#john and Branch are also going through it

[ryssbelle]

N2 Floyd in the first movie

Sad little man got himself captured :(

He also gets punched in the face, but that's neither here nor there lmao

Also sorry for not posting for a fat minute I've been busy XD

Bonus: What John and Branch be doing

RIP in pieces John Dory, you were a brave troll and will be missed

I've got some more doodles of them going through it in the first movie, maybe we will see them soon teehee .

#my art #trolls au #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls branch #trolls oc #n2 au #not the only one au #ye floyd is singing that song from DBH #its a good song #and he also cant hue shift cuz depression and stress #that little sketch of bridget was the first time ive drawn her #shes so freaking cute #she reminds me of my aunt #also someone seems to recognize floyds little angry face #i wonder why #hehe #i say having out the reason why in the picture #john and Branch are also going through it #cuz in the dream this originates from jd legit tried to throw hands with a whole ass bergen #and loses obviously but he tried and thats all that matters #branch is just losing brothers by the second #hes obvi gonna assume Floyds already dead and then JD is family guy death posing in front of him #but he still goes out to help poppy #cuz john asked and hes also in love with poppy so he wouldve gone eventually either way #and he doesnt want floyd to get left behind 🥺 #like a certain green someone hehe

[aliceramblez]

Dating The BroZone Brothers 🎤🎶

Tags: Gender-neutral reader, Fluff, Some Angst (mostly for Branch lol), Also Broppy isn't canon here, obviously. But I love them dearly so don't come at me!

Follow me @taruchinator for more structured content and/or feel free to leave a request here in asks. Enjoy!

John Dory

We all know this man is a bit self-centered, and that doesn't stop at your relationship.

He'll find any opportunity to show off for you— anything from singing, to dancing, to just his ‘incredible leadership skills that make him the perfect boyfriend!’

He also definitely introduced himself as a member of the old boy band BroZone, which you may or may not have heard of, which may or may not have left him flabbergasted.

Despite all his faults though, John Dory will do his best to be a good partner for you. It's what you deserve, after all!

Keeping you safe from wild creatures, making sure you're always happy because he loves your smile, and also being the overprotective boyfriend who'll square off against anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable even if they're 10x his size.

Small detail, but he also loves the fact that Rhonda took a liking to you instantly.

“She knows how to pick the good ones,” he'd say with a wink.

Talks about his brothers CONSTANTLY, but always in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't care and that it's their fault the band broke up in the first place. He obviously really cares about them, though.

Some nights, he'll reflect and regret all the stuff he said and did to them, and wishes he could go back and make it right. You reassure him through most of it, trying to convince him that he was young and just didn't know any better.

He stares at you in awe and disbelief because how could ANYONE think that what he did was justifiable? Abandoning his younger siblings all because of his stupid ego and personal insecurities.

“I really don't deserve you...”

Give him some time he's just emotionally constipated.

Also you BET he's gonna show you off to his brothers once they're reunited, so just let him. He just wants the most important people in his life to meet.

You can also expect them to try and embarrass John Dory with stories from their childhood, so be ready to have a good laugh as your boyfriend plots for murder in the background.

Spruce/Bruce

Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.

He is a family man, after all.

Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute, it really is! But that just indicates that he has a way with children.

If you have a child or younger sibling, expect them to get dotted and taken care of to DEATH by this man.

He may not have been the sensitive one of the group, but was definitely the most reliable of the eldest, so he's got experience handling little trouble makers that come his way.

He still opens a cantina in Vacay Island, which is where you two met for the first time, and so you help run it occasionally whenever you have the chance. And even though you don't go there 24/7, all the regulars just think that you're the co-owner since you're dating Bruce.

You're the one who finds out that he's actually ‘Spruce’, the member of old boy band BroZone. You just happened to stumble upon an old record he kept in his room, and after confronting him about it, he reluctantly confirms your suspicions.

It was hard to recognize him since he was much older now and his body had definitely... grown over the years.

Bruce doesn't like preaching about those days, since he's quite embarrassed of the ‘immature ladies man’ he used to be back then.

But he won't deprive you of them either, since he'll happily share any stories on his misadventures with his brothers, funny backstage incidents, etc.

He misses them dearly and wishes they're all doing okay.

Two words: Hopeless. Romantic.

He's ‘The Heart Throb’ for a reason.

Roses, chocolates, dances— he can do it all!

Bruce will always make time in his busy schedule to spend time with you, taking you on dates to your favorite spots around the island, getting you meaningful gifts, and just overall expressing his love for you in any way he can.

He loves singing to you because it always serenades you and it puts a smile on his face.

People always joke that he's going to propose to you out of the blue one of these days, which always leaves him a flustered mess, but he never denies either.

“What can I say? I might be waiting for the perfect opportunity...”

Clay

Poor baby doesn't know what he's doing but he's trying, okay?

The two of you meet in the abandoned Bergen Golf Course, where you and Viva welcome him with open arms, and everything pretty much plays as in the movie, except that he really likes spending time with you and ONLY you, which he doesn't quite understand?

You're the one to ask him out cause otherwise you'd be playing this back and forth forever. He says yes.

He's never had a partner before, so he's justifiably worried that he'll mess up in some way, or that you'll end up finding him too boring after a while.

This becomes much more apparent after a particular bad night, in which after mumbling incoherently because of a nightmare, you find out that he has brothers and used to be in a boy band.

He doesn't open up about it at first, so you give him some space and reassure him that you'll be there when he needs you. Just give him some time and he'll tell you eventually.

He talks about how he could never be himself, since he was always expected to be ‘The Fun One’, and now he's basically tried to become the complete opposite in hopes of gaining some control over his life.

But he also worries that others will think he's too dull, and that he just isn't interesting enough to be around. Especially you.

You immediately take his face in your hands and look him in the eyes.

“I fell in love with Clay. Not ‘The Fun Troll from BroZone’ Clay. Also, you're fun in your own way!”

He basically falls for you all over again after hearing this.

After that, he becomes slightly less uptight and allows himself to enjoy the little things. You sometimes actually catch him dancing when he thinks no one's looking and you find it's the most adorable thing in the world, even after he realizes he's not alone and wants the earth to swallow him whole.

“Don't mind me, I'mma just crawl in a hole for a while...”

“No, no- Babe, it was amazing! I loved it! Pleaseeee show me more!”

Overall, he's a pretty good boyfriend all things considered.

He's incredibly overprotective of you, and will always give you advice and tools he thinks will be helpful if you're thinking of venturing outside of the Golf Course.

He asks Viva for dating advice CONSTANTLY and she DOES NOT let him live it down. Of course she has good ideas, though.

He'll pretty much do anything for you, even if it means going out of his comfort zone.

Floyd

Another great candidate for being in a good relationship.

Need I explain myself with this man?

His entire personality revolves around being caring and understanding, so he's definitely always on the lookout for anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable and will fix it ASAP.

Floyd is the kind of person who will ask for consent with pretty much anything you do— from holding your hand, to kissing you, to giving you a hug; he will ALWAYS make sure that you're okay with it even if you've given him the green light in the past.

He's not huge on PDA due to his somewhat shy nature, but if you are, he'll try his best to keep up with you.

This doesn't mean he dislikes physical affection, in fact it's his love language. He'll go out of his way to try and sneak in as many hugs as possible throughout the day and maybe a kiss or two if you'll allow it, which of course you do.

You also try your best to get involved in his own interests, because that's only fair after everything he does for you.

It isn't until one day that he sings for you that you compliment him and he nonchalantly comments that he used to be in a band when he was a teenager.

Cue the reveal of him having four brothers and you begging him to tell you all about them.

Which he does, but you can't help but notice the melancholic expression on his face, so you immediately stop him and apologize for being pushy on the matter and that he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to talk about.

He only looks at you with a small smile and shakes his head.

“No, I'm glad you asked. I haven't talked about them in years, so I like remembering the good times, even if they're in the past now.”

So he'll go on and on about them, one by one, and go into excruciating detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. He's especially fond of his little brother Branch, based on everything he tells you.

When he gets kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer, you immediately go to Branch for help.

Once you're reunited, you two basically run to each other and hug with tears streaming down your eyes.

“Did they hurt you?!”

“No, I'm okay! Did they hurt you?!”

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

Floyd is then incredibly happy to introduce you to his brothers, who begin to affectionately tease him about getting himself a partner and you happily step in to protect him from any unwanted bullying.

You also tell him that you like the new hairdo, which only causes him to giggle and kiss your forehead affectionately.

Honestly you guys probably have the healthiest relationship out of the whole group.

Branch

I was really debating whether to include him or not since there's many Branch Reader Inserts out there, but I don't wanna leave my baby out so here we are!

You have a classic childhood friends to lovers situation with him, since you've known him ever since he was a member of BroZone, only being about a year older than him.

You'd help him practice for his concerts and would always give him pep talks whenever he felt worried that he'd ruin the show.

You're basically his number one fan— never missing a concert even if it meant dragging your parents with you so they'd let you get in.

The moment the group disbands and Branch is left all alone, you're there for him and wait alongside him for his brothers to return, reassuring him that ‘siblings would never break a promise’.

Cue his whole childhood trauma and him losing his colors, but it's only because of you that he doesn't completely isolate himself from society. He still builds his bunker though, since he's pretty much scarred for life thanks to the Bergens.

Just like with Clay, you're the one who takes initiative and asks him out, and he's just left gaping like a fish because why would you want someone like HIM?

After reuniting with John Dory, he's also dotting you about how big you've gotten and treats you like a baby, which actually irks Branch much more than it does to him.

He makes sure to remind his brothers that you both are grown adults, thank you very much.

Once the band gets back together, you kinda become a manager of some kind and help them in organizing their performances. Branch is eternally grateful and thanks you for staying by his side all these years.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls spruce #trolls floyd #trolls x reader #trolls reader inserts #branch x reader #john dory x reader #clay x reader #spruce x reader #floyd x reader #fanfic

[calamarieater]

Daves ENTIRE PERSONALITY revolved around being just like Bro he never had the time to develop his own personality because from day ONE he wanted to be JUST like Bro he thought Bro was so cool to the point where he even ignored the abuse and just considered it normal, it's so common in abusive households for the abused kids to want to be JUST like their abusers because they've never seen like a normal household, and like most kids you tend to look up to your parents, which is what Dave was doing. Daves entire personality all his interests like everything were branched off from what Bro liked, he never got into things that Bro DIDNT like the only thing he didn't like was Bros puppets but dave wanted to be JUST like Bro he looked UP to him and people seem to completely ignore Bros abuse because of how dave reacted to it but ? what Bro does is still abuse and often when kids are introduced to abuse early in life they dont know that its abuse and they consider it normal which is why Dave reacted the way he did because he WASNT AWARE THAT IT WAS ABUSE WHICH IS NORMAL IN ABUSIVE HOUSEHOLDS AND ABUSED KIDS OFTEN THINK LIKE THAT which is why it comes off as such a SHOCK when you tell a kid they're being abused and whats going on isn’t normal and it seems like most of the fandom just ignores Daves abuse and everything and the fact that he never really developed his own personality until later on just because of the fact that he never really reacted or talked about it which annoys me SO badly I get its like hard to understand what abused kids are like and their bebehavior and stuff but!! you gotta understand like all his interests and everything came from Bro, his entire life until Sburb he wanted to be just like Bro he looked up to Bro so much to the point the abuse wasn't even something he considered abnormal because he thought Bro was just trying to help him be stronger and have a better reaction time or whatever but that's not what was going on and dave didn't know because he hadn't ever seen a normal household/this was his entire life this is what was normal to him so he considered it normal even compared to his friends lives, especially considering all the kids have semi abnormal lives other than john for the most part so dave was just convinced his life was normal because it was what he was used to and his friends also had odd home lives so he was just convinced that his life was the same gah I love Dave. I just think people should TRY and understand Dave’s character more, and it also just irks me how people see him as some flirty dude when thats not how he is, hes a wannabe cool-kid who has no idea how to behave and just mimics his Bros behavior!!! He WANTS TO BE JUST LIKE HIS BRO!!! HE SPENDS SO MUCH TIME TALKING ABOUT HOW COOL HE THINKS HIS BRO IS and you guys i swear he would NOT be a flirty little shit. He lives for bickering so he can come up with cool comebacks so people think “Wow this guy is REALLY fucking cool” when they're talking to him. So many of you guys seem to forget hes 13 in the beginning, his behavior is just a direct copy of how he saw Bro. He did not develop his own personality until later in life, and even then he still had a lot of Bros traits. Most kids dealing with abuse dont even know that its abuse until way late in life, because again, ITS ALL THEY KNOW!! If you lived your entire life not knowing what you were going through was abnormal, or even unhealthy, you would consider it as “the usual” WHICH IS WHY DAVE NEVER HAD A BIG REACTION TO IT, BECAUSE HE WAS SO USED TO IT. HE DIDNT KNOW IT WASNT NORMAL. Dave was a 13 year old boy dealing with an abusive father figure. From his interests to his personality, he just wanted to be like bro. that's all he wanted.

