#dirty enemies to lovers

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Anon request - "Begging for Colby enemies to lovers"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, drugs and alcohol consumption, threats being made, kind of a dark aesthetic, reader has a 'bratty' attitude, mentions of weapons such as knives and guns, mentions of parent death, semi forced actions, unprotected sex, oral (f rec), hair pulling, biting, scratching, filth

Word count: 11.8k | not edited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

"You've got to be kidding me." You mumble into your slim champagne glass before taking a sip. Your friend, Leslie, looks up at you, "Who?" She glances back and scoffs, turning back to face you, "Of course he's here."

Your eyes stay on him, tracking him as he walks up to the bar, nodding as the bartender gets his usual.

"He has no business being here." You shake your head and Leslie nods, "Mhm. He'll get what's coming to him. Don't worry."

You look back up, tensing up slightly as you no longer have eyes on him.

"Ladies."

Your eyes lock on your Leslie's, "I knew this place was going downhill." She glances over at the man standing at the table, looking between the two of you, "Why do you say that, y/n?" She swirls her wine in her glass and you lean back, glancing over at him, "They're just letting anyone in here now, aren't they?"

"Yeah?" He questions as he sits down next to you, "I see they let anyone who has a bratty attitude in, too."

You roll your eyes, laughing once before finishing your drink, "Last I checked, this is my father's casino. What do you want. Are you here to accuse him again?" You look over at him and he shrugs, extending his arm on the top of the booth behind you, "Nah, I cleared that up." He sips his drink with a shrug, "Just wanted to talk."

"About what?" You stare at him and he chuckles, "Maybe we should have this conversation else where."

You shake your head, resting your elbows on the table, "Here's fine."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "You know.." he looks over at you, "I really wasn't giving you a choice, darling."

You turn to him, leaning in, "See, the gun that's strapped to my thigh tells me different."

He licks his lips, a smirk growing over them as he turns to look at you, "Are you threatening me?" His tone lowers to match yours and you tilt your head, "Not unless we have a problem."

You lean back, grabbing the fresh glass of champagne that was delivered to your table, "Do we have a problem Mr. Brock?"

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head, "Nope. No problem."

"Good. So then this can wait until tomorrow when I'm not trying to enjoy my night with a very dear friend." You lift your finger off your glass, pointing to Leslie.

He looks over at her and back to you, "Mm. Alright." He stands up, turning to face you, "You're going to wish you spoke with me tonight."

"I think I'll manage." You give him a forced smile and watch as he walks back up to the bar.

"What was that all about?" Leslie leans in and your eyes stay on him, "I don't know." You shake your head, taking a deep breath as you move your focus from him to her, "I don't know."

·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Colby Brock.

That name left a bitter taste on your tongue and an even bitter hatred in the pits of your heart.

You hated him.

You hated the way he speaks, the way he walks, the way he talks, everything about him just gets under your skin and you can't stand it.

He has always rubbed you the wrong way and he knows it too, which is what makes it so much worse. He uses it against you, feeding his massive ego with the anger that radiates off of you when you see him.

It also doesn't help that he disrespected your father infront of his colleagues. Making your father out to be a complete fool.

If someone disrespects him. They disrespect you, too, and that's something you don't take lightly.

"Y/n. Sweetie." Your father voice echos in the large open stairwell, "Can you come see me for a moment?"

"Coming!" You yell back, marking the page of your open book with your bookmark, smoothing out your shirt as you stand up and make your way out the door.

You smile slightly at your father's body guard as you come down the steps and he nods, "Hello, y/n." You look over to your father and he motions towards his office, "I seen you were at the casino last night."

He sits down in the big chair behind his desk and you sit down in front of it, "I was, yes."

"How was it?" He leans back, interlocking his fingers as they lay over his stomach. You nod, "It was alright. Just had a few glasses of wine with Leslie."

You look at him, a slight confusion resting on your face.

"Did you speak with Mr. Brock?" Your father's words make your jaw clench, "Nope." 

"And why not?" He looks at you and you shrug, "Because I hate him."

Your father chuckles and shakes his head, "Sweetie." Your father sighs, "You have to let some grudges go."

"Well, this isn't one of them." Your eyes move to his and he nods, "I understand why you're frustrated with him, but he came back the next day and completely bought my forgiveness."

You nod, "And I understand that that is how it works for you, but I don't exactly see him on his knees begging for mine."

Your father chuckles, "My dear, are your father's daughter."

"What is it that you need exactly, dad?" You cross your arms, hoping he just gets to the point of why you were pulled away from your reading.

"I need you to do something for me." He folds his hands together and leans back, "I'll be honest, it's something you aren't going to like, but I just need you to remind yourself that it's for me. For us."

"If it has anything to do with Colby.. no. Hard, no." You shake your head and your father sighs, "I need his help and he needs mine." He stares at you, waiting for you to response but you don't, so he breaks the silence, "..and as you know, I am one of the most successful business owners in Vegas."

You loved your father, but you hated when he used his work against you, and he wasn't talking about the casino work.

He was talking about what happens underground, because if he goes down, you're going down too.

"Yeah.. I know." You mumble and look down.

"Now. Have you changed your mind? Will you hear me out?" He watches as you look around the room, nodding with a sigh, "Yeah, yeah I guess."

"Great. I need you to accompany Colby to a special.. party."

You fight hard for control your face from expressing how much you hated that words that came from his lips, "A party? Why?"

"This party is Colby's thing and he's requested you as his date." Your father pulls out a folder and opens it, "But, it just so happens that the people who are hosting it, have something I want. Something I need." He holds up a picture of a small golden box, "I need this."

You snicker at his hypocritical words.

"What's that about?" He asks and you shake your head, "Just think it's kind of funny that you told me to let my grudge against Colby go, but yet.." you motion out in front of you, "..here you are."

Your father sighs, taking a moment before he looks up, "This is different, y/n. Not some grudge, Colby didn't steal anything from you, and like I said.. he requested you as his date, and he's helping me so it's the least I could do in return."

You laugh slightly, "Even after I threatened him with a gun last night?"

Your father's eyes go wide, "Y-you what?" He stares at you, glancing to Rio before laughing, "Fucking Christ, y/n."

"I didn't know what he wanted and I sure as hell wasn't going anywhere alone with him. I don't trust him." You cross your leg over the other and your father closes the folder, "He wanted to ask you himself, try and get you to trust him. But I see that didn't work so I'll have a dress delivered for you tomorrow morning."

He slips the folder back in the drawer and lays his hand down, "You're going and that's final."

Rio steps up beside you, "C'mon."

You look up at him, rolling your eyes, "you're not even going to give me a choice?" You look at your father and he shrugs, "Well, sweetie. I was, until you started with that bratty attitude of yours."

You scoff, standing up, "I'm on a roll. First Colby, now you?" You look at Rio, "Do you want to make it a third?"

"Y/n. Just go. Please. Don't make this any harder." Rio nods towards the door and you walk out, shutting the door before Rio can and you pull out your phone, immediately calling Leslie.

"Hey, find out what douche bag wanted last night?" She answers and you laugh, "I sure did." You slowly walk up the steps, "Basically, I have to be his date for some bullshit job that he's doing for my dad."

"Can't he do it himself?" She asks, "That's so stupid."

"Yeah, you're telling me. Oh, and apparently I'm bratty. Who knew." You laugh and walk into your room, closing the door, "Apparently these people throwing this party have something my dad wants -

Or needs." You sigh, "I don't know."

"Why do you have to go, though?" She asks and you shrug to yourself, "Because Colby is helping my dad get this back and it's the least he can do for him because Colby requested me or whatever.." You plop down on your bed, "Who knows. My bratty attitude cut it short."

She laughs, "Yeah.. you're really on a roll."

"That's what I said!" You pull your phone away, "Hang on, I'm getting another call." You hit the green circle, "Hello?"

"Just thought I'd like to say thank you for agreeing to be my date tomorrow night."

You know the voice, it was like nails on a chalkboard to you, "Bye." You pull the phone away and you can hear him yelling, "Wait, wait, wait!"

"You got three seconds to tell me why you called me." You chew on your lip, bouncing your leg as anger rolls through your body.

"I just wanted to tell you myself, that I'm happy you actually accepted my invitation."

"Fuck you."

"Whoa, hey. Easy there, sweetheart. I'm just trying to be nice." Colby chuckles and you roll your eyes, "Take it to someone who actually cares."

"Come on, y/n. You can't hate me forever."

"Watch me." You hang up, going back to your call with Leslie, "So that was Colby."

"Huh!? What happened?" She asks surprised and you sigh, "To tell me all about how he's excited to spend time with me and how he's thankful I agreed to go on this date, blah, blah. Fucking blah."

A sudden twinge of integument twist in your gut and you sit up, "I kinda wanna go." You admit and she laughs at your words, "Did you just hear yourself?"

You laugh, "No I mean so I can get this box before Colby does. Prove to my dad that he doesn't need Colby.."

Hopefully she buys that. You actually were kind of excited to go, until it hit you that you're going with Colby again, "Fuck, I don't want to go at all."

"Then don't."

You laugh at Leslie's words, "If that was even possible, I would, but I don't think I have a choice. You know my father."

"Yeah." Leslie sighs, "I do."

"He's having dresses brought over in the morning. I have to pick one and if I know my dad, they won't be anywhere near my style." You stare up at the ceiling, mind spinning about the possibilities of tomorrow night.

"I'm sure they won't be that bad. Let me know which one you pick. I'm sure it'll be alright." Leslie yawns, "I'm heading to bed."

"Alright. Love ya."

"Love you!"

·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Y/N." Your father calls, waking you up, "I need you down here!"

You let out a groan, "Coming!" You kick the blankets off of you, sitting up as you rub your eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Your hands snap away from your face, glaring at the figure sitting in the chair by the window. You blink a few times, "Jesus Christ. If you're planning to kill me just fucking do it already."

"Far from that, sweetheart." Colby says moving forward to sit on the edge of the chair. You roll your eyes, "Don't call me that."

"Why not, darling?"

"Or that, fuck." You huff, "Get out. Why are you here?"

"Oh now you want to know why I'm here.." he stands up, "After you just told me to, what? Get out?" He walks over to you, standing a few inches away.

You lick your lips, rolling your eyes slightly as you sigh, "I don't need to see you anymore than I already don't want to."

Colby chuckles, reaching out to drag a hand up your bicep, "I think you want to see me."

You yank your arm away, "And why exactly would I want to see someone who humiliated not only my father but me as well?"

"I didn't humiliate you."

"Sure you didn't. You disrespect my father, you disrespect me, now get out before I call Rio in here to kick your ass."

Colby chuckles, "Please. I think your father would be quite pleased that I'm in here with you."

"I beg to differ." You turn, grabbing a sweatshirt to throw over your tank top clad body, "Don't make this anymore painful than it already is."

"Who said it was painful? I'm actually very excited about tonight." Colby crosses his arms, smiling as he watches you put your hair into a bun, "I can't wait to see which dress you choose."

"Of course you already seen them." You roll your eyes and he scoffs, "Please, you act like I'd let him pick out something ugly for you to wear."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Thanks." You scoff and turn, stopping before you open the door, "You better be gone by the time I come back."

"Trust me. I will. I don't want to spoil the surprise of which dress you bring up. Saving the excitement for later." He winks and you make a face, shaking your head as you make your way down the steps.

"Ah, morning sweetheart." Your father opens his arms, motioning at the four dressed that are on a mobile clothing rack, "Take your pick, my darling daughter."

You smirk slightly, shaking your head as you look over the fact that he's trying to suck up from last night, for his own good.

Your eyes move over the dresses, "This one is too fluffy." You point to the pale pink one, "I don't like all the ruffles on that one." You look away from the dark green one to a light blue one, "I don't like this one either. It's not long enough, nor short enough."

"Do you have to be so picky, my dear?" Your father sighs lowly and you shrug, "Sorry. I just.." your eyes move to the black gown that's hiding behind the blue one, "Wait.."

You take the gown off the rack, looking over the soft black fabric, "Can I try this one on?" Your father nods, "Of course you can."

You nod, walking back up to your room. You bite your lip, slowly opening the door to make sure Colby is actually gone.

By the time your door is fully open and Colby is in no line of sight, you hear the door open and your father greets Colby, "There he is! Come in, Mr. Brock."

You move into your room, shutting the door and making sure to lock it. You lay the dress down on the bed, slipping off your pajamas before pulling the dress up your legs and slipping your arms through the thin straps.

You walk over to the mirror, admiring the black spaghetti strap dress, "Oh." You bite your lip as you shift your weight, watching as your leg is revealed through one high slit going up the side, "Shit."

You couldn't lie, this dress made you feel beautiful, powerful, too.

"Y/n." Your father knocks on the door, "Hows it fit?"

You walk over, opening the door and stepping back, "it's alright." You look down and your father gasps, "You look beautiful, sweetheart."

You smile, still slightly hating him for making you go to this bullshit party, "Thanks, dad." You lay your hand on the door, "Why is Colby here?"

He chuckles, "Oh yeah, we're just going over some stuff about the party tonight. Filling him in on where the object of my needs may be hiding."

"Shouldn't I be filled in, too? Considering I'm also going." You shrug and your father nods, "You know what. You're right. Come down to my office when you've changed."

You watch him turn and walk away and you shut your door, changing quickly before going back down stairs.

You knock on the office door and Rio opens it, "Good morning, y/n."

"Morning, Rio." You move into the room and clench your jaw when you see the back of Colby's head. He turns, "Good morning."

You roll your eyes, not giving him another word.

"Sweetheart, Colby said good morning." Your father stares you down as you walk over to the chair next to Colby, "I heard him."

"Stubborn one she is." Your father looks at Colby and he shakes his head as he holds his hand up, "Don't worry about it Mr. y/l/n."

"Okay. So where were we?" Your father looks down at the folder, "Right, right." He sighs and looks up, "I'm going to have to say that it's in one of these back rooms here. Y/n." Your father looks at you and you look at him, "Yes?"

"You still know how to pick locks right?"

You feel Colby look at you with such surprise, "You can pick locks?"

You nod, "Yes. Ever since you taught me." You motion to your dad and he smirks, "That's my girl. You're probably going to need to pick at least three of them."

You nod, "Okay." You tilt your head, "Won't these people know who I am? Being your daughter and all?"

Your father shakes his head, "They shouldn't. These people are very underground. None of them have that social media stuff like you do."

You laugh slight, "alright."

"So you'll get there, mingle around. Colby will know a lot of people there." Your father motions to him and he nods, "That's right."

You roll your eyes, "Surprised you haven't wronged them yet, either."

"Y/n." Your father's tone is stern, "Can you just.. please. Keep your side comments to your damn self."

"Yes, father." You cross your leg over the other, interlocking your fingers to lay over your knee, "I'm all ears. My lips are sealed."

He rolls his eyes, looking back to Colby, "So we've pretty much gone over all of it already, so you'll just need to go in there with confidence and I promise I'll have your reward when that golden trophy of a box is sitting on my desk."

"I won't let you down, sir." Colby nods and you're fighting the urge, hard, not to mock him.

"Y/n. Do you have any questions?" Your father looks at you and as you open your mouth to speak, he cuts you off, "Yes. You still have to go."

"Then no." You huff quietly and your father nods, "alright, so it's set then. Mr. Brock will be back here around six tonight to pick you up, so be ready by then."

You nod and motion to the door, "Can I go now?" He nods, "Yeah, you're free to go."

·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You sat at your vanity, staring at your freshly makeup painted face as you dreadfully await the arrival of Colby.

You bend down, buckling the ankle strap of your gold strappy heels before standing up and walking over to the mirror to give yourself one last look.

You turn your head as you hear the faint sound of your father greeting Colby.

"Fuck." You take a deep breathe, "You have no choice." You tell yourself, "You have no choice. You have to go." You grab your purse, checking to see if you have everything.

Lipstick, check.

Phone, check.

Compact mirror, check.

Lock picking set, check.

Gun, just in case, check.

You brush your hair off your shoulder, letting out a long sigh, "Okay." You walk over to the door, slowly opening it and closing it behind you once you step out.

You make your way down, heels clacking with each step.

That draws the attention Colby and your father have on each other, to you. Colby's mouth parts slightly, "That's a beautiful dress, sir."

Your father nods, "That's the only one she didn't have anything negative to say about."

Colby chuckles, eyes on you as you walk over to them, "You look amazing."

"I know." You smile as you look at your father, "I guess we'll be back." He nods, "I'll be waiting." He leans in to peck your cheek, "Be nice."

"Yeah Colby." You snicker and your father tilts his head, "I was talking to you."

"Yeah, yeah." You bat the air as you walk away, going towards the door. As you reach for the knob, Colby's hand cuts you off, "Allow me."

"Mm." You roll your eyes, walking out and down the steps to the blacked out Audi that's sits at the bottom of the steps, "This is yours?" You point and look over at Colby.

He smirks, "You act like you're surprised or something." He walks over, opening the passenger door, "After you."

You fight back a smirk as you slide your body into the vehicle, moving your dress before he closes the door. You look around at the black and red interior as he walks around to get into the drivers seat, "All set?"

You nod, "Don't have a choice."

The whole ride was silent. You didn't bother to make small talk because you really didn't want to hear what Colby had to say.

"Alright, darling. I think we're here."

You look up, seeing a very lit up venue. It was super luxurious, but it's definitely a place you and Leslie would be seen at so you're not surprised.

"This place is huge." You mumble as your eyes scan over the brightly lit windows, "Jesus."

