#i haven’t written in three weeks <\3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[gothsuguru]

i made so much progress on “butchered tongue” i’m so happy AHHHHHHHHH :3 still a long way to go but i’m gonna pat myself on the back regardless <3

[redmeet]

how is your original fiction going?

[seoulmatez]

huehuehue having thots about library sex with dan heng. . . coming in under the guise that you’re just visiting him during his shift but convincing him to sneak off to the empty aisles for a little naughty rendezvous (,,>﹏<,,)

[2tcs]

Day 3: reunions after a long time and rain

“Hay Bruce?” Duke asked as he walked out of the locker room. It was the end of his shift, thank god, so everyone was getting ready for the night shift.

“What's going on chum?”

“My cousin is coming to Gotham for a senior field trip thing next week to visit Gotham U and I was wondering if he and his friends can stay at the manor so they don’t have to pay for a hotel.”

“We’ll have to run a background check on them” “Already done!” Duke interrupted Bruce and jumped around him to get to the batcomputer to open up the files.

“Hmm. You really want your cousin to visit huh.” Bruce said as he scanned through the files.

“Ya. I haven’t seen him in ages and even though we text it’s not the same as an in-person visit. And Gotham isn’t safe for tourists so, manor.”

“Mhm, Duke?”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Why are his and his friends' hometown labeled as unconfirmed?”

“Well, that may be one of the reasons I thought it would be a good idea for everyone to meet them? I know Tucker lives in Amity Park, Illinois. I’ve even visited him there when we were kids. But when I tried to look it up for the background check I couldn’t find it. It’s like it never existed. When I tried to ask him about it he kinda dodged my question and changed the subject. Like he was nervous about someone overhearing.”

“Alright. I’ll inform Tim about their hometown and see if he can find out what’s going on. Make sure you tell Alfried that we are having guests.”

“Thank you so much Bruce! I’ll go tell Alfried right now. Night!” Duke yelled as he ran to the elevator.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tucker! Over here!” Duke yelled as Tucker and his friends got off the bus.

“Duke! It’s good to see you! How have you been?” Tucker said as he ran up to Duke and gave him a side hug while using his free hand to point. “This is Danny and Sam. Danny, Sam. This is my cousin Duke.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Tucker’s told me a lot about you two.” Duke said as he accepted handshakes from Sam then Danny.

“It’s nice to meet you too Duke. Hopefully, Tucker has told you only the worst of things about us.” Sam joked.

“Of course. Hay, did you really switch out all the frogs in your freshman biology class with robot frogs?”

“Don’t remind me. Those things were so creepy. They talked to you as you cut them open.” Danny said with a disgusted face.

“It was more humane than dissecting living animals.” Sam defended herself.

“Wait. The frogs were alive? Tucker! Why was your school using living frogs instead of cadaver frogs?” Duke asked in shock.

“I got no clue man. Anyways, do we need to call a cab to get to your place? Cause I’m not walking in this downpour.” Tucker said while looking around.

“Hold on right there Mr Foley. You all need to sign these forms so we can get ahold of you in case of an emergency.” Mr Lancer said as he walked up to the group with several papers. “And I would also like to speak to your guardian before my students leave so I know they are in safe hands.”

“Ahem. I’m afraid Master Wayne is occupied with work right now but I am his butler, Alfred Pennyworth and I am in charge of taking care of all the needs of the Wayne family and their guests. If need be here is the main phone number for the manor as well as the address. Is there anything else I can do to ensure you of your students’ safety?” Alfred said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and handed Mr Lancer a business card with the aforementioned information written on the back.

“Thank you for this Mr Pennyworth. My name is Lenard Lancer. As the vice principal of Casper High School, I have a duty to the students of our school. So I will still need these three to fill out these forms before they leave.”

“Of course Mr Lancer. I fully understand. Now if you all would please finish with the paperwork, we can load into the car and get out of this dreadful weather.” Alfred said watching as Danny, Sam, and Tucker traded off on using each other's backs to fill out the forms and hand them back to Mr Lancer.

[mercurygguk]

head over skates · jjk ; part i.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.

so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,514

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing

a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!

“The project will be done in pairs of two–”

Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.

“–which have already been decided beforehand.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–

Oh, hell no.

The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.

When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.

Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.

As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.

Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were. 

While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless. 

And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.

It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.

Your friendship did end.

It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.

Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends. 

And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.

And guess what? He was damn good at it.

Ego overfed.

As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed. 

The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.

Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”

You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.

“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”

Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”

You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”

“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”

The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.

What a lucky bitch.

“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”

You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.

all rights reserved © mercurygguk · tumblr

[rimunagenius]

It Was Doomed From The Start

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 3.1k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , stalking, harassment, angst, self reflection (this topic scares me…don’t judge), fluff ofc bc it’s Kate

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: i know the title looks scary, but i promise, it’s nothing bad with Kate and reader. I wouldn’t write angst for them for this story not yet atleast I also wanted to introduce what Kate has reader under in her phone and i’ve also been thinking about adding one shots about how Kate and reader came up with the nicknames for eachother or little one shots of them before or during the events written about in the series (stuff that didn’t make it to the fic)…if i do they’ll be on the series masterlist but let me know if you’d like to see that!! anyways…here’s the long awaited part three!

Part 3

| Series Masterlist |

"C'mon, it's time to get up, sleeping beauty." There was no beauty in how you were currently knocked out in Kate's bed. Your hair is all over your face and pillow; with parts sticking up due to the lack of hairstyle before going to sleep.

You had your mouth slightly open, quietly breathing through it. You needed this sleep. You usually slept way more appealing but this—this was your well-needed catch up on weeks' worth of rest. "Y/n...y/n. C'mon. We have to get ready." Kate leaned over the bed, a hand on your hip, softly attempting to shake you awake. A string of muffled and incoherent curse words left your mouth as you pulled the comforter over your head.

Curling in on yourself to make yourself small and generate more heat. It was a pretty cold morning in Iowa City. "I don't wanna." You whined under the blanket. Eliciting a small giggle from the blonde, she crawled into the bed, almost spooning you before speaking to you softly.

"Well we have to, sunshine. We have classes, and if you still want to eat breakfast, I suggest you get up now." She flipped the comforter off your head, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. "C'mon, let's go." She gave your arm light taps before she then gripped it and started to pull you out of her bed.

"We should not have stayed up so late last night. It's your fault. I blame you.” You pointed in her face, your hair everywhere and eyes closed, preventing her from taking you seriously. “You kept doing that thing you do with your mouth." You mumbled as you now were standing right infront of your roommate, eyes looking up at her, your mascara under your eyes.

"Sorry I was having a good time. From what I remember you didn't want me to stop." She looked at you, wiping some of the mascara fall out away, giving you a bright smile before walking you towards the bathroom.

"Kate, we were drinking and you know that trick is only funny when we're both under the influence. If you would've stopped messing around, we could've finished both movies at a decent hour. I literally fell asleep in your bed and halfway through the movie." You say as you look at her through the mirror, narrowing your eyes before cleaning your mascara and whatever makeup you had on.

She raised her arms in defense, "I mean, what can I say? I'm the life of the party, baby." She said before placing herself on the counter. "Oh, and I already made waffles and yours are on the counter." She sat and watched your do your whole routine, her legs swinging a little every now and then.

"Yes?" You looked at her as you placed a refreshed coat of mascara on your lashes. You could see her staring. She's been doing that a lot lately. It made you feel warm inside and you wouldn’t lie and say you haven’t been doing it more recently also.

"Nothing. Just watching you." She smiled softly as she watched you do your makeup. A small blush casting over both your cheeks. You both knew what it was.

"Okay, creep." You side eyed her before giving her your best smile, just to prove you were being playful.

"Haha. Funny." Kate mocked you, lightly kicking her foot against the side of your thigh.

"Kate? Can you do me a favor?" You looked at your best friend, her blue eyes immediately meeting yours. She nodded her head quickly, eyes trained in yours immediately trying to read your face for anything wrong.

"Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?" She picked up on your nervous look. You sighed, looking down.

"Nick’s still weirding me out, so I wanted to know if you could walk back here to come get me after your class and take me to my next one? I just don't want to be on campus alone with him being around." You looked nervous, almost as if you had a feeling she'd say no. Of course Kate didn't, though. You still haven’t told her about not even going to report him in the first place.

"Yeah, for sure. I can do that. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"Yeah. Okay, thank you. It's just for this class and my next two and then Hannah can take me to practice later." You watched Kate's face soften.

"Y/n, you know i'd take you to every class. It's not an inconvenience. Whatever you need, I got you." She hugged you before saying a small goodbye and watched you walk inside your class while she waited outside.

You went inside and sat down, your phone pinging with a new message.

bear <3

be safe, ily.❤️

sunshine☀️💕

ilym😘

'bear <3 loved "ilym😘"' 

The class went smoothly, you walked outside to see Kate standing, waiting for you. She must have left class sooner to be here on time to not make you wait. God, you were so grateful for this girl.

She walked you to every class before you had anatomy. So far, Nick hasn't spotted you, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. You didn’t want to put it past him to find you, but for right now, you were taking the win. As you finally made it to anatomy, Juliana had been waiting outside.

You and Kate had been laughing about something she said when you looked over and saw Juliana watching you both, a smile on her face. "Oh, Kate. This is my friend Juliana, the one who's helping me with the girlfriend thing." You introduced your two friends, them shaking one another's hands.

"Hi, I'm Kate. Nice to meet you." Kate greeted, a friendly smile on her face.

"Oh, I know who your are. Y/n has said so many great things about you. You're almost all she talks about in here." Your face immediately grew red. You hadn't realized you talked about Kate so much. Did you really?

Kate looked down at you and smiled. A small blush rising to her cheeks. "Does she now?" She asked teasingly.

"Yeah, she's always going on about how such a great friend you are. How good you are to her. Makes me jealous." She jokingly added, before chatting Kate up some more. You didn't know what it was but something about Juliana being overly excited about talking to Kate, Kate being engaged in the conversation, was something that made a pit grow in your stomach.

You had no idea why two of your friends talking gave you a sense of jealously. It was frankly ridiculous. Shaking the totally absurd assumptions of this otherwise normal interaction out of your head, you looked down at your phone. A new notification from a random account on instagram.

The picture less profile, what seemed to be a randomly generated username had sent you a message. Clicking the message, you immediately felt a ball in your throat form. Suddenly your knees felt like they would give up and the world would swallow you whole from right where you were standing.

maybe you should make her leave…

this won’t be good for you.

she’s not good for you.

make her leave.

it won’t be good for her either.

You looked around, trying to find who had sent it. They had to have been talking about Kate. You knew who it was, just thing to find him to justify that you weren’t absolutely going crazy and imagining this whole thing.

“Hey, you okay?” Kate looked at you, her eyes scanning every inch of your flushed face, her worry growing by the second.

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I’m just going to walk into class.” You swalllowed before you looked around once more, suddenly seeing him. Lurking at a nearby a table, hat on, just staring right at you. He was sitting a healthy distance away, but watching your every move. Watching Kate. You couldn’t take this.

You hadn’t realized you had been staring, Kate followed your stare and saw him too. Juliana wrapping her arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head. You instantly regretted not being able to sell that you were unbothered, due to Kate starting to walk over to Nick.

“Kate! Don’t. I don’t need you talking to him.” You grabbed her arm, and pleaded with her.

“He’s obviously making you very uncomfortable. I thought you told someone about him already. What did he even say?” You did not have the heart to tell her that you let this man harass you for weeks just because you didn’t want to have any conflict. It wasn’t the best decision but it saved a lot of people trouble and you didn’t want to be inconvenience with this stupid thing. You could handle it. You could handle him.

