trotted back over to the tent.

"Set up is always a pain. Same with take down. But all of the in between is great," John shot Hickory a charming smile, completely unaware of how it made the ex-bunty hunters heart flutter, before crouching down to hammer in the tent pegs. "Just you wait!"

"Sounds like a plan," Hickory muttered, though he very much doubted he was heard over the sound of the hammer. Which was probably for the best, as he had to shake himself out of staring after the teal troll once again.

In relative short order, Hickory set up his little circle of rocks while John finished up with the tent pegs. He then shoved his way through the brush surrounding the clearing to see about gathering up some wood for the fire they would be building when they got back from swimming. He deposited his selection of twigs, sticks and bark next to his rock circle once he figured he had enough for the night, just as John finished tying off a large tarp above where he'd finished setting up the tent.

"Y'all set?" Hickory asked, trotting up to John as the teal troll wiped his brow with the back of his hand, dislodging his goggles so they sat askew on his head.

"I think so. We're looking pretty good!" John chirped, grinning up at Hickory.

"I'd say so," Hickory agreed easily with a quiet little laugh, reaching out to fix John's crooked goggles. John looked startled by the gesture, Hickory barely catching a glimpse of a dark flush creeping over John's cheeks before the teal troll turned away from him once his hands dropped away. He took a quick step back, watching as John swiftly moved across the campsite to dig into his bag. Intrigued by the reaction, Hickory made a mental note about it for later.

"Did you bring your trunks?" John's voice snapped Hickory back to reality.

"Pretty sure," Hickory hummed, shuffling over to his bag to dig into it and pull out his swim shorts.

"Great! Then get changed, and we'll head down to the water," John said, staring at Hickory expectantly.

Hickory stared right back, slowly arching an eyebrow at the teal troll. "You gonna stare at me the whole time I'm changin', or just for the first little bit?" He snorted quietly as John's face lit up as he turned on his heel to face away from Hickory. The ex-bounty hunter shook his head with a quiet laugh, setting his hat aside and quickly changing into his swim trunks. He then dug into his bag and pulled out the beach towel he'd packed, draping it over his shoulders as he cleared his throat. "All set. You gonna change, too?"

"Nah," John hummed, glancing at Hickory over his shoulder, though he did pull off his goggles and glove to toss them into the tent. "I'm just gonna go as is. These shorts are already sweaty and dirty, may as well sorta wash 'em by swimming with them on."

"All right," Hickory chuckled, stepping up next to John, "Lead the way, then."

And so John did, after grabbing his own towel from his belongings. The path down to the lake was relatively short and straight forward, but John seemed to take pride in leading Hickory around, so he diligently followed along with an indulgent smile on his face. The lake itself was relatively small, as John had already mentioned, but that didn't make it any less picturesque than the rest of the Neverglades had been thus far. The shores were soft slopes of jutting rock and densely packed dirt, surrounded by drooping trees with their branches and leaves barely grazing the water, causing little ripples every time the wind blew. Early evening sunlight was dappled across the surface of the lake, making it sparkle.

"My," Hickory breathed, almost feeling like he shouldn't be there. Like he was intruding on sacred ground.

"It's real pretty, isn't it?" John hummed quietly next to him, "Almost makes you not want to swim."

Hickory opened his mouth to agree with the sentiment, only to jump slightly as John let out a whoop of a shout while tossing his towel aside, before running towards the water. Hickory couldn't contain his laughter as John jumped from the shore as he reached the waters edge, canon balling into the lake with a large splash.

"Well, that's one way to do it, I s'pose," Hickory chuckled to himself, tossing his towel next to John's. He let out a shout of his own once John surfaced further out into the lake, running and tossing himself into the water with gusto. He surfaced to the sound of John's laughter, followed shortly by a splash of water to the face. "Hey now," he laughed, returning the splash blindly, figuring he'd hit his target based on the sound of John sputtering. He wiped water from his face and grinned at finding John coughing and blinking water from his eyes. "That's what ya get for tryin' a sneak attack," Hickory stated, self satisfied smirk on his face.

"I'll show you sneak attack," John grumbled to himself, before launching himself through the water at Hickory with a yell. Hickory let out a startled shout in response, flailing rather uselessly in the water before John tackled him around the chest and dragged him under the surface.

The two tussled in the water like that for some time, with John using any means necessary to try and catch Hickory off guard as they swam back and forth across the lake, waging war with sweeping splashes. Hickory finally called it quits when John tried to use a handful of slimy lake weeds to retaliate against Hickory for managing to dunk him underwater.

