#Barley x you

[velvetchrry]

━━━━ THISTLE AND BARLEY

pairing: johnny “soap” mactavish x f!reader

2.7k. during a solo trip to the scottish highlands, you find yourself transported back in time.

The chill of the evening air prickles along your skin. The spring breeze envelopes you, circling her prey. You are a rabbit, and she is a fox. She waits, patiently, until you are unsuspecting, and then sinks her sharp teeth into your soft skin.

It seems like you are the only one to really feel the chill — but you are an outsider. An outlander. A stranger. There are a few other foreigners here like you, but mostly it’s the residents of Inverness.

You get some relief when passing by one of the many bonfires littered through this valley. The entire night sky was alight — but not with stars. No, those are almost impossible to see compared to last night. There are enough fires lit in the valley to cause light pollution to seep through to the night sky.

Everyone here is clothed in a flowy, bohemian white gown. A beautiful crown of flowers rests atop your heads. Beltane. The official start to summer.

You didn’t know you would be here tonight until the last minute. The hostess of your bed and breakfast was the one who mentioned it to you this morning. It’s your last night in the Highlands so you figured, why not? Your solo travel adventures are about to come to an end. What’s one more night with no sleep?

A lit cave sparks your interest. It’s small, basically just an opening that goes 8 feet or so, but it’s lit up with candles everywhere. They're arranged in some sort of pattern, but you can’t make out exactly what it’s supposed to be. The air in here is even colder somehow — settling in your bones. You cover your upper body with your arms as best you can, unable to stop yourself from entering this ethereal place.

When you get closer to the wall, you see it has something painted on it. The paint is hard to see, even with the candle light. The same pattern is marked on the cave wall that the candles make on the floor. It’s old, flaking. You let out a breath and you watch as it rises in front of you.

The wall is shifting. Shimmering. It looks celestial. Like the night sky. You rub your eyes. It must be the heat from all the candles.

You turn around to leave but are startled by the sight of a woman at the entrance. You recognize her — it’s the owner of your bed and breakfast. A greeting almost escapes your lips but when you catch the look on her face you can’t seem to speak. Mouth hanging open, you just stare at her. She glides to you effortlessly, lithe for her age. Her fingertips are black as they reach out to you. It happens in slow motion. At least, that’s how it feels. She slowly reaches out to touch you and you stumble back, almost into the wall, just out of range.

“Yer where yer meant to be lass. Remember that. You have to remember. This was destined for ya.”

You shake your head to try and get a grasp on what she’s saying to you. Your tongue is suddenly heavy in your mouth. “Wh.. what?”

“Goodbye, lass.”

Before you can open your mouth to speak, she pushes against your shoulder with a firm hand. You stumble, and brace for impact into the cave wall.

Falling. You’re falling. It’s black.

There is no cave wall.

“D’ya think she’s a witch?”

It's morning, that much you can tell. Birdsong flits down to your ears and the sun is bright against your closed eyes. The grass caresses your body.

“Dinnae think so. Not sure what to make of ‘er.”

You try to remember what happened last. How you got here. Where you are. You brain is fuzzy, feeling like you’re suffering from a hangover. Wait — that’s not right, you didn’t drink last night.

“Let’s just leave her.”

Beltane. The celebration. That’s where you were. In the valley near Inverness. You were wandering. There were fires. Dancing.

“No. We’ll bring her to the castle.”

The cave. Oh god, the lady from your bed and breakfast. She followed you, she pushed you. She said something to you. What did she say to you?

“Yer off yer fuckin’ head, boy. What’ll yer Da say?”

You have to get out of here. You are supposed to be out of here. Your flight out of Inverness leaves this morning. How did this happen?

“I cannae just leave her here.”

Sunlight floods your eyes when they shoot open. A groan escapes you, and you cover your head with your forearm. You struggle to fully sit up, headache assaulting all of your senses.

“Aye, lassie? Ye hearin’ me?”

You rub your eyes and look up to who’s speaking to you. It’s a man in his late 20s. He’s wearing a kilt and it isn’t until you look around that you notice almost all of them are. You saw a few men in Inverness wearing kilts but, not quite like this. They look like an authentic historical recreation.

He’s… handsome. The one talking to you. Pools of blue eyes stare into yours, a hand reaching out to you. You gingerly take it, and he helps you stand. “Ye got a name, hen?”

Still in a bit of a daze, you give him your name and take a second to get your bearings. The cave you remember from last night is just behind you — but there are no candles, or paint on the walls. There’s no evidence anyone was in this valley last night. Where are the pits and scorch marks from the bonfires? What about the string lights that were strung along the tree trunks? Even the grass doesn't look like it’s been trampled on by a hundred or so pairs of feet.

“I’m Johnny of Clan MacTavish. May I ask, what’re ye doin’ out here hen?”

You swallow thickly. “I.. erm.. it’s Beltane. The party?”

“A druid.” The tallest one says. He’s one of the ones not in a kilt and has a deep British accent.

“Ah,” Johnny’s face lights up in understanding. “And yer out here alone?”

“I… uh…” you stutter. You’re not sure what’s happening. They really don't know about the party? Most of them look like and sound locals. “I guess… I am?”

“Where ya from?” one of them asks. He’s got a stout build and a thick set of facial hair.

“Well, I’m an American… I’m just… just traveling…”

You pause when you notice their interests peak.

“Which colony ye fae?” someone asks.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “Colony?”

“She’s a British spy!” another shouts. You flinch.

“Ah, she’s no bloody spy. Look at her,” the tall one from earlier says. “Aye, we never had any spies like her before,” the stout one agrees, coming up to Johnny’s side.

Johnny hums. “I cannae leave you out here to fend on your own, spy or no. Can we take ye somewhere?”

You pause for a moment before speaking. “Inverness?”

Johnny nods and his men grumble, but go back to their horses. He motions for you to follow. You watch as he struggles to get up, wincing in pain and almost falling. The tall one comes up behind you and grabs you by the hips — lifting you ontop of Johnny’s horse and causing you to yelp. “Up ya go.”

Your body goes rigid as Johnny reaches around you to grab the reins. “Ain’t gonna hurt ye, hen,” he murmurs. He kicks the horse into gear and you’re off, still wondering what’s happening to you.

Maybe someone is filming a movie nearby.

You don’t have much of anything to hold onto, so you keep your legs clenched, body stiffened. Johnny notices this, wrapping his big arm around your waist for support. The group keeps a brisk pace, chatting with one another about things you’re unfamiliar with.

Panic starts to seep in when you see the River Ness, which bysects the city. “Where are we? Where’s the city? It should be visible by now.”

“Yer looking straight at it.”

Your breathing picks up rapidly and you try to focus on not hyperventilating. This was not the Inverness you had been in just yesterday.

“No…,” your voice is a soft whisper. “No, no, no… this can’t be right.”

The horse comes to a stop as Johnny tugs on the reins. “What is it, lass?”

The men start to grumble around you as the rest of the group comes to a stop. “Where’s the city? The buildings? Where’s the airport? This is… this isn’t right.”

“I dinnae ken what yer talking about hen but… that’s Inverness up ahead,” Johnny says softly to you.

“I… I don’t…” you stutter.

“Aye, what's goin’ on? Why are we stoppin’?” someone shouts out.

Johnny shoots him a look and walks his horse a little ways up to give you two a bit more privacy. Tears start to well in your eyes, and your nose has that familiar prickle like it’s gonna start running. You’re afraid to ask, but you have to know. “What year is it?”

If Johnny is confused why you’re asking, he doesn't show it. He speaks in a matter of fact tone when he says, “1724.”

No… how could this happen? You can just jump back in time 300 years… this is impossible. This can’t be real… this can’t be. But you saw — you saw right where Inverness is supposed to be. You recognized the landmarks. And it’s just… not right.

“Do ye still want to go to Inverness, hen?”

What are you going to do? There’s no aiport, hell — the America you’d go back to wouldn’t be the same. And what, do you hop on a boat for months and go back to a different world?

“I… I…” You suck in a shaky breath. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” you finally admit.

“I’ll take ye to the Castle,” Johnny states confidently. “Give ya a chance to figure out where yer going.”

A single tear slips down your cheek. Johnny calls out to the group that you’re headed to the Castle and you tune out the cries of them asking why the hell you were going with instead dumping you in Inverness.

The Scottish countryside passes by in a teary-eyed blur. It’s like you blinked and suddenly night is falling, the sun almost completely dipped below the horizon. Your stomach aches with hunger. You’re in an unfamiliar area, surrounded on all sides by trees. Johnny slows his horse, and the rest of his party follows suit. The tall one from earlier glides off his horse with ease and walks over to pick you up off of Johnny’s horse. You watch in a daze as he also gives Johnny a hand, as he struggles to get off his horse.

You look up at him after he is back on the ground. His white shirt seeps red near his bicep. You're not sure how you didn't notice it before. It’s got a brownish tinge to it now.

“You’re hurt.”

He waves you off. “Ach, jus’ a scratch, bonnie.”

He doesn’t stop you, just observes as you walk over to his side. You gently pry back the sticky fabric of his shirt. There’s a decent sized gash through his arm, red and angry. It looks like the start of an infection; like it might need stitches.

“It's not just a scratch if you need help on and off your horse. Did you clean this after it happened?”

“Clean it?” he tilts his head slightly as he asks.

“Like, rinse it? With water, at least?”

He shakes his head no.

You bite your lip as you contemplate. “Does… er… does anyone have any alcohol?”

Some of the guys burst into laughter. One hands you a flask. “Dinnae think you’d be one to get pished, lassie!” he exclaims.