But, towards the end of his arc, we DO see him start to turn away from that desire to be like bro. We see him slowly realize, he isnt like bro. He doesnt want to be like bro. He isn't a "hero" like bro was, he doesnt WANT to be like bro was. But his entire childhood circled around being like bro, and it wasnt until bro died that he finally realized that wasn't what he wanted. But, as it wasn't until late in his life that he realized, he wasnt really able to form his own personality.

In conclusion: Dave is NOT some coolkid flirty boy, hes an abused child with no personality of his own. He is so much more than most of you guys let him be, and its so irritating to me.

#calamarichat #daveposting #dave strider #bro strider #homestuck dave #homestuck #dave rambling #homestuck rambles #dave understander #homestuck bro #homestuck analysis #dave strider analysis

[floydira]

₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ

brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.

note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.

☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE

John Dory

erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...

BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.

so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.

when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"

if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.

if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).

In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...

at least, he's got the spirit!

Spruce/Bruce

this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.

if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.

once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.

while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.

lets you know that what you're going through is valid.

once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.

Clay

he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.

he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???

if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.

if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)

his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.

he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.

Floyd

he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.

I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.

his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.

he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.

this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).

he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.

he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.

he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.

will cry with you tbh.

he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.

Branch

branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.

so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.

he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.

he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.

If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.

"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"

once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.

he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.

afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.

━━━━━━━━━━

Creek

as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.

just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.

he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.

tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.

he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.

King Trollex

this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.

he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.

"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.

will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.

Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.

keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.

"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.

the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.

#trolls world tour #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls 2 #trolls 3 #dreamwork trolls #trolls x reader #trolls world tour x reader #trolls band together x reader #brozone #trolls brozone #brozone x reader #john dory x reader #spruce x reader #bruce x reader #clay x reader #floyd x reader #branch x reader #creek x reader #trollex x reader #king trollex #x reader

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

CAT-EYES

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

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

WORDCOUNT: 13.3k

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

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

You were sitting in the branches again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until it speaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could outrun him.

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

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

Your lips twitch. 

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

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

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

The boar broach winks at you.

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

“Just Johnny—”

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

Blue eyes widen, sure feet faltering. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure,” you puff a laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...What was that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Find him!”

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

“Here!”

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

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

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

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

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

You blink, confused. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your sharp eyes hone in, unwavering in its heat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your thin lips tell him all he needs to know. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown, gut swirling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted that damn boar broach. 

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No family?”

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

The man grunts. “M’sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I supposed to be insulted or not?” 

“I leave that for you to decide.”

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

Your face softens slightly. 

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

And you don’t understand why.

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

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

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

“You called me strange.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you’re not stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tears slip from over your cheeks.

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

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

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

“Just make it quick.”

John’s lips thin. “Yes, Ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Free, free, free. 

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

Wasn’t it? 

Your eyes slip to Johnny.

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

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

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

You knew you were a selfish person. 

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

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

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

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

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

Your lips are near his ear.

“When I say ‘go,’ run to the left.”

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

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

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

Your attention is split three ways.

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

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

They take a step forward. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That one?”

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, of course, follow directions. 

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

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

“I know I am.” You huff, smiling. 

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

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

He’d called you Cat-Eyes. 

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

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

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

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

“Seems so, Cat-Eyes.”

Your matching glares hold no venom. 

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

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

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

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

Your head tilts, eyes narrowing. 

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

A just Lord and a cunning thief.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t say no to that.”

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

Johnny hands over his boar broach to the doctor. 

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

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

Your eyes inexplicably snap to Johnny. 

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

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

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

Or maybe there was a reason. 

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

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

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

Maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always a thief, never a saint.

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

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

You lick your lips. 

“Do one thing for me, hm?”

“Anything,” John mutters, not blinking. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not yet.

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

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

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

And then you’re gone. 

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

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

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

Yet, his hands touch something far more precious. 

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

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

“What in the…” He already knows. 

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

John smiles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[biteofcherry]

Yours to have

Bad Moon Rising Masterlist

Alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

summary: It's the ceremony of your mating with Ari.

warnings: mystical vibes of ancient rituals; a/b/o dynamics; a pinch of exhibitionism; slight breeding kink; primal kink; shifters; shifter!Ari; wolf!Ari; shifter!Reader; no bestiality

word count: 5.4k

Author's Note: This is a tad different take on the usual claiming/biting in the a/b/o universe. The magic is more at play here in forming the mating bond, not the actual biting. As you read, you'll understand what exactly I changed about it and why. Also, a person called godi appears in this piece. The title of godi refers to a priest/ess of old pagan religions, leading mystical rituals (it's mostly Old Norse origin, but here it's simply used as a term to name the pack's sort of priestess).

The little sip of black currant liqueur you took before all the guests gathered in the wide, unfenced backyard didn’t help easing the tempo of your heart rate, as you finally took a step outside. 

The silvery sphere of the full moon rose above the treetops, crowned in a gold and reddish halo as if the goddess herself knew of the special celebration about to take place. 

Both packs were present - or you should say one pack, as now your people were merged into one under the rule of Ari. People stood to the sides, making a wide path for you to cross toward the arch weaved of evergreen branches, where your future mate awaited along with the pack’s godi. 

It was the redhead who stole curious glances your way ever since Ari’s pack started mingling with yours. What you saw at first as some sort of jealousy, because Ari kept his claim on you known right away, relentlessly so, turned out to be mere curiosity. Perhaps also a mystical knowledge, which a godi was supposed to possess. 

Her name was Alara and she was going to lead the ceremony of your mating. 

Times were modern, shifters tended to bind themselves in very human-style weddings, but the Alpha had to honor old traditions. Especially if he chose to mate with an Omega. It was a stereotype as old as time and as such was expected to follow the ancient traditions. 

In the weeks leading to the ceremony you spent some time with Alara, who taught you every step of the ceremony. It wasn't common knowledge, though there were parts of it passed on through generations via spoken tales. Like you were aware of the fact the ceremony had two phases and only a very few, selected shifters would be present for the second part.

The rather primal part. 

Tiredness should weigh on your tense body, since you woke before dawn, but the anticipation and shot of excitement kept you fully energized. The early morning was part of tradition, as well. You walked into the woods with the first rays of sun to gather greens for the wreaths you were going to weave for yourself and your mate. 

Mugwort, chamomile, wild ferns, St. John’s wort and a few twigs of juniper. You wore yours on your head as you slowly crossed through the backyard. In your hands you carried the twin wreath for Ari. 

You were going to crown him with it, as a symbol of you choosing him to be yours. Later, when the second part of the ceremony started, he would take yours off of your head, as a symbol of taking your nonexistent virginity. 

It was laughable, if you were cynically honest. Neither did you choose Ari, not really, nor were you a virgin. Not for a long time. 

Something that Ari didn’t seem to care about. 

Like he didn’t care that you were much older than overly fertile young women he could have chosen from. A small part of you found it quite pleasing, that he didn’t chase after girls half his age, but voiced his interest in you - someone who was merely a few years younger than him. 

You walked barefoot, your simple white dress flowing around your ankles. It was no point in buying an actual, elegant wedding dress, considering you wouldn’t be wearing it for long once you got to the second part of the ceremony. 

You wore no undergarments either. 

You didn’t think Ari’s aware of that fact, but the way his gaze slid up your body as you approached him suggested he might be.

Then his eyes settled on your face and a certain lightness seemed to turn his irises aglow. There was seriousness and respect for the traditions carved onto his handsome face, but his mouth curved at the corners slightly, soothing and encouraging you.

Ari was barefoot, just like you; wearing elegant, linen pants and white shirt that was buttoned only halfway up. 

It was so characteristic of him, you noticed. Over the weeks leading to your mating you’ve had enough opportunities to spend time with Ari - usually not out of your own volition, but because he was crossing into your space and inviting himself over. And most of the time at least two top buttons of his shirts were undone.

You wondered if it was some poor style choice, or if he ran so hot that he needed them unbuttoned.

Those thoughts invited others, more brazen. If he’d walk around the house without a shirt? If he slept naked? Questions you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care for, but which you’d very soon learn the answers to.

You stopped in front of Ari, lifting the wreath in your hands for him to admire. When he bowed his head, you put it on him. A startling flutter to your heart sprinkled warmth through your limbs as you looked at him crowned with a wreath you weaved. 

Lanterns cast amber glow across your bodies as you placed your hands in Ari’s. It was neither their warmth, nor the evening’s sweet dispersing incalescence, but a simmer of heat ignited in your belly when you touched him. 

Ever since he marked you with his cum, feeding you a dollop of it, it seemed your body attuned to his closeness with growing hunger. 

You tried not to imagine how worse it could get once he fully claimed you. 

Alara bound your hands with colorful ribbons; each for a different vow you spoke. Then she lifted an ornamental chalice, filled with sweetly smelling mead and a pinch of herbs. 

With your hands bound, both you and Ari carefully took the chalice. He lifted it to your lips first. Pleasant thickness of it coated your tongue and slid down your throat, leaving a burning sensation that only spurred the fire in your belly. 

In the books regarding mating ceremonies you read about a particular ingredient that used to be added to wine or mead for the bride to drink. According to Alara that hasn’t been done in at least a century and you really hoped she was truthful. It would be really disgusting if you were made to drink Ari’s cum in front of everyone, even if it was only a splash of it. 

Apparently it used to be added to strengthen the bride’s desire for her mate. 

You knew it would work. You still remembered how your body responded to the taste of Ari when he caught you. 

You tipped the chalice slightly when it was Ari’s turn to take a sip; his eyes a glowing blue that seared through you as he held your gaze over the rim. 

With your hands still bound, Ari pulled you forward. He took your mouth in a bold kiss that burned stronger than the rich alcohol you just consumed. Loud cheers resounded around, but were faded compared to the pounding of your own blood rushing through vessels as you melted under the demand of Ari’s lips. 

There was amusement and giggles as you and Ari worked your hands free of the bindings. No scissors or claws could be used to cut through them, you had to work the knots together. Then the bundle of colorful ribbons was placed in a small, carved box. 

You gasped in surprise - the sound dispersing on your palate - when Ari kissed you again. 

Hands completely free, he grabbed you fully, dipping you backwards as his tongue dipped between your lips. The chorus of applause included a few howls. 

You felt a little dizzy (and a lot hot) when Ari pulled back. If not for his arm loosely wrapped around your middle, you may have swayed. Eyes glazed, though you weren’t certain if it was due to the potent mead, or the reality of mating Ari hitting you suddenly; you stared up at him. 

With the spark in his iridescent irises, you sensed he was equally excited for the next part as you were terrified of it. 

But your fear didn’t make you flee; not this time, at least. It was that kind of fear that lured to follow into the darkness and experience the thrill of being consumed. Curiosity and apprehension combined into an addictive kind of sensation. 

Was it why you felt that spark of arousal whenever you ran away and Ari gave chase? 

The first thought making you run could be of rebellion, of trying to free yourself of the Alpha’s clutches. But the chase made it into heady titillation. 

The unknown of the mystical, sacred part of the ceremony spiked that fear, but the aspect of doing it with Ari - whatever raw, dirty act it would be - heated your body in anticipation. 

Alara addressed the gathered people, calling upon them to feast in joy for your union. Then she took one of the lanterns and led a small procession deep into the woods. Five other shifters fell into step behind her - three of Ari’s pack and two of yours. Chosen for their hierarchy in the pack, they were granted great honor to be witnesses to the second part of the ceremony. 

Though you briefly wondered, if Dante wasn’t asked to do it also as some sort of twisted power play. He was a member of your old pack and it seemed Ari respected his knowledge, experience and dedication to protect people. However, there was no doubt Ari would have learned that you and Dante used to date. 