"All right, I'm think I'm done," the country troll sighed, pulling an especially long piece of weed from his hair and tossing it aside.

"Aww, but we haven't even been out here that long," John practically pouted, earning a fond smile form Hickory.

"Never said we had to go back. Just that I think the war is over," Hickory hummed, kicking his feet off the bottom of the lake to float on his back. He watched John continue to pout for a minute out of the corner of his eye, before the teal troll began to swim towards the shore. "Where are ya goin'?" he called, turning to tread water with a small frown on his face.

"If you're done," John called back, walking up onto the shore, running fingers through his water logged locks, "I'm gonna work on my canon balls."

Hickory was quite certain that John had no idea the kind of sight he made as he trotted along the lakeside, looking for a good spot to use as a pseudo-diving board. He kept absently running his fingers though his hair, which supplied a steady supply of water droplets that cascaded down over his torso, which Hickory had to fight with every fiber of his being not to watch as they made their way down to the ground. The country troll had never been so happy to be submerged in water as he was just then, letting himself sink so his nose was barely above the surface as he watched John Dory pause at a particularly large rock and nod to himself. The teal troll climbed up onto it and shot Hickory a winning grin once he was at the top, waving enthusiastically, before letting out a bellow and tossing himself into the water. He was completely, stupidly endearing and Hickory knew that if he didn't say something by the end of this trip, he might just go insane.

John continued his cycle of climbing out of the water and jumping enthusiastically back in for some time, Hickory not even noticing that the sun had began to set with how enraptured he was with watching. That was, until the teal troll finally scooped his towel up from the ground instead of running off to his chosen diving rock.

"Hey, it's getting late," John called out to him, gesturing that he should swim to shore, "We should probably go get started on the fire and make some dinner."

"Oh! Right. Dinner," Hickory muttered to himself, before he began to swim back to shore, shivering as he climbed out of the water and a cool breeze swept across the lake.

"C'mon. We'll get a nice big fire going, and get you toasty warm," John said with an easy smile, handing Hickory his towel.

Hickory bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid like 'Or you could warm me up', and instead murmured a quiet thanks as he took his towel and rubbed at his sopping hair.

"I brought some classic camping food," John hummed as he began to lead the way back up to their campsite, Hickory hot on his heels, "Hotdogs to roast over the fire, and marshtatoes for later!"

"Sounds swell," Hickory said with a little nod, draping his towel over his shoulders as they reached the campsite. "By the by, where did ya say that stick was? The one we could use as a bench near the fire?"

"Right! We should move that first," John said as he snapped his fingers, and pointed towards a patch of grass near the tent.

Moving the stick was only a small struggle when they discovered it was actually much larger than they had anticipated, as part of it was buried in the dirt. Luckily, what Hickory lacked in tenting supplies, he made up for in random assorted other items that John, apparently, neglected to bring along. Such as a hatchet. He made rather quick work of hacking into the stick and cutting off the portion John had indicated would make good seating, and if he happened to flex a bit more than he normally would because he caught John watching out of the corner of his eye, well, who could blame him?

The two of them managed to drag the end of the stick over to the little circle of rocks without much trouble after that, and Hickory promptly dropped himself onto it once it was settled where John thought would be the best spot.

"Gonna need to go for another swim, after that," the ex-bounty hunter joked, kicking his feet out in front of himself as John crouched next to the rocks and began to set up the bits of bark Hickory had gathered.

"If there are enough glow flies in the area we can go for a night swim, if you want," John muttered, half distracted as he struck a match and lit the kindling he'd set up. Gently, he blew into the small pile of bark and twigs until the flames began to grow, a proud little smile on his face as he slowly fed twigs into it until it was large enough that he could put a couple of the larger sticks on. Once it seemed like he thought the fire wouldn't need to be babied further he stood with a pop of his knees and a crack of his back, a low groan leaving him as Hickory winced in sympathy.

"That sounded like it hurt," Hickory commented idly as John dropped onto the stick next to him with a grunt.

"Don't get old," John joked, laughing as Hickory shoved him lightly.

"I'll remind ya, since yer memory's apparently goin', that I'm only a few years younger than ya. Yer knees ain't the only ones that make noise when ya stand up," Hickory said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, d'ya really reckon we could go swimmin' at night? Y'don't think that'd be dangerous, with all the critters roamin' around?"

John shrugged, watching the flames as their fire slowly grew. "I mean, I don't see why not. Like I said, there just needs to be enough glow flies so we can see. The stars out here are pretty bright, but it's better if there are glow flies. They're a really good, obvious, first alert system if something is close by."