You ignore him and get to work, ripping the bottom of your flimsy white dress. It tears easily under your fingers. You push it into Johnny’s hands and he holds onto the fabric unquestioningly while you uncork the flask with your teeth and again peel back his shirt.

“This is gonna sting a little,” you admit quietly.

He winces and grunts as you pour the alcohol down his arm, the men breaking out into cries of protest at the loss of booze. You place the cork back in the bottle and drop it on the ground. The man who gave you the flask quickly swipes it away from you before you can waste anymore.

Johnny places the ripped fabric of your dress in your outstretched hands. You tie it tightly around his arm, and while he grimaces, he doesn’t complain. You give him a gentle pat on the shoulder when you’re done.

“You’re probably gonna need stitches, but that should hold you over for a bit. Hopefully it’s not infected, or you're gonna need something stronger than alcohol.”

A voice from directly behind you makes you jump out of your skin. “Told ya she was a druid,” the tall one says.

“Aye,” Johnny agrees. “We could use someone with yer skills at the Castle. Our druid can’t…. well she ain’t as nimble as she used ta be.”

You aren’t sure what to say to that so you watch silently as the boys set up camp for the evening. “We’ll reach home come morning,” Johnny tells you at one point. The sun is gone now, the temperature dropping rapidly. The Beltane gown provides no heat and you scoot as close to the fire as you can without singeing off your eyebrows. You ditched your flower crown long ago.

The tall one hands you some food and you eat quietly while the rest of them chat around you. The stout one from earlier and the tall one sit next to each other and observe you, talking lowly to themselves. You try your best to ignore them.

Johnny walks over and sits next to you. “You should get some sleep, hen.” He’s close enough to you that his kilt brushes against your leg.

You swallow thickly and gnaw on your lip. You nod your head in agreement but you’re not sure if you’ll be able to sleep tonight. The reality is, these men are strangers in a strange time — even if one of them has been showing you kindness.

Johnny moves even closer to you and you can’t help but tense up. He's maneuvering his kilt around, tugging on the end of it.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting my plaid loose. Cannae let ye sleep in just that shift. You’ll freeze.”

You cross your arms, trying to keep in more warmth. “I’ll be fine.”

He covers your shoulders and instantly you feel warmer. A scent of musk and pine surrounds you, earthy and male. He opens his arm to you, waiting for you to lean against him.

“I meant what I said bonnie, I won’t hurt ye. I’m just keeping warm. Yer teeth chattering is making my bones rattle in my head.”

You can’t help the small chuckle that you produce hearing him tease you a little bit. It serves to make you feel even more comfortable around him. You nod and move in further under the plaid, while he wraps his good arm around you and rubs up and down your arm.

“Yer frozen solid,” he murmurs. “Why ye out here in just a shift anyway?”

“It was… uh… apart of the festival.”

He hums in response, still rubbing you arm up and down, up and down. You find a comfortable silence, leaning against him and listening to the conversations around you. Johnny adds his two cents every so often but mostly just sits beside you quietly.

You can feel your eyelids start to get droopy, your head nodding off every so often, but you fight it. You fight the urge to fall asleep. It’s so much harder now that you're warm. So hard when you’re feeling a small bit of comfort from the touch you're receiving.

You don’t even realize your head is on Johnny’s shoulder right away. You start to sit up, but he grips you a little more firmly to his side.

“Sleep, lassie. Yer safe with me.”

[enderariess]

no hate to nsfw blogs, do as you please and what you feel comfortable with! but I’m tired of going through the jjk x reader tags and it’s nothing but smut even after you scroll for ages, especially when it’s with the minors and you 20+… maybe it’s just my stuff acting up but geez 😭

[divinelolita]

What's up bbg?Can you do a fanfic with 2000s kaulitz twins were bill and Tom are at a meet and greet and there celebrity crush scene forever shows up to the meet and greet to get one of there albums signed and both Tom and bill are are shocked and speechless that M/N is a fan.

KAULITZ TWINS X CELEB READER: MEET AND GREET

hii my beautiful amazing angelic gorgeous wife 😇 erm we are still married so i have the right to call you that ANYWAYS uh if it's bad no it's not

"Jesus fuck how much longer..."

Tom groaned, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he finished signing another girls album, hands starting to cramp. Bill only giggled, cracking his knuckles as he looked over at his brother. "I mean we are here for another.." Bill looked over at the black and white clock hanging onto the wall, "...Hour?" Bill laughed as he watched Toms jaw drop, his eyes that were once nearly closed to exhaustion grow wide like saucers. "ANOTHER hour?! Oh my god...." he complained, whining like a spoiled child as he hit his hand down on the table in frustration, pulling away with a soft 'ow'.

Bill watched as Georg's mouth curled up in a smirk as he watched Tom's mini-tantrum. He could hear he soft snickering of Gustav as he signed another boys album, giving a small "You're welcome!" as the boy walked off. Bill really didn't blame Tom, as his fingers were starting to hurt and he was sweating like a motherfucker. Seriously, sometimes he regretted wearing so much clothing. If only he could take a cold shower, put on a pair or sweatpants and tanktop, sitting in his AC filled house...

"Hi, Bill!" a girl squeaked, making him jump slightly and apologize as he took his pen with trembling hands and signed away. She smiled as she looked down, her teeth so white Bill had to blink due to the glare. "Thanks!" she said, skipping away to go to her brother-or sister. Bill smiled, giving a small wave, before sluming back into his seat.

Tom guffawed, looking down at his younger brother. "Sit back up. We have another 45 minutes to go." Bill winced as he felt a small but firm slap on his shoulder, reluctantly sitting back up and propping himself in his elbows. Tom cleared his throat as a pretty girl came up to him with another album, his handwriting slightly off and a bit sloppy. He looked back at the clock. 42 minutes left. Yes, this was going to be a longggg time.

---

To say Bill's hands were hurting was a huge understandment. He could barely flex his fingers, that damn pen was starting to hurt everytime he held it. He found himself looking up at the clock after every person left, only finding it made time go by slower. Each second felt like a minute, each minute felt like an hour. Really, he just wanted to go back to the tour bus and sleep. It was times like these when he wondered what it would be like if he didn't sing 'It's Raining Men' or if he didn't become famous.

What would his job be? Maybe a fashion designer, or perhaps a teacher? Maybe a manager of some company?

He jumped slightly as Georg pushed him in the shoulder, a brown eyebrow quirked up. "Bill, what's wrong man? You look ill." Georg attempted to put the back of his hand to Bills forehead, but Bill swatted his hand away with a small laugh. "No, no I'm fine. Just uh..a bit tired is all." Georg hummed in agreement, cursing to himself under his breath as somebody walked up to him. He forced a small smile as the boy asked him a few questions, giving Georg a small album to sign aswell.

Tom smacked his lips together as he finished yet another. He looked up to the clock and couldn't help but let out a triumphant laugh as he saw they were down to 15 minutes. Gustav looked in his direction, clapping his hands a few times as he smiled. At this point, Tom couldn't even make out his own signature he gave out. He wasn't even checking out the girls as they walked away from him. He was never like this, never so tired he could barley keep sitting. He turned towards Bill in his seat, pushing a piece of hair behind his hair. He saw how tired Bill looked, how even with all the black eyeshadow that could mess with Tom's vision his brother still had eyebags, turning the pale skin gray under his eyes.

Bill and Tom groaned quietly in union as they saw somebody else come up to them, they turned back around, about to give a soft smile or "Hi!" to the person, but their mouths dropped. A boy with (colored) hair and an album tucked under his arm greeted them before they could, the twins having to blink a few times as their hearts heated faster. No.. It couldn't be him..although with that clothing, that hair, those eyes, and oh FUCK it was M/N. M/N L/N.

"Hi Bill, Tom," he greeted, smiling softly as he placed the album infront of them, " I've been waiting to get an album signed! Lines pretty crazy." He chuckled, a warm and cheery sound that instantly got rid of any anxiety the twins may have had.

Bill took him out his pen quickly as Tom fixed his posture, his face red. M/N watched as Bill signed his name in the corner, how his fingers were trembling and how slow and careful he was being. Tom signed in the other corner, actually holding the pen in a tight fist as he tried to write the best signature he could at the moment. "I uhh..You're M/N right?" OH STUPID STUPID TOM! He wanted to kill himself right there and then, what a dumb question!

But the gorgeous boy infront of them didn't laugh, didn't walk away. No. He stood there with a bright smile, laughing a bit. "Really? What makes you think that?" he teased, cocking his head to the side. Bill cleared his throat, feeling his palms get sweaty. "It's nice to meet you! I'm...Tom and I are big fans." Bill blabbered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he gave a nervous smile. Dear Lord, Tom felt his knees buckle as M/N's face brightened, his smile widening. "Oh? Really?"

The twins nodded, not being able to form words currently. M/N laughed quietly, "Ah, how nice. You both did well tonight! Seriously Tom, I wish I could play guitar!.." (if you do no you don't) "..and your voice never fails to amaze me, Bill.." Tom and Bill could only let out soft 'thank you's', faces flushed with red and pink as they suddenly started to feel the air around them go up by a measly.. 100 degrees.

M/N held out his hands for the boys to shake, their hands feeling clammy and jittery as they held onto their crushes hand, almost sad and disappointed to see him go. M/N grabbed the album left on the table, giving a sad smile. "Hmm.. I have to get going now. It was nice meeting you!" he grinned as he waved, turning around and going out the door. "Bye..!" Tom and Bil said together, smiling as they waved. Their legs felt like jello, regardless of sitting down, and their hearts were beating so fast they could've popped out of their chest.

YES! They were done. Such a good day..a good concert, and a great ending!

