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#time for some smut
houserautha · 1 month
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Only Pleasure Remains
Summary: Feyd-Rautha has other uses for the mouth of the Fremen prisoner refusing to talk.
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x GNFremen!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: he fucks your face, it’s nonconsensual, you kind of like it anyway, smut without plot, you get a facial, WITH his black cum because that’s too iconic of a HC not to include, he gets his happy ending but you don’t get yours. Literally.
A/N: I don’t think a Fremen would ever allow this to actually happen but I’m a whore and a slave to my simpler urges. Not gonna lie I wanted this to happen in the movie. Does this even make sense? I don’t know but it’s hot
The inner walls of the ruined sietch is a brief relief from the oppressive heat beating down on the desert planet. Feyd-Rautha discovers a group of his men restraining a prisoner, sunlight pouring in from the hole over their heads. As they notice him they break apart, revealing you to him for the first time since he received news of a survivor.
You’re covered in sandy grime and blood, the nose piece of your stillsuit dangling free, hair dirtied and loose from its previous style.
And you look fucking beautiful on your knees, even with your face wrenched in disgust and utter defiance. Feyd-Rautha didn’t expect to feel such an intense attraction to a Fremen. In fact, he reserves a moment to study you, to confront his desire like an untamed beast — pry open its mouth and examine its teeth.
“They refuse to talk,” one of the Harkonnen soldiers says. He nudges you with the nose of the lasgun and you snarl — you actually snarl — upper lip pulled back, blue-on-blue eyes glinting with hatred.
A trapped animal, desperate for freedom. Feyd-Rautha feels his cock stir.
“For now,” he says. He raises a hand. “Leave us.”
The soldiers exchange indecipherable glances before leaving, ducking back out into the blazing sun. Feyd-Rautha steps as close to you as he dares. Even with your limbs bound, he’s certain that you would do anything in your power to maim him.
“Your silence rings empty among the cries of those you loved,” he tells you. He towers over you, a sentinel of dangerous, crackling energy, wreathed in black armor. “The others are gone. Dead. What service is your silence to them?”
You stare up at him with your seething gaze.
Feyd-Rautha crouches beside you. Your hostility is nearly enough to bowl him over, a tangible, living creature between you.
“If you deny me this now, I will have no choice but to make you.”
He lifts a gloved hand to your cheek, lovingly whispering his fingers over the curve of your face before grabbing your chin. His grasp is enough to spring tears to your eyes, causing you to bite your tongue and draw blood, its coppery taste filling your mouth.
You should hate him. He stands for everything you’ve rallied against. Hell, he had just ordered his men to obliterate your home, your people. Yet you find yourself incomprehensibly drawn to this man who exudes power as effortlessly as others can breathe. It infuriates you. Revolts you.
Your aching, traitorous body pools with heat as Feyd-Rautha parts your lips and forces his thumb into your mouth. Sand grits over your teeth. His gloves taste of dry leather. Of blood; though it could very well just be your own. He presses his thumb down with enough force to shatter your jaw.
Feyd-Rautha rasps, “Then, since you refuse to speak, I will give your mouth a different purpose.”
He wrests his hand from your chin and pain explodes through your skull.
Feyd-Rautha rises once more to his formidable height and works to liberate his cock from his armor. You watch, horrified, transfixed, as he pulls his pants down just enough to show his powerful thighs and reveal a stomach taunt with muscles. His cock springs free and he wastes no time wrapping his hand at the base and stroking it fervently, all the while gazing down at you with naked, unfettered devotion.
And for some reason the sight of him like that transcends you, strips you completely bare. Your entire body trembles.
The na-Baron fists the hair at the back of your head and, without preamble, guides you to his cock, groaning as the warmth and wetness of your mouth envelops him. Anger flaring, you bite down as hard as you’re able — but instead of revoking himself, Feyd-Rautha snaps his hips, driving him deeper into your mouth instead.
He pants his appreciation, clearly undeterred by your teeth.
You gag on his size. He refuses to ease up, however, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. With each thrust, saliva builds, leaking from the sides of your mouth and wetting his shaft. You have no way to retaliate, to pull away, forced to endure him.
