#I was beaten by him but in the end i WON | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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)

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

This…This can not be happening.

How is this even possible? What’s going to happen now?

These thoughts and more rush through your mind as you stand board stiff in the back, your eyes seeming to be permanently glued to the large monitor in front of you while gasps and cheers from the remainder of the locker room fill your ears alongside the blaring bass of The Usos’ theme.

Roman told you to stay in the back for a reason, to only come out after he’d won and embarrassed the hell out of his cousins for ever turning their backs on him, so he could make examples out of them as a reason to never and not turn your back on the Tribal Chief.

He wanted them to remember this night, to remember the ache in their bones, the wear and tear of their joints as he slammed them against the mat over and over again, the blood and sweat staining their skin as he and Solo dug into the twins with everything they had left within them.

They would learn their lesson tonight, and they would learn it well: you do not mess with the Tribal Chief because if you do, you will feel a pain that you have never known before.

He was going to show everyone why he and he alone was the head of the table, why he was unstoppable, and why only those who followed him and his lead would prosper in the end.

But, none of that actually mattered in the end, not as you stand staring at the monitor, hands covering your mouth in shock.

They…They did it.

They actually managed to do it.

Jey pinned Roman, pinned him for the first time in over three fucking years.

Blow after blow to the foundation of The Bloodline, week after week from the cracks being exposed to Sami’s turn at the Royal Rumble that set everything in motion to the goddamn explosion that occurred during Roman and Solo’s Night of Champions match.

After all this time, The Usos finally got one over on the Tribal Chief, they won the Bloodline civil war.

They beat the Tribal Chief, destroyed his so-called “Island of Relevancy”, showed the world that he is still just a man and can be beaten just like the rest of them. Roman Reigns is not as invincible as he claims to be!...

….but Roman?

Roman is pissed.

You can see it all processing in his eyes in real time, all of the noise around you fading into the background along with the roaring cheers from the London crowd: his loss, being pinned, the fact that despite being a champion he has lost his stance, his placement at the head of the table.

Because what use is there of an Island of Relevancy if you’re the only one standing on it?

Your hands drop from your mouth and fall to your sides; how the hell…? What the hell is happening? Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as those around you celebrate his demise, hands clapping shoulders and drinks beginning to be passed around as the show draws to a close.

You can practically see the floor falling out beneath Roman’s feet as he slides out of the ring, dejected and defeated with a raging inferno blazing bright and hot behind those fierce eyes of his; his entire world, perfectly constructed with seemingly no flaws whatsoever, has shattered in front of his very eyes.

Rage twisted and contorted Roman’s facial features into something unrecognizable as he sat on the floor ringside, kicking his feet and screaming his anger out into the universe like a temperamental child. Baring his teeth, hissing and gnashing his jaw like an uncaged animal…

Frankly, it scared the shit out of you to see live.

He’s shaking, actually shaking with all of the hate and virtiol that courses through his very veins. The bright lights of the arena, hot and beaming down on his skin? The way his hair sticks to the sides of his face and the heavy furrow in his brow? The way his entire body aches from the brutal punishment of the match?

None of that matters now. None of it will ever matter now.

His anger, his regret, his disappointment with himself as he comes to terms with the true loss of yet another faction of his, people who he loved and cared for turning their backs on him again…his mind was a maelstrom as he gripped his face and pulled at his temple, and not even the pain from that could distract him from the truth in front of his very eyes.

His own family, his own blood, has betrayed him, the image of Jimmy and Jey standing above him displaying on every and all of the large screens inside the arena. His heart pounds in his chest and hs blood boils; they can’t just get away with this. They will pay for their crimes against him, against their family, against their Bloodline!

The blood, the sweat, the tears and the pain he had poured into their family, all the work that he had put in to make sure that they all ate, that they all got opportunity after opportunity after opportunity….all for nothing.

You watch as Solo picks himself up from the floor and stumbles his way over to Roman, Paul’s face a complete mess and whirlwind of emotions as he rushes over with Roman’s smorgasbord of titles cradled like infants within his arms. You can barely hear what the latter is saying to the Tribal Chief over the cheers of The Usos’ celebrating and their theme blaring through the speakers, but it’s most likely some sort of consolation and a promise of revenge due to the bright red of the shorter man’s face.

Even after all of this, after everything that these men have just gone through, Jimmy still attempts to reach out to comfort Roman as he sits ringside on the floor, you watching as Jey pulls him back to his own side; Roman is a lost cause to them now. In their eyes, they’ve destroyed his corrupted faction, they’ve cut off the hydra’s heads, and now?

Now, they’re done with him, with all things Bloodline-related as the descend back into being “the ones”.

They are the new Tribal Chiefs around these parts, not Roman.

Not anymore.

After what feels like an eternity of the fallen party sitting in stasis outside of the ring, they all stand, Roman wrapping an arm around his midsection and another hand around his shoulder as they all walk backwards back up the long runway.

His eyes stay locked onto his cousins as the camera pans from him to them and back again, Solo’s eyes filled with an incoming storm and Paul’s lips seeming to move at a mile a minute with how quickly he seems to throw insults the way of The Usos.

But the two in the ring just smile.

They smile and embrace each other after a hard won victory as the entire WWE Universe embraces them as well, and all that does is piss Roman off even more.

Your body somehow finds the will to move, your feet ungluing themselves from the floor beheath them before you begin to move your way through the small crowd of those watching from the back.

You tear your eyes away from the monitor you were watching and beeline it straight to the guerilla position where they’re set to return, and you can still hear the thunderous cheers coming from the fans as Jimmy and Jey continue to celebrate the fall of the Tribal Chief. Maneuvering your way through throngs of people, past production, past *everything*...you have to find him.

You have to find him, and fast.

It’s like your feet barely even graze the ground with how fast you walk, the light tapping of your heels echoing off the walls around you as you make your way closer and closer to Roman and…oh.

You can just barely see him over the heads and past the shoulders of the cameramen, the interviewers waving their mics in their faces, over the glinting bald heads of Pearce and Hunter that’re shining with sweat as they attempt to get a word in with Roman before they try to rush him in the direction of where the press conference is being held…but it’s as though he doesn’t see any of them, his eyes dark and filled to the brim with something nasty.

You’re not even the prime target of his glare, steel-cut and piercing all that come across it, and even you feel the brunt of it, shivering where you stand behind the cloud of people vying for his attention as he moves his way through them. For the reporters and the interviewers, their mics in shaking hands as cameras flash in his face, all of their questions die on their tongues the second his eyes sweep over them.

“Roman. Roman!” you hear Pearce call out to him, Hunter, Solo, and Heyman in tow close to his heels. “Damn it, Roman, listen to me!”

“We need to get you out there, Reigns. Just give a quick statement about the match, about The Usos, and then-”

Pearce and Hunter’s requests fall on deaf ears as you move to the side, the crowd of people following Roman’s path as he walks down one of the arena’s large halls.

“Excuse you, Hunter? Did you not just see the utter and complete farce that was the match our Tribal Chief just had?! There will be no statement to be made, and no appearance at any press conference shall be had unless it involves the absolute dismissal of what was clearly a farce of a loss!”

Paul’s demands make his face grow a bright red as he follows Roman, clutching his titles as his head seems to grow three sizes from the fury written across his face. “Jimmy and Jey, they’re cheaters! Conmen who have embarrassed your Tribal Chief in front of millions of people time and time again! We demand retribution! A rematch to set things right again! Do you know how much Roman Reigns has brought to this company? How much prestige he’s brought to these titles, to these championships?”

Paul jostles the titles in question in his arms, brows furrowed and steam practically pouring out of his ears. “This is an outrage! This is a scam! You two should be ashamed of yourselves for even allowing this to happen to a force like Roman Reigns-”

His incessant, constant stream of words and potential curses are paused by Solo’s hand slamming into his chest, Heyman’s eyes going wide as his mouth falls open before quickly closing it and stepping back to Roman’s side.

Roman pauses his stride, eyeing Hunter and Pearce so viciously that you yourself are shrinking into your own skin; he very clearly doesn’t want to be bothered right now, so why even try to ask him of anything at all?

The look he gives both men, the silent communications that occur between them seems to be more than enough for them to back off in their pursuits, stepping out of his way as their phones begin to ring constantly.

“We have to get some sort of response out of him, right? I mean, he’s the champion right now, we can’t just let him leave-”

“Let him cool off for a second, Pearce,” Hunter tells him, running a hand over his own stressed face. “He’s in no mood for any of that right about now.”

Roman continues to shove past and maneuver around those in his way, his steps as loud and threatening as his demeanor. Through and through, seconds by seconds that seem to stretch on forever until his eyes finally, finally gloss over your figure leaning on a nearby wall, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your mind begins to turn.

And the very second that his gaze locks onto yours, time slows to a screeching halt.

There’s something in there that you rarely saw in him before, but that you’ve been seeing a lot more of recently.

That anger, that frustration, all of that adrenaline mixed all that hate and vitriol coursing through his veins…he needed to get all of it out, every last drop before he makes another misstep.

He needs you.

Shouldering his way past various sports reporters and camera people, he quickly makes his way across the hallway to you, his large figure towering over you as you begin to shrink further and further against the wall. He’s panting, partly from the resulting emotions following his match and partly from how rough the match in question ran his body.

His hand finds your wrist, gripping it tightly and without a single word from him, he pulls you from the wall and begins to walk away again, Solo and Heyman striding behind him while the media frenzy behind you all follows along.

“Roman, wait-”

He turns his head to the side and makes eye contact with you again, the look in his eyes telling you everything you need to know.

Not now.

All the words you were going to say fall right back down your throat and you gulp, the intensity in his eyes making your knees weak as you try your best to keep up with his pace. It doesn’t take long for your group to head back to his larger-than-anyone-else’s locker room, Solo being the last one inside as he shuts everyone else out besides himself, Heyman, you and Roman.

Paul quickly sets the championship belts aside on a nearby table while Roman runs a hand through his hair, running a hand over his face before taking a seat on one of the benches.

It’s quiet in here, all too quiet albeit for the clamoring noise outside…and this silence does not make you feel hopeful at all.

You all just…sit in that silence for a few minutes, stewing in it as the reality of what had just occurred mere moments ago finally sinks in for all parties involved.

“Wise man…”

All eyes fall to Roman as he stands to his full height, the sound of his voice booming like a lightning strike. This is the first time he’s spoken anything since initially leaving that ring. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?” Paul asks, somewhat shaken still.

“Leave us.”

That seems to garner a reaction from Heyman, the shorter man wringing his hands in front of him before clasping them together. “But…But, my Tribal Chief, we need to deliberate, come up with a plan for this Friday night on Smackdown! We need to strategize, to concoct a plan for how we’re going to deal with those nuisances that are The Usos…we cannot just-”

“I said, leave us. Or do I have to ask you again, Paul?”

His words send a stream of ice down Heyman’s spine, causing the man to stand upright as Roman turns to face him. His aura, what he radiates from within…you do not want to find yourself on the other end of that; it feels like a wall slamming into you at mach 10, wrapping its edges around you until you’re damn near suffocating in it.

“I…I understand, my Tribal Chief. I will leave you two to yourselves.” Paul bows out when he says this, his eyes flickering to the ground and away from Roman’s face before standing and quickly waddling back towards the locker room door, opening it to a barrage of sports media and cameras all vying for the chance to ask Roman even one question.

“The Tribal Chief will not be taking anymore of your unimportant questions at this time as he begins to take his rest after his extraordinary showing in tonight’s match. All questions, comments, and concerns shall only go through the Tribal Chief’s wise man - that being myself - and I shall relay them back to the Tribal Chief in due time. Thank you, and good evening to you all.”

Heyman’s words just spark another wave of noise from the now growing crowd of individuals at Roman’s door while Roman looks on at Solo who stands in the corner by the door, looking on at the onslaught with a scowl permanently tattooed onto his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

Roman nods at Solo, jutting his chin towards the door in a silent request for him to leave and luckily, the other man follows his order without another word, though you doubt he would have spoken otherwise. He throws a look in your direction, but not one of malice; this one has more…hurt lingering within it, a nature of distraught that you’ve never seen within him before he takes his leave after Heyman and slams the locker room door behind him…

…which leaves you alone, finally alone, with the unhinged beast that is Roman Reigns.

Being in a space with Roman Reigns, you can feel how much of himself fills it: his aura, his stance, his voice, his demeanor…no matter how big or small a room, you can damn well tell that Roman’s in there. You could practically sense it in the air when he arrives, hairs rising on your firearms as all around you grow silent. However, as long as you are not his prime target, you will most likely walk out of that room unscathed - emphasis on most likely.

But being alone in a space with Roman Reigns?

All of those feelings? All of those senses get hiked up to an eleven, the very room that the person is in feeling as though it’s shrinking around them as it seemingly pushes them closer and closer together.

And you, right now, are that poor soul in question.

Your hands grip the hem of the shirt you’re wearing - his shirt, the one that he gave to you and told you to wear once you were supposed to come out after the match was over…after he was supposed to win - nervously, your eyes falling to the floor and sticking to the shoes that you wear.

You see Roman’s feet walking towards you before they pause, then moving in the opposite direction as they head towards the locker room door as well…only this time, your heart rate rockets straight to the moon once you hear the sharp clicking of the door’s lock turning, that noise bouncing off the walls of your mind like an echoing cavern.

The silence in the room is unbearable with a tension so thick, you can cut right through it with Roman’s steely gaze. It’s all too warm, too stuffy, too suffocating while you stand there, your teeth making a home in your bottom lip as you shift from foot to foot.

What do you say to him? What do you say at all? Do you commend him on a match well performed? Do you take Heyman’s route and curse Jimmy and Jey’s names until the breath runs clean from your lungs and you’re all hot in the face as well? Do you take Solo’s approach to things and just say…nothing? Nothing at all?

What can you possibly do to even try to rectify things for him? Make things any better than they are at this moment in time?

All of these questions and more surround your brain and hold it hostage, unable to think of anything else. Is there anything that you can do to make him feel better? You’re supposed to be his, his girl…but with something as monumentally damaging to him as tonight was, so is there anything that you can do?

You don’t even notice him making his way towards you until he’s almost directly in front of you, watching your every movement like an unbound predator stalking its oblivious prey. The room around you grows way too hot way too fast as he continues to move your way, his footsteps soft yet booming as loudly in your ears as your own heartbeat.

As he takes one step forward towards you, you take an equal one back. One step forward, one step back.

One forward, one back, and this little game of yours goes on and on and on until you’re cornered up against the furthest wall, Roman’s hands pressing against the wall at the sides of your face. His chest nearly touches yours in the process and its rise and fall nearly matches the way your own does but you hold your breath and pray to the gods.

For what, you wonder?

For solace? For comfort? For a way out from his grasp, or a way to sink further beneath it? Space to breathe or to suffocate in all that is Roman Reigns? Entirely everything from him and absolutely nothing of him all at once? You don’t even know for sure but unfortunately, those prayers are left unheard and unanswered.

You hear him call your name, the syllables he speaks wrapped in a depth that twists and turns your very core. He doesn’t have to say much to grab your attention, after all.

“Look at me.”

But, can you? Can you really?

You can’t even bring yourself to do that, lest you wish to crumble beneath his unwavering gaze.

However, Roman is not one to take no for an answer; he never really has, especially nowadays. So when he speaks to you again, the very atmosphere of the locker room seems to shift and change under his words, underneath the dominance that is just solely and utterly him.

“I said, look at me.”

His fingers are suddenly underneath your chin, thumb and forefinger gripping it with just enough force to pull a strained noise from the back of your throat as he forcefully tilts your chin up so that you have to look up at him.

The soft gasp that you let out when you finally look up at him, into those dangerous eyes of his…you can see what it does to him by the roll of his shoulders as he stands to his full height, towering above you so much so that the too-bright lights that illuminate the locker room get blocked out.

You didn’t really get the chance to truly look at him through the monitor you were watching the match from and not even as he stampeded his way through the throngs of people all vying for his attention…but now?

Right here, in this moment, any and all words you could have possibly said to him evaporate on your tongue as your feet remain glued to the floor, your pulse thrumming through your entire body.

The wide panes of his chest stretch with each and every deep breath that he takes, his heart beating so damn loud that it fills the room and suffocates all other noise besides it. You feel the leather of his glove brushing against your chin where it wraps around his fingers, the force behind his grip being just strong enough to let you know not to mess with him.

Roman’s entire form from the waist up glistens with sweat and you can already see the soon-to-be bruises on his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his abdomen already begin to show.

His eyes are dark, darker than they have ever been before as he towers above you, slightly panting while his aura threatens to swallow you whole. There’s an obvious anger lingering within them, the deep-set betrayal and agony over losing his family and his undefeated streak finally sinking in along with the newfound uncertainty of the future to come…but there’s something else there in those eyes of him, something that makes sweat bead out along your brow and has your thighs clenching together as you dig your teeth into your lip so hair that it nearly bleeds.

Something more.

Roman sees this, what he does to you, and has to resist the urge to crack a smirk; you’re so easy to toy with. He can barely say a word to you, can just look at you only to have you a trembling, whimpering mess before him.

It’s reasons like these that drives his need for you so through the roof, and tonight means no different to him at all.

Just as he thought, you let out a whimper when you meet his eyes, your body threatening to go limp in his hold. His presence is just so much and it does so much more to you than you’re ever willing to say, but you absolutely love it either way.

You don’t notice him beginning to lean in closer to your own face, too stunned to even think of moving before he’s all that you can possibly see, his hair almost framing your own face as he tilts his head slightly to the side.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as it fans out over your face, spicy and hot and smelling of the cinnamon gum you saw him chewing earlier in the day. He tilts your face in the opposite direction, sighing as his eyes leave yours before he leans forward to press his face against the crook of your neck, burying his nose against the skin while the hand that remains on the wall curls into a fist.

Another gasp leaves your throat when he steps forward again, your hands unchelching themselves from where they rest at the hem of your - his - shirt as his chest presses against yours, warm and built and smothering in all the right places. When you raise your arms up from your sides to run your fingertips up his chest, over his shoulders, over his forearms, you can feel him just barely shiver beneath your touch.

His body calls out for you just as yours does him, and you can feel the buzz of all the energy still coursing through him, driving him up the wall as he leans further into your touch. And when you flatten your hands against his skin, the groan that he lets out rolls through our entire body, his chest vibrating against yours.

You feel him moving against your neck and you stretch further to the side to give him room, his lips forming into words that he wouldn’t dare say aloud with others nearby as his gloved hand moves from your chin to grip the base of your neck.

You know what this is, you know what this means; you’ve been here in this position before with him, especially much more recently with all of this newfound familial drama that’s dropped itself at the other end of his table.

With the seemingly endless amounts of adrenaline crawling beneath his skin, the cinching, tight feeling of his skin and the burning sensation that bubbles deep within his core, it’s no wonder why he’s cornered you like this, why he’s closing in on you, why he’s so bent on draping you in him.

I need you, baby, please.

Those spoken yet unspoken words he uttered into your skin make your eyes widen as a similar heat begins to spark within your own core, Roman trapping your leg between his own and pressing his cock against your thigh. It makes your skin crawl in the best ways possible, what he does to you, the anticipation mixed with everything that he just is making your mind hazy.

Your hands rise from his shoulders up the base of his neck, curving further up towards his hair before wrapping your fingers through it and gently pulling his head back up to face you, your eyes meeting his once more (how the hell did they manage to get even darker?).

Despite the fear that runs through your veins, despite your hands being in his hair and on his skin as you lead him towards you, he’s still the boss around here.

