#he just wasn’t Roman-y enough

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: girl bye this whole part is just screaming n crying omg be prepared

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authors note: wanted to make a little unexpected visit at the end given his character but yk 😋 let me know if u arent on the tag list yet !! interact w me thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

long story short, the group collectively agree to postpone this dinner night because of what happened. just as you left the restroom, drew was gone and were instead met by leila who told you they were leaving to eat at the pearl some other time.

you feel terrible that they had to witness what they did, and you assume they must’ve seen you and drew talking in the hallway for them to make this decision. they know something’s wrong between you two, and you almost break on the spot. it’s like the whole plan is crashing down and you don’t know what to do, how to move forward.

you and drew travel in different cars on the way home but to end off the night, the group splits up. some dress down and head back to explore the town at night or there are others who choose to stay home, just keep a respectful distance.

you rid of your clothes and step into the shower to collect your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to cry from frustration. the steam curls around you, the hot water beating down your back like it’s trying to wash the weight of everything away—but it doesn’t.

no amount of heat or scrubbing can erase the guilt, regret, and shame that engulf you.

when you finally step out, your skin is red from the heat, and you wipe a hand over the fogged mirror, catching a glimpse of your own tired reflection. your new clothes cling to your still-damp skin, and your hair hangs heavy and wet down your back.

when you step out of the bathroom, the cool air bites at your skin, but that’s not what makes you freeze. you see him—drew—walking toward your shared room. he’s freshly showered, his hair slightly wet, and you realize he must’ve used the bathroom across the hall that gia and roman share.

for a split second, your eyes meet, and you have to bite down on your emotions, hard, before you can speak. before you can let it all flood out.

you get to the door first, quietly letting yourself in, then leaving it open so he comes in too. the air between you feels heavy—like there are words unsaid. you can hear the faint sound of music downstairs, theo’s voice talking low, maybe to leila, but it’s distant. they must be trying to let you talk without feeling like you need to worry.

you step into the room, moving toward the dresser on your side of the room. your hand rests on top of it, gripping the edge for balance, as if the solid wood can keep you grounded. your back is to him, but you can hear him enter. he stands there for a moment, probably watching you, probably waiting for you to say something.

the silence is unbearable.

“why didn’t you just tell me?”

your voice comes out quietly, almost too low for him to hear. you don’t turn around, your eyes focused on the lamp in the corner of the room, as if looking anywhere but at him will keep you from falling apart. your hand tightens on the dresser as you wait for him to answer.

you hear him shuffle behind you, his breath catching like he didn’t expect you to speak first. “i . . . i don’t know,” he says, his voice just as quiet as yours. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

you swallow hard, blinking rapidly as the familiar burn of tears threatens again. you know he’s trying to be honest, but that answer—it’s not enough. it doesn’t fix anything.

“you didn’t want to hurt me?” your voice wavers, and you finally turn, facing him. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you like he doesn’t know how to fix the mess he’s made. “this wasn’t even just a few days either. this has been weeks—weeks of us talking, planning, pretending . . . and the whole time, you were lying.”

as you walk over to him, he opens his mouth to respond, but you can see the guilt weighing him down, making it impossible for him to speak right away.

“not only were you lying to them,” you gesture loosely, meaning the others, everyone, “but you were lying to me.” you point to your chest as your voice cracks, weak and filled with betrayal.

his face tilts slightly to the side, and though he’s staring at you, his eyes are glossing over. you can see the weight of what he’s done finally sinking in, and it’s tearing him apart. he swallows hard, his throat tight.

“i didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his voice trembling now. “i never wanted—”

but he stops, his words catching in his throat, and you can see the tears threatening to spill. his jaw tightens as he forces himself to keep looking at you, even though it’s breaking him inside.

“no, but you did,” you tell him. “you made this decision. you created this plan when you had mila back home, drew.”

he winces at her name. you can see it. but you don’t stop.

every day, every conversation, every moment you’ve spent together, he knew. and he said nothing.

your words slow down though, and the weight of them sinks in deeper. “i had finally gotten to a point after we broke up where i felt like i was free of us,” you say, voice quieter now, but raw. “i didn’t have to worry about things like this anymore. i was finally done with us.”

drew’s lips part like he’s about to say something, but he can’t, and you don’t give him the chance. “but here i am.” you let out a short, breathless laugh, as though even you can’t believe the mess you're in. “i mean, i didn’t think agreeing to this plan was going to work out perfectly, but—”

you stop, searching for the words, your throat tight with emotion. it takes everything in you to keep from crying. you look away from him, your voice going numb, the exhaustion seeping through. “but i didn’t think i’d end up feeling like this. like none of it ever really ended.”

you stand there for a moment, letting the weight of everything hang between you two. you wipe at the corner of your eye, then shake your head slightly, more in disbelief than anything else.

“so why?” you ask, “why didn’t you just tell me? why didn’t you say something from the beginning, when we started this whole thing?"

he looks at you, his jaw clenching, but his eyes are filled with guilt. he takes a deep breath, his face turned slightly to the side like he's trying to hold himself together.

“i fell in love with you,” he says, and you scoff. oh, he’s just now fallen in love? he realizes his mistake and gets up when you start to walk away, but he grabs you by the arms, “no, no, no, y/n please, i fell in love with this life—being with you again. i didn’t want to lose that. i’m still in love with you. i always have been. i just realized it too late.”

you can’t believe him. “but you did lose it, drew.” your voice is quieter now, but no less intense. “you lost it the moment you decided to lie. you didn’t just ruin this plan, this stupid fake relationship.”

you shrug him off of you.

“i thought,” your voice cracks, “i thought telling our friends the truth would make everything worse. i was so scared they’d feel like they had to walk on eggshells around us, like it’d be awkward if they knew what happened. but you know what? i wish i’d just told them. instead of this. instead of . . . all of this.”

“and it’s not just about mila,” you say, “even when you’re supposed to be my fake boyfriend, you’re still making decisions for me. you speak for me, like you always know better, like i can’t speak for myself.” you can feel your frustration bubbling to the surface, the heat rising in your chest as you push forward. “it’s like . . . no matter what happens, you still feel like you need to control everything.”

drew’s mouth opens slightly, like he’s about to respond, but you can’t stop now. the words tumble out, each one hitting you harder than the last.

“i mean, do you know how exhausting that is?” your voice rises, and you can feel your emotions slipping, coming out faster than you can stop them. “you made up the plan, you pulled back the moment i was getting comfortable again, even our breakup was your decision.”

his expression hardens, and you can see the conflict raging behind his eyes. “i thought we agreed there wasn’t any point in keeping up something that was barely there,” he says. “we were hardly talking or communicating, y/n. i mean, trying to keep up a relationship for us that wasn’t even really there? was it . . . do you think it would’ve been better if we didn’t break up? i mean—”

“yes! yes, it was worth it! i didn’t care if we weren’t always together!” you blink, caught off guard for just a second, but the fire inside you flares back to life. “and you said there wasn’t any point; not me. we’re busy people, drew, lives like ours don’t get spent every day how these two weeks are supposed to be. you have to know that. so i’m sorry that you felt enough was enough for us but you shouldn’t have had to decide what you thought was best for both of us and make that decision on your own without telling me!”

as you speak, you notice the way his face shifts, confusion and regret flickering in his eyes.

you exhale, shutting your eyes. “trust me, i spent nights worrying about us when we were together, replaying every moment, every doubt.” your voice lowers, becoming more vulnerable, almost a whisper. “and i told myself, ‘okay, that’s normal. that’s normal maybe. so you didn’t get a fairytale relationship; grow up.’”

“but i understood that . . . no matter what, i wouldn’t have left you because i loved you,” you cry, “i stayed because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

drew’s face crumbles at your words, and his gaze drops to the floor. you take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you meet his gaze again. “look, i’m not going to say anything to anyone about mila,” you say. “but you need to figure this out, how we move on from here, and whether you’re going to tell her about this plan because i’m not gonna keep doing it if she’s not comfortable with it.”

drew nods slowly. he’s quiet, visibly processing everything. “i’ll do it,” he says, almost to himself, but you nod anyway. he takes a shuddering breath, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally speaks. “i didn’t mean to lose you,” he says, staring at the ground. “but i did. i know that now.”

you watch him for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between you, before you turn away. your hand reaches for the door, and this time, you don’t hesitate.

“yeah, you did,” you whisper, voice broken as you open the door and hurry through, leave him standing there alone. “you did.”

drew stands there, frozen in place as the silence settles around him. he watches when you walk away until the laughter from outside fades into a distant echo, and he sinks down onto the edge of the bed, his body heavy with regret.

“—fucking—” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. he leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, and cradles his head in his hands while tears spill from his eyes. in that moment, he’s completely alone, engulfed by the realization that he pushed away the one person who mattered most.

“i’m gonna be back, okay?” libby tells you. you’re sitting in her bed, her and leila feeling like it’s only reasonable for her to step up, and she would’ve no matter what.

“hey,” you say before she goes, your fingers reaching her arm. she halts, looking at you again as she settles back down on the edge of the bed. “thank you for letting me sleep here tonight.”

she gives you a knowing look. “there’s no need y/n. my job is to make sure you’re comfortable and okay. your job is to get under my covers and drool on my pillows ‘til morning.”

“shut up,” you murmur and consider whacking her in the face with one of said pillows, but she leans forward to give you a hug. it’s gentle at first, and you’re relieved to feel a warmth from someone at a time like this. you feel like you can stay there forever, but she pulls away to leave the room.

there’s a knock at the door that startles you a bit, and you wait anxiously for who’s behind it. they open it quietly and peek their head in—roman?

he lets himself inside with cautious steps, and before you can speak he shushes you.

“keep it down, stupid,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows at him. he takes maybe two steps forward and then stops there. “i just wanted to say sorry for not saying anything before at the peel.”

“the pearl.” you nod, your lips pursed. “thanks.”

he deadpans at you. “i don’t do this very often so i’d appreciate more than just a thanks, you kn—” he pauses to rephrase his words, and you can see the gears shift in his head. he sighs. “i fully saw that you were upset and i didn’t do anything. part of it was because i didn’t know if i should’ve but the other was that the food was just really good—”

“roman,” you try to tell him to get out, but he persists.

“no,” he tells you. he tries to search for the right words before continuing, “i’m just sorry. i don’t want to make it seem like i don’t care or that you don’t have anybody to talk to. and i’m not gonna jump the gun or be all enthusiastic the next time this happens but . . . i just won’t be quiet anymore.”

you’re taken aback by roman’s unexpected display of concern. you can’t tell if you’re imagining this. this has to be the first time you’ve probably ever known him that he’s being like this. but you nod slowly, absorbing his words. “thank you, roman,” you say softly, appreciating the effort he’s making. “it means a lot that you care.”

he shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional territory but pressing on anyway. “good,” he replies, his voice a little firmer. “because i might not always show it, but i do care. just . . . don’t think you have to go through stuff alone, alright? we’re friends, i guess, even if i don’t always act like it.”

you smile faintly, still surprised that he’s even still standing there. “i get it. i appreciate you saying something.”

“goodnight, y/n,” he says. just as he’s about to leave, he glances back, a knowing look in his eyes. “and just so you know, i get that things are complicated with starkey, but it’s pretty obvious you two aren’t really together. you don’t have to pretend around me.”

your heart skips a beat, and you feel a rush of vulnerability. how much does he really know? but before you can question him further, he’s already slipping out the door.

at the same time, libby slides past him with mugs of hot cocoa, “ew, what are you doing here?” she says to roman, avoiding him like he’s her brother. “get out of here.”

she kicks the door closed behind her, and her mood switches to a smile. “what was all that about? oh my god— did he hurt you? did he infect you?” she asks, feigning concern as she plops down next to you and handing you a mug. you take the mug and just shake your head with a grin.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull

[bijouxcarys]

Just Your Tribal Chief (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Description: In the chaotic world of WWE, where titles and egos clash, the Women's World Champion faces a new kind of challenge: her own boyfriend, Roman Reigns...

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, angst, slight daddy kink, dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex (m recieving), semi-public sex, voyeurism, lil bit of choking, Tribal Chief-mode...

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: @trippinsorrows (literally don't know who else to tag so if you want to be tagged in any future Roman fics, let me know!)

Her face was hard as stone as she followed her boyfriend, struggling to keep pace with his towering strides. Despite her own formidable strength—she wasn’t the undisputed WWE Women’s World Champion for nothing—his height advantage was undeniable.

She had earned her title through relentless dedication, ever since she started training at fifteen. She had bulldozed through her opponents, male and female, during her NXT days and earned her place on both RAW and Smackdown. Being assigned as a Free Agent in the 2023 draft by Hunter had been the culmination of years of sacrifice.

That’s when the chaos began.

Interviews, talk show appearances, high-stakes matches—nothing could deter her from her goal. Her ultimate triumph came at Wrestlemania 39 when she vanquished the one and only Charlotte Flair. It took her long enough to comprehend that she had in fact defeated the daughter of the man she’d sat and watched hours of as a kid. But it happened.

Life was perfect; she was the champion, her boyfriend retained every time. Pure bliss, right?

No.

Just… no.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today?” Y/N spat, slamming the door behind her as they entered his locker room. His. Of course, his.

“Me?” Joe laughed, running a hand over his face as he paced the length of the room. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Yeah, you. You’ve been bitching all day, Joe!” She crossed her arms, her eyes ablaze.

“Oh, I’m Joe now,” he jabbed a finger into his chest, halting his stride. “Out there, I’m Roman Reigns, undisputed champion—but in here, I’m fuckin’ Joe.”

Y/N was baffled. Joe hated being referred to by his ring name when they were alone; he despised being treated like a superstar off the clock. So what was this?

“Last time I checked, your name was Joe,” she huffed.

“And the last time I checked, my girlfriend didn’t let men leer at her like she’s a whole ass meal on a plate.”

She laughed bitterly, amused by his newfound insecurity. She had never seen this side of him before. They had joked about it, but it had always been about his magnetic presence and how women practically swooned around him.

“Aw, are you jealous?” she taunted, leaning forward. “Is that what this is about? Does my success fracture your delicate little ego?”

She wasn’t about to let anyone, especially a man, undermine her. Not even when it was hers.

“You get off on this, huh?” Joe’s brows narrowed as he stepped closer. “You get off on antagonising me all the damn time!”

“Antagonising you? I was doing a fucking interview, you insecure prick! What am I supposed to say—oh, sorry, I can’t talk today, my Tribal Chief is a little fragile, let me come back once his dick is intact again!”

“Oh, my dick be stayin’ intact, babygirl, you know that better than anyone.”

“Don’t fucking detract, Joseph.”

“I’ll stop detracting once you admit that… guy out there was gunnin’ for your number. My boy’s eyes couldn’t even stay focused!”

As they argued, they closed the distance between them, Y/N’s neck craning to meet Joe’s intense gaze. She couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing him riled up, though she knew this wasn’t genuine anger. She recognised angry Joe, and this wasn’t him.

This was angry Roman.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N chuckled, her nose inches from his. Joe’s lips curled into a sneer before he straightened, taking a deep breath.

“Joe–”

“I’m not gon’ tell you again, Y/N…” he began, his voice measured, before he lowered his head, his eyes locking with hers, darker and more menacing. “When we in these four walls. This arena. Hell, when we at work…” He loomed over her, metaphorically trapping her, though she was free to leave if she chose to.

“I’m Roman Reigns. Ain’t no Joe here. Do you see Joe in this room right now, baby?”

She bit back a grin, revelling in the tension. Damn, she was fucked up, but she loved it.

Before she could respond, his large hand encircled her neck, holding her in place.

“I asked you a question,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding.

Her irritation melted into a dull ache low in her abdomen, her thighs clenching involuntarily. She exhaled shakily, struggling to maintain her composure.

“No…”

The whisper conveyed everything he needed to know.

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on her neck. “Now, are you gon’ make it up to me, or are we gon’ keep fighting?”

Y/N swallowed hard, the air between them electric. “Make it up to you?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes, testing him.

He didn’t reply with words. Instead, he closed the distance between them, his lips crashing down on hers with a fervour that sent shivers along every inch of exposed skin on her body. The kiss was demanding, urgent, reflecting the tension that had been simmering all day.

His hands travelled down to her waist, gripping her possessively as she responded with equal passion, her fingers tangling in his hair, just below where it was all neatly held together in a characteristic man bun. They stumbled backward until her back hit the wall, pinning her in place with his weight. Breaking the kiss, he gazed down at her with dark, smouldering eyes.

“You know exactly what to do, babygirl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that weakened her knees. “Show me just how sorry you are.”

Her breath hitched, heart racing as she nodded, her fingers already working to unbutton his pants. The anticipation was almost unbearable, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.

She sank to her knees, a willing captive to his dominance. Joe chuckled, pleased with her compliance.

“Even when we arguin’, you still so desperate for this dick,” he taunted as she tugged down his pants and briefs. She didn’t have to look up to know he was smirking—that signature smirk that always had her pulse quicken.

“Well, sometimes it’s the only way to get you to shut up,” Y/N retorted, unabashedly cheeky as she stroked him with a deliberate slowness, savouring his reaction.

“Babygirl, that mouth of yours better get to work before I do somethin’ ‘bout it.”

Instead of following through immediately, she paused, her hands resting on her thighs. Eyes wide and provocative as she looked up at him innocently.

“What are you doing?” Joe asked, narrowing his gaze. Her innocent facade only fuelled his frustration.

She simply shrugged, maintaining her coy demeanour.

A slow, understanding smirk spread across his face. “Oh, you wanna play that today, huh?” His voice was low, almost a growl, filled with a predatory hunger.

Y/N licked her lips slowly, teasingly, her eyes glued onto his. “Maybe I do,” she murmured with a slight husk.

Joe’s smirk turned into a wicked grin. “A’ight then, babygirl, let’s see how long you can keep this up.”

Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back slightly, not enough to hurt her, but enough to assert his dominance. Y/N’s heart raced, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine. She loved when he took control, loved the raw, primal intensity that radiated from him in moments like this.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough and authoritative.

She complied, her wide eyes locking with his. The room seemed to shrink around them, the outside world fading away as their focus narrowed to just the two of them. They didn’t even care that someone could walk in at any moment.

“You know what I want, don’t you?” Even though his tone was softer, it still carried a growl in its undercurrent.

“Yes…”

“Then stop playin’ games and show me.”

With that, he released her hair, his hand moving to the back of her neck, guiding her forward. She didn’t need any more encouragement. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his length, her other hand resting on his thigh for balance, and took the bulbous head between her lips. Slowly. Just enough to savour the taste of him.

Joe let out a low groan, his eyes closing for a moment as he felt the warmth of her tongue circling the sensitive skin. “That’s it, babygirl,” he murmured, his hand tightening slightly. “Just like that…”

She worked him with a deliberate slowness, swirling and teasing around him—torturing him with every movement. She traced the tip of her tongue along the bulging vein that stood out prominent along the underside of his cock, applying pressure at the correct places. Just that alone caused a light throb against her, his breathing to grow heavier, more ragged with each passing second.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled with a strained cadence. “You gon’ make me lose my damn mind.”

Her response was a soft hum, the vibration shooting right through him. She loved having this effect on him, loved knowing she could drive him to the edge with just her mouth. Increasing the pace slightly, she took him deeper, her fingertips digging into his thigh for further leverage.

Joe’s hand slid from her neck to her jaw, guiding her movements, dark eyes surveying her every move. “That’s it, baby, take it all…” he encouraged lowly. “Show me how much you want this dick.”

It was inevitable that his gravelly words made her moan around him. Made her core tighten around nothing. Throat relaxing, she forced more of him into her mouth, pushing herself to her limits. Eyes watering from the effort.

“Fuck,” Joe hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this.”

She pulled back slightly, gasping for breath as she ran her hand along his length, coating the entirety with residue spit. Before he could even process it, he was back in her mouth, and her warm palm was skillfully lowering to pay attention to his full balls. A steady massage. The combination was almost too much for him to handle.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned. “You keep that up, and I ain’t gon’ last much longer.”

Y/N pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his throbbing cock. She looked up at him with a hint of arrogant pride. “Maybe that’s the point,” she teased breathlessly.

“Oh, you think you’re clever, huh?”

She nodded, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Maybe.”

He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up to her feet and pressing her back against the wall. “We’ll see how clever you are when I’m done with you,” he growled, his lips smashing against hers in a bruising kiss.

She whimpered into his mouth, hands flying to his broad shoulders as she clung to him. His punishing assault had her arching into him, her body pressing against him in a desperate attempt for any friction. She even went as far as to roughly tug at his bun, clumsily pulling the hair tie from his head and letting it snap around her wrist for the time being. The way his hair framed his face when down and free had her yearning. Every. Single. Damn. Time.

Rough, calloused hands played with her, yet failed to relieve any of the growing arousal below her waist. He squeezed at every curve he could grasp, a non-verbal worship of the woman in his arms, despite his harsh demeanour.

“You want this, babygirl?” he murmured against her lips, dragging her across the room with him. “You want me to fuck you? Here? With everyone walkin’ around outside?”

“Yes,” she gasped as she felt the back of her legs hit the couch. “Please, Joe.”

