#elite x y/n

[bumblesimagines]

seeing you with them... it made me so mad. i can't explain the feeling.

Ivan

seeing you with them... it made me so mad. i can't explain the feeling.

Pronoun: they/them/theirs, gender neutral!reader

trying to clean my drafts so the next few starters are kinda old

"This isn't a good idea, Menci." You sighed into your glass of whiskey, watching the youngest Blanco scan the club for her... girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend? Fling? You hardly knew what the two girls considered each other now but the longing looks, teasing, and Mencia's clinginess spoke volumes as to how they felt about each other. Mencia kept a hand on your bicep, digging her nails into the fabric of your shirt in frustration from time to time. "I'm telling you, Menci, you need to-"

"There she is!" Mencia grinned widely, snatching the cup from your hand and swiftly drinking the contents. Her nose crinkled slightly and she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her lipstick miraculously staying perfectly put. She set the cup down on the counter and slipped her hand down to your wrist, practically dragging you off the barstool and toward an area on the dancefloor where Rebeka could easily spot her in your embrace. 

"Doesn't Rebe box in her free time? I don't want a black eye-"

"You'll be fine," Mencia assured you, setting her hands on your neck and glancing back in Rebeka's direction. Her smile widening informed you the girl in question had likely noticed you and Mencia, and you sighed internally, wondering how you'd let Mencia wrangle you into helping her make Rebeka jealous. It was childish and impulsive, but things always were when Mencia was involved. You pursed your lips at the girl and she clicked her tongue, giggling softly as she planted a kiss on your cheek. "If anything happens-"

"Mencia."

"If anything happens, I'll tell her it was my idea. Nothing's going to happen to you, okay? I promise." Mencia bit the tip of her tongue, more giggles leaving her. An unamused huff escaped you, the buzz of everything you'd drank throughout the night finally beginning to take effect. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking in the glittery eye makeup she'd chosen for the night. It wouldn't be the first time you'd made out with Mencia, hell, it likely wouldn't be the last either. So, with one last sigh, you nodded.

"Fine. But if I end up in the hospital because of you, you'll owe me." You murmured, pressing your forehead against hers and feeling her body shake with airy laughter. Mencia made a hum of acknowledgment and placed her hand over your cheek, pressing her lips against yours. She tasted of cold whiskey and bad ideas. You slipped your arms snugly around her waist and felt her nails lightly scrape the back of your head.

"Babes!" The voice in your ear startled you into pulling away, your head turning to look at Isadora and Ivan. The platinum blonde stared at you with slightly widened, annoyed eyes, her shiny lips slightly curling. Ivan's gaze flickered between you and Mencia, his fingers curling and uncurling before he broke away from Isadora and made his way through the crowd toward the bathrooms. Isadora turned toward you with a scowl, snapping her fingers in your face. "What are you waiting for? Go after him!"

"Why-"

"Go!" 

"Alright, alright," You pulled away completely from an equally puzzled Mencia, weaving through the groups of dancing club-goers until you reached the bathroom, spotting Ivan slipping into a stall and closing it in Patrick's face. The sight would've amused you if it weren't for how distressed Ivan had appeared. Patrick craned his neck to look at you over his shoulder, a scowl appearing on his face at the sight of you. 

"What'd you do to him?" He asked accusingly, turning around to face you and pressing his back against the stall door. One might've viewed it as a protective stance, a friend wanting to keep another safe, but you knew Patrick's 'overprotectiveness' was only due to his painfully one-sided feelings toward the boy in the stall. You might've found it pitiful if you hadn't hated the guy's guts since he ruined your best friend's relationship by inserting himself into it shamelessly. Patrick had been indifferent toward your distaste until Ivan stepped foot on campus and seemed more keen on being your friend over his. Watching his face fall each time Ivan brushed him off was a hit better than any drug.

"Bite me." You snapped at him. 

"Hey," Ivan sniffled. "Don't fight. I... I want to talk to (Y/N), Patrick."

"But-" 

"You heard him." You smirked and Patrick's jaw clenched, his shoulder roughly colliding with yours as he stormed by you. You rolled your eyes at his retreating form, one hand rubbing your shoulder and the other reaching for the stall door. You tugged it open just enough for you to slip inside before closing it behind you and facing the sun-kissed boy. 

"Hey." Ivan greeted weakly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffling at him. He cleared his throat, uncharacteristically timidly fiddling with his fingers. If you'd learned anything about Ivan Carvalho in the few months you'd known him, it was that he was anything but timid. He was confident, cocky, yet overall a sweet guy. 

"What's wrong, Ivan? What happened?" You asked him softly, taking slow steps toward him until you stood in front of him and gently took his hands into yours. Ivan chuckled softly, his fingers curling around yours. He inhaled deeply and tilted his head up to look at you, his adams apple bobbing when he swallowed thickly. Your brows furrowed at his nervous demeanor. "Are you oka-"

"I think I love you." The words tumbled out of his mouth, forcing you into stunned silence as your ever-growing tipsy state rendered your brain into a confused mush. Ivan laughed forcibly, his gaze flickering away nervously. "I... I've liked you since I first saw you in class. I- I thought you knew. I thought you knew and- I... seeing you with Mencia... it made me so mad. I can't explain the feeling. It hurt. I guess this is how Patrick feels like, huh? Must be karma."

"Ivan-"

"Can I kiss you? I... I just want to know what it feels like."

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Why Not All Three? — Elite Trine x GN Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff, Poly || They/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Managing a relationship with all three of the iconic Decepticon Seekers wasn't a very easy task, with how much they tended to fight one another in the beginning. They each deployed different tactics of Seeker courting to try and catch your optic above the others. They thought they kept this all hidden from you, but you could sense it almost immediately

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It took quite a lot of time to talk to all of them and communicate that no, you didn't have a favorite, and yes, you liked all of them equally. After being reassured of that, you explained the concept of polyamory to them in length. After quite a lot of questions, they agreed to the idea

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Skywarp likes doing acts of service to show his affection. He'll teleport around, grabbing you anything you want, even if that means snatching out of the servos of someone else. He loves displaying his claws especially whenever he can, via scratching things open for you or subtly tracing them along your frame

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Thundercracker prefers quality time. He likes sitting with you on your berth, or leaning against you as you work. Nothing better than spending as much time with you as possible, as he says frequently. He's prone to falling into recharge while leaning on you. Outside of that, he's eager to show his strength to you, offering to spar with you often

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Starscream is big on words of affirmation. He'll tell you all the time how much he sees in you, and how much value you have for him to see you as a sparkmate. Definitely the type to brag about being sparkbonded to you to others whenever he can. He thinks his best feature is his pointed denta, so he makes sure to flash them to you whenever possible with his wide grins

ᯓᡣ𐭩 No matter how much you devoted yourself to spending individual time with all of them in equal intervals, you came to learn that they all share the trait of becoming easily jealous. They kept being backhanded to one another, one always being smug for having your attention at the moment and the others resenting

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One of the best ways to calm them was to build a system where you all shared a nest together. The three Seekers collaborated their efforts to make a nest perfect for all of you, made of the best materials they could each find. Once you began recharging with all three of them at the same time using it, they calmed down greatly, so it became nightly routine

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Starscream likes it best when you tend to his wings. Buffing, petting, tracing, anything like that. He's very inclined to showing his emotions through them, so feeling you appreciate them brings content purring to his voicebox, and it's an easy way to lull him to sleep

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Skywarp relaxes the most when you hold him close. Feeling your presence all around him is comforting, and he always leans into your proximity whenever he's by you to signal as much. Sometimes if he's in a bad mood he'll just crawl into your lap as a silent demand for the reassurance

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Thundercracker loves his helm being pet. He feels soothed by the repetitive motions, and tilts his helm up into your servo whenever you do it. He tends to return the favor by petting your arms or lower back in response, always leaning on your shoulder or chassis

[usomads]

𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢… 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔲𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔶

♡ about me

hello, and welcome to my masterlist! my name is mads, i'm 23, and i go by she/her pronouns. i haven't been writing that long but i figured i'd go ahead and organize my page a bit to make it easier to navigate!

♡ rules

all of my stories contain content that is not suitable for underage readers- please remember you MUST be 18+ to request, follow me, or engage with my content. ageless/underage accounts will be blocked.

♡ who i write for

i write for both wwe and aew!

wwe:

◦ og bloodline (roman reigns, jey uso, jimmy uso)

◦ new bloodline (solo sikoa and tama tonga)

◦damian priest

◦ dominik mysterio

aew:

◦ kenny omega

◦ will ospreay

◦ jon moxley

◦ hangman adam page

requests are currently OPEN!

◦ wwe masterlist

◦ aew masterlist

[madhatterbri]

Loyalty Lies | W.O.

Summary: Will. Smut. American Revolution AU.

Happy birthday to my favoritest, magicalest fart. ❤️ May you have many dreams with a boy band, Will Ospreay, for the rest of your days. @magicalbuttertarts . Thank you for always being there and being so supportive and laughing at my shitty jokes. Please check her masterlist out here.

Will Ospreay Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @hodgepodge-musings @magicalbuttertarts @99hook

Will stood in the dark away from the shine of the moonlight that peered through the windows. Anyone who happened to find him in the house would spell disaster for him and the lady of the house. A British soldier in the home of a single woman. He would be hanged before the sun rose from the east.

Footsteps made him hold his breath. His heart pounded in his chest. He hoped and prayed that his love would be coming through those doors. Not taking any chances, he grabbed his pistol and pointed to the door.

Y/N walked through the door, humming happily. Tonight was a success. She managed to get more Intel from the drunks at the tavern. Drinks made even the most noble men betray their secrets. Men were too easy.

A satchel rested on her table. She grabbed the letters from under her skirts and kissed them. It had been months since she last saw Will. They were playing a dangerous game, and his absence was excused. The letters were then placed in the satchel. By morning, they would be hidden in a hole in a tree to be picked up by a British soldier.

"What does a bloke have to do to get a kiss like that?" Will asked.

She jumped at the sudden interruption of silence. Her hands placed over her chest as she tried to calm down. After regaining her wits, she looked towards his direction. A smile tugged at her lips. "I don't see any war here to stop him from getting one."

Will had been sneaking to her house for months whenever the war drew him back to New York. One night, he foraged around her isolated cabin for food. The rations were low, but his need for food was high. She caught him and told him to come inside. That night, she made him stew. They formed a friendship which then blossomed into a relationship.

Their night started with a simple kiss, followed by another, and another. Soon, clothes were stripped and left forgotten on the floor in a trail to her bed. Kisses went further and further south. His face buried between her legs. She bit her lip and gripped the pillow. Her other hand gripped his blonde locks. Will's tongue and fingers explored what no man had ever done before. His name fell from her lips like a prayer.

Nights like these didn't happen often, but when they did, they made the most of it. Satisfied with pleasing his woman, he kissed back up to her lips. Her moans muffled by his lips when he thrusted inside of her. His thrusts were slow and steady. He always took his time. A part of him was lost in the notion that this could last forever if he went slower. The two of them in a cabin in the woods together forever.

Her fingernails scratched his back as he hissed against her. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Fingers snaked through his hair. His thrusts picked up as he felt their end near. His hips hesitated slightly when he wasn't sure where to finish.

"Inside," she told him after feeling his hesitation.

"Are you... are you sure?" He stammered. A woman getting pregnant without a man would be a major scandal. Her getting pregnant by a British soldier would be disastrous.

She hummed in response. A few more thrusts and he stilled inside of her. Her body tensed around him as they reached the peak of their orgasm. Will pulled out of her. She moved to the side lazily as he lay next to her. He enveloped her in his muscular arms.

They stared into each other's eyes. Their tones hushed as they talked about their future after the war. A little place such as hers filled with the pitter patter of the tiny feet of their children. He often remembered their talks whenever he found himself on the battlefield. They always helped push him through.

She was the first to fall asleep. Her head nestled into his chest. His fingers traced lazy shapes into her shoulder. Will laid on his back as he stared at the ceiling. His eyes suddenly started to close. The only clue of a war going on outside rested on a table a few feet away from them.

The secrets of top rebel military officials left on the wooden table. Secrets obtained by a woman betraying her country for her British soldier with their hopes that the war would come to an end.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

HE KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING

When I saw this I violently started screaming, thank you AEW figure fighters 🙏🏼

[thecordelialetters]

The Bionic and the Ballerina Pt.3

wc:1,132

Chase Davenport x fem!reader

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Thankfully the week had passed and with the help of Chase, you were able to ace your history test.

Your friendship with Bree was going smoothly. When you had time the two of you would gossip about others, talk about boys, or the latest episode of Vampire Diaries. Your Saturday morning was bleak, your older brother who had become your guardian, was covering a coworker's shift, leaving you alone in the tiny apartment you shared. A heavy sigh left your lips as you sipped on a cup of jasmine tea. Buzz buzz...

Your phone screen lit up with a picture of Chase. His contact image was a photo of the two of you during lunch when you had accidentally matched colors. His smile matched yours as both of you faced the camera. Seeing his arm around you in the photo brought a familiar heat to your core. The message read, "Tasha and Davenport are heading out, want to come over?" Excitedly you changed out of your pajamas leaving the house in a pink skirt and white blouse. With no time to do your hair, you clipped it up leaving a few strands in your face.

