#Goddamn i feel fucking solo
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Insert meme of Ben Affleck looking resigned & depressed while smoking a cig here
#worst fucking weekend. of the year#mouse shit in proximity my mom's sick my dad's like ''oh youre not checking on her? you dont care?''#yeah okay dad i was just on the phone w the nurse for a fucking HOUR & you made fun of me being concerned yesterday! stfu!!!!#my sister finds new & innovative ways to throw me under the bus for walking away from the dinner table after#1. she reminded me of how she thinks she's the Gay Whisperer while also getting Mega Uncomfy at any sign of me being queer#& 2. MOTHERFUCKER YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDNT COOK!!! TF??#& 3. i fucking came back after a minute of walking i just needed a second to process that my sister thinks she's fucking King Shit#of Gay Terminology while peddling cisnorm gender bullshit#man & i had a headache all day!!! & my jaw fucking hurts!!#so eating took me forever and NATURALLY my dad took issue w that#& then took issue when after asking me fifty fucking times 'arent you eating" i had a less than chipper response of#'i am my jaw hurts what [more] do you want from me'#im so so so fucking tired. like this is all bullshit but like#Goddamn i feel fucking solo#mind you all of this after having a panic attack yesterday bc of said mouse shit
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XD
I genuinely don't think I'll actually watch the last Doctor Who episode tbfh. I think I'll just pop my head back in to see what's up when Fifteen actually starts his first full episode.
Lol I've just become too tired of tumblr's Tennant obsession (in the "if I have to see his face in a single gif one more time I'll throw my computer against the wall" manner, not in a "I think he sucks as an actor/person" manner, this is an overexposure issue only) to even care about the last special at all. I'm pretty damn sure I got everything I really needed to know from the online cliff notes anyways lmaoooo.
#if they make a spinoff with goddamn fourteen and donna that steals all the audience from ncuti gatwa as fifteen i will genuinely#fucking throw a brick at the BBC#i'm sure tennant had fun but leave him ALONE#give him an ENDING#please let's just move on#they've already overshadowed poor fifteen with their s4 wank-a-thon excuse of 60 anniversary specials as it is#doctor who critical#jen rambles#wild blue yonder was a banger#and as a solo episode i didn't mind the first one#but i'm just soooo personally weary of this and wish thirteen regenerated right into ncuti gatwa's doctor#which like. this all sucks. bc i hate being negative about doctor who#but i genuinely am Not a Fan of the whole concept of “tennant is back as another doctor”#wasn't a fan when it was announced and the eps didn't convince me#just feels like cheap and lazy pandering to attract audience#instead of taking risks to be new and inventive to attract that audience instead
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Still fucking wild to me that this game decided it was a good idea to have a discount rajang as its first difficulty spike, Jesus fucking christ
#gui plays mhgu#BLANGONGA IS SO FUCKING HARD JFC#it didn't give me issues this time since i came prepared but even still goddamn#still managed to kill me once and took thrice as long as any hub boss so far#i feel so bad for people whose first monhun was this one if they're either ignoring village or doing village and hub together like i am#especially if you're playing solo and can't get people online to help you
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OBSESSED (p. sunghoon) — PART 2
I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX
READ PART 1 HERE — MASTERLIST
pairing: sunghoon x fem reader
includes/warnings (18+): best friend’s ex! au, SMUT (mdni), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't), ANGST, profanity, arguing, broken friendship (sorta) (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 4.3k
synopsis: after sage catches you and sunghoon at the party, things change between all three of you. hidden emotions are unveiled and everyone does something they regret. the real question is...who?
author's note: omg thank you SO much to every person who read part 1! i'm so glad you guys liked it. this is dedicated to everyone who commented/requested for part 2 <3 you guys r all so sweet *hugs n squeezes*. pls look forward to my future works!
OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK
“SUNGHOON?!” both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn’t even get the chance to leave his lips.
holy. fuck. it was sage.
the sound of red solo cup hitting the pavement seemed to echo despite the bass of the party still booming from the house with the silence that fell between all three of you.
you were an absolute deer-in-headlights taking her equally shocked and disgusted expression. she's never looked at you like that.
you and sunghoon instantly push off each other; you flattening down your skirt and he combed through his hair, as if that would help both of your situations right now.
you felt as if you had blood all over your hands at a crime scene. what the fuck?! out of all the boys on the damn planet it had to be him?!
sunghoon. sunghoon. you just made out with park sunghoon. SAGE'S park sunghoon. your best friend's ex.
his name and sage's expression replayed in your mind. you were so. screwed.
you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and it felt difficult to breathe. so much so, you barely heard sunghoon be the first to say something.
"s-sage? h-h-hey uh how have you been? shit that must have been awkward for you to have seen that. jake didn't tell me he invited you..."
sage completely ignored sunghoon's remark, tunnel visioning on you.
"you've GOT to be kidding me y/n..." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slowly approaching you.
you felt like a child who had just been scolded. you wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing came out. despite how close you two were, sage always intimidated you. she could be stubborn and had a short temper, that thankfully you've learned to tame over the past year. but you knew this was beyond anything you could save yourself from.
"l-look sage i-i'm sorry okay, i can explain-"
"shit- wait you two know each other?!" sunghoon interjected. he had no idea what he just got himself into.
sage broke into laughter, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect. "wow this just got FUN didn't it?! let's play a little game. on the count of three, say how you know the person to your left. and it's okay if a word doesn't come to mind."
the last sentence clearly meant for sunghoon.
her tone of voice was honestly scaring you at this point, and you could sense that both you and her were internally reeling at the words that will be spoken into reality.
best friend. ex. .....
you just stood there frozen and sunghoon turned to you, seeing your mortified expression.
even though you and him just met, he already felt protective over you and with how psychotic his ex was acting...he knew things weren't right. he stepped slightly between you and sage, trying to guard you from her piercing gaze.
but she was one step ahead and moved even more to her left so she was still fully in your line of vision.
"what the fuck is going on sage? just answer the goddamn qu-"
sage cut sunghoon off once again, "3..2..1"
"best friend. ex. ....." you and sage responded in unison.
it was silent for just a moment, as you all stared at one another.
"well glad we got THAT out of the way, hope that answered your question hoonie-" you recoiled at her use of the nickname. she was bluffing and it just made you angry at this point.
"how the fuck was i supposed to know he's sunghoon?! i swear on my life you walked by right as i asked his name-" hot tears started to blur your vision.
people walking by were staring and whispering but you couldn't give less of a shit. she scoffed at what she only believed was an excuse.
"oh give. it. up. y/n! you know what, that's the problem with you. you ALWAYS act so innocent and like you're just the shy girl next door. i know you've always been jealous me. so much so you basically fucked my ex aka the first guy you saw at a party. who would have guessed how much of a slut you are."
tears started to run rampant down your cheeks. you couldn't believe sage would say all of this to you. is that how she really felt?
she walked up and leaned down to whisper something in your ear before walking off, the clicking sound of her heeled boots fading.
you just stood there and covered your face, the tears never stopping. you just couldn't look sunghoon or anyone in the eye after how embarrassed and humiliated you felt.
"hey hey... shhh baby it's okay" sunghoon removing your hands from your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. the pet name just rubbed salt in the wound.
he comforted you with soft kisses to your cheeks. he knew you weren't okay, how could you be after all of that? but he didn't quite know else to do or say in this situation.
you shoved him off of you. sage's whispered words ringing in your ears.
"i'm sorry sunghoon, i- i have to go. this was a total mistake-" your hiccuping voice barely getting the words out. you couldn't even look him in the eye and you just wanted to be anywhere else but there.
"wait y/n" he grabbed your wrist before you could run away from him. "look i get it if you never want to see me again after this, but the least i can do is give you a ride home."
your lip quivered as you stared up at him. the way he looked at you was so gentle, a stark contrast to how he looked at sage just a moment ago. it made your heart ache.
usually you would just brush off the offer but you were such a wreck, you knew you were in no state to make it home by yourself.
you just gave him a silent nod and you two walked to sunghoon's car in silence.
the silence persisted throughout the drive, aside from sunghoon asking for your address. sunghoon knew better than to ask questions.
your mind was anything from quiet, sage's whispered words replaying in your mind like a broken record.
"enjoy my sloppy seconds y/n, oh yeah...remember how i told you he said i was the best he's ever had?"
the sound of sunghoon opening his car door being the only thing snapping you out of your daze. he circled the car and opened your door for you.
"it's pretty late so i'll walk you to your door?"
'what a gentlemen' you thought. you felt like you were cinderella and he was your prince. but this was no fairytale.
you walked up the stairs, sunghoon trailing behind you. you stared at the faded blue paint of your apartment and turned around to part ways with sunghoon.
"thanks uh- for the ride. i'm sorry the night turned out like this-"
"i'm sorry about what sage said to you. she was hella out of line calling you those things..." you cringed at the memory. "...but what was the last thing she said to you?" you knew he was referring to what she whispered to you before she walked off.
you could not look him in the eye and tell him.
"she just told me to never text her again" you were sure your performance was convincing.
"y/n, please. tell me what she said. i know sage. i don't know what your guys' friendship's like, but if it's anything like while her and i were dating, she chooses her words wisely. she knows exactly what to say—especially if it's to hurt you."
shit, he read you like a book. you knew sage too. and you knew she would never lie or keep a secret from you—what she said must have been true.
"don't worry, that's what she said to me, promise."
he could tell you were lying, but you've been through enough in one night—he didn't want to cause a fuss.
"okay, just making sure" he huffed out a defeated sigh. "like i said, i get it if you never want to see again. but here's my number. i live only about a 5 minute drive from here so just in case you need anything or if anything with sage comes up, just gimme a call."
you stared down at his phone, contemplating for a few moments, but you eventually comply. a faint smile creeps on sunghoon's lips.
"for what it's worth y/n...i don't think tonight was a mistake. you made that party a hell of a lot more fun..." he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.
you couldn't bring yourself to quite say the same to him, so you just gave him a soft smile.
"thanks again sunghoon, goodnight."
you entered you apartment and made your way to your couch. you laid down and the threw your arm over your face, feeling tears threatening to fall once again.
you just curled up and drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to change your clothes or get ready for bed.
the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought of sleep.
you woke up the next morning (much to your dismay) and barely made it through the day.
you and sage have never fought like this. you both swore to never let something as stupid as a boy get between you two. so many questions swirled in your head.
is that really how sage felt about you all this time?
you get why she's pissed, but is she not even willing to hear you out?
is she willing to let go of your guys' friendship that fast?
you filled your day cleaning your apartment and running way too many errands—being busy always helped you in times of stress. eventually the sun was setting through the blinds covering your bedroom window.
you had no idea how to handle this entire thing. and it was something you certainly didn't want to deal with alone.
you stare down at your phone biting the inside of your lip, your finger hovering over screen.
you knew this could make things that much more complicated, but you needed someone talk to.
calling 'park sunghoon'....
after a few rings, he finally picked up. your heart was beating out of your chest.
"hey, may i ask who's calling?"
"h-hi s-sunghoon, it's y'n"
there was a pause. you were cringing at yourself for stuttering so much, little did you know sunghoon was smiling like an idiot from the other end.
"hey y/n, didn't think you'd actually call...wait did something happen? did sage do anything to you?" concern suddenly lacing his tone.
"no not all. i was just calling to talk, i'm just super stressed about all of this..."
he let out sigh of relief, he thought you could have been hurt.
"aw i'm sorry, yeah that makes sense. did you want to talk in person? i can come over."
"yeah, that'd actually be great, thanks." you heard the sound of him picking up his keys.
"of course, i'll be there 5"
you open your front door after hearing a few soft knocks. you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight front of you.
sunghoon wore a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and glasses. a simple outfit but oh was it effective. you had to refrain from jumping on him right then and there.
"h-hey, thanks for coming over. sorry it was so late minute. please come in" you stepping aside and guiding him inside your apartment.
"yeah no problem. no need to apologize y/n, i was the one who offered to talk in person"
you just let out a soft laugh in response, cringing at your over-apologetic tendencies.
sunghoon smiled quietly watched you, finding it absolutely adorable how cute you were trying to be a good host. despite him being the one asking to come over and you two doing not so innocent things just the previous night.
you sit next to sunghoon on the couch. he scanned around your apartment, taking in all of your cute decor and trinkets.
"your apartment is so...cute. never would have guessed based on how you were acting last night" he smirked, teasing you.
you felt flustered as you felt your cheeks heat up.
"oh thanks" you looked down at your feet feeling shy. "yeah honestly i never really do that kinda thing at parties but i don't know, guess last night was different".
different he thought.
he just hummed in acknowledgment as a comfortable silence fell between you. it felt as if you both sucked in a breath in unison.
"y/n-"
"i-"
he speaks first, "of course you can rant to me about however you're feeling, but after thinking it over, i don't think you're in the wrong here y/n."
"she's my best friend sunghoon. and you're her ex boyfriend. is that not the first rule of girl code? i'm sure same thing applies to guys."
"okay sure i guess..." he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words "but sage and i broke up over a year ago. whatever we had, it's long gone. and unless she has lingering feelings for me, which i can tell she certainly doesn't, she should be more mature about this"
you nod silently, agree with everything he was saying.
"...and i know you were telling the truth when you told you had no idea it was me. because she quite literally was passing by as you asked for my name. so i genuinely think you did nothing wrong here"
"yeah that's true i guess" there's a pause as you take in his words.
"can i tell you what sage actually said to me last night?" you felt comfortable enough with him now to tell him and now were just more curious more than anything if what sage said was true.
"sage told me that you said she was the best you've ever had and i can enjoy her 'sloppy seconds'" you air-quoted the last two words with your fingers.
sunghoon's silence made your heart pound even faster. was it actually true? if so, this just made you even more embarrassed.
he eventually just scoffed which turned into a breathy laugh.
"oh man, sage sure is funny." he shakes his head at what you assume is disbelief. "i'm not sure if she got me mixed up with another park sunghoon, but i never said that."
you felt a huge weight was taken off your chest. sunghoon caught your sigh of relief.
"i'll be honest though, sage and i dated for a good amount of time, but i mean clearly we broke up for a reason. and i cannot stress enough that i do not have feelings for her at all. especially not after meeting you."
he puts his large palm on your knee, rubbing it soothingly.
you look down at the comforting gesture, a single tear falls down onto the back of his hand.
what the hell, why were you crying? sure, you were stressed about the situation but you didn't think it made upset enough to make you cry.
you had been beating yourself up about all of this since sage said those harsh words to you. you had started to believe that maybe what she said was true and that an ordinary girl like you had no business with a guy as like sunghoon. feelings of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt were eating you alive.
but after hearing sunghoon be in your corner, him saying you did nothing wrong, and finding out sage made up what she said somehow made you feel forgiven.
the small salty puddle on sunghoon's hand surprised you just as much as it did him.
he turns to meet your eyes, making you look at him "hey, what's wrong?" he pouts at your misty eyes, wiping the second stray tear before it could fall on your cheek.
"i-i'm sorry i don't even know why i'm crying. this whole thing was taking a bigger toll on me than i thought. just thank yo-"
he couldn't resist and crashes his lips into yours. his hand coming cradle the side of your face.
you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly. you surrendered to him quickly though, not realizing how much you missed the taste of his lips. he deepend the kiss, his hand creeping up to thread through the hair at your nape neck, pulling slightly.
you let out a soft moan at the feeling, your parted lips leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip is tongue into your mouth.
the sound of your lips smacking and heavy breathing filled the room. the heavy makeout eventually left you breathless. he pulled away but you still chased his lips.
he rested his forehead against yours signaling you he needed a breather. the eye contact and tension felt suffocating—the way you looked at him made his heart burst. your eyes were shiny were so shiny and wide, anticipating his next move. your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. your tank top and cotton shorts made his mind run wild. but he wanted to explore what was underneath.
he reached to remove your tank top and bra, and your shorts not long after leaving you in just your panties. he took off his shirt and hoodie, leaving him in just his sweats. the sight alone made you soaked through your panties.
he took in the sight on your almost bare figure on top of his, reaching to grope and feel your body. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting the same sensitive spots he remembered from last night "you drive me fucking crazy y/n" he whispered against your skin.
his lips wandered down from your neck to your chest eventually taking a nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his hot tongue driving your desire for even into oblivion. he made sure to attend to the other one by pinching it with his other hand.
"f-fuck s-sunghoon..."
you began to grind on him, feeling his dick already hard through his sweatpants. his veiny hands wandered to the flesh of your outer thighs and hips, gripping your skin tightly savoring the feeling of your skin against his.
you pressed harder against him, finding the right rhythm of your hips on his, making him throw his head back, his eyes rolling slightly. the delicious sensation of your grinding his boner making him bite his lip staring at you. he crossed his arms behind his head, making his defined muscular arms even more prominent in the dim lighting of the room.
"yeah, grind on that dick baby, feel how hard i am for you?... see what you do to me?" his voice lower than normal, laced with nothing but lust.
"p-please..." you whined, his words making you work your hips even more fervently against his.
understanding your plea, he guided your back to lay flat on the couch climbing on top you, his arms on both sides of your head. the cold metal his delicate silver chain grazed the skin of your chest and neck, contrasting your hot skin.
you pulled him by the chain to kiss you again, your hands feeling his chest and biceps. his hands felt up your body once again, taking in every curve and dip from your breast to your hips, eventually playing with the hem on your panties.
"may i, sweetheart?" god, was he trying to make you fall in love with him?
you gave him a nod biting your lip. he slowly pulled your lace panties down your legs, creating a string of sticky arousal. you had never been so turned on in your life.
his fingertips ghosting the skin of your thighs, eyeing your bare body under his. you started to suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze, hiding your face in your arm and closing your thighs.
he gently pulled your arm away and tapped your knees to part your legs.