He withdraws long enough to show you the glint of pre-cum on his cock, how he spreads it across the head before burrowing it inside you again. The taste of his pre-cum is salty, mixing with your blood, and you can no longer deny your own arousal — you clamp your lips on his cock and suck, using your tongue to circle the salty mixture over it.
Feyd-Rautha releases a rumbling, guttural moan, hips bucking violently. “That’s right,” he rasps. “Take it.” He ignores your strangled pleas as he pushes himself deeper and deeper within you, tears now streaming down your face and cutting tracks through the sandy grime. He pulls out only to insert himself again, in and out, fucking your throat.
You’re unable to touch yourself, or him, and it makes the entire act that much more torturous. You apply this frustration with your mouth, sucking his considerable length every time he jams it past your lips, your mouth and jaw aching with the furious nature of the fucking.
Feyd-Rautha closes his eyes and loses himself in your slick mouth. He has just laid waste to your people and now you were taking him like the good little rat you were, a renegade whore, letting him force his cock down your throat and you were actually enjoying it.
Without warning, Feyd-Rautha withdraws from you, stroking his shaft and positioning himself before you. “Open,” he demands.
You obey and as soon as you do, warm sprays of his ink-colored cum soak your face. He jerks himself through his orgasm, breathy and primal, smooth brows furrowed in concentration. You breathe heavily, shoulders heaving, greedily drawing the air back into your lungs. It’s then that Feyd-Rautha drags his gloved fingers across your face, smearing his cum then pushing his fingers back into your mouth. You lick and slurp down his seed, languishing in the taste of him, unlike anything you’ve had before.
To offer your expense to a Fremen is to offer your life’s water. You don’t know if he realizes this, or even cares, he just watches you as you suck his gloved fingers clean.
Feyd-Rautha does know this sacrifice, this offering, and thinks it a just trade for what he’s prepared to do. He rights himself, fixing his armor. “Strange, what you wish to comply with,” he says. He leaves you like that — bound and covered with his cum, vulnerable — and as he vanishes around the corner you hear him call out, “Dispose of the rat.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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full inspection
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words: 2.1k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub dynamic, mentions of previous self harm! including scars, inspecting body, descriptions of body but i try to keep things vague ish when it comes to features, p in v sex, unprotected sex, anal fingering, illusions to future anal sex, rafe does inspect readers feet but not really in a foot fetishy way? it is a FULL inspection lol
“mouth first today, bunny.” rafe says, tapping your cheek.
you nod, opening up your mouth for his fingers to poke inside of.
the routine is familiar by now, every morning, you wake up to rafes inspections. his fingers glide over your cheeks, then your teeth.
“you did a good job brushing last night, bun.” rafe says, pulling his finger back to your lips, swiping over them as you open up, sticking your tongue out.
his finger glides down your tongue, pushing further and further until his fist is pressing against your teeth. you try your best to control your gag reflex, waiting for rafe to finish his inspection before coughing.
the second his finger pulls back, you take a deep breath.
“you did it, baby!” rafe praises you, tapping your nose. “you didn't gag!”
you smile up at rafe, swallowing to get the tickle out of your throat. “wanna be good for you.”
“i know, bun. since you're so good, why don't you choose what's next up for inspections?” rafe usually moves to your hands next, checking to make sure there's not any bitten nails or chipped polish.
“umm…” you glance down, small nightgown barely covering your body, nothing on underneath. “my uh…” you know what you want, just are too afraid to say it.
“out with it baby.”
“my chest.”
“aww.” rafe chuckles. “baby girl wants her titties inspected next? sounds good.”
rafe tugs your nightgown up, bunching up the silky fabric, eyes devouring your pushed together thighs, the peek of your slit between them, until your tits are revealed and his attention is pulled there instead.
“mmm, such cute little nipples.” rafe uses both his hands to inspect them, first rubbing around the outside of breasts before moving closer, fingers playing with your nipples to make sure they harden like they should.
“very good, baby.” rafe says, hands massaging your chest.
“thank you.” you look down your body, so clearly on display for rafe. 