It ended more than three years ago, the two of you remaining somewhat friendly if distanced. But male shifters tended to be extremely possessive. Ari was borderline so. It wouldn’t surprise you if the honor to participate in your ceremony wasn’t also Ari’s way of emasculating Dante in case he harbored any lustful thoughts of you. 

Ari’s fingers intertwined with yours as you followed Alara through the darkness of the woods. The lantern was merely symbolic, as your shifter senses allowed all of you to move through the night quite easily. 

When you reached a wide clearing, the five shifters spread around, taking positions in a spread semi-circle. Alara led you forward to the middle of the meadow where a few items had been prepared in advance. 

“You shall undress each other, so the Moon can bathe  you in her glow,” Alara’s voice was soft and melodic, her lips curved in a gentle smile, but her eyes were sharp and wild. Gold swirls painted on her face seemed to pulse with life.

Breath hitched in your throat when Ari’s hands smoothed along your shoulders, the straps of your dress easily giving in as he pushed them off. Leaning close, he reached behind you and unzipped the short zipper of your dress, then pulled the delicate fabric off your body. 

Trying not to think of being completely naked in front of him - and in front of five other shifters! - you unbuttoned his shirt, one small button after another. Your fingers itched to explore the expanse of Ari’s chest, but you stifled that craving and managed to touch as little of his skin as possible as you pushed the shirt off his shoulders. 

Staring at his chest, you popped the button of his pants open and lowered the zipper. You couldn’t make yourself look Ari into the eyes, fearing to see the heat in them and perhaps a sense of dark, lustful victory. 

It was better not to peek down, too. The glimpse of Ari’s cock you got when he came all over you after he caught you in the woods was enough of torment in the past few weeks; tempting your body into overdrive as you dreamt of it. 

You stepped away from the pile of clothes and faced each other. Heart pounding in your chest, you finally lifted your gaze to Ari’s face. Without Alara’s prompting, as if he knew each step of the ceremony by heart, Ari took off his wreath and placed it at godi’s feet. 

Then he reached for your wreath. In a slow, gentle move, he took it off. 

It was only a symbol, one you previously rolled your eyes at, but the moment Ari’s fingers gripped the green weaves and deprived you of them, a light, pleasant sting pierced your core. 

Your wreath was offered at Alara’s feet as well; the godi served as a conduit of the Moon goddess. 

“Shift.” The command was simple, unyielding enough that you didn’t protest, even though you were surprised by it.

When Alara taught you stages of the ceremony, she didn’t mention letting your wolf out. You hesitated only a few seconds, before you gave in to the pull itching beneath your skin. For a split of a second you got to admire Ari’s wolf with your human eyes, then you were seeing him through your wolf’s. 

You were a streak of silver, light coloring that some of your former partners expressed to be the moonlight itself crushed into fur. Though you weren’t the smallest of wolves, placing yourself as rather average among shifters, you seemed tiny compared to Ari’s wolf. 

Your Alpha was a beast of fairy tales. So big and domineering. His thick fur was a spectrum of bronze, with some streaks glinting gold, some reddish, the tip of his tail as dark as black. 

In that moment it hit you how perfect of a predator he was. As a human you noticed his scent that blended him so easily with the forest - pine and moss and resin. His wolf form blended into the woods even deeper, allowing him to gain the upper hand in any season, any part of the land. 

Ari’s paw dug into soil as he made a move toward you. Something flicked through your hindbrain, or perhaps it was your human side all along, but you suddenly felt the need to bolt. 

To tease him, maybe. Or perhaps you couldn’t suppress that remnant of rebellion against this union.

Your wolf barely managed to turn around and start forward when Ari leaped. The massive wolf crushed you to the ground, your wolf yipping as he trapped you beneath him. Then his jaw locked on your neck, sharp teeth piercing enough to be a warning. 

A shudder rippled through you, your head dropping down in submission. Ari snarled and for a moment you found yourself scrambling to understand what he wanted. But your wolf knew. With another pitiful yip she went lax, surrendering completely. A lick of approval soothed the spot where his fangs nipped you.

Slowly, Ari eased back. You remained in your position, not daring yet to move. Then suddenly a low growl of his reverberated through your bones.

It yanked on that shifter thread inside you, forcing an immediate shift. 

Never before had anything like it happened, it was always your own volition to change into wolf form and back into human. And Ari just proved to you how much power he held. 

Alphas supposedly possessed that ability - to force any shifter into immediate change, but you never saw Dimitri do it to anyone. You didn’t think Ari’s done it to scare you, or belittle you in any way, rather you felt it as his help to guide you into the next step of the ceremony. 

Yet it still elicited a scary realization, how truly he could overpower you. If you ever ran away in your wolf form, he could command your immediate shift into human and gain more advantage. 

Ari gently helped you up onto your feet, having shifted into human form himself. The care and respect he showed contrasted with the display of raw power. 

Your gaze shifted to Alara, a glint of offense at not being prepared for that part of the proceedings. She only smiled as she beckoned the two of you closer.

“The wolf’s submission had to be natural, had to be earned,” she explained. “If I warned you of it, then it could provoke you to either fake it, or fight it just out of spite.”

You wouldn’t tell her that you felt your wolf submit to Ari weeks ago, when he tackled you to the ground after chasing you through the woods. The bitch gave in then. 

Alara picked a bowl filled with sweet scented mixture. Linden honey, cloves, lovage and crushed cranberries for the red color. She lifted it up to the sky, muttering a string of blessings, or spells, or whatever curse. Then she lowered it towards Ari. 

“Under the Moon’s keen eye, brand what’s yours to have.” 

She held the bowl as Ari dipped his hand in the mixture. He marked a spot on your temple first. Then smeared the honey across your mouth. Your lips parted, letting the sweet taste in. And letting a little gasp out when Ari’s hand left streaks of sticky concoction across your breasts.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Ari’s eyes when he dipped both his hands for more mixture and then splayed one on your ass and his other palm over your abdomen. 

He crouched down to better drive his fingers up the inside of your thigh and then along the juncture in your hip, before ending the sweet swirl in the thatch of your hair right above your softly pulsing clit. 

Each streak he painted on your naked body seemed to seep into your skin and feed to the fire already burning you with need. 

A thought to chase Ari’s fingers with your mouth, to suck them clean so he could slip them into your wet pussy, flashed in your mind. It was Alara’s voice addressing you that stopped you from making a fool of yourself. 

“Under the Moon’s keen eye, brand what’s yours to have.” She tipped the bowl your way. 

Fingers dripping with red stained honey, you reached up to touch Ari’s temple. When you brushed your fingertips across his mouth, you almost pouted in disappointment he didn’t nip at any of your digits. 

Focusing on regulating your breath, so you didn’t pant, you used both of your hands to mark Ari’s huge biceps. Then, just because you were getting needy and annoyed with yourself because of that, you scratched his chest a bit as you smeared the mixture across his pectorals. 

Perhaps you saw it in the way Ari’s eyes darkened, or maybe it was already the bond building between the two of you, but you felt certain that he liked when you scratched him. 

Your eyes followed the line your fingers drew along the thatch of hair leading down Ari’s belly and lower. Scooping more honey from the bowl, you knelt at Ari’s feet and dragged both hands up his muscular legs, until you gripped his ass.

Your breath quickened as you stared at the half-hard cock rising toward Ari’s belly. Slowly, you swiped your hands from the back of his thighs to the front, using all of your melting will to not taste him right away.

Instead, you boldly looked up. Ari’s pupils were blown wide as he stared at you - on your knees, lips inches away from his cock, about to mark it as a part of him for you to have. Holding his gaze, you wrapped your fingers around him. 

If it wasn’t for Ari’s self restraint, you probably would follow the instinct, the hunger tempting you to move your hand and start what would inevitably happen in a few minutes anyway. After all, sex was the culmination of the ceremony. But Ari’s own fingers gently caught your wrist. 

He helped you up. Again that night. 

For as amused as she had to be, Alara didn’t spare you a knowing, mocking look. She put the bowl away and picked another dish. This one a simple terracotta pot, bearing marks of time. 

“For Nature, the Mother of us all,” Alara intoned, “make a pledge to the earth to show your readiness to fall in with the cycle.” 

Ari knelt down and started digging with his bare hands while you filled both hands with seeds and flower bulbs from the terracotta pot. Kneeling on the ground as well, you planted them in the furrow created by Ari. Then both of you covered the seeds with soil, your hands joined as you did so. 

You washed your hands in the bassinet with fresh water that Alara placed beside you. She poured into it what was left of the honey mixture, then dipped a small bouquet of ferns in it and used them to sprinkle the mixture over you and Ari.

“Blessed be this union!” Alara bellowed, hands stretched high toward the night sky. “Moon, our goddess! As you cast your light upon your favored, embrace his mate. Through the eyes of the witnesses gathered here, watch as they seal their claim on each other.”

Arms slowly dropping, Alara stared at you as she took a few steps backwards. Silence stretched in tense anticipation. 

It dawned on you then. That was the most important part. The culmination.

And there were people around, about to witness your coupling. 

Ari’s hand cupped your chin, preventing you from looking anywhere else but him. No one else should matter now. No other shifter, no woodland creature, nor the stars peppering the sky. There was only your mate. 

He tilted your head back slightly and leaned in. Tip of Ari’s tongue flicked against your bottom lip, licking off the sweetness. Lips trailed sticky kisses across your cheek, until his breath tickled the shell of your ear.

“You’re ready, little Omega,” he purred, slipping a hand between your thighs. 

At the bold touch of his fingers spreading your slick folds, your hands flew to Ari’s shoulders. Fingernails of your right hand needled his skin, while you gripped a fistful of his hair with the other. 

“You’re already mine,” he sounded more than pleased; he sounded drunk on victory after months of chase. “But I’ll pound it into your tight pussy, so you feel that bond with every step.” 

He growled in satisfaction as you moaned, rocking your hips into his hand. He stretched you with a firm stroke of his fingers, driving in two at once and pressing the heel of his palm into your clit. 

Gripping the back of your neck with his other hand, Ari kept pumping his fingers and curling them until your juices were spilling over his palm. 

“Ask me!” He demanded, licking off more of the honey around your mouth. 

“Alpha,” your voice was raspy and breathy, “fuck me! Knot me. Claim me!” 

It was only your heart soaring and fluttering like a hummingbird trapped in grip, though it felt as if the earth itself shuddered beneath you from the force and heat of Ari’s kiss. 

Perhaps there were more potent, illegal roots added to the mead Alara made you drink earlier, or to the honey mixture that soaked your bodies. Or maybe it was the vowed bond that grew taut and intense in its demand to be fulfilled in the most primal way.

Whatever spurred it, made you desperate. Needy. Your mouth opened pliant to Ari’s, ready to swallow whatever he fed you, ready to offer pleasure in return. Your hands roamed over his body; touching and squeezing and scratching. 

When he eased his fingers out of your fluttering cunt, you almost whined in protest. But then he was gripping your hips and flipping you onto your hands and knees. 

Your hindbrain took over, the wolf bitch coming to the surface just beneath your human skin. But it wasn’t only the wolf side that craved the warmth of Ari’s thighs pressing against the back of yours. Your human side wanted it to. The woman who resisted his claim was eager to bend forward and offer herself. 

One of Ari’s big hands gripped your hip, the other moved between your bodies to guid the tip of his cock into your entrance. 

With a broad lick up your spine, Ari laid his weight above you. He nipped the nape of your neck, more playful than he did in his wolf form, and you instinctively followed the unspoken command. You stretched your arms forward and dipped your upper body low, cheek pressed to the ground. 

“Good little Omega,” Ari purred, kissing your neck. 

A loud cry spilled from your lips, resounding through the clearing, maybe through the whole forest, when Ari sheathed himself inside you in one stroke. 

He paused. To relish in the feeling, or to give you a moment to adjust - if it was the latter, you didn’t think it would help. Ari wasn’t some monstrous beast to have a dick you couldn’t take. It was impressive, but in very reasonable size. And yet, something about it made you quiver in fear (and excitement) of being split in half. 

The first languid thrusts drew moans from both of you. Ari drove deep on each push, forcing your pussy to give up completely and nudging your cervix on a few passes. Then his pace increased, his filled heavy sack slapping against your clit. 

Rough fingers dug into your hip, undoubtedly leaving bruises that would bloom later. His other hand roamed below your body, squeezing your breasts, teasing your belly. Ari’s mouth was in constant movement along your neck and shoulders: kissing and licking, teeth grazing your skin in a prelude to the bite. 