Chase jolted at the sound of the doorbell and hurried to open it. The moment his eyes fell on you, a breath caught in his throat. You looked... different—your hair swept up, framing your face in a way that softened your features, lending you an air of delicate elegance.

As you stepped past him and into the room, his gaze dropped to your blouse. Resting just above your chest, a gold, heart-shaped locket gleamed, rising and falling with the subtle rhythm of your breath. The gentle rise and fall seemed to command his attention, while the sweet fragrance of your perfume wrapped around him, dizzying in its allure.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, the words escaping him in a hushed, almost reverent tone, as though the sight of you demanded nothing less.

You took a seat on the couch as Davenport and Tasha came in carrying their luggage. "This is so exciting! I've never been to Australia before!" You stood back up to greet them, "You're going to love it! The hiking and beaches are to die for." Another voice from the door spoke up, "Maybe you'll like it so much you won't come back!"

Tasha rolled her eyes at the AI before continuing, "Honey do you have the plane tickets?" "Plane tickets? We are taking my fully automated private jet." He grinned. You poked Chase's side, "Oh lala fancy."

"Leo this is your chance to prove you're responsible enough to stay home without us." Leo looked baffled and pointed to the siblings, "me what about them?"

Davenport looked at you cautiously, "They're responsible enough...you on the other hand were designed to break things." He eyed Leo down. Leo pushed the couple out the door, "Don't worry it'll be fine enjoy your trip!"

The minute they left Adam and Bree shouted "Woo party!" and left to do their own plans, leaving you and Chase...and Leo. Chase side-eyed Leo as if saying, "How about you beat it so I can hang out with the girl I like." It appeared Leo wasn't as receptive and stayed in place. The three of you sat on the couch in painful silence before Leo decided to get up and play with his toys/action figures, leaving you, Chase, and a large gap between the two. You turned to Chase, "I know you and your family are coming to see my show next week, but would you like to see what I've been practicing so far?" He nodded eagerly. You stood up and played the music for your solo on your phone. Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out. In. Out.

Ballet was more than movement; it was your escape, your body bending and stretching in ways that felt both impossible and freeing, guided not by thought but by the rhythm that pulsed through the music. The Rose Adagio—your long-awaited solo—was your moment to demonstrate the intimate conversation between body and melody.

Chase’s gaze never wavered. Every spin, every leap you made seemed to pull him deeper into your world, as if he, too, was part of the dance. His eyes followed you with an intensity that felt like a silent partner, mirroring your every step. Each graceful leap was weightless, landing so softly it was as if the air itself caught you. As the music swelled, you moved with a passionate fluidity, your skirt sweeping through the air like petals caught in a gentle breeze. The symphony crescendoed, and even from across the room, you could feel him sway with the rising tide of emotion in your dance as if the music had tethered him to you.

You stopped breathing slightly harder, "Well um...what did you think?" nervously shuffling your hands together. Chase snapped out of his reverie and took one step before playing his arms around your lefts and lifting you up, spinning you around. "That was the most amazing dance I've ever seen, the way you move was like a swan descending into the water, it was like... it was like the feeling of the first autumn breeze." He rambled on with many beautiful comparisons but you were too busy staring into his eyes. Overcome with happiness, you grabbed his face and softly planted your lips on his.

Chase paused before leaning in, one hand on your waist the other holding your jaw. This was no kiss of lust but one of appreciation for each other. His heart thumped against his chest, deeper and deeper.

The smell of his natural cologne invaded your senses, his lips pressed against yours, your noses brushing up occasionally. Your hand grabbed his hard muscle the other lightly resting on his stomach. You sunk in his embrace, letting his lips brush against yours before interlocking again. Your hand moved up and down his waist feeling the heat of his skin. Your thumb mindlessly toying with his waistband. The two of you broke apart immediately letting the forgotten air fill your lungs. The phantom feeling of the kiss lingered as you took sight of his flushed face.

"I love you." He blurted out.

Your eyes widened. He stammered, "I mean no I don't, I mean I like you but we also just met, and I love you?" You stepped back, "I'm sorry Chase look I really like you but..." You stopped not knowing what to say back. It wasn't that you DIDN'T love him, but rather you didn't know what love was. This wasn't your first rodeo with a boy, but your previous relationship was nothing like this one. The first boy you ever "went out" with was immature and only liked you for your body. Rather than waiting for you to finish, Chase turned around and ran. You stood there not knowing what to do. It would be weird to run after him in his own house. You packed up your stuff and left, you'd try to talk to him tomorrow.

Taglist: @mel-vaz

[kitkat238984]

Love Means A Free Babysitter

Summary: As a single mother of a three-year-old, you are constantly struggling to keep him under control, and boy are you glad Tyler was there at Rampage when you needed help. It worked out better than you expected.

TW: An annoyingly adorable child. You either love him or you hate him.

“Asher! Wait for me, please! Don’t run off!” You called for your three-year-old son who thought it would be a fun idea to make you chase him around backstage. 

The babysitter you’d hired had cancelled a mere hour before she was due to arrive at the hotel, so you made a quick call to Tony Khan’s team to ask if you could bring your son to Rampage and he reluctantly agreed so long as you kept him under control. 

“Oh yes of course. I promise you he’s an angel. You won’t even notice he’s here”. 

An ear-piercing shriek echoed through the hall you were running through and you ignored the shocked, puzzled looks thrown your way. So much for being unnoticeable. It probably would have been easier to catch up with him if you weren’t carrying all his toys, snacks, his blanket, your own water bottle, and your gym bag with your ring gear in. 

“Asher…”, you warned. “If you don’t stop running, mommy will be very angry with you”. Still nothing. You swore this kid had as much energy as if he’d drank dozens of energy drinks and eaten a bowlful of sugar. 

If everyone here didn’t know you were one of the professional wrestlers, they would most likely mistake you for a crazed fan. 

You didn’t take your eyes off Asher for one second, cautious of where he was running to, not wanting to find him somehow running through somewhere and into the arena. 

However, you gave an audible sigh of relief when a figure appeared from around the corner, causing Asher to bump into their legs and ultimately stopping him in his tracks, now wordlessly gazing up at the person’s face. 

As you drew closer you realised that the person your son had crashed into was Hook - or Tyler as you and some others preferred to call him - who returned the intent gaze into your child’s eyes, but his eyes filled with perplexion as he glanced around him trying to figure out where this random kid came from. 

“Uhh…”, he uttered before you closed the distance and placed your hand over Asher’s shoulder and pulled him away from your coworker. 

“Tyler, I’m so sorry about him. I’ve been trying to catch up with him for five minutes already and he just won’t stay still”. You managed to speak whilst catching your breath, proving difficult with everything you were holding as well as keeping Asher at bay who was now clinging and leaning against your leg. 

“Uh it’s cool. What’s with the kid?” He asked with no hesitation. 

You could see the obvious bewilderment in his features, glancing back and forth between yourself and Asher, and giggled before answering his question. 

“This is Asher. My son”, you told him, and he responded with five seconds of lip-mimed stuttering until speaking up again. 

“Since when were you a mom? You’ve never said anything before”. 

It was true that you’d never told Tyler before that you had a young child to take care of, but that was only reasoned with the fact that you never spoke to one another all that much. The closest you’d get to a conversation would be a few remarks on someone’s match in the viewing room or in one of the locker rooms. Your paths simply never seemed to cross naturally very often. 

“Since three years ago. I fell pregnant at eighteen, gave birth at nineteen, and now I’m a very tired mother and professional wrestler”. 

Hook felt he needed more than just a couple of seconds between bombshells to wrap his head around this discovery. You were a mom of a three-year-old boy. You were younger than him and had somehow managed to climb up the ladder of success into AEW whilst carrying around a baby in the background. 

He felt a sudden rush of respect that he’d never had before. Truthfully, he always thought you had a few screws in your head loose as you always scurried about everywhere and constantly looked like you had somewhere you needed to be. It had never the slightest bit bothered him and it never made him think any less of you, but now knowing there was a reason behind your madness made him feel guilty for thinking such things about you. 

“Can’t the father look after him?” he asked. 

“Oh um no”, you told him plainly. “He left me when he found out I was pregnant. Thought he was too important to deal with a child”. 

Then he felt worse than ever. You were a single mom, juggling everything all at once. How were you even sane? 

Frustration was visible in Tyler’s demeanour, evident in his clenched fists, pressing into his thighs and a small wrinkle in his nose which did not go unnoticed by you. 

“I’m kind of glad he left actually”, you continued. “I was trying to find a way out for months. He wasn’t a very nice person and would have been an even worse dad”. 

He appeared to relax slightly and you were thankful that he hadn’t burst into some fit of rage, however, what confused you was that he was angry in the first place after telling him about your ex. 

You hadn’t realised he cared so much about single mothers, let alone care about yourself. You wouldn’t exactly call Tyler a close friend so it surprised you that he would… well… actually give a damn. Whatever his reason for caring was, it brought you happiness that he felt the same way you did when your ex told you he was leaving you. 

“Anyway”, you snapped out of your thoughts. “We’d better get going if I actually want to fight tonight”. 

“The show doesn’t start for like four hours”. 

“It will take that long”. 

Hook gave you a questioned look before stuffing his hands back into the pocket of his hoodie and putting one of his earbuds in his ear. 

“I might see you later then. Good luck with uh… that…” He nodded towards Asher beside you and walked away behind you. 

“Thanks?” Was he scared of Asher or something? 

Taking advantage of the opening in front of him to continue causing chaos, you found yourself running after Asher yet again. 

“I swear that child is on steroids”, you huffed. 

—

Before even having gone in the ring yet, it felt like it had been the most stressful match day of your life, and you were waiting patiently in the viewing room with Asher standing in between your legs whilst you were handing him surprise tickle attacks. 

At least he wasn’t running wildly and screaming. 

You weren’t alone in the room as Hook was sitting on the opposite side with his earphones in and distracted by whatever was happening on the screen. You were a bit too preoccupied with your son to notice anything, even the frequent glances Hook gave the both of you. All you really knew and cared about at that moment was that you were to have a quick match with Saraya and that you were going to win. 

“Hey hey hey, Asher”, you addressed your littlun to get his attention. “When mommy’s done here we’re going back to the hotel and you, mister, are going straight to bed. Okay? So you’ve got to be a good boy”. 

“I am a good boy”, he said, nodding his head. 

“Good”. You kissed his head and reached down to Asher’s bag to pull out a bag of carrot sticks since it had been a while since he ate his dinner. 

As you were doing so, the door to the viewing room opened and you spun your head to see - as you expected - one of the producers. “Y/n, you’re needed now”. 

“Alright. I’ll be there in just a minute”. 

You quickly gave Asher his carrot sticks and got him to settle on a chair with his ipad so he should have been fine there for a while, however, you didn’t feel comfortable just leaving him alone the way he was. You had hoped that someone around you would be available, but one look at Hook made you feel… reluctant. 

As funny as it was that he called your son ‘that’, you shamedly didn’t have much faith in his babysitting abilities, and you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. 

But in all honesty, you didn’t care too much. You were sure he wouldn’t let anything bad happen which was all you needed to know, and taking another look at Asher, he seemed pretty absorbed in his game so… 

“Hey, Tyler”, you called and he raised an eyebrow up at you. “Can you look after Asher for me? I won’t be long and he’ll be good. Thanks. Bye. I owe you”. 

He was in safe hands. 

Rushing to get out of there, you kissed Asher’s head and ran through the door to get to your match, leaving a dumbfounded Hook staring at the empty doorway where you were just standing.

‘What the fuck just happened?’ He thought. 

Hook unfortunately knew absolutely nothing about children and so felt very awkward about the situation he was forced in, however, he thought maybe if he kept completely silent and didn’t move then the kid wouldn’t notice he was there and that his mom had disappeared. 

Of course, that didn’t last long. After a couple of minutes, Asher’s head poked up and looked for his mom but found only the man with the fluffy hair staring at his phone. 

“Where’s mommy?” he asked, which attracted Hook’s attention. 

Here goes nothing. “She’s in the ring. She’ll be back soon”. 

“What’s a ring?” 

“It’s where people go to fight”. 

Asher looked puzzled and tilted his head to the side as if he were a puppy. 

“Mommy said no fighting. That’s not good”. 

“Well your mommy fights. Everyone here fights”. 

“Mommy doesn’t fight”. He began aggressively shaking his head. “Mommy’s a good girl”. 

A smirk turned into a chuckle at the thought of you telling your own child that fighting is naughty and there you were on the screen throwing someone’s head against the padding of a corner post. 

“I think mommy’s cappin’. Look up there”. He pointed to the screen where you were now being thrown onto the canvas with Saraya’s foot making contact with the arms that covered your head. 

Hook had assumed Asher would feel offended that you had lied to him yet think what you were doing was cool like he had when he first saw his dad wrestle, but when he looked over, what he feared would happen, happened. He was never good with kids so making one cry caused him probably the most panic he’s ever felt, even more than when he’s been pinned and desperately tried to find an outing. 

“Hey hey, kid, don’t cry. Your mom’s fine. She’s not getting hurt”, he said, rushing to Asher’s side, crouching to his level and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“I don’t like it”. 