“what about this cute tummy, huh?” he pats your stomach. its not part of his usual inspections, but rafe loves to give a kiss to your tummy, warm lips making contact with your skin, almost always making you giggle.
rafe moves lower, ignoring your core to scooch down the bed to your feet, picking up one and laying it in his lap. his hands run over your sole before looking at your toes, checking that your polish hasn’t chipped, otherwise he’d be getting on the phone to make a pedicure appointment for you before he even finishes inspections.
he lifts your other foot into his lap next, rubbing his thumbs over your foot, making you let out a low moan at the massage.
“so pretty for me baby.” rafe says, allowing himself to appreciate your flawless feet.
“just for you.” you giggle, wiggling your toes.
“thats right.” rafe smiles, hands moving up your legs to your calves, quickly inspecting them before moving to your thighs. you keep your legs closed until rafe nods to give you permission to open them, not wanting to get punished for baring your cunt too early.
“such a pretty pussy.” rafe coos, a singular finger swiping through your center. “but i think we need to inspect your hands first.”
“raaafe.” you whine out, cunt clenching around nothing at his teasing as he grabs your hands. he makes sure to very thoroughly inspect them now that your cunt is spread open for him, his eyes flicking between your manicured nails and your wetness.
“don’t be bratty. you know its important for me to look over every part of you.” rafe says, flipping your hands over so he can rub his thumbs over your palms before skirting down your wrists, frowning at the few scars in lines that interrupt your skin.
“won’t happen again.” you whisper to rafe. its true, your time of self harming and using it to cope is far over now that you have rafe. not only would he easily be able to tell if you started again with his daily inspections, but you don’t feel the need anymore.
“i know, baby.” rafe hums, raising your wrists to press kisses to them.
rafe moves up your arm, hands quickly checking them before his eyes turn back to your cunt.
rafe spreads your folds open with two fingers, smirking when he sees the way your clit pulses. he begins his usual work, rubbing around where you really want him, but you know he insists on inspecting every inch of you.
rafe plunges his finger into your entrance suddenly, making you gasp out, back arching off the bed at the intrusion, but rafe just chuckles.
he begins to thrust it in and out, rubbing the pad of his finger against your walls. “still nice and tight for me.” rafe hums. “good girl.”
“haven’t been touching myself without your permission.” you shake your head. it was the number one thing that used to cause you to fail inspections, touching yourself either while rafe was at work or while he slept next to you.
“i can tell.” rafe hums, slowing his finger making your eyes flutter closed, a moan escaping from your lips. he switches back and forth between fast, hard thrusts, and slowly deep ones, never letting you know what the next movement is going to be.
“clit next.” rafe suddenly pulls his finger out, making you squeal.
“shh.” he hums, taking the same wettened finger to rub over your clit. for how seriously he takes inspections, he moves on quickly from your clit, barely swiping over it before moving on.
“rafe.” you whine, hoping your pout and fluttering eyes will entice him to continue further.
“shush. flip over.” rafe sits back while you flip onto your stomach, nightgown still bunched around your chest.
rafe smiles at the way you plump ass is presented to him. he rubs his hands quickly over your back, then skips your bum to go to your legs.
“are we doing a full inspection today?” you mutter, turning your head to look down your body at rafe. it's not every day he has the time to do his favorite part of inspections.
“oh yes.” he smirks, tapping your thigh. you know instantly what to do, raising onto your hands and knees and spreading your legs apart. 
“cute little hole.” rafe smirks, your bum presented to him. he rubs his hands over your cheeks first, squeezing your skin and even shaking it a little to see the way your flesh ripples.
rafe keeps one hand holding you open while the other one comes to your second hole, circling around it. you take a deep breath and plead your body to relax as you wait for the intrusion, letting out a quiet mewl when rafe pushes his fingertip into your hole, slowly to let you adjust as he buries it. rafe hums in approval from the way you clench so tightly around his digit.
“a+, baby.” rafe pulls his finger out. you've never gotten a completely perfect inspection, always having at least one minor issue that needed correction.