"Hi, Tom!"

A girl said, holding out another album for the boy to sign. Bill held back a laugh as Tom sighed to himself before giving a forced smile, grabbing the pen as he bent over to give his signature.

Well...almost done.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Can you do a barley x reader fic where the reader calls him “Barrel” as a nickname? Not even to tease or be mean, that’s just what they call him? And trader just fuckin LOVES him and loves cuddling him because mans is perfect for cuddling.

A/N: Thank you for this request!! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I'm a bit of a slow writer and had some things going on, but here it finally is! I made it a gn!reader haha I hope you'll like it ahberhfber-

Snowy day

Please reblog this post to show support! Reblogs are what keep me going!

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It was too early in the morning to be your alarm and classes had been dismissed, but just from the ringtone, you could already tell who was calling.

Opening your eyes with a groan, you reached a hand out of your blankets and grabbed the flat screen on your nightstand, before looking at it with your eyes still half-closed. You blinked as your finger slid on the answering button under the name of Barrel Adventurer of Tomfooleries.

You brought your phone close to your ear as you groaned an interrogative "Yes?" with a morning voice.

This whole nickname thing has started dumbly, really. It went back to when Barley and you were only friends: one time, your tongue went astray, and the two of you had laughed so hard about it that it stuck around.

It was still fun - even though you didn't even need to see the contact name on your screen anymore since he has his own special ringtone, it didn't stop you from calling him that, on a daily basis. Maybe just a bit embarrassing to explain to strangers and friends. But who didn't enjoy some little banters here and there?

"Hello, beautiful thief." You heard from the other side of the line. For a second, your eyebrows furrowed in half-asleep confusion at the strange nickname, before you remembered.

Oh, yeah. This.

You forgot this cute idiot liked to call you by the class of your Quest of Yore's character.

"Do you have anything planned for today?" Barley spoke again.

You looked by the window of your bedroom. Snow was falling abundantly - the reason why classes had been dismissed for the entire day - and the whole neighborhood was already covered white.

"Uh... Not really?" You answered as you finally sat up in your bed correctly. "It's snowing too much to do anything anyway."

As you finished this last sentence, you felt a small chill on your arms because of the coldness outside of your blankets. If your bedroom felt that cold, you couldn't imagine how much colder it must have been outside. Yeah, today was definitely going to be an in-house day.

"Anything? Really? You're underestimating me I think." he spoke playfully, making you giggle a bit at his jest.

"I'm not!" There were still a bit of a laugh in your voice as you answered him. "But I'm begging you not to go out right now for some sort of adventures. You're going to catch a cold."

You heard him laugh in amusement at your warning, before he reassured you. "I didn't plan on going outside, actually."

Exaggerating a sigh of relief, you made him chuckle a bit, and he continued joyfully. "I was more thinking about... Coming to your house? Would it be too far to go in your opinion?"

"Too far?" You answered with slight disbelief, cracking an amused smile at his jests. "Barrel you're literally calling me when I live just next door!"

His laugh resonated again from the other side of the line and made an endeared expression grow on your face. No matter how many time you heard it, you could never get tired of his laugh.

"Well, you got me! Does that mean I can come over?"

"Uh..." Looking around the room for a second, you were still in your sleepwear, and you didn't even got up yet. You didn't really want to welcome him like that.

"Give me 10 minutes, okay?"

You could practically hear him smile.

"Okay, will be there in 10. Be prepared! Love you."

In his eagerness, the elf barely gave you the time to answer with an endeared smile and a soft "Love you too!" before he hung up and left you to a sped-up version of your morning routine.

Of course, Barley kept his promise: precisely 10 minutes and 3 seconds after he had hung up the phone, he was ringing your doorbell almost impatiently. You suspected he had been waiting at your door for a couple of minutes now, just to make sure he'd be on-time, and the thought drew an amused smile to your lips.

Swinging the door open, you welcomed him as his face lit up at your sight. "Hey Barrel!"

He didn't even pick up the nickname, instead moving forward into the house and close to you, planting a kiss on your forehead as he took away his coat. "Hi again, beautiful."

The jacket was left in the corridor while you smiled in endearment at the sweet gesture, and only a couple of minutes later, you were both cuddled into the sofa of your living room.

"Is there anything specific you want to see?" You asked, looking up at him from the place on his chest that you were resting your head on, while the young elf was pointing the remote toward your TV's screen and looking through the available programs.

Humming, Barley wrapped his free arm tighter around your back, his hand resting on your own arm. He continued to look at different movies as he answered you. "Not really, I was hopping you'd have some suggestions for us."

You couldn't really tell why, but the simple thought that he had come over without anything to do, just to be by your side, brought a delighted grin to your lips. You couldn't even stop your cheeks from warming up as you looked at him again. You knew he loved you - it wasn't a secret to anyone, really. He was making it incredibly obvious, on an almost daily basis. But still, each and every one of his sweet little gestures made your eyes sparkle and your heart race, turning you into an absolute love-struck idiot every time.

"What's going on?"

You blinked as you realized he was looking toward you, his expression half-way between interrogative and amused as he raised a brow at your staring. Surprised at first, your expression quickly came back to one of pure affection as you smiled at him, and answered:

"Nothing, I just think you're beautiful."

Barley melted at your words, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks the same way it did every time you graced him with one of your sweet compliments. He simply couldn't stop himself from falling further in love with you, as he cuddled you against his chest and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"And you're the most magnificent person I've ever seen, sweetheart."

[penvisions]

buckles and barley {new series masterlist}

Fandom: Kingsmen - The Golden Circle

Pairing: Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranchhand! Reader

Summary: You seek out a secluded ranch outside the city limits at the behest of your ill father. In search of one of his old friends he had lost contact with after returning from a deployment and a catastrophic fallout. But instead you find the charming, dedicated, and rather handsome son of the man who had already passed, Jack Daniels. A night of bonding over the iron wills of your fathers and you find yourself falling into bed with him, only to be called away by the hospital that your father had been rushed too.

Devastated but free from the ties of your former life, you return to the ranch a changed woman. With the help of a man who holds his own grief, you learn how to tend to the horses and maintain the land. Together, you dance around each other as the seasons change. Cultivating a life that you never envisioned for yourself.

Wordcount: undetermined

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, death of a loved one, strained family dynamics, grief, implied verbal abuse, implied anger issues, allusions to past relationships, reader finds herself, reader takes control of her life, minor injuries, accident prone reader, allusions to infidelity, miscommunication, pining, mutual pining, protective jack, adult content, sexual content, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), more to be added as the story develops!

A/N: excited to delve into this once {by the grit of sandpaper} is concluded. will be doing a little bit of a different approach with this one, it's a new pedro character for me and i wanted to try writing a majority of this one before i begin posting to help establish a solid posting schedule!

ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi

sneakie peek || fic teaser || chapter one header

[ellabsbb]

imagine being with both abby and ellie and making them kiss even though they hate eachother ksbdjsnsj. thinking things..

[barleyo]

there isn't enough goth guy porn.... like no, i want to see a man all dolled up in white foundation and heavy black makeup... and i want to see him FUCK NASTY STYLE right now!!!! goth man jerking it by himself for 12 minutes while siouxsie and the banshees plays loudly in the back :3

[rodolfoparras]

Remedial Work

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Trans Male Reader

Wc: Ca 2k

Synopsis: There seems to be a consensus among your classmates at the police academy that you and Leon don’t get along. However, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Content warning: 18+, MINORS DNI, depiction of unhealthy relationships (Leon’s a bit of a bully), ooc, non canon compliant (ish?), oral fixation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (implied) dacryphilia, boot grinding kink, degradation, sub! Leon, hard dom!reader (ish?), use of strap on, blow job, deep throating, no aftercare

A/N: The usual disclaimer: English isn’t my first language so excuse any grammatically incorrect sentences, spelling mistakes, ooc, plot holes… heads up for long sentences as well, who needs proper structure anyway.

Drabble/ one shot/ part of a series:

Failure was a part of life, especially when attending the police academy. One was bound to fail something while attending the academy and remedial work was always around the corner for those who wanted and needed it. That’s at least what you tried to tell yourself but unfortunately not everyone shared the sentiment. 

You along with your team at the police academy had failed an assignment and had therefore been encouraged to do remedial work in the upcoming week. And although your classmates had done their fair share of whining and complaining, no one seemed to be as frustrated as Leon Kennedy. 

You’ve long been dismissed and you just wanted to go to your dorm and forget about this disastrous assignment but Leon wasn’t having any of it. 

“Three times! Three times in one fucking day!” Leon hisses through gritted teeth, three fingers waving around in the air furiously. 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it, Leon” One of your classmates say and puts a hand on Leon’s shoulder, only to have him jerk away.

“Doesn’t matter now does it?” Leon says as he gets all up in your face, hands pushing relentlessly at your chest until you end up with your back pressed up against a wall, and with no way to escape his seething rage.

All of a sudden his hands grab onto the collar of your shirt, pulling you so far up, you end up on your tiptoes “Maybe you shouldn’t be here if you don’t think you can handle it”

“That’s enough, Leon!” says another classmate, and grabs at his shoulder to pull him away but Leon doesn’t  budge an inch.  

“You’re so fucking lucky we get to do remedial work on this” he says, letting go off your collar with a harsh shove before leaving for his dorm.

He stands at your door with his arms crossed, gaze locked on the bedroom floor as he says his apologies and reasonings for his behavior.

You however don’t acknowledge him, acting as if he isn’t even here as you continue to work on the report you have to hand in (an unfortunate outcome from the failed assignment).