"Yeah, Oliver and his wife, Eloise go all out for these things." Colby gets in line for the valet and sighs, "They're good people, or were good people."

His voice trails off and you look over at him, mainly asking because you're nosey, "What happened?"

He chuckles, "They just.. think they own everything, I guess."

You felt like there was something he wasn't telling you, but at the same time, you just cared about getting in and getting out as fast as possible.

"Yeah, I know people like that." You look out the window, getting ready to get out. Colby chuckles, "Was that a shot at me? I feel like that was a shot at me."

You snort, "If the shoe fits, Colby."

He shakes his head, smirking as he pulls up and puts the car in park. He gets out and you watch as he walks around to open your door, "Come on." He holds his hand out and you hesitate at first, but you take it, letting go as soon as you're out of the car.

"Last name sir?" The valet attendant asks pulling out a little card.

"Brock. First name Colby."

The valet attendant nods, "Good to see you, Mr. Brock. Enjoy tonight."

Colby's arm snakes around your waist, "Plan on it." He winks at the guy and walks you up the wide red carpet.

"I hope you don't plan on it with me." You mumble with a laugh and Colby sighs, "you never know, y/n. Feelings might change by the end of the night. " He smiles down at you before walking you through the doors.

"Highly doubt that." You mumble as you walk with him. Your eyes scan across the room, watching as the rich mingle with the other rich.

Colby leans down, pulling you from your gaze, "Need a drink?" You nod, "Yeah. Please." He walks you over to the long bar on the side, sitting down on the bar stool as he waits for the bartender to come up.

"Brock. Where the hell ya been buddy?" The blonde bartender says leaning in to Colby, "We miss ya around here."

Colby chuckles, pulling you closer to him, "oh ya know." He nods towards you and the bartender's eyebrows raise as his eyes scan over you.

"Been keepin' her hidden from guys like you." Colby jokes and the bartender laughs, "I can see why." He whistles, "She's gorgeous."

You laugh slightly, "Thanks." You glance down at Colby's hand resting on your hip, fighting the urge to bat it away. Mainly because the more of a fight you put up, the longer you'll be here.

"What can I get ya to drink?"

"I'll just take a chardonnay, please." You look over your shoulder at a group of people who's growing louder.

"That's the hosts." Colby confirms and he looks back, "I'll just do a whiskey. Neat, please."

"Chardonnay and whiskey. Coming right up." The bartender nods as he grabs two different glasses before walking away.

"You know him or something?" You mumble as your eyes scan over his half buttoned button up. He nods, "Yeah, his name is Sam. We grew up together but we ended up on two different paths, so the only time we see each other is when I come to these things." He sighs, "I came to a lot of them, then I stopped for a while and now we're here."

You look up at him, nodding, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Wasn't really a sob story."

You scoff, "that. That right there." You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you look away. Colby chuckles, "What are you talking about?"

"You're just an asshole."

"I'm the asshole?" Colby laughs and you raise your brows, "Are you saying that I'm the asshole?"

He shakes his head, "No I would ne-"

He's cut off by Sam bringing your glasses, "Whiskey for the gentleman." He sets Colby's glass down and looks over at you with a smile, "Chardonnay for the lady."

"Thank you." You smile, taking a sip of it, "That's very good." Sam nods, "Oh yes. Best seller here at the old Montgomery House."

"They treating you right?" Colby asks and Sam's face goes soft, "Yeah. For the most part." Colby leans in, "Say the word and I-"

"Colby. It's fine. I'm good."

Their exchange makes you feel like there's more to the Montgomery's that everyone been leading on.

You watch Sam's facial expression, he remains calm and cool and Colby looks like he's getting mad, "I'm serious Sam."

"I'm serious, Colby. I'm good." Sam's eyes move over to people walking up behind you and he nods, "Enjoy your evening."

Colby look away and smiles, "Oliver. How's it going?" Colby spins you around subtly and places you between his legs, "Go with it." He whispers before a very fancy dressed couple walks up, "Mr. Brock. How are you this evening?"

Colby nods, sipping his whiskey, "Can't complain." He motions to you, "This is my fiancé, y/n." You freeze& slightly at the words, forcing a smile as you reach out to take Oliver's hand, "Hello, Mr. Montgomery."

He nods, "Y/n." He brings your hand to his lips, pressing them gently to his knuckles before stepping aside, "This is my wife, Eloise."

The short woman gives a nod, "Hello."

You smile, "I love your earrings." She smiles and reaches up to lay her hand under one of the dangly diamonds, "Oh, these old things." She laughs slightly, "I've had these things for ages."

"Well they're beautiful." You continue to smile and she nods, "Thank you, honey." She looks over at Colby, "You're staying out of trouble, I presume?"

Colby nods, "Yes ma'am. No trouble at all."

She nods, "That's what I like to see."

You now realize that you have absolutely no backstory on anyone here, especially Colby. You just have the idea of what you painted of him in your mind.

"Of course." Colby finishes his drink and sets it down, motioning to Sam for another one. You swirl your wine in your glass, sipping on it as Colby and Oliver continue to talk.

"Your dress is absolutely beautiful. It's so simple, yet the way the dress lays is beyond stunning." Eloise looks it up and down before meeting your eyes.

You tilt your head, "Colby actually got it for me. He said I had to wear my best dress, so.." you lay your hand on his shoulder, "You can thank him."

"Very good taste in clothing, as always." Eloise smiles and everyone's attention is caught off by someone tapping a knife to their glass, "If everyone would please put your hands together for the hosts of tonight's party, Mr. Oliver Montgomery and his very beautiful wife, Eloise."

"That's our cue." She cuts Oliver's conversation, "Come on sweetie." Oliver nods, "very good to meet you, y/n. Keep this one in check." He pats Colby's shoulder and you laugh slickly, "I'll do my best."

As soon as their backs are turned and they're making their way through the crowd, you push yourself off Colby, "What the fuck was that?"

"What was what?" He asks, bringing his glass to his lips to hide his smirk. You lean in, "You know what. Fiancé?!" Your voice is a quiet yell, "Are you fucking serious?"

He shakes his head, "Relax. Not like you'd ever want to marry me."

"Got that fucking right." You lean back against the bar, looking around as you take a big gulp. Colby stands up, "Come on. We have to find the rooms." He takes your hand in his, "Did you bring your gadget?"

"Brought a few." You snicker and Colby stops, turning to face you, "Y/n. This is serious."

You step back, "Dude, I know." You shrug, "Can't I make a joke?"

He sigh and turns, taking your hand into his again, "Not when our lives are on the line."

"What?" You stop, pulling him to you, "What the fuck did you just say?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing. Let's just-" he tries to pull you but you do your best to stay still. He looks around, nodding at people that walk by, "I'll explain as you're picking the locks open. Now come the fuck on."

You're shocked at how quickly his mood changed.

"Colby.." you ask and he ignores you as he leads you towards the back of the ball room, "Colby.." you squeeze his hand and he just holds on to yours tighter.

You sigh, throwing in the towel with trying to get his attention. You make your way to the back wall and Colby pushes the door open, "This way."

He lays a hand on your lower back as you walk through, following right behind you. He looks behind him to make sure no one followed you and sighs, "Alright. Your dad said it would probably be down one of the other hallways or something."

"Did my father threaten your life?"

He ignores the question, pulling out his phone as he looks at the slightly blurry map on the screen, "This way." He points, looking around as you round the corner, "Okay now this way."

"Colby."

"Colby.”

He stops, quickly pinning you up against the wall, "Goddamit y/n. Just fucking stop."

You stare up at him, "Let me. The fuck. Go."

"Fucking hell." He whispers and steps back as he slowly lets you go. He turns, running a hand through his hair, "Just.. Come on."

He starts to walk away and you try to piece together as to why Colby's acting so different but nothing is make sense to you.

"Here." He point to the door and looks around, "This one." You unzip your small purse, taking out your lock picking tool and you kneel down while Colby stands guard.

A few seconds later, Colby walks back up to you, "A little faster would be nice."

"Do you want to do it yourself?" You snap, keeping your eyes glued to the lock. He sighs, "Just.. hurry."

"Trying my best here, Colby." You roll your eyes, sticking your tongue out slightly as you focus. Soon you hear a click and you look up, "We're in."

He pushes the door open and inside is an empty room with nothing by a table in the middle of it.

"Your dad said there wouldn't be cameras.. why? I don't know. But.." he leans in, looking around, "I don't see anything."

You walk in after him, closing the door quietly behind you, "Why does he want this so bad?" Your fingers graze over the cool gold colored box, "What's so special about-"

Colby moves to you, laying a hand on your waist as you hear shuffling outside the door, "Don't do anything." He whispers as quietly as possible into your ear.

You nod, biting down on your lip as you wait for the sound to pass. You let out a sigh, "Fuck." Colby looks around, opening the drawer thats in the wall, "What the fuck?"

You walk over, gasping as you see a photo of your mother and father, "Why do they- that's my mom and dad."

Your mind starts racing and you shake your head, "Did they-" you lay a hand over your mouth and look at Colby, your mind going to the worst, "Did you ki-" you sigh, trying not to cry, "Are you why my mom died?"

"What? No. Of course not." Colby steps towards you and you back up, "I told you I didn't fucking trust you."

"Y/n." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "Don't. Don't do that."

"Don't come near me." You wipe your cheek and sniffle as you watch him slowly move towards you, "I'm serious Colby, stop.. do-" you reach into your purse, pulling out your loaded gun, "I said stop."

Colby freezes, holding his hands up, "Y/n."

You stare at him, gun pointing directly at his chest, "I swear to god Colby. Don't come near me until you fucking tell me what happened to my mom."

"I told you, that wasn't. Fucking. Me. I didn't know about you until a few months ago." Colby says and you laugh, "Why should I believe you?"

He drops his hands and shrugs, "You know what, y/n." He walks up to you, pressing his chest to the muzzle of the pistol, "Do it. Pull the fucking trigger." He locks his eyes with yours, "You'd be doing me a fucking favor."

You blink, breaking your stare on his eyes and you sigh, "If you didn't then who did?"

"That's not a discussion we need to have right now. We already wasted enough time. We have to get back out there." Colby grabs the box and walks over to shut the drawer.

You stare down at the floor, gun still in hand.

"Here." Colby extends his arm out, putting the picture of your mom and dad in your line of sight, "Take it." You take the picture from his hand, staring at it for a few seconds.

"We'll talk in the car, okay?" He grabs your face, tilting your head up so you look at him, "I promise."

You nod, with a sigh, "Fine." Colby takes the gun from your hand and tucks it into the back of his pants, pulling his shirt down over to hide it.

You put the picture, along with the box he gave you, and shove them into your purse before zipping it closed.

He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and sighs, "Let's just go out there. Pretend like you don't hate my fucking guys, and then we'll leave."

You nod, "yeah."

Your mind is still racing a mile a minute as Colby leads you from the room, your hand in his. All of the thoughts you've continued to push away, not think about for the last three years all come to the surface and you feel like you could puke.

"Colby I-i don't.. I don't feel good."

He stops, turning to you, a look of concern washing over his face, "Okay. Um." He looks around, "I think the bathrooms are this way."

He looks back at you, "You know I didn't do this."

"Now's not the time Colby." You close your eyes, talking yourself into not throwing up all over the floor.

He sighs, "Yeah, yeah. Come on. This way." He interlocks his fingers with yours, and leads you down the hallway you came in.

He peaks through the window, ducking down when someone walks by. He stands back up, "alright, quickly." He opens the door, slipping both you and him out and walking along the wall back towards the hall with the bathrooms.

You walk in, closing the door behind you and you walk to the sink, taking a deep breath to try and calm your panting, "fuck." You whisper as you look at yourself in the mirror.

You wipe away the mascara that lays under your eyes and you take a slow breath, breathing out slowly.

You stand up, smoothing out your dress as you debate on whether or not you're going to puke.

Yep.

You run into the stall, bending down to heave into the toilet. You sit up, pressing the button to flush and you rest your back against the wall.

You honestly feel like you're spinning with all of the thoughts running ramped through your head.

And for some reason, you believed Colby.

You stand up. Washing your hands and fixing yourself up before making your way back out. Colby pushes himself off the wall, "You okay?"

You nod, "mhm."

"Come on, y/n. You can't just-"

"God, can you stop saying that I can't hate you forever? Can you literally, for two fucking seconds understand that I maybe hate you for a reason?" You look at him, hands slapping your thighs, "I don't trust you."

"Why? Because I showed up to the casino a lot drunker than I felt and what.. disrespected you by calling out your father for doing something that you know damn well he did." Colby walks up to you, "I know you're in the business a lot more than you lead on. I know you run it when he's away on some other fucking god forsaken business."

"You don't know nothing." You shake hour head, "You're an arrogant, fucking asshole who thinks everyone owes you something but new flash, Colby. I don't owe you shit."

"You're right. You don't. You don't owe me anything, y/n. You're a spoiled, fucking brat who thinks everyone needs to give you something well guess what."

"What."

"I'm done trying to get on your good side."

"Why were you even trying when you knew it wouldn't work."

He shakes his head, "Doesn't matter anymore. You want me out of your life. Fine. Easy. Done."

You suddenly feel like something was being ripped away from you, but you don't know why.

"Colby- I-I-"

Next thing you know, Colby has you pushed up against the wall and his lips are on yours and you're frozen in shock, but to your surprise, you actually kiss back.

He pulls away and looks over, "Sorry. Just two newly engaged people who can't keep their hands off of each other." Colby chuckles and you look over, smiling at the older couple who are standing there.

They laugh and the lady nods with a smile, "Oh to be young again."

The gentleman nods, "yeah, but with the right person, you'll always feel like you're a teenager." He leans in, "Why do you think we're sneaking away." The older man nudges Colby with a wink before he follows the lady into the bathroom.

Your mouth drops as you look over to Colby and for a moment, it felt like you weren't just going at each other's throats.

"Oh my god." Colby laughs and sighs, eyes scanning over your face. You look from his eyes to his lips as your breathing picks up.

That kiss did something for you.

"I'll drop you off at home." Colby steps back, fixing his shirt before looking back at you, "if you're ready."

You nod, "Yeah. Yeah." You walk out with him, taking his hand into yours as you walk to the bar, pretending like you're a happy engaged couple.

"Hey Sam, we'll see ya." Colby knocks on the bar and Sam pouts, "Leaving so soon?" Colby sighs, "Yeah, lady isn't feeling too good."

"Oh yeah, put the blame on me." You cover up your angry tone with a laugh and a smile and Sam smiles, "Have a good night you two."

"We're definitely going to try." Colby smiles and leads you out to the valet, "Brock. Audi." The valet attendant nods before going to fetch the car.

You stand there, wrapping your arms around yourself as you take in everything that just happened.

Stealing from what seemed like very powerful people.

Colby's burst of anger.

Finding a picture of your parents in said couples house.

Colby kissing you, and to top it off, you actually didn't mind the kiss. You didn't feel repulsed by it like you normally did.

The car rolls up and the attendant gets out, "Have a good night guys."

"Thanks." You both mumble and walk down to the car. Colby still opens your door for you, still avoiding eye contact just like you.

He walks around to get in and buckles up before driving off. It's quiet for a few moments until you notice Colby take the wrong turn, "Where- Colby this is the wrong way."

He says nothing.

"Colby." You stare at him, "Where are we going?"

"Some place safe for right now."

"Some place sa-" you sigh, leaning back into your seat, "Where? Where is it that we'll be safe?"

"Would you fucking relax." He sighs, "You act like I'm such a bad fucking guy when you really don't know me at all." He glances over at you and back to the road.

You stay silent. Keeping your eyes on the headlight filled road in front of you. Thinking, maybe you were trying to hide something that you can't admit to.

Maybe there was actually no hatred towards him and you were just protecting yourself?

He pulls into an empty and secluded parking lot and puts the car in park. He stares at the wheel for a few moments before he breaks the silence with a sigh, "I didn't kill your mother, y/n."

Your eyes burn as the tears form a gloss over your eyes, continuing to stare out the windshield.

"But I was there when she died."

Your head snaps to him, your words choked, "W-wh-at?"

"You might not believe me, and that's okay. But I just need you to know that you're not as safe as you think you are." Colby runs a hand over his face and he sighs, "The night.." he sighs again, "Fuck. Okay."

"Just tell me." You turn toward him, staring at him as he finds the will to form the words, "Your father.."

"No." You shake your head, blinking once so the tears uncloud your vision, "Don't."

"Y/n. I'm telling the truth." Colby turns towards you, "I was working security for the Montgomery's. At one of these parties." He swallows, "and I knew exactly who they were the moment I saw your father."

"Are you.. are you in the business, too?" You sniffle and he shrugs, "Yes and no. I don't push anything, or deal with it first hand. I mainly do high class security when deals are being made."

"And my parents were.." you sniffle, "What? There to make a deal?"

He nods, "Well, more your father than anything. I was escorting them back to one of the rooms we passed and I stayed outside, listening in to make sure nothing went south.. but when I heard the gun shot.." he shakes his head, voice quiet, "It was too late."

"Your father was holding the gun that was fired and your mother was-"

"Don't. I don't need the details about her." You shake your head, "Not right now."

He nods, "I was threatened with my life."

"By my father."

"Yes. And Oliver. He was there, too." He pauses, "Eloise has no knowledge of it, from what I understand. She's always liked me. Knew me since I was a kid somehow."

You stare at the steering wheel, speechless.