“flip over.” he commands. you move quickly onto your back, keeping your knees pulled apart as you blink up at rafe. “what's next?” you question, hoping there is some sort of reward for being so good for rafe lately.
“you get your cunnie inspected again, but this time i use my cock.”
“really?” you squeal. usually rafe is strict about when he will fuck you. he doesn't like to give you anything too often, says it's to not spoil you rotten. he's lucky you don't mind just pleasuring him, whether with your hands or mouth.
“it's what good girls get.” rafe nods. he pulls his tshirt off over his head, his muscles on full display while you wait excitedly.
“gonna keep being good for you.” you promise rafe. 
“yeah, you will know that you know you'll get this dick.” rafe chuckles, pushing his pants down his hips, your eyes widening when his cock springs free, already hard.
“go ahead.” rafe encourages you, moving to kneel between your legs. you can't help your grin as you sit up to wrap your hands around his cock.
“look at how tiny your hands are on my big cock.” rafe smirks as you gently stroke him. you love to feel him, love to hold him in your grip.
“can i give it a kiss?” you question, not looking up at rafe, eyes too focused between his thighs. rafe laughs, patting the back of your head, pushing you down slightly as an answer to your question.
you duck your head, kissing right at the tip of rafes cock before slowly smooching along his shaft before kissing back up the other side. 
“now lay back.” rafe hums. you are sad to let go of his cock but excited for what is coming next as you lay down, but not before tugging your nightgown the rest of the way off. you toss it on the floor to be dealt with later.
rafes hands press at your inner thighs, making them stretch even further as he lines his cock up, glad that your wetness has grown and he can push inside, not too easily with how tight you are around him, but enough for rafe to enter you in one steady stroke.
a moan works its way through your body, your thighs shaking under his hands, but he doesn’t let up as rafes hips begin to swing back and forth, feeling every inch of your walls with his cock.
“thats it, baby.” rafe moans when you clench around him. “so tight for me.” your hands fist in the bedsheets, wishing rafe was draped over you so you could kiss him and hold onto his shoulders, but you know rafe likes kneeling between your spread legs so he can look down on you. it also allows him to thrust faster as he slowly builds up speed.
“love your cock so much.” you whine out, back arching, nipples pebbling in the cool morning air.
“aww, you’re so sweet.” rafe smirks, letting out a chuckle when you pout, his voice condescending, mocking you for how much you’re enjoying it, despite rafes movements speeding up to pound into you.
“oh! oh f-fffffff.” you cut yourself off, remembering that rafe doesn’t like you swearing.
“touch yourself.” rafe grunts out. he’s not sure how much longer he can last, not when he was already turned on from inspecting you and having you kiss and worship his cock.
“thank you!” you manage to squeal out before your hand reaches between your thighs, using your fingertips to rub over your clit, hoping rafe is ready soon because you’re not sure how much longer you can hold back.
“you know what the final part of a full inspection is?” rafe questions. you try to think of what it could be, but your mind doesn’t work anymore, so filled with pleasure and thoughts of rafe that nothing else can get through.
“its seeing how good you take my cum.” rafe moans, moving quicker when you feel his cock swell inside of you, signaling how close he is. you rub faster at your clit as he delivers a few final punishing strokes before cumming with a groan, your own fingers rubbing you to orgasm seconds later as you whine out a series of rafes name over and over, your cunt pulsing around his cock, milking him.
“oh, thats a good girl.” rafe pats your lower stomach. “tummy all swelled up with my cum.”
you look down your body, and rafe is right, theres the slightest bulge from rafes cock being lodged deep inside of you and then stuffing you with cum.
“keep my cum inside of you for a minute and you’ll get an extra special reward.” rafe says as he pulls out, knowing you’re going to have to clench your hole for the entire minute with how much he flooded inside of you.
“okay.” you mumble, eyes closing as you concentrate as his cock pulls away, glad you practice kegels as you try to keep all his cum in. you know rafe is staring at your hole, waiting to see if anything leaks from your cunt. time passes quickly, thankfully, and rafe is tapping your thigh before you know it. “you did it, baby girl. that was an entire minute.”
“really?” you smile, proud of yourself as you relax, knowing his cum is going to leak on the bedsheets. “whats the special prize?”
