Ambam

collegegirly | mdni jey uso’s wife.

[ambersinterlude]

18+

Minors do not interact.

I hope you all enjoy.

All Of My Works Are With Black Female Reader.

OneShots

• Submission Hold

• Clingy

• Game Over

• No Breaks Baby

• Say It Like You Mean It

• From The Club To The Floor

• First Taste

• One Gift No Wrapping

• Act Right

• Behave Yourself (Or Don’t)

• Careful

• Late Night Calls

• Birthday Behavior: Part 1, Part 2

• Can You Handle It

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿

[citrusdummies]

not sure if you’re still taking requests for key west but id love to see a date night of roman and capri when things are good. or a family beach day idk i love seeing their dynamic. ohh another fun idea would be a possessive romantic moment before their breakup (you mentioned that a reason they broke up was because he’s very suffocating, jealous and possessive of her)

also plz not too much mia because its still very much fuck that hoe, cant wait till she gets killed off or hit by a car or something idk

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘.

fresh off his return home from his longest stint away, roman’s not expecting you to welcome him back with open arms. but he’s also not expecting to have to track you down via your location when he’s met with a quiet house. he’s not expecting to find you at vice city. and he’s definitely not expecting to see you there with your ex when he pulls up. not with the loss you’ve both been grappling with— the one you’ve had no choice but to deal with on your own.

toxic!babydaddy!roman x black!ex!reader.

content | miscarriage. angst. fluff. toxic dynamics. possessiveness. smut. public sex. unprotected sex. piv. daddy kink. degradation.

an | this is more so the possessive/romantic aspect of your ask anon. timeline wise, this is set some years before current day key west. after the miscarriage but before the conception of lorelei, when they’re still together.

KEYWEST!VERSE. | WC: 5K.

The rumbling hum of his Hellcat with the red guts fills the expanse of the vehicle as Roman swerves through the road, his fingers tightly gripping the steering wheel and foot pressed on the gas.

He’d landed on the island a mere hour ago after what has turned out to be one of his longest stints away from home. Away from you. Three and a half weeks this time, almost a month. 

After a certain point, it stops being just a hectic schedule and a series of conscious decisions. Deep down, he knows it. You do too despite his insistence otherwise during heated exchanges over text messages. He doesn't want to come home. He doesn’t want to face you. Face it. 

The path of less resistance is easier. This is easier.

It’s easier to accept duties that he isn’t contractually obliged to and keep himself occupied in random cities than it is to face reality. At The Dungeon with Nattie during the day, on the house shows he’d persuaded Hunter to put him on for the night, and working out until muscle fatigue at the gym during the hours that bridge the two.

It’s his job to protect you. It was his job to protect her, and he fell impossibly short. As a man, there’s no tougher pill to swallow, but especially for him. So he doesn’t. He just stays away from anything that reminds him of it. 

Until he can’t.

Until he feels the pull. Your pull. In the core of his torso, in his bloodstream, in his bones, in his heart. He always feels it, but with enough distractions, he can fight it and delude himself. He can pretend. But it grows undeniably stronger every day he’s away. And like a compass, no matter how lost in the woods you may be, the natural magnetic pull of our world always points back to north— back home.

However, when he makes it to the house, a shout of your name and the thud of his Nike duffle bag hitting the floor beside his suitcase does nothing but echo off the walls of his beachside estate. 

He receives no reply. 

He takes the stairs two at a time to check the bedroom, since there’s a chance you may have fallen asleep despite the fact that it’s a few hours earlier than when you typically hit the sheets, but you aren’t there. He checks different corners and crevices of the house: the kitchen, the other bedrooms, the bathrooms, the theatre room, the pool. 

You aren’t home.

Immediately, he’s irritated. 

He was already at his wits end with all this shit. Battered and bruised in more ways than just physically, he just wanted to decompress with you in his arms. Selfishly, he’d wanted to see you in that pretty yellow sundress you know is his favorite and jump into his arms before telling him how much you missed him, how much you need him. How much you still need him and that you’ll always need him. That he’s not a sorry excuse of a man and that you forgive him for the distracting argument you two were having on the phone seconds prior to your car accident that rainy night three months ago. 

He needs to hear it. He needs to feel it.

His irritation worsens when he pulls his phone out to view your location and it reveals that your pin is currently dropped at Vice City, one of the most popular nightclubs in downtown Key West. 

What the fuck are you doing at Vice City? Is the miscarriage not tearing you up from the inside out anymore like it is him? You don’t care? Is this just another small thing to a giant? Have you already put it behind you? Was it that insignificant to you?

He doesn’t call you. He doesn’t text you. 

He just leaves the house and gets in the car, the skin of his palm pink from his grip on his phone.

The ride is absent of the music that typically blares past the stereo, the rough bass and 808’s of his favorite Future songs that usually result in him mindlessly going ten over the speed limit replaced with still silence until he’s parking his Hellcat in front of the building.

He slams the door shut behind him and walks toward the line of people wrapped around the block. The bouncer, Namina’s brother, grins when they make eye contact and diverts his attention from the group of people he’s speaking to behind the rope. “Aye! What’s up bro?” The question is more of a statement that he lowly shoots back, followed by a smooth dap-up and the unclipping of the rope to cut Roman in— much to the displeasure of the people next in line, whose complains he pays dust as he slides into the establishment. 