He chuckled darkly, pulling back to look at her. “Sorry, who?”

“Roman,” she corrected herself quickly, voice shaky. “Please, Roman…”

“Good girl.” Even though, in essence, he praised her, one could not miss the slight condescension woven between the words. A condescension that intensified as he guided her back until she let her weight fall onto the plush, cushiony surface behind her. With one hand propping himself up, his other traced light circles along her bare leg, slowly creeping further up until it disappeared under the skirt that started it all. The short, form-fitting skirt she chose to wear that day for her interviews. The one that showed off the shapely contours of her body—toned legs and all.

He hadn’t even gotten beneath the thin material of her underwear and he could already feel the dampness collecting on the fabric. “Damn, so wet for me already.”

She whimpered, bucking her hips against his hand, desperate for more. “Please,” she begged weakly.

Narrowing his eyes down at her, he gauged her reaction, every contortion in her face, as his fingers gingerly slid beneath her panties, barely grazing her weeping folds. That alone caused Y/N to let out a breathy moan, her head falling back against the couch as the small grant of relief encompassed her.

“You like that, huh?” he taunted, allowing the tip of his middle finger to apply the slightest pressure, scarcely touching her sensitive nub. “You like it when Daddy touches you like this?”

“Yeah…” She furrowed her brows at the sensation of Joe’s fingers dragging downwards, teasing around her entrance. He lowered his head down to hers, pressing a light kiss to her forehead before he pushed forward, allowing a single finger to slide into her with ease.

It seemed almost immediate that she clenched around him, the bare minimum sending her into utter bliss.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he groaned with a smirk, lips moving to brush against her ear. “I can’t wait to dick you down, babygirl. Feel all this,” he added his ring finger without warning, steadily stretching her in preparation, “around me.”

Y/N was trembling with need, her body threatening to take her pleasure by grinding into him, but she refrained, knowing the outcome was always a prize in the face of anticipation.

“Please, Roman,” she sighed, moving her head to look up into his eyes. “Please.”

He continued to taunt her, pulling his fingers from her pussy, only to lift them up to his mouth to suck them clean. “It’s a damn shame you ain’t gettin’ no head right now when you taste so good, baby.”

She wanted so badly to cuss him out, to stop this whole thing and make him suffer further. But she knew better. This was all part of the game, and they both loved every second of it.

“Ass up, babygirl,” he smoothly demanded, leaving no room for argument as he nodded his head to the side.

Like clockwork, she obeyed, flipping herself onto her hands and knees, finding a place on the couch arm to prop herself up. Back arched, she presented herself to him. For him to use at his disposal. One look ahead and she was caught by the sight of their own reflection in a full-length mirror. Their eyes met, and a smug little smirk appeared on his face as he braced himself on the couch behind her with one knee propped up.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, tracing the pre-cum soaked head of his cock along her folds, shimmying the tight fit of her skirt up and over her ass so he had the perfect vantage point.

“Always ready—please,” she whimpered, teeth clamping down onto her lower lip. “Please, Roman, fuck me.”

It was almost brutal, the swift motion that allowed him to sink into her tight hole. She tightened around him within seconds, the burning stretch taking over her entire being for a moment. His thickness stung her, impaled her. Claimed her.

His face strained with his stubborn attempts at refraining himself from going to town on her pussy, his hand momentarily leaving her ass to tug his shirt off. Now she had the glorious sight of not only her needy body bent over for him, but also the perfectly sculpted structure of this Godlike human’s body.

Whilst he started out slow, giving her the benefit of letting her adjust, it wasn’t long before he’d fallen into a brutal pace, hands grabbing at her hips as skin collided and sweat beaded up all over both of them.

“Mm, that pussy singin’ for me, baby, y’hear that?” he chuckled airily, leaning back to watch as her core hungrily swallowed his thick dick, the glisten of his shaft when he withdrew, just to slam it back in. The noises were lewd, and entirely theirs.

Y/N could barely think, her body consumed by sheer ecstasy, all provided for by him. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her, building a steadfast pressure as she hung onto the couch for dear life. Her body jolted forward each time his hips collided with hers, a groan reverberating in her chest when he swung particularly hard.

“Can’t even speak, I’m fuckin’ you so good…”

As much as she hated to hand him a perfectly stroked ego on a fucking platter, she couldn’t argue with that very simple fact.

“H-harder,” she managed to squeak out.

Always happy to destroy her, he lifted his leg to plant his Jordans-clad foot on the couch, allowing him to build up momentum as he obliged, his thrusts becoming animalistic. She reached back to grab at one of his hands, pulling it lower and guiding it towards her clit.

“Needy lil’ girl,” he chastised, but happily circled her swollen clit with a rhythm that matched the ferocity of his thrusts. Glancing up at the mirror, the sight sent him into overdrive; her mouth dropped open, her face flushed and makeup smudging around her eyes. “Look at you, babygirl… how fuckin’ beautiful you are takin’ this dick.”

She let out a moan, starting to viciously bounce back against his dick, a fiery look in her eyes as she, too, watched their reflection putting on a picture perfect show curated for an audience of two.

“That’s it, mama… Goddamn, you takin’ me so well.” Joe’s body careened over hers, shadowing her entire form with his. His lips were ghosting beside her ear as he roughly purred, “Remind me to make you sit on my face when we get home.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, body rippling as his large arm circled her neck, holding her against him as he went to town on her cunt. Her head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as she felt her climax barreling closer.

“Nuh-uh, baby, open those eyes,” he mumbled into her ear. “Need to see those pretty eyes when I nut in this pussy.”

With a strained whine, she obeyed, forcing herself to open her eyes and look ahead of her.

“Good girl… fuck, Y/N.”

“Oh my God…” she groaned.

“Ain’t no God here, babygirl,” he started, tightening his arm around her neck. “Just your Tribal Chief.”

That did it for her, she arched painfully, pussy fluttering around his shaft. “Roman… I’m gonna cum—fuck, yess, keep going…”

“Yeah? You gon’ give me that nut, huh?” He nodded at her, his hair falling around them as he pressed his lips into her neck, dragging his long tongue over her salty skin, teeth baring down on her as he felt her clench so tightly around him. “Gon’ cum on Daddy’s dick like a good lil’ slut?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, please–”

“Ain’t nobody make you feel this good ‘cept me, baby. You got that?” he said through clenched teeth, pummelling his hips into hers. When she only responded with a shaky whimper, he yanked her against him. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes! Nobody can fuck me like you, Daddy, only you!”

“Damn right… go on, aulelei, cum for me.”

She didn’t need to be asked twice. Without further effort, she let out an elongated whine, high-pitched and unbothered by the very public location. Convulsing, writhing, ears buzzing, she released harshly on his cock, squeezing him so intensely, she could see the effects of it on his face in the mirror. 

“Goddamn, that pussy cummin’ so hard,” he breathed with a low chuckle. “You want this nut, baby? You want it?”

Garnering the last of her energy, she nodded fervently.

“Tell me. Tell me you want it.”

“I-I want it…”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to cum inside me.”

“You want who to cum inside you?”

“You!”

“And who am I?”

The sensitivity was too much, and her hips jerked, the aftershocks stunning her pussy as Joe chased his high like a cheetah with its prey.

“I said,” he ripped his hand away from her clit, landing a sharp sting of a slap to the side of her ass in the position they were in. “Who. Am. I?” He emphasised each word with a jolting thrust.

“Roman Reigns! Fuck, you’re Roman Reigns…”

“That’s right… You gon’ get this Tribal Chief nut, and you gon’ take it.”

“Yes, please, please give me it all…”

“A’ight, baby.” His movements became erratic as he soon found his release, practically roaring as he hit his zenith, spilling into her in hot ropes.

All Y/N could do was stay in his grasp, her weight completely limp in his arms as she allowed him to empty his frustrations deep inside her. She already knew she’d be feeling it seeping out later into the day, but that’s what she loved so much about it; the hidden reminder that she was his, and nobody could come close.

For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies entwined, breathing heavily against each other. Eventually, with a huff, Joe pulled out, shoving himself back in his pants and turning her over to face him. His tepid fingers stroked over her hair as he gazed down at her, eyes softening.

“You okay, babygirl?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. “More than okay,” she hummed, leaning into his touch.

Unlike last time, the kiss he planted on her lips was a stark contrast to his roughness. “Good,” he whispered against her.

“Are you actually upset with me? Y’know… about the interview stuff?” she asked quietly.

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “Not in the slightest… I’m proud of you,” he let her know earnestly, lightly grazing his lips over her nose. “And I love you.”

Y/N grinned, almost giddily. “I love you too.”

“Dammit, Uce, again?!”

Both Joe and Y/N snapped their attention to the locker room door, where a flabbergasted Jey stood with a take out bag from Waffle House in his hand.

“Oh, yeah,” Joe smirked. “I asked the twins to get us some food,” he casually told her.

Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open a bit. “You’re such a dick.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

important business ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2362

request?: no

description: she goes to visit him at work, and he decides her visit requires his undivided attention

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, finger fucking, kind of voyeurism?, praise, multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

The sound of stilettos against the tile floors made Roman’s secretary’s ears perk up. There was only one woman who ever came to the Godfrey Institute.

(Y/N) Godfrey was already smiling as she came around the corner. It would look like a friendly smile to anyone else, it’d be friendly to the Institute employees even, if she wasn’t married to the owner of the company. (Y/N) was nice enough, but she had an intimidation to her as well. And Roman loved her so much that he would fire anyone who so much as upset her even a little.

(Y/N) leaned against the desk. “Hey Anne. Is Roman in? I got a text from him asking me to come by the office.”

“He’s in his office on a phone call,” the secretary, Anne, responded. “I can page him to let him know you’re here.”

“No bother. I’ll see myself in.”

Anyone else would be stopped immediately. No one else was allowed to interrupt Roman under any circumstances. But Anne already knew how this was gonna go. Asking to page Roman was only a formality at this point; a rouse of professionalism on both of their parts.

(Y/N) let herself into Roman’s office. He was sat forward, leaning against his desk with the phone in one hand, pressed against his ear. He glanced up as (Y/N) shut the door behind her. His face gave nothing away, but she knew it was his eyes to look at. They lit up the moment she walked into the room.

“Let me call you back, Paul,” Roman said into the phone. “My wife just got here.”

He hung up before hearing the response. (Y/N) raised a playful eyebrow. “I don’t think he’s going to appreciate you cutting him off like that.”

Roman waved away her comment. “Paul is an idiot who doesn’t know jack shit. Listening to him talk makes my brain melt, so I’ll take whatever excuse there is to not talk to him.”

“So, is that why you texted me? To be an excuse?”

“Of course not.”

Roman extended his arms, gesturing for (Y/N) to come closer. She smiled and crossed the room to him. He turned his desk chair to face (Y/N) as she moved around his desk. Roman wasted no time in pulling her onto his lap, moving her legs to straddle him. She was wearing a deep red dress that was knee length and tight to her body. It rode up her thighs as she sat on Roman’s lap, giving him access to cup her ass cheeks.

Roman’s lips found their way to her neck. Her eyes fluttered at the feeling of his soft lips kissing every inch of her neck. He found her sweet spot at the base of her neck, and began to suck at the sensitive skin. (Y/N) let out a moan. She quickly covered her mouth and pushed away from Roman as she remembered herself.

“Rom, we can’t!” she said. “We’re in your office. What if someone walks in?”

“Fuck ‘em. It’s my company. If they have an issue with me fucking my wife, they can start looking for a new job.”

(Y/N) wanted to be firm. It was definitely a bad idea to have sex in Roman’s office, in a building full of his employees who could walk in at any second. But also, it was incredibly hot to see how nonchalant he was being about wanting to fuck her in his office, as well as the general idea of fucking Roman in his office, was turning her on.

He picked her up suddenly, causing her to exclaim in surprise. He kicked the chair away from the desk and shoved anything in his way onto the floor. He placed (Y/N) onto the desk, shoving her dress up so it was bunched around her hips, completely exposing her lower half to him.

(Y/N) and Roman held eye contact as Roman lowered himself to his knees. She watched as he reached out to the intercom that had managed to stay on his desk. He clicked the speaker button and said, “Anne, cancel whatever I have scheduled for the next hour. Anyone comes looking form, I’m busy.”

Anne’s response came almost immediately, “Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

“She definitely knows what’s happening now,” (Y/N) said.

“I’ll give her a big fat bonus for Christmas.”

Roman hooked a finger into her panties and pulled them to the side. She shivered as his hot breath hit her core. She was about to tell him not to tease her, but it seemed Roman didn’t intend on leaving her waiting for long. He dove into her like a starved man. His tongue immediately dove into her already wet pussy, darting in and out at a pace that was driving her crazy already. (Y/N) gripped Roman’s hair, still a little slick from the hair gel he had put in that morning.

He ran his tongue from her hole up to her clit. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub and began to slowly swirl his tongue around it. (Y/N)’s back arched in pleasure. She was biting her lip to try and stifle her moans. She nearly whimpered when he pulled away.

“Don’t you dare muffle those noises,” he told her. “I want the entire building to hear how good I make you feel.”

As if to punctuate his demand, he slipped a finger into her. (Y/N) gasped at the feeling. Roman smirked, satisfied with the noise. He went back to wrapping his lips around her clit while he fucked his finger in and out of her. It was nearly impossible to muffle herself now. To really make sure he got his request, Roman added a second finger and curled them to touch the spongey spot inside (Y/N).

She threw her head back and cried out Roman’s name so loud he was sure the entire floor could hear her. He smirked against her.

The lewd squishing sounds of Roman finger fucking her mixed with her moans filled the room. All of (Y/N)’s concerns about being heard or caught had disappeared completely. All she could think about was Roman; Roman’s tongue on her clit, Roman’s fingers inside of her, how badly she wanted to feel Roman’s dick stretching her out and fucking her ruthlessly.

“Roman,” she moaned. Her fingers curled tighter against his hair, grabbing at the roots and tugging harshly against his dark locks. Roman moaned into her at the feeling. “F-Fuck, I feel so close already.”

“Cum on my fingers then, baby,” he said. “That’s a good girl, let yourself go.”

Her orgasm ripped through her suddenly. She writhed against Roman’s lips, moaning and panting, Roman’s name slipping from her lips. He lapped at her, letting her ride out her high against his face.

When Roman pulled his fingers from her, she actually whimpered at the loss of contact. He stood from the floor, standing over her. He kept eye contact with her as he brought his two fingers to his mouth and sucked them between his lips. The dull ache of post-orgasm between her legs turned into an ache of desire as she watched him suck his fingers clean of her juices. His mouth and chin were still glistening with her.

He pulled her in for a kiss, and she could even taste herself on his lips. It was taking everything in her power not to rip Roman’s pants off right then and there.

As if reading her mind, Roman pulled away and started to unbuckle his belt. “Turn around and bend over the desk. Take your panties off, too, but leave the dress on.”

(Y/N) quickly did as he demanded. She slid her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside onto the office floor. She turned so her back was to Roman and bent herself over his desk, presenting herself to him. She heard the rustling of clothes as he undid his pants and pulled them down. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. She jumped when she felt one of his hands against her hip, then moaned upon feeling the hot head of his cock swiping through her folds. They hardly needed any further lubrication when she was already so wet.

He pushed into her at an agonizingly slow pace. She could feel every inch of him as she stretched out around him, until finally he was completely filling her. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling. Roman reached for one of her hands, intertwining their fingers together. It was a moment of sweetness before she knew what was to come.

Roman gave her just enough time to adjust to being stretched around him before he was ruthlessly pounding into her. The sound of his fingers inside of her had been replaced skin slapping against skin every time he thrusted inwards. With one hand, (Y/N) was still gripping onto Roman’s hand, while the other one was holding onto his desk for support. Not that she thought the desk was going to give much support since it felt like it was about to fall apart at any moment.

Through the haze of lust, (Y/N) managed to giggle at the thought. It was replaced quickly by a gasp when Roman’s other hand found its way to her hair and roughly pulled her off of the desk.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still roughly fucking into her.

“I-I was thinking about if w-we broke your desk,” she admitted. “It sounds and feels like it may just collapse from under me.”

Roman chuckled at the thought as well. “I guess I’ll just have to get a new, better built desk that can handle just how rough I like to fuck my wife.”

He pushed her back down so that her chest was pressed against the desk again. He put his hand between her shoulder blades, holding her into place. He looked down to watch himself pull out then disappear completely into her. Her ass jiggled every time his pelvic bone met her there. She felt so good, so warm and wet wrapped around him, fitting perfectly around his cock.

There were many things Roman loved about his wife, and one of the top things was how it felt like she was made for him.

The sounds she was making was music to his ears. The feeling of her wrapped around him was heavenly. He never wanted to stop fucking her. If he had a choice - and didn’t have a company to run - he’d spend his days home with her, fucking her in every room of their house, on every surface, until they were both worn.

Roman felt his high creeping up on him. He brushed (Y/N)’s hair off of her face so he could see her. She was positively fucked out, her eyes glazing over with haze and her mouth just hanging open.

“Do you think you can give me one more, baby?” he asked her. “I’m getting close. I want us to cum together.”

She lazily nodded her head. He chuckled. “Do you think you can do it, or do you want my help?”

“No,” she said. “I can do it.”

The hand that wasn’t still holding Roman’s reached between her legs to start rubbing circles into her clit. She could feel him as she pressed on her clit, almost like she was tightening around him. It wasn’t going to take much to make her cum again, but she still quickened her pace so that Roman wasn’t waiting long. Next thing she knew, pressure was building up in her stomach again.

“I’m close,” she breathed.

“Hold on, baby, I’ll tell you when.”

Roman took hold of her hip with one hand, never letting go of her other hand, and thrusted harder. (Y/N) was crying out in pleasure at the feeling of him abusing her g-spot. Through gritted teeth he told her, “Now.”

They let go at the same time, (Y/N) pulsing around him as he coated her walls. He buried himself completely inside of her, making sure not a single drop was wasted. (Y/N) laid her head against the hard wood of Roman’s desk, trying to regulate her breathing.

It wasn’t long before Roman, begrudgingly, had to slip himself from her. He helped her to stand up from the table, although her legs were still shaky. He took her into his arms and brought her to the couch he had in his office so they could both sit down. (Y/N) settled back into Roman’s arms and rested against his chest.

“So this is why you texted me,” she said after a few moments of silence. “So we could fuck in your office.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Can a man not ask to see his wife just because he wants to see her?”

“He can, but the second I walked through the door you were all over me.”

“Can you blame me when you walk in wearing this - “ He pulled at the hem of her dress, which she had almost forgot she was wearing. “ - looking so fucking sexy?”

She giggled as she snuggled further into his chest. “I guess it is partially my fault. Especially when my plan was to walk in here and get your attention dressed like this.”

“You always have my attention. This definitely helped though.”

They both laughed. Roman kissed the top of (Y/N)’s head. She moved so she was facing him and could kiss his lips.

“How much time do you think we have?” she asked him. “Since you asked Anne to clear your schedule for an hour.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It definitely hasn’t been a full hour.”

“Well, let’s use the rest of that time wisely.”

Before he could ask what she meant, (Y/N) was moving to the floor to kneel between Roman’s legs. He smiled, putting his hands behind his head as he watched her pull his still unbuttoned pants down again.

Oh yeah, I am the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

[lewisvinga]

because i liked a boy , part ii. | carlos sainz x fem! reader

part one.

summary: carlos sees how y/n is thriving after their break up and he couldn’t help but feel regret, especially after seeing how she moved on.

fc; nicki nicole

warnings; cursing , reader is implied to be a spanish speaker, uhhh idk what else

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested ! this is set over a span of a couple of months btw ! this is a long one for me icl

masterlist !

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and others

yourusername: por las noches [at night] remix out now!

thank you pesopluma for giving me the chance to feature on this track, had so much fun collabing with you!

tagged; pesopluma

username: OMG MOTHER

username: this song is so….💔💔

username: her voice + peso’s voice 😫

username: yall think it’s abt carlos???

pesopluma: fue tan divertido trabajar contigo, hasta la próxima! 🖤😁 [it was so fun working with you, until next time!]

yourusername: gracias por darme la oportunidad 🥹🖤 [thank you for giving me the opportunity]

username: omg wasn’t she rumored to date him before carlos??

username: they just shared a mutual friend 😭

username: ‘solita me dejarás’ [you’ll leave me alone] was 100% aimed at carlos for not defending her 🙁

username: the emotions in her voice, i just know that break up hurt her

lilymhe: idk what you’re saying but your pretty voice makes up for it 😫🫶

yourusername: love uuuuuu

username: when she said ‘todo lo que yo te di y todo lo que me diste, fue pa' nada’ [everything i gave to you and everything you gave to me, was for nothing] i felt that shit in MY SOUL😖😖

username: omg omg omg carlos liked!!!

username: my roman empire is cary/n

username: carlos still liking her posts and following her 🥹🥹

username: “voy a preguntar por qué todos nuestros sentimientos se quedaron en ayer” [i’m going to ask why all of our feelings stayed in yesterday] has me in my FEELS, miss y/n you ate w that🤒

alexandrasaintmleux: amazing! always so talented 🩷💐

yourusername: thank u alex 🥹🫶

username: my ferrari wags💔💔

username: this song seems like the last goodbye to carlos tbh, like she’s letting alllll of her feelings out before moving on bc in her recents she looks so happy🥹🥹🥹🥹 liked by yourusername !