“well, i inspected your pussy with my cock, and now its time for you ass.” rafe grins while your eyes widen.
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katabay · 3 months
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ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...
the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin
this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.
you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.
also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.
⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!
⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app
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becca-e-barnes · 11 months
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I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.
Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy
But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.
You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.
"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.
"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.
There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.
Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.
He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.
"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."
That's got your attention.
You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.
You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.
Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.
"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."
He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.
He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.
When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.
"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.
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meowpupp · 1 month
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tw://overstim, mentions of hard(?) kink, puppygirl smut, corruption kink, porn, very degrading/condescending, oral(m)
owner!price who finds out you, his new little puppygirl, is a virgin.
his head spins, cock twitching at the idea of corrupting your dumb little puppy-brain. he pins you to his lap, a hand gripping your jaw tight, forcing you to watch video after video of sweet puppygirls like you being violated by their owners.
each one is worse than the last, he deliberately chose the most filthy, degrading, perverted clips. he feels a little mean about it, conditioning your dumb little cunt to get wet at the idea of being ruined by him, but the thought is quickly forgotten as he sees how easy it is.
he doesn't let you look away for a second, making you watch as puppygirls are spat on, tied up, spanked, edged and overstimulated. his voice is a low grumble as he toys with you, teasingly tapping your clit as he spews filth.
“I know sweetheart, you wanna be bred like that pretty girl, hm? but only big girls get their owners cock. you're just a puppy, puppys are allowed to be bred, silly girl.”
“oh? I didn't think you were such a filthy little mutt, dripping all over me while you watch other poor pups be split open by cock.”
“shh shh shh, be good sweetheart. i know, I know, you think you're a big girl. but you're wrong. your little puppy-cunt can't even take my fingers.”
he torments you for what feels like hours, tapping your clit, groping your thighs, making you watch video after video. he doesn't stop until you've turned into a drippy, sensitive, whiny mess.
even then, he doesn't grant you any real relief, pushing you off his lap. he presses the smooth leather of his boot to your sensitive, swollen little clit, watching you hump it like a bitch in heat.
strokes his cock while he watches, pulling his boot away only a second before you cum. the sight of your ruined, tear streaked face is what sends him over the edge, painting your face with his hot, sticky cum.
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matchamiko · 1 month
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I think Bokuto is so intense and needy in bed. In a skinship, desperate to kiss you, hold you, touch you kinda way.
His favourite position is with you in top so you can wrap your forearms around his thick, bulging shoulders and bury your head in his throat. Chest to chest, his lips on your hair line or whimpering into your ear, his arms magnetised around your waist, hands spanning your back to under your arms, just shy of your breasts. Every part of you is always touching, bellies clenching and flexing against one another, thighs slipping and sliding from sweat and slick. His pubes mash against your clit with every grind, every pulse of his hips into yours.
And Bokuto whines, he huffs and tells you he loves you, loves your pussy and your eyes and your tits and the way you cum so messy and teary. Face scrunched in pain when you dig your nails into his skin, louder and messier with every milking clench of your cunt. Nd he’s hiccuping his way through his orgasm, pleading and promising and trying to bury himself deep in your soul, curl into your chest and the cavern of your loins. Bokuto just loves and loves and loves when there’s no space between the two of you, hearts beating as one and breaths mingling between your open mouths .
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intromortal · 6 days
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l.hs x f!reader
cw: hee is a menace, making out, grinding, not proofread sorey
a/n: this was an ask but i'm a dumbass and deleted the entire post
you were hanging out at heeseung's place like usual, lazily scrolling through your phone while he took a quick shower. this was routine for you.
except he usually came out changed in a fresh set of clothes and hair barely damp. definitely not with red strands completely wet, dripping on his very naked shoulders and torso and with a white towel loosely wrapped around his hips, hanging so low you could start to see the shape of a v form.
you didn't mean to ogle, truly. but the way rivulets of water ran close to his brown perked nipples and on his chiseled abs, following the defined lines they created, had you simply salivating.
you cast away your gaze shamefully once you realized what you were doing, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.
you cleared your throat with difficulty as he kept moving around his room, opening drawers in search of something to change in with all the ease in the world, like he had to rush to cover himself whatsoever.
