#wrestling smut blog

[dirtywrestling]

Forever in His Debt - Drew McIntyre (18+)

Commission: @tokipanda68

Pairing: Mobster!Drew McIntyre x Melody 

Summary: Melody’s father owes money to the mafia. He can’t afford to pay them back so Drew takes what he wants. 

Warnings: 18+, Kidnapping? Mafia, Cussing, Mentions of gambling and drinking, Smut, Minors DNI

Word Count: 4,193

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“Please, Drew- Mr. McIntyre, I’ll get you the money. I swear!” The small round man begged. Drew ignored every word that was coming out of his mouth. He’s had people like this before, borrowing money for whatever reason and not being able to pay the mafia back. Drew looked around the small house, it was pretty obvious that there was nothing valuable here that would cover the debt that this man dug himself in. 

“You see, when you borrowed money from me, from my mob I expect you to pay me back and on time.” Drew’s eyes were cold as he looked at the man. He knew this man’s gambling troubles and drinking so it was no surprise that the banks turned him down for a loan. Drew clicked his tongue, eyeing around the house, his goons behind him, their guns loaded. Of course no guns were out just in case there were children. Drew wasn’t that heartless, he did violent things, he was a fucking mobster for Christ sakes but he knew when to draw the line if children were involved.

Parents were smart to tell their children about the mafia as a scary story before bedtime. So arriving here and if there were children, they knew better than to do anything stupid. Drew’s hazel eyes scanned over the shelf, soon stopping to see a picture frame. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ Drew thought to himself, arching his eyebrow to see the man that borrowed money from him and a stunning girl who was no older than sixteen. Drew was shocked by her beauty in the picture. Tearing his attention away from the picture he looked around the house once more. There were pictures of her all on the wall now that he noticed, he stopped looking for anything valuable. “Is this your daughter?” Drew asked, pointing to a picture. 

Steve- the man who was in debt quickly nodded his head. “Yes, she just turned sixteen.” He swallowed thickly. “Her name is Melody.” Steve spoke, rubbing his knuckles nervously.

Drew licked his lips seductively. “Melody.” Drew whispered, the way her name rolled off his tongue made him shiver. 

Steve didn’t miss the way Drew licked his lips. “Please, Mr. McIntyre, she’s all I have.” 

“Let’s make a deal.” Drew spoke, ignoring Steve. “If you don’t have my money by the time Melody is legal age I will take her and we can forget about you being in the negatives with me.” Drew straightened his tie, brushing his sleeves. 

“I- I.” Steve didn’t know what to say, it was a hell of a deal and it was extremely hard to make deals with the leader of the mafia. “Are we talking about voting age or drinking age?” 

Coming home after a long day of college was the best part of the day, especially on my birthday. Pushing the key into the lock I twisted it, surprised that the door wasn’t locked I swung the front door open. “I’m home!” I hollered, taking my bag off of my shoulders. I placed it on the floor by the door. I tossed my keys onto the nearest table. “Hello?” I asked, it was too quiet in the house. There were no sounds coming from the kitchen or smell. No sign that my mother was cooking my favorite meal, we were probably going out to eat. 

Entering the kitchen I saw my parents sitting in chairs and two large men in suits behind them. “What’s going on?” I asked, instantly noticing the tears streaming down my mother’s cheeks. 

My father finally spoke up. “Honey, you’re going to go away for a while.” He wouldn’t dare meet my gaze. 

“Away?” I asked, this was a weird birthday present. “Uh why?” My eyes darted towards the two strangers standing over my parents. 

My mother let out a sob, her hands coming over her face. “What’s going on?” I asked, this wasn’t what I was expecting for my eighteenth birthday. “You guys are scaring me.” 

“Honey, you know how your father has a problem. He did something unspeakable and without my permission or knowledge.” She hiccuped.

I was growing angry as they beat around the bush and wouldn’t spit it out already. Taking a step backwards to run up to my room, my back collided with a larger figure. “Hello, love.” A male’s Scottish accent hit my ears. “The name is Drew.” Spinning around I looked up at the tall man. I noticed how Drew’s hazel eyes darken as he looked at me. “Pretty young thing you are.” He whispered so only I could hear him. 

I blinked at his comment, “Oh hell no.” I instantly knew what was going on as my eyes looked down at the gun tucked away in his waist. With my father’s financial problems and the way this man dressed and looked how he had money. Realizing who Drew was, I whipped my head around, glaring at my father. “You did not fucking pimp me out.” I snarled. 

Drew laughed loudly at my assumption. His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. “Oh on the contrary, doll.” Drew bent down low, his lips near my ear. “You see, your daddy borrowed money from me and we made a deal two years ago on how if he doesn’t pay me back that you’ll mine at legal age.” 

“You bastard!” I screamed at him, tears threatening to spill but I tried holding them back. 

“Shh, love. He’s not worth it.” Drew placed a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from the kitchen and down the hallway towards my room. “I’ll give you ten mintues to pack up and we’re leaving for good.” Drew’s voice was giving off a warning sound as if saying ‘don’t do anything stupid’. Nodding I turned around, entering my room and slamming it shut. Tears streamed down my face as I realized what was happening. My father sold my life because he was in debt. 

Quickly gather clothes and other things I could think of and shove it into my bag. Opening the door I stormed out, slightly jumping to see Drew leaning against the wall. “You’re already done?” He asked. Nodding, I walked past him. “That was only like three minutes.” Drew checked his watch that was wrapped around his wrist, arching his eyebrow.

“Just get me the fuck out of here.” I demanded, not even thinking what Drew’s plans with me were. 

“Melody, wait.” My mother sobbed out, trying to get my attention before I left the house. Ignoring her pleas and cries I stepped out of the house. I didn’t even notice the large black SUV with tinted windows until now. 

“Right this way, love.” Drew placed his large hand on my lower back and guided me to the vehicle. Drew reached his free hand and opened the door. Climbing in, I scooted to the farthest seat, my attention towards the window. 

“I’ll pay him back sweetheart, don’t you worry!” Was all I heard my father yell. 

My eyes were everywhere in the large house that Drew was guiding me through. I looked at all of the expensive and unique paintings hanging on the wall, large soft rugs stretched on the marble floor. I was so distracted, I wasn’t even paying attention to his words. “And this is your room.” Drew pushed open the door. The bedroom walls were dipping in my favorite color along with the covers on the bed. It was much larger than the room I had back at home. Drew took my things from me as I explored the room, there was a large bathroom connected to my room. 

As I walked back into my room, I saw Drew searching through my things. “What are you doing?” I asked. He tossed my clothes around until he found what he was looking for, my laptop. 

“Don’t need this.” He flashed the only nice thing I had in my life.

“Hey- wait no! I need it for class.” I frowned, trying to reach it but he raised it higher for me not to grab. Damn his tallness.

“I can’t have you blabbing about my secrets now, love.” Drew informed me, raising it higher as I tried to climb on his large form.

“I won’t, I promise!” I begged, my eyes looking back at the laptop. 

Drew grabbed my chin, the pad of his thumb rubbed against my cheek. “Sleep now, love. You’ve had a busy day.” He whispered. Brushing his thumb over my plump bottom lip his eyes looked at my mouth and back up at my eyes. He leaned downwards, his soft lips pressing against mine, leaving a small kiss. I didn’t even know if I kissed back or not I was too shocked. Pulling away he licked his lips as if he was getting the rest of my taste off of his mouth. “Rest, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Drew promised. With that he turned on the heel of his nice black dress shoes and left my room. 

That night I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was being in a new environment, the fact that I’ll probably never see my mother again or it was the memorizing kiss Drew planted on me before he left. Laying in bed, I stared at the white ceiling above me. The kiss kept playing in my head, over and over again. Squirming underneath the blankets I froze, I was getting wet from the event that happened hours ago. Swallowing thickly, I ran my dominant hand down my body. Shivering from my own touch I exhaled shallowly as I reached my soaking entrance. 

A soft whimper escaped my lips as I touched my sensitive clit. How could I get wet at the thought of kissing my kidnapper, a total stranger to me! Tossing my head back into the soft plush pillows as my index finger entered me. My tightness wrapped around the single digit. Slowly pushing and pulling my finger in and out of my pussy, I slowly sped up the pace. Flashes of Drew filled my head, how he towered over me, how built he was. His suit stretched as his muscles flexed with each movement he made. Remembering how his eyes looked at me over everything I did. 

My pussy clenched around my finger, I was close. Panting heavily, I used my other hand to play with my clit. The last memory I had with Drew struck my mind. His lips soft against mine, how they moved against me and held me close to his large body. My orgasm hit in an instant, the hand that was playing with my clit flew up to my mouth, muffling my moans as I overcame my climax. 

Panting, I slowly pulled my finger out and laid in bed, calming myself down. Once I came down from my high I pulled the blankets off my sweaty body. Rolling out of bed, I decided to roam the empty halls. Slowly opening my door, I peaked my head out looking up and down the dark hallway. Seeing no one about, I slipped out of my room. The large house seemed a bit spookier with no lights on. 

My feet pitter pattered down the hallway on the cold marble floor, I slightly cursed at myself for not wearing socks. Making a right turn I ended up in the kitchen. My stomach growled, realizing I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. Then again how could I eat after all of the events that happened. Walking towards the fridge, I open the door. Squinting as the bright light inside blinded me, I looked at all of the options. I’ve never had this amount of food to pick, we didn’t have much back at my house. Grabbing a water bottle and a container of strawberries, I turned around and jumped at the figure behind me. “Can’t sleep?” His soothing accent filled the kitchen, bouncing off the walls and hitting my ears. 

“No.” I murmured, moving past him and placing my small snack on the counter. Opening the water I took a few gulps.

“Well, sounds like to me you were having a nightmare.” A slight smirk appeared on his face as I choked.  Drew walked closer to me, nearly hovering as his lips grazed my ear. “My room is next to yours and the walls are very thin.” Shivering at his deep voice I finally had the courage to look up at him. “Tell me, bana-phrionnsa” he placed his large hand underneath my chin. “What made you moan ever so sweetly, hmm?” Drew asked, eyeing my appearance. “And don’t lie, I know the sounds of a naughty girl masturbating when I hear one.”

My face became bright red, I nearly forgot how to speak as he made my body tremble just by the way he was speaking. “I- I…” My mouth became dry even though I just drank the cold liquid. Swallowing my nervousness. “What does b- bana-” Before I botched the word Drew chuckled deeply and cut me off. 

“Bana-phrionnsa, means princess in my country.” He stroked his soft finger against my cheek. “You’re my bana-phrionnsa.” He hummed, leaning down he pressed his forehead against mine. “Do you like it when I call you my bana-phrionnsa?” 

I had no words, he was speaking so sweet to me. Even though I knew what and who he was I couldn’t help but to eat up his words. I nodded, not wanting to embarrass myself. I saved my words. 

“So tell me, what made you moan so loudly tonight?” He questioned, pulling his head away. He wasn’t going to give up on this question.

“You, I was thinking about you.” I breathed out. 

Drew smiled as I finally admitted it and stopped dodging his question. “Is that so?” He licked his lips. His muscular arm pushed the bottle of water and container of strawberries off of the counter, making them fall onto the floor. He gripped my waist, picking me up and placing me on the cold, smooth surface of the counter top. “And what were you thinking about me?” He growled, eyes darkening slightly. Drew leaned into me, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. 

“Please don’t make me say it.” I whined, embarrassed. I cried out in pleasure as Drew bit down on my flesh where my neck and shoulder met, his warm hand slipped underneath my shirt, cupping my breast. 

Suckling hard, Drew pulled away from the dark hickey he left. “Say it.” He pinched and tweaked at my nipple. 

“You fucking me! I thought about you thrusting your cock in me.” I moaned as he switched onto my other breast. 

“Hmm, good girl.” Drew whispered huskily. He pulled his hand out from under my shirt which made me whimper from the loss of contact. Drew gripped the bottom of my night shirt, tossing it over my head he threw it behind him. His eyes darkened at the sight of my bare chest, his 

hazel eyes scanned over my half naked body. “Stunning.” He hummed, leaning down he latched his mouth around my left nipple. Suckling and lightly biting, his hand started to play with my right breasts. 

Tossing my head back, I moaned in pure bliss. My hands gripped at his long dark hair, giving it a slight tug. Drew pulled away slightly from my chest, soft moans left his mouth from my actions. He left a kiss trail as he made his way to my other breast. Doing the same thing, sucking and flicking his tongue over my hardening nipple, I grew wetter in my panties. 

Drew pulled away from my tender chest, he grabbed his dark shirt and pulled it over his head. My eyes traveled over his body, his biceps flexed as he tossed his shirt to the side, chest strong along with his chiseled abs across his stomach. He obviously never misses a day at the gym. Drew grabbed my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the counter. His fingers dipped in the hem of my pajama pants, pulling them down my legs along with my panties. I shivered slightly as the cold countertop touched my bare ass. 

“Oh my sweet, Melody.” Drew’s husky voice rang in my ear. Looking up at him, I caught him licking his lips. “I don’t know whether to eat you out or fuck you full of my come.” Drew chewed on the inside of his cheek as if he was making a decision. 

My heart hammered against my chest, no man had ever shown how much he wanted me before. Growing the courage, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. “You can eat me out whenever I need you.” I pouted, my eyes glossy as I looked over his features. As if he couldn’t believe the mouth I had on me. 

“Whatever my bana-phrionnsa wants.” Drew smiled. His large hands left my waist and started to push his pants and boxers down his muscular legs. My eyes widen slightly at the sight of his large cock twitching against his lower fit stomach. He grabbed underneath my chin, lifting my attention to his face. “It’ll fit.” Drew smirked, my reaction to his cock must have been concerning. 

Drew placed his hands on top of my thighs. Drew had surprisingly soft hands for being a killer. I wondered how many people he’s killed, if not him how many people he’s ordered to have killed. Knowing he’s in the mob life he’s broken the law many times, not only killing being on top of the list. Being a mobster also had perks, money, cars and women. Swallowing thickly, my mind thought about his sex life, how many women has he fucked? As I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize Drew spread my legs and dipped two of his fingers into my dripping cunt. “Ah!” I squealed in surprise as he slowly pulled out. He brought his glistening finger to his mouth. Wrapping his lips around his finger, he sucked off my juices. “Hmm.” He growled, slowly pulling his digits out of his mouth. “Taste so fucking devine.” He purred. “You sure you don’t want me to eat you out?” Drew teased, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. 

“I’m sure, now please fuck me.” I begged, my legs still spread. My juices dripped down onto the surface of the counter. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely.” Drew fitted in between my thighs, he grabbed underneath my knees and wrapped my legs around his waist. His raging cock throbbing with need. Drew grabbed the base of his cock, pumping his dick a few times in his hand. Guiding his mushroom tip against my entrance he slowly pushed in me. My hands grabbed at his swole shoulders, digging my nails into his tan flesh. 

“Fuck.” Drew hissed out, not just because of the stinging pain in his shoulders, but my pussy wrapped so tightly around his tip. Drew slowly pushed his hips against mine, his cock sinking inside of my cunt. 

“K- Keep going, don’t stop.” I moaned, resting my head against his slightly hairy chest, my eyes shut tightly. He didn’t stop one beat as his cock slowly inched his way deeper. 

Drew exhaled loudly, now balls deep inside of me. He growled lowly as my pussy fluttered around his cock. “I need to move.” His hands resting on my waist. 

My head snapped up, my eyes full of lust. “Then fucking move.” I demanded. Drew flashed a devilish smirk towards me, showing his white teeth. Pulling his cock half way out of me, he thrust back inside. I whimpered as his rigid cock hit a different angle this time. 

“So fucking tight.” Drew huffed a low howl as he kept thrusting. Drew looked down, watching his glistening cock fuck in and out of his lovers pussy. Drew looked at me, watching my face twist in bliss and pleasure, he couldn’t help but smile. “I can tell you’re close, bana-phrionnsa.” Drew dug his fingers into her hips, leaving bruises. “Hold it for me, Melody. Just a little longer.” Drew announced as his cock slipped in and out at a faster pace than before. 

The kitchen was full of hot sex sounds, moans and whimpering along with dirty talking and skin slapping against skin. The wetness of my pussy squelched with each thrust Drew did, making me blush. “I- I can’t hold on much longer.” I warned, my stomach tightening with each thrust Drew pushed into me. Everything Drew was doing made my body hot and bothered. His touches, the way he’d angle his cock differently with each thrust. Drew leaned down, his heavy breathing hitting my ear. 

“Be a good girl and wait.” He growled, his lips latching onto my neck, suckling hard he growled as he left hickies. I gritted my teeth slightly as my orgasm became closer and closer as Drew fucked me faster and harder. 

“I- I can’t hold it!” I cried out, hot tears slid down my cheeks as I held my orgasm back. Feeling Drew’s cock twitch inside my walls, I nearly exploded. 

“Come, fucking come all over my cock Melody.” Drew demanded, his heavy balls emptying his seed inside of me. Feeling his warm come enter my body, triggered my climax. My eyes fluttered shut as my body shook from the intenseness. Screaming out Drews name, I raked my nails down his arm, leaving marks. Drew hissed at the slight pain, pumping his cock a few more times in me, pusing his load deeper.

As we came down from our high and caught our breaths, Drew rested his sweaty forehead against my shoulder. The scottish mobster mumbled something I didn’t catch. “W- What?” I asked slightly out of breath. 

He brought his head up, repeating what he said. “Marry me.” Drew looked down at me as if he was staring into my soul.

“Marry you?” I choked out, this man took me from my family because of my father’s debt. “I… “ I looked away from him. “I don’t know what to say.” I mumbled, looking at the shiny floor, it must have been cleaned earlier today. 

“Say yes.” Drew spoke softly, grabbing my jaw and making me look at him. “You’re all I’ve ever thought about.” Drew confessed. “I visited your father when you were a minor, warning him about his debt. Melody, your father had two years to pay me back and he never did, I took you away from that abuse. I saw your phone on the shelf and I fell in love with you.” He rubbed his thumb against my cheek. “I had plans for you.” Drew looked down, his soft cock still in me.

Two and two clicked, my eyes widened as I realized he wasn’t wearing protection. “You had planned to get me pregnant?” I swallowed thickly. 

“I mean, this wasn’t planned.” Drew cleared his throat. “I was planning on taking you on our wedding night but hearing you moaning in your room I couldn’t stop myself.” Drew was still caressing my face. “I’ll make a deal with you.” 

“Yeah, like you did with my dad?” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my breasts, trying to hide myself. 

“Don’t be like that.” Drew warned, he gave me a slight glare. It was best to keep business and relationship problems separate. “If you marry me, you can see your family whenever you want.” Drew promised. 

Biting my lower lip, I thought about it. Marrying a handsome Scottish mobster that was also great at sex along with seeing my family or don’t marry him and he could possibly do the worst to me. Biting my cheek I weighed my pros and cons. 

“You don’t have to answer now-”

“Yes.” I quickly said, meeting his eyes. Drew blinked as if he didn’t understand. 

“What?” He questioned.

I smiled softly at his confusion, I played with the tips of his hair flowing over his shoulder. “I said yes.” 

“You sure you don’t want to think-”

I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes to him wanting to be respectful and wanting me to think about my answer. “I said yes, I want to marry you. Now, where’s my ring?” I giggled.

Drew McIntryre's Masterlist

[dirtywresling102]

Pleasurable Mistakes - Jey Uso (18+)

Pairing: Jey Uso x Female!Reader

Summary: The reader gets caught having a intimate moment in Jey's room.

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Minors DNI, Smut, Fingering, Masturbation

Word Count: 3,578

Follow My Main Blog!: @dirtywrestling

“Once we graduate, we should totally get an apartment together to save money!” Jey smiled widely, his voice slightly cracking with excitement.

“Yeah! When you’re off traveling for the WWE, I’ll stay and take care of the apartment! It’ll totally save up money.”

“Can we get a dog?” Jey pointed out.

“How about a cat?” You persuaded.

“I can work with a cat.” Jey grinned.

“God, why don’t you two get married already.” Jimmy, Jey’s twin, spoke up. You and Jey gave each other weird looks before looking at Jimmy across the lunch table. 

“We’re not getting married.” Jey laughed.

“Yeah, we’re thinking financially, you know once we graduate high school you actually can’t really live on your own in this economy and the way it’s going.” You picked through your school lunch, regretting not taking your car to school so you could have left for lunch and get Taco Bell. It was such a nice day and your mother insisted you walk.

“Whatever, when I graduate I’m going to get into the WWE, find myself a hot wife and buy a house.” Jimmy nodded with a smirk on his lips.

“You, a hot wife?” You laughed. “You can’t even find a hot girlfriend.” 

Jey laughed along with you as Jimmy gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes with an embarrassed blush on his face, grabbing his lunch tray as he stood up from the table. “Whatever! You’ll see, Y/N, you’ll all see!” Jimmy stormed towards the trash cans, tossing whatever food he didn’t eat and headed towards his homeroom to sit and brew.

Jimmy in fact did show you, he got into the wrestling industry, trained hard and got himself in the WWE, it wasn’t long until he had a nice looking lady on his side and within a few years he proposed. You also showed Jimmy, you were correct all those years ago about the economy not getting any better, taxes were up, and so were milk, gas and rent in the nice city of Miami you grew up in, but you and Jey stuck to your word.

Right after graduation, you lived under your parents roof a little longer until the following year, once money was saved up you and Jey went on with your plan and placed a down payment on an apartment with a nice view of the Atlantic ocean. Popping open champagne on the first night in the apartment, you and Jey stood on the balcony, watching the waves of the ocean roll in and the moon high in the sky reflecting in the water. 

Glass in hand you stared off into the distance and on instinct, you placed your head upon Jey’s broad shoulder. “We did it.” You sighed happily.

“Yeah, we did.” Jey maneuvered his glass into his other hand while his right hand wrapped around your waist which immediately sparked something in you.

As the years passed, Jey went into some training along with his brother and they were immediately signed to the WWE, possibly because they were a package pair or because their father was also Rikishi some would argue but you’d always back them up and say they were there due to their hard work. 

Watching Jey and Jimmy take their career higher and higher every Friday Night made you a little closer to the brothers. Even though Jey was never home regularly he still made sure to text and call daily whether it be checking up on you or giving you an update on where he was at and when he’d be coming home. It made your heart swell knowing he was thinking of you but it also feared you. What was he doing when on the road? Was he at bars? Was he fucking women while celebrating his wins?

Then again, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you never asked any personal questions. You never pushed him when he came home, wanting to know all the details on what he did while traveling knowing he was too tired to do anything when he came home, bags in the living room and him collapsing on the couch. 

“So, any plans for tonight?” Jey asked through the phone that you held against your ear while typing a paper out for work. 

“Me? Plans on a Saturday night? Psh.” You scoffed following it with a laugh as you skimmed through the pages. “I’m just finishing this report for work, take a shower, have a glass of wine and most likely watch a show.” 

“Boring!” Jey sang loudly to where you had to pull the phone away with a smile. “You should enjoy yourself, go to the club and have men buy you drinks!” 

You could hear the playfulness in Jey’s voice but you couldn’t help but to frown, you wanted him to buy you drinks and take you to the club, not some strange man grinding against you and trying to get you drunk to have his way with you. Shaking your head you cleared your throat, shutting your laptop. “I’m good.” You reassured.

“Your Saturday night, princess. Spend it however you want.” 

You broke out in goosebumps at the pet name he gave you, wishing he really meant it and not in a sarcastic way. “I will, thank you.” You placed your laptop on top of the coffee table. 

“Well, don’t have too much fun with Mr. Whiskers. No parties.” Jey teased.

“No parties, I promise.” You laughed, just on cue yours and Jey’s gray tabby cat Mr. Whiskers jumped on the couch and started to make biscuits on the cushion. “Where are you anyway?”

“We just got to the airport, it shouldn’t be a long flight but I’ll be home soon. Oh, we’re actually boarding the flight right now, so I’ll talk to you later.” Jey said.

“Okay.” You bit your lip. “Oh and Jey?”

“Yeah, Y/N?”��

It was silent, you didn’t follow up with anything, your stomach twisted, you wanted to tell him how much you missed him and how excited you are to see him again after being on the road for months. “N- Nothing, never mind. Safe travels.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.” 

With that the phone beeped a few times showing that the call ended. Sighing out loud you set your phone down next to you. “Well, Mr. Whiskers look like it’s just us for a bit.” You looked over at him at the other side of the couch to see he was already curled up and fast asleep. “I guess it’s just me.” Getting up you went to the kitchen, grabbing a meal prep from the freezer and heated it up.

Chowing down on the rice and chicken with a side of veggies you tossed the plastic container in the sink reminding yourself to wash it in the morning. Tidying a bit around the apartment you wanted to make the place look nice when Jey arrived. Placing the vacuum back and all the cleaning supplies in their rightful place you exhaled a tired breath, looking around the spotless apartment. 

Satisfied with how everything looked, you made your way towards the bathroom, turning the light on and shutting the door behind you, you looked in the mirror. Dark circles were under your eyes as your hair was in a messy bun from a long day's work. You started to strip from your street clothes. Making your way to the shower you started it up, getting it to the temperature you wanted.