"don't hide baby, i wanna see your face, you're so beautiful...fuck you're so wet... all for me?"
"mhm...all for you- oh fuck" you breathily moaned as his fingers circled your clit, spreading your arousal. the feeling of his fingertips alone had your head spinning. he slowly inserted his fingers into your core, your walls sucking them in.
"jesus princess, you're so tight" he groaned as thrusts his fingers languidly, your juices starting to drip onto his palm. the squelching noise echoed in the room as you squirmed beneath him.
with the way that your back was arching and your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close. "you close sweetheart? wanna come all over my fingers?"
"fuck, yes please! your fingers feel so good. i- i wanna come" you whined desperately. his fingers speeding up as his thumb expertly rubbed your clit.
"such a good girl. come for me" a few more rubs from his fingers as your walls spasmed around him.
when he finally pulled his fingers out, you whined at the suddenly empty feeling. he kissed you once again, finding you all too adorable. "you did so good for me baby, ready for my dick?"
"please sunghoon, i need you" he pulled away taking off his sweats and boxers. the sight of his perfect cock made your mouth water: it was so hard, veiny, and red. his size making you question if he would fit in you.
he quickly climbed on top of you again, giving your cheek and neck light kisses while rubbing his cock through your folds, wetting his dick. when his tip grazed your clit you couldn't help but mewl at the feeling, your hands threading through his hair.
"fuck, please put in" you begged shamelessly. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he let you adjust to his size before thrusting slowly but deeply.
"s-shit you're so fucking tight y/n fuck" he groaned into your neck, leaving love bites. his could feel every vein of his dick and the fullness felt so good. so right.
his hands wandered to the small of your back, making you arch into him making him hit your g-spot. you nearly screamed into his neck at the feeling. his rhythm started to falter, your kisses getting messier and you were nearing your highs.
"s-sunghoon, please i'm c-close" you said in between whines and moans.
"fuck, me too sweetheart" he has never finished so damn fast during sex before but your pussy felt like it was made for him. he rubbed your clit once again, wanting nothing more than to give you the most pleasure possible.
"come on, be a good girl and come for me. cream all over my cock baby... you're better than she ever was". his words making the knot snap in your build up of euphoria. you moaned loudly a mixture of curses and his name, waves of pleasure washing over you.
sunghoon finished not long after, pulling out and fisting his dick to cum all over your stomach and thighs—making you his. he looked down at the sight beneath him and he never wanted to look away.
your head thrown back and jaw slack, your cheeks still flushed. your heavy breathing and still sensitive body twitching. he rubbed your clit to prolong your high until you pushed his hand away, feeling overstimulated.
sunghoon leaned down to give soft kisses to your lips and forehead, before running to the kitchen to grab a paper towel wet with some warm water to clean you up.
the way was gently wiping your skin, leaving kisses here and there made your heart ache.
"hoon..." his eyes immediately meeting yours at the pet name, his heart skipping a beat. "...can you stay the night?"
he smiled and pecked your lips, "i thought you'd never ask"
sage eventually reached out to you 2 weeks after jake's party and you two made amends. she apologized for what she said and acknowledged that things will probably never be the same with you two, but still wishes you and sunghoon the best.
"so, how did the call with sage go?" sunghoon asked from your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. you and sunghoon continued to hangout almost every day since that first night, and the more you go to know him, the harder you fell.
you two started to grow so close that could tell what he was thinking and he didn't even have to say anything.
"well, things for sure will never be the same between us that's for sure, but i think we both got closure from all of this." you said with a sigh.
he walked over to you silently, his hair down and slightly messy from sleep. his fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug and his lips smacking together making the 'tsk' they always do when he's about to say something but holds back.
"did you wanna tell me something?" you gestured him to come closer to you. you put your hands around his neck and he put his around your waist. you leaned your forehead up to his and his lips quirked up on the side.
"y/n, will you go on a date with me?" you couldn't hold back a smile as you kissed him passionately.
who would have guessed you could be so obsessed with your best friend's ex?
taglist: @luv-jungwon106 @gudkc @gyuoonz
ramblings: literally had a fever writing the second half lol pls tell me if this is bad bc i cannot even tell also this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if it just wasn't smexy at all ahHH
+ (also sage is actively the worst in this part lol, she is saur annoying and lowkey crazy)
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!
#enhypen#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen blog#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen fic#enhypen ff#enhypen fanfiction#park sunghoon#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#enha imagines#enha x reader#enha#enha sunghoon#sunghoon smut#park sunghoon smut#enhypen smut
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♡pink satin - minho
Bf! Minho solo x afab reader ☕|m.list
warnings: masturbation, pillow fucking, slight angst, slight degradation
Minho was bored. And not just the basic boredom that comes with a dull day. No, Minho was excruciatingly, unapologetically, desperately bored. He stared at the ceiling and contemplated calling you. The fight between the two of you was still fresh and new. New enough that he knew better than to try to contact you. The argument was over something petty. Minho knew he should have already apologized by now, but he was stubborn. Almost as stubborn as you were.
He drug his hands down over his face and let out an exacerbated sigh. His head fell to the side and he saw your pillow laying next to him. Pink satin pillowcase. Such a princess, he thought.
Minho took one hand to the pillow and gripped it softly, just how you liked it. He missed you. He missed your smell, he missed your taste. God, he even missed the way you yelled at him. Something about your voice hitched up to a higher tone made the blood rush to his dick every time.
“You’re turned on by this?! We’re fighting!” you’d say. And Minho would respond with a smug can’t help it, babe.
Which was the truth, he really couldn’t help it. The was you’d look when you’re flustered, your face turning red, biting your lip in frustration. You just looked so goddamn cute, he was powerless against you
Minho turned on his side and continued to stroke the soft satin. The gentle fabric against his fingertips caused a sudden pulse in his boxer shorts. He glanced down at his groin, the back at the pillow next to him. He shrugged and let out a firm what the hell? before propping himself up on his knees, already pulling down his boxer shorts just enough that his semi-hard shaft starting to push its way out. He strongly tugged at the silk lined pillow and positioned it in between his open thighs. He lifted himself up just enough to tuck the pillow halfway beneath him.
Minho smirked at the sight of your soft, pink pillow underneath his cock and balls. This certainly wasn't his first time grinding onto something smooth and plush like this. This was, however, the first time he had ever used something of yours. What would you think of him? What if you came home right now and saw him in such a predicament? The thought drove him wild. He threw his head back and began to move his hips back and forth at a slow and even pace. Lazily he let his ever-growing cock slide across the supple fabric of the pillow. His tip began to tingle and leak but Minho continued his pace, unhurried.
But soon the listless pace became too much and he could feel the heat from inside urging him to push harder, to go deeper. Minho bucked his hips and sprang into a rutting motion. His body launched into a rhythm that he no longer had control over. His mind was taking a backseat to what his cock wanted to do. His body jerked forward and both his hands gripped the pillow for more leverage. Grunts and groans were bouncing off the walls of the bedroom you shared as Minho began to reach his climax.
Take it. Take it. Yes, like that. Come on, princess, I know you can do it. Take. it. All.
Minho moaned under his breath. The words like a mantra as he persisted, his hips fully rutting and crushing into the mattress now.
His orgasm poured out of him mercilessly. The pink satin now drenched in the mess he had made. Minho fell back onto the mattress and let out a sigh of relief. He chuckled to himself at how out of control he had gotten over a simple pillow. Then he saw the stained mess he had left.
“I’ll buy them a new one.”
taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121
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Don't Leave - Roman Reigns/Female!Reader
Summary: Immediately after his devastating loss to his cousins Jimmy and Jey at Money In The Bank, Roman finds you in the back as he looks for an outlet for all of this newfound pent-up energy…but this may lead to something else as well.
Word Count: 14,197 (jfc that's more than I expected)
Warnings: degradation, choking/throat squeezing, biting/marking, hair pulling, spanking, oral (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), edging (for both parties involved), unprotected P in V action (please be safe and wrap it before you tap it irl tho), Roman being his Tribal Chief self (because that’s a warning all on its own), a bit of manhandling here and there as well….y’know, the works :3
A/N: All of this comes from three connecting factors: 1) Roman being the sexy ass WHORE that he is, 2) my own brain finally starting to work in tandem with my damn writing fingers, and 3) an all-caps DM from @stargazerofgoldenwords demanding that I write this so full partial blame goes to her. So here y’all go…for the bitches and the bros and for all the non-binary hoes ^3^ (I also haven’t written a full-fledged smut in I believe over three years so….I hope I did good lol)
Oh, no.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
This…This can not be happening.
How is this even possible? What’s going to happen now?
These thoughts and more rush through your mind as you stand board stiff in the back, your eyes seeming to be permanently glued to the large monitor in front of you while gasps and cheers from the remainder of the locker room fill your ears alongside the blaring bass of The Usos’ theme.
Roman told you to stay in the back for a reason, to only come out after he’d won and embarrassed the hell out of his cousins for ever turning their backs on him, so he could make examples out of them as a reason to never and not turn your back on the Tribal Chief.
He wanted them to remember this night, to remember the ache in their bones, the wear and tear of their joints as he slammed them against the mat over and over again, the blood and sweat staining their skin as he and Solo dug into the twins with everything they had left within them.
They would learn their lesson tonight, and they would learn it well: you do not mess with the Tribal Chief because if you do, you will feel a pain that you have never known before.
He was going to show everyone why he and he alone was the head of the table, why he was unstoppable, and why only those who followed him and his lead would prosper in the end.
But, none of that actually mattered in the end, not as you stand staring at the monitor, hands covering your mouth in shock.
They…They did it.
They actually managed to do it.
Jey pinned Roman, pinned him for the first time in over three fucking years.
Blow after blow to the foundation of The Bloodline, week after week from the cracks being exposed to Sami’s turn at the Royal Rumble that set everything in motion to the goddamn explosion that occurred during Roman and Solo’s Night of Champions match.
After all this time, The Usos finally got one over on the Tribal Chief, they won the Bloodline civil war.
They beat the Tribal Chief, destroyed his so-called “Island of Relevancy”, showed the world that he is still just a man and can be beaten just like the rest of them. Roman Reigns is not as invincible as he claims to be!...
….but Roman?
Roman is pissed.
You can see it all processing in his eyes in real time, all of the noise around you fading into the background along with the roaring cheers from the London crowd: his loss, being pinned, the fact that despite being a champion he has lost his stance, his placement at the head of the table.
Because what use is there of an Island of Relevancy if you’re the only one standing on it?
Your hands drop from your mouth and fall to your sides; how the hell…? What the hell is happening? Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as those around you celebrate his demise, hands clapping shoulders and drinks beginning to be passed around as the show draws to a close.
You can practically see the floor falling out beneath Roman’s feet as he slides out of the ring, dejected and defeated with a raging inferno blazing bright and hot behind those fierce eyes of his; his entire world, perfectly constructed with seemingly no flaws whatsoever, has shattered in front of his very eyes.
Rage twisted and contorted Roman’s facial features into something unrecognizable as he sat on the floor ringside, kicking his feet and screaming his anger out into the universe like a temperamental child. Baring his teeth, hissing and gnashing his jaw like an uncaged animal…
Frankly, it scared the shit out of you to see live.
He’s shaking, actually shaking with all of the hate and virtiol that courses through his very veins. The bright lights of the arena, hot and beaming down on his skin? The way his hair sticks to the sides of his face and the heavy furrow in his brow? The way his entire body aches from the brutal punishment of the match?
None of that matters now. None of it will ever matter now.
His anger, his regret, his disappointment with himself as he comes to terms with the true loss of yet another faction of his, people who he loved and cared for turning their backs on him again…his mind was a maelstrom as he gripped his face and pulled at his temple, and not even the pain from that could distract him from the truth in front of his very eyes.
His own family, his own blood, has betrayed him, the image of Jimmy and Jey standing above him displaying on every and all of the large screens inside the arena. His heart pounds in his chest and hs blood boils; they can’t just get away with this. They will pay for their crimes against him, against their family, against their Bloodline!
The blood, the sweat, the tears and the pain he had poured into their family, all the work that he had put in to make sure that they all ate, that they all got opportunity after opportunity after opportunity….all for nothing.
You watch as Solo picks himself up from the floor and stumbles his way over to Roman, Paul’s face a complete mess and whirlwind of emotions as he rushes over with Roman’s smorgasbord of titles cradled like infants within his arms. You can barely hear what the latter is saying to the Tribal Chief over the cheers of The Usos’ celebrating and their theme blaring through the speakers, but it’s most likely some sort of consolation and a promise of revenge due to the bright red of the shorter man’s face.
Even after all of this, after everything that these men have just gone through, Jimmy still attempts to reach out to comfort Roman as he sits ringside on the floor, you watching as Jey pulls him back to his own side; Roman is a lost cause to them now. In their eyes, they’ve destroyed his corrupted faction, they’ve cut off the hydra’s heads, and now?
Now, they’re done with him, with all things Bloodline-related as the descend back into being “the ones”.
They are the new Tribal Chiefs around these parts, not Roman.
Not anymore.
After what feels like an eternity of the fallen party sitting in stasis outside of the ring, they all stand, Roman wrapping an arm around his midsection and another hand around his shoulder as they all walk backwards back up the long runway.
His eyes stay locked onto his cousins as the camera pans from him to them and back again, Solo’s eyes filled with an incoming storm and Paul’s lips seeming to move at a mile a minute with how quickly he seems to throw insults the way of The Usos.
But the two in the ring just smile.
They smile and embrace each other after a hard won victory as the entire WWE Universe embraces them as well, and all that does is piss Roman off even more.
Your body somehow finds the will to move, your feet ungluing themselves from the floor beheath them before you begin to move your way through the small crowd of those watching from the back.
You tear your eyes away from the monitor you were watching and beeline it straight to the guerilla position where they’re set to return, and you can still hear the thunderous cheers coming from the fans as Jimmy and Jey continue to celebrate the fall of the Tribal Chief. Maneuvering your way through throngs of people, past production, past *everything*...you have to find him.
You have to find him, and fast.
It’s like your feet barely even graze the ground with how fast you walk, the light tapping of your heels echoing off the walls around you as you make your way closer and closer to Roman and…oh.
You can just barely see him over the heads and past the shoulders of the cameramen, the interviewers waving their mics in their faces, over the glinting bald heads of Pearce and Hunter that’re shining with sweat as they attempt to get a word in with Roman before they try to rush him in the direction of where the press conference is being held…but it’s as though he doesn’t see any of them, his eyes dark and filled to the brim with something nasty.
You’re not even the prime target of his glare, steel-cut and piercing all that come across it, and even you feel the brunt of it, shivering where you stand behind the cloud of people vying for his attention as he moves his way through them. For the reporters and the interviewers, their mics in shaking hands as cameras flash in his face, all of their questions die on their tongues the second his eyes sweep over them.
“Roman. Roman!” you hear Pearce call out to him, Hunter, Solo, and Heyman in tow close to his heels. “Damn it, Roman, listen to me!”
“We need to get you out there, Reigns. Just give a quick statement about the match, about The Usos, and then-”
Pearce and Hunter’s requests fall on deaf ears as you move to the side, the crowd of people following Roman’s path as he walks down one of the arena’s large halls.
“Excuse you, Hunter? Did you not just see the utter and complete farce that was the match our Tribal Chief just had?! There will be no statement to be made, and no appearance at any press conference shall be had unless it involves the absolute dismissal of what was clearly a farce of a loss!”
Paul’s demands make his face grow a bright red as he follows Roman, clutching his titles as his head seems to grow three sizes from the fury written across his face. “Jimmy and Jey, they’re cheaters! Conmen who have embarrassed your Tribal Chief in front of millions of people time and time again! We demand retribution! A rematch to set things right again! Do you know how much Roman Reigns has brought to this company? How much prestige he’s brought to these titles, to these championships?”
Paul jostles the titles in question in his arms, brows furrowed and steam practically pouring out of his ears. “This is an outrage! This is a scam! You two should be ashamed of yourselves for even allowing this to happen to a force like Roman Reigns-”
His incessant, constant stream of words and potential curses are paused by Solo’s hand slamming into his chest, Heyman’s eyes going wide as his mouth falls open before quickly closing it and stepping back to Roman’s side.
Roman pauses his stride, eyeing Hunter and Pearce so viciously that you yourself are shrinking into your own skin; he very clearly doesn’t want to be bothered right now, so why even try to ask him of anything at all?
The look he gives both men, the silent communications that occur between them seems to be more than enough for them to back off in their pursuits, stepping out of his way as their phones begin to ring constantly.
“We have to get some sort of response out of him, right? I mean, he’s the champion right now, we can’t just let him leave-”
“Let him cool off for a second, Pearce,” Hunter tells him, running a hand over his own stressed face. “He’s in no mood for any of that right about now.”
Roman continues to shove past and maneuver around those in his way, his steps as loud and threatening as his demeanor. Through and through, seconds by seconds that seem to stretch on forever until his eyes finally, finally gloss over your figure leaning on a nearby wall, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your mind begins to turn.
And the very second that his gaze locks onto yours, time slows to a screeching halt.
There’s something in there that you rarely saw in him before, but that you’ve been seeing a lot more of recently.
That anger, that frustration, all of that adrenaline mixed all that hate and vitriol coursing through his veins…he needed to get all of it out, every last drop before he makes another misstep.
He needs you.
Shouldering his way past various sports reporters and camera people, he quickly makes his way across the hallway to you, his large figure towering over you as you begin to shrink further and further against the wall. He’s panting, partly from the resulting emotions following his match and partly from how rough the match in question ran his body.