“Kate, I was going to I swear. But I just forgot. You going up to him and telling him off isn’t going to make it better. Trust me. I do not want him to harass or hurt you too. ” You were getting super overwhelmed. Your eyes burning, your vision going blurry, eyes watering.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Juliana said, rubbing her arms up and down your arms. She didn’t have the first clue of what to do other than report this. She just didn’t want to do it without your permission. It was wrong, but it wasn’t her place.

“Hey, can you give us a moment?” Kate asked her. Juliana nodded and walked inside the class but not without staring Nick down before doing so.

“Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to get all riled up over this. But you do need to tell someone, baby.” Her face dropped and immediately started turning red. She should’ve caught herself. It just slipped. You hadn’t noticed because you were avoiding looking anywhere and seeing him.

You hadn’t picked up on the name. Trying to focus on what she was actually saying instead of thinking of all the ways Nick could harm Kate. What did he mean by ‘it won’t be good for her either’ ? All you could think about was her safety.

“I’m sorry, what?” You looked up at Kate, your brows furrowing. Suddenly feeling the biggest migraine come on.

Kate’s face relaxed, sighing before grabbing your face. “I was just saying that we should go report him, and i’ll take you home. I’ll tell coach we caught something and don’t want to get the team sick. We—I just need to get you out of here. Okay? Can you do that for me?” Her eyes stared into yours, wordlessly pleading with you to choose your safety over thinking you’re a burden to someone else.

You nodded, looking behind her to see that Nick had left. He was gone. That’s when you felt a hand grab yours, fingers interlocking. Kate. Immediately you felt more relaxed, more safe. At home. No one could hurt you when you were with the people you loved and cared for. Who cared for you. The team, your friends, were your home. Kate was your home. Your anchor.

Nothing could hurt you, and you were going to do it together. Sending a quick text to Juliana, letting her know the situation, you and Kate started walking to the deans office. Kate sat with you, held your hand, and made sure you were comfortable while telling the dean everything Nick had done to you and said he’d do over the course of the two and a half years you had been here.

It was extensive. It started off so small that you didn’t notice that he slowly integrated into your life. He was obsessed with you. Stalking you. You didn’t realize until it was too late—til it got bad. You and Kate had found out he was a transfer, changing his whole major and career plan to follow yours. He had been to 6 different universities in the last 3 years due to ‘personal’ issues.

Turns out every formal complaint had been waived and disproven. You weren’t the only woman he’s done this to. It was crazy to think that of the many women, the countless evidence of severe mental disorders and psychotic behavior and harassment, he was still allowed into many other universities, was able to appeal the accusations and allowed to leave it behind him.

Kate was in better words, fuming. Her and the dean had gone at it, you trying to mediate before the dean resulted to benching her for her last season. You guys had been in the deans office for about 2 hours. Leaving just in time to send a text to Coach Bluder that you’d both be in absence at practice today.

You two had been walking, still hand in hand, back to your guys’ apartment. “Kate are you sure you want to miss practice today?” You looked at her, eyes still a little bloodshot from the crying you had done. “I can totally just go home alone and say I just didn’t feel good. I’m not on the team, you are.” She still looked upset and very irritated at the situation. She hasn’t said much since you both left. The second you spoke, her face softened. You tended to do that a lot; you changed her mood. Her mood affects yours and yours hers. And only you two could fix it for the other.

“And leave you alone? On campus where a crazy guy is stalking you and making you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? No way. I’d miss as many practices as you needed me to.” She smiled at you, squeezing your hand, before letting it go, and settling for wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“Thank you, Kate. Seriously. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You leaned your head on her, arriving at your apartment.

“Of course. Anything for my favorite girl.” She kissed the top of your head, smiling to herself. She was grateful to have you in her life, she needed you just as much, probably more, than you needed her.

You both helped and healed things in eachother more over the last two and a half years of knowing eachother than anyone had for you both in your guys’ entire lives. “You didn’t do anything to deserve me, you know? Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you. Someone as kind, beautiful, smart, loving, caring, and gorgeous as you. Oh, did i mention you were pretty?” Kate laughed, her cheeks growing pinker by the second.

“Okay, Kate.” You laughed as she unlocked the front door, letting you walk in first. “Thank you. I appreciate you, and I feel the absolute same about you. Any girl who gets you, is the luckiest girl alive.” You smiled at her as you sat the on the couch, her in the kitchen grabbing you both water.

She smiled at you, before you turned to turn the TV on. When you looked away, her smile faltered. You looked at the tv, thinking about what she said. What you had said. You both cared for eachother so deeply. You couldn’t possibly be catching feelings for Kate. Was what you said too obvious…? You had known her for a long time, she was your best friend. That could ruin everything.

Could it? I mean, Kate thought about it over and over, watching your from the kitchen. The way your lips curled slightly when you watched the same reruns of your favorite shows. The way you always sat in the same spot on the couch, next to hers, leaving the perfect amount of room for her but also not enough so that you guys would be touching.

It was hard for the both of you to think this way about the person you have shared a space with for so long. Your roommate. Your best friend. You both needed to figure this out. But it was hard. You couldn’t possibly harbour feelings for the one person you both told yourself not to when this arrangement came to be.

Maybe that should’ve been the first sign. The sign that this living situation was doomed from the moment it was thought into existence; it was doomed from the start. How could you possibly set that boundary, silently in your guys’ head, that you guys couldn’t catch feelings. It would only have meant that you both could’ve seen this coming. I mean, neither one of you turned a blind eye to the other being attractive. Let alone, being eachothers type.

Kate brought you both the waters. Setting them down on the coffee table infront of you. Sitting down in her spot, next to you. You leaned your head on her shoulder almost instantly. Whether you had feelings for her or not, the comfort Kate had brought you was something you couldn’t describe. The need to have the feeling of Kate next to you seemingly growing worse with the feelings.

The familiarity was something you haven’t known since back home. So you essentially chased the feeling whenever you could have it. “Thank you for being there for me, Kate. I mean, truly. I already said it, but thank you.” Snuggling a little closer, bring one knee to your chest.

“Anytime, you know that. I’d do anything for you,” Her voice grew quieter at the end of her sentence. She meant it. “Besides, you’d be completely lost without me, sunshine. You need me.” She smiled when you landed a soft playful smack across her chest. She reached her arm over your shoulders, making you more comfortable.

“You’re right, I do.” You laughed before turning your attention to the TV. You both watched TV the rest of the night, deciding that you’d worry about the Nick thing more tomorrow. The dean telling you that it’d be handled very soon and quickly as possible. So, it was tomorrows problem.

As you both watched TV, you both thought over the fact you may be inlove with your best friend. It may be real and you’d both have to find a way to either move on or deal with it.

And fast.

[hwallazia]

LOVE LANGUAGE – 정우영 & 최산

synopsis . in which after a long, tiring day at work, all you want to do is come home to your boyfriends and cuddle with them. of course they fulfill your wish, but with something more. a little surprise for you.

pairing . jung wooyoung & choi san & fem! reader

genre . smut but the fluffiest (still, mdni!), slice of life, comfort, polyamorous relationship, non idol!au.

word count . 2,8k

DISCLAIMER! softest doms! woosan (like fr they’re devoted to yn), sub! reader, fingering, begging, sooo much praise, dirty talk, suggestive language, nicknames (baby, princess, darling, good girl, & more), sweetest touches, just the three of them being stupidly in love and woosan being the best boyfriends ever <3

NIC’S NOTES i know all the smut one shots or drabbles i’ve written have the same tags. it’s just that i can’t bring myself to write idk something more hardcore? ㅠㅅㅠ i just write whatever comes to my head but with my preferences, which is vanilla sex essentially with a looot of nicknames and praise. next time i’ll try to do something a bit rougher and more passionate. ♡

You’re having a hard day.

You’ve already lost count of how long your boss has been talking to you, reminding you how much he hates mistakes in a company like his. His eyebrows furrowed together as a sign of frustration. You’ve honestly forgotten what you had originally started talking about. The more the man continued speaking, the more entangled you became with his words. After being scolded by your superior, you sit down in your desk chair and take a sip of your already lukewarm coffee. A gesture of disgust curves your lips

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. It’s too much to bear for it being eight-thirty in the morning, you repeatedly think about how much you want to yell at your boss to fuck off. He’s had you like this for weeks, busy with projects that don’t even concern you, but rather the other team his stepdaughter is on.

Of course, he wouldn’t make her work like he makes you work. Baggy eyes? In her lover’s daughter's eyes? Over his dead body. Your blood boiled every time you scanned her carefully every time she entered a room, almost always surrounded by three girls who followed her like fans, more like stalkers you think, smiling as if she was a celebrity, while you were trapped at your desk, doing her job.

You remember that time when you deigned to complain to your boss about this situation. “You get paid to work, not to complain. Go back to your desk” were the only words he said to you. Choking with all your strength the desire to suffocate him with your own hands, you replied with a “Yes, sir” with your hurt pride held high.

At some point in the morning, Miss Everybody-loves-me walks by your desk, her finger pressing to the surface of it as it runs over it, collecting dust particles from her fingertips. In her other hand resting her Starbucks drink.

“New project?” She says, showing a row of white, perfectly arranged teeth.

You shake your head, “It's the same one from the other day,” You reply, “Yesterday.” A tone of annoyance highlighted in your voice.

She nods repeatedly as if she understands you, as if she is being empathetic with you. Hypocrite. “My bad. I really thought you’d have it ready by today. You know, because the executive meeting is tomorrow and—.”

“Yes,” You say loudly. Of course you already know that you have to have it ready for tomorrow, it’s for that same reason that you haven’t been sleeping properly the last few days. Because you’re busy doing the work of the bitch who was in front of you, talking to you, “Yes, yes. I already know that piece of information. Thank you.”

“Just stopping by to remind you.” A giggle slips past her lips, the desire to want to smack her growing bigger and bigger, “Keep up the good work! Bye.”

She presses her longest fingers against her lips and then peels them away, sending you a flying kiss. You’re grateful she left, you can’t hold back the urge to finally shut her up with a good smack on that stupid smile of hers. A low “shit” escapes your lips as you watch her turn around and face your desk again, still not leaving you alone. “Oh, by the way. I hope you liked the coffee. Before I left my place, I saw that there was still that cup of coffee that I hadn't finished a few days ago. Four days have passed? I don’t know, nor do I remember. Anyway, bye.”

You finally watch as her anatomy disappears as she walks further. You turn and bitterly scan the coffee mug resting on a small oak table not too far from you. Your fingers hold the mug’s handle and throw it right into the trash. You want to scream at this exact moment, and the only way you find to relieve your miserable morning anger a little is to scream into the sleeve of your blazer.

The morning passes with difficulty and you smile for the first time today when you take a quick look at your watch and realize there are only two minutes left until you finish your workday. You had successfully completed the project and its presentation for the meeting you have the next day. At least your day was productive—after all.

Those are the longest two minutes of your life, but when they are finally over, you almost run towards the exit of the large building in which you’ve spent almost eleven hours of your day locked up.

In the blink of an eye, you’re already parking your car in the garage of the apartment where you live with your other two boyfriends. You know they were already home, probably cooking, watching a movie, or playing. As usual.

In about five minutes you’re already inserting your key, the sound of the locks and their mechanism working correctly to unlock the door being the only thing you could hear. Once the door is wide open, you cross the threshold and kick off your heels which have trapped your feet from a long day at work. You feel like you’re floating when you finally touch the warm floor of your apartment, and you trudge to your room, finding San leaning against the bed’s headboard, smiling at finally seeing you after a long day. A book resting on his right palm and his glasses decorating his beautiful face. The sigh that leaves your lips is inevitable. A soft smile is placed on your lips.