“uhm… can i maybe ask why you’re literally naked right now,” you interrogate, a hint of irritation in your tone. not that you mind the view obviously, you think it’s gonna come quite in handy during lonely nights where you need to get yourself off actually. but it’s also not gonna help your blossoming feelings for the man in front of you.
“i just forgot to bring clothes with me when i went in,” he deadpans, shrugging his shoulders while his eyebrow lifts playfully at you.
“you could’ve just asked me to hand you some, you know.” you’re doing anything in your power to avoid his gaze. or better yet, the sight of his glistening skin. “i’m sure i could’ve found everything for you in no time.”
definitely faster than how long he's taking right now.
“oh, so you just wanted to rummage through my drawers then,” he says, finally grabbing a pair of underwear and sweats. “nasty girl.”
you gasp at his accusation, hand slapping over your mouth. “i literally never said that,” you whine, dropping your phone on the bed and sitting straight with your hands covering your face, nails about to start digging in your eyebrows at just how humiliating this feels.
“okay, then i have to assume you don’t like the view.”
you make the mistake of snapping up your head towards him to deny this accusation too, coming face to face with his back.
and well, entire naked butt as he’s putting his boxers on.
you shriek out, dropping your entire body back on on the bed while he’s struggling to breathe from how much he’s laughing.
you feel the mattress dip as he puts one knee on the bed, his hands coming down to grab your legs and manhandle you underneath him.
you let your eyes wander down to his broad chest again, muscles tightening under the shakes of his full fledged laughs. they slowly but surely start to die down, his shoulders no longer shaking. he quirks his head to the side as he stares at your reddened face. you're avoiding eye contacts at all cost, focused on his midriff.
“you like them that much?” he teases, a toothy smirk on his face.
“oh my god lee heeseung, please put some clothes on,” you beg, finally meeting his eyes, surprised to find his pupils blown out beyond what you’ve ever seen them be.
he keeps staring at you, enamored with the way your eyes flicker down to his lips every so often, rosy tongue peeking out to wet your own pouty ones.
he cradles your cheek in his palm, searching for any hint of actual discomfort in your gaze, the other arm keeping him hovering over you.
“can i kiss you?” he asks suddenly.
you feel like time stops for a few moments. your breath stuck in your throat and you think you can’t form any comprehensible sounds to save your life, but prove yourself wrong when you let out neediest please you can muster up, speaking before you can ever register the word leaving your mouth.
his soft lips crash on yours in an instant, desperate right off the bat as he sneaks a hand up your shirt to caress the overhead skin of your waist.
he pinches you lightly and the pain makes you yelp, leaving enough room for his tongue to sneak in your mouth, sensually lapping at your own.
despite the initial rush, he’s slower now, taking his time savoring your sweet taste.
he thinks he might be addicted already.
he takes note of the way your thighs have been pressing against each other under him, and he roughly grabs a fistful of your thigh to push your legs apart. you gasp and take a moment to regain your breath, chest heaving up and down.
once he has made enough room for himself between your thighs, he lowers himself and grinds his throbbing clothed cock against your core, pretty panties on display since the skirt you wore rode up from all the movement. you throw your head back at the contact, a strangled moan leaving your parted raw lips.
he keeps grinding against you as he attacks your neck, messy trail of spit following in his wake. starting from your clavicle and arriving behind your ear.
“please, hee, fuck.” you slide one of your hands in his hair, pulling a few strands and eliciting from him the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard in your life when he sucks on your lobe.
“please what,” he pants against your ear, voice raspy and lower than usual. “please put your clothes on?” he mocks you, slowly moving to stand up.
“no no, hee please touch me,” you beg pathetically, grabbing his hand to stop him from standing up.
a second passes before he pushes your body forward on the bed, lowering himself so his face is close to where you need him most.
“touch you where?” he lets his head rest on one of your thighs, gaze flicking up to you to hold eye contact while he speaks. “tell me what’s in that pretty little head of yours and i promise i will make it all come true.”