His hand finds your wrist, gripping it tightly and without a single word from him, he pulls you from the wall and begins to walk away again, Solo and Heyman striding behind him while the media frenzy behind you all follows along.
“Roman, wait-”
He turns his head to the side and makes eye contact with you again, the look in his eyes telling you everything you need to know.
Not now.
All the words you were going to say fall right back down your throat and you gulp, the intensity in his eyes making your knees weak as you try your best to keep up with his pace. It doesn’t take long for your group to head back to his larger-than-anyone-else’s locker room, Solo being the last one inside as he shuts everyone else out besides himself, Heyman, you and Roman.
Paul quickly sets the championship belts aside on a nearby table while Roman runs a hand through his hair, running a hand over his face before taking a seat on one of the benches.
It’s quiet in here, all too quiet albeit for the clamoring noise outside…and this silence does not make you feel hopeful at all.
You all just…sit in that silence for a few minutes, stewing in it as the reality of what had just occurred mere moments ago finally sinks in for all parties involved.
“Wise man…”
All eyes fall to Roman as he stands to his full height, the sound of his voice booming like a lightning strike. This is the first time he’s spoken anything since initially leaving that ring. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?” Paul asks, somewhat shaken still.
“Leave us.”
That seems to garner a reaction from Heyman, the shorter man wringing his hands in front of him before clasping them together. “But…But, my Tribal Chief, we need to deliberate, come up with a plan for this Friday night on Smackdown! We need to strategize, to concoct a plan for how we’re going to deal with those nuisances that are The Usos…we cannot just-”
“I said, leave us. Or do I have to ask you again, Paul?”
His words send a stream of ice down Heyman’s spine, causing the man to stand upright as Roman turns to face him. His aura, what he radiates from within…you do not want to find yourself on the other end of that; it feels like a wall slamming into you at mach 10, wrapping its edges around you until you’re damn near suffocating in it.
“I…I understand, my Tribal Chief. I will leave you two to yourselves.” Paul bows out when he says this, his eyes flickering to the ground and away from Roman’s face before standing and quickly waddling back towards the locker room door, opening it to a barrage of sports media and cameras all vying for the chance to ask Roman even one question.
“The Tribal Chief will not be taking anymore of your unimportant questions at this time as he begins to take his rest after his extraordinary showing in tonight’s match. All questions, comments, and concerns shall only go through the Tribal Chief’s wise man - that being myself - and I shall relay them back to the Tribal Chief in due time. Thank you, and good evening to you all.”
Heyman’s words just spark another wave of noise from the now growing crowd of individuals at Roman’s door while Roman looks on at Solo who stands in the corner by the door, looking on at the onslaught with a scowl permanently tattooed onto his face and his arms crossed over his chest.
Roman nods at Solo, jutting his chin towards the door in a silent request for him to leave and luckily, the other man follows his order without another word, though you doubt he would have spoken otherwise. He throws a look in your direction, but not one of malice; this one has more…hurt lingering within it, a nature of distraught that you’ve never seen within him before he takes his leave after Heyman and slams the locker room door behind him…
…which leaves you alone, finally alone, with the unhinged beast that is Roman Reigns.
Being in a space with Roman Reigns, you can feel how much of himself fills it: his aura, his stance, his voice, his demeanor…no matter how big or small a room, you can damn well tell that Roman’s in there. You could practically sense it in the air when he arrives, hairs rising on your firearms as all around you grow silent. However, as long as you are not his prime target, you will most likely walk out of that room unscathed - emphasis on most likely.
But being alone in a space with Roman Reigns?
All of those feelings? All of those senses get hiked up to an eleven, the very room that the person is in feeling as though it’s shrinking around them as it seemingly pushes them closer and closer together.
And you, right now, are that poor soul in question.
Your hands grip the hem of the shirt you’re wearing - his shirt, the one that he gave to you and told you to wear once you were supposed to come out after the match was over…after he was supposed to win - nervously, your eyes falling to the floor and sticking to the shoes that you wear.
You see Roman’s feet walking towards you before they pause, then moving in the opposite direction as they head towards the locker room door as well…only this time, your heart rate rockets straight to the moon once you hear the sharp clicking of the door’s lock turning, that noise bouncing off the walls of your mind like an echoing cavern.
The silence in the room is unbearable with a tension so thick, you can cut right through it with Roman’s steely gaze. It’s all too warm, too stuffy, too suffocating while you stand there, your teeth making a home in your bottom lip as you shift from foot to foot.
What do you say to him? What do you say at all? Do you commend him on a match well performed? Do you take Heyman’s route and curse Jimmy and Jey’s names until the breath runs clean from your lungs and you’re all hot in the face as well? Do you take Solo’s approach to things and just say…nothing? Nothing at all?
What can you possibly do to even try to rectify things for him? Make things any better than they are at this moment in time?
All of these questions and more surround your brain and hold it hostage, unable to think of anything else. Is there anything that you can do to make him feel better? You’re supposed to be his, his girl…but with something as monumentally damaging to him as tonight was, so is there anything that you can do?
You don’t even notice him making his way towards you until he’s almost directly in front of you, watching your every movement like an unbound predator stalking its oblivious prey. The room around you grows way too hot way too fast as he continues to move your way, his footsteps soft yet booming as loudly in your ears as your own heartbeat.
As he takes one step forward towards you, you take an equal one back. One step forward, one step back.
One forward, one back, and this little game of yours goes on and on and on until you’re cornered up against the furthest wall, Roman’s hands pressing against the wall at the sides of your face. His chest nearly touches yours in the process and its rise and fall nearly matches the way your own does but you hold your breath and pray to the gods.
For what, you wonder?
For solace? For comfort? For a way out from his grasp, or a way to sink further beneath it? Space to breathe or to suffocate in all that is Roman Reigns? Entirely everything from him and absolutely nothing of him all at once? You don’t even know for sure but unfortunately, those prayers are left unheard and unanswered.
You hear him call your name, the syllables he speaks wrapped in a depth that twists and turns your very core. He doesn’t have to say much to grab your attention, after all.
“Look at me.”
But, can you? Can you really?
You can’t even bring yourself to do that, lest you wish to crumble beneath his unwavering gaze.
However, Roman is not one to take no for an answer; he never really has, especially nowadays. So when he speaks to you again, the very atmosphere of the locker room seems to shift and change under his words, underneath the dominance that is just solely and utterly him.
“I said, look at me.”
His fingers are suddenly underneath your chin, thumb and forefinger gripping it with just enough force to pull a strained noise from the back of your throat as he forcefully tilts your chin up so that you have to look up at him.
The soft gasp that you let out when you finally look up at him, into those dangerous eyes of his…you can see what it does to him by the roll of his shoulders as he stands to his full height, towering above you so much so that the too-bright lights that illuminate the locker room get blocked out.
You didn’t really get the chance to truly look at him through the monitor you were watching the match from and not even as he stampeded his way through the throngs of people all vying for his attention…but now?
Right here, in this moment, any and all words you could have possibly said to him evaporate on your tongue as your feet remain glued to the floor, your pulse thrumming through your entire body.
The wide panes of his chest stretch with each and every deep breath that he takes, his heart beating so damn loud that it fills the room and suffocates all other noise besides it. You feel the leather of his glove brushing against your chin where it wraps around his fingers, the force behind his grip being just strong enough to let you know not to mess with him.
Roman’s entire form from the waist up glistens with sweat and you can already see the soon-to-be bruises on his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his abdomen already begin to show.
His eyes are dark, darker than they have ever been before as he towers above you, slightly panting while his aura threatens to swallow you whole. There’s an obvious anger lingering within them, the deep-set betrayal and agony over losing his family and his undefeated streak finally sinking in along with the newfound uncertainty of the future to come…but there’s something else there in those eyes of him, something that makes sweat bead out along your brow and has your thighs clenching together as you dig your teeth into your lip so hair that it nearly bleeds.
Something more.
Roman sees this, what he does to you, and has to resist the urge to crack a smirk; you’re so easy to toy with. He can barely say a word to you, can just look at you only to have you a trembling, whimpering mess before him.
It’s reasons like these that drives his need for you so through the roof, and tonight means no different to him at all.
Just as he thought, you let out a whimper when you meet his eyes, your body threatening to go limp in his hold. His presence is just so much and it does so much more to you than you’re ever willing to say, but you absolutely love it either way.
You don’t notice him beginning to lean in closer to your own face, too stunned to even think of moving before he’s all that you can possibly see, his hair almost framing your own face as he tilts his head slightly to the side.
You can feel the warmth of his breath as it fans out over your face, spicy and hot and smelling of the cinnamon gum you saw him chewing earlier in the day. He tilts your face in the opposite direction, sighing as his eyes leave yours before he leans forward to press his face against the crook of your neck, burying his nose against the skin while the hand that remains on the wall curls into a fist.
Another gasp leaves your throat when he steps forward again, your hands unchelching themselves from where they rest at the hem of your - his - shirt as his chest presses against yours, warm and built and smothering in all the right places. When you raise your arms up from your sides to run your fingertips up his chest, over his shoulders, over his forearms, you can feel him just barely shiver beneath your touch.
His body calls out for you just as yours does him, and you can feel the buzz of all the energy still coursing through him, driving him up the wall as he leans further into your touch. And when you flatten your hands against his skin, the groan that he lets out rolls through our entire body, his chest vibrating against yours.
You feel him moving against your neck and you stretch further to the side to give him room, his lips forming into words that he wouldn’t dare say aloud with others nearby as his gloved hand moves from your chin to grip the base of your neck.
You know what this is, you know what this means; you’ve been here in this position before with him, especially much more recently with all of this newfound familial drama that’s dropped itself at the other end of his table.
With the seemingly endless amounts of adrenaline crawling beneath his skin, the cinching, tight feeling of his skin and the burning sensation that bubbles deep within his core, it’s no wonder why he’s cornered you like this, why he’s closing in on you, why he’s so bent on draping you in him.
I need you, baby, please.
Those spoken yet unspoken words he uttered into your skin make your eyes widen as a similar heat begins to spark within your own core, Roman trapping your leg between his own and pressing his cock against your thigh. It makes your skin crawl in the best ways possible, what he does to you, the anticipation mixed with everything that he just is making your mind hazy.
Your hands rise from his shoulders up the base of his neck, curving further up towards his hair before wrapping your fingers through it and gently pulling his head back up to face you, your eyes meeting his once more (how the hell did they manage to get even darker?).
Despite the fear that runs through your veins, despite your hands being in his hair and on his skin as you lead him towards you, he’s still the boss around here.
Roman still calls all the shots, no matter who or what stands before him - including you.
And even despite that as well, your body still wants him just as much as he wants yours.
It’s not even a want anymore; your body needs him, it desires him.
As for Roman, your body, your comfort calls out to him like a siren’s song, wanting him to pull you deeper and deeper into whatever’s going on within his own head until your entire body knows nothing but him, nothing but your Tribal Chief.
The fatigue that you know he feels is beginning to set into his bones, into his soul, but he doesn’t care.
He doesn’t care because he needs you, more so than he ever has in the past.
The sparks are beginning to show between the two of you; there’s nothing in this world like spending a night with someone like Roman Reigns, and you’re about to experience that firsthand once again.
You see the slight raise of his brow as he scans your face, that miniscule action asking you for permission, for your go-ahead, for you to allow him to lose himself within you and to use you as he sees fit for the time being…
…and the nod that you give him right back is all that he needs to see.
It’s the only thing that he needs to see before surging forward to plant a searing kiss to your lips, the fist that’s curled against the wall, moving down to grip your waist as tightly as the hold he has on your neck, digging his fingers into the soft material of his shirt that adorns your figure.
You only get about half a second of realization before you notice that he’s on you, completely covering you with his body as he presses you up against the wall even more. Your hands move from his hair down his neck, grazing his jaw lightly before your nails begin to dig into the exposed meat of his shoulders.
He’s actively stoking the fire that’s now beginning to blaze within you, and you absolutely love it.
The leg that’s not actively trapped between his now finds itself wrapped around his waist right as Roman’s tongue slides between your lips, curling with and against your own before quickly taking over the kiss. And you let him, of course; he needs this, he needs you, and you’re willing to give him whatever’s necessary to satiate his incessant energy.
The way he knows how to pluck your body like a finely tuned instrument with the way he pulls moans and gasps from you, the drag of fabric on skin, the way his body seems to move perfectly in-sync with your own, pushing and pulling until the two of you radiate more hear than the core of the sun…there’s just something about kissing Roman that makes your toes curl and your cheeks ripe with heat just by thinking about it, let alone actually doing the deed.
It’s all fiery passion and full of the aggression he shows in the ring, the possessive nature he has over you to keep you close and a part of him always, the need to show you exactly who you belong to as he pulls you in so damn close that all you can even think to experience is just him and him alone…it’s a conglomerate mixture of beauty and pain and pleasure and you're drinking in every single drop of it.
You feel his teeth begin to sink into your bottom lip, the contact against the already red and raw flesh making you jump in his arms as he tugs on it harshly before letting go. Your eyes, hooded and blown out, meet his again, and you can practically read the words in his mind as his thumb reaches up to lightly brush over it.
You don’t get to do that, anymore. Only I can do that to you.
You watch as he thumbs over your lip again before coming back in for another kiss, your teeth nearly clashing against each other from how harsh the two of you collide. It’s messy, a battle of tongue and teeth that turns in his favor so damn fast, and you can’t resist the urge to just crumble beneath it.
Your arms loop around his neck and hold him as close to you as possible, not wanting to part from him for even a second until your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen so you’re practically forced to. But even that isn’t enough to stop the contact between the two of you, your nails digging into any piece of his exposed skin that you can possibly reach.
The smell of him fills your brain and flows through your very veins, hands holding onto you for dear life while his kiss steals all sense from your mind. Roman has always been able to do this but tonight, you lower your guards and have him take the reins (no pun intended), have him lead the way, follow his motions.
And his motions lead him to start moving backwards, pulling you away from the wall as your leg falls from his waist. Lips still furiously locked with yours, he effortlessly maneuvers the two of you away from the corner and towards a nearby bench, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you down harshly onto his lap.
You thought you could feel him before while he captured you in his stare against the wall, helpless to anything but exactly what he wanted to do with you?
Well, think again.
Your pelvis presses right up against his and the two of you let out a combined moan, your breaths mixing together before he shifts you over his thighs to press you against him even more. You start rocking yourself back and forth on his cock through the dark cargo pants that he wears, feeling it throb and jump with every pass. And your desire for his grows as well, the space between your thighs growing more damp by the second with your juices beginning to now stain your inner thighs.
The small shorts that you wear underneath Roman’s large shirt soon grow more uncomfortable than you’re willing to bear and Roman seemingly notices this as well, running his thumbs over the skin above your ass before not so gently pulling them down your legs. The second you feel the hit your ankles you kick them to the floor below, not giving a damn where they land as your lips remain slotted with his own.
Your hands run down the planes of his chest and circle your fingertip over the space above Roman’s heart, feeling the thrum of energy coursing through his being. His own hands run over your thighs, over the curve of your ass and up your spine as you shift even closer to him, the feeling of your soaked panties as they rub against the bulge in his pants making you pant against his mouth.
You feel his hands drift under the hem of your shirt, the mix of his skin and the leather of the glove he still wears making sparks fly. His lips move from your own down your jaw, the force behind the action making you gasp. Across your skin and over the curve of your ear, down the expanse of your neck and over your collarbone; there’s nowhere that’s left untouched by his eager mouth while his hands roam the heated skin beneath your top.
His teeth graze your skin lightly, causing your entire body to tremble with anticipation right before you feel the sharp stinging of his teeth digging into your flesh, a moan much louder than you should have let out escaping you. Roman’s tongue joins the fray as well, soothing the sting of his bite with each one that he gives you.
One by one, one after another he lays claim to your skin, a reminder to the entire world that despite everything, that despite everyone in his life…he still has you.
He still has you and you’ve let him have you.
The need to feel him, to feel his body even more so consumes your entire mind, your soul, your being, so you take the initiative and grip the hem of your shirt and raise it up your body, pulling it over your head and tossing that to the floor alongside your discarded shorts.
The bra that covers your chest is a lacy one, the same shade of bright red that adorns the glove on his right hand that matches right along with the panties that just barely cover your ass. ‘Figured that you might need a distraction in hindsight. I hope you like it…”
Your voice is small in volume but loud in its tone as you speak, quickly glancing down at his chest where your nails dig into the meat of his pectorals as he raises his head from the crook of your neck, your skin alight and buzzing from him marking it.
Oh, he likes it, alright. He fucking loves it.
Roman’s hands reach up to trace the details in the fabric, his thumb brushing over your nipple and making you arch into his touch. His brows slightly raise with intrigue; this was probably a surprise for him later, for when he won his match…well, not anymore.
Now, the sight of you in this number, one that you had put on just for him, mixed with the need lacing your voice and the lust swimming within your vision…it’s all so much, damn near too much for him to bear, his cock now actively throbbing and throbbing in the confines of his pants.
He needs you now.
“On your knees.”
His low tone shakes you right out of your lust-fueled haze, your eyes snapping open as you pant on his lap.The darkness swirling around within his eyes shows he means business and what Roman wants, Roman gets in spades.
You try your best to move from him, to escape the warmth and desire he’s so graciously provided for you in his own time of need but your methods of moving prove too slow for his tastes, Roman’s non-gloved hand reaching up to yank your head back by your roots, you yelping at the sudden pain.
“What is with you all not fucking listening to me today? I said, I want you on your goddamn knees, now.”