“Sannie.” You murmur, your arms outstretched for him to wrap you in a hug as you walk towards him.

“My love,” he crawls to the edge of the bed where he reciprocates your hug.

Your cheek resting against his flat chest, his hand gently caressing your hair. Through your nostrils, you can perceive the combination of that lavender shampoo you bought him a few months ago and soap. He smells so good, you thought to yourself. Him cooing at you like you were a baby is an image you want to keep in your head forever. You swear you can give into his arms as the tiredness starts affecting you.

You manage to hear the sound of a door opening. Then you turn round and find your other lover, Wooyoung, his hand drying his damp hair with the help of a small towel. However, you can’t see him, because your eyes have closed involuntarily while you enjoyed San's loving hug.

His eyes shine when he sees your figure. “There’s my girl.” He approaches you and San. His lips make contact with your other cheek.

Finally separating from San, they can ask you how your day was.

You sigh to look them in the eyes. “Terrible. Everything was so overwhelming today.” You pause, “Too much paperwork, too much.” You repeat it a second time, this time even more exhausted.

“Mm,” San murmurs, “Do you want to talk about that?”

“Not really. I just want—”

Wooyoung interrupts you to say, “Did that bitch have anything to do with it?” He says referring to Bora.

A loud gasp leaves your lips as you remember that she’s also been part of your day, “You have no idea what she did to me today,” You tell him what happened with your coffee. A soft giggle comes from San, the same person you just denied wanting to talk about your day.

“That bitch. How dare she?” San lets out an annoyed ‘mhm’ when he hears him speak. Your chivalrous San never uses that kind of insult to refer to women. He never actually insults women, “What? She deserves it. Look what she did to your girl today!”

“Our.” You correct him, a smile decorating his lips as he hears you say that.

“Yes, that. Ours.” You cup his chin and pull him to your lips to place a kiss on his cheek. His smile growing even bigger as San shakes his head at him.

A sigh leaves your lips, “To be honest, I just want to take a bath in the tub.”

“With bubbles?”

“And massages?” San adds after Wooyoung.

You can’t contain your smile, your boys’ hearts melting at the sight of you, “You guys want to bathe me? Really?”

“As if we haven’t seen you naked already,” Wooyoung speaks, your palm crashing against his side in a poor attempt to hide your embarrassment.

Your boyfriends guide you to their spacious bathroom. San heading to the bathtub while Wooyoung rummages through the drawers, looking for the bubbles he mentioned to you a few minutes ago. Your body collapses in slow motion against the cold porcelain of the tub, San holding you securely in his arms like a baby.

“You’re home now. You don’t have to worry about anything else, okay?” He places a quick kiss on your forehead, “Let us take care of the rest.”

Tiredness barely allows you to give him one of those smiles that your boyfriend falls in love with so much, “Found ’em!” You turn to meet Wooyoung with a victorious smile on his lips.

It takes several minutes for the tub to fill almost completely. When it does, Wooyoung undresses in a flash and climbs into the bathtub, keeping you company. San was still sitting behind you on the wide edge, his hands working your scalp so you don’t even have to worry about washing your hair.

You hum under his touch, your body gradually relaxing. Meanwhile, Wooyoung starts putting bath bombs of your favorite scents. The delicious aroma of vanilla and coconut invading your senses.

You feel San’s laborious hands leave your hair and subtly dry it with a towel. Now his hands move down to focus on your shoulders, his fingers exerting gentle pressure against your skin. Again, you hum as you felt him work that area.

“We know how hard you work every day. And how hard you try, and we love you so much for that.” You’ve already lost count of how many kisses San has pressed against your forehead, “That’s why we want to take care of you,” He paused briefly, “Tonight and always.”

A genuine smile forms on your lips. You really had no idea what you’d done to deserve two great boyfriends, so caring and affectionate. Your love for them can’t be described in words and neither can theirs for you. You melt after hearing their words, only being able to utter a soft ‘thank you’, hoping they understand that that ‘thank you’ was much more than the meaning of the word itself.

Wooyoung’s hand brushing against your skin as it goes down is what takes you away from the sweet words of the man behind you, his eyes never disconnecting from your gaze. You finally understand the way your boyfriends want to pamper you. And you’re not against their intentions at all.

“Just relax, my love.” Wooyoung whispers, “I’ll make you feel so good.”

Heat flushes through you as he drags his hand even lower, your legs unconsciously opening a little more, your cheeks turning a cute red. You hum when his fingers caress your folds softly, leaning your head against San’s forearm.

“Young-ah,” His name is nothing more than a simple breath of air in the silent bathroom, “Please.”

“What is it, princess?” San’s low voice resonates inside your ears, “Tell us what you want.”

“P-please,” You beg, “Touch me.”

“I am touching you, love.”

You let out a minimal desperate pant. “Come on. Don’t tease, Woo”

“I’m not teasing, babe. I’m just doing want you’re telling me to do, aren’t I?” He scoffs. Your hips slightly rocking against his hand looking for some friction.

You let out a long sigh and with that your last trace of bashfulness, “Please. Put your fingers inside me, Woo. Please.” You give him your best doe-eyes, you know it worked when he emits a 'fuck' under his breath. 

Wooyoung dips his middle finger into your heat, the sound of your stickiness being drowned out by the warm water, how wet your cunt is being a secret between your boyfriend and his fingers. Thanks to the habit of doing this almost every week, he now knows where to touch, when to increase his pace, and above all, how to drive you crazy with just his long phalanges.

You don’t know when your eyes closed, but you know it was because of the satisfaction that was overtaking you. You unconsciously raise your hips in an attempt to get his fingers even deeper into you. 

For a moment you think San was enjoying the view in front of him with fierce eyes, hungry for you. You imagine him lightly pumping his cock behind you, a sight for sore eyes.

That is until you feel a pair of hands rest on your breasts, skilled fingers touching your nipples, varying in a pattern of touching and pinching them.

“I’m—” You can’t even formulate a coherent word, everything just being overwhelming in a good way, a very good way. 

Wooyoung hits the soft, right spot and you tremble beneath him, your back arching beautifully. Your lips vocalize a precious moan, “Wooyoung, baby. Don't stop.”

“Fuck, your moans are so pretty,” San says as he reclines and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, leaving cute lovebites that will surely turn purple by tomorrow morning. You’ll have to take care of that, but later. Right now you’re trying to hold onto the last piece of sanity you have left.

“Definitely our favorite sound,” Wooyoung replies, his fingers pumping into you faster, “Are you close, my love? Gonna cum on my fingers?”

His husky voice just pushes you even closer to the edge, “Yes, yes!” San sucks sharply in the right place as you cum. A long moan leaves your lips as you tremble beneath Wooyoung, him helping you ride your orgasm the best way possible.

Your eyes shut the moment you come. A few seconds later, you feel movement in the waters, as if someone has left and entered again. You think it’s Wooyoung, who came out to get a towel and dry you off, but when you feel a hand, different from the one that had been touching you until a few seconds ago, caressing your inner thighs you open your eyes meeting San’s.

“Hi, beautiful.” He admires your blissed-out expression for a moment, “Can you give us another one?”

You whimper, trying to hold yourself together, “I-I don’t know, Sannie,” You try to say “no” since you’re still sensitive and kind of overstimulated, but you just don’t want to admit it. Somehow you turn to your shy self again. It only lasts a few seconds though. His fingers make their way into your arousal and a hot, loud moan escapes from your lips.

He starts pumping his fingers into you at a fast pace, barely bearable for you. His movements cause you pleasure and pain at the same time, after all, you haven’t fully recovered from your previous orgasm and your boyfriend is already pushing you toward the abyss of pleasure again.

“Oh, princess,” He murmurs with the sweetest voice, “You’re being such a good girl for us.”

Wooyoung now is occupying the sit San was in, behind you. He reclines and murmurs right into your ear, “Come for us, darling. Just let it go. We’ve got you.” His voice is so unrecognizable, so fucking deep.

Your visual field begins to be covered by small black dots that get bigger and smaller, overstimulation causing this effect. Your body trembles in a sudden rush of heat, finally releasing into the now lukewarm water with a loud, long moan that sounds more like a cry. The small tears caused by pleasure slide beautifully down your cheek, dripping down your chin and mingling in the water. Your body feeling as if a fresh wave of water has washed over it.

“Mm,” San starts, “The only bad thing about doing this in the tub is that I can’t taste you, but honestly seeing your face as you come undone for us is more than enough.” He presses a kiss against your slightly open lips. Your blissed-out gaze making them fall even more in love with you.

“I... I love you both, so much. Thank you for doing this for me.”

“You deserve to be loved and pampered for everything you do for yourself and us every day. You’re amazing and we’re so proud of you.” Wooyoung mentions.

If you had the strength to cry right now, you would. However, sleep is taking you over so you can only mutter, “You both mean everything to me.”

You really have no idea when you fell asleep, but it’s okay. You know perfectly well that your boyfriends are going to set everything up and snuggle you in bed.

Wooyoung watches as San sees you with all the tenderness in the world. He was about to tease him saying that he was going to scare you if he kept looking at you so intensely, when he heard a cute, low snore.

“Did she fall asleep?” Wooyoung asks.

“Like an angel.” San replies, still admiring you.

“Well, let’s get her into a pair of pijamas so we can cuddle with her in bed.”

They both dry themselves off before taking you out of the tub. Seeing you so adorable and soundly asleep makes them share one of those looks of theirs. 

Yes, they have a big, painful boner with no relief, but tonight was all about you, so they decided to put their needs aside and focus on you and making you feel good, loved and important. Because you are, because they’re willing to give their lives for you if they had to. 

Because you’re their everything and they love you more than the word itself could mean. 

| masterlist

[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…

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오랜만입니다. 얼마 전 11주년이었는데 정신없다는 핑계로 짧은 글 하나도 못 남겼네요. 허허허 한 달 전에 컴백투미, 3주 전에 RPWP가 나왔죠. 작년 4월에 호석이와 함께 입대하려던 계획을 미루고 미루다 동생들과 손잡고 나란히 들어가게 되었죠. 23년은 그렇게 술과 작업으로만 보냈던 것 같아요. 친구의 병장 약장이 부럽지만.. 그래도 후회는 없답니다. (ㅎㅎ;) 제가 이런저런 소회를 직접 들려드리지 못한 첫 작업물이네요. 하고싶은 말들이 많지만 앨범에 모두 적혀있으므로.. 그저 오롯이 저 스스로 솔직하고자 발버둥친 앨범입니다. 오래오래 두고두고 읽어주시면 좋겠어요. 부디 3일 전에 진 형이 드디어 전역을 했죠. 저 재밌자고 색소폰도 가져와서 불었지만 실은 만감이 교차했습니다. 먼저 가서 많이 외롭고 힘들지 않았을까.. 어땠을까. 1년 6개월은 여기 누구에게나 공평하니까요. 저희는 지금 형의 과거를 살고 있는 중이겠지요. 오랜만에 나와보니 역시 바깥의 시간은 다르게 흐르는군요. 중력도 다르게 느껴지고.. 다들 내 부재와는 상관없이 잘 살아가고 있구나. 잘 흘러가고 있구나. 다소 헛헛한 기분도 들지만, 무엇보다 정말 오랜만에 멤버들이 모두 모여 한 잔 하며 허심탄회한 얘기들을 나눌 수 있어 좋았답니다(군대 얘기가 절반 이상이었지만..ㅋㅋ). 무려 근 열 달 만인 것 같아요. 왜이리 이 사람들이 보고싶었는지.. 저도 종종 전화해서 다짜고짜 안부나 묻곤 했었어요. 진 형이 늘 얘기하곤 했었어요. 멤버들 엄청 보고싶다고. 너희도 그럴 거라고. 뿔뿔이 흩어져 강원도 어딘가에 살아보니 사무치게 이해가 돼버려요. 막상 얼굴 보고 얘기하니 그래도 변하지 않는 것들, 내가 돌아와야 할 곳, 내가 어떤 사람이었는지도 다시 깨닫게 되고.. 우리 모두에게 의미있는 소중한 시간이었어요. 또 어디쯤 헤매고 있을까요? 내년 12주년에는 다들 어떤 얼굴을 하고 있을까요 그리워서 그리고 그려서 그리워요. 벌써 열 한 해입니다. 또 한 해를 손꼽는 일일 뿐이겠지요. 먼저 여러분의 품에 안긴, 안길 진 형과 홉이에게 뒷일을 부탁합니다. 아직 많은 분들이 저희를 잊지 않고 기다려주고 사랑해주신다는 것만 깨닫고 가요. 쏟아지는 사랑. 늘 그랬듯 그저 멤버들 여러분 생각하며 또 하루하루 잘 지내볼게요 사랑합니다. 고맙습니다 다음 초여름을 기약하며 남준

Hello, It’s been a while.

