#damian priest x reader

[kittyykattxoxo]

owns the night

pairing : damian priest x reader

summary : you were only supposed to go out with your friends for a few drinks to celebrate one of them getting engaged, but that quickly turns into a wild night at the club. this leaves your boyfriend, damian, less than pleased and he has to remind you exactly who's in charge.

word count : 2475

content warning : dom! damian, sub! reader, p in v, spanking, overstimulation, oral, fingering, creampie

the loud bass music pulsed through your chest, vibrating through your bones as you leaned back against the bar, downing the remnants of your fourth - no wait, fifth? - drink and let the familiar burn of alcohol hit your throat. your eyes were hazy, the mixture of tequila and whiskey coursing through your veins making everything feel just slightly distant and oh so wonderfully carefree.

your hair was a mess of tousled waves, falling over your shoulders, slightly damp from sweat. your skin was radiating heat from a mixture of the alcohol and all the dancing you’d been doing, the warmth causing your cheeks to flush with a rosy hue. the tiny black mini dress you’d chosen to wear was clinging to your curves, the plunging neckline barely holding your breast in place. with every twist of your hips, the dress momentarily rises a little bit higher, teasingly showing glimpses of skin on your inner thighs. you knew how good you looked and you’d never been shy about showing it off.

the night had started off innocently enough - dinner and cocktails, celebrating your friend ruby’s engagement. somewhere along the way, however, things had devolved into shots and reckless laughter as you all let loose. honestly, if this were just celebrating her engagement, you worried about how wild the bachelorette party was going to be. a part of you felt bad - you’d assured your boyfriend that it wasn’t going to be bad, that you’d just have a drink or two and then make your way home. that idea had been quickly abandoned and was now little more than an afterthought in the back of your mind as you focused on enjoying yourself.

you’d been prepared to go back out to the dance floor when the sound of your phone buzzing against the bar surface drew your attention. it wasn’t the first time that it had rang over the course of the night, but it was the first time you actually acknowledged it, squinting at the screen through your tipsy haze.

Papi

a slow, drunken grin slid across your lips as you picked it up and slid to answer it, completely ignoring all of the warning bells that should have been going off in your head. 

“heyyyyyyy papi” you slurred, dragging the words out like honey. “miss me?”

on the other end, you heard damian draw out a long, slow breath. his voice was low and raspy with barely restrained irritation. 

“where are you, hermosa?” you rolled your eyes with a playful defiance, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder, you began to toy with the rim of your now empty glass. 

“i’m out with the girls, silly!” you slurred. ”don’t you rememberrr? ruby’s engaged! we’re celebrating and having fun, don’t be such a party pooper!” 

over the phone, you heard clearly as he sharply exhaled through his nose - a telltale sign that you were definitely testing his patience. 

“go. home. now.” damian’s voice was dark, each word coming out as more of a warning than anything else.

unfortunately, the alcohol was lowering your inhibitions a little too much and so you merely giggled in reply. “oh, come on papi. i’m just having a little bit of funnnn!” 

before damian could reply, you felt a hand on your wrist and looked up to see your best friend ruby, who was just as drunk as you were. “cmon babeee! let’s dance!” 

her words were slurred and if it weren’t for her pointing over to where the rest of your friends were on the dance floor, you may not have gotten the gist of it. without a second thought you ended the call, letting ruby drag you toward the dance floor and letting your phone fall into your little clutch, all but forgotten. 

so you didn’t notice when damian tried to call you again. or when he texted you several times. and of course you completely forgot that the two of you had shared locations with each other in the early stages of your relationship.

somewhere in the haze of the alcohol and music, your party had made their way up onto the center stage of the club and you moved your body to the music, every so often remembering to pull your tiny black dress down before you gave everyone too much of a show. you were having so much fun, dancing into the night, but that all was interrupted when a large, rough hand wrapped around your wrist and practically yanked you off the stage.

a soft yelp escaped from your lips and your first reaction was to protest in anger, but then you looked up and suddenly your stomach was doing flips. 

because there he was. damian priest.

all six-foot-five of him, his massive frame towering over you. he was dressed in a fitted black shirt that clung to his muscular chest and a pair of dark jeans that hugged powerful thighs, making him near impossible to miss. but the thing you picked up on most was how his dark eyes were molten with barely contained fury, his jaw clenched tightly enough that you swore you could see the muscles tick. 

“papi,” you finally managed to breath out, your lips parted slightly as you looked up at him with surprise and misplaced excitement, the alcohol having you fail to realize just how much trouble you were in.

your friends looked on with a little bit of concern, but in reality they were all too drunk to really protest either as damian scooped you up into his arms with ease and waved them off as he began walking you two out of the club, his long strides swift and purposeful. he was seething, his entire body radiating a possessive dominance, but he was still careful with you.

the cool night air had you almost whining, but he didn’t give you a reaction as you both approached his car. he easily held you with one hand as he used the other to open the door, depositing you in the front seat. you blinked up at him and now that you could see his face again, you finally began sensing the depth of his frustration.

the ride back to your shared apartment was tense and silent. every now and then you would glance over at him through the corner of your eye. his hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles had turned white and his jaw was still tight. his dark eyes were focused on the road, but you could see the storm that was brewing behind them.

instinctively, your thighs squeezed together and a pulsing ache built low in your belly. a part of you, despite your inebriation, knew what was coming when you got home. when you finally reached your apartment, he parked with a sharp jerk and immediately rounded the car. you’d tried to get out on your own, but almost immediately were unsteady on your feet and he reached out to grab your wrist. his grip was firm and possessive but not painful as he led the two of you inside.

almost immediately as the door shut behind the two of you, he had you pressed up against the wall. your breath hitched sharply as your back collided with the cool surface. damian towered over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in. his face was close, his forehead resting against your own. 

“you,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “having been testing my patience tonight, mi reina.”

your stomach clenched at the raw dominance in his tone, but you were still buzzed and feeling reckless. 

“hmm…and what are you going to do about it, papi?” you teased, your words slurred and your tone sickeningly sweet, knowing you were going to continue testing his patience. his eyes darkened, but a wicked glint flashed in them to let you know that he would continue playing this game.

“careful, princesa,” he warned. “you may not like that answer.”

but did you heed his warning? of course not. instead, you brought your hands up to rest on his broad chest, your painted nails lightly dragging over the fabric of his shirt.

“maybe i like trouble, papi.”

his nostrils flared slightly and without another word, one of his hands moved to grab your jaw, forcing you to hold his gaze. you could see everything in his look - the anger, the possessiveness, the lust for you, but on the flip side you knew that he could see everything in your eyes too. could see how badly they betrayed how much you wanted him.

“you think this is a game, princesa?” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous. “i’m about to remind you who you belong to.”

before you could get out another word, he seized your hips and lifted you with ease. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carried you toward your bedroom. as he moved, his lips trailed along your throat, teeth grazing your skin possessively. 

by the time your back hit the mattress, your dress had already bunched up around your hips. damian’s large hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as his dark gaze moved up to your face at the new revelation.

“no panties?” he murmured, his voice dripping with a dark amusement. “que traviesa…”

you smirked, but it melted into a sharp gasp when he suddenly knelt between your thighs, dragging his tongue along your already slick folds in one deliberate stroke. your back arched violently, your fingers already fisting the sheets below you.

“papi!” you gasped breathlessly, thighs trembling, but he didn’t stop. instead, he growled  against her, gripping your thighs with an almost bruising force to keep them spread open as his tongue circled your clit relentlessly. 

“you wanna be a brat, princesa?” he rasped darkly between strokes of his tongue. “fine, lets see how much you can take.”

his tongue flattered, dragging over your sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, devastating precision. he alternated between soft flicks and firm, languid strokes, keeping you on the edge but never quite letting you fall over. 

it was a cruel punishment, but perhaps one you deserved after disobeying him. still, after a several moments of being tortured, your thighs began to tremble, the pleasure building far too quickly. 

“papi, please” you whimpered pathetically, craving the release that he refused to let you have.

but he wasn’t done, not yet.

you were so lost in the pleasurable sensations of his tongue that you didn’t notice when his grip left one of your thighs until suddenly you felt two thick fingers inside of you. damian knew exactly what he was doing, his fingers curling just right to drag against your sweet spot, his tongue never slowing either as it circled and flicked mercilessly against your clit.

the sudden dual stimulation was enough to send you over the edge, your back arching and fingers clawing at the sheets as an orgasm ripped from you with a strangled cry. 

but damian didn’t stop.

his tongue and fingers remained relentlessly, thrusting and swirling as he overstimulated your sensitive core. your body joled with the intensitive, your thighs trembling as your swollen clit throbbed against his tongue.

“p-papi! too much!” you practically sobbed, your voice cracking. 

but damian only growled against you in response, holding you down with one of his large hands with ease.

“too much?” he taunted, his voice filled with a wicked delight. “you can take more, princesa.”

and you did. it didn’t take long, but he dragged you through another orgasm with his mouth, groaning as you came undone beneath him. your legs trembled uncontrollably, your entire body quivering and oversensitive, but damian didn’t stop until you were nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him.

when he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with your arousal and he licked them slowly, watching you with a sort of dark and primal satisfaction.

“look at you,” he murmured as his eyes raked over your trembling form. “so fucking wrecked for me.”

you couldn’t even get a reply out if you wanted to, still completely overstimulated from his mouth. damian still wasn’t done, however. in his mind, you still hadn’t fully learned your lesson - and he wasn’t going to stop until it was drilled into your head. 

his hands reached out to grab your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with ease and pulling your hips up as a near breathless gasp escaped your lips. you felt as his large hand ran over the curve of your exposed ass, suddenly smacking it hard enough to make you cry out. he repeated the action several more times until the burning sensation had you certain that both cheeks were bright red. 

“you’re mine, princesa” he growled roughly against your ear.

your fingers suddenly found themselves clawing at the sheets as he thrust into you, burying his thick length to the hilt inside of you with one punishing stroke. you hadn’t even realized when he’d had the time to take his cock out, but you certainly weren’t in the position to complain. 

his large body engulfed you, his grip on your hips once again bruisingly tight as he started his thrust at a punishing pace, your body still having not recovered from the orgasms he’d forced out before. 

“mine,” he growled into your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin as he pulled you back, forcing you to take every inch of him. he was going to make sure that there was never a doubt in your mind who you belonged to, whose commands you were supposed to follow. 

every thrust, every slap of his hips against yours, sent you closer and closer to the edge, but what really sent you crashing over was when one his fingers found their way between your legs and began to circle at your clit. that was enough to send you spiraling, your third orgasm of the night ripped from your body. 

the sensation proved to be enough for damian too, as with one final thrust you felt him unleash inside of you, his face buried in your neck to cover the guttural groan that escaped from him. for several moments afterwards he remained inside of you, the two of you trying desperately to catch your breath. 

when he finally let you go, you practically collapsed into the bed, completely exhausted. you heard him chuckle and felt as he leaned over you, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before settling in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you close. 

“never forget who you belong to, princesa.” he murmured darkly.

your response was breathless, practically a soft, broken whisper.

“only you, papi.” 

[damiansgoodgirll]

DON’T BREAK MY HEART PART 9 IS LONG!

i thought about breaking it into two pieces but you’ve been waiting for that chapters for months so i’m just gonna give it to you the way it is 👀

[eringobragh420]

➔ Pairing — Damian Priest ♡ f!Reader ♡ Roman Reigns ➔ Summary — Reader has been sleeping with both Damian and Roman Reigns, confident they’re ignorant of one another. After being invited to Damian's hotel room late one night, she discovers he’s not the only one she’s there to entertain. ➔ Word Count — 2.4k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. Oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v/a, anal, double penetration, praise, Daddy kink, name-calling, cum 18+ ➔ Taglist — In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! ➔ Requested By — @bearbutlikeprincessbear. Hope you enjoy! ➔ MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

When she first began sleeping with Roman Reigns, she never expected, had any interest, or even needed to seek out other suitors. Until Damian Priest came along at the club, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor where their bodies moved in synchronicity, their skin perspired, and he whispered the absolute filthiest things in her ear as she was grinding her hips into his. And so while entertaining Roman, she made the easy decision to also see Damian on the side. Nothing wrong with it—none of them were attached and none of them were interested in long-term relationships—so she never foresaw any issues, considering the Tribal Chief was on one brand and the Archer of Infamy was on another, which would give them no reason to ever cross paths. Unfortunately for her, she’d been so blinded by the all the fucking, she’d failed to consider the paid live events.

And so here she was, on her knees and elbows on a generic hotel bed with generic, scratchy hotel blankets under her. Her baby pink blazer and white satin tank top were heaps on the floor, matching mini-skirt bunched around her waist, panties in tatters around her thighs. Damian’s long cock buried itself in her tight cunt every few seconds, the momentum shoving her forward and impaling her throat further on Roman’s spit-covered, thick cock. She gagged, body convulsing, but she purred from the intrusion—on both ends—as her eyes rolled back and her cheeks hollowed.

“Fuck,” Damian wailed, hands vices on her hips. “Every time she gags, her cunt fuckin’ milks my dick.”

“You hear that, baby girl?” Roman rumbled. He was seated in front of her, back against the headboard, legs spread lewdly, a woman receiving the pounding of the century from behind slobbering all over his cock. She tilted her head so she could comfortably look up at him. “He likes it when you gag almost as much as I do.” Both his hands cradled the back of her skull as he pushed her down on his length once more, her entire being again contracting, and suddenly Damian wasn’t inside her anymore and she felt abandoned and empty and a little fucking pissed off. 

“Uh-uh,” the Puerto Rican refused. She pulled off Roman’s dick, however reluctantly, and glanced over her shoulder. Damian had backed up several steps and he had a hand virtually strangling his polished-with-pussy-juices cock. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Roman tenderly cupped her chin between his fingers and turned her face back to him. “You ready?”

She cast her gaze down at Roman’s weeping, rigid cock as he stroked it with a loose fist, and she bucked her hips and clenched her pussy around nothing. Roman’s chuckle was like thunder in the distance, and it did nothing to suppress her agitation or prevent the baby pterodactyls in her stomach from taking flight. She had no idea what awaited her, having never experienced before what was about to happen, but she couldn’t deny how bad she wanted to at least try it … to at least attempt to get both these impressive cocks inside her ass and pussy at the same time. And she couldn’t think of two better men to experience it with. Her blown pupils slowly lifted to meet Roman’s.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good,” Roman replied, before the declaration was even completely out of her mouth. He leaned forward so his fleshy lips grazed hers as he finished, “Because it’s this dick right here that’s goin’ in that ass.” He wiggled his cock for good measure, and it wasn’t very quiet when she gulped.

