#wrestling fics

[sydsaint]

Slightly back from hiatus to post about my golden retriever boyfriend.

Summary: After getting cut open in his match against Kyle Fletcher, Will is confronted by his girlfriend backstage about his reckless behavior. But not even she is immune to his charms.

“You always have to push yourself.” You glare at your boyfriend while holding the bloody rag to his forehead. “Can’t just take a loss and let someone else win, can you?” You scold Will.

“And let a backstabbing twat like Kyle win?” Will scoffs at the very idea. “I had to beat him. And the cut isn’t even that bad, love.” He attempts to soothe your worry for him.

Not that it ever works.

You sigh and continue to press the rag to his forehead, waiting for the bleeding to stop. Ospreay’s face is already a sticky crimson mess. And yet, he’s still wearing that goofy grin that you fell in love with so long ago. It’s like nothing in this world can break that mans smile. And that’s why you love him so much.

“You look like a mess.” You sigh heavily at him, attempting to wipe some of the sticky blood away from his face.

“So no victory kiss, then?” Ospreay taunts you with a cheeky grin, waggling his eyebrows in an attempt to be seductive.

You scrunch your nose in disgust at his suggestion. “Wash your face first.” You demand. “Then you can have a kiss.”

“But, babe.” Will whines. “I want a kiss from my lovely girlfriend now.” He pouts, giving you those puppy dog eyes.

“No.” You cross your arms across your chest in defiance. “I am not kissing your nasty, sticky, bloody face.” You insist.

Will continues looking at you with those soft brown eyes of his, and like always, your resolve falters. “Ugh.” You sigh heavily and lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before grimacing at the metallic taste it leaves in your mouth.

“Atta girl , lovey.” Will grins triumphantly.

“Jackass.” You grumble out a response, despite the smile breaking out on your face.

Will continues to grin smugly and wraps his arms around you, pulling you gently against his chest. “You love me.” He insists.

“Only a little.” You reply defiantly.

“A little?” Ospreay snorts. “Please, love. You’re obsessed with me. Almost as bad as all those fangirls.”

You scoff and flick his forehead, taking care not to hit the cut on it. “Am not.” You pout.

“Yes you are.” Will teases and kisses your cheek. “My beautiful, obsessed babydoll.”

“Your ego is getting too big.” You grumble and settle into his arms.

Will kisses your jaw gently before moving his mouth right next to your ear. “Ain’t the only thing above me that’s big, now is it, darling?” He teases

“Oh, shut up, Will.” You scoff to hide the light dusting of blush on your face.

“You love me.” Will grins “Come on, admit it, darling. ‘Ol Will Ospreay has captured your heart.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence, even though you know he’s right. You do love his annoying ass. Despite your protests.

“Yeah, I love you, moron.” You sigh and give in

“I love you, too, doll face.” Will kisses your cheek. “Now, clean me up before I have to go back out there and show that bloke, Okada, up.”

“Oh, so I’m your nursemaid now?” You scoff, already going back to wiping his face up despite your words.

Will chuckles and lets you clean up the blood remaining on his face for him. Once you’re done, he smiles up at you

“Well, do I look camera ready?” He asks you.

“You look like you need a bandage for your head.” You retort. “But your face is clean and camera ready, yes.” You sigh.

“Hey.” Will grabs your hand and brings it up to his face, lacing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll be careful. Promise.” He assures you.

You roll your eyes with a skeptical look. “Right I’ve heard that before.” You retort.

“I always came back to you, though. Don’t I, love?” Will counters.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh. “Be careful, But kick Okada’s ass, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Will salutes you teasingly. “Anything for my best girl.” He flashes a cheeky smile at you before heading off.

[madhatterbri]

Splish Splash | Hangman A.P.

Summary: You decide to hit the showers after an AEW show. 18+.

Author's Note: This is a repost. I answered an ask with it and hated how it looked. Lol. It's okay. I learned a lot of lessons from it. ❤️

Hangman Adam Page Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @magicalbuttertarts @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @hodgepodge-musings @surdelcielo

"I'm covered in sweat. I'm going to take a quick shower," you announced innocently enough in the hotel suite. The arena hosting the AEW Dynamite/ Rampage was lacking in the air conditioning department. You stayed to support Adam, but it made you feel grimy. Adam hummed in response. He left his suitcase on the ground and sat on the bed to remove his shoes.

Removing the sweaty clothes felt like a dream come true for you. They were piled in a heap on the floor. You walked into the walk-in shower and turned the water on. The warm water felt heavenly against your back. Your fingers rubbed your neck.

Through the glass, you could see your cowboy's bare body. He opened the door and walked into the shower. He stood before you with a loofah in hand.

"Such a good girl. Stayed to support her man," he praised you much to your delight. The wet loofah rubbing against your right side. His lips met yours. He led you so your back was against the tile wall. You shivered at the cold tile and shifted uncomfortably. "Don't worry. It'll be worth it,"

He lathered the loofah in soap from the dispenser on the wall. The thin fabric met your neck. Small bubbles ran down your body. You sighed happily, allowing him to pamper you. The loofah rubbed down to your chest next. His lips met your neck. Soft bites and kisses distract you from the devilish man.

His left hand gripped your inner thigh. You spread your legs, expecting him to wash your thighs. He kissed your lips. His tongue licked your bottom lip. You opened your mouth and allowed his tongue to slip in. The distraction worked because your eyes suddenly widened, feeling a vibration between your legs. You moaned against his lips, and he pulled away. A smirk plastered on his handsome face.

Your dazed mind started to process what took place. A buzzing sound filled the bathroom. There was a vibrator in the loofah. You gasped. "Adam?"

"It's okay, babe. Hold on to me if you need," he assured you. Adam dropped to his knees and lifted your leg over his shoulder. The vibrator hit the right spot making you see stars. His other hand grabbed your waist to keep you still. One of your hands found his shoulder to keep you still. Your other hand pulled his curly locks. He hissed in pain yet continued his torture on you.

Much to your dismay, he dropped the loofah to the floor after warning him that you were close. You whined and let go of him. He placed your leg back down. He kissed his way up your body before reaching your lips. Your lust-filled eyes stared into his.

"I need you," he whispered roughly against your lips. Adam helped you wrap your legs around his waist. You slid down on him painfully slow as he filled you up. One last grunt from him signaled you were seated on him. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Your head lolled to the side as your thrusts met each other.

He praised you making you blush. Adam kissed you with sloppy kisses. Each thrust felt better than the last. The pressure in your stomach coiled tightly. "Don't stop, Adam. I'm so close,"

A few more thrusts and you were done. The coil in your stomach snapped as your orgasm washed over you. Your toes curled as your eyes fluttered. He gripped your hips and pulled you down roughly as his orgasm hit. Adam remained still except for the kisses on your neck and cheek. More praises from him made you feel on cloud 9. He helped you down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. The two of you trying to catch your breath.

He led you back to the warm water coming from the shower head. Your back rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around you. More of his soft kisses were placed on your neck and shoulder. This main event was the best you ever experienced.

[bittersweetastoria]

i wanna get back into writing fics / x reader things sooooo, if you guys have ideas / requests - toss um at me! doesn't have to be just the people i tagged. can be most any wrestlers, esp one's you see me reblogging.

[visionarystoryteller]

Love For Noella Levesque|| An OC World Masterlist

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

~Born 2 years into Paul Levesques professional wrestling career, Paul and an unknown women had a little girl. A result of a one night stand after a major win on Paul’s part. The little girl, Noella, was given to her father a few weeks after being born, the mother had signed any and every right for Noella away to Paul. For the first 12 years, Noella lived with her grandmother and grandfather, while her father became a staple within professional wrestling. By the time Paul started coming around more for Noella, she had already grown accustomed to him rarely being around. By the time she got a cell phone things had picked up a little in their relationship but a lot was entirely to strained. She had a stepmom that she didn’t even know because she was within the world of professional wrestling as well. When Noella turned 18 and graduated high school, she enrolled in business school and started working as her dad’s personal assistant, also meeting her stepmother. To say Noellas relationship with her parents was strained was an understatement. Noella was very private in a lot of what she felt and did because of how far out of emotional touch her relationship had become with her father and having a stepmother who seemed less then thrilled to be a mother to someone who she didn’t even know either. The biggest blow to Noellas already complicated relationship with her family was finding out that she had 3 sisters who lived with both their parents, while Noella was raised by her grandparents. She loved her grandparents very much but felt robbed of what a normal family would’ve been. Fast forward a few years and now you follow Noella in her already complicated life, add a male into it and well…~

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

X/OC - Noella Ann Levesque

With/ - Triple H-Paul Levesque - Stephanie McMahon - Shawn Michaels-Shawn Hickenbottom - Tony Kahn -Chris Jericho-Chris Irvine - MJF-Maxwell Jacob Friedman - Adam Cole-Austin Jenkins - Britt Baker

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Masterlist in order

New Start

When The News Breaks

Everybody Talks

New York

Moving Forward

Cease and Desist

Us

Holidays

Worlds End

[84reedsy]

I need more Scott Hall so can i request smut prompt 23 "I love your body, baby. Everything you hate about it is what drives me crazy." Please and Thank you?

You tried on dress number three for dinner, exasperated by the way you looked in each one. Week after week, you saw the airbrushed, siliconed eye candy that worked the ring with Scott, and it was impossible not to compare yourself to that standard.