Asher’s whines alone were enough to make Hook’s heart break. What would you say if you knew he’d just made your son cry? 

He needed to fix this before you came back. He needed to fix this now. Fast. 

“Uhh it’s only pretend. It’s not real. They’re just… tickling each other”. 

“Tickling? Why are they tickling?” 

“Because it’s fun. They uh tickle each other until one of them gets too tired to carry on”. 

That’d have to do. At least the tears had stopped now. 

“Mommy being tickled?” 

“Sure”. 

“I want to do that”. He pointed to the TV and stared at Hook with large hopeful eyes. 

It wasn’t his position to start play-fighting with your son, let alone being the one to tell him what you do for a living, but the thought of a little kid wanting him to teach him wrestling made him forget about all that. He wanted to teach your kid the child-friendly version of wrestling and that was what he was going to do. 

“Alright. So have you ever had a tickle fight before?” He nodded. “Well it’s just that but you have to try and get me on the floor and for me to stay there for three seconds. Can you do that?” 

He nodded again with a gigantic smile that brought Hook some pride. He was about to guide Asher to the first move, but he beat him to it, flinging himself at Tyler who in turn flew back and hit the ground. 

His instinct would have been to push him off, but he had to restrain himself from being aggressive. 

In fact, he almost laughed when Asher made a poor attempt to tickle his neck. Three-year-olds were apparently terrible ticklers. 

“One two three”, the small person said, clearly not knowing how long one second is yet with how fast he was, but Hook went along with it anyway. 

“Heeeyyy I want a rematch. I wasn’t ready”. 

Hook surprised himself with how well he was with Asher and how easy it was to get along. It was pretty amusing how innocent and naive he was. He honestly thought that he could tell the kid anything and he’d believe him. 

Whilst ‘fighting’, he also noticed elements of Asher’s appearance and behaviour, small habits that easily resembled you. The little sparkle in his E/C eyes were the complete replica of your own, and the dimples in his cheeks was something he’d seen before many times when you’ve laughed at something someone said. 

There were parts about Asher that didn’t quite match, like the hair colour was completely different to yours which he presumed was from the dickhead ex-boyfriend. However, Hook didn’t hate the way it looked on Asher like he thought it should. It suited him and brought out the good in something wicked. 

He didn’t want to sound like a creep and say he’d been staring at you long enough to notice all these little things about you, but… well yeah he’d been staring. Truthfully, he thought you were a beautiful, sexy sight to behold which is why he was so surprised to see you with a child. 

How had he not noticed? 

How the fuck did you manage to carry that for nine months?! You looked fucking incredible for someone who had given birth and it only gave him another thing to love about you, that you were strong-willed and ambitious enough to make it this far with a baby. 

Again he was pinned to the floor on his front with Asher sitting on his back. If anyone saw Hook in that moment - pretend screaming and waving his arms and legs as if he was struggling - he would probably die of embarrassment. He had a cool reputation to keep up. But with his head facing away from the door, he didn’t notice that you were standing in the doorway enjoying the show from the sidelines. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at this sight for two reasons: you were happy Asher seemed to be having a great time (and would sleep really easily that night), and the smugness you felt seeing Tyler’s complete personality change from what you’ve ever known from him. 

“Ahh you’ve pinned me”, he cried. “Remember the count. Remember the count”. 

Asher giggled and counted to three on his fingers. As much as you wanted to continue watching the cute show, you knew you had to make yourself known. 

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” you called out and both boys whipped their heads to the sound of your voice. 

“Mommyyyyy!” Asher immediately jumped off Tyler’s back and ran to you, tightly wrapping his arms around your legs, a sign of affection which you kindly returned. 

“Have you two been having fun?” you asked. 

“Yeah! Yeah! I just learning wrestling”. 

“Oh really now? And who’s been teaching you that?” 

Asher looked back and pointed to Hook who was now sitting up and leaning against the chairs, running his hands through his hair trying to fix it. 

“Tyler taught you now, did he? How about you play with your cars for a bit and calm down, yeah? I think Tyler’s tired”. 

You and he knew that was all but the truth, but Asher had to come down from his energy surge somehow. 

“You told him? Really?” you asked, walking towards the chairs Hook was pulling himself onto and sitting beside him. 

“In my defence, I didn’t know you were trying to keep him away from fighting and I may have accidentally made him cry”. 

You gasped and your mouth stayed gaped open for a long few seconds before playfully slapping him on the arm. “How dare you make my son cry? You really are cold-hearted. And it’s not that I was keeping him away from it, I just don’t want him growing up thinking he can solve things with aggression. I mean, he still doesn’t fully understand the difference between right and wrong”. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry”. 

You chuckled lightly at his apology. “Don’t be. It was sweet watching him doing what we do”. 

“I thought the same. If he keeps that up he’s looking at a good future career ahead of him”. 

You nodded and watched as Asher so cluelessly played with his cars around the room, occasionally driving the toy cars across both your laps. 

“How do you make it look so easy?” 

The question took you by surprise and you unintentionally scoffed. “Easy? You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” 

“What I mean is”, he corrected, “is that you’re a fucking good-” 

“Language…” 

“Right. Sorry. You’re a great mom, and even though you’ve probably struggled, you’ve had incredible success. I just wanna know how you do it”. 

You took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be a looooong night. “Well… truthfully… I’m a hot mess. I don’t sleep. When I first found out I was pregnant and Asher’s dad left me, I was so sure I’d get an abortion, but then I went to the clinic and had a scan and realised I had a helpless child living inside of me and I wouldn’t let it down by taking away its chance at life. Although at least once a week I stay up all night crying, regretting every life choice I’ve made, when I wake up to this beauty I’m proud to call my son, I become slightly more disgusted with myself that I even dared to think about giving up”. 

You had to force yourself to breathe after that confession. You completely shocked yourself because you’d never really had the chance to talk to anyone about what went through your mind almost on a daily basis and yet here you were, telling Tyler everything in one go as if he were your damned therapist. 

“God I didn’t mean to spill everything out like that”, you told him. 

“Ah  don’t worry. You shouldn’t hate yourself so much for it, though. Can’t imagine what crazy shit- uh stuff you’ve gone through. I bet all single mothers have gone through the same as you”. 

You sent him a heartwarming smile and he sent the same but in smirk form which you never knew was possible without looking like a complete jackass. 

It still wasn’t possible. He looked dorky but you loved it nonetheless. 

“Do you want kids?” you asked. 

“Whoa ask me out to dinner first”. 

You tried to hide the laughter that was begging to come out from that cheesy line with a shake of your head, but you knew it was no use. 

“Me? Kids? Nah. At least not now. I wouldn’t even know where to start with being a dad. I’ve never really been around younger kids being an only child and all. It’s not like I could just drag a wife and kid around with me everywhere I go. I’m not father material”. 

Your heart dropped at hearing his admission, because you yourself had thought the exact same thing when you were pregnant. You remember how frightened you were of being alone or having no one there as the role-model you so desperately needed. 

But how were you to know how rewarding it all was in the end? 

“Well I understand where you’re coming from but you’re wrong. Very wrong. When I walked in here and saw you and Asher, I would have been easily convinced that you’ve been hiding three kids back home. You’d be an awesome dad”. 

“Ha… thanks, but it still feels like it’s off the cards for me. My job just doesn’t work well with having a family. It sucks but it’s the truth”. 

“And what about me? Do you think I teleport from place to place? Of course not. Asher and I take a few days once or twice a month to go home where he sees his friends, and we don’t let the constant travelling stop us from doing the things that mean the most to us. Which goes for you too”. 

Your words truly touched Tyler’s heart. His parents had told him so many times that it was possible to have a family life and still do pro wrestling, but he still never quite believed it. He wanted to be there for his future wife and children whenever they needed him at any time of the day, not just the occasional weekend when he had time off. 

Hearing your story and how you’ve coped with all the madness in your life finally broke that barrier that’s stopped him from believing he had to choose between a career and a family. Tyler was only twenty-four and had a long time ahead of him for his plans, but he knew where he wanted to start his future - well he knew who he wanted to start it with. 

He had no idea how long he’d been staring at you, but he was happy you were staring back. 

‘There it is’, he thought. The same shine in your eyes as the one he saw in Asher’s earlier. It took everything in his willpower not to devour your lips right there and then. Who cares if the kid saw? He’d find out eventually that kissing was quite normal between a man and a woman. 

“Hey”, he began talking, snapping you both out of your trance. “Can you make time in your busy schedule for a date tomorrow? About 12?” 

You bit your lip to prevent you from grinning like some psycho serial killer and managed to nod which brought a broad smile to his own face. 

“That is if I can find another babysitter by then”. 

“Bring Asher along. We can go to the park and get something to eat”. 

Your heart warmed at the thoughtful gesture. “I wouldn’t want to invade your plans with a three-year-old”. 

“You wouldn’t. I promise”. 

“Then yeah. Yeah, I’d love to go on a date with you”. 

“Perfect”. 

Tyler asked for your number which you willingly gave him and he sent a text to make sure you weren’t messing with him. 

“Alright, Asher. Say goodbye to Tyler”. 

Asher turned around and waved to your date. “Bye, Tyleeer!” 

“Bye, Asher. See you tomorrow”. 

“See you tomorrow”, he replied, not fully understanding what was actually happening tomorrow. Sweet. 

— 

When you got back to the hotel, you thought that the roles might have been reversed because you were exhausted from the long day and you could have passed out in the elevator, whereas Asher was straight on the small bed laid out for him and bouncing up and down like it were a trampoline. 

“Hey calm down. It’s time for bed. It’s been a very busy day and it’s very very late”. 

“I want to play wrestling”. 

“We can play wrestling tomorrow with Tyler. I’m sure he’ll play with you again if you bother him enough”. 

“No. I want to play with you”. 

You sighed deeply, just wanting to flop on the bed and let sleep overcome you. It was almost midnight which definitely shouldn’t have been a time a toddler was still awake at, and you were sure he’d end up waking you at stupid o'clock in the morning. 

Maybe one game wouldn’t hurt. He had such a confusing and stressful day. 

“Alright. One time then straight to bed”. 

He giggled before launching himself at you from the bed and you quickly caught him so he wouldn’t drop, but you still pretended to fall backwards on the bed. You were confused as to why Asher was fidgeting so much, but you carried on playing nonetheless and switched positions, rolling him over and throwing yourself over his torso, pinning him down. 

He had to learn to lose the hard way. 

“Nooo! Stop!” he cried. Thinking you might have hurt him, you quickly got off and scanned his face for any sign of pain. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“You doing it wrong!” 

“Wrong? How am I doing it wrong?” 

“That’s not how you do it”. 

“Then tell me how to do it”. 

Now he was sulking. Typical behaviour. You weren’t going to get a word out of him until you knew what he wanted. 

“Let’s just go to bed then”. 

“NOOOOO!” he screamed. 

“You’re tired. Come on”. 

“I not tired! I want to play wrestling!” he crossed his arms. You’d been through this situation before. Maybe if you just slept he would forget about it and go to sleep himself. 

“I want to play wrestling!” he screamed again. 

A lightbulb felt like it turned on in your head at the genius but probably the most logical idea. You hoped he wasn’t asleep yet but there was a slim chance that he was. 

“Heeey, Tyler”, you spoke into the phone. “Can I ask you a real quick question?” 

“You changed your mind already? I thought I would have had at least tomorrow’s date before you decided you didn’t like me”, he responded, his voice slightly muffled through the speaker. 

“Oh, no nothing like that. I haven’t dated in like five years. I need tomorrow. I just wanted to know how you played wrestling earlier”. 

You could imagine the perplexed look swept across his features. “Do I wanna know why?” 

“I think you’ve created Asher’s new favourite game and he keeps saying I’m doing it wrong”. 

“Well, are you tickling him?” 

“Tickling? You tickled him? You?” 

“Yeah, let's not tell anyone”. 

You almost burst out laughing at the all mighty Hook secretly being a softie and embarrassed the way he was then. 

“Oh believe me, I’m going to tell Ricky tomorrow and the word that you’re a secret teddy bear will have reached everyone’s ears before the week is over”. 

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Now go to bed”. 

“Thank you so much. Goodnight”. 

“Night”. 

You felt yourself swooning at his thoughtfulness and you understood why all those girls fawned over him and his unlikely charm. 

“Right. Now I know how to play, how about we start the game again?” 

— 

“Eminem is not better than Snoop Dogg. You’re insane”. 

You snickered, relishing in the satisfaction you had from teasing Tyler. 

“Eminem’s songs tell a story. Snoop Dogg just says a bunch of random shit”. 

“What’s storytelling about two trailer-park girls going round the outside, huh?” 

“Ah you got me there”. 

The three of you were walking down a trail down the side of the park, Asher running ahead of you hitting every tree he could see with a stick. You took a side glance at Tyler who was gazing off into the distance at your son. You thought it was pretty adorable that he was growing a liking to Asher, particularly after the awkwardness he possessed around him when they first met. 

A laugh escaped your lips which drew the attention of Tyle who whipped his head to face you. “What’s so funny?” 

“What happened to the guy who didn’t like kids?” 

“Ah he’s growing on me”. 