The steam started to roll immediately showing that the water was getting warm quickly. Stepping out of your panties and tossing your bra in the pile you pulled back the curtain and stepped into the water. “Shit.” You hissed, quickly reaching for the cold knob and turning it to balance the temperature. 

Humming softly as the water turned more comfortable to your liking, you bowed your head underneath it, letting it spray down on you and roll down your back. Goosebumps broke out as the water strolled down your body and the steam danced along your nipples, making them hard. 

Shivering at the sensation your mind went to Jey. Leaning against the tile wall with your eyes closed you slowly started to realize how much you missed Jey’s smile, his laugh along how he’d watch you everytime you cracked a joke or how his muscles would tighten and ripple from the pushups and situps he’d do in the living room. 

Your teeth nipped at your bottom lip as you started to think more of Jey in a sexual way. You’ve never seen what he was packing under his pants but you knew by the way he walked he had some size. 

Your fingers danced along your stomach, making their way south of your body and cupping your hot sex. Exhaling a soft breath, the tip of your index finger and middle finger swirled around your sensitive clit. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself out loud. Applying more pressure to your clit, you bite your lip harder imagining it being Jey’s hand toying with you. “Jey, please. Put it in.” You whined, your fingers still teasing your clit, slowly picking up the pace. 

Your cunt clenched around nothing, your stomach slowly started to tighten as you built your orgasm. Finally deciding to back off from your clit, your two fingers slowly traced your lips, collecting your dripping juices. “Oh Jey.” You said softly. Slowly inching your fingers up into your entrance, your cunt tightly wrapped around your digits as they sunk deeper inside. Your mouth collected saliva as the delicious pleasure started to drive up your spine. 

Slowly dragging your two digits out you plunged them back inside of you letting out a soft moan, echoing in the bathroom. Your wrist started to ache but that didn’t stop you from picking up the pace. Your fingers quickly pushed in and out of your slippery cunt, your walls squeezing and sucking your fingers back in with a warm squelchy welcome. 

Your thoughts ran wild as you imagine Jey, naked behind you grabbing your neck with his other hand while his free hand finger fucked you. “God, Jey. Gonna come.” You moaned out, your walls fluttering around your cunt. The warm water still sprayed from the head of the shower down onto your bare breasts as you tossed your head back against the tile wall with a loud ‘thud’.

The wetness of your cunt and your panting moans mixed in the air with the steam rolling around the hot shower. Your orgasm came quickly, coming undone on your fingers as they dripped with your creamy color. “Holy fuck.” You panted, resting against the cool wall with the mixture of the hot water made goosebumps rise on your skin again.

Slowly pulling your drenched fingers out from your aching pussy, you rinsed them off underneath the shower and finished up washing your hair and body. Once you rinsed yourself off, you turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. 

Feeling much better after a little time, you stepped out of the bathroom, steam rolling past your ankles into the hallway. You held the towel around your body tight and started to make your way towards your bedroom. Stopping in front of a closed door, you looked at it. Jey’s room. You never went in when he was out traveling, you respected his privacy too much to even step one foot inside when he wasn’t home. 

‘Don’t you miss his smell, though?’ A small voice in the back of your head announced.

You did miss his smell. The strong cologne he wore was always your favorite, smelling like hickory and vanilla. You squeezed your thighs together as your core grew warmer at the thought of smelling his pillows real quick. Looking towards the front door to see it was still locked and no sign of anyone coming in, you grabbed the door knob and twisted it, pushing the door open. 

Standing in the hallway you looked inside the dark room, flicking the switch on the room soon became bright and showed off his wrestling memorabilia. His room was neat and clean, dressers dusted and tidy along with the large flat screen tv hanging from the wall and his gaming system hooked up to it. You eyed his dirty laundry, seeing a sweater hanging from the side of the hamper. 

Stripping your towel off, you let it drop to the floor, pooling around your feet. Stepping out of it, you grabbed the black hoodie, holding it tight and inhaling his scent. Moaning softly you remembered he wore this sweater when he was making a protein shake after his gym workout. The memory made you smile as you slipped it on over your head and now covered your upper half and slightly some of your lower half. 

You inched your way to his bed, seeing how he neatly tucked his sheets in and the bed comforter pressed firmly with no wrinkles. You instantly ruined it as you laid on top of his made bed, his scent wafting in the air hitting your nostrils. Humming at the smell of Jey your brain became fuzzy and warm along with your cunt slowly started to throb again, wanting to be full once more.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you shouldn’t be in his room especially when he was on his way home. You nuzzled your head back into the soft pillows, gripping the chest of his sweater and bringing it to your nose you inhaled deeply once more. Memories of Jey flooded your mind as your heart hammered in your chest and cunt started to drip again. You needed another round to calm you down and this time in his bed. 

Your right hand slowly traveled down your stomach like before. You skipped past your clit, not wanting to tease yourself anymore as your fingers pressed against your soaking entrance you pushed past your folds with no hesitation. “Fuck, Jey!” You cried out, arching your back as your two fingers plunged in and out of your pussy. Your eyes closed tight as your head tossed back into the pillow even more.

Jaw slack and mouth hung open, your fingers scissored deeper into your pussy but it just wasn’t enough. You needed another, your ring finger pressed against your middle and inched itself past your tight walls. “Y- Yes, more, more, fuck Jey I want more!” As you had three fingers inside your cunt, fucking yourself, your lower stomach tightened, you could see Jey behind your eye lids, he was there above you fucking you raw and moaning with you. “Yes, Jey. Please ‘Mmm close.” You sobbed.

As your orgasm was about to ripple through your body you heard your name being shouted, your eyes snapped open while your fingers quickly drove out of your wet cunt as you quickly sat up in the messy slightly damp bed. There stood Jey, suitcase by his side with wide eyes and jaw dropped. 

“J- Jey! I can explain!” You grabbed the hem of the black sweater you wore and tugged it down your lower half to hide your dripping cunt. “I- I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” You apologize, rooted to the bed you couldn’t move but just say how sorry you were. You disrespected him, his privacy, his bed, the friendship. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you see Jey not moving from the spot.

“So,” Jey’s tongue darted past his plumped lips. “You play with yourself in my bed instead of throwing parties while I’m gone.” 

Still too scared to even realize Jey was joking you choked out a ‘no’.

“I must admit, this is a better sight to come home to instead of a loud party.” Jey smirked, his dark hooded eyes ran over your body. 

“Y- You’re- You’re not mad?” You hiccuped, tears running down your cheeks. 

Jey’s hands started to fiddle with his belt and unbutton his pants. “Does this look like I’m mad?” As he finished his words, he pushed down his pants along with his boxers, his hard cock sprung upwards, hitting his stomach. 

“Oh my god- Jey!” You quickly shielded your eyes, looking away from him in respect. “I- I.”

You heard more shuffling being done towards the doorway and felt the bed dip on the opposite side you were looking from. “Hey, Y/N.” Jey grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from your face. “Please, Y/N, I need to know if you really want this, if you want me.” He whispered ‘me’ softly. 

Finally opening your eyes to see Jey fully naked laying right next to you had your face heating up, your best friend caught you masturbating in his bed and now he was laying naked next to you. “I- I do want it, Jey. I’m so sorry for- for doing this in your bed.” You sniffed.

Jey had a large smile plastered on his face and tossed his head back slightly with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting it but I much do love coming home with you on my bed fucking yourself silly on your fingers.” He groaned the last part. You caught how his dick twitched as he spoke. 

“Then yes, please Jey, I want you. I want all of you.” You begged him. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” Jey leaned forward, his lips crashing against yours in a hot kiss. Your lips moved along with his as he slowly guided himself on top of you, wedging in between your legs and making sure not to crush you with his full weight. “Been wanting to be in between these legs.” Jey said in between kisses. “Deep inside this pussy.” He moaned.

You whined against his lips, wishing you did this little stunt nearly ten years earlier but always too scared not knowing if he felt the same way you did. “Please, Jey. I’ve waited long enough, give it to me.” 

Jey shivered at your words, looking down, his hard cock was poking against your thigh, twitching in anticipation to be inside of you. Jey’s hand went in between your bodies as he gripped the thick base of his cock and slowly nudged the tip of his cock against your still wet pussy. You both exhaled a satisfying breath as he sank deeper inside of you with ease due to you preparing yourself for the past hour. 

“You feel so fucking good, snug around my dick.” Jey moaned. “Were you getting this pretty little pussy ready for my fat cock?”

Too dazed to even speak, you nodded with soft moans leaving your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist as he started to swirl his hips in a circular motion. “Hmm, Jey.” You moaned, enjoying how his cock stretched you wider. 

Jey’s moans rang in your ear, making your cunt grip his cock tighter in a reaction you didn’t expect. “Fuck, darling yes.” Jey hissed through gritted teeth as he started to rut his hips against you, his cock pushing deeper inside of you with every thrust. As he pulled his cock out it was slow, slightly painful but soon pleasure rushed through your body as he pushed back in. 

“Jey!” You screamed as his pace started to pick up in a sloppy manner. 

“You sound so fucking sweet, scream for me baby.” Jey panted, his wet cock slipping in and out of your tight channel. ‘Fucks’ and ‘shits’ escaped both of your mouths as both of your orgasm started to approach. 

“I- I’m close Jey!” You warned as your vision slightly blurred and the coil in your stomach started to tighten. “I want- want your come baby, I want your come!” You begged, rolling your hips against each of his thrusts. 

Jey nearly stopped his movements as he groaned lowly. “N- No! Please, fuck please don’t stop.”

“Fuck, the way you did that, shit.” He breathed out, his hips started to pump inside of you again. 

“That’s it, right there!” You cried out, closing your eyes tight you saw bright lights explode as your orgasm went over the edge, taking control of your body. “J- Jey!” You screamed.

“Yeah baby, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jey moaned, his cock drilling into your sore cunt, sloppy wet sounds and skin against skin roared in the room along with his bed frame racking up against the wall loudly. 

His warm seed exploded inside your tight cunt as he tossed his head back, moaning. A thick vein appeared in his throat, pulsing as he panted heavily. 

“Hmm, oh fuck.” You moaned, wiggling against his stilled hips to feel yourself full of his come. “Big load.” You teased, feeling your pussy swallow his thick come. 

“You have no idea.” Jey panted, hinting that it’s been awhile for him from having sex. 

Jey slowly pulled his cock out from your abused cunt, the creamy liquidy mess dripping from your cunt onto his sheet. Jey didn’t care as he collapsed next to you, eyes closed but you couldn’t help but to stare at him. “How long?” You whispered.

It was silent for sometime as Jey just smiled. “Long.” He whispered back. “Very long.” He licked his lips, still smiling and cracked one eye open. “Since early high school.” 

You couldn’t help but to smile back at him, he wanted you and you wanted him and here you were, finally having each other.

[withinthebrain]

Breakfast at the Campsite

Camping part 2:

I shuffled out of the tent about an hour ago and tossed a log on the fire to get it hot for breakfast. Then, I took a walk along the shoreline, watching the frogs hop into the water.

Returning to camp, I toss a kettle on the fire to make coffee and notice the tent door flapping in the breeze. Inside, your naked body is stretched out on the floor mattress, a hand caressing your thigh.

Watching you stroke your dick is one of my favorite morning scenes. But you are whispering, and that hand on your thigh is not yours. And that cock in your hand is not yours either.

Knowing you are both in plain view, I take a seat and perch the grill tray across the flames. I see your eyes watching me as I reposition my chair to get a better view through the open door. You smirk, eyes on me as I busy myself making breakfast.

From my position, I can see your hips and his. His hand has found its way to your cock, and your hand mirrors his, moving gracefully up and down his shaft.

Bringing the coffee out of the coals, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee mixes with the cool dewy breeze.

Pulling my attention from the tent, I toss the bacon on the grill tray and crack a few eggs into a pan. It does not take long before your low moans grab at my attention. The sounds of bacon popping, fire crackling, birds chirping, and two men moaning might be my new favorite soundtrack.

I glance back occasionally, catching glimpses of your bodies through the open tent flap. The sight of your bodies, the way you respond to each other, it's mesmerizing. My breakfast preparations slow, my focus shifting entirely to the sight before my eyes.

Your naked bodies both positioned against each other, but now, touching yourselves. No longer do your eyes meet mine to see if I am watching, as your movements have synchronized, both of you moving with a steady, hypnotic pulse.

Finally, the sound of your moans peak, giving way to heavy breathing. I turn back to the fire and remove the bacon. You lie there catching your breath and collecting yourselves.

I plate breakfast and pour each of us a cup of coffee. By the time you both emerge, disheveled and half dressed, breakfast is on the picnic table.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

So apparently my little sister found my Tumblr page.,…

Idk what to do with this information

She doesn’t even like wrestling and I write some pretty nasty shit

If you know me irl or my sister sees this, please do me a favour and do not read my shit

I promise you won’t be able to look at me the same 😭

I promise I’m more grossed out that you’re reading this than you

[ireverie]

do you like it, dr. lee?

pairing ↠ jake, jay, jungwon x (f) professor!reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, they’re all twisted but jay is mean asfk, mentions of infidelity, age gap (18+)

summary ↠ jake, jay, and jungwon are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically.

wc ↠ 5.4k

a/n ↠ originally posted on my blog revehae, i am not plagiarizing myself. part 2/3 of the in my blood series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it all happened so fast.

one minute, you were chatting with three of your most wonderful students in your office, and the very next, they had you sprawled out on top of your desk.

your heart was speeding. though you attempted to wrestle your way out of their less than gentle embraces, you couldn’t even take one of them, let alone all three. while somebody was keeping your hands still, another was holding you by the legs.

jay, who had his palm flat over your mouth, only watching your moist, fearfully wide eyes, leaned into your ear and whispered, “scream and we’ll saw your tongue off.”

when he dropped his palm, you sucked in a breath, face tensing with tears as you willed yourself to be compliant. your head was spinning, dizzy with shock. what was happening to you was unfathomable. these boys were some of your favorite students, the ones who never failed to perform magnificently on the exams, and were sparkling in class.

you felt betrayed, in a way. even your worst-performing student wouldn’t stoop this low, and in the midst of your fright, you wondered what you had done to deserve the atrocity that was today. if there was anybody that you could count on to make you feel as if your dedication to this job wasn’t completely useless, it was these boys.

jake was standing just shy of you, eyes fixed to that knee-length skirt he loved watching you wear. jay chuckled when he noticed where his friend’s gaze had fallen, because he found himself glancing there too, but usually when you were facing away from your students.

he always thought about getting you naked, seeing your ass without anything to hinder his view. more often than not, jay fisted himself to the thought of stuffing your ass full of his thick cock, wondering if anybody had ever fucked you there.

snapping out of his imagination, jake approached you, shoving your long skirt closer to your hips. instinctively, the first thing you did was try to protect yourself, but jungwon grabbed you and ceased all control. you slumped, whimpering defeatedly, “boys, please stop. you know that i have a husband.”

jake snickered, amused that that was the card you chose to play. “didn’t really look like you cared about your husband when you were fucking my dad,” he retorted.

rather than beat even quicker, it felt as if your heart stilled. “what?”

jay laughed boisterously. “would you look at that. she thinks you don’t know.”

“that’s right, baby,” jake replied menacingly, nothing affectionate about his tone, in spite of the pet name. “you run your mouth and we’ll make sure the whole school knows that you can’t stop spreading your legs for my father.”

donning the sweetest tone, jungwon crooned in your ear, “and you wouldn’t want that, right, sweetheart? you wouldn’t want mr. lee to know that his wife isn’t satisfied with just his cock, is she now?”

it felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet. jake was sunghoon’s son, the offspring of the man you had been hooking up with behind your husband’s back, and now he and his friends were threatening to expose your affair if you refused to let them have their way with you.

your lips were trembling. this is all your fault, you chided to yourself. if you could’ve just been a faithful wife, a committed woman, none of this would be happening. they would have nothing against you, nothing that would stop you from reporting to the closest figure of authority. but you had too much at stake.

though you were no stranger to jay’s short patience, you had never seen it manifest quite like this before, gripping your hair so roughly you whimpered in a blend of pain and shock. he growled, “he asked you a question. i shouldn’t have to tell you that that called for an answer.”

“no,” you replied shakily.

jay’s grip only tightened and he pressed, “no, what?”

“no, i don’t want him to know…,” you trailed, because it was humiliating to repeat back aloud, but jay was still gazing at you expectantly. “that i’m not satisfied with just his cock.”

“see, that wasn’t so hard. don’t be a little bitch and make things more complicated than they have to be,” jay said, releasing his hold on your hair. you would’ve fallen back had not jungwon been there to catch you, only to then grab the little buttons on your blouse. “we’re doing you a favor, really. it’s a three for one deal. a little whore like you should be excited.”

but you didn’t want them, you didn’t even want your husband. you wanted sunghoon. it made you wonder how they knew of the affair, because jake seemed oblivious only a couple of weeks ago. he referred to you as some fucking nurse sunghoon had flirted with, not his molecular biology professor.

for fuck’s sake, you were a solid decade older than them. granted, sunghoon was at least a decade older than you, though there was a discernible difference between the age gap between the two of you and the gap between you and your undergraduate students. 

your button-up blouse finally came undone and jungwon didn’t waste a breath before he snatched off your bra, eager to suck your breasts into his mouth. you gasped out when he did, his tongue darting around your nipples. in the same way, jake yanked your panties off, cupping between your legs without a second thought.

never in your life had you felt more defenseless, powerless. stripped of all autonomy and forced to let other people have their wicked ways with you. you felt nothing short of violated and it made you sick to your stomach, gut tossing and churning with reproach.

through your stinging eyes, blurry with hot tears, you watched jake sink to his knees in front of your desk. you weren’t particularly enthusiastic about how exposed you were, your breasts out and your skirt bunched just above your thighs. it felt like the closest thing to walking around the plaza half-naked.

obviously, you felt more watched than you would’ve had it just been one of them, but you were at the mercy of three guys that were paying a godawful amount of attention to your bare figure. jungwon was fixed to your perky chest and jay was watching jake situate himself between your legs, holding them open for his friend in case you wanted to be defiant.

“jake, i don’t want this,” you whined, wiping your face with the back of your hand. 

“that’s too bad, baby.” jake wasn’t even looking at you, gaze locked on your pussy, like that was what you were reduced to. “don’t worry, it’ll feel good.”

you sucked in another gasp when his mouth angled towards your pussy without affording you a notice in advance, your body’s natural instinct being to shut your legs, but jay was still holding them in place and he was infinitely stronger than you. with the vigorous training that it took to be a member of the campus’ athletic teams, it came to you as no shock, but you were heavily disappointed.

jake’s tongue singled out your clit while he lapped at you, ravenous. the second he saw you on the first day of class, he knew that he had to have you. so when he found out that you were sleeping with his father, cheating on your husband with jake’s dad of all people, he became furious. 

neither you or sunghoon were as good at keeping secrets as you thought yourselves to be. on more than one occasion, jake saw you leaving their house. every now and then, he would see your name on his father’s phone. and it wasn’t fair. if anybody could please you, if anybody could bring you to heaven and back, it was the boy with his head buried between your legs.

as if matters couldn’t get any worse, jake actually seemed to know what he was doing. though you would never admit it to his face, the way he was sucking at your bundle of nerves had you throbbing, pulsing involuntarily around nothing. you whimpered and whined, but chewed on your bottom lip to stifle the noise.

jungwon chuckled so quietly it was barely audible, but said nothing as of right now, cupping your tits in his palms and squeezing. his patience was much less limited than jay’s, who was currently shifting out of his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock. you saw him in the corner of your misty eyes, noticing how rigid and thick his cock was, but said nothing.

what you didn’t expect, though probably should have seen coming, was for him to start jacking himself to the sight of you being mishandled. jake wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment you locked eyes. matter of fact, that mutual pining was the common denominator of this little team.

all three of them were sick in the head, out of their minds obsessed with you. you would have expected some lethal kind of rivalry to develop out of that, but instead, they were much more menacing about it. they were helping each other get what they wanted.

you were a little overwhelmed from all the attention and jay wasn’t even touching you, but just knowing that he was stroking his cock for you was more than a little unnerving. jungwon’s hands were so strangely gentle, setting a pattern as he groped you, all the while jake was eating you out vigorously.

“pretty, pretty. so pretty when you cry,” jungwon sang in a way that could’ve been kind, if you ignored the nature of what was happening to you. then, like he knew your secret and was implying that he wouldn’t tell, he whispered for only your ears, “pretty when you lie, too.”

it wasn’t fair. you didn’t want to like this, just like how you didn’t want to be aroused. but when jake pushed a pair of fingers inside of your pussy you gushed and tightened around his digits. you were so unstill, it drove him mad, prompting him to go harder.

your brain was empty but racing all the while, thinking, this is so fucking wrong. you were fucking his father, for crying out loud, and even that was wrong. you didn’t care then, so according to their logic, it shouldn’t have made a difference now.

jake and jay’s grunts blended into one giant cacophony of sound, jake moaning with a mouthful of pussy because he couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted and your pussy was spasming around his digits, whereas jay was grunting because he thought you were most right now when you were deprived of all control.

blood was pumping quicker than ever through your veins, your heart screaming for survival. you weren’t even remotely in control of your own body anymore, seized not only by your three reckless students, but the pleasure burning through you like wildfire.

your office, that was typically admirably ventilated, seemed to hot to breathe in. but your breaths became quicker and shorter, as if there was no space in your lungs, and you started to feel the sweat cooling down your back, reminding you of how naked you were.

jake was so hard, stiffening in his pants the longer he watched you start to unravel, and he could’ve probably gotten off just from making you cum. you were grinding your hips against his mouth, and his long, slender fingers that were surely getting you there. you might not have wanted to confess the truth, but your body couldn’t lie.

“she’s so close,” jay commented with a chuckle, addressing you as if you weren’t even there. “fuck, i am too.”

a hole of negative emotions opened then and there and swallowed you whole, namely guilt and humiliation. you didn’t want jake to make you cum, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure, but that ship had already sailed. 

nonetheless, you parted your lips and begged in between shaky moans, “jake, stop. please, i’m begging you!”

“he’s not going to stop, sweetheart,” jungwon crooned, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “don’t you see? he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. you should feel so good about yourself.”

few things in life had ever made you feel this conflicted. on the one hand, this was degrading on way too many levels and you felt forcibly stripped of all of your dignity. but on the other, deep down inside, the sight of jake with his head between your thighs as he licked and sucked at your cunt was inexplicably arousing.

and that did it for you. you tried to fight it, you really did, but your orgasm completely blindsided you, taking you by the reins and going to town. your lips parted in a cry of jake’s name, your thighs trembling and heat striking through you like lightning as you gripped onto jungwon for dear life.

jake continued to go down on you after you orgasmed, just until you finished more or less riding his face, going limp against your desk with only jungwon to keep you upright. you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. all the blood was rushing to your head and your heart was thumping in your ears.

jake finally pulled back, licking your arousal off of his lips and the corners of his mouth in a way that made your core throb emptily, then asked, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

your ears burned and you said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. your answer was in the way your chest heaved like unstill waters, your fingers still holding onto jungwon’s shirt. like you thought you would collapse if you had nothing to anchor yourself.

jungwon took one glance at you and scoffed, “i think she loved it, man.”

there was something so smug in jake’s stare, like he just knew that he had you.

when jake moved, jay came between your spread legs, still holding his cock while he stroked himself to climax in front of you. like it would never be satisfied, your pussy continued to throb at the sounds you were indirectly plucking out of him, culminating in one deep, guttural growl when he came, shooting his load on your cunt.

though you were (thank god) on birth control, him orgasming there still made you feel iffy. you could feel it trickling down into your hole and hated how eager it seemed to be filled. for half a second, you were convinced that was the worst that could happen.

imagine your shock when jungwon abandoned your boobs, soft and supple as they were, and shifted between your thighs next. you didn’t know what to expect when you noticed him move, they enjoyed keeping you guessing, but it definitely wasn’t for jungwon to lick at your release-stained pussy.

you gasped, “jungwon!”

the sound of him sucking and licking at your clit was lewd, and there were long, damp lines being made with his flattened tongue. while you were appalled, the other watched in amusement how jungwon unabashedly more or less ate jay’s cum from your hole in a disturbing licking pattern. because where it was a nightmare for you, it was just one giant game to them.

to say nothing of the fact that you had only just orgasmed, sensitive. your thighs couldn’t handle the stimulation and you let out a breath of relief when his mouth separated from you, only for him to stand and force his lips against yours. you resisted, jolting away from him, but your attempts to evade him were in vain.

jungwon didn’t even need to grab your face to keep you still, because there was nowhere for you to hide. it was a disgusting, messy kiss, given that you were adamant on pushing him off. only so much of it was your fault though. jungwon liked it messy, liked how repulsed you were. he liked the grimace you were sporting and the blend of jay’s cum and saliva dribbling down your chin. the damp spots of his saliva on your cheek from your attempts to dodge him and where his tongue pressed against you instead.

it was nauseating to you. you could taste jay’s cum on your tongue, even though his cock hadn’t been anywhere near your mouth. and the the taste just wouldn’t go away.

jungwon, at last, pulled back, though only to laugh at the look on your face. “aw, don’t make that face. you liked it, right?”

you parted your lips to say deny him, but jungwon saw it coming and just kissed you again, not one to take no for an answer.