It was our 11th anniversary a while ago but, using the excuse that things have been really hectic, I wasn’t able to write even a small post. Hahaha

Come Back To Me came out a month ago, and 3 weeks ago, so did RPWP. Last year, after pushing and postponing my plans of enlisting with Hoseokie in April, I held hands with the younger members and we headed in together. And so 2023 went by, spent entirely with alcohol and work. I am jealous of my buddy’s sergeant patch but well.. I have no regrets. (hehe;)

I think this is the first time I’ve released something and not been able to talk about things directly with you. I have a lot to say but it’s all been written into the album so.. the album is purely the product of my fight with myself to become more honest. I hope that you keep reading it, over and over, for a long long time. It is a sincere, heartfelt wish.

Three days ago, Jin hyung was finally discharged. I brought along my saxophone and played it to be funny but honestly, I had a lot of complicated emotions running through me. Being the first to go was probably really lonely and difficult.. What was it like? That one year and six months treats everyone here equally. Now, we are probably living hyung’s past.

Out in the world for the first time in a while, I realised that time outside really does flow differently. Gravity feels different too.. everyone’s been living their lives regardless of my absence, doing well, flowing along nicely. I felt a little empty but, more than anything else, it felt great to get together with the members after a really long time and have a heart-to-heart over drinks (though more than half the conversation consisted of military stories.. haha). It had been nearly 10 whole months since we did something like this. Why did I miss these guys so much.. I did call them sometimes, randomly, asking them how they were doing.

Jin hyung did always tell us that he missed the other members a lot, that we were going to feel the same. Now scattered apart, living somewhere in Gangwondo, I understand it, it resonates so deeply. Actually talking face-to-face, I was reminded of the things that remain unchanging, the place that I have to return to, the person that I was.. it was a meaningful, precious time for all of us.

Where else will we be wandering? What expressions will we wear on our faces next year, on our twelfth anniversary? Missing you makes me picture you, and by picturing you I miss you more. We’re already in our eleventh year. All we have to do is just count one more. I entrust the future to Jin hyung and Hobi, who have been and will be the first to be embraced in your arms.

I’m taking back with me the realisation that there are still lots of people who haven’t forgotten about us, who are waiting for us. An outpouring of love. As always, I’ll try doing fine, day by day, thinking of you guys and the members

I love you. Thank you Until early summer next year, Namjoon

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 3: Getting a Pet

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Finding a pet/Getting a pet (it was originally finding a pet, but I changed things up a bit)

Summary: You think it's time for you and Matt to get a cat.

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship. Cats. Mentions of future children.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is solely based on me wanting a cat. I did have a different version of this already written, decided I didn't like it, and whipped this up in, like, two hours today. I hope you're not mad at me, but the first draft really wasn't it, so I decided to interpret the prompt differently/change it.

Read Me On AO3!

It’s been three years since Matt Murdock stumbled into your life, broken and bruised. A normal person would have run if they had seen The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knock at their window, but not you. You invited him in and fixed him to the best of your abilities. 

Three years ago, you met the man you fell head over heels in love with. The man who broke your heart then put it back together. The man who once believed he would never love again, that he didn’t deserve it, finally allowed himself to find some peace in your arms. Comfort. Love. 

You moved in together two years ago, and you haven’t looked back since. In fact, you only seem to be moving forward. 

Since he’s been with you, he has been using you as an excuse to Foggy and Karen for why he doesn’t need a dog. He thought he would never have to worry about getting a pet ever again. Until a week ago. 

You were sitting on the couch, head resting on his chest to listen to the steady beating of his heart, when you suddenly blurted out, “I think we should get a cat.”

Suddenly, Matt didn’t have to worry about telling people why he didn’t need a dog anymore, but he had to face you, the love of his life, and talk to you about getting a cat. 

Up to that point, you hadn’t often seen him too stunned to speak, and the times you had, he was facing a greater evil—a greater evil than a cat. 

“What?” you remember him asking.

You nodded against his chest. “Dead serious,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. You had that determined look on your face, the one that always made Matt’s defenses crumble like wet paper. He could feel it as he brushed his fingers over your soft skin, trying to gauge what you were thinking. 

“I’ve always wanted one,” you continued your reasoning, “and I think we’re ready. You know… for a fur baby.”

Because the idea of a baby was and still is very far in the future.

Matt could feel the excitement radiating off of you that night, and though he had never imagined himself as a cat person, there was no denying he was wrapped around your finger. “You really want a cat?” he asked. 

“I do,” you answered, with an almost childlike excitement.

“I just… are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s a cat,” he emphasized.

“Your point being?”

“They’re… stealthy. And needy, sometimes.” That was the only argument he could come up with. 

You snorted at that. “So, they’re you,” you said, “just… smaller.”

Matt opened his mouth, closing it just as fast. You got him, fair and square. “Alright, I can respect that,” he said.

It was so serious to you that you sat up straighter to look at him. “Of course you would. Think about it. They’re independent, low-maintenance, and they purr. Plus, Foggy and Karen will forever shut up about you getting a guide dog ‘cause we’ll already have a cat,” you said.

He couldn’t possibly argue with that logic. But deep down, he knew. He knew the moment you brought a cat home, he’d be doomed. But he couldn’t say no to you.

“Okay, fine,” he caved, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Let’s get a cat.”

Fast forward a week, and you have dragged him to one of New York’s animal shelters to find a cat. Fall has fully settled over the city, the air crisp with a slight chill, and the streets lined with leaves of red, orange, and yellow. Matt’s hand is intertwined with yours as you step inside, and though he tries his best to act casual, you can feel the subtle tension in him. The smell of hay and litter toy with his heightened senses. It’s a lot all at once, but he promised that for you, he would do anything. 

This is a decision you will have to make together. So, he forces a smile when you look at him with that worried crease between your brows, and he tells you it’s okay. He’s got this. You choose to believe him. 

“This is exciting,” you murmur as a volunteer leads you through to the room where the cats are held. “We’re getting a cat!” You want to jump up and down and screech like a banshee, that’s how happy you are he said yes, even though you know he did it more for you than for himself, but if you start acting crazy now, they might never let you leave. 

“I like to say, ‘let the cat choose you’,” the volunteer says once you have reached your destination. “So, please, take your time. Also,” she turns around again, toward Matt, “if one of them tries to nibble on your cane, just tell them no.”

You swallow a giggle that threatens to escape. “Thanks,” you smile at her as she leaves, leaving you alone in a room full of… well, cats. 

You have never been closer to heaven. 

“I don’t want anyone nibbling on my cane,” Matt mutters beside you.

You shake your head, laughing. “Relax. They’re just cats.”

Cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors lounge around the room, some curled up in cozy beds, others batting lazily at toys hanging from strings. You take note of the numerous cat trees, some attached to the wall. It looks like a feline paradise. 

A few cats are eyeing you already, but most of them seem rather unimpressed. They must get a lot of potential new parents every day. 

Matt can feel your pulse quicken as you take a few steps forward, letting go of his hand to crouch down near one of the more adventurous kittens—a fluffy gray one with bright eyes.

“Hi,” you almost squeak, reaching out carefully to offer your hand. The kitten sniffs at your fingers before deciding to nuzzle into them. “Oh, you’re so cute. What’s your name?” You read the tag around his neck. “Bruno. Nice to meet you.” You’re not sure why you are telling him your name, but it seems like the right thing to do. 

You feel so warm inside, like you are taking the one step you have been wanting to take from the start. Getting a pet with the man of your dreams. Though you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more than Matt is. 

He’s hesitant as he steps closer, folding his cane now that he is out of anyone’s eyesight, and he tilts his head slightly to listen to the kitten’s movements—the soft rustle of his fur, the tiny pitter-patter of paws on the floor, and the barely audible purring that you seem to be coaxing from him.

He can’t deny that he is a little jealous. You’re so enamored with him. If he could purr, he would.

“This was a great idea,” you say, turning to grin at Matt, who still hasn’t quite moved past the threshold of the room. You can tell he’s trying to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but his body language betrays him. 

It’s funny to see your usually so stoic boyfriend nervous and almost scared of a few tiny kittens. The smell must be overwhelming, you know, but it can’t be the only thing holding him back.

“Matt,” you hold out a hand for him to take, “come on, don’t be shy. They’re not gonna bite.”

“Maybe not bite,” he says.

“You fight crime on a nightly basis, and you’re scared of cats?”

He frowns. “I’m not scared.”

“Sure,” you say. With a smile, you take his hand in yours again, guiding him toward a small black kitten that’s been quietly observing from a perch by the window. You’re not sure why, but the little guy reminds you of him. Calm, reserved, but always alert. 

The kitten’s sleek fur gleams in the light, and when you bring Matt closer, he lets out a tiny, curious meow. The volunteer said to let the cats choose you, but you have never seen a more beautiful specimen—except for the human-cat right next to you.

“Meet potential fur baby number two,” you murmur.

You guide his hand toward the kitten.

Matt crouches down beside you, but he’s hesitant. For a second, you think he’s going to pull back, but then the kitten nuzzles right into his hand, and he stops dead in his tracks.

A soft smile spreads across Matt’s face—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that makes your heart flutter. 

“He likes you…”

He chuckles softly. “I don’t know… seems like this one might be too calm for me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Too calm? Suddenly, you want a high-maintenance cat? A second ago, you wouldn’t even touch him.”

“Just saying… might be nice to have a challenge.”

“I think we, but especially you, have enough challenges in your life,” you retort. “Maybe a calm cat is exactly what we need.”

He doesn’t respond, just keeps stroking the kitten’s fur as he curls up even more. Matt has something about you that puts both humans and cats at ease, you notice. The same thing that makes you want to curl up in his arms is making this tiny kitten trust him after not even a minute together. You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with affection. He’s so good at this.

You join in eventually. The kitten doesn’t shy away; he seems oddly content with the two of you already.

“So, what do you think?” you ask softly after a moment.

Matt tilts his head, considering, and for a second, you wonder if he’s really thinking about the question or if he’s just stalling. But then, he lets out a quiet sigh and says, “I don’t know… what do you think?”

You smile. He’s been through so much, been so used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something as simple as getting a pet—something that brings warmth and comfort—might feel strange to him. 