The men were fluid as they moved about the room, as if they’d practiced, as if maybe they’d done this before. Heading off any thoughts in that particular direction, she smiled as she climbed atop Damian. His grip was once again on her hips, and her hips throbbed and she might’ve winced a time or two when he squeezed, but she knew this pain paled in comparison to the new kind of pain that was in her immediate future. She sank torturously slowly onto his cock, her soaking pussy sucking him in deep much like her throat had with Roman’s dick.

“There she is,” Damian breathed, fingers gliding from her hip, tickling her belly, scraping a nipple barely peeking above the cup of the bra she still curiously wore, ending their journey at the back of her neck. He pulled her lips to his, capturing them, imprisoning them with his expert technique and unmatched ability to be both delicate and voracious simultaneously. A cold trickle slipped down the crack of her ass, her body froze, and she severed the kiss. Damian was quick to cradle her face and focus her attention on him and not the pain and discomfort about to befall her. Maybe you should stop thinking about it that way. Maybe it’s gonna feel amazing. It’s Damian and Roman, after all. “If you don’t wanna do this, we can stop right now,” Damian whispered, the tips of their noses kissing.

She gazed into his smoldering eyes, easily finding comfort and true sincerity, and her hand floated to his cheek. “I wanna do this,” she murmured.

Damian once more claimed her mouth while Roman’s finger circled her puckered hole, and it tickled and it was a little weird, but then it felt … good. Incredibly erotic, and her pussy gushed around Damian’s cock. He pumped in and out of her slowly, occupying her mouth and tongue, and before she knew it, Roman had three fingers buried in her asshole, and she was virtually screaming down Damian’s throat, rocking her hips to ride both his dick and Roman’s digits.

“Oh, your ass is ready for this cock, ain’t it?” Roman teased, easing his fingers out of her so he could slap her ass cheek with his length. “Cute little tattoo,” he uttered, now rubbing the leaking head along her sensitive skin, and she knew exactly where he was spreading his precum. She’d never even imagined a scenario where Roman and Damian randomly met at the hotel bar, shared a few drinks, and then a few stories about the women they were sleeping with only to discover those women had the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot, but here they were. “Let’s find out if it’s true, huh?” That hadn’t been the meaning behind the beautiful red script spelling out the word paradise on her right cheek, but she supposed it did seem appropriate now. She hoped, anyway.

She felt the fleshy head of his cock poke at her entrance and her hand left Damian’s face to instead dig her nails into his chest. She felt blood before she was without warning hauled backward, shoulders slamming into Roman’s sturdy chest, and she cried out as he slipped further into her passage. Roman was a true dominant, in and out of the ring, in and out of the bedroom, so it wasn’t very far fetched for her to expect to be degraded, at least a little, for not immediately being able to take his length, or for whining in pain as he pressed another inch inside her. His tattooed arm came into view, fingers applying surprisingly gentle pressure on her chin until she turned to him.

“You’re takin’ me so good,” he praised. Her eyes lifted, full of renewed hope,  determination, and pride. Compliments in a non-derisive way were few and far between, and she intended to bathe in the accolades for as long as possible. “I know it hurts, baby girl, but you’re a fuckin’ champion. You hear me? Our champion.” Her heart swelled and her fingers unconsciously slid down her body and directly into her dripping folds where she found her clit and, just a little further inward, the base of Damian’s glazed cock, the rest of which was still stuffed deeply inside her cunt. Damian grunted and squirmed, and her smile was drunk as she stared blankly at her Tribal Chief, hypnotized by Roman’s unusual softness. “See, that was nothin’.”

Snapping out of her reverie, she was overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly full. Roman had genuinely mesmerized her with his words, with the bottomless pits that were his eyes, and he’d sheathed himself to the hilt in her ass without her noticing. Now fully aware, however, the burning returned, the splitting, and she whimpered, clawing at Roman’s arm now. Easily noticing her stress, Damian untangled her from the Samoan’s embrace and pulled her back down to him, cradling the back of her head and splaying a hand across her upper back.

“Right here,” he rumbled into her gaping mouth, “stay right here with Papi. You hear me?”

She nodded, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Damian’s soulful ones, and her lips collided with his before she knew it. He was her comfort, her weighted blanket, her favorite teddy bear, and the spell he cast on her through his lingering lips kept her mind occupied as Roman gripped her hips, pulled out, and shoved himself back in as if he were fucking her pussy. It hurt, bordering on agonizing, but Damian’s mouth was so perfect and gifted that it hurt just a little bit less, the three of them going on like this until she’d fully accepted Roman with an amount of pain that was both uncomfortable and pleasurable. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Roman panted. When she gave no answer, he snatched her hair and yanked, her lips releasing Damian’s with a wet smack.

“Yes, Daddy, I love it,” she breathed.

“Yeah, you do,” Roman mumbled. “Show me. Ride these dicks like the whore you are.”

Hands on the bed on either side of Damian, she rose until her elbows locked. Damian’s hands were coarse and callused as they traveled the invisible roads of her upper body, and she smiled down at him as she began gently rocking her hips, drawing the cocks within her ass and pussy as deep inside her as possible before releasing them to the cold air surrounding them, repeating the process until she couldn’t bounce fast enough on them. 

“That’s it,” Damian moaned, “just like that.”

“Shit, all you need is a cock for this mouth, huh?” Roman mocked, giant hand wrapping around her throat. “What you think about that, Priest? Plug up all this bitch’s holes.”

“Fuck,” Damian muttered, pinching and tugging at her nipples.

She screamed, jaw dropping, and Roman’s hand was swift in making the relocation from her neck to her face, long fingers dipping inside her mouth. Her lips automatically closed around his digits and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked because what else is a girl supposed to do when Roman Reigns sticks his fingers in her mouth?

Time went on, doused in a mixture of sweat, screams, desire, and the fundamental need to cum. Roman lost control first, hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her chest into Damian’s, and he leaned forward, most of his weight now on her hips and ass as he fucked into her recklessly. He cried out—she thought he was speaking Samoan, but she couldn’t be sure—releasing himself inside her, and his pumps became slower and less powerful until he pulled out altogether, slapping her tattoo once more with his softening dick.

“Y’all can … take care of that, right?” He had to be referring to the mess he’d just made that would eventually come leaking out of her. “I got somewhere to be.”

The relief alone she felt when only Damian was buried within her nearly sent her head first into an orgasm. It had been a wild moment, an experience she could check off her bucket list, but she’d be lying if she denied feeling a bit stressed at the thought of being responsible for pleasing two men. Of course it was a hot idea, but realistically, the logistics were a bit more muddled than she cared to deal with again. And, though she would never admit this to anyone, especially the two men involved, she preferred Damian and his attentiveness and his kindness and the gentle fucking he was famous for. Roman was the choice when she needed to be used or slapped around. Damian was the choice for everything else.

“We’ll take care of it,” Damian mumbled, and she smiled just as he seized her lips once more. 

She hardly registered the hotel room door opening and closing, Damian flipping their positions smoothly, putting her on her back and settling between her sticky thighs. Her hands glided reverently up his chest, squeezing his shoulders, continuing to his face.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, taking her hands off him one after the other, imprisoning them between his hands and the mattress on either side of her head, his grip secure, though not constricting.

“Yeah,” she purred, rolling her hips in an attempt to find some friction, and Damian grinned at her desperation. 

“But you need your special time with Papi, hmm?”

“I always need my special time with Papi.”

Finally he started fucking her, lazily at first, gradually picking up speed. She suddenly felt Roman’s warm cum begin leaking out of her ass and into a puddle on the bed, Damian’s thrusts now coming with a wet smack every time he slammed into her. She gasped, lips parting, pussy pulsating around Damian’s solid length, breasts bouncing, and she came with a wail she would be embarrassed over later. Her hands were fists as they wanted nothing more than to touch Damian, feel him, run her fingers through his hair, but he refused to release her until after he’d filled yet another one of her holes with sticky cream.

“You’re a mess,” Damian grinned, climbing out of bed. She couldn’t help the satiated smile and stretch as she watched Damian disappear into the bathroom, assuming he was on a mission to retrieve a wet washcloth. They were gonna need more than that, she thought, just as she heard the water in the tub come to life, and her smile nearly broke her mouth. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Damian returned, clapping his hands and holding them out. She rolled her eyes, moving into a sitting position, but Damian suddenly scooped her into his capable arms, tossing her an inch or two in the air to get a better grip. “I don’t think it’s big enough for both of us, but …”

“I guess you’ll just have to wash me from outside the tub then,” she sighed.

Damian kissed her forehead. “My pleasure.”

જ⁀➴°⋆ Papi — Daddy

[harmshake]

Featuring: Jey Uso x Fem Reader x Roman Reigns & Damian Priest Word Count: 4.6k Warnings: 18+, NSFW, angst, smut. I did not expect y'all to give a damn about this random Jhea fic I came up with so thank you! Here's the part 2 y'all requested. Hope y'all enjoy because I got one more part in me. 😈

Happy reading! Read my other Jey and Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

“Unless you want your husband to find out you spread your legs for other men and let them fuck them raw, I suggest you mind your business, you birdbrained bitch.”

That’s all you had to say to her on the line before you heard Rhea start to say something back with a choke or maybe a gasp, but you’d never know. You hit the END CALL button before she could get it out, your ears already ringing with rage from the bullshit she dared to utter in them a moment ago, as well as not her damn man either, Jey, on the other side of your bathroom door, knocking with cautious taps and meager pleas that rhymed with “Sorry” and “Please open the door.”

You’d heard enough of the both of them, the frustration gnawing at your skull turning into a pounding headache, and all you wanted was silence. But Jey kept it going, knocking and twisting at the doorknob, sounding more pathetic by the second as his anger had dissipated into what sounded like regret, an emotion you didn’t think he was capable of after the foul shit he pulled with you. Sorry wasn’t going to cut it, though, because no amount of apologies would ever make it okay that he put you at risk because he couldn’t wrap his dick with Rhea and other women. He had you all the way fucked up.

You already had it in your mind to schedule an appointment with your gyno first thing tomorrow, but the first thing today was to get this idiot out of your home and out of your life for good. “If you aren’t gone when I open this door, I swear to god, Jey…” you shouted through it. You heard the faint sound of him sucking his teeth before another attempt at the doorknob.

“You got my phone. I need that before I go…and I-I need to look you in your face and apologize,” Jey tried again, his usual deep and grunting voice thick and low with what you knew wasn’t remorse for what he did to you but remorse for getting caught. You didn’t need his apology—you needed him to leave.

“I’m not goin’ to warn you again.” You squeezed his phone in your hand like it was a stress-relief ball, the hard edges of it wedging into your palm but you barely felt it because you just felt your frustration seething through your blood and making you hot all over. He sighed like he was frustrated, too, but you didn’t give a fuck. You waited until you heard him shuffling about your bedroom, likely sliding on his Nikes and tucking the rest of his things back into his luggage before you heard his footsteps tread down your hallway. 

A small sigh escaped you, too, as you padded with bare feet from the cool tile of your bathroom to your plush carpet that was free of any traces of him, no longer littered with his clothes, toiletries, and device cords like his phone charger because he was a messy bitch who acted like your home was his, too, when he was here. That’s what you get for letting him get so comfortable, you thought to yourself with a shake of your head, for letting him think he could do as he pleased in your home, in your life. But not anymore.

You made your way to your foyer with tiptoes to peek through the peephole in your front door to make sure he was gone because you didn’t hear his car start. And sure enough, there he was, loitering on your porch with his head hung down and shifting from foot to foot as he stared at them with his eyes all solemn or troubled and it pissed you off. The fuck was acting like he was sad for when moments before he was acting like he didn’t want to be here at all? You swung your door open just enough to pop your head out and glare at him as you were still in just your t-shirt and panties and it was a bright afternoon outside. The sun seemed to glower down on Jey, too, as he used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat forming on his forehead as his head popped up to look at you.

“Listen…I’m sorry, for real—”

“Here’s your phone and go fuck yourself,” you declared and let him have his phone in pieces as you threw it straight to the cement, watching the glass screen instantly scatter around his feet. You didn’t give Jey a chance to react as you shut and deadbolted the door in his face, his rueful facade fading away just as quickly as you let him talk his livid shit to himself when you walked into your kitchen.

But as much as that felt good and slightly waned your own livid frustrations, you knew right away it would only satisfy you for so long. It was only a taste of revenge and that wasn’t enough when Jey had been doing you dirty behind your back for potentially months. Nah, you wanted the entire dish, served hot not cold because you couldn’t wait to be fed. Not when you were this hungry to embarrass his dumb ass for embarrassing you, endangering you. Fuck him. And fuck Rhea. This was far from over.

Jey finally revved off in his car after another minute of shouting into the void as you stood at your kitchen counter with the glass of Merlot between your fingers that you just poured for yourself to dull your headache, poring over your thoughts of the when, what, and how to get his dumb ass where it hurt the most…until you thunk up the who. Your fingertips scrolled along your phone on your counter and through those unread text messages until you found his name from the last time you spoke almost five months ago. You were surprised it had been so long but revisiting the conversation made you remember what a gentleman he was as he let you be and respected your decision not to get entangled with your client.

Although, he wasn’t your client anymore. You put together that sweet sixteen birthday party for his daughter months ago that took weeks to craft with the right decorations, caterers, musicians, and to execute flawlessly. All the while, Roman couldn’t stop singing your praises for being the best event planner he’d ever worked with—and he couldn’t stop asking you out on dates to show his appreciation.

“You won’t grab dinner with me, but you’ll be there tonight, though, right? And you’ll wear somethin’ red for me?” Roman had said to you over the phone on the busiest day of the event coordinating process. You and your team had a hundred and one things to do to ensure his daughter’s birthday went off without a hitch and that included attending the event as staff, not a guest. Your eyes rolled with a smirk but he couldn’t see and you couldn’t see him yet you could hear the handsome grin in his voice because the handsome man it belonged to loved to flirt with you. 