He slips past and steps into the crowded club, scoping the scene engulfed in red lighting for a minute. But he’s bloodhound tailored to follow your ingrained scent to the end of the earth, so he could find you in the pitch dark if need be. And he does. After a few minutes of scoping the space, his eyes land on you by the bar, your back turned towards him as you seemingly speak to the bartender. 

Beside you, a man. Too close for both you and Roman’s comfort, but the guy’s clueless. Trying to buy you a drink. Not getting the hint. All up in your space and shit. One of them. Except he isn’t just some man. It’s Aiden. 

The unmistakable sensation of being watched urges you to look behind you, and when you toss a glance past your shoulders, you spot him. Or someone that looks eerily similar. For a second, you don’t move. You just look because he’s been away for so long, he looks something like a hologram; a technological projection. A hallucination rather than reality. But when he blinks and moves from near the entrance and takes a step towards you, you straighten up as a series of emotions course through you. 

Confusion. Relief. Happiness. Anger. Grief. Surprise. Relief. 

All of it hitting you all at once makes you a little emotional, warming your eyelids.

Instinctively, you tug down the rising fabric of your dresses hemline down from your under your ass as you travel down the small platform and through the sea of bodies to meet him, but his eyes don’t follow you. They’re firmly planted on your ex at the bar. It’s not until you’re inches away from him that his gaze flits to you.

You look up at him with a fold etched into the space between your brows, an inflection of pleasant surprise underscored in your voice despite how upset you are with him, “what are you doing here? You said next week.”

His eyes drink you in. The short dress fitting you like a hug, your hair and makeup, your nails. “What are you doing here Capri?”

You frown and silently hope he doesn’t have the audacity to take this somewhere he has no authority to given how distant he’s been both physically and emotionally, “I’m with Namina and the girls. They wanted to get me out the house.”

He points to Aiden with a minuscule tick of his head and you follow his line of sight, “that’s Namina and the girls?”

You huff out a breath of disbelief and cross your arms, “he popped up when I went to order. No more, no less. Don’t make it a thing, Roman. You’re in no position to question me right now.”

To say you’ve been understanding is an understatement. You know him well enough to know he’ll never say it. He’ll never admit that he’s been using every excuse under the sun to escape sitting with his grief. You know it’s the reason for every postponed return back to Key West. 

His coping mechanism isn’t healthy, but when has anything with him ever been? 

At the same time, him processing it the way he’s been is unfair to you. This is by no means something you should, nor do you want to, have to deal with on your own. But you haven’t been given a choice in that.

And for that, you’re upset.

So for him to question your coping mechanisms and the decisions of the people who have stuck around you while he was in whatever state doing whatever what? It’s absolutely ludicrous and you’re not having any of it.

Roman stares at you for a second before looking away like he does when he knows you’re right. His voice gets lower when he remembers how much your body language reflected that you were uncomfortable with Aiden’s proximity to you, “he bothering you?”

To keep the peace, you lie. “No.”

He extends a hand for you to take, and when you do after staring at it for a few seconds, he leads you to a dark, secluded corner of the lounging area of the club parallel to the bar. He takes a seat on the spacious velvet chair and manspreads before pulling you sideways onto his lap, moving your legs over the armchair.

The deep musk of his YSL cologne seeping past your senses when you rest your elbow on his shoulder disarms you. Like he used to do —whenever you and he weren’t on the best terms, unbeknownst to you— you found yourself spritzing his signature scent on your pillows on those sleepless nights while he was away just to help quell you like it was some sort of liquid melatonin. And it worked every time. 

He runs his big, rough hand down the expanse of your smooth leg. The music doesn’t quite reach the far corner you two are in, so his low voice is discernible. “Missed me?”

“Did you miss me?”

He blinks. Okay. He deserved that, regardless of the sting. He murmurs, “you know I did. Type of question is that?”

As he caresses your legs, you watch as his hand runs over a freshly healed scar from the accident right above your knee. “Nona came over the other day.”

He gets a whiff of vanilla cashmere from your neck when you nestle deeper into his embrace, “yeah?”

You nod. “It was honey salmon and rice this time.”

He hums nonchalantly, “Mm. I told her you ain’t like the broccoli and cheddar soup.”

He may have struggled to show up for you the way he should’ve. Physically and, subsequently, emotionally. But Roman has a historical track record of showing you how much he cares in other ways; ways far more action-oriented. Practical. Ways more natural to him. Which is why regardless of the distance, he’s been making sure you were being hand-delivered warm home cooked meals on a biweekly basis because he knew you were too beside yourself with everything going on to get up and sustain yourself.

You gasp and sharply pull away, turning to look at him as your stomach drops. “Roman!”

The motion of his hand pauses at your calf when you sit up, his face flat. “What?”

His mother has been nothing short of a ray of light while he’s been away. She visited you regularly. Brought you flowers with ever case of tupperware. Encouraged you to run errands with her just to ensure you’re getting some sunlight. Even going so far as doing chores around the house you’re too embarrassed to admit you couldn’t pull yourself to do on certain days. You’d hate to offend someone who’s done so much for you, “what do you mean you told her that? I never said that! I… liked it.”

He rolls his eyes. You’re too fucking polite for your own good. “There was more than half of that shit left in the container when she was sending the pictures, Pri. You didn’t like it.”