You remember how it was when you started growing closer. When he asked you to move in with him. When he told you he loved you after you told him first, afraid you might still slip away from him as most people in his life have. Dealing with something small and fragile scares him. Having something to look after and care for scares him. Maybe that’s why you haven’t talked about children yet; he’s scared of making a mistake, of hurting the people he loves and has sworn to protect. But that’s not who Matt Murdock is to anyone but himself.

“I think,” you say, slipping your arm through his and leaning your head against his shoulder, “that you deserve everything good in your life. That’s why you should decide.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers still brushing through the kitten’s fur. Finally, he nods, and the smile on his face turns just a little softer, a little more real.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you too.”

The kitten meows. His collar says ‘Pumpkin’, and that is oddly on the nose, you think. The two of you, finding a cat in October, and his name is Pumpkin. 

Matt chuckles. “Okay, I heard that.” And then, turning toward you, he says, “Let’s take him home.”

Your face lights up. “Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, I already have the best thing I could have in the world, right here,” his chin tips toward you, “but… you’re right. We could use a little calm in our life.”

You press a kiss on his shoulder. “Then let’s do this. Let’s take him home.”

Pumpkin. 

Pumpkin Murdock. 

That doesn’t sound so bad. Now all you need is his last name, too. 

Soon.

Very soon. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[adoredawn]

✧˖° — adventures in babysitting

pairing: joe goldberg x fem! reader

type: imagine (1.6k+ words)

requested: no

summary: joe and love decide to get a babysitter for henry after dottie’s breakdown. who would’ve thought she'd spark joe's interest?

warning(s): one-sided pining (-ish). rushed plot / dialogue. no use of y/n.

note(s): not my gif. not my divider. this takes place during season 3! i’ve seen sooo little joe love on here, so i thought i’d write some! i haven’t written a full fledged fic in nearly 4 years, so please bear with me while i try to regain my skills. reblog & comment if you enjoyed it / want a part 2!

adoredawn’s masterlist

“if you want to make some calls to any previous parents i’ve worked with, there are some cell numbers i can give you,” you said with a smile, looking between the husband and wife before you. you sat opposite them on a plush loveseat as they were side-by-side on their gray sofa adorned with decorative pillows.

“oh that doesn’t seem necessary, we’ve heard great things.” love grinned as she patted joe’s knee lovingly. “cary and sherry just could not recommend you enough!”

you giggled and shook your head, smoothening out your summer dress. “i did have my hands full with those twins, that week and a half was a wild one…”

there was an uncomfortable silence. the house was eerily quiet for a toddler to be living in it, though it was his nap time. your eyes drifted down to what trinkets littered their coffee table. coasters, a book on home décor, and toddler toy keys.

as you had walked in earlier, you noticed their home was eerily clean. a family portrait of the three was already hung in a hallway and other pictures were framed on bookshelves and end tables. their home was modern, yet vintage at the same time. it felt like a showroom, but one you could call home.

you could feel their eyes on you, studying you, as you gazed around their home.

joe cleared his throat and sat up straighter, love looked at him expectingly and you mimicked his movements, snapping out of your thoughts. “so… how soon can you start? how’s your schedule?”

you opened your mouth to answer, reaching beside you to grab your purse and look at the calendar on your phone, but a cry rang from upstairs.

love sighed, “sorry about that, i guess nap time’s over! i’ll go get him and we can introduce you.” she sprang up from her seat and made her way up the staircase, glancing back once to eye joe.

joe watched as his wife traveled up the stairs to soothe their toddler, and as he turned back to look at you, he caught your stare. you momentarily forgot what he had asked, flustered. “oh-uh, well i can start as soon as you need. i’m available all week really. i’m taking a break from school for a semester.”

joe seemed to perk up, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “huh, what’re you studying?”

“education, with a focus on advanced literature in secondary education”

he licked his lips and you couldn’t help but watch. your hands balled into fists in your lap, crescent moons forming in your palms from your nails digging in.

“you enjoy reading?” his voice buzzed lowly with curiosity and you nodded softly.

“mhm, i plan on being a high school teacher or a professor once i graduate.” you paused, looking behind joe at the staircase, and wondering what was taking love so long. you shook your head slightly, focusing your attention back on joe, trying to remain cool. “do you read?”

“i do. i was a bookstore manager for some time.”

“really? that must’ve been fun-“

“here he is, say ‘hi’ henry!” love came down the stairs carrying henry on her hip. joe turned and watched them both come down, reaching for henry once love had sat beside him again.

you waved at little henry, and he barely paid you any mind, focusing on his mother and father. love turned him around to sit facing you, where you could see that his white pajama onesie was covered in blue moons and yellow stars.

“henry, say ‘hi,’ bubba!” love encouraged him, grabbing his arm to wave at you, causing you to smile and wave back. she looked up from him, to you, a serious look on her face. “do you want to hold him? he’s not very fussy around newer people.”

you hesitate, looking back and forth between love and joe, as if asking for permission, even though love has already granted it. meanwhile henry babbled, spitting drool over his onesie. “sure sure, i’ve got him,” you said confidently.

you stood and bent over the coffee table separating you from the couple, reaching for their toddler. as love passed him to you, henry giggled, flailing his legs and flapping his arms while he’s in the air, causing the three of you to also begin laughing.

you felt joe watching you as you held henry, and you tried your best not to return any glances, wanting to maintain your focus on henry.

you sat back on the loveseat, bouncing henry on your lap a few times. “hey, henry, how’re you doing, buddy? i’m gonna be your new babysitter.” you tell him your name, chanting it as you point at yourself a few times. he looks at you and smiles, grabbing at the bottom hem of your dress and tugging.

you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched as you had henry in your lap. of course you were being watched, you told yourself. joe and love just wanted to make sure they would be leaving henry with someone who knew what they were doing. and you very much did.

after a few minutes of holding henry, he began to stretch his arms out, pleading to go back to his parents. you held him back safely as he whined and yearned to reach the other side of the coffee table.

joe grunted an “i got ‘im,” before he walked over to you and picked henry up off of your lap, his hands brushing yours. you felt a pang in your heart as you touched, but squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore it.

once joe got a hold of him, henry began to shriek. joe tried to calm him down, patting his back and rocking him side to side, but he didn’t let up. love quickly got up from her seat and took henry from joe, patting his back.

“it’s okay, forty, it’s okay, momma’s here…” love soothed him, and whispered “sorry!” she sat back on the couch, trying to calm him down.

joe ran a hand through his hair, frowned, and sighed. you watched him with a frown, and he caught your gaze, to which you stood and stuck out your hand. “it was really great to meet you you both.”

joe took your hand in his and shook, smiling softly at you. “it was nice meeting you, miss... i’ll walk you out.” you blushed lightly as he recalled your name and turned to love and squeezed her shoulder goodbye. she muttered a soft “bye” and you rubbed henry’s back and said bye to him as well.

joe kissed love on the cheek as she settled henry down and followed behind you. you reached for the doorknob, and joe followed suit, his fingers brushing against yours again. they lingered for a second, and you turned to look up at him as you retreated your hand.

he smiled gingerly as he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted the door open. you’re both greeted by the gorgeous california sun and birdsong and you take a step outside. you turned, expecting to say your final goodbyes, but joe followed you out.

“thank you, again, for coming out to see us and meet henry. i assume love already gave you our numbers?” he asked as he closed the door behind him. he leaned against the door frame with both hands in his pockets and quickly looked you up and down.

you nodded, “yeah, it was no problem. and she did. do you have mine?” you began pulling your phone out of your purse before joe spoke.

“yes, i can send you a text to make sure it’s the right one?”

before you could agree, joe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began typing. soon enough, you heard a familiar ding! from inside your purse, and went to read the message:

Hello, you.

you smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “i’ve got it, thanks.” you turned away to leave before stopping abruptly. joe had already turned to leave as well, and faltered as you came back. “sorry, uh, i was just wondering when would i be starting?”

joe stuck his tongue in his cheek, in thought for a moment, and you took this time to fully drink him in. he had one hand in his pants pocket, the other rubbing his chin. his dark curls fell perfectly over his forehead, and you wanted to brush them away to get him to look deeply into your eyes. his gray sleeves hugged the curve of the muscles on his arms so right, that you nearly melted at the thought of being trapped in them.

you couldn’t be thinking like this, you scolded yourself. you'd never suddenly gotten this rush of feelings when meeting someone before. he’s happily married with a kid that you’ll be taking care of. get. it. together!

“how about monday? i’ll be home for a few hours, and i don’t think love would mind if i stay and show you henry’s schedule.”

you nodded eagerly, “absolutely, just let me know when to get here. thank you, again, for having me!” you waved goodbye as you trekked down their concrete walkway and to their white picket fence toward your car. you covered your eyes from the sun and once you made it to your car, you searched for and waved at joe from across the street.

joe waved to you and watched as you settled into your vehicle. he didn’t take his eyes off of you until your car had driven out of his sight, eager for the weekend to fly by and see you on monday.

[pitchsidestories]

part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1672

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.

This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.

“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.

You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.

 “Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.

“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.

“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.

“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.

“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.

“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.

“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.

“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.

On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.

 “Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.

“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.

“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.

“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.

“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.

“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.

“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.

Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“

“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.

“I’ll.“

“Thank you.“

You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“

Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.

One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.

“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“

“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.

“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.

You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.

“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.

You smiled happily: “Perfect.“

A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.

Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“

“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.

“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.

Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“

She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.

The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.

You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“

You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.

Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.

You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“

She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“

“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.

“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.

Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”

“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.

Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”

“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.

“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.

“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.

“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.

“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.

Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.

The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.

The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.

Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.

“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.

“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.

“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.

“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.

“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.

“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.

“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.

Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“

“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.

“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.

“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.

Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“

“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.

“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.

Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“

“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.

“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.

Sara only groaned in response.

In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.

“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.

“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.

You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“

“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.

“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“

“There’s no way!“

You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“

“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.

Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“

pictures are from pinterest.

[tippenstoepens]

Prettiest Girl in the Room

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: 1.2k

You couldn’t hold it against Joe. As an adult woman, you knew better by now. Kisses don’t come with strings attached and just because a person kisses you, doesn’t mean they want to spend the rest of their life with you - especially if that kiss happened while both parties were drunk.

Which Joe made pretty apparent when he didn’t call you the morning after your kiss. Or the three mornings after that. Or the three months after that. All you had heard from Joe was his reaction notifications from the cast group chat when someone would send a Twitter meme made of the show. Everyone fancied one of Jackson’s character screaming “Well, you can shove your ham up your ass!” 

“Joekeery loved an image”

That’s all you got. 

You went about your life the way you always did between gigs: waitressing during the week, babysitting your friends’ kids on weekends, and sending out the odd self-tape in hopes your career wasn’t over before it had even begun. It was a nice, simple life. Not every actor was fortunate enough to afford a roof over their head in New York City, no matter how many doubles they worked. You consider yourself spoiled rotten every day. What could possibly be missing?

You didn’t date. That was probably part of the problem. That’s what made Joe’s silence ache so deeply. You wondered if it would change anything if he knew that the most action you had gotten in months before the kiss was getting catcalled in the streets. A simple kiss meant the world to celibate, touch starved women like you.

Maybe you should be the one to call him… And maybe you should crawl on your knees begging him to pay you a modicum of attention with “DESPERATE” written on your forehead in red Sharpie just to put the icing on the idiot cake. 

He popped into your mind way more often than he was welcome. At the grocery store when one of the songs he always played in the makeup trailer started harassing you over the intercom. In your kitchen when you removed fish bones from your salmon. In bed when you were trying to… Well, that’s no one’s business. 

“Guess who has two thumbs and just got renewed for a second season,” the director bubbled in the group chat.

“Oh, I love this game,” David texted. “This show. Our show got greenlit.”