You pushed up against him eagerly; the embarrassment at the sound of the skin slapping and wetness squelching on each thrust burned away. You didn’t care! Didn’t care who watched, or how loud you were, how you dripped. There was only need for more of Ari; need for him to help you chase that release you’ve been yearning for since your lips touched his. 

Fingers gouging the soil, you keened when on the next thrust Ari’s cock grazed a spot that instantly had you clenching around him. 

He groaned; the sound deep and low, sinking into your skin where Ari’s mouth hovered on your shoulder. 

Your pussy pulsed, tightening around his dick, and he only made things worse still fucking into you relentlessly; prolonging the madness of your fizzing pleasure and tipping you into another climax. 

Your scream rose as the blinding aftershocks of your orgasm were joined by the pain-and-pleasure shot of Ari’s teeth piercing your skin. 

He bit into the crook of your neck, his jaw locked mercilessly as he drew blood and mauled your skin. Few seconds later Ari gurgled his growl of pleasure with a mouthful of your blood, as he bottomed out inside your quivering cunt and his knot inflated. 

Another tremor rocked you, albeit softer, but stretching into infinity. A simmering orgasm that seemed to go on and on and on as spurts of thick cum filled you. As if each splash of Ari’s spend instigated a tiny climax. 

Harmonized howls resounded in the night, for the first time reminding you of the audience you had. The five chosen shifters who had to change their form into wolves at some point, though you didn’t even register when. 

You stayed locked with Ari for long minutes, your labored breaths synchronizing. Ari’s teeth retracted, his tongue soothing the wound. 

You’d be wearing that scar for months. Many more would be added, you suspected. Due to his possessiveness, or his primal nature so close to the surface, but you were certain Ari would be biting you every time he fucked you. He was going to leave marks of possession so visible other shifters would instantly drop their gaze upon catching a sight of them. 

Only you would be wearing the bite. While mates tended to exchange bites, so each was marked as claimed, an Alpha couldn’t be bitten. Not even by his mate. 

For an Alpha a bite meant a loss of status, a chink in his power; it would be a sign of weakness and submission. Traits an Alpha couldn’t display.

But there were other ways a mate could mark an Alpha. Which is why you felt that need to scratch him from the beginning. To rake your nails down his back and over his chest, leaving deep red lines of your own possession. 

Still a little breathless, you reached one of your dirty hands behind you. Prickling Ari’s neck with your nails, you turned your head enough to kiss him. 

Slowly, Ari pulled back and moved your body along with him. You rose onto your hands and knees. Knot almost deflated, he withdrew from you inch by inch. Copious amount of fluid spilled out of you; a glistening mixture of your slick and Ari’s cum. 

It splashed onto the soil in thick drops; right over the seeds you planted earlier. 

With his arm across your front, Ari helped you up into a sitting position, serving for you as his recliner. Your head rested against his shoulder as he kept you spread; kept you exposed so the Moon and the others could see you dripping down. 

Alara knelt at your side, bowing her forehead almost to the ground then lifting it. She placed her right hand on top of Ari’s where it rested low on your belly.   

“As your essence has fertilized the seeds in the soil, may the Moon’s glow bless your fruitful coupling.”

Her hand didn’t linger, but Ari’s stayed splayed on your abdomen as Alara scooted back. You didn’t roll your eyes at the obvious eagerness to get you pregnant (both from Ari and the pack’s godi) only because you were still quite overwhelmed with the intensity of the whole ceremony. 

Also because there was still need thrumming in your pulse.

Alara signaled the other shifters and they approached in a practiced formation, back in their human forms. They each picked the dishes that were used in the ceremony, then followed Alara out of the clearing. 

You and Ari were left alone. 

His hand stayed on your belly, the other sliding up between your breasts, fingers curling around the front of your neck. Ari trailed small, soft kisses along your shoulder, then scraped your jaw with his teeth.

“This is what I imagined from the moment my eyes set on you for the first time,” he confessed, the undertone of pure satisfaction clear in his voice. 

“You wore a crown of flowers for the festivities and I knew I’d be taking off your bridal wreath and locking you on my knot.”

A tremor blew goosebumps on your skin. That very first evening you sensed trouble from catching the attention of an Alpha, but then you didn’t yet know how severe his determination was. He’d chase you to the end of the world to claim you. 

You twisted in his arms, facing him and climbing into his lap. You cupped Ari’s face, smudging dirt over his cheeks. You could’ve held onto your resentment and rebellion, making the whole experience and nearest future a very miserable for you both. Somehow, you couldn’t make yourself do that. Not even that morning, when fleeting thoughts of giving a last run crossed your mind. 

You were Ari’s now. As he was yours. 

He’s shown you over the weeks that he’s ready to build this relationship with you. If the way he led the pack was any indication of how he’d be as a mate, you had a chance of creating something indestructible. 

“And now you have me.” You rolled your hips, enjoying the twitch of his cock against your thigh. “Are you going to gloat?”

“A little bit,” Ari shrugged, flashing you a sexy grin. 

“Mostly-” he palmed your ass and pulled your hips upward- “I’m going to worship you.”

He dropped you down onto his cock, hissing in pleasure as your heat enveloped him again. Your small moan at the stretch made his eyes ignite. 

“Come, little Omega,” Ari laid down on his back and you braced your hands against his chest as you sank fully onto his cock. “Take me. Take your mate.” 

Ari groaned as your nails drew more lines across his body, leaving pink trails that would gain in color in a few hours. 

With his hands squeezing your ass, he urged you down as he thrust up into you. Your nails needled deeper, giving him a meek reflection of the sting you felt each time he bottomed out. When he knotted you again, you’d undoubtedly draw blood. 

Then he’d sink his teeth into you again, stating his undisputed dominance even as he allowed you to claw him.

Your wolf growled her pleasure at the prospect. 

#Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson x you #Ari Levinson x female reader #Alpha!Ari Levinson #Alpha!Ari Levinson x you #shifter!Ari Levinson #wolf!Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson imagine #Ari Levinson fic #bad moon rising

[cryptotheism]

Hey I'm trying to make this as genuine as possible: why study magic? I'm not questioning the legitimacy of it, I'm asking what is The Thing of the study of magic. Like math has numbers, I guess? Is it a branch of the study of philosophy, or of religions, or both? Do you study magic writings from the point of view of - what? It sounds really abstract to me. When I try to follow what you write on here it feels like I am peering at a dark tunnel with half an eye closed and thirty shots of vodka in the brain, and I ask myself, "Why does it matter that Bunglo Fundoborgus believes the symbol for the sun must be an X with eleven circles instead of an O with three dots?". I know it does, it relates to historical thinking and religions and I would suppose even folklore, I'm just - having trouble focusing here. Why is there The Study of Magic instead of Magic in The Study of Folklore or Religion or etc? When witchy people go "this rock and this grass will hex my enemies" or "Artemis is soooo mad rn" is it anything like what you study, or does this kind of magic falls under another field of study? Sorry for the word diarrhea, I'm just really confused I guess. Again I am not trying to sealion you here. If that is how it comes off I deeply apologize. Have a nice day.

No no it's a legitimate question!

Bundo Fundoborgus sounds silly right? That's a silly guy who thinks silly stuff.

Well, in real life, you look through Bundo Fundoborgus's wikipedia page, and find a link to the "Fundosborgian Preacher" that was his greatest student.

You click the link, and turns out that Bundo Fundoborgus's Main Student is actually the father of president Harry S. Truman, or some other insanely influential political figure.

These people don't exist in vacuums. Their ideas, no matter how ostensibly strange, have tangible effects on real life that STILL shape the world today, and CONTINUE to shape it.

Here's an example: If you've ever had cereal for breakfast, you can thank Alchemist and medical reformer Philippus Aurelius Theophrastus Bombastus Von Hohenhiem, whose work on anatomy was extremely influential on John Harvey Kellogg, who also invented the chasity cage.

Enjoy western Philosophy? Hegel was influenced by the mystical doctrines of the legendary magician Hermes Trismegistus. Dialecticism itself has its genesis in Hermeticism.

[cocobirde]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 | JOHN DORY

request. @Striped_Scheme on wattpad Requesting a JD x Reader where they've been dating since BroZone days but he kinda just left her with no goodbye and tries to reconcile and convince them to come help and save Floyd lol ("Technically we never really broke up"☝🤓) word count. 2.2k warnings. the word fuck lol. timeline. pre-trolls trilogy, pre-trolls band together. song. baby it's cold outside with some slight alterations (tell me he wouldnt. i DAREEE you.) a/n. honestly. idea was good, but my writing was not it so apologies but love u... thanks for reading lolz... probably rushed... (i do that alot in my writing how to not rush help me) no doubt ooc characters, characters will always be ooc.

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"He's gone? What do you mean gone?"

Floyd could sense your distress. Panicked voice squeaking and your eyes darting all over the small backstage area for your boyfriend, on how exactly he could've left without you catching him.

You were in front of the stage, courtesy of being the partner of a band member, which was amazing but also granted limited viewing if they went too far back. From what you did see, the expressions were a solemn mixture of embarrassment, anger, disappointment.

You barely paid attention to the fans, who were also attempting to go in the same direction as you. Getting caught up in them took a whole lot of convincing the security.

But still, you were just at the door, and you heard him through it. Where had he gone? Was he okay? He fell from a very tall place in front of a crowd of fans, which was probably more damaging to him compared to actually getting injured—but not for you.

You watched him stumble backstage, stumble.

Baby Branch hid behind Floyd, wrapping the little leaf-sewn vest around his body, looking from his older brother to you, worried.

Where's the rest of the band?

"He just left. Everyone did. The band's..." Floyd paused, sighing, "BroZone's over."

You stood confused, your brows furrowing at his words. Over? How could they be over? This was just the start of their world tour. The band couldn't just break up over one failure.

"Over?"

They weren't that fragile, were they?

You loved all the brothers; they were like your own family, but your worries were set on only one of them for the time being.

"Did J at least say where he was going?"

Floyd nodded his head but remained unsure of what your thoughts would be on his answer. He glanced down at baby Branch, who was huddled around his leg.

"He was upset, really upset," he explained. "Said he was going to go hiking to the Neverglades... alone."

The change in your face told him everything, and he was quick to extend his hands in front of him. "But John Dory always says crazy things like that, and he never goes through with them. I'm sure he probably just went up to The Point."

That did seem like a logical explanation, and it was. Floyd may not have been the oldest, but he always had reason and logic behind his smart words.

"You're right." You were still stressed, no doubt, but that calmed your fears down. "Are you guys gonna be okay?"

Floyd spared another guilty glance at Branch and nodded, offering a soft smile and urging you to go look for your lover.

▃▃▃▃▃

The troll tree was huge, and even with its large size, it was hard to find any area that wasn't already occupied. Trolls made sure to take advantage of all their space; it was their home, and they made the most of it.

But even with every taken, there was one place that was free from everyone else.

A special spot reserved for you and your lover.

The Point.

Little knew about the spot, and those who did ensured it remained private.

Hidden in the leaves was a branch sticking out high enough to conceal the ugly Bergen town that surrounded them and gave them access to the beautiful night sky.

You and John Dory liked to go there a lot. Whether it be dates or to blow off steam (not like that for the weirdos), if he'd go anywhere after an accident like today, he'd go there.

He was very athletic and made a show of it whenever you'd go together, carrying you up. Bridal style or pulling you up with his strong locks—the point was, you had trouble going up on your own.

It took a while—a hard struggle—but it'd be worth it to see your boy up there and cheer him up.

They couldn't just break up; they just needed their leader to see that.

"John Dory?"

You called upon reaching the top, pushing the heavy leaves out of your way, careful not to slip off the branch.

"Baby, are you here?" Your voice was soft; you didn't want to alarm him. He could be really sensitive sometimes.

That thought brought a faint smile to your face. A smile fell upon the realization that he wasn't up here. If not up here, where could he have gone?

Home?

Knowing JD, you doubted it. If this was as serious as Floyd had put it, as serious as he looked, he wouldn't have just gone home.

And so your search ensued.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You spent days looking for him. Not a spot in the tree was untouched or unsearched by you. Somehow, the troll had just disappeared. No signs. No letters. No goodbyes.

He left you alone to suffer. Wondering where he'd gone, if he was okay, and if you guys were okay.

It was a coincidence, truly.

How on the day you reminisce when he left you without even a word explaining his sudden disappearance all those years ago was the same day you'd find John Dory on your doorstep.