You try your best to nod with his hand in your hair, swallowing down the pathetic noise that threatens to break free before scrambling off his lap and sinking to your knees on the locker room floor, never once breaking eye contact with him as you begin to watch him tear his glove off. The sharp ripping of the velcro cuts through the thick fog that’s filled the air , leather being pulled between his teeth until finally, the damned thing is off and is tossed aside as well, his hand returning to the back of your neck.
Spreading his legs for you as slowly as he possibly can, he keeps your head solely directed at the intimidating bulge that lies within his pants, watching as your eyes flicker back and forth between his own eyes and what lies ahead for your future.
Roman’s nothing if not a beast, both in and out of the ring, and you can’t help but shudder when you gently plant your palms on the outsides of his thighs, looking up at him with the widest eyes you can possibly muster up.
You lick your lips nervously, your heart beating even faster in your chest as he literally talks down to you, your hands beginning to nervously run up his covered thighs as they make their way to his zipper.
And with each notch of its teeth that come undone, with every second that passes that turns into a minute and then to an hour, you manage to push past the nerves that run wild through your veins and undo his pants, slipping your fingers beneath the dark boxer briefs he has on and tugging them down along with his pants to reveal the true monster that lies before you.
Roman’s cock falls from its confines with a dull thud as the head connects with his stomach, leaving a clear splotch of pre-cum where it lands.
The shape of his cock, thick as a tree trunk and just as heavy and absolutely perfect as it is…the space between your thighs aches with the countless memories you have of him fucking you senseless with it,pounding into you and making you see stars over and over again-
“I’m not gonna tell you what to do here, princess. Or, are you too much of a dumb whore to even think for yourself now?”
You blink once, twice, three times as heat rises to your face, wiping the spit that threatens to fall from the corner of your mouth before you move forward, dragging your nails along the smooth skin of his upper thigh.
And as much as he loves to mark you and lay his claim to you, you love doing the exact same thing to him as well.
You live for the hiss he lets out from the pain of your nails, your teeth on his skin and grazing his pelvis as you move closer to his cock.
Such a man, such a being before your very eyes, and he’s all yours tonight, just as you are all his.
You let your nails and the tips of your fingers drag up the sides of his shaft, the length almost as long as your entire forearm. It’s a beautiful thing to see first hand as you admire him, your touches light and fleeting as your wide eyes continue to pierce his. You watch his abdomen clench and ripple when you catch his more sensitive spots, his hips bucking when you run your hand over the large vein that runs up the side.
A smile begins to grow along your lips as you watch him, his other hand running over his face and jaw. You can’t help but to admire him like this, slowly but surely as though you have all the time in the world to do so.
But, based on the absolute storm lingering within Roman’s eyes, you can tell that he’s in no teasing mood, the hand at the back of your neck squeezing threateningly before you finally get the hint to keep fucking going.
So, you do, tightening your grip around the base of his cock and stretching your lips around the head, letting the warmth of your breath wash over it before slowly beginning to sink your mouth down on him.
And, oh, what a sight he becomes before you.
“Fuck, that’s it…” he moans, watching through hooded eyes as you manage to slide the first few inches down your throat. With your smaller hands, you can barely wrap one of them around him fully - let alone two - but you try your best anyway, making sure to jerk the parts you can’t quite reach yet.
The ache between your legs becomes too much to bear as you begin to bob your head up and down, lustily taking him in while your eyes begin to close. With skin sensitive and hot to the touch, you take one hand off of him and begin to run it down your body. Over the curves of your breasts and as they threaten to spill from your bra, down the line of your abdomen, over your pubic bone and thumbing the lining of your panties, you let out another moan when you start to grind your clit against your fingers.
You don’t think that Roman notices it, the shift in your demeanor and the way your shoulders tighten up when you slip your fingers beneath your panties, the way your breath catches and your hips jump as you tease yourself…but he does.
He always does.
“Aww, are you that desperate, baby? You couldn’t help but touch that needy little pussy of yours? I can hear it all the way up here, you’re so wet for me.”
You can practically hear his smirk while he talks, but it still makes you hot all over. Spreading your wetness over your lower lips, you spread them and rub the pad of your finger over your bare clit, your body jolting at the pleasure it spikes through you.
“You want to touch yourself, fuck yourself with those tiny fingers of yours?” he asks, seething at the feeling of your teeth grazing the vein along his shaft. “Then, go ahead. Get yourself nice and ready for me…”
“..and don’t forget about me either, sweetheart,” Roman chides, briefly pulling you from the head with a soft pop before thumbing your lower lip. “Don’t make your Tribal Chief play second best to your needy fucking cunt.”
Your thighs clench and close in around your hand, a soft “yes” falling from your open lips before he presses your face right back against his cock as you begin to take more than you did before. You try to make your mouth as slick with your own saliva as possible, stroking his shaft in tandem with the swirling of your tongue around the head.
His hand lightly connects with your cheek. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, my-”
“And don’t speak with your mouth full, baby. You’re better than that.”
He glares at you as you rise from his cock again, panting softly. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”
“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he tells you, patting your cheek condescendingly. “Now, get back to work.”
The copious amounts of spit from your mouth mix with his pre-cum as your hand glides along the warm skin, the sound just as loud and slick as the ones coming from between your legs. It doesn’t take long for him to take back control, roughly guiding your lips back to his cock before letting you do what you do best.
As your throat grows accustomed to his girth, you shift yourself on your knees and slip a finger between your folds, circling your hole with it and gingerly slide it in, choking around Roman’s length in the process.
A bright flush begins to run wild under his skin as he tilts his head back, the soft sounds of his huffs and groans making the space between your thighs almost uncomfortably wet as you continue to touch yourself. His other hand runs through his hair, pulling at the roots while his face scrunches up in pleasure when you twist your fist around the head just right.
It fills you with a feeling that you can’t describe, seeing what you do to him in moments like these.
“Shit, princess, keep going…” Roman’s near breathless now, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his hips buck into your eager mouth. Eyes hooded, his attention stays on you while your own remain closed, focusing all of your energy on making sure your Tribal Chief is as primed and ready to go as you are.
You ease another finger in between your folds along with the first one and curl them as they drag along your inner walls; it’s not enough, it’s never enough when it’s just you because your fingers aren't his, your touch isn’t the same as his. Roman’s fingers fill you twice as much as your own do, the phantom feeling of them stretching you to the brim as they graze along that one spot wracking your body with shivers.
The room is brimming with the wet sounds of your motions, your juices dripping down the hand that remains at your core while your eager lips and tongue schlick up and down his throbbing cock, the noises coming from the both of you getting swamped in the mess of it.
The sight and sound of you struggling to take his length seems to light a fire under his ass and his grip at the back of your neck grows tighter, Roman starting to force the visible stretch of him taking over your mouth and throat even more so, bucking his hips against your face and making sure that you take what you’re given.
“Oh, you wanna please your Tribal Chief, baby? Well, then, take all of it.”
With that, you feel him wrench your head further down his shaft, your throat closing in around him and squeezing as you choke on him. The hand in your hair tightens the further down his shaft you go, your throat tightening with each and every inch you take, your gag reflex fighting for dear life as you struggle to take him fully.
The few inches you have left to go get wrapped in your fist, your fingers shiny with your spit and noisily stroking him until he presses down on the back of your head just that much more for you to
He needs this, he needs you, and you’re going to take everything he has to give you, just like he asked.
So you brave through it, tears in your eyes with your lungs burning and begging for air, you bare through it for Roman, and the loud moan that you get from him in response makes the fire licking within your core burn all the more brighter.
You try to speak with his cock in your mouth, your garbled attempts at calling his name making him shove you further down. “Do that again, princess. Moan for me again while you get that pussy nice and ready for me.”
And moan for him you do, hearing your blood rushing through your ears as the sensing the heavy press of his hand on your neck squeeze tighter and tighter, Roman intently watching and feeling the length of his cock stretch against the walls of your throat.
It’s not long at all before you feel the telltale signs of your own orgasm approaching: the tightness coiling within your core, the curling of your toes and the pulsing in your abdomen, the sweat beginning to bead on your brow, the way that the pace of your hand around his cock and the hand between your legs seems to uptick bit by bit as the seconds go by…
You’re not at all shocked that Roman catches whiff of this too, hearing the now sped-up sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, over and over again as you soak your panties clean through. “Don’t you dare cum, don’t you dare fucking cum. Only I can make you do that, you got that? Me, not those pathetic fucking fingers of yours.”
“I won’t, I promise.” Your voice is muffled and your throat strains while you attempt to speak as you try your best to breathe through your nose, feeling lightheaded the more you try.
But his words make you feel not and sensitive all over, the hairs on your arms raising as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, gasping when he lifts your head from the base to tightly wrap his fist around it.
“Fuck!” you hear Roman yell before his hand tightens around your hair again, yanking your mouth clean off his cock, drops of spit and his pre-cum dripping down his shaft and catching the too-bright lights of the locker room. You sit before him panting and wheezing, taking in precious breaths of air as you cough and open your now tear-filled and blurry eyes for him.
Your throat and your chest burn from the abuse they’ve taken, the back of your head and neck sore from all of his manhandling while your knees ache from the carpet on the floor of the locker room digging into your skin…but you know that he still needs you, because he’s not done with you yet.
You try to wipe your mouth clean of the mess, your makeup now completely smudged and running down your face as the mix of your saliva and his cum drips from your chin and stains the bra you wear but he doesn’t allow it, taking your chin in his hands and leaning forward off the bench to steal your precious breath away once more with a kiss so fiery that it ignites a fire within you from the inside out.
“Get on your back,” he growls, hand creeping up the sides of your neck and giving it a tight squeeze. “I need to see how ready for me you are.”
Slowly, you pull your hand from your ruined panties and tug them off your legs, kicking the damp scrap of fabric to the side where the remainder of your clothes lie just as he stands from the bench, towering over you and staring down at you menacingly. You reach around your back to unclasp your bra and shimmy it down over your arms, the nearly ruined item soon following all of the other clothes you’ve discarded until you’re finally exposed to his wandering, hungry eyes.
That’s the push that he needs to trail after you as you spread your legs for him, the sounds of him languidly stroking his cock to the sight of you teasing yourself with the wetness that stains your hand.
And what lies in front of you is just as godly, the sight of him shuffling his pants down his thighs and exposing the beautiful tanned skin that you just had your palms running over, stroking himself to the sight and sound of you pleasing yourself with flushed cheeks and the marks from your nails covering his chest and shoulders…the whine you let out cuts through the air and you can’t resist the urge to reach out to him, to call to him and bring him to you-
“You get what I give you, baby, when I want to give it to you and how I want to give it to you. Not when and how you want.”
Roman kneels to your height, his knees hitting the locker room floor with a dull thud and begins to stalk towards you, sirens wailing off inside your mind right as he crawls over your body looking every inch the beast that he claims to be.
“Roman,” you mewl, feeling him run his palms up the flushed skin of your legs. His hand latches onto your wrist and pulls it from between your thighs, holding it up to the light and watching your juices drip from your fingers before slipping them into his own mouth.
You watch as his lips close in over them, his tongue swirling around them to catch every last drop of your essence before slipping them from his mouth with a dark grin. Your aroma, now more potent than ever, fills his lungs with every single breath he takes, even more now with the taste of your arousal staining his tongue.
Every nerve and thought in his body roars at him, screams and demands for him to bend you over and fill you with his cum, to take you over and over again until everyone in this entire goddamn arena knows exactly who the hell you’re with, you’re spending your time with and who’s dealing with you.
Paul, Solo, Jimmy, Jey…they’ll all know exactly who the fuck runs things in this little circle of theirs, this fight for true and utter control.
And it will happen, you just have to wait a tad bit longer for it.
You’re so warm as you lie beneath him, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs as you wait in ample anticipation for his next move. Brushing his hair back with one hand, he slowly runs them up your body, over your plush thighs and past your dripping core that beckons him in closer.
Over your waist and up your chest until he takes your breasts in his hands and rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pulling on them and twisting them until you cry out his name. The pain makes sparks ignite in your core and Roman refuses to let up on his hold despite the noise, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting down on it as he plays with the other one.
Those hands of his, the same ones that bring you pleasure are the same ones that have brought his own family pain, and that thought is not lost on Roman as he continues to play with you, reveling in the litany of pitiful noises leaking from your trembling lips.
He will not show you the same pain that his cousins brought onto him, nor that he had brought to them.
For you, things are…different.
You’ll never leave his side at the head of the table, never abandon him for some other, higher purpose; you’ve said so yourself before tonight many a time.
Your legs wrap around his waist and lock him in as you dig your nails into the carpet you lay on, it already starting to dig into your skin. But you need more from him; more of him on you, around you, more of his touch and his mouth and his cock, just more.
With your feet, you try your best to shove his pants down further over his ass and down his legs, only managing to get so far before he stops you with a firm yet quick slap to your ass.
He doesn’t even have to remove his mouth from your breast to tell you anything, glaring up at you while his tongue laves away at your nipple before moving away from it and suctioning his mouth onto the other.
Your entire body trembles; what does he have planned next for you? What more could he possibly pull from you as he manhandles your body, squeezing and grasping at you like you’re going to somehow sink into the floor if he removes himself from you?
And then all of your questions are answered when you see him rise from your chest, his lips plush and a shade of bright red as a thin line of his saliva connects them to your breast before it snaps. You feel him press down on your waist, making you relax further against the floor until he wraps his hands around your ankles and begins to fold your legs into your chest, your knees grazing your face just so.
“Hold them,” you hear Roman say damn near under his breath, the depth in his voice making you whine as you wrap your hands under your knees to keep your legs raised. The trembling of your body increases as your anticipation grows and everything in your body tells you to close your eyes and look away from him, but you just can’t.
He’s beautiful in the way he gazes down at you, zeroing in on the way the walls of your cunt clench around nothing and shine with your arousal under the light, licking his lips like a caged animal. He might as well be one anyway with the possessive nature that consumes him when he has you, when he’s with you.
A hitch in your breath comes and goes when he moves even closer, gripping his cock firmly with one hand before using the other to spread your lower lips, the sound of him spitting on them reaching your ears before you feel it. It’s slick, it’s obscenely nasty as he swipes his cock head through the glistening mess, spreading the wetness around even more so as to get you as well as possible before you feel the hefty warmth of the head slapping against your folds.
The weights of it, and the thought of what’s to come have you arching your back into the sensation, desperate to reach your hands up to grip him and pull him into you, to have them just get it over with already and to make you see stars. And you do flex your fingers in his direction, squeezing the space beneath your knees and spreading your legs further for him to tease and prod at you while he just stares on with a smirk slowly beginning to grow along his face.
“Patience, baby, patience,“ Roman murmurs, sliding the head of his cock through your folds and nudging your button with it. The action sends a bolt of lightning jolting up your spine, causing you to dig your fingers into the flush of your lower thighs, and toss your head to the side with a small whine.
“Please, Roman, I need it. I need you, just fuck me, please –“
He shushes you, placing a finger to your lips before slipping his thumb between them. You instinctively wrap them around the digit and pull it in deeper with your tongue, swirling the muscle around it before he slowly but surely post it out. “I said to have patience, baby girl, so don’t be greedy. Just lay back, be a good girl, and take what your Tribal Chief gives you.“
He ends his sentence by dragging that wet thumb over your lips, down your chin, and rests harshly against your clit, grinding his shaft against your folds as he plays with you. You feel like your heart is about to fly out of your chest with how fast it’s beating, watching as he moves even closer to you and presses himself even harder against you.
“Nice and wet for me, princess…you did good for me back there.” You revel in the small bit of praise, a ghost of a smile floating over your lips until you feel the blunt head of his cock brushing up against your entrance. “You still ready for me?”
You can’t nod your head fast enough. “Yes, please. Roman, I’m ready for you, I’m ready-”
At the feeling of him finally stuffing you full of his cock, his chest keeping pressure on the backs of your legs and folding further into yourself, tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes at the newfound pressure.
The familiar burn of Roman pushing into you but by bit, inch by gloriously thick inch, has you itching to latch onto him in any way that you possibly can - and you eventually do, removing your hands from holding your legs to placing them on Roman’s shoulders as soon as he gets close enough.
That fire he had stoked inside of you now grows to an inferno the more of himself he bullies into you, stretching you out to fit his cock just right is making your mind hazy. The quick and constant fluttering of your walls around him makes him groan, dropping his head to your knee.
Your nerves fry and your eyes cross as he continues to move, every single wall within you absolutely crumbling because of it. And It feels like forever and a day has passed before he eventually bottoms out inside you for the first time tonight as you nearly lose your mind on his cock, your toes starting to curl and your thighs flexing.
The guttural moan that leaves Roman’s chest rocks you to your very core, the sound of the wetness between your legs and the pressing of him against your ass turning your insides to mush. One of his hands rests at your waist and keeps you close, his body leaning on your own so much that his nose just barely brushes against yours.
You whine his name, the shrill noise and the desperate look in your eyes turning all dials up to eleven. The huffs and small moans leaving your throat, your body already run ragged before he’s really gotten the chance to fuck you senseless yet…it all just makes him want to ruin you even more.
He can’t figure out where to keep his eyes; he wants to look at all of you, from the way your chest heaves and your breasts move from your breaths to the way your pulse jumps at the vein in your neck to the apex of your thighs where your arousal stains and sticks to the skin of his pelvis, there’s almost too many options for him.
But when you squeeze down his shoulders and bring his attention back to the feeble look in your eyes, he can’t help but toss his head back and sigh because look at you, with your lip quivering just as much as your cunt is and the way you gently thump your head against the carpeted floor as his hand runs over your abdomen and presses against the outline his cock made inside you.
His ears fill with the sounds of your sex, your legs seemingly permanently glued to his chest while he wraps an arm around them, keeping you right where he wants you as his hips begin to move.