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others!

yourusername: “ALMA”, my first album, is finally out! and if that wasn’t enough, official dates for ALMA tour is also out! presale link in my bio. 🖤🖤🖤

username: HELLOOOO?????

username: IM SLDKSKDO

username: trust I WILL BE GOING TO MADRID TO SEE HER

carmenmmundt: i better get front row seats in madrid!!

yourusername: i’ll get them for you #trust

username: anybody notice how the opening show is in madrid ??? coincidentally before the start of the season??

username: i noticed too omg, i’m convinced the tour was planned before her and carlos broke up so he could see her🥹

username: carlos liked this post too!

lilymhe: OH EM GEEEEE IM SO EXCITEDDDDDD liked by yourusername!

username: working extra shifts rn

carlossainz55: felicitaciones! [congratulations] knew you could do it! liked by yourusername!

username: cary/n💔💔😭😭

username: IM SO HYPED FOR THIS

username: so you’re telling me we might hear ‘because i liked a boy’ and ‘por las noches’ LIVE???!!

yourusername: maybeeeeeee

alexandrasaintmleux: already ready for when they officially go on sale! making charles also use his phone and laptop😌😌

yourusername: alexxxxx🥹🥹🫶🫶

carlos congratulations on the album and the tour, i know how hard you’ve been working on both.

y/n thank you, carlos. yeah, i have been working hard despite certain bumps in the road 😊

carlos listen, i’m so sorry. i should’ve defended you more. it was my mistake and i was blind and stupid and i lost you. i lost an amazing girl.

y/n yeah! you were stupid

y/n i was getting death threats and i was told that it was ‘complicated’ to make a post!

y/n but it’s fine, i’m over it.

carlos well i’m not over you.

y/n deal with it, carlos sainz. you messed up. you lost me.

carlos just give me one more chance, por favor, mi amor. [please, my love] te lo juro, [i swear to you] i won’t fuck it up. please.

y/n no. i have a tour to prepare for. goodbye, carlos.

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others

yourusername: MADRIDDDDD❤️🇪🇸 thank you for creating happier memories for me in this beautiful city. you’re all so special to me🖤🖤

username: ‘happier memories’ rmbr when she’d always be seen in madrid w carlos 🥹

username: OOMF ON TWT SAID SHE SAW CARLOS THERE W CARMEN AND GEORGE AND A MYSTERY GIRL

carmenmmundt: i think i lost my voice from screaming so much🤣 george is even worse!! but amazing like always 💞💞

georgerussell63: broken spanish and don’t have a clue what you said, but i somehow lost my voice

yourusername: it means sm to me that you both enjoyed 🥹🖤

username: MOTHER HAS MOTHERED

username: buenos días y k vivan los mujeres😍 [good morning and long live women]

username: el mejor concierto de mi vida😫😫 [the best concert of my life]

username: streets are saying carlos was there w another girl????

username: the way you guys stopped hating on her the moment she ended things w carlos, you guys are sick!!

username: literally, she was always that girl but since she was dating their fave……

username: idc i never liked her

landonorris: womp womp!

landonorris: waiting for u to come to england

yourusername: soooooon😁

alexandrasaintmleux: so excited for the monaco concert 🩷🩷

yourusername: can’t wait to see you and charles!🫶

liked by carlossainz55, pesopluma, and others

yourusername: special guest in cdmx [mexico city] tonight 🙈 tqm [ilysm] 🖤🖤

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: MI REINAAAAAA😍😍😍 [my queen]

pesopluma: la vida es mejor contigoooooo, tqm❤️❤️ [life is better with you, ilysm]

yourusername: 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🖤🖤🖤

username: the way he looks at her, i am unwell

username: she looks so happy w him🙁🙁

username: friends to lovers is REALLL

username: mis faves

username: cdmx concert was the best one

username: POR LAS NOCHES LIVE>>

lilymhe: cuties🫶 2x date next time ur in town??

yourusername: of course 😖

username: not carlos liking 😭

username: wonder how carlos feels realizing he fumbled a bad bitch like y/n for not defending her online

username: the way peso pluma said ‘i’d defend her with my life, that’s how much i love her’ during his lil speech during the concert was so🥹🥹

username: i’m so happy that she looks so happy and relieved, AND THE COMMENT SECTION HAS NO TOXIC FANS!!

username: 😖😖😖😖😖😫😫😫💞

carlos so you’re dating your ‘friend’ now huh

y/n weird i don’t remember asking.🤣

y/n he was there for me when i was getting death threats and being called a slut for nothing. he was there to comfort me when i cried over the thousands of hate comments under every post.

y/n something you never did.

carlos wait until he finds another girl and will dump you. you know how it is when people get that famous that fast. he won’t treat you well.

y/n HA what a joke. very funny, sainz.

y/n weren’t you the one to bring a girl to MY concert?? but i’m the bad guy for moving on and dating someone else???

y/n you’re pathetic, sainz.

carlos admit it, you know i’m right

y/n fuck off, he treats me better than you ever did

carlos sure. sure he does.

y/n move on, sainz. move on.

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and others!

yourusername: princess treatment only 💞🥹 muchas gracias, mi rey🖤 [thank you very much, my king]

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: lo mejor para usted, mi reina❤️ [the best for you, my queen]

yourusername: mi amor 🥹🫶

username: literal goals

username: mis padres

username: a relationship like them pls

username: the way she went from carlos to peso pluma>>>>

username: SHE SAID PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY ‼️‼️ WE ONLY WANT MEN WHO DEFEND US‼️‼️ liked by yourusername !

username: she looks sooooo happy n free i love it

username: as much as i miss cary/n, peso pluma really does treat her like a queen

lilymhe: ITS WHAT YOU DESERVE BBY!!!!! liked by yourusername !

username: oh i just know lily knows the real shit abt carlos and y/n

lilymhe: i am neither confirming not denying…

landonorris: cool but can u tell him to get on his pc and join the game🙄🙄🙄🙄

pesopluma: on it 🫡

charles_leclerc: WAIT FOR ME

username: wait omg he’s friends w the drivers????

username: duh, she’s besties w the wags , ofc he’s gonna know their bfs

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous gorgeous girls date wonderful amazing guys who make them happy💐🩷🩷

yourusername: well that also makes you a gorgeous gorgeous girl! ilysm🫶🖤🥹

username: wonder how carlos feels knowing he lost y/n to a guy who treats her better AND is friends w his friends 😭😭

username: if i was him i’d be sooo pissed 😭

username: imagine if he was begging for her to take him back

yourusername: lol imagine

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader, bucky x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.1k

chapter: 1/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE LAST TIME YOU fought the Avengers, you didn’t just leave a mark—you left scars. They were supposed to be Earth’s mightiest heroes, but they couldn’t even handle you alone. Your power wasn’t just raw strength or fancy tech. No, you were chaos, untamed and unpredictable. You had fun, didn’t you? Watching them scramble, trying to keep up as you dismantled their team, piece by piece.

The streets of New York were your playground. Thor swung his hammer, lightning crackling in the air, but you were faster. You sidestepped, sending him crashing into a nearby building. Tony tried to come at you from the skies, a barrage of missiles raining down. With a flick of your wrist, you sent them spiraling back into his suit, and watched with a smirk as he plummeted to the ground.

Then there was Natasha, sharp, lethal, and far too clever for her own good. She tried to get close, slipping through the chaos to land a blow. You almost admired her for that. Almost. But you caught her wrist before her knife could make contact, twisting it just enough to disarm her without snapping it—because where’s the fun in ending the game too soon?

And Steve, Captain America himself. Righteous, noble, irritatingly persistent. He charged at you, shield raised, eyes burning with determination. But his resolve only made you more excited. You met him head-on, your strength colliding with his as you deflected the shield with a grin. You knew it wouldn’t last forever. You knew they’d eventually overwhelm you with numbers or some sneaky trick. But that didn’t matter. For a while, you were winning. And that’s all that mattered.

It had taken all of them, working together, to finally bring you down. And when they did, they didn't leave you in some cushy maximum-security prison. No, they put you in The Raft—the highest of high-security prisons for supervillains. They wanted to make sure you couldn’t wriggle out and wreak havoc again.

Funny thing is, you didn't mind.

You lounge in your cell at the Raft, feet kicked up, arms folded behind your head. The guards pass by occasionally, but they don’t bother with you much anymore. No point. You’re the least troublesome prisoner they’ve got here. Not exactly the model inmate, but you’ve made it clear you weren’t going anywhere. You didn’t mind the Raft—no noisy world, no chaotic battles, just peace. Besides, you always enjoyed the looks people gave you. The way they seemed unsure if you were calm or just waiting to snap.

“Psychotic,” they called you. Maybe they weren’t wrong. But if that’s what it takes to keep things interesting, then so be it.

The Avengers. Now that’s where the fun had been. Fighting them, teasing them, pushing them to their limits. Especially Stark. He hated that he could never figure you out. You’d gotten under their skin in a way no one else had. And even though you were eventually caught, dragged off to this fortress in the middle of the ocean, it didn’t feel like defeat. No, it felt more like… a vacation.

The tension in the Avengers HQ could be cut with a knife. Seated around the long, sleek table, everyone had their eyes fixed on the glowing hologram floating in the center, displaying a map riddled with flashing Hydra insignias.

“Hydra’s moving faster than we thought,” Tony Stark said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “They’ve got new tech, new firepower, and something else—something we don’t understand yet.”

Steve Rogers leaned forward, his jaw set in that familiar determined way. “We’ve taken down Hydra before. We can do it again.”

“We didn’t take them down,” Natasha Romanoff chimed in. “We knocked them back. This is different, Steve. Their intel’s better. Their strategy is… smarter.”

Steve crossed his arms, frowning deeply. “We are the Avengers. We have faced threats from beyond this world. Surely this Hydra can be beaten.”

Bruce Banner, quiet until now, shook his head. “No, Steve. This isn’t like our usual enemies. Hydra’s moving like they know every step we’re going to take before we make it. And whatever they're building—it’s got enough gamma signatures to make me nervous.”

That last statement made everyone pause. Even Clint Barton, who’d been silently fidgeting with an arrow, stilled his hands.

“Great,” Clint muttered. “So not only are they out-thinking us, they’ve got Banner-level problems in their back pocket. Awesome.”

Sam Wilson leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the hologram. “There’s got to be a way to track them. Cut them off before they finish building… whatever that is.”

“I’ve tried,” Rhodey said, his voice exasperated. “Hydra’s cloaking this thing like it’s Fort Knox, and every time I send in recon, we come up empty-handed.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Everyone was thinking the same thing, even if no one wanted to say it. The Avengers were backed into a corner, and they hated being in this position. Hydra had outmaneuvered them before—but never like this.

Tony leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "There’s one option we haven’t considered."

Steve’s eyes snapped to Tony, immediately suspicious. “What’s that?”

Tony glanced around the room, hesitation clear on his face for the first time in a while. “We bring in someone who knows how to deal with these kinds of dirty tactics. Someone who’s unpredictable… dangerous.”

“Oh, no,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “We’re not doing this.”

“What?” Clint asked, glancing between them. “What are we not doing?”

“You know exactly who he’s talking about,” Natasha replied, her voice cold.

Bucky Barnes, sitting quietly in the corner, shifted in his seat. “You mean her.”

“Yup.” Tony gave a tight smile. “her.”

“You can’t be serious, Stark,” Steve said, his tone edging into anger. “That… that psycho is locked up for a reason.”

“Yeah, well, unless you’ve got any other brilliant ideas for how to get through Hydra’s defences, I’m all ears,” Tony shot back, standing up now. “I get it, Cap. She's not exactly on our Christmas card list, but facts are facts. When we fought her, she nearly wiped the floor with us. She's good—too good.”

“That’s because she's insane,” Bucky said, his voice low, dangerous. “You think she's going to help us out of the goodness of her heart?”

“No, but she’ll help because she likes causing chaos, and right now, chaos is what we need,” Tony replied.

Bruce, still seated, raised a hand. “You’re suggesting we trust someone who has a history of, uh, not playing by the rules?”

“I’m suggesting we use someone who’s good at breaking things. We can handle the clean-up afterward,” Tony said. His tone was sharp, but there was logic behind it.

Steve stood up, crossing his arms, clearly trying to contain his frustration. “No way. We’re not that desperate.”

“We might be,” Sam said, leaning back in his chair, though his expression was skeptical. “I don’t like it either, but Tony has a point. Hydra’s not playing fair. Maybe we need someone who knows how to play dirtier.”

“I’m not working with her,” Steve said firmly. “We don’t need someone like that. We’ve beaten Hydra before.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Clint muttered under his breath. “Not when they’ve got the upper hand.”

Rhodey, who’d been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “I hate to say it, but we’re out of options. We need something to break this deadlock. Even if it’s a wildcard.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “This is a mistake.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Probably. But we don’t have time to sit around and weigh the pros and cons. Every minute we waste, Hydra’s getting closer to finishing whatever nightmare they’re cooking up. We need to act.”

There was a long pause as the team exchanged glances, weighing their options. No one wanted to admit it, but they were out of ideas. And you were the only person who could help.

Steve finally exhaled, nodding once. “Fine. But if this goes sideways, it’s on you, Stark.”

Tony gave a small, triumphant smirk. “Trust me, Cap, I’ve got it handled.”

When they arrived at the Raft, the air was thick with tension. The Avengers weren’t exactly the kind of people who made house calls to criminals, and it showed on their faces as they were led down the long, sterile corridor toward your cell.

You knew they were coming long before they reached you. Hydra must have had them in knots for them to come crawling back to you. The idea was almost enough to make you laugh.

Lying on the small cot in your cell, your arms stretched behind your head, you kept your eyes closed. The hum of the Raft was soothing, a far cry from the chaos of the outside world. It was almost meditative.

Then, the cell door slid open with a sharp buzz, but you didn’t bother moving.

“Stark,” you said lazily, eyes still closed, voice dripping with amusement. “What, come to throw a going-away party?”

The Avengers stood before you, and when you opened your eyes, you didn’t miss the mix of tension and frustration on their faces.

“We need your help,” Tony said bluntly, cutting straight to the chase.

You sat up slowly, a lazy grin spreading across your face. “You must be really desperate to come to me for help.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but you raised a finger, cutting him off. “Let me guess. Hydra’s doing something nasty, and you’re stuck. Can’t get your shiny suits dirty, so you come to me, the wildcard.”

Steve glared at you from the back. “This isn’t a joke.”

You grinned wider. “Oh, I know it’s not, Captain. But I have to say… this is going to be fun.”

The Avengers stood there, tense, unsure. And you? You were in control, and it felt fantastic.

You strolled into the Avengers compound, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, wrists cuffed in front of you with those annoying power-suppressing restraints. They’d made sure of that, didn’t they?

Of course, they had. The Avengers weren’t stupid. At least, not completely.

Around you, the team walked in a tight formation, like you were some kind of wild animal they needed to keep on a leash. Tony was up ahead, chatting with FRIDAY about god knows what, Steve right beside him, walking with that stiff-shouldered tension that was so him. Behind you, Natasha and Clint followed, their eyes boring holes into the back of your head. You could almost feel Bucky’s glare from across the room, like he was daring you to make a wrong move.

But you weren’t going to make a scene. Not yet.

“Gotta say,” you drawled, glancing around the compound, taking in the high-tech security, the polished floors, the holographic displays flickering along the walls. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Real homey.”

You whistled softly, admiring the upgrades. The last time you’d seen the compound—well, it hadn’t exactly been in one piece. You might’ve had something to do with that, but hey, nobody’s perfect.

“Hope you didn’t put in too much work fixing it up after our last meeting,” you added with a grin, turning toward Tony. “Wouldn’t want all that effort to go to waste.”

Tony didn’t miss a beat, glancing over his shoulder at you with a raised eyebrow. “Funny. I seem to remember you being more concerned with trying to take my head off than interior design critique.”

“Potato, po-tah-to,” you said with a shrug, as if it was all just some fun memory. You could feel the others bristling behind you, no doubt regretting this decision more with every word you spoke.

Steve’s jaw clenched, his voice low and commanding. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Easy there, Cap,” you replied, enjoying how his fists tightened just a bit more. “I’m here to help, remember? Or did you bring me back just for my sparkling personality?”

“Let’s not test that theory,” Natasha cut in, her voice cool but sharp. “You’re on a short leash here.”

You grinned wider, turning to give her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

The group led you further into the compound, and you let yourself take it all in. It was strange being back here, walking freely (well, as freely as the cuffs allowed) through their precious headquarters. Last time you were here, they’d been chasing you down, trying to stop you from doing what you did best—causing chaos. Now, they were practically welcoming you with open arms.

Funny how things changed when they needed you.

As you passed by one of the large windows, you caught a glimpse of the sprawling training grounds outside. Stark’s money had definitely gone into this place—it was a fortress. High-tech, polished, the works. But beneath all that shine, you knew what was really going on. Desperation. They wouldn’t have come to you unless they had no other choice.

“So, what’s the play?” you asked, breaking the silence as you sauntered forward, hands still shackled but your posture loose and casual. “You bring me in, throw me at Hydra, hope I don’t enjoy myself too much?”

“You’re going to do what we tell you,” Steve said firmly. “No more, no less.”

You met his gaze, that stoic, unflinching look he always gave, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Yeah, sure. That’s exactly how this is gonna go.”

Clint, ever the quick shot with a retort, piped up. “If you don’t follow orders, we’ll make sure you regret it.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch Clint’s eye, your grin widening. “You threatening me, Barton? I thought we were all friends now.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Behind you, you could sense Bruce watching quietly, keeping his distance but always on edge, probably ready to Hulk out the second you made a wrong move. Bucky was the same—silent, seething. Everyone in the room knew you were a threat. Everyone knew that the cuffs on your wrists were the only thing keeping you from unleashing a storm.

But what they didn’t know was that you were actually enjoying this little game. They were walking on eggshells around you, pretending they had everything under control, but you could feel the tension crackling in the air. It was palpable. Delicious.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence again as you strolled past the holographic displays, glancing at one that showed a map of Hydra’s activity. “What exactly is it you need me to do?”

“You’re not in a position to ask questions,” Steve answered, his voice firm and unyielding.

You rolled your eyes. “Still playing the Boy Scout, huh? Fine. I’ll bite. But just so you know, I’m not here for the teamwork, Captain.”

Tony let out a small chuckle at that. “We’re not exactly looking for team spirit. We need someone unpredictable. Someone who can get into Hydra without raising alarms.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I’m your guy,” you said with a wink. “Hydra and I go way back. They’ll be thrilled to see me again.”

“And that’s what worries us,” Natasha replied, eyes narrowing as she studied you. “You’ve got a history with them. We’re not letting you go in unsupervised.”

You sighed, feigning disappointment. “Always so serious, Romanoff. Fine, keep your watchdogs on me. Just don’t blame me when I get bored.”

The group finally stopped in front of one of the briefing rooms, Tony gesturing for you to enter first. You raised your cuffed hands slightly, giving them a little shake. “And these?” you asked. “Gonna make it a little hard to do anything useful.”

“They stay on until we’re sure you’re not going to turn this into a free-for-all,” Steve said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You stepped through the door with a shrug. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

As you entered the briefing room, the large screen lit up with detailed schematics of Hydra’s new operation. Bases, weapons, movements—things even you hadn’t seen before. It was impressive. Even more impressive that they were willing to trust you with this kind of information.

Then again, trust was a fragile thing here, wasn’t it?

You took a seat at the table, leaning back in the chair as best you could with your hands still cuffed, watching the Avengers file in around you. Tension filled the room like a thick fog, everyone waiting to see what you’d do next.

“Well,” you said, kicking your feet up onto the table, flashing them a cocky grin. “This should be fun.”

The briefing room hummed with energy, a silent current of tension hanging thick between you and the Avengers. Tony took his place at the head of the table, arms crossed, tapping his fingers against his bicep impatiently. Steve stood just behind him, the shield slung across his back, his posture stiff. The others filtered in, taking up their positions like chess pieces ready for a match.

You leaned back in your chair, cuffed hands resting on the table in front of you, a lazy smirk playing on your lips. “Alright,” you said, stretching your legs out. “Why don’t we cut to the chase? What’s the big Hydra mess you need me for?”

Tony glanced at Steve, who gave him a short nod, the silent agreement of reluctant allies. Tony activated a holographic display on the table, bringing up a 3D map of several cities across the globe. Red dots flickered ominously, marking Hydra's known operations.

“You already know Hydra’s been rebuilding,” Tony began, his tone sharp and focused. “But this isn’t their usual underground terrorist network anymore. They’ve got something bigger, more coordinated. And now, they’ve been making moves we can’t trace. Military-grade weapons, tech we haven’t seen before, and worst of all, something that’s throwing up red flags on our radiation sensors.”

“Gamma signatures,” Bruce chimed in, his face serious. “A lot of them.”