“Ugh, I do not have time for you and your mess. I have to be there, sir. It’s my job.” You giggled and heard his grin evolve into a small laugh, too. “And of course I’m wearin’ red. But only because it’s the theme she chose and not because of you.”

“Well, it’s my favorite color, too…and I know it’s gonna look gorgeous on you.” Roman had a way of making every compliment sound exciting and seductive to you, even if it was something as simple as, “I like how you organized the cake samples by flavor…you’re amazing.” It was the bass in his voice, the genuine adoration for you in the depths of it that tried to make your heart flutter. 

However, you were serious about your “no fooling around with clients” rule and even though you wore a red mermaid gown to catch his eye under the moonlight at the outdoor gala, you still kept the flirting to a minimum…and kept your work tablet close to your chest when you caught his heady, deep brown eyes appreciating you and your cleavage a bit too much. 

“It’s not my fault you’re gorgeous…told you so,” Roman had murmured in your ear with a hardy, sexy chuckle that made you blush and playfully swat at him with your tablet. 

You decided then to put some distance between the two of you lest you lose focus at work, and you made a beeline to the bar that was serving a menu of both cute mocktail creations for the teens and something a little stronger and grittier for the adults. That’s where you met Jey, already at the bar with an elbow on the woodgrain and a vodka Sprite in his hand as he offered to buy you one, too, with an inviting half-smile on his thick lips. You accepted because you needed to take the edge off, the stress of the day to throw the perfect party following you well into the night…and because Jey was easy on the eyes and even easier to talk to. Talked you right into his car, into his home, and out of your panties because you couldn’t get drunk at work, but you could get drunk on his dick after hours as the best stress reliever was those thick, soft lips to your ear groaning and talking you through orgasm after orgasm as he rutted with slow grinding hips that made you delightfully dizzy.

And that was your first mistake.

And it was Jey’s first mistake to confide in you like you were friends, the time you spent together that wasn’t with you on all fours and his hands on your hips as you whimpered his name, it was with your head on his chest and his hand around your waist as y’all talked about everything under the sun. Like how he was secretly jealous of his cousin, “Big Uce” he called him, like how he felt like he was living in the man’s shadow, especially when it came to the progression, or lack thereof, of his career. 

And because you were a good person (or maybe because you were duped faster than you thought into thinking those deep conversations and even deeper sex sessions nurtured intimacy you didn’t recognize until it was too late, until Jey was able to use that intimacy against you and not use condoms almost immediately), you tried to soothe his feelings. Tell him he was a star and that Roman was no threat to him.

Until today.

“Is this Roman?” you asked when the number you dialed picked up. The number was saved but you just wanted to make sure because the last message he’d sent was something personal: If you ever change your mind, hit me up, gorgeous. “I changed my mind.”

His sexy laugh sounded just like you remembered as it floated into your ear and you blushed just like you used to, taking a sip of your wine to disguise your delicate nerves and grin that he thankfully couldn’t detect. But you could detect his handsome grin, the hushed smack of his lips as he licked them. “Oh, really? Thought you forgot all about me. I haven’t forgotten about you, though, gorgeous.”

“Already with the sweet talk?” you teased and he laughed again.

“Ain’t that why you called? You missed hearin’ it, be honest,” Roman stated with a knowing hum. “I’ll be honest, too. I missed hearin’ your voice.”

“How? We didn’t talk on the phone like that, sir. But yeah…I missed talkin’ to you.” The words came out smooth and unjumbled, no matter your jumbled nerves carefully untangling with the wine and Roman’s charm. You surprised yourself, surprised at how easy this revenge tour was getting started…

“Mm, yeah? Wait, though. You still talkin’ to my cousin?”

That next sip of wine tried to bubble up in your throat because you thought Roman wouldn’t recall that fact. Kinda silly on your part because it wasn’t like he didn’t see you leaving the gala with Jey that night, nor was he ignorant as to why you refused to see him even after your services for him concluded. You believed honesty was the best policy, and you knew Roman did, too, so you cleared your throat and told him the truth. Fuck it.

“Nope. I, uh, actually ended things with him today.”

“And you called me the same day?” Roman’s tone was shocked but shockingly calm, amused, even, as he piped up with a short, breathy chuckle. “Ah, damn. What did he do?”

One more sip of wine for courage to say this and say it right. “He played in my face too much. Started sleepin’ with other bitches with no protection and lied to me about it.”

You heard him blow a raspberry before the line went still for a moment. Heavy weight to drop on him out of nowhere, you knew that, you felt a little cringe to share. “That’s fucked up. I’m sorry.” But Roman seemed genuine, like always, and his next words had you feeling less shame and more curious. “I hate to say it, but Jey’s been like that his whole life. Foolish. I woulda warned you but I knew you didn’t wanna hear from me. And I haven’t heard from him in just as long as you for the same reason.”

“What reason is that?” You paced your kitchen and swirled the remnants of your wine in your glass, listening closely. Last you heard about Roman from Jey was that they were in a feud on and off camera because “Big Uce let his damn ‘Tribal Chief’ gimmick go to his head for real and it’s annoyin’ as fuck.” But according to Jey, he still kept it cordial with him because he had to, because he was family.

“’Cause he’s a fool. Unprofessional. Sloppy. Now you see it, too,” Roman muttered and you couldn’t stop the laugh that teetered out of you if you tried because he was absolutely right. It made him laugh, too, before he added, “Enough about him, though. You called ’cause you want me to take you to dinner finally, huh?”

“You got me.” You grinned to yourself as you downed your wine and placed the glass in your sink, your grin growing bigger as Roman told you he'd had in mind for a while a place for you that you’d love and that he’d love to take you to this weekend—and that you better wear his favorite color on you, the bass simmering in his voice almost like a luscious growl in your ear. You bit your lip and agreed…with only one, tiny, extra request. One tiny, extra request that would fuck would Jey up good. “Would it be too much to get me a ticket to Raw this Monday comin’ up? I’m a big fan of Damian Priest. Would love to meet him.”

When Saturday night arrived, you arrived at the bar and grill where Roman arranged dinner reservations as you stood in the waiting lounge that was adorned like a garden, lush ferns and flowers lined the walls with twinkling lights woven through the stems. The soft, orangish glow from those lights warmed up the red of your cocktail dress and warmed up the dark brown of Roman’s eyes, turning them a rich hazel as he cast his sultry gaze on you from across the room. He was still as tall and hulking as ever in his fine, black suit, your face meeting his chest and his arms swallowing you when you greeted and hugged each other. He still smelled good, too, and still made you blush when he didn’t let go but let his lips graze your ear to whisper, “You tired of me callin’ you gorgeous yet? ’Cause you make it hard not to lookin’ like this…”

Truth be told, Roman could call you whatever he liked as long as everything went according to plan. And so far so good as you sat across from him at the booth, sipping whiskey and cutting through steaks as you two caught up, laughed, and flirted. He told you the ticket and backstage pass would be waiting for you when you got to the show on Monday and to just let the attendant know they were comped by him. You flashed your smile and batted your long lashes at him, grateful and surprised anew at the ease of your revenge tour gearing up. The name of it, the revenge tour, only seemed fitting when you watched just enough wrestling to appease Jey and see Rhea get her ass beat at the hands of some little, blonde woman calling her lick back on the goth slut the same thing. Maybe you could take a page from her book…

In the meantime, you flipped through the little dessert booklet on the table when Roman asked what you’d like to have, and as you read the list of yummy, gourmet cheesecakes and tarts, you heard him ask you another question that made you tilt your wide eyes to meet his.

“So. You gon’ tell me why you really wanna meet Damian?” His tone was nonchalant, just like his thick fingers nonchalantly pinching at his black, cloth napkin on the table, but his gaze was focused on you. “From what I remember, you didn’t keep up with wrestling much. Since when are you a ‘big fan’ of his?” You could tell he was searching for the honesty in your eyes and you weren’t going to compromise your plan by making him suspicious. So, again, fuck it.

“He’s a friend of Jey and Rhea’s, right? I have a feeling Jey wouldn’t like it if I got to know him without him bein’ involved.” And by feeling you meant fact because you knew Jey admired the hell out of Damian. Where he and his cousin didn’t see eye to eye, Jey told you that he felt like he had found a new family in Damian and Rhea. And you were hellbent on ripping that family to shreds.

“He’s a friend of Rhea’s. Damian can’t stand Jey.” Roman let out a laugh after he sipped his water. “That’s my boy, you know. I already told him about you wantin’ to meet him next week. It was just the other day he was gettin’ it off his chest how much Jey irks his nerves bein’ too rowdy like a child. Always havin’ to wrangle him in to get shit done. And Damian doesn’t have kids. He just has Jey.” He shook his head as he chuckled again. “He keeps it professional on the clock, of course, but remember how I told you Jey is a sloppy fool? Yeah. I’m not the only one who notices and who doesn't tolerate it.” 

“That’s a damn shame,” you mumbled with a suck of your teeth before your waitress strolled over to take your dessert order. You were thankful you hadn’t seen much of that side of Jey as he was too busy digging in your guts or fast asleep to do much else to irritate you. Yet it did irritate you how for the last three days there was a delivery waiting on your doorstep that was obviously from him. You blocked his number so he couldn’t contact you, but that didn’t stop the small bouquets of tacky-looking flowers like sweet peas and petunias with enveloped cards marked merely with your name and the words, “I’m sorry.” 

All that shit went straight in the trash because you couldn’t flush flowers as effortlessly as his jewelry, and you were sick of him sending that garbage to your home. The gesture was tired and not cute to you, nor was your visit to the doctor earlier in the week. You were perfectly healthy, thank god, but it didn’t lessen your anger. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, that was the saying, and you knew only god could forgive Jey now because you sure as hell would not.

“You know what’s a real shame? That he crossed you. ’Cause you seem like you on some kinda mission now.” Roman stole a tiny bite of your raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake with his fork before he leaned back, chewing slowly and studying you just as slowly, too, with intrigued eyes. The soft, warm lights hanging on the walls likely shone a blush on your cheeks, but the heat that spread on them wasn’t from you being shy—it was from him being too smart for his own good and making you feel that familiar tingle of shame. 

That was until he ran a large hand over his beard, a wolfish grin curling on his full lips when they appeared again before they parted to ask, “So, what’s the mission? And how can I help, gorgeous?”

“What the fuck?” Jey whispered to himself as he knitted his eyebrows together in a wince and held his phone close to his ear to hear the garbled voice note Damian just texted him. The audio on this phone couldn’t be fucked up already because he had just bought it last week. Didn’t even bother getting his old one repaired because you had smashed it to bits and even after he spent ten minutes picking up the shards of glass and plastic where he found them on your porch and in your shrubs, he still didn’t find them all. And he still couldn’t believe that shit, couldn’t believe were you so incensed with him that you did that—hell, you even destroyed his favorite gold watch and chain.

He had never seen you like that, never thought you’d do some shit like that, yet Jey sat next to the reason why as she rested her head on his shoulder in the backseat of the Lyft they shared on the way to their hotel. He knew he was wrong then to keep the depths of his relationship with Rhea a secret from you, and he knew he was wrong now to act like some flowers at your door every day would serve as an apology. But that was only a fraction of what Jey had in mind to make it up to you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Rhea grumbled at his side, coming out of a nap with her arm looped around his and trailing her fingers up his bicep in his t-shirt. It had been a long night preceded by a longer day, their flight a bit rocky with turbulence; their hotel accommodations a bit screwy because his reservation wasn’t found; and their spot on Raw a few hours ago ending in a botch when Damian was supposed to clothesline Chad over the ropes in a mixed tag match with the work being Chad ducking out of the way and the move hitting his partner, Rhea, who would fall into Jey’s arms as he stood by the apron. Yet it was Chad who crashed down into Jey after Damian abruptly called an audible to her. Jey asked him backstage what was that all about because Chad’s big forehead was solid like rock and about busted his top lip when he toppled onto him.

“You weren’t in place, man. I wasn’t gonna send Rhea over and let her fall flat on the mat.” Damian had shrugged at him as he wiped at his damp face with the white towel around his neck before walking off. Jey stood there with a grimace as his right eye threatened to twitch, something he couldn’t help when he was baffled and annoyed like that because he could have swore he was on his mark. 

Long ass day indeed. At least he could look forward to a hot shower and a warm bed with Rhea in it beside him as she let him bunk with her instead of spending money to book another room. She was sweet like that and it almost made him feel guilty to still be sweet on you behind her back. Almost. Because, truthfully, it was none of her business who he dealt with when they weren’t together. Although, he already gave her an earful about talking to you the way she did last week because he didn’t want any more of the bullshit and drama. He was trying to end it, trying to see what else he could do to make you forgive him, and trying to hear what the hell was on this voice note his friend sent.

“Can you hear this? Swear it sounds like cryin’ or some shit.” Jey held his phone to Rhea’s ear when she lifted off his shoulder to listen. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

“It does sorta sound like someone whining but it doesn’t sound like him. Maybe call ’em?” she concluded and went to check her phone, too, when it suddenly vibrated in her backpack on the floor between her legs. “Huh. I just got a voice note from him, too.”

Jey watched her hit play and they leaned in to hear the same distorted, crying sounds blurt from her speaker. Rhea scrambled to turn the volume down lest they alarm their driver who was already doing his best to navigate the winding and traffic-heavy highway to their hotel. Yet the audio was loud enough that towards the end of the thirty-second clip, Jey could finally make out a few words from a clear voice. Your voice. And you weren’t crying. You were fucking moaning.

“I-I can handle it, papi…mmnh.”

The way Jey’s heart stuttered hard in his chest made it hurt and he had to sit up straighter, wriggle away from Rhea, and open the window for some fresh air. He wasn’t claustrophobic, at least he didn’t think he was, but the driver, Rhea, and, hell, even the car seats and doors all felt like they were too close and closing in on him. It made Rhea’s benevolent hand on his knee feel strange and he twitched, his mind twitching, too, and glitching trying to understand why the fuck was your voice on that clip? Because that was you, he’d recognize your voice anywhere. You were with him? How?!