"Cause they'll fly away," Hickory hummed with a nod, "Smart."

"Yeah. It's something my dad taught me, a long time ago," John sighed wistfully, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees, his gaze distant. Hickory took that as his queue to go and fetch the hotdogs from John's bag, as well as grabbing a couple of sticks from their little stash to spear the hotdogs with.

"Here," Hickory gently nudged John in the shoulder with his own, offering the teal troll one of the sharpened sticks as John visibly blinked himself back into reality.

"Oh! Thanks," John chuckled, gingerly taking the stick from Hickory, "Sorry. Sort of zoned out there. Didn't mean to get so lost in thought."

"It's alright," Hickory said with a small shrug, cutting open the package of hotdogs to spear one on the end of his stick, "Happens to the best of us. Mind if I ask what ya were thinkin' 'about?"

"Just family junk," John offered with a little shrug of his shoulders, taking a hotdog of his own and stabbing it a bit more violently than strictly necessary.

"I assume 'bout yer dad?"

John clicked his tongue, a wry little smile turning the corner of his lips. "Yeah. A bit. More about my brothers, though, I guess. I never did this with any of them," he gestured vaguely at their campsite. "I got to go camping once with my dad, and he taught me loads. But none of my brothers got to. And then things just sort of got crazy out of hand, and I never got to take any of them." He paused, sitting up and shooting Hickory an apologetic smile. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a fun trip, you don't need me babbling about family drama."

"I don't mind," Hickory reassured, gently resting his free hand on John's elbow, "Don't got much family, myself, aside from my older brother, an' that's a whole can a' worms on it's own…But, I don't mind hearin' 'bout other folks family. If ya need someone with a willin' ear, I'm always here."

John turned his head to look at Hickory, his gaze almost searching as his brow furrowed slightly. "That means a lot," he murmured, shifting so he could take the hand on his elbow into his own, entwining their fingers together. "I really…I really like talking to you, Hickory. I know we haven't known each other that long, but you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too, Johnny."

John seemed to think for a moment, watching Hickory intently, before he leaned down to prop his stick between two of the rocks around their fire. He then took Hickory's and did the same with it, before turning sideways on their make-shift bench and taking Hickory's hands in his own. He visibly swallowed, thumbs brushing the backs of Hickory's hands, which sent little shivers up the country's trolls spine.

"You okay, John?" Hickory asked, leaning forward slightly with a concerned frown.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was said so quietly Hickory thought, perhaps, he was hearing things. "Pardon?"

John flushed, his ears drooping slightly as he gave Hickory's hands a little squeeze. "Can I kiss you?" he repeated a little louder, gaze fixed on their hands. "I might've been reading you wrong, but I think…I think you want to kiss me, too? It's okay, if you don't. I won't be offended, and we can pretend this never happened, I just…" He lifted his gaze, letting out a little breath, "I really want to kiss you."

"John Dory," Hickory stated, tugging John's hands closer so the teal troll was forced to lean further towards him, "If ya don't kiss me right this instant, I will be madder than a wet hen."

"Can't have that," John chuckled, before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Hickory's.

It was like pop rocks were poured down Hickory's spine, little tingles igniting what felt like every nerve ending as John shifted closer on their little bench so he could kiss the country troll more deeply. Their hands parted from each other, only to slide into hair and cling to shoulders, earning little shivers and soft sighs each time their lips parted for a moment for air.

"C'mon," John breathed after a time that Hickory's mind could hardly fathom, though the world was distinctly darker than it was before he got lost in John's lips. John stood, a hand outstretched towards Hickory in offering.

Hickory took it without hesitation, letting John lead him to their tent, anticipation twisting in his gut, their dinner and plans of swimming long forgotten.

When Hickory woke the next morning, it was to a tent distinctly devoid of John Dory. Groggily, he rubbed at his face as he sat up and looked around, finding what he assumed was John's silhouette on the outside of the tent, puttering around their campsite. He grunted as he shoved away the blankets he'd gotten tangled up in during the night and somehow managed to locate his pants and belt, tugging them on quickly before he stumbled into the morning light.

"Good morning!" John's voice was chipper and loud, making Hickory cringe slightly as he finger combed his hair.

"Mornin'," the country troll drawled, squinting against the sun until he found his hat and tugged it on, letting out a contented little sigh. He turned to find John Dory hovering over the fire, poking at what appeared to be eggs cooking on top of a flat stone. "Yer up mighty early."