Apologies and reasonings are soon replaced with sniffles and whimpers as Leon’s looming form goes down on his hands and knees, landing with a soft thud to the floor before crawling over to your feet

Once again, you don’t  acknowledge him, even with him at your feet, hands hovering over your thighs and his hot breath hitting your knees.

He doesn’t dare do anything at first knowing he has to get your permission first. You just sigh heavily as if annoyed with him, but drop the pen you were holding and sneak a hand under your desk to grab at the curls that had formed at the back of Leon's neck before pulling his mouth onto your dick. 

He lands face first, hands crawling at your thighs as mutters of “thank you sir “ falls from his lips. He unbuckles your belt before taking your cock out of your boxers and wraps his lips around the tip.

Soon enough another round of apologies along with reasonings can be heard from the man below your feet, as he pathetically suckles on your dick.

“I didn’t mean it” he says with his lips wrapped around your dick, obscene squelching sounds coming through his mouth as he tries to speak.

Of course he didn’t. Leon Kennedy never means what he says. He speaks before he thinks and in very rare cases - regrets it later. 

“You know how I get” he spurts out, head thinking much more clearer now with the familiar weight of your cock resting atop of his tongue and the tangy plastic taste dancing across his taste buds.

And of course you do. You know who Leon Scott Kennedy is and you know how he can get. He is the most prestigious student at the police academy. You know the reputation surrounding him, and you know what he has to do to uphold it and sometimes the pressure gets the best of him.  

“ I shouldn’t have acted that way” he manages to say with drool running down his chin, mouth getting exhausted from trying to speak while having his lips wrapped around your dick.

Of course he knows he shouldn’t have acted that way. Your Leon knows he shouldn’t because such behavior comes with a certain punishment. Yet that’s what your relationship is all about; Leon testing your limits and you punishing him for it, a sort of push and pull you’ve had going on since you met him. 

You stay silent for the whole entirety of his apology, making it clear you were still ignoring him. And every time he realizes that he is being ignored, a fresh wave of tears makes its way down his cheeks. His sniffles along with the squelching sound from his mouth echos throughout the room as he suckles harder on your dick, searching for both comfort and attention from the one person who won’t give it to him. 

It’s clear that you won’t accept his apology so easily.

Leon had been out of line today, worried a bit too much about his name, reputation and place in the academy, lashed out in such a way you have to remind him who’s in charge here. Drooling on your dick and muttering a couple of apologies won’t make up for the tantrum he’d thrown earlier today. That’s why you suggest to him “How about this, you get through this report without cumming and I might just accept your apology” 

Leon is unable to contain his excitement as he mutters a response with his lips still wrapped around your cock “yes sir, yes please”

Leon allows you to to shove your dick down his throat and put your boot on his cock as he attempts not to blow his load.

He does well the first couple of minutes, never giving into his high even though his hips continuously buck and he gets lost in the feeling of having a cock in his mouth.

However his punishment has just begun and you make it clear with a harsh thrust of your hips and a cruel twist of your boot on his dick. 

Eventually things start to go downhill…

“What was that?”  You ask as you roll your chair back a bit to get a better look at him. 

What you see when you look down is Leon Kennedy on his hands and knees, tears running down his cheeks and lips wrapped around your dick like it’s his last meal with your boot pressed against his own dick.  

“Did you say something Kennedy?” You ask faux sympathy dripping from your lips, like he hadn’t been talking ever since he got here. Your hand falls to his head, fingers sinking into his hair as if to pet it but turning up to yank the curls at the back of his neck to have a better look at his face. 

His eyes are half lidded, fat tears clinging onto long lashes and running down flushed cheeks. His lips are red and puffy, drool’s running at the corners of his mouth while he does his best to keep his lips wrapped around  your dick. 

His usual pristine police uniform is disheveled- unbuttoned at the collar and hanging loose at the side of his shoulder. His belt is unbuckled, pants unbuttoned and cock heavily pressing up against the soiled fabric of his pants. 

He sniffles sadly, hand coming up to rub away his tears and he manages out a nod before he goes to respond  “Are we almost done with the report, sir?”

Instead of responding to him, you release the grip on his hair and roll your chair back in place. You hear the man beneath you squeak at the pushing movement, nails crawling at your legs and gagging at the forceful intrusion. 

When you go to speak, it’s not to respond to him but rather to raise attention to something else. 

“You can still talk?” You ask, faux disappointment dripping from your voice, “should’ve picked a bigger one” You say, as you buck your hips again and press your boot down on his dick  only to be met with the sound of gagging mixing with the sound of whimpers. And you can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you skim over the next part of the report. 

“Oh well then. Help me answer this, yeah?” You say before reading the question to him, never once letting up the pace you’ve created between your foot and hips.

He gasps and his body jerks in response.

You know he can back away any time if it gets too much for him, tap twice on your thigh or even use his safe word if he wants to. But he doesn’t, he never asks you too stop. He’s too busy filling that gaping hole he calls mouth, and too busy with relieving his little dick.

You feel his blunt nails claw at the fabric of your pant leg, desperately holding onto it so that your boot never leaves his dick. And despite the gagging noises he makes, he never lets go off your dick, deepthroating it like his life depends on it,  “Gnnnh,”

“I can’t hear you big boy you got a whole cock shoved down your throat “ you chuckle, dropping the report for one second to give your undivided attention to the man underneath your desk. 

“ gonna gonna-“ is all he manages to say, nails sinking deeper into your skin as you hear something akin to a cry make its way past his lips.

 

A moment of silence falls over you  as you feel his mouth release your cock and body slump onto your leg, face pressed into the material, his hot breath hitting your pant leg.

You roll back your chair and look down at him to see him twitching in place, body now dealing with the aftershock of his orgasm.

“Did you just cum?” You ask with a sneer but your pupils are blown wide, desire clearly swirling in your iris.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry sir” he blabbers, hands fisting the material of your pants as he rubs his cheek against it and you feel the wet sensation from his tears along with his spit soaking through your pant leg.

You sigh, voice dripping with disappointment when you say “three times, three times in one fucking day” you’re clearly echoing back the words he’d said to you in a fit of rage. “I thought we’d manage to get through this report without you coming, looks like I was wrong”

The report is soon torn to pieces, the sound of shredding paper mixing with the sound of Leon’s sniffles. 

You grab onto the collar of his shirt, much like he’d done to you before “Maybe you shouldn’t be here in the first place if you don’t think you can handle it”

He tries to respond but he’s unable to say anything. The only response you get is the furious shake off his head paired with the desperate look in his eyes telling you he wants a go at it again. His hand tugging at your leg as he blindly tries to put your dick back in between his lips. 

“Let’s try this again” you sigh, rolling your chair back in place as you pick up another paper from your desk. His mouth is back on your cock within seconds and so is your boot atop of his dick.

 “You’re so lucky we get to do remedial work on this “ you say with a sneer before subtly bucking your hip and twisting your foot atop of his dick. And once again the room fills with sounds of gagging along with the sounds of Leon’s whimpers.

[youwerelikeanangel]

I feel as useful as dirt !!! Put my body to work !!! okay andrew

[starstruckloves]

Since it’s Christmas, (also, happy holidays to anyone who doesn’t celebrate, i hope you have a wonderful day as well 🫶 !!!!) imagine you have an f/o where it’s their first time celebrating Christmas. They’ve been so in the spirit with wrapping gifts and decorating and making gingerbread, they are just loving all this stuff! Then, it’s finally Christmas morning.

You’re laying all bundled up in your bed with blankets, the white snow slowly fluttering down to the streets. Though, it’s not long before you’re being shook awake, a sweet voice next to your ear whispering for you to wake up. As you groggily turn over, you spot your f/o with the most excited look, possibly already dressed as well. At first, you stare in drowsy confusion until they quickly remind you that it’s Christmas! They must have been waiting so long to spend time with you. Even if you guys decided not to get gifts this year or to do much at all actually, they just want to be with you during what some people call the jolliest time of the year… and that just warms your heart <3

[falconflight123]

Surprise?

Barbatos was sitting peacefully on the couch reading a book when he had heard you shuffling in the kitchen. What could you possibly be doing now? Maybe you were trying to bake something for everyone. Or maybe you were making something just for him. He would of loved to look into the future and see, but that would be no fun. Your sudden shriek in surprise and the sound of something metal hitting the ground did not go unnoticed. Maybe you needed help. So, Sitting up, he placed his book down, and made his way towards you.

“Mc what are you-”

Oh.. 

Your body stiffened. Oh no. Turning around you were met with a very shocked Barbatos. Rats. There were Rats everywhere. One was racing across the counter with another trailing behind. Another was climbing out of the sink. A grey one was in a metal mixing bowl covered in four which had fell to the ground and spilled everywhere and you had a giant bowl in your hand, arms in the air and frozen in your spot after trying to catch one from getting away. Flour covered your face a hair and you could only stare back at a very frozen Barbatos in utter silence

“...”

That’s when he suddenly hit the floor and passed out

[a-sad-queer]

Me: "Oo~ look! A unique 'x reader' in one of the fandoms im in! Let's check out the description."

"Y/N was normal until she-"

Me:

Me: "Do yall realize not everyone is a girl?"

[tonycries]

Care For You!

Synopsis. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer” they say, right? But you don’t think they meant close enough to be in their bed.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, enemies to lovers, hate/ angry séx, spítting, light exhíbitionism (Nanami’s), mentions of kníves (Sukuna’s and Geto’s), chokíng, degradatíon, cúmplay, squírting, overstím, jealousy (Toji’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.7k

A/N. Woahhh I got carried away and this got long, HAHAH.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - F*ck the divorce! (And you)

“What were you sayin’, doll?”