"They covered it up. Said the place got robbed and your mother was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh my god." You whisper, covering your face with your hands, "Oh my god."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner I ju-"

"Why didn't you?" You look at him, "Seriously? Why couldn't you have just fucking told me you needed to talk to me about something important."

He scoffs, "As a matter of fucking fact, y/n. I tried. Two, three nights ago whatever. At the casino. I told you that you were going to regret not speaking with me."

"So this is my fault?" You scoff and laugh, "Of fucking course."

"That's not- no. We're not playing that asinine blame game, okay?" He sighs, "I'm here because I don't want to see you end up the same way as your mother."

"Maybe it's for the best." You shake your head and Colby lays a hand on your leg, "Don't you ever say that."

You laugh, "Why not? At this point I just ruin or lose everything I have. My own father has been lying to me. I've made a fool out of myself defending him time and time again when I really should have been, what? Running from him." You yell slightly louder, "Fuck, why am I so fucking stupid?"

"You're not stupid, you just-"

You cut Colby off, "I don't need you to fucking tell me what I did, do, need, or want. Okay?" You slam your back against the seat, "Just take me home so I can be alone."

He doesn't fight. He doesn't say another word. He just puts the car and drive and takes you home.

"Can you just please not say anything. I was told if I ever told you.."

"He'd kill you, too. Right?" You sigh, "What the fuck."

"I know it's a lot, but I'm not asking for me." Colby puts the car and park and you look at him, "What is the other reason? If you're not asking for you then who?"

He's quiet for a few moments before looking at you. You stare at him and he leans over, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in to close the space with your lips on his.

You lay a hand on his cheek, kissing back.

In that moment, you fully understand why he did everything that made you hate him.

He leans back, brushing your cheek with his thumb as he looks at you, "You have no idea how much I actually care about you."

You're at a loss for words, again. Seems like the ongoing theme of the night.

"Now come on. We have to take this to your dad." He goes to get out but you stop him, "Was this box my mom's?"

Colby shrugs, "I think, but I'm not fully sure."

You nod, "Okay." You take a deep breath, bringing down the visor to look in the mirror.

"You still look beautiful."

You look over at Colby and he smiles slightly. You press your lips together, giving him a small smile, "Alright, let's go deliver this to my liar of a father."

Colby fears that you'll step out of line, and quite frankly, he wasn't that far off.

You wanted to freak out.

Throw the box at his head.

Scream at him and ask him why he killed your mother.

You wanted to end him like he ended your mother, but you couldn't do that.

Not yet at least.

"Evening, how was the party." Rio asks as he opens the front door. You nod, "It was definitely a party." You walk in, Colby following behind you as he nods to Rio.

"Y/n. My darling daughter. I see you're back early." Your father yells from his office. Colby lays a hand on your lower back, assuring you as you walk towards the room.

You put on a facade, pretending like your life didn't just change in a measly two, three hours.

"Yeah, wasn't really that lively actually." You walk in, sitting down in the chair and Colby sits in the one next to you.

Your father looks between the two of you, eagerly awaiting the delivery, "Well? Did you happen to get in?"

You unzip your purse, setting Colby on high alert for a possible shoot out, but you take out just the box, "This is the one correct?"

Your father's eyes gleam with excitement, "It sure is." He stands up, leaning forward to snatch it from your hands without a simple thank you.

"What's so special about it, dad?" You zip your purse back, even though you're very tempted to aim the gun at your dad this time.

"It's a family heirloom that I've been dying to get my hands on." He wipes it off with a soft rag, "Your great, great grandmother owned this and I remember my father telling me that I needed to get it back."

Lies, lies and more lies.

"Oh really?" You raise your eyebrows and Colby's eyes move nervously between you and your father.

"Yes, really. Would I lie to you, my darling daughter?"

Yes.

"No." You smile, "you're right." You stand up, "If it's okay, I would like to speak with Colby upstairs. Thank him for inviting me to go with him."

Your father waves you off, eyes glued to the box, "Yeah, sure. That's fine." He looks up and points to Colby, "No funny business in my house."

Colby nods, "You don't have to worry about that sir, she still hates my guts." They laugh and your father goes back to wiping the box as you lead Colby up the steps.

"Where are you going?" Rio asks, making you stop on the stairs. You turn around, "I want to talk to Colby for a second. Dad said it was fine."

Rio nods and goes into the office and you hear the door close.

"Everyone has to know everything." You huff and lift your dress up. Colby holds the train of it up as you make your way up the rest of the steps.

You walk into your room and pull Colby in, closing the door behind him. You turn and start whispering, "I want to leave."

He lowers his voice, "Leave? What do you mean leave?" You walk over, pulling a suit case out from under your bed, "Leave. Colby."

"Y/n. I don't think-"

"You said I wasn't safe. I sure as hell don't feel safe here anymore." Your eyes move from him to the floor as you stop yourself from admitting something you fought so hard to keep hidden.

"Where are you going to go, y/n?" He walks over to you, stopping you from throwing stuff into the case, "Talk to me."

"No because you're just going to try and talk me out of it and I've made up my mind." You stay focused on throwing stuff into your case, "I can't.." your voice breaks and you sigh, "I can't stay here.. the only place.." you shake your head, stepping back as you grab a few more essential items.

"The only place what, y/n?" He watches as you keep packing, ignoring him. He walks up to you, making you look at him, "I know, okay. I know that the only place that you ever felt safe in isn't safe anymore and you need to go, but you're no-"

You sigh, "No, Colby. The only place I've ever felt safe is when I'm around you, and I just have this feeling that after tonight-." You take a sharp breath, staring up at him as your body shakes under his touch.

You hated admitting that because you hated him - or did hate him, whatever, but regardless. You're not a vulnerable person. You never showed anyone if you were hurting, mad, nothing.

But with Colby, anytime he was around,  you've always had a weird sense of saftey.

He's taken aback by your words, "What?"

You push him away, "No I just-" you sigh, "we need to leave. We need to get out of here. Somewhere far. Somewhere far away from the monster that's downstairs holding the box that belonged to my mother."

You sit down on the bed, head in your hands as your mind continues to race about everything including where you're going to go.

"Okay." Colby nods and you look up at him. He swallows and sighs, "Where do you want to go?"

Your eyes fill with tears as the escape is right in front of you, "Anywhere."

He nods, "Alright. We'll go anywhere."

·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"How do we get to the car without my dad or anyone seeing?" You lay a hand on your forehead as you pace back and fourth, "I just.. if he knows I'm leaving.." you sigh trying to calm yourself down, "I don't want to imagine what he'd do."

Colby points to the window, "Your room isn't far from the ground."

You laugh, "You want me to climb out the window?" He looks at you, "It's either this or risking the chance of-"

"Okay." You cut him off, slightly loud. You lower your voice, "Okay."

"Listen, y/n. I'm just trying to help."

You nod, your voice really low, "I know. I know." You glance at your suitcase, "I have enough money in my accounts.. we'll just have to stop at different atm's or something."

"Isn't there a way you can wire it or something so you don't have to waste anymore time?" Colby asks and you shrug, "I-I don't know." You zip your suitcase, "I just need to get out of here first."

He nods, "Okay. I'll leave, ya know." He walks towards the door, "I'll park down the street or something but I'll come back for you."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah. Good idea."

He stares at you, "We'll get you out of here. Okay."

"Okay." You watch as he leaves and everything suddenly hits you. You feel like you can't breathe. You feel like your body is going to give out from underneath you.

You never imagined your life flipping upside down this bad.

You never pictured having these feelings for Colby.

You're so thrown off, you feel like your head is spinning and now you really don't know what the right thing to do is.

You question everything.

Your dad.

Rio.

Oliver.

Why you were the one who needed to go with Colby. Why your father gave you no choice.

You felt sick. Weak. Almost distorted in a way.

Your phone ringing in your purse causes you to get up immediately. You unzip it, digging through to grab it, "Hello?"

"He wasn't in his office when I went by. I don't know where he is." Colby says on the other end of the line, "I'm circling back now, just watch for me out the window."

"Okay." You hang up and there's a knock on your door, "Y/n."

Your father's voice makes you tense up, fuck.

"Coming." You quickly and as quietly as possible, move your suitcase to back under your bed. You walk over to the door and open it.

"Colby leave already?" Your father asks walking into your room. You nod, "He did."

"That's a shame, I was going to have a congratulatory drink with him, you know as a thank you for getting me this back."

"You'll have to give him a call or something. He said he was heading home, I think." You cross your arms, chewing on your lip.

"I will. I just wanted to come up and thank you, too. I was astonished that you actually managed to get it and I just.." your father sighs and holds his arms out, "Your mother would have been so proud."

Your stomach twists at his words, "Yeah. She would have been."

Your father wraps his arms around you, kissing your head, "Alright. Get some sleep. You've earned it from my view of things."

You nod, "I plan on it."

He walks over to the door, "Oh and one more thing.."

"Yeah, dad?" You look up at him and he nods, "You have a right to feel the way you do about Colby. You don't know it now, but you will."

"What do you mean?" You tilt your head, "What did he do?" Your father sighs, "He's been caught up into some pretty bad ordeals. But that's something we'll have to talk about later on." He taps the door, "Goodnight."

You close the door behind him as he leaves, instantly starting to hyperventilate, "What the fuck?" You whisper, "What the fucking fuck."

You ball your fists up, gently tapping them on your forehead, "Fuck. Okay." You walk over to the window, looking out to see Colby round the corner of the house.

He motions for you to throw your suitcase down and you nod, hesitating to pull it from under your bed as what your father said swings around in your head.

He's a liar, you remind yourself, you can't trust him.

You grab your case, moving it over and sitting it on the window as you push the pane open. You ease it down as far as you can lean out and drop it.

Colby catches it, setting it down before he looks up at you, motioning for you to come down next.

You swing your leg over, feeling for a ledge before you swing your other leg over. Your dress gets caught on the window and you loose your footing, falling backwards.

You let out a scream as you fall, landing not on the grass, but in Colby's arms, "Hey, you okay?"

You look around, breathing heavy, "I think."

He moves you to your feet, "Come on." He grabs your hand leading you around the house and down through the tree that surround your house.

"Hang.. Colby.." you pull his hand, making him stop, "Hang on." You bend down, undoing your heels that are stuck in the earth, "Come on. Come on."

"Here." Colby bends down, bringing out a knife from his pocket and cutting the straps around your ankles, "Come on." He takes your hand again, pulling you along as he leads you to his car.

He opens the door, looking around as you climb in. He shuts it, quickly making his way around and gets in and starts driving.

You rest your head against the headrest, letting out a long sigh and he glances over at you, "Where to?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After grabbing your cash from the last atm, you get back into the car and Colby looks at you, "There's a hotel about an hour away from here."

Those are the first words spoken in two hours.

You nod, "okay." You look out the window, your adrenaline winding down as you watch the darkness pass.

"Colby." You keep your eyes out the window, "My dad warned me about you tonight."

"Warned you?" He laughs slightly, "When?"

"Right before you came to the window." You turn your head, looking over at him, "He said I have a right to feel the way I do about you, said you've been in some pretty bad stuff."

Colby shakes his head, gripping the wheel tighter, "He was trying to get you to turn against me."

"But why?"

He shakes his head, “Not the time.”

“Stop the car.”

“What?” He looks over at you then back to the road with a laugh, “I’m not stopping this fucking car.”

“Colby.” You warn, “I’m serious.”

“About what?”

“If you won’t tell me then stop the car.” You reach for the handle, “I’ll tuck and roll, I don’t care.”

“No, y/n. It’s in the middle of -“

“Stop the fucking car!”

He jams on the breaks, causing you to fly as forward as the seatbelt lets you before locking. You unbuckle, winging it off of you with a loud crack to the tinted window.

“Hey, come on no-“

You get out, slamming the door shut. You turn, starting to walk away when you hear Colby get out, “Y/n. Come on. It’s freezing.”

You continue to ignore him, your bare feet carrying you down the road.

“I didn’t want you to end up like your mother.”

You stop, continuing to stare out into the faintly tail lit darkness.

“The reason your father warned you of me..” he tells out to you, “..Is because I told him I would do anything to protect you.”

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You yell looking down at the ground, “Why couldn’t you have just-“ you groan turning around.

His eyes follow you as you walk up to him. You push him back against his car, yelling as you hit his chest, “why.. didn’t.. you.. just.. fucking.. tell.. me!?”

You step back, putting your hands on your head, “What the fuck is happening?”

“I know, I fucked up. I should have just told you everything the moment it happened.”

“You’re fucking right you should have.” Anger dripping off your words, “That’s my mother we’re talking about Colby.. I-I-“

“I know.” He cuts you off slightly loud, “I know, and I’m sorry. If there was anything I could do to change it for you I would.” He steps towards you, “In a heartbeat, y/n.”

Your anger softens, turning into a bittersweet feeling.

You wanted to be mad, but with how much Colby actually cares about you, it’s hard to be angry with him.

He walks up to you, “I should have told you. But at the same time, I didn’t know what I would be getting you into and I just..” he shrugs, “I just couldn’t risk it.”

“Why?” You look up at him, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“What do you mean why?” He laughs slightly, “I think that everything I did just proves it.”

“I want to hear you say it.” You keep your eyes locked on his and his eyes move between yours, “You know why.”

“I want to hear you say. It.”

“Get in the car.” He nods towards the parked car and you laugh slightly, “No. not until you say it.”

“Why do you have to do this?”

“Do what, Colby?”

“Be so fucking stubborn.”

You laugh, “Yeah, because I’m the one who isn’t just coming out to say-“ you stop, looking back at him and he smirks, “Saying… what? Saying what y/n. Go one. Tell the class.”

You roll your eyes as his sarcasm, “You know what. I think you know.”

“Do I?”

You shake your head, “I’m not doing this.” You go to walk away but Colby grabs your arm, “I care about you.” He pulls you into him, looking down at you as you stare up at him, “I think you know that.”

He brushes hair from your face, “I think you know that you want me under your skin.” His hand drags up your goosebump ridden arm, “I think you know that you’re capable of doing more than just tolerating me.”

You swallow, looking down but he lifts your chin, “I think you know that I love you, and you’re just too scared to admit you feel the same for me.”

You say nothing, eyes focused on his lips as they move when he speaks, “You shouldn’t be scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You say quickly, taking a deep breath through your nose and sighing, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, the fact that you haven’t pulled away from me or gave me attitude says it all, darling.” He slides his hand up to your neck squeezing slowly as he gently pushes you against the car.

You’ve never been turned on quicker in your life.

“What do you want, Colby?” You asked, forcing a slightly annoyed tone.

He chuckles, leaning in to gently plant little kisses on your neck, “You.”

Your eyes roll closed and you sigh, “Take me.”

His hand moves to turn your head, crashing his lips into yours and your arms wrap around his neck, moaning quietly as his hands work to pull your dress up.

“About fucking time.” He mumbles against your lips as he moves your hands to hold your dress up.

“Don’t ruin it.” You breathe out in a slight laugh. You hold your dress up, watching Colby drop to his knees for you in the dim lighting.

“You have no idea..” he kisses up your leg, “How many times I’ve thought about this.” He kisses up your thigh, “Thought about you.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting for Colby to pull your panties completely off. You step out of them and he immediately throws one of your legs over his shoulder and leans in to make his fantasy come true.

You rest your head back on the car, moaning as you feel his tongue slip in and out of you. Nose bumping against your clit at the perfect times.

Your hand flies down, immediately gripping his hair and pulling, “Fuck Colby.” You gasp as you feel a finger slip in as his mouth moves to suck and nip at your clit that’s swelled with arousal, “s-shit.”

He looks up at you, finger moving in and out, “Don’t tell me you didn’t think about me being between these pretty little legs of yours.”

You arch your back as his fingers curls, pressing against that perfect spot, “I have.”

“That’s what I thought.” He chuckles before dipping his head back in, sucking on your clit as he adds another finger.

You grip the open door, pushing his head in with your other hand, “f-fuck. Yes, yes right there.” He thrusts his fingers a little faster, yet still making sure to stroke that little spot that’s about to send you over the edge.

You let out a loud moan, pulling his hair as you clench around his fingers. Orgasm taking over in the fullest force it can.

Panting as you feel him pull his fingers out, you look down at him. He smirks and brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as he maintains the strongest eye contact, “So fucking good.”

He stands up, crashing his lips onto yours so you can taste yourself. He swallows your moans like they’re nothing. Biting down on your bottom lip and tilting his head back.

You let out a whimper as he lets it go and he opens the back door, “Get in.”

You don’t hesitate. You move and get in, sitting down at you face him with one leg on the seat, other one down with your foot on the floor.

Dress still around your waist.

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He undoes his belt, zipping coming down with such ease, “You know that?”

Your teeth hang onto your lip as you nod, “Mhm.”

Colby chuckles as he crawls into the car, body hovering over yours, “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” You ask innocently and he chuckles, shaking his head, “You are such a brat.” He leans down to kiss you, pushing your leg open more and hooking it over his arm. He pushes his cock into you, both moaning and he sighs, “I fucking love it.”

His lips are on yours as he gives you absolutely no time to adjust to him. He pulls out, slamming back in and you moan louder than you have so far. Your fingers slip under the loose collar of his shirt and your nails dig into his skin, “C-Colby.”

You already feel like you could cum again, your body twitching as his cock slams into you, getting immense pleasure with each thrust.

His hand slides up, lying on your neck to squeeze, you let out a squeaked moan as your body arches. Your legs locking around him as he fucks you through orgasm number two.

“That’s it.” Colby moans lowly into your ear, “That’s my fucking girl.”