It was time to shake it off. Not just for the sake of the show, but for your own sake. It wasn’t healthy to dwell so much on the past. 

On the first day back from hiatus, the producers and director had the cast sit for a table read of the first few scripts they had written. As Joe’s TV wife, you’d expect to be sitting next to him considering most of your scenes were together. Maybe you should talk to Joe and clear the air before the table read started. Yes. That’s the mature thing to do.

You arrived twenty-five minutes early - which is on-the-dot on time in the acting world. Joe wasn’t there when you arrived. Or ten minutes after you did. Or five minutes after that.The anticipation of Joe’s arrival was turning your stomach into knots. He was usually punctual. Surely, he wasn’t tardy because of you.

“Any word from Joe?” The director mumbled to his assistant. 

“Haven’t heard from him,” they replied.

You began to worry. Was he skipping out on the table read because he didn’t want to see you? Had his avoidance of you gone that far? He’d have to get over it eventually. He had a contract to fulfill. Just as you began your descent into a catastrophizing spiral, the clock struck eleven and Joe jogged into the room - beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “So sorry,” he panted. “Traffic was terrible.”

“It’s okay, we wouldn’t get started without our golden boy,” David teased. “I hear he’s up for sexiest man alive this year.”

Joe blew a short raspberry in response.

“Alright, alright, let’s get right into it, shall we? From the top of episode one.” The director chirped, no doubt relieved that he didn’t have to read Joe’s lines for him. “Interior. The Henderson bedroom. John and Jane Henderson lie in bed, covered only by their silk bed sheets. They’re snuggled up together. Post-coitus is implied.”

Say sike right now. You had never done a scene like this with Joe before. Never! The Henderson’s didn’t even have a scene like this in their honeymoon episode.

Of course this would be the first scene on the first day back after your first time seeing Joe after your first kiss. It was fan service. Every girl, guy, and person wanted to see more of Joe’s skin these days. But why did you have to be dragged into it?

You turned to look Joe in the eyes as you would have at any other table reading. Normal. This is normal. Business as usual. But it didn’t feel as easy as it was before. At first, you struggled to make eye contact and when you finally did, the intensity of his gaze made you blush a bit. Only a bit. The show must go on.

“That was amazing, sweetheart,” he scooped the line off the page and met your gaze again. 

God, the script writing was really going downhill this season, huh?

You sighed contently as the script dictated. “You’re tellin’ me!”

The whole cast chuckled.

The rest of the table read went on without a single hitch. After the ice was broken, things weren’t nearly as awkward as you dreaded they would be. The cast went through the entire table read five times before the lunch break. The first thing you did with your free time was approach Joe.

“You didn’t call.”

“Neither did you."

Fair, but not really because Joe was the one with a booming career and Joe was the one everyone tuned in to the show for and Joe was the one with most of the power in this dynamic and Joe was the one who initiated the kiss and infinitely many other reasons that he was to blame came to mind before you finally came to the conclusion that you didn’t call Joe because you were afraid of the possibility of rejection. What if you followed up only to find out that he wasn’t interested in you? Your low-self esteem convinced you that reaching out to a person like Joe was asking for embarrassment.

“So what now?” The rough exterior melted, revealing the vulnerable little girl inside that just wanted a boy to like her back.

“Well, that’s up to you,” he shrugged.

Not necessarily the answer you wanted. You just stared him down until he said more things.

“If it was just a drunken kiss, I understand. We’ll never speak of it again. We’ll keep things professional.”

“And if it wasn’t?” You murmured while making sure to avoid eye contact lest you be made a fool of for saying that.

“If it wasn’t… I’d like you to have dinner with me," he blushed. "Some time. If you… I dunno if you have free time- Well, of course you have free time, but I meant- If you want to have dinner,” he stammered and stuttered.

“I’d love to.”

Joe sighed in relief. “Great. Do you like Italian?” He smiled a bashful, closed lipped smile and it made the corners of his big, brown eyes crinkle.

“I love Italian.”

“I know a spot in the lower east side near Ludlow. Friday at eight? I’ll pick you up if you like.” God, his eyes.

The submissive in you wished he would stop worrying about what you like and make you do what he liked. The romantic in you found his sheepishness so charming.

“I’d like that,” you beamed.

Taglist: @thefrontofmymind, @bejeweled13swiftie

[goldenroutledge]

next to you

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x reader

word count ⤜ 1.1k

summary ⤜ mornings with your husband, rafe.

warning(s) ⤜ this work contains a MAJOR season three spoiler! but other than that just fluff? might be on the hurt/comfort side just a smidge

a/n ⤜ he looks so BOYFRIEND in this outfit! i’ve been having so much writer’s block i haven’t written in a year at least, but my babygirl mila @msgorillagripcoochie inspired me with this idea <3 this isn’t canon rafe btw literally none of my work is canon compliant

rafe cameron masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

Steam fogged the mirrors of the en-suite bathroom, slowly dissipating with the cooler air being let in from the bedroom. White towel hanging around his hips, Rafe sat at the edge of the bed you shared, staring down the vast space of the walk-in closet.

Fidgeting with the ring on his finger, nerves coursed through his body, and it was in times like these that he remembered the days of drinking scotch before 11am. But that was a thing of the past, he reminded himself just as quickly as the thought popped into his mind.

Today he was meeting with an old teacher from his alma mater, who grew to be one of his favorites. Probably his only favorite.

Rafe was never a scholar or anything, something Ward didn’t allow him to forget. He just learned differently, from someone like Sarah who could barely show up to school three times a week and still pass every exam.

It wasn’t until Rafe found himself with a 67% in his social studies class and less than a month left in the semester to turn his grade around that he was forced to attend office hours.

The first day was embarrassing. He felt like an idiot in the first place, seeing as his horrible grades pretty much spoke for themselves. But even more so now that he had to stay longer at school because he was an idiot.

Rafe stayed silent for the most part. Letting the professor do most of the talking, letting him know which assignments and topics he needed to perform well on to end the class with a passing grade.

It wasn’t until that Friday, his professor knocked some sense into him.

« “You know you’ll never learn anything if you don’t ask questions, right?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of sitting prisoner in the chair of his teacher’s office. “What do you want me to ask?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t have questions.” He lied unconvincingly.

“Every time I teach you, Rafe, I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re a smart kid. But I can’t help you excel if you don’t engage. I get it, alright. I felt stupid asking a bunch of questions in front of everyone in school too but I need you to be receptive. Help me help you, Mr. Cameron.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay. We can start with assigning you a peer tutor.”

Rafe wanted to laugh. Or cry, he wasn’t sure. The whole thing was just ridiculous to him at this point.

“She’ll be someone you can talk with about the material, ask questions to, someone you can trust to help you get back on track. Are you familiar with Y/n Y/ln?” »

Little did he know, Mr. Murphy would be getting the boot by the school board. Something about budget cuts, as if the kook parents of the island didn’t give enough donations to the school to keep the water fountains at a perfectly cold temperature.

Not because their books were falling apart or because their desks were chipping. Because people are selfish, and the new headmistress of the academy felt like the money could be better spent remodeling her office. It was laughable, really.

Today, that professor was back on the island, and reached out to Rafe to meet with him following the news of Ward’s death. Not that he mentioned that specifically in his email, though it was mostly implied that he’d wanted to check up on Rafe after everything.

And with all the questions he’d probably be asked today during this lunch with his old mentor, all he could ponder over was what he was going to wear. Perhaps it was a method of procrastination, to get his mind off of everything else.

Rafe sighed. “Y/n?”

At hearing his voice echoing through the house, you slid your bookmark in between the pages and followed his voice upstairs into your shared bedroom.

“You called?”

“I need your help.”

Your eyebrows raised involuntarily at the sight before you; no matter how many times you’d seen Rafe almost naked (and actually naked), he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Help getting dressed?”

He nods, confirming that you’re always good at reading his mind. “Dress me, please?”

You chuckled, pulling some articles of clothing from the hangers and drawers. It was just lunch, so it wasn’t like he needed anything too business-y. His striped blue and orange shirt had always been one of your favorites, though he seemed to look good in almost anything.

You threw a pair of boxers over to him, keeping your back turned as you still rummaged through the closet. No matter how irresistible he was, there wasn’t any time for funny business this morning.

“There’s no need to be nervous, y’know. Mr. Murphy has always liked you.”

How do you always know what he’s thinking, damnit. “Yeah. I guess.”

He pulled the striped shirt over his head while you found pants for him to wear.

“Just don’t want him to think I’m still the same loser I was back then.”

“You’ve never been a loser, Rafe.”

“Maybe not in your eyes.” His lips stretched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He put on the pants you picked for him, sitting back down to look up at you.

“Definitely not in my eyes.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so his head rested on your stomach. The tips of your fingernails lightly scratched the back of his neck as you embraced.

“Do you remember the science fair? Freshman year?”

Rafe hummed in response. “Ward thought it was stupid. I asked him to come and he didn’t. Said he would be too embarrassed when I lost.”

“And then what happened? You won the whole damn thing.”

“I won the whole damn thing.” He smiled against your skin, repeating your words softly.

“You’ve never been a loser.”

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his thighs, and gave him a sweet kiss.

“You’ve already accomplished so much.” You affirmed, reminding him of the businesses he had taken over since Ward died. Still, Rafe was unsure if he could rise to the occasion.

You took the ends of his jeans and cuffed them, knowing he’s terrible at doing it himself. They always come out uneven. And conveniently enough, he likes spending these quiet moments together. Neither of you would trade them for anything.

“I married you.” He cooed, taking your left hand in his and letting his thumb glide across the ring on your finger. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“That it was.” You cheesed, letting him pull you up to straddle him. “Next time you think you’re not accomplished, Rafey…” You peppered soft kisses to his jawline. “Remember that you’ve got me.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @babeyglo @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + rafe cameron taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @chrisevansfuturewife @drewstarkeysbitchh @littlementalpolaroids @destourtereaux @kookkyra @iammirrorball

it’s been a while since i’ve posted writing so if anyone wants to be removed from/added to the taglist please don’t hesitate to let me know! 💌

[unsolvedjarin]

omg after reading part two of the mentor!seb x ferrari driver!reader fic i NEED something where he actually tries to play matchmaker for reader and mick😭 Like him giving so many hints but reader is just oblivious and Seb decides to take matter into his own hands yk?

Only if you’re open to it ofc! 🥰🥰

BEES, AMONG OTHER THINGS.

pairing: (mick schumacher x driver! reader) (mentor! sebastian vettel x reader)

note: HEY. i havent written anything in weeks and its been KILLING me. ive been so burnt out lately its crazy, but seeing seb in suzuka did give me a bit of motivation (although this is more of a mick-centric fic, my boy deserves it.) anyways sorry for letting this stew for so long anon, hopefully i can write more soon ive missed it tbh

summary: suzuka finds itself not only an interesting spot for bee hotels, but for reunions and confrontations as well.

content warning: none, except its a little all over the place and once again i havent grammar checked this im so sorry it’s three in the morning

previous part, but can be read without <3

When Sebastian invited the grid to his bee hotel opening, he expected maybe five or six people to come, but not this.

Everyone was coming.

And by everyone, I mean everyone. The drivers, the reserves, even the team principals, had all confirmed their appearance for the event. Sebastian knew he was loved by the grid, but the thought of all of them coming together for him still made his heart swell.

It was one in the afternoon, just thirty minutes before they were about to actually start the event. While the participation of the drivers were confirmed, they were still coming in one by one, some later than the others. Sebastian was in a particularly interesting conversation with Fernando about flowers when a poke to his shoulder captured his attention.