��okay, move your ass,” jake said after a minute of watching you squirm. you never realized how strong jungwon was.

jungwon frowned, but moved out of the way. not because jake told him to, but because he had something equally devious running through his brain.

you were baffled when you noticed jake returning between your thighs, because he should’ve already had his fill. then, you noticed that he had freed his cock from his boxers in the time jungwon spent sucking on your tongue, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

you let out a cry of shock when they spread you over your desk the long way, carelessly toppling over your belongings, and yanked your skirt off your body completely. you were utterly naked, and there was no bit of you they hadn’t seen.

jake positioned himself behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. there was so much terror in your body at the moment, scared not only for what was to come, but of liking it too.

“please,” you begged, trying to negotiate once more. “you boys should fool around with someone your own age.”

jake snickered, as if that was funny. he probably thinks it is. “maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

your jaw slacked when his first thrust drew a pitched cry from the back of your throat. he wasn’t even half as patient as his father would be to sheathe himself completely. sunghoon would take his time, wallowing in your wetness just before slowly but steadily filling you, inch by fucking inch. jake, on the other hand, went straight for the kill.

but to your horror, you were soaked enough for him to slip right in smoothly, to say nothing of jay’s leftover cum facilitating the process. jake was girthy like sunghoon too, in spite of all of their stark differences, and you hated that it was so familiar how he was stretching you out.

“wait,” you whimpered, fingers clamping aggressively against the edges of your desk. “jake, please. you don’t need to do this.”

irritated, jay nudged jungwon, groaning, “will you shut her up already?”

“gladly,” jungwon chirped, a devilish little smile tugging at his lips.

you lifted your head up when you heard jungwon approaching the side of your desk that you were facing, watching him shuffle out of his pants and boxers, and you quickly started to flail. jake grabbed your neck, lowered his head, and hissed, “behave, or we’ll have to tell the class that their favorite professor is just a slutty little whore.” 

you stilled, remembering what was at stake. it wasn’t just your career, but sunghoon’s too. the second it got out that the two of you were involved in an affair, you knew you would both have to answer for your sins.

when jungwon finally got his underwear off, lengthy hard cock standing angrily against his stomach, he positioned himself beside your mouth and crooned, “say ‘ah.’”

“i don’t want to,” you whimpered.

jay crept over, evidently disgruntled, and there was a resounding smack when his palm landed flat against your cheek. “one more thing from you and your husband’s gonna get a nice surprise in his email,” he warned.

defeated, you silently opened your mouth, letting jungwon push himself to the back of your throat. he let out a pleasant little sigh, eyes fluttering closed, paying no attention to the tears dripping down your cheeks. your mouth was too warm for him to a give damn whether or not you wanted this, to care about what you were feeling.

all the while, jake’s hands were bruising your hips with the merciless grip he had of them. unlike you, his moans were unrestrained, never shy to reveal the ecstasy making his blood pump and his dick throb. you were so wet, so tight, everything he imagined tenfold. his father didn’t deserve you, not in his opinion. everything sunghoon could do, jake was certain that he could do better, even if you didn’t want to confess.

even if he was a lot less caring than his dad would present. you didn’t know sunghoon, not like you thought. the dark side jake had didn’t just come out of nowhere. though you would never realize, there was a clear reason why jake was so sick in the head, especially when it came to you. why he took great delight in forcing you over your desk, stuffing you full of his cock and listening to you cry, struggling to hide that you loved his cock.

“he doesn’t love you, you know,” jake said none too gently, snickering from between your legs. “i hope you realize you’re just another easy whore. not the first, not the last.”

there was so much going on that you were hoping you could somehow detach yourself from the brutal reality. not only was your body overloaded, but your mind and soul, ripping a hole right through all that you thought to be true.

it was all too fucking much. “your mouth feels so good,” jungwon exhaled, a hand tangled through your hair.

“you should feel her pussy. she’s so fucking wet, dude. and she thinks we’re going to buy that she’s not begging for this,” jake replied, completely degrading. 

jungwon chuckled breathlessly. you were sucking it out of him, against your will or not. “yeah, i can hear how wet she is.”

jay said nothing, but you were already too overwhelmed to notice his absence in the conversation. he was engrossed in thought, waiting with staggering patience for his own turn. which wasn’t typical for him at all. he swore, when he was done with you, you weren’t even going to think for weeks. 

between jake’s twisted smack of his hips against yours and the way jungwon was unabashedly using your mouth to get off, you couldn’t decide which was more brutal. torture was torture, but if it was meant to be so bad, there shouldn’t have been moans slipping from your mouth uncontrollably. there shouldn’t have been a familar weight sitting in the pit of your stomach, waiting to wreck you.

“i know you love this,” jake said, maybe project just a little, but the body didn’t lie and he could feel you tightening. “i know you love this fucking dick. wish i could hear you say it, baby.”

“that can be arranged,” jungwon quipped, but it took you by surprise when he actually pulled his cock from your mouth. “c’mon, angel. tell jake how much you love his dick.”

your face flushed with humiliation, but you knew what would happen if you failed to comply. “i...,” you started, hesitant. “i love your dick, jake.”

jake smacked your ass, making you stifle a scream. “again.”

you cried out, “i love your dick!”

“i know,” jake said, sickeningly confident in himself. “i also know that you’re about to cum.”

it was maddening that your husband of ages could hardly even get you off these days but some students in your class were recognizing the signs in record time. you were also ashamed with yourself for being so aroused, for needing to orgasm this badly, but you forfeited control of yourself moments ago.

jungwon had enough and once his dick started to twitch desperately, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, chasing relief for the raging hard-on you’d given him. rather than you sucking him off, it was more of him relentlessly fucking your throat, not stopping when you gagged.

and it wasn’t long before the three of you ultimately came, like a chain of dominoes collapsing after each other. this orgasm was just as powerful as the one that came before, the room reeling as your screams were muffled against jungwon’s stiff cock. your whole body was a thousand degrees hotter. jungwon’s warm cum releasing in your mouth while jake’s seeped deeply into your pussy.

although you tried to swallow jungwon’s cum, per his request, some of it dripped onto the floor. you were terrified of leaving evidence of this encounter, wishing you would’ve gulped it all back, but then you felt jake’s cum leaking out of you and your priorities shifted.

“my turn,” jay said, though that was a given. you were confused when he started to spread jake’s cum over your asshole, though for the longest you could feel his stare burning through your backside.

baffled, and maybe somewhat startled, you asked, “jay, what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” jay snapped belligerently, smacking his palm harshly against your cunt. you cried out in pain, unexpecting. “i’m tired of hearing your voice. just take it.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what was to come. nothing could have prepared you for the merciless way he penetrated your ass, effectively knocking the wind out of you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in the sky was stolen and hid in this little box somewhere.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to beg for forgiveness for whatever you had done, but no sound would come from your mouth. there was only instant tears, your hands gripped the rim of your desk for purchase. the makeup you were wearing was ruined ages ago, but it had to have looked despicable now, because you were sobbing harder than ever.

“poor thing.” jungwon frowned, pretending to be compassionate. that was something he was good at, you realized. he had you fooled until you saw how recklessly he fucked your throat, and you came to accept they were all too alike.

“she’ll be, fuck, fine,” jay groaned, careless. he was the roughest of the bunch, the most antagonistic. “this hole is so fucking tight.”

jay was pressing you against the desk harder than jake had, roughly mishandling you. it was obvious that jay didn’t see you as his equal. when it came to you, all he gave a damn about was passing your class and fucking your ass.

never in your life had anyone ever fucked you there before, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. you were so repulsed, choking on your own feelings as they killed you slowly. the pain was unbearable, making it impossible to remain still, but that didn’t matter when jay had you borderline flattened.

it was almost awe-inducing how he held you down with ease, regardless of how strong you thought you were and how violently you were reacting. it was the closest thing to being split open. pitiful little noises escaped you, but you bit them back, because the last thing you wanted was to get caught. somehow, though, the shock was more agonizing than the pain itself.

your agonized whimpers and jay’s husky grunts made an awkward cacophony. if there was any of them that got off to your helplessness, you knew it was all of them, but jay had to wallow in it more than either of them.

jake and jungwon were stroking their cocks to the sight of you being ravaged to the point of total destruction. there were plenty of times in your life where you felt nothing short of broken, but this was a different variant, a kind from which you knew that you would never recover.

jay couldn’t believe his thick cock was even fitting into your tight, flexing asshole, though then again, whatever you thought you couldn’t take, jay would make you do. your body was for his own personal amusement. he leveraged himself deeper and deeper, groaning and laughing, using you to his advantage. because what jay wanted, he always got. every time without fail. obviously, you were no exception to this pattern, even if it was to your own dismay.

your lip was bleeding from how frequently you were biting. all you wanted was to protect your reputation. you had things to lose, things you knew jay would steal away from you in a heartbeat, because all he did was take.

“she’s such a damn whore, fuck. she should be grateful i’m fucking her,” jay hissed, aggressive.

given how much you had heard adjacent statements in the past hour, you were starting to believe them, no matter how disparaging they were. you were accepting the cold truth, that this was your punishment for being unfaithful.

quickening his pace, jay continued, “i’ve never wanted to fuck that nasty little pussy of hers. not when everybody’s been inside of it. but i can tell she’s never had this ass stretched before.”

his words were hurting more than his cruel movements, and you didn’t understand the science behind that. you whined, “jay.” please, have mercy, was what you wanted to say, but you knew there was no point.

jay squeezed your neck, cutting off your ability to inhale, and you felt every nerve in your body start to panic. “for the umpteenth time, shut the fuck up. no one’s fucking talking to you, bitch.”

you quieted, face tensing with delirious pain. 

“pathetic if you ask me,” jake added, breath shaky. “her husband’s dick isn’t good enough for her, so she fucks my dad, and now that we give her three more, she still has the audacity to complain.”

jungwon snorted. “textbook cockslut.”

you wanted to speak, you were desperate to defend your honor and identity, but you had already said enough and you were lucky that they hadn’t already decided to expose you to the whole planet. you had no defenses against them, nothing in your arsenal. 

“begging us to stop, but she won’t stop fucking cumming. needy little bitch,” jay chided, though judging from his breathlessness, he was far from disgruntled.

jungwon chortled, his cock still close to your face, and it was making you mildly uncomfortable. “maybe we should send her back to the husband with some tips.”

“oh, i’ve got one,” jake said, beaming with his usual mischief. “hold her down and use her little holes until you’re done.”

“yeah, looks like she loves that,” jungwon retorted. 

jay quipped, “we should’ve recorded. maybe showed him a tutorial.”

jake blew out a contented sigh. “well, there’s always next time.”

your heart was taut with fear at the thought of there being a next time, but the three of your students were grinning with excitement, as if they wholly anticipated reliving this moment in the not so distant future.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jay grunted, wanting to go even deeper, but there was nowhere for him to move. 

jake hummed, reminiscing over how good it felt to cum inside of your throbbing pussy. how you milked the cum out of him, bled him dry. “shame she’s on birth control. i overheard her and my dad talking,” he replied, nonchalant. “imagine if we got her pregnant.”

“man, don’t talk like that,” jay groaned. 

jake glanced to jungwon, both of them snickering amongst each other. “dude, i was just kidding. don’t tell me that’s actually getting your dick hard.”

“fuck, i’m gonna…”

the most delicious growl came from the tip of jay’s tongue when he released inside of your asshole, his brows scrunching together with pleasure. his hips finally grinded to a halt when he met his climax, dumping way too much of his load inside. you could feel his fingertips leaving marks that would indefinitely stain your skin, and you dreaded having to explain them to your husband.

when jay finally pulled away from you, having had his fill for now, your body went limp against your desk. you could have moved, but you were too exhausted. sweat cooled down your back, chilling you to shudders, but there wasn’t a single thought in your head. all you could do was lie there, used and exploited, hoping that life would return to the way you knew it before they broke you.

because right now, it was bland. the only thing you could feel was the soreness in your legs and the cum dripping from your hole, numbing yourself to everything else.

there was so patronizing about the way jay turned to you, asking with the slyest grin on his face, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

TAGLIST: @ribbioniki, @yunakj, @vvenusoncasual, @lovingvoidgoatee , @iloveu-143, @bigwforjay, @hooniehon, @adoredbyjay, @cloud-lyy, @firstclassjaylee, @captainsaposts, @tinycatharsis

[aimfor-theheart]

to break first

|| mel medarda x reader, jayce talis x reader, viktor x reader || E/18+ || messy dynamics/hurt/comfort || wc: 6k || ao3 ||

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+

Your lovers are strange, demanding types.

a/n: idk man. but this revived my writing so. pls take it. dividers by @/cafekitsune

tags: messy dynamics, light smut/smut mentioned and implied, implied rough/hate sex, some hurt/comfort, ends on a hopeful note. not beta read/edited.

You've never liked Jayce much.

And you might just be the only person he doesn't like, either.

He plays nice, though, especially around Viktor. You think Jayce has teeth that he tries to hide, but you catch the flash of them from time to time. He smiles at you and it doesn't reach his eyes. It's just shy of contempt.

It makes your grin cheshire and sharp. You like watching him squirm. You like watching him wrestle with his distaste for you, try to keep his teeth hidden. Especially here, at this gala, all gold and sparkling and pristine, for all the world to see.

Bubbling rosé is bright and fruity on your tongue. You're shoulder to shoulder with Viktor, the two of you half-miserable together, stuffed into formal wear and ripped from your respective labs and studios. Which is why Jayce lingers; he's hovering in that annoying way of his. Bumbling a little. He's trying to make Viktor feel more at home but—

You have something Jayce doesn't.

Only you can do that.

You're Viktor's childhood friend, thick as thieves and twice as inseparable. You're an artist from the Undercity—a painter, a poet, a musician. An artistic genius, the world claims, an artistic savant. And one of the rare, lucky few who has been exalted and raised above your station to be paraded around Piltover like some trophy of success from their lowest. It's mostly Viktor's fault, you claim—the moment Heimerdinger found him, he also accidentally found you.

"Ah, if it isn't one of the most brilliant and groundbreaking artists of our generation." A smooth, easy voice floats through your thoughts. You turn your head to find Councilor Medarda, swathed in what could be a starry sky of silk and gold.

She's even more beautiful in person somehow; if you were to paint her, she'd be all easy, graceful lines, curved and long. A lily stem. The arch of a tiger.

"Just the person I was looking for." She muses.

"Me?" You balk, at the same time that Jayce gaps, "Them?!"

You swing your gaze to glare at him and even Viktor wrinkles his nose. Jayce tries to clear his throat, clear the mistake.

Councilor Medarda raises a brow at Jayce, but then her eyes flicker to you, honing in on you. Hazel and gold and reflective; a kaleidoscope of color. And with such—intensity. You feel it in her. Thrumming. "Yes, you." She says smoothly and she smiles in the elegant way of royalty; perfect and mysterious.

"Are you sure you have the right person, Councilor Medarda?" You joke, "you know I'm just—"

"I'm certain. And please—call me Mel. I'd love to commission you for several art pieces to be displayed in the council chambers."

Viktor whistles a little, impressed, though you can tell it's a little dry.

(He both rambles and rants about Councilor Medarda from time to time and you can never tell if he adores her or resents her.)

Jayce startles at this, but again, he tries to play it off. He places his hand on her lower back, "I didn't know the council chambers was looking to display art."

Mel allows his hand to remain, but she tilts her chin up and her eyes flash somewhat—quick, sharp. There's a silent conversation there that you can't decipher.

But you can tell there is something more than just coworkers happening between them.

"I'm looking to display art in the council chambers." Mel then says.

Jayce looks away, cowed somewhat, tail tucked between his legs in a way that makes you smile.

Mel drifts from Jayce's hands, offering her arm to you, "will you walk with me? I'd love to discuss what I have in mind."

If only to steal her away from Jayce, you finally peel yourself away from Viktor's side and the wall. Your shoulder, where it was touching his, goes cold. But Mel's arm is warm as you twine it around yours.

She draws you away from the scientists, into the fray of swirling, dazzling people.

You glance over your shoulder only once and catch Jayce's eyes, and let your smile curl into something a little smug, almost vicious; baring your teeth as if to gloat at his own, still tucked behind his lips.

***

"Mel's an artist." You say to Viktor, offhand. "A good one, too. You should see her paintings—"

Viktor sighs heavily, snatching one of the little tools that you'd been fiddling with out of your hands. "You sound like Jayce."

You wrinkle your face in disgust, reaching back for the tool and grappling with him a moment for it. You press all against each other, squabbling, before you win out and take it back from him. He stares at you, almost in some form of a glare and you stare back, watching his eyes, dark in the low light of the lab. He glances at the tool in your hands like he might try to take it back, and when he moves, you move faster, and hold it out of his reach.

"Are they together?" You ask.

He gives up on the tool.

Then, he lifts his shoulders in some form of a crooked shrug, eyes going skyward. "One can only assume."

"She's out of his league." You sigh, throwing your weight back in the chair in despair.

Viktor snorts at that, returning to his work, "I'm sure few are in league with Councilor Medarda."

His voice is dry. A little brittle.

"I don't know what you have against her." You then venture, speaking more to the ceiling, returning to fiddling with the tool. It twists in your fingers, the sound of metal whirling and softly grinding.

"I have nothing against Councilor Medarda." He says too evenly.

"You know, I've never been able to tell if it's contempt or adoration you have for her." You continue, as if he hadn't said anything to contradict you. "But either way, she gets under your skin."

"She does not—"

"Are you jealous? She took your big, dumb partner away?" You press, twisting and twisting away at the tool.

"No—" Viktor says sharply, but it rings with a note of truth. It's not quite that then.

You pause. And then.

You crack your eye open, "I think she likes me."

Viktor pauses now too, metal clinking quietly with the sudden stop of his work again. He knows that tone of your voice. His face pulls; distaste. Frustration.

(Jealousy.)

His speech is slow as he tries to parse through what to say, "Councilor Medarda is charming and—"

"She invited me to dinner." You say and now you're watching him carefully, "at her personal suite. Just us."

Viktor rounds on you, "you're going to get yourself into trouble."

You can't help but smile, slow and amused, "I feel like it's good for the art—fool around with a politician—"

"You know, I have always wondered if you would learn your lesson," Viktor continues over your monologuing about drama and passion and politics, "—maybe this time, you'll finally learn it."

He snatches the tool from your hands and throws it down on his desk.

"I love learning." You chirp innocently and he shakes his head, face flushed with passion.

He looks at you again when he can, shakes his head some more, some of the irritation fading from his features. He never stays mad at you for long; doesn't have it in him. Besides, he causes his own trouble. Doesn't learn his own lessons. And when the dust settles, the two of you are still here, beside each other. The artist and the scientist, making messes, breaking things—all for some higher purpose only the two of you have ever understood.

(You've loved him your whole life. Sometimes, you think you carry half of the other's ribs inside one another. He must have twelve of yours, and you must have twelve of his—)

You lift your foot, nudging his calf beneath the desk with it, then up to place it in his lap. An olive branch, of some kind. Your affection is unsurprising to him and he sighs. He drops his hand to your ankle. He squeezes.

"She's going to eat you alive." Viktor finally warns.

"One can only hope."

A laugh startles out of him, rough and raspy, before it dissolves into coughing.

You lurch up to give him water, sitting near you, and bring the glass to his lips on reflex, like you used to as children. And on reflex, he drinks—he doesn't try to take the glass from your hands right away or push you away. Instinctively, you care for him, and instinctively, he lets you.

(You think you're the only one he'd ever allow to do this, born out of years of pressed side to side in the same bed, listening to him weather the nights. Born out of years of your love and stubborn care for him.)

After a moment, he lifts his hand and slowly replaces yours.

You hover over him. He sets the glass down. The water is almost gone. You'll replace it for him before you leave the lab.

He settles back into his chair, eyes returning to the pieces in front of him; all the odd metal scattered like little silver stars in front of him against a vast, dark sky. He picks up one, and then another, and tries to fit them together.

Then another. And another.

You watch him twist and turn, put the puzzle together.

He says, "Lately, I feel as if—" his fingers are careful, almost shaking, as he tries to create something of the scattered, broken pieces, "everything is quite fragile. And it's all just going to—" he presses a little too hard, and the metal all splinters apart, clattering back to the desk, "break. At any given moment."

After a moment, he looks up at you, still hovering over him, "I fear you're heading towards a breaking point."

You hum a little.

"What is it you scientists say?" You ask, running your fingers through his dark hair, thick and tousled. You twirl a strand around your finger, let it fall;

"It has to break first, before you can discover anything."

***

You'd say Mel Medarda is a wolf in sheep's clothing, but she doesn't feign anything so harmless or lost as a sheep.

You do think she's—

A little like Jayce, where she hides her teeth. But where Jayce irritates you because he's certainly trying to seem better than he is, or more harmless than he can be, Mel does so with intention. Mel hides her teeth to lure you closer. She doesn't pretend she doesn't have them; she waits until you're in range before you catch a glimpse of them.

And by then, well. It's too late.

You realize this over dinner, as she laments about what art she'd like from you and she's adamant about not censoring you.

(You're known for you controversy; whether in your physical art, your poetry, or music. Once pulled to the light of the Upper City, you refused to let them defang you. Where Jayce pretends he doesn't have teeth, you bare yours proudly, and sometimes wish you could tear the tender parts of Piltover open.

You strive to do it with your art. And while applauded in some vague capacity, you are also kept on a tight leash. Your patrons are warily supportive of you. Your commissions are strict. You're treated the way you think a wild animal is; with utmost care and fear and awe.)

In fact, her only rule for you, is to not hold back.

Which, given the growing tension between the Upper and Lower Cities, you realize this cannot only be from the goodness of her heart or for the integrity of art but—

You tilt your head and consider her.

"Am I a political move, Mel?"

She smiles in that enigmatic way of hers, her teeth flash, "isn't all art?"

You narrow your eyes, "perhaps. I wonder of it's effectiveness when it's employed by the people it often critiques." You lift your chin and pretend to be hurt—or perhaps, mask your hurt within dramatics to make it seem ironic, "and here I thought you really liked me—"

"I do." Mel assures, "I've admired you a great deal from afar. And getting to know you, your mind, it's—" she considers her words, "it's been nothing short of mesmerizing. Astonishing."

She sounds sincere. But you wonder if she always sounds that way.

She can tell she hasn't convinced you because you've never been able to mask your emotions well, so she leans forward and says, "unfortunately, everything I do is a political move, whether I'd like it to be or not. Both can be true—" she says, "I can adore you. And I can also need you to make a public point, wield you like my own elegant weapon."

"Artists make for disobedient weapons, usually." You say.

She laughs a little at that and agrees, "True." And then she lowers her voice, looks at you through the fan of her dark lashes in such a way that seizes you—arrests you, holds you right there, caught, in her heady gaze;

"But I don't need you to be obedient."

"I can never tell if you're trying to seduce me or persuade me." You blurt out, the words running from your mouth like a rabbit from a wolf. Your desire bursts from you like frightened birds taking to flight, like most of what you feel does, all of it spilling out of you in a gush of rawness.

She stands gracefully and again, you think of how you'd draw her—how you'd capture her in a poem or a song. The sharp curve of her waist, the predatory grace she carries effortlessly. You think her song is a croon from the deep part of your chest. You think her poem looks like an hourglass on the page and she slips from your fingers as easy as time does, too.

She rounds the small table to your side.

You look up at her. Your heart kicks up into a quick dance.

She brings the back of her knuckle to your jaw and gently—with all the carefulness in the world, strokes you.

(She touches you the way one does a bird, as if they know it's fragile. Perhaps as if they know it might fly away.

Or maybe she touches you the way one does an animal they're not sure of; will you bite? Will you lean into the touch?)

"Both can be true." She finally answers.

When she kisses you, it's fiercer than you're expecting; a lightning strike, a blow to the heart.

Your teeth come up against hers.

She gasps when you drag her further down to you, greedier than she's ever known, meeting her fierceness with your own, like the clashing of blades, or the destruction of stars.

And you think, if you don't want obedience, then I'll show you.

I'll show you.

***

"What are you playing at?"

Jayce's voice is a vicious little hush in the caverns of the council chambers. Mel has just left you after peaking over your shoulder to view the preliminary sketches.

You lift your head and blink up at Jayce slowly, dragging yourself from your sketch; from your world of art.

(It sets his teeth to grinding because Viktor makes that same look, when he's so deep into his work and Jayce disturbs him. It's a face he finds endearing on both of you, unfortunately. He imagines your minds are in heaven and he's selfish enough to drag you both back down to earth.)

"What do you mean? For the art piece?" You ask, glancing down at your lap, at the series of gestures and lines that you've been lost in. Maybe you're feigning innocence a little. But you want him to say it, if he's going to pick this fight.

Jayce's eyes flash like the too-hot part of the flame.

You have to bite back a smile.

Come on, you think wildly, say it. Let's fight. Here in the chambers, where you try so hard to be their golden boy.

"What are you trying to get out of Mel?" He asks and it makes you laugh outright, because he's dancing around what he really wants to ask.

Your laugh echoes in the hall, bouncing off all this marble and gold. It's out of place here, too loud, too free.