Ever since you were a child, you’ve despised broccoli and cheddar soup. Oddly, when you were pregnant, it was your number one craving. You didn’t want anything but it. So, it was a sobering moment when you stood barefoot in the fridge light and mindlessly brought that first spoonful to your mouth without a second thought. An emotional reminder that you hate it again, because you’re not pregnant anymore.

You sigh and melt back into his chest, his hand skimming across soft skin again. “That’s rude, Roman.”

“You’d starve otherwise, so I don’t wanna hear it. She’ll live.”

You stare at your heels atop the armchair. That’s an exaggeration. You wouldn’t starve, but it isn’t lost on you that he confirmed he’s been keeping tabs on you and your eating habits. As kind as his mother may naturally be, you’d be lying if you claimed you didn’t have a sneaking suspicion that he may have put her up to some of what she was doing. “I would not. I’m… cooking again.”

It’s a sentiment of a milestone; one that marks that clouds are parting to make way for the sun again. Parting enough for you to pick yourself up to complete what is considered a basic necessity. Though, it’s bittersweet because that signals this is nearly behind you now. An indication that she’s nearly something to put behind you now, when there was a day not too long ago when she was your future. 

Even from your side profile, he can see you crawling into the depths your head— so he pulls you out with a small dose of what you need, “to my misfortune.”

You roll your eyes with a loose grin and only start really laughing when you realize he’s not even smiling, which is how ninety-nine percent of the laughs he gets out of you work. Your laugh ceases, “you like my food.”

“Shit. I’m legally obligated to.” You smack your teeth and go to swat at his shoulder but the hand running up and down your leg jumps and intercepts it before it can land with a lazy smirk.

He sinks deeper in the cushioned seat to get even more comfortable, the nape of his neck resting lazily against the tip top of the chair. When he does, you two meet at eye-level. “Nah. I like your food.”

You smile into his chest, tugging down on your rising hemline before taking your small purse off your shoulder to pull your phone out. In the time that it takes you to do so and text the group chat your whereabouts so they don’t get worried, his hands start wandering. You two are tucked away in the darkest, most secluded lounging section of Vice, but it’s still an open area and people could see past the dark red ambiance if they set their mind to it.

He couldn’t be paid to care less.

He’s feeling you up. It could’ve passed off as innocent at first, the smooth cruise from your calves to your upper thighs when you cocooned onto his chest and turned your attention to type away at your phone, but then each pass becomes more and more pronounced. He shamelessly gropes the fat of your ass, runs down your thighs, and then repeats the process until you’re a little breathless.

“Roman…” Your meek voice is as small as a mouse, as if to warn him that you’re not in private and you’re surrounded by people. Except he seems to grasp that notion perfectly, because when you lock your phone with a click and crane your head away from the screen to his face, his hooded eyes are elsewhere. 

Across the room at the bar, your high school sweetheart’s good judgement keeps him bound to the stool. Still, he can’t help his shifty eyes above the drink he’s been nursing since your sudden departure. He tried to play it as cool as possible when he saw you tonight for the first time in a long time, but you’ve always had this innate ability of making him sweat. So it’s no surprise you slipped through his fingers. Again.

When you realize who Roman’s peering at and what exactly he’s doing through the red haze of Vice, you want to stop him in his tracks. It’s cruel and mean-spirited to subject Aiden to the sight. Yet, you don’t. You don’t because as vile as it may be, he’s sparking you up like a live wire. You’ve felt so alone through this all, even going so far as to using his cologne to psychologically pacify yourself, that the intimacy feels like the antidote. You’ve been craving this. You need this.

He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, grabbing one of your ankles and pulling it down a couple inches from the armchair and onto the cushion to create a small degree of separation between your legs.

Your phone buzzes in your hand as his sneaks up your warm inner thighs. His teasing caresses, your sensitivity, and the anticipation draws heat to your core. The Weeknd’s Party Monster pulses through the building as he noses at the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your ear. 

His fingertips barely grazes the outline of your lips through your thong but it sends goosebumps prickling up your arms, “missed me here?”

You nod as your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parting when he wraps your hair around his free fist and tugs on it at the same time he uses the pad of his thumb to press on your pulsing clit. “You’re gonna let him see you like this? Hmm? At my mercy like this? You know what he’s thinking right now?”

You let your phone drop onto the sofa seat and wrap your arms around the hunky arm leading under your dress as he gently rubs you in soft, small circles. “That you’re a slut. That you’re not that same girl he remembers.”

His fingertips lights delicious little sparks in your core, his antagonistic voice purring in your ear. “And he’d be right. He doesn’t have a clue as to all the tricks I’ve taught you. He’d be sick to his fucking stomach.”

The thought doesn't help the stiffening erection in the confinement of his pants, but your light squirming in his lap does relieve him of the tight pressure in his groin. His possessiveness over your naked form binds the fantasy strictly to just that— fantasy. The image runs rampant in his minds eye as the yummy pressure of his fingers against your swollen pearl draws your whines into his ear; sitting your weak ass ex into a chair in a corner and making him watch as Roman nails you to the mattress like you like. Making you tell Aiden how good he’s making you feel while you’re creaming on his big dick. Making you tell him how big his dick is. Busting all inside you while you’re face down, ass up while you struggle to maintain strict eye contact with Aiden because you’re coming too. 

Breaking his spirit.