“Oh, my god,” he muttered with his hand slapped to his chest.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Rhea’s tone tried to be comforting in its gentleness but she couldn’t hide her concern that well, especially when both of their phones pinged and vibrated with text messages. Jey couldn’t even look at his phone or else he’d be ill, he left it right on the seat in between him and Rhea and averted his manic eyes to the skyline beyond the window to prayerfully find his breath and settle his stomach. But he hadn’t averted them quick enough because he saw who the notification was from. His cousin who he hadn’t talked to if it wasn’t at work in probably four months. His heart thudded with that painful pang again because what the hell was going on?! “Why is Roman texting me at this hour?”

Rhea’s tone shifted from concern to confusion, then, as he saw her from the corner of his eye peering wildly at her phone screen. And before Jey could utter for her not to open the message, he saw her thumb tap the screen to let another audio play. Audio that sounded out with your voice again—and Roman’s. Audio that made him want to crawl out of this car, out of his skin, as he felt like he was going out of his damn mind.

“Right…there, daddy.”

“He’s ‘papi’ and I’m ‘daddy,’ huh? Hm…this pretty, little pussy belongs to us now, don’t it, sweetheart?”

. . .

Liar, Part 2

Thanks for reading! And big shout out to @dreamsinfocus and @romansthrone for their lovely comments on the last part because y'all gave me ideas that I was happy to include. 😙

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[harleyvaleska19]

Our Terror Twins 🖤⚖️🏹😈🔥

[usomads]

Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!

Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process. 

“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.

“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.

“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away. 

“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”

“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe. 

“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him. 

“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?” 

“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.

“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.

“Sucio…” 

“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.

“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”

“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”

“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.

“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”

“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”

“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.

“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.

“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”

“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”

“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?

“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”

“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-” 

“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you…  only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.

“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.

“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?” 

“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him. 

“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?” 

“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.

“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him. 

“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.

“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.

“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.

“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.

Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.

He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”

“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.

[kodasmind]

United front

Rhea X Reader X Damian

The crowd at Monday Night Raw was electric, the energy pulsating through the arena as fans eagerly awaited the next match. You stood backstage with Rhea Ripley, both of you watching the monitor as Damian Priest made his way to the ring. He was set to face JD McDonagh in what promised to be an intense bout.

"He's got this," Rhea said, her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Of course he does," you replied, sharing her confidence. Damian was a force to be reckoned with, and you knew he wouldn't go down easily.

The match began, and Damian took control early on, his power and agility on full display. However, as the fight progressed, JD managed to turn the tide, using his speed and technical skills to keep Damian on his toes. The two traded blows, each near-fall causing the crowd to gasp.

Just when it seemed Damian was about to secure the victory, Finn Bálor appeared at ringside. You felt a knot of dread form in your stomach as Finn slid into the ring, attacking Damian from behind. The referee called for the bell, disqualifying JD and awarding the match to Damian. But the assault didn't stop there.

As the bell rang, Dom Mysterio, Kalisto, and Liv Morgan joined Finn and JD, surrounding Damian. They began to pummel him, their combined assault overwhelming him. The crowd erupted in boos, but the beating continued.

"Come on, we have to help him!" Rhea shouted, already sprinting towards the curtain. You were right behind her, adrenaline surging through your veins.

Bursting onto the stage, the crowd's reaction shifted to cheers as you and Rhea charged towards the ring. Rhea slid in first, immediately going after Liv Morgan, her strength and fury on full display. You followed, targeting Kalisto with a series of rapid strikes.

The brawl was chaotic, each side trying to gain the upper hand. You managed to land a solid kick on Kalisto, sending him stumbling back. Rhea, meanwhile, lifted Liv and tossed her out of the ring with a powerful slam. Finn and JD turned their attention to you, but Damian, fueled by your support, fought back with renewed vigor.

He grabbed Finn, delivering a punishing chokeslam that shook the ring. You and Rhea teamed up against JD, your combined efforts finally driving him out of the ring. With Dom, Kalisto, and Liv already retreating, the attackers regrouped on the outside, glaring up at the three of you.

The crowd roared in approval as you helped Damian to his feet. He nodded his thanks, a determined look in his eyes. "Thanks for the save," he said, his voice hoarse from the fight.

"Anytime," Rhea replied, a fierce grin on her face. "They won't mess with you when we're around."

You gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "We're a team. We've got your back, always."

As the three of you stood tall in the ring, the fans cheered louder, the bond between you, Rhea, and Damian stronger than ever. You knew there would be more battles to come, but together, you were unstoppable.

[madhatterbri]

Jealous Trend | D.P.

Summary: Hey girl, can I request a Damian Priest x reader fic. Reader is over trying to get her boyfriend Damian to do a tiktok with her so she does one with her bestie Jey Uso instead and ohhhhh Damian is not happy when someone shows him the tiktok video.

Requested by: @miss-kuki-nz

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @eringobraugh27

"No,"

Y/N rolled her eyes when her boyfriend dismissed her request to make a Tiktok with her again. After all the rumors in the past with Kayden, he never wanted to make another video with anyone again. The backlash wasn't worth the drama. She sighed and left to get ready for her match.

After her match, she walked to the back. She hadn't run into Damian ever since he turned her down. It wasn't fair. She loved to make videos with him. It wasn't for likes or views. It just felt nice having videos with them together.

"I know that long face. Old D told you no to another Tiktok, huh?" Jey teased.

"It isn't fair. He made them all the time with Kayden. Now he won't do a single one with me," Y/N pouted.

"You know my man likes the private life. What you got in mind anyway?" He asked.

She told him the idea. He seemed to like it. They planned this for after RAW.

The Tiktok was surprisingly fun. They decided to reenact the scene from Mean Girls, where Janis is accusing Cady of being a plastic while in a car. Of course, they did this in front of a Waffle House. Y/N pretended that she was hurt she wasn't invited to eat with him.

After making some edits, Y/N posted the video on Tiktok. The video went viral almost instantly. Viewers left hearts, reblogs, and positive comments. Everyone really seemed to like it, except one.

Damian sat on a bar stool in the hotel bar. He was waiting for Y/N to unwind with him. She said she would meet him there. When the stool next to him moved, he thought the person would be her girlfriend. Instead, Rhea Ripley sat next to him. She smiled briefly at him.

"You been on Tiktok lately?" She asked. "Your girlfriend is actually pretty creative,"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

Before he could pull up his phone, Rhea showed him the video. Damian watched it a few times before pausing it. He was pissed. His hands rubbed his face to hide his anger.

"I'm gonna yeet him through a window," Damian threatened.

[thenaughtynorth]

San Juan Heat (18+) (Damian Priest x f!reader)

A night out in Puerto Rico changes everything when a simple dance between you and Damian Priest turns into something far more intense.

Damian Priest x female reader

Warnings: Smut (oops), friends to lovers, PDA

Word count: Approx 2,9k

Don’t listen to Bad Bunny while you’re ovulating.

I know nothing about Puerto Rico and hardly speak Spanish, forgive me haha

———

The night air in San Juan was thick with heat, the scent of salt from the ocean mixing with the intoxicating aroma of rum and spices wafting from nearby food stalls. Music pulsed through the streets, the rhythmic beat of salsa intertwining with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. The city was alive, and so were you.

You and Damian had been friends for years—coworkers on the road, confidants in the chaos of your shared careers. But tonight, something was different.

After the electric WWE show in Puerto Rico, Damian insisted on showing you his home the way it was meant to be seen—not from a tour bus, not from a fancy hotel, but from the heart of the streets where he grew up.

And now, you were here. Standing beneath glowing streetlights, surrounded by people dancing effortlessly to the infectious rhythm of the music.

Damian stood beside you, looking every bit the Puerto Rican prince in his fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos on his forearms. His long dark hair was still damp from the heat, his sharp jawline catching the golden light.

“Tell me you’ve danced salsa before,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with challenge.

You smirked. “Maybe once or twice. I can hold my own.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, his towering frame making you suddenly feel small in the best possible way. “We’ll see about that, hermosa.”

Before you could respond, his hand slipped into yours, and he pulled you onto the dance floor.

The moment your bodies aligned, the energy shifted.

Damian’s grip on your waist was firm but teasing, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your back, igniting sparks in their wake. His other hand held yours, guiding you into the first steps, his movements fluid and confident. The beat pulsed through your veins as you followed his lead, your body molding against his, heat building between you with each turn, each press of his hips against yours.

“Damn,” he murmured, his voice huskier now, almost strained. “You really can dance.”

You grinned, breathless, as you rolled your hips into his, teasing him with a smirk. “Told you.”

His grip on you tightened just slightly. It was just just enough to let you feel the shift in his energy, the barely restrained control he was holding onto. His deep brown eyes locked onto yours, the flickering lights around you reflecting in them, making them burn even darker.

The world around you faded.

It was just the two of you now. Your bodies in sync, moving as if they had always belonged together. Every step, every sway brought you closer, the heat between you rising until it was almost unbearable. The air between you grew thick with something neither of you had acknowledged before, something unspoken but undeniable.

Had you both been so oblivious to this strong, electric connection between you?

Damian dipped you suddenly, his grip strong, his breath warm against your lips. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared up at him, your hands clutching his arms.

He didn’t let you go.

“Fuckkk,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze dropping to your parted lips before flicking back up to your eyes.

Your pulse hammered. “What?”

His jaw clenched, as if he was at war with himself. Then, with a frustrated groan, he pulled you upright, spinning you back into his arms—this time, pressing your body flush against his.

Your breath caught.

You could feel everything.

The music still played, but neither of you were dancing anymore. You were just moving, wrapped in each other, your bodies shifting, your hips brushing, his hands gripping you tighter, fingers pressing into your waist as if trying to memorize the feel of you.

“You’re killing me, hermosa,” he murmured, his lips hovering just above your ear, his voice strained with something dangerously close to desperation.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Then do something about it.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and before you could process it, his mouth crashed onto yours.

The kiss was fire. Hot, deep, possessive. Damian didn’t just kiss you; he devoured you. His hands gripped your face, tilting you up to him as his tongue swept in, claiming you like he had been starving for you.

You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his arm locking around your waist, pulling you tighter, until there was no any space left between you.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your lips, breaking away just enough to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me this isn’t just the tequila.”

You exhaled sharply, your fingers threading into his damp hair, tugging slightly just to hear the way his breath hitched. “It’s not.”

His grip on you tightened. “Good.”

And then, he kissed you again—harder, deeper, with the kind of hunger that promised the night was far from over.

With a final glance around the crowd, Damian took your hand and led you away from the dancing, from the music, from the streetlights.

Damian’s grip on your hand was firm, almost possessive, as he pulled you through the dimly lit streets of San Juan. The heavy bass of the salsa music still thumped in the distance, blending with the distant sounds of laughter and the occasional car passing by. But you barely noticed.

Your lips were still tingling from his kiss, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else.

Damian didn’t speak. He didn’t really have to. The tension between you had reached a fever pitch, something raw and electric simmering just beneath the surface. His long strides were purposeful, his grip on you unwavering, his entire body radiating a barely restrained need that sent a thrill straight through you.

Then, suddenly, he stopped.

Before you could ask why, he turned sharply, pulling you into a shadowed alleyway between two old stone buildings. The streetlights barely reached this far, leaving only a small whisper of golden light dancing across his sharp features.

Your back hit the cool brick wall as Damian caged you in, both hands planted on either side of your head. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in and crashed his lips crashed onto yours.

This kiss was different from the one on the dance floor.

This one was messy, urgent—desperate.

Damian’s hands found your hips, pulling you against him so you could feel just how badly he needed you. His fingers dug into your waist, his tongue claiming yours as he pressed you into the wall.

You moaned into his mouth, your nails scraping down his back as he kissed you harder, his teeth grazing your lower lip before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck, hermosa,” he rasped, breaking away just long enough to drag his lips down your neck. His teeth scraped against your pulse point before he sucked, hard, marking you.

“You’re driving me insane. We’re not gonna make it to the hotel,” he admitted, his voice rough, low and dangerous.

You could only moan in response.

His hands roamed over your body, gripping your thighs, lifting you just slightly so you could grind against him. The friction made you both groan, your bodies completely in sync, just like they had been on the dance floor—only now, there was no crowd, no music.

Just heat. Just him.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair, tugging just enough to make him growl against your skin. His lips trailed lower, teasing the curve of your breast through your dress. His breathing was ragged, his control fraying by the second.

“We need to go,” he said, though his lips were still on you, his body still pinning you against the wall.

You smirked, rolling your hips into his one last time just to watch him snap.

His jaw clenched, his hands tightening on you almost painfully. “Keep that up, and I’m taking you right here.”

Your breath hitched. “Maybe I want that.”

Damian cursed under his breath, then suddenly he was pulling away, his grip on your wrist firm as he dragged you out of the alley and back onto the streets.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way toward the hotel, but you didn’t need words.

The way Damian kept stealing glances at you, the way his hand clenched at his side as if physically restraining himself from touching you again… It was all too much, too intense, too fucking hot.

The moment you stepped into the elevator, the doors barely beginning to slide shut, Damian snapped.

He spun you around, pressing you against the cool metal wall, his body flush against yours.

“We should probably wait,” he murmured against your lips.

You smiled, eyes dark with mischief. “But you won’t.”

His control shattered.

The elevator filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, of hungry, wet kisses, of his hands exploring your body like he was trying to memorize every inch.

The soft ding of the elevator reaching your floor barely registered. Damian lifted you into his arms effortlessly, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss.

Somehow, he managed to nervously fumble for his key card, and the moment the door swung open, he pulled you inside.

The moment your back hit the mattress, Damian hovered over you, his body a caged inferno radiating heat, desire, and an untamed hunger he had kept buried for too long. His hands, warm and commanding, traced slow, deliberate paths down your sides, as if memorizing the feel of you beneath his fingertips.

You swallowed hard. Boy oh boy were you in for it.

His eyes roamed over you, dark and intense, pupils blown wide. He licked his lips as he exhaled sharply, taking in the sight of you breathless and flushed beneath him.

“Damian…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your body already aching for him to close the space between you.

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk. “Mami, you don’t know what you do to me.”

His voice was a sinful rasp, thick with need, and it sent a shiver through you. You felt every inch of him pressing into you, the weight of his body, the way his hardness strained against the fabric still between you. The thought of him barely holding himself together only made you ache for him more.