Scott never had any complaints. In fact, he worshiped your body with his eyes, his hands, his mouth, anytime you'd give him the chance. It never took long for him to rid your mind of any insecurities. In fact the longer his mouth worshiped between your thighs, the more often you believed his indecent praise.

You tried yet another outfit, wanting to look as good as possible to look worthy of being on Scott's arm out on the town. You tried amplifying your cleavage in the mirror to no avail, cursing your breasts when they didn't bubble like balloons. You didn't see Scott standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the closet doorway with a subdued and amused smirk.

Everything you'd tried on looked sexier than the last…perhaps because he was enjoying you undressing repeatedly.

You sighed heavily as you accepted defeat once more, shedding the skirt and top and adding to the growing discard pile. You adjusted your bra and panties, hoping that at least later in these, he'd find you attractive. maybe you'd leave the heels on to not be so much more laughably short than him. They did so wonders for your legs and ass.

You jumped when you turned and saw Scott's large frame lurking in the doorway, cursing under your breath as he laughed to himself.

“Scott!” You blurted out, your arms instinctively covering your middle and lace covered chest.

“Sorry, doll, didn't mean to frighten you. Just enjoying watching you play dress up,” he didn't move from his position, but made no secret of his eyes roaming your body. He'd seen you in the most intimate of ways and yet you still blushed under his gaze.

“Don't hide yourself, baby, “ he more made a move toward you, “anything you pick will look incredible,”

Exhilaration coursed through you as he approached. You knew if he was in reach, his hands would be all over you.

“I just wanna look as good as I can when I'm with you,” your arms relaxed but didn't stop trying to conceal.

“Trust me, you're the one everyone's looking at, no one even sees me,” his compliments made you flustered, but his sincerity made you believe them.

“I just wanna make you proud to be seen with me,” you admitted sheepishly.

“You have no idea how proud I am to have you…” Scott gently took your arms and moved them away from covering you, “I love your body, baby. Everything you hate about it is what drives me crazy.”

As he pulled you to him, you flushed instead now with arousal, knowing that it was unlikely that either of you would make your date beyond the bedroom.

[oddeyevibes]

The Rock w/ A Goth S/O

(Like usual, this is kayfabe compliant. Also, this has elements of my fic idea basically but I’m still workshopping stuff so I decided to do headcanons cause why not)

You debuted just before the WWF fully embraced their attitude and aspects of goth sub-culture bled into the federation. So that made you kind of an oddball but, obviously, you embraced it.

So it was an odd pairing between you and “Rocky Maivia”. This rookie femme fatale and this fresh-faced third gen up-and-comer looking to make a name for himself.

I would say, maybe in the beginning you two would keep your relationship under wraps, with the both of you coming off as either friends or twos newbies simply looking out for each other.

The other wrestlers that were heel aligned wasted no time in giving Rock dirty looks cause of how close he was getting to you.

You would support and help him train as he wanted to be some Hulk Hogan-esque hero to the fans but it wasn’t working.

At first, he was in that stage of denial and wanting passive advice. The “it’ll get better” type deals because he felt if he kept trying, he could win them over. He was even given those talks by the other faces backstage.

As someone who was more “heel aligned”, you thought that was horse shit but you supported what he initially wanted.

It wasn’t until the “Die Rocky Die” chants and signs that you put your foot down.

“Tell them to go fuck themselves” you would say and he would ignore it. Trying to talk YOU down from going out there and cursing people out.

“I just have to run my own race and I’ll win them over.” He was so naive. The poor baby.

But you were determined. Becoming the little devil on his shoulder while the other baby faces kept trying to urge him to stay on the “right” path. The path of “perseverance”.

“Who cares what the fans think?”

“They don’t even know what they want. They’d rather cheer on dinosaurs than new blood”

“Stop lying down and waiting for them to respect you. TAKE their respect.”

At first, he would laugh at your persistence. “Girl, you are a bad influence on me.”

But then it started getting to him more and more, and with the Nation of Domination now urging him, he finally took matters into his own hands.

After the crowd watched him raise his fist alongside Farooq, it was no holds barred.

Now instead of being some fresh faced Romeo + Juliet type fling, you two went full on power couple.

Subtext became straight up text.

I said it before in my other headcanon but it bears repeating, with your styles, the both of you would end up matching CONSTANTLY.

Also vial of his blood? You can totally have it. Obviously, I gotta mention it.

While The Rock is not one to cheat, that was the service you offered any heel clients you valet’d for but it was a matter of trust. Trust that he can get the job done because he always could.

He’s finally out of his shell enough to let you take him to a goth club and boy does he fit in with the way he dances.

You have full control of the music when y’all are driving from place to place until one song that he just can’t stand and he takes your CD out. Not even huffing will make him budge.

He sings to you. He takes the songs you like and randomly sings them to you. He wants to dance with you. He’ll even try to sing them slowly for a slow dance. It becomes a battle to see how long you can go without laughing.

He sometimes goes to wrestlers like Edge & Christian (and sometimes Undertaker) for advice on gifts.

Mankind ADORES you.

While I wouldn’t recommend on WWE/WWF Wedding (name one time the ceremony succeeded), if y’all confident it’ll work for y’all and Mankind is gonna officiate. That or Dude Love (who happens to be great pals with Mankind).

Rocky does help you break some of your heel-ish habits. Despite it all, he encourages you not to be TOO underhanded. Not in a controlling way but in a “you can do better” way, y’know?

In general, this is a relationship that a lot of other folks think shouldn’t work but it works just fine for the both of you.

[echoxshxrx]

[COLD] Person A gets cold during the night, and joins Person B in bed. // Adam squared Cole is soooo clingy

Cold Cuddles

[COLD] Person A gets cold during the night, and joins Person B in bed. // Adam squared Cole is soooo clingy

Paring- Adam² (Adam Page x Adam Cole) 

Category- Fluff

Warnings- Explicit language

Word Count- 464

Note: This is the first fic of any kind I've written in so long and I've never written for either Adam before but I wanted to give it a go so please don't be too harsh ;-;

Cole let out a frustrated sigh as he tossed and turned in the second of two beds in the hotel room he shared with his boyfriend. *Normally* Cole and Hangman would've shared a bed, even if one of them accidentally got a hotel room with two beds instead of one. However, tonight was different. They got into a fight? It wasn't significant enough to consider it a fight....more like a disagreement. But nonetheless, Hangman had insisted they sleep in separate beds. He turned over from where he lay alone to look at Hangman, feeling salty that his boyfriend was getting such deep sleep while he lay there restless and cold despite being wrapped up in all the blankets he could gather. It was winter, after all, and there had been a snowstorm on top of that.

Cole sighed softly as he thought for a minute. He wanted so badly to go over and curl up with his space heater of a boyfriend. However, at the same time, he didn't want to further upset him. After a few minutes, he finally gathered a blanket or two and lay next to Hangman. Cole waited a few minutes for his boyfriend to roll back over and face away, not wanting to wake him before getting up out of his bed and lying next to Hangman. He was surprised when Hangman almost immediately turned back over and pulled Cole close to his body.

"I knew you would come over here at some point, Darlin'." Hangman mumbled sleepily. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of Cole's head. Cole tightly wrapped his arms around Hangman and kept him close, burying his face in his boyfriend's chest. Cole looked up at his boyfriend with a confused look and received a tired smile in return.

"I thought you were asleep." Cole said softly, a pout in his tone and on his face as he spoke.

"I was, but I could pretty much feel how cold you were from here but I didn't know if you were asleep." Hangman said with a slight chuckle and gave Cole a shy smile. "I should've gone to lay with you anyway."

"No, it's okay, babe...You said you wanted us to sleep in separate beds since we were arguing..." Cole couldn't help a slight frown across his face which caused his boyfriend to frown slightly as well.

"Well only cause we were still arguing and I didn't want to go to bed with you angry...It's not good to do that, apparently." Hangman looked away, feeling a bit bad that he had made Cole feel like he couldn't come to lay with him.

"It's okay, baby..." They sat like that in each other's arms, Hangman soothingly running his fingers through Cole's long blonde locks as they enjoyed the comforting silence.

[itjazzbicch]

Just a quick PSA.

I am done writing for wrestling for the time being but I do know that I have mutuals who like to go to my Wattpad and read my old works so! If you are one of those people!

I need you guys to know that for some reason, Wattpad has been deleting my stories, specifically my wrestling ones, saying that I am “going against community guidelines” meanwhile they have been posted for like 2 years or maybe more. I don’t remember

So if one of the fics you like is suddenly missing on my Wattpad, that’s why. There’s literally nothing I can do unfortunately

On a good note, I do have many wrestling fics on here if you go through my blog and go thru it tags

I am highly considering to just not post on Wattpad whatsoever anymore. That platform has done nothing but stress me out and all of the fandoms I do write for I have master lists on here now so, I may just stop posting there all together

[wolvesandshine]

I need more jock! regulus fics like he was also an athlete okay and he’s a black so he never does things in halves. I need regulus being buff or if not at the very least having the biggest sleeper build of all time. I need him to appear all calm and collected until his favourite quidditch team/football team is on then he goes crazy - he yells and screams and has zero filter. I need him to do workouts at home cause wdym he’s going to slack in the holidays he’s a black - just jock regulus guys

[sydsaint]

Haven't done a WIP update in a while. So let's do a quick update!