Because maybe then, he’ll finally get it. Maybe then, he’ll understand who exactly you belong to. There will be no if’s, and’s, or but’s. The picture couldn’t be any clearer.

He huffs out a smug breath of humor past his nose when he already feels your pussy drooling past the fabric of your thong. He know just how to touch you, but also, he knows just what to say. How to talk to you when he’s touching you. You should be ashamed by the things he says, but it just activates you.

If a bystander doesn’t hyper-fixate on you two, it just looks like you’re really comfortable on his lap since the dim lighting makes it difficult to make anything out of his explorative hand.

He pulls on your hair to crane your head on his chest back and locks your lips in a slow, heated, sensual kiss as his wet fingers sneaks past the barrier of your thong. He blindly traces the thick lips of your warm cunt and uses three fingers to rub your clit with pressure so delicious that it makes you part from the kiss, “oh.”

Your mouths centimeters apart, he stares intently into your eyes as he slowly sinks his thick middle and ring fingers inside you. With every lazy pump, he murmurs devilish little sentiments against your lips.

… Missed this tight little pussy.

… Never stop thinking about you. Even if I wanted to, shit.

… Come on Daddy’s fingers. Nobody’s gonna see. Just us. 

… Shhh. Gonna blow our spot up.

He unwraps his fist from your hair and covers it over your mouth when your body stiffens and tightens your thighs over his other hand, but he maneuvers it. As luck would have it, the orgasm is both powerful and subtle. You come so hard your ears start ringing, your breathless moans muffled into his palm. 

He only finds the willpower to peel his eyes away from you when your heaving chest desperately searches for a lungful of air. His eyes dart over to the bar again, but Aiden seemingly nodded off some time ago because the stool he was sat on is empty. Surely when his eyes registered what they was seeing. 

Hm.

A small sense of victory overcomes the sliver of insecurity that’s been looming in the distance as he looks down at your pretty, blissed-out face. Insecurity stemming from the fear that he’s not only a sorry excuse of a man for not being able to prevent the loss of the baby, but also the fact that he had an active hand in causing it. Insecurity when he spotted you at the bar in fear that in his absence, you’ve started searching elsewhere for the comfort he hadn’t been able to provide you. That he’s ruined you for anyone new so you’ve started looking for comfort in the people of your past.

Perhaps it’s why he’d wanted to see what you’d say to him having you like this, why he wanted to see if you’d care too much about Aiden’s feelings to let him touch you like this. 

But you didn’t. You let him have you.

You still need him.

“Let’s go.”

You’re breathless. “Huh?”

“Up. Let’s go.”

He rushes you to your feet and snags your phone off the cushion as you messily roll your small purse up and hook it onto your shoulder. His hand tightly engulfs yours as he leads you out the discreet section and through the crowd. 

TEMPERATURE RISING, BODIES UNITING

NOW THAT I’VE TRAPPED YOU IN MY ARMS

NO NEED TO FIGHT IT, NO NEED TO HIDE IT

NOW THAT I’VE SEEN WHAT’S IN YOUR HEART

Namina, who’s been serenely kicking it with the group of people she came with ever since the text you sent letting her know Roman’s here and that you’re with him, pops the straw of her drink out her lips in surprise and reaches her hand out for you the moment your and her eyes lock as you pass by her on the floor— but he’s a man on a mission so he doesn’t stop, and you’re gone in a flash.

The fresh breeze of air that hits you the second you step outside is crisp. 

“Wait. Wait. Slow down.” Thank god you opted for kitten heels in lieu of something more dramatic. You have to do a little jog just to keep up with his massive strides, but you find his anticipation a little amusing. 

Roman does not. In fact, he’s one second away from saying fuck it, ducking off into one of the alley ways on the street, and pinning you to the brick walls but he knows you’d never have that. 

When you two finally reach his car, he spins you so your back is pressed flush against the back door and he’s on you in the blink of an eye. His hand on the sides of your throat, your lips latch like a lock and key. The kiss is erotic in nature despite how frenzied it is, and the light oxygen deprivation at your head when his fingers lightly squeezes mixed with the arousal from the kiss spreads heat through your body. 

He steps back and pulls you with him before unlocking and opening the back door of his Hellcat. 

You take your purse off and toss it onto the floor of the car, climb into the backseat on all fours, and take your heels off. He steps off the street curb to follow behind you but you lie on your back and press your the toes of your foot right at his lower sternum before he can enter. 

There’s a mischievous glint in your eye, “uh-uh.”

He pauses and looks at the white toes of your pretty arched feet, two miles of legs leading to a secret goldmine. The eighth wonder of the world. Confusion’s etched on that handsome face of his, “what?”

“Stay right there.”

When you peel your dress up at the waist just enough for you to hook your thumbs under your thong and roll it down your thick thighs, he immediately steps closer to block the view of you and looks around the sidewalk. Nobody’s around. Thankfully, he parked a block away from Vice because parking spots near the building were taken when he pulled up.

You drop that onto the car floor too, and then turn on all fours before getting as far as possible to the edge of your seat and perking your ass out. “I want it like this.”

You want him to stay outside and fuck you with the door open.

“You’ve lost your damn mind Capri.”

You plant your face on the seat and reach underneath your body to part your thick, wet lips with your fingers and give him a show. Still sodden from your earlier orgasm, “please Daddy? We’ll be fast. Plus we’re so far. Nobody’s gonna see.”