And the slide of him moving back and forth along your walls, his hips pulling back from your ass and dragging the head of his cock back towards your clit before moving back in just as slowly causes your entire lower body to twitch.
“Roman…Roman, please,” you beg him. You don’t even know what you’re even begging him for anymore: for more? For him to pick up his achingly slow pace? For him to close the distance between his mouth and yours so you can taste him all over again?
But he doesn’t appeal to your cries nor does he break when you seem to grow even wetter for him as he begins to thrust in and out, back and forth, dragging your hips higher into the air and folding you even further into yourself.
He still, however, refuses to look anywhere else other than at your face, in your eyes as he rolls his hips into you, dead set on ever single noise and jerking movement your body gives him.
His brow furrows; how could he not look at you when you’re like this, mouth wide open with your tongue lolling out of your mouth, pointed in the air as it tries to lick at his lips while you fan the flames of the fire you’re sparked inside of him?
You try your best to rock your hips in tandem with his own, bucking them as best you can whenever his pelvis meets your own and he bottoms out inside you. You can feel the head of his cock grazing that sweet spot along your walls, almost kissing your cervix every single time he bears down on you. His weight strains the muscles at the back of your legs when he pulls forward every time but you don’t care, you don’t care because all that matters is him and how well he fills you.
Roman doesn’t speak a word to you, only letting out groans and grunts with the occasional low-toned moan for your ears only, but everything that you hear makes your entire body vibrate with a deeper need.
Eventually, his pace does begin to increase, the erotic melody of his hips tap, tap, tapping against yours growing into him beginning to use his true power to make you cry out. And cry out you do, your brain now clouded with innsense waves of pleasure as your screams for more grow in volume.
You don’t even attempt to lower your volume and neither does he, not caring about whoever may be listening in from outside the no-that-far-away locker room door - and in the back of your mind, your last shred of sentience thanks Roman for preemptively locking it when everyone else had left.
The force behind his thrusts leaves you absolutely breathless as you stare helplessly into his eyes, moans and huffs flowing from your lips like a waterfall while the pleasure in your core ticks up bit by bit.
The faster he pounds into you and the longer he goes on, the more your walls close in around him like a warm, silken vice, your cunt tightening in around him and not letting him go at all. Your pleasure spikes when he moves his hand down slightly to pinch your clit, making you jolt as you arch your back as best you can.
The rug beneath you scratches against your skin as he runs you ragged on top of it, your shoulder blades and the top of your back taking the brunt of the burn. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when you squeeze them closed, but the sharp sting of Roman’s hand coming down on your clit snaps them right back open again.
You hiss at the pain but it all just melts right back into pleasure all over again and it doesn’t escape his keen eyes, his flat of his hand coming down on the button over and over again. And you can’t resist the urge to rake your nails down his arms as your nerves flare all through your body.
The telltale signs of your impending orgasm are clear to you both: the dilation in your eyes, the way your thighs stretch and quake as he presses down on them and how quickly you begin to pant.
“Fu-uck, Roman, I need…I need-”
The feeling of Roman’s hand sliding up your chest and around your neck cuts you off, your breath hitching and your eyes widening. “You need what, baby? Don’t go all shy on me now? Or have I fucked all the sense out of you already?”
He sneers and squeezes the sides of your throat, making you gasp. “You get to cum when I say that you can, when I give you the go ahead…you understand me? Hmm? Nod your head for me, baby girl.”
You follow his orders to a tee, staving off your looming orgasm by trying to focus on something, anything that’s not the pulsating feeling between your legs or the way he drives his cock into you, the build-up in his pace doing absolutely nothing to stop it.
“R-Roman…” Your voice is weak behind the grip of his hand, his thumb brushing along the front of your throat and pressing down.
“Not yet, baby girl. I didn’t say you could cum yet.” Each word he speaks is enunciated by a powerful thrust of his hips, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each one. “Don’t you want to be good for me? Don’t you want to please your Tribal Chief?”
Your voice is soft when you attempt to answer him, crying out “yes, yes I do” as he plows into you harder than before, your back now actively rubbing against the coarse carpet every time Roman’s pelvis connects with yours.
He groans when he looks into your watery eyes, your cheeks stained with your tears and spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. Your face is a mess, your entire body is flushed right with heat, you look a mess, and it’s all because of him.
Your blubbering and the tears that flow from your eyes do something fierce to him as his own orgasm begins to crest, the way your walls grip his shaft driving him absolutely mad with desire. He has to bite down on his tongue to keep from letting go, the sharp pain making him curse as his hips begin to stutter.
“Shit!” he yells, abruptly tearing his cock from you with a wet squelch, your arousal dripping from the head and staining the carpet. Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he grips the base of his cock in his fist again before leaning in to plant a furious kiss to his lips, stealing what little breath you have left away once more.
It’s all teeth and tongue and fiery passion that stokes the already blazing inferno within your soul and when he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and tugs on it, it hurts so good that you whine against his lips and arch into his touch when he pulls away.
Your voice is weak and slightly hoarse when you ask, “Roman?”
“Over the bench, baby. I want you on your hands and knees when I cum inside you.”
That steely gaze from before makes its return and you visibly cower beneath it, standing on shaky legs as you make your way over to one of the nearby benches before draping your weary and sensitive body over it. You feel exposed in this position - even more so due to the fact that you can’t even see him when he pulls the globes of your ass apart to gaze at how slick and messy you’ve become due to his actions.
His hand comes down on the skin and you jolt, scrambling to grab the cold wood of the bench before he does it again…and again.
And again and again as the sharp, stinging pain rings proud and true all over the meat of your ass, heat blooming beneath the skin and radiating off of it. Roman’s hand comes down on one, then the other, and then spreads them with one hand to deliver another blow right to your sensitive folds, causing you to let out a high-pitched scream that has you nearly bolting off the bench.
“Stay still,” he tells you, his chest rumbling as he lays a more firm slap on your ass, another whimper slipping from you. “You only move when I tell you to move, baby girl.”
Roman continues to lay blow after blow to your ass and now to your achingly wet folds, rutting his cock against you as you grind back against him, More tears leak from your eyes as the stinging pain begins to melt into aching pleasure, a litany of broken moans and sobs passing through your lips right before he slides his cock right back inside you.
He meets no resistance and his hips meet yours damn near instantly, picking up his brutal pace right where he left off while you gasp for air. It’s like you can feel his cock all the way in your lungs with how deep he’s pounding into you, the sound of skin hitting sticky skin bouncing off the walls of the locker room.
Your chest presses firmly against the bench, your breasts aching from how firmly he holds your hips against it while his pace goes into overtime. Everyone outside be damned, the noises leaving your mouth couldn’t be silenced even if the damn door was broken down.
The sounds of his name and cries for more fill his ears and he drifts a hand up your back, trailing his fingers up your spine before wrapping his hand in your hair and yanking your head back against his chest.
“That’s it, scream for me,” you hear him say in your ear, the drop in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You feel his lips trace the shell of your ear, biting down on it and then moving down to your jaw. His other hand grasps your chin and pulls your head to the side, his teeth grazing the side of your neck before he sinks his teeth into it.
And the yell that you let out because of it almost rattles the very walls that surround you as you weakly reach your arms back behind your head and wrap them around his own neck, keeping his head there as he plows into you. Your hips ache, your ass fucking burns from his pelvis colliding against it, everything on your body stings and aches and hurts but you love it, you love it all.
You can feel the marks and bruises that his hands,his lips, his teeth leave on your body already begin to bruise, and you can already tell that the ones staining your ass are going to make it hard to sit down or even walk for days to come…
But you’ll wear those marks, those bruises, you’ll wear everything with your head held high and with pride in your eyes because despite all that Roman’s faced these past few months, he still has you willingly and wholly and wholeheartedly.
The sweet kiss of your orgasm comes to fruition again and you can feel that wave begin to crest over; you won’t be able to last much longer if he keeps going at the pace he’s at right now, your toes curling as you dig your own nails into his scalp to pull his head from your neck. You instinctively squeeze around his cock, feeling his balls slap against your clit over and over again and making you jump and jolt around.
“R-Roman, please, ’m gonna…, I need to, please-”
He can’t help but groan as he roughly kisses the side of your head, holding your beginning-to-go-limp upper body close to his chest. “Fuck me, baby, you’re gonna cum? You’re gonna soak my cock and stain the floor?”
You feel him smile against your cheek when you nod. “I feel you clenching around me, princess, so why don’t you be a good girl for your Tribal Chief and cum for me? I want this pussy sloppy fucking wet by the time I’m done with you.”
The weight of him against your back side, the way he slips a hand between your legs and begins to play with your clit again, furiously rubbing the bud between his fingers as he pumps his hips even faster…it has your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you pant like a bitch in heat, Roman playing you like a finely tuned instrument and pushing all of the right buttons.
It all comes to a head when he starts to murmur in your ear,words and wishes of how he’s going to fill you up just like how you want and leave you dripping full of his cum all over the floor by the time the night ends, firmly grasping your breast with his other hand and twisting your nipple fiercely.
Blood rushes to your ears so damn fast that you can just barely hear the words that leave his lips but once you do…oh, the reaction that he gets has him cheesing something fierce, those sharp teeth of his bared for the whole world to see.
Your entire body shakes, completely vibrates with the need to cum as you fly closer and closer to that edge, clinging to Roman for dear life - but not before he tilts your head to the side and kisses you so passionately that you fall limp in his hold, his tongue meshing together with yours.
“Don’t hold yourself back anymore, baby girl. Cum for me, cum for me now-”
He speaks against your lips and your inner walls give way to your orgasm, that wave cresting and your body bending along with it as you soak his cock with a cry so loud that it rings louder in your ears than your bloodrush does. Your heart feels as though it’s about to leap through your chest and out of your mouth, your hands drifting from his hair and your arms wrapping around his neck behind you.
You can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as it presses against your back and it’s just as fast as yours, and a final high pitched moan escapes your mouth as you soak his cock completely, his hips stuttering against yours while his thrusts begin to slow.
You audibly moan at the warmth that fills your core when you feel him jut his hips against yours and stays there, fully inserted within you as his own climax takes the reins.
It feels like a punch square to his gut when his cock throbs against that sweet spot that lines your walls, his resolve crumbling and his mind going blank for a few seconds. “Fuck,” Roman groans, the sound rumbling through your whole body as you feel him paint your walls with his cum, the head of his cock pressing snugly against your cervix while he grips your flesh and digs his fingers in wherever he can put them.
Your thighs, your chest, your waist, your neck, it doesn’t matter; at the end of the night, your entire body is going to be covered in his marks, whether you like it or not.
Your brain is scrambled and he rests his head on top of yours, massaging your clit to get the final jitters of your orgasm out of you before he finally lets you breathe. Your vision remains blurry from a mix of how tightly you squeezed your eyes shut and from the tears that still linger within it, your face remains a stained mess from your destroyed makeup, and you don’t even want to talk about the state that your hair resides in…but in this moment, you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.
But, he’ll tell you that soon enough.
For now, he simply cradles your trembling body to his chest, his cock still snug along your inner walls as he rocks his body against yours; over and over again, calming the rocky waves of your climaxes - both yours and him - as he begins to take his own breath and takes the first seconds of the night to finally think about the events that have occurred.
His blood, his closest family has betrayed him, left him in the dirt and dust and tossed him aside…and now all that he has left is you.
You and the strength, the stability, the everything that’s left of his Bloodline reside within you, and he can’t let you go.
He just can’t.
He won’t let you go, not now and not ever…not after everything tonight.
As time passes and when he doesn’t speak, you take the first steps. “...Roman? Are you okay?” you ask, your voice hoarse and your throat dry from all of your screaming.
“Please…” you hear him whisper against your back, pressing his lips to the back of your neck as he pants, still coming down from the force of his orgasm. “Please…don’t leave.”
Please don’t leave me.
And hearing that, hearing his voice crack slightly as his lips move from the nape of your neck upwards, curving up towards your jawline and around the shell of your ear…it breaks you, it utterly breaks something within your soul.
As you think back to the previous weeks, you could already see the threads of dissension within the eyes of Solo, the traps being laid by The Usos to bring the young man closer to their side and away from Roman’s.
The true and final nail in the coffin of the Bloodline, the removal of the Samoan Enforcer, the last shred of foundation that holds this entire empire of Roman’s together…you can feel it in his every motion, every single press of his fingers against your skin, every pull of his arms as he brings you in further and further to his own body: he’s terrified of losing everything, everything that he has left, everything that he is.
“I won’t, Roman,” you tell him, curling your body against his, allowing him to surround you with everything that he has and everything that he’s willing to give you. “I won’t leave. I’ll never leave, I promise.”
A few moments pass, and what precious moments they are. No words are spoken, barely any movements are made aside from the slight rocking of his hips against your own and the heaving of your chests as you both breathe, just…nothing.
A good nothing.
A good nothing that allows you both to just be in touch with yourselves and with each other.
After those few moments pass, you speak to him again, gently running your fingertips over his forearms. “Look, we’ll forge a new Bloodline, okay? Together. You and me and Paul and Solo-”
Roman buries his face in your hair at the mention of Solo’s name, taking a deep breath in of a scent that’s just entirely you mixed with tinges of him…a perfect combination, the perfect combination.
“If we can’t rely on your family to maintain this faction, this dynasty…then we’ll make a new one of our own. Bigger and better and more powerful than Jimmy and Jey could ever comprehend.”
A tense silence follows your words before Roman finds his own to respond.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
You feel his lips curl into a smile against your head, another kiss being pressed to your hair as he thinks. You’re right, after all.
If his own family won’t stand at his side, if he can’t rely on his own bloodline…then you two will create your own dynasty…together.
And together, the two of you will take down and dismantle whatever is left of Jimmy and Jey, for all of the new hell that they’ve now brought upon themselves.
And that’s not a threat, Roman thinks to himself as he curls his body around yours against the cool floor of the locker room, not wanting to get up nor remove himself from the comfort and relief that you provide him.
That’s a fucking promise.
“So..can I get my clothes now? And, are we gonna get up and unlock the door, or…?”
You feel his chest rumble as he chuckles, his smile against your skin growing just that bit wider. “Nah, they can all wait a few more minutes. Besides…”
“...I’m not finished with you just yet.”
Oh, fuck…
Tag List:
@auraravenora77 @stargazerofgoldenwords @writinglionqueen @axelwolf8109 @adampage @doctorbrittbaker @neversatisfiedgirl @atiny-angel @reci24 @brownblackbeautiful @glowingz @lemonjvicey @moxxieswitchblade @beardedbarba @annoyedkayah2395 @theworldofotps @gold--gucciempress @shanie-is-komania @jazzy-tzw @colesterstrudel @claymorexpunisher @dori-the-rwby-addict @thephoenixreaper @thepalaceofmelanie @mistress-to-the-moon @sassymox @jeffhardyenigmawwefan @lynsrosegarden @thatpanpal @new-zealand-chic @auburnwrites @deepdisireslonging @bigpsychicbagelauthor @shortyiceheart @demonslunacy @snarkandsarcasmftw @thatnerdwriter @scuzmunkie @taryn-dibiase @luciddrreamss @xfirespritex @itsreigns @officialbroski10-blog @new-zealand-chic @rowinathequeenofpersia @roofgeese @p0is0nl0ve @flawlessglamazon @dreamlesswonder86
please please please lmk if i missed anyone (on the tag list) and lmk if you wanna be added to it/removed from it! tysm and have a blessed one 😘✌🏾
#rezz writes some bullshit#roman reigns x reader#roman reigns x reader smut#roman reigns x reader fanfiction#wwe x reader#wwe x reader fanfiction#wwe x reader smut#wwe smut#wwe fanfiction#wwe fanfic#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns fanfic#roman reigns smut#roman reigns x you#oh my god...rezzy actually posting a fic??? with ACTUAL smut in it???? color me gooped and gagged and shocked to shit lmao#but please enjoy this y'all i spent way too much time overthinking this XD
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An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.
I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)
I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.
My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.
I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”
That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.
Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.
The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.
My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.
I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.
Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.
No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.
And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.
Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.
You see where I’m going?
If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.
So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.
The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.
Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤
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Trailer park Steve AU part 23
part 1 | part 22 | ao3
cw: alcohol, recreational drinking
Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?”
“What? You look cute!”
“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”
“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”
“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.”
“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”
“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."
“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.
She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.”
“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.”
“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”
Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”
They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.
In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.
The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls.
Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.
Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.
Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.
“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”
Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.
Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?
He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!
“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
—
The drinks are strong.
Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging.
They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move.
He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.
The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger.
Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.
She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.
“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.
Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"
Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on.
Well, shit.
—
part 24
tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot
#trailer park steve au#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie fic#st fic#robin buckley#jonathan byers#my writing#my fic
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Again - Colby B.
Warnings: somewhat public sex, drunk sex, best friends, fingering, cunnilingus, praise kink, oral!fem recieving, slight hair pulling, lmk if i missed one!
AN: this is my veryyy first time writing, so i apologize if it’s no good! and it was so rushed because I had no idea what to write.
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It was a fourth of July party your friend group was throwing. Sweaty bodies dancing against each other as loud music played. Fireworks could be heard at times. You bump into multiple bodies on your way to the kitchen to receive something stronger to drink. For some people with good money, the drinks sure were cheap. They spent money on different items for the party, yet they couldn’t buy drinks that didn’t taste like shit.
Grabbing a red solo cup, you clambered up the counter top carelessly. You stand on top of the counter and open up a cabinet. As you took out a bottle of vodka and poured it into your cup, you heard a deep chuckle drowned by music come from behind.
“Risking your life for some vodka is kind of crazy, don’t you think?” was heard behind you. Slowly pulling the cup away from your lips, that also covered half your eyesight, Colby was seen. He was leaning against the door frame. Fidgeting with his rings as his gaze was locked on yours.