Bron Breakker x GM!Assistant!Reader pt. 2

CM Punk x Wrestler!Reader @ Clash At the Castle

Tama Tonga x Bloodline!Manager!Reader

Willow Nightingale x Fem!Reader (pride collection)

[daddyhausen]

Roman fingers his girl until shes sobbing and begging him to stop but he wants to make her squirt multiple times.

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 FINGERING HEADCANNONS 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 WWE MASTERLIST」 | 「 ROMAN REIGNS MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — fingering headcannons w/ roman

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ [ MINORS DNI ] smut, fingering, female orgasm, multiple orgasms, squirting

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 278

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x roman reigns

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @mjfass @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @janetreader @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @selena-tyler-564 @alyyaanna @nightmare-freakin-viper @nev-danielgarciawife @teenagedramaqueenlisa

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

he’s rough 

his fingers are calloused and warn 

he spreads your folds with such ease even when not properly lubricated 

the way his fingers stretch your tight cunt is nothing short of mesmerizing 

hypnotic almost 

he pumps you out with two of them, a thumb circling your clit for added friction 

most of the time he’ll have you facing away from him, legs spread in front of a mirror so you could watch yourself 

he’s mean about it

degrading you about how easily he gets you aroused 

not stopping until you whine and beg for him to make you cum 

he edges you, constantly 

right when you’re on the peak of orgasm he stops

keeping his fingers still inside of you 

your cunt clenching around them 

once he’s satisfied only then will he begin again 

You’re in tears at this point, crying and begging for him to let you cum

“daddy stop!” you’d cry out 

not that he cares.

he continues to degrate you further, laughing at the way you cry and scream for release

eventually he allows it,

he keeps fingering you through your orgasm 

“c’mon babygirl, i know you got another one in you” 

while you’re gushing like a fountain, making a mess of the mirror before you 

your juices cascading down it like raindrops

he dosent stop there

even when you’re shuddering and trembling with release

he cant get enough of those sweet sounds your cunt makes

sending you over the edge again 

leaving you in a puddle of your own wetness, your thighs soaked with yourself

even when he praises you its backhanded

makes you lick his fingers clean before roughly fucking your cunt. 

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

[madhatterbri]

Honestly, with everything I witnessed and dealt with this year.

I hope they like it. 🤣😂

BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND

RAZE THE FIELDS WITH FIRE AND ARSENIC

THEY KNOW TOO MUCH, WE MUST BEGIN ANEW ELSEWHERE

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[riptides-n-roses]

prey - the bloodline (18+)

⛧ pair - the bloodline (roman reigns, jimmy uso, jey uso, solo sikoa) x reader

⛧ warnings - unprotected p in v. primal play, degrading, masturbation, lots of positions, exhibitionism, cre@mpies, oral (m! and f! receiving), crying (from pleasure), obviously minors should not be interacting ♡

⛧ this is also my very first smut so please be patient with me as i didn't have any proof-reading done :(

⛧ the bloodline has been chasing you all night backstage. scared to your wits, you thought you have found somewhere safe to hide, hoping to escape. only to be caught and surrounded by the four men, hungry of whatever they wanted from you.

⛧ word count: 3.7K

Run

Run

Run

The only word circling your head. You were backstage, running as fast as you could to get away from four hungry men, chasing you like fresh meat. The Bloodline has had their eyes on you for a while now. They took notice on how you wrestled against the different female superstars. They have watched your every move. And now, they are hunting you down. But why?

You were so exhausted, barely able to catch yourself and you heard the twins call out for you.

“Mamas, there’s no need to run away!”

“Come on out, darling. You can’t resist us and you know it.”

You ignored their taunts and hid behind several crates, taking your chance to catch yourself. Panting from how much you ran, adrenaline spiked to a level you have never felt before. Noticing a small crack of light through the crates, you slowly made your way to it, peeking out to see if any members of The Bloodline were nearby. Not to your surprise, you see Jey and Solo standing nearby, talking about where they last seen you.

“I could’ve sworn she went that way.” Jey whined. “Do you know where she could be?”

Solo shrugged.

Jey sighed “Keep looking. I’m going to find the Tribal Chief and see what he says.”

That’s when your heart stopped. Roman Reigns. The Tribal Chief. The Head of The Table. He was looking for you as well. He is usually patient when it came to getting what he wanted. He was an enigma when it came to that. It would feel scary to be in front him as he was your predator. If he were to find you, who knows what could’ve happened.

It was a game of chance, where you wouldn’t know what would happen if any of them found you. You quietly let a sigh of relief, after seeing the two figures walk away in separate directions, only to realize you were still hiding. You quickly held your breathe, trying to contain yourself from panicking, planning a way to escape and leave the arena. You slowly got up and left the crates, and started walking until you felt a pair of arms swoop you up.

“Found you, sweet thing.” It was Roman. He set you up on his shoulder and carrying you away from the crates. “Did you seriously think you could escape your Tribal Chief? How adorable.” He cooed.

You felt your heart beat fast. You were caught. You didn’t know what was going to happen to you. You were trembling on his shoulders, unaware as to why he wanted you in the first place. As Roman made his way to the other 3 men while carrying you, he was smiling, finally catching what’s been driving him wild.

“Damn Ro. Looks like you found her” Jimmy chuckled. The four men then went to take you to a car, opening one of the car doors and gently placing you in a seat. You couldn’t speak or do anything. You froze in fear, afraid of what they wanted.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

You were brought to a hotel room, placed down on a bed with a blindfold covering your eyes so you couldn’t see what the Bloodline were doing. Your breath hitched feeling four hands gently exploring your body, not knowing that the twins were testing your limits – admiring how your body reacted to their fingers.

“Enjoying yourself, mamas?” Jimmy playfully asked you, feeling his hands grope your breasts. You felt your panties get damp from all the sensations you were feeling in that moment – your legs pathetically trying to close.

“Do you know why we were looking for you all night?” Jey chimed in, slowly making his way to your pants “You drive all of us mad – ever since you came here, you’ve made quite a name for yourself. The way you compete, the way you talk, hell, everything about you makes us hungry.” Your cheeks were warm to this reveal – You were too afraid to even come close to any member of The Bloodline. The way they took down every single opponent that dared to cross them, especially the Tribal Chief. You were craving for at least one member of the faction to fuck you braindead, probably never expected for something like this to happen. You lost your train of thought feeling a pair of lips going up your neck, making their way up to your ear.

“Tell us, Y/N” Jimmy whispered. “Aren’t you hungry for us too?” You gasped feeling him nibble on your ear as Jey began to take off your pants. “You don’t have to be shy.”

You were about to say something before you felt your top and bra come off, shivering from the air hitting your nipples. Jimmy hummed in approval before he started to tug them roughly.

“I…” You started to respond, taking a breath, “I am” The four men chuckle to this reveal.

“In that case, sweet thing.” You hear Roman tease. “Let us have our way with you." After those words were spoken, Roman took a seat, admiring the show as Solo stood beside him, hungrily watches how your body twitches with each gentle touch. Finally, Jey removes your pants to reveal a soaked cunt covered by a pair of panties, eagerly waiting to be used. He kept eye contact with you as he took your underwear off just waiting to see what he’ll do next.

“I think we know how this will go now, darling” Jey finally responded. “Don’t you agree, uce?” looking at his twin brother. “Oh certainly.” Jimmy added “Here, mamas spread your legs and relax.”

You spread your legs wide, allowing Jey to get a better view of your glistening cunt as he begins to hold your legs apart. “You look so delicious; I wonder what you taste like.” Jey growled. As you opened your mouth, you felt his warm tongue slide up and down your clit, not breaking eye contact watching as you melt in front of all four men while blindfolded only seeing pitch black. Jimmy began playing with your hard, sensitive nipples as he started to leave steamy kisses all over your neck. You whined from the sensations you were feeling, the steamy kisses, rough hands groping you, a warm tongue playing with your clit, sliding up and down. Roman smirked seeing you moan and whine, begging for more, feeling his bulge throb through his pants, trying his best to not pounce and do whatever he pleased to you.

“F-fuck!” You sobbed, shaking from Jey’s tongue going in and out of your pussy, your breast being played with and kisses being left all over. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling your stomach tighten from the sensations. “Please…”

“You’re going to cum, baby?” Jey teased as he stopped licking your pussy, allowing his fingers to circle your clit. “Come on, make a mess all over yourself. We want to see it.” You couldn’t take it anymore, “I-I need to- “

Before you could finish, your face was turned and you felt Jimmy kissing you roughly, muffling your moans and cries as Jey removes his fingers and plunges his tongue deep in your pussy again, Jimmy squeezing your tits hard and rough as he continues kissing you. As you finally hit your orgasm, you whined into Jimmy’s mouth, cumming all over Jey’s face, your legs trying to close. You could hear Roman chuckle as he watched you ride out your orgasm, Jimmy finally letting your mouth rest, a trail of spit following as well.

With a nod of approval from Roman, finally Jimmy took the blindfold off you – allowing you to see everything surrounding you as your clit throbbed for more attention.

“Ready for more, baby?” Jey asked you, taking his shorts off to reveal his hard cock. Your eyes widened, thinking to yourself how you’ll take it, or how it’ll fit in you. “Now now, mamas. Don’t forget about me either.” You turned your head to see Jimmy without his pants and boxers as well, your cheeks becoming warm. “Now turn over. Jey is going to fuck you while you suck me off.” You turn around to face Jimmy and position yourself on all fours. Making sure your pussy was exposed in front of Jey, you gasped feeling Jey position himself, slapping his tip onto your clit. “Easy doll.”