He doesn’t know what the fuck he’d do if somebody happened to see you like this, but perhaps this is the monster he made. You never used to be so adventurous. You were as vanilla as they come, on par the course with your ex boyfriend, but you’d been corrupted. Irreversibly. Shit, he can’t believe there was a time when getting you to even talk back to him during sex was an achievement. 

Your eyes hone in on his unmistakeable bulge. “You're so hard. I know it hurts. You know I know to fix it. Let me fix it. Seven minutes max. A quickie.”

His jaw tight, he sighs before shaking his head and unbuckling his pants. He unzips his zipper, pulls his thick cock out from his boxers, and strokes his rock hard erection with a hiss. “Scoot back.”

A rush of adrenaline bolting through you, you follow his instruction and scoot back even closer to the edge of the seat. Your knees sunk onto the red leather of the interior, only your legs and feet protrude out of the car. He steps in between them and runs his dick up and down your drenched slit to lubricate himself. One hand balling his shirt into his palm and his other hand at your ass, he lines himself at your hole and uses his grip at your ass to slowly push you back into swallowing him. 

“Ohhh.” You roll your bottom lip into your mouth and revel in the sweet sensation of him inside your snug walls. You coat him in your arousal immediately, his entire length wet with every drag. 

He watches intently as his big dick splits you in half, but you just take it like the slut you are. The one he corrupted you into being. Uniquely for him. “That’s my girl. Feel so perfect for Daddy. Shit.”

You mewl and whine into the seats, helplessly creaming all over him as he bullies into your wet pussy. “Oh my godddd. I missed you.”

“You missed me?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too baby. F-fuck. Never leaving again.”

You cry out when he thrusts as far as he can go before pulling out to the tip and repeating the process, your wet pussy squelching with every shove. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his wet thumb raises to caress at your puckered hole as he stuffs you full, “feels so fucking… good. Oh.”

He loves when you get like this. When you get so dickdrunk you can’t make anything out of anything. Making sense is just a suggestion. He’s the only person who can do it to you. Who will do it to you. It’s his responsibility to make your body feel this good. 

Red lips parted on red leather, you start throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts when you feel his fat cock throbbing inside your tight walls. Your hand travels under your body to rub firm circles onto your clit when you hear him grunt. 

He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls as he drills into your squelching cunt, “wanted to get fucked where anybody could see. Hmm? Want people to see how good I make that pussy feel don’t you baby? Wanna get caught getting slutted out.”

He’s pounding. “Fffffggg.”

His voice is devilishly low, “shit. You feel so fucking good. Let me nut in it baby. It’s all yours. I’m all yours. Everything’s yours.”

He does you in for nearly ten minutes, but your orgasm still catches you out of nowhere, and it takes you out of your body. It starts at the innermost part of your core and works itself outward until it touches your toes like a shock wave. You can’t talk. You can’t even cry. You’re just victim to the sensation possessing you.

His grip on your hair forces your rolling eyes to face the stars on the ceiling of his Hellcat as he grunts like he’s in pain. The siphoning muscles of your slippery pussy sucks on his big dick until he falls off the ledge. He thrusts as deep as he can go before stilling and shooting rope after rope after rope inside you, groaning huskily as his empties his balls.

Your sharp inhale signals the waning of the waves, his hands running up and down your quivering thighs to quell you as he catches his breath.

After buckling his pants back up, he slowly slides out of you and picks your thong up off the floor mat. He slides it back onto your legs and slips into the car right beside you, “come here.”

You gather yourself enough to climb on top of him and straddle him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. He’d think you fell asleep if not for the faint flutter of your lashes against his skin every now and then. You stay like that for a while, his hand running up and down the expanse of your back.

“Roman.”

“Hm.”

A pause. “I can’t do that again. I wouldn’t survive it. I don’t want you to… I need you to stay.”

He doesn’t reply, he just caresses your back in silence. 

He will.

[lovergirlcinema]

Got a few drabble ideas that can be for Michael B Jordan or Shawn Hatosy.

-giving them head while they’re on a Zoom interview

-quickie backstage during an award show

-leaving noticeable hickeys or scratches on them and they have to be on set the next day

lovergirl featurettes (ft. Shawn Hatosy) (18+)

Listen, Shawn Hatosy does not play when it comes to your pleasure. In that bedroom, it's pure sacred filth that happens between the two of you. Seeing as though he's filming for Season 2 of The Pitt, you can't get enough of him. The scrubs and silver hair are really doing it for you. With you being his girlfriend, he's just as insatiable for you, which is why he can't get enough of hearing your needy little whines in his ear.

He has your legs pressed to your chest and your feet dangling over his shoulders. The gold anklet with the 'S' charm dangled precariously from your ankle with each thrust.

"Does that feel good, baby? Huh? Daddy's digging you out?" Shawn mutters against your lips as he continues plunging deeper inside your wet center.

Throughout the room, there's nothing but pornographic sounds that you both make. The wet sound of your pussy combined with the slapping of his hips against yours is music to his ears.

Quite naturally, you start pouting. That same pout lets him know that you're so close to that sweet release. He drops his full weight on you and presses his lips to yours in a nasty kiss.

"Daddy," you cry out against his lips once he starts thrusting faster inside you. Each thrust brings more of your wetness trailing between the two of you. It's all so overwhelming. You need an anchor in some way, so you hook your arms across his back, and your nails dig into the skin.