"Come on, baby, could you let me in?"

"Baby?" you scoffed, remaining with your back slammed against the door in exasperation. "You lost the right to call me that a very long time ago."

One moment you were having a nice day, reading a nice book by your fireplace, enjoying the pitter-patter of rain outside, and the thunder struck, shaking you in the best way possible.

And the next...

"It's cooold..."

He whined, banging on the door desperately.

You couldn't bear to look at him; the second you already spent doing so when you opened the door was enough. He had a face that you'd never forget.

How'd he even find you?

"Go. Away." you growled.

"But it's cold outside."

You clenched your jaw, glaring at the door handle as he shook it. JD used little effort to push at the door; by the weight of it, he could tell you were against it. Not that it mattered.

He was strong; he could easily open it if he wanted to.

"You simply must go."

"Baby, it's cold outside."

If John Dory thinks a little singing is enough to serenade you, he is more of an idiot than you are already aware he is. You weren't a teenager helplessly in love with a silly musician from next door, you were grown.

Mature.

His tricks weren't going to work on you.

"The answer is no."

"But baby, it's cold outside."

He put more pressure, pushing, and you cursed for the lack of a lock on your door.

Trolls don't do locks! They don't have anything to worry about!

Except ex-boyfriend's trying to come in and ruin your life all over again.

"The welcome has been-."

"You should feel so lucky I dropped in."

You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping with your words, "So nice and warm."

He pushed the door, slipping a leg in to stop it from shutting completely, peeking a crack. You groaned and peered through it at him.

Sharp glares were directed at him, and gosh, if only looks could kill, he would've dropped dead right now.

He looked stupid.

Stupid puppy eyes with his stupid goggles and a stupid pout on his stupid face. He was soaked from head to toe, the rain falling on him more and more every second he stood outside.

My, did he look pathetic?

BANG!

He shrieked, desperation on his face and voice, jumping at the loud crash of thunder, lighting up the dark sky.

He turned back to you, singing rapidly.

"Look out the window at that storm!"

"Ugh, okay! Come in!"

His face lit up, the door swinging open, and he rushed in, soaking your carpet with rain as you shut the door behind him, slamming it hard enough that the whole house shook with force.

He glanced at you in surprise, getting a glare in return.

JD opened his mouth to speak, obviously nothing nice with the smug look on his face, and you were quick to shut him down.

"Don't."

He clamped his mouth shut, smirking and holding his hands up in defense. "I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Stay."

You urged with a pointed finger, walking off to your bathroom in search of a towel.

"Yes, your majesty."

You hated him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't cruel. He might've been, but you weren't. Any troll would do the same as you; offer him some refuge from the storm outside.

Returning with a towel, you didn't bother passing it to him, tossing it and smacking him right in the face.

Maybe you were a little cruel.

He reacted with a huff, taking it and wrapping it around himself, not bothering to dry himself like ordered, but more like a shelter from the cold.

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend after all these years?"

John Dory tutted, shaking his head in disappointment as he took a single step in your direction.

"Boyfriend?" you scoffed.

"I mean, technically, we never broke up."

Oh, you wanted to punch his little ugly face so bad.

"You disappearing without saying anything was us "technically" breaking up." You did air quotations with another roll of your eyes, speaking before he did, exasperated.

"Why are you even here, John Dory?"

He stayed silent for a few moments, pondering what exactly to say. What could he say? He knew it was stupid of him to even come in the first place. He knew you'd be angry, upset, but not like this.

You didn't look the slightest bit happy to see him.

His smugness dropped along with his shoulders, and he took a breath.

"I need your help."

He looked dead serious. So serious.

You shook your head, your lips curling up in disbelief. "You need my help. Right." your arms crossed, "You leave, disappear off to who knows where, say nothing, suddenly come back after 20 years, and you decide you want my help?"

A short and dry laugh left you.

John Dory really was unbelievable.

"I knew you wouldn't want to see me..."

"I don't want to see you." You cut him off with a grimace, ready to say more-

He had that same desperate look.

Honestly, it brought you back. It brought you back to all those years ago, when both of you were young.

John Dory was always a terrible boyfriend, cocky and arrogant, bossy, too busy with BroZone to give you the time you needed. It hurt you. You loved him so much, and he didn't seem to always reciprocate those feelings. And each time you guys would argue and break up, he would be the first to return with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Leave me alone, John. You can't just come back and expect me to accept you. That's not how life works! If you wanna be in a relationship, you have to commit-..."

"Can you please just listen?"

He stared at you with a small pout, furrowed brows, eyes pleading into yours for you to give him a second chance. His stupid, loving eyes knew exactly how you worked. How exactly to work you.

The only difference right now was that he came empty-handed.

Nevertheless, it effectively shut you up.

"I fucked up all those years ago, I know. I fucked up leaving you. That's the biggest mistake I've ever made. I should've said goodbye, apologized, invited you to come with me- I should've done something!" He ranted, "But I didn't. And I just left..."

John Dory expected you to say something. One of your snarky remarks and cut him off, tell him he's wrong or right, and degrade him on what a terrible person he is because he is well aware of it.

But he's trying.

"Baby, you of all trolls know how terrible I am at apologies," he sighed.

And you didn't bother to correct him on your name; looking at him up and down, eyes still narrowed. You were still angry, you'd probably be angry for a very long time, but for the moment... you'd put it aside.

"What do you need help with?"

His face lit up, beaming at you at your acceptance, not denying him completely, not shunning the troll out, and kicking him back into the rain. You were hearing him out.

You noticed the look and huffed, "Just because I'm asking does not mean I'm going to say yes."

"Floyd's been kidnapped."

Your expression softened, and your mouth fell open in a quiet gasp.

"Kidnapped?"

"I got a letter from him saying he got kidnapped by popstars Velvet and Veneer." He went on and explained the story about how he went to see him and help him escape, only to fail: "-The only way to free him is by singing the perfect family harmony."

You loved Floyd to this day. It'd been years since you'd last talked to him, heard of him at all, but the same amount of affection you felt for the troll remained.

"I need to get the band back together. And... I really can't do it on my own. I'm not sure if they want to see me any more than you did-."

You cut him off a lot.

"I'll help," he grinned. "But not for you. For Floyd. Don't think I've forgiven you yet."

"Yet?"

"Shut up."

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#trolls band together #brozone #trolls #trolls x reader #john dory x reader #jd x reader #brozone x reader #hes soo ugughhh #cocowrites🖊 #what other tags do i put #trolls john dory #trolls brozone #trolls jd

[sweetiecutie]

Part four: outdoor sex~ 🩷 Kinktober Masterlist 🩷

Pairing: John MacTavish x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, outdoor sex, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampie, I have no idea abt Scottish English sorry (I have no idea abt any English actually)

It was no secret that Johnny was a horny motherfucker. No matter the time, day, weather or any other conditions - he always wanted to fuck. Of course, if you said no he’d grumble and back off, but it was hard resisting his shitty pickup lines and enticing eyes, always managing to lit a small spark of want within the pit of your stomach which very soon turned into a wildfire.

So when Johnny wrapped his strong meaty arm around your waist while you were out for a walk in the forest - you didn’t think much of it. My, my, you should’ve known better.

Now your chest was pressed against patchy bark of tall pine tree, your leggings pulled down hastily to your mid-thigh as John’s throbbing leaking cock was sheathed deep inside your cunny, calloused fingers digging into exposed skin of your hips, leaving pale marks there.

- Fuuuuck, this pussy sucks me right back in, - Johnny moaned, throwing his head back at the intensity of the feeling.

You couldn’t help but jolt from every single noise - a crack of a branch, sound of cool wind rustling leaves somewhere above. The thought of getting caught like this was straight down embarrassing, but also - exciting. You couldn’t suppress a small mewl as Johnny’s nimble fingers came downward to flick the nub of your clit, making your legs go weak - if it wasn’t for Scot’s strong hold on you - you’d be tumbling down onto the damp earth.

- Fuck, Johnny, getting close, - you whined, eyebrows furrowing as your hips snapped back repeatedly, fucking yourself back onto your man’s length.

- Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy, yeah? Don’t want to make a mess of you, do we? - Johnny rumbled, obviously pussydrunk. It only brought you closer to your high - realization of how much control you had over this man, how wrapped around your finger he was.

With a string of muffled profanities mixed with groans and sighs Johnny came, emptying his fertile load deep inside of your needy pussy. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, your walls clenching around him instinctively upon feeling his cum spill within.

You felt John’s clammy from sweat forehead resting against the side of your neck, heaving chest pressed against your back, keeping you close. You whined impatiently, wriggling your ass against Soap’s hips, making him groan from overstimulating. The hand on your clit resumed its movements and not long after you were shuddering and moaning, tight cunt spasming around Johnny’s softening cock, bringing him deeper into his bliss.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Johnny’s airy chuckle which vibrated through his chest and onto your back. - God, lass, yer gonna be the death of me, - he said, pulling out and fixing your panties back up in place as quickly as possible so that his cum won’t spill out of your fluttering cunt.

- It was your idea, remember? - you said, pulling your legging up and turning around, watching Johnny tuck himself back into his boxers and sport shorts, grinning all the while.

- An amazing one, isn’t it? - you just rolled your eyes, straightening up and cringing at the pain in your lower back from uncomfortable position.

- Yeah, sure. But you owe me a massage now, - you complained, feeling your boyfriend’s cum spill out of your pussy, dampening your already ruined panties even further.

- Of course, love, - Soap replied with a wide grin, hugging you with one arm, his brain already working on a plan of fucking you under the guise of “deeper relaxation”

#johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #call of duty smut #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty writing #cod #cod soap #cod x reader #cod mw #soap call of duty #soap cod #cod smut #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #task force 141

[brights-place]

Hi! May I request headcannons for John Dory and/or Branch with a Classical troll s/o :)

Dating an Classical Troll

Pairings: John Dory X Reader, Branch X Reader,

Warnings: None

A/N: Broppy isn’t cannon in this one well except for JD’s part. Okie dokie! Also THE CLASSICAL TROLLS ARE SO SWEET AND CUTE

John Dory

- That would be an shock when his brothers found out HE was dating an CLASSICAL TROLL

- like… everybody would be so shocked

- Classical trolls where known for being highly cultured and their music mainly focusing on the an Orchestral part.

- Their music lacks lyrics instead putting more emphasis on harmonies and instruments. They take their music very seriously…

- so when they find out THE JD is dating an classical troll they are shocked jaws to the floor and not believing so

- as the troll that likes to show off and also as one to prove that it’s true he takes them to where the classical trolls lives

- JD was greeted by some classical trolls and others just snicker when seeing JD knowing who he was searching for.

- He was in the middle of the town square

- “DARLIN! YOU HERE?” JD said his hands cupped through his hands “Dude Your lying there’s no way you would be dating an classical troll- Oh damn” “Told you Guys :]”

- When they heard an voice call out happily towards JD they were even more shocked on how you darted quickly to JD and hugged him

- Your small wings flapping as you held your instrument in your other hand before grinning towards the new trolls which JD introduced as his family and branch is girlfriend (Poppy)

- You’d happily greet them and when they left you’d chat to JD telling him you have to go back to the orchestra

- He’d follow behind and watch you in awe and in an loving gaze

- When he heard your music he keeps quiet since he knows that he shouldn’t be loud while you all play since it’s seen disrespectful.

- The first time he did it he had gotten the stink eye from everyone until you explained the proper manners and he understood quickly

- You two dance together but it's you doing ballroom dancing and him is just normal pop dance moves which is so sweet and funny

- You two share songs you both enjoy when he teaches you pop your interested and when you teach him classical he’s invested cause he loves how your face lights up when you talk about your genre

- Loves when you fly around Even loves it more when you pick him up and fly around together it’s fun for him and fun for you

- despite hour small size your physically quite strong, able to lift other Trolls off the ground and can give bone crushing hugs…

- JD enjoyed your hugs but sometimes he feels like the life is squeezing out of him

- He knows you got balancing issues when you try to walk or run cause classical trolls mainly fly so he tries to help the best he can

- He knows that Pride and Ego are important in your culture so he make sure to make your face in town the best

- but in private he loves how you act out from your ‘Classical’ mask and shift to your normal one when with him

- Loves when you cuddle and don’t try to crush him

- he enjoys your affection and the time you take with him.