Your eyebrow lifted, intrigued. “Gamma, huh? That sounds like fun. They planning on making their own Hulk? Gotta say, that’s a bold move.”

“It’s worse than that,” Bruce continued, eyes darkening. “They’ve been siphoning gamma energy from somewhere, but we don’t know what it’s for yet. And if they’re storing it, they could be trying to build a weapon.”

“Something big enough to level cities,” Natasha added, her voice cold. “Or worse.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Always with the doomsday weapons. Hydra really doesn’t know how to take a break, do they?”

Clint gave you a hard look. “This isn’t a joke. If they get this thing operational, it’s game over for a lot of people. Not even you want that kind of chaos.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” you quipped, leaning forward slightly. “But go on. Tell me what makes you think I care enough to get involved.”

Steve stepped forward, leaning on the table as his blue eyes locked onto yours with that intense, all-business stare of his. “Because you know Hydra. You know how they think. And you know their tactics better than anyone we’ve got. If we go in guns blazing, they’ll see us coming from miles away. But you? You can walk right in.”

You tilted your head, considering. “And you think I’ll just play nice, follow your lead, and do exactly what you want?”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “No. I think you’ll do it because you love playing the game. And because if Hydra gets their hands on this weapon, even you won’t be safe. They’ll come after everyone—Avengers, civilians, people like you.”

Tony stepped in, his expression tight but calculated. “We need someone who can play dirty. Someone who can think like Hydra, act like Hydra, and blend in without setting off alarms. That’s you.”

Bucky, sitting quietly to your left, finally spoke. His voice was low, dangerous. “They’ll kill you the second they get the chance. You know that, right?”

You turned to Bucky, flashing him a grin. “Hydra’s always had a soft spot for me, Barnes. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Tony flicked the hologram again, zooming in on a specific location—a heavily guarded Hydra facility buried deep in Eastern Europe, surrounded by military checkpoints and defense grids. “This is the target,” he said. “We’ve been monitoring this base for weeks. It’s their hub for whatever project they’re working on. It’s locked down tighter than anything we’ve seen before. We tried sending in a team, but they didn’t get far. Too many layers of security.”

“Layers I can bypass,” you concluded, smirking at the challenge. “Alright, I’ll admit, it sounds like fun. But what makes you think I won’t just stroll in, grab what I want, and leave you all hanging?”

Natasha, leaning against the wall, finally stepped forward, her gaze cold and calculating. “Because you know what happens if Hydra finishes whatever they’re building. You’ve got a history of playing both sides, but even you can’t outrun a bomb that size. And let's be real—you hate losing control more than anything. Hydra’s playing a game you’re not a part of right now.”

You tilted your head, the smile slipping just a little. “So what? You’re offering me a chance to take them down from the inside?”

“We’re offering you a chance to prove you’re not as self-destructive as we think you are,” Steve replied, voice steady but firm. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about keeping Hydra from leveling cities and killing millions. You help us stop them, and maybe—just maybe—you walk out of this without a target on your back.”

The room went quiet, the weight of the situation sinking in. You leaned back, letting the silence stretch out as you considered your options. They weren’t wrong—Hydra was dangerous, even to you. And sure, there was a part of you that liked chaos, liked toying with the line between hero and villain. But even you had limits.

“You really think this will work?” you asked, locking eyes with Tony.

Tony’s expression softened slightly, just enough to show a glimmer of trust. “I think it’s our best shot.”

Another beat of silence passed. Then, with a slow grin, you nodded.

“Alright, I’m in,” you said, sitting up straighter in the chair. “But let’s get one thing clear. I’m not here to be your hero. I’m here because I like to win. Hydra made this personal when they tried to cut me out of the fun.”

Steve straightened, arms crossed. “As long as you follow our lead.”

You shot him a wink. “No promises, Captain.”

The team exchanged a few tense glances, but the decision had been made. You were in. And, for now at least, that was all that mattered.

“Good,” Tony said, the hologram flickering away. “We move out tomorrow. FRIDAY will upload the mission details to your room.”

You grinned wider. “A room, huh? How fancy.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Natasha said as she turned toward the door, her voice flat. “This isn’t a vacation.”

You chuckled, rising to your feet. The cuffs clinked lightly as you stretched your arms, casting a glance back at the Avengers. “Oh, trust me, Romanoff. I’m anything but comfortable.”

And with that, you followed them out of the briefing room, feeling the weight of the cuffs on your wrists and the eyes of the Avengers on your back. You were back in the game, and Hydra had no idea what was coming.

[empressdede]

TikToks - Jimmy Uso

Based on this tiktok. A very short oneshot so I hope you enjoy

Paring :Jimmy x Y/N

Word count: 544 ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Wait babe, I wanna do it like the girl did in the video.” You instructed, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the bed to walk to the living room with you.

Jon decided to cut off his game because you were complaining that he wasn’t spending enough time with you on his day off before he was off again.

Jonathan obliged on giving you his attention but was quickly regretting it because now all you wanted to do was make tiktok videos.

“Didn’t you say you’re not flexible? How you gon be able to copy the lady if you can’t move yo legs like that” He stated in confusion but you were determined.

“I know but I started doing yoga a month ago remember? I wanna see if I can do it.”

“If you bust yo ass, imma laugh at you I swear.” Jon warned causing you to smack your teeth.

“Boy just lay down and wait for me to do it.” You had searched for the perfect place to set up the camera in the living room before walking back to where Jon was.

The video counting down before it started, but you thought it had started soo you started to stretch your legs out and continued. You lost balance and fell forward but your hands caught your fall and you continued to go further into the split until you felt your core touch his lips.

Two different reactions came from the two of you. His more vocal than yours when he started to laugh in disbelief. “That’s crazy, get off right now.” He demanded through his laughs.

He kept repeating himself which caused you to laugh and walk from him when he felt himself start to chub up and immediately moved to cup his front and fold his legs into his stomach. “Yooooo, I ain’t gon lie to y’all-“

You giggled at his reaction as you watched him turn away from the camera to get up. “Babe I swear, I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“That’s craaazzzyyy” He responded, his mind lowkey forgetting they had did this for a tiktok. You don’t wear panties around the house and not only did you put his pussy in his face but he got a whiff of your scent. He was on demon time now.

“No, babe you gotta go back, I gotta do that one more time.”

He shook his head as he finally stood up and faced you. “Imma be honest, I can’t go back. If you do that one more time, clothes is coming off and I’m just being honest.”

“That’s fine baby I just wanna- oh wow”

And that’s when you seen it. And remembered this was absolutely still being recorded.

You jumped off the couch to stand in front of him but Your laughs made you weak to your knees. Jon covered himself and the both of you just laughed at his predicament of getting a boner from just that one thing.

When the cameras finally stopped recording, you still laughing looked at Jon with an amused look on your face. “You good now babe?”

“Nah, come do that shit again with no clothes on. Imma get you right baby.”

So much for those tiktok videos huh?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You know whats so crazy is this was not the tiktok I originally planned to write for Jimmy but this one felt like it was more him.

How we feeling? Lol Romans is up next, Ive had a lot of fun writing these.

Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @wrestlingprincess80 @blacst4r @alyyaanna @tbmotw @nbanenefrmdao @christinabae

[bvidzsoo]

I'll go animal to keep you next to me

⭔ Stalker!Wooyoung ⭔ 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

∞ Warning: stalking, mentions of murder and kidnaping ∞ Word count: 4.9k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, stalker!au, university!au, strangers to enemies!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Not having enough money to pay your monthly rent and also your college bills, you start working at a nice coffee shop. One day, a mysterious man with a little girl in his arms comes inside and orders an Iced Americano. Why is that after that day you find white roses in front of your front door each day? Who is giving them to you? And what does this mystery person want from you?

∞ A/N: Hii, lovelies! Last update for the week as I'm going on a mini-trip tomorrow ^^ Wooyoung's part looked a lot different in my mind initially, but the drabble turned out like this, I hope it's good! I might just turn my initial idea into a oneshot or smth lol. Most probably Hongjoong's part will be next when I sit down to continue this mini-series, so keep an eye out for that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

⭔  Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            How we perceive others is a peculiar and particular thing. How others perceive us is another thing we do not have power over. Sometimes, people can tell when somebody isn’t a good person, and sometimes, somebody manages to hide their dark side so well you wouldn’t even know until their mask slips and their true nature starts showing through the cracks. A good-hearted person will always try to see the good in everyone, in everything around them despite their friends' warnings about said somebody. A kind person will try and ignore all the red flags they seem to be getting from said somebody in favor of writing it off as paranoia. Because a handsome man with a sharp jawline and a Roman nose, high-pitched laughter that sounds like a witch's laughter, and is good with children cannot be a crazed man, right? He cannot hide his ugly nature underneath this perfect mask that seldom cracks, seldom.

I had met him in a coffee shop while I was on my shift, desperate for this part-time job to keep the bills paid as my parents paid for my university. It was a fair arrangement, I had been on board with the idea, but after they had to lay me down at my previous well-paying job, I was rather desperate and accepted almost any job to be able to pay this month’s rent. The coffee shop was in a relatively safe part of the city and was usually frequented by college students, so I had never truly felt unsafe. The bus station was right in front of it, so I didn’t even have to walk through dodgy alleyways to get home, or anything. Yet, somehow, when a man who looked like he was sculpted by a Greek God walked inside the coffee shop, my heart dropped and my arms got covered in goosebumps. It wasn’t even from his unnatural beauty; it was due to this very quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me that he was dangerous. But that voice must’ve been wrong because there was no way in hell a little girl would be clinging to his side and calling him uncle if that were the case. So, against my better judgment, I had ignored the warning voice, and instead, smiled widely as they arrived at the counter, our coffee shop’s welcoming speech rolling off my tongue like second nature.

Despite silencing the already quiet voice, I couldn’t shut down my body’s natural reactions to the man and I found myself having to force the smile to stay on my face, averting my eyes onto the young girl to try and remain genuine.

“I’d like an Iced Americano, Y/N.” Hearing him say my name made me blanch for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I wondered from where he had known my name until I remembered my nametag.

“Will that be all, sir?” I had asked with a polite smile as the little girl whined and pointed at the chocolate chip cookies we had in the fridge and the man, who looked barely a few years older than me, hummed and looked at me with his sharp eyes. They softened whenever he looked at the little girl and then grew harsh anytime he looked at me. His gaze was calculating and scrutinizing almost, full of wonder for a second before he was smiling dashingly, taking me off guard. I had seen many handsome men in my life before, but there was something almost ethereal to him. His dark hair fell around his face in untended curls making it look natural yet attractive. Something about his eyes made his gaze look almost lazy yet filled with sharpness, the mole right underneath his eye giving his already unusual face a charming glow.

“Two chocolate chip cookies, Y/N.” And there he was, saying my name again with a certain edge to it, and I gulped as I nervously typed in the rest of his order, telling him the total after I checked whether he needed anything else. The little girl had started singing as I got to brew his Iced Americano, and I could feel the man’s watchful eyes follow my every move as he muttered something to the little girl occasionally as he took her into his arms. I tried to calm my nervously beating heart, not quite understanding why I was having such a visceral reaction to the man. The warning voice I managed to silence in my mind was certainly gone, yet I couldn’t find it in myself not to flinch slightly away when I handed his drink over and our fingers touched accidentally. The man’s eyebrows had raised as a dangerous smirk painted his lips as he took the red straw between his teeth, waiting for me to bag the two chocolate chip cookies. Handing them over too, the little girl took one of the bags happily and pressed a sweet kiss against the man’s cheek, making him chuckle as he threw a glance at the cute girl. But then, the other bag was placed back onto the counter and slid towards me.

“For you, pretty girl.” My heart had halted as his pressing gaze bore into mine, making my cheeks flush as I stumbled through my words to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, “My name’s Wooyoung.”

And then he was gone with the little girl, the straw of his drink still between his teeth and pretty lips as he put on his shades, tickling the little girl’s side, making her giggle as she had dirtied her mouth with the chocolate from her cookie. After that first encounter, I had forgotten about Wooyoung rather quickly, with too many worries on my shoulders and too many new faces entering the coffee shop daily, making it hard to remember just one person, but perhaps it would’ve been smarter if I had remembered him. Wooyoung. White roses started showing up in front of my flat’s door every day after that warm day at the coffee shop, and I had no idea who they were from.

            The second time, based on my recollection, when I saw Wooyoung again—not that I could be sure of it—was on a random Friday night, months after having met him at the coffee shop, in an overcrowded club as I was celebrating my friend’s birthday with a large group of friends. Most of us have met at our university courses, some of us have known each other since highschool. I was relatively new to the group but they were nice and rather protective of me, I felt safe and appreciated with them. Not being a huge fan of clubbing and the sweaty crowd, I needed a few drinks in my system to make me loosen up, so, it was no surprise that I was tipsy not long after we arrived at the place. I couldn’t pre-game with them as I was on the afternoon shift at the coffee shop and had to lock up, but due to my low alcohol tolerance, it came as no problem catching up with their intoxicated states.

The music was loud and the flashing lights blinded me every few minutes, but I was enjoying myself. Arms high up in the air and hips swaying to the beat, I was surrounded by my friends who were screaming the lyrics to the songs that were played, and I finally felt free after ages. It was refreshing, relaxing, and most of all…I finally felt stress-free. I was enjoying myself, laughing and playing around as my friends and I played random dance challenges on the dance floor, roping in a few others as well as they seemed to be amused by our shenanigans. I felt eyes on me all night, a heavy and intense gaze, but I couldn’t pinpoint just one person. Perhaps it didn’t help that my vision was hazy from all of the alcohol I had consumed, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable. We were in a club, after all, everyone was looking at everyone, surveying the crowd and the people, probably looking for someone to hook up with for the night.

When my throat had started feeling parched and my stomach a little unsure, I pulled aside one of my friends and told her I needed a drink. She was eager to accompany me to the bar and I was even more eager to down a whole bottle of water in under a few seconds. My friend chuckled and asked for another one, knowing that I would need it, and she was right, the second bottle of water was gone in no time too, but this time I did share it with her as well. I wasn’t as thirsty as seconds before. But we weren’t satiated just yet, so, my friend asked for two rounds of some sour shots that I didn’t care to memorize the name of and once we had downed them, I was positive I would be throwing up in the morning with a head-splitting headache on the horizon. But that was tomorrow me’s problem, tonight was about having fun.

Just as my friend and I had decided to head back to the dance floor, the tall bartender came over with a pink and orange-looking cocktail, motioning for me to lean closer as his voice wasn’t audible over the loud music and even louder crowd. Apparently, the drink was from someone sitting down at the bar, and the bartender had said the man wanted me to know that a pretty girl like me deserves a sweet drink. Finding no harm in that, I thanked the bartender and tried to find the man, but upon being unsuccessful, I allowed my friend to lead the way back to our friend group as we shared my drink, which was definitely too sweet. Despite being curious of who the mystery man was that bought the drink for me was, I never came across him. Feeling those piercing eyes on me continued throughout the night, but I never quite seemed to make eye contact with anyone who could’ve been the culprit. I suppose it was meant to stay as a mystery. It also didn’t help that in a confusing flash of moment when someone crashed into me from behind and I turned to look at them, I had thought it was Wooyoung, from the coffee shop. But before I could actually make out his face, he was gone.

Underneath the blinding lights, as I was guided by my intoxicated mind, sometime along the night, I had felt arms sneak around my waist and then a broad chest pressing up against my back. I didn’t find it in me to complain and shake the man off, instead, I turned in his embrace and danced the night away by his side, vision too hazy to see his face clearly. But he was tall and he had muscles that could certainly crush my skull if put in a headlock, not that I thought he was dangerous or had evil motives, it was simply an observation that entered my fuzzy mind. But despite us enjoying each other’s company and even finding common ground in surprising subjects, after the man had excused himself to the restroom, he never returned. I was confused for a while until I realized he had probably found himself another company, and I couldn’t blame him or feel bad about it. We were here to have fun and if he found someone more suitable, that was alright. It’s not like I had found my soulmate in him.

What I didn’t expect, however, was to find another white rose in front of my door two days after clubbing with an added gift box to it. It was peculiar, it made me feel uneasy, but I’ve been receiving these roses for four months now, however, the gift was unusual. I still couldn’t figure out from who the roses were from, and despite my friends advice of reporting it to the police, I kept it to myself for now. What were they going to do? Probably send me back home after they tell me they can’t do anything about it, unless I was actually harmed, or this mystery person shows their face. Another shocking development to my day was switching on the TV as I wiped my kitchen clean, gasping and feeling faint for a second as despite my hazy memories I could recognize the face of the missing person they had shown in the news. Apparently, his name was Kim Mingyu, and he had been missing for exactly two days. It’s been exactly two days since we’ve been clubbing, and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure he didn’t return to me because he found somebody else to mingle with. As I went to phone my friend in a confused and worried frenzy, I realized the consistent eyes I had felt on me at the club had disappeared just as Mingyu had gone to the restroom.

I was scared to open the gift box, and when I did, my eyes widened and I panicked, scared to even touch the necklace that was so obviously Kim Mingyu’s. A letter with few words on it had been slipped inside it, underneath the necklace, and it read, ‘Pretty thing he was, unfortunate that he had to go so early on’. Instead of phoning my friend, I phoned the police.

            A month had passed and Kim Mingyu was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t known him for long, but it pained me that police could find no leads on him. I was ruled out as a suspect after I called and informed them of the box put in front of my door and they came to speak to me. The investigation was still ongoing, and I was asked to be very cautious as apparently whoever hurt him was the one probably sending me the roses. Rightfully so, I have grown paranoid and scared for my safety, often times I would only leave my apartment if one of my friends could accompany me. I still couldn’t give up my job, so most of the time I just sucked it up and put aside my fear, knowing that I was the safest I could be at the coffee shop with all the cameras in and outside, as well, watching and surveying everything. The roses never stopped showing up, and if at first I found them beautiful and kept them, now they lay in a pile in the trashcan, thrown out every day before I left for my classes. The grounds of the university were safe too. The only time I actually felt scared for my safety was when the crowd wasn’t big, or when I heard footsteps outside my flat. It could’ve only been my neighbors, but I still couldn’t know for sure.

Tonight, however, I finally gave in to my friends' naggings and went out to a barbeque with them. They were worried about me and I could understand them. They rarely saw me now, unless they would come over for the night or walk with me to my destinations. It was hard, I was trying to return to normal and ignore this weird paranoid feeling that I was constantly being watched, even inside my apartment. My gut had twisted before I left my flat, the quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me to stay out of my flat tonight, to just sleep over at my friend’s house, but I couldn’t do that. Her boyfriend was coming over and I didn’t want to be a burden. I already felt bad for always needing someone to be by my side, I didn’t want to inconvenience her even more. I was a big girl and I could take care of myself, it was just that stupid voice trying to scare me and nothing else. I was safe, besides, if whoever was sending me roses hadn’t approached me after five months of possible stalking, then I was alright, they certainly wouldn’t approach me now.

It was past eleven in the evening when I finally made my way home, belly full and tummy hurting from continuous laughter, body and mind at ease from having been with my friends who knew how to up-lift my spirits. I felt fine, serene even, and perhaps the fact that there wasn’t a rose in front of my door today only added onto feeling less worry. Perhaps this somebody had gotten bored of me, finally realized there was nothing special about me, or even fun. I unlocked my door and walked inside my small hallway, dropping my bag onto the floor as I stepped out of my shoes and wore my slippers, hanging my coat onto the hanger. I grabbed a hair tie from the small bowl on the shelf and tied my hair in a low bun, excited to shower and change into my pajamas and perhaps read a bit before going to bed. I had the morning shift tomorrow and I didn’t want to go to bed too late tonight. But as I started shuffling towards my bathroom, I froze in my steps as I realized there was light humming coming from the kitchen and the aroma of multiple foods combined in the air.

My muscles grew tense as I felt around my jeans for my phone, feeling dread when I realized I had left it in my bag, which was on the floor in the small hallway. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I started tiptoeing back to the hallway, but jumped and almost screamed when a body in the darkness rounded the corner, leaning against the wall. The person was now blocking my way towards the hallway and I gulped as my heart started racing, eyes narrowing as I tried to see through the darkness and recognize the person. Perhaps it was one of my friends’, it must be them. I has to be them.

“You’re home later than I expected.” I shuddered as I exhaled, the voice unfamiliar as my heart now beat even faster. So it wasn’t any of my friends. This wasn’t good.

“I—I was out with my—friends.” My voice sounded unsure, and I tried not to tremble too much as the person hummed nodding. I still couldn’t see their face; the blinds were drawn in the living room and I realized it wasn’t me who left them like that.

“You threw my roses away.” The voice sounded disappointed, accusing. I gulped, feeling a chill run down my spine as I eyed the exit. I needed to do something, I couldn’t just stand here and wait for something horrible to happen to me.

“There, uh, there were too many of them.” I whispered, fumbling with my hands as the person just hummed again then sighed loudly.

“Did you have fun at the barbeque, pretty girl?” I gasped quietly as he asked that question, making me shake as I realized he hadn’t only been sending me flowers, he was probably watching my every step. Had this person been inside my flat before? Were there cameras inside? I felt like crying, but I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my composure.