Shawn hisses from the sting of your nails, but it only seems to spur him on to fuck you harder. "You like marking me up, Princess? Come on, baby, I know you're close. Let go for me."

The course hair from his pubes is catching your clit in that delicious way that you're familiar with. The combined stimulation, along with the pure filth that he's whispering in your ear, is enough to send you over the edge. A loud scream leaves your mouth as your walls clamp down on Shawn's dick.

He smirks at the absolute blissed-out look on your face. You dig your nails deeper into his skin, and the combination of pain and pleasure meshes into one until he groans loudly against you. You shiver and moan at the feeling of warm release filling you up. You always loved the way that his cum felt inside you. _

The next morning, Shawn has to get ready for another day of filming, which coincidentally happens to be the famous "I'll pay for it" scene. As he enters the shower and the hot water hits his back, he hisses at the sensation.

He steps out of the shower and turns to look at his back. He chuckles to himself at seeing the angry red lines littering his back. Shawn steps into the bedroom where you're lying.

"You did a real number on me last night, honey," He quips.

You look up at him in confusion, "Me? You were the one rearranging my insides."

He raises his eyes, "Yeah, well, I'm the only one with battle scars to prove it." He turns around, and you catch sight of the red lines running down his back. You cover your mouth, but fail to hide the laugh that escapes you, "Oh my gosh, baby, I'm so sorry. But this is all your fault. The dick's too good."

Shawn huffs in amusement and turns back around. He crosses the room to stand over you, "You're right. But lucky for you, I like knowing that I make you feel good." He leans down to connect his lips to yours.

"Nope, I will not be the reason you're late again. Get moving, Dr. Abbot," You said, thinking back to all the times he's been late putting you through the mattress. _

When Shawn makes it to set, he has to go to the makeup department to get the makeup applied for his fake gunshot wound. He pulls his shirt over his head as Megan, the makeup artist, steps back.

She gasps and practically clutches her pearls at seeing the red lines on his back. Shawn turns to give her an innocent smile, "My girlfriend told me to tell you she's sorry."

Megan chuckles before walking to get her kit to cover his scratches. While he's alone in the makeup chair, Shawn turns in the mirror to snap a picture of his back in the mirror.

He sends it to you.

Shawn🦊💕 Be ready for me when I get home. You owe me, baby😏

[r-truth]

[fabxpunk]

[punksyeetgifs]

Solo Sikoa Doing The Oba Strut

WWE Raw - June 1st, 2026

🏷️: @miss-kuki-nz @spiicii @romanreignsbae @rollinsland @lovelikebuttahbaybee @dpriestxripleysgirl @xnightmarexpunkx @jeysslut @mari3st4r @wwecu @drivefouronthefloor ⋆˙⟡

[yeezyyae]

Listennn, Jey Uso is living his best life & I am all here for it! Him singing 🗣️”Roman…Roman Reigns” is so perfect for this chapter of The Bloodline Saga🩸😎🐐💪🏾 cause I am singing at the top of my lungs too!

[piinkbenjamins]

the first time you walked in on your cousins bf naked you barely even saw anything but bare ass.

you didn't shriek, obviously. but seeing his bare asscheeks spooked you. you let out a sharp breath, the towels you had in your hand falling in a soft thud.

though cody? didnt react as such. he just chuckled, slowly wrapping himself with one of the towels. "if i didnt know how innocent you were, i would've though you did that on purpose."

"i-im so sorry!" you quietly spoke, backpedaling out of the room super quick. your heart was in your ass, rubbing your chest once you were in the safety of your room.

a part of you was super embarrassed, wanting to cover yourself in a invisibility cloak forever. but the other part of you…

…wanted it to happen again.

and a month later, it just so happened again.

it was late, and no one was home. you were so half asleep you wandered into your cousins bathroom instead of yours.

seeing your cousins man, in his full naked glory woke you the entire fuck up. it also didnt help that cody stared at you like you were a piece of meat.

dammit, you forgot you were only wearing a very old tank top and a thong. and your titties were barely contained in said tank top.

instead of saying sorry this time, you opted on taking a look on the wild side.

and if 'the wild side' meant covering your mouth as codys massive length pumped in and out of you, whispering in your ear about how much tighter and wetter you were than your cousin? than so be it.

you hated that bitch anyway.

[dpriestxripleysgirl]

tequila and cream

pairing — jimmy uso x fem!reader word count — 3.7k summary — shots just taste better when they’re poured straight onto you warnings — titty fucking, marking, drunk sex, biting, alcohol consumption, body shots, possessiveness, titty worship note — i told you guys i needed to write for him more. so don't mind me as i build up my jimmy collection. there’s really no plot at all here general masterlist jimmy uso masterlist join my taglist here ♡

The party had died down a few hours ago.

The thumping bass and laughter fading into memory as the two of you stumbled back into the luxury of the hotel suite. The sudden silence was almost jarring after the chaos downstairs. Just the soft click of the door lock and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Jimmy kicked the door shut behind you with a heavy thud, his arm slung low and possessive around your waist. He pulled you flush against his side, unable to stand even an inch of space between you.