His fingers toyed with the thin straps of your dress, dragging them down with agonizing slowness, his mouth following their path. The brush of his lips against your bare shoulder was a whisper of a promise, a tease that made your breath catch.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmured against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, “how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

Your fingers buried into his hair as you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily at the deep, gravelly hunger in his tone.

“How long?” you asked, voice shaky, challenging him. Your curiosity got the best of you.

Damian chuckled, the sound dark and full of sinful intent. He kissed a slow path down your collarbone, lips parting, teeth grazing teasingly before he soothed the spot with his tongue.

“Too long,” he admitted. “Too damn long.”

His mouth moved lower, tasting, savoring. His teeth scraped gently against the swell of your breast, and your moan was instantaneous. His large hands slid beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it down inch by inch, dragging the moment out just to watch you squirm beneath him.

“F-fuck, Dami…” You whimpered, rolling your hips against his, desperate for more.

He groaned, his hands gripping your thighs, pressing them apart as he settled between them. “You’re so needy for me already,” he teased, voice thick with pride and possession. “Is this what happens when I finally get my hands on you?”

“Shut up and touch me,” you shot back, your body burning, pulsing with an ache only he could soothe. The way he was speaking to you? It was the single most arousing thing you’d ever been a part of.

His eyes darkened even further, and the tension in his body snapped.

His lips crashed back onto yours, and this time, there was no teasing. His tongue delved deep, claiming you, devouring you. His hands roamed greedily, his touch rougher now, fingers digging into your skin as if staking his claim.

You gasped against his mouth as he gripped your hips, rolling his own against you, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you. The friction was deliciously torturous, sending shocks of pleasure through your body, making you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, dragging his lips down your body. He nipped at your skin, kissed, licked, traced his tongue along every sensitive spot until you were trembling beneath him.

His mouth dipped lower, his breath hot against your inner thigh. He looked up at you then, his gaze molten with desire, with worship. “Let me taste you.”

A shudder ran through you, anticipation coiling hot and tight in your stomach. “Yes… please.”

That was all he needed.

Damian’s hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open for him, and then his mouth was on you, his tongue tracing slow, agonizing circles that had your back arching off the bed. He groaned as he tasted you, his grip tightening, his pace growing more demanding as he worked you apart, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Every flick of his tongue, every slow stroke sent you spiraling higher, his deep moans vibrating against your skin as he lost himself in you. He held you there, right on the edge, prolonging your pleasure until you were trembling, your hands fisting the sheets.

“Damian—” You gasped, your body teetering dangerously close to release.

His fingers dug into your hips, pinning you in place as he sucked hard, sending you tumbling over the edge with a cry of pleasure. The world blurred around you, your body shaking as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

Before you had a chance to recover, Damian was on you again, his mouth capturing yours in a deep, greedy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, his body settling between them.

“I need to feel you,” he growled, his voice thick, almost desperate. “Fuck. Tell me you want this too.”

Your nails raked down his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. “I want you, Dami.”

Your clothes were rapidly discarded on the floor, and you couldn’t help but admire his toned body and his detailed tattoos. His body was an absolute work of art—something you already knew, but became insanely aware of again under these different circumstances.

A low curse escaped his lips, and then, finally, he was pushing into you, stretching you, filling you inch by inch. You both groaned at the feeling, the slow, torturous connection unraveling whatever remained of your self-control.

Damian dropped his forehead against yours, his breath ragged as he gave you time to adjust. His lips brushed against your temple, your cheek, your lips.

“Fuck, you feel so perfect,” he murmured, his hands roaming your body as he finally started to move.

The rhythm started slow, deep, each thrust deliberate, designed to make you feel every inch of him. And you sure as shit did.

He watched you, his eyes locked onto yours, as if memorizing every expression, every moan that spilled from your lips.

“You’re mine, baby” he whispered against your skin, his thrusts growing harder, deeper. “Say it.”

You gasped, gripping onto him, your body arching beneath his. “I’m yours, Damian … all yours.”

That was all he needed.

His pace turned relentless, his hands gripping your hips as he drove into you, pulling you higher and higher with every movement. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, the slick slap of skin against skin, the deep, guttural curses that spilled from his lips in Spanish.

Your nails raked down his back, leaving red streaks in their wake, and Damian groaned, the pain only fueling him further. His lips captured yours again, swallowing your cries as he pushed you both toward the edge.

Every nerve in your body had been lit on fire. It was the wildest rush you had ever felt. The most amazing bliss; it was like any other high you had ever felt.

You shattered first, pleasure ripping through you so violently it left you gasping, shaking beneath him. Damian followed moments later, his release a deep, primal growl against your ear as he spilled into you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

For a long time, neither of you moved, tangled together in the aftermath. Damian buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed lazy kisses along your shoulder.

Eventually, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his fingers tracing soft, absentminded circles against your waist. His eyes were still dark, but now, beneath the lingering hunger, there was something else—something deeper.

“So much for just friends,” he murmured, smirking.

You laughed breathlessly, brushing a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah… I think we crossed that line a while ago.”

His grin widened, wicked and full of promise. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

And with that, he rolled you beneath him once more, proving just how serious he was.

[mazikeenhyde]

All is Fair in Love, War and Dominant Fuckery - Part 2

POLY JUDGMENT DAY – 18+ - MINORS DNI! 

WARNING – FULL ANGST  - FIGHTING (PHYSICAL&VERBAL), CHEATING, DRUGS, ED, DOMVS SUB etc 

WRESTLER-READER (female)  X WWE JUDGMENT DAY – RHEA RIPLEY, DAMIAN PRIEST, DOMINIK MYSTERIO, FINN BALOR 

-Part 2 -

Finn and I had gotten back home a lot later than I expected, we had trained for a solid three hours in a local gym. He mainly focused on the weights section and training his already perfect abs. Meanwhile I was imagining Dom’s face on the punching bag and let all hell break loose, as I knocked the ever-loving shit out of it repeatedly, cussing the twat under my breath. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Dominik with all my heart, I loved every single one of them. But at times Dom could be such a dick, especially since the whole Liv Morgan storyline had started. He was different, he acted like a whole new person at times. I could sit back and close my eyes just imagining how much I would love to just throttle him until he begged me to stop, except when he would be pleading with me, I wouldn’t… not at first anyway. 

As we made our way into the house it was dark, the lights were all off and the hallways silent. Kissing my forehead Finn quietly turned and crept upstairs as he was ready to shower and crash in bed. Same routine as ever for me, I needed to get a drink of water and have a moment to myself before I could turn off for the night. 

Making my way into the kitchen I reached out and flicked on the undercounter lights, knowing full well they wouldn’t be half as bright as if I turned on the main one. I didn’t want to disturb the others who I imagined were all fast asleep, but I was wrong. 

The second the light came on a dark figure leaning against the kitchen Island, mere inches in front of me came into full view. It was Rhea, and she was pissed. 

Her eyes, like dark inviting pools you could easily drown in glared down at me as she stood with her arms crossed. Adorning her black skinny jeans and laced corset top her fingers tapped against her skin, running her nails along her bicep. 

“Don’t Lie to me y/n.” She stated, bluntly, calmly and without any emotion. 

Stepping to the side I spotted a small wooden box behind her, and I recognized it all to well. It had been hidden in my bedside cabinet. It was private, and I knew the only person who had found out about it, obviously couldn’t keep their mouth shut. 

“little cunt” I muttered under my breath, closing my eyes for a second, but I was rather sharply bought back into reality as Rhea lunged herself forward, wrapping a hand around my throat and pushing me back, pinning me against the kitchen wall behind. Her grasp around my throat tightened and her eyes burned a whole wave of fury like I had never witnessed before. 

A part of me was terrified in that moment, the other part a little turned on. But the fear was definitely winning. 

“I’m not playing with you y/n.” Rhea spat out as her other hand slammed against the wall right next to my face. 

Her grip around my throat loosened as she took a tight hold to the front of my hoodie instead and threw me forward, tossing me straight into the kitchen island. I fell forward, stomach taking the full impact as I braced over the counter and paused trying to catch my breath. Rhea came up behind me and taking a handful of my hair pulled me back up so I was standing again and whispered in my ear. 

“Open it.” 

But I dare not, I knew what she would say, and she would never understand. 

“No.” I muttered silently, full of fear yet I knew the contents of that box needed to stay secret. 

Rhea seemed genuinely surprised by my response for a second as her grasp on my hair got tighter. 

“What did you say?” She spat out through gritted teeth, taking in a sharp deep breath and inhaling my scent. The smell of sweat and fear only further fueled that dominant side of her. 

“I said…NO!” I tried to shout as I attempted to escape her grasp. 

“I can open it…” a soft and quiet voice came from the shadowed hallway behind us. Rhea turned, pulling me with her as we both turned to see Dominik, in his black and yellow checkered pajama trousers and Latino Cheat t-shirt.

The boy took a step forward as Rhea released her grip on my hair and I took a step back, staring Dominik down. 

“Don’t you fucking dare” I stated, staring a hole through him, but I could tell he was enjoying being able to one up me. 

Before either of them could move I lept onto the Island countertop grabbing the box and holding it up in the air, away from their reach. 

 “FUCK OFF, JUST, JUST FUCK OFF THE LOT OF YOU!...”I paused to take a breath, “Why can’t you all just get out of my space, just get out of my, of my life for like 5 minutes!” I screamed, clearly loud enough that Damian and Finn had come downstairs and entered the kitchen as well in time to hear my great speech. They both seemed both surprised and a little worried at the sight of Rhea and Dominik standing at the base of the kitchen counter while I had somehow made my way to the top, waving a little wooden box in the air like it was the holy grail. 

Finn stared up at me as Damian walked to the side, unfortunately for me being a short arse in comparison he could still reach my hands, even if my arms were fully stretched out. Wrapping one large arm around my waist he pulled me down while pulling the box out from my hand with the other and passing it over to Rhea. 

“No Damian, stop! Please!” I pleaded as he placed me down on my feet and stood behind me. He held his arms out and held me in a tight embrace, it was both comforting and a little uneasy all at the same time. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be nice or just keep me still. 

Dom smirked at me, offering a wink, like he was so pleased he could screw with me once again. Ever since Summer Slam he had found a new personality trait he was thriving off. This whole I’m better than everyone and I’m such a bad boy, blah blah blah. Even if I loved him, his behavior made me wanna knock him out so badly. He reached out his arm to take the box from Rhea, but she flicked his hands away, never breaking eye contact with me. 

“Nah, that’s not how we are going to play this.” Her Azzie accent was thick, deep and felt all to emotionally invested in this very moment. 

Slamming the box on the countertop she slid it over towards me, her eyes glaring through her dark eyeshadow. I could tell something in her had clicked. 

“You want us out of your space, out of your life? Fine” she said, taking a step forward and placing one finger below my chin to raise it up to meet her, tears welling up in my eyes. She didn’t care though; you would think she was enjoying it.  

“If this is so important to you, that it means more than what we have? Know damn well, that regardless of what anyone else thinks… I expected better from you, y/n” 

Great, way to make me feel shit. I was getting the I’m not angry, just disappointed lecture.

“But Rhea? She…” Dom interjected but before he could finish I had finally had enough of him. Breaking away from Damian’s grasp I pushed passed Rhea and in one swift move, my fist collided with Dom’s face. 

“FOR ONCE CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I screamed as he fell back, gripping his face. 

Damian was quick to grab a hold of me as Rhea got in between us and Finn latched onto  Dominik before he could retaliate. 

“You always gotta cause trouble don’t you y/n! You’ve always gotta be the center of attention!” He spat, wrestling with Finn’s grip. “Love over Loyalty y/n! and here you are keeping secrets!”   

“HA! That’s rich! Seems like you’re the attention whore these days, parading around RAW like your some GOD!” I tussled and escaped Damian’s grip as Rhea latched her arm around my front while I got in Dom’s face. 

“Funny thing, bringing up loyalty Dom Dom… how is Liv?” I questioned smiling, knowing full well I had hit a nerve. His cheek had turned red and was starting to swell at this point. It hurt my heart a little, but my anger soon buried those emotions. 

“That. Is. Just. A. Storyline.” Dom was furious, spitting every word through gritted teeth. I raised my eyebrows enjoying the reaction from him as Rhea pushed me back into Damian who took a tighter hold of me. 

“I Dunno Dom, seems a little too real these days” I offered him a wink, “Did you really need to spend sooooooo much time together outside of WWE’s walls. Someone’s enjoying themselves?” 

“ENOUGH” Rhea shouted, slamming her fist on the counter. “ENOUGH!” 

Just then a familiar ringtone filled the room, and I smirked as Dom’s face turned to his pocket. 

Dom took a hard swallow as Rhea reached into his pocket and glared at the photo of Liv Morgan flashing up on his phone screen. 

“Busted…” I sang out and smiled as Damian’s grip loosened on me. 

Dom threw his arms up and out from Finn as he ran over and grabbed the box from the countertop…

“If I’m going down, you’re coming with me!” he shouted. 

“NO!” I screamed and reached forward as he smashed it onto the floor, exposing its contents on the ground. 

My secret spilled out across the tile floor and not a single member of the judgment day said a word. They just stared at the floor, forgetting for a moment that only seconds before Dom and I were ready to fully knock the shit out of each other.

Rhea turned to look at me, disappointment etched across her face.

"It's not what you think..." I pleaded with her, tears running down my cheeks.

"Then tell me y/n, tell me."

TBC

-Anyone want me to put them on a tag list for part 3? -

[keekee-23]

Unspoken Desires

A Y/N x Damian Priest Fanfiction

Warning: Smut

Summary: Damian Priest offers Y/N a place to stay during her house fumigation. She accidentally catches Damian in an intimate moment, leading to a passionate encounter that reveals their hidden feelings.

Y/N sighed as she locked the front door of her house, taking one last glance at the “Fumigation in Progress” sign staked in her front yard. She knew it was necessary, but the inconvenience of finding somewhere to stay for a few days wasn’t something she’d anticipated. Fortunately, her good friend Damian Priest had offered her a solution. He had invited her to stay at his place until the fumigation was complete. While she initially hesitated, his genuine concern and insistence had won her over.

The thought of being so close to Damian made her nervous, not because she feared for her safety—she knew he would protect her without a second thought—but because of the feelings she had been harboring for him, feelings she had kept hidden for far too long.