You let out a strangled whine, clinging to him as your hand tugs the hair that’s intertwined around your fingers, “S-shit.” You gasp, moving your head to kiss him.

He lets go of your throat and your lips move roughly against one another, and he pulls away, “Where do you want me?”

Heat of the moment you may say, but you waste no time, “In me.”

“Fuck.” Colby groans, and you feel his cock twitch. That was enough for him. He coats your walls, holding onto you in anyway he can as he moans against your neck, leaving a dark mark before pulling away with a sigh, “You were made for me.”

You smile, chest still rising and falling at a great speed, “sure I was.” You lay a hand on his cheek and your eyes move over his face.

“You mean, I sure was. Right?” He asks with a smirk and you just smile up at him.

You wanted to apologize for being such a bitch to him, but headlights in the distance cut it short and you’re both scrambling to get back upfront.

Colby slams the back door and gets in, quickly driving off as soon as his door is shut.

The car passes and you let out a laugh that gets Colby to laugh. After a few moments of laughing about what just happened, you let out a sigh, “I still hate you.”

“I’m sure you do.” His hand sneaks under yours, holding onto your leg as your rests on top, “You can prove just how much you hate me when we get to the hotel.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! Sorry it took so long, but I hope you liked it!

Also, in the cover for this. I know I have a picture of a couple on a bike - I totally forgot about that and made him have a car instead. I realized after I wrote it, so just ignore that. I might go back in later and fix it. I just wanted to get it out for you all. Sorry!!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[1800titz]

Hi friends! I’ve been sitting on this for about 3 months now and had the spontaneous urge to share. More lengthy authors note is over on wattpad. ٩(◕‿◕)۶

This one is going to be a long, chaptered fic, and here's the first chapter!

Also, big thank you to Miss @freedomfireflies for her help brainstorming <3

WC: 6.5K

Harry thinks that prissy, pretty little princesses stowed away in his cabin, tied up with ropes like haphazard, shibari interpretations, outweigh all chests, upon chests, of dainty sapphire emblems and chunky pendants of gold. This particular …treasure, in fact, is worth far beyond her weight in pure gold. A sight for sore eyes, too. Still sopping from the sea, her low-cut neckline clinging to her flesh and her skirt sheerly draped over her parted thighs. 

It’s a nice view. 

Seren doesn’t know how she’s ended up strapped to some horribly uncomfortable stool in a rocking room that’s wood, ceiling to floor. 

Well. 

She knows that the boat she was on was a victim of piracy. She knows that the ship, aimed for Holland, met an unsightly demise at some point, in open ocean, between Rotterdam and Harwich. She knows she’d been in a cabin of the Mary when the first strike landed, when flames erupted over the forecastle, when the deck turned to screams and a beautiful morning of calm skies, wisps of white she’d admired minutes prior, meant virtually nothing to the tightening in her chest. 

The pirate leans back against the wall. His eyes, like emeralds, wind over her shape. She grits at the balled fabric between her teeth, chest heaving. He’s a man — a man’s man, unlike in appearance to the men she’s used to spending her pastime around, back home. The kinds who wither at the sight of the wrong fork at the dinner table or something, and turn their noses up at the thought of carrying something heavier than forty pounds. The kind whose hair coils pristinely, seemingly solidified rock in place. The kind who carry umbrellas to ward off the glaring rays of the sunlight as they stroll through the courtyard of shrubbery in their fancy shoes and fancy garments. This man is not that type of man. 

He’s different, she can see it just in the way he carries himself. He’s not scared to get his hands dirty, he’s not scared to do the work. The crest of his left cheekbone wears a scar, a nick, so small she wouldn’t see it had he not stepped into the buttery beam of the daylight cast through the little window on the precipice of wall and ceiling, particles of dust dancing in the makeshift spotlight. His fingers, adorned with chunky rings, his hands — they’re calloused, like a laborer. She can see it from her view. His garb is simple, clad over his skin for purpose and comfort, solely. 

But simple isn’t the term she’d deem best to describe him, not with his myriad of accessories, from the trinkets glinting from his holster, to his plethora of rings, to the mysterious, rusted key that dangled in the glen between his pecs. That one’s highlighted against bare skin in the vale of his haphazardly unbuttoned shirt. From there, she can see ink over his torso, carved in shapes over swarthy flesh. All sorts of pictures; beaks, and wings, lines of careful shading and others of jet emphasis; thicker, deeper sketches in contrast.  

He’s clean shaven, which is unlike any pirate Seren’s ever heard tall tales of. His mouth is pink, cushiony in shape, and when the corners of his mouth turn up, dimples wink awake beside the curl. An even slope of a nose, and jade irises that brew with mischief. Seren can almost see the way that the flinty shade would brew with a storm, like the sea. If he wasn't a pirate of the boat that’d throttled her own, sent it spiraling into the ocean as nothing but husks of chipped wood and dying ember, maybe she’d find an alluring quality to him. But it’s not food for thought. 

“Should we try again?” he prompts, in his tantalizing cadence. 

When she’d heard him speak, for the first time, she was floored. An Englishman. An Englishman, youthful and spry,  sailing a pirate ship, and pillaging when so much more could be in the books for such a man. So much potential, wasted. What a crying shame. She’d heard of pirates, of brutish criminals from her homeland, but they were always, for some reason or another, older, unprepossessing, scarred and crude with unkempt beards and a lack of morals, too far gone to redeem. They had eyes much too hungry for riches, and lewd, groping hands that were much too focused on flesh. Seren eyes his hands. They’re colossal. He hasn’t touched her in that way, not like that, but the lazy smirk over his plush mouth, the way his irises rake over her neckline, down the meshified front of her dress — that practically urges her not to count her blessings too soon. 

When he squats just ahead of her, watching her in pause, his eyes glinting with this sort of condescension, because she’s indisposed and at his whim, Seren wishes her legs weren’t bound to the legs of the chair. She’d kick him, if she could. She’d scream, and kick, and claw, and—

“Are you going to start shouting again? Is that what you’re thinking about?” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth buckling. When she’s unable to respond, for obvious reasons, the man cups his palm over the shell of his right ear and twists his head a tad, leaning towards her a smidge. 

“M’gonna need an answer, if you’d like to me to un-gag you. M’specifically gonna need a no,” the pirate prompts, a jesting air to his tone that Seren would love to crush. Her chest is still heaving from the last screaming fit, from the first time he’d tugged at the rope pressing to her cheeks and pulled the smushed fabric off of her tongue. His mouth twitches wryly. 

He plants his forearms onto his thighs, casting his gaze to her as he weighs out the options, lips crooked, but eyes narrowed, just a bit, in a way that wordlessly suggests she comply. 

“Let’s give this another go.” 

When the man digs his forefinger under the abrasive rope and yanks it down, over her chin, and then plucks at the outside of the makeshift gag, Seren doesn’t nip at his fingertips. She’d tried that, the first time, but he’d retracted before her teeth could come into contact, his mouth jolting at the fire within her he’d underestimated. She expected a smack, she’d expected her neck to twist as her cheek bruised in response to the attempt, but he’d just stuck his tongue against his cheek, all mirthy, until she’d started to scream. Then he’d gagged her again. 

So. 

That was a failure. 

The second the back of her throat meets the air, rather than the garbling cloth, the young woman starts screaming. Again. He’d kind of expected it. It’s a very lovely attempt, she’s quite loud, and all, but unfortunately, her efforts are sort of moot. That kind of thing tends to happen when you’re miles, and miles, and miles out in the open sea aboard a ship of men who work for the opposing team. Harry would clap if he wasn’t putting on a show of tucking a finger into his ear at her shrill cries. Eventually, he just watches her, letting her scream for a bit, and she holds seething eye contact as her help rises in pitch. 

“Okay— alright,” Harry shakes his head, balling the cloth, daubed with her saliva, and shoving it past her lips haphazardly. She attempts to spit, but can only wriggle as he presses the rope back over her mouth like the task is effortless. 

For a moment, neither of them say anything. The princess can’t. Harry tuts. 

His tone carries notes of amusement when he tells her, “You’re quite pitchy. D’you know that?” 

Seren stares him down. 

“Have you got rocks in your head?” his lips nearly jolt up at the blunt nature of his own inquiry. They don’t. “I tell you not to scream,” he waves with an arm, “you scream anyways. I say, let’s try one more time, because— you know. Maybe you didn’t get the memo, the first time.”

The princess watches him talk, bemused. He gestures with his arm like a tired parent, stressed and lecturing a menacing, little child. 

“And you yell again. So I’m wondering, have you got rocks in your head?” 

Seren says nothing. She does wriggle in the restraints, like his question has insulted her enough to launch at him. But she stills when he squats ahead of her, once more, her heart hammering behind her ribcage. 

“Who’s going to rescue you?” the pirate asks. It’s obviously rhetorical, and he knows she can comprehend that much. When the roll of her chest slows and she settles back, he can see it in her eyes that his point has left her crestfallen. His mouth quirks, and Harry presses again. “Who?” 

When he knows that the message has sunk in, when she stares at the wall behind him, blankly, the only evidence of her consciousness being her glazed over gaze and the flare of her nostrils on every inhale, Harry sighs down at his palms and shakes his head. 

“I’d just like a chat.” 

Seren twists her head away. As much as the binding over her neck and face allows for, anyways. Harry tuts. 

“So glum. You’re alive, aren’t you?” he cocks his head, voice low, “You’re not at the bottom of the sea. Not like your little boat.” 

Those words hit a nerve, he can see it in the way she side-eyes him, the flame reignited, kindling in her scorching gaze. The pirate nods down at his hands, twisting a ring with a ruby red gem, like a shitty mockery of a moment of silence. 

“It can’t possibly be comfortable, sitting with your mouth full, like that. And you must be thirsty, what with all that saltwater you were gargling,” he raises a shoulder, a coy reasoning to his speech. 

Seren doesn’t want his stupid water. He’d probably poison her, have his way, and roll her off the ship, back into the raging waters he’d pulled her from. Harry blinks. She doesn’t offer an inkling to show that she’s willing to comply, but he stands and reaches for the rope, digging the pads of his fingers under the binding, over her cheek. His forefinger brushes the corner of her parted lips. 

“Third time’s the charm.” 

Though, he doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, not even to his own ears. He cradles the square of cloth between his fingertips and listens to her screams for a moment. 

And then he startles her when he starts to harmonize with her screeching pleas. The first one is enough for her vocal chords to stutter, for her to jolt back in her seat, alarmed. 

“HELP!” Harry calls, stretching the vowel outweighing her own scream in volume as the young woman’s own dies off, and the princess balks, startling in the ropes at the sound. He takes a pause for a deep breath, and screams again, “HELP!” banging on the wooden beams over the ceiling, bumping with his palm loudly, in an outrageous display that’s clearly meant to taunt. The sound of him striking it, alone, causes her to jump in her restraints.

He’s unhinged. Seren is convinced. Her spine straightens out like an arrow, and her shoulders square as she ogles the bizarre display, watching him strike over the ceiling, the walls, stamp the soles of his boots against the floorboards. After a second, he settles down. His hand is crooked against one of the beams overhead, and his gaze roves over her slowly. Purposefully. The corners of his mouth curl up sardonically. 

“It’s not a very nice sound, is it?” 

He’s deranged. His screws are loose, Seren decides, her eyes still wide as the racing pace of her heart settles in her chest — but any man who sinks ships for fun, in the open sea, who sails and pillages, and murders innocents with a hunger for riches, has screws loose. These aren’t insightful revelations. Maybe she’d just expected him to be less …bizarre, in their interrogation. He was going to get his answers out of her — they were his, they were going to be, and there’s no kidding about it — but the young woman is unsure of what answers he’s looking for or why. Why, why, why. Why did these pirates sink her boat? It was nothing but a small ferry in comparison to the opposing monster of a galleon. It wasn’t even a merchant ship, there were no riches to be stolen. Ironically, the pirate reaches a hand out, and Seren fidgets until his fingers clasp over her ruby pendant. He lifts it from her skin with prodding fingertips and a gaze of scrutiny. 

She won’t give him answers, the princess decides. Whatever dialogue he may want from her, she won’t comply. She doesn’t know what he has in store for her lack of subservience, but she doesn’t care. She will not bend her will for this mangy brute. 

“This is a pretty piece.” 

Loose tendrils, clumped wetly, sway as she jerks her neck to tug the pendant from his grasp. She fails. His digits twitch and flex over the pendant, and the chain digs into the skin at the back of her neck with the faulty motion. The corners of his mouth quirk up as the princess makes an mmph. 

That’s a pretty sound. 

“M’not going to steal it. What kind of a man do you take me for? We’re good men here, on this ship,” the pirate declares, a sort of vehement passion to his statement, but the crook of his mouth says it’s an unlikely story. 

So do the remnants of her boat, somewhere at the bottom of the sea, Seren thinks dryly. Maintaining eye contact, he lets the pendant settle back between her collarbones. It is a pretty piece, Harry wasn’t lying. Real gold, too — no princess would wear something less. But he’s got no need to pilfer it from her. Every molecule of her being, every cell, will pay out tenfold the cost of the necklace. It’s with that thought that he fixes the gag back into place and leaves her, trussed to that chair in the cabin. 

“Ta,” the pirate bids in his slow roam towards the door, a glance aimed over his as he tucks his fingertips into the belt holstering his array of daggers, one handle bejeweled. The look he fixes her is sure, the kind that’s relaxed, but showcases that his word is final and will be the outcome. “Chat soon.” 

Fun fact; being tied to a shoddy, little wooden chair for hours on end fucking blows. Especially when your hands are bound, in such a way where the rope weaves through the pegs of the back of the chair, keeping your joints wrung together tightly. It’s really aggravating to have a coarse rope, its weaving splintered with pinprick-y tufts, stuck up over your cheeks to hold some sordid rag in place between your teeth. 

It’s safe to say that the experience is not one of Seren’s most favorite past-times. She’s not sure how much time has passed before that heavy wooden door creaks open on its hinges, again. Only a few hours, it must be. The crack of a window behind her hasn’t broken with nightfall, though the light cast through its opening has dimmed, if only a little. 

It’s the same pirate as before. All glimmery jade and the bare vale of tanned skin from the unbuttoned sector of his shirt, where she makes out a faint dusting of chest hair, between his pecs. 

The princess is still a gorgeous view, in Harry’s opinion. Her thighs are still splayed, but her cream dress has dried some, now, and so has her hair. It’s wild, mussed and frizzy. A half-soaked clump rests over one of her eyes. 

“Hello to you, too, darling,” he says in response to the glare she fastens him with through the one that’s visible, like instant daggers. The corners of his mouth crook. He ambles toward her with a steel cup of …something. Something mysterious, something unknown, something she eyes warily up until the point where he’s towering over her. The young woman tears her gaze away, casting it up to his handsome face, instead. 

He pries and tucks his digits up under the rope that’s settled over her cheeks and drawn ruddy hues, but he pauses before he pulls it down. 

“Y’gonna get loud?” 

Seren doesn’t say anything. In fact, she sort of can’t, which is quite nice, Harry thinks, but she doesn’t even make a garbled sound to appease or amuse him. The captain is thankful for what little fragments of peace he’s been granted before he’s forced to endure her ludicrously grating screeching. He weighs his options for a moment, but ultimately, tugs. 

Of course, the second he’s pulled the cloth out, the young woman is screaming, of-fucking-course she’s screaming. And at this point, it’s so obviously a ploy to irritate him, and Harry would laugh if the whole display wasn’t so vexing. There’s a tick in his jaw when he sets the lip of the tin cup to her parted, strawberry mouth, roughly — and he wouldn’t be so rough if she wasn’t so fucking loud — and tips. Instantly, that shout is garbled by liquid. It morphs into a cough and a much more tolerable string of sputters, as water leaks over and drenches down her chin, her chest, the front of her dress. 

“There we go,” the pirate says, the smooth baritone of his cadence louder over the fit of her coughing, “Attagirl. That’s much better.” 

He doesn’t tip more of the beverage into her mouth — a ransom on a princess who’s drowned in her own lungs is worth virtually nothing — and lets her cough and sputter a little longer. She strings together a sequence of breaths he deems good enough, before he smushes the rim of the metal cup back against her bottom lip. 

“Drink,” Harry advises and nudges the tin back in a way, again, so that the liquid sloshes and spills out into her open mouth. 

This time, she doesn’t cough. She expects it, the water. The princess affixes her top lip lower to siphon the beverage and takes a few swallows. Harry watches her throat bob, and he watches a little rivulet escape, too, dribbling down the corner of her mouth in a little streak. It drips down her chin, down her neck. His pupils follow the trail. He gives her a little break part-way, once the tin is close to empty and her neck is craned back with the swallows. He draws it away. Good. That was good, nice and easy. As easy as it could be, given the circumstances. 

Except she fixes him with this horrible glare, again, as he pulls the cup away. This glare that speaks volumes, this glower that should warn him of his error before he lets it happen. Harry doesn’t catch the drift. Only a glimpse of her cheeks puffing before she puckers her lips and spits the remnants at him, coating the bottom-most half of his linen with a mist of the water. His belt too, and a bit of his trousers. 

And then her mouth is empty and she’s just scowling at him, head tipped down in a way so that the chunk of her frizzy tendrils settles back over an eye. Harry doesn’t waste a second before angling the cup, miffed, and flinging what little water is left in the cup right back in her face. 

And the way her eyes screw shut, the way her lips fall open in silent appall the second he returns the energy, (except, he’s far more polite, in his humble opinion. He doesn’t spit at her like an improper animal), when she’s doused in the chilled liquid, and it coats the face-framing layers of her hair, her lashes, and drips down her chin — that’s the highlight of his day. 