“I’m glad. Because he’ll be tagging around to a few of our dates”. 

He stopped in his tracks whilst you continued walking but turned around once you noticed he wasn’t catching you up. 

Had you put him off by inadvertedly inviting a third wheel? 

“What makes you think there are more dates?” 

Oh thank fuck. 

“Well, aren't there?” 

He let out a sly chuckle as you moved closer to him, mirroring his smirk, and he instinctively rested his hands on your hips. 

Tyler felt his fingertips tingle at the touch of you. It was like his hands had finally found their destined home. 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out”. 

His lips captured yours in craving and you felt in the small but powerful gesture all the longing he had for you and your lips. Both yours and his lips massaged each other and your body fell into complete ecstasy. 

Until the little monster ruined the moment… 

“Why are you kissing?” You pulled away and smiled at Asher’s innocence. 

“It doesn’t matter, sweetie. Come on, let’s keep going”. 

“I don’t want to. My legs hurt. Pick me up?”. 

You looked at Asher in disbelief. You’d seen this child practically run marathons without stopping and somehow an hour at the park has him too tired to stand? You weren’t believing it for a second. Besides, as strong as you were, the kid was heavy. 

“You’re too big to pick up now. You’re a big boy”. 

“Pick me uuuuup!” 

“I told you no”. 

Ah there was the grumpiness again, his arms flailing everywhere and foot stomping on the ground. You sent him a stern look that you held for all of five seconds before Tyler decided to speak up. 

“Hey, do you want to sit on my shoulders?” 

“Yeah!” 

Hook knelt down whilst Asher climbed up his back and swung his legs over his shoulders, Tyler’s arms securely holding them in place so he wouldn’t fall backward. 

You rolled your eyes and you all continued walking down the path - with the exception of Asher, of course. 

It was a beautiful sight, you had to admit to yourself, but he was a cheeky mother fucker. 

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?” 

He chuckled at your comment for he knew you were telling the truth, but he loved the drama. 

“First, you make Asher cry, then you teach him wrestling, and now you’re his personal chauffeur. I hope you’re happy”. 

“Oh I’m more than happy, baby”. 

You couldn’t have agreed more. You had hope that this situation would progress into something much more wonderful than it already felt. 

THE END. 

[wowzer-bowzer]

Title: A Lesson in Empathy

Summary: Caitlin leaves you helpless during a party

The pulsating beats of the party thrummed through Caitlin’s veins as she pulled you through the front door. The house was a packed, chaotic whirl of bodies, laughter, and flashing lights. Caitlin’s excitement was palpable, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Come on, Yn, this is gonna be so fucking sick!” Caitlin said, her voice barely audible over the music. “I promise you’ll enjoy it once you get into it. Just stay by my side and trust me” Even with the loud music, you could hear the confidence dripping from her voice. With confidence like that how could you not trust her?

Even though your uneasiness was evident, you shift your weight shifted her weight, trying to appear more confident then you felt. You glanced around once more at the sea of unfamiliar faces, and instantly felt that “confidence”, be replaced with anxiety and fear. “I don’t really like big crowds, Caitlin. I’m not sure I’ll fit in.”

Caitlin’s face fell slightly, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a smile. “Please? Just try it out for a bit. I really want you here with me.” Just like that you were back in.

Despite your apprehensions, you nodded reluctantly, there was just no way you could say no to her. “Alright…but you promise to not ditch me”

“I promise I won’t leave you. Come on!” She replied her voice filled with excitement.

As you entered the party, Caitlin was immediately swept up by the crowd. She started chatting with friends, her energy contagious. But as the minutes ticked by, you felt increasingly abandoned, standing alone amidst the cacophony of the party.

The noise, the crowd, and Caitlin’s absence started to close in on you. Your heart raced, breathing shallow, and you felt a wave of panic crash over you. You tried to steady herself, but the anxiety only grew more intense. You felt trapped, the walls of the house closing in on you.

Desperate to escape the overwhelming chaos, you slipped away to a quieter corner of the house. Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you sat down, tears spilling uncontrollably. Your vision was blurred, and the room seemed to be spinning around her. The feeling of being utterly alone in this massive crowd was completely suffocating you, second by second.

Caitlin, lost in the revelry, didn’t notice your distress until she glanced around and realized you were nowhere to be seen. A pang of concern struck her as she began searching for her girlfriend, moving through the crowd with growing anxiety.

When Caitlin finally found you, you were huddled in a corner, with your face buried in your hands, her heart sank. She knelt beside you, the weight of her realization hitting hard. “Y/N… I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention”

You looked up, your face streaked with tears and your eyes filled with hurt. “You left me here, Caitlin. I told you I didn’t want to come. You knew ahead of time that I’d be anxious in a place like this.” Your voice laced with frustration and tiredness.

Caitlin’s heart broke at the sight of your pain. “I didn’t mean to. I got caught up in the party and completely lost track of time. I’m so sorry for being so thoughtless and inconsiderate.”

You shook your head, voice trembling. “It’s not just about tonight, Caitlin. It’s about you not being there for me when I needed you. You were supposed to be my support, but instead, you left me alone.”

Caitlin’s guilt was overwhelming. She reached out, gently taking your hand. “I know I messed up. I should have been more aware of how you were feeling. Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you home and make it up to you.”

They left the party in silence, the car ride home leaves with a heavy tension. Caitlin could barely look at you, her mind racing with regret. She had let her own excitement blind her to your needs, and the weight of that mistake was crushing her.

Back at your apartment, Caitlin set up a calming space with blankets and dim lighting. She made hot chocolate and set out your favorite snacks, trying to create a soothing environment. Her heart ached as she watched you sit quietly on the couch, the pain still evident in your eyes.

Caitlin sat beside you, her voice soft but laden with remorse. “I know I can’t undo what happened tonight, but I want to do whatever I can to make it right. I’m really sorry for ignoring how you were feeling. I really fucked up.”

You looked at Caitlin, the hurt still fresh but a hint of understanding mingled underneath. “I appreciate that you’re trying to make it better, but it’s going to take more than just words. I need you to actually be there for me when I’m struggling, I’m a situation like that, not just when it’s convenient.”

Caitlin nodded, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I promise I’ll work on it. I’ll be more mindful of how you’re feeling and make sure you’re not left alone like that again. You mean too much to me for me to keep making these mistakes.” She said gently using your forehead.

As the night wore on, you and Caitlin, both talked openly about your feelings and the importance of mutual support in your growing relationship. Caitlin’s regret was palpable, but so was her commitment to learning and growing from the experience.

When you finally settled in for the night, Caitlin held you close, her heart full of resolve. She knew it would take time to rebuild trust, but she was determined to make things right. And as you both drifted off to sleep, Caitlin silently vowed to be a better partner, one who would always be there for you, no matter the circumstances. Why? Cause if she lost you, she’d feel the same amount of hopelessness that you felt earlier.

[magicalbuttertarts]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a fluff Nick Wayne x fem reader?

The reader is always been very supportive and tagging him in her Instagram story whenever he's on TV and stuff which he sees all of her love and support so he DM's her and invites her to a show (you can choose which one) and then he realizes he's in love with her?

Thank you! Btw if this isn't something you wanna do then please don't worry about it!

DM straight to my heart

Nick Wayne x f/Reader

AEW Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: nothing.

Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.

WC: 540

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

I already knew who the notification was from before I even looked at my phone. She waits exactly 7 minutes after a match to post about me on her story.

Showing her love and support for myself.

At first, I was just stunned to see that I had such a loyal fan, when I just started on AEW.

I thought that she was going to stop supporting me for some reason, but her support and love just seemed to show each and every time.

I checked out her page and it wasn't private at the time.

She went private later when I reposted her story to mine, but that happened after I followed her back.

I couldn't help but put on notifications for her to see when she would post.

She was and is the only fan I followed back, and at first I thought that was because she was my first real fan, but that changed when my final taping on Rampage.

I hesitated if I should even ask her to come to the final taping of Rampage, but Kip, was the one who pushed me to do it.

"You have written and deleted that message about four times now. Just ask her if she would like to come or not."

"But what if she says no or finds it weird that I am inviting her?" I asked him as he sat down next to me.

"Look, you can either send that DM and take a chance, or don't send it, and sit back and wonder about it for the rest of your life."

I smiled when I saw her story.

She took a photo of her and I after I lost my match against Hook.

"You know you look at her the same way your father used to look at me." My mom said to me as she looked at the photos over my shoulder.

"I don't know her like that." I clicked my phone off and turned to look at my mom, who just gave me a soft smile.

"Your father didn't know me when he told his friends he was going to marry me. He just saw me and knew I was the one for him." She patted my cheek and left me standing there, letting her words sink in.

I looked at the first and only photo of us, and it dawned on me.....

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla

I am in love with her.

[midwestmade29]

Wildcard🃏

Hangman's vignette on Collision was very inspiring 😂 Thus this story was born. I miss him and have my fingers crossed so tightly that he really is the wildcard for Dynamite this Wednesday 🤞🏻

Word count: 2.2k Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine. All credit goes to original creator.

Disclaimers: Cursing, unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion.

Written from Hangman's POV 🙂

Hangman's nerves are getting the best of him so he calls on you to help calm them...

It was the night before I would be making my return to AEW as the wildcard. These last few months have been difficult, mostly because I’ve had to learn to live without her.

I knew she would be in Chicago. I knew that despite all the hell I’ve put her through, she wouldn’t miss this big moment. My mind is racing, my anxiety is through the roof of this hotel. I’m pretty sure if I don’t stop pacing, I’m going to be greeting the guests below me soon after my feet burn a hole in this floor.

The whiskey wasn’t helping. Shit, I’ve used that one too many times as a way to numb anything and everything, I’m practically immune to it now. There was only one thing that would calm me down at this point. Only one person who quiets my thoughts and makes me feel whole. I had to see her.

I pulled out my phone and sent Y/N a text, hoping and praying that my gut was right, and she was in fact in Chicago.

•••

I need to see you. Are you here?

To anyone else, the message might be slightly vague, but I knew that she would understand. I sat the phone on the desk and pulled up the rolling chair, just staring at the screen. For 10 minutes, the damn thing only said “delivered.” She hadn’t read the message yet.

I sighed and walked towards the bathroom when my phone dinged and stopped me in my tracks. I damn near tripped over my boots on my way back to the desk in my hurry. My heart was hammering against my chest when I unlocked the screen and went to my texts.

•••

Yes. Marriott next to the arena. Room 3412.

I let out a shaky breath once I realized she was staying in this very hotel. I was on the 37th floor so we weren’t far apart. With my phone placed back in my pocket and my keycard in hand, I walked out of my room to the bank of elevators.

Some higher power had to be messing with me right now. Y/N is only 3 floors below me, but damn is this thing moving slowly. Not to mention the large group of people that got on and off every floor on the way down.

The doors slid open, and I stepped off, looking left and right trying to see which direction I needed to go. With a right then left turn, I was standing outside Y/N’s door.

When she opened it, I swore I saw an angel. She was just as beautiful as the last time I saw her almost 4 months ago. It hurt like hell and felt so good at the same time being in her presence again. I’m just thankful she even agreed to see me.

I entered her room without a word spoken between either of us. I looked around and only saw 1 bed along with 1 suitcase. She was alone. Thank God.

“I know you’re nervous, but the crowd is going to love you, Adam. They’ll be happy to have their cowboy back,” Y/N said softly.

She was leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around her body, making me wish they were my arms around her instead. This woman knew me better than anyone, hell she knows me better than I know myself. She understands me. She accepts me. She’s always been my missing piece.

“Is it that obvious?” I asked with a nervous laugh. It was comforting and sometimes maddening that she could read me so well.

“Everything will go smoothly, and you’ll get back in the swing of things. You’re a natural. You just have to believe in yourself the way everyone else does Adam. You’ve got this. I know things aren’t ideal right now behind the scenes, but you’ll figure it out. Pick the path you want to go down and don’t look back,”

It felt like I was 20 pounds lighter hearing her words and knowing she still believes in me. I offered her my best smile while I took a moment to let her encouragement sink in. She shocked me when she walked over to me and placed her hand on my cheek. The familiar scent of her started to dance around my nose as I inhaled, it was intoxicating. It still lingered on her pillow in my bed at home.

Her fingers rubbed my beard, making me melt into her touch. Our eyes were on one another as we drank each other in.

“I’m glad the mustache is back to normal by the way. You look more like my-“ Y/N smiled before she stopped herself from saying whatever else she was going to say.

“I look more like your what, Y/N?”

Sadness flashed across her face, but she recovered quickly. She brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face while she answered me.

“My Adam. You look more like my Adam now,”

Y/N looked up at me, waiting for me to make the next move. I could tell she was afraid she had said too much, but she said everything I wanted, needed to hear. I leaned down and kissed her. I kissed her hard and I kissed her good. She tasted so fucking sweet as I slid my tongue in between her lips, savoring every second of this moment. God, I missed this. I missed her.

When I broke the kiss, her lips were already a little swollen. She tried to catch her breath as I kissed her jawline down to her neck, nipping and sucking until I found that sweet spot that made her come alive for me. My cock twitched in my jeans when she let out a breathy moan, letting me know I found my target.