When she arrived at Damian’s place, she was struck by how comfortable and inviting it was. Damian’s home was a perfect reflection of him—modern, stylish, and undeniably masculine. The walls were adorned with a mixture of Batman, horror paraphilia and Asian inspired decor, and the furniture was sleek yet comfortable.

He greeted her with his usual charming smile, his tall, muscular frame leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Make yourself at home, Y/N,” Damian said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I’m really glad you decided to stay here. It’ll be nice having some company.”

Y/N returned his smile, though her heart was pounding in her chest. “Thanks, Damian. I really appreciate you letting me crash here. I didn’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing at all,” he assured her, his dark eyes holding hers for a moment longer than usual. “I’m happy to have you here.”

The warmth in his voice made her stomach flutter. She had always been attracted to Damian—who wouldn’t be? He was tall, tatted, handsome, and had an effortless charisma that drew people to him. But there was more to him than his looks. He was kind, thoughtful, and had a way of making her feel special, even when she was just a friend in his orbit. And now, staying under his roof, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way about her.

After Y/N settled in, Damian insisted on making dinner. He moved confidently around the kitchen, his strong hands expertly chopping vegetables and seasoning the meat. Y/N watched him from the kitchen island, admiring the way his muscles flexed under his shirt as he worked.

“You’re quite the chef,” Y/N remarked, trying to distract herself from the way her body was reacting to him.

Damian chuckled, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I like to cook. It helps me unwind after a long day. Plus, it’s a great way to impress guests.”

Y/N smirked, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, consider me impressed.”

They ate together at the dining table, the atmosphere comfortable but with an undercurrent of tension that neither could ignore. They talked about everything and nothing— her job, his upcoming wrestling tours, their mutual friends, old memories—but there was something different about their conversation tonight. Damian seemed more attentive, his gaze lingering on her lips when she spoke, his hand brushing hers when he passed her the salt. Y/N felt the heat rise in her cheeks every time their eyes met.

After dinner, they moved to the living room. Damian poured them each a glass of wine, and they sat on the couch, the dim lighting creating an intimate ambiance. They continued talking, their conversation flowing easily, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, something that would change everything between them.

When it was finally time to call it a night, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. The day had been surprisingly perfect, and the thought of it ending left her with a longing she couldn’t quite shake.

“Goodnight, Damian,” she said softly as he showed her to the guest room, the wine having left her feeling warm and slightly flushed.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something she couldn’t quite place. “Sleep well.”

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her heart was still racing, her mind replaying every moment of the evening. It was as if something had shifted between them, something subtle but undeniable.

Y/N changed into her pajamas and slipped into the guest bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Her mind replayed the evening's events, the way Damian had looked at her, the subtle touches that sent shivers down her spine. Did he feel the same way she did? Or was she imagining things, letting her attraction to him cloud her judgment?

Sometime later, she woke up with the need to use the bathroom. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep as she padded down the hallway. On her way back to the guest room, something caught her attention. Damian’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, and a soft light spilled into the hallway.

Curiosity got the best of her, and Y/N found herself peeking through the crack in the door. What she saw made her heart stop.

Damian was lying on his bed, his shirt discarded on the floor, his muscular chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. One hand gripped the sheets beside him, while the other was wrapped around his length, moving with steady, deliberate strokes. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was witnessing. But what shocked her more than anything was hearing him moan her name, his voice thick with desire.

“Y/N…”

The sound of her name falling from his lips sent a shockwave of arousal through her body. She should have turned away, given him his privacy, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of him pleasuring himself, thinking of her.

She bit her lip, feeling a rush of heat between her thighs as she watched him. The sight of Damian in such an intimate moment, his face contorted in pleasure as he whispered her name, was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to go to him, to be the one to satisfy the desire he was feeling.

But just as she tried to back away, her foot accidentally bumped into a small table by the wall, the sound echoing loudly in the silent hallway. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat as Damian’s eyes snapped open and locked onto hers.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment, her mind racing as she tried to come up with an excuse, anything to explain why she was standing there, watching him. But Damian’s expression was calm, almost amused, as if he had been expecting this all along.

Slowly, he sat up and adjusted himself. His movements were deliberate as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes were drawn to his body, the way his muscles flexed as he moved, the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t seem the least bit ashamed of being caught in such a compromising position. If anything, he looked pleased.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her brain was still trying to process what she had just seen, what she was still seeing. Damian’s eyes were dark with desire as he stood and slowly walked toward her, his movements predatory, like a panther stalking its prey.

Y/N’s body reacted before her mind could catch up, her heart pounding in her chest as he approached. She knew she should turn and run, retreat to the safety of the guest room, but she couldn’t move. The way he was looking at her, with such raw, unfiltered lust, made her knees weak.

When he was only a foot away, Damian reached out, his hand cupping her cheek as he gazed down at her. His touch was warm, his thumb gently stroking her skin as he tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to see that,” he murmured, his voice sending vibrations through her body. “But I’m glad you did.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in his tone, something in the way he was looking at her, that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall. Her mind was racing, trying to process what was happening, but all she could focus on was the heat radiating from his body, the way his breath ghosted over her skin.

“I… I didn’t mean to—” she started, but Damian cut her off with a soft shush.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he whispered, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. His touch was gentle, but there was a firmness to it that made her shiver. “How long I’ve imagined this?”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, but the sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, left no room for doubt. He wanted her—just as much as she wanted him.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it, but she didn’t care anymore. The truth was out, and there was no taking it back now.

Damian’s eyes darkened with desire, and before she could say another word, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into him, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

The kiss was everything she had imagined it would be—intense, passionate, and filled with a longing that had been building between them for so long. Damian’s hands roamed her body, exploring every curve with a reverence that made her feel cherished, desired. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her toes curl.

He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers, and Y/N moaned softly into his mouth. She could feel the heat of his arousal through his boxers against her, and it only fueled her own desire. She wanted him—needed him—more than she had ever needed anyone.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her off the ground, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bed. Y/N’s heart pounded with excitement as he laid her down gently, his body hovering over hers, every movement deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too,” Y/N admitted, her voice trembling with anticipation. She reached up, tracing the lines of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at the softness of his skin beneath her touch. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Damian.”

Her confession seemed to ignite something in him. With a low growl, Damian claimed her lips once more, the kiss searing and intense. His hands were everywhere, sliding beneath her shirt to push it up and over her head, discarding it carelessly to the floor. Y/N’s breath hitched as his hands moved to her bra, deftly unclasping it before tossing it aside. He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over her exposed chest, his eyes darkening with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone, and lower still. Y/N’s breath hitched as he kissed his way down to her breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease one of her hardened nipples.

Y/N gasped, her back arching off the bed as Damian gently took her nipple into his mouth, sending a surge of pleasure through her. The sensation was overwhelming, and she instinctively tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished her breasts with tender attention. His tongue teased and his lips caressed, each movement igniting a fire that spread through her entire body. Damian’s hands began to explore further, slipping under the waistband of her shorts with a deliberate, slow motion, smoothly tugging them down along with her panties, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

Once she was completely bare before him, Damian paused to drink in the sight of her. His eyes traced every curve, every inch of her exposed skin with an intensity that made Y/N’s heart race. The heat of his gaze made her skin tingle, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks under his thorough scrutiny. Yet, despite her initial shyness, the way he looked at her—with such raw, unfiltered admiration—made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Y/N's thoughts blurred, lost in the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her. The earlier embarrassment she had felt was now a distant memory, drowned out by the overwhelming desire that consumed her. All she could focus on was Damian—how incredible his touch felt, how deeply she craved him. Every caress, every kiss was like a spark to the fire burning within her, intensifying her need for him with each passing moment.

Sensing the depth of her longing, Damian's lips began to travel lower, brushing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His hands followed, gentle yet firm, as they continued to explore her body. He paused briefly, lifting his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark with desire and filled with a silent question. Y/N, breathless and unable to speak, simply nodded, her consent clear in the way her body responded to his touch.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Damian leaned down, his lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. Every movement, every touch, was filled with a reverence that made her feel cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by the moment.

Y/N bit her lip, a soft moan escaping her as his lips moved closer to the place where she needed him most. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with anticipation as Damian continued his exploration, his mouth leaving no inch of her untouched.

When his tongue finally flicked over her sensitive core, Y/N cried out, her hips lifting off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. Damian’s grip on her tightened, holding her in place as he delved deeper, his tongue teasing and tasting her with a skill that made her head spin.

He worked her with a precision that spoke of experience, his movements deliberate and focused. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to drive her to the edge of ecstasy. Y/N’s moans grew louder, her body writhing beneath him as she lost herself in the sensation, her mind a blur of pleasure.

“Damian…” she gasped, her hands reaching for him, needing to feel him, to touch him.

Damian lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal as he crawled back up her body. He kissed her deeply, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, and Y/N’s desire for him only intensified. She could feel him, hard and ready against her thigh, and she wanted him inside her, needed him more than anything she had ever needed before.

“I need you,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with the intensity of her longing.

Damian didn’t keep her waiting long. He quickly stripped away his boxers, revealing his tatted muscular body in all its glory. Y/N’s eyes roamed over him, taking in the sight of his broad shoulders, the defined muscles of his chest and abs, the way his body seemed to radiate strength and power. And then there was the hard, thick length of him, standing proudly between his legs, a clear testament to his desire for her.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as her eyes locked onto his. Damian’s gaze was molten with need as he climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another heated kiss as he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of him brushing against her wetness.

Y/N moaned softly into his mouth, her hips bucking instinctively as she sought to bring him closer. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her body aching for him, for the fulfillment she knew only he could provide.

Damian groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips as he slowly began to push inside her. He moved with a deliberate slowness, inch by agonizing inch, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious combination of pleasure and pressure that had Y/N gasping for breath.

When he was fully seated inside her, Damian paused, his forehead resting against hers as they both took a moment to savor the feeling of being so intimately connected. Y/N’s breath came in shallow pants as she adjusted to the size of him, her body stretching to accommodate him in a way that felt almost sinful.

“You feel so good,” Damian whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips before slowly beginning to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in with a smooth, controlled thrust.

Y/N moaned, her head falling back against the pillows as she gave herself over to the sensation. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as Damian took his time, building a slow, steady rhythm that left her trembling with need. He was relentless, driving into her with a precision that made her toes curl, each stroke sending waves of pleasure radiating out from her core.

“Damian,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his back as he increased the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room, a symphony of skin against skin, punctuated by the breathless moans and gasps that fell from her lips.

Damian shifted his angle slightly, his hips rolling in a way that hit just the right spot inside her, and Y/N cried out, her body arching off the bed as a powerful surge of pleasure washed over her. He was hitting all the right places, every thrust pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Y/N’s world narrowed down to the feeling of Damian inside her, the heat of his body pressed against hers, the way he was driving her absolutely wild with every thrust. Her breath hitched as she felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in her lower belly, winding tighter and tighter with every movement.

Damian could sense her nearing the edge, and he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, as he sought to bring her to the peak of pleasure. His hand slid between their bodies, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core and pressing down with just the right amount of pressure.

Y/N’s eyes flew open, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as the pleasure exploded within her, a white-hot burst of ecstasy that had her entire body trembling. She clung to Damian, her nails digging into his back as her orgasm crashed over her, wave after wave of intense pleasure rolling through her body. Y/N's moans filled the room, her voice raw and unrestrained as she gave herself over completely to the sensation.

Damian groaned in response, his own control fraying as he felt her walls tightening around him, pulsing with the force of her climax. The way she responded to him, the way her body moved with his, was pushing him to the edge faster than he expected. But he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He wanted to make this moment last, to savor every second of being with her like this.

He slowed his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deep and measured as he rode out her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure until she was left trembling and spent beneath him. Y/N's breath came in short, ragged gasps as the aftershocks of her release pulsed through her, her body still clinging to Damian's with a desperate need.

But Damian wasn’t done. He wasn’t satisfied with just one climax; he wanted to see her fall apart again, to hear her cry out his name as he took her to new heights of pleasure. With that thought in mind, he shifted his position slightly, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder to change the angle of his thrusts.

Y/N gasped as the new angle sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt another wave of arousal build within her. Damian’s movements were more controlled now, each thrust precise and deliberate as he pushed her closer and closer to another climax. His hand found her clit once more, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had her hips bucking against him, chasing after that delicious friction.

“Damian, please,” Y/N whimpered, her voice desperate as she felt herself teetering on the edge once again. She was so close, so achingly close, and the need to fall over that edge was almost unbearable.

Damian’s eyes darkened at her plea, a growl rumbling in his chest as he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving into her with a renewed intensity. He could feel his own release building, the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every thrust. But he held back, determined to bring her to the brink first.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Come for me again, baby. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

His words were like a trigger, pushing her over the edge with a force that took her breath away. Y/N’s body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm slammed into her, even more powerful than the first. Her vision blurred, and she cried out his name, her voice hoarse and trembling with the intensity of her release.

The sight of her coming undone beneath him, the feel of her tight, pulsing walls around him, was Damian’s undoing. With a guttural moan, he finally let go, his hips snapping against hers as he buried himself deep inside her, his release hitting him with a force that left him trembling. He groaned her name, his voice rough and low as he spilled into her, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

For a moment, they were both still, their bodies locked together as they rode out the last waves of their release. Y/N’s breath came in soft, ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Damian remained above her, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up, his breath hot against her neck.

Finally, when their breathing began to slow and the room grew quiet once more, Damian gently pulled out of her, collapsing onto the bed beside her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as they both basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Y/N snuggled into his chest, her body still humming with the remnants of pleasure as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

They lay like that for a long time, neither of them wanting to break the comfortable silence that had settled over them. Damian’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her back, his touch soothing and tender, as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling her skin against his.

Y/N sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut as she let herself relax completely in his embrace. She had never felt so at peace, so completely satisfied, as she did in that moment. Everything felt right, as if this was exactly where she was meant to be.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Damian murmured after a while, his voice soft and filled with contentment. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, her voice equally soft as she nuzzled closer to him. She knew that things would be different between them now, that their relationship had shifted in a way that couldn’t be undone. But she wasn’t afraid of that change. In fact, she welcomed it.

There was no need for words in that moment. They both knew what had happened, and they both knew that it was the start of something new, something beautiful. And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.