He doesn’t instantly fix the gag back into her mouth, or slip the rope back over her irritated skin. He watches her, his jaw set, and when the young woman opens her eyes, she sees that storm brewing, manifesting — the kind she’d only imagined prior, in the flinty green of his irises. Like he’s harnessing his own composure. But then he takes a step back, and just. Leans against the closed door. Like he’s scoping her with his gaze. Like she’s just this shiny thing for his sight to pore over. 

And Seren thinks that feels worse than if she were to face the bite of his skin against her own, the swat of his palm against her cheek. She’d rather that, honestly. 

Her skin is cold from the water. She’s still sort of reeling that he’d done that, to begin with. He’s drumming the pads of his fingers against his bicep, over the nearly-sheer, cream sleeve of his shirt when he asks, a serious note of authority to the molasses of his speech, “Do you know who I am?” 

Seren curbs parroting the question wryly. As much as she’d love to tell him her father will torch the ship he rides upon and hang every member of his crew, him and his stupid fucking dimples included, she’s sure that all she’ll receive in response is a grating twitch of his pink mouth. 

“Hm?” he prods, making a show of cupping a palm behind his ear and steering his torso forward a smidge, half-expecting her response to be a series of shrill cries, for the hell of it.

Her answer is not one he expects. Frankly, the man doesn’t expect an intelligible response, the history of her opting for incoherent shouts, considered. But she speaks, afterall. It’s soft in decibel, feminine, and pleasant — her voice, unlike the aimless yelling he’d become accustomed to. Even still, it carries that undeniable note of derision. 

Seren tells him, “Someone …terribly disturbed.” 

Harry almost can’t help the way his cushiony mouth quirks. 

Almost. 

“Disturbed?” he scoffs, sardonically mirthy, “She spits at me like a fucking …filthy animal, and I’m disturbed. Aye, I’m disturbed.” 

The princess makes daggers with the gaze she sends in his direction. He lets her simmer in the wake of the light insult, for a moment, just drumming over his bicep, his mouth twitching in a kind of way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“I’m the captain of this ship,” Harry supplies softly, jade narrowed. 

There’s a twitch to her face then, something that slots by and withers in the blink of an eye. Something like recognition. And, fucking finally, Harry thinks — he can practically hear the angels croon at the crumbs of reception, from her, to his authority. 

“That means,” he motions out with the cup, his other arm still crossed, fingers wrapped about his waist now, “I’m in charge.” 

His voice is soft-spoken, a croon that spells it out for her, if she hasn’t already caught the drift. 

“I’m in charge of this ship. This crew,” he takes a step forward, ducking his chin as his eyebrows tip up a bit, “And you. And that means I’m in charge of what happens to you. So don’t you think it’s in your best interest to behave?” 

If he expects her to bow down and kiss the toes of his scuffed boots, the young woman doesn’t bite the bait. 

“You’re nothing but a mangy sea brute,” Seren declares, then, her chin held audaciously high, despite the ropes binding over her breasts and the foreboding ocean that sways beyond, with ravenous threat. He could lug her off onto the deck and chuck her off the plank, tied just like this. 

He doesn’t.  

He just stays leant against the wall, arms crossed over his bare chest. 

“Mangy sea brutes,” the pirate weighs her words, nodding slowly as he purses his lips in deliberation. And then his brows pinch together, “that’s quite insulting, actually. I take pride in my appearance, I’ll have you know.” 

“Mangy,” the young woman confirms, venom in her tone. 

The pirate props himself up and off, taking a languid step, each syllable of his cadence laced with condescension, “Now, rugged—“ and open mouthed smirk, a nudge with his chin, “I’ll accept. You don’t think I spend time in front of the mirror, darling? Mangy. What a rude word. I wasn’t aware that Siren, Princess of Essex was so abrasive.” 

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes when they flash to him — something like sharp surprise, mottled with pique. Like she didn’t expect him to know who exactly he was harboring upon his ship. The corners of his mouth crook. She’s seemingly appalled that he’s done his research. The glint of shock is gone, as soon as it shows itself. 

“Oh,” the captain takes a slow step forward in this sort of way, as if his body language is entirely meant to taunt her, hand in hand with his tongue, “I see. You thought I didn’t know who you were. Just some nameless, pretty little thing on my ship.” 

It’s a purposeful dig — the mispronunciation of her name. It’s only a vowel off, it could be chalked up to simple error, but it’s blatantly to mock her. Really, it’s a funny little dub since she enjoys spending so much screeching like the nuisance of a blaring alarm that just won’t shut off. It’s meant to demean her, to belittle her, because not even her name, blue-blooded and all, is worth correct pronunciation. That’s what she seems to hone on from the whole revelation, Harry finds. 

“Seren,” she corrects with bite, that same glower she’d worn prior reincarnated. 

The man takes another step. He cups behind his ear, and Seren promises herself that the moment she’s freed, she’ll personally chop off his stupid fucking ear for all the times he’d cupped behind that shell of it that way, so condescending. “What was that?” 

“Seren,” the young woman scowls, “Seren, Princess of Essex.”

He pauses, a cinch in his brows with this patronizing nod, like he’s weighing her correction, and then he tells her, motioning with an arm as the cinch relaxes, “Siren, Seren. Tomato, tomato.”

He motions with his palm nonchalantly. She wants to bite at his fingers. She doesn’t. 

“How dare you?” the young woman says instead. 

Harry’s mouth quirks. How dare he? What a pompous inquiry, molded by prissy lips. 

“How dare I?” the pirate repeats, and then just lifts his shoulder in a casually apathetic shrug. He takes a third step forward, raspberry lips smug and curled, “I just… dare.” 

And before the princess can voice her obnoxious protest, he shoves the cloth into her mouth and tugs up the rope, plucking a garbled sound of anger from her in the process. 

The silence is wonderful. 

By the time Harry returns to her for the third time, it’s well past nightfall. Light stops leaking from the crack of the window. Seren watches the shift, the way it rolls as the hours tick by, in the room. It morphs from behind her, its bright gold slipping into a darker orange, mottled with pink, and then dimmer, and dimmer, and dimmer, as minutes leak away, until all that’s left is dusk and the glow of the moonlight. 

The door creaks. She almost doesn’t see it, but she hears the pad of his boots over the wood and twists her neck to catch the sight of his legs as he steps through the threshold. 

“Honey, I’m home,” the pirate calls. 

Her eyes strain their sockets to catch the moonlight cresting off his cheekbones as his head dips, the dimpling that rises awake beside the corners of his mouth as they turn up at his own jest. He’s holding something. The captain winds around her, through the coat of darkness, and settles somewhere she can’t see. A thump, like something being set onto a table. Then, soft breaths fill the void of the silence. A strike of a match. Her eyes are forced to adjust to a warm, buttery glow as the little beam of fire, merged to a lantern, and then another, sends gold bouncing wall to wall. 

That’s when Harry sees that she's managed to make a home for herself on the floor, the chair she’s been restrained to tipped on its side. He almost doesn’t think anything of it, for a split second, but then, as the pads of his digits work buttons through their slits to disrobe, the pirate casts his gaze up for a double take. A twisted coil of satisfaction blooms in his chest as he observes her, the thought that whatever faulty maneuver she’d made to escape had resulted in this, and, well. That makes something joyful and mean bud. 

Seren listens to his boots, the step of them slow against the floorboards, until she sees him towering over her, in her peripherals. Her pupils shift. 

“Comfortable?” his brows climb with emphasis. The work of his fingertips over the buttons on his shirt are sluggish. Tired. She notes that motion, too — that fact that he’s actively shedding clothes. Nonchalantly. And it must show in her eyes, then. Something vulnerable, something uncomfortable, something raw, and petrified, because, yeah, she’s a petulant, little princess strapped to a chair in his cabin, against her will, and she fights him tooth and nail in every instance that he comes to visit her. But she’s a princess strapped to a chair, against her will, and it’s nightfall, and his skin is growing more bare, square inch by square inch, as the seconds pass. 

He must note that — whatever that shows, because the quirk of his priorly mirthy, strawberry mouth slips a tad. And then his features shape something relaxed. Something tired, again. Like he’s too worn. 

The sarky comment has those same traces of exhaustion seeping into it as his dismissive gaze disengages, honing on the work of his digits as he loops the final button through, “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’re not my type.”

The cloth slips apart, showcasing more skin. A line of hair from below his belly button, in soft, dark wisps that melts off behind his belt. Sturdy muscles of his abdomen that ripple as he moves, chin ducked—

His palms cup over the belt of holsters, and that clinks as he discards it, too, winding around to, she assumes, set it somewhere. And then, more skin to pore over when he returns, the sharp cut of a V, decorated with laurels, emphasized by the low hang of his trousers. He cocks his head down at her, like he’s contemplating. Contemplating what, Seren’s unsure. He moves out of her line of sight again. 

Her arm aches. She’d tipped over onto it what felt like hours ago, and it’d taken the brunt of the fall, lodged against the side of the chair with the situation of her joints being married in the bindings, behind her. She’d managed to roll forward on her shoulder, just a tad, so that the press against it wasn’t constant, but it still fucking hurt. Her palms, down to the tips of her digits, were numb, she had this heinous crick in her neck, and she’s sure that the moment she’s able to stand her tailbone will hurt like hell. If she’s ever allowed to stand again. Maybe he’ll hurl her into the open ocean, strapped to this godforsaken chair, afterall. 

For now, he just hauls her up. His touch — warm — skims the opposite arm before his palm wraps over the beam over the back of the chair and tugs, leveling her with ease. The young woman squeaks against the gag as she hovers, terrified to drop straight onto the limb again. She doesn’t. The pirate sets her straight with a tired grunt. His sight scales her arm, the one she’d toppled onto, and Seren can’t see, but she assumes it’s not in the most pristine condition. And then his touch smooths over the ache, a crease over his brow bone as his eyes pry, and she bristles. 

His mouth twitches, but it’s tired. Tired after having to deal with her, tired from whatever he’d spent his time doing beyond the cabin. Tired after sinking her ship and taking her hostage, Seren thinks bitterly. How exhausting. And Harry takes his hand away. 

From her new, upright view, she can see that little metal cup — the same one he’d brought her hours earlier. He’s set it onto the table, and she knows it wasn’t there before, which means he’s brought it with new water. Seren turns her head to face it. It’s the most she can manage given that she can’t tell him what she wants, what with the gag and all. 

“Thirsty?” he notes, chin over his shoulder in her direction as he shimmies the sleeves of his shirt off. Seren eyes the expanse of naked skin as it expands, from cuts of muscle to ink sunk into the flesh of his arm. Certainly, if she wasn’t before. 

The princess doesn’t answer. She can’t, and she’s not going to resort to a string of pathetic hums to get his attention. The captain sets his shirt onto the table in a pile of disarray, beside his belt, and takes the cup. When he makes his way over to her, Seren’s eyes don’t follow his figure. And for a moment, there’s only a deliberative sort of silence. She doesn’t look until he talks, until his tone is far more serious than she’s heard thus far. 

“If you spit it at me again, I will personally make sure you lick it back up, off the floorboards.” 

And wisely, she doesn’t spit the liquid back up at him when he tugs the gag free and tips the rim of the cup against her mouth. Seren doesn’t doubt he’s the type of man to follow through on his words. But that’s not why she drinks — she drinks because she’s fucking thirsty. Her tongue’s gone dry, and the back of her throat pinpricks with an uncomfortable soreness, and because the lukewarm liquid feels good spilling down her throat. She cranes her neck back, throat bobbing, and doesn’t stop until he’s pulled the cup away himself, and a little rivulet of water dribbles down the corner of her mouth. She takes a big gulp of air and expels it. 

And then, with angry sorts of eyes, the princess declares, “I’m hungry.” 

“You’re hungry,” the pirate mirrors, but it’s only wryly amused — his tired, sardonic smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and he sets the cup back onto the table with little urgency to get her food. “We don’t offer room service.” 

“You haven’t fed me once today,” Seren declares indignantly when he winds behind her, out of sight. And then there’s a sigh and a creak, the kind that seeps from mattress springs compressing. “This is— this is cruel, I’ll have you know. This is torture, this is—“ 

“Thank you for your honest review, we’ll make sure to take your feedback into account,” Harry chimes at her in true, facetious fashion, scrubbing over his eyes with a palm as he knees his way onto the bed. And then the pirate tells her, with a more serious note to his drawl, before she has a chance to interject with another complaint, “If you’re going to talk all night, I’m going to put your gag back in until the morning.” 

Seren doesn’t say anything. Finally, she doesn’t say anything at all, and it’s splendid. It’s peace and quiet, and all he hears, for a perfect moment, is the creak of the wood and the subdued roar of the waves. 

“I don’t want to stare at the wall,” the princess speaks, eventually, like a petulant child. “Why am I staring at the wall?”

“Because …that’s the way the chair’s facing,” Harry responds, matter-of-factly and almost instantly, sure that a note of irritation has managed to teem into the words despite his best efforts. He will not let her know that her efforts of poking are chipping at his composure, he won’t. 

And for another moment, Seren doesn’t say anything. He lets his eyes drift shut. 

“I want to face you,” the princess says, eventually, and her tone implies she’s taken the bridge of silence to build the phrase up into something more demanding, something royal and authoritative. If he wasn’t so fucking tired he’d laugh. 

“You want to watch me sleeping?” she hears the pirate from behind her, his honey-smooth drawl grown raspy and lower from, seemingly, exhaustion, “That’s an odd request.” 

Her brows furrow as a scowl paints her mouth. The bed creaks in the gap of quiet. Every hair stands on end when, suddenly, he’s inches from her, his presence looming and warm from behind, with calloused fingertips brushing the side of her neck in their venture towards that godforsaken gag. 

“Just turn me!” Seren shrieks, “Just turn me, and I’ll be quiet!” 

He doesn’t put the gag in. He winds around her, hand still on the rope, his features shaped with apathetic seriousness, “If I turn you because you want me to turn you, what good am I at putting my foot down? Hm?”

Seren blinks up at him.

“Please,” the princess tells him, hushed and earnest, “I don’t feel …safe.” 

His brows twitch. There’s something that blooms in the jade at her admission, but it flits by, gone as quickly as it’d appeared. And then his brows furrow, and he looks absolutely exasperated, the subtle downturn at the edges of his mouth emphasized with the roll of that same jade. The pirate scoffs, and his boots stomp over the wood, each step an inclination that his frustration has leaked into his body language. 

“I told you—“ the legs of the chair screech against the floorboards — he doesn’t even grunt as he maneuvers her with ease, the motion rough like it’s a chore, “—that you’re not my type. Not everybody wants to fuck you, your highness.” 

Seren blinks, pupils poring over the priorly unseen sight of the opposite end of the room. A slit of a window, brushing the edge of the wall that merges into the ceiling. A bookshelf of literature and knickknacks. A dresser, a queen-sized mattress on the floor. The pirate still looks absolutely miffed when he walks toward the table with the lantern, bare shoulders squared and the muscles in his back rippling. He sets the light out, kicks off his boots, and falls into the bed unceremoniously. 

It’s a victory. 

And for a moment, Seren thinks he’s just going to wordlessly roll over to avoid her prying gaze. He doesn’t do that. They bask in the crash of the waves outside, the darkness, and their quiet breaths. He’s got this knack — Seren’s learned. This skill of morphing from sarcastic and teasing to broodingly serious, and it’s mercurial, sort of. She wonders if this brooding side’s what’s brought him to lead an entire ship. 

“Be quiet now,” the pirate drawls from the sheets, in that broodingly serious cadence, “If I hear another word, I’ll personally carry you out onto the deck, and you can sleep in the chair out there.” 

The man rolls over to face the wall. Seren doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night.

[karaspal]

kid!jon fans would not survive being a chris kent fan. everything they say happened to jon actually happened to chris.

randomly aged up?

chris was. he was six one second and then got magically aged up to eighteen the other, while still being a kid inside.

jon wasn’t. he lived all those years, just off page.

in a weird relationship?

chris was. like i said, he was a kid in a teen’s body. and he was dating an actually 18/19 year old girl. idk, i find it pretty weird and wrong.

jon is the same age as jay. so they are fine.

what’s funny is, chris did get deaged back to a six year old at the end of new krypton. so dc does know when they’ve made a bad decision when it comes to supes kids’ age lol.

[elephantlovemedleys]

PATRICK SWAYZE and JENNIFER GREY photographed at the 60th Academy Awards (1988)

[silmarillaure]

I may not like Finwë but he deserves to be so angry that Thingol that he'd genuinely be willing to commit a kinslaying himself.

Honestly, I do think Finwë x Elwë is cute. It really is, but notice how I said Elwë, who wanted to go to Valinor simply because Finwë wanted to go there, even if the reason Finwë wanted to go there was for Míriel (which is painfully ironic, both Finwë & Elwë ended up betraying the person they were initially so devoted to).

Thingol on the other hand clearly isn't Elwë anymore. He rejected that name, he rejected Finwë's family (which might as well have been a rejection of Finwë himself since he died loving Míriel & her descendants more than he loved his own life), and stole the very thing Finwë's favorite son made that Finwë died trying to protect.

He can and WOULD be enraged over how Thingol treated the Fëanorians even before C&C stirred shit up.

Finwë feeling so betrayed by Elwë and despising the person Thingol became so much that he beats Thingol to a bloody pulp and goes to give Fëanor a comforting hug while his hands are still covered in Thingol's blood... is something helps me sleep at night.