Of course, the only response Toji gets is a wet, pathetic little murmur of something - maybe a curse, probably a plea for more more more-

Something that has his swollen cock twitching so wildly inside your snug cunt - barley even halfway in but still stretched so obscenely around him. Something that had him letting out a low chuckle at how fucked-out his poor wife already sounds.

“What? Can’t talk anymore?” He coos, relishing in the way your nails rake furiously down his sculpted back in reply - a warning. “Drunk on m’cock already?”

But Toji doesn’t stop, not even close. Only slamming faster, deeper into your snug cunt, quick, maddening grinds just to squeeze inside. “How cute. And you were so keen to run your mouth about divorce earlier, you little bitch.”

Fuck.

And then you spit. Hitting right there on the edge of Toji’s pissed off smirk, splattering against that little scar you loved and hated so much.

As if that wasn’t enough insult to injury, your mouth is moving so stupidly before your mind. Ignoring how your pussy was desperately sucking his throbbing cock to look him right in the eyes. Babbling out a broken, yet determined, “Fuck you.”

At this, Toji has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. More to infuriate you than anything as he presses such a deceivingly tender little peck on your mouth. And you know it’s on purpose the way he lets your saliva smear all over both your lips.

“No.” He whispers against your lips, amused, like a little confession. “I’m fucking you.” 

God, and it works. You’re all but seething. Fighting the urge to smack his pretty face as he drags his aching cock all against your plushy walls. Back, back, back till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “And m’gonna fuck all thoughts of that divorce right outta ya, doll.”

It’s all that’s said before Toji’s finally bottoming out in one, harsh thrust. Rough enough that you’re sure it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his back.

Not even giving you the time to adjust - why would he? He’s got his pretty wife all splayed out and needy for him, what more could he wait for? Ramming his swollen cock into you like he hated you. Like he hated all thoughts of that stupid little idea you brought up, and was well and fully intent on fucking it out of you.

And if that wasn’t enough, he’s wrestling you to face him. Squeezing your cheeks together into such an embarrassing little pout that forces you to look into his darkened eyes. “Open that fucking mouth.”

You just hated how your jaw drops slack as if on instinct. Hated how you can do nothing but moan deliriously as he spits right into your open mouth. Hated the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, plushy walls squeezing him to insanity till you can feel the rapid bump! bump! bump! of his prominent veins. Messy. 

“I’m the only one that gets to do this.” 

God, it was too much for him too. 

“Think y’can divorce me?” He’s rutting into you so animalistically, hips stuttering and sloppy. Like he couldn’t decide between hitting that sweet spot he knew so well and abusing your poor cervix. “Think anyone else can make you get off this good?”

“I- Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-”

“Answer me.” he gasps, strained. Angry. Desperate. Breath hot against your face as he pulls and tugs on your lower lip - like a little punishment, as if his throbbing cock wasn’t enough. “Tell me. You think any other loser is gonna fuck you till they can shut up that bitchy mouth of yours?”

And God it was so maddening how he was right - how you knew no one could have you all breathless and cockdrunk like this.

But you couldn’t go down without a fight.

“M-maybe.” you spit, sounding a bit more whiny than you intended. “Maybe some other guy is gonna fuck me better, n’ have a hngh- b-bigger dick too.” 

And Toji notices - of course, he does. Because he’s reaching down to toy with your swollen clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers as if to say “Really?”

He knew you too well. Well enough that he’s only fucking you harder into the mattress, like it hurt to hear any nonsense of some other guy falling from your pretty lips. Like he was taking it out on your ravaged pussy, sliding in and out of your sloppy cunt with reckless abandon. 

“Shut up.” he groans, glancing down at how sinfully you were milking the fucking soul out of him. Hips hitting yours so bruisingly with each word- “Shut up- shut up shut, you little slut.”

“Ngh- Toji. S’too much. Sh-shit.”

“Shut up and take it.” And you can’t escape his unforgiving thrusts even if you wanted to. “No one knows this cute cunt like this. You like this.” Unable to run away with the arm around your hip, the fingers relentless on your puffy clit. “Because this sloppy pussy is mine, I’m the only one fuckin’ her like this.” Teeth latching onto any inch of skin he could reach, rock-hard cock sliding in and out in and- Like he wanted you to stay. Needed you to stay. 

“And m’gonna fuck you till there’s no divorce in that pretty lil’ mind.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Gentleman?

“You think you deserve respect?”

Whoever told you that Nanami was perfect - the epitome of a gentleman - was the biggest liar you’ve ever encountered. Because they’ve clearly never had to work together with that uptight, scrutinizing, overly-strict son of a-

“Yes, I fuckin’ deserve respect.” you spit, the words coming out a bit more breathless than you wanted. Nanami’s office desk cool against your cheek, ass grinding traitorously into his throbbing erection. “Not that you’d know anything about it.”

He’s leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear, “I do. But-” And oh Nanami’s gripping your waist like it was the only thing keeping his sanity tethered to him. Pulling your sloppy pussy closer to him. “-you really think you deserve respect even when you’re being such a slut f’me?”

And maybe you’re an idiot - maybe you’re a mastermind. 

Because in one, fluid motion you’re gripping his silk tie to pull Nanami impossibly closer. That low, throaty groan going straight to your quivering cunt as you grit out, “Yes, sir.”

Several things happen at once - the first being that you learn that Nanami’s ties are soft. Comfortable, even, as he hastily pulls off the damn things, wrapping it around your wrists. Tight. 

You gasp at the realization that you’re now bound and completely vulnerable, pinned to the desk by his weight. Exactly where he wanted you. 

“This,” he huffs, amusement bleeding into his words. “-is more like it.”

God, you hated him. You hated his rubbing up against your back through that sinfully tight shirt as he pools your sweet juices on his fat head. You hated the way he was dragging it lazily, up and down up and down. Teasing. Calculated. Watching all your cute reactions. 

Fuck, you needed him.

“Are you just fucking talk-”

You barely get to finish the sentence before he’s ramming his aching cock inside your sopping pussy. Not even moments later, as he fucks you into the desk. Like he was trying to break it. Break you. 

Hips colliding with yours over and over and over, you were only thankful that these walls were sound-proofed. Because otherwise, the entire office building would be hearing all your delirious moans. Breath ragged, mind spinning, only babbling out, “Fuck fuck fuck- s’deep. Can feel you so- hngh- good-”

“Yeah? S’good.” Nanami huffs out a laugh at how perfect you were for him. Pussy sucking him up so well that it was impossible to tear his eyes from the sinful sight. “And you still expect me to treat you like a lady?”

Making you wish more and more that the people who always tittered in the coffee room about Nanami being the “perfect gentleman” could see this right now. How he was talking to you so fucking mean and splitting you apart on his cock even meaner.

“Hah- f-fuck you.” And the only thing you can do is pull uselessly at the restraint around your wrist, knowing it’s a pathetic attempt. As if to drive the point deeper, Nanami purposefully pulls you up by the tie, using it as leverage to bounce you back into his thrusts like some fucktoy - his favorite one, of course.

You yelp at the change in angle, his swollen cock dragging so dizzyingly against all the right spots. Pounding into you, deep. Disrespectful - like he promised.

“Fuck me?” he clicks his tongue and scoffs so uncharacteristically. Then again, Nanami was always out of character with you. “Last time I checked, I-” One, harsh thrust. “-was the one fucking you. Like a slut.”

“At least this ‘slut’,” it’s hard to speak with the way he was fucking pushing into your lungs. “Can do a better job than you.” You crane your neck to glare at him as best you could. “You call this fucking?”

Then it’s like something snapped. Several somethings, in fact.

Nanami’s tie, his sanity, you by the end of this.

And before you know it, you’re on your back, splayed out sinfully on top of the desk. Nanami’s heavy cock pulling out just to throw you around how he pleased, immediately burying back into your sloppy pussy like it killed him to stay apart. 

“Little bitch. Always testin’ me.” he’s grunting, drawing urgent, frenzied little patterns on your clit - not even circles because for once in his life, Nanami was too impatient. Too depraved. “Always fuckin’ getting on my nerves with your smart mouth and-” Hips getting so filthy, a rough, maddening tandem. “Slutty lil’ skirts.”

Once he started, Nanami couldn’t stop - he couldn’t stop his movements, so desperate to get you off. And he couldn’t stop his words either.

“Wan’ed this so bad. So fucking bad.” Words slurring. Maddening - like a man possessed. “Cos’ you’re such a fucking bitch n’ I wanted to bend you over and shut you up at every meeting we had. Didn’t care for an audience.”

He’s milking himself on your dripping cunt with reckless abandon, groaning at the way you’re taking each slam of his hips so well. Bruising on your ass, your swollen clit, your mouth as Nanami hisses out little profanities into it. Like a mantra. 

“Mmpf- fuck, K-Ken. S’too much oh my god. Feels so-.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Hey there, Mr. Nanami. M’just here to confirm that the team meeting will be here in five?” A voice, unassuming from outside the door. “Yeah. Jus’ come in then, we’ll be ready in five.” You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the looming interruption or Nanami’s next words. Cock still unforgiving. Disrespectful. Turning to you as he whispers against your lips, “Better get done, you little slut. Before HR finds out why we have so many debriefs here.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - To kill? To ruin.

“So, you couldn’t kill me. Now what, pretty?”

Your eyes stay locked on the cult leader sat in front of you. The way his inky hair framed that relaxed smile - too relaxed. His arm bruising around your waist, tight to keep you from escaping. Long lashes fluttering so enticingly as he waited for your answer. 

Your target. 

Unfairly beautiful - even with the knife at his throat, his own just inches away from your neck. 