[ripleylove]

The light of the group.

requested by: @princessthatcantfuckingsleep saying: Omg hiiiii I love Ur writing 🩷🤍idk if you do The Judgment day x reader [platonic] BUT IF YOU DOOOOcan you please make a story where reader is young like 19 or 20 and everyone loves her and she’s a pretty close with The Judgment day as she's in the group, but she's like a more bubby/girly add on ,but one day Somone makes fun of her for standing out so much/being different than the rest of the group and she gets kinda insecure about it?Like just some platonic comfort ISTG I LUV IT SM, IF YOU DO THIS TYSMMM🤍🩷

pairing: the judgement day x fem reader (platonic)

genre:angst,comfort

summary: Shayna decides to make you feel insecure, but Rhea,Dom,Damian and Finn are here to tell you otherwise.

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

Well,let's say that you were kinda different from the judgment day.

They were dark,serious and intimidating, while you were the exact opposite: you were bubbly,optimistic and girly.

You stood out from the faction,because you were young and happy,and this was never a problem to you and to the members of the judgment day.

They loved you for being yourself,the light that contrasted with the darkness of the group.

The five of you always had the best fun together, and,in the ring, you all were unstoppable.

Until,during Monday Night Raw,you heard Rhea and Shayna Baszler talking backstage.

"I don't think she fits the group really well," Shayna mumbled to Rhea, "She's just so different,why did you even let her join?" Shayna said with an annoying tone,while Rhea was starting to get irritated.

"Listen,Shayna, i really love you and all but her difference from us and the reason why she joined are none of your business. So please,shut the fuck up." Rhea answered with a sarcastic smile,while getting up to do her entrance for a promo.

You hurriedly ran off,trying not to get caught,but you were stopped by Shayna's hand gripping strongly your arm. You tried to break free,but you weren't as strong as her.

"So,listen to me,for once and for all. You do not belong here and in the judgment day,get this in your head. You do not fit that faction and you must leave. You,a clingy and annoying good for nothing,stole my place in the judgment day. I hope they make you leave,because you don't deserve to be in that faction and in WWE at all. Got it?"

Her cruel words felt like daggers in your heart. Did you really not belong with them? Do they want you to leave? Are they faking it all because they're waiting you to leave?

Tears started to flow,and Shayna finally let go of you.

You started to ran,with no destination at all,just trying to get away from there as soon as possible,until Damian saw you.

"Princesa! Wait! What's happening?" He shouted while chasing behind you.

Your breath was shaky and your nose was blocked form all the snot that formed while you were crying,so you started to slow down.

Damian took advantage of this,and he catched up to you,holding your arms.

"Y/N,what happened to you? Did something happen? Did someone hurt you? Tell me,mi amor." He said softly after he noticed your tear stained cheeks and your red face.

"You come here just because you're pitying me right? Because you all want me to leave!" You chuckled,while tears were still flowing down your eyes.

"What?" Damian was confused: why did you even think about that?

"Oh,you know well what I'm talking about. You all want me to leave because I don't fit the standards of the judgment day and because I'm annoying. Right?"

...

"What the fuck?" Damian started, "Who told you that?" He asked,but he didn't even give you time to answer.

"Listen,amorcito,everything you said is completely wrong. What's the problem of being different? We love you the same,and your talent is unmatched. Do you think we would fake all the laughs,the hugs and the tears? Who told you that?"

Your lips started to wobble again,and Damian quickly pulled you in his embrace. "We love you,Y/N. Never doubt about that. Without you we would be like a puzzle that missed a piece,you're special to us. Do you want me to call the others so we can cuddle all together?" He asked with a soft tone,and you nodded,wanting to feel the comfort of your best friends.

After almost 5 minutes,you could see Rhea,Finn and Dominik running towards you. "Baby! We're here now." Rhea almost instantly hugged you tight,comforting you in one of the best ways.

"Damian told us what happened. We love you,lass,don't even think otherwise. You're the missing piece of our puzzle,you make us feel complete." Finn said while carefully stroking your hair,and Damian quickly exclaimed: "That's what I told her too!"

"The husbands are telepathic again." Rhea said while teasingly rolling her eyes,causing the five of you to giggle.

"Dulceza,did you think about those bad things by yourself,or somebody told you that?" Dom asked while stroking your cheeks.

You just mumbled "Shayna",not even wanting to remember the moment.

"Puta",Damian said under his breath.

"Oh,she's gonna pay for this" Rhea said,but she got interrupted by Finn.

"Okay okay we got it,we're gonna let her pay for what she did but first let's eat something!"

"CHICKEN TENDERS!!!!!!" Dom excitedly exclaimed, with his eyes lighting up.

So you really do belong there.

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx

[damiansgoodgirll]

I'm so happy your requests are open, I loveee your works :)

I was hoping I could ask for something with Rhea x Reader who goes non verbal when they're overwhelmed. Maybe with a small mention of Damien Priest ??

Have a great day :)

rhea ripley x reader ft platonic damian priest

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️comfort, reader feeling overwhelmed and anxious, reader going non-verbal

a comforting presence

it wasn’t a secret that you didn’t like big crowds. you preferred the comfort of silence.

rhea knew it and she never pushed you into doing things that would make you uncomfortable.

everytime she was in the ring fighting, she thought of you being at home cheering for her from the comfort of your own bedroom. she could feel your warmth and love even if you weren’t there.

but when rhea was confirmed to be the fifth member of bianca’s team for war games, you wanted to be there for her. this was going to be a huge moment for her and you wanted to be there.

rhea wasn’t so sure. she knew the crowd for war games was definitely gonna be worse and louder than any normal crowd and the fact that you would have been alone surrounded by people didn’t help her either.

she asked you to watch the match backstage but you said that it wouldn’t have been the same, you wanted to feel the crowd and wanted to enjoy the experience at fullest.

so she reluctantly agreed.

she bought you a ticket in a vip booth, so that you could hide and stay in your comfort in case the crowd got too loud.

you were fine with that - as long as you were able to see her and her team, you were happy with it.

the match went to her favor and even tho the glass barrier was keeping the crowd noise down, you were still able to enjoy the cheers and happy moments from the public.

everything was working out perfectly and you were so happy you didn’t miss that incredible moment. rhea was as happy as you were - knowing that you were in the crowd cheering for her.

the first thing she wanted to do once she won the match was to come and get you but press and interviews stopped her. you still enjoyed the rest of the show - feeling a little down when damian didn’t win because of finn, again but getting hyped again when roman’s team came into the ring.

you couldn’t believe you were assisting to that live.

you were happily cheering and watching the match behind the glass when you noticed some people looking at you. they probably recognized you as you and rhea never stayed private in your relationship. a few of them took quick pictures of you to post on twitter, just to let the fan base know that you were there.

quickly receiving notifications from you phone, you decided to open twitter and read what was going on about you.

she finally showed up - a rheas’ stan account said.

i thought she never existed and we were all imagining her - someone else said.

and way worse comments aimed towards you that you didn’t want to read.

why were people so mean?

looking back at the girls who took pictures of you, you noticed them staring and once they caught your eyes, they pretended nothing ever happened.

you felt small, in that moment you just wanted to disappear.

without thinking twice, you left your spot and you tried to find the entrance for the backstage. remembering the pass rhea gave you, you knew you were going to use it now.

waking through the corridors, people stared at you, probably recognizing you.

“bad idea…” you whispered. trying to remain calm, you just wanted to be in rhea’s presence.

before you could even know where you were going, a big pair of arms gently tapped on your back.

damian was standing behind of you with the biggest smile on his face. he always cared about you and he knew that you came for rhea and he couldn’t be happier you showed up.

“damian…” you softly said, trying not to show any discomfort.

“hey y/n! it’s so nice to see you here!” he was happy even though he just lost “i haven’t seen you in a while and” damian stopped the moment he saw you weren’t there listening to him “everything okay?”

you couldn’t find words so you simply shook your head no.

“anything i can do?” he was worried. he never saw you so distressed.

“rhea…” was all you managed to say before you completely shut down.

he nodded, gently taking your hand into his bigger ones and guiding you backstage. you felt extremely uncomfortable being surrounded by people who kept looking at you and you were so thankful that damian was there to shield you with his body.

backstage it was calmer but still a lot of people who were working and moving quickly.

your brain couldn’t process what was going on, just a millions thoughts that ran through your mind.

what if you stayed at home like rhea said? what if she was busy and didn’t want to see you? what if you were just being a liability for her?

too many thoughts that you didn’t even realise that the person damian was talking with was rhea. she was there, looking between your lost look and damian who was explaining her that he found you waking through the building.

she was worried. you were looking at her but your eyes weren’t there, you weren’t there.

“…baby?” her voice came from distance even if she was standing right in front of you.

you looked up immediately at her. meeting her worried eyes. your brain started to work and the moment damian gave you some privacy, you took a deep breath.

“everything okay baby? what’s going on?” rhea was standing there in front of you trying to see if you were hurt or if something worse happened but there was no sign of fighting on your body “can you tell me what’s going on baby, please?” she wanted to help so bad but didn’t know how.

again, you shook your head no.

you weren’t comfortable talking, you couldn’t trust your words in that moment and the fear of being constantly spied upon made your skin shiver.

rhea immediately understood from the way you were standing. your body language gave her all the answers she needed.

she knew that eventually you were gonna to explain what happened later, she knew it and she knew that in that moment you needed her. you needed her comfort and her presence.

“let’s take you somewhere calmer okay pretty girl?” she asked, not really waiting for a reply. she softly grabbed your hand and she led you towards her locker room.

sitting down on her couch, your brought your hands into your lap as a few tears fell from your eyes.

“baby…” she whispered seeing you so upset “hey, it’s okay baby, i’m here…whatever you’re going through, you’re not alone, i’m here” she said sitting next to you.

you tried to smile and quickly wiped your tears off.

“is it okay if i touch you? can i hold you in my arms?” rhea gently asked you and the moment you nodded ‘yes’ with your head, she immediately brought her muscular arms around your body, letting your head rest on her shoulder.

she whispered soft words, trying to ease your discomfort.

“…everything is okay baby, i’m here, you’re safe…i got you pretty girl” rhea hated seeing you cry. she thought that probably something happened with you and the crowds, cursing herself to let you come here without anyone by your side. she was glad you were there and safe in her arms.

your sobs slowed a little and you were able to catch your breath “easy pretty girl, everything’s okay…”

you looked at rhea and you found comfort in her presence. her smile and sweet look that she reserved only for you made your heart flutter.

“you’re safe with me love, you don’t have to explain it now…you’re safe, i’m here and i’m not going anywhere” she whispered wiping the remaining tears away from your face.

you nodded - words weren’t needed in that moment - and softly melted into her touch.

you knew you were safe, you had her by your side and nothing was going to happen to you.

[eringobragh420]

➔ Pairing — Damian Priest ♡ f!Reader ➔ Summary — Damian’s girlfriend is pissed off. ➔ Word Count — 2.3k 🛑 Warnings — NSFW. D/s undertones, rough, unprotected p in v, slapping, cum. 18+ ➔ Notes — Spanish translations are at the end of the story provided by Google Translate. ➔ Taglist — If you'd like to be added, please click here! ➔ MASTERLIST, KINK LIST

“Don’t fucking touch me, Priest,” she says, yanking her arm out of his grasp before shoving his stupid, giant body as hard as she can. He stumbles back a couple steps, arms spread, palms to his girlfriend, and the unadulterated befuddlement painted on his face is enough to make her head explode.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Damian chuckles.

“What’s wrong with me?” she screams. Damian’s smirk is gone in an instant and his muscles stiffen, bringing him to his full terrifying height, but she can’t back down now. Not after what she just saw. Fuck him and the click he claims. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she continues yelling. They’re drawing attention—well, she is, anyway—but she couldn’t care less. She wants these people—his friends, coworkers, bosses, fans—to know exactly how much Damian Priest sucks, what kind of man is, what kind of boyfriend he is.

“Come here,” he grumbles, snatching her bicep, squeezing hard enough she knows there will be a bruise left behind, and he lifts, nearly bringing her feet off the ground, making it completely impossible for her to escape this time. She feels like her shoulder is dislocating the closer they get to the locker room, and she’s nearly flung into the door when it opens unexpectedly.

“Everything … okay here?” Seth Rollins asks, chocolate eyes passing back and forth between the couple.

“Everything’s fine,” Damian roars, swinging the tiny woman inside the empty locker room. As she goes by, she lifts her middle finger at Rollins, who instantly backs away, hands up, not wanting any trouble. Damian releases his death grip on her arm before kicking the door closed behind him. “Okay.” He sets his hands on his trim hips, shrugging, big eyes and raised brows. “Seriously. What’s your problem?”

Her lips purse as she massages her arm and considers his question. On one hand, she’s pissed because the asshole should know what he did. On the other hand, she could accuse him only to have him deny it, and then what does she do? On the other, other hand—a much smaller, less significant, barely existing other, other hand—there’s a chance she’s wrong, and while it would be good news, she would be embarrassed, and their relationship would be damaged … if it isn’t already. But then the image from earlier flashes in her brain and, not only does she want to die a little, she believes she knows the truth, so decides to stay the course.

“You’re—” She clears her throat because suddenly it’s scratchy and it hurts much like the pain in her chest. “You’re cheating on me.”

The allegation hangs heavily in the ether. She feels stupid actually saying the words. She never, in a million years, would have believed him to be the type, but she knows what her eyes saw. Rhea Ripley—the incomparable, exquisitely beautiful—Rhea Bloody Ripley in Damian’s strong arms, her muscular legs wrapped around his waist. They weren’t kissing, but they might as well have been, and somehow, in her crumbling mental capacity, that alone served as plenty of evidence for an affair.

“What?” Damian asks, the tone of his voice lowering several levels. “I’m—” He pauses, shaking his head. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

“Yeah, Damian, you’re fucking cheating on me,” she replies with more force than she thought she was capable of.

He nods, plump lips forming a deep frown. “And you thought acting like a psychopath in front of everyone we know was the way to handle it?”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” she seethes, nostrils flaring. Her skin crawls at the thought of the two of them together. She wants to vomit imagining a life without her Papí. She just can’t fucking believe they’ve ended up here.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Damian replies, bending over to her height. “You’re talkin’ nonsense!”

“I saw you, Damian. I fucking saw both of you.”