"The better question is what she's trying to get out of me." You say, "do you think I have it in me to manipulate the Mel Medarda?"

He goes quiet at that.

"Are you doing this to get back at me?" He asks after a moment and it's so close to what he wants to ask, so close to what he really wants to talk about.

"She kissed me first." You answer. "Have you had this conversation with her?"

You can tell by the shadow of uncertainty that passes over his face that he hasn't. You stand, easily setting your sketches and pencils aside, and drift nearer to him.

"Oh," you hum, "you didn't know. She didn't mention some plan of seduction to you? Maybe she really does like me."

He rounds on you so sharply that you are genuinely surprised. You gasp when your back hits the wall and he's got you caged in, a snarl on his lips and you finally get to see those teeth of his—

"You just always have to push me, don't you? In all the years I've known you, you've only ever tried to get under my skin. I tried so hard, for so long, for Viktor's sake to get along with you." He says lowly and distantly, you think, does he cage in Mel like this? With his big arms and broad chest? Or does she have him on a tight leash, underneath her?

"This time, I didn't mean it. Surely, you understand—" you say slyly, "when she comes onto you like that, all honey-voiced and half-lidded. She's hard to resist, isn't she?"

The grip he has on your biceps tightens to a point of pain—he'll bruise you. You'll be tender there, where his big hands gripped you, and it only makes you smile.

"Stop it." He snaps.

But you can't help yourself now, because once you've got something between your teeth, you've never been able to let it go;

"I just want to know if she kisses me the same way she kisses you? Does she play nice with you? She's quite fierce with me—"

When Jayce kisses you, it's a crush of aggression.

You laugh into his mouth wildly as he shoves you harder against the wall, teeth mean in the tender part of your bottom lip so that your laughter melts into a groan of pain. Of pleasure.

You claw at his back and wonder if Mel does, too.

You fight and hiss and snarl, show him your teeth when he sinks his into the fluttering pulse at your throat. You try to draw blood. You think he tries to bruise.

And well, you always wanted to see his teeth—

Just never thought you'd end up with a ring of their mark on your neck.

***

You're not really sleeping—nights are long. Days are longer. You're in the studio too much. This art piece is strangling you, wrestling with you and you're losing. Your lovers are strange, demanding types. Jayce comes to you at his lowest, and Mel at her highest. She licks the wounds Jayce leaves on you, purrs about how good you're being for her, goads you into putting up more of a fight that she likes to quell. She asks, have I stolen your bite? Are you going soft on me? Until you try to wrestle with her, too.

Mel subdues you the way snakes do—constricts and tightens and puts all that pressure on you until you just burst.

Until you go slack in her grip.

Jayce takes his anger out on you and he's not so cunning or delicate as her. You think Jayce struggles with you the way he must with his hammers, with high heat and all his strength.

Your art is starting to look like pieces of them; brutal and brilliant and cunning and beautiful. Tricky to capture, even more difficult to mesh together.

You're covered in paint when Viktor comes to visit you, frustrated with the canvas in front of you, which you think you'll end up scrapping again.

(This is the fourth one. You've been trying to fit all the components and pieces together but none of it's working, all of it's a mess. Splintered apart on the canvas. It looks like a disaster on the page.)

"Have you eaten?" Viktor asks as he comes to stand behind you. He gazes at the canvas n front of you.

You sigh heavily. "Have you?" You return.

He snorts at that, "No. I'm coming from the lab and thought I'd check on you—Mel mentioned you were here."

He pauses and then, "that you'd been here. For awhile now."

You hear the layers in his voice; the worry, but then the—

Irritation? Disdain?

"Are you asking me to dinner?" You say instead, dashing the canvas with a sudden great, horrible X. It's your meager attempt at some sort of joke or flirting, but your voice is perhaps too thin for it. You stare at your canvas, now dripping with that great X, the paint slipping down and marring it further.

When you turn to look at Viktor, he regards you warily. He glances at the canvas you've just ruined, and then back to your face.

He takes in your appearance; your disheveled hair and the paint all over your clothes and skin. And then his eyes skip down to your throat, to your arms. All marked up and bruised, unhidden and worn proudly here, in the safety of your art studio.

"Should I be concerned?" Viktor asks instead and you've always loved his bluntness. His lack of tact is like coming home. It's a relief, when you're constantly with Mel and Jayce lately, who talk in riddles and niceties and flowered language that hides their intentions or feelings.

There is a bitterness in Viktor's voice that you know well, too.

"About?" You prod.

"I'm no fool." Viktor answers, "I know you're sleeping with Councilor Medarda."

"Is that all you know?" You return, tilting your head.

"Is there more to know?" Viktor asks, eyeing you.

"Jayce hasn't said anything?"

You watch a strange shadow pass over Viktor's face as he slowly comes to the natural conclusion that you've lead him to. He's right, he is no fool. And then you watch his eyes catch fire, catch jealousy.

"I warned you—" he starts, suddenly.

"And I told you, it's good for the art—" You joke.

"Obviously it isn't!" He snaps, gesturing to the canvas behind you, ruined and glaring at your back. And then he heaves out a rough, agitated breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "Do you ever think of consequences?" He demands.

"Sure," You say, "I'm exactly where I want to be."

"You know, they are my colleagues. What am I supposed to do if—?!"

You laugh at that, enough that it startles him out of his beginning tirade. He comes up short and his shoulders bunch with tension as he glares at you.

"Is something funny?" He hisses.

"Your colleagues?" You repeat, "that's all they are to you?"

"Well—yes, technically." He stumbles on his words here.

"Are you jealous, Viktor?" You ask. "You don't have to be."

"I'm not jealous—" He refutes, even as his cheeks grow ruddy. And for a moment, you could be twelve with him again, his face flush as he looks at you after you'd kissed him for the first time because he'd never kissed anyone before. Or twenty-two and drunk, kissing one night under the stars when you felt so lost and disorientated in the Upper City—just wanted to feel like yourself again.

Or now, at thirty-two, staring at the man you've loved your entire life and whatever mess you've made out of everything.

You reach out and touch his cheek, glowing with color, and at first he winces away, but when you persist, he relaxes. He presses his cheek to your open palm and looks at you; raw and frank and so Viktor that you can't help the faint smile that touches your lips. Even as he frowns at you.

"What are you meddling with?" Viktor murmurs, turning his face into your cupped hand. You feel the faint brush of his lips, a little dry, and soft. Warm.

"Apparently our political landscape." You respond and that at least gets a laugh from him. You feel it against you and some spark shimmers through you, shudders and opens itself to you.

(Your desire for Viktor is something always with you, ambient, perhaps dormant, that always resurfaces like the great fins of some horrible, huge monster in dark waters. Your desire for Viktor is a symptom of your love. You've never know what to call it except that, except his.)

"Have I upset you?" You ask now as his laughter fades, and with it his amusement.

He sighs deeply and you feel his breath against your skin. You draw nearer. He leans back onto his crutch only slightly, only for a moment, before he allows you further into his space.

"I don't—" He struggles for the words before admitting, "yes, somewhat. For some reason."

"Are you feeling neglected?" You ask and try very hard to keep your amusement out of your voice, lest you irritate him further. He's always had a jealous streak in him, even as kids. If you made another friend, he would pout until you draped yourself over him and showered him in your attention again.

Even your previous relationships had bred some sort of jealousy in him; he's never liked any of your partners.

(It's so endearing to you that you have to tuck your teeth into your own lip and hum a little.)

You lean towards him, ducking your head so that your nose dips to brush against the line of his jaw. You feel his body shudder more than you see it. His breath goes tight. Your eyes flicker, a flash in the sun-spun light of your art studio;

"Do you want me to kiss you the way Jayce kisses me?" You murmur, your lips hovering over his. You watch his face gutter, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His breath goes shallow.

"Or would you prefer Mel?" You murmur, just before you close the distance and kiss him with a certain fierceness, a meanness that you don't usually have with him. He stumbles back a little with the force of it and your hand that had been holding his cheek, slips into the hair at the nape of his neck.

A groan startles out of him when you tighten your hand into a fist and pull.

You part from the kiss, panting a little, and he looks down at you, eyes molten gold and burning.

You're about to kiss him again, when he murmurs, "I want—" he swallows hard, "I want you to kiss me the way you do—I want—"

You press back into him instantly, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought, with the notion that his desire, his jealousy—

You kiss him like you always have, overeager and desperate and messy. You urge him backwards, towards your workbench, all cluttered with paints. His crutch clatters against the ground uselessly as you grab for each other. You knock over a jar of brushes half-haphazardly placed on the floor.

You're overwhelmed with the thought that his jealousy might've been for you, too.

When he braces his hand against your work bench, he knocks over a cup of paint. You laugh into his mouth as you paw at his stupid, perfectly buttoned vest. When he touches you again, he stains you blue—and later red and violet. Burnished gold and paint so silver it makes the stars look dull.

A mess, he tsks, impossibly fond, as he looks at you and himself and the work space.

At all that you'd done.

***

"You've been pulling strings," Mel says as you lay in her lap, letting her pet and stroke you. Her fingers dance over the ridge of your brow.

You blink up at her slowly, eyes fluttering. "Shouldn't that be my line?" You ask.

"I'm not naive to the way you've been pulling our strings." She muses, fingers tumbling into your hair. She's gentle here, careful as she cards her way through your hair, her fingers nimble.

"Pulling strings is a far too sophisticated thing to call it." You snort and lean into her touch like a cat, preening a little.

"What would you call it?" Mel asks and the smile she wears is less of a mystery to you now, and you can tell there's a fondness to it.

(She does really like you—she is really being sincere, you've learned.)

You think about this for a long moment; you toy with saying a fucking mess. Or digging my own grave. But neither feel quite so full—while true, in many ways, there leaves little room for—

Well, this.

The way she holds you. The cat's curl of her smile, pleased and mischievous. Her fingers, gentle and coaxing, urging you to unfurl and bloom.

Or Viktor's rasping laugh that you can pull out of him. The fondness you hold for him like a pearl held inside a clam, growing and glowing. The way you drape yourself all over him, and he accepts it as easy as the day accepts the sun, or the night accepts the moon into its skies.

And even Jayce and the strangled back-and-forth that the two of you dance; it's still yours. It's still his. And the way he cups your cheek admist the violence or how he let's no one speak ill of you in front of him.

(Or the way Jayce and Viktor's minds work together, or how tactical Jayce and Mel can be; sharpened like daggers and twice as pretty. Or the creativity you pull out of Mel, allowing her to see the world like a boundless piece of art. Or the way Viktor's science influences your art; how your art influences his science. The fierceness you bring out in Jayce—the passion he brings out in you.)

It doesn't quite account for all the parts that make you burn and grow and shake out your great, big wings to fly.

Finally, you say, "it feels like I'm trying to find the melodies and harmonies and how they mesh—or the composition of a painting, or the feeling of a poem, but some of the words are still missing. It feels like when I chase art and try to break it open, to reveal what it wants me to learn—or show me."

"Have you figured it out yet?" She asks and she's genuinely curious, almost quiet in her desire to know.

At that, the door creaks open and there are several hushed whispers before Jayce suddenly strides into the room with all the false confidence in the world. Viktor looks sheepish behind him.

You sit up sharply, trying to detangle yourself from Mel.

"I told you they were here—" Viktor hisses to him, "and we shouldn't—we shouldn't be here."

Jayce isn't listening, though, and he's clearly inflating himself to get out, "I've come on important business of the council."

Mel raises her brows and throws you a sideways glance. She then says, "then come in, Councilor, since it's so important that you've come to my personal quarters. Unannounced."

Jayce at least has the good sense to look a little sheepish now, too. You can't help the laugh that springs out of you.

He throws you a dark look before clearing his throat.

"Councilor Haskel and Salo are seeking to strike down the art deal." Jayce announces and your heart drops a little, sinks in your chest.

You look at Mel. She purposefully keeps her face a mask of coolness. She rolls her shoulder briefly, which is your only tell of irritation or concern.

"Come in, Jayce." Mel finally says, "and you, too, Viktor. Shut the door behind you."

Both wander into the space and it's such a surreal moment, all four of you, for once, in the same room, that you can't help but laugh again.

Mel sighs in a way as if to say, I suppose this would happen eventually.

Jayce and Viktor can't quite look anyone in the eye and they both take uneasy seats int he living room.

Again, you feel like laughing—you're not sure what all the trepidation is for. Each of them have you seen you naked; you have seen them naked.

"What's their angle?" Mel asks, ignoring both Jayce and Viktor's shyness.

Jayce clears his throat, "they don't think it's worthwhile to support an artist from the Undercity at this time."

You wince and Jayce adds, "their words, not mine."

"Well, that won't do." Mel tsks and she suddenly moves to stand, graceful as ever, her robes trailing in a wave of silk and the smell of lillies. She likes to pace when she's thinking, and she pads over the window, to look out at the city.

Eventually, she says, "we'll need a grander plan. Something they can't refuse."

"What are you thinking?" Jayce asks.

She turns and all around her, she's doused in gold light, glowing in the evening sun as if she was born to it. "Perhaps combining some science with it." Now she looks at Viktor, "something symbolic to the current advancements with Hextech, perhaps."

Viktor looks at you, then back at Mel, "I can do that."

"Jayce, I need you to talk to the other Councilors and be sure they're not swayed by Haskel or Salo." She then adds, "and I want more publicity around it—and around our artist and scientist."

Our artist.

Our scientist.

"Ah—" Viktor starts, "I don't want to be in the public eye."

Our, our, our.

"It'll put pressure on Haskel and Salo if the people are behind you both, too." Mel presses gently, though her gaze has softened on him; she's sympathetic to his desires.

To assure him, you chirp, "I can do all the talking."

"Not sure that's our best idea." Jayce remarks.

"I am certain I can name several worse ideas of ours." You quip without thinking, and then you toss one of Mel's throw pillows at him; the beautifully embroidered one that's likely far too expensive and made from the rarest threads.

It hits him with a dull thud. And for a moment, he's shocked. The room is silent.

Still, your heart sings our, our, our.

But then Viktor snorts, before breaking out into his low, soft chuckle. And then the twinkle of Mel's giggles, coupled with your own laughter that bursts from your chest like a bird taking to flight.

And Jayce watches a moment, all of you laugh and smile, and if you could paint him in this moment, you would—

A little awe-struck. Tender around the edges, burnished gold. Breath stolen from him.

(Oh, he does really like you, too. All of you.)

But then laughter rumbles from him, too. And the tension slips from all of you, drains from your bodies with each bubbling sound.

And all of them together—finally together—are the melody you've been looking for, the words you couldn't place. The color on the canvas that finally brings it all together.

It's all the broken pieces like a mosaic, finally put together to create something whole.

And it's all ours, you think, the sun a flare of light and beauty bursting through the room, bathing all of your favorite people in it's gold and glory;

It's all ours.

[whowrotethenote]

ꜰʟᴀꜱʜɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Summary: Brielle's life was the epitome of rags to riches. She had it all. Fame, fortune, and an older wealthy husband who kissed the ground she walked on. That is until haunting thoughts of her future where he became the only superstar in their marriage, forces her to fall into a downward spiral before her time.

Pairing: Roman Reigns (Joe) x Black Fem OC (Brielle)

Warnings: Age gap // Smut // Angst // Arguing // Addiction & alcohol abuse // Profanity

Word Count: 8.9k (once again, so sorry lol)

Inspo: Flashing Lights by Kanye West

A/N: I actually got the inspiration for this from another piece i’m working on, only it’s not fan fiction. I changed some things around. Same premise: young supermodel married to an older, wealthy and prominent man. If I ever decided to publish the original work, it will most likely be professionally (novel) not on social media. Anyway, this is a test run lol let me know what y’all think. Tell me what you like/don’t like. This is wayyy smuttier than the last jawn lol. Happy reading bitches!

Also, my taglist form is up. I'll add more options of posts to be tagged in as my blog grows.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any media posted. Credit to their respective owners.

I do not consent to any portion of my writing to be reproduced or used in any manner without expressed written permission of myself, with the exception for the use of brief quotations.

This story is completely fictional. With the exception of OCs, I do not own any characters in this story. The pictures posted are for the intention of face claims and imaginative purposes. The ideas, stories, scenarios, and characters you are about to read about are a mixture of my imagination, and inspiration from real life whether it be loosely based on people I know or public figures. By no means should you take anything a character thinks, says, or does, as my way of expressing my own interpersonal beliefs and thoughts. The characters are themselves and I am me. Two completely separate entities. I am not trying to promote any lifestyle, ideas, or agendas throughout the book. I am simply telling a story. If you cannot grasp that concept, do not read any further.

“You want a refill, love?” The young, blonde bartender offered Brielle a weak smile that she returned. 

“Fuck it, why not?” She pushed the now empty martini glass aside watching her work. It wasn’t long ago that Brielle was the hustler on the other side of the bar. Every bartender had a sixth sense. One that told them who needed a drink versus who just wanted one. And Brielle was in desperate need of a drink. 

She turned slightly away from the bar top to scan the sea of people in the upscale ballroom before her, looking for one face in particular. Normally he wouldn’t be hard to spot. He stood six foot three, and was two hundred and sixty-five pounds of pure muscle. Only, the room was full of men with the same build in suits.

She tapped her expensive Russian manicure on the glass surface, squinting. She found him surrounded by a few of his colleagues and his boss, indulging in what looked like deep conversation. She fought the urge to roll her eyes knowing it couldn't have been that deep. Most likely the usual mindless chatter men share. Sports, pussy, wrestling, cars, politics and more pussy.

Brielle couldn't help but to stare. He was Dapper Dan, in an all black Tom Ford suit, hand-picked by Brielle herself. On his left wrist sat a two-toned AP. No diamonds. He had never been the flashy type. He didn't need to be. His aura spoke for itself, always giving away the fact that he was worth a billion before he ever even opened his mouth. Clean cut with a thick dark beard, lined to perfection. His shiny locks pulled back in his signature sleek bun. 

He must've felt her. His eyes locked in on her before she even noticed he was staring back. He flashed that billion dollar smile from across the room and Brielle almost forgot that she wanted to be anywhere else but where she currently stood. 

Just when it looked like he would make his way over, two more of his colleagues joined the group, reeling him back in. Oh, fuck me, she thought.

“Babe, while you're at it, how about a shot of Vodka?" Brielle asked with her head now in her hands.

The bartender chuckled at the only miserable seeming person in the ballroom. "Particular brand?”

"Whatever has the highest percentage.”

It was the week before a paper-view event. Summer-slam? Royal Rumble? Wrestle-mania?—Shit she didn’t know. She couldn’t keep up with that shit anymore than he could keep up with the endless runway shows and fashion weeks all over the world. What she did know? It was all a pain in her ass. The whole ordeal. The weeks leading up, the actual event, and all the fallout from it. Black tie events, interviews about storylines she didn’t have a clue about, terms she barely understood and unfamiliar faces. Worst of all? Her man’s hands were too full to assist in carrying any of her weight. 

He was the one. The whole WWE universe orbited around him and the rest of the Bloodline. That was means for him to be involved in every little aspect of the company. Pulled him every which way, in every direction. The forefront of it all.

In his world, Brielle always found herself taking a step back. She was used to being center of attention, all eyes on her, and the camera’s object of affection. But this was different. Sports entertainment wasn’t her lane. The cameras and microphones weren’t for her here. Its like someone picked Barbie up and dropped her in an all men’s gym.

"Here you go, love." 

Brielle’s night was starting to go uphill at the sight before her. A colorful martini and a clear shot filled to the brim of the shot glass. God bless the bartender.

“Thank you so much. Do I even wanna know what this is?” She picked up the shot first.

“Probably not,” she shook her head, already onto the next patron flagging her down.

Like it was water, Brielle got it down in one gulp and chased it with the Apple martini. She should’ve asked for a water. The shot ignited her insides like a furnace, waking her up immediately. 

“Oh, come on girl. It can’t be that bad.” Her lips curved widely into a genuine smile at the familiar voice. “What you got going on over here?” Jey held the martini glass up to his nose and jerked his head back with a screwed face. “I can’t get with that vodka, now.”

“Good. It's for the grown ups anyway.” He pulled her slim body into a comforting hug. “Where’s Kecia?” She looked past him for his wife, getting her hopes up that maybe this night wouldn’t be so excruciating if she had a friend. 

“Lil’ man got sick. I’m dolo tonight.” She audibly exhaled and flagged the bartender down.

“Yeah, i’ma need another one of whatever that was.”

He rubbed her bare back that was exposed in the silk Roberto Cavalli gown, in an attempt to alleviate some tension. He’s bore witness already on multiple occasions, of what the night could become after Brielle’s frustrations have been amplified by too many drinks. 

“Where’s that big-headed husband of yours?” He searched.

She waved a hand. “He was somewhere talking to Hunter in a huddle. I think I saw Seth with them. I doubt they’re in the same spot still.”

“Stay put,” he instructed before walking off.

Two shots and two drinks later, Brielle had opened and closed every app downloaded to her phone. She made useless conversation with the young blonde that fed her drinks, getting interrupted every time someone new came up to ask for a drink. It seemed like she was second priority to everyone in her line of sight.

She looked over her slim shoulder to find Joe, with Paul by his side, and to no surprise a camera and microphone in their faces. He stood with his big hands locked in front of him, listening to each of their questions intently.

The ballroom hosting the night was exquisite. The pinnacle of wealth. A three-piece chandelier hung from the center of the high ceiling. Spacious as can be with marble flooring. Cathedral-like interior, giving the room an ancient castle feel. White clothed table tops accompanied by groups of people, babysitting glasses of champagne, caught in conversation. Then there was Brielle. Secluded, getting drunk at the bar.

It’s not that Brielle was ungrateful or necessarily unhappy. What was happiness anyway? In a room full of prominent strangers, drink in hand, she thought about what happiness and living a fulfilling life meant to her before. Before all of this. Not just Joe and his world, but her new one too.

Before the flashing lights and glamour, it seemed so simple. She just wanted to survive. So happiness to her back then would’ve been the equivalent to just living, as opposed to surviving. And however that came, she was ready to snatch it by the balls and never let go. Didn’t matter if it was attached to a wealthy man, the lottery by some miracle, or just straight finesse.

Brielle had came a long way from sleeping on her sister’s couch and surviving off scraps of tips in a sports bar. She was scouted on a late night slinging drinks. An older caucasian man who was just there to watch the NFL game, ended up being one of the head photographers for French Vogue.

One look at her face, with exceptional bone structure, beauty mark planted naturally on her chin, soft doe eyes, and he was mesmerized. Inspired. He almost had to beg her to come to his studio and take a few pictures. It was New York. Any old pervert with a camera could come in a bar and lure a young beautiful woman to his “studio.” And although Brielle, starving for a change of pace in life and obviously struggling, with her long low ponytail loose from the chaotic night; that didn’t mean she had to be desperate or naïve. 

He slid his business card on the bar top. Still hustling and bustling to give the growing crowd their drinks, she didn’t even give it one look. “Just think about it, please!” He shouted with a thick accent over the wave of excitement after the Eagles made a touchdown. “My number is on the card!”

“Yeah, sure!” She shouted back uninterested. Almost a whole half hour after he left, she shook the alcohol-soiled card from off the bar top and when her eyes focused on the French Vogue logo, she nearly choked.

Damn right she called the next morning. Seven a.m. sharp. She had only clocked out three hours before and stole an hour of sleep.

He instructed her to come bare faced, in a white tank top, jeans, and her hair pulled back, just as it was the night before. She didn’t know he really meant just how it was the night before. When she arrived with a tight low ponytail, slicked back to perfection, he pulled it looser and staged a few fly aways.

He ordered her to move exactly how he wanted her.

“Chin up, please.”

“Raise your hand a little.”

“Turn slightly to the right.”

“Look away from the camera.”

She posed and posed, while he snapped away. It took hours. The whole morning had passed. He needed it to be perfectly imperfect. Although skilled in professional photography and supermodels being his area of expertise, Brielle was new territory for him. He had to find a way to sell the young distressed girl from the Harlem bar, with deer-like beauty, to the executives at Vogue.

They were looking for the next big thing. And while their eyes were on the next Bella Hadid or Kendall Jenner, he had something better in mind. Something more refreshing and relatable. When destiny placed him right on a path to spotting Brielle in that bar, he felt his whole life about to change forever. And it did. Right along with hers.

She wore stardom well. Fame fit her like it was custom made. The “It Girl.” Thats what they were calling her. Known for her doe eyes, the beauty mark, and her sharp east coast wit. She rose to the top of the food chain at what seemed like the speed of light. Everything had moved so fast. The flashing lights of cameras blinded her at every corner. A new city, a new country every other week. A complete one-eighty for a girl who prior to signing with her modeling agency, had never been outside of New York. 

She was partying with the A-listers and whoever was above them at the top of the social food chain. Gracing the cover of over three hundred magazines, both national and international. The most desired runway model of her peers. She was being pulled and stretched thin. She was zooming through life in the fast line, picking up nasty habits just to keep up. She was swimming in millions, so stopping or even slowing down wasn't an option.