Roman still calls all the shots, no matter who or what stands before him - including you.

And even despite that as well, your body still wants him just as much as he wants yours.

It’s not even a want anymore; your body needs him, it desires him.

As for Roman, your body, your comfort calls out to him like a siren’s song, wanting him to pull you deeper and deeper into whatever’s going on within his own head until your entire body knows nothing but him, nothing but your Tribal Chief.

The fatigue that you know he feels is beginning to set into his bones, into his soul, but he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care because he needs you, more so than he ever has in the past.

The sparks are beginning to show between the two of you; there’s nothing in this world like spending a night with someone like Roman Reigns, and you’re about to experience that firsthand once again.

You see the slight raise of his brow as he scans your face, that miniscule action asking you for permission, for your go-ahead, for you to allow him to lose himself within you and to use you as he sees fit for the time being…

…and the nod that you give him right back is all that he needs to see.

It’s the only thing that he needs to see before surging forward to plant a searing kiss to your lips, the fist that’s curled against the wall, moving down to grip your waist as tightly as the hold he has on your neck, digging his fingers into the soft material of his shirt that adorns your figure.

You only get about half a second of realization before you notice that he’s on you, completely covering you with his body as he presses you up against the wall even more. Your hands move from his hair down his neck, grazing his jaw lightly before your nails begin to dig into the exposed meat of his shoulders.

He’s actively stoking the fire that’s now beginning to blaze within you, and you absolutely love it.

The leg that’s not actively trapped between his now finds itself wrapped around his waist right as Roman’s tongue slides between your lips, curling with and against your own before quickly taking over the kiss. And you let him, of course; he needs this, he needs you, and you’re willing to give him whatever’s necessary to satiate his incessant energy.

The way he knows how to pluck your body like a finely tuned instrument with the way he pulls moans and gasps from you, the drag of fabric on skin, the way his body seems to move perfectly in-sync with your own, pushing and pulling until the two of you radiate more hear than the core of the sun…there’s just something about kissing Roman that makes your toes curl and your cheeks ripe with heat just by thinking about it, let alone actually doing the deed.

It’s all fiery passion and full of the aggression he shows in the ring, the possessive nature he has over you to keep you close and a part of him always, the need to show you exactly who you belong to as he pulls you in so damn close that all you can even think to experience is just him and him alone…it’s a conglomerate mixture of beauty and pain and pleasure and you're drinking in every single drop of it.

You feel his teeth begin to sink into your bottom lip, the contact against the already red and raw flesh making you jump in his arms as he tugs on it harshly before letting go. Your eyes, hooded and blown out, meet his again, and you can practically read the words in his mind as his thumb reaches up to lightly brush over it.

You don’t get to do that, anymore. Only I can do that to you.

You watch as he thumbs over your lip again before coming back in for another kiss, your teeth nearly clashing against each other from how harsh the two of you collide. It’s messy, a battle of tongue and teeth that turns in his favor so damn fast, and you can’t resist the urge to just crumble beneath it.

Your arms loop around his neck and hold him as close to you as possible, not wanting to part from him for even a second until your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen so you’re practically forced to. But even that isn’t enough to stop the contact between the two of you, your nails digging into any piece of his exposed skin that you can possibly reach.

The smell of him fills your brain and flows through your very veins, hands holding onto you for dear life while his kiss steals all sense from your mind. Roman has always been able to do this but tonight, you lower your guards and have him take the reins (no pun intended), have him lead the way, follow his motions.

And his motions lead him to start moving backwards, pulling you away from the wall as your leg falls from his waist. Lips still furiously locked with yours, he effortlessly maneuvers the two of you away from the corner and towards a nearby bench, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you down harshly onto his lap.

You thought you could feel him before while he captured you in his stare against the wall, helpless to anything but exactly what he wanted to do with you?

Well, think again.

Your pelvis presses right up against his and the two of you let out a combined moan, your breaths mixing together before he shifts you over his thighs to press you against him even more. You start rocking yourself back and forth on his cock through the dark cargo pants that he wears, feeling it throb and jump with every pass. And your desire for his grows as well, the space between your thighs growing more damp by the second with your juices beginning to now stain your inner thighs.

The small shorts that you wear underneath Roman’s large shirt soon grow more uncomfortable than you’re willing to bear and Roman seemingly notices this as well, running his thumbs over the skin above your ass before not so gently pulling them down your legs. The second you feel the hit your ankles you kick them to the floor below, not giving a damn where they land as your lips remain slotted with his own.

Your hands run down the planes of his chest and circle your fingertip over the space above Roman’s heart, feeling the thrum of energy coursing through his being. His own hands run over your thighs, over the curve of your ass and up your spine as you shift even closer to him, the feeling of your soaked panties as they rub against the bulge in his pants making you pant against his mouth.

You feel his hands drift under the hem of your shirt, the mix of his skin and the leather of the glove he still wears making sparks fly. His lips move from your own down your jaw, the force behind the action making you gasp. Across your skin and over the curve of your ear, down the expanse of your neck and over your collarbone; there’s nowhere that’s left untouched by his eager mouth while his hands roam the heated skin beneath your top.

His teeth graze your skin lightly, causing your entire body to tremble with anticipation right before you feel the sharp stinging of his teeth digging into your flesh, a moan much louder than you should have let out escaping you. Roman’s tongue joins the fray as well, soothing the sting of his bite with each one that he gives you.

One by one, one after another he lays claim to your skin, a reminder to the entire world that despite everything, that despite everyone in his life…he still has you.

He still has you and you’ve let him have you.

The need to feel him, to feel his body even more so consumes your entire mind, your soul, your being, so you take the initiative and grip the hem of your shirt and raise it up your body, pulling it over your head and tossing that to the floor alongside your discarded shorts.

The bra that covers your chest is a lacy one, the same shade of bright red that adorns the glove on his right hand that matches right along with the panties that just barely cover your ass. ‘Figured that you might need a distraction in hindsight. I hope you like it…”

Your voice is small in volume but loud in its tone as you speak, quickly glancing down at his chest where your nails dig into the meat of his pectorals as he raises his head from the crook of your neck, your skin alight and buzzing from him marking it.

Oh, he likes it, alright. He fucking loves it.

Roman’s hands reach up to trace the details in the fabric, his thumb brushing over your nipple and making you arch into his touch. His brows slightly raise with intrigue; this was probably a surprise for him later, for when he won his match…well, not anymore.

Now, the sight of you in this number, one that you had put on just for him, mixed with the need lacing your voice and the lust swimming within your vision…it’s all so much, damn near too much for him to bear, his cock now actively throbbing and throbbing in the confines of his pants.

He needs you now.

“On your knees.”

His low tone shakes you right out of your lust-fueled haze, your eyes snapping open as you pant on his lap.The darkness swirling around within his eyes shows he means business and what Roman wants, Roman gets in spades.

You try your best to move from him, to escape the warmth and desire he’s so graciously provided for you in his own time of need but your methods of moving prove too slow for his tastes, Roman’s non-gloved hand reaching up to yank your head back by your roots, you yelping at the sudden pain.

“What is with you all not fucking listening to me today? I said, I want you on your goddamn knees, now.”

You try your best to nod with his hand in your hair, swallowing down the pathetic noise that threatens to break free before scrambling off his lap and sinking to your knees on the locker room floor, never once breaking eye contact with him as you begin to watch him tear his glove off. The sharp ripping of the velcro cuts through the thick fog that’s filled the air , leather being pulled between his teeth until finally, the damned thing is off and is tossed aside as well, his hand returning to the back of your neck.

Spreading his legs for you as slowly as he possibly can, he keeps your head solely directed at the intimidating bulge that lies within his pants, watching as your eyes flicker back and forth between his own eyes and what lies ahead for your future.

Roman’s nothing if not a beast, both in and out of the ring, and you can’t help but shudder when you gently plant your palms on the outsides of his thighs, looking up at him with the widest eyes you can possibly muster up.

You lick your lips nervously, your heart beating even faster in your chest as he literally talks down to you, your hands beginning to nervously run up his covered thighs as they make their way to his zipper.

And with each notch of its teeth that come undone, with every second that passes that turns into a minute and then to an hour, you manage to push past the nerves that run wild through your veins and undo his pants, slipping your fingers beneath the dark boxer briefs he has on and tugging them down along with his pants to reveal the true monster that lies before you.

Roman’s cock falls from its confines with a dull thud as the head connects with his stomach, leaving a clear splotch of pre-cum where it lands.

The shape of his cock, thick as a tree trunk and just as heavy and absolutely perfect as it is…the space between your thighs aches with the countless memories you have of him fucking you senseless with it,pounding into you and making you see stars over and over again-

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do here, princess. Or, are you too much of a dumb whore to even think for yourself now?”

You blink once, twice, three times as heat rises to your face, wiping the spit that threatens to fall from the corner of your mouth before you move forward, dragging your nails along the smooth skin of his upper thigh.

And as much as he loves to mark you and lay his claim to you, you love doing the exact same thing to him as well.

You live for the hiss he lets out from the pain of your nails, your teeth on his skin and grazing his pelvis as you move closer to his cock.

Such a man, such a being before your very eyes, and he’s all yours tonight, just as you are all his.

You let your nails and the tips of your fingers drag up the sides of his shaft, the length almost as long as your entire forearm. It’s a beautiful thing to see first hand as you admire him, your touches light and fleeting as your wide eyes continue to pierce his. You watch his abdomen clench and ripple when you catch his more sensitive spots, his hips bucking when you run your hand over the large vein that runs up the side.

A smile begins to grow along your lips as you watch him, his other hand running over his face and jaw. You can’t help but to admire him like this, slowly but surely as though you have all the time in the world to do so.

But, based on the absolute storm lingering within Roman’s eyes, you can tell that he’s in no teasing mood, the hand at the back of your neck squeezing threateningly before you finally get the hint to keep fucking going.

So, you do, tightening your grip around the base of his cock and stretching your lips around the head, letting the warmth of your breath wash over it before slowly beginning to sink your mouth down on him.

And, oh, what a sight he becomes before you.

“Fuck, that’s it…” he moans, watching through hooded eyes as you manage to slide the first few inches down your throat. With your smaller hands, you can barely wrap one of them around him fully - let alone two - but you try your best anyway, making sure to jerk the parts you can’t quite reach yet.

The ache between your legs becomes too much to bear as you begin to bob your head up and down, lustily taking him in while your eyes begin to close. With skin sensitive and hot to the touch, you take one hand off of him and begin to run it down your body. Over the curves of your breasts and as they threaten to spill from your bra, down the line of your abdomen, over your pubic bone and thumbing the lining of your panties, you let out another moan when you start to grind your clit against your fingers.

You don’t think that Roman notices it, the shift in your demeanor and the way your shoulders tighten up when you slip your fingers beneath your panties, the way your breath catches and your hips jump as you tease yourself…but he does.

He always does.

“Aww, are you that desperate, baby? You couldn’t help but touch that needy little pussy of yours? I can hear it all the way up here, you’re so wet for me.”

You can practically hear his smirk while he talks, but it still makes you hot all over. Spreading your wetness over your lower lips, you spread them and rub the pad of your finger over your bare clit, your body jolting at the pleasure it spikes through you.

“You want to touch yourself, fuck yourself with those tiny fingers of yours?” he asks, seething at the feeling of your teeth grazing the vein along his shaft. “Then, go ahead. Get yourself nice and ready for me…”

“..and don’t forget about me either, sweetheart,” Roman chides, briefly pulling you from the head with a soft pop before thumbing your lower lip. “Don’t make your Tribal Chief play second best to your needy fucking cunt.”

Your thighs clench and close in around your hand, a soft “yes” falling from your open lips before he presses your face right back against his cock as you begin to take more than you did before. You try to make your mouth as slick with your own saliva as possible, stroking his shaft in tandem with the swirling of your tongue around the head.

His hand lightly connects with your cheek. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, my-”

“And don’t speak with your mouth full, baby. You’re better than that.”

He glares at you as you rise from his cock again, panting softly. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he tells you, patting your cheek condescendingly. “Now, get back to work.”

The copious amounts of spit from your mouth mix with his pre-cum as your hand glides along the warm skin, the sound just as loud and slick as the ones coming from between your legs. It doesn’t take long for him to take back control, roughly guiding your lips back to his cock before letting you do what you do best.

As your throat grows accustomed to his girth, you shift yourself on your knees and slip a finger between your folds, circling your hole with it and gingerly slide it in, choking around Roman’s length in the process.

A bright flush begins to run wild under his skin as he tilts his head back, the soft sounds of his huffs and groans making the space between your thighs almost uncomfortably wet as you continue to touch yourself. His other hand runs through his hair, pulling at the roots while his face scrunches up in pleasure when you twist your fist around the head just right.

It fills you with a feeling that you can’t describe, seeing what you do to him in moments like these.

“Shit, princess, keep going…” Roman’s near breathless now, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his hips buck into your eager mouth. Eyes hooded, his attention stays on you while your own remain closed, focusing all of your energy on making sure your Tribal Chief is as primed and ready to go as you are.

You ease another finger in between your folds along with the first one and curl them as they drag along your inner walls; it’s not enough, it’s never enough when it’s just you because your fingers aren't his, your touch isn’t the same as his. Roman’s fingers fill you twice as much as your own do, the phantom feeling of them stretching you to the brim as they graze along that one spot wracking your body with shivers.

The room is brimming with the wet sounds of your motions, your juices dripping down the hand that remains at your core while your eager lips and tongue schlick up and down his throbbing cock, the noises coming from the both of you getting swamped in the mess of it.

The sight and sound of you struggling to take his length seems to light a fire under his ass and his grip at the back of your neck grows tighter, Roman starting to force the visible stretch of him taking over your mouth and throat even more so, bucking his hips against your face and making sure that you take what you’re given.

“Oh, you wanna please your Tribal Chief, baby? Well, then, take all of it.”

With that, you feel him wrench your head further down his shaft, your throat closing in around him and squeezing as you choke on him. The hand in your hair tightens the further down his shaft you go, your throat tightening with each and every inch you take, your gag reflex fighting for dear life as you struggle to take him fully.

The few inches you have left to go get wrapped in your fist, your fingers shiny with your spit and noisily stroking him until he presses down on the back of your head just that much more for you to

He needs this, he needs you, and you’re going to take everything he has to give you, just like he asked.

So you brave through it, tears in your eyes with your lungs burning and begging for air, you bare through it for Roman, and the loud moan that you get from him in response makes the fire licking within your core burn all the more brighter.

You try to speak with his cock in your mouth, your garbled attempts at calling his name making him shove you further down. “Do that again, princess. Moan for me again while you get that pussy nice and ready for me.”

And moan for him you do, hearing your blood rushing through your ears as the sensing the heavy press of his hand on your neck squeeze tighter and tighter, Roman intently watching and feeling the length of his cock stretch against the walls of your throat.

It’s not long at all before you feel the telltale signs of your own orgasm approaching: the tightness coiling within your core, the curling of your toes and the pulsing in your abdomen, the sweat beginning to bead on your brow, the way that the pace of your hand around his cock and the hand between your legs seems to uptick bit by bit as the seconds go by…

You’re not at all shocked that Roman catches whiff of this too, hearing the now sped-up sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, over and over again as you soak your panties clean through. “Don’t you dare cum, don’t you dare fucking cum. Only I can make you do that, you got that? Me, not those pathetic fucking fingers of yours.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Your voice is muffled and your throat strains while you attempt to speak as you try your best to breathe through your nose, feeling lightheaded the more you try.

But his words make you feel not and sensitive all over, the hairs on your arms raising as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, gasping when he lifts your head from the base to tightly wrap his fist around it.

“Fuck!” you hear Roman yell before his hand tightens around your hair again, yanking your mouth clean off his cock, drops of spit and his pre-cum dripping down his shaft and catching the too-bright lights of the locker room. You sit before him panting and wheezing, taking in precious breaths of air as you cough and open your now tear-filled and blurry eyes for him.

Your throat and your chest burn from the abuse they’ve taken, the back of your head and neck sore from all of his manhandling while your knees ache from the carpet on the floor of the locker room digging into your skin…but you know that he still needs you, because he’s not done with you yet.

You try to wipe your mouth clean of the mess, your makeup now completely smudged and running down your face as the mix of your saliva and his cum drips from your chin and stains the bra you wear but he doesn’t allow it, taking your chin in his hands and leaning forward off the bench to steal your precious breath away once more with a kiss so fiery that it ignites a fire within you from the inside out.

“Get on your back,” he growls, hand creeping up the sides of your neck and giving it a tight squeeze. “I need to see how ready for me you are.”

Slowly, you pull your hand from your ruined panties and tug them off your legs, kicking the damp scrap of fabric to the side where the remainder of your clothes lie just as he stands from the bench, towering over you and staring down at you menacingly. You reach around your back to unclasp your bra and shimmy it down over your arms, the nearly ruined item soon following all of the other clothes you’ve discarded until you’re finally exposed to his wandering, hungry eyes.

That’s the push that he needs to trail after you as you spread your legs for him, the sounds of him languidly stroking his cock to the sight of you teasing yourself with the wetness that stains your hand.

And what lies in front of you is just as godly, the sight of him shuffling his pants down his thighs and exposing the beautiful tanned skin that you just had your palms running over, stroking himself to the sight and sound of you pleasing yourself with flushed cheeks and the marks from your nails covering his chest and shoulders…the whine you let out cuts through the air and you can’t resist the urge to reach out to him, to call to him and bring him to you-

“You get what I give you, baby, when I want to give it to you and how I want to give it to you. Not when and how you want.”

Roman kneels to your height, his knees hitting the locker room floor with a dull thud and begins to stalk towards you, sirens wailing off inside your mind right as he crawls over your body looking every inch the beast that he claims to be.

“Roman,” you mewl, feeling him run his palms up the flushed skin of your legs. His hand latches onto your wrist and pulls it from between your thighs, holding it up to the light and watching your juices drip from your fingers before slipping them into his own mouth.

You watch as his lips close in over them, his tongue swirling around them to catch every last drop of your essence before slipping them from his mouth with a dark grin. Your aroma, now more potent than ever, fills his lungs with every single breath he takes, even more now with the taste of your arousal staining his tongue.

Every nerve and thought in his body roars at him, screams and demands for him to bend you over and fill you with his cum, to take you over and over again until everyone in this entire goddamn arena knows exactly who the hell you’re with, you’re spending your time with and who’s dealing with you.

Paul, Solo, Jimmy, Jey…they’ll all know exactly who the fuck runs things in this little circle of theirs, this fight for true and utter control.

And it will happen, you just have to wait a tad bit longer for it.

You’re so warm as you lie beneath him, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs as you wait in ample anticipation for his next move. Brushing his hair back with one hand, he slowly runs them up your body, over your plush thighs and past your dripping core that beckons him in closer.

Over your waist and up your chest until he takes your breasts in his hands and rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pulling on them and twisting them until you cry out his name. The pain makes sparks ignite in your core and Roman refuses to let up on his hold despite the noise, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting down on it as he plays with the other one.

Those hands of his, the same ones that bring you pleasure are the same ones that have brought his own family pain, and that thought is not lost on Roman as he continues to play with you, reveling in the litany of pitiful noises leaking from your trembling lips.

He will not show you the same pain that his cousins brought onto him, nor that he had brought to them.

For you, things are…different.

You’ll never leave his side at the head of the table, never abandon him for some other, higher purpose; you’ve said so yourself before tonight many a time.