You cried out feeling Jey push himself into you, your clit throbbing from sensation. It was thick and a little painful, small tear forming in your eyes.

“Aww. Is Jey too much for you mamas? Here.” Jimmy teased, slapping his dick on your face before pushing it in your mouth. You began to adjust to Jey’s size, muffled moans escaping you while you began to bop your head up and down on Jimmy’s length. Jey starts to thrust slowly into you, making sure that you’re not in any pain. His thrusts began to slowly speed up, making your walls clench. Both twins groaning from how good you feel – Jimmy making you take every inch of him in your mouth, his hands grabbing your hair tight and pushing you down further, making you gag a bit. “Fuck, mamas.” Jimmy growled “Your mouth feels amazing.”

Jey chuckled giving you a hard slap across your ass, as his hips buck up with yours, “You like how I fuck your pretty cunt, baby? Do you want some more?” Your sounds were a mix of moaning and trying to grasp for air from how tightly Jimmy was using your hair as handle bars. God, you felt so full, finally getting what you craved for. Finally, being stuffed in a way you haven’t felt before. Both twins’ thrusts get harder and faster, making your stomach tighten again – slowly reaching your second orgasm of the night.

Your muffled moans were driving Roman crazy, waiting impatiently to fuck your brains out. Solo, who knows he’s next, has been watching how your body reacted to each thrust in your pussy and mouth – feeling his bulge get harder and harder with your soft cries and moans.

“Are you ready, baby? I’m going to cum soon – I’m going to fill your tight pussy with my cum.” Jey groaned, feeling his cock throb inside of you. “Me too, mamas? Are you ready for me to fill your mouth while you cum too?” Jimmy chuckled. You looked up to the eldest twin, nodding quickly with blurry eyes, feeling your stomach tighten. “Good girl”

With Jey picking up his pace, thrusting disgustingly faster, you whined feeling your stomach tighten even more, like a jack in the box.

“Get ready, doll”

You finally reached your orgasm, your muffled screams tighten your pussy as Jey thrusted one more time, - making his seed explode deep in you. Jimmy pushes your face down, his cum going to the back of your throat, growling as all three of you ride out an orgasm. Jimmy slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth, allowing your lungs air while Jey slowly pulls out of you, your pussy leaking with his cum and throbbing from the roughness. Your entire body shaking from how hard you came this time. Jimmy gently lifts your face up with his finger, giving you hot kisses all over your lips “That was amazing, mamas. You did so so well. Now it’s Solo’s turn – Be good okay?” You nodded as he gotten up, pulling his pants back up and giving you another kiss.

Jey gives you a gentle slap on the ass again, as he also gets up and puts his pants back on. “I’m so proud of you, doll.” He turns your face to meet his and gives you a sweet little kiss before he leaves with his twin out of the room.

Your breaths were hoarse, your abused throat made it hard for you to get more air. You looked and see Solo and Roman look at you with full amusement. Roman gives a gesture to Solo, allowing him to have his turn playing with you.

As Solo gotten closer to you, he gets his pants off, his dick poking through his boxers. Your brain still foggy from your previous orgasm, you look into his eyes with pure lust – You can’t wait for what he wanted to do to you.

“Ready for more, princess?” he asked, his hand reaching down to your clit, sliding his finger up and down. You whine from how sensitive your cunt was – you could already feel how wet you were getting again. “Answer me.”

“Ye…Yes.” You replied, wanting Solo to abuse your holes. He smiled and puts his tongue into yours, having a hot and steamy kiss session – Feeling his fingers play with your clit a little faster. He was amused with the way you whine and cry for his fingers to go inside your walls - still throbbing from Jey. “Good. Now lay on your back.” He chuckled removing his fingers from your sensitive hole. You were getting impatient, laying on your back against the soft pillows, spreading your legs. Solo’s eyes were full of hunger and lust for you as he removed his shorts. Your clit throbbed from the sight of his hard, thick cock – just ready for him to make you cum again. Solo positioned himself, slapping himself on your cunt, trying his best not to push himself all the way in you.

Without warning, he slowly pushes himself into you, growling from how wet you were, your whines making your walls tighten – He was incredibly thick. You felt like his cock would poke through your stomach. He gently grabs your throat, squeezing a bit as he thrusts into you, your choked cries making him go harder. “Fuck, princess. You’re taking me so well.” His praises make you look into his eyes begging for him to go faster.

“Y-You’re so big! I’ll cum too fast” You moaned, loving how rough he was thrusting into you – forgetting that Roman was next, you felt your stomach tighten scared of what he’ll do to you. As Solo pushed in and out of you, he burrowed his face onto one of your tits, roughly sucking your nipple as his grip gotten a little tighter on your neck.

“You’re gonna cum again, Princess? I know you want to.” Solo groaned, knowing he was getting close from being rough with you, lifting his face away from your tits and seeing your eyes roll back. You were trying to make sentences but your stomach kept getting tighter. This was exactly what you wanted. “I’m trying not to cum too fast. You’re so tight and needy. You’re doing so good.” He released his grip on your neck and intertwined his fingers with yours, your other hand touching his face.

“I.. I need to cum!” You sobbed, small tears forming from how rough Solo’s thrusts were – his fat cock continuously hitting your sensitive spots. “Yeah? You wanna cum? Cum with me, princess. I got you.” He teased as his thrusts get sloppy – knowing he was holding back from releasing his cum in you.

You let out a high-pitched scream, as you came all over Solo’s cock, one last thrust before his seed burst in you, your vision only seeing white. You knew exactly what was about to happen next. After riding out your orgasm, Solo pulled out of you and leaned in to kiss you deeply, his fingers playing with your hair. “Fuck, princess…You drained me. Let me fix you up.” He gently lifted you up, making sure you weren’t hurt or anything before he kissed you again. Your eyes turned to see a sexually frustrated Roman, sitting in his chair, looking directly at you. You knew he was going to be the roughest with you. Solo then got up, putting his pants, and fixing himself back up.

After he left, you slowly turned to Roman. The Samoan man cocked his head to the side, admiring how your breath hitched from how many rounds of sex. Your pussy still throbbing and leaking cum. He enjoyed seeing how your face looked, hungry for whatever he wanted to do to you. Your stomach dropped when Roman finally got up from his chair making his way toward you.

“Come here.” He motioned for you to get closer on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, you crawled up to him, your eyes looking into his. He smiled, admiring how exhausted you looked, your hair all messy. “Look at you, still horny after two rounds. You’re a dirty slut, aren’t you?” his words with a sexual undertone. Your cheeks were warm to his degrading. His rough hands exploring your body as you shivered from his touch. You wondered what he might do to you. Noticing his large bulge on his pants, you slowly reached for it. He took noticed and chuckled. “Go ahead, babygirl.”

With his approval, you slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his huge, veiny cock. Your mouth watered from the sight in front of you. You stuck your tongue out and gave soft kitty licks to his tip, he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head further down his shaft. You gagged from how big he was, your pussy throbbing for some attention. While sucking him off, your fingers made its way to your clit, making small circles around your pearl – a wave of goosebumps hitting your back. Your muffled moans and grasps for air turned him on. He was amused to how tiny you looked under him.

“That’s right, baby. Take every inch of my cock.” Roman muttered, admiring the way you kept your eyes on him while your lips were around his cock. You could feel yourself getting wetter to his words, your throat being abused over and over. His praises made you throb with impatience, just begging for him to be inside of you.

His grip tightening around your hair and pushing your head down even more, making you gag from his thick length.

You felt so unclean – rubbing circles on your clit, desperate to slip a finger in your walls, sucking every inch of him and not breaking eye contact. You wanted to please him. Your cheeks were warm as he thrusted in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Your gags made him want to force his seed down your throat. But he had another idea. What seemed like an eternity, he ripped his cock out of your mouth.

You choked, pouting that he didn’t fill your mouth with his seed. Roman placed his grip on your throat – he loved seeing you beg for his attention, beg for him to use you the way he wanted. “Impatient, are we?” He mocked how you wanted more with a flirtatious tone. You wouldn’t dare to speak.

He chuckled and in that second, he swiftly picking you up, taking a seat on the bed, and set you down on his lap, aligning his cock to your pussy – You gasped feeling his tip slowly stuffing you, adjusting yourself before he pushed his whole length into you. “Oh fuck..” You cried, wrapping your arms around him as he stretched you out, “I know, babygirl.” His words made you clench – making you fight the urge to cum right there on the spot.

His hand placed on your hip, the other grabbing your ass cheek as he began to thrust in you, deep, slow strokes to let you adjust to his size. You tightened your arms around him, holding him tightly as waves of pleasure hit your body. His gaze on your face – he loved how your faces looked while he stuffed you of him, your mouth open with your tongue out. Your breasts jiggling from each bounce on his cock. He loved how you melted for him – how you craved for him.

“You’re so cute like this, baby. The way you melt from how I fuck you. Is that what you’ve wanted for sometime now? Come on. Tell me how bad you wanted this.” His words muffled from your chest. Your breath was shaky, moaning from how he hit your spot everytime he thrusted into you.

“So bad…” You whined. Wanting him to go faster, You could feel your orgasm coming soon.

“Good girl. For now on, you’re going to be my little toy. Only I can touch you and fuck you like this. Understood?” He ordered, tightening his grip around you and thrusting faster.