I stole the moan right out of her mouth when I kissed her lips again, swallowing the sound whole and eating it up. Her fingers worked quickly to undo the buttons on my shirt, and when she slid it down my arms, the fire blazing in her eyes threatened to set the entire room on fire. Her fingertips traced along the lines of my chest, lightly grazing the scars that were scattered on the skin there before kissing them softly.

I tried my best to let her have the lead, at least for now but my resolve was fading the longer she looked at me with those lust blown eyes. Y/N unbuckled my belt, then the button and zipper before helping me shimmy my jeans down my legs and to the floor. She drug her nails gently up my thighs to my hips and up my chest, causing a shiver to run through me. She snaked her arms around my neck and splayed her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.

I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her over to the bed. The feeling of her pressing against my hard cock through my underwear was so good and torturous at the same time. I needed her. I needed this. We needed each other.

I laid her down on the bed gently, my lips finding hers once more. She arched her back and lifted herself slightly as I pulled her shirt up to remove it, revealing her bare breast underneath. Y/N is perfect. She’s the epitome of all things good and beautiful.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen Y/N. Every inch of you is divine. I can never get enough of you,” I whispered as I made my way down her torso.

I made a trail with my lips and tongue until I reached the hem of her pants. I hooked my fingers underneath the band and tugged while she lifted her ass off the bed to let me pull them off. Her underwear was next and ended up in the pile on the floor with our other discarded clothes. Y/N watched me intently as I spread her legs wide and positioned myself in between them.

“I’ve tasted your lips, but now I want to taste the rest of you sweetheart. Let me pleasure you, take what you need from my mouth. I don’t plan on stopping until I hear you cum,”

The gasp she let out the second I dove in made me stiffen even more. My boxers were feeling tighter and tighter with each minute that passed.

Every swipe and flick of my tongue against her clit was bringing her closer and closer to her release. I licked and lapped around her while I pumped my fingers in and out of her. Her moans were sugary sweet and satisfying, I couldn’t help but groan against her sensitive bud. Y/N intertwined her fingers in my hair, lightly pulling and tugging while her hips bucked and pressed herself even more against my tongue.

I wrapped my arms around her thighs when she finally came, holding her in place as I licked and sucked her through her release. She squirmed and moaned as each tremor wracked her body. I placed a kiss on her inner thigh before sitting up and pulling her to me. Our centers collided, making us both blow out a rush of air as my cock slid around her wet folds.

I refrained from pushing myself all the way into her. I wanted to draw things out as long as I could before we couldn’t take it anymore. My mouth took in one of her nipples while my hand played with the other.  My teeth grazed the pink bud, my tongue following afterwards before I sucked it into my mouth and released it. I kissed my way over to her other stiff peak, taking it into my mouth to continue my teasing.

“A-Adam please. I want you; I need to feel all of you. Please,” Y/N’s plea was nothing more than a breathy murmur.

She was ready for me, and I was so ready for her. I reached between our bodies and lined myself up with her entrance, my breath catching in my throat as the head of my cock rested against the soft inner lining of her pussy. If I could bottle this feeling up, I would so I could enjoy it any time I wanted to.

My forearms supported most of my weight as I inched myself inside of her. Y/N felt incredible, so tight and so warm against me.  So wet and so perfect for me. Her walls stretched around me, eventually giving me full access and allowing me to be fully sheathed. I started moving against her slowly at first before increasing my speed.

Our bodies worked together in perfect harmony as we both chased euphoria. Y/N dug her nails into my back whenever I hit her sweet spot, her eyes fluttered closed when I leaned down and kissed her neck. We were both panting and sweaty and so completely lost in each other.

“Darlin, you’ve been so good for me. So, fucking good. I can feel how close you are. Let yourself go sweetheart,” I whispered against the shell of her ear.

Y/N pressed her heels into my ass, bringing us even closer together as I continued thrusting, much deeper now. I felt her flutter around my cock, and I knew she was done for. I watched as the most incredible woman I’ve ever known fell apart beneath me. Her lips parted and her sweet voice cried out my name. Her legs twitched and her cheeks flushed while her body absorbed every ounce of pleasure her orgasm brought.

I’ve never wanted time to stand still as badly as I do right now. Y/N completely blissed out and me seconds behind her. Both of us so fucking high off one another we may never come back down from it. My release detonated, wave after wave of satisfaction crashed against every part of me as I thrusted erratically. I grunted into Y/N’s chest as each rope of my cum filled her until I had nothing left.

It was minutes before I could bring myself to pull out of her. Part of it was because it just felt so damn good being inside of her, but the other part was because I wasn’t sure what would happen between us next. I couldn’t help but feel sentimental during this intimate moment, my thoughts and feelings threatened to drown me when they came flooding back into my mind.

Once I was lying on my back with Y/N resting her head on my chest, she worked her magic again. The warmth of her skin against mine mixed with the feeling of being completely sated, she put an end to my thoughts and worries. The noise in my head was now quiet. She did all this without even trying!

Not long after I pulled the covers over both of us, we fell into a peaceful sleep. I held her through most of the night before we repositioned, and our limbs ended up tangled together. There’s no way for me to ever thank her properly for all that she’s done for me and continues to do. I know I’ll spend the rest of forever trying my best to show her just how grateful I really am. Months ago I made the biggest mistake of my life letting her go. Tonight felt like a second chance, a fresh start. I had to do whatever I could to make her mine again.

[gorgeys]

Do you still make fanfics? If you do please do Carla smut

PORNSTAR ★ carla roson

Carla Roson x fem!reader

Part 2 of So Naive

You still don't understand that you belong to Carla, she intends to prove it to you and Guzman...

Warnings: SMUT - top!Carla, bottom!reader, semi-public sex, dub-con, shoving, grabbing, hair-pulling, hickeys, biting, brat taming??, pet names, mentions of murder/mutilation, degradation/praise, choking, finger sucking, non-con pictures/filming, begging, fingering

Word Count: 4750

Note: i'm so sorry this took so long! i lost motivation for writing for a while but i'm temporarily back!

also i literally changed tenses in the middle of writing but i was too lazy to fix it and the ending is a little rushed bc i didn't want it to get any longer than it already was, hope you enjoy!!

Carla checks her phone as she enters Guzman’s house.  She’s definitely late.  Too late as she notices the last text from you was sent over an hour ago when you had arrived at the party.  In one hour you could have been anywhere doing anything.  She hates the thought of it.

The horiffic image of you and him had been replaying in her mind all day.  His hands all over your body, his lips against your skin, the way you would sound for him.  It was like a constant nightmare that she couldn’t put to bed.  She was hoping you could help silence her thoughts.

She headed for the kitchen to pour herself a drink, craving a light buzz.  She only downed half of it when she noticed Samuel approaching her.

She turned her back toward him, hoping he would get the hint, but he quickly tapped on her shoulder.  Carla obnoxiously rolled her eyes before turning around to greet him.

It was more than obvious he had developed a hearty crush on her since Marina.  He always ran his hands in his hair, trying to perfect it before he went to approach her.  He’d be too smiley while talking to her, and he’d take a step too close which always resulted in Carla escaping the situation as quickly as possible.  She couldn't understand how Samuel never noticed her grimaces or eyerolls or the hundreds of signs she sent him to give it up.  Carla hated everything about it.

But you seemed to love it.  You’d always tease her about him, calling Samuel her boyfriend and pushing her to go talk to him.  She was pretty sure this whole thing had even started because of you, that you had mentioned to Samuel that Carla was interested in him in the first place.  You always loved a little white lie.

For some reason you just loved to be a nuisance.  You loved to watch Carla squirm when you flirted with the guys.  You loved watching her become so irritated and red, grinding her teeth so hard she could start a fire.  You loved flustering her in the middle of class by sending her some dirty pictures, watching her eyes go wide as she quickly hid her phone in her skirt.  She’d always give you the craziest look, wondering if your antics would ever end.  And you loved forcing her onto Samuel, watching her struggle to get away from him just to spend another moment with you.  Of course, you never let her, always ditching her with the pretty boy and leaving her wanting more.

You were such a brat.  Everyone knew it.  Your parents were unbelievably rich, valued much higher than the regular Las Encinas family, so you always got want you want.  Of course you used that to your advantage more times than not.  It became your entire reputation.

Carla was your perfect match.  Everyone was always willing to give her everything she wanted, from her father to her ex-boyfriend.  Everyone but you.  Carla hated it sometimes, but all those other times, she loved taking what she wanted from you.

“Hi, Carla,” Samuel said with a big, dorky smile.

“Hi, Samu,” she dryly said, placing her drink on the counter.  “Have you seen Y/N?”

“Yeah, I just saw her out there,” Samuel said, pointing to the the door he had just entered through.  “But-”

“Thanks,” she quickly said, giving him a grateful pat on the shoulder before walking past him in that direction.  She paid no mind to how he called after her as she walked through the doorframe.

Her eyes scanned the large living room where most of the students had gathered to talk and drink.  It was quite crowded and she almost didn’t see you.  Almost.

But there you were sitting in one of those fancy leather chairs, a drink in one hand.  But you weren’t alone, not even close.  Carla could already feel her face burn up, her neutral expression turning completely sour.

You were sitting in Guzman’s lap so comfortably.  You were perched on one of his legs, facing the side.  Your own legs were over his and hanging over his lap.  Your free arm was draped loosely over his shoulder, your nails digging into the soft skin of his neck.  His hands were all over you, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other reaching to squeeze your thigh.

Maybe Carla wasn’t the murderer but in a few seconds she thought she’d become one.

She wanted to pull all of his teeth out just to wipe away his smug smile.  You leaned in toward his face as you spoke, tightening your grip on his neck, and when he laughed, Carla felt he was already gloating his victory.

She wanted to slice all his fingers off when his hand began to travel downward from your waist to palm your ass.  She nearly groaned when she noticed the skirt you were wearing.  She knew that one very well.  She knew it was the shortest one you owned from the amount of times her hand had wandered beneath it.  You were basically sitting on him with your bare ass out.

And then, for the finale, she would make sure to cut his dick off.  She saw the way he adjusted in the seat, slightly moving his hips up into your body.  It would have been a miracle if he didn’t have the largest hard-on known to man.  But the part that really made her swell with rage was that you could feel it and you weren’t doing anything about it.  You were sitting on his dick like you were his girl.  She hated to think about what could have happened if she hadn’t arrived at that exact time.

You raised your glass to your lips to take a long sip of expensive liquor.  It was the perfect opportunity for Guzman to turn his head and find Carla standing stiffly in the doorway.  He almost laughed out loud. The feeling of you sitting in his lap and her jealous glare was so triumphant.  His smile doubled in size and doubled in arrogance.

Her eyes narrowed at him, a silent promise that he wouldn’t get the last laugh.  If Carla’s blood was boiling before, it was on fire now.

But then, noticing Guzman’s attention had been stolen, you turned as well, instantly finding Carla’s eyes.  You could feel her wrath even from across the room and you only fed off it.  You were drunk off the feeling of power knowing you had La Marquesa tucked snuggly in your back pocket.  It felt so good that you couldn’t help yourself.

Instead of being a simple tease like usual, you gave her a ladylike wave.  And then you sent her a polite, friendly smile.  It was innocent to the naked eye.

But friendly?  She couldn’t bear you.  You looked so fake and well-mannered.  Two things you definitely weren’t.  Especially when you were alone with her.

Carla couldn’t stand you acting like she was just one of your bitchy friends, like there was nothing more between you.  No, she was everything for you.  She owned you in every which way and she was determined for not only Guzman to see, but for you to accept it as well.

You and Guzman both directed your attention back onto one another although you were very aware of a seething Carla charging toward you.  But only when she was at arms length did Guzman see her.  He didn’t have enough time to react before she reached out and violently grabbed you by the arm.

“What the fuck, Carla?” Guzman shouted, outrage painting his face.

She was squeezing so tightly you could already feel the bruises forming, but you refused to go without a fight.  You tugged your arm back and gave her a condescending glare.

She was done with your bullshit.  She pulled your arm, twisting it in such a way that you spilled your drink all over the white rug.

“Carla!”  You scolded. Her aggression surprised you a little.  She always kept it classy in public, not a hair out of place. It seemed you had pushed her over the edge this time and you were enjoying it a little too much.

Carla didn’t speak but gave you the coldest look you had ever received from her hazel eyes.  She looked ready to kill and you silently wondered if you would be Las Encinas’ next victim.  You didn’t really mind as long as she fucked you first.

Deciding you had been difficult enough, you allowed her to take the glass from your hand and place it on the table.  With another tug of your arm you were letting go of Guzman and sliding off his lap.  He protested but you didn’t acknowledge him.  He had finished his duty of keeping you warm until Carla rescued you.

In a blur you were weaving through the crowd, wobbling on your heels at the pace Carla was dragging you at, and then climbing the stairs.  Carla opened the first door on your right and pushed you inside.  You immediately recognized it as Guzman’s room.

You stumbled into the large room from the force of Carla’s shove, eventually losing your footing and falling onto the soft carpet.  On all fours, you peeked over your shoulder to see Carla slam the door behind her.