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starrystevie · 10 months
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steve who got a lower back tattoo on a drunken dare in his late 20s and forgets it's there most of the time. steve who stretches one night at a party and his shirt rides up exposing the swirling lines that peek out from under his belt line. steve who doesn't think anything of it and forgets to pull his shirt back down as he leans forward on the couch while talking with the group, basking in the welcomed burn of a certain pair of eyes locked on him.
eddie who's sitting next to him, gripping the back of the couch cushion where his arm is slung around his long term crush like it's the only tether he has to planet earth because not only does steve have a tattoo, but it's right there. eddie who takes in a shuddering breath and can't pull his gaze away from the ink that spreads low over tanned skin that he longs to explore. eddie who digs his other hand into his knee to keep it from doing anything stupid like running his fingers over the tattoo or pulling steve up to go to the spare bedroom.
steve who shoots frozen-in-place eddie a knowing smirk after a few seconds as he leans over even further before standing up and holding out his hand in invitation anyway. eddie who finds out later in the night that he doesn't have to wonder what the tattoo feels like under his fingers for much longer.
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mutualcombat · 6 days
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and hell yeah, im a dick, girl. addicted to you
nsft under cut, also on twitter
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retro-rezz-the-est · 10 months
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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)
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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…
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Tag List:
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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 😘✌🏾
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dumplingsjinson · 7 months
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Character A separates from Character B to take a breather from the kiss, only to laugh in surprise when Character B starts pulling them on top of them.
"What are you doing?" they question, straddling Character B; feels Character B pressing against them. They blink, swallowing heavily; it doesn't take much for them to understand what that means, as they cautiously grind their hips down against Character B's, testing the waters.
Character B's hands sneak up their torso, hands cupping their clothed breasts, massaging them gently as Character A lets out soft little sighs and breathy moans, hips quickening with speed; ducking down to bury their face on Character B's neck every now and again out of embarrassment and to muffle the noises they were making.
"Wait, wait, wait," Character B breathes out, holding onto Character A's hips to stop them from moving. Character A sits up, looking down at them, heart skipping a beat at the way Character B stares up at them with hooded eyes. "We shouldn't be too loud, yeah? How about we go somewhere else?"
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a2zillustration · 4 months
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I've been waiting for an excuse to tell you why Croissant is called Croissant for SO LONG
| First | | Previous | | Next |
[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]
[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]
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becca-e-barnes · 4 months
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thinking about mating press with beefy!bucky. all that weight on top of you, knowing for certain he’s about to breed you?? ughhh
Oh God yes, the thought of this makes me fucking purr 🤤
Just the thought of his thick, slightly curved cock sliding as deep inside as you can take. The feeling of his tip rubbing against your cervix before he withdraws, pulling almost entirely out of you before he glides back in again.
"Good girl, 'm so proud of you. Cum nice and hard for me, I've got you. You're safe." He holds you so close, letting you sob your pleasure against his neck while he works you through another orgasm. It's tender and romantic and loving and you're beyond aware that this man makes you insanely wet.
Your thighs are still trembling as you come down from your high. Each thrust now feels like it's almost too much but with the way Bucky's groaning, he might not be able to keep it up for much longer.
"Fuck, you feel like Heaven. This pretty little pussy was made for me. Made to be mine." His thrusts are punishing but it's an addictive feeling. "I'm going to fill you. I'm not going to pull out. Going to give you a baby."
You're almost surprised how badly you want that but it's very hard to find the words to tell him; not when his thrusts are beginning to stutter and his high seems to get closer and closer.
"I'm going to fuck a baby into you." His hand holds your chin, making sure he can see your eyes. The evidence of pleasure written all over his face might've been enough to convince you that you could handle another orgasm but you'll still not quite sure that's a good idea.
Within a few more seconds, his cock is throbbing inside you, shooting stripes of hot, thick cum right against your cervix. He looks entirely content with his decision, pressing as deep as he can so you can feel him pulse and twitch.
There's not much you need to say to each other for a few seconds. Instead, it's nice to just listen to you both trying to catch your breath while your partner floods your waiting, fluttering sex with his cum.