And you don’t know if you’re even breathing - or if he is either. Waiting to see how one word could change everything. How you’d end up killing each other, a bloodbath. Or-

Or how you’d end up spread so shamefully on Geto’s tatami floors, legs dangling off his strong shoulders. Poor pussy so bloated with his cum already. Hands scrambling to grip onto the floor - his biceps - his hair - just anything to keep yourself from losing your fucking sanity while he fucks you like he’s lost his. 

Over and over and- You’ve lost track of time now, it’s been hours, both of you barely lucid at this point. 

“Awww, what happened? Shy?” he’s tutting mockingly in your ear, acting as if you’ve got the capability to form any coherent sentences right now. “N’ you were so feisty earlier.”

“F-fuck ah- you.” you manage to choke out, teary and barely coherent with the hand wrapped around your throat. Only growing tighter with each cute lil’ whine leaving your swollen lips. 

“Ha! Guess you’re still feisty.” Geto lets out a breathy laugh, unsure where to look at - how you were staring up at him with such sultry, defiant eyes or the way your heavenly cunt was sucking him like anything but. Puffy folds bulging obscenely around him. So messy and wet, painted white with this cum. “Feisty enough to gimme another one?”

Hell, Geto doesn’t even know if he can cum again - but that sinful little pool of cum spreading on the floor makes some primal, raw part of himself think he just might will it out of himself. Or die trying. 

Messy. So messy. 

“D-die trying?” you repeat breathlessly, more to yourself than Geto. Oops- had he said that out loud? 

Oh, Geto was having way too much fun with this. Way too much fun with how you were so overstimulated and fucked dumb. Watching as you wonder how you were the one supposed to assassinate him, but might just not make it out alive yourself.  

“Mhm.” he grins, at how cockdrunk you were, squeezing your throat tighter. Blood roaring in your eyes, vision spotty now. “Die trying, or cum f’me first. Your choice.”

He’s fucking you so mean. So hard that you were sure the creases of the tatami mat would be there on your back even tomorrow. Geto’s warm cum dribbling down your legs, nothing but rough, lewd squelches from below. Sloppy and addicting. 

“I- don’t-”

“I d-don’t.” he mocks your delirious little stammers. Biting down on your neck, hard. “Shut up.” Thrusts only getting sharper, more calculated - like it personally offended him you were even able to talk this much. Hand squeezing tighter and tighter- “Jus’ cum if you wanna breathe, pretty.”

“But I don’t think I hngh- can!” you sob, nails clawing at his wrist pathetically. Vision blanking, dripping pussy only sucking him more desperately. 

And Geto really can’t help but spread your swollen folds apart with his thumb, watching the way his seed oozes out of your fluttering hole. A lewd ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips each time he fucks it deeper and deeper. Fingers barely grazing your throbbing clit, so sensitive that even that was too much. 

Cunt so embarrassingly needy that it was almost difficult for Geto to move inside you, milking his cock too well. Too overstimulated. He didn’t care of course - it just made it all the more fun - but oh it made his dick twitch so wildly inside your gummy walls. Balls squeezing painfully as he snaps his hips faster. More purposeful.

Fuck. He’s strong. 

“But-”

 “Just shut up and cum.”

And then you can’t help it - you are. 

Creaming all over Geto’s cock, his unforgiving unforgiving cock. Body moving before your mind as a hand shoots out to grab his pale neck. Dangerous. Wrapping so deliciously as you pull him down, nails digging into skin so hard it could draw blood. 

You didn’t care if you did - would’ve enjoyed it even. Enjoyed it more as you kissed him, hard. 

“Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you, I should kill you.” you wheeze into his open mouth. All tongue and tears, and thick, hot ropes of Geto’s cum. Painting your already-overfilled pussy white, like he’s cumming harder than he has his entire life. Like he hadn’t been pumping your poor cunt full of his seed all these past hours. “I should kill you.”

And you can only take it. 

Only keen at the way his nails leave neat little crescents on your neck, breath coming in short gasps. Geto pushing all the air out of your lungs with each thrust. Each ram of his thick, relentless cock. 

“Yeah. Kill me.” Smirking, voice shot and just dripping with such danger - one that didn’t bode well for your poor cunt. “But only if you aren’t able to cum f’me one more time.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “You seriously like this?”

Those were the first words out of your mouth - bewildered ones, at that. 

Because, sat on top of the fidgeting special grade, pinning him to the ground with your weight, the last thing you expected was to feel his achingly hard erection. Already so damp, and hot against your ass - drawing a sinful little hiss from Choso’s pretty lips as you grinded experimentally against it. 

He liked this.

And you did, too. 

And you certainly didn’t expect to find yourself mere moments later, panties just pushed to the side so you can be split apart on his aching cock. Hands gripping his chest, your hips rocking down against his like such a slut.

“H-hah- fuck fuck fuck, you’re so fucking messy, baby.” Choso lets out a guttural groan, jaw dropping into a soft little oh! at the heavenly sight of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt. In and out in and out in and-

Cunt clenching at how beautiful he was underneath you - cheeks flushed, dark hair undone, sticking to his forehead as Choso bucks his hips wildly to meet yours. Absolutely wrecked. “Yeah? Look who’s ngh- talking.” you smirk. 

“F-fuck you.”

“Oh?” you taunt. “Last time I checked, I’m hah- the one riding you.”

At your words, he’s huffing softly - so different from how he fucking up into your ravaged cunt a jagged, sharp thrust. Eyes twinkling at the way he knocks all the air out of your lungs with the sheer stretch. Somehow, you have a distinct feeling that if this was his way to shut you up then you really didn’t mind.

“So what?” he spits. Fingers reaching across to roll against your throbbing clit, over and over in hasty little circles. “So what if you’re riding me like a cute lil’ whore? I’m the one oh fuck- messing up your insides.”

And then he’s bucking his wildly up into yours like he’s trying to prove something. Toned pelvis bruising on your own, breath ragged and you’re wondering whether Choso can even remember to breathe. Too focused on marking you up from the inside, feeling the way your plushy cunt squeezes and milks him dry. 

“I could f-flip us over so ngh- fucking easily.” he grunts, breathing ragged. “Take over s-so easily. Take this pretty pussy all I want. But no, y’look too pretty like this, baby.” 

You knew he could. Without even breaking a sweat, in fact, if his iron-hold grip on your hips told you anything. 

Strong - he was so strong. 

“Then why- ah! don’t you?”

You had half the mind to wonder whether Choso let you pin him down just because he wanted to- but you don’t get to ponder about it for too long. Because no sooner has the thought entered your mind before he’s running his mouth. 

“Shit, because I could cum from jus’ this sight.” Talking, like he couldn’t stop. In awe. “Oh? You hah- like being praised, no? Can feel you squeezing the fuckin’ life outta me. Hell, I can ngh- see you.”

And God, it’s so embarrassing the way he could read you so well. Immediately babbling out little praises about how good your gummy walls felt and how pretty you were. How he didn’t give a fuck if this was breaching your regulations as a sorcerer, he could do this forever and ever and-

“Shit!” it’s all you can do to keen and buck desperately as he easily finds that one spot that has you seeing stars. Alternating between hitting that spot with each and every rough thrust, and toying with your swollen clit. “Shut up- shut up shut up-”

You didn’t want him to - and Choso knew that, of course.

He chuckles, “Aww, shy, baby? You don’t have to be.” 

“Fuck you,” you manage to grit out, despite your burning face. Your steadily dwindling sanity. “M’not shy”

He gives your ass a quick smack! before speeding up. You shiver and he thinks you look so pretty, gasping for air as he pushes into your lungs. So pretty that Choso can’t help but pull you into a kiss. 

“Then just let me ruin you. Please, wan’ it so bad. So badly, fuck-” Relentless - barely even a kiss, like he was continuing the fight from before. Teeth and desperation and cries of the other’s name. Looping an arm around your waist to keep you from running - because this might just be the only fight you didn’t want to escape from. “Fuckin’ use me. Just use me.”

It’s like magnetism, not even a hair’s breadth between you two. You don’t know who’s getting filthier - you or Choso. Your hips are stuttering and sloppy, and so are his own. 

Nails raking down his chest, leaving deep, red marks. And he’s marking you in his own way - a little revenge - sharp canines biting down your neck. Intoxicating. Both of you barely even lucid as you chase the other’s high, trying to get them to break first. 

This fight, however, you lose.

Because it only takes one, two harsh thrusts before you’re covering Choso in all your sweet sweet juices. The realization that he looks so pretty with your slick glistening on his abs hitting you before the fact that you squirted. Covering him, dripping off his milky skin. So fucking filthy that it made you feel so sinfully dirty to do something like this on a mission.

And you still are - using him over and over to chase peak after peak on his cock. His thick, relentless cock. One that only twitches dangerously at the sight, a fucked-out little giggle leaving him. 

“Got hngh- o-one win under my belt. Shit, yer’ so pretty, now show me what you can do, lil’ sorcerer.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Unforgiving

“Why should I?” You blink up tearily at the towering monster in front of you - or rather, your king, you should say. Big arms crossed, bare legs spread, his cock buried deep in your dripping pussy, so so hard and angry even after all these hours. Unmoving. “I’m not a toy.”

Not that he’d ever be the king of you. 

But it’s times like this - when he’s looking at you like you’re more a plaything than human, cum dribbling down your legs, poor cunt so overfilled, - is when you think, shit, you might just not make it out alive.

Sukuna grins, “It’s either you do it yourself or nothing. M’not gonna help such a disobedient slut.” 

The only response you give him is such a heated glare, one that does nothing but make his smirk grow wider - cock twitching so ferally inside you. Teasing you for so long before telling you to do it yourself. He liked this.