The general public had their eyes glued to her. She picked up the attention of CEOs, NBA players, actors, and anyone else who mattered. Brielle had always been the kind of girl to live her life on the go. Never limiting herself to one man because she saw herself as too much woman for just one anyhow. She dated and fucked them all. Spent their money well and had them hanging off the edge of their seat for more. None of them stuck. None of them were special or so different from the one before. That was until she crossed paths with WWE Superstar, Roman Reigns, or as she would come to know him as, Joseph Anoa’i.

One erotic night spent with him after an ESPY Awards afterparty, and it couldn’t have been more clear to her that he had to be hers. She’d keep this one for herself. He was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Joe was a go-getter, just like her. They were cut from the same cloth. The breadwinners of their family, paving the way and making it seamless for everyone who came after them. 

When she found herself in Joe’s orbit, that fast life filled with nasty habits, slowed down a bit. Nothing else mattered. It's like they were the only two on planet earth and everything else was just distant noise. 

They married only three months after knowing each other. When you know, you just know. Of course the public had their opinions about how they were just another Hollywood couple that wouldn’t last, but majority of the world adored them. 

The wedding was like a national holiday. Vogue did an entire spread of them and it was flying off the shelves. That cover would be the one to define the entire state of stardom in their generation. It was everywhere. Joe sitting open-shirt, with Brielle and her half a million dollar Givenchy wedding gown, on his lap. Picture perfect.

Fiji was their honeymoon destination. An entire week off the grid. Nothing but love making, skinny dipping in the waterfall caves, and two people who couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, celebrating a whole lifetime they had left to get tangled in each other’s web.

Returning to the states was like entering into another level of life. It seemed her instantaneous marriage to Joe, took her status from superstar to legendary. She was Dior’s new muse and Joe was her older, wealthy, athletic husband. For the first time in all of Brielle’s twenty-five years of living, she was happy.

But that was back then. Three years later the stakes are higher. She’s adapted and now her ideas of what happiness is, have changed. She’d have to go back to the drawing board to figure out exactly what she wanted out of life. There were just a few hurdles and demons she’d have to address before then.

Her alcohol dependence for one. While most supermodels indulged in coke or popping pills, Brielle’s fatal flaw was alcohol. It started off as her just blacking out at parties like everyone else would. Then it escalated. She became the party girl. Always dancing on tables. Skinny dipping in someone’s pool. It was harmless until she started getting into scuffles in nightclubs. TMZ catching her and Joe having a screaming match where she was obviously drunk. Picking fights and starting shit with him at public events, like the one they were at now. 

She clung to drinking because it helped her cope, especially lately, with the fact that the life she was doused in and became accustomed to, wouldn’t always be. It haunted her.

All models have an expiration date. She dreaded the day when it came. It would come like a thief in the night she had heard. One day she’d be trending, booked and shoved on every platform possible. The next day it would all vanish. She’d go from being Joe’s sexy, young, supermodel wife, to just his wife. 

Alcohol was her companion. Alcohol was there on the lonely nights, early mornings, and impossibly long days. Alcohol was there on nights like tonight, when she felt alone in a room full of people. When her mind was overrun by dark thoughts of the unforeseeable future, where her career and everything she worked for would be in limbo. 

Joe just didn’t get it. Women were treated accordingly based on their looks. Men were treated accordingly based on their pockets. He could be retired and worn out and they’d still love him as long as he was paid. This wasn’t her reality. And there bore another disconnect in their marriage.

She loved Joe. There was no denying that. A blind man didn’t need to see it, because just by standing within two feet of them he would be able to feel it. From the night they met, neither could ignore the magnet-like, invisible force, urging them to one another. First night, nothing but heat and passion transpired between them. And it stayed that way every night after, only growing. But sometimes passion painted an ugly picture. People were passionate about addiction. Others passionate about racism. Passion is not synonymous with healthy.

They came colliding into one another from two different worlds, seemingly at the same pace. Young, hungry, and swimming in new money. Only he was oil and she was water. Brielle just always felt like a jaguar in a room full of house cats. Completely out of place. Out of her element. Too much. Their worlds just didn’t mix. Or so she thought…

“Brielle?” A feminine voice questioned not too far from behind her. 

Brielle paused her idle twisting of the wedding ring, weighing her left hand down, to turn to the voice in question.

A yellow-boned, thin woman, as tall as her stared back with an infectious grin. She had thick, wavy curls, cascading down her back. The emerald green silk gown she wore only enhancing her smooth skin. The bitch was bad and still, Brielle couldn’t pinpoint where she knew her from.  Brielle’s eyes somehow landed on the red birthmark that adorned the mystery woman’s right hand and it hit her like a wrecking ball.

“Millie?” Her head dipped. “Oh my god.” The two beauties conjoined in a hug and rocked side to side chuckling in equal disbelief that they had found one another. “What are you doing here?”

“Girl, modeling was a bust. Trying to dip my toes into this sports journalism thing. I’ve just been interviewing some of the guys on the roster before Summerslam next week.”

Millie had been one of the very few models Brielle took a liking to during her early years doing runway. During her first fashion week they were glued to each other’s hip. Exchanging gossip,  sex stories, walking tips and beauty secrets. 

It had been nearly two years since she laid eyes on her. It's like she had vanished from the face of the earth. That happened a lot in the modeling industry. So many pretty faces came and went. It was hard to keep up. She chalked it up to her probably getting sent to rehab for a coke problem or something. Thats usually where the models disappeared to. That or a billionaire from another country scooped them up.

Born to two Cuban immigrants, Millie was just trying to get ahead in the city of dreams, but nothing about her stood out to scouts and labels. She had a killer walk, but runway was all she could pull off. Her face card was exceptional, but it wasn't memorable. And anything other than memorable in the modeling world would get one tossed and forgotten quick.

“Where’s Joe?” Millie’s eyes danced around the room.

Brielle’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of her husband. His name fell so comfortably from the girl’s plump lips, it's like she’s said it a thousand times over.

“Joe?” Usually people who didn’t know him referred to him by his stage name, Roman. Millie had to have been somewhat familiar with him to call him by his name.

“Yeah,” she waved almost with a child-like giddiness once she found him across the way. He put a big hand up and nodded once to acknowledge her. Brielle tried to keep her face neutral, observing the whole exchange.

“Y-you know Joe?”

“Of course I do. He didn’t tell you?” She grinned wide.

Only Brielle’s eyes looked around in wonder. “Tell me what?” She chuckled to ease the underlying tension.

“Joe and I dated. Way, way back in the day.”

“Dated?” Her doe eyes became significantly wider. “Well, when was this?” She probed through a tight, manufactured smile as to not throw Millie off.

“Oh, girl,” the Latin beauty waved a dainty hand chuckling. “That was so long ago. He was still with The Shield, then. Didn’t even have a full beard.” Brielle tried to swallow an insult. It was on the tip of her tongue as she watched Millie eye her husband with nostalgia all in her gaze. No, she wanted her to keep spilling. She knew Joe would downplay it, so this was her best bet at collecting the truth.

“I was so happy for you guys after the proposal.” Millie finally snatched her eyes from Joe to focus on Brielle. “And that cover and spread in Italian Vogue? Fucking iconic…” It was now Brielle’s turn to burn a hole through her husband. She tried her best to not let the thoughts running through her mind, show on her face, but it was all in the vein that made itself visible on her forehead. The constant rubbing of her fingertips. If Millie touched her, she’d probably jump like she had come in contact with a stovetop burner. “It's crazy though,” Millie continued with her head cocked to the side. “Joe never struck me as the marrying type. Don’t get me wrong he’s an absolute sweetheart. I just couldn’t see him sitting in one spot long enough for just one woman to catch his attention. I guess men really do change for who they want to,” Millie finished with a drawn out sigh.

“Yeah. I guess they do, huh…”

“Well, this was a shock.” Millie stretched her arms out and Brielle came in for another hug. Her smile faded once she rested her chin on her shoulder and reemerged after pulling back.

“It was really nice to see you, Mills. Good luck on the whole journalism thing.”

Millie flashed Brielle another bright smile and walked off in a direction she wasn’t paying attention to because she was too busy glaring at Joe still.

There were days when Brielle took into account what the public had said about her marriage. That it was fake. For publicity. Or that it simply wouldn’t last because of how fast the two seemingly fell in love. 

They didn’t waste any time. Fucked on the first night. Vacationed together a week after. He was moving her in just a month later. Before Brielle knew it, he was down on one knee asking her to spend the rest of her life with him. Her infatuation with the kindhearted man who looked like he could kill anyone with his bare hands, drove her decision. She loved the way he took charge of his life and career, and turned the entire business in his family’s favor. How he kicked cancer’s ass. How every room he went in, people couldn’t help but to stop and stare.

It seems they did everything backwards. Got all the big hurdles out the way and worked their way down. Brielle found herself at times dumbfounded at just how little she knew about Joe’s past. Too many times she’s had to sit and listen to someone tell her something about the man she slept next to.

She’s not stupid. Of course there were women before her. I mean look at him. But a model? Models were such superficial creatures. Always caught up in glamour and materialistic matters. Joe was too grounded and down to earth in Brielle’s mind to bat an eye at what the world viewed as a mannequin. She thought she was the exception. Clearly not.

From across the way, Joe caught his wife staring at him again. His mouth curved into a smirk and he winked at her.

“Sexy, two-faced bastard,” she mumbled bringing the glass of vodka to her lips.

The couple rode back to their penthouse in an uncomfortable silence. After any event, the partition  was rolled up so Brielle could bless her man whatever way she saw fit. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But tonight, she clung to the left door in the back of the black Suburban, eyes never leaving the tinted window, gazing at the bright lights that decorated the city. 

Joe gave a harsh side eye to her. The deliberate space she placed between them by crossing her legs to the door was a dead give away that she was pissed. Physical touch was a shared love language between them. The absence of it could be felt immediately.

He refused to gauge what the issue was in such a confined space. That mistake was made several times before and never ended well. He’d have to wait until they were alone and in the comfort of their own space.

She didn’t realize, but his eyes were on her all night while she threw each glass the bartender fed her back like it was the fountain of youth. When Jey found him they both exchanged looks. It didn’t need to be said. The soft spot Joe’s cousin grew for Brielle, couldn’t overshadow his concern for her obvious drinking problem. He and his brother Jimmy got a front row seat to the downfall of America’s beloved couple. Too many nights having to chase an intoxicated Brielle down, or dragging them apart from verbally destroying each other.

All night, Joe’s anxiety grew like wildfire with every drink and every minute that passed where he couldn’t just leave with her. Now, in the backseat of the truck, he rubbed his forehead already feeling a headache from the argument that hadn’t even happened yet. He wished he could just press a button and fast forward to the part where they fucked and forgot about whatever the problem was.

When they got to their building, she stormed out of the car not bothering to wait for the driver or Joe to open her door like usual. Ignoring the doorman and the lady at the front desk she usually greets, her heels clicked aggressively on the marble floor of the lobby all the way to the elevator. 

Joe stood behind her near the back elevator wall. He bit his bottom lip at the deep line in her back that led to her perky ass. Even with her attitude, he had the urge to rip her clothes off and fuck it right out of her. The elevator dinged when they reached the top floor. She wasted no time breezing fiercely through the foyer area, and collecting the bottom of her gown in her hands to stomp up the wooden floating stairs.

“Brielle, bring your ass back down here.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. Brielle had fell in love with the way he could make the world and everyone in it shift without doing too much. Not tonight though. No, tonight the control he had over her pissed her off to no end. She turned around in the middle of the steps, but defiantly didn’t make a move to come down. Instead she stood her ground and crossed her arms like a child about to be grounded.

“Alright. Let’s get this shit over with.” He removed the suit jacket and laid it over the back of the all white loveseat and rested his hands on his hips. “What has pissed Brielle off tonight, huh?”

“Besides the fact that my husband has been passed around?” She shrugged throwing the first punch. “I don’t know.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “You wanna elaborate, sweetheart?”

“You and Millie? Why didn’t I know that you two dated?”

“Dated is a very generous word. More like slept together.”

“Don’t try to downplay it, okay? Doesn’t matter what happened between you two. Why did I have to hear it from her?”

“I don't understand what’s pissed you off? The fact that I’ve fucked with other women before you?”

“I’m not talking about other women.” She slapped the back of her hand to her other palm sharply. “I’m talking about one woman. A woman I considered a friend. A friend I told you about!”

His shoulders shrugged almost high enough to reach his ears. “Why does it matter? You knew her like two years ago—”

“It doesn’t matter if I knew her ten years ago, damn it!” She stormed down the stairs and brushed past him to the kitchen. Unbuttoning his shirt, he shook his head knowing what she went in there for. More alcohol.

Cabinets opened and shut continuously, until he heard her heels making their way back to the living room. She stood across from him vexed.

“I threw it out,” he answered the question she didn’t have to ask. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he was ready for however she would react. 

She scoffed and giggled at once. “Don’t you think my drinking is the last thing you should be worried about right now?”

“What could be more important than you getting healthy?”

She rolled her eyes looking to the ceiling with a forced smile. “I can’t believe this. I sat there all night watching you work the room. By myself! While you work, you expect me to just sit in a corner like a fucking mannequin? Smile and look pretty, right? Don’t say a word, don’t draw too much attention? Well tell me, Joe, what would you have done tonight?” She held a hand up. “Oh wait! Don't let me forget, just when the night couldn’t get any worse, I have to hear the horror story of how my husband and my friend used to fuck!”

“You are so fucking ungrateful,” he shook his head removing his cufflinks. “Unbelievable.”

“Un—” She scoffed. “Ungrateful?” She turned her head as if she didn’t hear him right.

“Thats right,” he nodded with a face void of any expression. “Look around you. Look at where you are.” He spread his toned arms out wide. “In a penthouse overlooking all of Brooklyn. Five  hundred thousand dollar dress on. Closet full of designer that could feed a fucking third-world country. Fucking thousand dollar sculptures from Italy, just for it to sit on a glass table all day.” Brielle flinched at the Versace Rokko Cheetah sculpture flying to the other side of the room and shattering. Just as quick, she straightened up, knowing he wasn’t crazy enough to take his frustrations out on her that way.

“What’s your point, Joe?” 

“My fucking point is, I put you on the highest pedestal possible and I work my ass off every day to make sure you can live like this. And all you seem to be worried about is some bitch I was smashing, back when I used to bring a damn blow up mattress with me to arenas?” He squinted in disbelief. 

“You’re missing my whole point!”

“What point?!”

Back and forth they shouted, but still neither one of them heard the other. It was all pointless. Just a battle of pride and resentment.

“Oh my god,” he threw his hands up. “Oh my god. This is fucking stupid. I can’t believe this, is what you want to fight about.”

Brielle’s chest stung and her eyes followed suit. Her feelings were stupid now. Just a blimp on his star-studded life. There was a point in time, where every little need, every little voice of discomfort, he would fall at his feet to correct for her. 

She turned and rushed up the steps. She was overwhelmed and refused to keep the yelling match up. In their walk-in closet, she let the dress fall and pool around her feet, to change into her mint-colored Juicy Couture sweatsuit. She stuffed an LV duffel with clothes and headed to the bathroom next to sweep everything that was hers off the counter and into the bag.

Unfazed by her theatrics, Joe sat on the couch downstairs, shaking his head at all the ruckus she was making. 

“G’head,” he waved. “Leave. You’ll be back anyway.”

“Fuck you, Joe!”

“Yeah, sure.” He sat back on the cream colored couch, arms outstretched, dress shirt unbuttoned, without a care in the world.

Brielle and him both knew she wasn’t going anywhere. It was the same shit every time. They’d argue and fuss all night, she’d threaten to leave, packing a bag to stay in an expensive hotel, paid for with his black card. He’d show up with an expensive gift. Usually jewelry. Maybe a bag by some designer that hadn’t even hit the shelves yet. A trip to an island she had never been before. Shoes. Those were her favorite. She had a whole collection in the walk-in, courtesy of Joe. Each pair she could pinpoint which argument it was a result of.

After the grand gift, it was make up sex and they’d be in the honeymoon phase for two weeks tops, then the cycle repeats. Joe had grown tired of it. Two years ago it was exciting and far left from the good girls with degrees he was used to.

Brielle was a breath of fresh air until her ways started to suffocate him. She had a personality that was larger than life and an attitude to match. Included in the packaging was a love so fiery and consuming, you forget to breathe. And although he had seen enough, been through enough, and was old enough to know better, he still found himself from time to time gasping for air after forgetting to breathe around her.

She was like a drug. Potent, exhilarating, and unpredictable. He was hooked. And unfortunately for the both of them, he wouldn’t know how to get off her even if he tried.

Bag slung over her shoulder, she made her way back downstairs and all the way to the door.

“Brielle…” The sound of his baritone voice had her frozen in place. He closed his eyes and inhaled deep from his nose. “You walk out that door and you gon’ be sorry.”

“I just need space—”

“Then pick a room. It's real spacious in here.”

Brielle turned and made her pursuit back to the stairs. He wasn’t going to let her leave tonight. She didn’t just want space, she wanted the one thing she depended on when it felt like the walls of her life were closing in on her. And he was actively trying to take that away from her.

“I hate you,” she spat with venom in all three words.

The foot that was previously propped up on the glass coffee table came down as he sat up, elbows rested on his knees.

“Im sorry…what?” 

“You heard me.” She started back up the floating steps, but halted upon seeing him rise to his full height in her peripheral. She had only made it to the third step. She turned in place and there he was at the bottom, eye level now.

“You wanna repeat that again, while I’m standing right here in your face?” He dared, hands clasped in front of him.

She knew better than to test him. Hate wasn't something they just tossed back and forth. Irritation, maybe. Disgust even. But hate? Joe didn’t play that shit. Not with her or anybody else in his circle.

He nodded with his tongue just barely teasing the hairs on the side of his mouth. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“That fucking character you play,” she squinted looking him up and down. “It’s not a fucking character! You’re a narcissistic, manipulative, controlling—”

“You were singing a whole different tune this morning.” Her mind flashed to just fourteen hours prior when he was balls deep, quite literally driving her up the shower wall. In the aftermath they held each other as she told him how much he meant to her and how he changed her life. The man from this morning and the one in front of her were two different men with the same face.

She shook her head holding back tears. “You’re never who I need you to be when I need you to be it,” she exaggerated. Joe always knew who to be. Always knew exactly where it hurt. If he showed up as something different it was seldom and with purposeful intent.

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Well maybe if you opened your fucking mouth and told me what you needed, I could provide it. But, no. You’d rather look for answers at the bottom of a shot glass! So tell me, Brielle—tell me! What do you need?!”

“I don’t know!” She screamed in frustration and was snatched off the steps by the front of her hoodie.

Their lips collided. Two tornadoes full of angst coming together to form what was their complicated ass marriage. 

See, Joseph Anoa’i the man outside of the ring was delicate and considerate. He displayed affection as much as he could and never touched Brielle with any thing less than love. However, the man he was in the bedroom, or wherever else he saw fit to take Brielle down, was a beast. Unforgiving and relentless. His ring persona, Roman Reigns, took over him like he had a split personality. He manipulated, tossed and flipped Brielle’s slim frame however he wanted her. Narcissistic in the way he couldn't care less if he hit it so hard that she couldn’t breathe.

Tonight was no different. As a matter of fact, tonight he had something to prove. It was deeper than just make up sex, or angry sex. He intended to break Brielle down. Resentment and frustration grew inside of him like weeds, all stemming from Brielle’s misbehaved, toxic and unpolished ways whenever she got an ounce of liquor in her. The garden was no longer pretty. He was tired of faking the funk. He was going to put his foot down tonight, making sure she felt all the consequences of her actions.

His big hands slid down to the back of her knees, hiking her up so her long legs could wrap around his waist. He never broke the connection. His thick tongue continued to invade her mouth, claiming what’s his.

The pair expended all their breath and stole more from one another. That was the complicated formula of their bond. Give and take. Take then give.

Brielle stared up in awe at the god before her after he released her onto their all white couch. Every ridge and line in his abdomen telling a story of his hard work and dedication to his craft. He removed the black button up to reveal the rest of the artwork on his right arm, never breaking eye contact with his wife. His manhood made an impressive print through his slacks as it begged for freedom.

Brielle wasn’t moving fast enough for him. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. She was too mesmerized by the sight of him. Good enough to eat, she thought. Every time she saw his body it felt like the first time.

He tore the zipper of her Juicy hoodie down in such haste to reveal her chocolate nipples, he broke it. Before Brielle could complain, she was flipped over and put on all fours. The waistband of her sweats were pulled down to her knees, exposing her warm core to the cold air.

A gasp escaped her lips as they fell wide open from the feeling of his entire mouth latching onto her most sensitive nerve. The entirety of his palms covered both ass cheeks, as he spread them apart to feast on her.

He didn’t have the patience for formalities. She didn’t deserve it anyway. He attacked her clit, switching from sucking and licking with broad strokes of his tongue.

 “Oh my—fuckkkk.” Brielle was stuck between pushing back into his mouth and running from it completely. She wouldn’t get far. The grip his rough hands established on her ass would lock her in place.

“Sweet ass,” he mumbled into her. He pulled away for a second to bite down on her left cheek before going back to eating. A pit of pure ecstasy formed in her lower stomach impossibly fast. She shut her eyes tight, prepared to explode, listening to the wet sounds of him demolishing her and his hefty breaths. Her breathing accelerated while she reached for the pillow to gain some type of hold. And just when she thought she would reach her peak, she was left with nothing.

Joe pulled completely away once he decided she was ready for him. Something like a whimper left her pouted lips. He took his time unbuckling his pants and releasing himself from the confines of his briefs.

“Stay down,” he demanded in a dark tone that sent a chill down her spine.

Brielle felt like a junkie, waiting and barely able to keep still. Joe’s tongue slid out over his top lip at the masterpiece before him. His supermodel wife, bent over and her wet, fat center exposed, waiting for him. His dick jumped and he grabbed the base of it to align with her pussy.

His thick mushroom head glided along her arousal, coating himself to prepare for entry. She struggled to keep still. He kept grazing over her sensitive bud and it was torture. She knew he was doing it on purpose. It was wicked how he watched her desperate, contorted face and listened to her pants knowing he could put an end to her misery.

“Joe—Uhnn!” Brielle release a guttural moan from him pushing himself all the way in and bottoming out. Joe stayed there for a minute trying to brace himself. The grip and slickness always felt brand new. She was a hot head with an even hotter pussy, making it nearly impossible to leave her alone. He’d lose his mind just at the thought of another getting to experience this after him.

Without warning he palmed the back of her neck so her face was flush against the couch cushion and he snapped his hips against hers repeatedly. Mercilessly.

“Get off me.” He shoved the arm she reached back, careful not to lose his rhythm. Although small, as a result of her strict diet and expensive Lagree classes, that ass still jiggled with every thrust.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ahh!” She moaned out every time he shoved his thickness back into her. 

“Shut up,” he jerked his hips as far as they could go and got comfortable. It felt too good to move and he was determined to make her lose her fucking mind.

Brielle’s mouth fell wide open. She didn’t know what she felt. The line between pain and pleasure started to blur. She reached a hand back, in another attempt to make him ease up, but he caught it just in time and pinned it behind her small back in a vice grip.

“Joe—

“Shut the fuck up,” his top lip curled, thrusting into her again with the same force as before. “I don’t wanna hear none of that shit. Fucking take it.” His free hand came down hard on her ass, immediately causing red welts to form.

Brielle was a glutton for punishment. Her pussy contracted and it was so wet she could hear the squishy noises like somebody was playing in running water.

“You hear that shit, Bri?”

“Yes, baby. She’s so wet for you."

“At least she’s honest.” His breathing was erratic as he tried to talk shit and fuck her at the same time. “She always shows me love.” His hand came down again and he relished at the sight of her ass with new welts forming.

“Fuck!” She cried. Another smack. Then another. His pace never faltering. He let his bottom lip sink between his teeth, concentrating on how his dick slid in and out of her effortlessly. She left him shining and covered in white stuff. Every stroke wetter than the last.

“You hate me, Bri?” His eyebrows furrowed. She tried her best to look back at him. A sheen of sweat covered him and his hair had fell wildly over his broad shoulders.

Joe’s battle with leukemia had him holding everyone he loved in a vice grip, close to his chest, fearing the day he ever had to let go. He didn’t have the luxury to invite negativity and hate of all things into his space. Which is why when Brielle expressed it earlier, it triggered something in him.

Brielle shook her head as much as she could. “No—no!”

“Huh?”

His larger frame hovered over hers as he leaned over and gripped the back of the couch to push harder into it from a different angle.

“Oh god! No—baby I swear I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it. Fu-uuuck!” Her voice shook as she tried to reason with him.

“Tell daddy how sorry you are,” he toyed with her. Joe only needed to hear it for his own ego. He already knew she was sorry. She looked the part. Brows turned down, hands reaching and grasping to hold onto something, while she struggled to breathe and keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. Pathetic.

She tried to catch her breath and fulfill his wishes, but his every move sent a shockwave of pleasure right through her. All she could focus on was the feeling happening where they connected.

“Say it,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, daddy. It won’t happen again!”

“Yeah, I know it won’t. Mhm, fuck.” His ways were backfiring on him as he felt the pressure for release build in his lower stomach.

Slowing his movements down, his hand came down on her ass again. “Come on,” he instructed. She already knew the drill, rocking back and forth on him at her own pace to help them both get to the finish line.

Together they ogled at one another. Brielle in complete awe at what he was doing to her body. Joe mesmerized by the beauty below him and trying to reconcile how she became his biggest problem.

He loved the fuck out of her. Would do anything for her. His favorite accomplishment. He vowed to spend the rest of his life with her, but everyday they spent together, that dream grew more out of reach.

How could something so ethereal looking be so problematic? So angry? So insecure?

Small whimpers and cries spilled from her throat before she made a declaration that calmed him as much as it terrified him.

“I’m gonna love you forever,” she declared. It was like a hex. A spell. Binding him to her forever. Cause the hard unshakeable truth was that as long as Brielle wanted him here, he’d never leave. No matter how many fights, how many crash outs, public incidents, he knew leaving her alone would leave him suffering.

Against his initial mission to punish her, his soft nature took control. He leaned all the way down to capture her plump lips in a kiss. He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses from her mouth to her cheek, until he reached her ear. Whispering a mix of loving reassurances and vile obscenities to her.

“I love you so much, Bri. Keep fucking me, baby. Just like that. Yesss. You feel so good,” he encouraged in between huffs of breath. “It’s all yours baby. Take it. Just yours. Nobody else’s.” His deep voice directly in her ear and the smell of her own arousal lingering on his beard, sent her body into overdrive as her pussy spasmed around him.

Brielle’s orgasm caused a chain of reactions. His dick swelled inside her while his balls tightened. At the last second he pulled out and covered her round ass with his release. She wasn’t on birth control and loathed the idea of kids ruining her physique.

He stroked himself until the last of his cum oozed out and threw his head back. “Mm,” he groaned. Shame on Brielle. She laid on the couch, head spinning from the beating she just took mixed with all the shots she took earlier. She was just about ready to call it a night, but Joe had other plans.

“Not done with ya ass yet. Come show me how sorry you are.” Like he had just ran a match fighting off guys twice his size in the ring, his chest rose and fell as his voice became menacingly deep.

His tall frame stood in the living room, widening his stance with his hips slightly pushed forward. His dick was covered in her essence, still hard as a rock, swaying slightly from him shifting his weight back and forth on both legs.

She climbed down from the couch, knowing better than to make him wait. Crawling like the feline she was at heart, she stopped right in front of him. God, he was just fucking perfect. All she really wanted to do was climb on him and drag another nut out, but it had to wait.

Placing her dainty hands on his muscular thighs, she gazed up him and ducked slightly to swirl her tongue on his large balls. "Yeah," he breathed deep, savoring the feeling of her warm mouth.

She took his heavy dick in her hand, giving the tip teasing licks and swirls. The visual of her on her knees worshiping him was a sight to see as she gathered spit and let it ooze onto him before sinking his length into her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing him as far as she possible could.

“Look at me,” he instructed in a guttural tone followed by a moan. It was music to her ears. Everything about him turned her on. She studied him and the look of mixed lust and love he provided as their eyes locked, prompting her to slide a hand down and rub herself. “That’s right. Get it wet for me.” He rocked back and forth in her mouth, on the brink of another orgasm that quick. She watched the muscles in his abdomen flex from trying to hold his nut in.

He gathered her long silky tresses into somewhat of a ponytail in his hands and pushed her head down to hit the back of her throat repeatedly.

Going as far as her throat allowed he held her there and instinctively her hands pushed at his strong thighs. Tears spilled out the corner of her eyes feeling his warm release coat her throat.

“Aghh!” He threw his head back, going to a whole different realm for a while and coming back down to earth. He looked down at the beauty below him. Mouth still full of him, mascara running, with spit decorating her chin and chest. She looked perfect to him like this. Vulnerable. Submissive. But he knew it was all just a result of the circumstances. This version of her would be long gone and forgotten in the days to come. So he decided right then, he would take full advantage while he could.

He hissed upon sliding out of her mouth as her cheeks sunk in. He lifted her up with one arm and she wrapped her legs around him. His other hand found his still semi-hard thickness to ease into her. Together they exhaled when he slid in. The feeling of her had him bricked back up in no time.

"Hold on. Tighter," he instructed. He maneuvered her long legs in crook of his arms before moving her up and down at full force. All gas no brakes.

Joe hummed softly to himself, turning in the California King bed toward his wife. It was late. Their night didn’t end until the wee hours of the morning. He immediately knocked out when it was over. He was exhausted mentally and physically.

Brielle however, couldn’t quiet her mind long enough to sleep. He found her wide awake, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room. The city lights from their bedroom window cascaded over her enough for him to see her face. Something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” He questioned in a sleepy voice.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Then come here.” When she didn’t make a move to come closer to him, his eyebrows dented. She lay frozen in place, as the noice from the city took away from the eerie silence in the room.

“Do you think I need help?”

Joe released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. They had this conversation before. Too many times. Only it was never a conversation. Mostly an argument of some sort. Him complaining and practically begging her to get help. Trying to reason and get her to see that drinking at every event, at every inconvenience, just wasn’t normal. That it was killing them. Killing her.

“Doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think about yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “…I don’t know.” He watched a single tear slide out the corner of her eye. He wanted to blame his own eyes beginning to sting on him being a natural empath, but he knew that wasn’t the whole truth. He loved this woman. So by default, whatever she felt he also felt times ten.

“I used to look in the mirror and loved what I saw. I was confident. Proud of what I was. And that was when I had nothing. I was a nobody three years ago. Now i’m somebody and I just feel so empty…”

Seeing a glimpse of the girl he met years ago, who snatched his heart from his chest with no remorse, had him frozen in place. Vulnerability was not a dress Brielle wore often. He bore a hole into the side of her face while she confided in him.

“All the flashing lights, the cameras, the money…I don’t know if i’ll be able to handle the day it all stops. I don’t think I know who I am without it anymore. I never meant for it to go this far.”

Joe took her dainty hand in his and squeezed. An attempt to let her know that everything was going to be okay. But the truth of the matter is that he didn’t know if everything would be okay. He knew he loved her and that she loved him right back. Only problem with that? The saddest truth about life is that sometimes love is just not enough.

….Well?😂

I know y’all were asking for a continuation of Biggest Fan, but I already had this in the tuck and was hyper fixating. Plus, I’m not entirely sure I want to continue Biggest Fan yet since I didn’t plan on it. I’ll keep y’all updated.

As always, if you read up until this point, I am forever grateful. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

taglist: @raya-hunter01

[dirtywrestling]

The Vampire at the Masquerade Ball - Drew McIntyre (18+)

Commission: @thepalaceofmelanie

Pairing: Vampire!Drew Mcintyre x  Melanie

Summary: Going to a masquerade ball with your friend and running into a handsome man named Drew Mcintyre who has a secret.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Talking about ex boyfriends, Past relationships, Vampire x Female!Reader, Vampire!Drew Mcintyre, Foul Language, masquerade ball, Minors DNI

Word Count: 3,818

Follow My Backup Blog!: @dirtywresling102

I looked at myself in the mirror, my black dress was a bit snug on me, but not in an uncomfortable way. My curled hair rested over my shoulders, my make up was freshly put on not long after doing my hair. Grabbing the silver glittery mask I placed it on my face, tying it behind my head. 

“Damn dude, you look good.” Peyton giggled, fiddling with her ear rings. “I’m sure you’ll forget about-”

“Please.” I interrupted her. “Please, don’t bring him up.” I begged. Truth be told, I didn’t even want to go to this masquerade ball, but Peyton’s father was throwing it for his business and she insisted that I attend it with her. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment ever since my ex dumped me for another girl. I found out that I was basically his side woman. He’s been talking to this other female half of our relationship over snapchat, they met on instagram I found out later on. We got this apartment to take our relationship to the next step but he left me with all of the bills. 

“Anyways, you look hot as hell. I’m sure you’ll meet someone at the ball.” Peyton smiled, handing me my black high heels.

“Or let’s hope that there’s an open bar so I can drink.” I murmured under my breath as I slipped into my heels. 

“Oh Melanie, of course there will be an open bar.” She teased. “But I don’t want to see you drinking your sorrows away, I want you to find a nice guy to dance with, exchange numbers and who knows, start a new life with?” Peyton thought out loudly.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I looked at myself in the mirror one last time.

Peyton sighed, “If you insist, then fine.” She handed me my purse. “Let’s go, the limo is outside.” 

Locking up my apartment, Peyton and I took the elevator down to the lobby and headed towards the limo.

Sitting in the backseat of the limo, Peyton grabbed two crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne. “Something for us to get started on.” She wiggled her eyebrows. I couldn’t help but to give her a little smile. “There’s that smile, now,” She popped open the bottle, champagne quickly bubbled from the top and poured into the glasses. “Let’s party!” She handed me my glass and I took a sip of the rich alcohol. Finishing the drink in one gulp, I swayed the glass in front of her, wanting more.

“Okay, okay. I got the hint.” She rolled her eyes, pouring more of the creamy liquid. “Easy on this stuff, I don’t want you drunk before we get there.” Peyton put the bottle back in a bucket full of ice, letting it chill. 

Arriving at the building, the chofer parked the limo, climbed out and opened the door closest to the entrance. “You ladies have a wonderful night, Peyton just text me and I’ll come and get you two when you’re ready to be taken home.” 

“Thank’s Al, you’re the best.” She giggled, kissing the older gentleman’s cheek. A bright blush appeared on Al’s cheeks, clearing his throat he closed the door and got back into the driver’s seat. “Let’s party!” She squealed, rushing up towards the doors. 

“Let’s just get this over with.” I signed myself, following Peyton to the door security was there blocking it. 

“Name?” The tall security guard asked, his voice deep.

“Fuck you, that’s who.” Peyton spat, sticking out her tongue she walked past the two. 

My face heated up from Peyton’s behavior. “My apologies, she gets like this when alcohol is in her system.” 

“It’s okay ma’am, you and Peyton can go right in.” A smaller male opened the door for us. Walking through the doors, I looked over my shoulders, seeing the smaller security guard talking to the larger one, probably explaining who Peyton was and who her father is. 

Catching up to Peyton I panted softly, I forgot how hard it was to walk in heels. “Peyton, you can’t treat people like that.” I told her, but she of course wasn’t listening. She was lost, looking at the sea of people in front of us. “What? What is it?” I asked, adjusting the mask on my face. 

“Do you see all of this fresh meat here?” She was basically licking her lips.

“Don’t address them like that.” I said a bit weirdly at how her eyes dilated and how her mouth was basically watering over how many men were in one room. “Come on! Let’s go have some fun!” She giggled, wrapping my hand and rushed me towards the crowd. 

It felt like hours went by, Peyton introduced me to so many men in the building. Some weren’t interested, some were too interested and others were interested in Peyton. Now sitting on a bar stool sipping some fruity cocktail, I lost Peyton awhile ago, some guy she was trying to introduce to me got her attention and they ran off together in the crowded dance floor. 

Music played throughout the speakers, people came and others left with someone they met from here. “Hey Melanie!” Turning my head slightly I saw Peyton swaying, leaning up against a tall handsome male with a cute smile. “This is Jordan.” 

“It’s Jake.” The man named Jake arched his eyebrow, looking down at her. 

“Whatever, anyways, Jacky and I are leaving, you can get a ride home right?” She slurred her words, her breath smelt of alcohol. 

“Well, uh actually-”

“Great! Text me tomorrow, I want to know all the details from tonight when you hook up with that lucky man.” She giggled, leaning against the male named Jake. “Let’s go Jack.”

“It’s Jake.” He reminded her once again.

“I said let’s go!” She barked. 

With that, Jake basically carried her out of the building. Facing the bar again someone caught my eye, looking to my left I saw a male in a tight white button up shirt and a black mask that looked like it didn’t need any strings to be on his face, it fitted him perfectly, he had long dark hair that passed his shoulders. “To a night of partying.” I raised my glass to him and downed it. 

The handsome stranger gave me a sly smile, raising his glass of liquor and downed it in one gulp as well. Tearing my eyes away from him, I slid off of the stool and started to walk around, trying to find a bathroom. Finally spotting the bathroom signs, I started to make my way through the crowd, squeezing past people and apologizing. People kept dancing around, someone accidently pushed me into another person. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I apologized quickly to the gentleman with the silver mask tied around his face. 

“Melaine? Is that you?” 

Turning to the stranger again my heart sank, I recognized those eyes anywhere. “Dean?” I wheezed, feeling very uncomfortable being around him. “What uh, what are you doing here?” I asked, looking around to see if he was with the girl he cheated on me with.

“I’m here with a few friends.” He shrugged. “Look, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.” He swallowed, looking down and looking back up at me.

“What?” I blinked at him, I wasn’t expecting to run into him tonight, especially wasn’t expecting an apology. 

“She was uh… Catfish.” He murmured shamefully. “It was actually a fifty-four year old male who was using his friend’s nieces’ pictures.” 

There was an awkward pause, people around us kept dancing and drinking, music played through the big speakers. “Well, uh I’m sorry to hear that.” I fidgeted with my fingers, not sure if it was due to anxiety by him or if it was because I had to use the restroom.

“Take me back.” Dean grabbed my hand, holding it tightly. 

“What?” I couldn’t help but to laugh, he had the nerves to say that after what he did to me and not to mention I’m stuck in a lease for a whole year. “No.” I tried to pull my hand back, away from him.

“I know what I did was terrible but you need to understand-” His grip on my wrist became tighter as I winced from the strength. 

“I understand that you’re a pig, a man whore.” I spat, my blood pumping, it felt like fire was flowing through my veins. “Now let go!” I snapped, trying to push him away.

“Okay, I deserve that but please just listen to me.” He begged, trying to get me to calm down and talk to him.

“No Dean, you’re hurting me and you cheated even if you were getting catfished you still left me.” I clenched my fist, his nails digging into my flesh.

Dean stepped closer to me, now letting go of my wrist he wrapped his arm around my waist, trying to pull me closer to him. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away and get out of his grip. “Stop fighting it, Melanie.” Dean hissed, “Dance with me, you’ll soon realize how much you’ve missed me.” His breath smelt of heavy liquor, he’s probably been drinking all night.

“Dean, you’re drunk. Let me go!” I demanded, using all of my strength to get my drunk ex off of me.

“I think she said she’s not interested anymore, mate.” A thick voice spoke. Dean and I both looked at the stranger. I smiled weakly seeing it was the male from the bar, I was surprised he had an accent so thick.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is any of your business.” Dean snarled towards my savior. 

“Listen, pal.” The mystery man straightened his back and squared up his shoulder, obviously appearing a lot taller than Dean. “You best bet, leave her alone or else.” His accent was a bit heavier in a much more serious tone. 

Dean looked back at me, his eyes a bit darker, his face red with anger that some guy interrupted his work on winning me back. “This isn’t over.” Dean huffed, turning his heel. Dean walked past the tall hero, making sure to roughly collide his shoulder into the stranger. The stranger didn’t budge from the rude force. 

Watching Dean walk away, I looked up at the tall stranger. “Thank you.” I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

“Drunk guy trying to hit on ya?” The male from the bar teased me.

A smile tugged at my lips, I looked down and shook my head. “Try ex-boyfriend wanting to get back together.” I rubbed my achy wrists where Dean grabbed me.

“Oh that’s even worse.” We both laughed. “But, you’re welcome. If I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t have let you get away.” His eyes landed on my wrist. “Is your wrist okay?”

My cheeks became hot, biting my lip and clearing my throat a bit. “Melanie.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake. “My wrist will be alright, thank you.”

“Drew.” He introduced himself, taking my hand in his. He placed a kiss on the top of my knuckles. His hand cool to the touch making me break out in goosebumps, but I paid no mind to it. “Melaine, would you care to dance?” 

I didn’t even realize it was a slow song until he said something, people around us were up against each other, swaying to the soft beat that was pouring out from the speakers. The bathroom wasn’t my priority anymore and plus I forgot. “I- I’d love to.” I smiled up at him.

Drew stepped closer to me, grabbing my hand and placing his free hand on my waist while my hand was on his shoulder. We swayed and spun around to the beat of the song that was playing. “So what was that at the bar?” He raised his eyebrow out of curiosity. 

A blush appeared on my cheeks. “I guess I was just feeling loose, I was a bit upset that my friend ditched me but I don’t really know. That was the alcohol talking, I’m sorry.”  

Drew let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t worry about it, I thought it was cute.”

Looking up at the Scottish man I thought about Peyton’s comment about finding a new man and settling down with, Drew could possibly be the man I was looking for. “You remind me of someone I lost a long time ago.” I watched his eyes trace my appearance. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you lose a sister?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. It felt as if it was only him and I in the room. 

“My wife actually.” He frowned. “She was stabbed.” His hazel eyes traced over my face.

“I’m so sorry.” I looked up at him, his eyes becoming a bit glossy. 

“Don’t worry about it, it happened years ago.” He swallowed, pulling me closer to his toned body and twirled us around, passing other couples. 

“You’re a really great dancer.” I decided to change the subject so he wouldn’t be sad anymore.

“Years of practice.” He flashed a smile. Gasping I swore I saw his top two canine teeth sharper than before. 

“Your- Your teeth.” I blurted out, blinking. My heart hammered in my chest, I knew I wasn’t that drunk to be seeing things. 

Drew swallowed thickly, his body stiffer than before. “My teeth, what about them?” He laughed, my eyes darted back to his sharp pointers and they were back to normal. His eyes roamed my neck, licking his lips to see my vein throbbing in my neck. “Scared I’m going to bite, Melanie?” He chuckled, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on my neck. 

“N- No.” I choked out, it must have been the alcohol I consumed earlier, making me see things. My eyes flutter shut as I tilted my head to the side, allowing him to nuzzle into my neck.

“Good girl.” He growled, his fangs growing, grazing against my skin. My eyes widened, I quickly placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, seeing his long canines attract back to their normal size.

“What- What the hell are you?” I quickly took a step back, nearly stepping into the couple dancing by us.

“Melanie, wait. Please let me explain.” He begged, reaching out for me.

“Don’t touch me, you monster.” I hissed, taking another step away. Drew frowned at that word. Everyone around us stopped dancing, staring in our direction.

Turning on the balls of my feet I quickly started to walk towards the exit, pushing past people the best I could. Stopping in my tracks to see Drew right next to the exit door, grabbing me and holding me tight.

“Get off! Let me go!” I cried out, about to scream but he covered my mouth with his hand and pulled me into the nearest closet. It seemed like nobody noticed as everyone went on with the dance.

“Would you listen to me!” He snapped, his eyes darker than usual. “I’m not a monster, well, in other people’s eyes I am but I swear I’m not.” 

“Then what are you?” Silents broke out in the small room filled with extra items that they might need and cleaning supplies. “What are you-”

“A vampire, okay?” Drew finally spoke.

“A vampire?” I reassured. 

“Yes, a vampire.” He confirmed, letting go of me. 

“Like… Can’t go out in the sun, garlic kills you and wooden stakes-” I stopped talking. “Your wife?” I frowned. 

“Well, the whole garlic thing is a myth but wooden stakes, yes. That’s what killed my wife.” His hazel eyes now staring at the floor. 

“What are you doing here then?” Fixing my mask upon my face as it was slightly slipping.

“Honestly, trying to find a date.” He confessed, his fingers now fiddling with each other as if he was now shy or at least not comfortable about confronting why he was here tonight. “A buddy of mine told me to get out there again.” He scoffed. “And then I saw you at the bar.” He looked up at me, his eyes not as dark anymore, pushing a strand of my hair out of my eyes. He smiled softly. “You were so beautiful sitting there.” He breathed out, stepping closer.

“What’s going on with your fangs?” I asked, arching my eyebrow.

He sighed. “I can hear your heart pounding. It was pounding so fast when you were arguing with your ex I thought it was going to explode.” He chuckled. “I can smell your blood pumping in your veins, too.” Drew swallowed thickly, looking away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t talk about this.”

“If it makes you feel any better my friend dragged me here to look for someone too. Maybe… It’s meant to be?” My eyes looked over at him, hoping he felt the same.

He scoffed at my words, which made me feel so little all of a sudden. “You want to be with a vampire?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, offended that he didn’t like the idea I suggested.

“You really want to just sleep all day, only go out on dates during nights and never have garlic on pizza?” He teased the myth of what people think vampires were al about.

“I already sleep all day, I work nights and I’m allergic to garlic.” I scrunched up my nose remembering the time I was rushed to the hospital after eating a food with garlic cooked inside.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Drew asked, his face becoming softer yet confusion still written on it. “You do realize I feed on blood, right?” 

“So you kill people? That’s hot.” I wiggled my eyebrows of course in a teasing manner.

He blushed, scratching the back of his head. “Well, not really. Animal blood.” 

“That’s what I thought.” I giggled, patting his scruffy cheek. “You aren’t a big bad vampire like you say you are.” 

Drew smirked slightly, stalking towards me. “Oh honey, you don’t know what you’re in for.” Drew grabbed at my wrists and pinned them against the wall. A small whimper left my lips as my back collided with the wall, if I could truly focus I slightly heard the music playing on the other side. 

“Then why don’t you show me?” My voice slightly lower and sultry, pushing my hips up against his growing loin, a low groan escaped his lips. 

Drew growled lowly at my actions, planting his lips against mine. Clenching my fists, I tried to get out of his strong grip. Moaning against his lips, I parted my mouth slightly letting his tongue explore my mouth. “Hmm fuck, Drew.” 

“Fuck, my cock is so hard for you alrready, baby.” He groaned. Drew unbuckled his pants, pulling the black leather from the loop holes he wrapped the leather strap around my wrists. “You’re going to behave for me, aren’t you?” He tightened the belt around my hands. Drew ripped his white shirt open, tossing it somewhere in the small room.

“Yes.” I panted, licking my lips. Drew pushed his black slacks down his muscular legs along with his tight boxers. His cock sprung up, hitting his toned lower stomach. Drew picked me up with ease, my back still pinned against the wall. He pulled my dress upwards. Wrapping my legs around his waist I felt his bare cock head rubbing against my clothed pussy, my panties becoming more damp from the friction.

“You ready baby?” He smirked, peppering kisses all over my neck.

“Yes.” I spoke breathlessly. Drew reached in between us, pushing my panties to the side while guiding his cock against my entrance and slowly pushed the tip of his cock in between my folds. “H- Holy fuck.” I squealed, his length stretched me out in the process. My hands gripping onto his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight.” Drew grunted, kissing my jaw line, trying to get me to relax against him. “Are you alright?” His words were in a low murmur.

“Please, just fuck me.” I begged, arching my back off of the wall, trying to push myself against his toned body and pushing my hips against him to get his cock further.

A sly smirk appeared on Drew’s lips as he shoved the rest of his cock into my pussy with one swift thrust. A scream escaped my throat as he started to thrust into me at a fast pace. Drew dug his nails into my waist as he slammed his cock faster into me. Loud thumps echoed throughout the small room as my hips hit up against the wall. 

“Oh my god, Drew.” I moaned out, my welldone hair for the evening now becoming a mess and out of place.

“Fuck, Melanie.” A low moan came out of Drew’s mouth, looking at my facial expression. His jaw dropped slightly, gritting his teeth. “You want to be mine?” He grunted, skin slapping against skin rang through my ears with each pumping thrust.

“Yes!” I blurted out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head before fluttering shut.

“Say it.” Drew’s voice became more gravellier, it wasn’t until this moment I realized he had a Scottish accent. 

“I want to be yours!” I screamed, trying to break free from the restraints around my wrist. “Please, Drew, I want to be yours!” 

Drew leaned forward, his teeth grazing against my neck, his teeth sinking into my flesh. A cry left from my throat as he marked me. “I’m going to come!” I warned him, my walls fluttered tightly around his cock. 

“Come on my cock baby, let me feel your juices.” Drew slammed his cock harder into my pussy, rubbing against my g-spot. 

“Gah! Fuck!” My body shook and stomach tightened as I reached my climax, gushing on Drew’s cock. Drew panted heavily, shooting his come inside my creamy pussy. 

“Oh fuck, Melanie.” Drew slowly pulled out, his cock covered in the clear coating. “Fuck.” He chuckled at how much of a mess we made. 

“Sorry, it’s uh, it’s been awhile.” I smiled weakly. “Uh, did you bite me?” I swallowed. Drew helped take the belt off around my wrists.

“Yeah, but I didn’t change you.” He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re ready for that.” He started to get dressed, tucking his white button up shirt into his black pants. Drew picked up my phone, unlocking it and typed away. Handing me back my device he smirked. “Text me some time, yeah?” 

With that Drew walked out of the small sex smelled closet we fucked in. My heart was pounding, fixing my hair and my mask I put my shoes back on and wobbled out of the closet, leaning against the closed door I looked down the hallway, trying to find Drew. 

If he fucks like that, I don’t think I’ll ever leave.

Drew McIntyre's Masterlist

[dirtywresling102]

Shout Out Saturday!

1.) @wanderbreadsworld

2.) @did42069

3.) @thatemophoenixgirl

4.) @eddiems-whore

Shout out to these four awesome followers for being the biggest fans of the week! Love you all and thank you so much for the support, feedback and shares of my stories! It means so much to me and keeps me motivated to write!

[ughdoir]

꣑ৎ cm punk! teasing phil leads to some well deserved punishment.

contains black female reader, bimbo reader! quick whip, lowercase intended, insertion, dirty talk, piercings, degradation, filth, cum shot, cum eating, rough, orgasm denial, spitting, choking, spanking, slapping,minors don’t interact

bimbo reader! who stumbles into the house wedges clicking against the marble floor with a grin. eagerly calling for your boyfriend as you sit the assorted shopping bags down.

“phil!” you whined again smiling as the tattooed man stands before you. a white towel snug around his waist , hair dripping from the shower with a curious gleam in his eyes.

“look what I got.” you’re flipping up your denim skirt a glimpse of metal catches his attention. a surface piercing just above your clit. while your pretty tongue adorns a similar ring. phil believes he’s going crazy.

bimbo reader! whose face is buried between sanrio plushies. phil’s tattooed hands decorated in rings on either side of your round ass spanking harshly.

“stupid little whore letting some guy pierce you.” he rips your blue lace panties stuffing them in your mouth as his tip rubs against your creamy folds.

“who knows what you did for those piercings probably fucked him.” phil spits slamming his entire length inside of you. you know bad girls don’t get time to adjust.

you’re milking him ,thick thighs and ass slamming on his dick. the drool from your mouth staining the couch and ruining your panties still between your teeth.

he’s pulling at your extensions, strawberry lip gloss faded as he kisses you deeply shedding the panties from your mouth. a harsh bite to your bottom lip making you wince.

“you’re making me crazy women.” he grabs your neck arching your back further as you clench around him. the sounds of clapping and your slippery pussy has you in a haze.

bimbo reader! whose flipped around phil’s hands grasping at your love handles to bounce you on his dick.

“if you knew any better you wouldn’t dare cum.”

“I’m sorry.” you whimper words babbling but it’s no use. only increasing the rate you bounce your ass on his cock, the motion similar to water enticing him.

“shut the fuck up.” he’s stern fingers wrapping around to flick at your piercing. the cold metal and soreness jolting your senses. “you’re lucky I don’t rip it out.” your juices are coating his balls both thighs sticky in arousal as he ridicules you. dirty little girl.

you’re greedy. several approaching orgasms washed away as you try your best to be obedient. phil chuckling as he pulls both of your sensitive nipples twisting them wickedly. your pain being his enjoyment.

“unfair.” you whine out earning a slap to your cheek the tears brimming your hazel eyes. “what’s unfair is you being a stupid slut.” he’s pulling your head back again spitting in your mouth to which you swallow.

bimbo reader! whose on her knees mouth agape and tongue poked out eager for phil’s cum. “gonna coat that tongue ring.” he’s biting his lip staring down at your pretty face.

plump lips, ass propped up, and loose curls framing your brown skin sends him over the edge. he groans the profanities spilling as he strokes one last time lazily cumming in your mouth.

droplets of semen covering your ring while most splashes your cheek and eyebrows swallowing in earnest. he pulls you to your feet face covered in cum while he tugs at your swollen clit.

“now let this be a lesson the next time you fuck with me.”

[withinthebrain]

Under the Oak

Camping part 1:

You haven't forgotten I'm here, I know. Perhaps you even know exactly where I am. It has only been a short time since we parked the truck under the oak tree and set up camp by the shoreline. Yet, as I watch you from my hammock, I have to wonder if you think you are being inconspicuous.

You crouch down cautiously, balancing your weight on your haunches and leaning your bare back against the driver’s door. His eyes gleam as he walks toward you, his hands full of kindling collected from the tree line. You glance back over your shoulder toward camp, and again I wonder if you think I am out of sight, out of earshot. While I cannot quite make out if you are speaking, based on your body language, I don't need to hear your words.

He stops an awkward distance from you, and the squint of his eyes asks a million questions, all of which are answered when you roll forward onto your knees, slightly closing the gap between you and him. He too cocks his head, looking over the truck. Is he looking for me? The thought crosses my mind to return to my book, to mind my own business, but I don't.

Like a wrestler, you reach for his knees, his pile of twigs and brush covering you in a layer of confetti. He circles you, putting the truck to his back, and I chuckle to myself because I know you both think you still look as athletic as you did in high school running down the football field. I can practically hear your dad bod muscles screaming against this sudden burst of athleticism.

Again, I don’t need to hear you speak. Since you don’t turn to face him, your body language puts the ball in his court, begging the unspoken question. He pauses, not to look around this time; his eyes are glued to your back, your boxers riding up two inches above your athletic shorts.

His lips move as he steps closer, his hand brushing bits of leaves off your shoulders. You stand, wiping the dirt from your shorts, and turn to face him, spinning with such precision that the two of you end up toe-to-toe. A touch of surprise flashes across your faces when the distance between you is reduced to zero. His hand, which had brushed your shoulders free of leaves, now clings awkwardly to your waist.

Suddenly, you return to your typical antics. Looping your leg around his, you both tumble to the ground. Enjoying the view, I imagine you as Simba and Nala, so I narrate it in my head. “Pinned ya,” you sass. When he tries to roll you, you hold him down and pronounce, “Pinned ya again.” I laugh at my own narration and contemplate reading my book, but then his shirt flies over his head, and there’s no way I’m taking my eyes off the show now that both of you are half-naked.

You both lie in the grass looking up at the sky, the sun setting leaving a pink glow across the horizon. Your chests heave, and I can tell you are laughing. You sit up collecting the twigs that are scattered about, but he is not taking the loss. He pushes you backward into the grass, holding you down under his weight. This time, you don't seem to fight him. Instead, you grab him and pull him closer.

And this time, I wish I could hear you. I strain to hear as your lips move, but instead, I see the smirk grow on his face. After a few seconds, he pulls his eyes from yours and stands, pulling you up with him. I watch as you both gather the sticks and round the truck toward camp.

I wait until the smell of smoke drifts through the air to wander toward the fire. “Finally decided to join us?” you tease, looking up with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"I got caught up in a good story," I chide, reaching for a marshmallow.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[hungharrington]

ok this is filth adjacent but would u ever write a lil blurb or fic about Steve with a gf whose super insecure about her stretch marks and body? And May be she doesn't want to disappoint Steve bc his exes seem prettier

would i ever! i love these type of requests i love ppl getting a little bit of respite and comfort through fic esp in smut! i hope this makes u feel even a little bit hotter babe <3 1.6k, afab!reader, and just filth adjacent sry! MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve's mouth is on your neck, his tongue hot where it teases against your skin, and his hands are searching your body with a lustful fervor.

Your head tips back. It's so easy to let him in, let him slide his body closer to yours, to get more of whatever he's giving. The hot press of his mouth on your neck feels damn good enough to make your blood sing—and heat travel between your thighs, wetness beginning to pool.

You want to rub your thighs together, if only for a little relief. Steve's toned thigh between them prevents it. You scrunch his polo between your hands instead, trying to wrestle the courage to slip your hands beneath it.

You're lying back on his bed, propped up lightly by the pile of pillows the two of you had stacked when the evening had begun. The television at the end of the bed runs a film idly in the background, completely unnoticed by this point.

"How we doin'?" Steve's voice rumbles out, barely parting his lips from your skin before he's swooping back in to nip at it again. The bastard.

Your hands flex again, finally mustering the nerve to dive beneath the fabric of his shirt. Steve's warm. You feel the muscles of his tummy shudder as you skim your fingers across it, a pleasurable shiver running down your spine at the trail of hair you can feel leading into his pants. Steve's breath hitches, close to your ear.

He nudges your jaw with his nose lovingly, planting another row of sloppy, wet kisses down the expanse of your neck.

"Hmm," He hums, questioningly. "Still doing good?"

You realise you hadn't exactly answered him and something glows in your chest at his insistent checks. Extremely reluctantly, you manage to drag your hands away from his torso, shifting them up to subtly nudge his face out the curve of your neck.

Steve's eyes dart up to your face as he pulls himself back, his expression turning dopey the moment your hands cup his jaw. His cheeks are flushed ruby and his hair has been mussed in all his steamy motions. He looks fucking delicious.

You kiss him — surging up to connect your mouths, warmth exploding in your chest and trickling down, down when Steve responds with a revere hunger. His plush lips scrape against yours filthily, his tongue always so perfectly teasing. You're gasping for air when you pull away.

"So good," You say breathily, finally answering the question.

Steve takes a moment longer to register what you've said—but that dopey look crosses his face the moment he does.

He plants his hands on the bed and shifts his weight back, sitting back on his heels. His thigh is still situated right between yours and you have to shove down the lustful urge to grind against it, lazy pleasure still pooling low in your gut. Though you're pretty sure Steve wouldn't oppose the idea.

Chest heaving lightly, you watch as Steve reaches for the edges of his polo and tugs upwards. It comes off in one smooth motion and you're rewarded with a fine sight. You're pretty sure your mouth actually waters in response. Tan chest, scattered moles, the smattering of hair. Oh god, you want to lick him.

Something in your face must give away your train of thought because Steve laughs. He leans back down, one hand moving to your waist, and nuzzles his nose against yours. He steals a kiss from your lips.

"See somethin' you like?" He says, the smirk evident in his tone. You feel like you might vibrate out of your skin.

"Shut up," You aim for fiesty and fall far, far short. You sound on the verge of a whine when you say, "You know I do."

Steve grins wider. His hand on your waist tucks under your shirt seamlessly, his thumb drawing maddening circles into the skin. Your breath catches, even as your arousal hikes.

"What about you?" He whispers the question between his kisses as he mouths along your jaw again, finding that same damn spot on your neck again. It'll be violet coloured by the morning. "Do I get to see something I'll like?"

He's asking permission. It takes a long moment to realise that—too distracted between the touch of his fingertips skating across your skin and the addicting feel of his lips against your pulse.

You nod without thinking.

Steve pulls your shirt up no more than a few inches before your brain catches back up. Your hand moves abruptly, grabbing his hand and yanking it and your shirt back down in a split second.

Steve's halting in an instant, pulling back from working lovebites on your neck to see what he's done wrong. There's a string of spit connecting his lips to your neck.

Steve frowns in concern, shifting his hand up wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, as he makes an effort to put a little distance between you.

"You okay?" He asks. You're still holding his wrist, which is still holding the edge of your shirt. "What happened?"

Your mouth opens uselessly and closes. You know precisely why you had stopped him and now you're facing up with the fact you have to tell him, lest Steve believe you're actually having second thoughts over being with him.

It's just... you've probably spent far too many hours in the mirror. You've seen it from every angle. Seen it in every lighting. You can't quite ever seem to make your body look good.

You don't look like any of the girls Steve's been with in the past.

Comparison is killer, you're aware of this, but infuriatingly you just can't seem to stop. You think of what Steve will see the moment he gets your shirt off, what he'll realise, and your hand tightens around his wrist subconsciously. Your throat tightens up too.

Steve's face melts into a softer expression, eyes big. "Hey, hey, it's totally fine if you said one thing and- and you realise that you didn't mean it, it's okay."

Words continue to evade you and humiliatingly, it feels more likely that tears will escape you before any explanation will. He's being so nice.

"But..." Steve continues, his tone wary as if aware he's treading on uneven ground. "You seemed like you were into it. Like, comfortable, I mean. Then it was like a flip switched and you froze."

"I-" You finally find your voice. You clear your throat as you try to find the right words, breaking Steve's intense gaze to study the ceiling.

This is worse. This has got to be worse that just Steve taking your shirt off and being disappointed because— because you're goddamn building up to it. Your eyes screw shut and you decide it's better to rip the band-aid off.

"I'm just," You can't quite keep the quiver out of your voice. "I'm not like- like girls you've dated before."

Steve makes a noise of confusion and it's enough to force your eyes open. You glance down, taking in Steve's adorably furrowed brow.

"Okay...?" He says, clearly still a bit confused.

"I mean, Steve," You say, voice a little steadier. Your hand around his wrist finally remembers to relax.

You release the hold on him and tuck your hand under your shirt discretely, covering the skin of your stomach you know is warped with stretch marks. "I don't look like the girls you've dated before. My- my body is different."

The wrinkle between Steve's brow shifts, moving from confused to something a little harsher.

"So?"

You blink. Of all the possibilities that you had run, not one of them had ended with Steve saying that.

"So?" You echo meekly. "So... so you might be like, I don't know, disappointed or think—mfh"

The words get smushed beneath Steve's fervent kiss, stealing one kiss off your lips and all your words with it. You blink up at him again, all your endless arguments of why Steve would be so disappointed suddenly silenced.

Steve grins, evidently pleased with his reaction.

Tentatively, moving slowly so you could intervene if you wished, he drags his hand along the sheets and onto your hip again. This time, however, he pushes the fabric of your shirt up and doesn't pause til it's bunched up, most of your torso on show.

Your nerves gather, gnawing at the edges of your chest. You can't bring yourself to move the hand that's trying to hide part of you, even if a dozen other stretch marks are visible now.

Then Steve leans down and he kisses your skin, right in the middle of your tummy.

"I think," He says, lips dragging across your skin and setting it aflame. He's looking up at your through his lashes, your gazes locked, his eyes dark. Another kiss, this time longer, with just a flash of tongue. "You're hot shit."

Instinct makes you want to scoff. But Steve says it so seriously that you almost believe him off the bat. Believe that he believes that.

He lowers himself onto his elbows, letting both of his large hands settle onto your waist, fingers pressing into the skin lightly. You shiver at the feeling and start to consider the possibility that he actually does think that.

"And I will gladly," He punctuates the word with another kiss, this one evolving into a soft, sensual lick up towards your breasts which peak lustfully in response. Your breath hitches. "Spend all the time needed if you need some convincing of that."

His hands move, sliding down til he's gently knocking yours aside, big warms hands spread across your hips. His thumbs are moving, drawing soft motions down, you realise, towards your waistband. Your pulse jumps between your legs, the heat in your body uncaring about the brief interruption.

Steve kisses your tummy again, further down this time. You acutely realise you've got Steve Harrington between your thighs, looking up at you with darkened eyes and promising filthy things with his fingers. Or mouth. Both if you're lucky.

"So," Steve murmurs, voice raspy and low. His thumbs slip beneath your waistband, just an inch. "You gonna let me convince you?"

You're feeling pretty damn lucky.

[lokis-coconut28]

Sports Bra (Y/N x Loki)

A/N: This is my first time posting a fic and getting used to writing on tumblr - please be gentle with me! Lots of ideas and things to come hopefully. If anybody can help me with dividers and such, please approach!

A/N: I am reposting this here, on a primary blog so I can access and follow you all! Thank you so much for the love on my secondary account on this story.

This has been living in my phone notes for a long time. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Slight voyeurism, Smut, 18+ only, Smut lol

Summary: Training with Loki in a sports bra gets spicy. WC 1.6K

Your hair curled around your face in sweaty whisped tendrils as you wrestled Loki on the mat. Training days were grueling and your body had alerted you to that as you were starting to get fatigued. Your body ached, especially your thighs. 

Loki pinned you to the floor once again and a cheeky smile spread across his face. 

“You are powerful, darling. But not strong enough to beat a god.” He snarled playfully. 

You huffed, breasts heaving up and down with your deep breaths. You bent forward, stretching your hamstring in preparation to attempt, yet again, to take your teammate down. 

You leaned into your frontal stretch, touching your toes with your eyes closed. Loki half-scolded himself for stealing a glance down your sports bra.

Though he would never admit it, since you joined the team he had had more than one fantasy about that body of yours. You curved in all of the right places. Forbidden thoughts raced through his mind more often than not after training with you. Loki would conjure images in his mind after conditioning with you. What it would be like to be intimate together. If the showers were empty, it wasn't uncommon to be found pleasuring himself to the rendering of you in his psyche.

It wasn’t all physical, though. Your quick wit made him genuinely smile. He admired your intelligence and influence being a new Avenger. You had such a beautiful soul. And for the most part, he trusted you. Not once were you judgmental of his past and you were instant to embrace him. You would jest, but did not joke at his expense like the other Avengers would. You were valuable to him. More than a Midgardian sparring partner, to be sure. He could never confess this attraction, fearing to lose his friendship with the closest person to him.

You did one more long stretch beyond your feet, hands splayed on the ground, breasts pushing outward. Loki noticed the periphery of one of your nipples dipping out from the top of the of your bra, almost to the center of it, forming a rose colored peak. 

Seeing such a private part of you caught him off guard. He blushed fiercely and pretended to stretch his arms in front of himself as he briefly looked away.

You softly moaned as you arched you spine into a neutral position and hoisted your bra back up, your breasts jiggling as you secured them in place. 

You peered up at Loki through spent eyes. “Ready?”

Loki was still enchanted having seen a small glimpse of you. He felt guilty for gazing upon you without your knowledge. “Y/N, wait-" he started just as you sprinted full force at him. You knocked him down in his moment of unsteadiness. The pair of you fell back onto the mat in a tackle. You straddled Loki's hips and pinned them to the ground as your forearm held his sternum tight to the floor. You exhaled in relief, finally defeating him in your playful competition, soft eyes - and supple cleavage - mere inches from his face.

Loki gasped hard, admittedly unprepared for the harsh blow to the ground. He gaped at you, restraining him with might between your sore thighs, sweat beading around your collar bones. His eyes flickered to your bosom towering over him, watching your erratic breath from physical exertion. He felt a tightness in his stomach and began to panic as he felt his cock twitch. He hoped you didn’t feel it. 

You did. 

It throbbed again, and you looked at Loki wide-eyed in disbelief. The God of Mischief, your best friend and colleague, pinned beneath you, growing hard. 

Aware of your gaze he scoffed in embarrassment and crimson crept up his cheeks. You fell on your back as he rolled you to the side, off of him. 

Putting his hands on his head, elbows on his knees, he gently spoke. “Y/N… I…” He was at a loss for words. Abashed tears welled in his eyes. “What you felt… it’s just…” he took a moment to compose himself.  “When you bent over, I saw, well, more than you had intended for me to see… I’m so sorry Y/N…” he whispered at the end. His lashes flickered downward, looking anywhere but at you. 

Your heart fluttered at his admission. Withdrawing his hands from his face, you could see his genuine worriment. Biting your lip, you turned his cheek, forcing eye contact. Taking a deep breath, you spoke just as honest and vulnerable as he had been.

“Loki… it’s okay… I would let you see all of me if you wanted to…” 

His mouth parted slightly in anticipation of your next words. Lust filled the air dense as fog. 

You grabbed his hand and gently guided it to your chest. 

“May I?” You lulled, handling his flesh with care.

He nodded, pupils dilating. 

You softly placed Loki’s hand on your breast. You observed as his eyes devoured you. You held a grip on his knuckles, urging him to take over. 

He lifted his other hand, following your lead, and started to caress your mammae, cupping them, and swiftly massaging them in circles, palming your mounds.

You tilted your head back and moaned. It felt glorious. You always did have an attraction toward Loki, but this, having him touch you with the look of adoration in his eyes, was stirring something more inside of you. You looked down at Loki’s obvious arousal. His eyes lingering on your chest - which had been pulling his orbs like a magnet this evening. 

You had an idea. 

“Loki… fuck my tits…” you cautiously offered to him. The situation seemed so taboo, but you wanted this, wanted him, and seeing his eyes glued to you gave you the confidence to propose this in the heat of the moment. 

“What?” His eyes snapped to yours, locking concentratedly.

“Fuck my tits Loki… I want you…please…” you continued. You were nervous now, unable to read his expression.

His brows furrowed. “My darling… I’ve, I have never done that… I..” he trailed off. 

“I will help you, Loki. If you want this?”

He nodded. “I want this. I want you more than anything in the realms”.

You laid back on the mat and instructed Loki to put his legs on both sides of you. You carefully pulled down his sweats to release his cock, already glistening at the tip. 

You wrapped your hand around his heated shaft and lifted the underside of your brassiere. You slid his head in and aligned him perfectly center between your mounds. You grabbed his ass and nudged him to move. 

Loki let out a stifled moan as his dick glided between your supple breasts. He rhythmically started driving into the crevice, watching his prick come out of the apex of your bra, bouncing your bountiful cleavage. 

He started thrusting faster now, hesitantly eyeing the training observation window. You took note and reassured him.

“Nobody will see, Lokes. I wouldn’t care even if they did. Keep going, Prince.” You sung gently to him.

He hissed and spasmed from his core at your words. Prince. Your soft skin enveloped his manhood so well.

You flipped your bra up on to your collarbones, exposing your entire chest. You pushed your boobs together as tight as you could, nipples hardening as you felt Loki’s shaft pulsate. His eyes darkened, eagerly taking in this new scene. 

“Let me taste you Loki…” The words rolled off of your lips.

You opened your mouth offering an “o” shape for his tip to enter. He slid between your tits, gliding his end into your mouth. 

“Ah Norns, Y/N…” Loki growled in a low timbre.

He rubbed against you quicker now, a fury inside of his veins and heart, quickening his oncoming orgasm. 

His eyes met yours as his knob slid in once again. This was more than just lust, he acknowledged in his mind. He loved you. He was madly in love with you, his best friend. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m close… Where.. where can I release…” he panted as he gyrated into your breasts. Your tongue flicked the tip of his penis as to offer a place for him to cum. 

“Y/N…” he hissed multiple times in silence before letting out an involuntary mewl, orgasm washing over him. He came in your mouth, bucking and convulsing. Loki pulled out with one more spurt shooting across the nipple he had stolen a glance at earlier. He watched as you swallowed with glee in your eyes.

“How was that?” You questioned from underneath him. 

He tenderly handled you, supporting your neck as you arose and settled next to him in a seated position on the mat.

“If that’s how good your breasts feel I can’t imagine how divine the rest of you feels, my darling.” 

Your hand touched his softly, rubbing a circle on his knuckle. 

“Why don’t you find out?” You purred into his ear.

Loki pulled you on to his lap, searching your eyes for deception. He saw many things in your eyes, but deception was not present.

Gracefully, he laid a most loving kiss on your lips. Securing your legs around his hips, he stood and maneuvered your back to rest against the glass. Pinning your hands above your head with one hand, he used the other to strip away both of your remaining clothing with a flash of emerald. Your ass pressed against the training window as Loki prepared to enter you. You clutched the nape of his neck, raven curls slick with sweat, holding him with an unspoken devotion. This was your favorite day of training.

****************************************************************

A/N: Thank you for going on that journey with me. Writing is hard! Please forgive any errors!

Special thank you to @mochie85 for encouraging me to write and publish. (On my @Kitrgator blog, I promised I would tag you if I ever did post!)

[yuff7e]

hi hello! I'm new to your blog but I already really like your fics :)

I've been having this thought lately about how Bakugo would react to his partner being lazy and just lying on the floor randomly and laying down on stairs or sitting in the weirdest position known to man. so could you do that sort of idea with a fem!reader? (because the personality is heavily based on me) also I don't really care what you do with it as long as its not sad. it can have smut in it, it can be silly, Bakugo can get mad abt it I just don't want it to be sad

thank you and have an awesome day <3

⁺˚⋆｡° bakugo with a lazy gf !! ✩₊ short headcanons / fluff / light nsfw

female reader

hi anon !! this was really cute !! let’s write it !! and thank you for the compliment !! you’re so sweet ^_^ enjoy <3

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

- mans is so tired of you

- “will you fuckin’ get up?”

- “nah”

- he loves you dearly, really he does … but you lazing around all the time gets on his nerves

- he respects hardworking people, and seeing how lazy you can be sometimes is so irritating !!!

- but, not always…

- sometimes he might take advantage of it, especially if you’re laying in a … suggestive position

- laying on your tummy, your legs dangling off the bed …

- he’ll probably give your butt a small slap but after seeing the jiggle he wouldn’t be able to resist

- and sometimes he appreciates your lazy nature, his childhood home has always been so .. chaotic

- he’s a chaotic guy, stressed, loud, you name it.

- so once your gentle, quiet, stress-free personality swooped him off his feet he couldn’t be happier

- he’s told you you’re the best person he’s ever taken a nap with (he’s never taken a nap with anyone else, he doesn’t trust sleeping around people lol)

- some days he’ll come back to his dorm to you laying upside down hanging off his bed and he just stares at you

- “what the hell are you doin’?”

- watches you slowly slide off the bed and hit the floor

- “dumbass”

- since you have such lazy nature, you might lay around someone else’s place too - especially if you’re also friends with them

- like, if you’re apart of his gang (kirishima, denki, sero) and you guys head to one of their dorms and you’re over here laying in a position that he thinks isn’t acceptable he’ll flip you over or cover you up with his jacket

- like if you’re laying on your tummy on denkis couch, 90% of the time cover you up

- he knows how denki acts sometimes, but if you were like that at kirishimas he probably wouldn’t care that much

- katsuki is protective, you’re his

- no matter if that’s in your nature, he won’t be afraid to tell you if he doesn’t like the way you act sometimes

- but it’s not his fault you’re so damn cute !!

- he can be pretty possessive to an unhealthy amount sometimes and you have to remind him to chill tf out

- he does, trust (after 20 failed attempts)

- anywho, he’s really the best but he can be a little butthole sometimes

- assuming you aren’t a morning person since you’re so lazy, he’ll be wrestling you in the morning just to get out of bed

- “hurry up! we’re gonna be late for class!”

- *he pulls all the blankets off and you’re just like gumball in that one scene with all your limbs tangled together*

- “5 more minutes…”

- you’re the cutest

cutie patooties ;3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[riptides-n-roses]

Hiii! First I want to say I love your posts and one of the best! Second I Would like to request a Roman X Reader when he lost at WrestleMania 40 and how he would be like with reader backstage? If not it is fine!

GGRRAAAHHH! OFC OFC! I CRIED SO HARD THAT NIGHT OMFG! THIS ONE SHALL BE FLUFF FOR ONCE! ♡

changes - roman reigns

⛧ pair: roman reigns x reader

⛧ tags: @88changemymind @cyberdejos2 @reigns-prophecy [huge thank you to anon]

⛧ no warnings/smut this time. Just an emotional roman after an incredible match and reign.

⛧ writers block is the absolute worst omg. I'll go ahead and be honest, sometimes smut gets a little too hard to write and I don't really want this blog to just be smut. This will be my first fluff since most of my drafts are smut related. Also again this one is short but I hope it's a fun little read.

⛧ after an incredible title reign, things will be different but right now all roman can ever need right now is you.

⛧ word count: 588

Wrestlemania.

The biggest night in WWE. All superstars have an amazing opportunity to make a change or write history for the books.

This was also a night for some big title cards. One of which was your partner, Roman Reigns. He is the Trible Chief, The Head of The Table. The main event was when he takes on Cody Rhodes, for the Undisputed WWE Universal Championship.

It was a match everyone was talking about that sparked a lot of debate on TV and social media. Tonight's main event was going to be talked about all year regardless of the outcome.

You held Roman tight in your arms, giving him a big hug before his match.

"You're going to do great out there" you started, "it'll be a night to remember."

"I know it will." Roman replied, gently stroking your hair. "I made a lot of history with this title"

After a warm embrace for what seemed like forever, you let him go, giving him a kiss on the cheek as a signal for good luck.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

1...

2...

3...

Cody had finished the story. The new champion held the newly claimed title high as the audience roared.

"Here is your winner...and the NEW Undisputed WWE Universal Champion...The American Nightmare: Cody Rhodes!"

You watched the screen in the guerilla with tears in your eyes. This was one of the most beautiful moments in WWE storytelling. A lot of stories have been written and not just for Cody but for everyone involved.

You couldn't imagine how Roman feels in this moment. He's successfully held the title for an incredible reign of 1,316 days. 3 years. That was already impressive on its own status.

After the pay per view went off air, Roman was desperately looking for you.

"Y/N!" You heard him call out for you. You immediately went to go look for him, needing to give him the most well deserved love he needed.

When Roman saw you, he immediately rushed into your arms, holding you tight.

"Hey baby...I saw" you started, "Are you okay?"

It took Roman a bit to respond, knowing the entire match was a lot to take in.

"Tonight was a moment..." His tone was soft "I've made a name for myself, including my in ring career..."

You listened to him, allowing him to state how he felt in this moment.

"What I'm trying to say is...I'm happy. Not because of my reign but because of what it meant for wrestling. For this company..."

You felt him shiver, you think he was caught up in his feelings.

"I love you so much, y/n... you truly have helped me with everything for the 3 years I've held that championship."

Roman looked into your eyes, small tears forming in his eyes. You smiled and gave him a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you too, Roman. I'm happy I can be there for you..."

He smiled when he heard how you loved him.

"I know everything will change now...but you're still you, Roman. You've made an impact for WWE. You should be proud of yourself."

"Don't worry I am" He laughed, "Would you...like to get something to eat before we make it to our hotel room?"

You smiled, giving him another kiss "Sure. I think that'll make you feel better. We can get food and laugh about good times."

"Sounds like a plan"

The two of you kissed one more time before going to your dressing room, holding hands on the way there.

"I love you, y/n."

[dirtywrestling]

No Strings Attached - Randy Orton (18+)

Commission: @thesimonkshow

Pairing: Randy Orton x Simon

Summary: Things get a little heated between Simon and Randy after the little visit from Rachel, Randy’s wife.

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Cursing, Smut, Cheating/Affairs, Minors DNI

Word Count: 4,765

Parts: One / Two

Follow My Backup Blog!: @dirtywresling102

Nothing was more awkward than laying wide awake that night on the couch staring at the ceiling and listening to Randy’s wife, Rachel trying to start something.

“Come on, I’m sure he’s asleep.” She whispered, more like talking softly since the room was quiet as it was.

“Rachel, no. Just go to bed.” Randy argued. I heard him rolling over as she huffed. 

“What’s going on? You use to fuck me and hard.” The tone in her voice slightly got higher, annoyingly higher.

“Shh, okay, okay, fine.” Randy snapped. I froze in my spot on the couch that was mere feet away from the bed, hearing suffling. There was no way Randy was going to fuck his wife in front of me. So I thought, it wasn’t until that first moan Rachel released that made me cringe.

That night hasn’t left my head, her cringy moans still echoed in my head as Randy pounded her into the mattress. She eventually left that morning and I did too. I haven’t spoken to Randy since that night. It crushed me, my heart ached and I didn’t know what to do. I knew eventually something was going to happen but him having sex with his wife right in front of me and an hour after having sex with me, I felt used. 

While I worked backstage and saw Randy, I’d immediately worked at a different station so I could avoid him. “Hey Simon.” Looking up in the direction my name was being called, it was Mark. “Hey man, could you restalk the buffet for the wrestlers?” 

“Isn’t that the intern’s job?” I questioned, eyebrows furrowed. I wasn’t in the mood to do something an intern was supposed to be doing.

“He called in today, it’s a quick job please before the wrestlers get hangry.” 

Huffing, I left my job position. I was working on making sure each lens for the cameras were cleaned and not cracked, so I made my way towards the table full of food. Ripping open a plastic holder full of water bottles I started to stalk the cooler with them and diet sodas along with other warm beverages that needed to be cold. “They got you on bitch boy duty, huh?” 

I groaned as I knew that voice. “Leave me alone, I’m working.” I opened up a box of sodas, shoving the warm cans into the cool ice chest. 

“Simon, please. I’ve said I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Randy exclaimed a little too loudly, making everyone look over at us. Looking back at the people who were staring I gave them a weak smile only to grab Randy by the wrist and drag him away from the catering table. 

“What Randy? What could you possibly fucking want?” I shoved him against the nearest wall a little too roughly as Randy’s back hit up against it, surprised by my actions.

“Simon, please. I didn’t mean for that night to end up like that. I didn’t even know she was coming to visit.” Randy defended himself.

“You fucked her in front of me!” I said through my gritted teeth.

“She was suspecting something, Simon.” Randy explained. “I had to, she wouldn’t stop or worse she would have found out about us.” 

“You hurt me.” I frowned, slouching my shoulders. “You hurt me Randy and you lied to her about me being a wrestler.”

“And look where you’re at, you’re working part time as a crew member and you’re training to be a wrestler!” Randy exclaimed with a proud smile.

“Because you lied! You even lied to Vince about me wanting to be a wrestler and now look where I’m at!” I extended my arms, forcing him to look at my tired eyes with dark circles under them. “I’m tired! This isn’t the life for me, Randy.” 

“Shh, shh.” Randy hushed me, looking around as workers walked back and forth like busy beez getting the show ready for tonight. “Listen, we debut tonight. I need you on  your A game, okay?” Randy cupped his large hand against my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered. “Months and months of training and soon you’ll be a full time wrestler. No more dealing with the wires or being forced to stalk the catering table. It’ll just be me and you, okay?”  His voice was softer now and that’s all I wanted to focus on, his sweet voice that was full of promises.

The pad of Randy’s thumb traced over my pouty lips. “I want you to forget backstage for now, I want you to focus on getting ready for tonight.” 

Looking away from Randy’s baby blue eyes I sighed. “Okay.” I mumbled. 

“Great.” Randy perked up, scanning the area real quick before planting a kiss on my lips. 

“I’m still mad at you.” I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, making Randy frown.

As the night went on my anxiety spiked. The closer we got to call time for our match the more my palms became sweaty. I looked at myself in the large body mirror one last time at the gorilla. Randy was in new attire, white, red and gold trunks while I was in the same color but in stretchy pants so I had more ability to move in the ring. I wasn’t built like Randy, so I couldn’t pull off the trunks but I was close.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I was about to walk away, my heart hammering in my chest as my throat was tightening up, it was getting harder to breath and it felt like I was about to puke.

Randy grabbed my bicep as I walked past him to run away. “Hey, hey, hey.” Randy gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You’re fine, you’re alright. Just breathe.” He said calmly, a little too calm. 

“How are you so calm?” I frowned, tears nearly escaping from my eyes. I didn’t want to keep this lie up anymore just to be hidden in the shadows from his wife and us in the closet. 

“I’ve been doing this for years, Simon. I still get nervous.” He grabbed my wrist, placing my hand against his bare chest. I felt his heart thumping fast just like mine was.

“You’re nervous?” I whispered, surprised. The Viper, The Legend Killer, thee Randy Orton still gets nervous?

“Of course I still get nervous..” He tossed his head back in laughter. “It’s another show in a different city.” Randy played with my fingers. “All these months you’ve been training, you’ve been growing.” Randy’s eyes wandered over me. “You look amazing by the way.” His voice was low so no one around us could hear. 

Biting my lip to hide my smile, I looked down at the ground. We even had matching colored shoes on. He wore boots where I wore more athletic running shoes. 

“Simon, Randy. You’re about to go on.” One of the producers said, clipboard in hand with a black headset over his ears. 

Thanking the producer, I exhaled a breath. “Breathe, just breathe. You’re going to do great.” Randy smiled. He let go of my hand as his music blared through the speakers, making me flinch at the loudness. “Come on, you’ll love it.”

Randy was right, I did love it. I thought being behind the camera was my place, but having the camera, lights and crowd focused on me made my anxiety disappear and adrenaline appear in my veins. My heart hammered as Xavier Woods and I were doing a spot in the ring while Randy and Kofi were throwing shots at each other on the outside of the ring, keeping each other busy.

Hitting the ropes, I bounced off and ran towards Xavier, jumping in the air slightly. I connected a cross body to him. Xavier fell with me on top of him, still having a hold of his body. I stood up, pulling him close into a German suplex but not letting him go. Arching my back and digging my toes deep into the mat I pinned him with a bridge. The ref slid next to us and slammed his hand onto the white surface of the mat three times. I was expecting Xavier to kick out and to do a comeback where it made Randy and I lose. 

Shooting up from the pin, Xavier’s tired body laid limp on the mat where I looked around in pure shock. “We won?” I asked the ref as he grabbed onto my wrist, making me stand up on my two feet and raised my hand in victory. Randy ran towards the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and rushed towards me. 

“You won! You pinned him!” Randy smiled, giving me a hug. He wrapped his sweaty large arms around my slender body. I couldn’t help but to lean into his chest, smelling his scent. “Come on, we gotta go so they can start up the next match.” Randy said, helping me out of the ring. “You know what this means right?” Randy asked as we shook and high fived fans while making our way up the ramp. 

“No, what?” I was confused as I collided with a younger fan’s hand. 

Stopping at the top of the ramp Randy looked at the large Summerslam sign that was lit up. “This means we’re the number one contenders for the tag team championships.” Randy smiled as he raised his arm up and pointed at the sign.

It was that night Randy and I really had our first fight, face to face. My mouth was stuffed full with his cock as it choked me while I sucked him off. We were finally getting back into the groove after what happened with him and his wife months ago. “Fuck, I missed your mouth on me.” Randy hummed, resting his head back on the couch as he ran his fingers through my hair. “Feel so good.” He murmured. I looked up at him the best I could while suckling him. He felt twice as thicker and tastier than the last time. 

It felt like a fever dream, I was back where I belonged. In between Randy’s legs, his throbbing cock down my throat with him telling me how much of a good boy I’ve been. My eyes snapped open as I heard his phone ringing. Randy let out an annoying sigh, picking up the newest model iPhone he had. “I have to take this.” He said after looking at the caller ID. With that he pushed me off, letting his hard cock slide out of my mouth. “Hey baby.” He answered. 

“Hey baby?” I said back in a softer tone with confusion laced in. I sat back on my knees as I watched Randy talk to the woman he’s been cheating on with a smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, you watch the match? Oh you like me in those colors?” He purred, his hand wrapping around his cock that I made hard. I furrowed my eyebrows as he blew me off to talk to her and Randy soon noticed. “Uh, listen baby. I’m in the middle of something. I’ll let you go. I love you.” He then hung up.

“I love you?” I repeated what he said. “You have never said ‘I love you’ to that woman since we’ve started this.” My blood started to boil.

“Simon, look she’s still my wife.” 

“That you cheat on.” I spat back.

“I still have to show I have feelings for her.” Randy furrowed his eyebrows. 

“I have feelings for you, Randy!” I yelled. “Me! I love you, I’m the one spending time with you, not her! I’m the one letting you fuck me whenever you need it! I don’t see her pleasing you!” Tears started to swell up in the corner of my eyes.

“You love me?” Randy arched his eyebrow. “Simon,” Randy scoffed. “I’m a married man, this was more so experimenting.” He confessed. “You really thought I had feelings for you?” He cracked a smile as I stayed silent only to follow up with a laugh. 

Standing up, I hovered over Randy as he was still seated on the sofa, cackling. Balling up my fist, I pulled it back and threw it towards him, connecting to his cheek bone. The tattooed male hissed in pain. “Ouch, Simon! What the fuck!” Randy held his cheek as it already started to swell from the harsh force.

“Fuck you, Randy!” Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. Gathering my things, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

Summerslam was finally upon us. The biggest night for the wrestling company during the summer. “Are you going to talk to me?” A male’s voice asked behind me as I wrapped tape around my wrist. 

“I have nothing to say to you.” I kept focusing on the white tape, wrapping it around and around again until there wasn’t any left on the roll. 

“Look, Simon.” Randy began but the music for us hit. 

“See you out there.” I stepped behind the curtain. As I appeared at the top of the ramp I looked over the sea of people that cheered loudly as I started to walk towards the ring. My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to steady my legs that felt like jelly. Getting inside the ring, I nodded towards the ref and made my way to our side of the corner. Hearing Randy’s theme I looked up towards the entrance. Seeing him walk out confidently taking long strides made me break out in goosebumps. Why did this man have to be so good looking? I shook my head, remembering that I was still mad at him.

The first ten minutes of the match was already feeling like Hell for me. My body ached, my head was split open to where blood was dripping down my face. Whenever we took a small break, all of us laying on the ground after a large spot, Randy would try to see if I was okay. “I’m fine!” I hissed, which made me quickly get up to start the next spot with Aj. 

As I breathed heavily, my stomach hurt with each inhale I took. Being in the middle of the ring, I crawled towards Randy who had his hand stretched out trying to tag himself in. “Come on baby, come on!” Randy chanted.

Omos quickly ran from his corner all the way towards Randy, kicking him in the face. “Randy!” I yelled as he fell from the ring side and a loud thud as he collided with the floor. 

Slowly standing up I looked over at the ref who was checking on Randy. Seeing Omos laughing at me I kicked him in between his legs, knowing he would be too big for me to go one on one with. Omos cried out in pain as he cupped himself through his pants. Hearing Aj behind me, I snapped my head in his direction and gave him an RKO. The ref looked inside the ring to see what all the commotion was and quickly left Randy to slide in as he counted. As the bell rang, I immediately rolled out of the ring, not caring about raising my hand in victory or the titles. Rushing to Randy who was still laying on the outside of the ring. 

“Randy, Randy. Are you okay?” I looked over his face to see if there was any boot print but there was nothing. 

Randy smirked looking up at my worried face. “You care about me.” He teased me. “Did you finish him with a RKO?” He laughed lightly.

Scoffing, I helped him up to his feet. “You scared me.”

“Me scare you? Look at you. Your face is covered in blood.” He frowned. 

Blinking, I brought my hand to my face, wiping away the red liquid that now coats my hand. “It appears so.”

“Come on, let’s get you backstage.” Randy held me close just in case I lost consciousness from the blood loss. “Oh wait. One more thing.” He looked back at the ring and grabbed our red and silver tag team titles. “Now we can go backstage.” As Randy helped me walk up the ramp I waved to my friends and family members that were sitting in the front row. 

“Way to go Simon!” I heard them cheer. A small smile formed on my lips with a blush of embarrassment as we kept moving. 

“Friends seem nice.” Randy pointed out.

I squinted as the trainer flashed a light in my eye. “You have a concussion.” He said as he took off his gloves. “Just make sure you don’t sleep for a few hours, get something to eat. Occupy yourself so you won’t fall asleep. Keep those stitches clean too.” He said tossing his gloves into the trash that was piled up with bloody gauzes from when they cleaned up my busted head. 

“Thanks.” I mumbled, now feeling the aftermath of the stitches. My head was starting to pound and the bright lights weren’t helping my eyes. Standing up Randy was already by my side, matter of fact he didn’t leave the room when I received my stitches. 

“I was thinking we can go out and eat to celebrate?” He suggested as we both walked out of the trainer’s room and down the hall to our locker room. 

“No.” I said, pushing past the door into our locker room, I went straight to my bag and started to unlace my boots. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Randy frowned. “Simon, come on. I said I was sorry, we’re a tag team now with the gold.” 

“I mean no, as in no.” I straightened up and furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him. “I have friends and family here supporting me tonight, I’m celebrating with them.” 

“Simon, please.” Randy’s voice sounded sincere. “That night, the way I acted towards you was uncalled for.” 

“Yeah, you think?” I huffed as I kicked off one boot and started with the other. “You hurt my feelings, Randy. I love you- I loved you.” I corrected myself. 

“And I love you!” Randy shouted, making it echo off the white locker room walls and into my ears. There was a pause, swallowing. I finally turned around, looking at him. 

“You love me?” I repeated, not too sure if I heard him correctly.

“Jesus, Simon of course I love you.” Randy said a bit softer this time. “Rachel, that woman, I don’t like who I’ve become when I’m with her.” Randy confessed. “My time with you, nearly two years of us and just us. This has been the most fun I’ve had and people like me now because you’ve made me into a better person.”

“Would explain your mood swings.” I mumbled, recalling a few times Randy had picked up his rudeness again. 

“She’s not the one I want to be with.” Randy stepped forward, grabbing my hand into his larger ones. “I want to be with you, Simon. It’s always been you.” His blue eyes were becoming red and puffy with the lack of sleep and tears now forming in his eyes. 

“You swear?” I whispered, this couldn’t be real. Was this some sort of trick?

“I swear to you. I can barely sleep when you’re not by my side.” The tip of his finger traced over my palm.

“Oh Randy.” I sighed out, throwing myself against him, I wrapped my arms around his neck where he wrapped around my waist, holding me tight. “I love you so much, Randy.” I mumbled against the crook of his neck, nuzzling deeper. 

“I love you too.” Randy sighed happily, his fingers lazily trailing along my hips. “How about we celebrate the proper way?” He purred, his fingers dipping into the hem of my pants. 

“You mean it?” My eyes shined as I looked up at him, it’s been awhile since he’s fully focused on me and only me.

“Yeah, I mean it.” He hummed, pushing my pants down. I kicked off my last boot to the side and helped him get the sticky pants off me. “Look at you, you’re already hard.” Randy chuckled as he grabbed onto my cock and gave it a squeeze. A half breath left my throat as I swallowed my moans. “Nuh- huh. I want to hear you, I crave to hear you.” Randy slowly started to stroke my cock. 

“Please, Randy faster.” I begged as I buckled my hips against his touch. 

“Such a sweet boy, always begging.” Randy applied a tighter grip as he started to pump my cock faster. As my legs wobbled, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against Randy’s shoulder. “Easy.” He laughed at how I became limp from his touch. Randy pulled his hand away from my cock making me whimper. “Shh, sit down.” Randy ordered. 

Sitting my bare ass on the cool wooden bench, Randy knelt down in front of me, eyeing my throbbing erection and heavy balls. “Randy, please.” I squirmed in my seat as I waited for him to touch me. 

“Such a needy thing.” Randy chuckled, as he grabbed my ankles and placed them over his shoulders, exposing me. “Hold on to something.” Randy planted his hands on my waist as he dipped his head in between my legs, he licked softly against my hole. A shuttering moan escaped my lips from the feeling of his wet tongue teasing me. 

“Oh, Randy.” I arched my back, pushing my waist against his face as one of his hands left my waist and spread my cheeks to get a better taste. His tongue lapped small circles around my muscle. Grabbing the back of his head, I pushed him further in between my cheeks. “Randy, please. Fuck me with your tongue.”

A low growl rumbled through Randy’s chest as he dipped the tip of his tongue inside of me, swirling it around inch by inch he forced his tongue a little further. Slurping sounds from the way Randy flicked his tongue made me even harder than before. Feeling Randy’s hot mouth pull away from me, I cursed under my breath only to suck in another, feeling the warm tip of his finger pressing against my hole. “Yes, yes please.” Pushing my hips towards Randy, I tried to get his finger inside of me and skip the teasing but he paused when his phone started to ring.

We both looked where his phone was, resting on top of his duffle bag, the photo of Rachel flashed on his screen, making me frown. Randy looked back at me only to look back at his phone and reach for it. Sitting up, I was about to get up and start packing only to my surprise Randy clicked the decline button, making the ringtone stop and forcing her to voicemail. “I’m all yours tonight, baby.” Randy smiled. “I want my cock buried in your sweet ass.” 

Randy pushed my upper half down onto the bench, forcing me to lay down again. Pushing his trunks down, he stepped out of them and threw one leg over the bench to where the bench was now in between his legs. Randy scooted me closer to him where his large cock rested against my hole. “Fuck, you look so hot.” Randy grabbed his cock and started to stroke it. “My champion.” He purred.

“Wait Randy.” My eyes looked over at the unlock door. My family and friends were somewhere backstage looking for me. “My friends they’re expecting me- oh fuck Randy!” I cried out as Randy pushed his large mushroom tip into my tight ring. 

“Yeah, you want your friends to walk in and find you so stuffed with my cock?” He chuckled, pushing his cock deeper into me. “You better stay quiet or else.” Randy demanded as he pulled his hips back only to slam back into me. My jaw dropped at the intimate feeling we shared. It’s been so long since Randy has been inside of me that it nearly makes me want to come. “Show your friends how much of a cock slut you really are.”

My bottom lip was pinned in between my teeth, biting down harshly so my screams wouldn’t escape. Randy’s thrusts became short and hard with each movement. “Fuck I miss you, I missed this tight ass.” Randy’s fingers dug into the flesh of my ass as his cock pounded faster into me. My body jolted forward slightly with each thrust, the wood nipping at my back from the fast friction being created. My stiff cock jumped with each movement Randy did. 

Wrapping my hand around my cock, I started to stroke it. “Good boy, such a good boy. Play with your cock, you deserve it baby.” Randy praised as he grabbed my legs, tossing them over his shoulders, he tilted his head, kissing my calf. 

“I’m so close.” I moaned, arching my back as I pumped my cock faster, squeezing it tighter. My stomach clenched as my balls ached, growing closer to my orgasm. 

“Come for me baby, don’t hold back. Come for daddy.” Randy’s hips snapped forward in quick movements, not missing a beat. “Come for me baby boy.” Randy encouraged me as his cock swelled inside of me. “I’m right behind you.” His voice gravely with every word. 

Fluttering my eyes shut, I squeezed the tip of my cock and jerked downward, coming back up I squeezed the tip once more and fucked my hips into the tight grip. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I climaxed all over my chest and hand. “Oh god, fuck.” I cried out loudly. 

Randy’s thrusts never stopped as he watched himself disappear and reappear with each movement. “So hot.” He mumbled to himself. The sight of Randy fucking into me must have done it for him because with a harsh snap of his hips, he was deeply inside of me, emptying his spunk. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He moaned. “I can feel your walls spazzing around my cock.” His legs shook as he rode out his high. “Fuck, oh my god.” He gasped for air as he slowly slipped out of me. His creamy ooz pouring out of my fucked hole.

“I need a fucking shower.” I panted as my body went limp on the hard uncomfortable surface of the small bench. 

“Well, let me clean you up.” Randy hummed, kneeling down once again he wrapped his lips around my sticky come covered cock, cleaning me. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” I breathed out, trying to push Randy off of my over sensitive cock. “Randy, fuck my cock.” I whined as he swirled his tongue over my twitching tip. He nearly started to make me hard again if it wasn’t for the loud slam of the door opening making myself and Randy jump.

“R- Randy?” A female voice spoke.

I swallowed hard to see Randy’s wife standing in the doorway, wearing his shirt in support of him during this big night.

“Fuck.” Randy whispered as he quickly grabbed the nearest thing to cover him which was his ring gear. “Rachel, wait listen to me.” He got in front of me to shield my naked body. 

“God! I can’t even look at you!” Tears appeared in her eyes as she left the doorway and down the hall.

“Randy?” I whispered to see him frozen in his spot. “Lets get cleaned up, come on Randy.” I said, going towards the door I shut it and locked it so no one else could come stumbling in. “Come on baby, let’s shower.” 

All these times Randy took care of me, now it was my job to take care of him.

Randy Orton's Masterlist