Your legs wrap around his waist and lock him in as you dig your nails into the carpet you lay on, it already starting to dig into your skin. But you need more from him; more of him on you, around you, more of his touch and his mouth and his cock, just more.

With your feet, you try your best to shove his pants down further over his ass and down his legs, only managing to get so far before he stops you with a firm yet quick slap to your ass.

He doesn’t even have to remove his mouth from your breast to tell you anything, glaring up at you while his tongue laves away at your nipple before moving away from it and suctioning his mouth onto the other.

Your entire body trembles; what does he have planned next for you? What more could he possibly pull from you as he manhandles your body, squeezing and grasping at you like you’re going to somehow sink into the floor if he removes himself from you?

And then all of your questions are answered when you see him rise from your chest, his lips plush and a shade of bright red as a thin line of his saliva connects them to your breast before it snaps. You feel him press down on your waist, making you relax further against the floor until he wraps his hands around your ankles and begins to fold your legs into your chest, your knees grazing your face just so.

“Hold them,” you hear Roman say damn near under his breath, the depth in his voice making you whine as you wrap your hands under your knees to keep your legs raised. The trembling of your body increases as your anticipation grows and everything in your body tells you to close your eyes and look away from him, but you just can’t.

He’s beautiful in the way he gazes down at you, zeroing in on the way the walls of your cunt clench around nothing and shine with your arousal under the light, licking his lips like a caged animal. He might as well be one anyway with the possessive nature that consumes him when he has you, when he’s with you.

A hitch in your breath comes and goes when he moves even closer, gripping his cock firmly with one hand before using the other to spread your lower lips, the sound of him spitting on them reaching your ears before you feel it. It’s slick, it’s obscenely nasty as he swipes his cock head through the glistening mess, spreading the wetness around even more so as to get you as well as possible before you feel the hefty warmth of the head slapping against your folds.

The weights of it, and the thought of what’s to come have you arching your back into the sensation, desperate to reach your hands up to grip him and pull him into you, to have them just get it over with already and to make you see stars. And you do flex your fingers in his direction, squeezing the space beneath your knees and spreading your legs further for him to tease and prod at you while he just stares on with a smirk slowly beginning to grow along his face.

“Patience, baby, patience,“ Roman murmurs, sliding the head of his cock through your folds and nudging your button with it. The action sends a bolt of lightning jolting up your spine, causing you to dig your fingers into the flush of your lower thighs, and toss your head to the side with a small whine.

“Please, Roman, I need it. I need you, just fuck me, please –“

He shushes you, placing a finger to your lips before slipping his thumb between them. You instinctively wrap them around the digit and pull it in deeper with your tongue, swirling the muscle around it before he slowly but surely post it out. “I said to have patience, baby girl, so don’t be greedy. Just lay back, be a good girl, and take what your Tribal Chief gives you.“

He ends his sentence by dragging that wet thumb over your lips, down your chin, and rests harshly against your clit, grinding his shaft against your folds as he plays with you. You feel like your heart is about to fly out of your chest with how fast it’s beating, watching as he moves even closer to you and presses himself even harder against you.

“Nice and wet for me, princess…you did good for me back there.” You revel in the small bit of praise, a ghost of a smile floating over your lips until you feel the blunt head of his cock brushing up against your entrance. “You still ready for me?”

You can’t nod your head fast enough. “Yes, please. Roman, I’m ready for you, I’m ready-”

At the feeling of him finally stuffing you full of his cock, his chest keeping pressure on the backs of your legs and folding further into yourself, tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes at the newfound pressure.

The familiar burn of Roman pushing into you but by bit, inch by gloriously thick inch, has you itching to latch onto him in any way that you possibly can - and you eventually do, removing your hands from holding your legs to placing them on Roman’s shoulders as soon as he gets close enough.

That fire he had stoked inside of you now grows to an inferno the more of himself he bullies into you, stretching you out to fit his cock just right is making your mind hazy. The quick and constant fluttering of your walls around him makes him groan, dropping his head to your knee.

Your nerves fry and your eyes cross as he continues to move, every single wall within you absolutely crumbling because of it. And It feels like forever and a day has passed before he eventually bottoms out inside you for the first time tonight as you nearly lose your mind on his cock, your toes starting to curl and your thighs flexing.

The guttural moan that leaves Roman’s chest rocks you to your very core, the sound of the wetness between your legs and the pressing of him against your ass turning your insides to mush. One of his hands rests at your waist and keeps you close, his body leaning on your own so much that his nose just barely brushes against yours.

You whine his name, the shrill noise and the desperate look in your eyes turning all dials up to eleven. The huffs and small moans leaving your throat, your body already run ragged before he’s really gotten the chance to fuck you senseless yet…it all just makes him want to ruin you even more.

He can’t figure out where to keep his eyes; he wants to look at all of you, from the way your chest heaves and your breasts move from your breaths to the way your pulse jumps at the vein in your neck to the apex of your thighs where your arousal stains and sticks to the skin of his pelvis, there’s almost too many options for him.

But when you squeeze down his shoulders and bring his attention back to the feeble look in your eyes, he can’t help but toss his head back and sigh because look at you, with your lip quivering just as much as your cunt is and the way you gently thump your head against the carpeted floor as his hand runs over your abdomen and presses against the outline his cock made inside you.

His ears fill with the sounds of your sex, your legs seemingly permanently glued to his chest while he wraps an arm around them, keeping you right where he wants you as his hips begin to move.

And the slide of him moving back and forth along your walls, his hips pulling back from your ass and dragging the head of his cock back towards your clit before moving back in just as slowly causes your entire lower body to twitch.

“Roman…Roman, please,” you beg him. You don’t even know what you’re even begging him for anymore: for more? For him to pick up his achingly slow pace? For him to close the distance between his mouth and yours so you can taste him all over again?

But he doesn’t appeal to your cries nor does he break when you seem to grow even wetter for him as he begins to thrust in and out, back and forth, dragging your hips higher into the air and folding you even further into yourself.

He still, however, refuses to look anywhere else other than at your face, in your eyes as he rolls his hips into you, dead set on ever single noise and jerking movement your body gives him.

His brow furrows; how could he not look at you when you’re like this, mouth wide open with your tongue lolling out of your mouth, pointed in the air as it tries to lick at his lips while you fan the flames of the fire you’re sparked inside of him?

You try your best to rock your hips in tandem with his own, bucking them as best you can whenever his pelvis meets your own and he bottoms out inside you. You can feel the head of his cock grazing that sweet spot along your walls, almost kissing your cervix every single time he bears down on you. His weight strains the muscles at the back of your legs when he pulls forward every time but you don’t care, you don’t care because all that matters is him and how well he fills you.

Roman doesn’t speak a word to you, only letting out groans and grunts with the occasional low-toned moan for your ears only, but everything that you hear makes your entire body vibrate with a deeper need.

Eventually, his pace does begin to increase, the erotic melody of his hips tap, tap, tapping against yours growing into him beginning to use his true power to make you cry out. And cry out you do, your brain now clouded with innsense waves of pleasure as your screams for more grow in volume.

You don’t even attempt to lower your volume and neither does he, not caring about whoever may be listening in from outside the no-that-far-away locker room door - and in the back of your mind, your last shred of sentience thanks Roman for preemptively locking it when everyone else had left.

The force behind his thrusts leaves you absolutely breathless as you stare helplessly into his eyes, moans and huffs flowing from your lips like a waterfall while the pleasure in your core ticks up bit by bit.

The faster he pounds into you and the longer he goes on, the more your walls close in around him like a warm, silken vice, your cunt tightening in around him and not letting him go at all. Your pleasure spikes when he moves his hand down slightly to pinch your clit, making you jolt as you arch your back as best you can.

The rug beneath you scratches against your skin as he runs you ragged on top of it, your shoulder blades and the top of your back taking the brunt of the burn. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when you squeeze them closed, but the sharp sting of Roman’s hand coming down on your clit snaps them right back open again.

You hiss at the pain but it all just melts right back into pleasure all over again and it doesn’t escape his keen eyes, his flat of his hand coming down on the button over and over again. And you can’t resist the urge to rake your nails down his arms as your nerves flare all through your body.

The telltale signs of your impending orgasm are clear to you both: the dilation in your eyes, the way your thighs stretch and quake as he presses down on them and how quickly you begin to pant.

“Fu-uck, Roman, I need…I need-”

The feeling of Roman’s hand sliding up your chest and around your neck cuts you off, your breath hitching and your eyes widening. “You need what, baby? Don’t go all shy on me now? Or have I fucked all the sense out of you already?”

He sneers and squeezes the sides of your throat, making you gasp. “You get to cum when I say that you can, when I give you the go ahead…you understand me? Hmm? Nod your head for me, baby girl.”

You follow his orders to a tee, staving off your looming orgasm by trying to focus on something, anything that’s not the pulsating feeling between your legs or the way he drives his cock into you, the build-up in his pace doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

“R-Roman…” Your voice is weak behind the grip of his hand, his thumb brushing along the front of your throat and pressing down.

“Not yet, baby girl. I didn’t say you could cum yet.” Each word he speaks is enunciated by a powerful thrust of his hips, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each one. “Don’t you want to be good for me? Don’t you want to please your Tribal Chief?”

Your voice is soft when you attempt to answer him, crying out “yes, yes I do” as he plows into you harder than before, your back now actively rubbing against the coarse carpet every time Roman’s pelvis connects with yours.

He groans when he looks into your watery eyes, your cheeks stained with your tears and spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. Your face is a mess, your entire body is flushed right with heat, you look a mess, and it’s all because of him.

Your blubbering and the tears that flow from your eyes do something fierce to him as his own orgasm begins to crest, the way your walls grip his shaft driving him absolutely mad with desire. He has to bite down on his tongue to keep from letting go, the sharp pain making him curse as his hips begin to stutter.

“Shit!” he yells, abruptly tearing his cock from you with a wet squelch, your arousal dripping from the head and staining the carpet. Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he grips the base of his cock in his fist again before leaning in to plant a furious kiss to his lips, stealing what little breath you have left away once more.

It’s all teeth and tongue and fiery passion that stokes the already blazing inferno within your soul and when he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and tugs on it, it hurts so good that you whine against his lips and arch into his touch when he pulls away.

Your voice is weak and slightly hoarse when you ask, “Roman?”

“Over the bench, baby. I want you on your hands and knees when I cum inside you.”

That steely gaze from before makes its return and you visibly cower beneath it, standing on shaky legs as you make your way over to one of the nearby benches before draping your weary and sensitive body over it. You feel exposed in this position - even more so due to the fact that you can’t even see him when he pulls the globes of your ass apart to gaze at how slick and messy you’ve become due to his actions.

His hand comes down on the skin and you jolt, scrambling to grab the cold wood of the bench before he does it again…and again.

And again and again as the sharp, stinging pain rings proud and true all over the meat of your ass, heat blooming beneath the skin and radiating off of it. Roman’s hand comes down on one, then the other, and then spreads them with one hand to deliver another blow right to your sensitive folds, causing you to let out a high-pitched scream that has you nearly bolting off the bench.

“Stay still,” he tells you, his chest rumbling as he lays a more firm slap on your ass, another whimper slipping from you. “You only move when I tell you to move, baby girl.”

Roman continues to lay blow after blow to your ass and now to your achingly wet folds, rutting his cock against you as you grind back against him, More tears leak from your eyes as the stinging pain begins to melt into aching pleasure, a litany of broken moans and sobs passing through your lips right before he slides his cock right back inside you.

He meets no resistance and his hips meet yours damn near instantly, picking up his brutal pace right where he left off while you gasp for air. It’s like you can feel his cock all the way in your lungs with how deep he’s pounding into you, the sound of skin hitting sticky skin bouncing off the walls of the locker room.

Your chest presses firmly against the bench, your breasts aching from how firmly he holds your hips against it while his pace goes into overtime. Everyone outside be damned, the noises leaving your mouth couldn’t be silenced even if the damn door was broken down.

The sounds of his name and cries for more fill his ears and he drifts a hand up your back, trailing his fingers up your spine before wrapping his hand in your hair and yanking your head back against his chest.

“That’s it, scream for me,” you hear him say in your ear, the drop in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You feel his lips trace the shell of your ear, biting down on it and then moving down to your jaw. His other hand grasps your chin and pulls your head to the side, his teeth grazing the side of your neck before he sinks his teeth into it.

And the yell that you let out because of it almost rattles the very walls that surround you as you weakly reach your arms back behind your head and wrap them around his own neck, keeping his head there as he plows into you. Your hips ache, your ass fucking burns from his pelvis colliding against it, everything on your body stings and aches and hurts but you love it, you love it all.

You can feel the marks and bruises that his hands,his lips, his teeth leave on your body already begin to bruise, and you can already tell that the ones staining your ass are going to make it hard to sit down or even walk for days to come…

But you’ll wear those marks, those bruises, you’ll wear everything with your head held high and with pride in your eyes because despite all that Roman’s faced these past few months, he still has you willingly and wholly and wholeheartedly.

The sweet kiss of your orgasm comes to fruition again and you can feel that wave begin to crest over; you won’t be able to last much longer if he keeps going at the pace he’s at right now, your toes curling as you dig your own nails into his scalp to pull his head from your neck. You instinctively squeeze around his cock, feeling his balls slap against your clit over and over again and making you jump and jolt around.

“R-Roman, please, ’m gonna…, I need to, please-”

He can’t help but groan as he roughly kisses the side of your head, holding your beginning-to-go-limp upper body close to his chest. “Fuck me, baby, you’re gonna cum? You’re gonna soak my cock and stain the floor?”

You feel him smile against your cheek when you nod. “I feel you clenching around me, princess, so why don’t you be a good girl for your Tribal Chief and cum for me? I want this pussy sloppy fucking wet by the time I’m done with you.”

The weight of him against your back side, the way he slips a hand between your legs and begins to play with your clit again, furiously rubbing the bud between his fingers as he pumps his hips even faster…it has your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you pant like a bitch in heat, Roman playing you like a finely tuned instrument and pushing all of the right buttons.

It all comes to a head when he starts to murmur in your ear,words and wishes of how he’s going to fill you up just like how you want and leave you dripping full of his cum all over the floor by the time the night ends, firmly grasping your breast with his other hand and twisting your nipple fiercely.

Blood rushes to your ears so damn fast that you can just barely hear the words that leave his lips but once you do…oh, the reaction that he gets has him cheesing something fierce, those sharp teeth of his bared for the whole world to see.

Your entire body shakes, completely vibrates with the need to cum as you fly closer and closer to that edge, clinging to Roman for dear life - but not before he tilts your head to the side and kisses you so passionately that you fall limp in his hold, his tongue meshing together with yours.

“Don’t hold yourself back anymore, baby girl. Cum for me, cum for me now-”

He speaks against your lips and your inner walls give way to your orgasm, that wave cresting and your body bending along with it as you soak his cock with a cry so loud that it rings louder in your ears than your bloodrush does. Your heart feels as though it’s about to leap through your chest and out of your mouth, your hands drifting from his hair and your arms wrapping around his neck behind you.

You can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as it presses against your back and it’s just as fast as yours, and a final high pitched moan escapes your mouth as you soak his cock completely, his hips stuttering against yours while his thrusts begin to slow.

You audibly moan at the warmth that fills your core when you feel him jut his hips against yours and stays there, fully inserted within you as his own climax takes the reins.

It feels like a punch square to his gut when his cock throbs against that sweet spot that lines your walls, his resolve crumbling and his mind going blank for a few seconds. “Fuck,” Roman groans, the sound rumbling through your whole body as you feel him paint your walls with his cum, the head of his cock pressing snugly against your cervix while he grips your flesh and digs his fingers in wherever he can put them.

Your thighs, your chest, your waist, your neck, it doesn’t matter; at the end of the night, your entire body is going to be covered in his marks, whether you like it or not.

Your brain is scrambled and he rests his head on top of yours, massaging your clit to get the final jitters of your orgasm out of you before he finally lets you breathe. Your vision remains blurry from a mix of how tightly you squeezed your eyes shut and from the tears that still linger within it, your face remains a stained mess from your destroyed makeup, and you don’t even want to talk about the state that your hair resides in…but in this moment, you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

But, he’ll tell you that soon enough.

For now, he simply cradles your trembling body to his chest, his cock still snug along your inner walls as he rocks his body against yours; over and over again, calming the rocky waves of your climaxes - both yours and him - as he begins to take his own breath and takes the first seconds of the night to finally think about the events that have occurred.

His blood, his closest family has betrayed him, left him in the dirt and dust and tossed him aside…and now all that he has left is you.

You and the strength, the stability, the everything that’s left of his Bloodline reside within you, and he can’t let you go.

He just can’t.

He won’t let you go, not now and not ever…not after everything tonight.

As time passes and when he doesn’t speak, you take the first steps. “...Roman? Are you okay?” you ask, your voice hoarse and your throat dry from all of your screaming.

“Please…” you hear him whisper against your back, pressing his lips to the back of your neck as he pants, still coming down from the force of his orgasm. “Please…don’t leave.”

Please don’t leave me.

And hearing that, hearing his voice crack slightly as his lips move from the nape of your neck upwards, curving up towards your jawline and around the shell of your ear…it breaks you, it utterly breaks something within your soul.

As you think back to the previous weeks, you could already see the threads of dissension within the eyes of Solo, the traps being laid by The Usos to bring the young man closer to their side and away from Roman’s.

The true and final nail in the coffin of the Bloodline, the removal of the Samoan Enforcer, the last shred of foundation that holds this entire empire of Roman’s together…you can feel it in his every motion, every single press of his fingers against your skin, every pull of his arms as he brings you in further and further to his own body: he’s terrified of losing everything, everything that he has left, everything that he is.

“I won’t, Roman,” you tell him, curling your body against his, allowing him to surround you with everything that he has and everything that he’s willing to give you. “I won’t leave. I’ll never leave, I promise.”

A few moments pass, and what precious moments they are. No words are spoken, barely any movements are made aside from the slight rocking of his hips against your own and the heaving of your chests as you both breathe, just…nothing.

A good nothing.

A good nothing that allows you both to just be in touch with yourselves and with each other.

After those few moments pass, you speak to him again, gently running your fingertips over his forearms. “Look, we’ll forge a new Bloodline, okay? Together. You and me and Paul and Solo-”

Roman buries his face in your hair at the mention of Solo’s name, taking a deep breath in of a scent that’s just entirely you mixed with tinges of him…a perfect combination, the perfect combination.

“If we can’t rely on your family to maintain this faction, this dynasty…then we’ll make a new one of our own. Bigger and better and more powerful than Jimmy and Jey could ever comprehend.”

A tense silence follows your words before Roman finds his own to respond.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your head, another kiss being pressed to your hair as he thinks. You’re right, after all.

If his own family won’t stand at his side, if he can’t rely on his own bloodline…then you two will create your own dynasty…together.

And together, the two of you will take down and dismantle whatever is left of Jimmy and Jey, for all of the new hell that they’ve now brought upon themselves.

And that’s not a threat, Roman thinks to himself as he curls his body around yours against the cool floor of the locker room, not wanting to get up nor remove himself from the comfort and relief that you provide him.

That’s a fucking promise.

“So..can I get my clothes now? And, are we gonna get up and unlock the door, or…?”

You feel his chest rumble as he chuckles, his smile against your skin growing just that bit wider. “Nah, they can all wait a few more minutes. Besides…”

“...I’m not finished with you just yet.”