“Oh but,” he pauses. Looking you right in the eyes as he spits on your pussy once. Twice. Adding to the mess of cum and slick down below, barely giving a fuck about the expensive sheets.

And you didn’t want to like it - you refused to like it. But shit, the way Sukuna smeared his saliva all over your sloppy pussy, stuffed and bulging around his thick cock, had you squirming like such a slut. “I’ll give ya a little help.”

Yeah, he liked this. Loved it, even.

Loved this familiar little song and dance - the way his prettiest lil’ consort was more bark than bite, snapping at him. But so so pliant when you’re split apart on his massive cock, jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cunt sucking him up so maddeningly good. Needy for more of his cum. Loved how you don’t even register it - the way you’re grinding and dragging your pussy on his dick. Deeper. Harder. 

Loved how your eyes snap open when you realize, giving him that beautiful stare that told him to “fuck off” a thousand times over.

“Awww, n’ you were having so much fun.” he coos, shutting up whatever insult was on the tip of your tongue with a quick smack! to your ass. “Time f’me to teach you a lil’ lesson, brat.”

And then he’s pounding into you like a madman - heavy balls smacking your skin. Wrapping his big arms around your waist to keep you still, because God he was so mean. So rough. Enough to bruise.

Warm, you were already so warm with his seed, the feeling so addictive that Sukuna can’t help but fuck it deeper and deeper into you. Wanting - needing - nothing more than to give you more. 

“Fuck you.” Is all you can manage to get out. Sukuna’s swollen cock too big, the stretch too sinful, his hips so unforgiving. He always made you feel like such a cumslut. “I d-don’t need to hngh- be taught anything.” 

It’s all that takes for his hands to wrap around your throat, like something snapped. Fingernails sharp, right over your racing pulse. He could kill you. And oh it was like you were asking for it, too - but he wouldn’t. Can’t. Instead crashing his lips onto yours, shutting you up before you dug your grave even deeper.

“So mouthy. Such a shame this heavenly pussy is on such a fucking bitch.” he nips at your bottom lip, teasing. Dangerous. “I should kill you right now for your disrespect.” Suddenly so much meaner with his thrusts, so calculated and controlled. Bucking his hips up wildly to hit that one spot he knew too well. Over and over and- “But I won’t.”

Shing! 

You never dared to come to the king’s chambers unprepared, of course.

“Then I will.” you held that sharpened comb to his neck. Sharp, digging ever-so-slightly into this skin. Pathetic in comparison to his nails, you knew, but something - anything - to keep this monster in check. 

But Sukuna saw - he saw that little wobble in your lips, the way your hands falter minutely when he laughs. Laughs like he didn’t have an impromptu knife to his neck right now, like this cute lil’ human wasn’t the first one in eons to pose a threat to his life. 

Because he knew.

He could feel it - the way your dripping cunt squeezing his achig cock, rocking to meet his merciless cadence. Eyes glassy, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, so fucking needy and on the edge. And he wondered if you knew - what a perfect little slut you were being for him. Exactly what he’s been looking for. 

“Oh shut up.” Sukuna murmurs, hot against ear. “You can’t kill me, you pathetic little human.”

“I can.”

And because you don’t know what’s good for you, you’re holding the knife tighter to his neck, wondering how the hell you haven’t drawn blood yet. Close. Just one flick of the wrist. So close.

His fingers snake down to your swollen clit, pressing down. Hard. 

“Stop actin’ up n’ just cum f’me.”

And it was so embarrassing. Embarrassing the way he couldn’t bat a lash at your pathetic attempt to take down the king of curses. Embarrassing how that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears as you cum so desperately around his cock. 

You all but scream Sukuna’s name - just a strangled, breathy mess of moans and tears. So fucking overstimulated that it hurt so good. 

Sukuna wasn’t any better - though, he’d never admit it. But you were so pretty for him, all teary whines and your tight pussy trying so greedily to milk the soul out of him, that he just can’t help but cum. 

“Fuck fuck fuck. Take it.” Balls squeezing painfully, dick twitching wildly. Again and again, sloppily pumping thick, hot ropes into your quivering pussy. “You don’t fuckin’ deserve it- but hah- take it-”

And you’re so cockdrunk and dizzy with the feeling of him filling you up - dripping down your legs, pooling in a sinful little patch underneath you - that you barely even feel the nails tightening around your throat. Knife knocked to the ground. Though, you think you’re so delirious that you might not have minded either way.

“Tried to kill your lord, huh?” Sharp. Dangerous. “I think you need more than jus’ one lesson, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Liar liar

Now, Gojo loved your smart mouth. 

Ever since those glory days from high school - he always has. He loved how it was always ready with a bitchy comment about his blindfold and an even bitchier smirk afterward. Always so hot-headed, always so fucking gorgeous. 

But Gojo loved your mouth even more when it was just inches away from his, telling him to just shut the fuck up before “Yaga hears and realizes that two of his teachers have gone missing.”

Oh, you looked so pretty for him all splayed out over your desk, papers askew, office door just closed - but not locked. Your pretty cunt so messy and just dripping through your panties already. He just couldn’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Does it matter?” he hums, pulling the drenched fabric aside just enough to drag his leaking tip up and down your puffy cunt. Barely teasing your sloppy slit. Hands just everywhere, goosebumps racing down where your skirt was flipped up.

“Of course it fucking-”

“Ah ah.” he interrupts your little rant. Breath hot against your mouth, “Someone might hear.”

God you could fucking smack him right now - not that it would be of any use, of course, with limitless. But you had a nagging little feeling that Gojo would turn it off for the moment, just to feel that cute smack against his face anyway. “Fuck you, Satoru.”

Instead, you’re crashing your lips onto his. So filthy with the way it’s just a mess of teeth and saliva - seething. Barely even noticing the way you’re pulling his angry, throbbing cock closer, heels digging into his slutty waist. 

“You’re all big talk but you’re just a-” he’s reeling his hips back, so filthy on purpose with the way he’s letting his weeping head smear precum all over your hips. “-desperate little-” Fat cock surging forward to stretch at your swollen folds. “-slut.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, m’fucking you.”

Nothing more is said before Gojo’s bullying his massive cock into your tight pussy. Head falling into the crook of your neck with a low groan as he ruts into you in jagged, tight little thrusts.

Like he wanted to tear you apart. Like he was holding back. 

“F-fuck. M’not a fucking-” you moan at the burning stretch. So delicious with the way he was drawing quick, methodical little circles on  your throbbing clit. “Slut.”

Because of course you couldn’t keep your mouth shut - not even when Gojo was fucking you dumb on his cock. 

And it’s all you can do to just sit there and take it as he thrusts his hips harder. It almost felt like he’d deemed you unworthy of allowing you to adjust. Hands locking around your hips to sit you all pretty on the desk while he slides his cock in and out in and out in and-

“Fucking liar.” 

“Wh-what?”

“This one-” Gojo draws his hand back ever-so-slightly from your poor, abused clit. Palm facing your sloppy pussy like he was going to-

Smack!

“-is honest with me.”

You don’t even know if you’re in the proper state of mind to respond to that - and you don’t even want to try. To embarrass yourself. As if the way you were letting out strangled gasps of Gojo’s name, hips bucking wildly, wasn’t pathetic enough. 

“God, you love this, huh?” he’s panting, like the way your gummy walls were squeezing the ever-loving life out of his thick cock had broken open some dam. “Shit. Do you even realize how much you love this?” he glances down at your messy pussy. Your sweet sweet juices smearing and spreading in a lewd little pool on the table below. “Sweetheart, you’re just drooling everywhere.”

And as if that wasn’t unfair enough, Gojo goes suspiciously quiet for a beat. One. Two. 

Before spitting a steady stream of saliva to the mess down below, awestruck at the way your cunt clenches and quivers like such a slut. 

“Hngh- oh my god. T-Toru. Fuck!”

“See? Ya love it.” he’s speeding up. And you don’t know what’s more erratic - his fingers on your swollen cunt, so frenzied they were like a blur, or his hips. Leaving marks with how mean he was being. Merciless. Fucking merciless. Massaging all the right spots inside, no reason or rhyme. “Fucking liar, so pretty takin’ all of me. Can’t even handle me properly.” Running on just the thought of you and getting you off and you you you-

Smack!

“Did ya know you try to squeeze the soul out of me every time I smack this cute lil’ pussy?” he chuckles, the complete opposite of how his cock was so mean. “She can’t get enough of me. Really love this cock, huh?”

You grit out, “I fuckin’ hate you-”

And as if to prove something, he’s giving your swollen pussy another smack! Right over where your clit was so pulsing and angry. White-hot shocks of pleasure going all the way from Gojo’s fingertips to your hazy mind. 

“She might just love me as much as you do.”

And when you cum, you’re cumming so hard you didn’t know whether you’d make it out alive. Riding your high on Gojo’s unforgiving cock. Wave after wave that have you so cockdrunk and delirious that you’re worried that someone could-

Click! “Is anyone-”

Your back hits the mattress before you can react - before you even think to wonder what the fuck just happened. Before the smell of pine and candy hits your senses and it hits you that shit those navy blankets look too familiar. 

“Satoru…” you glance up from Gojo’s bed at the man himself looming over you. Cock still buried so deep in your cunt, rocking so hard into you that the mattress creaks in protest. You can barely choke out, “D-did you just hah- teleport us-”

“Yeah.” he sounded so infuriatingly smug. “Decided m’not letting you go till you start being as honest as this cute pussy.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[penvisions]

sneakie peek {buckles and barley}

Pairing: Rancher! Jack Daniels x Ranch hand! Reader

A/N: this is a teaser for the series, i'm beginning to outline it and wanted to share a little bit with you since i'm not sure when posting will begin

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Bright sunshine reflected off the frame around rearview mirror, making you squint your eyes to see through the amber of your sunglasses as it hit you square in the eye. The blue expanse of the sky littered with wispy clouds blurred.