You playfully role your eyes at him and take another sip, “It’s—like—a 3ft fall, I think i’ll be fine.” Colby roles his eyes back, walking towards you. He looks up and lends you a hand, helping you down from the counter. The loud music smothered both your voices. His body stirred adjacent to you, he peered inside the cup and raised his eyebrows slightly. Something you wouldn’t have noticed if his face wasn’t so close to yours. “Problem?” You asked him. His eyes shifted to yours. He tilted his head slightly and mumbled a quick no.
Colby was one of your best friends. Though one time.. one time.. there was a moment between you guys. A moment where you two shared a kiss. Neither of you were sure how you got in that position, but it was something that was never spoken about. It was left to linger in the air between you. You can’t lie, it was something that never ever left your mind. A memory that was engraved in your brain. It replayed over and over again every time you saw him.
Now here you were again. Drunk and not thinking straight. He was right in front of you, also drunk. His face so close to yours, you can practically feel him breathing. Suddenly, his face seemed to start getting closer.
Both your lips connected. Again. His lips were as soft as last time. But the kiss was more hot. More desperate. Colby reached down to the back of your thighs and lifted you to sit on the counter. His lips moving down to kiss your jaw, down to your neck.
“Do you know what you do to me? Do you know how many goddamn times i’ve thought about that kiss? You’re so fucking perfect.” His voice was muffled by your neck, as well as the music. He created a few purple marks.
You let out a small laugh, “You think I haven’t?” He started kissing up your jaw again, then back to your lips. His hips rolled against yours as he took a hold of your thighs to bring you to the edge of the counter, closer to him. Your tongues danced together. He slipped a hand underneath your dress, on your bare thigh, and let it linger for a moment. Silently asking for consent. When you didn’t say anything, he was quick to lift your dress up to your waist.
At that moment, both of you had completely forgotten you were—technically—in public. You guys were in the kitchen, the galley kitchen where no one was allowed, but still. Anyone could’ve walked in at any given time.
He slipped off your underwear as he sunk to his knees. Taking a look at your, already wet, cunt.
“Jesus. Could you get any more perfect?” With that, he let his head dip forward and suck on your clit. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place.
“Oh fuck..” You let out quietly as your back arched slightly. Hand flying to his hair as the other kept you steady on the counter. His tongue going all over your pussy. Making sure every inch was getting the attention it deserved. Licking and sucking. He let his right hand move from your thigh. Two of his fingers teased your entrance, slowly making their way inside of you. He groaned lowly as he started sucking and licking your clit. His fingers began pumping into you.
You moaned louder. Not caring about anything else; the music was too loud anyway. Your back arched and thighs shook. You started to feel that familiar knot. Colby knew that too. So he started speeding up. He looked up at you, mumbling praises as if you could hear them.
“Cum for me, Sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me. All over my face,” He said, loud enough for you to hear. It brought you over the edge. He quickly removed his fingers, that way he could taste all of you. He let you ride your high before getting up and putting his fingers in your mouth. Eyes staring at you with lust as you tasted yourself.
He’s starting to believe he has never been that hard before.
His fingers slip out of your mouth and kissed you again. Your hands fly to unbutton his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. You break the kiss. As much as you try not to, you stared. Questioning if it would even go all the way in before it started to hurt. He grabbed your face and lifted it up.
“Be a good girl,” He said before giving you a kiss and teasing your entrance once again. This time, with his tip. Your small whine was music to his ears. He slowly thrusted inside you, letting you get used to his size. You weren’t sure you ever would be. “You’re so tight,” He groaned.
When you gave him an affirmative small nod, he thrusted slowly again and again. He took his time with you. Until he didn’t. He started rocking his hips faster. Neither of you bothered hiding your moans as he fucked you. You clawed at his back, and he clawed your hips. You were more than sure there would be bruises tomorrow.
His rhythm continued even when he was close. His fingers making small circles on your clit so you could come faster, but your previous actions had gotten that covered already.
You began to feel it again. Colby kept his pace, muttering sweet nothings into your ear. One of his hands tangled up in your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss you as he brought both of you closer to euphoria.
“So fucking close, baby,” He groaned into your mouth. “I know you are too. Cum for me again.” After a few more thrusts, you were once again, brought to exhilaration. You arched your back into him, moaning his name loudly.
Colby groaned loudly into your ear as he coated your walls. His hips started to falter. After riding it out, he stopped. Slowly pulling out of you, he grabbed a napkin to help clean you up. He put your underwear back on and pulled your dress down. When he finished helping you, he tidied himself up as well.
“You’re so amazing, you know that?” He whispered loud enough so you could hear. “You did so good, Sweetheart.” His lips connected to yours once again. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh and ‘thank you’.
“Maybe we should go… before they realize the party animal is gone.” He said as he helped you off the counter once again and his eyebrows wiggled slightly towards you.
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#sam and colby#colby brock#tumblr#colby brock is so fine#sam golbach#ghost hunting#colby x reader#colby brock x reader#colby brock x y/n#colby brock x you#colby brock x oc#sam and colby fanfiction#sam and colby fics#colby brock fic#colby brock smut#colby brock smut fanfic#sam golbach fanfic#katrina stuart#jake webber#sam and colby smut#sam and colby fanfic#sam golback x reader#tumblog#i’m tired#this is my first time writing pls be nice#colby brock fluff
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ADVERSARIAL APPETITES
♡ — aki hayakawa x f!reader
The only thing worse than accidentally running into the Lust Devil is having to call Aki fucking Hayakawa for help.
18+ ONLY
wc — 1.9k
prompt — coming in pants, praise kink (requested by @antique-remains)
additional content — enemies to lovers, edging, masturbation, phone sex, light brat taming, light dom!Aki vibes, voice kink, mentions of anal sex, coming untouched, dirty talk, anal fingering
╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist
“Hayakawa.”
“Yeah?”
His voice is slightly muffled, and you know there’s a cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth, burning orange embers dangling precariously as the white stick shakes with the slight movement of his lips.
Pinching the bridge of your nose, the back of your head thuds against the creaky motel headboard as you close your eyes and exhale noisily before muttering, “I need your help.”
Later, you’ll look at your call log and be horrified to find that you called Aki fucking Hayakawa to grovel for assistance. Like this is your first goddamn day as a Devil Hunter. Like he’s not the most insufferably broodish bane of your existence.
You may never forgive yourself for this temporary lapse in judgment, though that will ultimately be a problem for Later You.
Later—when you’re not stripped down to your bra and panties in a dingy motel room with a questionable smell lingering in the faded brown carpet, your blood-stained button-down shirt and pants carelessly tossed over the back of a half-busted chair, filthy knives left discarded on the nightstand where they’re sitting precariously close to a well-worn copy of the Bible.
When the metallic taste of blood isn’t still lingering in your mouth from your split bottom lip.
When you’re not about to crawl out of your skin with arousal because your simple in-and-out solo assignment was interrupted by an accidental run-in with the fucking Lust Devil.
The Lust Devil, who had laughed with an irritatingly melodic voice as you tried and failed to decapitate her. Your knives sang through empty air with each swipe as she repeatedly disappeared into a cloud of hazy, pink vapor, the sickeningly sweet smell of which left you doubled over gagging and gasping for breath.
She’d kissed you on the cheek and tapped your nose with a deceivingly girlish little giggle before taking her leave, ominously lilting, “Good luck with that, love.”
You’d hardly made it to this shitty, back road motel with the dredges of your self-control intact, almost orgasming from the mere feeling of your car bouncing with the bumps in the road, scraping your thighs together as you floored it. Abdomen pressed desperately against the edges of the dubiously stained sink, you’d scrubbed your hands raw with scalding hot water thrice in the cramped bathroom before unceremoniously stripping down and flopping onto the bed.
After an hour of trying and failing to bring yourself over the edge, your sticky, arousal-soaked fingers are now cramped and sore from repeatedly plunging them in and out of your aching cunt. Try as you might, every time you reach the precipice of release, your pleasure evaporates in an instant, leaving every nerve ending in your body painfully ignited with need. Pathetic tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you desperately hump your hand, powerless to expel the insurmountable lust burning inside of you.
Clearly, masturbating isn’t the solution to the Lust Devil’s little game.
And Aki says as much after you finish explaining yourself through gritted teeth, fighting for your life to stave off the embarrassing urge to dip your fingers between your thighs again while the call is still active.
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!” you cry out in frustration.
“Her power is fuelled by the fear of something, remember. But it’s not the concept of lust.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s the fear of lusting after someone that you shouldn’t. She feeds on the shameful feelings of acting on inappropriate sexual desires.”
You raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see you. “So you’re saying I should come back and seduce Kishibe sensei.”
“You’re fucking shameless.”
“I like a quick solution.”
You can hear his exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. “From what I’ve been told, it’s not about physical consummation. It’s a mental thing.”
“So I just need to think about a dirty little secret while I’m touching myself, and then I’ll finally be able to orgasm?”
“Essentially.”
Twenty minutes later, half of the pillows and bed covers have been angrily tossed to the floor in your attempts to touch yourself in every position you could possibly think of—sadly to no avail.
“Yes?” Aki sounds bored when he answers your next call, and you make a rude gesture in the direction of your phone.
“It’s not working.”
“And?”
“And I’m two seconds from losing my mind. Can you put that stupidly smart brain of yours to use and actually help me?”
The other end of the line is quiet, so you add with an annoyed huff, “Please.”
You can hear the slight amusement in Aki’s tone as he asks, “What, do you need me to tell you how to masturbate?”
You pointedly ignore the odd feeling that zips up your spine at his words. “Wow, you sure know how to talk dirty to a girl, Hayakawa.”
He scoffs.
He fucking scoffs.
There’s a shuffling sound before he responds in a low, clipped tone, “Stop being a fucking brat.”
Everything is silent save for the ticking of the clock on the wall.
“I…” you trail off, not sure what kind of response you can formulate with the way your heart’s suddenly pounding in your chest.
“Tell me what you’re doing,” he intones smoothly, your toes involuntarily curling at the cadence of his deep voice.
“Laying in bed,” you reply, far shorter of breath than you were moments ago.
“And what are you wearing?”
“My bra and underwear.”
“That’s too much. Take them off.”
Your sharp inhale is your only response, and though Aki’s normally hard-pressed to even suggest you do something on a regular day without getting a snarky response in return, your hands are like phantom limbs as you comply with his request.
“Are you naked now?”
You nod, only to belatedly realize he can’t see it, so you reply, “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Your back arches upward from where you’re lying face up on the mattress, those two words catching you entirely off guard.
Aki’s the bane of your existence most days, for reasons your foggy brain can’t quite remember now that you’re naked and dripping wet to the husky sound of his unfairly attractive voice in a shitty hotel room in the middle of nowhere. You’ll certainly hate yourself for this later, for shamelessly imagining the slightly bored look on his stupidly handsome face as you spread your legs wide, exhaling shakily while running your fingers over your sensitive, peaked nipples.
But oh, if it’s an inappropriate orgasm the Lust Devil wants?
It’s what she’s going to get.
(And if you’re silently moaning now in anticipation at the thought of Aki fucking Hayakawa murmuring dirty things to you over the phone to get you off, nobody else needs to know that.)
“I like you like this,” he murmurs.
“Like what?” you ask, as if you don’t already know.
He chuckles.
—
You’re insufferable.
Absolutely, positively insufferable.
You live and breathe to make Aki’s job far more difficult than it needs to be, with your snappy, headstrong attitude and your penchant for nearly getting yourself killed on a regular basis.
But right now?
Right now, that’s the last thing on Aki’s mind. Because all of your bristled, sharp edges have gone pliant on the other end of the phone, your scathing, impatient remarks replaced by the sound of your heavily aroused, labored breathing.
“I bet you’re already soaked,” he says, shifting slightly from where he’s seated on his couch as he feels himself harden in his slacks at the thought.
“I'm dripping all over the sheets,” you admit.
He bites his fist.
“Touch yourself for me then.”
You don’t hesitate—he knows that because he can immediately hear the lewd, squelching sound of you starting to pump your fingers in and out of your wet hole.
“Slow down,” he chides, just to be a dick. He can’t let you off that easy, after all.
“Fuck you,” you pant out with a whine.
“Maybe if you behave,” he drawls, clicking his tongue. “How many fingers are you using?”
“Two.”
“Put in another.”
He hears a strangled moan fall from your lips.
“S’tight,” you whimper.
“How do you expect to take my dick then?” he asks, the words past his lips before he can stop himself.
There’s a slight choking sound from your end. “How would you fuck me, Hayakawa?”
“Aki,” he corrects you with a slight edge to his voice, not sure why he suddenly feels compelled to do so.
“How would you fuck me, Aki?”
His dick is straining painfully against his zipper now, a dark spot of precum staining the black fabric of his pants. He presses the heel of his palm against his throbbing shaft to relieve some of the pressure as he hears the damp slide of three of your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt.
“Till you’re begging me to come.”
You moan for him.
For him.
He’s fucked.
“Would you fuck my mouth to shut me up?” you breathe out, words hoarse.
“I bet you’d look so pretty choking on my dick.” More precum leaks through, and Aki’s muscles tense.
“Would I look pretty with your cum all over my face?”
His dick is so painfully hard it feels like it’s going to fall off.
Aki’s going to kill the fucking Lust Devil with his bare hands.
“You’re filthy,” he comments, hips rocking upward to no avail.
“Rude,” you exhale between a moan and a whimper, and he imagines the way you’re probably teasing your supple breasts while fucking yourself on your fingers right now.
“That was a compliment.”
“I haven’t even told you what I’m doing now,” you tease.
He raises an eyebrow, letting himself run his hand over his throbbing shaft briefly one more time. “What’s that?”
A loud, broken moan follows. “Using what’s dripping out of me to finger my ass.”
Oh.
He’s really fucked.
Aki bites his lower lip so hard he tastes blood as he resists the urge to furiously fist his cock.
“How many?” he croaks.
“One.”
“Give me two,” he nearly growls.
“I can’t—“
“Prep yourself for me. Two fingers.”
Aki’s fairly certain he’s never been so desperate to fuck anyone in his life as he is in this moment.
He hears you gasp and whimper as you slowly ease a second lubricated finger up your ass, knows it’s shoved all the way in by the sobbing moan that follows.
“Okay,” you whisper shakily.
“Good girl,” he says again, because he could tell what it did to you the first time.
You keen at the praise, and he hears as you resume playing with your pussy while plunging in and out of the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks at the same time.
“I’m close,” you sob.
“Come for me,” he tells you, like he’s not on the verge of an untouched orgasm himself.
“Wanna feel you come in my ass,” you whimper.
Aki’s helpless to hide his answering moan, the mental image sending him reeling. But it’s the sound of you crying out his name as you come that’s his undoing—
“AKI!”
The coil in Aki’s gut unfurls like a whip, white-hot pleasure washing over his body as he trembles with the force of his orgasm. Cum floods his boxers, his hot, sticky seed leaking all over his balls and soaking through the front of his slacks. He gives in and roughly grasps his cock through the damp material, riding out the aftershocks as cum drips along his inner thighs, belatedly realizing just how loudly he’s moaning right along with you.
Then it’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of both of you breathing hard.
“Did you—“
“Text me the address of that motel. Now.”
— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#aki hayakawa x reader#Aki hayakawa#Aki hayakawa smut#csm#chainsaw man#chainsaw man fanfiction#dee writes
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cherry cola, cigarette kisses
pairing: guitarist!toji fushiguro x singer!reader
warnings: slight age gap (reader is 25, toji is 30), mentions of drugs and alcohol, smoking, swearing.
a/n: a little drabble for the ‘jujutsu journal’ collab by @ayyy-pee. dividers by @/benkeibear. toji drabble collection here.
people came to see the band live really just to catch a glimpse of the two of them in person.
of her, with her cream linen summer dresses, lips painted red like the cans of cherry cola she drank on stage between sets, dainty gold rings adorning her fingers, silk red ribbons tied in pretty big bows on her wrists, and matching platform heels. her with a voice so cool and suave, like ice, that it made all the boys go crazy for her.
and of him, toji fushiguro. with his cigarette smoke voice, all husk and fire, and veiny hands that held his guitar with practiced finesse. with his guitar solos that made you want to throw your head back in ecstasy, and his rolled-up sleeves to expose his corded forearms, driving the girls wild with desire.
people came to see them play and see the way they moved together.
when she sang, toji would close his eyes and tilt his head back, lost in the ecstasy that was the privilege of listening to her art. plucking the strings of his electric guitar along to play a tune to support her voice, like a flowing stream carrying along a floating feather. he let the vibrations of the bass through the speakers and reverberate into his bones, feeling the thrum of the crowd with their phone lights flashing and swaying, and inhaling the scent of sweat and dreams in the air.
god, his girlfriend was so fucking cool, and they all didn’t even know the half of it.
they didn’t know how pretty she looked when she danced naked in the dark in front of their penthouse views of the city lights below. with red wine swirling in her glass amidst a smokey haze, he’d exhale a big fume of his joint, and think to himself that he was so goddamn lucky to have picked up that crumpled, wet ‘guitarist wanted’ flyer all those years ago.
of course, the world didn’t know just how lucky toji was just yet.
she’d sing such pretty words, especially about the world thinking you were too young to understand the things you felt. words about everyone telling you that you couldn’t possibly grasp the way things were supposed to work, when in fact, you actually did – perhaps better than everyone else did. toji had been one of those things for her before. their bandmates had been adamantly against the older man pursuing her when they first met four years ago. she was their sweet little cherry, and they didn’t want the ash of him and his cigarettes falling on and ruining her delicate skin.