Oh, fuck…

Tag List:

@auraravenora77 @stargazerofgoldenwords @writinglionqueen @axelwolf8109 @adampage @doctorbrittbaker @neversatisfiedgirl @atiny-angel @reci24 @brownblackbeautiful @glowingz @lemonjvicey @moxxieswitchblade @beardedbarba @annoyedkayah2395 @theworldofotps @gold--gucciempress @shanie-is-komania @jazzy-tzw @colesterstrudel @claymorexpunisher @dori-the-rwby-addict @thephoenixreaper @thepalaceofmelanie @mistress-to-the-moon @sassymox @jeffhardyenigmawwefan @lynsrosegarden @thatpanpal @new-zealand-chic @auburnwrites @deepdisireslonging @bigpsychicbagelauthor @shortyiceheart @demonslunacy @snarkandsarcasmftw @thatnerdwriter @scuzmunkie @taryn-dibiase @luciddrreamss @xfirespritex @itsreigns @officialbroski10-blog @new-zealand-chic @rowinathequeenofpersia @roofgeese @p0is0nl0ve @flawlessglamazon @dreamlesswonder86

please please please lmk if i missed anyone (on the tag list) and lmk if you wanna be added to it/removed from it! tysm and have a blessed one 😘✌🏾

#rezz writes some bullshit #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x reader smut #roman reigns x reader fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe x reader fanfiction #wwe x reader smut #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x you #oh my god...rezzy actually posting a fic??? with ACTUAL smut in it???? color me gooped and gagged and shocked to shit lmao #but please enjoy this y'all i spent way too much time overthinking this XD

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normansnt · 3 months

Text

Knight in shining armor

(Hazbin Adam x singer!male reader)

(Not my art, idk whose sorry I got it from pinterest but credits to the artist cuz he would SO wear that I cant😭)

Warnings: fist fight

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"FUCK YEAAHHHHHH THATS MY BOYFRIEND MF" yelled Adam to a random person at your concert.

He always did that. Whenever he went to one of your concerts (always, I am not kidding the man has not missed a single one) he yelled to every one of your songs because he knew them inside out and after each song he yelled to someone that you're his boyfriend.

It was sweet in your eyes he was truly your number one fan. However on more than one occasion this has gotten out of hand. Like right now.

Sometimes people get annoyed at his yelling even though it is a rock concert he is still the loudest one. But this time it was different. This time something happened that actually bothered him.

He was yelling about how much he loves you and how you are his boyfriend again when he overheard something that he didn't like.

"For real? That gorgeous singer is dating that flop no fucking way."

"I know right? I gotta say I wouldn't mind hearing the singers voice moaning my-" Adam didn't wait longer to hear the end of the sentence he straight on punched that guy.

"I fucking DARE you to finish that sentence." Adam literally growled. Even though this was heaven, assholes were present here too.

The fight got so big that you had to stop your performance and stop it.

"Adam- Adam stop" you tried to get your boyfriend off of the two guys who he was now fighting.

"Let me go babe, I'm gonna fucking murder those two mother fuckers-"

"Adam, they already had enough you won." You tried arguing with him while you dragged him to your dressing room. The two guys laying on the floor beaten to pulp.

Once you closed the door, the ruckus outside got just a bit quieter and you could finally take a deep breath.

"What happened this time?" You asked your boyfriend while getting the first aid kit and patching him up. He was much better of than the other guys thats true. But he still had some scratches and a black eye.

Adam told you the whole story of what happened and you listened intently while gently putting some alcohol at a deep cut on his nose.

"And then I was like- aww fuck babe warn me next time" he started whining because of the alcohol.

You sighed.

"Listen Adam, I appreciate what you did, those pigs said some disgusting shit and you were a great knight in shining armor but I worked really hard to get this gig and you know that" you said trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Babe, your boyfriend is the fucking Adam, tell me where you want to preform and you'll get in within seconds I can take care of that."

"I know Adam but I really wanna accomplish some things on my own." You sighed again.

Adam knew he fucked up, he sees first hand how much work you put into your music. But he just couldn't help it this is the kind of thing that pisses him off to no end. His first two wives left him for someone else and even though he might act confident he was terrified that you would leave him, too. He didn't want to loose someone he loved so much.

You put your hand on his cheek and made him look at you.

"Hey, its ok I understand." Thats all you needed to say. You knew about Lilith and Eve leaving him. And you knew how insecure he actually felt. You have been dating for almost 6 years now you knew him way too well.

You kissed him to let him know that you weren't mad. He kissed back with enthusiasm, he loved kissing you. It might be true that he has kissed a lot of people before you came along but he always said that you were his favorite kisser of all time. He just loved the feeling of your lips against his.

"(Y/N)...I- listen I mean what I said really, wherever you wanna play I can hook you up."

You chuckled lightly. You knew this was the closest thing you are gonna get out of him as an apology, the man was not good at apologizing. But you already knew that, and loved him nonetheless.

"I know honey I know." You put your forehead on his.

The wholesome moment was interrupted when you both started hearing chanting from outside.

"Is that-?"

"THEY ARE CHANTING YOUR NAME BABY COME ON GET YOUR BRETTY ASS OUT THERE"

And there he was again, your stupid boyfriend.

You laughed an snatched up your guitar.

"All right baby you wanna watch from back stage?" You asked back as you held out your hand to him.

"FUCK YEAAHH"

And with that you two walked out of your dressing room laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HE IS JUST A STUPID LITTLE MEN HELP I LOVE HIM SM IDK WHY😭😭

Hope you guys enjoyed😘~

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin adam

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sakumz · 1 month

Text

a/n : this man. knows how to drive one crazy hj ------------------------------------------------------

[ m. orter x fem reader ]

-------------------------------------------------------

" mind if I take that seat? " a voice you know all too well says beside you, you look up from stirring your drink to see orter.

" sure, " you said and a veil of awkward silence pours. orter took this as an opportunity to order a drink and another bottle for both of you. thanking him as he pushes up his spectacles.

" you approve of that mash kid? " orter takes a sip of his drink as he awaits your answer.

" he did play my game... as a divine visionary I guess its only fair I keep my end of the bet ? I suppose you can say I've given my full support in that non magic guy. " you cheekily smile.

" I can't believe you made him play hide and seek. were you even trying to make it hard? no less the toy plush you're using is the size of a child. " he points to your bear companion, sitting by your side.

" it had murderous intentions... nearly killed that freckle kid. " you can't help but try not to laugh at the memory, even making your bear turn to face orter.

he wasn't faze, only rubbing his head. ryoh, rayne and kaldo already approve of the boy. with you, that's almost half of the divine visionary approving the boy. maybe he should assassinate him in secret? would that make you cry? you do have a soft spot for people younger than you. sometimes putting shows and playing with random children on the streets whenever he and you are on patrol duty.

" I still can't believe you. " he extends his hand with his wand, pushing your bear away. it fell to the ground and disappeared. your magic probably made it disappear when it touched the ground.

you lean in close, close to kissing orter but you can't help but giggle. he's such a child. was he mad at your approval to mash?

instead of a kiss, you were met with a headbutt.

" what the heck? " you rub both your hands at the wound.

" you're a betrayer. why would I kiss a betrayer of my heart? " he says it so calmly, it did tick you off.

" oh come on, he won... not really fair since the first round, my bear was the hider and he nearly got beaten to a pulp the moment he was found by the red hair and mushroom hair. there wasn't any rules so my bear was allowed to shrink... " you mumbled the last part as orter can't help but remember the first time you made him and the rest of the visionary play your hide and seek game.

everyone was easily found but the second it was your turn to hide your bear. you shrunk it to the size of a coin, hiding it in kaldo's honey. they only found it when kaldo nearly choke at the feeling of something. thank goodness the bear was just illusion like, it disappeared the moment kaldo starts coughing. you summon it in your palm as you present to the rest, the size of the bear and how they've won since no one surrendered. everyone nearly killed you that day.

" what's so funny? " you pout at the sandman when he starts laughing at the memory. he's getting tipsy from the drinks too.

" nothing. I love you so much, betrayer of my heart. " he leans to plant a kiss on your head.

" don't call me that, if you said to kill him. I would've done it. " you kick his leg as he sighs.

" you won't. you won't do things without reasons. you fail to follow rules too, " he flicks your forehead.

he was right, having met him when he was newly announced as a visionary. he knew you quite well. too well sometimes. it's only fair since he's your lover. you sigh before grabbing his cup and putting it away from him.

" well, no matter what, I'd still listen to you. just maybe I do wish this mash kid make a change. the magicless and magic living together doesn't sound all too bad. we're all humans, after all. the status quo doesn't matter to me when life is involved. I've seen my share of bloodshed. change isn't all too bad either, orter. " he can't help but flush a little at your reprimand.

in his head, you were right and wrong. he loves you dearly and would support you. the status quo is something he cherishes to an extent. he feels a kiss to his cheek as he meets your eyes after, one so full of love.

" let's go home, this talk won't change my mind and I won't force it upon you to approve of mash. just don't make things hard for the poor guy, " your words obviously went in and out the other ear. orter was set on ending mash. even the words of his dearest may not be important at the moment.

" you're such a child, " he stirs to which you narrow your eyes at him, one close to a glare.

" says the big baby, I can literally beat you in a fight if I take down your weakness first. " you raise a fist.

" oh yeah, what's the weakness? " he had his hand prompting his face, tilting it to the side as he smiles uncharacteristically.

" your glasses. once it's out of the way, you're done for. " you smile back as your fisted hand made impact to his face, not physically and painfully punching him. just a light tap.

" I thought you'd say you're my weakness. " he was really getting drunk as he giggles to himself.

" what, you're my weakness. " you playfully pout as orter grabs you to give you a hug.

" go home, idiots. " the bartender sighs at your antics. giving him a soft chuckle as you feel orter's weight on you.

he had fallen asleep. you summon one of your plush toys to help pay the bill from your wallet and then a few more to help you carry the man. how you hope he'd forgotten half of what happened tonight and the fact you paid instead of him. he'll definitely make a fuss if he knew, but what's the point of being rich as a divine visionary if you can't spend. he loves you to death just like you love him too. complicated relationship but there's so much love in it. orter enjoys your company and he's forever thankful for your existence.

#orter madl x reader #orter x reader #mashle x reader #sakumz.pdf

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malarign · 11 months

Text

shoulder nap

(when you’re playing games and fall asleep on his shoulder)

contains: crush!Riki x fem!reader | genre: fluff | tw! mentions of food, like one peck? i think that’s it | wc: 0,6k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i don’t really like this one but hey! finally wrote something for our baby puma! enjoy!! also,, am i posting everything i have in my drafts from frustration? maybe :)) anygays enjoy!!

author’s note2: just added the second part! you can read it here :))

“Open!” you shouted from your kitchen at the sound of the chaotic knocks left on your front door.

Soon they opened wide, revealing your best friend, Riki. Well, the term “best friend” doesn’t exactly express how you truly felt when it came to him. At first, you viewed him as an annoying brother, yet it all changed when both of you grew up. You realized how he changed and matured in many ways, while still being cheerful and playful with his friends. Trying to deny your feelings for as long as you could you finally gathered your courage to confess only for him to make his dreams of becoming an idol come true. It was hard, trying to be happy for him and suppressing your feeling for the sake of his career and your friendship.

“Ready to get your ass beaten, Y/nah?” Riki asked teasingly while going next to you to pour himself a soda.

“You wish,” you teased back and made him help you prepare the snacks for your weekly game night.

Back in the day, you used to hang out almost every day, but now it had to be limited to once a week, sometimes even once a month. He always tried to not let you see how drained he truly was, but knowing him this long you knew how hard he worked.

Both of you sat down on your couch and started playing. As always your living room filled up with giggles, screams of victories, and groans of losses.

Soon your eyelids started to feel heavy and you noticed how your head started falling. When it happened for a nth time you heard a small giggle to your left. You sent a death glare in Riki’s direction only for him to laugh louder at your attempt to intimidate him. You smiled seeing how his eyes turned into small crescents and cheeks lifted in a wide smile.

You continued to play but your tiredness grew with every round you played. Not realizing it, your head landed straight on his shoulder. As soon as you felt the fabric of his T-shirt you raised your head swiftly.

“I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed nervously, hoping your blush wouldn’t be too visible in the dimmed light of one single lamp.

“It’s okay, Y/nie,” he spoke softly, this time a gentle smile creeping to his lips.

You felt how your cheeks burned, not sure if the cause of that state was your skin-to-skin contact or the way he called you.

But to your dismay, any attempts of suppressing annoying yawns and overflowing fatigue were pointless. Your head once again landed on his shoulder. For a while, he thought you were going to wake up soon, but it ended up with him disconnecting your controller and finishing the round alone. Once he won he almost screamed out of joy but stopped at the last second not wanting to wake you up. He looked down at your peaceful state, noticing a cute pout that formed on your lips. He smiled to himself and carefully tucked a lone strand of your hair behind your ear.

How he wished he could see you like this more. He held back the urge to lock you safely in his arms and leave a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Do I have anything to lose?” he asked himself and did what he just tried to contain within his mind only.

His hands slowly moved your body so that now you lay in between his legs, head now placed on his chest. He prayed you couldn’t feel how his heart was racing, yet he mustered up the courage to leave a shy peck on the crown of your head.

“Sweet dreams, Y/nie.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

#kflixnet #enhanet #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen imagine #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen niki #niki fic #niki imagines #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki x y/n #niki x you #nishimura riki #nishimura riki x reader

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madkatiscool · 1 year

Text

Highlights from the entire MCYT Sexyman Tournament

Before the Tournament Began (Nomination Phase):

-Goodtimeswithscar getting over 2000 nominations for the poll

-Two people's minecraft ocs were nominated, and one of those ocs actually got into the competition

-The runners of the poll telling people not to tell the CCs about this, only for every CC to find out about this poll and start rallying their fans to vote for them

-Joe Hills got very jealous that Scar had more votes than him to the point where he literally used Tumblr Blaze to promote himself, and posted a video of him swimming in a pool on his blog

-Technodad also encouraging people to vote for his son after finding out about the polls

The Main Tournament:

-Dream getting absolutely decked by Seepeekay (deserved)

-Clownpierce and Tubbo's poll ending in 50% by 50% where the people running the poll had to go into the polls literal code to find out that Clownpierce won by only 18 votes

-Clownpierce getting beaten out by Aimsey in Round 2 immediately afterwards

-Quackity and Schlatt losing their polls at first, only for people to churn out propaganda, and getting them the wins by very close calls

-The Dominion SMP fandom made alliances with other fandoms (the Lifesteal fandom being one of them) to try and get Vikingpilot more votes

-JimmySolidarity looking at the polls and seeing that someone called him a "wet paper bag of a man"

-Martyn voting for his friends in the polls

-One Tumblr blog made a straight up news channel for the polls

-Someone else also made an easier way to read votes on polls

-Another person converted the voting data into line graphs

-Scott calling Jimmy a queerbaiter when their characters went up against each other

-The Scar vs Techno fight, the Wilbur vs Joe fight, and the Grian vs Quackity fight, all happening in the same round

-Huge amounts of voter fraud

-Grian winning his fight with Quackity, only for Quackblr to change the tides in the last few minutes (perhaps one of the craziest fights I have ever seen)

-The poll made it onto Tumblr trending

-Quackblr made an alliance with the Ethogirls, which eventually led to fanart of Quackity and Etho together, along with a few "infamous" edited photos (you know what I'm talking about)

-The voter fraud in the poll eventually lead to the possibility of Tumblr actually dealing with the pornbot situation

-The whole entire event had powerpoint presentations for peoples favorite blorbos, propaganda, fanart, alliances, even a few written oneshots

-Literally just every poll with Quackity

-Other people made polls inspired by this one (@mcytblrcringefail as one example)

-The fact that the poll literally revived the entire fandom

-The poll became canon in Jimmy’s 30 day Minecraft Hardcore server

-And most importantly, Joe Hills, the one MCYT who did the most campaigning, won the polls against Scar

Thank you @mcytblrsexymen. You have done an amazing job.

#mcyt sexyman #mcyt #mcyt fandom #mcytblr

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metalhoops · 1 year

Text

// Read Part 1 Here // Read Part 2 Here //

“Can you believe that bullshit, Stevie?” Eddie questioned, from his spot in Steve’s lap.

The two were together on the Munsons’ beaten-up couch. Steve’s day had dragged on like bare feet in river mud. As far as he could gather, Eddie’s had been the same. The room was hot with the ghost of summer, despite it being mid-March. Eddie’s hair between Steve’s fingers was soft and fizzed.

“Can I believe that Lucas refused to ditch the championship game for your fantasy club, that could be rescheduled? Yeah,” Steve paraphrased, feeling Eddie sit slightly as he craned his head to get a better look at Steve.

“You’re on his side, aren’t you?” Eddie mumbled, discontent clear in his voice. Steve didn’t like it. He hummed and leaned down to place a chased kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“You’re not meant to be on his side,” Eddie grumbled, laying back down.

It was rare that the two disagreed. The disagreement had to be big enough to get a rise out of Steve, but if the situation called for it, he’d put his foot down.

“It’s a big deal for him,” Steve reasoned, watching Eddie’s jaw clench.

He’d gotten to know the boy well enough over the past few months. He knew what would come next. If he didn’t act soon, he’d have to sit through a monologue on the sanctity of the game and Lucas’ betrayal at having chosen sports over his friends. Steve didn’t mind the rants. He liked that Eddie was passionate. He did, but Eddie was right. Steve was on Lucas’ side.

“I know this is a big deal for you, too. Getting to the end of the game or whatever, but can’t you just do it another day? It’d mean the world to the kid,” Steve reasoned.

He knew by the rounding of Eddie’s shoulders and the elongated groan that escaped his lips that he’d won.

“Fine, I’ll postpone a week, but you owe me big time. Next date you’re paying.”

Steve didn’t argue. Hell, he liked paying for Eddie. The guy normally wouldn’t have a bar of it.

“Wipe that smug smile off your face, Harrington. I get to pick what we do. I’m going to drag you to the loudest concert this side of the Mississippi the first chance I get.”

Steve nodded, twisting Eddie’s fraying curl between his fingertips.

“In the meantime, I was thinking of heading to the game,” Steve proposed.

Eddie groaned. He knew Steve too well. He knew what was coming next.

“You’re going to drag my ass to the basketball game, aren’t you?”

Eddie sat, switching to the far side of the couch to show his displeasure at the idea. However, he threw his feet in Steve’s lap, so he knew they were okay.

He thought they were okay.

“Lucas will want you to be there.”

“You know we can’t actually go together without people talking,” Eddie noted as Steve drove his thumb into the heel of the boy’s foot absentmindedly.

“I don’t care,” Steve stated.

He meant it. He’d given up on trying to be Hawkins’ golden boy years before. He just wanted to be the type of person he could live with.

“Maybe I do,” Eddie spoke, stopping Steve cold.

Steve worried. He always goddamn worried. Yes, he was waiting for the day he lost someone he cared about to the hell dimension, but it was more than that. He also worried about mundane stuff, like Eddie waking up and deciding they were bullshit. He’d been so sure he and Nancy were in love up until the second she told him they weren’t. That was a blow he wasn’t sure he’d ever heal from.

He must have gone too quiet, sat stock, still in the growing silence. Eddie sat up and tugged at the hem of Steve’s shirt until he lay down beside him. The two were crushed uncomfortably close, side by side. Eddie’s knee was tucked between Steve’s legs. Eddie touched Steve’s face. It was something only he could get away with. If it were anyone else, he would hate it.

“Not what I meant,” Eddie spoke, implicitly knowing where Steve’s train of thought had headed.