- He loves you no matter what even though he still tries to get the hang of not cheering you on when preforming sometimes <33

Branch

- Branch wouldn’t talk about it at all

- He wouldn’t say he’s dating an classical troll but it got found out by Poppy who was wondering where he has been going for awhile - The only troll who DID knew was Floyd

- Branch would tell the group off for following him mainly poppy for following him but he gets interrupted when an Classical troll tackles him into an hug laughing and flying in the air with him in his arms

- Classical trolls where known for being strong yet having trouble to run and walk if they don't fly - Would ask you to put him down to introduce you to his brothers and friends - once they met you they where shocked since you were the opposite of Branch - after they left you asked if branch if he wanted to watch you play with the orchestra he'd just follow along

- He knows basic etiquette of classical troll culture, and knows you take your music very seriously you told him that the music lacks lyrics instead you add putting more emphasis on harmonies and instruments.

- He loves how you play your instrument smoothly and can't help but grin

- Would compliment you once your done with your show

- Loves when you pick him up to fly around and you two go cloud watching and star gazing

- It may not seem like it but he's the slow romantic, and passionate type of person

- Loves hugging you and cares for you so much even enjoys when you two waltz together to your music

- You and him share diffrent songs and takes not of everything you like and makes small items for you two

- he made you an new Instrument when yours broke in half

- he loves holding your wings in his hands since their soft even though he knows its sensitive to touch sometimes but he finds it so cool

- he enjoys holding your hand but he's sometimes scared you'll crush him

- he tries to help you so much due to your balancing issues he makes you an walking stick to help you

- Will adore your kisses and your fluffy hair

- let his hand go through your hair its so soft to him and would fall asleep cuddling you

- he loves how your face lights up when you talk about your genre of music.

- despite hour small size your physically quite strong, able to lift other Trolls off the ground and can give bone crushing hugs… he loves your hugs so much - No matter what genre he will always love you.

#john dory headcanons #john dory x reader #trolls x reader #brozone x reader #trolls band together #john dory trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #john dory #branch trolls #branch #Branch X Reader

[vacayisland]

HIII i saw that you were taking request so im just asking if you could make a John dory x reader insert fanfic?

John dory meeting his spouce on the mission with Branch and Poppy when they find Bruce and hits it off with them while their is working at Bruces little diner?

@!; It's always a "vacay" with you. John Dory (JD) / Reader

"Summary"! John Dory didn't expect meeting the love of his life on a mission to save his brother; yet here he was, finding himself oh so fascinated with you that Spruce, Branch, and Poppy are having to physically pull him away from Vacay Island! "Tags"! Fluff! A lil awkward. Also, not proof read. I need to research JD a little more before writing another fanfiction about him, yet I tried my best with his personality!

@!; The last thing that John Dory expected from this mission was to find someone who completed him wholly, fully, and completely. The last thing he expected, when arriving to Vacay Island was to fall in love, head over heels for another Troll. The last thing he expected to come from this mission was to find someone who finally understood; understood him and his ways and how he is. Who made him want to be better while helping make him better; and in turn he helps them be a better version of themself. And it felt like some sort of weird destiny. They were only going to the island to find Spruce; a mission with one end goal, one way to go. Yet, when following Spruce (now Bruce) into his co-owned resort, singing had caught his attention right away...

Branch and Poppy kept following after Spruce, who hadn't turned around yet and kept trying to wave the two off while claiming his band days were over and to keep it all hushed-hushed. Though JD had stopped half way through the walk, hearing a tune flutter through the speakers of the indoor seating area. His interest had been captured, it was held captive with ever flutter of the sweet notes that wafted through the air. Though he slowly started to back up to follow his younger brother to get Spruce, he kept his eye out for the person who held such a lovely voice. "This is my wife, Brandy!" JD had swung himself on top of the bar top just as Bruce was introducing his wife. He was about to wave them off, though took a quick double turn when he actually saw who Bruce's wide was. Then grew even more confused when Bruce was bombarded with 10... 11... maybe 12 kids?! "How do you?-" JD pointed towards Brandy and Bruce, managing to interject between all the kids and chaos; Asking the one question that him, Poppy, and Branch were thinking - maybe less Poppy, and more him and Branch. Yet still, how would such a relationship even work? Nevertheless work so well where they had so many children- wait no, JD scrunched his nose as the thoughts that came to mind. He subtly leaned away from the two, glancing between Branch and Poppy and Bruce and Brandy. He turned them out for a moment, glancing back at the open sitting area as everyone chatted and spoke, laughed and cackled, just having a good time. And that's when he saw a flash of color, different from the other warmer-tones. JD didn't notice the way his breath caught in his throat the moment you swung by, landing on the counter top with a skidded stop. Despite wearing roller blades, the wheels didn't bother you. "Brandy! You got the food for Skid and Mary?" "Oh hey! Guys, that's (Y/N), a worker of mine." Bruce cut in as Brandy nodded, ringing a bell before a basket of fries and burgers were pushed out from the kitchen. She would take them, slide them across the counter to you, and you would, as though these plates weren't triple your size, hooked your hair around the holes of the basket. "Thanks, gotta run! Oh- hey Bruce." A wave, bright smile, and you were off; having stopped in for a brief moment but completely capturing JD's attention once again. He couldn't help but watch as you skated off, dragging the plates behind you while dodging whoever and whatever came your way. "So they was singing." JD blurted, not exactly meaning to. Though he captured his brothers and Poppy's attention. Bruce simply crossed his arms, "Oh, (Y/N)? Yeah! They always sing while they work, sometimes they even take a break to entertain everyone with a musical number." Though JD didn't catch it, Branch give him a skeptical look; being quicker to catch onto the way JD looked on you and the slightly softer tone he had.

@!; JD wasn't sure what attracted him to you yet, but he found himself looking for you every second of their stay trying to convenience Bruce to come help save Floyd. Even during the 'Brozone's back' performance, he looked for your face in the crowd; trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of you and your rolling skating antics. When they were done, while Poppy and Bruce's family were cheering them on, his eyes were stuck on the crowd. His nose scrunched as he tried to keep old thoughts out of his head, wondering why you weren't here praising him for his singing or anything like that. No, he cannot think like that. He's growing, he's outgrown that mindset- "Earth to JD!" JD snapped out of his thoughts at Poppy frantically waving her hand in front of his face. A hard blink and he turned over to the staring company. Brandy had a knowing look, in which JD squinted at trying to decipher. Poppy playfully punched JD's arm, "Oh, good to have you back!" A big grin paired her child like antics, in which JD only laughed and brushed off. "What are you talking about, I've been here since the beginning. After all, I'm the one who found Floyd's lett-" Yet he wasn't able to finish before Branch cut in. "Yeah, half here. Ever since we stepped foot here you've been," And Branch waited no time drawing a circle at the side of his temple, pairing it with a whistle; effectively calling JD insane, or mainly out of it. Poppy playfully slapped Branch's arm away from his head, saying something about how that was rude to do. Branch smiled a little, but tried to keep a straight face, as he gestured over to JD with a 'come on' type of look. Poppy glanced over to JD for a moment then back at Branch, a silent agreement that she would try to make unobvious. Bruce simply chuckled at their antics. "What? What's funny?" JD pointed at Bruce, narrowing his eyes a little as his more laid-back brother. "Oh nothing.." And there was a hint in Bruce's voice that made it sound like there was more. Yet he didn't say anything, arms crossed, as he gave JD a knowing look. An oddly, really knowing look. It threw JD off. He wasn't that readable anymore, he wasn't how he was when the band was together and his brothers shouldn't know how he is! He didn't like that look. So he glanced away from Bruce. Yet there was a feeling in his gut that JD knew that Bruce had some sort of hint of what was distracting him.

@!; The mission had been delayed a day. Bruce needed to stay back for a day longer to help Brandy with the kids and figure out all the logistics of leaving so suddenly. JD had gone off on his own, letting Branch and Poppy do their own thing, as he went to go walk on the beach. There wasn't much else to do than to walk on the beach and take in the scene. He didn't exactly want to get into the water, despite how impressing it might be to you- And there his mind goes again! JD cursed himself and cursed his thoughts and cursed you!- Then he paused, with a scrunch of his nose. He couldn't curse you no matter how much he was irritated you infiltrated his thoughts. He hasn't even spoken to you! How would he know you would even like him? That he would even like you! "A little help!!" JD's attention snapped behind him as he heard the shout from an all too familiar voice. Yet he didn't have time to react, seeing a troll barreling towards him with their arms extended and a panic-stricken look. JD jumped out of the way, landing in the sand and purposefully with more force than needed to dig himself in. You whizzed by him and he quickly shot his hair our towards you, wrapping it around your waist and trying to hold onto the friction from the sand to slow you down. Yet, maybe he should have dug himself in deeper. He knew this as soon as his left foot lost footing and he shot forward, dragging across the sand and towards you. He tried grabbing onto something, yet you both only crashed into each other; And while that helped to stop you, it also caused you both to barrel and roll into the shore of the ocean, effectively drenching you both in salty water. JD groaned, laying in the mushy sand floor, feeling the waves crash up against him and recede slowly back once they came. He felt groggy, a little disorientated, yet he didn't have much time to reflect on that feeling when someone began to shake him. "Oh my god! Please don't be dead- please!" And with a few slaps to his cheek, JD shoved a hand into the face of whoever was trying to bother him at this moment. There was a silence for a moment, maybe out of shock, before JD heard the person beside him let out a deep sigh. It was a sigh like the weight of the world had been lifted off the person's shoulders, releasing them some sort of trouble or entanglement with liability. JD opened one eye when the ocean drew back again, keeping his eyes half-lidded, as he tried to see who was with him in the ocean. He swore he nearly died the minute that he saw you, soaking head to toe and looking down at him with the most worrisome look. He jolted up to a sit, not realizing his hand was still cupping your mouth until a moment later; When he drew it back, glancing down at it and back up at you, then cautiously placing it beside him. "Are you okay?" And despite how awkward this situation could be, you didn't make it that way. And JD slightly hoped it was because you saw the look on his face; The silent apology he couldn't bare himself to say. He's been working on himself, but he's not that level of worked on yet. Especially since he knew he owed a few people some big apologies.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." JD mumbled after a minute. He took in a deep breath before placing his hands on his knees and standing up, letting out the breath in a long sigh as he did so. "Oh- um! That's good." Your smile was anxious, a little weary, as you still sat in the mushy sand in the fire range of the waves. JD offered you his hand. You took it, allowing him to help you onto your feet. And that awkward silence along with a prolonged holding of hands. JD wasn't sure why, but he noticed the way your hand fit perfectly into his like all your hands were made to do was hold each other. He kind of didn't want to let go, but did so for the sake of comfortability. It would be awkward to hold hands with a strange, right? And no matter how many fangirls they had felt with in Brozone, JD would never know that answer. He guessed yes, by the way your eyes shifted to the left in an uncomfortable fashion. Yet he saw the way your eyes flicked back to his the moment he let go. He noticed the way your hand dropped to your side limp-like, and the small smile that crept to your face. There was some sort of glint in your eyes that drew JD in again. Though he couldn't exactly tell what that sparkle was for; he just hoped you were going the same way his brain was. "Hey," A pause, you were chewing over your words. "Would you like to talk over a basket of nachos?" "Were you reading my mind?" JD cocked up his eyebrow, giving you a snicker as he saw the cheeky look that rose on your face. "Maybe I am, you'll never know! But I have an employ discount I still have to use and this seems like the perfect occasion to take my break." And you grinned a grin that made JD feel like you were looking right through him; That you knew all his flaws and strengths all at once and yet still loved him for every single one of them. And maybe he was insane to think so. And maybe JD should get to know you better before he jumps to conclusions. But, shit, you had him hooked in a way no Troll has had him before.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#dreamworks trolls #brozone x reader #john dory trolls #trolls brozone #john dory headcanons #brozone #trolls fandom #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #john dory #branch #queen poppy #trolls branch #floyd trolls #clay trolls

[heaven4lostgirls]

Best Friend (R.C)

pairing: rafe cameron x reader, possibly jj maybank x reader

warning: hurt/comfort i believe? i'm not sure. rafe's an ass but also psycho but what else is new. JJ is a cutie and we love him. mentions of unrequited feelings and jealousy.

summary: being rafe's best friend used to be one of the best things in life, until it wasnt. now its time for you to make your own choices and rafe isnt too happy about that.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: as i said, my motivation is back so say hello to a new story!, not sure if i'll continue this but if you want another part, i'll be open to trying to write another piece.