“she’s too young,” they’d all said. “too dumb to know what you are, fushiguro.”
toji had let their words get to him, the indignant and prideful fire within razing everything to the ground, and disappeared into his studio apartment with only his bong for company. he’d been there for a long time, refusing to answer any of her or the band’s calls, until she showed up knocking at his door in the middle of the night. her makeup was smeared and her vanilla scented perfume still lingered, while he was lost halfway in a dream of minefields, complex labyrinths, and booby traps.
“don’t leave me too,” she’d begged, a tumbling mess of tears, and practically collapsed as she gripped his arms for all she was worth. “not you, please.”
he melted into her right there and then.
toji shushed her softly, holding her close as they lay there in a tangled heap on the floor. he watched as his tears landed on her hair, feeling his high crashing down. “but i’m no good for you, babygirl.”
“nobody is good for each other, toji. love is fucking awful and tears your heart apart, but i still want to do it with you.”
and that was that.
but nobody else knew about them.
they’d been a secret for two years now, and toji had decided that this was it – she was it. his best girl, no other woman would ever compare to her. but she was so nervous, always so good, about what their bandmates and the fans would think. she didn’t want to break anybody’s heart, but toji didn’t care about that anymore.
they belonged to each other, and fuck, the whole world needed to know it. and if they didn’t like it? well, they could go and choke on it.
she swayed back and forth, staring at toji with heart eyes, and and teasingly stuck her tongue out to the side. that was his cue, and the fans knew it too, for him to take control of the music with his fingers and let himself and his guitar run wild. of course, it was to put on a good show, but he knew it was really because she loved his guitar solos more than anyone else did.
“i want you to play guitar for me all the time,” she said one time, teeth stained gray from the wine, twirling in lazy circles as toji strummed his acoustic guitar. “especially when i die, so i can hear the sound of heaven before i go.”
toji abruptly stopped playing and frowned, “don’t even talk about something like that. i’m supposed to go before you anyways, y’know i’m the old one.
“shut up, i can’t live without you.”
he stared at her as he played, never taking his eyes off how she danced and swayed. he watched as she went over to their drummer and pressed a kiss to their cheek. a hot flare of jealousy coursed through his blood, and toji picked up the pace, forcing their drummer to focus and step it up a notch to keep up with him. sweat dripped from his forehead, his dark hair sticking to it in stringy strands, and he licked his lips, tasting salt.
“yeah,” toji thought. “it’s do or die now.”
she took a swig of cherry cola, lipstick stains on the rim, as toji coaxed his solo into an earth-shattering crescendo, sending the crowd into a frenzy of whoops and cheers. still, he never took his eyes off her, following her every movement as he stopped the music suddenly in a dramatic conclusion.
the crowd clapped for the end of the song, and toji lit a cigarette to settle his buzzing nerves, his chest heaving with exertion. she floated over to him, smiling softly, red lipstick slightly faded from the cola, licking her lips as she tilted her head at him. he knew she could read him like a book; she knew something was wrong.
“what is it?” she whispered, being careful not to face the crowd directly.
“let’s do it, babygirl,” toji rasped, taking another long drag from his cigarette.
her eyebrows shot up, and she gaped. “now, toji? right now?”
“yeah, c’mon. let’s drive ‘em all crazy,” he chuckled, blowing his smoke away from her face.
“you mean it, toji?” she frowned, her pretty little heart so goddamn nervous about everyone else’s feelings but her own.
toji flicked his cigarette, adjusted his guitar to his side, and smiled. “let’s not think anymore, let’s just do.”
with that, he pulled her in by the waist and planted a kiss right onto her plush lips. bitter cigarette and sweet cherry flavors mixed intoxicatingly as their mouths danced together, eliciting shocked gasps followed by an almost deathly silence.
and then, it exploded.
the camera flashes went astronomically wild, accompanied cheering that bordered on plain screaming and raving, as a thousand hearts broke and millions swooned. she relaxed into him, putting her hands onto his broad, sweaty chest, flushed from the heat of the moment and the thrill of performing. they pulled apart, his lips swollen and hers tingly, and it was just the two of them amidst the eyes of thousands. she giggled, a nervous bark at the revelation of how their lives were going to change now, and toji beamed.
“you’re trouble, toji fushiguro,” she breathed out, chin on his chest as she gazed up at him in adoration.
toji chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and mumbled, “i’m your trouble.”
general taglist: @tadabzzzbee
#JujutsuJournal#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji fluff#guitarist toji#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk au#fushiguro toji#toji zenin#jujutsu kaisen au#jujutsu kaisen
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(Somewhat disorganized thoughts to follow…)
So I’m sitting here thinking about Good Omens, as usual. And I’m wondering. What if Aziraphale hadn’t gone to chat with the Metatron?
Because it’s easy to say “awww yisss there would have been love confessions and kisses and everything would be better.”
But would it?
Because as the great Bildad the Shuhite said, “Nothing has to change.”
If there’s anything this 6000-year slow-burn has shown us, these two are content to remain… not exactly the same, but changing in glacially slow ways (and also not really content, but they’ll fucking do it anyway).
I think watching Gabriel and Beelzebub go off together got them both to realize that things could be different. But would that be enough to get them talking? Or would they have just gone off to their alcoholic breakfast, made a few jokes about whatever the hell’s just happened, then wind up back at the shop drunkenly talking about dolphins and bird space ships again, the needle on their relationship barely moved? And stay that way until the Second Coming finally arrived to shake things up?
Because it’s not a question, really, of them realizing something or revealing something. They both know.
Crowley knows what he wants, but he’d rather spend the next thousand years scowling from the sidelines and watching his angel be a happy idiot than actually put his feelings into words.
And Aziraphale—well, he has ideas, more than we give him credit for, he isn’t wholly oblivious, but his ideas are happy little dream worlds he can play out in his mind. He’s waiting for a better deal—not better than Crowley, obviously, but better than the precarious balance they currently exist in. A perfect shiny happy ending where everything is Good and Nice. And he’s willing to wait basically forever, just thinking about how nice it will be when it happens.
They need nudges. They need excuses. Especially Aziraphale. He sets up this whole ball for Nina and Maggie (partially) so he can ask Crowley to dance for the first time, but he’s there every day! You can just ask him to dance any time! He still denies having a “special” person to amnesia Gabriel. He doesn’t remember anything! Literally everyone in Heaven and Hell and also Earth think you’re an item now anyway! Just say the words!
The nudge for him was the Metatron’s offer. Taking charge of Heaven. Crowley at his side. They can make the Good guys truly Good. No one to question whether they belonged together. Happy ending.
Crowley’s nudge, of course, was Nina and Maggie telling him to goddamn say something. And I don’t think any of them realize it, but that had to be his conversation. If the two ladies had come over and talked to Aziraphale the same way (solo), he’d throw all his defenses back up and that would have been the end of it. If they’d talked to angel and demon together, well. These two are idiots. Aziraphale and Crowley would have refused to take the conversation seriously, talked circles around their guests, and left for their breakfast, laughing together over those humans and their ideas.
So for Crowley to get his nudge, he had to be alone when they visited, and for that to happen, Aziraphale had to go have his talk with the Metatron. Aziraphale had to get a perfect enough option to overcome his anxiety, and for that he needed his chat.
Now, am I saying that without the Metatron’s interference they never ever would have moved forward? Maybe. They’re complete idiots, your honor.
Maybe not, though. As I said, they just watched another angel and demon go off together. Would that be enough for Crowley to realize that, hey, actual communication sometimes has good results? Would that be close enough to a perfect ending to assuage Aziraphale’s fears?
I don’t know if we can say for sure. But I’ve been trying to play out that last scene in the bookshop differently to find where the path to the happy ending was, and I think this is the answer. Aziraphale needed to not go to the Metatron at all. They needed to be on their way before Nina and Maggie decided to visit. And then… somewhere in the talking and drinking that followed, one of them would have to take a risk.
And like, have you met these two? They’d be dooooooomed…
#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable divorce#ineffable idiots#good omens meta#good omens 2 spoilers#crowley#aziraphale#aziraphale and crowley#good omens prime
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Jacket
Mattheo riddle x Fem!Reader
Fluff
Pansy had been persistently asking me all week to join her at the Slytherin party today, and I finally gave in and decided to go.
I'm not really one for parties, but what harm could one party do? Especially since it was a celebration of our victory in the quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.
I started getting ready, with Pansy next to me, curling her brown locks.
"Should I go for the red dress or the green one?" I asked, holding up each dress for Pansy to see.
"Oh, definitely the green one," she replied.
I swiftly changed into the short green dress and applied some light makeup to my face. "Let's go," Pansy exclaimed with excitement as we descended the stairs into the Slytherin common room.
The party was already in full swing. Red solo cups overflowed with drinks, and the students swayed to music booming from a single Bluetooth speaker.
"So, what should we do first?" I asked, flashing a gentle smile.
"Drinks, obviously," Pansy replied matter-of-factly. We made our way over to the table adorned with various glasses, filled with alcoholic concoctions.
I approached the table and generously poured myself some Malibu into my cup. I quickly drank half of it before refilling it again.
"I think we should go dance," I enthusiastically proposed to my companion.
We both made our way towards the dance floor, and as soon as I joined the group, I could feel their contagious energy. I let myself go, dancing and enjoying the music, occasionally taking sips from my cup. I danced with strangers, letting loose and feeling the electrifying atmosphere.
After a few songs, I decided to step out of the group to refill my cup. That's when I noticed someone staring at me.
Mattheo Riddle.
I noticed the intensity of his gaze as I made my way to the table, refilled my drink, and continued dancing. It felt as if his eyes were exploring every contour of my body, studying the way I moved to the rhythm of the music.
He observed every accidental touch from others and his gaze pierced through anyone who boldly grabbed my waist to dance with me.
Curiosity sparked within me as I saw him approach the couch where our friends were previously seated before joining us on the dance floor.
I approached him, standing tall above him as he sat on the blanket. "Are you done eye-fucking me?" I snapped.
"Well, not exactly.” He chuckled, “I was rather enjoying myself," he responded with a smirk, taking a sip from his cup.
I sat down next to him, feeling the effects of the alcohol I had consumed. "You're disgusting, Mattheo."
"Don’t deny it sweetheart, you know you like it when I speak to you that way," he remarked.
I rolled my eyes and shivered as the air conditioning turned on. It's funny how, even at a party which would usually reak of sweat and sex; magic can be used to regulate the temperature and prevent things from getting too hot and sweaty.
"Are you shivering because you're nervous around me, or are you just cold?" Mattheo smirked.
"I'm cold, you dipshit," I sneered.
Suddenly, I felt warm fabric being draped over my shoulders. I glanced over my shoulder, glare still in place, to see Mattheo holding his green jacket, offering it to me.
"What's with the face? I'm just trying to keep you warm," he argued.
"Stop hitting on me," I snapped back.
"Why?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"You know why. I'm Enzo's little sister, which means I'm off-limits. Besides, I don't even like you," I chuckled.
"Whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you catch a cold or something," he ordered.
I slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne and savoring the warmth. "Thanks," I mumbled.
"You look attractive in my clothes," he smirked, to which I responded by playfully smacking him on the arm.
"Ugh, I can't stand you," I mumbled, attempting to hide my smile.
"Oh, you don't actually hate me," he chuckled once again.
Despite knowing that he's off-limits and that I should despise him, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was the influence of alcohol, but without thinking, I reached out and firmly grasped his face. Our lips collided.
The kiss shared between us is filled with sweetness and passion, as if we had both been longing for this moment for an eternity.
I can feel his hands finding their way to my waist, while I securely wrap mine behind his neck.
In an instant, I swing my leg over and settle into his lap, straddling him.
Eventually, we part our lips, both of us gasping for air, as our foreheads press together.
"I always knew you had feelings for me," he playfully teases.
I can't help but giggle, resting my head on his shoulder.
"Pansy, come on!" Enzo's voice suddenly interrupts, calling out for me.
"Shit," I quickly jumped off Rafe and nonchalantly positioned myself to the side of him. Pansy and Enzo were approaching us.
"Guys, we're ready to go," Pansy groaned.
"Yeah, okay," I stumbled over my words, still feeling a bit shaken from earlier.
Mattheo and I both stood up from the couch, eager to make our way back to the dorms.
As we walked, I grabbed Mattheo's arm, allowing Pansy and Enzo to move ahead of us. I began to take off his jacket when he stopped me.
"Keep it. It looks better on you," he whispered.
A smile crept onto my face as I playfully responded, "You're such a dork."
"Come to my dorm tonight, Dracos staying with Astoria," he suggested.
"All right," I replied, returning a peck on his lips before darting ahead to catch up with Enzo and Pansy. As I did, a thought crossed my mind: What exactly am I getting myself into?
#cloveswifey#mattheo x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x you#mattheoxreader#Mattheo riddle.#Harry Potter#Slytherin#Slytherin party#pansy parkinson#draco malfoy#Tom riddle#enzo birkshire#harry potter imagine#Slytherin imagine#one shot#romance#love#party#sarah cameron#jj maybank#outerbanks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#obx#outer banks imagine#sarah cameron imagine
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can you please write something for Tom where he's like sooo in love with the reader but also really in denial and a bit scared cause he's never been in love before/ felt like this? (I know this sounds mega kitschy)
i love your account so much, everything is so pretty on here!!
thank you my love, i hope i didnt disappoint c:
ᡣ𐭩 tom, a dummy in a denial
tom was your friend. your rock. you don’t remember how it happened, but as soon as the two of you met, sparks flew. not in the way that you think, god no! the two of you couldn’t ever imagine being anything other than friends. more than friends, right? well, so you think ..
as tom grabbed his car keys, he ushered bill to be at the doorstep in ten seconds or he would leave without him, “fuck! tom! i can’t find my rings..” with a scoff, tom rolled his eyes already beginning to open the front door, “just leave without them! we’re gonna be late.”
“what’s got you in a rush? it’s a goddamn house party..” bill skipped down the stairs fumbling to now put his shoes on. as tom ran his hand through his hair, he hesitates to respond, not really sure what DOES have him in a rush.
as bill waits for his older brother to respond, seeing as how he breaks out in a cold sweat he can’t help but realize now, letting out a small laugh, “oh..” “oh what?” “it’s cause you want to see y/n,” and tom can’t help but widen his eyes and so hard they might pop out of his eye sockets.
“what?? pshh, i don’t know what you’re talking about—i mean—me and y/n are friends, best friends!” bill pushes tom out the door as the two walk to tom’s new cadillac. “for someone who you consider a best friend, you’re so eager to see her.” tom sarcastically laughs at bill, “i am not!!” “yeah, lemme know when you’re done being in denial, tom, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”
upon arrival, both the kaulitz twins enter the house already booming with house music. loud voices and laughs were shared, dancing, engaging and talking, making out, drinking. but there you stood. standing there, solo cup in your hand, laughing with a couple of your girlfriends as you sip on the alcoholic drink.
you looked amazing, tom had to blink twice to truly comprehend it was you. what am i even saying—of course he knew it was you. you were no lesser than a diamond to his eyes. the way your dress hugged tightly around your curves, glossy lips and hair ever so shiny. you were his aphrodite.
“stop staring and let’s go talk to her!” bill exclaimed pulling tom by his arms, “what’re you doing?? stop!” “tom cut the bullshit right now before i slap you in the face—hey y/n! how are you??” he cuts himself midway as bill nagged at tom while pulling him to where you stood.
“bill! oh my god hi!! ‘m feeling good tonight, hi tom!” you wave at tom before pulling him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his body, not noticing at how he tensed up around your presence now. “hi y/n..” you tilted your head to the side, ‘hi y/n?’ what kind of a greeting was that?
you hold one of tom’s hands, running a thumb over the back of his hand. he swears his heart fell out of his ass as he choked on his spit but tried to conceal it, “you okay tom?” “yeah! perfectly fine! now where’s the alcohol??” he grabd a bottle immediately pouring himself a shot, downing it within the quick ten seconds of having poured it, fire trickling down his throat.
tom needs liquid courage. he’s never really realized that he’s felt a certain way for his best friend. she now makes him, nervous. like he needs to find the perfect words to say in order to put a smile on her face. as if he doesn’t already do that. but now, it’s different. he can’t fuck this up. he’s scared, alcohol will do the trick for sure!
“easy there tiger!” bill giggles as you look at his twin brother in confusion. bill can only shrug, as he walks off to go find georg and gustav who are already drunk off their minds dancing in the living room. you focus your attention back on tom who already seems like he’s had four more shots in the time that you only spent exchanging looks w bill.
with a gasp, you swiftly grab the bottle and shot glasses from tom and head towards the dance floor. you hold tom’s hands and give him a little spin. “seems like ya had fun with those shots eh?” “mmhm.. glad to see you y/n, been a while :),” and you perk up, smiling at tom who’s hip swayed in rhythm with yours.
wanting to spice things up a bit (with your bestfriend?) you hold tom’s waist, pressing it flush against yours. if it weren’t for the dim, flashing lights, you would see how red tom’s face is. and it’s not from the alcohol. he can’t help but open his mouth in shock, hiding his face in your neck.
“y/n..” “mmhm?” he whispers in your ears, tom now has his arms wrapped around your waist as you slowly danced with one another. arms engulfing his neck, you push it even further to your ear, almost sending tom into an orbit of emotion. but it seems as though the alcohol has caught up to him.
dizzy, he can only rock side to side now as the two of you stand. it’s now quiet between the two of you, with only music to fill in the silence. admittedly, tom speaks before he thinks as he mumbles a “god you are just so breathtaking tonight y/n..” well, that was a first, you immediately latch him off your body and hold his shoulders to get a good look at him.
his head is lolled down as it looks as if it’s being hung of his body. you can see a dopey smile plastered on his face as the rest of him is like putty within your hands, doing as it’s told while you simply hold him straight. oh, he’s fucking drunk, and he might puke. you remember the last time the two of you were out together he gets all giggly and loopy before needing to let it all out. the little details matter.