“I just meant, I care because I know if any dick head in town had enough brain cells to put two and two together, we’d be screwed,” Eddie began, taking a deep breath. Steve settled back, bracing himself for the monologue.

“Your parents would kick you out. Then the town would try to run me out with pitchforks. I’m not saying we’ll never... you know. I’m just saying we’ve gotta be smart about it. When I’m done with high school and we save up enough money to have an escape plan for when things go to shit, then we can toss around the idea of going to stupid basketball games together.” Steve sighed but nodded, understanding Eddie’s point of view.

Sometimes Steve got sick of being cautious. He got sick of waiting for other people to change their minds about something that didn’t have anything to do with them. He’d had some good goddamn sense knocked into him. He wished someone would do the same for everyone else.

“We can hang out after the game. I’ve got something to do first, but I’ll swing around your place after ten.” Eddie proposed.

Steve didn’t ask what Eddie was doing. If Eddie wanted him to know, he would’ve told him, and despite Steve’s many hang-ups, he trusted Eddie as much as he could trust anyone.

“Ten works,” Steve agreed.

The afternoon faded. Steve left Eddie to go to the game. He watched with his gaggle of kids by his side, glancing down at Robin in the marching band when her high school crush took to the stage with a shit-eating grin. He wanted to be there with Eddie, but this was a good consolation. He was sure he’d have bruises on his side by morning from Dustin constantly elbowing him in the side every time Lucas got the ball.

He was so damn proud of Lucas for scoring the winning point. Though Steve would admit, he’d have been proud of the kid if they’d lost by a mile. He was learning what love was about, love without contingencies. Eddie, Robin and the kids were teaching him the lessons he’d never picked up from his parents.

He got back to his place around nine, took a shower and switched on a mindless T.V. re-run to fill the silence while he waited for Eddie. He was two episodes deep when he felt the familiar sensation of dread begin to well in the pit of his stomach.

Eddie was two hours late when Steve’s worry shifted to full-blown panic. He tried to tell himself everything was fine, that Eddie got caught up and he’d walk through the door any minute. He picked up his bat from beneath his bed and paced the halls like an animal in an enclosure.

It was three in the morning when Steve resigned himself to the fact that Eddie wasn’t coming. He called the Munsons at the god-awful hour of the night, hoping beyond hope that Eddie would pick up. He’d be pissed off at Steve for waking him up, but then he’d let him know what was going on.

He didn’t answer.

Maybe Steve had read things wrong. Maybe he and Eddie had a fight. They were fighting. That’s why Eddie hadn’t shown up.

He lay in bed until the light of morning thawed his bones and set him free from his wide-eyed, paralytic state of unrest. Instead of heading to work, he drove to the trailer park, swerving the Beamer off the dirt track as the blue lights painted the horizon. There was a swarm of cop cars parked outside Eddie’s trailer. Steve’s body moved of its own accord, rushing through the swarm of cops to find Wayne Munson smoking at the picnic benches, a nearly imperceptible tremor to his fingers.

Steve didn’t ask what happened. Not right away. His mind was full of worst-case scenarios, none of which could be true until they were spoken into existence. For now, everything was unknown. For now, there was a chance Eddie was safe. He let his legs buckle beneath him as he sat beside Wayne, wondering when he’d made a habit of having panic attacks with Munson men near picnic benches.

“Was Eddie with you last night?” Wayne asked between drags of the cigarette.

Steve shook his head.

Eddie had told Wayne about them. Steve had sat across the breakfast table from the man half a dozen times, but they’d never really talked without Eddie in the room.

“Was he meant to be?” With a defeated sigh, Steve nodded.

“What happened?” He asked, at last, tired of drawing out the inevitable.

“I came home from my shift and there was a body.” All the colour fell from Steve’s face.

“Not Eddie’s. Some girl. Cops are sayin’ they think he killed her. I reckon we both know that ain’t true.” Steve didn’t know what to do with that information. Eddie was alive.

He listened to Wayne describe the scene with a growing feeling of dread. He’d seen enough of the Upside Down to understand that an eyeless girl, broken and bent like a marionette puppet and a missing boy seemed like part of its M.O. He was late for work.

He needed to let Robin and the kids know what was going on. He skirted past the police and drove to the video store. His body was working on autopilot. To his surprise, Dustin and Max were already there.

He watched as a disgruntled Robin tried to shoo them from behind the register. Steve cleared his throat, hoping beyond hope that the kids didn’t notice the red rim of his eyes as he placed his hands on his hips.

“What the hell are you two doing? Shouldn’t you be at school?” He tried to play it off like it was any other day, as though he was fine. Robin’s watchful eyes let him know she saw right through him.

“We’re looking for places Eddie could hide.” Dustin breathed, stopping Steve in his tracks. He shut up and let them explain.

“We were thinking he could be at Reefer Rick’s place,” Max supplied after Dustin finished his tangent. Steve remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“Alright, well, quick. Get your shit, if we’re doing this.” Steve grumbled, sliding off his video store vest and leaving it on the counter. Eddie wasn’t dead. That was something.

“That’s great and all, Steve, but we still don’t know where the hell we’re going,” Dustin argued at Steve’s heels as the four rushed out into the parking lot.

“I know where he lives,” Steve supplied, catching the disbelieving look shared between Max and Dustin. He hadn’t told the kids about him and Eddie.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was complicated. Everything about him and Eddie felt complicated. He didn’t want them to be a secret, but it was a necessity to keep them both safe, to keep Eddie safe. He’d told Robin because he knew she was safe. She was an extension of himself. He couldn’t not tell Robin, but the rest of the party was still in the dark.

“I didn’t think you did drugs, Steve,” Dustin spoke sceptically as they piled into the car.

“I don’t do drugs... Put on your seatbelt, Henderson.”

“Then why do you know where a notorious drug dealer lives?” Dustin pushed.

“Seriously, kid. I’m not backing out until you’re buckled in,” Steve warned. Now was not the time to get a D.A.R.E. presentation.

“Steve, should I be worried?” Dustin asked as Max spoke up,

“Of course he does drugs. He’s at Eddie’s place all the time.”

Both Steve and Robin turned back to look at the girl with wide eyes. Of course, Steve should’ve realised Max saw his BMW parked outside the Munsons’ trailer. He hadn’t been thinking.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything because we’re all going through shit,” Max elaborated as Dustin shot her a look of utter betrayal.

“I didn’t think you guys were... friendly. I didn’t think you liked him,” Dustin gaped, finally buckling up.

Steve tried to drive carefully, keeping his eyes on the road and the car under the speed limit, only sometimes succeeding.

“What makes you think I don’t like Eddie?” Steve asked, trying to keep his mind off the very real potential that Eddie had just been dragged into the world he’d never wanted him to be a part of.

Eddie kept trying to push for answers about what happened to Steve. He kept promising he’d give them to him when the time was right, but he could never bring himself to do it. Sometimes the best thing was to remain ignorant. All the same, Steve couldn’t lie to him either, so they’d remained in limbo.

“You always drop me off at Hellfire, but you never say ‘hi’ to the guy."

“I wave at him,” Steve reasoned.

“From the car, Steve. It’s antisocial.”

It wasn’t long before the group pulled up outside of Rick’s. Steve knew where Eddie would hide if he were there. He led the group to the boathouse, searching the place for any sign of the boy. That led to Steve blindly poking around in the dark with an ore and an odd sense of hope. All of which was thrown out the window the second a body sprung up from the darkness to shove him against a wall.

It happened too quickly for Steve to process. There was a weight holding him in place and a sharp pressure at his throat. It wasn’t until Dustin’s calls that Steve made out Eddie’s body in the dim light.

“Woah, Eddie. It’s me. It’s Dustin,” the kid called from behind them.

The rest of the world fell away as he met Eddie’s wide, panicked eyes. He was safe. Scared as hell, but safe. The broken bottle Eddie held at his throat dropped from his hand in an instant, as did the ore from Steve’s grasp.

“It’s Steve, Eddie.”

Recognition flashed across Eddie’s face and suddenly Steve was being crushed again, this time under the weight of Eddie’s arms. The boy clung onto Steve as a drowning man would cling to driftwood. He buried his face into the nape of Steve’s neck and inhaled deeply. Steve could feel Eddie’s heart pounding against his chest. He snaked a hand around to hold the back of Eddie’s neck, forcing the boy to look at him.

“Hey. You’re okay. Just breathe with me for a second, alright?” Steve spoke, echoing Eddie’s words from the first night the two had gotten together. He watched as the rapid rise and fall of Eddie’s chest slowed.

“That’s it,” Steve soothed.

“Stevie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“M’sorry I didn’t... I couldn’t go to your place, Steve. I wanted to,” Eddie continued, his hand having moved to grasp the fabric of Steve’s shirt.

“I didn’t... I didn’t know if it’d follow me. I don’t know what the hell happened, I... you won’t believe me,” He finished at last, resting his forehead against Steve’s.

It was slick with sweat but Steve didn’t care. The others in the room had fallen away entirely. There was only Eddie.

“I think I should probably talk to you about that thing we keep meaning to talk about,” Steve breathed, drawing circles in Eddie’s skin.

“Why now?” The boy asked, disbelievingly, a hysterical laugh slipping from his lips.

“Because no matter how crazy what you’re going to tell me sounds, I believe you.”

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you two hated each other,” Dustin called, shattering the moment between them.

They pulled apart, though Eddie still kept his hand laced in Steve’s shirt while his hand migrated to the middle of Eddie’s back.

“Why would I hate my boyfriend?” Eddie breathed, clearly not thinking, hopped up on adrenaline.

“You’re what?” Dustin spoke, gawking open-mouthed at the boys.

Steve inhaled deeply, squeezed Eddie’s hip and levelled Dustin with his best, unimpressed glare, practically daring him to push on.

“That makes more sense,” Max muttered to herself as Dustin’s eyes continued to flicker between the two.

“Shut your mouth, Henderson. You’ll catch flies. We’ve got more pressing issues here,” Steve muttered, trying to work out how exactly he could explain everything to Eddie.

“I thought you were secretly dating Robin, not Eddie. What the hell, man? Neither of you told me,” Dustin pushed forward while Robin snorted, her nose scrunching at the idea.

“Really not the time, Henderson,” Eddie confirmed, his fingers worrying away at Steve’s shirt.

“That’s not fair. You’re not meant to be on his side, dude,” Dustin remarked.

“Can we all just focus for two seconds? Eddie, what happened last night at your trailer?” Steve questioned, somehow managing to wrangle the group back to the task at hand.

Steve knew by Eddie’s deep breath and trembling fingers what he was about to say. The world Steve had tried to protect the boy from had come to find him anyway. Now all Steve would do was be there to hold his hand as they walked through whatever hell the Upside Down had to offer.

Steve would keep him safe. Steve would always keep Eddie safe, no matter what.

#steddie drabble #steddie #multipost fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #bi steve harrington #back by popular demand #stranger things #stranger things 4 #kinda a fix it #season 4 retelling #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #ficlet #Metalhoops writes

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sc0tters · 20 days

Text

Guest Room | Trevor Zegras

summary: sometimes all you need is a trip away to an old friend.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (m receiving), use of a sex toy, swearing.

word count: 4.62k

authors note: this is acc for a Trevor I have never written for in pre ducks debut so this takes place in 2021! I wanted to change things up for our f1 x hockey playlist so here we have one who is a rookie! I think it should be a given by now but we need to thank @sweetestdesire for letting me pick her Trevor smut brain to help write this one out!

You needed a break.

Life had been on this weird high after you won the Formula Two championship and were now moving up into the McLaren F1 team as a reserve driver. You hated how out of place you felt yet that somehow you still hadn’t done enough to be where you deserved to be.

You had settled into your apartment in London now and after spending Christmas with your family you got an offer you couldn’t resist. Trevor had just returned home from the World Junior Championships and he was in need of some company in his apartment. He was back in San Diego awaiting his debut for the Gulls but that didn’t matter for him as he craved seeing the one person who was ready to be honest with him. You craved that attention too as you were at your wits end with everyone in your parents lives wanting to know about your career “you stay safe okay?” Ellen sighed as she pulled you into her arms.

It made Jim smile as you rolled your eyes “Z might be irresponsible but at least you know who killed me if I go missing.” You joked seeing your mom grow unimpressed “you should get going before you are late kid.” Jim pointed out as he kissed your head before he ushered you off.

Even as you went off in the world before each race your parents were watching as you left to the airport. Hockey fans were all around with most in redwings gear, making your bluejays cap blend you in as though you were meant to be a mere fly on the wall. You watched your brothers do well in both Vancouver and New Jersey when they seemed to have everything under control like they knew what they were doing was right for them.

You used to love racing, it was your everything. But spending a season forcing every free moment you had into training only to be beaten to a seat, it killed you. It threw this spanner into the works that fried your brain leaving you unsure about everything as you lacked the simple clarity that was once your comfort.

That was part of the reason you couldn’t say no to joining Trevor. He might have always been Jacks friend first but that boy knew how to react to whatever it was you seemed to feel. So in that moment you just needed someone to be honest with you.

San Diego was warmer than Michigan as you were now getting ready to discard your coat as there was no snow in sight“speedy!” As ironic as your nickname was, Trevor didn’t give it to your for your speed on a track in your car. He gave it to you because he has never seen someone run away from a group of teenager boys after a work out as fast as you do.

You whipped your head around with a soft smile on your face as you locked eyes with the older boy “it’s good to see you.” He mumbled pushing himself off of his car as he made his way over to you “wish I could say the same mr MVP.” You teased barely being able to contain your smile as you let out a laugh at the feeling of his arms around you.

It was one place that you always seemed to feel comfortable no matter where you two were “don’t start with me ms world champion.” It didn’t take him long to see that is joke didn’t land in the way that he wanted it to “think you’ve been on a long flight.” He announced taking your suitcase from behind you letting his one arm stay wrapped around your waist.

Being back around him already was having an impact on you as you felt like you were melting into his touch “thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, one you swore he couldn’t hear. But instead he smiled as he nodded opting to keep his newfound joy to himself.

In all honesty you were surprised when you saw his apartment, the ride to the building was just enough time that you were both able to catch up on life. But now you were stood in an apartment that had not one but two properly decorated rooms “when did you decide to get a bed?” You cocked your head remembering to the time where he had only an air mattress on the floor for weeks.

It made him pull his eyes into a sharp line “ha ha very funny.” He placed his keys in the bowl before his eyes shot to the grey couch in front of him “but my mom came and decorated the place.” His confession made your lips form into an o shape.

You clasped your hands together “I knew it!” A laugh left your lips as you were happy to hear that you were right “yes now would you like to come sit and tell me why you picked San Diego over New Jersey?” Jack had let it slip to Trevor how irritated he was that you didn’t want to see your brother but instead his best friend.

Trevor tapped the cushion next to him motioning to you to join him on the couch “I needed to get away.” You confessed as you shrugged “Jack means well but he thinks reserve is such a great position for me.” Your scoff wasn’t missed as you shook your head.

The boy felt bad as he knew your brother hadn’t shut up about your achievements “you deserve to be on a team.” Trevor disagreed with your opinion “and I will always let you come back here to avoid your brothers.” His words made you smile.

He watched you pull your feet on the cushion “be careful because soon you won’t get rid of me.” You joked as you let out a giggle “hey at least you know how to cook.” Trevor shrugged making you scoff.

You threw the pillow behind you at him resulting in his laugh echoing off of the walls of his apartment “I would not cook for you!” You shook your head “you wouldn’t have to do it every day.” The boy countered as he smiled.

The two of you got the chance to just sit there in this peaceful silence “but on a real note could you cook tomorrow night?” He began as he scratched the back of his head “I have practice late and I don’t think either of us can be doing restaurants two nights in a row.” He explained as your stomach growled on cue “you want dinner now?” Trevor teased as he smiled running his fingers over your knee.

You wanted to act like you were but as the last thing you had was the cut up fruit you had for breakfast and the overpriced bottle of water from the airport “let me get dressed.” You were in dire need of a proper change out of your winter clothing for the warmer weather that the west coast sported “and y/n.” Trevor called out as he watched you walk to the guest bedrooms door.

You cocked your head as you nodded “I’m glad that you’re here.” His confession was so sweet that if any of the other boys heard him, Trevor would have been chirped at forever “me too.” You smiled ad you walked into the guest bedroom letting the door shut behind you.

When Trevor left for practice you found yourself at a mall. The boy said he was going to be gone for hours with a game prep session right after which gave you both ample time to shop for groceries and window shop. Part of you had been left irritated as there was a new headline that again called into question your abilities as a driver if all you were getting was a reserve role.

It was just another tap at your sanity that was only left feeling worse after last night. You had woken up in the middle of the night needing a glass of water when you heard Trevor. He clearly had a video open of some sort as you could hear both foreign female and male voices. But what got to you about it was that it was porn.

Trevor let whimpers and moans fall from his lips that were enough to make you squirm as you had been feeling sexual frustrated. The last time you had sex was well over six months ago and your fingers and brush handle could only do so much for you and it wasn’t enough.

So when you walked by Lotions and Lace it was as though your thoughts had been answered. You had never made the jump to sex toys before but with your only other current option being your brother’s best friend it seemed like the better of the two. Your eyes settled on the first vibrator you found as it was hot pink and on some massive display case.

Before you knew it you were back at his place with dinner in the oven as you stared at the bag in front of you. The box that held the vibrator peeked out from the corner, with some over exaggerated message about pleasure on it that made your cheeks grow warm.

Your foot tapped against the floor as you looked to your watch and then back to the box, before your eyes settled on the door to Trevor’s room. He had shut it before he left but you could still hear the faint moans from last night as you let your hand form a fist as your thighs pressed against each other “fuck it.” You grumbled grabbing the bag from the table as you headed to your own room.

You didn’t bother with shutting the door behind you. Since you could feel the wet patch forming on your panties, and you swore you were going to have at least twenty minutes before Trevor came home. Your leggings were stripped from your legs as you pulled your panties down with them making sure to kick both items of clothing away.

The buzzing noise echoed in your ears as you trailed the head of the vibrator over your clit as your thighs spread “fuck.” You whimpered feeling your thighs begin to squirm.

The picture of Trevor’s moans played in your mind as you caught your lower lip between your teeth. Your eyes screwed shut as you began to tease yourself enjoying the feeling of pleasure that you hadn’t felt in years “please Z.” The whimper fell for your lips as you began to picture him on top of you.

Trevor smiled as he walked back into the apartment as the smell of chicken in the oven invaded his nostrils “y’know the offer to come live as my chef is still on the table.” He joked thinking you were sat in the living room “god.” You moaned feeling your eyes roll back into your head.

It was enough to make the boy freeze as he realised what was going on. He felt wrong letting his eyes trail to your room but somehow he couldn’t find a way to stop himself. Your moans echoed in his ears and as his cock grew harder in his shorts.

He let his bag drop to the floor as he cleared his throat “I’m so close Z.” The whimper made him walk closer to your room as he wondered if he heard you right “feel so good Trev.” Now he knew you were talking about him.

The boy took more steps to your door until he finally let his eyes stick in the opening of the door. You were a heavenly sight as you were in a strappy top and nothing on your bottom half was bare as you continued to tease your clit with your new toy.

Trevor couldn’t help but grunt as you moaned letting your body squirm against the sheets. The sudden noise made your eyes shoot open to the door where the boy stood “hey pretty girl.” You continued what you were doing as you watched him stare at you.

He smirked watching your free hand travel up to your breast “need more.” You moaned again starting to feel like you were getting close “you think I’d just let you get to come that fast?” Trevor sucked at his teeth as he crossed his arms.