Rafe and you had been friends since before you could even know what the word meant. Y/N and Rafe, Rafe, and Y/N, never one without the other, a package deal since the day you could remember. It was beautiful, truly. Having someone you could trust unconditionally; sure, you had your family and other close friends but none of them ever knew you as well as Rafe did. His ability to see not just you, but your soul was something you couldn’t imagine finding with someone else.

Which is why for the last 5 years, you’ve spent quietly trying to kill the crush you’d developed on your best friend. Every piece of attention he had ever given you, every small touch and sweet gesture just nurtured your heart faster than any of his sexual conquests and questionable habits could ever break it. You followed his figure through the party he had thrown at house, the smell of drugs, alcohol and sweaty bodies all mushed together to create the distinct atmosphere of a typical Rafe Cameron rager.

He was known for these parties; you both were actually. You and Rafe were unanimously dubbed the prince and princess of the OBX. You were once fond of that title but as time passed and you watched from the sidelines as a new girl sat of Rafe’s lap as you were left behind to do your own thing, it became a harder pill to swallow. Currently, he had his arm wrapped around a beautiful brunette who looked nothing like you, which seemed to be a recurring theme.

You watched as he sat down on one of the couches on the balcony near his friends and pulled the girl into his lap, your eyes stung but you knew better than to let your emotions get the better of you. Now was not the time to lose your cool, someone could see, and the news would spread fast to Rafe and with his inebriated state from who knows what, you weren’t willing to take the chances he was going to act in a sane way.

So, you blinked harshly, refilled your cup with your drink of choice and went back to the party, aiming to ignore Rafe and his company for the most part until  he eventually got bored and came looking for you. Fortunately for you, you spot Kiara and the rest of the Pogue’s outside near the fire pit. It’s usually very rare to see any of them  at one of these parties, more so because of Sarah’s strained relationship with her brother.

It’s comforting to meet their warm and happy gazes, you haven’t been able to spend much time with them because Rafe had monopolised most of it, he also didn’t particularly enjoy you choosing to spend your time with someone else other than him. Fortunately for you, parties like these lets you branch out and speak to new people without having to worry about Rafe breathing down your neck.

“Hey Y/N!” John B calls out and the rest of the group turns with excited and warm looks on their faces, the calm that washes over your body is immediate and you walk over to them to say hi. “Hey” you mutter shy as the girls get up to hug you as you sit in-between JJ and Sarah. “Haven’t seen you much around the island recently, you doing, okay?” Kiara asks curiously and you chew on your lip as you wonder what to tell her.

“No yeah I’m good, it’s just…Rafe you know?” you say, somewhat embarrassed that you don’t have a better excuse for the group. As you look down to your lap, you miss the look of sympathy that Kiara and Sarah share, they know just how bad it is to be caught  up with Rafe. “Hey, are you busy tomorrow?” Sarah pipes in and you look at her in surprise, this is the first time someone’s ever invited you to hang out.

“No?” you say confused and Sarah looks at the group before breaking out in a big smile before mentioning, “We’re all going to the beach tomorrow, it’s supposed to be a really good surf day” she says as she looks at you expectantly. “We’d love if you could join us” Kiara adds and the smile that lights up is almost blinding. “That sounds great! I’m not too good at surfing but I’d still like to come if you’ll have me” you say a little embarrassed and the rest of the group just voices their agreement before Pope breaks the chatter.

“John B’s teaching Sarah tomorrow how to get the bigger waves and I’ll be helping Kie fish, but JJ’s free if you want some help” he offers and the man in question looks surprised at the suggestion. You’re shocked but you look at JJ with a small smile and shrug of your shoulders. “Yeah, no worries, I don’t know how good of a teacher I’ll be, but I can try” he says, and you nod excitedly.

The night moves on swiftly with friendly chatter between 6 of you. You  surprisingly don’t feel excluded when they start sharing all their memories together, you’re happy to sit back and listen and before you know it, the party starts dying down and people start either dozing off right where they are or leaving to get home. You try to find Rafe but one sympathetic look from Topper lets you know that he’s in his room…not alone.

With no ride home and Topper wasted, you have no way home. You’re about to start walking but you see the lights of a run-down van come to a stop across the street before the door opens and JJ’s voice carries through the night. “C’mon! John B’s our DD tonight, you can get a lift bunk with us for the night.” He offers and you gladly accept, you all make your way back to the chalet and as everyone gets to their designated sleeping areas, there’s no space for you on any of the couches.

Pope offers you his space so he can sleep on the floor, but you decline, letting him know its okay. You settle in on the cold floor and try to readjust to get a comfortable spot before you feel someone shaking your arm. You  open your eyes and blink slightly to see JJ’s ruffled hair and outstretched hand, you look at him confusedly but nonetheless comply. He pulls you up and navigates the chalet like second nature, “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.” He whispers and you shake your head vehemently.

“No, I’m not taking your bed, you sleep there. I was fine on the floor” you argue, and he rolls his eyes as he pulls you into the room. “I could hear your shuffling through the door, just sleep in the bed y/n.” he says amused, your lips twitch into a smile as you look at him in the eyes. “No.” you say, and his eyes roll again as he huffs and moves to the bed to lie down on one side.

Before you can leave you see him pat the space next to him. “You coming or what?” he mumbles sleepily. You hesitate for a second before you realise that it’s better than sleeping on the floor. You get in on the other side of the bed and place the blanket over the bottom half of your body. As you doze off, you’re mildly aware of someone pulling you closer to their chest and soft breathing against your neck.

You wake up to your phone buzzing, as you pick it up you notice almost a dozen missed calls from Rafe and over fifty texts ranging from asking where you are to confusion that you’re not at his place or your own, to anger that you’re not answering him. Your heads still pounding from the alcohol last night so all you do is send him and your parents a text saying your safe and you’re spending the day with some friends at the beach.

JJ groans from behind you and you’re suddenly aware of his arm wrapped around your waist and his legs tangled with yours. “Why’re you up so early” he mumbles into your neck, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “Sorry, my phone woke me up” you mumble sheepishly. “Then put it off and let’s go back to sleep” he groans as he tightens his arms around you which makes your face heat.

 Just as you turn your phone off and place it on the side table, the door opens and John B’s voice floats through the room. “JJ, get up we’re leaving in 10-” he stops midway through as he catches you and JJ together, you go to tell him what happened, but he just shakes his head and smiles. “I’ll see you both up and ready in 10 minutes, Y/N, Sarah left you a spare bikini in  the bathroom if you need it.” He says cheerfully as he closes the door before you can finish saying thanks.

JJ groans and throws his arm over his eyes before he smirks and lets out a huff of laughter which sends you both into fits of laughter. After you all get ready and are on your way to the beach, you and JJ spend your time talking and catching up with one another, being around the same age you both knew of each other but had never been particularly close. You come to loathe that as you find out just how funny and caring JJ is as a person.

When you reach the beach, you see that JJ had packed a spare board for you. Your heart warms at the gesture as he carries both to the water. The waves aren’t particularly high right now so as you both paddle in, you’re comfortable enough to ride a few of the smaller ones. As they get higher, you let JJ catch a few before he comes back to help you. You spend around an hour letting JJ manoeuvre you to get a good position on the board and working on your technique. It takes a couple tries of you falling off the board and trusting JJ to catch you before you’re even comfortable with trying one of the waves.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe had been stressing the fuck out after waking up without you this morning. He had spent the better part of an hour trying to find you, you weren’t at his, nor at your parents. He’d only gotten it out of topper that he saw you leaving in a car after the party ended so safe to assume he was losing his shit. Where the fuck had you possibly have gone? Who could you have gone with? You didn’t have any friends other than him, and he knows that none of the guys at the party would have tried to sleep with you when  they knew you inadvertently belonged to him.

Mind you, when you finally bothered to answer his dozen calls and texts, all you had sent was “I’m okay don’t worry, I’m spending the day at the beach with some friends, I’ll see you tomorrow!” like hell you would. Who did you think he was? He was not going to let you just flounce around anywhere when there were people that could hurt you. Also, these “friends” you spoke about just about made him angry enough to fuel the urge to kill someone. Who could you possibly be talking about? All the people you two spent your time with were either at home still or at his place which he knew could only mean you were at the beach with those dirty fucking pogues.

You were gonna do Rafe’s head in, running off from him and the party to hang out with them? He scoffed at the thought. They didn’t know you like he knew you. They wouldn’t treat you as well as he did. Thinking about that dick John B that had roped his stupid fucking sister into their plans made his blood boil at the thought that they could be doing the same to you. The thought only made him speed faster to the beach.

Once he got there, oh was his blood definitely boiling. Fucking JJ. With his scummy little hands all over your body, in one of the tiniest swimsuits he’d ever seen you in. God, you looked beautiful. It was hard to dwell on that fact when all he could see was you laughing and splashing around with JJ whilst he stood on the beach glaring daggers at the blonde boy’s figure.

“Y/N!” he bellowed across the beach, and he gloated in the horror that washed over your face as you turned to look at the beach with JJ’s stupid fucking arms still wrapped around your waist. You try to smile and wave at him, but his anger must show on his face as you drop your hand and look  at him in confusion. “Come here!” he yells again and watches as you turn to JJ to ask a question, the blonde idiot in question just shrugs and smiles up at you.

He watches as you take a deep breath before you turn to him and shake your head whilst yelling a “NO” across the beach. His jaw clenches at your statement as he continues glaring. “I’m not playing around Y/N. COME. HERE.” He yells again and watches as JJ tells you something softly that you laugh at before you turn to him deviously before yelling out, “Fuck off Rafe” with a big smile on your face.

He inhales sharply as his gaze hardens on the both of you. Fine. You wanna be like that? Okay. He’s not letting you get off that easy. He smirks at the thought as he stalks off to his car to drive off. He’ll wait you out if he has to, and when you do come out. You’lll regret ever using that tone with him.

#juliwrites #obx #obx fic #obx fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron x reader hurt/comfort #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff

[moshpitgamma]

My Sunflower|| John Dory x Fiancé!Reader

Warnings:Angst+Fluff

(This is my first real fanfic so Plss don’t be TOO harsh)

YALL ITS LONG OK😭

——————————————————————

“John! I’m home!” Said the exhausted troll walking through the door of their shared apartment. “Huh? Damn it’s 9pm.” Y/n said checking the time. “Hun, You here?” They screamed again wondering why their fiancé wasn’t answering. When they didn’t get a response they started to get anxious, but convinced themselves he went to either the studio or to hang out with his brothers.

The clock finally hits 11:03pm and still there isn’t a sign of JD. “Why isn’t he answering his phone?” You said with worry laced in your voice. His brothers also didn’t answer their phones for god knows what. Now you’re in full panic mode pacing back and forth in the dining room blowing UP his phone with messages and calls. After your many failed attempts of contacting him you finally decided to call the only person you KNEW that was gonna pick up. So you called his grandma.

Once she answered you tried to hide your anxiousness and your panicked voice, but she caught on to it quickly. “Hi Mrs. Rosie, do you know where John is? I haven’t spoke to him since this morning before I went to work.” You asked frantically hoping that she would cure the pulsating adrenaline going through your body. When you finished your nauseating questions the silence you both held was fueling it like you were going to burst. When the never ending silence finally came to an end a sigh was heard. "Hun Bun��.JD left hours ago after their embarrassing show fail." she told you with reassurance and empathy. She then continued to tell you how and what happened between the brothers. The last thing you ever heard from her was “Sweetie just give it time.” So you waited…

And waited….

And waited….

Until 20 years have passed and still no sign of John. You were invited to the royal wedding of King Grisel and Bridget and was currently trying to find a dress. While rampaging you closet like a mad woman you come across and unfamiliar bagged dress. When you took it out you stared at it with tears welling up in your eyes. It was your dress he proposed to you in. It was admired in jewels and yellow sunflower like petals and soft like satin and silk. It was one of a kind. Your debating stopped instantly and you proceeded to put on the dress.

FAST FORWARD TO WEDDING :>

“We are gathered here today t-.” “STOP THE WEDDING!” A random voice yelled…

You felt like your heart was going to jump out your chest from all the adrenaline rushing. Trying to force your tears down you finally built enough courage to turn around and look to where everyone else was looking. When you finally saw who it was your tears finally escaped their haunted and sorrowful chamber. He was there……

Standing in front of Branch?

Trying to pick him up?