“It was alright.”

“I cooked us dinner.” I bit my lower lip and flinched as the man pushed off the wall, approaching me very slowly as if he waiting to see if I would run away or not. I did think of running away, but I had no idea whether he was armed or not, whether he’d try to kill me or not if I flee. Not that I was safer staying put, my last dying hope was in talking my way out of this.

“I’m starving.” I lied through my teeth as the man chuckled, a low rumble, and then finally stopped just a few steps in front of me. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up in his eyes, searching his face to familiarize myself with his features in case I do make it to the police to report him, but I was taken aback when I realized he seemed somewhat familiar. A sharp jawline and a Roman nose, asymmetrical eyes and a sharp gaze, I had seen him before. Months ago, perhaps at the coffee shop. Perhaps he was the man with the little girl. I needed a second to remember his name as my eyes stopped on the mole underneath his eye.

“Wooyoung?” I whispered uncertainly, flinching away when he reached a hand out towards.

“I knew you’d remember me, pretty girl.” He whispered smirking, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he touched my hair despite me trying to cower away, “Look at you, you’re prettier than I remembered you were.”

I gulped and tried to take a deep breath as Wooyoung stepped closer, making me back away, but then he was gripping my arm painfully and I froze, heart beating out of my chest in fright.

“Don’t lie to me.” Suddenly his voice dropped octaves and I shuddered as his grip tightened, making me wince, “How can you be hungry when you’ve been to a barbeque?”

“I didn’t eat much; I didn’t have an appetite.” I was quick with my lie as I tried to smile at him, arms covered in goosebumps as he traced his fingers down my skin, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. The quiet voice in my mind was loud now and my gut was twisting painfully, making me wish I had listened to the warnings before it was too late. Could I escape this man? What should I do now?

“Is that so?” Wooyoung hummed, grabbing my hand in his as I nodded wordlessly, my body refusing to move when he pulled me after himself. His hand was cold, his fingers decorated by chunky rings, “Won’t you have dinner with me?”

“Ye-yes.” I stuttered and forced my legs to move after him, to follow him towards the kitchen just around the corner as I desperately glanced towards my small hallway, wishing that I had some telekinesis powers to make my phone come to me.

“And how was your day, pretty girl?” Wooyoung’s voice was warm and pleasant as he led me inside the kitchen, making my mouth fall open in shock at the sight. The table was set beautifully with candles in the middle and a huge bouquet of white roses in a vase that wasn’t mine. Wooyoung walked me to the chair that was furthest from the door and pulled it out for me, smiling cheekily as I gulped and remained standing. He said nothing as our eyes met again under the candlelight and I was losing the battle of trying to stay calm as my muscles started contracting, my heart beating too fast. I felt trapped in my own flat, threatened and unsafe with a man that broke in and had been stalking me for almost half a year now.

“It was—what do you want?!” I snapped, finally losing my cool as Wooyoung just chuckled, leaning his hip against the chair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so a long time ago, pretty girl—”

“Stop calling me pretty girl!” My voice was shaky as I snapped, eyeing the table as I lunched for a knife before he could stop me. I held it in front of myself as I felt panic finally overtake my body and mind, making my hands shake uncontrollably and chest rise and fall rapidly.

“But you are a very pretty girl, Y/N.” Wooyoung pouted, looking down at the butter knife in my hand with an amused expression, “Since you seem scared, I’ll be honest with you. I want…you.”

I gulped as my eyebrows furrowed, growing more confused and scared by the minute. Wooyoung didn’t say anything else just stood up straight and stalked towards me with a confident stride, lips pulling into a menacing smirk again. I raised the knife as my hand shook, and lurched forward with zero intent of actually stabbing him, perhaps I hoped it would intimidate him. But before I could blink, he gripped my wrist harshly and twisted it until I dropped the knife with a pained cry, face scrunching up in pain as I was whirled around and immobilized by Wooyoung’s arms as he pulled me against his body, his warm lips pressing against my ear as his hot puffs of breath made me shiver. I was breathing loudly as Wooyoung hummed quietly, the hand that was still holding my wrist loosened slightly as his fingers started caressing my skin. It made my stomach churn as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wasn’t working too well.

“Let go of me.” I tried to demand, but it came out as a helpless whisper and I felt Wooyoung’s lips press against my temple, making me flinch as I tried to trash around, but despite his lanky form he was strong. Way too strong, and I realized I had no chance of escaping unless he allowed me to.

“But if I let go of you, you will run, Y/N, and I can’t have that happening.” Wooyoung muttered and then sighed as if this was inconvenient to him, “I don’t want to watch you from the shadows anymore, I’ve done that enough. It’s time we get to know each other like normal people—”

“There’s nothing normal about this situation right now, Wooyoung.” I cut him off with a snare, trying to yank myself free again, “You’ve been stalking me for months.”

“Indeed,” Wooyoung confirmed and I felt like throwing up, “but that was because I had some pretty bad business to take care of first. If people would’ve seen us together they would have targeted you, and I can’t have that happening.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked in a whisper and stumbled forward as Wooyoung suddenly released me as I tugged against his arms again. I ran into a chair and caught myself just seconds before falling over. I eyed the exit as Wooyoung cleared his throat behind me.

“I have many enemies, Y/N.” Wooyoung spoke up with a casualty to his voice, and I glanced back and watched as he popped a grape in his mouth, giving me a questioning look, “Can’t have you kidnapped and tortured.”

That was all I needed to hear as I bolted towards the front door and tried to grab my bag too in the process, but realized I didn’t have time if I wanted to free myself. But as I threw the door open, I was met with two huge men blocking the doorway. They were dressed in black suits and had sunglasses on despite being inside. I gasped as they didn’t even look at me and whirled around as Wooyoung came walking to the hallway with a tsk rolling off his tongue.

“You’re making this more dramatic than it’s supposed to be, pretty girl.” I tried to scurry away from him but he marched up in my face in no time and grabbed the back of my head as I tried to fight him off, but as his eyes hardened, I knew it would be best to just obey him and stop fighting, “I like you and if you don’t stop trying to run away I will take you away with me by force, Y/N. I’m giving you two choices. One, you shut up about this and don’t go to the police, you let me take you out and we’ll see how our relationship develops from there on. Two, I knock you out right now and take you back to my highly guarded and isolated mansion and you’ll never see your loved ones or anyone you knew before. Which one will you choose?”

I was shaking as I tried to gulp, but my throat was dry and my eyes shook as they filled with tears as I clawed at his arm holding my head, ���First option, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Good girl.” Wooyoung grinned as he bit his lower lip, eyes taking in my face as he leaned close until our foreheads pressed together, “I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I saw you cross the road and walk up to the coffee shop, ready to start your shift, Y/N.”

My heart stopped as a tear rolled down my cheek, “You’re insane.”

“I’m just a man bewitched by you.” Wooyoung retorted with a cackle and I yanked myself away as he released me and gave me a scrutinizing stare, “You don’t have to eat dinner, I know you’re full, but I’ll be back in the morning to take you out for breakfast. Now get some rest.”

I scowled when his lips touched my cheek and Wooyoung just chuckled and walked around me towards the bodyguards who stepped aside and made way for their boss. I turned to watch him with a frown, mind torn between what I should do next. But the wink he sent me before he closed the door and I heard his footsteps fade into the background, I knew Wooyoung wasn’t to be messed with. He really would kidnap me if I didn’t do as he wished. Just who is he and will I ever get away from him? What had I done to earn his attention? I fell to the ground as the tears finally fell free, wrecking my body painfully as I sobbed.

If I ran away, would he find me?

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[orphicdreamers-wp]

Girl Of My Dreams — Mat Barzal

Summary: In which Mat Barzal inadvertently falls for the oldest Hughes sibling and her brothers aren’t happy.

Content Warning; Taylor swift 1989 isn’t by Tay(its by reader) Mentions of University of Alabama (reader went there) Trevor Zegras being hopelessly in love with reader. Readers social media face claim is Addison Rae bc idc she’d clear as a WAG for a athlete.

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Hughes! Reader.

Mat would be lying if he said he didn’t sneak glances at the announcers box after meeting you. You had been carrying a plate of food and two margaritas to your booth where your friends sat. Tito had made a joke about you seeming familiar then the pair heard your voice and knew, “Alright now, eat up because y’all are bumming me out.” Mat’s jaw slacked, “He’d known that the Islanders had gotten a new game announcer who was a girl but he wouldn’t have known it was you. You were effortlessly stunning, you had captivated the attention of every straight man in the bar. Mat had approached you as you sat at the bar, “I’m Mat, can I buy you a drink?”

You grinned and spoke, southern accent slipping out, “I’m Y/N, I mean Barzy after the way you played last game? You better buy me a drink. ‘Yknow how many hate comments my broadcast got?” Mat grinned as the bartender approached you, “Another Corona Light and whatever she’s having on me.” You grinned sheepishly, “I’m fucking with you. I’ve heard worse.” Mat grinned, “So now would probably be a shitty time to ask you out?” You smiled at him, “Maybe not.” Mat smiled, “If I may, your not from New York are you? Where are you from?” You grinned, “I grew up in Toronto with my 3 younger brothers and moved to Alabama for college and been in New York for a few months now.” Mat grinned, “Well welcome to New York beautiful.” That was a year and a half ago. You still hadn’t told your brothers who your boyfriend was, just that his name was Mathew. Until your album release came creeping in and you wanted to go public with Mat.

Instagram

ynhughes; my album ‘1997’ is now streaming! thank you for all your support(especially the bf, ‘slut’ and ‘suburban legends’ are 4 us)

barzal97: celebrating you is my favorite pastime. i have never met someone who people gravitate towards more than you. you are by far the most wonderfully amazing woman i know. it is a privilege to say i love you🤎 this past year or so has changed my life. you make living easy and so so much better. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.

trevorzegras: alexa play that should be me💔💔

ynhughes: forever in awe of you mathew barzal. amazed a gal like me is lucky enough to be adored by you🤎

oliviarodrigo; THEY HIT THE PENTAGON!! @conangray

>conangray; told you it was them i saw at radio music hall!

ny_islanders; our roman empire is all the sweet posts for to y/n today🥹🥹

sydneyemartin: brb crying. the purest people in the world. so grateful my girls get to grow up seeing a love this pure that isn’t their parents.

>ynhughes: we adore your girls more than words can express.

_quinnhughes: my biggest inspiration is out here killing it. in awe of you everyday sissy🥹 thank you for being my best friend from day 1

ynhughes: in a puddle of tears quinny. thank you for always being on my side, even when im wrong.

sabrinacarpenter; hockey players making me ugly sob wasn’t on my 2023 bingo card

elhughes; my first babies🥹 extremely emotional over you all today

>_quinnhughes: we love you momma💕

jackhughes: 1997 reasons to love my meanie head sister, i guess her bf’s alright

ynhughes: i love you little brat, come visit me and mat!!

>jackhughes: will do, sissy🫡

trevorzegras: i can’t believe she won’t date me 😞😞

>ynhughes: buck up z, your way too young for me. perfect age for @sabrinacarpenter tho!

lukehughes: the worlds best big sister came out with the best album to date

ynhughes; really feeling the hughes love train today, i need to plan for all of us to be together soon! so y’all can meet Mat!

etnow; this just in; the Hughes brothers have brought tears to my eyes supporting their sister

barzal97: the third picture is actually the most accurate representation of your sister now

>lukehughes; always messing with those darn cats! even if they are on the side of the street.

[senselessviolets]

being roman roy’s personal assistant (and his obsession) would include…

Rating M

WARNINGS:

Language, sexual tension, degradation, power imbalance, Roman being Roman weird.

Author's Notes:

Pretty self-explanatory. No uses of Y/N. Some brief RomanGerri. Very much inspired by @nanabrainrot's fic series with Pervert!Roman because it's divineeee. Highly recommend it!!

Roman never saw himself as the type to have an assistant. In fact, he was the only one of the Roy siblings to not have one. Kendall, of course, had Jess, Shiv had Sarah, and even though Connor never liked to bring it up out of fear of making him seem less earnest and hardworking to his supporters, he too had a “yes man” managing his personal affairs for him. 

It was following the Hungary company retreat that Gerri offered to set Roman up with an assistant. She knew of a trusted agency that would be able to help him narrow down candidates and find a person best suited for his needs. 

That person just so happened to be you. 

Roman absolutely wolf-whistled at the picture attached to your portfolio when thumbing through the candidates he was matched with through the agency. Gerri made him promise not to make any untoward or inappropriate comments to you during your interview for the job. Roman saw it as a ‘woman thing’ but Gerri being legal counsel saw it as a nightmare waiting to happen.

Upon meeting with you and the hiring manager, Roman scoured the internet for any information on you. Even though all of the important need-to-know info could be found on your resume or your fucking LinkedIn profile—that wasn’t enough for him. 

He tore through all of your public social media accounts, saving any particularly flattering images of you (swimsuit pictures, nightclub outings, etc.) and examining them throughout the day.

Suffice it to say, you got the job.

At first, Roman doesn’t know what to make of you. He sits you at a small desk on the opposite side of his own in his office.

Personality and demeanor-wise you’re in line with what he had wanted. Physically, he was already well-acquainted with your curves and the way certain types of clothes clung to your body. 

In the long stretches of silence of you two working in the same room, he imagined briefly what you looked like underneath your clothes. 

At home when it was just him and his right hand, he imagined what it’d be like to tear them off and leave them in tatters on the floor.

The better you get to know each other, the bigger his private album devoted to images of you grows.

Roman starts to pry into your personal life, asking if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Then he makes random passes at you throughout the day. Having worked with a wide array of smarmy, gross men in the past—you were hardly phased. Because a part of you sees through the facade. You know he just wants to rile you up—to get a reaction out of you.

You realize after a while that he wants you to be repulsed by him. 

This incites something within you.

Roman starts dragging you to one-on-ones with investors and having you sit in on board meetings, much to the annoyance of many.

Shiv tells you (jokingly) to run before you wind up being chased down the hallways with a chainsaw. 

While waiting together outside of a rather important meeting with many high-level executives, Greg informs you of a rumor that Roman has a dick pic circulating the office. But that in particular—he had meant to send it to you. 

You don’t know how to feel.  

These forced attendances at random meetings turn into becoming his designated armpiece for public events and parties. 

At one of them, Stewy taunts Roman, saying you’re not the only woman he pays to touch him. 

You laugh loudly at this joke which surprises them both. You crack a few of your own at Roman’s expense. Some are based on fiction, the others in fact. The shame floods his cheeks but the way he grips tighter at your waist tells you to keep going. To get meaner. So you do. You get a lot meaner.

Roman’s jaw clenches for a moment. Then his lips part. You convince yourself it's just a buzz from the drinks you’ve just had; that you did not just shit-talk your boss into arousal. 

But the clumsy way Roman adjusts his stance, the subtle outline of something forming at the front of his pants, and how he excuses himself to the bathroom says otherwise.

The text you receive moments later from his number confirms this; “You know what you did, you fucking bitch.”.

It’s your direct reply to that message though that makes his breath hitch; 

“Show me then, you sick fuck.”

{ Feedback is welcome! }

Follow me on twt: @endlessviolets

<3

[chrisevansonly]

𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑪𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 (𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒄2)

☁︎lando norris x female reader

☁︎there is one thing that lando loves more than you, and it’s your famous apple cider

☁︎fluff and very cute lando<3

☁︎fic number 2 for my fall celebration! thank you everyone for your love and support, it means the world to me<3

Pitchy singing and the occasional yell could be heard from Lando’s gaming room as you stirred your fresh apple cider gently around the steel pot. October was your favourite time because you were able to get fresh apples from the markets, and lots of cinnamon sticks fresh and locally sourced. Though if there was anyone else on this planet who loved your apple cider more than anyone: that award would go to your boyfriend.

Lando turned towards the door to the sound of knocking, a smile on his face when he saw you, and then an even bigger excitement moved in noticing the special mug you had in your hands.

“Is that what I think it is?”

You shrugged

“It could be…”

Meanwhile the chat was blowing up on twitch, questions pouring in on what had captured the brit’s attention so quickly, Lando turning back only momentarily

“One second chat, y/n’s just brought me something delicious!”

You laughed walking over

“Just finished it now, should still be hot so be careful”

“It smells so fucking good”

He was never apologetic about how honest his reviews of your apple cider were, it didn’t matter who was around, there was no stopping what came out of his mouth.

“I’m glad you think so babe”

Leaning down to kiss his cheek gently you waved at the camera, it wasn’t your first time on stream so by now most people knew who you were. You slid a chair over, placing your own mug of cider down and pulled your legs up to your chest.

“Someone is asking why you have such a hyper reaction to this lan”

“Well excuse them.”

Lando crossed his arms a look of disgust on his face, he was quite literally the definition of sassy, and you loved it.

“Not that any of you deserve to know, but y/n’s apple cider is by far THE best on the planet, it’s sweet, it’s cinnamony-”

“Cinnamony…?”

He glanced at you

“It’s my word okay? Anyway as I was saying”

You had to cover your mouth from laughing, not wanting to pause his rant again

“This tastes like fall in a cup, it’s october in a cup okay? this tastes like nothing any of you will ever know because it’s special,all for me, it is the bomb.com”

When he was finished he took a sip, closing his eyes as you shook your head at his antics, leaning forward to check the chat

“Someone said ‘y/n’s apple cider is lando’s roman empire’ why thank you, i take great pride in it”

“It’s better than the roman empire”

Scooting his chair over he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips, the taste of cinnamon and apples on your lips

“Thank you, it’s delicious as always”

“You’re welcome baby, there’s a whole big pot of it downstairs if you want more at anytime.”

Standing up you gave him one last kiss, waving to the screen to say goodbye to all his streamers before going back downstairs to get ready to bottle the leftover batch sitting on the stove still. Lando would speak to anyone and everyone about your skill of fall drinks, from hot ones to cold ones, but nothing would ever come close to the special cider you made for him every October for him to enjoy.

You’d almost considered selling some at your local farmers market but your boyfriends look of betrayal and disgust was enough for you to hold off on that venture for a while. The cup hitting the sink had you snapping out of your daze, Lando smiling in your direction.

“All done streaming my love?”

“Yeah, kept smelling how good the kitchen smelt, couldn’t be up there any longer”

You reached your hand up to brush some of his curls away from his face

“I’m just getting ready to bottle the rest of the cider, want to help?”

He nodded, always eager to lend a hand when he could

“Bottling them for me right?”

“Honestly I was thinking about taking some to the markets”

There was a noticeable silence that fell over the room, biting back a laugh you watched as Lando narrowed his eyes at you

“Unfortunately that’s not gonna work”

“Oh it isn’t?”

He shook his head

“No because you see this is my special cider, and if you start selling it, I will die of dehydration.”

The snort that escaped you tossed you into a fit of laughter, your hand holding your chest

“You are so dramatic baby”

“This isn’t a joke to me darling”

When you calmed down you looked up at him and smiled

“No markets, got it, this is Lando’s cider only”

“That’s more like it”

You pulled away from him, sliding some bottles in his direction

“Well then get to bottling babe, we’ve got a lot to do”

Lando may be dramatic sometimes but he would die for that cider of yours, he didn’t care who he needed to beat out for fresh apples, who he’d cut off on the highway to make it to the one farm that had the best cinnamon sticks, if it meant getting his cider all to himself he would do it in a heartbeat.

Although he loves you like no other, you’re starting to think this little fall drink is now Lando’s greatest love…and you’re okay with that.

[bookuce]

Fools Rush In

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2.3K

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER FIVE

Nessa felt like shit, figuratively and literally. She blocked his number once she got home from Joe's hotel. Vanessa didn't want to see any texts or get any phone calls from him. She felt guilty enough for ghosting the man. Seeing or hearing anything from him would only make things worse. 

She sat on the shower floor, letting the water pour over her head. She tightly wrapped her arms around her legs, her eyes shut while she focused on breathing. The warm steam from the water comforted and relaxed her while she attempted to take her mind off what she had done. Unfortunately for her, she was failing miserably. Though her night was drunken, she could remember every bit of that evening. 

She could feel his hands on her body--all over her body, memorizing every dip and curve she had. Despite being pounded by the water from the shower, her skin still tingled in places he touched. Images of his face contorted in bliss, flushed pink cheeks, and sex-clouded eyes filled her mind. Oh, those eyes. Those eyes, hands, and perfectly pink and swollen lips kept reeling her in each time she thought she finished. How many times did he make her come last night? She lost count after the third time.

His voice echoed in her mind. Just like that, he praises. How do you want me, he asks. You feel so good, he tells her. The huskiness of his voice would send shivers down her spine. He somehow managed to make his already deep voice sound even more resounding. The way he spoke sometimes sounded animalistic. There was a growl with certain words, especially when he would say her name. 

Vanessa brings her right hand up to her ear. She swore she could feel his ragged breath on her skin just then. The tremble in his voice and the moans he let out were things she never heard before with a man--at least not with any man she's ever been with. Joe was vocal, but this wasn't a bad thing. She enjoyed that he talked her through the things they did. He made her feel in control at times, powerful even. She learned something new about herself, a new kink unveiled. 

Joe Anoa'i left quite the impression on this woman. Well, he did promise to make the evening unforgettable for her. Now look at her, dickmatized on the bathroom floor. Maybe she was overreacting about sleeping with the man. She needed this. She needed to be unwound and loosened up. She hadn't had sex in a year! She would never mention that out loud, though. It was bad enough that Isabel looked at her as if she grew three heads every time she remembered that her best friend was practicing celibacy. 

Everyone needs to have sex! She'd exclaim. There are health benefits to it! She'd add. She would ramble on about it being a natural stress and pain reliever. Did you know sex can cure a migraine? Te lo digo, Nessa, es bueno para la mente, el cuerpo y el espíritu--Yes, yes, she knows.

Despite her newfound guilt, she felt refreshed when she woke up this morning. Her body wasn't sore. It didn't hurt when she walked. She felt pretty light on her feet. It could have something to do with the fact that Joe stretched her--Alright, that's enough. Vanessa reaches to turn off the shower. The warm water ceased, and cold air rushed to sheathe her body in goosebumps. 

She pushes herself off the floor, a small sigh leaving her body as her joints pop with the movement. She steps out of the shower, snatching the towel that hung just above her head on the shower curtain rod. She wraps it around her body, exiting the bathroom. Instead of drying herself off, she drops onto the bed. Her eyes would meet the ceiling as she sucked in a tired breath. Vanessa brings her hand to her face, allowing her palm to drag down it. Her arm would then fly out to rest against the bed, hitting her cell phone. She turns her head towards the direction of the phone, flipping her hand over to grab it. 

The light turns on on the screen, displaying the time to her. It was now ten o'clock exactly. She watched her phone screen as if she was expecting a notification to appear. One would never come, though. Unblock Joe's number, commands a voice in her head. Unblock his number and text him. This voice wasn't thinking about her at all; at that moment, it was thinking about what Joe could do for her--what Joe could do to her. Look at her, acting like a touch-starved woman--Well, she was, but she refused to give in to those temptations again. Nessa did it once--er, twice...three times last night, but never again. She had a moment of weakness. Yeah, that's what she was going to go with. 

Texting that man after sneaking out while he slept and blocking his number would be foolish. He'd probably call her every name under the sun if he had the chance. Vanessa couldn't say she doesn't deserve it. She was a jerk and entirely too old to be doing this. She drops the phone back onto the bed, her eyes falling shut as she does so. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." She mutters to herself. Vanessa rolls onto her stomach, burying her face deep in the comforter she laid upon. She draws in a deep breath before letting out a muffled scream against her bedding. 

Why was she even this torn up over ditching a guy? People did it all the time. They hook up, and they go their separate ways! It's not like she was ever going to see the guy again. Joe lived in Pensacola, nearly a ten-hour drive from Miami. The chances of them ever running into each other again were slim. There was no need to feel embarrassed or upset, but for some reason, she was. These can't be her feelings; maybe they were his. Soul ties are a thing, or at least that's what she read somewhere once before.  

She lifts her head from the mattress, her eyes searching for her phone again. Once she locates it, she snatches it from its spot on the bed and opens her browser. How to get rid of soul-ties, she types into the search bar. Several links would appear on the screen before her, her eyes quickly skimming over article previews. "Addiction?" She whispers to herself, her brows furrowed. "The fuck..?" She turns off the screen of her phone once more. Perhaps she's being dramatic.

These feelings she felt are temporary and eventually will be a thing of the past. Hopefully, in about a week or two--or four, things will be alright again. Joe Anoa'i is a complete and total stranger to her, someone she met less than twenty-four hours ago. There was still plenty she didn't know about him despite getting to know the man last night. She learned normal, surface-level things about him; fun facts, if you will. It wasn't enough to pine away over. He was still a stranger to her. 

Nessa pushes herself off the bed, now walking to her closet for undergarments and clothes. She couldn't sit around the house, no, not in this state. Vanessa needed to get active and move around. Sitting at home would do nothing but make her mind drift off to the events of last night, and the last thing she needed was to think herself into a horny slump. Maybe a jog will fix this. Yeah, she'll go for a jog. 

Joe turns onto his side, his arm stretching out to drape over something that wasn't there. His dark brows knit together in confusion as he allowed his hand to glide over the empty spot next to him. The sheets were cool to the touch, meaning his bed was empty. He forces his eyes open, his semi-unconscious suspicions confirmed almost immediately. Nessa was not next to him. He lifts his head from his pillow, glancing around the room in a half-sleep daze. "Nessa?" He calls out groggily. 

He'd get no response back. Joe becomes still, his breathing quieting as he listens for movement. The suite was silent. He moves onto his back, his eyes finding the high ceilings cast in a dim white glow from the light outside. Alone was not how he imagined his morning would begin, but that seemed to be his reality.

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Joe sighs at the sound of his phone ringing from the nightstand. The timing for a phone call couldn't be more perfect. He lifts his head, reaching out to snatch the phone from its spot. Without checking the Caller ID, he swipes to answer the call. "Hello?" He says. 

"I thought your ass was never going to answer," Josh says from the other side of the phone. "Ay, you good?" Joe scoffs slightly at the question. He was something. He hadn't determined how he was feeling just yet.

"Yeah, I'm good." He lies.

"You sure?" Jon chimes in, now leaning into Josh's phone. "Because the damn plane was supposed to leave thirty minutes ago, and your ass ain't here."

Joe's brows furrow slightly at Jon's words. "What're you talking about?" He asks. Slowly, he pushes himself up in bed, allowing his hand to prop him up. His hair would fall around his face, dry curls caressing his cheeks. 

"You late, fool!" Jon exclaimed.

"Ay, Paul over here tweaking, Uce. You in trouble." Josh sings.

"Yeah, I ain't ever seen him this red before. Boy, that man is hot." Jon sings. Joe throws back the covers from his body, standing from the bed. His joints would pop as he stretched, a sigh leaving his lips as he did so. 

"Is that, Joe?" Paul says in the background. "Let me talk to him." Joe rolls his eyes, his head moving in a circular motion as he does so. He didn't have time for this.

"Nah, it's our dad, Wiseman." Josh lies. "Bruh, bring your ass on." He says lowly to Joe through clenched teeth. The call will end, sending Joe back into silence again. He tosses his phone on the bed, his eyes taking in the room around him.

"Ness?" He calls out again. No answer. The bathroom door was open; the small room shrouded in darkness. He'd grab a handful of sheets, pulling it from the bed to wrap around his waist.

Thin, white cotton sheets skimmed delicately against the marble floor as Joe approached the staircase. He stops at the top and peers over, hoping to see the beautiful woman from last night down below, but she is nowhere to be seen. He spots his clothes draped along the back of the couch, but hers, which once laid alongside his, is now gone. Joe's head turns slightly, his eyes finding the morning sky outside his windows. Vanessa had snuck out before he woke up. Has he ever had this happen before? No, no, Joe couldn't recall. Maybe while he was in college, but after? No, he couldn't say he has. 

Like he said earlier in the night, he wasn't interested in hooking up with her, and what happened between them was not planned. He just wanted to spend his last night in Miami with her. One thing led to another, and they ended up in bed together. Getting her there was not his intention at all. Hopefully, she doesn't assume that was what he had planned with inviting her here. His mouth would twitch to the left as he sniffled. Now that he thinks about it, maybe that's why she snuck off.  

Again, that wasn't his intention, and he thought he did a good job assuring her he wasn't one of those guys. Did he slip up at some point last night and say or do something that might've thrown her off? He recalls the night just as he remembered it best. They talked, swam a little, and lastly, came back here. Nothing happened between the roof and the bedroom, he thinks. The wine they had wasn't too strong--at least not strong enough to hinder his ability to remain courteous. 

Joe's gaze lowered to the floor, his shoulders rising with the breath he was taking in. He was feeling plenty of things right now: embarrassment, disappointment, confusion, and maybe a little anger. The anger is what confused him, though. Vanessa was essentially a stranger--why is he upset that she left? 

Try to call her, a voice says to him. No, shoot her a text instead, it backpedals. He shakes his head at the thoughts. No, both options were heavily confrontational. He didn't want to come off weird to her, but then again, it was probably too late. Joe lifts his hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back against his forehead. He shuts his eyes only briefly. "She's just a girl." He mutters, lifting his head. For some reason, those words sounded untrue--coming from his mouth. Was it a false statement? 

It doesn't matter--he'll get over it eventually.

Joe slowly turns, now sauntering towards the bathroom. He needed a shower. Vanessa's actions had left him questioning himself again. Was it the sex? His brows would knit together at the thought. It couldn't have been. One thing he knew for sure was that he was damned good at that. His mind would drift off to last night again. 

Joe thought they had spectacular bedroom chemistry. He and Nessa left not a single part of that bed untouched. How they managed to stop themselves from going longer than they already did was beyond him. 

His hand skims the wall, flicking on the lights within the bathroom. He'd come face to face with his reflection in the mirror, finally seeing his disheveled appearance. His hair stood wildly on his head, his curls defined in some spots and tangled in others. He looked well-rested despite getting hardly any sleep at all. The flight to Texas would be irritating with how the twins said Paul was acting. With how Joe felt, Paul might get some of that attitude back. 

He should've left yesterday when he said he would.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I heard a lot of y'all was judging Nessa for sneaking out the crib before Joe woke up lol

What's that all about? Y'all wouldn't do the same thing after a one night stand? 😂😭

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @queeny23 @pytbgeezy @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[missfrustration]

hear thee on bended knee (priest!sanji x reader)

rating: explicit 18+, minors do not interact!

tags: pwp, smut, alternate universe - priest, top sanji, priest kink, vaginal sex, fingering, church sex, altar sex, confessional, improper use of rosary, improper use of holy water, no use of y/n, praise kink, choking,

A/n: this is probably very inaccurate catholicism, what can i say (I'm sorry). inspired by hunnismokah's priest sanji au. original fic found on my ao3.

word count: 4.0k

Desperate heels click underneath the glazed wood of the service. Before dusk, you reach the cathedral late, hoping to find someone to speak to.

The priest greets you at the archway of the chapel. In his hand is a Bible, his finger snug between the thick of the pages. Laid on his chest is a rosary with rouge beads that hang to his trousers.

He does not wear proper attire during the hours of dusk. The service last held wasn’t today, which permitted him to wear his Roman collar with a black button-up and suit pants. He vests a warm smile as he looks at you with wonder. Being here late is not a common occurrence.

“Father Sanji,” You ask him. “Are you available to speak?” 

“Of course, I was just reciting the next sermon. What brings you here, my child?”

“I have transgressions on my mind I feel I should confess. If now is not a good time, I can return tomorrow.”

“Nonsense, dear. If you come here to hear God’s word, I no longer want to deny you. Let me be of assistance.”

“If that’s the case…”

He could see the hesitation you held in your heart. He holds out a hand for you in encouragement. 

“Let me help you, my child. You’ll feel much satisfied afterward.” 

You take his hand as he guides you to the confessional. You pass pew after pew, illuminated by the candles lit down the corridor walls.

“Before we start, I want to remind you that whatever you say in this confessional will remain between us, and I will not repeat it under any circumstances. Do you understand?” 

“I’m alright with that, sir.” You meekly nod. You wear a smile that strives to mimic his.

“Good. You are brave for coming this far, Godchild. Please step inside.” His hand rests on your shoulder as he opens the wooden door for you.

You feel so safe from his words, yet stones weigh on your chest. You know relief awaits with Father Sanji, but… 

…Will it be enough? 

You sit in the confines of the confessional booth, closing the door in front of you with a disgruntled squeak of the hinges. 

As Father Sanji steps into his booth, you hear that similar creak and taps of leather shoes on wood. 

“You can start whenever you want.”

You gently exhale, thumbing the smooth wood of your seat.

“Father, I have been having some sinful thoughts…” You start, finding courage in your voice to continue. “Shame feeds me. These thoughts weigh unbearably heavy that it is too hard to ignore them.”

“What is it, my child?” Sanji asks. His warm tone graces your ears. 

“I’m… having unholy thoughts about men that are deceitful in the eyes of God.” 

You catch yourself fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Pleats threading through the pads of your fingers is a feeble way to soothe a confession. 

“What type of thoughts?”

“They are… explicit thoughts, Father. I feel I cannot stop my lust. Sometimes, I cannot get away from them. Even in,” You pause, looking at Sanji’s still figure through the bars of the confessional. ”Even at this moment, there are lusts that I cannot deny I feel.”

Sanji shifts in his confessional, reaching to his chest to palm his rosary. The same rosary that holds courage and divinity in a priest.

"These feelings you have are normal, dear. After all, we are only human. We sin, repent for our sins, and then sin again; It's part of the cycle. I, too, have these thoughts. That is why I understand you. Please, don't feel ashamed to share these thoughts. However - "

Sanji stopped briefly before speaking once more.

"However, do not let these feelings take over. It's good that you are taking steps to seek my guidance, but, my child, I believe that these feelings are simply a natural and beautiful attraction to another human."

“This attraction is… more than natural. I lust towards men. Please, Father, these thoughts are too much. What should I do to satisfy this hunger? I feel it right now. The way I think of you is… It is rather sinful.”

“What will you do if this relief is not granted?”

“I will need to…” You pause, kneeding your palm against your thigh as you swallow thickly. “I will need to relieve it myself, then.”

“Oh,-oh my dear, you must not do that.”

“I know, Father. I know it is against Him, but… I am desperate for relief.” 

You look at your hand. Finding release now would be worldly, but you can only take a little longer.

“Father Sanji, what do I do?”

You hear nothing but the faint sizzle of incense that burns outside the confessional. Judging by the priest's unusual silence, you fear you have said too much.

You hear the creak of hinges whir in the air and the heavy knocks as Sanji’s shadow steps out of the confessional. You grip onto the loose fabric of your skirt, concluding your transgressions were too sinful for the man to bear. 

You flush in embarrassment, standing up to burst out of the booth and run back out the church's doors. You don’t manage to get far after letting the hinges cry again.

Your confidant stands in front of the booth when you open it hurriedly. He quickly catches the door's force so it doesn’t sound against the walls of the confessional. You visibly wince as you regret acting so rashly.

“I apologize for startling you. I didn’t mean harm.” Father Sanji says, worry glancing at his face from your troubled haste. “My dear, just relax. These kinds of thoughts are not uncommon, and you shouldn't be ashamed of it.” 

He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"I believe the hunger you feel is something completely natural. But, I must ask... Is this a hunger you truly want to quench?” He raises an eyebrow.

”Yes, sir. I’m ready to do whatever is necessary. Even if you were to… help me.”

Father Sanji looks taken aback by you, unmoving with widened eyes, when his face takes on a reddened tone.

“Do you know what you ask of me, my child?”

But your feelings don’t falter. You nod.

“Come closer, dove.”

In the dim light of the cathedral, Father Sanji reaches for you.

He pulls you closer as he kisses your lips softly. Fingers run through the back of your hair. His hold on you makes you feel like a new gift he couldn’t think of tarnishing. He breaks it after a few moments to gauge your reaction.

"How… how are you feeling?"

Sanji’s eyes are gentle on you. You look back at those quiet pools of ocean fog. You can’t help but ease into his gaze.

“Father, my desires fill. But I want so, so much more.”

“What you ask of me is no small thing. I don’t know if you can handle something like that.”

“Please, Father. I beg of you. I want this. Do you?”

"Yes, my child. Oh yes..."

Sanji's hand slid back up your hair and softly down your back. His other hand already lay on your waist.

"Will you trust me?"

“Of course. You must do whatever you can.”

“Good girl, now tell me what you wish for the most.”

“I want you to touch me, sir.”

He leads you back into the confessional seat. You sit down and feel Sanji grace his hands on your thighs. His fingers brush the same pleats you wrinkled.

“I didn’t think I would be the one tempted by your seduction.” Sanji's hand slowly crept up your body and reached your cheek. He kissed the side of your neck and whispered. "Do you trust me to do whatever God wills, my child?"

The fingers on your pleated skirt warm your legs, making you shiver. 

“Yes. God, yes, sir.”

"As you wish.”

Sanji pulled your body closer to him and kissed the tip of your nose. At the same time, that hand on your pleats slowly takes off the underwear of your skirt. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes before whispering in your ear.

"Be a good girl for me."

You back into the seat of the booth as Sanji touches your body. 

When he feels the frills of your panties in the dim light, he plunges under them. They don’t need to travel long before they figure out what they want. The hand finds your clitoris, causing you to shake. His other fingers reach lower before his unmoving arm rests on your side. 

“Spread your legs.”

You spread them. He whisks himself between them, bent over above you. 

“More.” He asks. Gently, he takes his leg to push against one thigh as his hand does the other. Your knees gently knock against the confession walls. The narrow booth is shy of relinquishing full access to Sanji, yet it is enough. 

His thumb latches onto your clit as his forefinger slips into you. They work at a steady pace and pump into you immediately. While his forefinger curls in and out of your pussy, his thumb firmly rubs against your clit, angled in a way that his thumb makes an enticing circle each time he pumps into you with his digit.

“God–fuck, your hands feel so good, sir.”

“Oh? Does this feel like heaven to you?” He crows.

You don’t respond; you hope your vice grip on his arms says enough. The perfect stimulation of his hand slicking against your cunt keeps you squirming in the booth seat. You kick your feet up, loll your head around, and arch your back toward the Father.

And the look he gives you. Oh. Even in the dark confines he’s stuck you in, those eyes gaze at you the whole time. He wants to watch you become a mess. If that’s what he wants, he certainly gets that. 

You cum quickly from his hand. You clamp your hand over your mouth and tremble under Sanji. It doesn’t take long for Father Sanji’s long fingers to feel your cum seeping deep from you. 

You take your time coming down from your high. Your lips stay apart as you pant for air. Sanji's hands linger on you before he kneels and again claims your lips. 

"Is this all that you want? Don’t you deserve more wishes?" Sanji spoke quietly. 

Even coming down from your orgasm, you feel a devilish smile come to your face. His question showed that he didn’t want to end this escapade soon. No, it’s too soon to stop.

“Father Sanji, haah, yes, I want more than this. I promise I can take it.” You look at him with pure wanton. Your lidded eyes look deep into him. 

"Such a needy one… please, come closer."

He reached up from your thighs, his hands leaving and grabbing onto your waist. He pulled you to stand until your lips touched again.

Sanji kissed you softly for a few seconds, his hand reaching your thighs.

"You deserve more for being such a good girl, so you will get more. But what do I get in return? I risk my title with a wish like this.”

He asked, his voice sounding as if it was full of lust but also mixed with respect for your wishes and desires.

“I will do anything you ask of me, Father Sanji. I’ll be good to you. What do you wish for?”

He hoists you up by your legs, kissing you fervently. Your feet dangle in the air while your thighs hug around his torso. His rosary beads click onto your nails as he leans into you, carrying you as his steps echo through the corridor once again. The air around you turns silent as you feel the priest shift around you. When Sanji breaks the kiss…

You discover you’re straddling his lap on the altar of the church.

"This is…is this what you wanted?" You say, shifting down on his lap.

“Yes, my dear. I want to display your body here.” 

Like the confessional, the altar was also wooden. It was sturdy enough that you barely felt it shake when Sanji lay you on his lap. You straddled him now, the skirt only long enough to cover your womanhood.

You couldn’t gawk a second longer when his hand claimed your chin, squishing your cheeks gently between the pads of his fingers. His other hand clutches on your hips while he places sloppy kisses down your neck. His mouth sucks and licks like an animal tenderizing a prey’s flesh. 

You run your hand down his chest and brush against the beads of his rosary as you slowly rub your hips back and forth on the tent in his pants. It only took a few bucks to have you both panting, gripping each other in fervor.

"Oh... oh my.”

”Haah, is this okay?” You ask.

"It is more than okay. I enjoy you, my dear. " He spoke softly, looking down and smiling slightly in surprise, yet he did not stop you.

You grind on the priest until the tent of his erection grows into a bulge. You discard your underwear so your bare clit rubs against the mound, constantly jerking with the pleasure you feel you could get off to.

That's only if Father Sanji would’ve let you. You know he craves to fulfill your full wish.

“Sit up a little.” He whispers in your ear. 

Sanji undoes the fly of his suit pants, maneuvering his garments to slip out the suffocated member you’ve been rocking against. It peaks out from his trousers, the head leaking precum from increased arousal. The distinction of veins pulsing up and down his shaft is enough to make you drool. 

Sanji leans over his cock. While he looks straight at you, he spits a huge glob of saliva, letting it dribble down his lips until it lands straight on the cockhead. He pumps it down his length until it’s coated.

“Put a show on for me.”

You reach down under your skirt, pumping his cock into your hands before guiding into your hole. You knew it would be a challenge by the time your slit touched him, but you didn’t realize how much you’d tremble when you reached the shaft of his divine member. You work on eagerly swallowing him down your pussy, yet you stifle your pained whimper when the priest’s palm pushes you down firmly. He is way too big, yet it’s all the more enticing to grip him. Inch by inch, you take him in like it was your calling to do so.

By the time your hips touch his, you feel elated from the fullness of your cunt and begin to rock your hips in small waves. Sanji watches you like you are a masterpiece, and you certainly don’t want to disappoint.

“Please, guide me by my waist and show me how to please you, sir.”

"Yes. Like this, my dear.” Father Sanji whispers to you, slowly putting his hands down on your waist. He adjusts you to a rhythmic speed. Your hips start to move quicker than earlier.

”F-fuck.” You move the way Sanji guides you, admittedly faster than you could handle without him. 

Your hips stutter into him as his calloused hands help you bob up and down on him.  All you can do is rut into him with enthusiasm.

“Your body is so perfect, miss. You're the most beautiful woman I could worship like this.”

“Sir…” You pant. You can’t help but grip around his shaft as you clutch his rosary harder. Sanji leans into you, nibbling on your ear as he firmly guides your body onto himself.

"Yes, good girl? Tell me how it feels.” 

“It feels like heaven— I’m in heaven. Fuck!” 

The creak of the wooden altar is barely audible, with your ears ringing from his words. As you move up and down, your knees hold your weight, stinging from the hardwood.

"Ah, amor. The sounds you make when you're enjoying yourself sound so wonderful to my ears." He spoke quietly and brushed his fingers across your hair, sticking to your moist forehead. 

Sanji changes the pace to a slower but harsher rhythm as he uses his hands to make your hips rock back and forth on him. You catch on quickly, trying to replicate the motions, stretching yourself more on each thrust than the last. Each time you spear yourself on the priest, your knees take each pump. You whine from the pain.

“Haah, my knees…” 

Sanji leans into your body, pecking the skin under your chin to the crook of your shoulder. His hands graze down from your waist to your hips until they reach the fullness of your ass. 

His arms tense as you’re raised in the air, as high as the panes of glass that adorn the cathedral. Father Sanji lifts your hips before resting you back down on him. The depths that he reaches inside you make you choke on your breath. 

“Move with me, dove.” Father Sanji whispers, gripping your ass to motion.

You rock your hips and push with your knees to the rhythm of his hands once again. The combination of force you two use only ends up spearing yourself on him. 

Your insides churn as he protrudes into your stomach. You can only come down on him harder on bended knees. This service you two participated in, you kneeling onto him in front of the cathedrals, with countless pews and glass panes, it feels…

The feeling was gracious, holy even. In the way that Sanji gripped your buttery skin and the gracious noises that befell his tongue, you can’t help but think he feels the same. 

“Jesus. No one--haah–has made me feel this good before,” Father Sanji says.

Prayers spill out of you in more audible moans at his words. You cover your mouth when Sanji’s cocks grazes your cervix by rolling his hips from under you. You can’t help but whine as you muffle desperate mewls that threaten to infect the air.

But Sanji knows what you’re trying to do. He leans into you with compassion.

"I want to hear you louder, my dear. Much louder."

At his words alone, you threatened to come on his cock right there. He’s giving you free reins to your fulfillment, but it’s doubtful it won’t come without cost. 

“What about others?” You pant, clutching onto his rosary with anxiety. To attract attention from dwellers within the cathedral walls is terrifying. Even with this fear, the feeling of masking your moans so others don’t find you is riveting. You clamp down on him at the thought, making him more eager to jack his hips into you.

He reaches a hand to your cheek, brushing the fingertips down the side of your flushed face, which holds eyes glazed with lust.

“My child, the church is empty until service tomorrow morning. Only us and the Holy Spirit are here.” He whispers, ”I want you to try and be as loud as you can… Please?"

His pace is faster. Now, he relentlessly ruts his hips to yours, causing you to squeak. He’s not just asking anymore. 

“Yes,” You mewl. He can only lean into you from the vice grip you have on his rosary.

Then, Father Sanji whispers your name. 

He unsheathes you from his cock by lifting you back up, kicking himself off of the altar to gently lower you off of him. As soon as your feet touch the ground, he gently pushes you against the edge of the altar, bending you over so much that your feet hover above the floor. You feel the skirt flip up to show your ass.

“Let me take you to heaven, my dove.”

You feel beads loop around your neck.

“This is how I want to bless my crucifix, my dear. Please help me cleanse it.”

He leads his cock back inside you, but not without one more thing.

He takes the rosary beads hung around the nape of your neck and pulls it towards him. Once hanging at the lowest parts of your chest, the beads now restrict your delicate neck while the crucifix dangles back and forth under the neck cartilage. You hear Father Sanji shuffle his hands, then the pop of a bottle before feeling cool, crisp water pour down on the rosary beads on your back. You’ve been in the church long enough to know he’s using holy water to cleanse his beads. 

“Be my good girl.” 

His cockhead slops into you in rough thrusts that completely lift your feet off the ground. You sputter from the speed, rolling your eyes like it was a need like his pace was a necessity . Now, your mind and body can only think about him. 

“So-so close. Please keep going, Father. Kiss me more.”

"Oh, you are... You want this so bad, don't you, my child?"

You mewl endless ministrations on his cock. You could only piece together fragments of consent through the endless punishment of pulsations.

“It’s your time, my dear.”

His pace is sloppy, and his veiny cock sloshes into you, but he still treats you with beautiful touches across your glistened skin. For his rosary latches onto your small neck, restricting the carotid arteries and making your feet curl, his other hand rubs up and down your back. 

Between your cries, his voice rings throughout the cathedral walls. It's paired with his large hand sliding down to connect to that swollen bud under your skirt. The pull of the rosary makes your back arch more into him, pushing him deeper and deeper into the coils inside of your quivering core.

“Sing for me.”

His finger flicked you right then like it was the first domino to start an avalanche.

“ Cum. ”

You can’t keep track of the time throughout your orgasm that you end up crying and moaning on Father Sanji’s dick. He pounds into you and stimulates your pink bud, prolonging your orgasm and causing you to writhe on the altar. Your vision is impossibly blurred with the stars in your head, and you can only hear the noises coming out of your body. The way your body and mind are animalistic in their release can only show the divinity of your wish being granted. 

Your nails claw at the wood of the altar so hard that your knuckles stain white, now wet from the holy water cascading down your body. The tirade of waves doesn’t stop until Sanji pulls out of you, which makes your pussy twitch from the quick emptiness. You hear Father Sanji groan behind you, pumping his cock into his hand a few times until he himself releases onto your back. The ropes of white hot cum dance with the holy water kissing the rosary beads, pooling down the crevice of your back. You let it sit like that while taking a moment to bask in the afterglow. 

When Father Sanji lets you off the altar, you realize that the pool of holy water that once rested under your head isn’t just holy water; it’s your drool. You blush in embarrassment; your body was too overstimulated, letting more than just your cum stain the altar.

"I do hope this was worth it. That I did what you wanted." He takes out a cloth and gently rubs the fluids off your skin.

“Father, I-“

“Please, if we have been drawn like this, you shouldn't need to call me honorifics behind closed doors.” He softly smiles. 

“Thank you, Sanji. My wish has been fulfilled, and I see why God brought me to you tonight.” You giggle.

“Lord, grant us strength that our paths come across each other and do this again. Make sure to attend the service tomorrow, and I will properly thank you for your visit tonight.” He playfully taps your ass, now half covered by your skirt.

You smile at him, still covered by the fluid the priest has gifted you and the long rosary beads draped over your chest. 

It is finished.

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

chapter 2: feeling like unraveling

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★

wc: 9.0k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.

author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door. 

It never comes.

He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?

He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.

 That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.

So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.

“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”

 Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”

“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.

“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.

“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”

“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.

“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”

“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off. 

“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.

“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.

“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.

“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”

You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”

Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.

Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy. 

Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.

10 hours without talking to you?

I think you can manage it.

I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.

It’s a risk. 

Will there be a reward?

…I’ll text you when we land.

He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile. 

It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly. 

You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.

“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.

 “What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”

“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.

“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.

“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”

“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”

“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.

“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said. 

Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”

“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts. 

“Maybe!”

“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input. 

“I am inside, Leave it.” 

You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.

You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.

“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”

“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.

“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.

“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!” 

“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”

“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.

“Oh come on, that was nothing.”

“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”

“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”

“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”

“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”

“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.

“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”

“... Don’t do this to me now.”

“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.

“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”

“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding. 

“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”

He chuckles.“I will.”

When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.

Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.

Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.

She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage. 

Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.

Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.

 Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect. 

When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment. 

The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking. 

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”

“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.

“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.

“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. 

“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.

“Yeah...”

“No?”

“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”

You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.

“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.

“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”

“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know, I am smart.”

“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”

“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”

“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.

“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.

“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.

Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”

“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”

“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be. 

“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.

“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat. 

“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks. 

You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.

“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold. 

“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks. 

The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.

It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it. 

He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it. 

“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.

“Very me?”

“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”

“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.

“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”

“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?”  His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.

“It’s better than a camping mat.”

“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”

Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.

“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.

“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”

You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs. 

“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.

You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock. 

“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves. 

“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”

He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.  

It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough. 

“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.

“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”

You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.

“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.

“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”

 Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.

He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it. 

“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”

Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure. 

His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly. 

Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.

He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”

“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.

“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets. 

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.

“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.

“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”

“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.

“We aren’t together?”

“You haven’t asked me!”

“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you. 

You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”

He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”

You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”

Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.

Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.

Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.

But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty. 

Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.

You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.

It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting. 

You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers. 

Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.

“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”

“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”

“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance. 

“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.” 

Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.

They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.

But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.

 When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“...”

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.

“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.” 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I feel like a traitor.”

“Why?”

“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety. 

“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.

“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”

“Well then, why do you agree?”

“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”

“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.

“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”

“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.

“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.” 

“It sounds like you already know what you think.”

“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.

“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.

“That’s not true-”

“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”

There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.

“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.

“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”

“No, you did not.”

“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”

“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you. 

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll talk to you later today.”

“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence. 

“I’ll try.”

It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter. 

Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.

“What’s going on? When did you get here?”

“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”

“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading. 

“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.

“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.

“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”

A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.

“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.

“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”

“Dad, why?” 

“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.” 

The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family. 

You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known. 

When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.

 When you touch the Earth, everything sings.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[usomads]

Pin Me // Roman Reigns x Reader

***Author’s Note: Hiii I’m back! Had a dream about this recently and figured I’d write it out for y’all. 🤭 Also, tysm for the feedback on the first one shot I did! I wasn’t expecting that big of a response lmao, but I figured I’d write another one to feed y’all. Happy reading! 🖤***

Plot -> You’re an up and coming wrestler on the main roster, working mid card matches to make your way through the ranks and into the main event scene until you find yourself teaming up with the main event.

Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Daddy Kink, Spit Play, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hickies, Spanking, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.6k

“Miss Y/N, I know you took some bad bumps out there but please try to sit still so we can examine you,” the trainer pleaded. You just had a dark match against Piper Niven before the show opened and you were hurting badly, taking some brutal spots in the process. In the end you had pulled out the win, but you didn’t feel like a winner at that moment. You felt like your ribs had shattered into a million pieces, and it didn’t feel good. “So there’s no breaks or anything like that, you’re just understandably banged up. Keep icing it like you’re doing now and take a Tylenol every now and again, and you should be good to go. Just, don’t go jumping off of things for the next couple days and you’ll be good,” the trainer chuckled. You weakly smiled at him and attempted to get up from the table, but the TV broadcasting Smackdown caught your attention. Roman Reigns caught your attention.

The Bloodline story always captivated you, and it’s part of the reason you started seriously working on your in-ring character. They were the top of the food chain, the blockbuster event, the money ticket, and you hoped one day to grow to their level of popularity and success. Roman and Solo were both cutting a promo, and at first it seemed like the typical stuff. Both claiming to be the Head of the Table, both wanting the crowd to acknowledge them, but it was something Solo said that immediately piqued your interest. “Nobody in the locker room likes you, Roman. The men hate you, the women fear you… you know what-,” he paused for dramatic effect, “I challenge you to find any woman back there that’s dumb enough to team up with you and go against me and my partner next Saturday at Main Event. You win, and I’ll let you have a shot at my ula fala” Roman scoffed, clearly unamused that Solo was doing everything but facing him one-on-one, but agreed to his challenge.

“Wiseman,” he turned to Paul, his longtime advisor as he spoke, “You know what to do.”

Paul wasted no time, making sure to acknowledge his Tribal Chief before he hurried backstage to find the general manager. Now that the segment was over you had no excuse to sit in the trainer’s room, so you walked out and made your way back to the women’s locker room. Still clutching the ice pack to your ribs, you walked gingerly but not before being stopped. “Excuse me, miss Y/N, could I borrow a minute of your time?” There before you was the Wiseman himself, looking more stressed than usual. You were stunned, why would Paul want to talk to me of all people? “Of course, Mr. Heyman. I was just heading back to the locker room. Is everything okay?” “Oh please, call me Paul,” he paused, carefully choosing his next words, “I saw your match with Piper tonight, you looked like a star out there. The splash from the top rope to the announce table was incredible. I-” he stopped his ramblings as his eyes drifted to your ice pack on your ribs, a look of (fear? worry?) evident across his face.

“Oh don’t worry, Mr. Hey- I mean Paul, nothing’s broken. Just a little banged up is all, I’ll be good to go in a couple days,” you smiled as relief washed over his face. “Good, good! I mean- not good that you’re banged up, good that you-” “I know what you mean, Paul,” you chuckled at him, trying to calm him as best you could. “But you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yes, right! Well-” he clears his throat, “As the Wiseman to our esteemed Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, I have been tasked with finding a suitable partner to join him in taking down Solo Sikoa and… whoever his partner is… so I was wondering-”

“Hold on a second, Paul, you want me to be Roman’s tag team partner? I mean forgive me for saying this but isn’t there someone… I don’t know… more worthy of a main event spot than me? Does he even know you’re asking me?”

“Well, not exactly,” he hesitated, “the Tribal Chief has… how do I say this… never been one to make friends. So I’ve so far been unsuccessful in finding him a suitable partner, but you’re here and the match you just put on was phenomenal! Even the Tribal Chief himself said you had a lot of promise, which is more than he says about anyone else…” he continued, “but no, I have not told him I was going to speak with you.” “Then let’s go talk to him, I want him to be okay with me being his partner before I agree to anything.” ******************************************************************

“You can’t be serious, Paul.” Roman sighed in clear frustration with the whole thing, “I mean she’s basically a rookie. And you think it’s a good idea for her to partner with me?” “Well yes, my Tribal Chief. I would never lead you astray.” You squirmed where you stood across the room, uncomfortable with the tension in the air surrounding your presence. Paul continued, “I asked everyone else in the locker room, and all of them declined. If you want to reclaim your ula fala, she’s your only option.” It was then that Roman finally glanced in your direction, eyeing you up and down as he pondered on his decision. His stare alone was enough to make you feel weak in the knees, but you hid that as best as you could. Or tried to, anyway. The silence in the air was thick, and before you could stop yourself you were already speaking. “Ro- I mean, my Tribal Chief-” “Please, Joe is fine.”

“O-okay, Joe-,” you stammered. No man has ever made you act like this; you were always so confident, but here you were fumbling your words and stuttering through your sentences like you were a little girl all over again. It was almost pathetic how much of an effect he had on you, but you continued, “I- think Paul is right. I know I-I’m not a b-big name in this business yet but- you need to win back your ula fala, and you need someone willing to team with you to do it. I’m willing. I’ll help you.” Joe studied your body language as you spoke, watching the way you stood nervously across the room from him and how you were slightly shaking due to the pressure you were under. He watched your breathing, noticing you were breathing heavier with each word that came out of your mouth. He also noticed your lack of eye contact with him, your eyes glued to the floor afraid to look at his reaction to your sudden outburst. Joe had been wronged so many times before by people he loved dearly. Being forced to trust a complete stranger in his quest to regain what was rightfully his seemed unfair, but Paul and Y/N were right- it was the only way he was going to be able to do it. “Come here, Y/N.” Your eyes shot up from the floor at his response, looking at Paul for assurance. Paul gave you a small smile in return, letting you know it was okay to approach him. You made your way to him slowly, still looking anywhere but at him as you did so. When you finally reached him your eyes were still down, not daring to make contact, but a jolt of energy made you do so. With a singular calloused finger he lifted your chin until you were staring back at him. He towered over you and his dark brown eyes stared into your own with a burning intensity you couldn’t quite place. 

“You both are sure this is going to work?” He asked you and Paul, still maintaining his gaze with you. “Yes, my Tribal Chief,” Paul replied, a little more confident in his decision than he was about 10 minutes ago. “What about you, Y/N, you’re sure it’ll work?” You swallowed hard, feeling more pressure than ever before. This has to work, you thought, there’s no other option. Letting out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding, you breathed out just loud enough for him to hear, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” “Wiseman, go let Aldis know I found my partner. Oh, and make sure it says between us; I don’t want Solo to see this coming.”

******************************************************************

The day of Saturday Night’s Main Event was finally here, and neither Solo nor the WWE Universe knew you were the ‘mystery partner’. That wasn’t for a lack of trying though, Solo tried every trick in the book to figure it out. Harassing Nick Aldis, sending his lackeys to break into Joe’s dressing room for clues, none of them worked. You both had kept tight-lipped about your partnership, having secret training sessions together in the week leading to the match and keeping creative meetings to ‘need to know personnel’ only. Their plan was executing flawlessly but just had one more step to go: the true element of surprise.

Solo and his partner, Nia Jax, made their entrances into the ring and stood in wait for Roman and his ‘mystery partner’, but were shocked to find that Roman was making his entrance alone. That’s because you were lying under the ring, waiting for your cue to strike. Roman finally entered the ring prompting Solo to start antagonizing him and Nia getting in on the action. Her and Solo’s backs were turned and that’s when you made your appearance, striking Nia from behind and throwing them both off guard.

The match itself was pretty standard, Solo and Roman starting things off. Roman had the upper hand very quickly, but over time that changed. Near fall after near fall from both men ensued, with Superman Punches, Samoan Spikes, Spears, and everything in between. It was apparent that Roman was trying to use most of the time in the ring, he was trying to win this all by himself. But eventually that came back to bite him in the ass, as now he was beaten badly and needed help. His body nearly on the brink of exhaustion as he desperately tried to win in every way possible, to no avail. He knew in the back of his mind you were going to have to finish this match, and that his fate was ultimately in your hands. You knew it too, so while he laid limply in the ring after kicking out of two Samoan Spikes you were screaming for his attention. He dragged himself across the ring to you, finally relenting and giving you the chance to win this, and tagged you in right as Solo was tagging Nia. You entered the ring and suddenly every doubt you had and every insecurity of yours quadrupled as you stood across the ring from the Smackdown Women’s Champion. She came in with a fury you had never encountered before, or seen, and was countering every piece of offense you could get in. But after her initial rush of offense she slowed down, and that was when you struck. You start throwing heavy strikes, tackles, drops, you were unloading the clip of your entire move set on her, and it was working. You had her down on the mat, and were climbing the top rope to hit your finisher on her and nailed it. You immediately crawled on top of Nia to use your signature pin, by straddling her head and using your knees to keep her shoulders down. It was at this moment you locked eyes with Roman who had a different look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before, eyes darker than ever as they trailed down your body and stared at your suggestive pin position. 1… 2… 3… 

You won. You pinned Nia, and you just secured Roman’s opportunity at the ula fala. Both of your names were being announced but you couldn’t hear it, stuck in this trance of Roman’s stare. He entered the ring and stood over you as you were still straddling Nia, looking down at you as you were practically on your knees in front of him. He guides you to your feet by lightly grabbing your chin, making sure he keeps his eyes on your facial features. 

“Be at my locker room in 10 minutes,” he says loud enough for only you to hear, “we’ve got some celebrating to do.” ******************************************************************

You had only given one soft knock on the door before it flung open and were dragged inside, now roughly pressed against it as bites and bruises were being scattered across your neck.

“You did so good for me out there, baby, winning for me all by yourself,” Joe growled against you, “So daddy’s gonna reward you, all you gotta do it be a good girl f’me and you’ll get want you want. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, f-fuck, yes sir.” Joe groaned in response and ripped off your ring gear, as you now stood completely bare before him. He drank in your naked body, how it was curved in all the right places with your beautiful breasts and ass perfectly on display for him. It was then that he noticed the artwork decorating your hip and thigh, a true masterpiece that would make Botticelli’s portrait of Venus look like a kid’s drawing. One that he would have no shame in hanging above his fireplace and admiring it for as long as he lives. 

He attached his lips to yours in an instant and you felt as though you were putty in his hands. This kiss was needy, desperate, and your hands felt the same as your hands wandered up and down his torso and his gripping your ass and breasts like his life depended on it. Joe removed the shirt he was wearing to reveal his god-like body to you, and you felt your wetness begin to drip just from the sight of him alone. His hands continued to wander, reaching your aching core as he let a singular calloused finger drag itself through your wetness. You bucked your hips in response, wanting more of him, but instead felt another large hand grab your waist. “Uh-uh princess, none of that. You’re gonna take what I give you, when I give it to you. Understand?”

“Yes daddy, I just-,” your sentence was halted in its tracks by a rough smack to your ass, making you cry out in pleasure with a hint of pain.

“Don’t talk back to me baby, Daddy doesn’t wanna have to punish you before you get your reward,” he leans into your ear, lips brushing your earlobe as he whispers, “and you don’t want that, do you baby?”

“N-no, no sir. I’ll be good.”

“Good girl, now show Daddy how good your mouth looks full of his cock.” You drop to your knees, hands fumbling with the belt around his hips. Finally you unbuckle it, removing it and releasing him from the confines of his pants and boxers. His cock is as god-like as the rest of him, perfect length, thickness, and the right amount of veins that you know will have your head spinning the moment it enters you.

“Look at me baby,” he tilts your head towards him with his finger, “open your mouth for me.” Reluctantly, you obeyed as he leaned down and spit in your mouth, giving you more to coat his dick with. Still looking up at him, you wrap your hand around the base and spit on the tip, bringing your hand up to pump his cock and fully coat it. You stroke him a few more times before dragging your tongue along one of the veins, making him shudder and let out a low groan, bringing his fingers to your hair and tugging lightly.

“Mmm baby don’t tease Daddy, go ahead pretty girl.”

You wrap your lips around the tip, giving kitten licks and sucking the sensitive head. He hisses and tugs harder on your hair, encouraging you to take more of him. You relax your jaw as you slowly bob your head up and down on his cock, using your tongue and hollowing your cheeks with your movements. Looking up at Joe you see he is a mess above you, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, and moaning your name. To you he always looked like a god among men, but seeing him in this state and being the one to get him there made you want him more than anything in your life. “F-fuck Y/N, you take me so well sweetheart, but I wanna cum in that pretty pussy of yours.” He helps you to your feet and guides you to the couch. He lays down, and as you move to straddle his waist, he stops you. “No, baby. I want you to pin me.” You look at him confused for a moment, unsure of what he’s saying. “Your pin tonight,” he adds, “pin me like you did Nia.” You hesitate before climbing on top of him, straddling his shoulders and resting your calves on them. “Like this, daddy?” You ask nervously.

“No baby, like this.” He lifts your hips from their seated position and brings your pussy directly to his face, where he latches his lips to your aching core. The feeling of his lips and tongue eating you with such desperation makes you jolt forward, grabbing onto his hair for support. He chuckles against you briefly before going back to work on you, licking your folds and wrapping his lips around your clit. His tongue is working wonders on you as he plays with your entrance before slipping it inside. The feeling is overwhelming, both tender and rough at once. You feel yourself getting closer, your walls fluttering around his tongue with every movement it makes. All of a sudden though, he stops, and you whine in response. “As much as I’d love to eat you for every meal and then some, I think the winner here deserves to cum around my cock. Would you like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy please, please fuck me.”

“You’ve been such a good girl tonight, I think you deserve it baby. Come on.” You both get up as he bends you over the couch, teasing your entrance with his cock before roughly slamming into you from behind. You scream out in response, which makes him cover your mouth and bring you close.

“Now baby, as much as I’d love to hear you scream my name over and over, I gotta keep you quiet. You wouldn't want someone barging in, would you?” Your pussy tightens around him in response and you moan into his hand. “Oh, you dirty girl… I gotta keep you around, don’t I princess?” He removes his hand from your mouth and brings it to your hair, wrapping it around his wrist for leverage and tugging it as he pounds you from behind. His free hand is roughly smacking your ass as he roughly fucks you, making your pussy squeeze his cock. Your mind is completely blank, the only thing you can think about is him and how good he’s fucking you as you become a moaning mess beneath him. 

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans in your ear, “your Tribal Chief wants to fill your pretty pussy full of his cum, can I baby?” “Mmm, y-yes m-my T-tribal chief. Want y-you to f-fill me up.” He moans at your response, speeding up his thrusts. The sounds of your skin slapping and moans have completely filled the room. You knew if some poor soul walked by they’d know exactly what was happening in here, but neither of you cared. Right now, the only thing on both of your minds was how incredible you felt. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where your spot was, feeling your pussy react to him with every snap of his hips. Both of you were close now, you could feel it, but your orgasm was the first to hit. And it was intense. Your knees buckled under you as you spasmed under him and pushed back further into him, driving him deeper than before. The feeling of you cumming around him was what did him in, releasing himself into you in waves that had him coating your walls completely, marking your pussy as his. He admires his work in front of him; you completely fucked out before him, neck covered in marks he left on you, pussy swollen and red from the beating he just gave it, and best of all, leaking his cum. He takes a moment to come back down to Earth and takes in his surroundings, eyes landing on the ripped up garments on the floor that was your ring gear. Chuckling, he picks up his phone and dials a number. “Hey, Paul. I- yes, we’re fine. Listen, I need you to bring an extra set of clothes with you. There was, um,” he pauses, watching your glossy eyes close and your breathing soften, “an incident.” Paul begins to tease him through the phone, but Joe isn’t listening; he’s admiring the woman sleeping soundly before him and realizing that maybe the match wasn’t the only thing she won tonight, but she had won his heart too.

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Like Real People Do: Chapter 1

You are the new girl at Hawkins High for your junior year. As a stereotypical "goody goody", you've been focused on friends, studies, and getting into college...so when you become friends with Eddie Munson, it completely throws a wrench in your system. But, sometimes, that can be a very, very good thing. (slow burn strangers to friends to lovers)

This is "Like Real People Do: Chapter 1"

Pairings: Eddie x AFAB reader (for continuity sake, you will have a name because I truly hate writing "y/n" it gives me hives, but it won't be prevalent enough to be distracting)

Warnings: swearing. every chapter will have their own warnings - eventually, their will be fluff, angst, smut. THIS ENTIRE SERIES IS 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.64k

A/N: My Eddie obsession will never leave me, apparently lol. Some of the plot will be out of order from the show - I'm not quite sure if I want to incorporate the Upside Down stuff just yet. Graphic made by me, I do not give permission for it (or this series) to be shared without my knowledge.

The end-of-summer breeze was light, running through the open window of your car. You had your arm extended out the driver window, lightly tapping the outside of the door as you drove slowly down the road where Hawkins High School was located. The closer you got, the more the butterflies fluttered in your stomach, bouncing off of the walls and causing you to breathe out shaky breaths every 10 seconds (approximately).

Bananarama’s “Venus” was playing through the speaker of the sound system in your car – normally, you’d be singing along, your toes tapping along to the beat. But instead, you felt like you were driving into something awful – a battle, or a funeral, perhaps.

Which, if you think about it, is probably the exact opposite place that you should be listening to Bananarama’s “Venus”.

As you turned the corner, you saw kids from both the high school and close by middle school mingling outside, in the parking lot. It seemed that everyone – except for you – had First Day of School™ smiles plastered on their faces, which only added to your growing pit of nerves. Slowly, you maneuvered into your assigned parking spot – lucky 31 – and parked the car, rolling up the window and turning down the music. You let out a shaky breath and gripped the steering wheel so hard, your knuckles turned white.

“It is your first day of school,” You reminded yourself, trying hard not to look at the people walking around your car abstinent-mindedly, chatting to their friends about what they did over summer vacation. You felt a pang of sadness as you yearned for your best friends back home – this past summer was the first summer in high school you three didn’t work together at the local Dairy Queen, and even though you hated that job, you missed them so much sometimes your heart hurt.

Shaking the sadness out of your quickly, you looked ahead and started again, “It’s your first day of school. It is your first day of school – you are not about to enter a Roman Coliseum to fight a caged tiger.” Accidentally, you made eye contact with a boy walking past the car, who squinted his eyes at you in confusion.

Although you feel like you’re surrounded by caged tigers… You thought, expelling another shaky breath. Were you sure that boy wasn’t a caged tiger? Because he sure was making you feel like it.

“It’s your first day of school,” You whispered again, checking your watch. 10 minutes until you had to meet the principal in their office to get the grand tour and your class schedule. “It’s your first day of school, and you’re going to kick ass. It’s nothing to be scared of.” You watched another person make a face at you while they walked by.

Okay, time to stop talking to yourself in the car.

You grabbed your backpack and opened the door, your knees feeling slightly like Jello. Locking the door behind you, you made your way through the front door of the building. According to the packet that came in the mail a few week’s prior, the principal’s office was almost directly next to the entrance, to the right.

Turning to the right, you saw the front office, with the sign “Hawkins High Front Office” plastered at the top of the doorway.

Okay. That wasn’t so hard.

Progress.

You stepped in, stepping into the small line that had already formed at the receptionist’s desk. Taking in your surroundings, you heard multiple phones ringing, and multiple conversations happening at once.

School wasn’t hard for you – in fact, you actually loved school. Known as a Goody-Goody at your last school, you were interested in homework, and getting good grades. In your junior year and on the fast track to a big university, possibly on the East Coast, you wanted to study psychology to become a therapist.

So, school definitely wasn’t hard for you. What was hard was moving to a new state due to your dad’s new job, and having to start school smack dab in the middle of your high school career. Being 550 miles away from everything you had ever known was tough – doing it at 17-years-old was even worse.

“Miss?” The receptionist said, pulling you back to reality. You snapped your head forward and saw that she was smiling politely, but definitely impatiently. You blushed as you stepped forward, being next in line. “How can I help you?” She asked as you stepped up. She had thick glasses and lipstick had already stained her teeth, even though it was only 7:00 in the morning. She tapped her pencil against the desk as she waited for your response.

“Oh, hi,” You said, subconsciously running your tongue over your teeth, “Um, today is my first day…I transferred in. And I was told to be here now to meet with the principal –”

“Brooke Henway?” The receptionist interrupted. You nodded. Quickly, she waved her hand as if to say come on, “This way. Principal Higgins is in his office and will be waiting for you. Have a great first day.” She knocked on a door marked “Principal Higgins” on a gold plaque, the entire sentence a monotone run-on. Offering a strained smile to you, she scooted back to her desk, shouting, “WHO’S NEXT?!”

You sighed heavily and re-adjusted your backpack, shoving your hands in your jeans pockets. Rocking on your heels, you reminded yourself that no matter how large and scary it felt, this was just a high school, and not a Roman Coliseum.

This was going to be a long year.

Shutting the door to your locker, you felt exhausted. The first day of school wasn’t bad – people here were actually pretty nice, and it seemed like you would be able to keep up in your classes fairly easy. But a first day of school would be tiring anyway…adding on that it was a first day at a new school, and you were downright asleep with your eyes open.

You were just about to make your way to your car – home at last! – when all of the sudden, what sounded like a heard of buffalo made its way down the seemingly empty hallway. You turned to face the noise at the end of the hallway, and a group of rowdy boys turned the corner, laughing and shouting about something that made them so excited, they seemed to be breaking the sound barrier. Something told you hang back a second, so you decided to wait until they passed to head out to the parking lot.

The group consisted of what seemed like various grades – definitely a few freshmen, but some seemed older. A few were wearing shirts that boasted “HELLFIRE CLUB” on them, and they seemed like a rag-tag group. One boy with longer, curly, brown hair and a leather jacket, made eye contact with you while he was smiling at one of the younger looking boys. For a split second, you both maintained eye contact as the group passed by you, and you felt a little jolt in your tummy.

Okay…he’s kinda hot. You thought, a smiling threatening to break through on your lips. Even though he wasn’t technically smiling at you, he seemed nice.

Or, at least funny since he was making the rest of the boys around him howl with laughter.

As soon as they passed, Long Curly Hair Boy shoved his hand in his back pocket, causing whatever was in there to tip out, scattering on the ground. They sounded plastic by the sound of the pink pink! noise they made as they fell on the linoleum, but they group didn’t hear over their conversation. You stepped to them, snatching them in your hand.

Looking down at them, they seemed like dice, except there was way too many sides. Inquisitively, you investigated them, turning them over with your finger. The dice themselves were a cool, swirly black and maroon color, while the numbers on them were a metallic gold.

Suddenly, you remembered these cool, weird dice were not, in fact, yours.

“Hey! Excuse me?” You shouted, jogging to catch up with the group. At first, they didn’t hear you, so you shouted again. “Heyyyyy! Hey!”

Almost as one organism, they all turned at the same time (and weirdly, in the same direction). Long Curly Hair Boy had his arm around two of the younger guys – Smaller Long Curly Hair Boy, and Tall And Lanky Looking Boy – affectionately. You locked eyes again and he widened his smile.

“Yesssss? Can I help you?” He asked in a playful tone. You extended your hand, flattening your palm to show off the dice.

“You dropped these.”

He looked at the dice and one of the boys whistled. Quickly looking back up to you with appreciation, he quickly took the dice and put them in his back pocket, “Geeze, thanks. Can’t believe I would’ve left those. They were custom made…” He looked back at you and tiled his head, “…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You smiled, “Because you haven’t. I’m new…moved here this summer. Today was my first day,” You offered, but then remembered that today was everyone’s first day, “Well I mean, like here. In Hawkins.”

Long Curly Hair Boy chuckled and nodded, “No, I got what you meant. Well, welcome to the exotic and exciting Hawkins, Indiana! I’m Eddie,” He introduced the rest of the gang (Smaller Long Curly Hair Boy was actually named Dustin, and Tall and Lanky Looking Boy was actually named Mike).

“I’m Brooke,” You said after they were done. There was a moment of silence after pleasantries were exchanged and you raised your eyebrows, “Welp…I better get home. Even though it’s only the first day, I have like, 100 pages of reading for English, so…” You jabbed your thumb in the direction of the parking lot, your voice trailing off.

“Right, right. Well, we better go too…” Eddie started, crossing and uncrossing his arms, “Thanks again for saving my butt with my dice back there…and see you around.” He smiled again and the group said their goodbyes, walking away collectively as one organism again. You chuckled watching them leave.

Teenage boys are so fucking weird.

You headed out to the parking lot and got into your car. As you turned the radio up and rolled down your window, you found yourself smiling.

Yeah…maybe the first day wasn’t so bad.

Something about the new girl had thrown Eddie’s head for a minor tailspin.

Sure, he had only talked to her for like, 30 seconds. And sure, it wasn’t flirty by any means. But there was something about her…was it her smile? Or the way her hair was shining in the afternoon sunlight? Or maybe it was, even with such little conversation, Eddie could tell she was really nice – a “kind soul” was what he had heard it described as.

Jesus Christ, he knew this girl for all of two minutes and he was already waxing poetic.

Thankfully, he was able to shake the thoughts of her off as he focused back on the main thing he should be focusing on after the first day of school.

His new Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

Quickly scribbling ideas down, he worked through some new thoughts he had conjured up in third period. Smiling as he did so – he had a feeling Henderson would love the new direction he was taking it – he bobbed his head to the Iron Maiden tape playing in his stereo next to him. Thankful for the new, freshmen recruits he had met earlier in the summer, he hadn’t been so excited for a campaign in a long time – and this Friday, they were going to have their first, official Hellfire meeting of the school year.

“EDDIE,” Wayne screamed over his music, knocking on his door, “PHONE FOR YOU.”

“THANKS.” Eddie replied, not looking up as he shut the music off. He snagged the phone in his room out of its cradle, “Y-ello?”

“So she was really hot, right?” Dustin’s voice rang through the phone and Eddie heard Wayne’s chuckle as he hung up the other phone in the kitchen. Embarrassed, Eddie rolled his eyes, even though Dustin couldn’t see him.

“What?”

“I said, ‘she was really hot, right’?”

“No, Dustin, I heard you, but what the hell are you talking about?”

“The new girl!” Dustin groaned, “The new girl is pretty cute! You know exactly who I’m talking about!”

“Dustin…” Eddie sighed, rubbing his forehead in between his eyebrows, “I don’t even remember her name -”

“Yes, you do.”

Yes, I do.

“Whatever. Point is, who cares?”

“Who cares?! Us…we should care!” Dustin sounded exhausted already, “She’s a new girl – a new, hot, girl – and she was nice to us! On the first day! Do you know what that means?!”

“…no?”

“It means, genius, that we could get our high school credibility up! She doesn’t know that we’re the freaks of the school – yet – and she was nice to us! That combo means that we could have a pretty girl as a friend, thus making us cool!”

“Dustin…” Eddie winced internally at the word “freak”, “I don’t care about my credibility in this dumb town.”

“Well, it’ll make our lives easier! My whole life, I was thrown into lockers because I’m a nerd with new teeth basically every other year…if we have pretty, nice girl as a friend, that could change! We’ll still be nerds -”

“But with a pretty, nice friend?” Eddie finished, basically checking out of the conversation.

“Exactly!” Dustin shouted excited.

“Okay, Henderson, I’m going to hang up the phone now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ugh, okay fine. But just think about it, okay?!”

“Yeah, sure, bye.” Eddie rushed to hang up the phone, the idea of talking any more about Brooke making him sweat a little bit. He sighed, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders, before he turned his stereo on again.

But even with the pen in his hand, and music playing in his room, Eddie still couldn’t concentrate on his campaign, and tried shake the thought of you. He didn’t need to have a “nice, pretty friend” because he truly didn’t care, but it would be nice to have you as a friend.

Or at least, he thought.

Maybe “this will be my year” would take on a whole new meaning now.

---

A/N: thanks so much for reading, y’all! I have Eddie Munson brainrot right now, so even though I have oneshots AND another multi-chapter fic I’m working on, I guess my brain also decided I needed to write this one too lol. As always, your likes, reblogs, and comments mean the world to me, so they’re greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think!

[nofingjustaninchident]

my roman empire is jason x worried healer daughter of apollo?!?!?!?!? They would be so cute together omg

ᯓ★ pills and illnesses

summary jason is too stubborn to even acknowledge that he is sick. what happens when his girlfriend does so for him?

warnings angst, hurt/comfort, two or three curse words, not proofread.

word count 0.7k

now listening to medicine by harry styles

jason was sick. it was clear to anyone who even looked at his eyes. he was pale, the bags under his eyes were even more prominent and he seemed to be even more tired than normal.

but do you honestly thought that this man - one of the most stubborn men in the camp - would admit that he was sick? bah, good luck on that.

he kept insisting to his girlfriend that the only thing that was wrong was that he was working out more (that was true, and y/n could surely confirm that) and that there was nothing wrong with his health.

but y/n was a daughter of apollo. and, most of all, she knew jason well enough. it was clear to her that her boyfriend was sick, and she had to find a way to act on it.

it’s been almost a week now, and he hasn’t gone to the infirmary even once to act on it. and she was done with his bullshit.

she came to his cabin before he left for his duties and knocked on his door. y/n had a basket in her hands, filled with every kind of thing he could need to get better.

when he didn’t answer his door, y/n raised one eyebrow and knocked again, harder this time. she knew that he hadn’t left the cabin yet, so why wasn’t he responding?

after three more minutes, she barged in, concerned, but nothing could prepare her for the sight she saw.

her boyfriend, her amazing, strong and stubborn boyfriend was splayed in his bed, sweating like a pig and almost passing out. his face was white as a paper and she swore she had never been more terrified in her life.

she dropped the basket to the floor and rushed to his side, cradling his face in her hands. she didn’t have the strength to talk to him in this moment, so she just tried to heal him.

she knew he couldn’t carry him all the way to the infirmary alone, so she at least needed him back to his feet for five minutes.

“jason, jason, you stubborn, stupid, idiot.” she kept muttering, trying her hardest to contain her tears as her boyfriend smiled weakly at her. “i knew you were sick, i-“

“shh. it’s okay. i’ll be fine, and then you can scold me as much as you want.” he assured and chuckled soon after.

this boy’s gonna give me a heart attack someday, she thought, but did as he told her.

eventually, he was good enough to stand to his feet, so she dragged him out bed and out of his cabin straight to the infirmary.

“oi, y/n, jason!” they heard a voice yelling at them. when they turned to the side, they saw a worried-looking percy walking up to them. “hey, what’s going on? you okay, bro?”

“i’m fi-“

“no, he’s not okay.” y/n interrupted jason. “he’s been sick for a week now, and he’s been keeping it from all of his friends, including me.” she explained.

percy tilted his head in jason’s direct and shook it, hooking the boy’s other arm around his neck. “c’mon, infirmary.”

y/n smiled and they started walking with the boy.

when they got to the place, percy left jason in one of the stretchers there and left them alone. y/n immediately started to make his diagnosis. she discovered that he had some sort of illness that wasn’t something most humans had. y/n asked for the opinion of a few of her brothers and sisters and they got to the result that it was some demigod thing.

she sighed and gave him ambrosia. he fell asleep not soon after and it was there that she finally allowed herself to cry.

she was terrified earlier. she knew that jason was a hard working guy, and she was afraid that maybe he had overworked himself one more time, but this? this was so much worse.

so, when he woke up later in the evening, she made sure to bring him soup and take care of him the best she could.

“thanks, love.” he muttered. he was already feeling a little bit better, but she didn’t care. she was going to keep him there till he was a hundred and ten percent.

“you don’t need to thank me, and you know it.” she said, pecking his cheek. “but please don’t do that again. you scared the hell out of me.”

“well, thanks the gods, i have my personal doctor with me, huh?” he joked, and she playfully smacked his arm, giving him a soft kiss.

he was stupid, stubborn and reckless, sure. but he was her stupid, stubborn and reckless man.

a/n: two hours and a half late yayyy! i’m really sorry, but i was sleeping lol my night ended at three am last night so… but i promise that the next ones will be on time!