“Ye-Yes Ro-“

“Yes what, baby. Say it correctly.”

“Yes…D-Daddy..”

“Good girl.”

You throw your head back, not realizing that you signed yourself with him, to be his to use, to make others aware that you belong to him. But you didn’t care. You craved for him to use you like this, for him to hunt you down like this, to be his prey. Your stomach started to tighten as he lifted his head up and kissed your roughly – the sensations you were feeling in this moment made you not want it to stop. You wanted him to keep fucking you like this, you wanted him to make it known to everyone that you’re only his.

“You feel so good, babygirl. You’re taking me so well.”

His praises made you whimper, getting desperate to cum all over his cock. Swiftly, He laid back making his cock stuff you further.

You sobbed into the crook of his neck as his thrusts get faster and sloppier, knowing he was going to cum soon. He felt so good inside of you, you were begging for him to cum in you. You whined when you felt him deliver a harsh slap on your ass and gripping it tightly. You dug your nails into him from how rough he was with you.

“Daddy’s got you, babygirl. Fuck you feel so good.” He growled, knowing he was getting close too. You felt yourself getting closer.

“I-I need to cum! Please, daddy. I need to- “You moaned, your legs beginning to shake. “I know, babygirl.” He growled, admiring the way you were holding back.

You screamed as you came undone on him, your eyes rolling back from the sensation, Roman following behind as he held you tightly as he came, emptying his seed inside of you. His dark chocolate eyes staring into your face – his lips quick to meet with yours and leaving hot kisses all over your face.

“Holy shit…” He groaned, keeping his cock in you as you rode out your orgasm. You and Roman were breathing heavily from the intense round of sex. Your eyes never leaving his before he kissed you again.

“You’re mine now.”

[84reedsy]

AHHH the final chapter of The Mentorship was absolutely amazing!

Thank you so much anon 💓😭😭😭 I'm gonna miss it a little!

I do have 3 alternate chapter endings and some sequels based off this AU that I couldn't help but write.

I might post these at some point 🤔🤔🤔

[niccolites]

green cliffs: - lessons in mortality. chapter four

highlander!soap x fem!reader. cw dubcon and period typical violence. read on ao3 here

There is a large exhale of wind as night turns into morning. You roll around in unfamiliar sheets, plotting how to escape when you are next given the opportunity.

Johnny’s father had been a saving grace. Although he accepted that you and Johnny were already wed, he had wanted it officialised at a wedding for everyone to see before he could allow you and Johnny to stay in the same bedroom together. You were granted to stay in Johnny’s chamber while Johnny would take one of the many guest rooms. With how you are woken up, you imagine that it hadn’t made much of a difference, your innocence already compromised anyway.

You were used to the wake up from Ian, the pinch of his fingers on your cheek as he was already half telling you what needed done - feed the chickens, brush down the horses, check on the stock at the back of the cupboards. You wake up, half hopeful, cheek already smarting as if in preparation of him. Johnny blinks down at you, half-lidded. Beautiful but terrible.

“I’ll be back soon, angel,” he murmurs into the tilt of your neck, leaving a slick kiss there that has you shuddering. You swallow down the urge to snap at him to get off of you, letting him do as he wishes for the moment. Your compliance earns you a hand down your side, Johnny huffing as he rounds his palm over your hip.

He lifts his head, suddenly, gazes at you for a moment. You blink up at him, the image of docility, which has him squinting. You stay still, let him cup your jaw in the broad of his hand. His hair is mussed up from sleep, fluffy and loose in the morning. His beard is only slightly thicker than it had been when you had first met, a little darker.

His pupils dilate then pinch, taking in the expressions of your face. “Ah willnae be gone long,” he says, serious in a way that sends a different kind of shake through you. A warning. You nod as best you can, your chin digging into his palm. He squints for another moment. His thumb digs into the soft give beneath the bolt of your jaw. Just before you can crack under his hard stare, it dissipates and he dips his head to steal another kiss from you. “Wait fer me,” he bids you, and leaves.

You watch from the window, as he takes his horse from Mrs Duncan’s nephew - the stablemaster. You sit at the window, holding your chin like a phantom ache that Johnny has left behind. You can see his head, no bigger than your nail, tilt back as if seeking you out in the window. You doubt he can see you but he stares for a moment, hand near his clavicle as if in prayer before he bows his head and Cerberus starts to move.

You sit and wait, watching as he starts the journey towards the small village just outside of the Keep. He gets smaller and smaller, barely a dot in your vision and then not even that.

You jump up and stride over to Johnny’s desk. The clothes that you had left yesterday are folded neatly on the ornate chair. You had managed to salvage your stays from your dress before it had been spirited away by Mrs Duncan at some point while you were away from Johnny’s room. Your new dress is a softer cotton, a light blue skirt and a thick, dark woolen shawl that you tie around your clavicle. The bag filled with what little things you had managed to bring with you sits in the chair, ready to be picked up and returned to where they belong.

You do your stays up slowly, knotting the string up your chest. Johnny has barely been gone for part of an hour. Although you would be on foot, you didn’t want to chance him spotting you while you were still so near to the Keep.

In the dark of Johnny’s room, the smell of him buried in his sheets even though Mrs Duncan had replaced them, you had planned. If Johnny was less eager, maybe you could have waited for a better opportunity to attempt to run away, but you had felt time slip from endless into mere hours, minutes. 

You don’t know where the closest priest is, likely in that small village just outside the Keep, but Johnny hadn’t seemed certain. His father had been discussing how the vicar may have been summoned to another village to perform burial rites just the other week, and so may still be making that slow journey back.

It is a risk, stealing away and going towards the village, with the chance that the first stable you approached, Johnny would appear. But, it was one that you would have to take. It would be too noticeable if you were to take one of the horses at the Keep’s stable, and you didn’t know how long the journey home would take on foot.

You tidy the bed, as if smoothing away any evidence that you had ever been there in the first place. You half-expect someone to catch you in the corridor, stop you and ask where you’re going. The few maids that pass you may give you a second glance but they keep quiet, scurrying like mice to wherever they need to go.

You exit out into the foreground, feel the sun beat down on your face, familiar, like an old friend. Long days out in the field, tilling until blisters form on your palms. Your skin itches with the sudden craving for it, and you set out, nose like a bloodhound. You don’t belong here, trapped in a room with Johnny and soft dresses. You need dirt under your hands, you didn’t realise until it was taken from you.

You cross the open ground of the Keep, people milling around as they go about their day. You reach the stone entrance, hesitate for half a moment before stepping from gravel into grass. Muscles tense as you wait for something to happen, for someone to stop you. The cacophony of noise behind you doesn’t suddenly stop, no one seems to take much notice.

You take another step then another, wanting to run, to get as much distance between you and the Keep as possible. You know you shouldn’t, though. You’re still in view of the Keep, and you don’t know if anyone is watching you too closely, but if they are, that may send them chasing after you. Better to walk, worst case you can always say that you were looking for Johnny, lovesick in the preparation of your nuptials, barely able to stand a morning away from him.

You imagine that Johnny will move on swiftly. Maybe rage when he first finds you gone, if you were trying to flatter yourself. However, another maiden would be in distress, and Johnny would swoop in and the story would repeat itself. You had half a mind to ask if you were the first woman that Johnny had brought home in such a manner, but had decided to leave it be. If you weren’t, you were likely to be replaced soon in any case.

It feels good to stretch your legs, stretching out your back as you go. You reckon that Ian will have something to say about your newfound laziness, a harsh wake-up required to get back to the realities of farm living.

You try to keep your mind occupied, but you drift back to thoughts of Johnny. You can vividly feel the press of his nose into your temple. His hands on your skin, rough and skirting, always shifting against you, as if trying to touch all of you at once. The dark hair across his chest, the thick press of muscle against his skin. You imagine another woman in his room, letting him kiss her the same way that he had with you. There is a bitter taste in the back of your throat but you ignore it. Only you can taste it after all.

Within the hour you have crossed the open grounds and are on the cusp of the village. It had been bustling when you had originally passed through, crowds of people at the market, selling and buying from stalls. Now, everything is still, a gust of wind blowing between cottages and whistling in a way that has the hair on the back of your neck rising.

The warmth of the sun seems trapped on the rooftops, unable to reach you on the ground. You hesitate, grass under your feet turning to dirt that has been packed in after being walked over so many times. There could be another village that you could visit, that you could beg a horse from, or even just directions and walk. But, you barely know the area, and another village could be a day away, and you could be heading in the completely wrong direction.

You shuffle, uncertain, and turn to look back at Dundardy Keep. Easily a mile away now, but you imagine that you can see the shadows of people in all of the windows. Watching you, keeping an eye in Johnny’s absence. You think you can see a figure, near the entrance of the Keep, and you wonder if you are being followed after all.

There’s nothing to be done for it. You step into the village, and make your way forward.

The loose fabric on a stall shifts against the wooden plank of its counter, wriggling like a hand in your direction. You stand in what seems to be the centre of the village, a loose circle, surrounded with abandoned stalls and a few cottages before they span down different paths into more homes.

You can hear the faintest sound, a murmur in one of the cottages. The lively scene that had welcomed Johnny is long gone, everyone gone into hiding. Nothing had been said about the village last night. Just that the local vicar may be in another village. Contrasted with the liveliness of the Keep, you think that you may have stepped onto another country, one with an absence of residents.