But she didn’t move toward you.  She just watched you, one hand still on the door knob and the other moving to sit on her hip.  Now that you were alone, the look in her eyes was a bit less violent but still intense.  She looked hungrier than ever.

“God, you look so much better on your knees,” she said, her eyes shamelessly devouring you.  “Looking up at me.”  Her lips twitched upward, reminiscent of a smile.  These were the moments she enjoyed the most.

You pushed your hands off the ground and sat back on your knees.  You gathered your hair on your far shoulder, giving Carla a better view of your long neck and devilish eyes.

“But I leave you for one second and you’re out there riding his dick in front of everyone like his little slut,” Carla hissed.  She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth a couple times and shook her head disapprovingly, scolding you like a child.

You mocked her attempts to chastise you with a condescending laugh.

“Don’t be jealous that his dick is bigger than yours,” you said, looking over your shoulder to show your shit-eating grin.

She didn’t seem to take your comment lightly as her jaw noticeably clenched and her grip on the door knob tightened.

“I would watch what you say, princesa,” she said, tilting her head.  Even if she was the Marchioness’ daughter, she had always called you royalty.  The title fit you too well.  “Things will only get worse for you later.”

She took a confident stride toward you, enjoying the way your smile slowly diminished.  Images flashed behind your eyes of what “later” could possibly be.

The feeling in your stomach was so strange.  You hated being dominated by anyone, but for some reason, when it was Carla, you felt an uncontrollable pulse between your legs.  You were practically begging her to shut you up.

“I don’t care how big his dick is.  I know he can’t fuck you how you like it,” she said, taking another teasingly slow step.

“That’s not what I was saying last night,” you said, that aggravating smirk returning.  “Actually, it was right here, on his bed.  You should have seen it, Carla.  I was just begging for him to go faster, deeper.”

You imitated yourself, letting your head fall back and rolling your eyes into the back of your skull.  You balled your fists at your sides, gripping onto imaginary sheets.

Carla’s next two strides were quick and put her right behind you.  She dug her nails into your scalp and fisted at your hair, violently pulling your head back even further so you were looking directly up at her looming figure.  You released an involuntary moan at the sudden pain, stretching your hands out behind you to brace yourself.

“I fucking warned you,” she said, her other hand cupping your chin to angle your face even further back.  Your mouth slightly hung open at the sight of her.   “But that mouth of yours gets you into all kinds of trouble.”

“And this mouth,” you started, voice strained by the way your neck was bending backward, “took his whole fucking dick,” you said with a sadistic smile.  "Every inch."

That was the final nail in the coffin, her expression morphing into one of red hot rage

Your hand instinctively flew to the back of your head and a shriek left your lips when she pulled you up by your hair.  She dragged you once more, this time to the bed, and tossed you toward it face first.

You quickly turned onto your back, leaning back on your elbows while Carla stood over you.  She placed her hand on your bare midriff, the skin between your top and waistband, before she climbed onto you, straddling you with her thighs.

Both of her hands quickly moved to wrap around your throat, instantly crushing your windpipe and causing you to drop flat on your back. Her slender fingers felt comfortable there as you wheezed pathetically for air, her nails digging into the skin for good measure.

“Not so tough now, are we?”  She hunched over you, ass up, as she brought her face so close to yours.  She grinned like a maniac.  If someone had walked in right then, they would have thought Carla was trying to kill you.

“You know he showed me all those fucking pictures you sent him,” Carla said, steadying the pressure on your neck.  “The pictures meant for me.  And in that fucking red set.” She scoffed at you, shaking her head.  “You wanna be his cam girl?  His pornstar?”

You threw your head back as your eyes began to roll into your head for real this time.  Pain never felt so good as you felt yourself pooling under your skirt.

“Fine.  Then I’ll treat you like it,” she said, one of her hands leaving your throat to grope your tit through your shirt.  She moved her face downward, leaving a trail of warm breath against your neck, eventually finding your collar bone.  She looked up at your twisted expression as she roughly bit down on your skin, earning a strangled noise from your throat.  She smiled into your flesh before sucking on the spot mercilessly.

It was like torture as she made it a routine, moving her lips downward each time she bit and sucked your skin raw.  You felt the blood rushing to where her teeth gnawed your skin, forming pigmented bruises.  She never tired of hearing the shaky breath you released each time.

When her lips had chased your skin all the way down to the neckline of your top, she was quick to grab the hem with both hands. She pulled the top over your head with your cooperation, leaving you braless and bare beneath her.  She exhaled a long, satisfied sigh.

“All for me, huh?”  Her eyes shifted from your face to your chest and back up again.  Still trying to catch your breath, you couldn’t give her a response.  She sinfully laughed, basking in the sound of muffled music and your relentless heaving, before her lips wrapped around your nipple.

You groaned low when her teeth grazed the sensitive skin, your hands molding into the back of her thighs.  Her other hand mimicked her mouth on your unattended nipple. You knew she always loved twisting, yanking, and rubbing your tits until you squealed and squirmed.

Eventually her mouth moved onto the smooth skin of your breast, marking you up yet again. You rolled your eyes, wondering where this sudden obsession had come from.  She always liked to keep you clean and free of noticeable hickeys.  You didn’t mind the change but you were beginning to grow impatient with the foreplay.  She had given so much attention to your top half you just wished she would give something to your bottom half.

“My god, Carla, could you be any slower? At least he fucked me in the end,” you said in a raspier voice, pulling on the skin of Carla’s thighs.

Carla rolled her eyes back at you, momentarily detaching her mouth from your chest.

“So fucking loud,” she mumbled, speaking more to herself than you.

She wasted no time stripping her hand from your tit and pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth.  She was content when her fingers slid in with ease and pushed down your throat.  You didn’t mind sucking on her like a popsicle as she pulled them out and then pushed them a little deeper.  Her lips quirked upward as she absorbed the sight before her.  Each time her fingers disappeared into your head she could feel the spot between her legs heating up.

“Good girl,” she said, gently holding your cheek with her other hand.  She leaned down to give your chin an appreciative kiss.  “Bet he couldn’t go that deep,” she said following a particularly rough thrust.  She chuckled lowly, not breaking eye contact.

She returned to your tits only for a few more seconds before pulling her head back to view the entire, perfect sight of you.  The hickeys were already beginning to darken on your skin leaving you perfectly bruised and battered.  That plus you bobbing on her fingers was a beautiful scene.  One that had to be shared.

She pulled her hand from your mouth tantalizingly slow, allowing the saliva to create sticky strings between your lips and her fingers.  She eyed them curiously, slowing her movements to prolong the strings before they broke.  Then she carelessly rubbed her fingers across your chest and down the valley of your breasts, leaving a visible trail of spit in her wake.

“What a pretty slut,” she said, her eyes devouring you like a piece of meat, enjoying the slightly tired look in your eyes.  She made you feel unusually small.  “I wonder what Guzman would think.”

Without missing a beat, Carla reaches for her back pocket and pulls out her phone.

“Carla,” you whined like a child, turning your head to the side, and burying your cheek into the sheets.  You were never camera shy but this moment of vulnerability was different.  If you had known this was her intention all along then maybe you wouldn’t have let her fuck you up so badly.  No one was ever meant to see you like this.  No one but her.

“Come on, you didn’t have a problem sending him those pictures.  What’s a few more?” she said while petting your cheek.  She held the phone above you, just out of reach, where she could capture the entirety of your bare top half.

She hums in satisfaction watching your sweaty body under the lens.  Your hair is cinematically sprawled across the sheets while the saliva coating your lips, chin, and chest shines under the dim lighting.  Your neck is slightly red from Carla’s ironclad grip and your chest is adorned with darker shades from the excellent work of Carla’s teeth and lips.

“He’s gonna cream his pants when he sees this,” she says, sucking her lips into her mouth.  She was getting a little too anxious looking at you.  “Smile, cariño,” she says, her own grin decorating her face.  She grabs your chin and forces you to look up at her and the camera.  Your eyes are barely open but it doesn’t matter.

She snaps the picture before you can even react.

“Gorgeous,” she says, letting her free hand trail gently down your neck.  She intentionally presses her fingers into a particularly sensitive spot, eliciting a groan from your lips.  “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Carla,” you whine once more, throwing your head back in frustration and further imprinting your nails into her thighs.  You hated how much she was ruining your plans.  Guzman was just meant to be a distraction while Carla was supposed to make you cum all over her fingers.  Instead, Carla was slutting you out to Guzman and you were nowhere near cumming.

“Shut up.  You did this to yourself,” she said, her hand gliding past your chest and scratching your stomach.  “You should have never sent him those pictures.”

Both of her hands move to the waistband of your skirt while still clutching the phone.  She’s harsh in the way she rips the skirt down your thighs, creating some friction between the clothing and your skin. She slightly adjusts herself and bends your knees to fully remove it, leaving you in just a pair of lace panties.

She presses her palm against your clothed pussy and only laughs in yet another mockery of your state.

“Good god, you’re just dying to be fucked dumb, huh?” she says, beginning to palm the wetness that seeped through your panties.  She situates herself in between your legs, allowing you to push your knees further outward, helping to aid the aching feeling inside you.  Her sly smile widens, glad to have broken your hard exterior.  “Already spreading your legs?  You’re too easy.”

Her fingers push your panties aside and dip into your soaking pussy.  She refuses to give your clit any attention as she swipes her fingers against your slit.  A throaty sigh pushes its way past your lips, your hands finding solace cupping your tits.

“D’you want me to take this off for you?” she says, tugging at the waistband of your panties.

You hum in agreement, looking up at her through your eyelashes.

“Then ask nicely,” she demands, her eyes straying from your pussy to stare at you expectantly.

You can’t help but groan irritatedly.  She knows how much it hurts your ego to ask nicely for anything, let alone this.  She thrives off making you feel the worst before making you feel your best.  You push away your pride in hopes of feeling that sweet release.

“Please, Carla,” you plead rather dully, breaking eye contact in a forced attempt to get what you want.

“I think you can do better.  Look at me and tell me what you want,” she says, leaning her face down toward yours, forcing you to meet her eyes.  She brushes her thumb against your clit for some encouragement.  It seems to work as you let go of any last bit of dignity and look straight into her.

“Please, Carla, just fuck me.  Take it off and fuck me with your fingers.”

The hidden desperation in your voice clicks something into place.  You swear you see her eyes light up as she instantly obeys, removing your panties in a flash, leaving you completely naked beneath her.  She moans loudly at the sight of your bare pussy, pushing her hair back so she has the perfect view.  You spread your legs a little further, enticing her to reach out and feel you.

She does, now pressing her thumb roughly into your clit, and reveling in the starved noise you make.  She watches the muscles in your face tense as she rubs consistent circles against your clit, enjoying each element of your expression.  All the sucking and biting and teasing had already made you a swollen, soaked mess.  It only made toying with you even more fun.

Carla gradually sped up her slow movements, earning increasingly louder squelches from your pussy and increasingly louder moans from your wet lips.  She could feel her own panties dampening from your distraught noises.

“You even sound like a pornstar.  Fucking whore,” she says, as your hips slightly buck up in pleasure.  “You want me inside of you?”

“Please, please, Carla,” you beg, every sign of the brat you once embodied having faded into oblivion the second she laid fingers on your pussy.  “Fuck, I need you inside of me so bad,” you say in one breath, practically moaning your words.

“Fine,” she says, slowing the rotations on your clit.  You watch her rub your pussy with one hand and hold the phone above you with the other.  She points it directly at your entrance.  “Be a good girl for the camera, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for your response as she slowly begins pushing her finger into your hole.  You can only assume she’s recording as your back arches off the mattress, feeling her slender finger dig so deep inside of you.  The pleasure is almost instant when your pussy consumes her entire finger and you release a guttural moan.

“You say he fucked you but you’re still so god damn tight,” she says, her eyes darting between your pussy and the phone screen, making sure she’s capturing the perfect angle.  Her exaggerated laugh rubs salt in Guzman’s wound. “Hold your legs up, baby.  I want to see all of you,” she says.  You immediately obey, grabbing under both your thighs and pulling your knees up to your chest.  “That’s better.”

Another moan leaves your lips, feeling the stretch more intensely with your legs spread even wider.  She takes it as a sign to pull her finger halfway out and then push it back in, slightly deeper.  She does it agonizingly slow, building a steady wave of pleasure.  She repeats herself, once, twice, three times, pushing in and out of you at a deliberate pace, leaving you a whining mess.  You lose count as you grow impatient, wishing she’d thrust into you like a mad man as she had done many times before.

“Please, Carla, faster,” you beg, opening your eyes to look down at her.  She moves the camera up your body, capturing your raised legs, bouncy tits, and blissed out expression.

“Sorry, what was that?” she teases, smirking behind the phone, forcing you to be louder for the video.  Her attempts to soothe you with her thumb on your clit are futile.

“Faster, fuck me faster, please,” you whine, throwing your head back, hopefully out of view of the camera.

She doesn’t necessarily oblige but she does add a second finger when she pushes into your pussy again.  You moan louder at the slight stretch, your insides twisting into a tight knot.  She curls her fingers delightfully at the end of the thrust, only making the feeling even stronger.

She puts the camera directly over your face.

“Open your eyes, cariño,” she says.  You listen, looking up at the camera, hoping she’ll reward you for following her command.  “Who’s fucking you so good?”