He shakes his head, shoulders coming up to his ears as he considers her statement. And then it dawns on him—she watches in real time as the lightbulb flashes on above his stupid man bun. “Are you talkin’ about Rhea?”

Her mind is blank, erased like a math problem on a chalkboard, leaving her heart in control of her body—and right now?—that heart is fractured, splintering, promising to disintegrate at any given moment. She feels her feet moving of their own volition, closing the space between them. She stands before him for half a moment at less than half his height before reeling back and slapping him across the face. The palm of her hand erupts with fire, tears she’s been battling since the moment she witnessed the embrace now streaming freely down her contoured cheeks. Damian stands frozen, looking somewhere over her head. The muscles in his jaws flex as he clenches his teeth, inhaling long and hard through his nose. He opens his mouth to spin a web of lies, so she slaps him again before he can get started. She’s crying now because of the pain in her hand and the pain behind her ribcage, so she slaps him once again because it’s his goddamn fault. Damian catches her wrist as she makes another attempt, and this is a brand new pain.

“Mírame!” he bellows, backing her up until she slams into the nearest wall. She loses her breath a bit, but Damian places his free hand behind her head to prevent any impact. His grip on her wrist is unrelenting as he holds it against her chest. She is miniscule in this awkward embrace, her eyes looking everywhere but where he wants her to. But when he bends his knees and dips down to her level, ducking his head until he’s in her line of sight, she’s forced to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna make you pay for those slaps in a minute …” he cautions. His hand starts applying pressure to the back of her head. “But first I have to tell you, because for some reason you need to fucking hear it, I’m not cheating on you.” 

She swallows, having her breath stolen again because she feels the truth of his words vibrating her bone marrow. She also feels the shame and embarrassment of being wrong. With her free hand she struggles to unclamp his vice-like grip from her wrist, and having had enough of her shit, Damian grabs both wrists this time and smashes them into the wall above her.

“Do you hear me?” he carries on, with quite a bit more hostility than she’s used to, shoving his knee into the wall between her legs. His knee pad becomes a cushion for her pussy—he’s still in his gear, still sweaty, because she accosted him right after his match—elevating her to the toes of her sneakers, and she is completely at the mercy of Damian Priest.

“Yes,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Good. Do you believe me? Hmm?” Capturing both wrists in one hand, he cups her chin with the other and touches his cheek to hers. “Do you believe that I’d rather die than hear someone else call me Papí?” It’s actually an incredibly sweet confession, but the venom in his tone scorches the honey in his words.

She believes him. By all that is good and holy in this world, she believes him and she is equal parts mortified, thankful, and contrite. She’d allowed her imagination to run wild because of an act of love between close friends, never once considering having a civil conversation with either of them about how it clearly made her uncomfortable. Did she just cause a rift in their relationship? Contaminate it with her jealousy? How many people is she going to have to apologize to? Seth, for sure, although he usually deserves any middle finger aimed in his direction. Christ, what’s she gonna say to Rhea?

“Damian,” she whispers, doing everything she can to not sound pathetic, and if her own ears are to be trusted, she is failing miserably.

“No,” he interrupts her, “you started this. I’m gonna fucking finish it. Now answer me.”

She grits her teeth, rolling her hips unconsciously because the position he’s put her in isn’t all that comfortable, probably by design, and suddenly she remembers how and why she’s propped on her boyfriend’s thigh. Even the slightest friction renders a groan from her. Damian tilts his head, eyes unforgiving, a sable shade she’s never seen before, and she regrets having made any noise at all, no matter how unintentional. His cheek is transforming into a furious vermillion, and the guilt that washes over her is nearly unbearable. She has no hand left to play, not that she did in the first fucking place, and she resigns herself to the punishment she’s about to receive. Well-deserved punishment, she understands.

“Yes,” she breathes, his eyes boring into her, chipping away any residual resolve she might have left inside.

“¿Si, que?” he booms, as if he expected the incorrect response. His anger hasn’t abated.

She can’t feel her fingers anymore and she’s struggling to maintain balance on Damian’s thigh. The slightest lean this way or that sends jolts of pleasure throughout her body, and it’s a losing battle trying to keep the satisfaction off her face. “Yes, Papí,” she says, “I believe you.”

He eyes her for a long moment, searching her face for any clue she might be lying or still angry. She keeps her own eyes open and on him, seemingly baring her soul before him, feeling more vulnerable now than she has in her entire life. At last he pushes away from her and the wall, releasing her wrists, removing his thigh from between her legs, and maybe she misses that last part a little bit.

“Now take those off—” He points at her denim shorts. “—and bend the fuck over.” And then he moves his arm to the right, pointing at a giant WWE trunk on wheels wedged against the corner of the room. She knows her place, and she has her orders.

She kicks her shorts toward him, standing before him in nothing but a pair of Nike hightops, a white thong, and a t-shirt-turned-tube-top that demands the audience to ALL RISE. He doesn’t even look at her body before nodding toward the trunk, and Jesus Christ, she’s in so much trouble. She passes him while rubbing her wrists and when she’s standing less than a foot from the trunk, she realizes she’s too short for this fucking thing too. She glances at Damian over her shoulder, and he’s stomping toward her, and her heart jumps into her throat. She hops onto the trunk, tips of her shoes barely kissing the floor just like when she was straddling Damian’s thigh.

The smack to her right ass cheek echoes throughout the locker room, same with the slap to her left, and she yelps.  Damian grabs her hair and pulls, arching her back into a spine-busting half-circle. He lets go, but before she can fall forward, one of his huge hands clamps over her mouth and holds her in position. With the other, he wrenches at her thong to pull it aside—she hears the material rip at the same time—then bends her leg at the knee and props it onto the trunk beside her.

“You know, the jealousy is kinda sexy on you,” Damian comments. Now she feels his hand working at his pants as it bumps against her sore ass. Then comes a different kind of smacking as he swats the sensitive skin with the underside of his rigid cock. He traces the head along both cheeks and along the crack, on down until she feels the huge, blunt head at her soaking entrance. “But don’t you ever fucking slap me again.”

Without warning, he is wholly sheathed inside her, his hips slamming into hers. She cries out from behind his hand, clutching his wrist with one hand as the other claws at the trunk in a desperate search for leverage to launch herself away. Damian is not a small man, in any way, shape, or form, so he’s always allowed her a few minutes to get used to his size. Not this time. This is her penance. He squeezes her hip, in full control of her body, and he’s simply using her pussy to get off now, without regard for her pleasure. She feels almost like a fleshlight, but her hormones are confused because she’s wet as fuck and, whether he likes it or not, she’s liable to get off just from him fucking her.

Damian stretches across her backside, her spine still bowed, and his teeth scrape across the shell of her ear as he grunts, “Say you’re fucking sorry.” He removes his hand from her mouth.

She gulps oxygen before panting, “I’m sorry, Papí. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He kisses her sweaty neck and sighs, hanging his head over her shoulder in unison with slowing the pummeling of her pussy. “I’m sorry, too. Lo siento, mi vida.” His rhythm starts speeding up following several moments. “But I am gonna cum in this pussy,” he advises, standing up straight, gripping both hips. “And you are gonna walk outta here with it dripping down your thighs.”

“Yes, Papí.”

“Because I fucking love you.”

She groans, bucking back against him. “I love you, baby.”

One final thrust and he makes good on his promise. He even squeezes the base of his cock to make sure every drop is inside her before pulling out. He’s much more gentle with her now, his enormous hands sliding up her back to her shoulder and arm so he can assist her into a standing position. As soon as she turns to him, she grabs his face and pulls his lips to hers. Their kiss is long, deliberate, and by the time they’re finished, his hands are cupping her face and hers are clutching his neck, and goddamn it, she’s so fucking stupid. But love makes people do crazy things.

“Now what do I do?” she asks, holding up the tattered side of her thong. Damian inspects the damage, then takes the lacey material in both hands and rips it into several pieces, which fall one by one to the floor.

“Problem solved.”

જ⁀➴°⋆ Mírame — Look at me જ⁀➴°⋆ Si, que — Yes, what જ⁀➴°⋆ Papí — Daddy જ⁀➴°⋆ Lo siento — I'm sorry

[harmshake]

Featuring: Damian Priest x Fem Reader Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, el campeón having his way with you just a little. 🥹 Word Count: 1.3k

Happy reading! Read my other Damian stories here, if you'd like. ✨

After a long flight, a long day, a long event, a long night, and even longer press conference following the Clash at the Castle, you and your boyfriend, Damian, couldn't wait to check into your hotel, fall into bed together, and get some sleep. The sheets were fresh, soft, and now warm because you both cuddled up beneath them. Your bodies were bare, no need for pajamas as after you both showered, you were too tired to put them on. You wrapped yourselves up in each other instead, his nose nestled to the back of your head with his lips pressing soft kisses to your nape as he said good night and held you to his hulking chest in his strong arms.

You were half-asleep but only half as the rest of you was tingling and still awake with the delicate closeness of your bodies huddled together, his warm breath on your skin, and his warmer and bare flesh growing hard nudged up against your backside. That you couldn't not notice in your sleepy daze, especially when he let out the sweetest, softest breath of a moan when you backed up onto him a bit more as you tried to get even more comfortable, your bottom caressing him and making him even harder for you. That was enough for you to get wet, just feeling him, the ease of it surprising you as a small yawn escaped you before a tiny moan did when he gently rolled you onto your back with his arm underneath your head like a pillow, his other arm around your hip as his hand slipped between your thighs. His breath was soft like his touch, pulling a little gasp from you as he delicately teased and coaxed more and more of your wetness to stick to the pads of his thick fingertips until he could fit his middle one inside of you.

“Damian…” you purred quietly with your eyes still half-closed, stirring out of that sleepy little haze now that it was clear he wasn't sleepy. The slight shock in your tone made him smile, you could feel it as his lips pressed to the side of your face with a little kiss to your cheek.

“Hm, baby? You want me to stop?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper, the bass of it dwelling in you as did his finger that was oh, so steady to work in deeper, work in little circles until you felt his knuckle pressing against you. Your moan did the talking for you and he smirked again, another kiss to your jaw and then on your lips to lap at your next sweet sound as his tongue met yours, as he began to pump just so gently on your spot. He listened to your moans, your sweet, little sounds, as they grew hitched and pitched, following your body when your hips tilted up to press yourself to his palm, your hands slipping on the sheets for something to cling to as you started to lose yourself. 

“No…don’t…” It happened so quickly, the slow burn of that good feeling hitting you like rapid fire and making you finally cling to your boyfriend as your thighs tried to close around his wrist. Yet Damian knew what you wanted, knew what you could take…his touch a messy yet fluid stroke where you wanted it as he inhaled every moan you whimpered for him with a smoldering kiss. 

“Mm, open up for me, baby…just feel me. Doesn’t that feel nice?” That was Damian's favorite thing to do no matter the weariness of the night because how could he resist you like this after resisting you the entire day? Making you moan and kissing your lips to shut you up playfully as he knew you couldn't hold back, knew you didn't want him to hold back, either. He pulled you onto his lap to straddle him then, his back resting up against the headboard as you rested against him, your lips moving together as your hips did, too. Because even though he was trying to make you go crazy at nearly two a.m., you still wanted a little more…you could take a little more. 

Bodies seamed together with your chest flushed against him, his hands swallowing your waist, helping you to ride him, take him, until you felt a little delicious, a little delirious, slipping back into that madness as your head fell back and gave him room to plant kisses on the length of your throat and along your collarbone. The soft glow of streetlights through curtains shrouding the hotel room absorbed your softer sounds that turned into desperate whines as Damian made it so, so good with his big hands all over you, unable to get enough of you, holding you down on him, massaging your breasts, rubbing your back, and cupping your bottom in his firm grasp. You gripped the muscle of his broad shoulders as he carefully bounced you up and down on it with his own short, grinding thrusts beneath you, watching how it made your eyes roll a little, because he knew you could take more…wanted to see what you looked liked when you gave him everything, until you buried your face in his neck and cried his name. 

“Please…Damian…”

"Mi linda conejita…you sound so pretty."

And when you couldn't think straight from your body tingling anew with pleasure that had you more exhausted than when you laid down, he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your back, your hair falling over the foot of the bed, his hands on the sheets on both sides of your body, his thrusts still grinding slowly, grinding back into you and driving deep and driving you mad as he took his time picking up the pace. You squeezed your thighs around his waist, tried to squeeze your hands on his chest, and you whined that it was too much, that he was too much, feeling him pounding now, that your voice cracked each time you moaned to him. 

“I can't...mm, papi. I can't take it.”

But Damian knew your moans were greedy, knew you could, and would, give yourself to him. The long day and night at work and the cameras and the professionalism and the abstaining from touching you all melted away so he could give himself to you, too. Just a bit feral for you...his lips on your face, kissing you, moaning with you. His arms around you now, holding you there, keeping you still, pinning you down by your thighs spread on the sheets as you trembled in bliss below him. And his strokes hitting that spot, loving on that spot, loving on you as your bodies melted together.

“Yes, you can, baby. Papi loves you...please, baby. Cum for me.”

His voice rasped and cracked now with his own pleasure as you surrendered and fell apart around him, his thrusts slowing if only to feel it, feel you, as you filled his ears with your angelic moans that made him harder, made him start to dive deeper. Damian couldn't stop himself if he tried, not when you were so beautiful like this, driving him wild now. 

“Where do you want Papi to cum?” he groaned roughly on your mouth that neither of you could barely hold together for a kiss as sweet exhaustion from ecstasy took you both over.

“Inside...” You could barely breathe the word, your lungs only good for moaning for him, crying for him.

“That’s what my baby wants?” He was no better as every sound that escaped him was from you, for you as he filled you with heavy strokes you felt in your soul, each one ending with a moan that whispered your name like he was casting a spell on you.

But you knew he already had...he and his love were hypnotic. Damian was yours, all yours, and you were his, all his, his soft grunts in your ear telling you so as he kissed your neck and held your wrists to the bed. It was just one of those nights where it took him longer than he wanted to show it, and he couldn’t let you go to bed without the reminder…

“You're mine, conejita. Por siempre, mi amor.”

. . .

Wake Up Love

Revamped this fic from a previous one I'd written, posted, and deleted, but I like this version much better. 🥰

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[harleyvaleska19]

Stop my heart 💔 😭 my Terror Twins