You head down one of the paths, a few minutes later, emerging onto the other side of the village. There is a stable here, with a few horses, and the sight of them nosing at some hay, as normal as can be, fills you with a sense of relief. Here is reality, as welcome as a bowl of warm soup.

You stretch your hand to one of the mares, and she lets you pet down her nose, nickering at you softly. You worry your lip looking over your shoulder. The village is in hiding, no one is around to help you out. If you cannot get directions, at least it would be less exhausting to be heading in the wrong direction if you found this out on the saddle.

It feels wrong to steal, especially in the shadow of a Laird. Your own village were tenants, but Ian had always dealt with the rent, always spoken with the men who were sent out to collect. This close by to the Keep, you imagine the crime is tenfold, and the punishment even steeper.

You feel owed this, though. Dragged out here by Johnny, you feel that you deserve to help yourself out. Besides, once you were back in your home, you could return, ride one of your own horses and guide this one home. Johnny would likely be back in the Keep in that distant future, another bride on his arm. Hopefully, this one would be a bit more excited by the prospect.

You unclip the latch of the stable door, the horses huffing as you step inside. There are saddles hitched to the back wooden wall and you consider taking one as well before you deny yourself. It is one thing to steal a horse (borrow, you remind yourself), but it is another to just help yourself while you’re at it.

You do take some reins. You had ridden bareback on a horse before, but you hadn’t without reins, and you didn’t want to find out just now if you had the gift for it. You come back over to the mare who butts her head into your chest, affectionate in a way that has you giggling before you hush yourself.

You secure the reins in place before you toss them over the length of her neck, about to turn to guide her out of the stall when you feel the heat of a body behind you.

“Helping yourself out, eh?” A voice hisses, then there are hands on your upper arms, digging into the flesh. You don’t recognise it, and that makes your blood cool before it heats again, hot panic that almost spooks the horses when the man drags you out and you kick out, frightened.

You are tossed into the ground, a familiar experience that has you gasping. If the voice wasn’t Scottish, you might think that the last few days hadn’t happened and you were back on your farm.

You attempt to scramble backwards but the man is too quick. You are grabbed by your hair and dragged upwards. The man starts walking and you have no choice but to keep your pace with him, a hand on his wrist that is in your hair, as if to lessen the pain stinging your scalp. He’s muttering to himself, calling you a dirty thief, how you will seek penance. With the vicar seemingly gone, you wonder what that penance will look like.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, and regret it when he yanks on your hair to shut you up.

“Shut yer thievin’ mouth,” the man hisses at you. He’s much older than you, balding and worn looking. You think of those Englishmen who had treated you like a plaything. Only that third man had looked at you with true hate, the way that this man does. It cows you, forces you to lower your eye as best as you can.

You are brought back through those empty paths that you had walked down, and brought to the chapel near the side of town, where your captor kicks the door in and throws you inside before slamming the doors shut again. It’s quiet here, here is where the sunlight had been trapped, filtering in through the weak windows and caught in the pews.

You rub at your scalp, gingerly, and get yourself up, looking up the aisle to look at the pulpit at the end. This is likely where the Sunday sermon is read.

Ian was always more religious than you were. He always recited his sermons before bed, whereas you had only ever believed in God when you thought He may smite you.

You sit on the pew next to you and look over that confessional booth. Johnny may be a sinner, but he clearly believed if the reason he hadn’t fully taken your innocence was any type of evidence. You wonder if he had ever been in that confessional booth. Wonder if there was enough time in the world for him to confess his wrong doing to you. Or maybe it was all overshadowed by his saviourism.

You are bought with Englishmen blood. You worry your hands in your lap, wringing your fingers together. Wonder if Johnny will be back in time to watch his father’s people take your hand for thieving.

The doors swing open again after a few minutes, and you expect to see the man who brought you here, and he is at the front. He also seems to have brought the entire village with him, streams of unfamiliar faces all peering through the doorway to glare at you.

Half-hysterical, you wonder if they really are going to take your hand after all.

//

An hour later, they still have not taken your hand, but you wonder if they may do even worse than that. This is no longer a chapel, no longer a church. This is a courtroom, an impromptu hanging of the witch. You had thought that your crime was attempting to steal a horse, but instead it was disrupting their peace. One of the village’s sons had died, and everyone had been in mourning, waiting for the vicar to come back to read the burial rites again, just as he was doing for another village.

You don’t dare say a word, let them discuss your crime amongst themselves. You don’t even know how the boy had died, if it had been an accident, or an illness. You know that you have done wrong in attempting to take on their horses, even as justified as you had felt at the time. Out of some kind of penance, you decide to let them do as they wish, and then hopefully you can continue your plan of escape. Ian will welcome you back, one-handed or not.

The weeping mother casts a hateful look at you, as if you had been the reason her son had died in the first place. You squirm beneath her gaze, hot shame curdling in your stomach like an old friend. You had been brought to the front of the congregation, stood in front of the pulpit. A sad mimic of a Sunday sermon, in which you are preached to instead.

It’s a mob, even as they play sensible. Listing your crimes, but you hear the creep of mania in everyone’s mutterings. A child is dead, and no one is to blame. These people want someone to rip apart, and you have given them half a reason. You can hear them starting to talk themselves into a hanging, perhaps even throwing you down the local river.

“There’s nothing to be done for thieves,” the man who caught you demands, addressing the room. “Take a hand, and they’ll steal with the other!” He throws his arms out in gesture to you, damning you.

There’s a murmur of agreement, every casting you a distrustful look as if you could be stealing again as they speak. You try to stand as meekly as you can, but it seems to make things worse, if possible.

Everyone is speaking over each other, demanding justice, but you don’t think they even know for what. The doors open but barely anyone notices, and in walks Mrs Duncan’s nephew. He takes in the sight of the crowd and catches sight of you. You wonder if maybe he will speak in your defence, if he’ll tell anyone that Johnny will be expecting you back in his room in the keep, and if you aren’t there, but rather dangling from a rope, then he may be more than a little upset.

He says nothing, but gives you a long look before he stays in the doorway, foot holding it open. Shoulder against the frame as he watches the room. No one gives him a second glance, too caught up in their own rabble.

You stand there, and let them yell at each other, deciding your fate. Only stirring when you are grabbed again, and spun around. You are facing the pulpit the wrong way now, back to the crowd. You only have a moment to wonder what it is that they are planning to do, before your hands are braced on the box, and someone must rear their hand back and the strike of a whip slices down your back.

Even through the wool covering and the fabric of your dress and shift, it is a sharp sting that slices into your skin. You shriek, try to dart away, or turn around, but there are hands on your wrists, holding you to the stand and the whip cracks against your back again.

You feel each leather tongue of it lick its sting on your back, quickly following with an agony that settles into the muscle and has you arching as if to get away from it. You think about the man in your village, how his back had been carved into, flesh ripped open as they did this on his bare back. You cannot even imagine, even as a lesser version happens to you. An extra step of pain, like a new colour that hasn’t been invented yet.

You can hear them chanting for someone to rip open the back of your dress, they want to see the whip slice down into the bone. They want blood, want it to cleanse you. The heat of a body  at your side, fingers digging into the back of your dress as if to make this reality. The rip of fabric, the cheer of the crowd as the untouched skin of your back is exposed, ready for the kill.

Everything is stopped with a bellow at the door. You know it’s Johnny, and relief sags in your knees before a different type of fear takes its place. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?” Johnny shouts, and he must be shoving people out of the way if the scuffle you hear is any indication.

The hands on your wrists are gone. You turn around to catch sight of Johnny, cracking his fist across the face of the man with the whip. The two men who had been holding you in place seem to be trying to get past as they see what their future has in store. You see them back away, stumbling into a pew and freezing as they watch Johnny rear his hand back again.

You blink tears out of your eyes and watch as most of the village floods out of the chapel, some staying and watching in horror. Johnny has the man who whipped you flat on his back, Johnny’s fist crushing into the delicate skin of his face over and over again, until there is nothing recognizable about him.

The sound of sobbing jolts you back to yourself, as you realise it is not your own. “Johnny - Johnny stop it!” You shout, falling forward and catching Johnny’s hand as he rears back to swing again. He shakes you off, forcing you back and into a pew which shrieks as it scrapes against stone. That sound seems to shake Johnny somewhat out of it, and he puffs, trying to catch his breath.

“Get him out of here,” he growls, forcing himself up and leaving the man on the ground. The man gurgles a little from what may be his mouth, blood frothing a little. You can’t look away from it, horrified. The justice for those Englishmen had been death and there had been something kind in that. This man doesn’t seem able to breathe, his nose crushed and flattened.

A couple of villagers scoop him up and cart him out, scuffling as they try to move as quickly as they can. The chapel is quiet besides the sound of breathing when the door finally swings shut at last.

Johnny stares at you, face still. You expect him to start on you next, maybe grab you and shake you around some. It’s frightening, how he just watches you, a faint twitch in his eye. The terrible urge to apologise sits in your throat but you swallow it down. You feel like you have been caught doing something wrong, even though you were just trying to get home.

“Vicar Jamie,” Johnny finally says, voice raw. His white shirt is stained in blood again, shifting down his chest and exposing the hair that grows there. You remember the bath from yesterday and flush, turning your head to who he is speaking to in order to distract your mind. A small, stout man, very haggard looking but dressed in Catholic finery stands near the doorway.