When you don’t respond immediately, she prompts you by driving into you a little harder.

“You,” you instantly moan out, your hips chasing her hand.  You fight the urge to shut your eyes

“Who?”

“You, Carla,” you moan when she curls her fingers sharply, staring into the lens.  When you notice her pick up speed with her thrusts, you begin repeating her name like a prayer, hoping it’s the key word.

“Who makes you feel good inside?”

“Who makes you squirt all over the sheets?”

“Who do you belong to?”

The answer is always “Carla.”

She’s still not fucking you nearly hard enough but it’s faster than how she started.  You feel your pussy throb and her fingers hit the right spot each time.  Your tits are slightly shaking as she increases speed while your spine forms a permanent arch.  You allow yourself to be as loud as possible in hopes of pleasing her, in hopes that she’ll let you cum.  All the while she captures each godly move of your body and her fingers.

But eventually, after what feels like a lifetime, she ends the video.  She throws her phone across the room and smiles down at you.

“The only thing that will be as good as fucking you is seeing his face when he opens this video,” she says, her hands leaving your pussy to cup your face.  She leans down and attacks your lips with a devastatingly smooth and wet kiss, her starved lips moving intensely against yours  You can barely reciprocate with the delicate state that you're in.

You almost start to complain about the emptiness of your pussy, but she suddenly ducks down, hooking her arms under your thighs and burying her face between your legs.

“If I were you, I’d start praying.  Pray to God that I’ll let you cum.”

why am i lowkey feeling guzman and carla threesome??

@hauntedfictionland @mjl877 @underratedax @androgynouscloudenemy @justyourwritter69 @blondetxxz @nessyishere

[bumblesimagines]

you don't have to leave, you know.

stay the night tonight.

Ivan Carvalho

you don't have to leave, you know.

stay the night tonight.

Pronouns:

Stepping out of the shower, (Y/N) rolled his shoulders and wrapped the towel around himself, running a hand over his dripping face as he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the bedroom. Ivan remained in bed, curled up amongst the covers and blankets with his face half buried in a pillow. He cracked open his eye and smiled at the sight of him, raising his head and rolling himself over onto his back. 

"You should take a shower. Maybe change the sheets, too." (Y/N) advised, separating his scattered clothes from Ivan's and tossing them on the bed until he located his briefs. 

"Mm... you don't have to leave, you know." He said softly, pushing himself up and crossing to the other side of the bed to grab hold of (Y/N)'s wrist, gently pulling it toward him and brushing his lips over his knuckles. (Y/N) stretched out his fingers, brushing them along his cheek and feeling him lean into his touch. "Stay the night tonight. We can have whatever you want for breakfast and go to school together." 

"Ivan..." (Y/N) sighed softly. "You know we can't do that. I like you, Ivan. You're a sweet guy. But... I really don't want you or anyone else getting the wrong idea. We're friends, and sometimes we sleep together. That's it." 

"Friends have sleepovers all the time." Ivan pointed out with a cheeky grin. 

"What are we? Six year olds?"

"Come on, (Y/N)," Ivan groaned softly, moving onto his knees to be at eye level with him, his hands coming to rest on the sides of his neck and draw him in. Ivan pressed their lips together, fingertips digging into his skin lightly. "I can make it worth your time." He promised with a twinkle in his eyes. (Y/N) bit the inside of his cheek and rolled his eyes. 

"Fine. Just this once though."

[captainshurley]

Baby I'm not alright, but I'm okay (Part 8)

Cash Wheeler x f reader

Long time no see! I hope you'll enjoy) Previous chapter

It's been almost half a year since that morning when y/n's phone started blowing up with notifications. A lot has happened since then. A trip to another city for a couple of weeks to escape the fallout from a story that blew up after just one outing. Y/n even had to take unpaid leave for family reasons.

Moving. She had to quickly sell her old place and relocate. Her brother helped a bit, and y/n managed to buy a small house by the lake. She tried to convince him it wasn’t necessary, that she could handle it on her own, but Scott wouldn’t hear it. Y/n finally gave in after a lot of persuasion, especially when her brother handed her the documents for the new house by the picturesque lake on her birthday.

At first, y/n cut off all contact with friends except Maria. Her best friend let everyone who needed to know that y/n was fine but had to leave for a while. As for Daniel, Maria mentioned a couple of times that Wheeler had asked if her departure was related to that article, inquired about how she was doing, and if Maria knew when y/n would be back. Maria always replied that she didn’t know, as y/n had asked her to.

But yesterday, Captain Kirby called. "I'm sorry, but your leave has gone on too long, and I can’t keep turning a blind eye. Either you return to duty, or the department will have to dismiss you with a formal reprimand for abandoning your sevice." There was no choice. Y/n couldn’t let herself be fired, especially with that kind of record.

She arrived at work half an hour early. Heading to the locker room to change, she ran into some officers from the night shift who were just getting ready to go home. "Hey, y/n! Long time no see! How’ve you been? Where’d you disappear to?" asked one of her colleagues, someone she’d occasionally exchange a few words with. "Hey, hi. Yeah, I was away for a bit. Had some things to sort out," y/n replied reluctantly. She didn’t feel like sharing details with people she barely knew. "Ah, got it. By the way, a couple of days ago, a guy came by asking about you. Pretty good-looking," the colleague said with a smile. "Probably Daniel. I should message him on Instagram and apologize for ignoring his messages all this time," y/n thought. Why hadn’t she replied? She was ashamed of how she’d run away and scared he’d just laugh at her explanations. "I told him you were on leave, and he asked when you’d be back. He also wanted your new number since the old one’s out of service. Oh, and he left you a note. It’s in your locker. Looks like you’ve got an admirer," the colleague added. "Thanks, Rose," y/n nodded briefly and turned to her locker. She took out the note, unfolded it, and started reading. She recognized the handwriting immediately. "Baby, did you really think you could run away from me? You’re sacrificing our relationship, our story, our feelings. I can’t accept that. I’ll find you, I won’t let you escape. You’re meant for me, and I’m meant for you, and I’ll do everything to make you see that. Don’t think I’ll let you go so easily. You’re mine, and you always will be." "Josh…" y/n muttered without realizing she’d said it out loud. Her colleague turned to her, "Did you say something?" Y/n’s face went pale, her ears rang, and her vision blurred. Rose touched her shoulder, "Are you okay? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?" It took y/n a few long seconds to snap back to reality. She was staring blankly, barely blinking. "Should I call a doctor?" Rose asked anxiously. "Sit down, I’ll get someone." "No, don’t!" But y/n’s legs gave out, and she sat down on the bench. "Okay, I’ll get you some water," Rose filled a cup from the cooler nearby and handed it to y/n. "What happened?" Y/n grabbed Rose’s hands, "Listen, if he comes back asking about me, you don’t know anything. I’m gone, no phone, you’re clueless." "Got it. But you should tell whoever’s on duty today. I’m heading home to sleep, but I can let them know before I leave." "Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it."

Out on patrol with Jonathan, y/n felt like she was back in her usual routine. Jonathan, as always, understood her without needing explanations. They’d worked together for a long time, and while he’d seen the article, he never pried into her personal life unless she brought it up herself. Mid-shift, they got orders to provide extra security at a large event. These kinds of assignments were usually no big deal.

The first few hours were quiet. The crowd was big but well-behaved. "Hey, Jonathan, it’s hot today. Want something to drink?" y/n wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Yeah, I’m dying of thirst," he admitted. The black uniforms weren’t helping. The sun was relentless. "I’ll grab some water. Need anything else?" y/n offered. "No, just water. Thanks."

Y/n walked over to a small stand with drinks that she’d noticed earlier because of the shade from its awning. "Two bottles of water, please," she said, pulling out some cash. The young guy running the stand nodded and reached into the cooler. While he grabbed the bottles, y/n, out of habit, scanned the area. People were enjoying the unusually hot spring day. Suddenly, her eyes landed on a familiar figure. She looked closer and realized it was her ex. She definitely hadn’t expected to see him here. Grabbing the bottles, y/n quickly walked away in the opposite direction, not paying attention to where she was going. Her mind raced: should she pretend nothing happened? The chance of running into him in such a big crowd was slim. Run away? A bad idea—she was on duty—but at least she wouldn’t have to face Josh. Before she could decide, y/n bumped into someone. A pair of hands steadied her to keep her from falling. "Sorry, I wasn’t looking…" she started, then looked up. "No worries, it happens… Wait, y/n?" She instantly recognized the voice. "Uh… Hi, Dan. Fancy meeting you here," she said awkwardly, then remembered why she was in a hurry. "Listen, I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll explain everything later, but right now I need your help. My ex is around here somewhere, and I really don’t want to run into him. Can you help me out?" Daniel looked at her, confused, then nodded. "Alright. But you’re definitely telling me where you’ve been and why you’re hiding from your ex," he said firmly.

[usomads]

Dripping // Will Ospreay x Reader

Author’s Note -> Been sitting on this idea for a while but I moved states so I had to put it on pause– figured I’d use it as a little bit of a palate cleanser before jumping into more requests! And who better than my fav 🥰 first AEW one shot too! Lmk what you think and, as always, happy reading! 🙂‍↕️

Pairings -> Will Ospreay x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Slight angst, Blood play, Nipple Play, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.6k

‼️Trigger Warning: Blood‼️

You were snapped out of your trance by Will slamming open the locker room door, the sharp sound echoing through the halls of the backstage area. His face is a mess of dried blood and sweat, a nasty cut on his temple leaking fresh crimson. His chest rises and falls with labored breaths and his hair is damp with a mixture of sweat and blood, clinging to his forehead in wild curls. You’ve been waiting in his locker room to tend to him, first aid kit in hand, but the intensity radiating from the man freezes you where you stand.

He brushes past you, throwing a blood-stained towel onto the bench with a frustrated sigh. You can’t help but watch as he rakes his fingers through his hair, his movements sharp. Every muscle in his body is taut, his frustration from his match practically radiating off of him. You attempt to speak but before you can do that he spins around, his piercing eyes locking onto you.

“You just going to stand there?” he snaps, his voice low and full of grit.

You swallow hard, clutching the first aid kit tightly. The air feels thick, his anger palpable, yet despite the warning in his tone you’re drawn to him. Maybe even because of it.

“I came to check on you,” you manage to say, your voice softer than intended. His eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath his anger– curiosity, or maybe, challenge.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he growls, turning away from you to grab the towel again. He roughly wipes at his face, but all it does is smear the blood further, leaving streaks of red down his cheeks and neck.

“Doesn’t look like it,” you reply, surprising yourself with the firmness in your tone. You set down the first-aid kit and cross the room to him, stopping just out of arm's reach. He stiffens, but doesn’t move away.

Up close, you notice every detail: the bruises forming along his knuckles, the tension in his jaw as he grits his teeth, the way his chest heaves with every breath. The blood on his face only sharpens his already striking features, and the raw energy radiating from him sends a shiver down your spine. 

“You’re gonna need stitches, Will,” you say, pointing to the gash on his temple.

“I said I’m fine,” he snaps again, though his voice lacks the same venom as before. He turns to face you fully, his green eyes locking onto yours. “Why are you still here?”

You hesitate, searching for the right words, but all you can think about is how disheveled and angry and utterly captivating he looks. Against all rhyme and reason, the sight of him like this– raw, unguarded– sparks something within you.

“Maybe because you look like you could use someone who isn’t scared to tell you the truth,” you respond, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

He blinks hard, caught off guard for a moment, before a smirk tugs at his lips– a sharp, dangerous thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he challenges.

You nod, stepping closer. “Yeah.. and the truth is, you’re an absolute fuckin’ mess, but…” Your eyes linger on the blood streaked across his face, your pulse racing as you meet his gaze once more. “It suits you.”

For a moment his anger dissipates, replaced by something darker– something more calculated. His eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The air between you feels electric, the tension sharp enough to cut through.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with warning. “You might not like where that talk gets you.”

You swallow hard but hold your ground. “Maybe I do,” you say, the words out before you can stop yourself.

His smirk deepens and, for a moment, the frustration and exhaustion in his posture seems to melt away, replaced by pure intrigue. He steps closer, close enough that you can feel his heat radiating off of him, and tilts his head slightly. The cut on his forehead is still bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to notice– or care.

“Is that so?” he retorts, his voice a low rumble. His hand twitches at his side, almost like he’s debating whether or not to close the distance.

You don’t flinch, your eyes never leaving his. “It is.”

Neither of you move. The tension is thick, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, as if to test you, he leans in, his voice dropping lower.

“You’re playing with fire, love,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. 

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Maybe I like the burn.” 

For the first time since he stormed in, his gaze softens, just slightly, and the corners of his mouth twitch in what might almost be a real smile. The anger in his eyes has faded, replaced by something more complex– something that feels like a reward and a challenge all at once.

“You’re something else,” he mutters, shaking his head slightly as he finally takes a step back and sits on the bench. But the way his eyes linger tells you he’s far from dismissing you.

As he grabs the towel again and starts wiping at his face, you silently grab the first-aid kit from the counter. He doesn’t stop you this time as you step forward, your fingers brushing against his hand as you take the towel away.