He was definitely feeling the drinks. That lazy, bright grin on his face, eyes dark and heavier than usual. There was a slight sway in his step as he walked you backward toward the living room couch. He was still in the black shorts he’d thrown on after the event, the thin material riding low on his hips. The scent of his spicy cologne mixed with the faint trace of liquor and sweat from the night. It clung to his skin, warm and intoxicating.

You weren’t much better.

The rum and whatever else Jimmy had been putting in your hand all night had you warm and giggly. Your body humming with that perfect, hazy buzz that made everything feel a little more electric. Your skin felt extra sensitive. Every brush of his fingers on your hip sending little sparks straight down your spine. Your dress felt too tight, your thighs too warm where they rubbed together with each step.

Jimmy dropped onto the couch first, pulling you straight down into his lap so you were straddling one of his thighs. The movement hiked your dress up high on your legs, the heat of his bare thigh pressing right against your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties.

His big hands settled on your hips, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles over your dress, fingertips dipping just under the hem like he couldn’t help himself. You looped your arms around his neck, hands sliding down to rest of the backs of his shoulders. Your fingers traced the warm, smooth skin there as you settled against him.

For a long moment neither of you spoke. Jimmy just held your gaze, dark eyes locked on yours with that quiet intensity he got when he was a few too many drinks deep. He leaned in, nose brushing along your jaw before his lips found the sensitive spot just under it. He nibbled softly, sucked gently. The scrape of his teeth making you shiver.

“How you feelin’, baby?” he murmured against your skin, warm breath fanning over the damp spot he’d just marked. “Still good? Still with me?”

You smiled, fingers tightening on the backs of his shoulders as you tilted your head to give him more room. “Mmm, better than good.” Your voice came out as a whisper, breathy and a little giggly from the buzz. “Just really warm. And really into you right now.”

Jimmy hummed low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as he gave another soft bite before pulling back just enough to look at you again. That lazy grin was back, but his eyes were darker. Heavier. The drunk haze mixing with something deeper and hungrier.

“Room service ain’t got shit on what I got in here,” he grumbled, voice low and rough with that signature smirk of his. He nodded toward the mini-bar at the corner. The one he’d had fully stocked the second you checked in. “Grab that bottle of tequila off the counter, baby.”

You raised an eyebrow, already grinning as you leaned back slightly in his lap, reaching over and snagging the half-full bottle. The glass was cool against your palm, the liquid sloshing softly.

Jimmy’s eyes dragged slowly down your body, dark and heavy, lingering shamelessly on the low neckline of your dress and the soft, full swell of your breasts. His hands tightened on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to pull you closer, pressing you down harder onto his lap so you could feel exactly how hard he already was beneath you. His cock was thick and hot, straining against the thin material of his shorts.

His hands slid up your sides, hooking two fingers into the neckline of your dress and tugging it down roughly. The fabric bunched beneath your breasts and they spilled free into the cool air of the suite. Your nipples tightened instantly under him, heavy and sensitive.

Jimmy’s gaze was pure hunger now, dark and unashamed, lips parting like he was already imagining the taste of them.

“Pour it,” he rasped, barely more than a growl against your skin. “All over these pretty tits f’me.”

Heat flooded through you at his words, but you didn’t wait for him to ask again. You tilted the bottle and poured a slow, steady stream of tequila right down the center of your cleavage. The cold liquid made you gasp sharply, sliding down the warm valley between them in shiny, glistening streams.

It dripped over your nipples, making them pebble even tighter, and pooled on the soft, full curves before spilling lower in thin, teasing trails.

Jimmy groaned deep in his chest the second the first drop hit your skin, the sound vibrating hot against you. He ducked his head immediately, dragging his tongue slowly up the center of your tits in one long, broad stripe, licking through the tequila with a filthy, satisfied moan that went straight between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…” he muttered against your skin. “Taste even better like this.”

He didn’t stop. He licked and sucked at every single drop. Tongue swirling around one nipple before moving to the other, sucking the tight, tequila-slick bud into his hot mouth with a wet pop. His hands squeezed your tits together, pushing them up and in so he could bury his face between them, licking and kissing and biting softly at the sensitive flesh while more tequila dripped down.

Your hands gripped his hair, arching into his mouth with a soft, breathy moan. The buzz from the night mixing with the heat of his mouth until everything felt hazy and electric.

Jimmy groaned again, the sound muffled between your breasts as he sucked harder, tongue flicking and swirling while his hands kneaded and squeezed, completely lost in the taste of you.

The more he tasted, the drunker he got– not just from the tequila, but from you.

His movements were getting sloppier, more desperate. His tongue dragged heavier across your skin. He was less precise, chasing every glistening drop with open-mouthed, hungry licks that left long, wet trails behind. His breathing was heavier now. Hotter against your chest, each exhale coming out in a shaky groan. You could feel the way his hands trembled slightly as they squeezed your breasts together again, nose pressing deeper into your pillowly flesh.

Every broad swipe of his tongue sent sparks racing across your skin. Your nipples were tight and aching from the constant attention, each flick and suck making your thighs clench around his hips. The mixture of spit and liquor dripped down your stomach in warm, sticky trails, cooling quickly in the air and making you feel exposed and filthy and so fucking wanted.

You were buzzing harder now, the alcohol and the taste of his mouth making everything feel slow and intense. Your core was throbbing against the hard ridge of his cock through his shorts, soaked and aching, every little grind of his hips sending fresh heat deep in your belly.