He turned around to find you, standing there behind him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with excitement you couldn’t contain. It was the first time you’ve seen each other since Silverstone, and even then you barely had time to talk to each other.

Before he could say anything, you jumped into his arms and hugged him so tight that Sebastian thought he would lose oxygen— but he still hugged you back with equal enthusiasm.

“Sebastian!” you screamed, being spun around once by the man. He missed you so much. Sebastian wasn’t particularly the greatest texter, and calling wasn’t something you were fond of, so besides the occasional visit you barely talked.

“Y/N, I thought you’d never come,” he says with a grin. He knew you were coming, of course. You would never miss out on this. You give him a playful shove, before giving Fernando a quick hug as well. In the year Seb has been gone, you had gotten closer with the Aston Martin driver who replaced him.

Fernando excuses himself quickly after, knowing you and Sebastian had some catching up to do. “Don’t tell me you’ve replaced me with him,” Sebastian jokes the second the Spaniard was out of earshot.

“Why, are you jealous?” you teased. He scoffs in reply, but you could hear the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Don’t worry Seb, while I love his talk about flowers, you talking my ear off about bees still appeals to me more.”

That makes him smile.

“I’m glad you prefer my infodumping, then.”

The fact that you taught him that term makes your grin even wider. “Anytime.”

You wanted to talk with him more, to tell him how you’ve been doing the past few months, but before you could, some PR person swooped in to film some videos with him.

“Ah, sorry liebling,” Sebastian sighs. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “One thing I haven’t missed are these media hungry people.”

You stifle a giggle, before nudging him away from you. “Go on, it’s your event, this is your own doing.”

He rolls his eyes but walks away nonetheless, following the person from the media. Before he moves out of earshot, however, he shouts, “Oh by the way, Mick is here! Don’t be shy, go talk to him.”

Oh the bastard.

Half the grid must have heard that. You look at him with shock and a light blush on your cheeks but are met only with a cheeky grin from the man before he turns around to fully walk away.

Admittedly though, he was right. You hadn’t been talking to Mick much. You had a few lunches with him after Seb retired but without his third wheeling company, it just felt awkward to go out with the reserve driver one on one. You started thinking he just ate with you because he felt bad for you or something of the sort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice snaps you out of your thinking.

“Jesus! Lewis, don’t give me a heart attack like that.”

The Mercedes driver laughs before replying, “Sorry, you just looked tense. Thinking about the race?”

“Not really, just some other stuff.”

“Like what? Like Mick?”

You almost choked on your own saliva right there and then. “Wh- what? What would— haha— make you think that? No that’s crazy, I’m just thinking about the bees! Yeah, because like the bee hotel and stuff I love b—”

“Sebastian wasn’t really quiet talking to you just then, you know.” He comments, cutting you off.

“Oh I’ll kill him.”

“Doubt it, you’ve missed him too much these past months to kill him immediately.”

“Touché, maybe I’ll wait a few more then.”

“Stop avoiding the question, why’re you thinking about Mick?” Lewis asks, not giving the topic up. Oh what the hell, Sebastian trusts him right? So you could trust him.

Thinking of how you could word your thoughts properly, you start, “I kinda— I dunno— I mean he’s a nice guy, he’s pretty sweet, and we’re friends obviously so it’d be—”

“You like him don’t you.” Lewis cuts you off for the second time in a row.

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he sighs, letting it linger for a moment. “That’s crazy.”

A beat of silence passes. “You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“Say anything else about what?” Sebastian butts in your conversation, clearly just having finished his short interview. He takes his place beside you, scooching in between you and Lewis instead of taking up the free space on the other side.

“Oh, Y/N was just talking about how she likes Mick.”

“Was not!” You exclaim.

“Was too,” Lewis retorts. His teasing never ceased to amuse and annoy you at the same time.

“I think I’m going to believe Lewis on this one. After all, you did tell me, and I quote, you ‘sorta have a little maybe crush’ on Mick.”

You hang your mouth agape incredulously before slapping Seb on the arm, “I told you that in confidence!”

Seb laughs before defending himself, “Well Lewis knows now! Besides, it’s not like you’ve been that discrete about it.”

You look at Lewis who shrugs in reply, “It’s true. Pretty obvious when a Ferrari driver keeps hanging around the Mercedes garage, mate.”

Oh well, cat’s out of the bag. There’s no point in keeping it secret from Lewis now, you think. Putting your head in your hands, you groan, “That’s the problem! I’m always at the Mercedes garage talking to you or Toto or even George but never him!”

“Well why don’t you…talk to him?”

“Great advice Sherlock, gee, got any more good ones for me?” You ask Sebastian sarcastically. While you and Seb banter though, Lewis recalls a conversation he had with Mick one late night back in Singapore.

“Hey Lew, was Y/N here earlier?”

Lewis, who was packing up to go home, redirects his focus to the only remaining guy in the garage save for a few engineers. “Yeah, she visited right after the race to congratulate me. Why’re you looking for her?”

“Oh nothing, just asking.” Mick replies, fiddling with his hands. Even in his tired state, Lewis could tell that there was more the young driver wasn’t saying.

“C’mon, spit it out.” Lewis says, taking a seat on a random chair and patting the one beside him for Mick to take a seat. The younger driver hesitates for a moment before sighing and sitting down. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than anyone. Do you know what happened when Alonso crashed his McLaren back in 2015?”

“No, what?”

“Exactly,” Lewis replies with a grin. “So what is it?”

“I…” Mick sighs, unable to find the right words for what he was trying to say. “I think I like Y/N.”

There, it’s out in the open, he thinks. Mick waits for a reply from Lewis, but gets none. “Hello?”

Another beat of silence.

“Okay, this is starting to scare me.”

Lewis finally snaps out of his trance-like state, before getting up and continuing to pack up his things. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Well I thought it’d be something more secretive,” he says, putting up bunny ears.

“It is secretive,” Mick replies, mocking Lewis’ bunny ears. “No one knows.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that mate. I mean if you exclude Sebastian, Fernando, Toto, and myself, then sure, no one knows.”

Oh shit. Was he that obvious? “How- how did you all figure it out?”

“Well for one, if constantly tailing Sebastian and Y/N last year was your attempt at being discreet, then it was a horrible attempt. Second, you need to stop turning red and running away whenever she’s at the garage giving out food and what not. I can’t keep asking her for extra donuts for you forever, you know?”

Mick blushed slightly at the comment, not realizing how every time you came around to the garage he’d been unwillingly avoiding you out of fear you wouldn’t want to talk to him.

Lewis pats Mick on the back, getting ready to leave. “Listen man, if I were you, I’d make a move. That opportunity won’t last forever, plus, it seems like they like you back. Didn’t you guys go out together just the two of you a couple of times?”

Mick shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I think she did that just because she felt bad for me being alone in the grid and because she missed Sebastian.”

Lewis internally rolled his eyes. He’s seen the way you look at Mick, there’s no way you didn’t like him too. “You have to stop doubting yourself. I mean the worst she can do is say no, right?”

“The worst she can do is avoid me for the rest of my life because I misread all the signs and she actually hates me.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lewis replied sarcastically, before murmuring a goodbye and leaving the garage.

That was weeks ago now, but the conversation was still stuck in Lewis’ head. He’d been right all along, you did like Mick back.

“Hey Seb, can I talk to you in private really quickly?” He speaks up, making you and the retired driver stop your bantering for a moment.

“You can say it in front of Y/N, it’s fine.” Seb replied. He trusted you completely with anything and everything.

“Well not if it’s about her.”

“Hey!” you complain. “Are you openly gossiping about me?”

“Listen, if you want our help, then let us huddle for a minute.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and nod at them. You really really liked Mick, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So if these two old twats could help you, then so be it.

Lewis pulls Seb to the side for a moment, inhaling deeply before talking softly so you couldn’t hear. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Mick told me he likes Y/N.”

Sebastian whips his head to face Lewis, “Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going out with us all the time last year for no reason.”

“Yeah, he’s not so discreet. Here’s the problem though, he firmly believes Y/N may hate him, and you know that Y/N believes Mick only likes her as a friend.”

“So what you’re saying is they’re both hopeless?”

“Without our help, basically yes.”

“God I can’t believe they haven’t caught a clue,” Sebastian sighs. “I even excused myself from multiple meals so I could leave the two of them alone even for a few minutes.”

“You’re telling me mate, I basically had to shove Mick towards her whenever she was at the garage or in hospitality.”

Meanwhile, while the two men were devising on their own, you were getting antsy. What could they possibly be coming up with? You didn’t really want to think about it too much, so you decided to take a walk around the track. After all, the event was about to start, so you might as well familiarize yourself with your surroundings.

You went through the unpainted bee hotels, admiring their woodwork and the effort it must’ve taken to make them. Sebastian had sent you a text at three in the morning yesterday saying “Finished! :-)” with a picture of the bee hotels attached, so you knew he put hard work into this project. You were happy that he was doing something he loved while retired, but at the same time you missed him terribly on the grid. It was lonely, you will admit, without him by your side. Sure you had your teammate Charles and the support of your fellow drivers, but it never felt like anyone truly knew you on the track besides Seb.

Stuck in your thoughts, you failed to notice the man who was walking up behind you mustering the courage to strike a conversation. You turn around to check out another bee hotel when you bump straight into Mick walking up to you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Ow—” you hold your head in pain, which you bumped into the bee hotel roof when you recoiled backwards from the hit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Great, Mick thought. Now what?

You’ve made a fool of yourself, congratulations, you thought.

Sebastian was about to walk over to see what all the commotion was about, when Lewis put a hand out and stopped him. “Look who bumped into her.”

Sebastian squinted a little— his eyesight had gotten worse but he refused to get glasses— and grins when he realizes who it is. “Best leave them to it then, I have an event to organize anyways.”

Meanwhile, Mick had no clue what to do. You were holding your head in pain, with your eyes closed trying to regain stability from the dizziness, and he was just standing there awkwardly trying to figure out what the right move was. Should he ask you again if you were alright? Should he hold you to stabilize you?

Well, why not both. Without thinking, he holds your shoulders, crouching down a little to look you in your eye, and asking a simple “You okay?”

You open your eyes, squinting because of the sun, and are met with a set of beautiful blue ones staring at you. Holy fucking shit. Now you don't know what to do.

“Uh— yeah, just hit my head. No biggie honestly, all good here,” you reply awkwardly. God, was it this hard to talk to him when Sebastian was around?

Mick lets go of your shoulders— you miss his touch already— and straightens up, nodding. “Good. Sorry for hitting you, I thought you heard me walking up.”

“No, it’s my fault honestly. Was stuck in my own thoughts. Nice that you pulled me out,” you joked, praying to whatever higher power was listening that it stuck.

Thankfully it did, and Mick let out a small giggle at your quip. It was enough for your stomach to do flips. And even though you had no clue, you joking around with him made his stomach do the same thing too. The simple interaction was enough to make him think that maybe you weren’t just hanging around with him before because you pitied him.

“You know,” Mick starts, before he loses confidence to breach the topic. He was here anyway, so might as well. “You’re always at the Mercedes garage but I never see you. I am sorry about that.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? You were the one who avoided him out of nervousness whenever you were there.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, honestly, that’s my fault anyway. Same with our lunches before, I’m sorry we did those less and less. I guess I got too caught up in the races. We should have another one here in Japan!” You add the last part haphazardly, not really thinking about what you’re saying because if you do you’ll lose confidence.

It was too late when you realized what you said, and terrified to see Mick’s reaction to the invitation, you stare at anything but him. Wow, the sky was blue today. How interesting.

Mick, on the other hand, was frozen on the spot. Did he hear that correctly? Were you inviting him to lunch for the first time in months?