Your face dropped as he laughed “c’mon you’d have to beg if you want anything more.” The boy explained walking closer to you “want you to make me feel so full.” You begged feeling tears form in your eyes as he smirked.

The boy stood his ground “so is that why you decided to act like a little slut and fuck yourself on my guest bed?” His words made your cheeks turn red as you nodded “needed it so bad.” You confessed as you watched him hover over you.

His hand dropped to yours as he helped control your hand wanting to get you to come “be a good girl and let go then.” He took control of your vibrator as he tilted it closer to your clit “fuck!” You groaned arching your back as you drove your hips closer to the toy.

Trevor watched in awe as pleasure shot through you reached the high “god right there!” You whimpered feeling your thighs shake as they began to clamp together.

He didn’t let it stop as he watched he’d you continue to fuck yourself through your orgasm “please Z enough.” You shook your head trying to pull away from him “you think you have been a good girl?” He asked seeing tears stream down your cheeks from the overstimulation as your cunt burned.

As you stayed quiet the boy finally listened pulling it away from you “holy shit.” Your chest heaved as you pushed your hands through your hair “you still with me pretty girl?” Trevor toyed the toy off as he helped you sit up straight “felt so good.” Your confession was quiet as you stared at the ground.

It made him smile as he ran his fingers under your chin “c’mere doll.” He muttered as he cupped your cheeks pulling you closer to him “think it’s about time I get to taste you.” Trevor dropped his head to kiss you.

The kiss was needy as his tongue grazed across your lower lip “mhm.” The hockey player let out a grunt as you straddled his lap given yourself the upper hand.

You propped yourself up by your knees as the taste of his kiss had remnant’s of the Gatorade you assumed he drank after practice “fuck baby.” Trevor let out a grunt as he watched you grind your hips into his.

He let his hands travel down to your hips trying to stop you “I’m gonna need you to behave before I come in my fucking pants.” He warned shaking his head as he looked down to the new wet patch that was forming on his pants “you’re no fun.” You let your lips form a pout as you kissed him once more before you slid onto the floor letting your knees rest on the cool wooden floor.

The boy swore he was dreaming as he watched you sit there “think it’s time I make you feel so good.” You cooed sending him a smile as you ran your hands up his sweatpants “fuck please baby.” He begged propping himself up as he placed his hands behind him.

You tugged at his sweatpants pulling them down with his boxers. His cock sprung out as it hit his torso “you look so pretty.” You mumbled licking your lips as you felt your mouth water “it’s all for you doll.” He confessed biting at the inside of his cheek when your hand wrapped around his cock.

You pumped them up and down a few times before you watched his precum ooze out of the swollen head “fuck don’t tease me.” Trevor groaned watching your head drop to the point where you were mere millimetres away from him “ask me nicely.” You let out a dry laugh looking up at him.

Your hand began to speed up leaving him quiet “not so brave are you know big boy?” You cocked your head as you grazed your thumb over his head picking up the precum leaving Trevor to watch as you brought your hand up to your mouth wrapping your lips around the finger.

Your tongue swirled around it letting out a moan as you could taste the saltiness on your tongue “please.” Trevor found himself jealous of your finger and he couldn’t believe that he was willing to admit that too “since you asked so nicely.” You nodded smiling to yourself as you slipped your thumb from your lips watching the trail of spit break from your mouth.

The hockey player didn’t need to say anything more as you wrapped your lips around his cock “fuck you’re perfect.” Trevor let out a grunt as his hands went to your hair.

You hollowed your cheeks out as your nose hit his pelvic bone trying to take as much of him as you could. The boy watched you look up at him through hooded eyes “keep sucking that cock f’me.” He mumbled as you fell into this steady rhythm.

He was in awe as the sound of you gagging echoed in his ears as you tried to take more of him each time you let your mouth take more of him as you tilted your head trying to open your throat. Trevor swore it was pure heaven as he began to bring his hips up to meet your face trying to get himself closer to that high.

Last nights efforts felt like a distant thought as Trevor had spent it picturing that you were instead around his cock, rather than his own hand “I’m gonna.” The hockey player let out a grunt as your hand replaced your mouth once more “go make a mess for me Z.” You cooed kissing his lips again.

The taste was addictive as he tried to stop himself “just want to make you feel so good.” You mumbled locking your eyes with his as he nodded “want to taste you before you fuck me so good.” Was the last thing that left your lips before you dropped your head again.

Your pace was brutal practically sucking his cock like it was a lollipop “Jesus y/n.” Trevor grunted as his head fell back when he came letting his release coat the back of your throat “you’re a fucking god.” He mumbled blissfully unaware as you let his limp cock fall from your lips.

You felt some of his release ooze from the side of your mouth “taste so good.” You mumbled bringing your hand to pot it back into your mouth. He swore that if he wasn’t still coming down from his first orgasm he would have come again.

Trevor cleared his throat when you crawled back into his lap “wanna be a good girl and swallow f’me?” He asked as he cocked his head letting his hand wrap around your throat when you nodded.

His hand caught the feeling of the release going down your throat “fuck you’re a pretty girl.” He muttered running his finger over your lower lip “I need you Z.” You pleaded letting out a whimper as you felt his cock beneath you.

As you clenched your cunt the sensation made you both squirm “what do you want baby?” He asked cocking his head as he began to grind your hips against his.

It made you hiss “your cock.” You got straight to the point as you felt your eyes flutter “ask nicely.” He taunted reminding you of the antics you played earlier on.

You swallowed back a moan “I wanna feel so full of your cock.” You whined biting at your lower lip “want you to fuck me like you mean it.” You pleaded letting a shaken breath leave your lips.

That was all he needed as he picked you up “Trevor!” You squealed wrapping your arms around his neck “just want to fuck you properly doll.” He explained with a smile laying you down on your sheet.

He pulled his top off of his torso before he was left with the sight of you already naked as you stripped out of your vest “think you already knew you were gonna get fucked real good tonight.” Trevor smirked kicking his sweatpants off as he found himself crawling to get closer to you “gonna let me fuck you raw?” The question came more so because he didn’t have any condoms on hand or in his room and he knew he wasn’t going to risk going to the store to get more, letting this opportunity slip past him.

You nodded running your fingers over your breasts “wanted you.” You whined making the boy smirk as pumped his cock ensuring that it was hard again “and now my pretty little girl is gonna get me all that easy huh?” The boy let out a grunt before he situated himself back between your legs “if you won’t Z I am sure that the little toy down there could do me just fine.” You snapped as your eyes pulled into a sharp line.

It made him laugh how he could get under your skin so fast even as your nipples peaked due to the cool air that the fan in your room created “no need to get all angry on me now doll.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he ran his cock over your clit resulting in a whimper leaving your lips.

He repeated the action twice more watching as his tongue darted out of his lips from pure concentration “just fu-ck god!” You practically jumped out of your skin as you felt him thrust his cock into your cunt letting his hips meet yours as he gave you no time to adjust.

The boy smirked letting his head come closer to yours as he halted his movements taking in the sight properly “it’s just me.” He smirked running his fingers up your torso letting his hands cup your breasts ‘fuck off.” You grumbled as his head dipped to your shoulder.

His lips nipped at your tender skin “now that is no way to talk to me when you’re currently full of my dick.” The boy sucked at his teeth as he shook his head enjoying how he could hear just how much his actions left you stagnating your breath “please move.” You pleaded feeling your cunt throb as your walls hugged his cock.

It made him smile as he let his arms go on either side of you trapping you where you were “fuck baby.” He moaned driving his hips away before he pushed them back towards you setting up a painfully slow rhythm, like he wanted to torture you.

Your hands found themselves on either side of his cheeks “and here I was thinking that this mouth was good.” His chain lay flat against your neck as his forehead rested against yours “bout to get me stuck on this cunt.” The possessiveness in his voice made your cunt clench around him as your legs wrapped around his waist resulting in him reaching a deeper part of your core.

His lips grazed yours in a lousy effort to muffle his moan ‘but maybe you would like that?” When you didn’t answer his question immediately he began to increase his pace treating you like you were all of a sudden the last girl he was going to sleep with on this planet “want to be here forever.” You cried out as your breasts began to jolt against his skin with each thrust.

The desperation to come all over again hit you both as if this wouldn’t have been your second orgasms of the night “wanna make you never leave this apartment.” Trevor confessed letting his teeth tug at your lower lip making you whine in pleasure “just fucking make me cum first.” You grumbled letting your mouth form an o shape as he hit your thigh with a soft slap.

Trevor shook his head growing irritated at this new found attitude of yours as he was trying too give you everything that you should have wanted “you want to be a brat and I’ll leave you without that fucking toy.” He warned honestly in half the mind to break it as you clearly weren’t going to need it whilst you were still with him.

His pelvic area grazed your clit making your eyes flutter as you drove your hips up desperate to feel that all over again “thought you liked this cunt too much?” You quipped back through gritted teeth trying your best to ignore how your legs began to shake “didn’t say I needed you to cum first though doll.” The warning was in genuine as you both knew he was going to make sure he fucked you through your own orgasm before he even thought about his own.

The sound of skin slapping was enough for you to break “please let me cum and I’ll let you fuck me whenever you want.” If the boy wasn’t currently the closest thing he has felt to pussy drunk he might have actually laughed at the offer “even on the boat?” In a drunk game of confessing things to the boy, you had let it slip that you had some fantasies about a guy fucking you on the family boat if you two took it for a night cruise. But of course it would only be someone who you liked enough to meet your brothers.

You nodded feeling his hand slide between your two sweaty bodies “anywhere you want.” You mumbled writhing your back against the sheet when his fingers came into contact with your clit “you like that don’t ya pretty girl?” Trevor teased feeling your cunt clench around him once more.

A whimper left your lips as he arched his back allowing his lips to latch onto your left nipple with his tongue swirling around the sensitive bead “please let me cum Z.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as he nodded “go make a mess on my cock.” His order came as he moved his attention to your other breast topping you over the edge when he locked his eyes with you.

It made you screw your eyes so tight that you swore you could see stars “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted writhing your body against your sheet and him as he continued his actions of rubbing his fingers against your clit until your cunt began to clamp down on him in these random bursts trying to milk his cock.

As much as he enjoyed getting to fuck you raw he didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences as he pulled his cock out of your cunt letting his release spray across your lower stomach when his hand began to pump at his cock “god.” He let out a grunt watching the damage he had done like it was an art piece.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes as you smiled “it’s just me.” You mumbled making him laugh as he ran his fingers through your hair to push it out of your face “think I should get you in the shower before we get some dinner.” The smell of the chicken came back to you as you heard the smoke alarm go off “The chicken!”

#trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #amber writes fics #ambers 1000 celly

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doromoni · 18 days

Text

Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 1 . Part 3 : Beaten Black and Red Bull Blue

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warnings : Morally Grey Characters

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious.

< Previous Act 2. >

Never in your days in Formula 1 would you even consider leaving everything behind and disappearing from it all. But staring at you was your resignation letter, fully written out and waiting to be sent.

Everything felt torturous. Your mind was eating you alive, it felt like your entire body was pushing you to cut every tie with the motorsport world. You felt sick to your stomach and bile was pushing out your throat. You just wanted to disappear.

It was the year 2021. No one had predicted the sudden rise of Red Bull in the form of Max Verstappen. The Mercedes dominance was now on the brink of dethronement.

Toto’s promise of an 8th championship to Lewis was under the threat of insolvency. The entirety of Mercedes is at its wit's end, with so many questions and no answers to give.

Nothing was solved, and people are now starting to point fingers at who’s at fault. Blame was being passed around from all parts of the motorhome. No one could accept that there was a driver that could challenge Lewis Hamilton and it was time for an actual battle on the track, except you — and because of this, just because you acknowledge the talent of Max Verstappen, you were branded a traitor. Suddenly, they finally had someone to blame. Y/N L/N, the Red Bull ally.

Your time at Mercedes had brought you hell and back. Every race week was as horrible as the previous one. When Lewis won a race it was a team effort, but when he lost, it was entirely your fault as an engineer. Your every action in every hallway felt like you were walking on eggshells.

The stress and tension had muddled every part of your life. However, you pushed through and took every hit, all because you wanted that 8th championship. Because it was all for the man that you gave your heart to, Lewis Hamilton. You are willing to give up everything for the sake of him.

No one saw that you were slowly dying inside, not even Lewis. It had been a while since the two of you had properly spoken, ironically you see each other every day. Yet everything revolved around racing and the championship, even on off weeks, Lewis was either training or out of the house for events he couldn’t bring you to.

Your shared apartment felt empty and icy. But everything felt alright when at the end of the day Lewis pulls you close, his arms tight against your stomach and you drift to sleep. And yet you wake up in an empty bed. It was a vicious cycle and one you cannot seem to let go of. All because you love him, even now, even when it hurts.

Yet, hurt and all emotions are set aside when your headphones go on and the roar of the engine goes off. You were still a race engineer and a damn good one at that. No matter what everyone said , they cannot argue that you were the best there was.

In all circumstances, when the lights go off, the goal is to win and win at all costs — but you were no monster. You didn’t want Silverstone 2021.

“Ok, Lewis. Radio check”

“ Loud and clear”

You feel the air change around you, the thick tension of eagerness seeped out in every corner of your side of the garage. The crew wanted to win, BADLY — the Mercedes side of the paddock was filled with desperation.

Red Bull had been winning for 5 straight races, and Verstappen owned 4 of them. Everyone from your garage was desperate for p1.

“I know that you want this win, Lew. Just keep your head low and focus on the goal” You suddenly felt the need to remind the British driver.

“ I know, Y/N” Lewis bit back. You didn’t like the tone of how he said your name. But you pushed that aside as you felt the hostility behind his voice.

“Lewis, don’t do anything rash please” you murmured hoping to peace with the British champion. Lewis had nothing else to say, and in all honesty, you were more than worried.

There was a growing pit in your stomach as if you knew something was about to happen.

And as Crofty announced the start of the race, there at lap 1, Max Verstappen had faced a horrendous crash. And it was caused by your driver. At 51Gs , Max Verstappen had hit the wall. The crash was caused by Lewis.

“He just turned on me,” Lewis said. Bull fucking Shit. You knew that what Lewis said was not close to the truth and you knew that Lewis did as well.

You were frozen from shock as you looked at the degree of Max’s crash. You didn’t realize that you were holding your breath till you saw that Max was out of the car. Your heart broke when the audio replay of the initial impact played, Max's voice held copious amounts of pain.

You were not well acquainted with the Dutch driver, but every interaction with him was pleasant and bafflingly soothing, considering that you were in opposing teams and his short temper. And you did keep your distance to respect your employers, even if you did enjoy talking with Max .Nevertheless, even when he is the “enemy” he didn’t deserve to be hurt.

Lewis had won the race and you refused to go on the podium and celebrate with the team. Even with your already dubious morals , you cannot swallow celebrating someone’s pain.

When you refused to go on the podium celebration, your boss threatened your job and stability with the team. So you did, and you watched your boyfriend celebrate without a care in the world.

Then at the sight of champagne being sprayed , everything came crashing down and an epiphany washed over you like scalding hot water.

The person you were looking at was not the same person that you once loved. It was as if you were looking at a stranger. He was not the same Lewis Hamilton that you have your heart to. No, this was just the 7 time World Champion from Mercedes.

At that realization, your whole body became numb. You started to walk away even before the end of the ceremony, people from your garage calling out your name.

You cannot find yourself to care as you beelined towards the circuit’s hospital wing. And there you found Max still groaning in pain.

You slowly went towards the Red Bull driver’s bed. Max opened his eyes to the soft noises of your shoes.

As he made up your form, his eyes shone with recognition. You weren’t supposed to be here, not when you were already tagged as a traitor by your team.

“ Hi Max, long time no talk huh? How are you feeling?” You asked with a soft smile, a smile that he mirrored back.

“Well, you never did return my handkerchief, now did you Y/N?”

And there started your friendship with Max Emilian Verstappen.

Before you could even bid goodbye and greet Max with a get well soon, your short visit to the clinic was already widespread in the Mercedes motorhome.

You were then called to Toto’s office. The news of your demotion to assistant race engineer left a thick silence between the two of you.

Every emotion you bottled up had reached the surface and that one last straw toppled the scale.

You took your phone out of your pocket and hit send on the resignation email, you were now certain that you didn’t want any part of this team and anything within it.

With no words, only a smile adorning your face and a finger stuck to the air. You left Mercedes, not once looking back.

“ Hello, Christian? I think I am interested in that meeting after all”

End of Act 1

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @minkyungseokie @d3kstar @kimialaia @mrsmelinda @cosmicwintr @younxii @ssrcsm @paigem00 @seokjinkismet @wcnorris @jayjay11122 @embersparklz @its-elias-world

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

A/N : Y/N baddie era coming in the near future 😮‍💨

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 months

Text

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it.

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster?

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe.

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say.

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

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fruitmins · 11 months

Text

Victory | Namjoon

➭ summary: Namjoon is a wolf hybrid who has a dark past with humans that ultimately landed him in a boxing ring, so he tries his very hardest to hate every single one of them. Even his mate, who happens to be a human nurse who works for the boxing ring. But everything changes when he finds you bleeding out with marks all around you..

➭genre: hybrid x reader, drabble, angst, mate au

➭warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of killing, he gets protective real quick, hybrid abuse, a couple had words, the ending…

➭note: finals week Tuesday. i hate everything

“You’re winner, by knockout. RM!” Muffled cheers filled his stiff bloody wolf ears as the announcer dramatically swung his arm in the air.

No one cared about the other unconscious hybrid who was in a pool of his own blood on the other side of the cage. RM didn’t either. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have killed someone in the ring. The only thing he cared about was victory. The victory that would land him dinner and a day off.

Despite it being in his stage name, RM wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t always like this. He used to care about other things before he was shoved into the cage. Forced to entertain and damage himself and other for human entertainment.

RM spit out a wad of blood that had gathered in his mouth. He didn’t smile at the cheers, because they weren’t necessarily for him. It was for the people who had won money from bets.

“Alright let’s go.” A nasty shriveled male voice told him over the screams as he was yanked by the air and dragged by two men with vest and face masks to his room.

RM thought they were bold for their harsh movements. He had just beaten a lion hybrid to a plump, surely he could take them out. They should respect him. But the taser had boosted their ego. Tasers did damage, especially after a bloody match. That was the only thing stopping RM from clawing their face off as they shoved him in his small room.

Unlike when he lost, he was put in a room with lights. There was a semi-comfortable bed and old tv. That’s what winners get. A bed, tv and dinner. Losers get a dark black cold space where you sit and are placed on a list till a nurse sees you.

Since this was RM’s fifth win in a row he was placed higher on the list and his nurse came only thirty minutes later.

He could smell you as you came down the hall. Your calm and sweet scent filled his nostrils rather quickly. It always stood out from the other nurses. One of the reasons were that unlike you, other nurses hated treating such a beast like himself. They always smelled nervous and afraid.

Of course another main reason was that your scent was stronger than anyone else’s to him. Simply because you were his mate. There was no other way around it. His wolf had practically screamed it at him the first time you came to treat him. He’d never forget the upset and startled look on your face when he had suddenly jumped away from you with a growl.

You didn’t treat him that day, but he made a promise to never frighten you again. Instead he’d stay still while you treated him, answering your questions about his lungs or feet when you needed him too. It started a habit of you blabbering to him, either about his match or things on your mind. Human Namjoon wouldn’t admit it, but something inside calmed him whenever you spoke. There was a sense of calmness from you that transferred to him whenever you talked for to long.