“Let me,” you whisper softly, and for once, he doesn’t argue.

He glances up, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you thought you saw something soften, but then his jaw tightened and he leaned back, gesturing to his face. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

You stepped closer, tilting his chin slightly to get a better look at the wound. The proximity makes your breath hitch– he was even more striking this close, his intensity nearly overwhelming.

“This might sting,” you warn, dabbing a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic on the cut.

He hissed through his teeth, his hand twitching before gripping the edge of the bench. “Bloody hell, Y/N, you trying to kill me?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t be dramatic. You’ve been through worse.”

His gaze flicked to you, a hint of amusement breaking through. “You’ve been watching my matches, then?”

You falter for a moment, the teasing in his voice catching you off guard. “It’s part of the job,” you reply, focusing on cleaning the wound to avoid his eyes.

“Right,” he drawled, his tone dripping with skepticism. “And I’m guessing you just happened to be watching tonight?”

Your cheeks heat up, but you keep your composure. “Like I said, it’s my job.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”

“Hiding what?” you asked, feigning ignorance as you reached for the bandages.

“The way you’re looking at me,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Like you don’t know whether to patch me up or pin me down.”

Your hand freezes mid-air, his words sending a jolt of electricity through you. You glanced over at him, meeting his gaze, and found his smirk snugly in place. The anger he’d walked in with had been replaced by something smug, something dangerous. 

“Careful, Will,” you tease, trying to keep your voice steady as you press gauze on his cut. “You’re not as charming as you think.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you. “Is that right? Because judging by the color of your cheeks, I’d say I’m doing alright.”

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to back down. “You should save that energy for the ring,” you shoot back, your voice tinged with amusement.

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why waste it on a crowd when I’ve got you right here?” 

The air between you cracked with tension, the lines of professionalism blurring with every passing second. You step back slightly, needing space to catch your breath, but he didn’t let you off the hook so easily. 

“You’re good at this,” he says, nodding towards your handiwork. “But I can’t tell if you’re more interested in fixing me up or staring me down.”

“Maybe both,” you say before you can stop yourself, the words slipping out in a moment of boldness.

His eyes darkened, the teasing smile on his lips turning into something more serious. “You’ve got a dangerous mouth on you, don’t you, love?”

“Only when it’s deserved,” you reply, your voice soft but steady.

He stood to his feet, towering over you, his presence making the room feel smaller. “And do I deserve it?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken intent. You didn’t answer– not with words, anyway. Instead, you let the tension carry you forward, your hand brushing against his chest as you tilt your head up.

His lips were on yours before you could think twice, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you disappears. Your professionalism, your carefully crafted boundaries– all of it melted away in the heat of the moment.

When you finally break apart, your breath comes in short gasps, and his forehead rests against yours.

“Still think I’m not as charming as I think?” he murmured, his voice low.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw– a small amount of his blood collecting on your index finger. You gaze into his eyes as you bring your finger to your lips, the metallic taste hitting your tongue and drawing a low moan from your throat. “You’re getting there.”

He bites his lip at you, his eyes darkening as he watches you suck on your fingers. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

His lips are back on yours in an instant, pulling you into him by your hips as he walks with you to the bench, sitting back down as you climb on top of him. You pull apart again and run your fingers through his sweat and blood clad strands, watching as the cut continues to ooze droplets of fresh crimson.

“You’re still bleeding, Will,” you whisper against his lips.

“You gonna clean me up then, love?” his eyes glimmer up at you, watching you closely as if to dare you to make a move.

And you do, bringing your lips to his temple and pressing a soft kiss to the wound, a low growl emanating from his throat. Your tongue pokes past your lips and licks a stripe along the cut, collecting the liquid on your tastebuds and pulling back, licking the excess off your lips. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re trouble,” he moans.

“What, can’t handle me?” you smirk at him, cheeks flushed and blood stained on your lips.

“Oh, I can do more than that, love.” he teases.

“Then prove it.” you murmur as you connect your lips once more, moaning into the kiss as his bruised hands ravage your body, digging into your sides as he rocks your hips against his cloth-covered bulge. He hisses at the contact, his lips falling below your ear to nip the sensitive skin, his heavy pants along your earlobe sending chills throughout your body. Your hands move from their resting place on his shoulders to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from him and lifting the material over your head before discarding it somewhere across the room. His hands trail up your spine as he takes you in, his fingers toying with the clasps of your bra before removing it and tossing it to the side. 

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ stunning, Y/N.” His eyes take in your exposed chest and torso, committing the image of you to his memory– the smooth skin of your chest and the way it rises and falls with each breath, your perfectly shaped breasts, even your hardened nipples all being permanently ingrained in his mind. He finds himself gravitated to you, his lips finding the skin along your collarbone and pressing firm kisses to the area– trailing downward to your breasts. His eyes find yours, glazed over in lust, before abruptly wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking hard on the bud. A whispered curse falls from your lips as you arch into his touch, your hips involuntarily grinding into his. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he groans– while continuing to suck and bite your skin.

Your hands tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the strands as he gives your other nipple some much needed attention– alternating motions of licking, sucking, biting. Before long he’s attempting to flip you over onto your back, but you stop him.

“Let me take care of you, Will. Please..” you whisper against him. He pulls away from your breasts, pressing his forehead against yours.

“And how might you go about doing that?” he asks, but rather than answering his question with words you respond with actions– climbing off of his lap and falling to your knees in front of him, bringing your hands to his thighs and running your fingers slowly over the material. He gets your hint, chuckling darkly at you below him before removing his pants and boxers– his cock springing free and hitting his stomach. You lick your lips at the sight of him before you; he was very well kept, little to no hair along the base leading to a long and thick shaft with prominent veins, which trailed up to his tip– pink and glossy in his arousal. 

“Go on then, love,” he coaxes you, forcing you to look up at him through your lashes, “take care of me.” You nod, wrapping your fingers around him, leaning down to press your lips to his tip with a soft kiss and collecting his precum on your tongue before replacing it with your spit– using your hand to lubricate the rest of his cock, pumping him before wrapping your lips around him. He hisses, throwing his head back and placing a hand on your cheek and watching as your lips hollow around him. You suck on the tip, giving kitten licks to the sensitive head as you do, while he curses under his breath and his hand gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail– guiding your head further down his cock.

You make eye contact with him as your mouth goes further down his shaft, your eyes beginning to water the further down you go. He guides you, helping you bob your head on his length as you continue hollowing your cheeks on him and dragging your tongue along the veins of his cock.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re so fuckin’ good at this…” he moans out loud, giving you the confidence to relax your jaw and take him in your throat. He grunts as the tightness of your throat squeezes his cock, his hips involuntarily bucking in your mouth. Tears slowly stream down your cheeks as you take him, gagging occasionally on his cock as he fucks your throat. You look up at him once more, eyes watery, as he watches his cock slide in and out of your throat.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re fucking incredible, baby. Taking me so well.” he groans as you come up for air, stroking him as you move to his balls, sucking them and taking them in your mouth. Your thighs squeeze together at his words, feeling your own arousal pooling in your panties as you pleasure him. He notices, however, and brings a hand to your chin– lifting your head up to look at him.

“It’s my turn, love. Come lay down for me, yeah?” You rise to your feet, climbing back on top of him and kissing him, the taste of him still sitting on your tongue. He flips the two of you, your back laying on the bench as he positions himself between your thighs and hooking his calloused fingers in the waistband of your leggings, pulling both your leggings and panties off of you in one motion. Your pussy glitters before him, soaking wet in your need for him and dripping off your thighs. 

“Bloody hell, you’re fuckin’ soaked, love. Who did all this, hmm?” he teases.

“Will, please–”

“Uh, uh, answer me, Y/N...” he threatens gently.

“Fuck, Will… you did. Now plea–” A gasp from your throat interrupts you as Will licks a stripe along your folds, groaning as he tastes your wetness.

“So fuckin’ sweet…” he murmurs, placing wet kisses along your opening and up towards your clit, now red and swollen– begging to be touched. His lips wrap harshly around the bud, using his tongue to play with it as his fingers dipped into your folds and teased your entrance. He gently pushes two inside, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels your walls squeeze around them, thrusting deep inside you– curling his fingers enough to brush lightly against your g-spot, making your eyes squeeze shut and the fingers that were again tangled in his hair to gently pull.

“F–fuck, Will… I–”

“Yeah? Feels good, hmm?”

“Mmm, please…”

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you need, baby.” he mutters against you.

“F–fuck me, p–please…” you whined, “I– I need you.”

Will doesn’t hesitate, lifting his head and pulling his fingers out of you, cleaning them with his tongue as he climbs on top of you. His hand grips the base of his cock and teases your entrance, watching your brows furrow as you whimper underneath him– begging him to do something, anything. 

“I’m gonna absolutely fucking ruin you, Y/N.” he whispers.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you whisper back.

His cock pushes inside you, his length stretching you gloriously. You gasp loudly as he goes deeper, bottoming out inside you as you adjust to his size. He pulls out enough to leave just the tip inside, slamming back into you and gradually increasing his thrusts. The bench creaks underneath you as he gets faster and faster, but it’s the last thing on your mind as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“So… fucking… tight” he grunts with each thrust, your moans matching his as he fucks you. He throws one leg over his shoulder and pounds you hard, the new angle allowing the tip of his cock to directly hit your g-spot over and over again.

You can’t control the moans and cries falling from your lips, the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the right ways making you spiral out of control. You are at his mercy, at his will, and there is nothing you can do about it.

You feel something fall onto your cheek, causing you to come back to reality for a second as you look up at him and notice the gash on his forehead is still dripping blood– less than before, but still bleeding nonetheless. He notices too, watching as his blood drips onto your face and stains your skin. He brings his head to your cheek, licking it clean and locking your lips once more, allowing you to taste him on his tongue before pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re all mine, understand? Got my blood on your tongue, blood on your face, and now I’m gonna fill this pretty cunt full of my cum…” he grunts in your ear, his hips snapping into yours at a dangerously delicious pace, “I’m going to consume you, love. Tell me who you fucking belong to, Y/N.”

“Y–you, Will. I’m yours, I– oh fuckkk…”

“I feel you, baby… you’re close, huh?” You moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders, making him hiss.

“I’ve got you.. go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” With one last thrust you tighten around him, your vision turning white as you cry out, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you coat his cock in your juices. He follows you, releasing himself inside you with a groan, filling you completely. For a few moments you both lay there, his body on top of yours, soaking in the ecstasy of your respective orgasms as you collect yourselves until he reluctantly pulls out of you– the mixture of yours and his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. The two of you are still trying to steady your breathing, feeling rocked after what just happened. After a moment, you regain the ability to speak.

“Will...” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Are you finally gonna let me clean that cut now?”

He chuckles, looking at you laid in front of him with a gleam in his eye. 

“Alright, alright, fine. Patch me up, love,” he smiles, “But if I get to fuck you like that every time, don’t be surprised if I start doing this,” he gestures to the cut on his forehead, “on purpose.”

You laugh, shaking your head at him while getting up off the bench and walking to grab the first aid kit– but not before getting a harsh smack to your ass. You gasp, turning around to face him as he puts his hands up in surrender.

“What?” he laughs, “I never said I was gonna make it easy for you.” He winks, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back in to straddle his lap. God, this is going to be a long night.

[madhatterbri]

New Year, Same Mistakes | J.W.

Summary: Y/N's darling ex reminds her how many times they've hooked up since breaking up. Since it's January 1st, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight for the new year.

Author's Note: Happy New Years and Fight for the Fallen, babes. ❤️

Jay White Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

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

Y/N stared in horror at her ex. There was no logical way they had sex again. This had to be a mistake. She must be getting pranked. No amount of alcohol consumption could have made her sleep with him again.

Jay's menacing blue eyes shined in delight. His hand showed five fingers to symbol the five times they've had sex.

The first time, there were still emotions involved. He was getting his stuff from her apartment. She knew she should have had one of her friends over. He wore her favorite clothes. A red shirt with the sleeves and part of the sides cut off. Those shirts were always her biggest weakness. One long gaze at him, a simple question about whether she liked what she saw, and she was his.

The next time happened at a low point for her. Despite weeks of talking to another man, he stood her up one night. While walking to the car feeling embarrassed, she heard a familiar voice call for her. She knew she should have kept walking away. Her mind told her to keep walking, but her feet didn't get the memo. In the end, the King Switchblade warmed her bed.

The third time wasn't her proudest moment. Her car was in the shop, getting worked on. Bored, and with nothing to do, a simple message told him to come over. Always thinking between his legs, he rushed over to her place. By the end of the day, her car was fixed.

"Can't get enough of me, can you darling?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

Shortly after the fourth time, Y/N knew she had to stop this. Neither of them would be able to move on if this kept happening. The back and forth between the two couldn't be healthy. She attempted to have a conversation with him. Jay laughed it off and told her what they were doing wasn't wrong. Two adults had fun, and he couldn't wait to hear from her next.

Y/N was doing so well until New Year's Eve. Her eyes locked on him, and she almost melted in the spot. He was dressed in a suit. His hair was up in a bun. Before she could even comprehend her actions, she was dragging him back to her hotel room.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

I’ll play with you sir 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️