You didn’t wanna get noticed in this state so you turned to leave but you felt a hand grab your flushed smaller ones. It was Branch..”Are you ok?”he asked knowing you weren’t. “I’m ok.” You said quickly dismissing his attempts of comfort. Before you could leave you heard a nickname you never knew you would hear again. “My sunflower?” He must’ve felt the tension he created so he hurried to you and begged you too listen to his explanations and excuses. You couldn’t do nothing, BUT listen so you gave him 3 minutes. “The reason I left was because Brozone was turning into a disaster and I needed to just space myself away for a while!”

You didn’t know whether to be mad or sad or HELL even glad but you knew he was trying to get you to understand. “But did you have to go?” Tears welling up..

Silence…….

“Did you have to leave me alone without telling me ANYTHING?!!?”

“I-“ you didn’t let him finish before you started walking off letting the emotions and realization sink in. He knew he fucked up… He couldn’t let you leave…. He needed his flower…He ran up to you and hugged you as hard as he could to prevent you from leaving and cried like hell was dragging him away from the heaven he created with you. “Sunflower PLEASE, I promise I’ll never leave you again!!” He repeated like his life depended on it. You slowly started to give in and soothed him. “Please Hun, I promise I’ll pro-“ He couldn’t even get done with his sentence before feeling the feeling he oh so missed….

Your lips…

“Please Don’t leave me again.” You said barely above a whisper and your teary E/C eyes looked at him.

He smiled warmly and responded with nothing but sincerity..”Of course not my sunflower.”

THE ENDDDDDDD☺️🫶🏿

#trolls #brozone #brozone x reader #trolls branch #john dory #John dory x reader #trolls john dory #trolls band together

[quackity-4k]

Soulmate Trolls AU made by me and @rubizuu_ on twt! True Colors AU Where every troll is born with dull colors rather than being super colorful. They only gain their bright colors once their soulmate confesses to them. (This is Brozone and Fleek centric [also somewhat Broppy]). In this AU people look down on those who haven't found their soulmate because in a way they're "incomplete" and somewhat shun them. They push them away from their villages, and while they're still welcomed to parties and around, people still glare at them and show signs of disgust when around them.

Brozone never broke up, but John Dory was so worried about their image that he had his brothers paint themselves and dye their hair the best they could when going out or performing. They did so well that they began to raise the ranks in society because of how young they were and how they had been able to complete their souls so quickly. They're asked for advice and just treated as superior. Branch is the only brother who doesn't do these things and kept his dull colors, thinking that his brothers all had their true colors the entire time as none of them wanted to risk telling him.

Poppy hasn't found her soulmate, but is still their princess, she doesn't care much for the treatment she's given and how other trolls treat each other because she's too busy taking care of the king and getting ready to be queen. When Brozone makes their way up the ranks she meets Branch who was the only brother who hadn't fallen to the 'plan' of John Dory. They fall in love with some time and get their colors. The village celebrates their future queen finally being complete and throw a massive party.

Before the party however, Branch goes to find his brothers and catches them readjusting the colors of their fur and hair. He's kind of shocked, but doesn't hesitate to tell Poppy because in his eyes people who didn't work for their place in society didn't deserve to be there. Peppy worked to save trolls and help them regardless of their colors, Poppy did her best to work with those around her and was kind to everyone around her, his brothers? They lied to get their status.

When he tells Poppy, she tells her father who ends up calling for a village meeting. Brozone is called up without knowledge of what was happening. Everyone was there, even those who were viewed as outcasts. The stood in front of everyone and Peppy called for water to be drenched on them. Since the dye and paint was so fresh it washed away with ease, their duller colors showing through. The are immediately exiled.

Fleek comes more into play within the story and after exile, but we'll work on a little comic since it's easier to draw it than write it all.

#TrueColorsAU #trolls floyd #trolls creek #trolls #trolls band together #fleek trolls #trolls fleek #i love fleek #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls poppy #trolls branch #trolls broppy #trolls fanart

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hii love! Can you write ‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you.’’ with JJ Maybank?? Thank you❤️

I miss my boy JJ <3 Only three weeks until we see him again!! Who is excited for the new season?

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

Being stranded on 'Poguelandia' made you realize how you took many things for granted — especially your morning croissant and coffee — and the privilege of a hot shower and a soft pillow.

When you’ve lived your whole life in comfort, it’s hard to suddenly have nothing. When you escaped the boat with the rest of the pogues, you didn’t think you would come across an inhabited island and have to stay there for a while. It’s only been five days and you were starting to feel like the two kids in The Blue lagoon.

Everyone was in survival mode and helping in any way they could. You and Kiara had built a shelter for the night, Sarah and Cleo had gathered wood and some small fruits while the boys made good use of their fishing skills…and a makeshift spear.

It also made you reevaluate things. Like your relationship with JJ.

You had broken up shortly after Sarah and John B. were declared dead, both too emotional and heartbroken to be in a relationship. The ‘death’ of your friends had caused a massive crack in the group. Even the relationship between Kie and Pope had its hard moments, but unlike you and JJ, they were still together.

‘’I still love him. I never stopped,’’ you confessed to Kiara one late night on the beach while everyone was asleep.

Your eyes were on JJ, watching him sleeping soundly after sending your heart into panic earlier that day. Doing stupid shit was typical of JJ, but when he jumped from that cliff and he didn’t come up to the surface immediately, you got really scared. After almost drowning and definitely having a minor undiagnosed concussion, you could barely stand not having your eyes on him.

Kiara laid her head on your shoulder. ‘’I know.’’

Everybody knows.

If JJ had not been there, surviving on the island would’ve been harder. He was the sunshine in your life, always there to turn your grumpy frown into a smile after you had the worst sleep of your life and sand in places where sand should not be.

You’ve spent a lot of time together on Poguelandia, looking for coconuts and cracking them, teaching you how to catch a fish or watching the stars on nights neither of you could find sleep. It was nice to be close to him again.

But it wasn’t close enough.

‘’Can I eat that?’’ you asked, standing by a small bush of wild berries.

‘’If the berries are white, yellow, and green, don’t eat them,’’ JJ said, not even looking at the berries you were talking about. ‘’Some red berries are poisonous too, so be careful. If you eat a harmful berry, there could be great consequences. Red berries are roughly 50% safe to eat. And, if they are in clusters, they’re usually bad.’’

You nodded. Noted. ‘’Can I eat this one?’’

Growing up on the wealthier side of the island, you didn't know a lot of surviving tips. You didn’t even know how to pierce a coconut. Fortunately for you, JJ was there to help you out.

A small chuckle left JJ’s lips and he came over to you, checking the berries and plucking one from the branch. ‘’Open up, milady.’’ He held the small fruit before your mouth and you allowed him to feed it to you. ‘’If it taste weird, spit it out.’’

He was kidding. JJ would never let you eat a poisonous berry. He only said that to mess with you.

A call of your and JJ’s name made you whip your heads around to hear Pope saying the girls were swimming by the rocks and he and John B. were going to fetch more wood to make a fire tonight. You gave him a thumbs up and they left through the tall trees.

You plucked more berries from the branches, trying to calm your screaming stomach. Your body was not used to the small portion of food a deserted island had to offer.

While you were eating, JJ was trying to gather his words together. You hadn’t talked about what happened on the boat when he got knocked over, about when you saved his life. It was a difficult thing to think about and everyone respected your silence, but JJ wanted to thank you. If you had not jumped overboard and kept his head above water, he probably would have drowned.

‘’I…I didn't tell you, but what you did on the boat was brave as fuck,’’ he started, shifting his feet in the sand nervously. ‘’Jumping overboard like that? I wish I could've seen that.’’ A smile curled on his lips, imagining for a moment. ‘’Thanks for saving me.’’

When you saw him in the water, face down and not moving, you didn't hesitate and leaped. You would do again if you had to.

‘’Next time someone swings at you with a machete, you duck. I don’t want to play superhero again.’’ Your eyes welled up with tears and JJ pulled you against him. He didn't smell like weed and teen-boy deodorant anymore, just salt water and sweat, but he embrace still felt like JJ.

‘’I’ll try to remember.’’

‘’I almost gave up,’’ you confessed against his shoulder, ‘’but I wasn't going to abandon you. If you go down, I go down too.’’

JJ tightened his hold around you. He felt so lucky to have you in his shitty life.

You slipped your hands through the haphazardly cut holes of his shirt and spreading your fingers on his back. JJ went soft under your touch, his head falling into the space between his shoulder and neck. 

‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you. I always will.’’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx   @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @katsukis1wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue   @acornacreacure  

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #Outer Banks #outer banks jj #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow

[jade-green-butterfly]

Just watched Trolls Band Together...ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT!!😍😍😍(SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!)

Oooh, my Harmonia...just got back from watching Trolls Band Together and my GOODNESS!!🤩✨🤩✨🤩Words cannot describe how amazed and engrossed I was into the whole movie!!💖💖💖Was it worth the seven month wait?😗TOTALLY!!😍😍😍It was absolutely fantastic, and I LOVED and enjoyed every single moment of it!!🥰

I was really getting into scenes, got quite a few laughs out of some scenes and was touched the wholesome ones~💕Branch's brothers were just as enjoyable on screen - John Dory still being my fave as he grew throughout the movie (LOVE Rhonda too!😁) Spruce/Bruce is such a lovable family man, Clay was (serious)ly awesome in his scenes and the tender moments between Floyd and Branch really got me...especially with the flashbacks...🥲 It was so great to see Grandma Rosiepuff again, though I do wish there was more feeling shown when her death was mentioned, hopefully the brothers will come to terms with it more in time...and Branch's bunker plan for them all, d'awww...~🥺So he DID build the bunker for all his family...😭 Viva was such an amazing character as well as she adorably bonded with Poppy (ooh, dear King Peppy, I know you were heartbroken at the time but c'mon...😅) and finally braved out of her comfort zone, and Tiny Diamond going through his big boy phase was real cute and funny😂Bridget and King Gristle were great too, it was lovely seeing them again along with the Bergens!😊 I had a feeling Velvet and Veneer were luring BroZone to them, they were such good villains with their goals and personalities but I am glad Floyd got through to Veneer in the end, and he saw the wrong he and his sister were doing, and came clean to everyone. And Crimp was a cutie and deserves better🫂(glad she got a hug from Poppy and stood up to Velvet and Veneer in the end😌) And it was also great to see some of the Snack Pack again too, including Prince D and especially my darling Cooper too, eeeee~!😍💗💗💗He looked so dapper!💝🥰 Speaking of Poppy, she was just as darling as ever~!😚I seriously LOVED her relationship and her undying love for Branch blossom so much here whilst supporting and fangirling for him all the way as they interacted, bless her~😊And that sweet BROPPY KISS!!🤭...🤩I was going 'YES!! FINALLY!!' under my breath, grinning from ear to ear in that moment~💙💖And that moment when I thought he was gonna pop the question during the performance during the end...hehe, maybe another time~😉But I certainly didn't expect *NSYNC to show up in their trollsonas near the end...what a twist!😮

The chase scene and perfect family harmony scene were truly epic and it really shows, it doesn't have to be perfect as long as we're altogether~💞💓All the locations of the brothers were stunning to look at, with Vacay Island and Spruce/Bruce's family, the creepy abandoned Bergen golf course with the Putt-Putt Trolls, and finally Mount Rageous - a whole lot of wonder to take in!💖Walt Dohrn, Gina Shay and the DreamWorks Animation Crew did such an fantastic job on everything!✨🌟✨And that huge BroZone hug...again, d'aaaaww~!😭

As for the songs...I'll be downloading the rest of the album now because they were all wonderful to listen to!🎧🎶Real boyband and 90's nostalgia~✨I know they're gonna be stick in my head for a long time, hehe!😆I have so many faves, especially all versions of 'Better Place'~😚

A greatly HUGE thank-you in a million to everyone Trolls for such a fantastic movie, which I wonderfully enjoyed all the way through, from start to finish!🌟👏👏👏🌟AAAHH!!💓💗💓I JUST LOVED IT ALL!! 😍🤩😍I give it a solid 9.5 out of 10!!😊👍✨Totally made my weekend~!🫶🥰

#dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls 3 spoilers #movie spoilers #brozone #branch #poppy #queen poppy #branch x poppy #broppy #john dory #spruce #bruce #clay #floyd #viva #velvet and veneer #tiny diamond #movie review #movie billboard #jade-green-butterfly