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 24

Hancock x Nora - A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ]

//

Two weeks had come and gone since Nora had taken up residence at the Slog, and she was sure that if she ever had it her way she’d never leave. The people were so willing to accept her into their social circles, and that in itself was borderline mind blowing. Striking up conversation with the Sanctuary crew felt so stilted, so forced. Perhaps it was because the expectations for her in Sanctuary were so high. The ghouls in the Slog didn’t expect anything out of her, but they were more than willing to teach valuable post-war life skills and Nora was an incredibly eager student. In the midst of it all, under Arlen’s gentle guidance, Nora was learning how to build a water purifier. 

All it took was a passing complaint about Sanctuary and the water purifier debacle; about how they seemed to assume she just had that sort of mechanical knowledge, or would be able to magically procure one. It was just some idle venting as she visited with the older ghoul in his workshop; nothing more, nothing less. Arlen had hummed thoughtfully, then promptly guided her out of his workshop, telling Nora to go offer Jones and Holly some help in the garden. It was a couple hours later, as she was chopping tatos for dinner, when Arlen emerged from his workshop. He called her name, and once she reached him, he passed her a slip of ancient notebook paper. It was a schematic, a blueprint. In clean writing off to the side, he listed the required components, and what sort of machinery she could dig around to find them. 

“If you want to get the parts, we can work on it together,” he had told her. His gentle smile was so fatherly, so caring. Nora couldn’t help it, she pulled the man into a tight hug. 

It felt as if Nora had cashed in every ounce of good karma she had saved up. No one in the Slog would accept any compensation for their time, and tutelage. No one would accept caps as a thanks. It didn’t feel like it was nearly enough, but all they would take from her was her gratitude and on some days they made that seem as if it were too much. Or, Holly would just get a little fed up with all the thank yous, and would tell Nora to stop saying it…

Though Nora still experienced moments of extreme guilt when she realized how little progress she had made when it came to finding her boy, it was quickly quelled when she reminded herself that she didn’t know how to survive on her own. If she managed to find Shaun, she wouldn’t know how to take care of him, she barely knew how to take care of herself. Nora didn’t want to be the reason why her son fell ill, or went hungry. So she learned what plants were acceptable to eat. She learned how to harvest vegetables, and razor grain. She learned how they stored their meat, and how to keep it properly preserved. And with Arlen Glass’ help, she would learn how to create a source of clean drinking water. Baby steps were still steps.

After accepting the blueprint from Arlen, Nora finally ventured away from the Slog to hunt down the supplies that she needed to build the water purifier. Every morning, after helping with breakfast, Nora would set out to scrounge up whatever scraps and machinery that she could. She siphoned gasoline, she hoarded fan belts, screws, and bolts. She would haul bags of gear back to the Slog, depositing them on Arlen’s workbench before setting out again. In the evenings, after she got back, Nora would help with dinner and then take a shift at evening watch. In the midst of it all, as she worked, as she traveled, her and John got to know each other.

They would go through daily idle chatter (”How was your day, dear?”), then continue on with any number of things. They covered a vast spectrum of topics, from favorite colors and foods, to more philosophical things. John divulged childhood memories, and awkward teenage experiences, and Nora would follow suit. As the days went on, Nora found herself becoming incredibly fond of the man. He was charismatic, and he was a whole lot smarter than he gave himself credit for. He was loyal to the people he considered his, and as loyal as he was he was even more protective. Nate would have loved him. The more Nora got to know John Hancock of Goodneighbor, the more certain she was that Nate and John would have been fast friends. They were both stubborn and loyal to a fault. They were both strong, and capable men, and even though she had only known John for a short while, she knew without a doubt that both men would bend over backwards to make her happy. John had helped her with so many things. She owed him so much. 

Bit by bit, she gathered the things on Arlen’s list and, after days of meticulous searching, she had everything that they needed. She stopped her daily wandering, and took up a spot in Arlen’s workshop where, together, they started constructing the water purifier. 

“Sounds like all he wants from you is a chance,” Arlen said, passing her a pair of needle nose pliers. “When you’re ready, I think you should give that to him.”

Arlen Glass had become her best friend, her confidant. After giving her tea on her first night he had somehow become a post-apocalypse father figure. His guidance helped Nora rediscover her confidence.

“Nate would want me to be happy, but – Ouch!” she recoiled, eyeballing a small bleeding cut on her finger. Nora leaned in close to the chassis of the under-construction water purifier. She nearly stuck her head inside as she searched for what had done the damage. “But I’m… afraid, I guess?”

“Afraid of being happy, when you think you shouldn’t be allowed to?”

Nora’s eyes shot to Arlen’s in surprise. Arlen was usually a little more gentle with his advice. He would pass her the seeds, but he would let her plant and sow things on her own. He wasn’t typically so blunt, but having heard Arlen’s story, she understood where he was coming from. He’d had a family, a beautiful one; but he had sacrificed happiness for work, and then he lost everything.

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds dumb,” she grumbled almost petulantly. She turned her attention back to their project.

Arlen chuckled in that airy way of his as he said, “You smile when you talk about Nate and John, you know. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.

Nora’s gaze tore away from her project yet again. Arlen had settled back in the old chair in his workshop. It was his typical sitting place whenever he read his morning paper. Instead of reclining back in the chair he was leaning forward, knees on his elbows, with a small, knowing smile. 

“You’re a smart woman, Eleanor. You should know that you wouldn’t be betraying Nathan by finding happiness again. If he was anything like you’ve said, he would want you safe, and happy. He’d want you to love and be loved.”

There was a sudden tightness in Nora’s throat. She did her best to swallow it down, and turn her attention back to the purifier but Arlen was suddenly at her side, cupping her face in his hands. They were hearty, weathered and overly textured, but they were also warm and grounding. 

“It’s okay for you to be happy, Eleanor,” he said it slowly, deliberately. “It’s okay.”

Nora’s hands rested over Arlen’s as she warbled, dangerously close to crying, “What if I fall in love with him and—“

“Honey, I think you might have already. Even if only a little bit.” The statement was like a kick to the gut, delivered with a smile. It knocked Nora’s world off its axis. Arlen continued, “If there is anything that can be learned from loss, it’s that you need to love the people in your life as strongly, and as fiercely as you can, because we never know when those special people will be taken away. Just remember, he will never replace Nate. You have a big heart, Eleanor. There is space for John in there, too.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice tight. That’s all she said because that’s all she could muster. 

“I’m not saying that you need to hurry up and stop mourning; and I’m not saying that you need to hurry up and fall in love.” The old ghoul placed a kiss to the crown of her head before leveling his eyes with hers. “But you need to know that it’s okay when you do. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date. If you wait for it to go away naturally, you’ll be waiting for forever and a day.”

“So it never goes away? It’s… This? Forever?” The guilt for growing fond of another man, the feeling of replacing someone she loved, the lingering dredges of hurt that hung around in her chest.

Arlen withdrew, turning his eyes to the in-progress water purifier, and then the pieces of an old Giddyup Buttercup. “They say that time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t. It just makes it easier to deal with.”

“Hey, smoothskin!” It was Wiseman’s voice, calling her from the front of the pool house.

Nora closed her eyes, swallowing at the lump in her throat, “Yeah?” She called out as Arlen picked up the needle nose pliers, and took over the task at hand.

“You got a visitor!”

The frown that had been marring Nora’s features deepened. Damn near every single person she knew who would want to visit her already lived in the Slog. Unless it was Preston for some reason. Or John. She was too aware of the way her heart leapt. Slowly, she peaked out of one of the broken windows to get eyes on the visitor. From a glance, it wasn’t anyone that she recognized from Sanctuary, and it most definitely wasn’t John. Nora’s hand immediately began to drift down to the pistol holstered at her thigh. 

“Go on,” Arlen said. “I’ll finish up this bit, and we can pick it up later.”

“Arlen?” 

“Mm?” He hummed, haltingly. 

She placed a hand on his forearm, leaning in to kiss the older man’s cheek. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

He tossed his head and said again, “Go on.”

With no small amount of hesitance, she left Arlen’s shop, stepping out into the early evening air. It had been a warm day, enough so that Nora had unzipped the top half of her vault suit in favor of adorning an oversized t-shirt. The arms of the suit were tied securely around her waist, and her hair was tied back into a ponytail. Her hands were greasy, scraped, and she could make out the dark smear of oil across her nose. She wasn’t really dressed for company, but she supposed that she never would be. 

Stepping around the building, Nora cleared her throat. The newcomer turned to face her. A smoothskin, like her. He wore an old conductor styled hat, a long coat, and he had a rifle hanging off his shoulder from a makeshift sling that looked to be fastened from an old belt. As she grew closer, she noted that he was handsome. Cheekbones that she could cut herself on, a proud, straight nose. Tanned, blue eyes, and a confident smile. 

“Well,” he said at length, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Nora held her distance, fishing an old rag from her pocket so she could start cleaning her hands. The tenuous grasp on her emotions turned steely as she stared the stranger down. No one would know that she had been on the brink of crying (ugh, again) thirty seconds ago. She eyed him warily, “Do I know you?”

His smile grew, “No. But I know you.”

The man’s eyes followed her hand as it dropped down to her side, resting casually by her pistol. Off to the side, she could see Wiseman tense and reach for her own weapon. 

Suddenly, the man laughed, “Calm down, girl! Shi-oot, I’m a friendly.” He’d almost said ‘shit’ but he had redirected. She didn’t know why, but that seemed important. She’d stow that away for later.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why don’t you, uh…” his index finger tapped his temple. 

At this point, the Slog ghouls knew that Nora had a soulmate. It was hard to keep things secret when the space was so open, and communal. Especially when they noticed just how much she seemed to talk to herself. She couldn’t find the ability to look any of them in the eye and just insist that she was a touch crazy.

Without breaking eye contact with the stranger, Nora opened her end of the bond and reached. “John?”

The answer was immediate, ”What’s crackin’, doll fa – shit, is that MacCready? Fuck, he works fast…”

“You know him?” she asked, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. Wiseman waved his hand, catching her attention. He made a gesture, indicating that he was going to be inside. She nodded, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’.

”Yeah, I know him. He’s out that way runnin’ an errand or two for me. I didn’t expect for him to get to you for another week or so.”

“Wh-why didn’t you tell me that he was coming? I… God, I was getting freaked out.” It could have been another one of those sickos from the drive-in. It could have been someone much, more worse.

“Easy, angel,” the man known as MacCready drawled. “I told you, I’m a friendly.”

”Don’t you call her that, you little shit.”

Nora snorted, then immediately covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. She wanted to be irritated, dang it. The second he had made arrangements for someone to come meet her, she should have known about it. She composed herself, dropping her hand. “He said your name was MacCready?”

“Yep! RJ MacCready, and you must be Nora,” he held out his hand, and Nora reached to shake it. Only for her hand to be lifted, she watched with almost wide eyes as he pursed his thin lips to plant a kiss to her skin. 

”Goddammit, MacCready!”

MacCready stopped, a mere centimeter from making contact, and then he snickered, giving her hand a firm shake. He was laughing, eyes glittering with his amusement. He seemed to be banking on John seeing the interaction, and had been aiming to irritate Nora’s soulmate for fun.

”Tell that little fucker that he ain’t gettin’ paid for shit!”

It didn’t matter how much she wanted to be angry, she couldn’t even manage a bit of irritation to shoot in John’s direction. 

“He mad?” MacCready asked, his smile stretched from ear-to-ear..

Maybe it was the total relief that she felt, but Nora couldn’t help but laugh as she replied, “He seems to be a little annoyed, yeah.”

“Awesome.”

\\

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl  / @yamatra

[ivyial]

so i just finished chapter 3 of jake and sherry's campaign in re6 and

.

why do i never see anything about this ship they're so cute wtf, pls tell me they used to be at least sort of popular back in the re6 days

[intairnwetrust]

Why did I just came across a Tiktok account that seriously ships Violet with fucking Jack? 💀

Send help, for them and me

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Reader gives Colby the cold shoulder for something that happened years ago, only to come to terms with what they want to do about it.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, reader is kind of snippy with Colby, alcohol consumption, slight name calling, use of pet names, hair pulling, choking, oral (f rec), unprotected slightly intoxicated sex, just filth

This honestly did go the way I wanted it to, so might rewrite it later on or something. I don’t know, but there's going do be a point in this one shot to where I add more warnings. You'll understand when you come to it. Enjoy! 🖤

Word count: 6.3 | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"You rented out a club?" You raise your brows, "Wow, you really do plan on celebrating." You put the straw of your iced coffee between your lips.

"Yeah, well this is a big thing to be celebrating." Sam laughs, "I just.. I know you and Colby don't really get along.. so I just-"

You put your hand up, "I can tolerate him for you, Sam. So, no worries. It's just when he-"

"Well, well, well, look who we have here."

You roll your eyes, pointing behind you, "That."

"Hey." Sam says leaning back into the couch, "Where were you?" Colby sits down on the arm of your chair, knowing that it will bug the shit out of you, "I went down to the club, talked to the owner."

"Without me?" Sam tilts his head, "I figured, since you and Princess here-" he nods towards you and you roll your eyes, "-were busy planning this, I would take the liberty of going down and paying the down payment."

"Oh shit." Sam looks at you and you nod, "I totally forgot."

"See. Don't worry. I'm not just worried about partying." He winks at you and you slowly look towards Sam, "Can I strangle him now?"

Sam laughs, "Can you wait until after the party's over?"

You nod, "I guess I can strangle him with a streamer or something."

Colby laughs, "Don't threaten me with a good time." You scoff, standing up, "I'm going shopping. I need a dress for tomorrow night."

"Oh, can I come, too? I need to find a nice shirt." Sam leans forward and you nod, "You can. But he can't."

"What did I do to be punished by staying home?" Colby raises his hands and you laugh, "By Colby being Colby."

You were actually surprised when Colby didn't follow you guys out the door.

"So what's your deal with Colby, really? You never really filled me in on that. All I know is that you just hate him." Sam asks as he buckles up.

You laugh, "I know he's your friend, brother, bestie, whatever, but he just gets on my last nerve. Every single time he's around me."

Sam laughs, "Have you ever thought that maybe he likes you?"

"Did he say he likes me?" You glance over at Sam as you drive and Sam shakes his head, "No. I'm just asking if you ever thought about it."

"Now I'm thinking maybe you should have joined him." You mumble with a laugh, "No, I mean. I guess I never really thought- no. No. I don't. Next subject please."

Sam laughs, shaking his head, "Oh yeah. You guys like each other. You just don't know it yet."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah, tell that to the multiple girls in his phone."

Sam sighs, "Colby isn't what you think. Now, I'm not sticking up for him when he constantly picks on you, but at the same time, he doesn't act the way he acts with you when he's with other people."

"Other girls, you mean." You smirk slightly and sam nods, "Well, yeah."

You sigh, "It's like he knows he annoys me and he just uses that to his advantage at really getting under my skin."

"You let him."

You look at Sam, "No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Do fucking not."

He laughs, "Do fucking to."

"I'm done talking." You lay your hand over your mouth, "Actually- no. Nevermind."

Sam laughs, "As I said. You guys like each other. You just don't know it yet."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"I think I'm just going to settle with this mesh romper style looking dress." You hang the other dresses up and Sam tilts his head, "Do you like that one?"

You shrug, "I mean it's com-" your phone ringing catches your attention and you roll your eyes when you see it's Colby.

"Out of me and Sam. You had to call me?" You say as you bring the phone to your ear.

"Yeah, because I knew it would bug you." Colby laughs, "Can you do me a favor?"

"It depends." You look at Sam and he tilts his head, "What's up?"

You shrug, holding up your pointer finger.

"Can you pick me up a shirt? Like a nice button up or something? You know what I like to wear."

"Really. Why didn't you just-"

Colby cuts you off, "Now before you finish that sentence, remember who banished me from coming along. So consider this.." he hums, "I don't know, payback?"

You fight back laughter, "Go to hell, Colby."

"Hell with you sounds like heaven to me. See ya when you get back, Princess."

And with that, Colby hangs up.

You look at Sam, "I guess we have to pick up Colby a shirt for Saturday, too." He laughs and sighs, "I knew that was going to happen."

"And you didn't say anything before?" You say as you walk back over to the dress section. Sam shrugs, "I like to see how things play out."

You roll your eyes, "I hate you sometimes."

Sam slings his arm over your shoulder, "We both know that that isn't true."

You laugh, "Whatever you say." You look through the dresses and gasp slightly when you come across a navy blue dress with chain straps that cross in the back, "Nevermind. I like this one better."

You put the other one on the rack, picking up the blue one, "Alright, now to find you and douche bag a shirt."

"You can be so nice sometimes." Sam laughs and you look at him, "I know, right."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Yo Colby. We're back." Sam yells as you walk into the house.

You close the door, looking around to find the house empty, or so you thought.

"Colby?" Sam yells again and you point to the steps, "I'll run up and put his shirt in his room."

You dig through the bag and pull out his shirt. You sling it over your shoulder as you move up the steps.

You let out a sigh as you reach the top, turning to walk down the hall. You twist the knob, pushing the door open and you freeze when you see a shirtless Colby sitting at his computer with his headphones on.

After a few seconds, you blink, breaking your stare and you clear your throat. You throw the shirt at him and he jumps, whipping his head over to look at you.

"Jesus Christ, y/n." He laughs as he pulls his headphones down around his neck. He pulls the shirt off his shoulder and the back of the chair.