“oh no, we need to get some fresh air,” you hug his body against your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you make your way towards the balcony. shoving through the crowd of people, you are met with bill, gustav and georg who stop you in your tracks. “y/n! where are you going??” “to get your brother some fresh air!” jokingly, georg screams a ‘seems like you care about him!’ and you scream back ‘i do!’ without hesitance.
a coo is heard from your side as you look down to tom who’s body is slumped against yours. opening the slide door, he whines “aww, you care about me?” “shut up tom,” and he dramatically pouts before holding himself on the railing of the balcony, taking in the fresh, cold air to somewhat rid of his nausea.
you lean on the railway, looking at your best friend whose movements are extremely sluggish and slow. you pat his back, following by rubbing circles on it, feeling the cotton of his black t-shirt which, made him look really good. his hair was tied back in a low bun, as his sunglasses hung off the collar of his shirt. how could such a simple outfit make someone look so good?
after a few moments of silence being exchanged between one another. tom finally backs off the railing to bring back up all the shots he drank without eating prior to it, puking it all into a plant pot for, let’s say, plant purposes! you wince at the noises but can only hope that plant is a plant the house owner neglects and doesn’t see the puke.
spitting out the remnants, tom immediately feels better. but he can’t bring himself to face you, not after embarrassing himself in front of the girl he found out to have liked since the beginning of time. you notice this, and soften a gaze at his back, muscles defined through the thin fabric. with a tap of his shoulder, he hesitantly turns to be met with you holding out a water bottle.
thanking you, he immediately twists open the cap to drink the water, downing almost half the bottle. as he almost finishes it, he places the bottle onto the ladder attached to the railing, now holding onto it again, leaning his head on it as he stares at you. you were looking through the sliding door glass admiring bill, georg and gustav dancing. looks like they’re having an amazing time!
“oh god, i can’t believe how much i adore you..” you jerk your head to look at tom so fast you swore you gave yourself whiplash, “what!?” “oh fuck—sorry—i don’t know what came over me.. pretend you didn’t hear that.” you mouth hangs open in disbelief, pretend you didn’t hear that!? what is he talking about??
you step closer to him as he pretends to look away into the stars of the night sky, “tom!! look at me and tell me what you said..” your expectant, you wanted to hear those words again. you couldn’t believe it, the best friend whom you’ve liked for so many years might reciprocate your feelings. you hold onto that hope as much as possible. as his eyes dart in many directions but yours, you shift your head quickly enough to always meet his gaze.
“mmm fine..! i said i adore you..” “why thank you, i adore you too..” wanting to make a little joke out of it, seeming as though you adore him just as a best friend and nothing more, “no, no not like that y/n. god i can’t believe it took me this many years to realize how i truly felt about you,” and he licks his lips, becoming dry with anxiety. you cross your arms, “and what is it that you feel about me?”
“well, for starts, i love you. i love you so much y/n that i couldn’t see myself with anyone but you. why it took me so long? i—i don’t know i think i was scared?? felt as if my whole life i was incapable of loving or even being loved. my whole life i’ve been through materialistic relationships, temporary relationships, relationships with a motive.. was scared you were gonna end up as one of those so i, didn’t take the risk.. ‘m hearts never skipped a beat before until you. until you, i’ve never felt so content with life, i want to be your boyfriend but you obviously don’t have to say yes we just can remain friends—”
“tom!!” you interrupted midway through his rambling, he just stops in his tracks, “you didn’t even ask how i felt! you only assumed i wouldn’t return the feeling,” and he bites his lips, goddamnittomyoustupidfuckingidiotyoushouldveletherspeak. leaning even further into the railway, he awaits your answer. nervous, an uncomfortable pit forming in his stomach expecting the worse. “oh! i um.. ha, sorry..”
you inhale a deep breath, exhaling as you clench your palms together, “you dummy, i love you too. i guess i’ve always adored you, a lot. it’s also hard for me to convey my feelings, dunno what it is, but hey! glad we got that out huh??” you giggle, smiling at tom, who has a cheeky grin plastered on his face. in a world full of complicated girls, you were simple. easygoing. it was as simple as that. he couldn’t be any more happier over the fact that the one for him considered him as her one. you immediately pull tom into a hug, who then awkwardly asks you to be his girlfriend, and of course, you said yes.
“i’m so into you, y/n.”
“i know!”
i dont have the knack to write fluff anymore .. im soo sorry anon T_T
i was inspired off these pics , just imagine tom looking up at you with those with those eyes after finding out you liked him too , cute !
#tokio hotel#tokio hotel x y/n#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fluff#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz fluff#2000s#fyp#billskeis
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Ro, darling
A and Q for Hideout Steve (I thought about requesting Z and then realised, for him, it’s everywhere 😂
For this ask game, and they are dirtayyyyyy.
Little different than general solo steve and I'll elaborate on when he's soft-spoken vs. loud (Low key hilarious that Hideout!Steve is soooooo sensitive and Fools!Steve is the polar opposite.)
MINORS DNI. I know you're sick of me saying it, but this is not for youngsters. I will not hesitate to let you know when a fic is all-age friendly!
A - Alone Time
Let's start from the beginning. When 'Grant' first starting visiting the motel, he really didn't have any dreams/delusions/fantasies about having a love life, and since Steve always imagined he'd only have sex with someone he was able to court and know pretty well, he resigned himself to never finding someone until his exile ended. (Considering in canon, it never really ended, we see he had a point.)
Once something does develop between you, despite all odds, he gets to hope, and hope is a drug to Steve Rogers.
He doesn't have a lot of time where he's truly alone while bunking with Natasha and Sam--sometimes Wanda and Viz, too--so I feel like Steve has mastered the art of innocent imagination. When he thinks of you it's not graphic, not unless he can be in a separate room or, preferably, building than the rest of his group.
They all understand though. Each of them clammers for some distance as often as is safe.
Bathing marks the only real and consistent time Steve has alone, meaning you helping wash his hair in the tub counts as a double whammy to his fantasies.
There was a lot of crossover in his dreams that night since the association is too strong. He touches himself in the shower, you were in the bathroom with him, and thus, he dreamt of you touching him in the shower. He woke up to that being almost the reality, too, so that wet dream has been pretty consistently on repeat.
From that point on, the urge to imagine what could happen gets much worse. The group doesn't have a routine. They bounce from place to place and spend wildly different amounts of time in each location. To date, the motel is only one of three places they've stayed two times, and it is the only place they've gone back to more than twice. It's not fucking rocket science to understand what's so appealing to Steve that he nudges and hints at returning as often as is strategically plausible.
If by chance Steve actually gets a room to himself and is truly alone for a few hours, it's difficult not to take advantage, spread out, and sleep, however, but he sleeps even better after writhing around as a horny mess for about twenty minutes, working himself up, humping the mattress and his hand, moaning into the pillows like a whore (at least he thinks he sounds like those 'painted' women back in the '30s and '40s), and coming hard on his abs. He vaguely knows he's a glutton for punishment by how long he tries to milk his orgasm. It works though. He can last a bit longer now--even with the vivid memory of what it feels like to be inside you--yet he doesn't really need to last when his alone time is so limited. Should he...practice that? Should he be trying to hold out longer?
Dillema!
Q - Quiet Please
sjdbviuarb;viubsnlvk
oops, sorry, got lost in my thots about how loud Steve can get while fucking you. Honestly, if you two have enough privacy, he's even goddamn noisy while eating you out.
As I hope I've established many times, Steve Rogers in any universe can't talk dirty to save his life. He can lie better than he can say words like 'fuck,' or 'cunt,' and will never ever say the word 'pussy' in reference to your body or a cat (now that he knows what some people use the term for). I have no clue why 'cunt' would be better than 'pussy,' but 🤷🏻♀️ this is my headcanon so here we go. He uses any curse words so seldom that it doesn't really matter. He'd have to be pretty surprised by the intensity of something or at peak possessiveness to utter stuff like that. (If he has to reference it, usually he just says "you're so wet," "you're squeezing me so tight," or "do you need me?" Very general, no bad words required.)
ANYWHO: volume.
As much as I ::melts:: love the idea of Steve getting louder when he's tired, he has grown to enjoy the thrill of being quiet and sneaky.
He's got to get his kicks somewhere, right? So he's almost trained himself to be completely silent (to the point of holding his breath, which is a whole other kink for way later) while he imagines that you can travel with them for some reason. It's a fantasy; he hasn't worked out the details. He'd still want to be buried inside you or fingering you till you come if you had to share a room with the group for a night. He'll be quiet if you will. They'll never know. He promises. Please, Tops. Please. He wants to touch you, to hold you, to feel you everywhere...
Yup, Steve can be silent as the grave or hitting opera notes; it's all good as long as he gets to be with you.
Thank you for asking!
[Main Masterlist; Hideout Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
One more cowboy cat for the road!
#ro answers#dirty asks#ask game#hideout series#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers smut#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x reader smut#steve rogers x you#nomad steve
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୨୧- CHAPTER FOUR, blame it! - ୨୧
summary: you go to a party with your friends and see ellie, you try avoiding her the whole night but when she sees you talking to an old friend, her blood boils and she just has to say something.
c/n: alcohol usage, strong language, jealous!ellie, you and ellie argue ( kinda idk ), and ellie going crazy..again.
a/n: idk why this took me so long to finish but here you guys go! come get y’all juice!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️
series masterlist! - chapter four ➝ chapter five!
"girl I'm outside hurry up," ashlesha said as she tapped her nails on her grey leathered steering wheel as she signaled for nari to scoot over to the other seat with her bag. “I’m coming outside just let me grab my bag and I’ll be right out,” you answer back while fixing your lip liner and ending the call. you walk out of the house and head straight for ashlesha’s car, “girl we thought you were gonna take 18 years and 5 business days to get ready..” nari says as she fixes her blush in her small mirror. “oh please I didn’t even take that long..now let’s go, I’m ready to down some tequila and henny.” you all laugh as ashlesha takes the car out park and puts it back in drive. 30 minutes later, as soon as it hits 8, you all finally make it to the party. “I’m telling y’all..if ellie is here I’m leaving..” you say but get pushed infront of the door by your two friends, “GIRL GOOOO SHE’S NOT HERE!!” nari says, putting her hand on her hip, and groaning.
“ok ok!” you push open the door and walk in as ashlesha and nari follow behind you. you all rush to the kitchen for that well known red solo cup and only a few cranberry and hennessy shots later, you all are on the couch laughing your asses off at the littlest things and then you see her. the one person you didn’t wanna see was right across the room, in the corner, looking down into her cup, and her eyes suddenly dart towards yours as if she knew you were looking at her. she smiles slightly and looks back into her cup but god if you only knew..while she looked unbothered, she was sweating and panicking. “oh my god she’s here? MY PRAYERS!! MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!” she thought to herself and had to stop herself from screaming at the top of her goddamn lungs.
you furrowed your brows and huffed looking at your friends, “you guys said she wasn’t gonna be here” you groaned and playfully hit them both and they giggled. “it’s not funny cmon I wanna go home” you frowned and laid your head on nari’s shoulder. “you should go talk to her” nari says as she pats your head, “no way I don’t wanna talk to her” you sigh and look to your left and see dina and jesse making out in a corner like some freakishly horny crazy highschool teens. “ugh..get a room..” you roll your eyes and look to your right and see a very familiar face, “oh my god? jasmine?” you gasp and she looks at you, “y/n? oh my gosh, hey gorgeous!” you stand up and she comes over and hugs you. ellie sees this and immediately her face drops from “omg my favorite sexy ex that I miss so much is here!!” to “who the actual fuck is that touching her. what the hell.” she clenches her jaw as she watches you two from the corner of the room, her face hot and red.
the more and more you and jasmine laughed and giggled the more ellie felt herself losing her cool. she knew she was your ex now and she knew she couldn’t just march over there but the alcohol was kicking in and she was feeling bold. she walked over to you and jasmine and put her hand on your shoulder, “can I borrow her for a sec? yes? ok thanks.” ellie says as she pulls you away from jasmine who looks extremely confused. “what the hell ellie? what do you want?” you turn to her and say while she just stares at you, pulling her hand away from you and biting the inside of her cheek. “y/n are you doing this on purpose?” she says which makes you tilt your head and show visible confusion to her question. “what the fuck are you talking about?” you’re frustrated, folding your arms and leaning against the wall while she just stares at you trying to get you to fess up about whatever she thinks you’re doing.
all of a sudden, ellie’s face turns red out of embarrassment realizing you actually weren’t trying to make her jealous and that she probably needed to sober up from the alcohol. she rubbed her neck and opened her mouth to speak when she didn’t even get a chance because you immediately read her like a book once you saw her face turn red. “you’re jealous aren’t you?” you squint and almost laugh, “we aren’t together anymore els..move on please.” you say while pushing yourself off the wall to walk away.“whatever..there’s no one better than me anyway.” she now crosses her arms as yours fall to your sides. “oh fuck you. you sound like a man.” you roll your eyes and walk off while ellie flips you off and you can hear her mutter “fuck you too.” and you start giggling to yourself as you walk back over to jasmine.
as it got later on into the night you, nari, and ashlesha all fall asleep on the couch and around 3 in the morning you feel someone shaking you awake. “y/n? Y/NNNN!!! GIRL GET UP LET’S GO.” nari lightly slaps your face trying to wake you up and you start to open your eyes. “ughhhh my head hurts...I have a fucking headache what the hell.” you rub your head and look up at nari, “how many shots did I take?” you ask as she shrugs and looks at ashlesha for the answer but she just shrugs too. “god..can we go back to my place?? you guys can just stay until it’s finally morning.” you sit up from the couch and stretch. “yeah..can we order wingstop when they open? I’m fucking starving and I could fuck up some mango habanero wings right now…a cow even.” nari says while patting her stomach while you pick up your things and follow behind your friends who left the house. “do you think dunkin donuts is open? I need something sweet like now. I feel like a pregnant woman bossing around her wife and child.” nari says as you all fucking lose it while ashlesha starts driving back to your house, still laughing her ass off.
meanwhile with ellie though…
“oh cmon ellie..it couldn’t have been that bad...I hope…” dina says as she pats ellie’s back as she ugly cries into her hands about how much she fucked up that small interaction she had with you a few hours ago at the party. “well I mean..it could’ve gone worse.” jesse says as he chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair, “wow thanks jess, that totally makes me feel better!!” ellie says sarcastically which makes jesse huff and roll his eyes. “all she said was fuck you ellie..she could’ve like slapped you for even pulling her away or cussed you out even more for everyone at the party to hear.” he says while falling back on ellie’s bed and staring up at the ceiling. “jesse, you’re gonna send the girl into cardiac arrest please stop.” she looks at him and hits him on his arm, “well call me kevin gates because you know exactly what happens next after the cardiac arrest.” he laughs while dina and ellie turn to look at him with the most “shut the fuck up” expressions ever. “bad timing?..sorry.” he mutters and looks away.
“obviously?? and stop with that kevin gates video, it’s making me feel extremely ill.” dina says as she shakes her head and sighs, “ellie you really need to talk to y/n…SOBER and IN THE RIGHT MIND.” as soon as dina said that, ellie immediately stopped her ugly crying and side-eyed her so hard. “no shit dina..no shit..and stop yelling in my EAR because I’m right NEXT TO YOU.” ellie says as she wipes her face with her sleeve and goes to the kitchen for a tissue to blow her nose. dina looks at jesse and shakes her head, “man..she’s hooked on this girl..I feel bad because y/n may not come around and she’s on her bad bad BADDD.” dina scratched her head while jesse nodded in agreement.
ellie came back into the room and sat back down on the bed, “so what should I do? it’s only been like a week since our breakup. I can’t just say I wanna get back together now..” ellie groans and grabs her pillow that jesse was laying on, “hey! I was laying on that..” jesse sits up and frowns, “well that’s too damn bad.” ellie scoffs and hides her face in the pillow. “I say give it a few more weeks or a month maybe??” jesse says in response to what she said earlier which she freaks out about. “A MONTH?? ARE YOU CRAZY? she’ll already have moved on by then..I’ll just give it a few more weeks maybe, hopefully, she’ll unblock me on everything and talk to me...if not I’ll have to text her off one of my lurking accounts.” ellie sighs and rubs her temples, “I’m sorry did you just say ONE OF?? AS IN THERE’S MORE THAN ONE??” dina looks at her with pure concern as ellie turns to her and makes a face that says “uhm hello???? obviously???….”
“why do you need more than one?? one is enough to lurk at her..bro what is your problem?” dina blinks a few times before turning away from her and shaking her head in disbelief and disappointment. “in case she finds out it’s me and blocks me? duhhh like I need to have multiple accounts. it’s a necessity when it comes to lurking..you wouldn’t know anyway.” ellie rolls her eyes and nudges dina. “ok so like what if she presses all new accounts made will be blocked??” jesse blurts out which makes ellie’s neck snap towards him and she throws the pillow at him. “take that back NOW. do not manifest that negative energy into my life jesse.” she frowns and gets up, grabs her phone from her desk, and goes onto instagram. “now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go do my daily lurking on y/n’s account.” ellie says with a smile while jesse and dina groan in unison.
tags: @elsmissingfingers @astrcmoni @cowgirlcherrie @theganymedes @ximtiredx @ellieswifee @liabadoobee 🩷🩷
#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#modern!ellie williams#jealous!ellie#jealous!elliewilliams#dina the last of us#dina tlou#jesse tlou#jesse the last of us#brackishkittie
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