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bleach-your-panties · 4 months
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sexy prompts for inumaki! all characters aged 18+
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"T-Toge...we shouldn't do this here...they could easily see us, even from down there!"
The white-haired male only breathed a warm sigh into the crook of your neck as he helped you balance your leg up on the windowsill.
While Maki, Yuta, and Panda trained in the courtyard down below, Toge was sliding his long cock between your creamy, wet folds.
Your left hand haphazardly gripped onto the material of his pants while your right arm laid wrapped around his neck.
His nose bumped against your cheek, his silent way of asking you if you wanted him to continue.
"Yes, but, please Toge, we need to be careful. Okay?"
Those last words were lost on his ears as he shifted and gripped you underneath your armpits.
He expertly aimed his cock up at your hole and allowed you to sink yourself onto it just as you'd done so many times before.
Your face swarmed with heat as Toge bounced you on him hurriedly - there was no telling who might come around the corner or down the hallway and see the two of you in this position, but that was the entire thrill of public sex, wasn't it?
Not to mention your friends who might idly decide to glance upwards and get an eyeful of Toge pounding you in front of the open window.
But Toge, the ever-observant boyfriend noticed your apprehension about being caught, so what did he do?
He folded you at the waist, never slipping out of you as he continued his relentless thrusts.
"T-Toge! Slow down!" Your hands gripped his legs now while your head hung upside down, giving you a perfect view of his balls slamming against your ass.
"Huh, did you guys hear something? It sounded like it came from the second floor." Panda pointed a clawed finger up towards the window, where Inumaki gave him a close-eyed smile and a thumbs up.
"Oh, never mind, it's just Inumaki."
Maki pushed the furry away and adjusted her glasses to gaze up at the window as well.
"Inumaki?! What are you doing up there? Your ass should be down here training with the rest of us! And where's Y/N?!"
She impatiently stalked off with her staff thrown over her shoulder, mumbling something about slackers. Yuta brushed a hand through his dark hair sighed, and followed after the green-haired woman with Panda in tow.
"I'm gonna cum, Toge..I...my head...getting dizzy..."
Next, you were pulled up and your back slammed up against the wall beside the window. Your shaky legs came up to wrap around your boyfriend's waist.
Toge continued to bounce you on him in this new position, relishing in the sound of your moans and the way your chest bounced in rhythm with his thrusts.
Your nails dug into his shoulders while your head lolled to one side. He wanted to laugh at you, but instead let out a loud grunt. His hips stuttered and he carefully lowered both of your bodies to the floor, dick pulsing and shooting his cum up against your walls that gripped him for dear life.
"Toge...you're a monster..." You huffed at him once you came down from your orgasm and he did laugh this time while holding up the "I love you" hand signal.
"I love you, too, you bitch."
----
sexy prompt list:
#21 - Fucking with the window wide open
💗💗🍡°tagging: @darkstarlight82 @eternalalmondd
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hyunip · 5 months
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Speaking of Ony loving big girls…
Just think about how feral this man would be eating you out.
I’m talking growlin’, spittin’, slapping yo pussy.
“Oh, fuck! Onyyy!” You shouted into your arm as you rode against his face, your hand palming his head, occasionally pulling him in to grind harder against his tongue. It felt so good he had you trembling—hence it being your fourth orgasm this morning.
This man will eat it in the morning, in the afternoon, at night—anytime he feels he wants it, he gon eat it. And good too.
At one point he wants you to sit in his face and drown him in your juices. You have no chance to get an answer, until he’s flipping you over and placing you down on your new chair.
His tongue dug deep inside of you while one of his big hands squeezed the fatty flesh of your ass roughly, kneeding it in his thick hands as he was basically drowning himself in your fluids.
Maaannnn
SOMEONE WRITE THIS OUT RN
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crawley-fell · 6 months
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As much as I want them to bone I do get overwhelmed by how Crowley and Aziraphale just love each other's essence rather than simply being attracted to each other physically. They were so chill about swapping bodies, they weren't awkward or weird about it. Their corporations aren't what make them who they are it's their souls
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