"Sam yelled for you twice." You lean against the door frame, "Does that reach your standards?"

Colby holds up the split, two tone skull button up, "I knew I could count on you." He looks back at you and you roll your eyes, "Uh huh. You're welcome."

As you go to close the door, Colby stops you, "Hey, wait a second."

"Yeah?" You blink slowly, looking at him.

"Why don't you hang out with me for a while? I can promise I'm not as bad as you think." He spins towards you and you suck air through your teeth, "Something tells me that sticking my hand in vat of acid would hurt less than being alone with you."

"Um.." he tilts his head, shaking it slightly, "Ouch?" He laughs and raises his hands, "Why do you despise me so much?"

No one knows the real reason, you refuse to tell anyone why. It felt silly, but at the same time.. it felt like it was best to keep it between you and only you.

Younger you, the one that Colby, unknowingly, broke the heart of, was holding a grudge, to say the least.

So you put up a wall.

You made Colby the enemy so you wouldn't fall for him like you did years ago.

"I just.. have better things to do than g-" you stop yourself, "I have plans, dinner plans with friends."

"Yeah? Where at?" Colby smirks and you roll your eyes, "Kris, Celina, and I are going to that new place that opened on Fifth."

"Hmm. I see. Well you three have fun."

You nod, turning around and pulling the door shut, and you mentally curse yourself because Sam was right.

You do, infact, allow him to get under your skin because a part of you, a big part, is still madly in love with him.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

As you walk into your apartment from dinner with friends, your phone chimes in your purse. You let out a sigh, closing the door before setting your purse on the stand and digging out your phone.

You smirk slightly when you see it's a text from Colby, So, how was dinner? Is that place worth going to?

You kick your shoes off, walking over to the couch and plopping down, I mean.. yeah. It was worth it I'd say.

You set your phone down, switching on your tv, but your mind can't focus on what's playing. Instead, it focuses on what Sam said earlier on in the day.

"You two like each other, you just don't know it yet."

You start questioning everything, Was he implying that Colby liked you? Could you be able to open up to him again? Why didn't he seen that you liked him before? Was there something wrong with you back then?

Colby was the first person you ever felt love for. When you seen him with, not just another girl, but with your friend that knew you liked him - it shattered you.

That first heartbreak was the worst, and since you were friends with Sam, it followed you.

Haunted you for all these years.

You phone dings and you blink, looking over at it. You pick it up and laugh weakly as your eyes scan over Colby's texts.

We should drag Sam there before we head to the club on Saturday.

So now I'm getting radio silence?

Come on, Princess. You can't ignore me, we're so in love, remember?

You bring your phone down, resting in your lap as you type, you know that I hate you right?

You start to type out a message, Actually, Colby. I take that back. I don't actually hate you I-

You stop once you see Colby's message pop up, you know, I once heard that enemies make the best lovers.

You delete your half written text, replacing it, oh yeah? Where did you hear that from? The little voice inside of your head.

You laugh slightly and toss your phone down, getting up to go get a drink. By the time you come back, you have two new messages.

Of course from Colby.

Hey, that man is smart. At times. Don't judge me.

Listen, can we hang out? I think we can get along just fine.

You read his message, debating on what you should do. Of course you want to hang out with him, but that little piece of you wants to keep pushing him away.

By the time you start typing out a lie, there's a knock on your door.

You walk over, looking out of the peep hole and sighing as you open the door, "You're relentless, Brock."

"Yet.. you still open the door for me." He smirks as he walks in, "I always forget how small your apartment is."

You close the door, "You know you can leave at any-"

"Relax, princess. I'm joking." He smirks as he shrugs off his black leather jacket, "So whatcha have good for dinner?"

You watch as he walks over to the couch, sitting down, "Um. I just had.. the pasta."

Fight it.

No, tell him. Tell him how you really feel.

No. You have to fight it. He's your enemy. He broke your heart.

He doesn't know that.

You shake your head, huffing as you get the little angel and demon on your shoulders to shut up.

"What did you say?" You tilt your head, "Sorry. I'm just really tired."

"Mhm." Colby hums, "I asked how fancy the place was."

You walk over, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, "Eh, I mean it's more like a business casual type place? I don't know. We just showed up how we all normally dress and no one batted an eye, so I don't really think it matters."

Colby stares at you and you look at him, "What?"

A smile grows on his face a slowly, "That's the nicest you've ever been to be."

"Oh fuck off." You laugh, "What are you doing here anyway?"

Colby leans back against the couch, extending his arm over the back, "I told you I wanted to hang out."

Your eyes scan over his ring covered fingers, "Yeah, I was going to tell you-"

"A lie." He says cutting you off, "yeah. I figured that's why I didn't give you an option." He laugh, "I know I can be hard to deal with sometimes, but I think if we can work whatever your issue is with me, we can be decent friends."

"It's not.." you sigh, "I just.." you struggle to come up with something and Colby calls you out, "It's not.. you just.. what? What?" He laughs, "Do you like me? Are you nervous and you try to cover it up with being mean to me?"

You laugh, "You're ridiculous." You look at him, "Me.. liking you? Please."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" He shrugs, "I mean, honesty is the best policy, right?"

"I thought you came here to hang out, not interrogate me." You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. Colby raises his hands, "Yeah, right. Sorry."

"So this party." You lean back and look at him, "Who all is going to be there?"

"Usually the same ones who are at the others. Me, you. Sam. Jake and Johnnie. Tara. Oh." He snaps, "We got the triplets to come."

You raise your brows, "You guys Nick, Chris, and Matt to come? Wow. Look at you. Moving up in the world." You tease with a laugh, "so I'm sure it'll be fun."

He nods, "I'm hoping."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few hours later you wake up, blanket over your body and the end credits to the movie rolling on the tv screen.

You sit up, looking around, but Colby is no where to be found.

You reach for your phone to check the time, but see a message from Colby. You click on it, opening the text to see a picture of you asleep on the couch, you look so pretty when you sleep.

Although it was a sweet gesture, your wall is still up around yourself, you'll look pretty after I stab you.

You set your phone down, standing up to go change into comfier clothes.

As you come back, your phone dings, but it's not who you think.

It's from Sam, So how'd it go?

You instantly respond, Did you tell him to come here?

Sam answers, I'm not telling you anything until you tell me how it went.

You sit back down, laughing, He's alive isn't he.

You go back to Colby's thread and read what he sent, Again, don't threaten me with a good time.

You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you lay back down to go to sleep.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

It's been, radio silence, all day.

Nothing from Sam.

Nothing from Colby, which is actually kind of surprising.

"Hey." Tara calls out, "I'm here. Where are you?"

"Bedroom." You yell from the comfort of your bed, knowing that that's going to get destroyed once the door opens.

"What are you doing in bed still?" Tara asks walking over, "Come on! Time to get ready to par-tay!" She walks over, opening your curtains and you groan, "Five more minutes."

You roll over but Tara climbs onto you, "Hey."

You look up at her, "What."

She tilts her head, "What's going on with you?" You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Why?" Tara whines, shaking your shoulders slightly and you groan, letting out a sigh, "If you get off of me, I'll tell you."

She moves off, sitting next to you and she pushes her glasses up onto her nose, "Okay. Spill."

You sit up, "You can't tell anyone. I haven't ever told anyone this before, not even Sam."

"Yeah, okay whatever. Now tell me."

"You know how.. I've always given Colby the cold shoulder?" You look up at her and she laughs, "Yeah, I think it's funny."

"Well, it's.."

"Come on, spit it out. We're losing daylight here. I still need to try on dresses." Tara pushes your leg and word vomit spills from your mouth in a non stop string.

"Colby broke my heart a few years back and I don't think he knows and ever since then I've been holding a grudge against him. I basically made him my enemy so I didn't get close to him again and it's all because I love him and I really don't want to feel the heartache I felt the first time around."

Tara stares at you, blinking as she processes everything you just spat at her.

"I haven't said anything because it just felt... silly? I don't know. He came over last night and all I wanted to do was keep pushing him away but that other part of me wants to tell him but I just.. can't. Do. It."

"Well.." Tara leans back and you know something bad is going to come out of her mouth, "what."

She purses her lips, "I think this is a bad time to t-"

"Just say it."

"Colby has a date tonight."

You feel your heart sink, but anger rises up quickly.

Mainly at yourself, but some towards Colby for the way he made everything feel different in the course of a day.

It feels like a repeat of what happened years ago.

"Oh." You purse your lips, "Hmm."

"I don't think it's anything serious, I-"

You just Tara off, "No. it's okay." You get up, "I'm fine. Just.." you sigh, "Please don't tell anyone. I'm serious."

She holds her hands up, "I promise. But you.." she points to you, "..missy, you need to handle this yourself."

You nod, "Yeah. I'll just.. let the alcohol do the talking." You laugh, grabbing your things for a shower.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You hear the music growing louder as you walk closer to the club from the car.

Your heart racing harder the more you anticipate seeing Colby with his hands all over his date.

You smile to the bouncer as you walk in, laughing as Tara dances next to you. You greet people, smiling and saying hey as you make your way around.

"Oh there's Sam!" Tara waves her hand at him, and as people in the crowd move, you see Colby standing next to a brunette at the bar.

Your jaw clenches, "Can you get me a drink?" Tara looks at you, "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Whatever, just make it a double." You watch as she walks away and you move into the corner of the club, sitting down on the chair.

It's not long after that Sam walks up to you, "That doesn't look like the happy face of someone who helped me plan this."

You look up at him as he sits on the small table in front of you, giving him a slight laugh, "No I'm happy about this."

"But you're not happy about.."

You tilt your head, "You were right."

A small smirk grows on Sam's lips, "Do you want to clarify exactly, or.." he laughs as you glare at him, "Sam."

"Yeah, I don't know why he's hanging out with her tonight. We both agreed to just come together."

"Really? Tara told me-"

"Here you go, y/n." Tara hands you or drink and you immediately suck half of it down, "Oh god, I needed that." 

You look back up at Tara but she's gone, already dancing with people on the dance floor.

Sam reaches out, punching your knee, "Do you wanna go somewhere and talk?" You put your straw between your lips and nod.

You get up, following Sam to a room on the side and he closes the door.

Little do you know, you have Colby's full attention.

"Alright, gimme the tell all." Sam rubs his hands together and you laugh slightly, "A few years ago.. something happened with Colby and it stuck with me."

Sam's face falls slightly, "What happened?"

"I.. liked Colby. A lot. Like, he was my first love, basically. I thought he liked me too, and then he got with-"

Sam cuts you off, "Stella. I remember that." He nods, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think I had to." You blurt out, sucking down the rest of your alcohol, "God. Now I'm mad that I'm out of alcohol."

Sam chuckles, "Alright. Let's go get you more and you just .. enjoy the party you helped me plan, okay?"

You take a deep breath, nodding as you look at him, "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "It's fine. Come on." He walks over, opening the door and the loudness floods in. You walk out, heading straight for the bar.

The bartender points to you and you lean in, "Can I get a double captain and coke please." He nods and walks away to make it.

You tap the bar as you wait and you feel someone walk up next to you, "What'd ya order?"

"Double captain." You say, eyes glued to the bottles of alcohol on the shelf across from you.

"Going heavy from the start, huh?" Colby asks leaning down, "Are you okay?"

You look at him, "Yeah. I'm great." You force a smile and look away from him, taking your drink and bringing the straw to your lips.

"Slow down, you'll get-"

You cut Colby off, "Don't you have a date to worry about?"

Colby cocks his jaw, "Mm. I see."

"See what?" You snap and before Colby can answer, you feel a hand around your wrist and you're pulled from the bar.

"Come on, tiger. Now's not the time." Tara says looking back at you. You bring your drink up, sucking as much down as you can before you stop.

"Dance. You need to settle." Tara starts to dance and you can't help but laugh, feeling a bit looser from the first drink settling in quickly.

You force yourself to not look at Colby, keeping your distance because your anger wants to lash out.

You were pissed all over again from him being so oblivious the first time around.

You were pissed about him coming over last night, making things feel like they could be alright.

You were pissed you even thought about letting your guard down.

"Another double captain and Coke." You slide your empty glass on the bar and look behind you as you hear the music die down.

Everyone starts to cheer when Sam walks up on to the small stage, followed by Colby.

"Thank you guys so much for being here." Sam starts out, "You know, I want to say a huge thank you to someone who's here tonight. Without her, we couldn't have planned this party like this. Y/n." Sam pauses, looking around, "Where are ya?"

You raise your hand and Sam starts speaking, "There she is. Everyone please give y/n a hand because she's the one who made this party happen."

You smile, looking around and you take your drink as soon as it's sets down on the bar.

The music starts to play loudly again and Sam makes his way through the crowd, "Hey. You doing okay?"

You laugh, "Oh yeah. Feeling much better."

He laughs, "I think you should talk to Colby." You take a deep breath, "I've moved past it." He raises a brow, "Have you?"

You groan, "No."

Sam leans in, "Tara made that girl leave, per Colby's request."

You turn your head, looking at Sam, "Really?"

Sam nods, "Mhm."

You found yourself wanting to kiss Sam, but you knew that wouldn't be a good thing, "Um.." you lean back, "Yeah.. I.."

Sam tilts his head, "What's up?"

You shake your head, "N-nothing. I think.. after this one.. I'm done.." you laugh, looking down at your full glass.

Sam laughs, "I see. Well, whenever you want to talk to Colby, just text me."

You turn towards Sam, placing your hand on his arm, "Can you be there? Just in case things.. get out of hand?"

He nods, "anything for you." He winks and smiles before he walks away.

You turn to the bar, staring down at the dark wood and now there's even more questions.

Why do you suddenly feel attacked to Sam?

Why did you want to kiss him?

"Fuck." You groan lowly, "What the fuck." You push yourself from the bar and walk to find the bathroom.

You walk in, taking a deep breath as the loudness drowns out, giving you a moment to think.

You pull out your phone, clicking on Sam's name. You try to type out a message, but nothing seems to sound right.

Your head starts to spin as more thoughts roll in and you lean against the wall.

The only way you were going to get any answers to the questions you have, is by talking to them.

You unlock your phone, sending a text to Sam, Okay, where do I have to go?

You hold your phone to your chest as you wait for an answer, which doesn't take long, Meet me by the stage.

You put your phone in your purse and pull open the door, walking down the small steps and around to the stage.

As you're looking around, you run into someone and when you look up, you see Sam smiling down at you, "Hey."

You smile forgetting all of your emotions for a split second, "Hey."

But it's all brought back when Sam nods, "Come on, follow me." You follow him past the bar, in through a door that leads you to a small corridor with three doors on either side.

Sam walks you to the last one, pushing the door open.

You follow him in, the room is lit red and Colby is sitting in a chair, chin rested in his palm, "About time."

"Sorry. I gave her time to be ready." Sam says as he closes the door behind you.

Your eyes stay on Colby and he looks at you, "What's up, Princess?"

You tilt your head, a billion things you want to say first racing through your mind.

You feel hands on your arms, gently rubbing up and down, "Just tell him." Sam whispers, "Tell him everything you told me."

If your heart could beat out of your chest, it would be on the floor right now.

"I'm.. so mad at you." You start, "I'm so fucking, unbelievably mad at you for breaking my heart and not even caring that it stuck with me all these years."

Colby nods, allowing you to continue, "You were my first love, and my first heartbreak. How did you not notice that I was head over heels for you?"

You pause, taking a breath, Sam's hands still on your arms, "I built a wall. Treated you like an enemy all because I fucking love you, but you made me too scared to even want to get close to you again."

Colby stands up, walking over to you, "What do you want, princess."

You lean back into Sam, his head resting on the back of yours, "I-I want.." you look up at Colby, "You."

A smirk grows on his lips and he pulls his lower one between his teeth. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, "Just me?"

You stare at him, kind of nervous to tell him about how you felt about Sam just a little bit ago.

Colby tilts his head, "You sure about that? I seen the way you were looking at him at the bar.." his hand travels up and down your bicep, "The way you're leaning into his touch right now."

You think about pulling away from Sam but you don't want to.

"Why do you think you've always been the only girl in my life?" Sam asks as he rests his chin on your shoulder, "Why do you think I'm always asking you to move out of that small ass apartment and into the spare room at our place?"

"Y-You.." you think for a moment, "You both want me?"

Colby nods, "Why do you think Sam was so persistent on getting you to be okay with me?"

"You talk?" You laugh slightly, "of course you do."

"We want you." Sam whispers, lips brushing against your cheek, "Do you want us?"

You bite your lip, eyes staying on Colby's for a few seconds. He leans in, inches away from your face, "What do you say, princess?"

You reach up, pulling Colby in to close the space. Your tongues dance together in a passionate motion before he leans back, "Atta girl."

"Now that we got that out of the way." Sam spins you towards him, cupping your cheeks before he plants his lips onto yours.

Your hands move to the sides of his neck, pushing your body against his. His hands slide down, gripping your waist, "I can wait my turn." He mumbles leaning back, "I wanna watch you and Colby make up."

He spins you around and Colby lifts you off the ground, your legs finding their way around his hips.

"Is that okay?" Colby asks as he walks over to the long couch.

"Is what okay?" You question and Colby chuckles, "That Sam watches me fuck you?"

You nod quickly, "But what about your party?"

Colby shakes his head and lays you down on the couch, "Fuck the party. We're having more fun in here."

You smirk and tilt your head as his lips connect to your neck, biting and marking up your skin with deep, purple marks.

You let out a moan, fluttering your eyes closed as you feel him grind against you through the thin layer of your panties, "Colby." You whimper, "Please."