"Habit," John said with a shrug, "Once the sun is up, I'm up."

"Disgusting," Hickory snorted, earning a light laugh from John.

"Yeah, well, can't be helped," John hummed, grabbed a large leaf and scooping one of the eggs from the stone onto it with a knife. "Forgot to bring plates, so you're going to have to deal with eating off a leaf with your fingers."

Hickory took the leaf happily, trotting over to their stick bench and sitting down. "I think I can live with that."

"Good, 'cause there wasn't much in terms of other options," John snorted, taking up his own leaf and egg before knocking the flat rock off the fire and walking over to the stick to sit as well.

They ate their breakfast quietly, John staring off into the fire, while Hickory let his eyes drift shut, smiling slightly to himself as he let the early morning sounds of the forest wash over him. He felt peaceful and calm, a warm little ember in his chest growing steadily at the knowledge that the troll his heart chose to beat wildly for was sat next to him and felt the same. Or, so he assumed.

"Hickory," John's quiet but serious tone shattered the tranquility of the forest, and drew Hickory from his revere. He blinked and turned his gaze towards John, who was still staring intently into the fire.

"What is it?"

"About last night…"

Hickory frowned, his posture stiffening at the words John spoke. He had to force his fingers to not tremble around the leaf he held. "What about it?"

"It doesn't-…Look, I know I dragged you all the way out here, and I'm your only way home, so just in case," John rambled, speaking without taking a breath, "It doesn't have to mean anything. We don't…If you felt obligated, I'm sorry. We can pretend nothing happened and go home right now, if you want."

Hickory stared John down, absentmindedly crushing the leaf in his hands. "Ya think I'd feel obligated to sleep with ya, just because we're out in the woods?"

"I mean," John flushed, looking up at Hickory, anxiety clear as day on his face, "…maybe?"

"I would sooner stab any troll that tried somethin' that I didn't want, then go willingly off to their tent," Hickory practically growled, before taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, listening as John shifted and squirmed on the stick next to him. "I ain't mad," he said after a beat, letting out another breath.

"You sound like it."

"Only 'cause you implied I was easy."

"Sorry."

Hickory opened his eyes, taking one last deep breath in, before turning his gaze to John once again, arching an eyebrow at finding the teal troll practically curled in on himself in his seat. "This been buggin' ya for a while?"

"I couldn't sleep," John admitted, and upon closer inspection Hickory could see the bags under John's eyes.

Hickory sighed quietly, letting his irritation slowly seep out of him. He reached out, his heart twisting as John flinched slightly at the movement. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he reassured, gently taking one of John's hands in his own, "I'd never hurt ya. John…I was so happy, last night, when ya said ya wanted to kiss me. I've been wantin' to do that for quite a while. Just didn't quite know how to go about sayin' anythin'. I like you, John Dory. A whole lot."

John's posture loosened as Hickory spoke, his hunched position straightening as he unconsciously leaned in towards the country troll. "Really?" he breathed, and Hickory could almost describe his expression as being starstruck.

"I don't have a tendency to say things I don't mean."

Hickory let a crooked little smile settle on his face as John slowly shifted closer to him, turning slightly so he could wrap both of his hands around Hickory's. "I'm so sorry. For thinking I'd taken advantage of you. For implying you would do anything you didn't feel comfortable with. I just thought that, if you didn't want it, or felt bad for me or something-"

Hickory cut him off with a snort of a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Why on this green earth do you think I would feel bad for ya?"

John blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Uh…'cause I'm a washed up ex-boyband member with a laundry list of family trauma issues and no friends?"

"Who's also mighty handsome, talented, a skilled survivalist, and who seems to be completely blind to the admirers that watch 'im every time he goes to the market?"

"…You think I'm handsome?"

"Not the take away ya should be focusing on here, Johnny," Hickory snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry. Go on."

Hickory chuckled, cupping John's cheek in his free hand. "You think pretty little of yerself, an' that's a real shame. I wish ya could see yerself the way I do."

"And how's that?"

"Like a shootin' star in the night sky. So beautiful an' bright, but burnin' out so fast most folks can't appreciate ya for yer true magnificence," Hickory hummed, enjoying the way John's cheeks darkened, just before he gently tugged the teal troll into a kiss.

They parted with a quiet gasp between the two of them, John looking a bit dazed.

"So…you're my boyfriend now, right?" John asked bluntly after a beat, earning a surprised burst of laughter from Hickory.

"You bet yer bottom dollar, playboy."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls world tour #trolls hickory #trolls john dory #hickdory #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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