Which was exactly what you did the minute you entered the room.

“Good evening, Namjoon.” You said with a sweet voice as you peeked your head through the door. Once you saw his familiar muscular build you came in, shutting the door.

He silently bowed to you, something in him telling him to be respectful. Like everyone else you had a taser on you but never used it. For you, it was as if it wasn’t attached to your hip. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t call him RM. You called him his actual name. How you found out he didn’t know.

“Congrats on the win.” You said once your light body hit the edge of the bed. “I heard a bunch of people doubting you. That you could never get up to five wins in a row, especially against a lion hybrid.” Your voice was mocking as you playfully rolled your eyes at whoever you were talking about.

“But I didn’t doubt you..” there was proudness in your tone and your words made him tense. He shouted at his wolf not to dance because of your praise. “You know you could beat the record for most wins in a row. It’s only seven.”

It was always weird how you were so comfortable about the fact that he almost tortured people for a living. So comfortable around him when he had almost killed a man a half hour ago.

He always wondered how you got yourself mixed into the mess. You could have been a doctor with your skills. So why weren’t you?

He tried not to dwell to much on you. Caring for humans almost killed him. He couldn’t make the same mistake, even if you were different.

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten you your dinner yet.” You stated as you treated his knuckles. He didn’t flinch at the alcohol that poured onto his cuts before your wrapped it.

“Anything hurt? Teeth? Lungs? Feet? Legs? Tail?” You asked him routinely as you held up a water bottle. Without asking, Namjoon opened his mouth as you poured the water into his mouth. He stared at you curiously as you filled some water in his mouth before stopping.

He didn’t swallow it, swishing the water around his sore mouth before spitting it into a plastic cup that you were now holding. Water and a bit of blood came back.

“No pain.” He spoke for the first time, his voice coming back rough and deep as you hummed. “That’s a relief.” You whispered and he looked down, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why did you care so much about his condition? Probably because he was making you money no less.

“I’ll cry the day you break a bone.” You huffed and his ears twitched. You had been saying things that hinted you cared about him lately. He didn’t believe you, not for a second. But it still caught him off guard. And somehow, he did not like the thought of your beautiful doe eyes being red from crying. He’d have to be extra careful.

“Why would you cry?” He couldn’t help but ask. You were a nurse for God’s sake. You even treated the people he beat. Why would him breaking a bone be so horrible?

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good with seeing friends or people I know hurt. My dad came home with a broken leg once and I almost threw up.” You answered unfazed by his sudden interest. But this made him more curious. Friend? Were they friends? Maybe he was overreacting.

You talked about your dad sometimes. Not a bunch but more than you talked about your mother, which surprised him since you were so girlish and respectful. Who taught you that if not a mother?

“This’ll hurt.” You state before putting some alcohol on a cut that was on his forehead. It stung a little, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched your concentrated face as you worked your magic. He could admit that you were pretty, but even pretty humans couldn’t be trusted.

“I don’t know why but, I feel more comfortable around you than the other hybrids. Like, warm and fuzzy.. Is that weird?” You suddenly spoke as you planted a small bandaid on the cut.

Namjoon didn’t answer, instead he just looked away shamefully. No, it wasn’t weird. It was because they were mates. They were bonding. Namjoon had let his guard down and bonded with his human mate.

—————————

Two days later, he got his sixth win.

There were louder cheers when he won this match. He could tell people were getting more hype the more he fought. Your words came back to him. The thought of beating the record on everyone’s minds. The bullied rookie no longer stood. People no longer booed when he won. They screamed and blasted confetti. He didn’t know why, but he had become a fan favorite.

But still, you were his biggest fan of them all. You practically came skipping into the room forty minutes after the win. He could smell your excitement down the hall, but something else he could sense in your smell.

Another hybrid. Male. Lion.

His wolf hated it. He hated it. The smell made his nose burn and the thought of some other hybrid being all over his mate made his jaw clench. Especially a Lion.

“Good evening, superstar.” You greeted him with a smile, despite his nasty expression. “Everyone’s talking about you breaking the record. No pressure but I’d be big if you do. Just one more and you’ll tie and that’s already a huge accomplishment.” You we’re quick to ramble this time as you sat at the edge of the bed.

He hesitated to meet you at the edge like usual. He’d go crazy if he smelt more lion. You noticed and frowned as you looked at him with a confused expression.

“You stink.” He answered your wordless question with in a rough and disgusted tone. He could fight through a lot of things (literally) but not this. It was actually starting to make him ill in the chest.

“I took a shower this morning..” you mumbled to yourself taking your confused eyes away from him to look down at your visible skin.

You wore a tight pink shirt and paired it with a medium length white skirt that somehow wasn’t stained. A skinny black belt held it all together that matched the flats you wore. No wonder a lion had scented you. He bit the inside of his injured cheek in rage. Someone had marked you their territory.

“No. Like lion.” He clarified in a deep voice. He couldn’t let you be walking around here with everyone thinking you belonged to someone you didn’t.

“Oh.” You chirped as if suddenly realizing something. You had forgotten hybrids keen sense of smell. “Jay was extra close today..” you uttered. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Extra close his ass. He seemed to be all over you.

“If it bothers you that much…you have permission to scent me.” You suddenly offer in a low voice as he watched blush creep up to your cheeks. He doesn’t know why you offered, or how you even know that’s what he wanted to do. But he doesn’t take a second to think about it.

He scoots himself so his directly behind you while you’re at the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around you and settles his interlocks hands on your stomach. He hesitates before taking in the little of your original smell that he can sense before planting his face on your neck.

He sits there for a while. He can obviously feel how nervous you had become so he takes a while to let you cool down. He lets himself get lost in the warm feeling of holding you like a mate should. He gets lost in the fantasy that maybe things can work. And when he notices that you’ve calmed down too, he begins to nuzzle his face into your neck.

He can sense how shy your getting but he moves slow not going lower than your shoulders until he finally forced himself to move away.

What the fuck was he doing? Snuggling up to some human girl he didn’t even know. Human girls like you abused him every chance they got. Did he forget about the taser locked to your side. How could his wolf betray him like this? How could he put himself in danger? You worked for the boxing ring that abused his kind. As sweet and innocent as you seemed, you couldn’t be that innocent.

He sat there in silence for the rest of the check up in silence. For the first time he didn’t listen to you rambling about the match or your childhood stories.

He was trying to fix the damage he had caused.

—————————

Two days later he got his seventh win in a row.

He knew you would be thrilled and despite everything, he was looking forward to your praise. He knew you would be proud of him, even if he didn’t officially past the record yet.

At one point in the match he started fighting for you rather than his survival. His mind was stuck on you the entire match. Once he felt like he was losing, he thought about how disappointed you would be in him. How much you were rooting for him and wanted him to succeed. How much he needed to see you happy again. That was enough to have him win the match.

And when his opponent had the audacity to land a punch on his stomach… He killed him.

And like any other time. He didn’t care. He cared about the victory. And he would do it again if he had to.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t realized a unfamiliar person had made their way to his room until the person knocked on the door.

His body stiffened.

You never knock on the door. You poked your head through first, but never full on knocked. He always wondered why you don’t. It was almost like you knew that he knew about your presence.

Something snapped in him when he realized your sweet scent was no where to he found. Instead someones terrified scent replaced you and it made him crazy. He knew your schedule. Including you, there were only three nurses. You worked the days he fought, another nurse worked the days he didn’t. And another nurse for the weekends.

You were scheduled today so where were you? He asked himself angrily.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked in a firm and deep voice. Not giving the person any permission to enter.

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t show up today.” The female voice answers in a shaky tone. This doesn’t make him any less angrier or anxious. “I’m subbing till she shows up.”

You were missing. You had disappeared and instead of looking for you they replaced you with some weak idiot. He quickly got worried and protective. Wherever you were you needed to get found now. And he wasn’t counting on humans to find you. With their horrible sense it would take days to find you and he wasn’t willing to go that long without knowing you were okay. Not after he let his wolf bond with you.

Despite it being forbidden to leave the room, and he would most liking be spotted by the hundreds of cameras he quickly decided he had to find you himself. He didn’t care about the victory anymore. He didn’t care about breaking the record. He cared about you.

He stood up from the bed and it was easy for him to swing open the locked door, not even having to use his claws to tar through the lock. The woman’s eyes widen in shock when his tall huff figure was suddenly in front of her.

“Use that taser and your dead by the time the buzzing stops.” He threatens her with a low and assertive tone. He doesn’t give the poor nurse time to reply. He knew he scared her enough and with how shaky her hands were she would probably miss him anyways.

Now, he just had to find you before they found him.

Despite it being one of the biggest illegal hybrid boxing organizations, the building was small. There were three levels, the main level, the security/employee level and the basement. The basement consisted of the loser rooms and mostly plumbing and electrical wires. The security system and employee work stations were the highest level. The main level consisted of the main area and the winner rooms.

And then there was outside.

Somewhere Namjoon and the other prisoners were forbidden. It was impossible to make it outside anyways. The guards that had guns instead of taser, combined with the electric fence made it clear that anyone who tried to escape would be dealt with.

Namjoon had heard many stories about great fighters who died trying to escape. The place made hybrids insane. But the only thing that seemed to make Namjoon insane was the fact that you were missing. He would step outside if you were there.

Namjoon had just gotten done searching most of the first floor when he smells it. Your scent. It’s faint and sour but it’s you. Something in him tells him to follow it.

Now, it’s a race. A race for Namjoon to find you before they capture him. Because he knows that by now they have noticed him frantically searching everywhere for you on the camera. A huge wolf hybrid roaming around was sure to catch eyes.

He follows the scent, desperate to find out what was wrong and it leads him to the basement. This was his least favorite place to be, but he quickly enters anyways.

There’s an open hallway that leads to the loser cage, and to the right leads him to all the plumbing. Despite how horrible it smelt, your scent got stronger.

His ears perk when he can now smell blood in your scent. Pools of blood. Your scent isn’t just sour anymore, he can smell your fear. It was so strong it felt like your scent was calling out to him.

He quickly changes his pace from speed walking, to fill on sprinting down the hallway and to the right. The plumbing room is more like a corner it’s so small, so he quickly sees your bloody figure laid flat on the floor.

His face turns red as his heart thumps and for the first time in years he’s feels like he might die. He can barely breathe and his body becomes shaky.

He quickly runs to you, plopping down on his knees and taking you in his lap. He can see your face now, which is dangerously pale and filled with scars and bruises.

You can barely lift up your eyes to look at him, but when you do a small painful smile makes it’s way to your face. “Joon…” you manage to say in a shaky voice.

“Who did this? I need a name, a species, a smell for fucks sake.” He growls and he doesn’t realize he is in tears till one falls on your face.

“Please, don’t do anything crazy.” You plead when you see the absolute rage and heartbreak expression on his face, his hands wrapping around you tighter as he holds you close.

“I have already,” he states again to your confused face and he swallows a lump in his throat before answering. “I accepted you as my mate.” He reveals with a shaky voice.

Your eyes widen and you slowly lift up your hand to caress his face and wipe his tears. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest. “So tell me, who did this to you so they can hurt as much as they hurt us.” He says again and you open your mouth to reply to him but something behind him quickly steals your attention.

You let out a gasp as your eyes widen and filled with terror. Just as he realizes a bunch of heavy footsteps have made their way into the small space you yell.

“No, wait! Please! He didn’t do it—!“

Before you can explain and anyone can take in your words, three tranquilizer darts are suddenly shot into Namjoon’s back.

His body stills and tenses up before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses into your blood pool.

Your cries are the last thing you both hear before the world turns black and cold.

#bts fanfic #bts ot7 #bts x female reader #bts x reader #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts x you #namjoon imagine #bts hybrid #bts hybrid fic #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #rm x reader

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moumouton4 · 11 months

Note

Idea. strip poker with tobirama, orochimaru, madara, and neji (seperately) but the reader is really damn good at poker. So the guys are sitting there in their underwear and the reader has only removed their shoes and socks. And the boys lose again and the reader (being the cocky asshole they are) says "I told you not to go against me, and look at you now." I just think this would be really goddamn funny, what happens after is completely up to you.

Strip Poker Hc || Naruto characters x reader

Including : Tobirama Senju, Orochimaru, Madara Uchiha and Neji Hyuga

A/n : That was so interesting to write ! Thank you so much for this opportunity 😍 I really hope you'll like it 🔥

Warnings : strip poker, sexual innuendo, spank, hint to oral fem!receiver, slow burn, kinda spicy at the end, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Words count : 1984

Tobirama Senju :

When you offered, he frowned and turned his head so you wouldn't see the blush on his usually cold face, telling you it was a stupid game he didn't need to undress you

Even when you told him that it'd be fun he turned you down

So you did the most logical thing to get his attention: doubting his abilities.

"You're quite right to refuse, I'd have beaten you so far you wouldn't have recovered"

That's it, he'd turned finally his head towards you, a look of challenge in his eyes

"I'll make you swallow your words like snakes"

Mission accomplished, now the real game could begin

The poker game was known to both of you, So the game was off to a flying start

The only thing he hadn't taken into account was that you'd never really played together before, crazy as that may sound

Round after round, and although confident at first, he began to feel disillusioned

You didn't decide to spare him, not when you knew how satisfying it was to see that look of satisfaction fade from his face

You took great pleasure in making him take off his shoes, his socks, his forehead protector ( you argued for 20 minutes about whether it was a piece of clothing ), his t-shirts...

You did lose a couple of rounds, underestimating him at some points, sensing victory was coming, but nothing to make you lose face

Then you won once again, and while he'd already made a fuss about taking off his t-shirt, what was it going to be like for his pants ? "Come on, Tobirama, don't be a sore loser. Take responsibility now"

With a sigh laced with a grunt, he removed his belt and pulled down his pants, trying to control the heat rising in his cheeks

"I think we can call it a game, I'm sure you won't have the balls to go on at the risk of removing the last article" you said, your eyes trailing towards his boxers

He didn't assume he'd been so easily loose that you stopped playing to preserve his dignity

"Unless..." you said your words trailing "you want. But then I can't promise that the game won't end up in our bedroom"

Okay if he wasn't flustered he really is now. You think you've won so much you allow yourself to be cocky too. But now he knew that you were much better at poker than he was

The reaction of his body, however, spoke volumes about his new resolve to lose the game

As you drew closer to him, you realized that his breathing was ragged, a grunt hidden beneath his breath

Before you even had time, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you flush against him. I'm going to show you something I'm second to none at"

"Ah ? What is it ?" you replied still cocky, anticipation lacing your words

"I'm going to make you scream" and with that he took you in his arms, threw you over his shoulder and led you to your room

Finally you'd got what you wanted. What would have been the point of playing poker against him, knowing that you were going to beat him to the punch ?

Orochimaru :

He'd heard about strip poker on his travels. He couldn't wait to come back and try it out with you

It would be a way of showing his superiority through gambling, and of revealing you to his hungry eyes at the same time

He seriously thought he was going to win. And his confidence was only boosted when you asked him in a small voice "You're sure about this ?" carefully faking your ability. He nodded eagerly before repeating in a commanding tone, "Come and sit here pet" "Okay"

You'd let him win the first two rounds to build up his confidence. You only had to take off your shoes and socks. You couldn't wait to see that smirk fade from his face, so you launched your counterattack

Now immersed in your game - he noticed the shift in your behavior - you won sleeve after sleeve, making him jump out of his clothes one by one. And as he wasn't wearing much, he soon found himself almost naked in front of you ( faster than he should have )

At this point he took off his clothes mechanically, but his jaw tightened when he found himself in his boxers in front of you. His eyes widened as you cockily said, "See, I asked you if you were sure"

There you were again, he knew that you were up to something

You continued to taunt him "Look at you now how path-"

But he cut you off suddenly, taking long strides towards you "You'll be sorry you played me" he said, his voice hoarse and dripping with lust

"Stand up" he demanded and you did. Then you followed him back to your room "I'll teach you that a good pet doesn't try to be superior to its master" he couldn't help being proud of you though, but he intended to remind you of your respective places

After he stripped you, he sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned you to lie on his lap, you could feel the effect your moment of cockiness had on him

"You think you're clever. Vey well. We'll see about that" he punctuated his sentence with a firm spank on your ass "Now count and be a good girl"

Madara Uchiha :

When Madara came to you proposing a game of strip poker, it was to prove to you that he was better than you. Uchiha superiority blah blah blah

In fact, he'd been on a roll ever since he'd won an earlier training fight with his Sharingan

He was sure that a simple card game would allow him to repeat another victory

"You sure about this ? I'm warning you, It's best to stick to the win you had before. It won't have the same flavor otherwise" you joked

"Just come and play the damn game with me Y/n" he said, a hint of excitement in his words, he was sure that in no time you'd find yourself naked in front of him

However, he should have been wary, given the great confidence emanating from you as you sat down in front of him, he was still a little baffled

At the end of the 3rd round, when your feet were bare from the two rounds you'd lost, you finally looked Madara in the eye during the game, concentrating less on your cards. You frowned when you saw his Sharingan activated

"Love that's cheating. No Sharingan allowed" your voice made him smirk "If you think it'll make you win. I'm not that close anyway" his pupils returned to their original black

"That's better" you said, the game could finally begin

And it did. Round after round, he had to remove an article of clothing, proof of your superiority over him in this game

The look he gave you was hilarious. He looked as if he'd been betrayed every time he unraveled a little more. Serves him right for underestimating you

His expression fell, however, when he lost yet another round and realized he had to take off his last piece of clothing, which was his boxer

"That's it, the game's over" he said, his voice laced with bad faith, he was disgusted to have lost without realizing it

"I told you to be satisfied with what you had before. Et look at you now" your eyes trailed down his figure "Don't be a sore loser and take responsibility. Take that off"

To your surprise, he smirked and slowly took it off, his eyes still fixed on yours. He moved away from his chair and you stood up institiously as he moved closer to you

Suddenly, he placed both hands on either side of you. Your back hit the table as his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth of his body, his ragged breath on your ear and his arousal pressed against you

"Done. Now what are you going to do about it?" he asked in a husky voice

Your hands wrap around him, pressing him closer against you "I'm going to take my reward"

"Alright. Show me how you slay pretty girl "

And something tells you that the Sharingan in his eye was there to make sure you didn't miss any of the show you both were about to play

Neju Hyuga :

He never wanted to play it with you, maybe out of embarrassment. But one day he overheard you talking to Naruto and Shikamaru about playing strip poker at a party with all your friends, and that's when something clicked in his mind

Suddenly he really wanted to play with you. How could your boyfriend not be the 1st to play strip poker with you well maybe because he's refused countless times

When Neji told you he'd heard you talking about it with your friends, you just wanted to tease him just to hear the hint of jealousy in his voice a little more "Na Neji don't worry about it"

He tried to suppress the jealousy you'd been able to feel for a while now under a calm, confident tone he was used to using "I'm your boyfriend and I think it would be appropriate to do it with you before you do it with our friends"

"I swear you'd better not tempt me. Besides, I know you can't handle defeat"

"Defeat ? What makes you think I'm going to lose ?" he said, feeling his competitiveness flare up in him - ouch, you'd just touched his ego

"Okay fine" you said after pretending to think "But I'm warning you, every time you lose, you have to take off one of your clothes. And no arguing, that's the rule"

At your words he turned red and nodded eagerly his gaze averting between you and the floor "By the way no Byakugan allowed to see through the cards" "Understood"

And he should have known he was in for a hell of a ride when he saw the little smirk on your face, but he couldn't wait to get started and secretly hoped to win a decent number of rounds

But what a disillusion, miraculously - according to him - you were winning

You did loose one or two rounds but it was only because you were drooling over his chest

"Neji you have to take that boxer off that's the game. You wouldn't have said the same thing if the situation was reversed" he blushed intensely bringing his hands at the waist band of his boxer "That's so unfair"

"And yet you're the one who wanted to play with me. You remember what you told me "I'm a hyuga I'm bound to win against you"" you joked mimicking his voice "Guess you won the right to be a naked sore loser. You shouldn't have to mess with me. At least you got to see my feet" you laughed

He chuckled at your joke nonetheless ready to accept his defeat when you raised your hand to stop him " Don't forget it's only a game you don't have to go that far if you don't want to"

He smiled at your understanding but he intended to take responsibility, and Byakugan or not, he could see that you were dying to see him take it off

"No, it's okay, you won, I'll do it" and with that he pulled down his boxer shorts, another shade of pink landing on his cheeks "And what now ?" he asked, his voice full of anticipation

"Well now I might just reward you for playing and maybe have a little taste. What do you say ?"