He lifts his head, "Please what, princess?"

You grip the collar of his shirt, the one you bought for him, "I need you."

"All in good time, my love." He pecks your lips, reaching back to unhook your leg from around him, "I want to see what you've been withholding from me for all these years."

He grabs your hands, pulling you up so your back is now against the back part of the couch. He moves down to his knees, in between yours and his hands slide up your thighs.

You glance over at Sam who's intently watching the scene unfold.

You bite your lip, smirking slightly as you turn your head to look down at Colby. You lift your hips as his fingers hook in between your skin and the band.

He drags them down and you pull your one leg out, letting them hang off your high heel covered foot.

He lifts your legs onto his shoulder and you scoot down slightly, biting your lip as you anticipate his lips on your clit.

You tilt your head back, letting out a moan as he sucks and flicks his tongue over it, groaning against you as he tilts his head down to lick in between your folds.

"Fuck." Sam whispers off to the side.

You reach your arm out, lifting your head to look at him as your breathing quickens and you grip the cushion with your other hand.

Sam moves over, sitting down next to you. His arm goes over the back of the couch, behind your head and he grips your chin to plant his lips on yours.

He swallows your moans that are caused by Colby, "You look fucking beautiful like this."

You smirk against his lips, sliding one hand to the back of Colby's head and the other into Sam's hair.

You and Sam both look down at Colby.

You grip their hair, pulling as you pull Colby closer with your leg, "Fuck, Fuck, fuck." You arch your back, whimpering out as you feel so, so, so close.

Colby leans back, licking his lips before moving up and leaning against your body. His lips attach to yours and you groan at the taste of your pussy on his lips.

You turn your head, connecting your lips to Sam's and he groans, "Fuck, I can't wait to have my way with you."

You smirk, "Good thing I know where you live." He chuckles, nodding as he leans back. He gets up, returning to the place he was sitting in before you called him over.

"Lay on your stomach for me." Colby mumbles as he kisses your neck. You slide over, rolling onto your stomach and you lock eyes with Sam.

You feel Colby push your dress up to pool around your waist and you hear the clinking of Colby's belt being undone.

You look over your shoulder as Colby straddles your legs. His hands caress your ass and he brings one up to drop it down with a hard smack.

You whimper, dropping your head a little as you wait for him to do it to the other.

And he does, leaving matching handprints.

You gasp, whining out as you move your hips side to side, "Colby."

You feel him lean down, one hand on the back of the couch, the other guiding his cock go where you both want it to be most, "I'm getting there, princess."

You hear him chuckle and you bite down on your lip as you feel his cock glide between your folds and into where you both want him to be most.

You let out a moan, eyes rolling closed as you feel his hand slide up and over your shoulder to wrap his fingers around your neck, "That what you wanted baby?"

You nod slightly, opening your eyes, "Y-yes."

Your eyes meet Sam's, moaning from Colby's strokes of his cock, and everything is coming together, quite quickly actually.

You were cursing yourself, wanting to smack yourself around for not realizing how clear the answer to everything really was.

You were so blocked by the walls you built around yourself, and you were consumed by your own thoughts, you left yourself clueless to what they were trying to do.

It was all because I love them both, you think, smirking because you know that it's okay to.

You feel Colby's head rest against yours, his cock thrusting deep into your core, "mine." He groans lowly, "Ours."

"Yours." You breathe out, "So fucking yours."

"Tell him." Colby says lowly, a moan slipping from his lips, "let him hear you, princess."

Colby's grip tightens on your neck as he pulls your head up to look at Sam. Your eyes lock onto his and he tilts his head, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm yours." You whimper and Colby slides his hand around to grip your hair, pulling harshly, "Louder."

"Yours.. I'm.." you swallow, moaning loudly, "Yours!"

"That's our girl." Colby presses his lips to your temple before leaning up to withdrawal his cock from you, "Come here."

You roll over, sitting up and Colby's lips crash onto yours. His hands pull you onto him so you're straddling him.

His hand holds his cock steady and you sink down onto you, allowing him to swallow your moans.

His hands slide down to grip your ass, groaning as you grind your hips into his, "C-Colby." He slides a hand up, gripping the back of your neck as he presses his lips to yours.

Your hands slide up his chest, digging into his clothed shoulders as you moan against his lips, mind racing about what's in store for when you get back to their place.

I love them both, you think over and over again, they love me.

The thought alone was enough to get you off.

Colby's hands slide up to pull the top of your dress down, exposing your boobs. His hands inch up, gripping and kneading as you bounce up and down.

Your head falls back, moans escaping your lips as you're sucked into an orgasmic state.

Your walls squeeze Colby's cock as you lean forward, body melting into his as your hands tangle within his hair and pull to earn a groan.

His hands tighten on your waist and you feel him twitch inside you. He lets out a slight chuckle, "Sorry."

You relax onto him, letting out a sigh, "It's okay." You laugh slightly, "Nothing is stopping it from doing it again."

He slides his hands up your back, "You're right, well.. I mean there's one thing.. we should probably get back out there, people are probably looking for us."

"Is it bad I kind of forgot about that for a second?" You laugh leaning up to move off of him. You stand up, pulling your panties up and he shrugs, "I'd rather be with you, trust me. We both do."

Sam walks up, his arms sliding around to fix the top of your dress, "So does it all make sense now?" He laughs quietly and you look from him to Colby, "oh yeah. It's all crystal clear now."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I'm sorry if this is all over the place, I've been picking up writing it as much as I could. I've been sick the last couple of days and it's been rough.

As always, let me know how you liked it. Thank you so much for reading! Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[disdaidal]

Came across a dirty confessions blog and then their list of do-nots is just a bunch of stuff about what you can't be horny about, who you can't be horny about and what relationships you aren't allowed to be horny about. How boring.

[torvocomics]

ENGLISH: Free PDFs of “Hooo: Talk Dirty to Me” No.1 From episode 01 to episode 14.

ESPAÑOL: PDFs gratuito de “Hooo: Háblame Sucio” No.1 Del episodio 01 al episodio 14.

ENGLISH: Free PDFs of “Hooo: Talk Dirty to Me” No.2 From episode 15 to episode 29

ESPAÑOL: PDFs gratuito de “Hooo: Háblame Sucio” No.2 Del episodio 15 al episodio 29

[shesamonkey]

🇲🇽🇪🇸Le quedó bonito el video, mírenlo por favor.

🇬🇧🇺🇸Sorry, it's in Spanish, but I remind you that you can activate automatically translated subtitles.

by ShinyMavs - ManGallina

[drunkyriestuff]

the way I start giggling, twirling my hair and kicking my feet whenever Remus Lupin appears in a fic even as a side character.

he's just appeared for the first time and is described as "A rather good-looking man, with fluffy hair and big brown eyes." and when I tell you I immediately knew who the fucker was

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Hot for Hellcheer

Author: @spicysachii

Rating/Warning; Explicit

Chapter Count: 2/?

Description: a collection of one-shots dedicated to edissy/hellcheer

Tags: Collection of dirty one-shots, smut, fluff, enemies to friends to lovers, alternate universe- summer camp, falling in love, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: WIP

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 2 | Nora x Hancock

A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

-

Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

When Nora thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight. Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land. The hole was filled the moment it had been created. As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate; that some stranger had taken Nate's place.

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[ 1 ] - [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

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The moment the bullet entered Nate’s body, Nora had felt pain explode throughout the entirety of her being. The pain started in her chest, right where the bullet had entered Nate’s skin, and then it washed over her in a white-hot wave of anguish as her soulmate was ripped away. As a military spouse she had been forced to go through a number of classes designed to educate and prepare her for the potential loss of her soulmate. The sensation had been compared to being burned alive, and that didn’t include the vicious, yawning emptiness that came after. Nora had assumed that it was all a harsh exaggeration. It wasn’t.

In a couple of sparse seconds, which felt like an entire lifetime, Nora’s body was wracked with debilitating pain, the likes of which she had never experienced. And it was everywhere. She could feel it tearing at her innards, clawing through her brain, eviscerating her skin. When she thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight.

Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land.

The hole was filled the moment it had been created. For a moment, Nora thought that maybe, just maybe, Nate was still alive. But he wasn’t. He was dead, and yet something was filling the space - his space. It was a sensation unlike any other, starkly contrasting the pain she had felt just a moment before. Warmth; gentle, and consuming. Something like companionship, and fondness.

As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate. Having more than one soulmate was a true rarity. There had been more than a handful of news stories that had covered the topic when it presented itself. Those people had lost their other half, but were given another. They always seemed so elated, and happy, and thankful. Nora, despite her grief, was nearly enraged. She wasn’t given time to properly process what had even happened before some stranger was thrust into Nate’s spot.

So, for the days after she left the vault, Nora pretended that this new soulmate didn’t exist. As the man figured out how their bond actually worked, Nora was busy steadfastly pretending that he didn’t exist. She ignored the man’s ragged, rasping voice as he reached out to her through their newly forged bond. Instead of paying the stranger any mind, Nora dove head first into searching for the man who killed her husband and kidnapped her kid. It wasn’t easy. Her new soulmate was insistent, and Nora had absolutely no clue what she was doing.

After understanding how hostile this new world was Nora decided that she was better off sneaking around anyone, or anything, that could be perceived as a threat. This new world wasn’t for someone like her, so as angry as she was that her new soulmate wouldn’t just shut up and leave her alone, she held onto each bit of advice he gave her – and he had a lot of advice to offer.

She pretended not to hear him when he told her that she needed to find a firearm, but when she found an ancient pistol she opted to hang on to it. Nate had been persistent in teaching her firearm basics, but she had always been a lousy shot. Better to have it than to not, though.

An old wooden baseball bat made it into her arsenal after he had mentioned that she needed to be mindful of her ammo consumption. Nate had taught her some self defense moves, and while he swore up and down that she could throw a mean right hook, she knew she wasn’t skilled enough to take someone down if she had to. The baseball bat would help.

She didn’t think to check computers before the voice mentioned trying to hack into one that was still on. He told her the command to type in and she committed it to memory, but she still went out of her way to pretend that she found the information on a scrap of paper.

She didn’t think to hoard bobby pins until he asked if she had any when she encountered her first locked door. Before she had a secure place to put them she started to thread them into her hair, or on the cuffs of her jumpsuit. She acquired a flathead screwdriver not long after.

Progress in finding her son was slow and, honestly, nonexistent. Eleanor Morrison had tackled everything in her life with unfaltering tenacity, and a breathtaking amount of stubbornness but neither of those things could have prepared her for just how unprepared she was to tackle the apocalypse. A few days in and she was having to pump the breaks. She needed to slow down, learn, acclimate, and make sure that she was ready for whatever was thrown at her.

“Yer doin' that wrong, ya know.” The awful, ragged, sandpaper voice was gently teasing.

Nora resisted the urge to respond. It was dark, and she decided to hunker down in an abandoned house that still held some of its structural integrity. She had slipped in through a broken window, and managed to do so without sustaining any injuries from the lingering glass. Locking herself in one of the home’s upstairs rooms, she pulled a small tool box from her backpack. Though she didn’t know what was inside, Nora had decided to take the little box with her for the sake of getting in some lock picking practice. With her back to the wall and her Pip-Boy lighting the room, Nora made herself comfortable before getting to work. The bobby pin slid into the lock – only to have that man’s damn voice filling her head and interrupting her thoughts. There was no getting rid of him, not even temporarily. The bond had to be stronger for that sort of thing. Until then, he could look in on her whenever he pleased.

“Y'have the wrong end of the pin in the lock, sweetheart,” he insisted.

The guy was persistent in his use of endearments; Nora hated it. She couldn’t blame him for their rampant use, though. While he had offered up his name several times, Nora had yet to give him hers. So it was “sweetheart”, “baby”, “doll”, and she might have thought it cute if she wasn’t doing her absolute best to hate him.

She faked trying to unlock the box for a moment or two before removing the pin. After making a point of examining the pin, she turned it around and slid the correct end into the lock.

“That’s my girl.”

Nora seethed. At least he couldn’t read her thoughts. If she wasn’t careful he would be able to pick up on her emotions, though. She took a calming breath. He wasn’t there. He didn’t exist. She willed him away but she couldn’t get him out of her head. Even after years of marriage, Nora had barely been able to push Nate away. With some high-tech equipment and a bit of training, Nate had been capable of completely blocking Nora from accessing their bond at all. Deployed personnel wouldn’t be much use if they were letting themselves get distracted by their soulmates while out in the field. Maybe some of that tech still existed. Nora wondered how much it would set her back. It had been pricey back then – she wondered how much it would be now.

“Now gently jiggle the—“

Nora’s gaze suddenly tore to the bedroom door.

“What?”

To make a point, Nora lurched forward and pressed her ear to the bedroom door. Thankfully, she didn’t have to audibly tell the man to shut up when the voices continued to drift around the empty spaces of the house. Two voices – maybe three? Nora closed her eyes tight and listened. Definitely three. Cursing softly, she shifted to grab her pistol.

“Sweetheart, get outta there.”

Shut up, she wanted to say. Just shut up.

The voices stayed somewhat distant, the occasional bump and thud of noise making her flinch as she frantically put together some kind of plan. The room had a window, it was boarded up but the wood looked splintered and fragile. With a little bit of force, she might be able to pull the board free. Keeping her pistol handy, she gathered up her things and shouldered the familiar weight. Slowly, so slowly, she stepped towards the window.

The floor creaked under her weight and she froze all together, a cold sweat building on her forehead.

Shit.

The voices quieted, and Nora grit her teeth.

“Please – please get out of there. Now!”

“Shut up!“ she hissed between clenched teeth, her body lurching towards the window as she heard footsteps clambering up the stairs. Using more strength than was actually required, the board broke away from the windowsill just as the doorknob began to jiggle.

The intruders were yelling, tearing at the door, at the walls, trying to get at her because that was the world she lived in now. People were desperate and they were violent. If they didn’t murder her, they might rape her. They might keep her as a slave. This place, this world, was hell. She was slipping out the destroyed window and onto the roof just as there was a crack of noise and the door bowed inward.

Meanwhile, the man at the other end of the bond was feeding her instructions, ”Hurry, get away from the window. Find a way down – there was a garage, right? Go to the garage.”

Nora followed the instructions, shuffling along the dangerously slanted roof towards the side of the house the garage was on. The garage was separate from the house, and the structure was shorter. The garage was only a couple feet away; she’d have to make a jump for it.

”Jump – hurry!”

Nora hesitated, gauging the distance – and that’s where everything went to shit. In the midst of her uncertainty her assailants were able to get the drop on her. Gunfire tore through the quiet night, echoing over the sound of her rushing blood and pounding heart and rambling soulmate. The bullet tore into her shoulder, and Nora screamed before she pitched her body forward.

“Fuck!”

It wasn’t leap that she really needed. Her foot caught the rain gutter that lined the garage and her weight tore it from the rotting structure. She flopped forward. Nora’s arms shot out to grasp at the remaining shingles, but it was no use. She was hurt, and she was panicked – and she fell to the ground in a heap. The backpack did very little to cushion her fall. That damn toolbox she had been so set on keeping drove into her spine with breathtaking force. Using all of her strength she rolled herself to her hands and knees, then hauled herself to her feet.

Then she made a mad dash into the night. Bullets whizzed by, kicking up dirt and pebbles as they slammed into the ground around her.

“Keep goin’. Don’t stop.”

She didn’t need him to tell her that.

Nora ran. She ran until she could barely breathe, and then she ran a minute more. Eventually, she collapsed in the debris of an old building, tucking herself into an alcove of wood, metal, and concrete. Shivering, and gasping, she collapsed onto her knees. After a moment of rest she tied a swatch of old cloth around her shoulder to hopefully staunch the blood flow. Teary and shaking, she searched her bag for her med kit. There were some pain meds in there – or she hoped there was.

“Tell me where you are. I will come get you.”

There was a bottle of pills, but she didn’t know what type of pills they were. She didn’t want to chance turning on her light to read the label. She shook the pills into her palm anyway, the capsules nearly shaking right out of her hand.

“Please. Let me come get you. Yer gonna need stitches. Just let me look at yer Pip-Boy, I will be there in a few hours,” He sounded desperate, his voice soft and shaky.

The man must have felt her pain. He probably felt the gunshot, and he likely felt the rush of falling from the roof, as well as the impact. This sort of thing happened – and it would keep happening until the bond was stronger. Until then, he would experience whatever intense sensations she experienced when he was accessing their bond.

The pills were tossed into her mouth and she swallowed them dry. The bullet needed to be removed but she would need light to do that – and she refused to give away her position. It could wait until morning.

“Baby, please.”

Nora shifted, sinking back further into her hiding place. As she pressed her cheek to cold cement, she pretended that she was home, and safe.

“I am begging you to tell me where you are. I can take care of ya – just—“

Her eyelids drooped, and that awful voice faded away.

[helianyx]

the character in your banner is very cool and is giving me gender envy, who are they, i must know them

oh gosh, you and me both! 🤝 that's actually my OC, Mana! Her appearance was originally based on Djeeta from Granblue Fantasy before she spun into an OC, and the art there was commissioned by AoClover from twitter of her in Final Fantasy XIV.

She is the love of my life and heals me sm (and though she uses primarily she/her she is nb and OK with any pronouns). (I have a whole sideblog dedicated to her + her aesthetic over here and her ff14 tag is here - tho warning for some occasional nsfw) but thank you very much please know that she loves you and would make you delicious baked treats <3<3<3