Before the reserve driver could get his hopes up, however, he realized what was different this time. Sebastian was around.

Oh. Maybe that was the only reason you invited him this time around. Because, again, like before, you felt sorry for him being alone and you had the confidence to ask him because Sebastian was here.

“Would…Sebastian be coming?” He asked. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he begged God at that moment you would say no. He had nothing against the retired driver of course, he was like an uncle to him, but it would determine— for him at least— if you were going out with him out of pity or because you actually wanted to.

You, on the other hand, had a completely different interpretation of that question.

Did Mick not want to have lunch with you without Sebastian because he didn’t want to spend time with you? Did he feel like you were too awkward? Too weird? You stopped yourself before you could spiral even more.

“I mean, do you want him to?”

“Honestly? No.” Mick hears himself say without thinking. His eyes widened a bit at the fact that he said that aloud, making you giggle. It lifts the tension a bit and the air feels freer talking to him.

“Tsk tsk, I’ll make sure to tell him that.”

“Please don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it. I just meant—” Mick pauses for a second, finding it difficult to word his thoughts.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it all. “I want it to be you, just you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.” Before Mick can regret saying anything and repeatedly apologize for the implications of what he said, you tug on his shirt a little to get him to look at you. “Me too.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, laughing a bit at himself. “Thank god, I thought I made the wrong move there.”

“God no,” you laugh out. “I’m glad you said that honestly, I thought you just hung out with me before for Sebastian.”

Mick raised his eyebrows in confusion. Was that what you’d been thinking this whole time? “I thought you were just hanging out with me because you felt bad I was alone without Seb.”

This time you both look at each other, confused. You had both gotten it completely wrong.

The absurdity of it all makes you burst out laughing, and you try to cover it up with your hand but to no avail. “I’m sorry I just— ha!— I can’t believe I’ve been reading it wrong this whole time! I even avoided you in the garages because I thought you felt awkward around me.”

“I hid whenever you were at the garage because I thought you didn’t wanna talk to me,” Mick replied bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “In hindsight, that was pretty stupid, I suppose I wouldn’t ever know if you liked talking to me or not if I kept avoiding you.”

“Hold on, is that why Lewis always asked for extra food when I came around?”

“Yeah,” he answered, feeling embarrassed. It all felt so foolish now.

“That was stupid,” you tease. “So…what now?”

“I suppose we can just,” Mick gestures aimlessly with his hands. “Restart.”

You smile at him, liking the simplicity of the idea. After dancing around each other for a year, this is exactly what you wanted. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“What you were saying earlier, lunch? I know a good place. It’s pretty far from the track, but they have the best ramen and— hello Seb…?”

Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian had slowly inched himself closer to where you two were standing, trying to overhear your conversation. He was now stood a few meters away from you, pretending to be taking care of his bee hotel.

“You sneaky bastard!” you exclaim, slapping him on his shoulder for the second time that day. “How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“I just got here!” Sebastian replied, trying to defend himself. He’d actually been standing there for a couple minutes, but if none of you had noticed, then it was better for him to not bring it up. “Anyway, I came to say we’re starting the event. Charles is looking for you at the Ferrari station, Y/N.”

Sebastian moves to leave, but turns back around, standing beside you. “And Mick, if it’s no bother, you could come with me and Y/N to Disneyland on Tuesday. Only if you’d like, of course.”

“We’re going to Disneyland?” You ask, but a quick glance at Sebastian's expression and you realize what he was trying to do. “Oh! Yeah, we totally planned on going to Disneyland. You should come with us.”

“Yeah! Sure, I have nothing to do anyways. And lunch on Monday, Y/N?” Mick replies. You give him a soft smile and nod in response.

Seb looks at you in confusion, “Am I part of these lunch plans?”

“No.”

“Great to know. Anyways, to the Ferrari station liebe, chop chop,” Seb retorts, putting his arm around you to pull you towards the station. As much as he wanted you and Mick to talk more, he also wanted his event to get going.

“Talk later!” you shout, being practically dragged by Sebastian. Mick laughs at the sight, waving a goodbye to you and the retired driver. He felt like he won the lottery. You might not like him the way he liked you, but this was a start. This meant that you hung around him for him.

“Was the plan you and Lewis came up with simply inviting Mick to go to Disneyland?” You ask, the second you were far away enough from Mick.

Sebastian shrugs, “Yeah, basically.”

“Oh you pricks. Thank God I didn’t rely on you two then.”

“Hey! We tried,” Seb remarked. “But we saw you two getting along without our help so we decided to leave you two to it. What did you even talk about?”

“Our shared hatred for you,” you replied with no hesitation. You look over at Sebastian with a grin, watching him roll his eyes, smiling.

“Well if that’s what it took for you two to talk, then I’d happily be the butt of your conversations.”

God. Why did he have to be so nice about it? “I’m just kidding Seb, we just cleared up some misunderstandings. Honestly we should’ve talked sooner, it was such a relief to find out I’d just been overthinking our interactions.”

“Like you do with half of all things, schatz,” Sebastian says softly, smiling at you. He was right, you did overthink too much.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m trying to change.”

“That’s great, but you know what you should try first before that?” Seb asks with a playful look on his face. He comes to a stop in front of a bee hotel and grabs a paintbrush from beside it, putting it in your hands. “You should try participating in the event.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you mutter, grinning. You didn’t even notice you had walked all the way to the Ferrari station until then. You greet Charles, who was already there, before facing Sebastian again. “Still can’t believe you and Lewis’ plan was just Disneyland. Remind me to never trust you ever again.”

“Love you too,” Seb retorts sarcastically, grinning as he walks away to assist the other drivers. You shake your head with a smile, before facing the bee hotel again. Cheeky bastard.

Sebastian and Lewis had planned more than just Disneyland of course, they weren’t stupid. But the first phase of their plan was complete. Sebastian smiled to himself as he watched Mick talking to Lewis at the Mercedes station, ready to operate the second part of their ‘genius’ plan.

It was going to be a long, interesting week for all of them.

[mercurygguk]

head over skates · jjk ; part iii.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can’t stand it.

so what happens when you’re suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,255

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing, a teeny tiny little tension but also, jk is being very sweet :(

a/n; part 3!!! i love doing this little series bc it's so easy to write when the chapters aren't so long <3 i hope all of you enjoy it too despite the fact that it's not a very long read! lmk what you think! ty for reading xx

You didn’t text Jungkook back.

No matter how tempted you were when he tried to bribe you with iced americano – your favorite (which he remembered).

Instead you took it upon yourself and started working on the project without him. Your gut is telling you that he won’t be adding much to the group work nor will he invest the time and energy in it. There’s no reason to wait around for him to actually care about the project when you know that ‘caring’ isn’t one of his primary traits. It used to be but not anymore – if he still cared, he wouldn’t have abandoned your friendship the way he did.

Besides, it’s not like you mind. 

You’ll gladly put his name on the finished product if it means you’ll be rid of him and his flirty, cocky behavior. It’ll only make the process easier and you’ll be able to do it just the way you want. If anything, Jungkook should be grateful that you’re willing to do this on your own and just add his name. Normally you wouldn’t do something like this but you just can’t stand being stuck doing group work with him for three weeks.

Jihyo is right though – it is time to move past it but you can’t. Not yet.

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 5 years – that’s sixty months of spite and aggravation that has affected you way more than you would’ve liked. Like you said, you’re not one to hold grudges against people but this particular grudge has been sitting in the back of your mind for half a decade and while you’d love to be able to just let it go, you can’t.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your phone buzzes due to an incoming text. You reach for it to take a look, your face instantly twisting in annoyance when you realize who’s texting you.

[11:07 AM] Jeon🤬👊🏼: whatcha doing? ;)

You swipe it, removing it from your lock screen before returning your focus to your laptop and the project at hand. You let out a soft sigh and rest your chin in your palm as you play around with the font of the text – Times New Roman suddenly has a whole other meaning after Jungkook’s name was written next to yours the other day.

"It’s good to know your phone works.”

“Oh my god!”

Startled by the low and deep voice right next to your ear, you jump in your seat and turn around with widened eyes. Dark brown eyes with a mischievous glint in them are staring back at you, an amused grin on pink lips as well. You take notice of the two iced americanos in his hand before you’re scowling at your former friend turned stranger.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to do the project,” Jungkook tells you and holds up the beverages. “I brought drinks.”

“How did you know I was here?” You can’t help but ask, wondering how he managed to locate you. The library isn’t exactly one of the places on campus Jeon Jungkook frequents the most. You’d know since you spent a lot of time here. 

He shrugs, “I saw you when I walked by, went and got these,” he places the iced americanos onto the table, “and came back to join you.”

You gape at him for a moment as he pulls a chair out and takes a seat next to you, not a word of protest leaving you because you’re simply speechless once again. He actually got you iced americano and he genuinely wants to do the project. 

Something doesn’t seem right.

Jungkook glances at you with a smirk when he’s met by silence, “what? Surprised that I actually do my school work?”

You shake yourself off your speechlessness and shrug as nonchalantly as possible, “something like that.”

“I see you took a head start,” he nods to your laptop with a chuckle as he pulls his own out of his backpack. That fucking chunky, black backpack he’s had since high school. Back then you wondered what he carried around in it and every time you asked him, he would only shrug and grin. 

Teen boys and their mysterious behavior.

And just for a brief moment, you see your best friend from high school in front of you, sitting here next to you like back in the day – boyish grin and that same glint in his eye. He looks the same and it’s messing with your head because back then you were crushing hard on him. Jungkook has always dominated that casual, boyish charm and look and today is no different. He’s wearing an oversized white Nike t-shirt and black track pants from the same brand. There’s a yellow beanie on top of his head to tame his messy hair. For all you know, he could’ve gotten straight out of bed and gone to campus after throwing on the first outfit he could find – simple, casual, flattering.

The only difference is the two lip rings and the full sleeve of tattoos.

“Yeah, about that,” you start, shooting him a fake, over-friendly smile. “Don't worry about it – I’ll do the project and just add your name before handing it in.”

Jungkook blinks at you for a moment before recovering, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “why? You're scared I’ll fuck it up or some shit?”

You shake your head, “no, I just prefer working alone.”

“You always do projects with Jihyo though,” he points out, squinting his eyes at you.

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Or are you just saying that because I’m your partner?” He challenges.

How do you tell a guy who’s so used to getting his way and having people go out of their way to make sure he’s happy that you don’t want him as your project partner? That you’d rather do an important project that’s meant to be done in pairs by yourself and risk the possibility of getting stressed out just because you got paired up with him? 

“If I’m being honest, yes,” you tell him, not taking a moment to rethink your choice to confront him but just blurting it out instead. “I would rather work myself into the ground than do group work with you. So if you don’t mind…”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow as you do a gesture with your hands as if to shoo him away. He looks rather unbothered though, not moving an inch either. He stares at you for a second and if you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume he’s silently challenging you to try again, to tell him off and ‘shoo’ him away like a fucking bird. 

You don’t.

You stare back at him, your face not showing an ounce of anything as you patiently wait for him to get up and leave.

He doesn’t.

Instead the corners of his mouth curls into a faint smirk as he reaches for one of the iced americanos and slides it towards you. He then grabs the other one and turns to his laptop, silently sipping on his beverage while getting to work on the project.

You feel your blood starting to boil a little but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you pointedly snatch up the iced americano, once again turning your focus to the project at hand. You feel his eyes on you but you keep your eyes on your laptop screen, acting as if his presence isn’t affecting you or bothering you in any way.

You then give in and take a sip of the coffee.

Damn it… 

It’s a really good iced americano.