"I'd be honoured" he finally spoke, his blush gaining the tip of his nose

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🌮🧀 Again my requests are open 🍩🍰

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

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vinvantae · 10 months

Text

Unmasked

Part 11/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 4.1k

warnings - minor injury. lots of social media posts. chapter starts off in first person!!

***

It’s a comfortably warm morning in Monaco, the café I’ve been asked to go to is quaint - tucked away in a narrow street off of the beaten path but you get a perfect view of anyone coming towards you. A waiting game to see which of the people who cross my path is going to be her. I can’t help but study every woman who steps onto the cobblestones, but as soon as I see none other than Charles Leclerc come around the corner, hand in hand with a woman - it all clicks into place.

Y/n y/l/n is Thirty.

Both of them greet me with a smile and a warm handshake as they step inside the cafe - bringing a cool breeze in as they open the door. Charles looks smart in a linen shirt, chain around his neck, and a watch more expensive than a regular person’s annual salary on his wrist. And y/n looks effortlessly beautiful in a sundress to complement the warm weather, before I can start digging into her being Thirty I have to ask about her perfume - her signature smell is to die for. She laughs, pulling out a travel size from her purse to offer it to me, swearing she has a full size at home.

As you can imagine, I have a lot of questions. But let’s just start at the beginning, how did the whole Faceless driver idea come about?

Y/n leans back in her seat a little, Charles’ tanned arm is draped lazily across the back and he uses his hand to squeeze her shoulder.

Ferrari were really interested in having me as part of the team but it was risky y’know? A woman, let alone an 18 year old woman in one of the top teams was unheard of.

She pauses as the waiter takes our order, Charles ordering for us all in Italian - I can’t help but notice the way y/n studies him, a soft sparkle in her eye. Their relationship seems easy and when she turns her attention back to me, she seems a little more sure of herself.

I was part of the Ferrari academy since I joined GP3, but that and then F2 just never felt truly challenging to me and I craved more. F1 was where I belonged, it was just about getting there. I believe it was Maurizio Arrivabene who ended up suggesting keeping my identity a secret. The press from that alone brought in more sponsors than the team had ever seen and as you know, Ferrari has never had much difficulty with that.

Her answers are rehearsed, not in a media trained way, but in a way of a woman who has had to keep her identity a secret for her whole career and is finally getting to speak the truth. I understand why she would want Charles here, her teammate and boyfriend is a calming presence - keeping quiet as he knows she deserves the spotlight after all these years.

You never won a championship in F2, how did you convince them that you were good enough for F1?

She takes a sip of her drink, taking a deep breath before softly shrugging her shoulders as if she’s not entirely sure herself.

I spent a lot of time in simulators and they could see what I could do on track from the races in F2 and GP3 that I did win. I like to think it was never a question of if I was talented enough for F1, not to be cocky, but I knew I was - it was whether or not it was worth risking me in Ferrari or if maybe I should start in a sister team. But in the end, it was for the best. I won them two championships after all, so I’d like to think that it was worth it.

Speaking of championships, not only are you the only woman to win the WDC but also the youngest overall, how did you feel?

A fond smile tugs at her lips and she reaches into her bag to pull out a small stack of photos. She slides one across the table to me - it’s of her in her driver’s room, helmet off but still in her full kit with her arms wrapped around the trophy that won her the title. I asked her who took it and she told me it was ‘Seb’ - Sebastian Vettel.

I was so overwhelmed. Everything I had ever dreamed of had come true but I couldn’t share it with anyone outside of Team Thirty and, of course, Seb. He brought a bottle of champagne up to my room and we drank the whole thing. It was one of the best days of my life, wouldn’t change it. If being faceless was what gave me the opportunity to accomplish my dream? Then I’m grateful for it.

And then you won your second in 2018, how was that?

Even better than the first time. Lewis and I had such an intense rivalry for those couple of years that it was such a strong feeling of victory. We raced so well against each other and really brought out the best in each other, I think. I’m not sure if he feels the same but I’m glad that we got to share that experience.

The couple both offer me another drink in unison when they notice I’ve finished mine, sharing a soft laugh when they realise. Charles leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before taking our empty cups up to the counter to get us some more coffees. The two seemed so in sync as teammates, it’s no surprise that they work well as a couple too.

How was the transition when Charles joined the team? You’d been teammates with Sebastian for your entire career up until that point.

Honestly? It was a little scary at first. Seb was a mentor for me and when I had to meet Charles properly for the first time I was worried about how he would react. But, he’s been nothing but good to me. Before we started dating he’d always sneak into my driver’s room to keep me company and made sure that no matter how my race went - I had someone to talk to about it. He’s become my rock and I’m so lucky to have him.

He pushes me to be better, but has never let me be anything but myself.

When Charles returns to the table with a tray with fresh cups of coffee, he hands them out to us before sitting down - shuffling his chair closer to y/n so he can fully drape his arm across her shoulders. She relaxes in his hold, looking away from me for a moment to thank him for the drinks.

I know we’re interviewing y/n, but Charles, what was it like having to keep formula one’s biggest secret?

Difficult. He frowns a little. The amount of times I wanted to properly congratulate y/n or correct people when they said he was insane. I know I may get in trouble for this but I think keeping her hidden for so long was a mistake. Other women and girls should’ve been able to know that one of them was a formula 1 racer and a champion. She’s one of the greatest of our generation and she should’ve been celebrated properly.

I can see she’s touched by Charles’ words, despite - I’m sure - he’s said them to her before. This article is about learning about Thirty, yes, but I don’t think I can truly do that justice without talking about how the pair of them interact. I’m not sure whether it’s the years they’ve been teammates or the time they’ve been a couple but they just complement each other so easily.

So, you were teammates through 2020 and 2021, how did this relationship happen and why now?

The two of them share a look, one - as a journalist - I’m familiar with; whilst they do truly seem to care for each other, I have a suspicion there’s something they can’t tell me. But I don’t press.

I think during 2020 we were still just strangers, getting to know each other as people and as teammates. We didn’t spend a whole lot of time together outside of Team Thirty meetings or on the track y’know? And then 2021 I was in that title fight right up to the end so it just didn’t seem like the right time as I couldn’t really give him the attention he deserved.

We did begin to really become friends during 2021, he would make the extra effort to see me outside of meetings. And whilst Charles has since told me that he’s had these feelings for a long time, it took me a little longer. We’re definitely a case of he fell first, but I fell harder. I’m so smitten with this boy, you have no idea.

Charles was watching her as she spoke, the undeniable pink tinge of his cheeks was hard to miss. No matter what they were keeping to themselves, it was clear the two of them were very happy together. But it was time for more questions about the Thirty of it all.

So, why now? You’ve been faceless for nearly 6 years, what changed?

Well, after it leaked that I was a woman and I won the race in Imola - Team Thirty and I had a very big meeting about it. I’ve been ready to face the world for a while but with the team determined for another championship win this year, it was originally put on the back burner. But, I knew it was time. This year I could win my 3rd title and I wanted to do it with my face, my name not just a number.

I’ve also had so much support from both Charles and Sebastian with this. They helped me figure out just what to say to the team to convince them that now is the right time. I don’t know how long I’ve got left in this sport but I want to be here as y/n for at least some of it.

She excuses herself from the table to go to the restroom, that same fragrance from before following her as she walks past me. Charles sips at his coffee before leaning forward a little as if he’s got something juicy to share. I can’t help but be intrigued, leaning in also to listen.

She’s gonna do it, you know. The WDC is hers this year.

What about you? I ask. Shocked that he’d admit it about his teammate, he’s the Tifosi’s golden boy and is ahead of her in terms of points. He simply smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

I think now she’s got this out in the open, there’s truly nothing holding her back. She’s going to be unstoppable behind the wheel- this weight of her secret won’t weigh her down anymore. Yes, I want to be world champion, and you bet I’m going to fight for it until the very end… but I would be lying if I didn’t think she deserved it.

He straightens up in his seat as she returns, smiling as she leans down to kiss him before taking her seat - asking if she missed anything important. I know she’ll read what Charles said when the article is released but for now I keep it to myself, simply shaking my head.

Okay, let’s mix it up, get to know y/n a little more. What is your favourite track and why?

I think Bahrain is always going to hold a special place in my heart, I got my first win there. But, if I had to choose an all time favourite…I think it has to be a tie between Imola and Monza. Being surrounded by the Tifosi in such hoards really makes you want to do your best. Seeing oceans of red as you drive around is inspiring knowing all these people are in your corner. Now, I know in recent years, they’ve taken a particular liking to a certain Monaco native but they always showed me nothing but support and I hope they continue to do so now they know who I am.

Speaking of the Tifosi, do you have anything you want to say to them?

I mostly want to thank them for being my biggest supporters despite not knowing who was beneath the helmet. Thank you a million over Tifosi, I love you guys more than you’ll ever know.

Who was your racing hero growing up?

Oh there’s so many drivers out there I love but Susie Wolff for sure - she’s such an inspiration to women everywhere. And I know it’s probably silly but Lella Lombardi too, I know she only got half a point in her career but she made it into formula one when everything was against her and other women. But as a kid, it had to be Michael Schumacher. I met him a couple of times and he was nothing but kind to me. He was always honest with me that it was going to be tougher being a girl but he always believed in me and that… that was everything.

We’ve also heard through the grapevine that you’ve been approached by several other teams for next season, anything we should know there?

She smiles softly before shaking her head. Ferrari have actually matched the best offer I received, but at the end of the day they’re the team I want to race with so we’ve extended my contract for at least one more season - hopefully more. Besides, I’ve got the best teammate a girl could ask for.

Charles chuckled softly. Back at you, mon amour.

I think that’s all I really have to ask for now, thank you both so much for meeting with me. I’m not sure what I expected but you exceeded my expectations.

Oh wow, thank you so much. Thank you for being so kind… If I ever need to do another interview, you’ll be the first person I call. That’s for sure.

So there you have it, y/n y/ln is our mystery driver. I don’t know about you but I cannot wait to see what she does now that she’s been unmasked. This season has just got very interesting.

***

You weren’t a fool, you knew there was going to be a little push-back to your reveal - but there was a very loud minority who made it abundantly clear just how much they hated you, that they just didn’t believe you could possibly be the driver they had been supporting all these years. Within an hour of GQ releasing the article, #NotMyThirty was trending within the F1 community. They’d called you every insult under the sun and it was hard to focus on the praise when they were so loud and the press focused so much on the criticism. It didn’t help that once you’d been revealed, a certain Redbull team principal decided you weren’t worth the offer they made and he very publicly retracted it.

“Y/n, cherie.” You felt the mattress sink next to you as Charles sat beside you on the bed - the duvet pulled over your head. “We need to go soon, have a plane to catch.”

“...why don’t they just get Jenson to do it. Or better yet, get Michael up and on his feet so he can get in the car when I couldn’t possibly be a two time world champion.” You grumbled. “I’m just a stupid paddock-bunny.”

Charles frowned softly. “Hey. Those idiots have no idea what they’re talking about. You’re one of the greatest talents of our generation, they’re just jealous fools who couldn’t get into the sport if they tried.”

The Monegasque smiled softly as you peeked over the top of the duvet. It was hard for you to believe him but you knew he was going to sit there until he got you out of bed - so you put on your best fake smile. “You always know just what to say, huh?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling a gentle hum from you. “Mhmm hmm, I’ve got a talent for it. Now seriously, get your beautiful butt out of bed… we’ve got a flight to catch.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when you arrived in Miami, Charles’ hand wrapped around yours as you both stepped into the paddock. The cameras and press were on you in a literal flash, you simply smiled and waved a little. “Hey, y/n, look.”

When you followed the direction of Charles’ finger, your heart skipped a beat when you saw fans at the barrier with signs for you. The loud minority who despised you were currently nowhere to be seen - people shouting and cheering. Your boyfriend was positively beaming as he tugged you over to them, you couldn’t believe people actually wanted your autograph and pictures with you.

You could feel tears prickling in your eyes when a young girl told you just how much it meant to her that she had a female idol in the sport. It was hard not wrap your arms around her and never let go so instead you took a photo with her. “I got you a present… made it as soon as I found out you were a girl like me, it’s a bit messy ‘cus I didn’t have a lot of time.”

As you held your hand out, she slipped a bracelet around your wrist - it was made out of chunky plastic beads; flowers, fake pearls and the word Thirty written out in pink. It was the girliest thing you had ever seen but you could tell just how much it meant to the girl - her little eyes sparkling as she waited for your response.

“I love it! Thank you so much!” You grinned. “Hey, I’ve got something for you as well.”

You took your cap off of your head and scribbled your signature on the brim before sitting it atop her head. “Think this suits you much better.”

Your heart felt full as she turned to her Dad and bounced with glee, showing off her brand new present. You smiled softly and as you turned to Charles, you were suddenly hit with a sharp pain in the side of the head, right by your eyebrow - making you wince and reach up, eyes widening when you pulled your hand back and you saw blood on your fingers. You only just saw a glimpse of security dragging a man shouting expletives away from the crowd. “Oh my god, y/n, are you okay?”

“Yeah uh… what..” You blinked a few times, feeling a little dizzy, eyes scanning the floor to see what he’d hit you with - eyes landing on a crumpled up can, as you pushed your toe against it, you could feel there was still some liquid in it. “I… I uh…I think I should probably go to the medical centre, just to be safe.”

“Of course, shit, yeah.” Charles looped an arm around your waist and helped you through the paddock. Before you left, you caught the eyes of the young girl again and the look on her face broke you - she looked terrified. She was the walking personification of how you felt in that moment.

You had to fight back the tears as the two of you walked through the paddock - the memory of meeting some of your fans for the first time, tainted forever by that one dickhead in a Redbull cap. You were expecting some hatred, but you weren’t expecting physical violence. As you stepped into the medical centre, you were immediately ushered into a room and patched up.

“I can’t believe he did that, cherie. I’m so sorry… I-I should’ve been paying better attention.”

Your brow furrowed as you got up from the exam table, the medic having left the two of you alone. Charles stood against the wall, head lowered as you crossed the room to join him.

“Hey, hey.” You took his face in your hands. “Don’t you dare, you couldn’t have known he was going to do that… I… I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”

“Y/n-”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, I just… I knew there was going to be some backlash but, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this…”

“Cherie-”

“Can I just be alone for a little while, please? I’ll catch up with you later.”

Your teammate’s eyes flickered across you, you could tell he wanted to protest but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. The lights in the room hummed softly as you sat down in the empty chair beside the exam table, covering your face with your hands and letting out a soft sob.

Being unmasked was what you’ve wanted for as long as you could remember, but you hadn’t taken the time to really think about exactly what that meant. That your face, your name would be out there for everyone to pick apart. You wanted to put on a brave face and go out there, pretend it didn’t bother you but it did.

None of your achievements mattered - all that they cared about is that you were a woman, a fake, the drivers’ personal mattress. And your relationship with Charles was thrown right back in your face, the defending Ferrari was supposed to be doing didn’t seem to be helping at all. Any time the PR team spoke to the press, people always had some sort of comeback - another reason to add to the list of why you didn’t deserve any of it.

You rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shove all of the cruel accusations to the back of your head as you left the medical centre. As you turned towards the Ferrari motorhome, you saw Lewis leant against the wall - foot propped up against the wall as he scrolled on his phone, no one even batting an eye at him. He looked up at the sound of the door closing and gave you a gentle smile, pushing his phone into his pocket. “Hey, I just came to check if you’re okay. I heard what happened.”

“Said it was gonna come up as a bit of a black-eye but I’ll be alright.” You shrugged.

“I’m more worried about how you’re feeling, y/n. I know no one knows what you’re going through right now but I’ve been through similar enough crap to know that it’s not fun being singled out for something you can’t help.” His voice was soft as he stepped closer. “And I know it’s easier said than done but you just gotta try and ignore it.”

“...I don’t know if I can.” Your voice cracked. “Th-They’re attacking insecurities I didn’t even know I had. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, Lewis.”

He looked around the paddock before checking his watch. “We’ve got some time, come with me.”

You lowered your head and followed your fellow driver into the Mercedes motorhome through a back entrance and up to his room - his dark eyes flickering back to you to make sure you were following close behind him. With a hand on the small of your back he ushered you into his room, closing the door behind. “You should probably text Charles, let him know you’re here.”

“Uh yeah… Yeah, good idea.”After texting your boyfriend, you sat beside your rival on the sofa, his arm draped across the back. “They’re going to crucify me if I have any bad races. Any mistake, any slip up… they’re going to drag me to hell and back. I just… I know I should ignore it, I do, but it’s hard to ignore when it’s smacking me in the side of the face.”

“”I know, I get it. I’ve been there… you just need to try and remember you’re not alone. I’ve got your back, so do Charles, Max and Sebastian. Don’t disappear into yourself, okay?” His voice was gentle but firm, but it just felt so quiet compared to the throbbing pain you felt in your temple.

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Thank you… I should get going.”

You were taken a little aback when you were pulled into a hug as you stood, his strong arms would’ve made you feel safe in any other circumstance you were sure - but you just felt so defeated by it all. You gave him a gentle squeeze before heading towards your own garage, Charles throwing you a worried look from his side - still unsure how you’d ended up with Lewis. You simply nodded at him before popping into a side room to get into your racegear, ready to get into the car for the first time without your mask on.

“Hey, how’s the suit fit?” Your trainer approached you, a gentle smile on his face. “Must feel good that it’s finally got your name on it, right?”

“Uh yeah, it fits good.” To the untrained eye, the smile on your face was simply of a distracted person - getting ready to race, but Charles could read you like a book and he just knew something was wrong. Something more than a slight headache and the bruise blossoming around your eye was weighing you down and getting into the car in the mental headspace you were in was trouble waiting to happen.

But before he could cross over to you, try and clear your head just a little bit, he was summoned for first practice - one of his mechanics ushering him over to his car, allowing the driver to get one final glance at you as you pulled your helmet over your head.

All he could do now was hope that you wouldn’t get in your own way - as having a bad weekend would just sink you deeper into the feeling you weren’t good enough. You were a champion for a reason. But the minority who despised you were tearing you down, blocking your view from who you truly were and he hated that.

You took a deep breath from inside the cockpit, trying your best to block out the voices bouncing around your head as your engineer went over the programmes you would be running during the session. You just had to do well this weekend, no, not just well… you had to win. Everything was resting on your shoulders, they expected results now you were unmasked.

And you were terrified of what they’d do if you didn't.

***

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