The rumbling of the engine underneath the hood was a comfort that had soothed you since childhood. Such a simple thing, to be in a vehicle that was hurtled down asphalt, eating it up foot by foot, yard by yard, mile by mile. Taking you to someplace new, transporting you into a liminal space where you didn’t have to think about anything but the road stretched out in front of you.

You glance at the directions you had printed out and laid over the passenger seat, too anxious to have typed it into your phone or into the device installed on your dash. The matte screen of it was blank, the power wire bouncing with the turbulence of the moving vehicle. It looked like there was two more curves on your path to the destination and you began to turn the wheel ever so slightly to take the one coming up. The crunch of errant pebbles underneath the tires wiping the anxiety away as the hills all around you flattened out to open plains.

Lush, tall grass as far as you could see, wooden fences winding through patches of the land. Splotches of dark color corralled within the spaces. You wondered what they could be, thoughts lost until a long, high-pitched whistle broke the peace within the cab as it snuck inside your cracked windows. You turned your head along with the closest herd of animals.

You don’t know how you initially missed the shape of the tall man atop a horse as it galloped over the land. The steady beat of hooves on the ground mirroring the ones of your heart as your eyes took in the figure. From the top of his wide brimmed cowboy hat to the spurs on his boots. He was in a complete partnership with the horse he was perched on, both of them working seamlessly together to circle around a body of what you could assume was cattle as the shine of horns glinted in the sun.

A lasso whipping up into the air had you subconsciously slowing down, your right foot lifting off of the accelerator pedal. Directing the vehicle out of the middle of the road, stopping to a crawl along the right side. Distantly following the pair as they successfully landed a hold on biggest one of the herd and began to guide them away from where they had been roaming.

Stopping at the line of wooden fence that must’ve outlined a part of his property, the man dismounted and effortlessly unhinged a portion of it and swung it open. With smooth movements and controlled balance, the man was back in the saddle.  Another sharp whistle had the herd of cattle moving through the open fence.

Breath catching in your throat as the man turned to face you across the plain, his left hand secure around the horse’s reigns while his right lifted up to tilt his hat in a greeting. You could see from your spot on the road, the vehicle barely moving along now that your foot was easing down on the brake, that he was grinning.

Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized not only had you been outright starting as the stranger went about his day, but that your vehicle had nearly halted as you did so. The sound of your engine still running giving you away. You raised your hand up in response, palm open and fingers trembling slightly.

With a click of his tongue to guide the horse after the herd, he turned around in the saddle, lasso circling in the air above him in a hypnotizing manner. Snapping his wrist, the rope flew out to wrap around the top of the open partition and it clanged shut with a tug. Turning back around to face forward, the horse sped off and disappeared over the other side of a rolling hill.

taglist: @morallyinept @readingiskeepingmegoing @cumberpegg @hiddenbabynyc

@persephone-girl @agiroflee98 @sawymredfox @fuckyeahdindjarin

[boowhumps]

Whumptober 2023

Day 8

(@whumptober)

By - B.W

⚠TW⚠

~ Swearing

~ Mentions of Death

~ Mentions of Injury

Enjoy!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Freyja breathed heavily, brushing her blonde bangs out of her face. She scrambled about the room, looking.

“C’mon.. c’mon.. fuck.. where is it..?” She whispers to herself, throwing things aside frantically.

Her eyes widen at the sight of a locked box. She grabs it, and starts to mess around with the lock.

It won’t budge.

Freyja groans in frustration as she speaks into her earpiece.

“Silas-!” She whispers, looking around.

A voice comes through. “Frey-! Did you get it-“

“No-!” Freyja says angrily. “You didn’t say there was a passcode!”

Silas groans. “Passcode-? Damnit-! Give me a second Frey-!”

Freyja sighs. “Fine-! Just.. hurry up-!”

She leans back, inspecting the box. She sighs, throwing it in front of her. She stands up, pacing through the room.

“C’mon Silas.. I’m counting on you..” She mumbles.

Suddenly, there’s banging on the door. Her eyes go wide, and she goes silent.

“You didn’t think I would notice, huh!” A voice shouts.

Freyja’s blood runs cold. She stays silent.

“I know you’re in there.. they call you remnant, no.?” The voice says coldly.

The banging resumes, and Freyja runs to the door, blocking it with her body. She whispers into her earpiece.

“Silas.! I need you, Silas.!” She says desperately, but there’s no response.

The banging grows as more voices shout, leaving Freyja terrified.

“Fuck, I’ll get you! You hear me, I’ll get you, and when I do, I’ll do what my grandfather couldn’t!” The main voice shouts.

Freyja breathes erratically, her body shaking. She scans the room, only to find no exits. She gasps as she feels the door hinges coming undone.

Finally, Silas responds.

“Frey-! The code is 0126-! You got it-?” He tells her.

“Silas-! They found me-! I can’t hold them off-! I’m outnumbered-!” Freyja says back.

“Hold on-! Just get the box-! I’ll help you out-!” Silas says.

Freyja calms her breaths. “Okay-! I’m going-!”

Freyja pushes herself to rush forward towards the box, grabbing it. Her hands shake as she fumbles with the lock.

“Fuck, come on-!” She curses, trying to hurry as she hears the door giving way.

She fumbles until the lock gives way, and so does the door.

Freyja manages to grab the shard of the jewel and contain it in her pocket before she’s kicked down. She yelps, breathing heavily as footsteps approach her.

She touches her earpiece. “..Silas-“

She’s cut off as she’s pulled to her feet, and forced to stare straight into a pair of cold, green eyes.

“..look at you..” He mumbles.

Freyja turns her head away from him, shutting her eyes.

“They really sent you for this..? I expected someone else, really..” He continues.

“I don’t think we’ve formally met, I’m Sullivan.” He says. “And you must be Remnant.. or do they usually call you Freyja.?” He speaks slowly.

“I know much about you, my grandfather’s books hold much information..” He says, pacing about the room. “You were taken from an orphanage, and they intended for you to become a demon-werewolf mix..”

Freyja looks at him. “You don’t know any-“

She’s cut off with a kick to her stomach, making her cry out and curl in on herself.

“..that’s where you’re wrong..” Sullivan replies. “You were a failed experiment, and that’s why you tried to escape.. but your friend sold you out..” He replies sadly.

Freyja shakes her head. “..no..”

“But she did.” He says. “And they caught you again.. then you were killed.. yet somehow.. you’re right in front of me..” He mumbles.

Freyja narrows her eyes at him. “Fuck you..”

Sullivan laughs. “Poor Freyja.. left for dead once again..”

He pulls her close, looking her straight in the eyes.

“This time, you won’t come back."

Before Freyja can respond, a searing pain erupts in her side. Her eyes go wide as seen realizes she's been stabbed. She can't even scream.

The hold that was on her disappears, and she falls to the ground. She watched the shard of the jewel in front of her be picked up by Sullivan. She reaches out and grabs his arm.

Sullivan stares at her in confusion. Freyja musters up enough energy to speak.

"..long live amnesia.." She mumbles with a smile.

Sullivan's eyes go wide and he grabs her, pinning her up against the wall by her neck. Freyja struggles, gasping for air. Her vision fades in and out, leaving her dazed.

Suddenly, a portal opens up behind him, and a knife is thrown from it, missing Sullivan's head by an inch.

He lets go of Freyja, letting her fall once again. All she hears is footsteps running, and the shard falls in front of her view. She reaches out for it, taking it in her grasp.

She feels her breaths slow as her vision fades in and out.

She only stirs when she feels someone grabbing her. She cries in pain as she's lifted off the floor, and put up against something warm.

"..Si-.." She mumbles, gripping onto the familiar grey coat.

"Shhh.. you did it Frey.. you got it.." He whispers.

Freyja grabs his hand, placing the shard into it. He squeezes her hand and slowly places a kiss on her forehead.

"..make him pay.." She whispers to Silas. "..don't let him hurt.. anyone.. else.."

Silas nods. "I won't.. you'll be okay, yeah.? Just stay with me.."

Freyja feels a few stray tears leave her eyes. "..I don't.. want to die.." She mumbles, feeling weak.

Silas shakes his head. "You won't.. just hold on Frey.. I won't let you go.."

She can't muster up the energy to even groan as she's lifted completely off the ground, despite the pain..

She tried to blink away the black spots in her vision to no avail..

She feels her breaths slow until she can hardly hear them herself..

And the last thing she sees is a familiar castle as her body gives way into exhaustion..

__

Freyja groans softly, her eyes slowly opening. She looks at her surroundings, taking a few moments to realize that this is her room in Celestial.

She tries to move, only to watch her limbs fall back on to the bed. Even the once sharp pain she felt in her side was hardly even there.

She sighs slowly, eyes scanning the dark room.

They look around until they stop suddenly, staring at.. him..

His blonde wavy hair is let out of its ponytail, resting against the back of his neck. His grey coat is on the back of the chair he's on.. and his head rests on Freyja's bedside.

She looks at his hand clutching her own in a warm embrace, which brings a small smile to her face.

She slowly pulls her head away from his, and lifts it, letting it slowly rest on his head. She runs her hands through his soft, wavy hair.

She lets her hand fall back into his after a bit, letting sleep take her once again, for she has nothing to worry about if he's here with her..

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[hollandsangel]

move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears