#his sexy chest hair tho

[dreaminginstasis]

[verysium]

attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.

[figthoughts]

ok so first of all i just wanna say that i literally live for your fics/drabbles, they make my day and your writing is so so good!

my request is how do u think dean and/or ben would react to finding out their gf wears glasses? can be nsfw or not, wtv u want! (tho with ben it'll probably be nsfw lmao)

thank you sm! that’s v kind! and ooooh, i like this idea!!! i hope you enjoy, soldier boy’s part is a lil nsfw <3

— dean winchester ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

the first time dean saw you pull out your glasses, his jaw dropped and his brows knitted together in confusion, “you wear glasses?”

“yeah,” you responded, sliding them on as you looked at him, sharing the confusion.

“since when?”

“since always, dean. you know i wear glasses.”

“no, i don’t. i’ve never seen you wear them.”

“i’m sure you have… at some point. i mean, i wear contacts during hunts, so i don’t risk losing my glasses and therefore my vision, but surely you’ve seen them before…”

“huh…. no, never seen them,” he shrugs and tries to think back to a time when he’s seen you in your glasses. he takes a sip of his beer, studying you almost as you crack open your lore book to continue researching for the case.

after a few moments, he speaks up again, “they’re nice, you know…”

“what?” your eyes meet his as you raise your brows, waiting on an explanation.

“your glasses. they’re nice. you suit them,” he comments, the compliment rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

you smile at the warm feeling in your chest, “really? i feel kinda dorky having to wear them sometimes.”

“don’t. you look good, like a….” he pauses, trying to find the right words, “a sexy little nerd.”

you chuckle and shake your head, “i don’t know if sexy is the word i’d use, but thanks...”

“it’s what i’d use,” he nods as he speaks, “my sexy little nerd in her sexy little glasses.”

— soldier boy [ ben ] ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

ben’s head snaps towards the door as he hears you step inside, his eyes instantly falling on your glasses and the pout playing on your lips.

he can’t help but grin at your expression, “welcome home, darlin’. aren’t you a pretty picture in your glasses?”

you sigh at his teasing and take a seat next to him on the couch, slumping against him, “no,” you mutter flatly, “they look and feel weird. i can’t believe i have to wear them all the time.”

ben chuckles as you whine. he wraps his arm around you, “they don’t look weird. you look hot. they make you look all smart and distinguished.”

you let out a scoff as you rest your head on his shoulder. you fiddle with your new glasses as you speak, “you don’t have to lie, ben. i know i look funny.”

he grins at the frown on your face, clearly amused by your huffing and pouting. he cards his fingers through your hair, “sweetness, you could never look funny. trust me, you look as delicious as ever.”

you groan in protest, the pout growing on your lips, “no, i don’t.”

ben chuckles, his grin turning into a sinister little smirk, “yes, you do. you look just edible in them, baby.” you shake your head as he continues speaking, “fine… you know what else glasses are good for?”

you sigh, trying to fight off the small smile from spreading on your lips at his cheeky tone, “what?”

“protects your eyes, you know? from things…” he responds smoothly, the innuendo evident in his words.

the smile breaks it’s way onto your face, “like what?”

he runs his tongue along his lips as he continues to smirk, “why don’t i just show you, baby?”

within minutes, he has you on your knees in front of him, his grip in your hair slamming your face down into his lap over and over. he pulls you back and finishes, his seed shooting all over your face and onto your glasses as you look up at him.

“see, darlin’,” he huffs out, “they’re hot and they protect those pretty little eyes i love so very much.”

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

White Shirt

requested?: no pairing(s): bang chan x afab!reader genre: smut/fluff warning(s): smut, unprotected sex (stay safe pls my babies), blonde curly haired chan (yes, that is a warning), reader cant come from penetrative sex (made it real, some girls cant. chan does make her come on his dick tho), oral (f recieving), chan being a horny fuck, hair pulling, mentions of breeding, squirting fingering (small mention), praise summary: 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦-𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 word count: 2.6k a/n: so sorry this took ages, i had to get back into the rhythm of writing smut again lol. i am almost done the twisted series aswell! i may take matters into my own hands and write about them on here because i have only found one post of alex and one post of christian. rhys and josh deserve some love yk. made this one realistic because a lot of girls cant come from penetrative sex, so yk. make sure to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!

bang chan was a really good boyfriend. sometimes.

now, that’s not to say that chan was a bad person, but sometimes he was just very busy, with him being an idol and all. but tonight, you had just gotten home from work, and it was extremely busy. but, when you got home, you were hit with the smell of your favourite food.

you walked into the kitchen and saw chan, at the stove, with a kiss the chef apron on. you came up behind him, which must have scared him because he dropped the spoon in the pan. nonetheless, you kissed chan’s cheek with a smile.

“you’re just in time” he says happily. “i was just about to dish up”

so he did. he dished up, and you both sat at your dining room table and ate, talking about how your days went.

after you had both finished your dinner, chan insisted he would wash the dishes as you had been stressed out lately, but you told him you would. and with around five minutes of back and forth bickering, you eventually won and went towards the kitchen to clean the dishes.

after a while, you were washing the pots and pans. there was a pan full of water in the sink, and you were washing the spoon. the scene was similar to when you had scared chan, apart from he was cooking and you were cleaning. just then, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a pair of lips attack the side of your neck, making you drop the spoon in the water below, causing the water to splash up your whole front.

see, this would have been fine, had you not be wearing a thin white shirt. the white, and now wet, fabric clung to your body, going slightly see through, so you could see your bra and tits.

“jesus! you scared me chan” you exclaim, placing a hand to your chest to basically emphasise how much you got scared.

“m sorry baby, you just looked so good. couldn’t help myself” he murmurs into the crevice of your neck. you move your neck to the side in order for him to have more access.

chan slowly kissed your neck, obviously not trying to start something, but it was just a sweet gesture to say thank you for cleaning up after he had cooked. you continued cleaning, until you felt the kisses stop and chan’s chin leave your shoulder.

“what’s up?” you say, not looking at chan. his arms still remained wrapped tightly around your waist, but you could just feel that something inside of him had switched. it was in the air.

when you received no answer, you turned your head to look at chan over your shoulder. his head was facing downwards, staring at your chest where the, now practically clear, fabric clung to your chest, outlining your tits perfectly.

you felt something grow hard against your ass, as chan pressed his hips into you, effectively caging you to the counter.

“you’re so fucking sexy, y’know that?” he murmurs, reclaiming his spot in your neck, this time leaving nibbles and the occasional harsh nip on your neck, which would be sure to mark by the morning, but none of you would really care.

you grab the spoon and continue cleaning it, aswell as cleaning the pan. chan bit your neck a lot harshly, causing you to move it a lot more to the side. you felt chan smirk against your neck, his hand travelling down your waist to the waistband of your pants.

you tried to swat his hand away, but he just grabbed your wrists with his free hand, spun you around and effectively pinned you to the counter with his body, your smaller wrists held in his bigger hand.

“chan, the dishes” you try to push him away, but it was a lot harder when you had your wrists pinned together. he brought his face out of your neck and looked at you with lidded eyes.

“do you want to finish doing the dishes, or do you want to help me out and let you feel good?” he asks, even though it was more of a rhetorical question as he already knew the answer. he pressed his knee against your thighs, prying them apart. you instinctively grinded down onto it, trying to get the slightest bit of friction from him.

“yeah” you say, almost bashfully as chan’s smirk widened. again, he moved his face back to your neck, sucking and biting.

as fast as you knew what was going on, chan hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist before setting you down on the dining table. your fingers had found their way into chan’s blonde curly hair and tugging harshly, effectively pulling his head back. you leaned up from your spot on the table and kissed him. chan quickly swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you gladly granted him. he swiftly slipped his tongue into your mouth, which then found yours.

his tongue pressed against yours, fighting for dominance, which he obviously won. he always did. you instinctively widened your legs around his waist, his body perfectly fitting against yours as if it was a missing puzzle piece. chan swallowed all the moans you made against his mouth, his not leaving yours for a second. it was as if he thought that if he let you slip from his grip even a tiny bit, you would leave. you knew that he knew you wouldn’t, thought.

as you both started to run out of breath, chan pulled away. instead of reattaching your lips in another steamy kiss, he attached his lips to your neck, his tongue softly running over the bites that had already started to form. your hands tugged on chan’s hair again, but, instead of leaving the sanctuary of your neck, he slowly kissed down your body.

as he reached the wet spot on your white shirt, he smirked, looking up at you, tugging at the hem of the shirt. your eyes said everything he needed to know as he removed your shirt and threw it somewhere in the dining room. you would find it later, you thought. chan smirked at the sight. you had no bra on, which you normally didn’t have at this time of night as it started to get uncomfortable and nip at your ribs.

chan took this chance to latch his lips onto your right tit, the pebbled bud instantly getting the stimulation it needed. you whimpered as chan massaged your other tit, twisting the hardened nipple in his thumb and index finger. soon, he changed over, letting your nipple go with a soft pop before moving it to the other tit and giving it just as much attention as he did the right. he followed the same process with your right tit and rolled the hardened bud in his fingers.  

when chan eventually moved away from your tits, he left a small peck on each of the nipples, resuming his pathway down your body towards the waistband of your shorts. he slowly undid the bow tightening the waistband and tapped your hips, signalling for you to lift them.

“lift these for me, pretty” he says softly, looking up at you from his knees. you did what he said, lifting your hips up, planting your palms on the table below you for leverage. chan shimmied your shorts down your legs and hooked a finger into your panties.

he smirked almost triumphantly as he saw the wet spot that had formed on your panties, before pulling your panties down your legs. you didn’t see him throw them though, so you assumed he had just placed them on the floor somewhere.

“so wet and all i have done is suck on your sweet little tits baby” he smirked, talking in a teasing manner, you only whimpered in response.

it was so sudden, one second chan was looking up at you with that smirk you oh-so hated (loved) on his face from his knees, but the next he dove face first into your wet cunt, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and licking a long stripe up your folds. you moaned out, leaving one palm on the table and tangling your other in chan’s blonde curls. as he dove his tongue into your folds, he instantly found your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over the poor sensitive nub.

as chan delivered a particularly harsh suck, you threw your head back and tugged harshly as his hair, but chan didn’t let out and instead kept going. you felt him smirk against your poor cunt as he flicked his tongue backwards and forwards over your clit, creating the best stimulation. but as soon as it started, he stopped, sticking his tongue out and pushing it as far as it would go into your hole, his nose bumping against your clit.

chan fucked his tongue into you, making you moan with the stimulation of his nose hitting your clit. he soon pulled his tongue back out of your hole, replacing it with his fingers. he pumped his middle finger in and out a few times before adding his ring finger, making you whimper at the slight stretch. he curled them upwards, hitting that spot inside you that made you weak in the knees. his mouth was soon back to your clit again, sucking and flicking as he fucked his fingers inside of you, making your eyes roll back as well as your head.

“g-gonna come channie” you whimpered out, chan didn’t let out, but instead went harder.

he delivered harsher sucks to your clit, making you moan out and begin to close your thighs around his ears. with his free hand, chan pushed your thighs back open and continued his assault on your poor bundle of nerves. you were beginning to get a lot more sensitive, the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten as you neared your peak. chan kept going, he didn’t stop for one second, not when it came to pleasuring his girl. you didn’t know he had removed his fingers until you felt both of his hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

you gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you moan loudly. you threw your head back, your eyes rolling back as pleasure took complete hold of you and made you see white. you didn’t know what had hit you until you came back to your senses. you felt chan lapping at your cunt, making sure he got every last drop of your juices and pecking your clit softly, making you you’re your hips softly at the overstimulation, before standing up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

you panted out as you took in chan’s appearance. his hair was messy, his eyes filled with lust and love, his lips swollen and puffed up.

“made so much mess baby, was it that good that you squirted all over my face hm? made you feel so good you just had to let your juices get everywhere” chan teased. your face flushed red and you tried to hide it, to no avail. chan grabbed your face and pulled it back towards him, making you look at him. “don’t hide from me, i think its hot baby” he murmurs.

you stared at him for a few minutes before he grabbed your hips, standing you up and turning you around. he bent you over the table, and before you knew what was going on, you heard chan’s belt being undone and clothes hitting the floor. you heard another piece of clothing hit the floor, which you just assumed was his shirt.

then you felt it, chan’s cock prodding against your hole. he slid it through your folds to gather your juices before he pushed himself into your hole, filling you up to the brim. tears pricked at your eyes from the stretch.

chan knew you couldn’t come from just his cock, and it wasn’t his fault (from the countless conversations you’ve both had before, which ended in you comforting him by sucking his cock, and telling him it wasn’t his fault and a lot of girls couldn’t). you both managed to find a way that would make you come on his cock, which was him rubbing his clit. so in that way, it was pleasurable for you both.

chan travelled his hand upwards to your clit, pinching it harshly, eliciting a mewl from you. after a few seconds, you rolled your hips into chan, signalling that he could move. he did. he pulled out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you with so much force that the table beneath you moved an inch.

you mewled out again as chan pinched your clit, rolling it slightly but then circling it, making your hips buck from the overstimulation. chan kept thrusting as he did so, the sound of skin slapping against skin, along with your whimpers and chan’s soft grunts the only thing that was filling the room, followed by the squelch of your pussy that was taking chan’s cock oh-so well.

“taking my cock so fucking well baby, your pussy was made for me” he mumbled, messily drawing circles on your clit as his thrusts sped up, his hips pistoling into yours with so much force it kept moving the table bit by bit. “such a good fuckin’ girl for me yeah? fuck, you’re swallowing my cock so well baby”

it didn’t take much more before you felt the coil in your stomach start to tighten as you mewled and moaned in response, trying to grasp at chan. with his free hand, he intertwined his fingers in yours so his palm was against the back of your hand, pushing it down onto the table and thrusting a lot more harshly than before, before they started to become sloppy. chan’s fingers worked well on your clit, making you clench around his cock and spill your juices around him.

“god, i’m gonna breed you so well baby, give you all of my babies yeah?” chan groaned.

“m gonna come again channie” you whimpered out.

“yeah? then come for me baby, see if i can make you squirt again” he grunted out.

his words sent you over the edge, your pussy clamping down around chan’s cock, your juices squirting out around him. that must’ve sent chan over the edge as you felt him squeeze your hand and let out a long groan. chan kept thrusting and circling your clit, making sure you could ride out both your highs.

chan then pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers as he pushed his come back inside of you. he then pulled you up so you were standing with your back to him. he left feather-light kisses to your neck, your legs trembling as he kept you up.

“did so good baby” he muttered into your neck, “let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asked rhetorically, although you nodded in response.

chan picked you up bridal style and took you upstairs to the bath. he ran it and lay you in it, against his chest which was behind you.

“what about the dishes?” you murmured tiredly.

“i’ll do them later baby, don’t worry yourself about them” he said, cupping water into his hands and letting it fall onto your body.

“are you sure?” you asked, moving your head so you were looking up at him.

“m sure baby” he murmured, looking at you with complete adoration, leaning down to peck your lips. in response, you nodded and smiled. “we could always go for another round before i do though” he said not-so jokingly.

“christopher bang!” you exclaimed, hitting his chest playfully. he laughed in response.

[dilfl0v3rss]

smart mouth

"you know better, but still choose to end up like this" with the last word of his sentence ony made sure to feed each and every inch of him down your throat, spit trickling down your chin as you gagged around his wide dick. your panties were soaked with your arousal, big brown eyes filled with hot, wet tears as you kept your sights on him alone. "gotta smart ass mouth on you, but daddy gon fix that real quick, aint he mama?" he said, his deep voice causing his chest to rumble as he continued moving your head back and forth onto him. he gave you a couple more strokes before pulling your mouth off of him completely, smirking as he watched you intake as much air as you could before exhaling over and over again, your lungs in a hurry to get familiar with the air its been denied.

you nodded at his previous question, giving him a mindless 'mhm' before moving hungrily towards is dick in efforts to reconnect the two of you, but ony was quick to stop you. he wrapped an inked hand into your hair, pulling your head back as he stared down at you condescendingly. "such a greedy girl, i got sum for you tho c'mere" his other hand found your throat, pulling your face up towards his until you were standing right in front of him before he pushed you flat on the bed. each of your thighs grabbed by dark, tatted hands as he pushed your legs towards your chest. the fabric of your panties began to tighten the closer your knees got to your face, giving ony the perfect view of your pussy through your bright pink thong.

he freed one of your thighs, lightly teasing your clit through your underwear with his thumb to draw those pretty moans he loved so much from your lips. "sound so sexy, makes me forget how dirty y'mouth could be." you ignored his words, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body fought with ony's other hand to arch off of the bed. of course you were of no success, bottom half practically glued to the bed by the strength of ony's one hand on your thigh. just the thought of it made you want him even more, your hands moving towards his abdomen to caress the inked skin. "unt uh mama no hands today, you been bad remember?" oh yea, this is a punishment. you're not sure how the thought slipped you or even what you did to end up here, but it was far too late to try to plead with him now.

you obediently moved your hand away, putting each of them over your head where they claimed a tight grip on the sheets. ony nodded at your compliance, seeing it as progress. his hand reclaimed its spot on your other thigh, pushing it down towards your chest as well before he slowly moved his dick towards your clothed heat, lightly rubbing his length up and down your center. you moaned at the contact, your grip on the sheets tightening as you chanted his name over and over. "i know ma." he continued his movements, moving a little rougher at times to keep you on edge, you were losing your mind under him. "p-papa please" you whined, his firm grip on your thighs still giving you no way to move to get any more than what he's giving you.

ony could tell what you wanted just by the look in your eyes, a devilish smirk spreading towards his lips as he played dumb. he tilted his head up towards you with a deep 'hmm'. "w-want you inside" you were in no position to make demands right now given that he was upset with you and literally had you pressed down into the mattress, but you thought it'd be worth a try. "want me in your tummy?" his voice was full of faux sympathy and you knew it, but your desperation outweighed your common sense, so you begged. "yes please please please daddy. want you t'fuck me now" ony chuckled at your neediness, rubbing even harder into you before bringing his lips down towards your neck. he completely ignored what you said as he sloppily kissed down your body, leaving small bites in some places until he were face to face with your clothed pussy. "m'not fuckin you t'night princess"

the whine you let out was less than a second before ony gave you a sharp tap to your heat, the wet patch in the fabric only growing as he left small kisses on your clit right after, stroking himself slowly as he teased you. the difference in affection made your head spin as you watching him slowly outstretch his tongue towards where he knew your entrance was, dark brown eyes staying trained on yours as he slowly dragged the muscle up up your center before sloppily eating you out through your panties. his tongue moved skillfully over the fabric, still licking and sucking you to the point where your legs shook. "fuck baby" you moaned into the air, back arching off the bed as you tried to grind your pussy onto his tongue. ony didn't give you the chance to, moving back just enough so you were met with nothing but air. a chuckle escaped his lips as he watched you huff and puff above him.

ony abruptly stood up in front of you, his hand still wrapped firmly around his dick as he stroked himself slowly above you. each of his groans only made you wetter as you watching him pleasure himself to the sight of you. "you so pretty ma, jus need you t'act right" your eyes followed his hand, his pace slow and steady. you were so desperate for him, but you knew not to move again since it was likely that he'll cuff you this time. "i-i will daddy, promise" his groans made you want him more and more, his broad chest rising and falling steadily as he looked at you needily. "gon stop talking back t'me n start being the good girl you know i want you to be?" he stroked himself faster, moving his thumb down towards your clit where he began to rub in quick, small circles. you moaned into the air, legs acquiring a slight shake as you nodded along to his words. "y-yes! whatever you want pa, p-promise t'be better" your release was approaching quickly and he knew that, moving his thumb faster to push you closer to the edge. you could tell he was close as well, his hand moving at a quick pace as his hips bucked every so often. at this rate he was going to make the both of you come at the same time, his hands working wonders for the both of you as he pushed you to the brink of your release. "okay, i hear you baby" a relieved sigh left your lips but that relief didn't last long. at the same time you noticed that ony was no longer pleasuring you. his other had was by his side as he alone met his release.

"but when i actually start seeing that attitude change then ill touch you how i know you want me to."

[ronearoundblindly]

Safety Captain (1)

lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!Reader (see series)

Summary: A very sexy man shows up at a very unsexy moment during your vacation.

Warnings for mild language, other guests being as thirsty as Reader, and a vague injury/danger. WC 1945

Written for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration (I'm very late tho 🥲), using the prompts “it hurts when I ___” “then stop doing that” and pool/resort/hotel. There will be a few small parts to this with eventual smut; this is just the meet-cute sorta.

If you consider drowning a peaceful and relaxing experience, then your trip’s going splendidly.

Water hitting your lungs stings much worse than sunscreen in your eyes, but the shock makes you gasp anyway. Your skin feels pressure everywhere. You don’t know which way is up. The world is bright and blue and shimmering until an arm encircles and yanks you backward by your chest—your bare chest, you realize, since the cups on your bathing suit top flipped when you hit the the pool at such a steep angle.

Once at the surface, a gift and a curse greets you, garbled hum replaced by a solid slap of screaming, the blare of whistles. Light burns, water burns, air burns.

Oh yes, this is going swimmingly.

You struggle to get enough fresh hell anyway, coughing out water, air stinging worse. Your limbs contract to fight the pain, but the wall of muscle behind you is unyielding.

“Out of the way,” a deep voice shouts close to your ear. “Buck, make me some room. Get them back.”

He—whoever he is holding you so firmly and safely—moves you to the shallow end’s stairs with heaving strokes, and just when he releases your body to lift you out of the water, he quickly flicks the front of your suit back into place.

Bless you, kind sir. You’re in love…

…or maybe that’s the hypoxia.

Unceremoniously hauled to solid ground, you continue to sputter.

“It’s alright. I got ya. Breathe for me. That’s good.”

Your sunglasses are gone, so you squint up in his shadow to see nothing but a halo of dripping gold hair. Then your eyes adjust. You see him.

Suddenly, the world is bright and blue and shimmering again, all contained in the stare of your sweet savior.

When he smiles, well, you need even more air to recover.

You’re on your side until he’s sure all the water is out of you, until his hands help you sit up, looky-lous everywhere being herded farther off by two more lifeguards and some resort security.

“The boys…” you rasp out.

“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.”

You still feel compelled to explain.

“The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.”

“I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.”

“Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway.

The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear, quickly interrupted by a girl shoving your sunglasses in his face.

“I found these,” she announces, elated. “I thought it was important since you were so brave, saving someone who fell in.”

You didn’t fall; you were pushed. There’s a difference.

The lifeguard’s smile turns tight, but he gestures for the girl to hand them over to their rightful owner. She continues to stare with huge, bambi eyes.

Politely, he takes them from her and clears of his throat.

“Thank you. Now step back please.”

Her disappointment is palpable before his blue gaze returns to you. As he asks if you’re ready to move, his palm lands on your lower back and stays there supportively.

The best you can do is shift your legs beneath each other and then hiss, “it hurts when I put weight on this leg. I think I twisted my ankle on the way down.”

“Then stop doing that,” he chuckles, swooping to get his arms under you and carry you to your lounger—the right one, immediately, as if he saw the boys fighting but knew exactly where you were before then, too.

The stout little thirteen-year-old who’d been picked on steps up to you with guilty eyes. He’s one of your charges today while the other adults all drink at the swim-up bar.

“I’m sorry they—“

“It’s fine,” you croak.

“—but they wouldn’t stop, and I told them to—“

“Hey, hey,” your lifeguard whispers, deflating the boy’s panic, “she’s gonna be okay. Just a little banged up, but we got the best of the best coming to help.”

Shamefully, the boy’s eyes turn down. “Sorry they called you a ‘bitch.’”

Great. Yeah. That needed to be repeated.

“Don’t worry about it. Can you go grab your cousin and—“ a brief wheeze overtakes you “—the girls and bring everyone back here so I know where you all are? Just a real quick check-in.”

He nods and runs off, almost plowing into a woman heading straight for you.

“Ah, your nurse has arrived.” The handsome, dripping wet man sitting with a hand still on your knee beams. “The best of the best, as promised.”

The older blonde lady purses her lips and rolls her eyes, ticking her head to the side. “Scoot, Steven. Let me have a look.”

He—Steven, apparently—rambles off what happened and what you mentioned hurt, standing out of the blonde’s way, but leaning over her shoulder, hovering while she manipulates your ankle.

“Thank you, darling.” She looks up pointedly. “I’ve got it from here,” she says, turning back to you. “I’m Sarah, dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

“I’m Steve,” your lifeguard interjects as he backs away. “Glad you’re alright, Miss…?”

You introduce yourself in return. “Thanks for…um…” You glance down and tug at the front of your swim suit, remembering that this man might have already seen and touched your breasts. “Thank you,” you finish weakly, voice hoarse.

Steve beams again before Sarah swats him away.

While she wraps your ankle and anchors a bag of ice to it, you scan the guard towers to realize all three of the guys on duty are ripped, but Steve is…well, he’s something else.

“God, he’s gorgeous,” you sigh aloud without realizing.

Sarah snorts, muttering, “he gets that a lot.”

You smile, thinking it’s probably no secret that the cute guy gets around. “Bit of a man whore, is he?” you joke.

The nurse looks up at you sternly. “I should hope not! I raised him better than that.”

Shit.

Your face drops, a harsh and painful swallow globs down your throat, and you…just objectified that poor man to his mother who he so sweetly called ‘the best of the best.’

Is drowning totally off the table, or can you revisit that?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I—I just meant—“

She squeezes your hand, putting you out of your misery.

“It’s fine, dear. He is handsome, and I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She packs away the last of her gear only to catch Steve’s eye across the pool.

He waves in your direction.

Sarah chuckles but doesn’t wave back. You put a quick hand up and mouth ‘thank you’ even though he probably can’t see that part.

“Well,” the nurse adds, “seems you aren’t the only one looking.”

Having one foot twice the size of the other can work. You can make it work. You’ll just camp out on a beach towel farther up the shore, no problem. The whole party is together today, day three of seven, so the good news is that you aren’t responsible for anyone. Also, your foot is only that size due to bandaging and not because it’s that swollen. Still hurts though.

In addition to a wicked limp, you need a relatively hard surface to sit on or stand up from. You end up on the rim of damp sand, wriggling to get comfortable. You try laying on your side, propped up on a bent arm. You try your stomach. You’re about try your back, reaching for one of the kids’ towels to roll up as a pillow when you notice a group playing volleyball.

Must be fun to, like, walk and stuff.

You sigh.

It’s fine. You are lucky enough to be on this trip in the first place, your ticket paid for by all the parents combined (with the agreement you’ll help wrangle the younglings for periods while the moms and dads do adult activities). The ‘job’ is a wildly fair trade since the families only split so far was the pool yesterday.

Is that…is one of the volleyball players waving at you?

You look over your shoulder, but there’s only the rest of your group, splashing and running through the surf. No one is facing you or the game.

As you turn back, starting to raise your hand, you see the golden glow of the player’s hair and think that sure resembles the lifeguard, Steve, from—

The guy waving at you gets hit, hard, by a spiked ball and stumbles back. Some commotion rumbles through the group, but you can’t hear specifics.

Shit, that is definitely Steve, son of Sarah, employee of the pool, jogging toward you. Are your tits covered?

You awkwardly pull yourself upright, shielding your eyes from the partially-overcast, bright sky, and smile.

“Hey,” Steve chirps, “thought that was you.” He is, again, in naught but board shorts and beauty.

“Yup, living the dream.”

He ignores your sarcasm and asks how your ankle feels (“meh”), if it’s messed with your plans so far (“had to bow out of zip lining this morning”), and if he might be welcome to sit with you for a while.

You blink a few times in shock behind dark sunglasses. “Won’t your friends…?”

He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, and drops down to the sand.

“I don’t see why not,” you say after he’s made himself comfortable.

When the littlest girl from your group comes shrieking over, bucket and scoop in her hands, you’re about to apologize for the interruption, but Steve immediately offers to help her build the castle of a lifetime.

He is sure to warn her to be careful around your foot.

This time, when you mouth ‘thank you,’ he sees it and returns another beaming grin.

Alright, perhaps vacation is looking up.

Steve is…very, very good at strategizing the sandcastle. After the first ‘tower’ goes up, the other kids get involved. Before you know it, the parents are all behind you gushing over how good your friend is with them.

"Handsome, too."

"Lots of energy."

"‘Bout your age, isn’t he?"

They aren’t quiet enough to not be heard which is clearly the point once the mother of bucket girl shouts out that Steve should join you all for dinner.

Oh, sweet holy—

“Not sure I wanna dive into your family time, ma’am,” he says politely, encouraging some water be brought up for the moat they’ve just dug.

“Then you should take our lovely girl here out. Show her more of the island.”

You glare daggers at the other woman who just chimed in.

“I can’t walk,” you bite out. “Where am I gonna go?”

Steve clears his throat to get your attention. “They line food trucks over on the west road until late, and…” his lip pinches to the side “…I can carry you.”

One of the dads darkly drawls, “like a fucking princess,” and you hear a sharp slap from his wife in annoyance.

Steve’s gaze remains locked on yours as the parents erupt in obvious innuendo.

“Could be fun,” he admits, only loud enough for you. “How about it? Getting hungry?”

All you manage is a nod before a bucket of water is tossed on Steve, and he chases the culprit down the beach and into the clear blue sea.

You’ll have to wait until the ‘monster’ is vanquished by the ecstatic children jumping to take down the big, strong man you, apparently, have a date with.

[Next Chapter]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Apologies that this isn't the whole dang thing. With how long everything has been taking me to write, I was afraid it wouldn't even be summer anymore, and if there is even a small chance that posting this will light a fire under me to finish, I am willing to try.

[nekomanager]

.—001 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃 ♡ BLUE LOCK

headcanons - ft. isagi, bachira, kunigami, kurona, yukimiya 

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ mentions of 69; cunnilingus; marking; creampie; titsucking; overstim 𖦹 @enchantedforest-network

♡ ISAGI

•••always asks you if you're just fine from time to time; is this alright? am I hurting you? let me know if you're uncomfortable;

•••most of the time in his head on how to please you; knows all of your pleasure points and gets even more excited when you're being vocal about it;

•••making you cum is like scoring a goal for him; so while he's very sweet and considerate at first don't expect it to last very long;

•••once he's inside you and he's feeling the rush, he'll fuck you senseless; your moans and whimpers fuel him even more;

•••probably feels slightly guilty on the inside but with you crying that he feels so good, there's no going back now and he's out here to make you feel even better;

•••he can fuck you in any position or rather you both would end up in different positions any way; he goes slow at first but then he gradually speeds up, fucking you like he has a time limit;

•••the type to chant your name in passion as he huffed and lost himself;

•••loves to spill it all inside you; his cum hitting your womb is like the ball hitting the net for him;

•••always leans down to sweep off stray hair from your face and kisses you; might apologizes if he goes overboard, but gets immense satisfaction at seeing how good he made you feel; aftercare king right here;

♡ BACHIRA

•••sex with him requires all clothes off; he'll worship your body, admiring it not only with his eyes but also with his hands/mouth;

•••expect his tongue to end up between your legs; loves it when he gets you dripping wet and he can suck you like a free flowing honey that juices spill down his chin;

•••he loves when you're riding on top of him; the way you're giving your all as you humped down on his dick makes him wanna rail you good;

•••he'll bounce you rabidly against his cock, letting go of his inhibitions as he loves doing it impactful and fast until you're too spent to remain in control, giving yourself fully in pleasure too and showing your wild side to him like you have never shown any other;

•••won't stop til you're both limping and whining; but loves it whenever you end up laying on his chest so he can cradle you and wrap his around you, assuring himself that you're here to stay;

♡ KUNIGAMI

•••oh, god! he loves it whenever he feels like you're so little compared to him; the way you clutch onto muscular arms and your eyes close whenever he enters you;

•••it's always the slow but heavy strokes for this guy; like he'll take almost all of his length out then slam it back in; fuck...just so you could feel the absence of his cock in your pussy and the difference when he already stuffed it in, stretching you full;

•••he always has his jaw clenched as he fucks you; it's a sexy sight to behold as he's so trained on you and serious yet he has a gentle hand lovingly over your head;

•••his groans and grunts are just so manly hot; it all seemed beastly as his muscles flex while he thrusts in you yet he's so tender by sensually kissing you and praising you from time to time, "yes, that's my good girl. take it in. take it all in";

♡ KURONA

•••sharky's open to try out new things in bed or even in the absence of it; knows your needs without you saying it tho he may initiate sex out of the blue from time to time;

•••teases you by biting the shell of your ear and when he does that you know he's down for something regardless of wherever, whenever you both are;

•••his oral fixation leads him to leave bite marks all over your body especially all the fleshy parts of you; specifically fond of your inner thighs everytime he eats you out; your tits whenever he leaves a big ring of his bite mark around your nipples;

•••tho he loves penetration, he finds it super special when you 69; your mouth passionately wrapped around his dick as he plays with your pussy and ocassionally chomps on your squishy ass cheeks;

•••finds it special whenever you leave a mark on him too; especially whenever you feel so much pleasure from the ministrations of his cock or fingers that your teeth sink on his shoulder;

•••drowns your ears with whispery moans and soft whines; looks irresidtible everytime his face will contort and flush helplessly while cumming;

♡ YUKIMIYA (got carried away here bc he's my bllk hubby T^T)

•••can't emphasize this enough but he can't have sex with just anybody; it has to be with someone he loves; sex for him is a form of showing how much he loves you and vice-versa;

•••a blend of tender, sweet and playful; he's down for whatever you're into and is not shy to let you know if he wants to do some freaky stuff that he wants to try as long as it doesn't involve other people; not the type to get aroused with the idea of sharing you;

•••when he fucks he fucks with his all; loves touring your body with his mouth and hands; fingers lovingly play with your pussy as he has his tongue rolling around your nipple;

•••never underestimate his gentleness; he's also passionatr and it shows in the way he stirs your insides up; like he has so much affection for you that he wants you to feel in the way he jerks his hips, sucks your pussy, plays with your tits; he wants you to feel just as overwhelmed as he is;

•••enjoys giving and receiving at the same time so he gets extra hard whenever you initiate stroking his length;

•••big on praise and he never fails to let you k ow how much he finds your pussy irresistible before he digs in and eats you out;

•••gets off with your praises too; pounds harder whenever you moan how good he's making you feel;

•••loves the feeling of your tits jiggling against his chest as he lowers himself to fuck you deeper; his gaze will remain in yours, remembering how beautiful you look like as you writhe beneath him;

•••always hugs you tight whenever you cum so he can feel how the tremors wash over you;

•••into giving soft commands; right there...princess; yes, nice and slow...nice and slow. there y'go. good...keep it up, just like that...mhmm, you're so amazing;

JOIN THE 🍷 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄! Get tagged whenever I update ♡

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[allpiesforourown]

Shizun Binghe is now on the look out for more opportunities to dress up Shen Yuan as his pretty little wife and if Shen Yuan doesn't want to keep the outfit afterwards? That's fine, it gives Binghe another chance to come up with the absolutely perfect outfit to both display his wi-disciple's lovely features while also hiding them and making it perfectly clear that this is BINGHE'S wi-disciple, no touchy

Shen Yuan in Qing Jing green is already a vision, but Shen Yuan in blue? or even red? Shen Yuan in black? Different necklines, some that hint at Shen Yuan's collar bone, others that emphasize the neck or some that skim just above and change the perception of the shape of Shen Yuan's chest

Hair braided or up in a pony tail, brushing over the back of Shen Yuan's neck or long and loose and swaying like Shen Yuan's hips as he walks, hiding and revealing with every step

Slits cut into the skirts with flashes of the long, pale legs beneath as Shen Yuan walks

Slippers so delicate that Binghe must carry Shen Yuan over obstacles (or always) to avoid ruining the shoes lest Shen Yuan be reduced to being barefoot and Binghe accused of being a terrible husband unable to support his wi-disciple (you wouldn't want to let shizun face such accusations would you my sweet wi-disciple? just let shizun carry you) or boots with a slight heel that make Shen Yuan's hips sway just a little bit more than normal

Bracelets around strong, delicate wrists, white jade bracelets that pale in comparison to Shen Yuan's complexion, rubies that look like blood against snow

Binghe has the entire treasury of a demon emperor at his disposal, not to mention all the treasures he's gathered over the years, what else is all that treasure for except to spoil his wi-disciple and indulge Binghe's own desires?

The trick is just finding the right missions to make use of the new wardrobe

I like that you wrote a million words about how sexy shen yuan would look under all these accessories and then ended with "just gotta find a way to make it happen tho" God that's real. Praying for binghe hope he gets his dis-wife-ple dresed up

[retro-rezz-the-est]

Don't Leave - Roman Reigns/Female!Reader

Summary: Immediately after his devastating loss to his cousins Jimmy and Jey at Money In The Bank, Roman finds you in the back as he looks for an outlet for all of this newfound pent-up energy…but this may lead to something else as well.

Word Count: 14,197 (jfc that's more than I expected)

Warnings: degradation, choking/throat squeezing, biting/marking, hair pulling, spanking, oral (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), edging (for both parties involved), unprotected P in V action (please be safe and wrap it before you tap it irl tho), Roman being his Tribal Chief self (because that’s a warning all on its own), a bit of manhandling here and there as well….y’know, the works :3

A/N: All of this comes from three connecting factors: 1) Roman being the sexy ass WHORE that he is, 2) my own brain finally starting to work in tandem with my damn writing fingers, and 3) an all-caps DM from @stargazerofgoldenwords demanding that I write this so full partial blame goes to her. So here y’all go…for the bitches and the bros and for all the non-binary hoes ^3^ (I also haven’t written a full-fledged smut in I believe over three years so….I hope I did good lol)

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

This…This can not be happening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They…They did it.

They actually managed to do it.

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

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

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

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

….but Roman?

Roman is pissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not anymore.

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

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

But the two in the ring just smile.

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

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

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

You have to find him, and fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs you.

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

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

“Roman, wait-”

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

Not now.

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

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

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

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

“Wise man…”

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

“Leave us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But being alone in a space with Roman Reigns?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For what, you wonder?

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

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

“Look at me.”

But, can you? Can you really?

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

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

“I said, look at me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I need you, baby, please.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, think again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needs you now.

“On your knees.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He always does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For you, things are…different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fu-uck, Roman, I need…I need-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, he’ll tell you that soon enough.

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

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

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

He just can’t.

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

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

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

Please don’t leave me.

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

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

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

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

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

A good nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

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

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

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

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

That’s a fucking promise.

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

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

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

Oh, fuck…

Tag List:

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

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

[missmeinyourbones]

SIMPLE COMPLICATION, MISCOMMUNICATION

cw: arguments aren’t fun :( suna is bad at communicating :( reader is frustrated and a tad insecure :( angst to fluff tho i swear, i was mad so i took it out on paper (and on rintaro)

The small crack of light creeping through your curtain feels equivalent to the burn of a hangover. 

The clock reads a reasonable almost ten in the morning, but your body dismisses the concept of time and aches for twelve more hours of sleep. You barely slept last night, tossing and turning for hours on end, all because of your stupid boyfriend. 

Suna’s terrible at communicating, no matter how many times you tell him. He’s human, prone to making mistakes and having his fair share of wheels that need greasing, but his avoidant communication skills are often the core of a handful of your arguments.

This time around, he’s been away for the week traveling with EJP—and while the travel is nothing new, you’ve only received a single phone call and four texts within the past week. 

Waking up with a pounding headache, you instantly groan at the thought of pulling yourself out of bed. Rintaro won't be home for another day, which means another night of no sleep and spiraling worry. 

At this point, coffee may be your only saving grace.

Trudging into your kitchen with knotted hair and morning breath, you barely even open your eyes as you mindlessly navigate your way to the savior that is your coffee machine. 

However, your apartment isn't as empty as you left it last night. 

“Yikes,” an unsuspecting yet familiar voice practically wheezes at your appearance. “You look like you slept well,” the voice oozes of nothing but sarcasm and instigation. 

Cracking open a tired and cranky eye, you see him through blurry vision. He’s comfortable on the couch, phone placed on the coffee table and hands on his knees as he sits up, now knowing that you’re awake. 

He looks good, and as relieved as you are to know he’s back home safe, you don’t have it in you to be merrily surprised. 

“Why’re you here?” you growl. 

Rintaro bites the inside of his cheek. He’s not too surprised at your cold greeting, but winces all the same at your harsh tone. 

“Ouch,” his hand covers his chest in hurt. “Is that any way to greet your sexy boyfriend first thing in the morning after he’s been away?”

“When I’m pissed at him, yes,” you snap with a burning annoyance. You sound tired, and Suna ignores the ache in his chest that knows it’s because of him. 

Standing quickly and making his way toward you, his eyes follow your every move. You walk by him without so much as a glance and make your way over to the coffee machine. Turning it on, you sigh against the counter and wait for it to warm up. 

“What are you doing here, Suna?” 

His breath catches in his throat, “Suna? Since when was I demoted?” 

He must have been slowly inching himself towards you, because he now stands beside you in the kitchen. He moves to press a kiss to your temple—testing out the waters—but you immediately step away and hold up a hand that wordlessly tells him to back off. He makes a mental note of the silent message. Sailor’s warning, rocky seas ahead. 

“I’m serious,” your eyes remain locked on the coffee machine whirring before you.

“So am I. Suna?” he tries again. His nails scratch at his stubbly jaw in thought, “Nope, never heard of him. Don’t know who that is.”

As if your tone isn’t clear enough that you're unimpressed with his antics, the scowl on your face solidifies any leftover room for interpretation. 

There’s no point in playing along with his games, so you fold. “Maybe that's because he’s been away for almost a week and has barely responded to any of my texts.”

Rintaro exhales. And there it is. 

The reason you’re giving him the cold shoulder after a week of being apart. The reason he wasn't met with the comforting weight of your frame jumping into his arms and a kiss filled with enough love to feed an army. The reason you didn’t answer his last three texts of:

surprise!!! trip ended a day early. boarding rn, can’t wait to see you :P

landed safe and omw, love u <3 

here so wake up and let me love you :/ coward

Rintaro inhales. It’s all making sense now. 

“Huh,” he frowns, “he sounds like a dick.”

You look him in the eye for the first time this morning and it sends an instant chill up his spine. A cold glare of anger and exhaustion and hurt. 

Suna doesn’t like it one bit. He loathes it, especially when it's directed at him. He decides that this has gone on long enough. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulder in an attempt to pull you into his chest. “C’mere, I’m sorry. My schedule’s been crazy.”

You resist, but not enough to actually mean it, so he holds your head in place against his chest. 

Noticing you're not yet hugging him back, he mumbles the confirmation into your hair, “Today’s practice got canceled. M’all yours.”

And suddenly, as if he’s been balancing on a wavering piece of glass and finally applied too much pressure on a crack, the panel shatters and you're pulling away from his hold with a shaky sigh. 

“I’m not in the mood to be your second choice today.”

The apartment falls silent, aside from the comedic timing of your coffee machine deciding to start drizzling the dark liquid into your ceramic mug. Your confession (followed by the deafening silence that shows no sign of you taking back your words) makes him swallow down the bile quickly rising in his throat.  

“Baby,” he breathes, voice now devoid of all airy humor it was laced with a few moments ago, “that’s not even funny. M’done with the bit now, c’mon.”

“I’m serious,” you snap, and the step Rintaro takes forward is frozen mid-stride.

“I haven’t seen you in days, barely talked to you. You said you would tell me when you landed safely in Brazil and you never did. You left almost half of my texts on delivered when I was only checking in on you, and—” 

“Shit, I know,” his voice comes out harsher than he means it to, and when the coffee machine turns off and makes his outburst all the more sour, he makes a mental note to break it later. 

The look of shock that flashes across your face is gone before he can address it, but it was there and now he’s afraid he’s going to see it every time he so much as closes his eyes.  

His tone is softer the second time around, “I know, and I’m sorry.” 

He thinks about taking another step closer to you, but the tears of frustration threatening to slip from your lash line tell him not to. So he keeps his distance and tries to speak as calmly as he can.  

“It’s been hard for me, too. Fuckin’ coach keeps changing the dates around on us, but when I’m not playing, I’m eating or sleeping. That’s all, you know that—”

“It’s not about that,” you coldly cut him off, upset that he’d even insinuate something as foolish as infidelity. That’s not where your mind was, and you both know that. 

Your head falls into your hands as your elbows rest against the chilly countertop. “That's your job, I know what is signed up for.”

He watches you close your eyes in disappointment and (what he knows to be) embarrassment, “But I worry, and I know that you know that.”

He doesn't miss the crack in your voice and the way it instantly creates a crack in his heart. He continues to watch, helplessly, as you bare yourself to him beneath the crumbling pressure.  

“And when you don’t answer, it makes me feel like I’m annoying you, like you don't want to talk to me. And if that’s the case, then maybe you shouldn’t have to deal with me being clingy and insecure and—”

“Yeah, stopping you right there,” he crudely interrupts, pulling your now malleable frame into his arms.

He coos at your shaky inhales against his chest, and it makes you feel like a wounded child. “You could never annoy me,” he promises.

And you know he means it, no matter how frustrating these past six days have been for you. 

“I’m sorry I blow at communicating,” his voice weaves in and out of your ears as he whispers into the crown of your head, “but please know that even when I’m busy and exhausted and practically a fucking zombie, I still want to talk to you. Always do.”

You believe him. It doesn't make it hurt any less, but you believe him. 

“Well, do a better job of showing it,” you mumble against his sweatshirt. It’s weak, but it’s there.

His hand finds your back, drawing mindless circles and pushing you further into his hold. As if you’ll slip out of his grasp like a bag in the wind if he's not cautious enough with you.

“Anything for you, baby.”

He holds you there for a moment, and the kitchen is filled with nothing but the sound of your sniffly breathing and the smell of steaming hazelnut. 

Eventually, his voice comes quiet, muffled from the crook of your neck as it vibrates your skin. 

“Do you really think I put my work before you?” 

“No,” your response is immediate because it’s true, “I don’t. I just missed you, Rintaro.”

You bite your tongue when you feel his smirk against your skin, and its not a second before he’s pulling away and you see it on his face. “Rintaro, huh?” 

You roll your eyes and go to push him off of you, but he’s too fast. His quick reflexes come in handy as his fingers catch your wrist mid-shove.

“Come on, just a little more, gimme what I wanna hear.”

“No,” your stubbornness wins as you twist your wrist in his palm. 

“Please, baby,” he begs without hesitation. “Just shorten it a few letters. S’all I wanna hear.”

“You’re annoying me.”

“I have a week’s worth of annoying you to catch up on,” he easily retorts.

Amid your bickering, Rintaro has backed you up against the counter, pinning you beneath his weight as he childishly slumps on top of you.

“You’re heavy,” he feels you groan.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Get off, Rin.”

His heart instantly swells at the sweet name falling from your lips, and his grin mirrors the internal organ as it grows three times in size. 

“There it is,” he coos as you try to shrug his hands away from cradling your face. You roll your eyes, but your smile is evident. “There she is, my pretty girl.”

You let him press his lips to yours, and while you tell yourself it to shut him up, you’d be a liar if you said that was the only reason. He tastes like the drugstore cherry chapstick he uses and the cinnamon gum he chewed on the plane ride home. 

“Missed you,” he presses another sweet kiss to your lips, “I love you.”

You swallow his words without remorse. “Love you too.”

He lifts you onto the countertop and laughs when you jump at the cold granite on your exposed skin. Next to your now lukewarm coffee, he picks up the mug with one hand and carefully passes it to you. He watches you take a sip, and hums into the beverage when you hold it up to his own mouth and let him have a taste. 

Between brushing noses and coffee-tasting kisses, he breathes. “Wanna help me unpack?” 

On command, your eyes roll. “You’re on thin ice, Rin.”

He wouldn't have it any other way, so he shrugs into your neck. “Good thing I know how to skate.”

[radiant-reid]

Reader drunk calling Spencer to pick her up from girls night and the entire way home she keeps hitting on him and trying to seduce him but they just started sleeping together snd he’s a consent king so he keeps saying no even tho it’s getting harder and harder to resist and eventually she starts crying and he’s like “what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” And she is sobbing going “my boyfriend my super sexy amazing boyfriend doesn’t think I’m hot” and he’s frantically shaking his head while blushing bc she called him sexy and she’s like “if I’m so hot why won’t you sleep with me? Do you think sex with me is bad?”

All you want to do is talk to Spencer. Honestly, it's slightly pathetic, and you'd be calling Penelope, JJ, or Emily whipped if all they could talk about was their boyfriend.

Still, Spencer isn't like anyone else.

He picks up within two rings. "Y/n, what's wrong?" The panic in his voice is typical for someone with your jobs.

"Nothing, nothing." You assure his worries, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry for calling so late."

"Or early." He laughs slightly. "Aren't you meant to be out with the girls?"

"Yeah, we went back to Penelope's." You inform him, shuffling on your feet on the balcony. The cool DC air feels good on your warm skin. "I just- I wanted to talk to you."

You can almost hear the smile on his face. "Do you want me to come get you?" He offers.

"I was about to call an Uber home." You inform him.

Spencer's already climbing out of bed, grabbing his glasses from the side table since he's not going to waste time putting contacts in. "No, don't." He tells you while he rustles around, jumping into some pants so he doesn't end up in front of his colleagues in his underwear before grabbing his keys and wallet and slipping into some shoes. "I'm coming to get you. You can't get an Uber this late."

He knows you can kick ass, and you know he knows, but you appreciate how much he cares and wants to keep you out of potential danger. "Okay, thank you." You say before hanging up.

Thanks to the clear roads, he's there in seven minutes, and you quickly say goodbye to the girls once you see his car on the street, not worried about their teasing.

Spencer gets out of the car, waving up at Penelope's window and helping you into the car. It's good that he does because you're so drunk you can't walk properly. "You okay?" He asks. "I brought water." He nods to the bottle in the cupholder.

"You're the best." You tell him, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "Love it when you wear your glasses, you know?" You ask rhetorically, sliding your hand onto his knee. "You look so hot."

He shakes his head. "Y/n." He warns.

"What, baby?" You ask, experimentally moving your hand further up. "You deserve a proper thank you for being so valiant."

"Words are enough." He assures you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as he moves your hand up to kiss the back of it. "Want me to drive you to your place?" He offers, although he's taking the correct turns to get to his place.

You shake your head quickly. "No, please, I want to sleep with you." You say, hoping he catches the double entendre.

He just nods, driving back to his place while you sit there in silence.

You're determined to get what you want, and your efforts don't stop when you get into his apartment. He grants you a quick kiss that you quickly deepen.

Spencer pulls away. "You taste like rum... white rum."

"Mm, good spot." You compliment him, running your hand down his chest. Spencer pulls back when you go to kiss him again. "What? You drink mojitos."

"Baby, you're drunk." He reminds you.

"And hot for you." You add, pressing your hips to his. He's not hard at all, but you're not going to let your momentary disappointment take over. "Come on, Spence. I want to have sex."

He cups your cheeks, shaking his head. "I can't do it." He tells you.

You bite down on your lip to avoid crying, but you desperately want to be out of his gaze. Never has anyone rejected you, let alone Spencer, who has always been eager to have sex with you. "I need to use to bathroom."

"I'll bring you some water." He tells you, moving away and letting you scurry away.

You cry as soon as you're behind closed doors. It would be stupid, but you've had enough to drink that the smallest thing feels like it could set you over the edge, and Spencer rejecting you is the worst ending to your night.

After a few minutes, Spencer taps on the door. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Mhm." You answer through sobs.

"Y/n, please, I can hear you crying." He begs, sounding sad himself, and you hate that you made him feel like that. "Talk to me. I can help."

Quickly, you feel angry, throwing the door open and meeting your boyfriend's soft eyes. "You can help? How could you possibly fix that you're not attracted to me?" You ask him, furious tears still spilling out of your eyes.

Somehow, his face softens more. "What, baby? What made you think that?" He asks.

"You can't have sex with me because you don't think I'm hot anymore." You complain. "And you're so hot, and now that you're not attracted to me, this will never work."

Spencer pulls you over to sit on the edge of the bed before sitting next to you. "I think you're the most gorgeous person in the world." He assures you. "You're beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute, and, of course, hot. I said I can't have sex with you because I can't, not because you've done anything wrong or because I don't find you incredibly attractive." He reminds you. "You've had enough white rum that I can taste it, and it wouldn't be right for me to have sex with you because you can't consent."

"Oh." You say, blush filling your cheek at being so wrong.

"Hey, hey, don't do that." He says softly. "Don't be embarrassed."

You sigh. "You're so sweet, you know?"

"It's the bare minimum." He reminds you. "Do you want to sleep?"

You nod. "Please... and there will be sex in the future when I'm sober."

He laughs at you, kissing you on the lips. "I'll eagerly await it."

[dwaekkicidal]

Worship.

˚ʚChangbin x Gn!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Making love with and worshiping Seo Changbin. No real plot, just reader spoiling Binnie (like he deserves 🔫).

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: want to say gender neutral but 1 very slight mention of pregnancy so fem!reader just incase, reader is referred to as “Bunny,” a teeny bit angsty; mentions of binnie feeling nervous about his ‘ab’ reveal, oral (m receiving), binnie cries like 1(½) times (im sorry), love making and slow sex (tho the sex itself is super short), creampie (try to pee after sex pls), tiny breeding mention

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I cant even lie i actually cried multiple times while writing this LMFAOO. 😐 I’m sleep deprived and I get suuuper moody when I am so here we are. anyways.. this was largely inspired by the tummy part i wrote in this, but i got super sappy and was listening to mind numbing, slow love songs while I wrote this so i made it worshiping him in general (i'm not sorry. he deserves all of this and more)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Your knees were so sore, the soft carpet under you was no longer doing its job in cushioning them from your spot on the floor. But, you’re not sure you would complain even if you were able to. The sight above you was one that you would happily fight every god and goddess for just the chance of seeing again. Changbin was leaned against your bedroom door, shirt bunched up tightly in his hand as he held it to his chest. His jaw is slacked and his eyebrows were knitted together harshly. Your jaw ached at this point, but you were here to prove a point.

You had overheard your boyfriend talking to his members about the recent “Ab reveal” comment he made in a recent SKZCode episode. The members had told him many times that he didn’t actually have to go through with it, that nobody would be mad at him if he decided to not do it. You took it upon yourself to talk to him about this, and when you realized that he was very shy about his tummy compared to his confidence about his biceps, you realized you had some work to do.

So, being the good lover that you are, you dropped to your knees and promised to prove to him just how sexy all of him was. And that’s how you got here. Now, focusing back on your goal you simply sunk farther onto his dick, humming against his sensitive tip as it hit the back of your throat.

“H-Holy shit… Bunnyy-”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and the hand in your hair tightened. His hand held you there for a few seconds until you gagged against him, then he finally pulled you off slightly. You could feel his legs start to shake under your palms as you returned to your previous pace, the pleasure was getting too much and you could easily tell how close he was when he whined so prettily. You hastily get back to work and use your hands on his thighs as leverage, bobbing your head forward and backwards with a strong desire to please him.

“Fuck! God, you’re so good to me, Bunny. What did I do to deserve you.” Your eyebrows furrow in a glare up at him before you lightly graze your teeth against his length as punishment, not enough to actually hurt him badly but just enough to remind him what this was all about in the first place. “A-AH! S-Sorry!”

You felt his hips stutter and you take that as the only warning besides his pitching moans, so you pull off so only his tip rests against your tongue and suck. Your hands move to quickly pump the rest of his length, paying extra attention to the sensitive underside, as he rides out his high. The hand in your hair moves to hold a deafening grip on his hip, he’s trying his hardest to not let out a pornographic moan as his hips buck uncontrollably into your mouth. His eyes stayed on the scene in front of him for as long as they could before they slammed shut from how overwhelming it all was.

Once his hips cease their movements, and are instead replaced with little convulses from sensitivity, you pull away and leave a soft kiss to his tip. A shaky laugh is pulled from him in pure disbelief of the intensity of the orgasm you just gave him. He goes to pull you up but you smack his hand away, opting to stay on the floor and litter kisses along his thighs. They trail unbearably slowly; up his thighs to his pelvis before trailing up to his stomach. You stay there for a while, appreciating the area with soft pecks of adoration and nibbles just to tease a little.

It was uncomfortable to crouch at this angle, but you needed your point to be proven. You needed this man to understand just how sexy he was to you. Just how fucking insane he drove you by merely breathing the same air as you. You were obsessed with your Seo Changbin, and honestly who could blame you? He was the hottest man in the universe. Very silly but serious when needed, he treated you like royalty even in front of his friends and family, and he communicated his feelings like you’d never seen before. He was everything a woman could ask of a man, and you felt it was your only goal in life to make sure he knew it.

After getting lost in your thoughts, you return to your endeavor and rise up to his chest. It was still rising up and down from his frantic breaths, but you ignored the chance to tease him over it and instead placed soft kisses to his pecs. You’re moving up again and linger at his neck, nibbling it softly and leaving hickies that you know would unfortunately fade by morning. When you finally reach his face, you hover mere millimeters away and take in his expression. He’s an absolute mess.

His breath still hasn’t returned to him, but this time it was prevented by the overwhelming tenderness being physically given to him. Something he’s never experienced on this level before. You almost feel guilty that you didn’t show him sooner, but before you can think too much into it you pull yourself together. He lets out strangled noises as you place kisses on his cheeks, then forehead, and finally his nose. You can only assume the noises are from the lack of your lips on his, but when you pull away to do so you realize you were wrong. You’re met with a heart-rending scene.

His pretty dark eyes are watery, and some tears have already fallen along the cheeks you just pressed your lips to. Your expression must show obvious surprise cause he frowns and more tears fall. His lips part as if he was going to speak up but you hush him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you finally place your lips to his. His hands plant themselves on your hips, he squeezes them a little roughly but you know it's to mentally ground himself so complaining doesn’t even cross your mind.

You two stay like this for some time, lips locked in a slow and passionate make out session, hands holding each other as close as physically possible. You finally pull away after some minutes, resting your forehead against his as you both stare lovingly into each other's eyes. The tears finally stopped falling but his eyes are still very glossy.

Your soft voice finally breaks the silence, as much as you want to continue your efforts, his well being is a million times more important. “You ok Binnie?” He takes a deep breath and chooses to nod instead of speaking up. You giggle and place kisses along his cheek again, giving him time to collect himself and finish catching his breath.

When he finally returns to his normal self he nuzzles himself into your neck and places his own kisses there. “Doing that to me during post nut clarity was so mean, Bunny. I’m gonna get you back for that tomorrow.” You laugh and pull away, bombarding his lips with soft kisses as a silent apology.

When you pull away, he speedingly kicks his pants away and tugs desperately at your shirt, “Why am I the only one naked, Bunny..” You smile and mumble an apology, tearing your clothes off before letting him lead you to the bed. You straddle him the second he lays down and his hands grab at the bottom of your ass cheeks, wanting to lift you so he can swap positions, but before he can do it you push his hands away. He gives you a confused pout as you push him down to lay on the bed, hovering yourself over his dick and leaning forward to press more kisses to his collarbone.

“Mmm.. ‘already told you I wanna spoil you tonight, Binnie. If you let me, I just wanna worship you for a bit..” He bites his lip and nods. “I promise if we do a round two I’ll let you take control. But, for now, let me spoil my God-like boyfriend to make up for all the other chances I missed.” He groans and throws his arms over his head, freeing his hold on you to let you take the reins.

He feels you smile into his skin and it manages to give him butterflies. He quickly gets lost in thought when you bury him in another pile of kisses. At this moment in time he’s finally realizing just how tightly he’s wrapped around your finger. The boys have teased him over it for months but he never fully saw it until now. He fears that if you would ask him to set the world on fire, he wouldn’t hesitate. It’s normally scary to love somebody that much. But as your kisses move between his neck, his pecs, his biceps, and his tummy… All he feels is pride. The man before you realizes in this very moment that he is in so much deeper than he thought he was.

It’s when you’re finally sinking down on him that he distances from these thoughts surrounding his newfound awareness. He lets out a quiet moan at the feeling of you wrapped around him, and another at the sight of his beautiful Bunny sitting so prettily on his dick, biting their lip and looking down at him with such warmth in their eyes.

And you? You’re met with the sight of your beautiful boyfriend, the man you would drop everything in the world to marry and run away with, if he so asked. The man who does everything in his power to make you happy. The man who would, and has, done everything physically possible to keep you safe from the dangers outside of your shared apartment. As you grind down on him, you start to slip into your own thoughts. But the shine of his eyes starting to water again has you immediately stop your movements in worry.

But when the moans from him were replaced with whines and a distressed pout, you couldn’t dare to bring yourself to deny him of what he wants. Your hips start to lift and drop you onto him slowly. The two of you would normally be fucking like rabbits, but after everything that just happened there’s a silent agreement to take it slower tonight.

His hands grip tightly to your hips, helping you in the up and down movements as you lean down to be chest to chest with him. Your eyes lock and stare into one another’s for a few seconds before you fold first, leaning further into him for a kiss. Your movements would have stopped completely if it wasn’t for his hands doing the work now, grinding you against him slowly. The tears in his eyes finally go away just in time for him to watch you pull away, leaning back up to continue towards your goal. Then, just like earlier, you lose yourself in efforts to please him and love on him. Your hips slap against each other in a slow rhythm that still gets the job done.

When he feels you clenching harder and notices your hips moving more messily, he moves his hands to grab your wrists and starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. The fingers on both of your hands interlace with both of his, and this is how the two of you finish. Eyes, hands, and bodies locked together. When you don’t move to pull off him, he feels his chest swell with even more pride. However, this time caused by the split second idea of starting a family with you. The thought of settling down has crossed his mind before, but when you’re cumming like that above him after worshiping every inch of his skin you could get your hands on, the idea very quickly imprints itself into his brain.

You ride him for a little longer to make the highs last as long as possible, and when it's finally over, the two of you sit there in silence to catch your breaths. His hands grab your forearms to hold you in place as he sits up, then pulls you into another desperate but passionate kiss.

The two of you lay together; bodies tangled and lips locking together.

When he doesn’t lean back in for another kiss, and instead just stares at you with a smile on his face, you can tell he’s lost in thought. But based on the smile, you leave it be and just smile back. On his side of things, he decided to poke at you tomorrow to ask where this all came from all of the sudden. In the meantime though, he just lies and enjoys your warmth, reveling in the new objective he has for his life. The once comforting silence is broken when he mindlessly speaks about this new goal in his mind.

“Bunny?”

“Yes baby?”

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Nobody perceive me. I'm in shambles.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚖𝚊 - 𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍) 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft mommy kink(not femdom), creampie, lactation kink, nipple play

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 1,968

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes stepparent-stepchild stepcest, underage(17), Reader being called Mommy, creepy voyeurs and (unmentioned save for a tiny reference towards the end, fairly easily ignored) infidelity, No use of Y/n, 1st person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Generally vague setting, so you can imagine this taking place wherever and it’s kinda mini-AU ig? Menma is more of just a (really) bad boy instead of straight-up evil and he’s living in the village as Minato’s son, still got that sexy black hair tho😌

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

I looked down at my stepson who happily lapped at my leaking nipple. His eyes closed in bliss as he wrapped his lips around me and sucked wantonly, his fingers deftly playing with my other nipple, occasionally unfurling to grope at my entire breast which brought a sighed moan to my lips.

“Oh, you’re doing so good, baby.. So good for mommy..” I moaned out, working my hand into his pants to pull out his weeping cock. Menma moaned around my tit as I worked his shaft, making sure to rub my thumb over his leaking tip, spreading his pre-cum over my hand to make it easier to jerk him off. I looked up from my stepson and made eye contact with a man who was eyeing my tits with envy. I gave a small huff of amusement before looking him up and down, unimpressed, before looking back down at Menma.

The ravenette opened his eyes and looked right up into mine as I gave him a sultry smile. He smirked around my tit before playfully nibbling on my bud earning a cut off moan at the sensation. As another spurt of milk shot into his mouth, I sighed at the relief from my overfull breasts.

“C’mere, mommy,” the emphasis he said the new title with sent a jolt of pleasure straight to the heat between my legs as he lifted off my breast, sliding his hand up my chest to the side of my neck to pull me forward. I met him in a heated kiss, our tongues clashing wetly and I could taste my milk in his mouth and it only made him taste even sweeter. “You taste so fuckin’ good. I wanna feel you.” He muttered into my mouth as he kept invading me with his tongue.

“Oh fuck, please, baby..” I whimpered into him. He smirked at my submission and shifted to get into a position to hoist me into his lap. As he manhandled me, I got a glimpse around us and saw at least 5 men watching us, including the man from before who, entirely unabashedly, had his hand in his pocket to jerk himself off.

Once I was situated in Menma’s lap, I felt him sliding his cock head through my slick folds as he unhooked the clasp of my wrap dress and helped me shrug it off, leaving me entirely exposed. I circled my hips in anticipation as he nudged the head of his cock against my clit, earning a moan. I planted a hand on his shoulder to steady myself and used the other one to guide his head back to my chest where he gladly took a nipple into his mouth again and began to suckle.

“Fuck, baby… Oh, that feels so good… Oh, you’re doing so good for mommy.” I sighed and raked my fingers through his hair as I sank down on his cock.

“Damn, you think she’d be my mommy if I asked real nicely?” The crude voice of one of the men watching made me grimace but I turned my attention back to my stepson who greedily sucked and lapped at my milky tits.

“Nah, man, bet you gotta do your chores first,” I rolled my eyes at the joke and only focussed on rolling my hips against Menma’s.

“Fuck, Mommy.. You feel so fucking good. Taste so good, too.” His smooth voice vibrated against my skin and I looked down and met his eyes as he glanced up from his place and latched onto my chest.

“Thank you, baby… You fill me up so good..” I spoke with a moan lacing my words as I stroked my hand through his hair and started moving my hips more up and down on his length. My stepson lightly grazed my sensitive nipple with his teeth and it brought a gasp out of me from the shock and the sudden feeling. I felt him smirk against my skin and when I looked down I saw him looking up at me with a cocky gleam in his eye. To say it turned me on even more would be a massive understatement.

“Seriously, man, look at her, she’s the definition of a MILF!” I glanced at our little audience and I saw that they had dared to get closer, 3 of them closer than the rest and by the sound of it, the ones who made those comments.

“Baby, if you wouldn’t mind…” I looked down at my stepson lovingly with the unfinished request hanging in the air for just a moment before he pulled away from my tit with a wet ‘pop’. With a smirk, he leaned up captured my lips in a heated, passionate kiss and his tongue fully invaded my mouth, nearly driving me crazy.

“Of course, Mommy,” He pulled away and summoned just a bit of Kurama’s chakra to release a burst of wind around us to shove them all back. He didn’t force them entirely away from us, the voyeurism still excited us and spurred his vigorous actions. Using even that small bit of Kurama’s chakra made his nails slightly extend into claws and his eyes flash red as he gazed at me with his cocky smirk which also revealed his extended k-9s.

His nails dug into my hip as he encouraged me to keep bouncing on his hard cock. Happily, I complied as his other hand returned to my hip to grip at the flesh. His lips caught my swollen bud once again and he suckled more as he groaned at my cunt squeezing around him. His sharpened features receded but his iron grip on my hips remained.

I moaned whilst Menma sucked wantonly at my sensitive nipple and used his grip on my sides to add momentum to my hips crashing down to meet his. His dick plunged deep inside of me and slammed right into my sweet spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through my entire body. I cried out in pleasure as my climax washed over me. As I trembled and shook in ecstasy, Menma didn’t stop his movements.

He sucked at my tit until he could only get a small trickle of my milk. He groaned in protest as he continued to suckle on the drained teat. With trembling hands and a shaky coo at my raven-haired stepson, I gently pulled him from my chest and placed a wet kiss on his lips. He growled possessively into my mouth and kept on with his motions of assisting my hips up and down on his length. When we separated our mouths, I guided him to my other breast which felt entirely too full with the other having been drained by my gluttonous lover.

“My poor mommy, you must feel so full, huh?” He feigned sympathy as he nipped my boob just beside my hard nipple. My eyes, still hazy from my high, silently pleaded with him to take care of me and, with his cock still sliding in and out of my creamy pussy, he couldn’t resist. He laved over my nipple and wet my breast with his drool before he latched on and sucked with earnest.

The men surrounding us were still a bit vocal, though they weren’t quite as crude as before and certainly not as loud as to distract me from my stepson. He seemed to appreciate it as well, happily lapping and suckling on my breast without interruption while he used his strength to keep my hips’ momentum. His grip tightened whilst I could feel his cock twitch inside me, his pace only faltering for a split second. He was getting close but he was holding off his orgasm.

“Ooh, baby,” I cooed, “you’re close, aren’t you? Go ahead and cum inside me, cum inside mommy.” I spoke through breathy moans as he seemed to suck harder, just this side of almost painful. He let out a low growl denying that he cum yet.

My hand rushed to the back of his head, threading my fingers through his hair as I gently indicated to be more gentle. Silently— other than the grunting moans against my skin— he relented on his harsh suction and gently lapped at my bud in apology. In turn, I used the strength I had regained in my legs to move myself up and down on his cock. With my assistance, he was able to release one of his hands and slide it up my body to grope and squeeze at the breast he was suckling on.

With each squeeze, another spurt of warm milk rushed into his mouth. His eyes rolled back with a groan as he happily swallowed it down. My tit was slowly reducing its swell with Menma emptying my chest, thusly relieving the pressure of being so full.

Rather, while he emptied my chest, he filled me up in another way. The reminder of that hit with every time his cock bottomed out inside me. He reached so deep inside me. Not quite reaching the deepest parts of me, but full nonetheless. That was also inconsequential when I had a solution for those last few inches, so I had that absolute fullness and indulgence in my more.. risqué desires.

I felt my second climax quickly approaching and I felt Menma involuntarily bucking his hips up to meet mine as he sucked my other breast nearly empty. His hand roughly but carefully squeezing my tit released and returned down my body to my waist where he steeled his grips. The men around us became more vocal again, groaning and making other lewd noises that I could only vaguely acknowledge.

My focus was on my stepson and our looming climaxes. With his firm grip on my waist, Menma slammed me down on his cock and met with harsh bucks of his hips. His cock dragged along the spongy spot inside me and ended with slamming directly into my g-spot in one fluid motion. I screamed as my second orgasm ripped through me and had me gushing for a second time around his dick.

I vaguely recognized Menma sucking me dry before he released my nipple as his own orgasm hit. He clenched his teeth as he looked up at me with an intense gaze while he filled me up. His cum spurt into my spasming walls and filled me to the brim with warmth that spread to my belly. His fingers dug into my sides as he held my ass firmly against his lap while he finished.

He raised a hand to the back of my neck and pulled me down to meet him in a heated kiss. I could taste my sweet milk on his tongue and it sent one last wave of pleasure to my core. The men around us all groaned in a combination of delight at the sight of my baby boy filling my cunt with his hot cum and disappointment that the show was over.

“I think we’ve given them enough of a show, Mommy, what do you say we head home and I can take better care of you there?” Menma muttered against my lips with a cocky smirk. I chuckled at his subtle possessiveness and nodded, still too worn out to give a proper response. We silently agreed to at least regain the energy to stumble home before we moved too much. While we waited, his cock remained in my creamed pussy as we kissed and Menma pulled my dress to drape over me, much to the chagrin of our greedy audience.

New, small surges of arousal shot to my core when Menma possessively growled at any people that got too close for his liking. Each time he felt my wetness return he sent me a cocky smirk with a promise for later.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog

[chobani-flip]

do you ever think about how maybe tommy is a bit self-conscious about being older or getting older, like yeah, there's gray hair here and there, but also the skin around his eyes is wrinklier than it used to be and when did that happen? and like gray chest hair in places?

and then he looks at buck, who is just... ✨evan✨

but buck is just so very insanely into him. and also finds all those things extremely sexy. senses a bit of that insecurity. goes on a rant about agatha christie and her second husband, who was 14 years younger, and when people sneered at her about it she said: "the older i get the more interesting he finds me" 'cause he was an archeologist you know so

"evan, are you calling me a relic?!"

"hmm, a sexy one tho."

[libraryofloveletters]

Hallways Hold Our Secrets

Jack Grealish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader is rodri's sister, secret relationships, jack is sooo nervous, they're terrible at hiding their relationship, big brother!rodri, awkward family dinners, alcohol and the consumption of, some cheekiness from jack and some brotherly teasing from rodri.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: I cannot believe it took me so long to write jack. also shout out to pooks for the basis of this idea + this gif has literally nothing to do with the fic. jack is just sexy that's all (also look at my other mans in the corner even tho I be wanting to beat him up sometimes)

---

The message pops up on the top right corner of your laptop, you're certain it appeared on your phone as well but you're hoping he doesn't notice it.

Can I call you?

You click on it, typing back a response; I'm with him. Can it wait?

His reply comes just as fast; Just for a minute, I wanna hear your voice.

You shut the laptop, leaving it on the kitchen table. "Just gonna borrow this for a minute," you tell your brother as you grab your phone off the counter; he had been using it to get the recipe for dinner tonight since his was charging.

Rodri smiles, nodding. "Sure."

You disappeared around the corner, clicking the contact that frequents your call log. It barely got rang twice before he answered.

"Hi love," he sighs, as if he had dropped down to the couch. You smiled to yourself, leaning on the wall in the hallway. "Hi you."

"I miss you," he says, the words tugging on your heart. You could imagine the pout on his lips; coincidentally, also his favourite pose when he takes selfies.

"I saw you today, Jack." Your response comes out as a whisper, not wanting to be overheard.

"I know, is a man not allowed to miss his girlfriend?"

Once again, his words bring a smile to your face; girlfriend. That's what you were, even if it was a secret.

"You are," you smile.

Jack sighs, picking at his cuticle before he speaks again. "I wish you were here, I could use the company."

Man City had faced their first loss in a while. After being on a winning streak and the return from the treble winning season, this one hit them especially hard. To lose at home was even worse, it dug into them, rightfully so.

All of the boys were in a bad mood, Pep digging into them about what went wrong didn't help either. You had waited outside of the locker room in hopes of catching a quick moment with your boyfriend but he walked out with your brother who was more than ready to leave.

"Hermanita! Come taste this!" Rodri shouts from the kitchen and you sigh. "Me too, but another time, okay? I have to go."

"Yeah," Jack sighs, "I love you."

"Me too," you smile, hanging up before slipping your phone into your pocket. You walked into the kitchen, a smile on your face as your brother held the spoon out to you.

You tasted it, nodding. "It's good, needs a bit more pepper though."

"I thought so too," he nods in agreement, adding the rest of the chopped peppers that were sitting on the counter. "Where'd you go?" He asks as you return to your spot at the kitchen table.

"Needed my hair tie," you fib and his brows furrow. Your heart pounds in your chest when you notice his look, praying he didn't over hear your conversation. At the moment, it didn't occur to you that you had taken your phone with you and your lie made no sense.

"Your hair is untied."

"Yeah," you nod, "I couldn't find one."

Rodri nods, dismissing your words as he goes back to dinner, trying to finish up the last of it. Eventually he joins you at the table, your brother sits across from you, picking at the leftover pasta on his plate. "So, are you seeing someone ?"

You freeze, nearly choking on your juice. "What? Why would you ask me that?" You rubbed at your chest, looking at him with what you were certain was a confused look.

He shrugs, stabbing a piece of pasta. "You're 25, done university.. just seems like time to move on."

Your brother's displeasure with the last guy you dated was not something that he hid very well. He was a grade A douchebag, snotty and stuck up; when you look back, you wondered how you put up with all of his nonsense. You two dated from your second year of university up until right before your graduation.

During your last semester of university, you had taken a week off and came down to visit your big brother in Manchester. The break up was getting to you and it seems like everything around was a constant reminder of your wretched ex.

Rodri had taken you along with him to one of their home games, having you watch what your big brother does up from the stands as if you were 12 again, and afterwards you had gone down to find him and meet some of his teammates.

That was the first time you met Jack.

The two of you clicked instantly; a match made in heaven. From your personalities, to your sense of humour, to the way you dress and down to the way you texted were identical. You suited each other to a T.

It seems you two figured out as much as you went from not knowing each other to speaking every single day after you left Manchester.

Your older brother was aware that you and Jack were friends, but he didn't think much of it. He saw that you got along with quite a few of his teammates, which made him very happy.

What he didn't know was that you and Jack were more than friends.

Jack had come down to visit you during one of your off weeks. He didn't mention it to Rodri nor did you. The two of you decided that it would be your little secret until you've finished university and you can decide what to do from there.

It was just easier this way, there weren't any complications or strings attached if you decided to split up at the end of your semester.

You didn't realize that you'd find yourself in Manchester nor did you expect to fall in love with the midfielder so quickly.

Nodding, you clear your throat. "I will."

"I'm just happy you're over him, he was shit." Rodri says, clearing the table. You can't help the laugh that you let out, leaning back in your chair.

---

Match day; your favourite day.

The Etihad was full from top to bottom, the crowd cheering their names, hoping that the team brings home a win. To nobody's surprise, they managed to bring home a win and four points.

You had gone down, waiting for your brother as they got cleaned up after the game. You were taking a photo of their treble wall, all the photos of them smiling and celebrating with their trophies.

The familiar scent of his cologne makes you smile, you can hear his footsteps and you figure he'll appear next to you, not pinch your hip and scare you.

"Dude!" You jumped, swatting his hands away. Your boyfriend smiles, his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

"It's just me, relax," he whispers, chin on your shoulder. As the words leave his mouth, you melt against him; you can feel the warmth from his body, the mix of cologne trying to mask the sweat from 90 minutes on a pitch usually disgusted you but with him, it was tolerable.

Jack spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. "What are you doing out here?"

"Taking a picture," you lifted your phone to show him, flipping the camera to take a photo of the two of you. Both you and Jack make his favourite face; that duck face and then another one with you two smiling, and one more of him kissing your cheek.

His fingers mindlessly drumming against your stomach, looking at the photos on the wall when you snapped back to reality.

You weren't in your little bubble of safety with him; anyone could see you, your brother could see you.

It seemed unreal that you were 25 and still sneaking around, hiding your relationship from your big brother but it would be easier if you weren't dating his teammate.

You stepped away from Jack abruptly, the man's brows pulled together and there's a confused look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Someone could see us," you step further away, creating some distance from the two of you. Jack looked even more puzzled than he did before.

"And that would be the worst thing because.." He trails off, looking at you. You roll your eyes, leaning on the wall as you look at him. "You know, 10 would look much better on you." He nods towards your jersey, there's a cheeky grin on his face and you roll your eyes yet again.

You had worn your brother's jersey, as you do most match days. "16 looks perfectly fine on me, thank you for your input."

"You'd look sexy in a plastic bag, babe. Just saying 10 would be better on you."

You don't get a chance to answer, your big brother comes around the corner. His hand rests on Jack's shoulder, patting it firmly before slinging it over his shoulder.

"What's going on here?" Rodri looks between you two and you shake your head. "Just saying hello to your sister," Jack says, smiling at his teammate.

Rodri hums, nodding as he glances between the two of you. "Did y/n ever tell you about that chocolate cake she makes?"

"No," Jack shook his head, "I don't think so." - A total lie. Jack has had that cake so many times before and you had even gone as far as giving him the recipe, which was a secret.

"Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? I'm sure y/n won't mind making it, would you?"

You shrug, "yeah I don't mind, but I'm sure Jack has plans."

You glance between your brother and boyfriend, wondering what the sudden dinner invite was about. It wasn't that Rodri and Jack didn't get along, because they did. It just struck you as odd because it's not one of the guys Rodri typically hangs out with outside of work related events.

"I don't," Jack smiles at you. "I'd be more than happy to come over. Should I bring something?"

"No, man. Don't worry about that, come over for 8."

"Sounds good," Jack nods, smiling as he walks off.

You look at your brother, arms folded over your chest. Your eyes narrowed on the man, trying to figure out his motive. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Rodri asks and you nod towards Jack. "The dinner invite."

"I can't invite my teammate to dinner?" Rodri's brows furrow, looking back at you.

"You can. Just find it odd, considering that you and Jack aren't close like that."

He shrugs, "just felt like having some company over. Other than your ugly face of course." There's a smile on his face as he looks at you. You pinch his side, the man pulling you into a headlock as you two walk down the hallway.

---

Shirt covered in butter, flour and eggs and you had finally put the cake into the oven to bake. Your phone buzzes once on the counter as you tidy up. It buzzes again, then again and again.

Finally, you set the rag down and walk over to check who it was.

From Jack: Babe!!!

From Jack: I'm freaking out bro

From Jack: I don't know what to wear

From Jack: *1 Image Attachment* Should I wear this??

The series of messages left you confused, as did his outfit choice. Jack had sent you a photo of the ugliest Gucci shirt he owned and there were quite a few of them in his closet.

To Jack: That is the ugliest shirt I've seen in my life.

From Jack: That's fucking rude

To Jack: Also why are you freaking out?? It's just dinner.

From Jack: Can you please just come help me??

To Jack: I have a cake in the oven

From Jack: So ??? Please come. It's an emergency.

You sigh, walking down the hallway to your brother's room. You knocked, waiting for them to answer before you peek into the room.

"I ran out of sugar and I need it for the icing. I'm gonna run to the store, can you keep an eye on the cake? It's got a timer running so just take it out when it's done."

Rodri nods, trying to make up his bed "Sure, don't be too long. It's almost 7."

"Yeah, I'll be back soon." You picked up his car keys off of his dresser. "Love you!" You called as you walked out of the room.

"Drive safely!" He shouts back and the front door slams shut.

It was a 15 minute drive to Jack's place, the elevator ride up felt like longer and you tumbled through your purse to find the key Jack had given you to his apartment.

"Where are you?!" You shout, setting your bag on the table, kicking your shoes off.

"Bathroom!" He calls back and you find your way to the bathroom. Jack's back was to you, shirtless and quite tanned for a guy living in Manchester. You find yourself leaning on the wall, watching as your boyfriend tumbled through one of the drawers for something.

Jack chuckles, "I can feel you staring."

"So?" you smiled at him when he turned to face you. "I can't stay long, so what do you need help with?"

He walks over to you, his arm looping around your waist. "I can't kiss my girl hello?" He asks, leaning into you. His cologne overpowering any other scent, the familiar smell made your head spin.

"You can," you smiled, holding his jaw gently as you kissed him. "Okay come on though, let's pick something out." You hold his hand, pulling him back to his bedroom.

Jack sits on the bed, watching as you search through the closet for something for him to wear. "I really don't understand why you're so freaked out for dinner. You've had dinner with Rodri before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but at work stuff. This is different."

"How so?" You set a few choices on the bed. "I'm sure he's gonna be in sweats, Jack. No need to stress yourself out."

Jack looks over at you, "yeah but he invited me to his house. You're my girlfriend and he's your big brother. Even if he doesn't know, I want to make a good impression."

"That's sweet, now put this on." You smiled, handing him a forest green short sleeved button up you pulled out of the depths of his closet.

While Jack was getting ready, you searched through the drawers for a shopping bag you were sure he had left around. When you found out, you tumbled through his cupboards for a bag of icing sugar you knew you had left there and then you opened the fridge to get the butter.

"What are you doing?" Jack asks, appearing in the doorway.

"I told Rodri I was going to the store, I can't go back empty handed."

"So that means you need to take my butter?" He looks at you confused, fixing the sleeves of his shirt. You nodded, smiling at him as you walked to the door.

Jack follows behind you, watching as you put your shoes back on. "I've seen your bank account, you can afford to buy another tub of butter," you patted his chest, giving him a quick kiss before heading out.

When you returned home, the house was quiet. "Rod?" You called, walking into the kitchen to see your cakes on the stove cooling and the back door was open.

"Hey," your brother stepped back inside. "You're back."

"What's going on? " You look at him confused. "Why were you outside?"

"I figured we could eat outside tonight, it's nice out."

"Okay then," you turn your attention to your cake, starting on the icing. "Did you get everything you needed?" Rodri asks, scooping some icing up on his finger.

You smack his arm, the man smiles and sticks his finger in his mouth to taste the frosting. "I did."

"Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower." He kisses your cheek, walking off towards the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at your brother's theatrics and finished up on your cake, frosting it and sticking it in the fridge for the time being.

By the time you finished tidying up and setting up the last of what was needed for dinner, it was a few minutes to 8 o'clock. Rodri finds his way back to the kitchen in slacks and a polo shirt.

"You're dressed up," you glance in his direction, setting the last glass into the dish rack. "We have company coming, I'm not gonna eat dinner in sweatpants, y/n."

You chuckled, remembering what you had told Jack earlier. "Okay whatever you say."

The doorbell rings, Rodri makes his way over to open it and let Jack in. The two of them made small talk in the entryway as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel. Upon finding the men, you realized both of them were far too dressed up for you to be in sweatpants.

"I see I'm undressed." You announced, making your presence known.

"Hi y/n," Jack smiles at you, handing the bottle of wine over to Rodri.

"Hi Jack," you smiled back at him, as if you hadn't seen him 40 minutes ago. "I'm going to go change, I'll meet you guys outside."

You left them to make their way outside while you attempted to pull together an outfit as quickly as possible. You pulled your hair out of the falling apart ponytail it was in and put on a sundress before making your way outside.

"Wine?" Rodri asks, after pouring some into Jack's glass. "Yeah, please." You smile at your brother, sitting in the chair that was on the left; between Jack and Rodri who were across from each other.

Dinner was quiet, the 3 of you chatting about life, football, the upcoming matches, your plans come the fall. Rodri lets you and Jack speak, it's like you had forgotten he was there altogether; it didn't take a scientist to see the chemistry between you two.

You and Jack were comfortable in each other's space, joking around like you had known each other for years, the type of thing you'd only see with a couple.

After dinner wrapped up, you cleared the table and brought the cake out. You cut three pieces, handing them over to the boys before sitting down and taking your own piece.

Rodri takes a bite, looking over at his teammate who does the same. "How is it?" He asks Jack.

The man nods, "good, it's great." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, taking a bite from your own piece.

Rodri nods, the fork in between his fingers as he points between you and Jack. "So.. how long has this been going on?"

You coughed, rubbing your chest after you almost choked on your cake. Jack on the other was completely pale, as if all the blood had drained from his body.

He starts, glancing between you and Rodri, unsure what to say. "Wh-uh.. what are you talking about?"

Rodri rolls his eyes, as if Jack thought he was stupid. He knew the two of you were seeing each other, it was painfully obvious. He had a suspicion and tonight's dinner was either going to make or break the thought. It just slapped a big old confirmed stamp on the two of you.

"I'm not blind, you know. I do pay attention, even when you think I'm not." Rodri says, looking over at you with an accusatory look on his face. You bite back a shy smile, lips pressed together as you look away from your older brother. "Plus, your bedroom is next to mine, y/n. Having him on speaker all night isn't exactly the slickest way of hiding a relationship."

You and Jack chuckled, looking at each other. "It's not that we didn't want to tell you-" "It was y/n's idea not to tell you." Jack butts in, throwing you under the bus so to speak.

"Shut up!" You groan, shaking your head. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," you glance in the direction of your boyfriend. "I just wanted to see where it goes, if I'd stay in Manchester or not."

"And are you?" Rodri asks.

You take a moment to think, nodding. "Yeah, I think I will be."

"Good," your brother reaches over, patting your hand. "Does he treat you well?"

You rolled your eyes at his cliché question but you nod. "He does."

Rodri turns his attention to Jack. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." He tells his teammate, earning a laugh from Jack but you look at your boyfriend. "No, he will and I'll let him."

"Oh..." Jack looks between the siblings, jaw hanging open a bit. "Okay then."

The rest of the evening was quiet, you two gave Rodri a few details from your relationship, how long you'd be together and a few other things like that before you took the cake back inside.

Jack had gone to the bathroom and your brother finds you cutting another slice of the cake, putting it into a Tupperware bowl in the kitchen. "What are you doing?" He looks at you, confused.

You return the look, "packing a piece of cake for Jack? There's more than enough, Rod. You can have more tomorrow." You chuckled, putting the bowl into a bag.

"I don't think your clothes are gonna fit in there," Rodri tells you, leaning on the counter. You look at your brother, confusion all over your face. "What are you talking about, dude?"

"Go pack your bag."

"Are you kicking me out? I thought you were cool with-" "No dummy, I'm telling you to go spend the night with your boyfriend."

"Oh!" You laughed, walking over to give your brother a hug. "You're really okay with me dating him?"

"Would he have been my first choice? No, I thought you'd date a doctor or something boring like that but as long as you're happy and he treats you well, I'm 100% behind it."

"Okay," you smiled, kissing his cheek before running off to your room.

Jack and Rodri were in the entryway, your bag tossed over your shoulder as you skipped down the hallway towards them. Jack reaches for your bag, taking it from you.

"Thanks man," Jack nods at his teammate, Rodri smiles at him. "Anytime, take care of her, yeah? Drive carefully please."

"I'm a fantastic driver," Jack says, and you and Rodri exchange a look before laughing. Jack rolls his eyes, already knowing what you two were thinking. You hugged your brother once more, saying goodnight to him before heading down the driveway with him.

Once you were in the car, Jack looked over at you with a cheeky smile on his face. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Shut up," you smiled, reaching over to hold his hand.

--

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[ghostchems]

I need something spooky, something dangerous.

Maybe Vampire Copia needs to feed and he forgets how to act normal? But in a *s e x y* way. 👀

I’m not sure this came out super sexy… let me know what you think tho haha.

“S-sister?” He calls for you, panic evident in his voice. His shoes click down the corridor until he’s caught up with you. “You’re not supposed to be wandering the corridors at night — hasn’t anyone told you that?”

“I’m so sorry, Cardinal. I didn’t know.” Now you’re panicked, unaware of the fact you were doing anything wrong and now a feeling of guilt washes over you. Cardinal Copia’s hand falls to your shoulder.

“Let me w-walk you back to your room, sorella. Make sure you get back safely.” The closer he is the more he seems off to you. He’s sweating. Make up is smudged and his collar is undone.

“Are you alright, Cardinal? You don’t look well.” Your voice is filled with concern unable to shake the state he's in. He forces a smile, but it does little to hide the unease in his eyes.

“You really should not be out here at this time of night.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “Is your room close?” You nod slowly, lips pressed into a thin line and point down the corridor. Copia squeezes you again and urges you forward in that direction. You steal a glance at him every so often and watch as he fidgets and his eyes dart around the . The hairs on the back of your neck raise, your throat growing thick as you swallow hard. Something’s not right with him.

“Here’s my room.” You whisper, fingers already on the knob before even saying goodnight. A nervous smile tugs at your lips as your gaze falls back to him. His face is shrouded in darkness, only his white eye visible. You hear his breath quicken and feet shuffle.

“Oh, sister please will you let me in?” Copia’s gloved hands claw at your habit as he pushes in so close to you, backing you up against the door. “It is dangerous out here.” He squeezes your arms, fingers indenting into your skin hard enough to leave bruises.

“Of course, Cardinal. P-please, come inside.” You don’t even give it a second thought because of who he is. He’s your Cardinal and the main reason why the Ministry has become so successful over the last year. You would do anything for him and it’s an honor for you to even be in his presence. But there’s still a tightness in your chest that you can’t shake.

“Grazie, dolcezza.” He coos as you open the door for him to your dark quarters.

You step inside, eyes still adjusting to the dimness when a hand grabs you by the throat and slams you into the wall.

“I could *smell* you from down the hall.” Snarling into your ear, fingers digging into your neck. You try to scream but he squeezes the air from your lungs. “Shhh, shh, little thing. Let me have my taste.” Fighting back against him proves fruitless, his grip on you like a vice while his body cages you against the wall. Low growls and breathless pants fill your ear. “Satan forgive me, I could not help myself.”

Your body lurches, blinding pain shooting through you as Copia’s fangs sink into your neck. A scream rips from your throat but he shoves his fingers into your mouth causing you to gag. Your limbs grow numb, the fight in you dying down until it’s withered away completely. Your vision begins to blur. The last thing you remember is him pressing down on your tongue, giving a choked whimper as his tongue laps at the deep wound on your neck.

Copia cradles your limp body in his arms.

***

Your eyes slowly blink open to the sun streaming into your room. Blankets are tangled around sore limbs. You try to sit up but pain shoot downs your back to the tips of your fingers. Body flops back onto the bed in defeat, giving a deep sigh. Then you remember last night. Your throat grows dry, arm twitching almost to reach for your neck. But you stop yourself.

It must have been a dream. Right?