“Johnny, my boy, let us reconvene on this tomorrow, perhaps, give us some time to clean ourselves up,” the vicar tries to interject, but Johnny turns on him with such a veracity that has him shrinking.

“Now,” is all Johnny snaps out, mouth pulled back in a snarl that shows all of his teeth. His right hand drips red, a warning in itself.

The vicar nods, fumbles with his hands for a moment before he makes his way to the front of the chapel, neatly arcing around the smear of blood next to Johnny’s feet.

Johnny’s gaze returns to you, hot on your face. You hold your dress up on your chest, feel the cold air hit your back that has you shivering. His gaze holds no pity for you, and after a moment you glare right back at him.

The vicar shifts the stand that you had been shackled to, to the side and takes its place, avoiding your eye. Mrs Duncan’s nephew, who had stood at the door, takes a seat in the askew pew, face still as he watches you. A witness you realise, and a kick like a startled hare almost sends you tearing down the aisle.

Johnny’s hand on your upper arm catches you before you can seriously begin to run, yanks you into place.

A moment taken out of a play. You and Johnny, side by side. Your back exposed out of your ripped dress, a scared vicar who won’t look you in the face and a witness to your humiliation. Blood, cooling on the stone a step behind you, coating Johnny’s hands and his clothes.

You lean too far out of Johnny’s hold and you feel the tightening of his fist and you return to your place.

It's a sad affair, the vicar stumbling over his words as he binds the two of you together. Johnny is a barely controlled rage next to you, you can feel the shake of his fingers on your arm, squeezing and letting go, over and over. You don’t even have the official binding ceremony, the fabric that should tie your wrists together, the prick of blood. The vicar pauses as if to consider this, but quickly skirts past this as well. Likely, too much blood for a wedding ceremony already.

The vicar has barely finished before Johnny is snapping at him to get out. It’s a quick escape, a puff of air in your ear as he darts past you, Mrs Duncan’s nephew following shortly behind. The door snaps shut, fate sealed.

“What are you doing here?” Johnny asks, hot air huffing out of his mouth into your face.

You keep quiet, silenced in the face of his true anger. Before you had argued, snapped at Johnny, here is the first instance of genuine fear you have felt because of him. The anger he has that led to the murder of men who had hurt you, perhaps pointed at yourself for the first time. You wonder if he’s going to wrap his hands around your throat, squeeze like he seems to want to. There is a strange sensation of vulnerability, knowing your back is exposed even though it is hidden from Johnny’s view.

His hands come up and you flinch, missing the growl of frustration that comes out of him as they settle on your shoulders and wrestle you forward into your chest. “Why did they do this to you?” he asks, palms against your collarbone. The wrest of control, firmly in his hands.

You can’t look him in the eye, settle your eye-line on his clavicle again. The smooth skin, hidden in the dip of his throat. The itch from that horse ride - a lifetime ago - reawakens and you lift your hand, curl your finger in there. Feel the vibration as he grunts, feel the dip of his harsh swallow. Your name calls your attention. You look up, his eyes are dark, mad, even. You give into his tyranny. “I was trying to take a horse,” you admit. His nostrils flare, anger cracking across his face and you just barely stop yourself from flinching back from it. “I’m sorry,” you add, pathetic. Escape plan ruined before it even really started, you have nothing left to be prideful about.

He shudders, lowering his head to yours, the gulf of space now swallowed up with his proximity. You let out a meek sound when his forehead hits against yours, like he wants the bone to touch. “An’ Ah was out, findin’ us a priest to marry us, and you were tryin’ tae sneak out while m’back was turned,” he hisses out, hands clenching on your collarbone again, muscle and bone grinding against each other. You blink up at him, resigned to your fate. You felt the bite of teeth days ago, and had spent all of this time trying to hide from it. But, the stench of blood sticks and you must now reckon with it.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. Feel all of it, the drag of emotions as they sweep through. The mare out in the stables had been a lifeline and when you were dragged away, you felt it like the loss of Ian all over again. Leaving him behind had been one thing, but every attempt to get back has been a lesson in humility since.

You are a human, in the wraps of terror left by a god. Swallowing a cry that lingers in the back of your throat like a sickness, you hesitantly tilt your head back and nudge your nose against Johnny’s. He freezes, hands going still. A breath, shared between the two of you. Here is that smack of flesh after the fall, a day late, but now it registers. It was likely even before he woke you up with his mouth on the back of your neck. A lion lying with its mouth open, you were halfway down his gullet before you even noticed where you were.

Your husband now, you think, half-crazed, before you inhale his breath and press your mouth hesitantly to his. It’s clumsy, you only half know what you’re doing but he presses forward with a hunger that almost has you reeling back again. Johnny is a man to be offered an inch and takes a mile, his hands on the back of your head, pressing you closer to him even as he leans in.

You only half know how to kiss him, but you barely get a chance to learn before he is pressing your mouth open with his. Barely a moment to gasp in a breath before his tongue is against yours, slick and invasive.

You stumble back, still holding your dress up with your hands before you stumble into a pew. He pulls back for a moment and you barely manage his name before he’s picking you up and thudding down to his knees, dragging you down with him.

The cold stone sends a wave of cold through you that has you keening away from it and into the warmth of Johnny’s chest. He lets go of your head and it thuds against the ground, his arms worming around your back, skating past the ripped open seams of your dress and onto the bare skin of your back. He moans, deep and wanton into the curve of your chin, gives you a quick nip there before he drops his head into the crook of your neck.

“I’ve been so patient, wanted it tae be right between us, angel, didnae want to ruin us,” he groans, hands greedy on the bare skin of your back. “But, it’s alright now, I’ve done it right, jus’ let me -”

He barely seems able to finish a thought, tugging your dress down, dragging your torn slip and underskirts with it. He barely manages, as unwilling as he is to get off of you as he does it, so they end up pooled around your waist, nipples pebbling in the cold. He coos down at your chest, pinching one of your nipples meanly until you hiccup.

“Johnny, can’t we go back to the Keep, I won’t run again, I swear,” you start, feeling overwhelmed tears start to prick in your eyes. You don’t want it to be like this, on the cold floor of an unfamiliar parish. You aren’t sure of the technicalities of what comes next, your father hadn’t been forthcoming when he was alive, and your brother refused to say, always deeming it unladylike to ask. You knew it was something frightening, and heard some of the women describe their husbands as beasts during the act. You know how the animals look as they do it, saw the rutting of a stallion in a mare once, how she had shrieked as she was mounted.

“You were the one tae drag yerself out here,” Johnny points out, half-muttering to himself. He gnaws on your collarbone before he gives you a sucking kiss there. “Ye’ve made yer bed, sweetheart.”

He shifts himself up onto his knees and lifts your ankles up, yanks your skirts and dress down, tossing them over his shoulder with barely a glance. You’ve been bare in front of him before, not even a day ago, but this feels different. He looms over you, eyes dark as they seem to take in every inch of you. The stone beneath your back is cold, leaving gooseflesh all over you as it steals your heat.

He splits your legs across his lap and you jump, hand trying to reach down to cover the apex of your thighs but he catches your wrists in one of his hands, transfixed with his gaze between your legs. “There she is, oh angel, she’s so beautiful,” he murmurs, a thumb reaching down to pull the seam of you further apart, something that has you squirming in shame. “Knew ye would have such a sweet cunt, so pretty.”

“Don’t look down there, it’s unseemly,” you protest, voice weak. Your thighs clench with the need to close but you only end up squeezing your knees on his waist.

“All mine,” he continues to mutter, thumb coming up to round over the top of your sex, a feeling like a curling heat in your stomach starting up. It has you jumping, hare kicking out its legs before a hand soothes over its ears, pins them down. Your reaction seems to gratify him, has him rubbing his thumb until it’s almost mean, eyes hot on you for even the smallest reaction. You start to whine, deep in your chest, the feeling just on this side of just too much.

“Johnny, Johnny, please,” you sob, barely understanding what it is that you are pleading for. 

He lets up, petting down to your entrance which you can feel flutter at the press of his fingers. He pushes and you feel his finger push into you, a whine coming out of you like a wounded animal. He pants, not even blinking as he watches it, barely pausing before he’s pushing in a second finger, which almost has you bucking him off. He shushes you, half distracted by the sight of your cunt swallowing his fingers and leaving them shining. “So good, angel, so good,” he mutters. You hate that the praise has you trying to swallow down any of your complaints.

He lets go of your wrists and they lie, useless across your belly. Still watching his fingers move in you, his other hand tugs over the sash his kilt has made over his chest, yanking on it until it unravels and it is also tossed to the side. Lifting your knee to press a clumsy kiss to the side of it, he lets it drop again and pulls his hand away from your sex with a mournful noise and pulls off his white shirt.

Now that both of you are naked, Johnny seems to get quicker, breath coming fast. He quickly hitches your legs further up his waist and drags you closer to him. Stone scrapes at your back and you hiss, which he barely acknowledges with a quick kiss to the underside of your breast.

He drags his hand up your slit and gathers the slick that has gathered there, and slides that over his cock, moaning with his mouth hanging open as he looks at you beneath him. “Been dreaming o’ this, bonnie. Knew it was you, was always you,” he murmurs, smoothing his other hand over the curve of your hip, as if memorising the shape of you by hand. “Nothing wrong wae it now, jus’ the two o’ us, always, always.”

He braces one of his hands just over your shoulder, the other to guide his cock to your sex and notches it against your hole. It looks monstrous, now that you can bring yourself to properly look at it. Nothing like the faint sight of it you had seen in the Bible once, the mushroom head is red as Johnny pulls back skin to expose it. He intends to push it inside you, just as he did his fingers, but the head of it looks to thick to manage it.

“Johnny, it’s not going to fit,” you start to say, but that just makes Johnny groan and shush you, giving you a squeeze on the hip.

“Of course it will, angel, ye were made fer me,” he tells you, and you can see the pull of muscle in his bicep as he starts to push.

For a moment, you think that you’re right, it’s not going to. But, then, you can see the give of muscle, the parting of flesh and see yourself swallow the head as a tremor runs through you. A strange, foreign feeling. It feels half-invasive, as he pushes into you, the rest of you transfixed by the furrow of his brow as he watches the parting of your flesh around him.

“Oh, oh fuck, angel, oh shit,” he curses, continuing the slow guide into you until you feel it stop, as if you cannot take anymore. 

“Johnny,” you sob, looking back down to see only half of him is inside of you. “Johnny, take it out, I can’t -”

“The best cunt ever, the prettiest girl, fer me, all fer me, oh angel,” he rambles, eyes rolling back into his head as he shifts his hips. Pulls out of you just enough to push back in. You whimper with it, as he tries to grind even more of himself into you.

It's not working, leaving you sniffling beneath him until he grunts in frustration and brings his thumb to your clit and starts to work you in little circles.

His other hand hoists your thigh further up his waist, and he catches sight of your teary expression. Forces what must be an attempt at a soothing smile but all you can see is the clench of his jaw, the sharp edge of his teeth. You wonder if he likes the look of the pinch of your brow, the part of your mouth as you start to loosen up just a little. Even the few tears that drip down your temples. His hand on your hip smears blood into your skin, but you barely notice, trying to catch your breath.

“There we go, c’mon jus’ relax, honey, make it good, there we are,” he coaxes you, a tendon throbbing in his throat. His thumb on your sex makes everything a little slicker and more of him disappears into you, until he finally bottoms out, his thighs pressed flush against the back of yours.

A whine escapes you, painful and high and you cling to Johnny’s chest, coarse hair scratching at your palms. “Johnny,” you start again, unable to look down at yourself again, see the ugly stretch of yourself around Johnny. Everything throbs, you can feel him in your lungs, buried deep and irrevocable now.

Johnny is out of it, both his hands brace over your shoulders now, a tremble in his broad shoulders. You can see the white of his eyes, unreachable, as he groans long and drawn out. “The tightest cunt, knew ye would be so sweet fer me, dreamt of this, of you,” he rambles, pulling his hips back just enough to snap them back into you.

“I can't,” you stammer, but he just shakes his head roughly at you, beyond words. Braces himself on his knees and starts to grind against you. Pulls himself out and then pushes back in. It's a strange sort of pleasure. The stretch of flesh smarting a little before the clumsy rhythm starts to warm you up. Sweat slicks your back until the stone beneath you is warm with the fever spreading through you.

Johnny seems to come back to himself for a moment, thumb dropping back down to the peak of your sex, roughly rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. The pinnacle of the male body, all dark hair and rippling muscles, all bearing down on you. You can see the tense of muscle triangulating at his abdomen, flexing with each thrust into you.

He quickly seems to forget about you, hand dropping away in favour of sliding around to the small of your back and hitching you up. Your hands scramble for purchase, clinging to his forearms as both his hands keep only your shoulders against the ground.

“Johnny, no, don’t,” you protest, mouth opening on a shaky breath out as his thrust into you feels dirtier like this. You catch sight of the altar, the smooth wood built by holy men at their parish. Blasphemous, to consummate like this in here, Johnny makes it filthy, something that you imagine must be wrong even as you start to twitch your hips towards his thrusts, wanting it.

Your protests just make Johnny groan, your hips still propped up on his thighs, but he bends his torso down to press against yours. His head against your clavicle, you can feel the sweat building on his forehead smear against your skin. “Yeah, Ah’m a dirty man, aren’t I, sweetheart?” he asks you, biting at the side of your breast before broadly licking at your nipple, both of you whining together when that makes you clench around him.

Everything is slick, you can hear a wet sound as he works between your thighs and you want to cringe, ashamed even as you barely understand. You can hardly think, a fever in you that is spreading, but Johnny is burning even hotter. You slide your hands up to his biceps and cling to the hard muscle there as he thrusts into you.

Breathy sounds are punched out of you, punctuated with each collision of Johnny forcing himself deeper into you. It's lewd, the smack of flesh, but you feel hazy, dreamlike. Johnny continues rambling above you, his mouth working, the scratch of his beard across the soft skin between your breasts, but you can barely hear him.

There is a rising heat within you, and it spreads like disease through you, muddying your thoughts until you tilt your head back. Dig your temple into stone as if to try and grind your mind back into your body.

You’re wrestled back into yourself, Johnny refusing to let you look anywhere else. You understand why those women described their husbands as animals. Johnny is a huffing beast above you, slavering over you he gives and takes, over and over until you are senseless.

He stills, groans deep in his chest, his forehead resting on your chest, and you feel the twitch and sudden heat of him spending himself inside of you. The fever stills and festers in you, leaving you feeling itchy. Johnny snaps his hips a few more times, then drags it out, lazy as his mouth drools into your skin. Stills inside you, but you feel high-strung, still too tense.

Your hands twitch, fingernails catching against taut skin. Johnny huffs, amused but breathless. “I’ve got you, m’girl, so greedy, eh?”

You have half a mind to protest, he's the one who’s swallowed you whole, not the other way around. But your mouth opens and nothing but a choked whine spills out when his hand drops down to your sex again and works you over.

Still buried so deep, every flex is different like this, Johnny groaning his agreement into your sweaty skin. “Johnny, Johnny, please - !” You beg, legs kicking out as your vision gets blurry, and suddenly your back bows, a sob bursting out. A fresh slick of liquid around Johnny, and he thrusts lightly, half-soft now, whining at the overstimulation of it.

He keeps going until you start to squirm too much, almost launching yourself across the floor and he stops, laughing into the curve of your breast, still half whining to himself. He smooths his hand up your thigh and to the curve of your backside. You can feel the wetness of his fingers, but you feel too dazed to be too embarrassed of it.

“Knew ye’d be so good,” Johnny murmurs, squeezing at your backside. You hum, bone deep exhaustion dragging you down. You lift a hand up and drag it into his hair. He melts, his weight digging you further into the floor.

You become aware of the sopping wet beneath your thighs, wincing as you shift your hips and feel wetness slide down and join the sweat that you have left on the stone. Sweat cools in the divot of your throat, the small of your back, sticking between you and Johnny. The length of his body pressed against you, hard muscle against the soft give of your skin. He seems to like it, a hand squeezing at the give of your arse, the other smoothing over whatever flesh you have left to give him.

“We should get up,” you murmur, your chin on the crown of his head. He huffs like a lazy dog, but after a moment where you think he isn’t going to get up at all, he finally starts to shift with a sigh.

Johnny reaches between your thighs and pulls himself out of you, you wince at the stretch, watch with morbid interest at the white shine left behind, caught in the hair that covers the base of his cock. Johnny is equally as enthralled with what he’s made of your cunt and it’s only when your thighs squeeze shut that he shakes his head and stands. He gives you a firm pat on the backside before he hoists you up, a mean laugh at your squeak. “C’mon, up we go, lassie,” he says, teasing and light. He seems fond now, still a little more harsh than you want him to be, but he nudges his head against yours again, a mimic of how you were as you were joined. “Nothin’ between us, now, ehh?” he adds, blue eyes digging into yours.

His nose nudges against yours, your skin buzzes with the remnants of his touch. There is no stone left unturned, everything split apart under Johnny’s hands. Ripe fruit, ripped open and left to rot.

“Nothing,” you echo, and he smiles like the sun. There is man’s blood on his right hand and you can smell the metal of it when he cups your face and brings his mouth back to yours. A clash of teeth as you bite back even as you are swallowed up.

“Let’s go home,” Johnny murmurs, pulling back with a slick noise as your lips separate. You don’t think you know where that is, but you let him gather your skirts back up to half cover you before he gives you his kilt and fastens it around you. Damning, to wear the red of the Mactavish clan. The final nail in this coffin, solidifying who you are now.

Cerberus is outside, pawing at the ground and snapping his teeth at any of the villagers who get too close. Before you are ushered onto the saddle and away, you catch sight of the mare you had been about to escape on. Your bag of your belongings from home sits abandoned in a heap next to the stable. Your spare cloak, your spare shift. The last remnants of home.

It is all swallowed up as Johnny stands in front of you. You let him hoist you up and you curl into him as he slots into place behind you. The world is caught around the edge of Johnny’s shoulder, filtered through into your vision.

Cerberus starts a slow canter back to the Keep, and you dig your forehead into Johnny’s collarbone. Every step takes you further from your land. Johnny’s hand on the curve of your tummy, his chin on the crown of your head. There is a bottomless feeling in your stomach, but Johnny smooths his hand over your belly and catches it in the palm of his hand.

[echoxshxrx]

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Hey guys, I'm Echo! Welcome to my page!

Trans man || he/they || 24 || Wrestling obsessed || 420 friendly || Breakin Backs and Eatin Snacks ||

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