When he finally pulled back for air, his lips were shiny and swollen, glistening with spit and liquor. A thin, sticky string of it connected his mouth to your nipple for a heartbeat before it broke and dripped down your breast. A few pieces of hair fell into his eyes as he looked up at you.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, glassy, the usual sharp focus softened by the alcohol and the haze of you. His cheeks were flushed darker than before. He looked completely gone. Drunk on the taste of your skin. On the way you were letting him devour you like this.

Without warning, he leaned up and kissed you. It was deep, messy, tequila-flavored. His tongue slid against yours immediately, hot and insistent, and you tasted everything. The sharp bite of the liquor, the salt of your own skin, the faint sweetness of his mouth.

He groaned into the kiss, low and filthy, one big hand still cupping your tit. His thumb rolling slow and rough over your nipple while he kissed you, wanting to consume you from the mouth down.

“More,” he rasped, pulling away from your mouth. His words were starting to slur from how far he was gone. “Pour me s’more, baby. I ain’t done yet.”

You tilted the bottle again, pouring a fresh, slower stream right over your nipples. You gasped at the feeling, a full-body shiver rolling through you as it cascaded down the curves of your breasts.

The chill of the tequila against your overheated skin, the way it made your nipples ache even more— had you rocking helplessly in his lap, grinding down against the thick bulge in his shorts.

Jimmy dove back in like a man starved.

Every so often he’d pull back just enough to look at you, lips parted and shining, before diving back in. Sucking harder, biting gently at the soft undersides, leaving little red marks that bloomed under his mouth. His hips rocked up against you in slow, needy grinds, pressing his hard cock against your core through his shorts, the friction making you both moan.

But it wasn’t enough for him anymore.

Jimmy’s hands tightened on your hips, fingers digging in almost bruisingly as he groaned against your tit. His breathing was ragged, hot and uneven, the alcohol making him bolder. He gave one last hard suck to your nipple, then suddenly gripped your waist and lifted you off his lap like you weighed nothing at all.

“Down,” he muttered. “On your knees. Right here.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was guiding– pushing– you down onto the floor in front of the couch. Your knees hit the soft carpet between his spread thighs. Jimmy leaned back against the cushions, legs splayed wide, one big hand shoving his shorts down to free his cock.

It sprang out, already slightly weeping at the tip. He wrapped a hand around the base and gave himself one slow stroke, eyes still locked on your tits.

You thought you knew what he wanted.

Your hands slid up his thick thighs, nails draggling lightly over the warm skin as you leaned forward on your knees. Your lips parted, mouth starting to water as you moved to take him in. The head of his cock was right there, flushed and shiny, and you were drunk enough that the only thought in your floaty mind was to taste him.

Before your lips could even brush the tip, Jimmy’s hand shot out.

His fingers tangled tight in your hair, yanking your head back with a firm, sudden tug that made your breath catch. Your mouth was still open, tongue halfway out, when he stopped you cold.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured, voice still thick and slurred. “No.”

You blinked up at him, confused and a little dazed, the drunk haze making everything feel slow and fuzzy. Your lips were still parted, breath coming quick and shallow as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Why’d you have to stop? You had been so sure it was what he wanted.

The way he was stroking himself, the way he was looking at you, the way his cock was leaking right in front of your face. Your hands stayed on his thighs, fingers flexing against the muscle as you tilted your head, brows furrowed in confusion.

“But… I thought…” Your voice came out soft, your words dragging out, still tasting the tequila on your tongue from earlier. “I was jus’ gonna–”

Jimmy’s grip in your hair tightened for a second, almost painful. Just enough to keep you right where he wanted you. He looked wrecked already and you hadn’t even touched him.

“I don’t want your mouth,” he growled, the words a little clumsy but clear. “Not tonight. I want these.” His free hand came down, cupping one of your tits and squeezing. “Want you to bounce these pretty fuckin’ tits around my cock. Now.”

Your confusion quickly melted into understanding. You nodded lips still parted, the sting in your scalp from his grip only making your pussy wetter.

“Okay… yeah,” you whispered, breathy and obedient. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Jimmy released your hair, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied groan as you pressed your breasts together with both hands and slid them around his thick, leaking cock. The moment you squeezed them tight around him, you looked down.

God. Your tits looked ruined.

The soft, full curves were flushed red from all the sucking and biting he’d been doing. Everywhere his mouth had been was marked– dark, blooming hickeys and the clear imprints of his teeth scattered across the tops and undersides. Some already turning that bruised purple-red that would impossible to hide.

Your nipples were swollen and puffy, covered with spit and leftover tequila, still tight and aching from the constant attention. The mix of it all glistened on your skin in messy, wet streaks, causing the marks to stand out even more under the low light.

You could feel the heat radiating off them, the way the skin felt tender and sensitive where his teeth had sunk in. Every little shift made them throb. A sharp, delicious reminder of how greedily he’d ravaged you just minutes ago.

The thick, flushed head of his cock pushed up through the tight, slick valley you’d created, smearing fresh pre-cum across the already messy skin. The contrast was filthy. Your soft, bruised marked up tits wrapped around his hard, veiny cock. The shiny red of your skin against the darker flush of his length.

Every upward bounce made your breasts jiggle and slap together around him. The wet, obscene sounds filled the quiet room as more spit and tequila and pre-cum mixed together and dripped down onto his lap.

You felt dizzy with it all.

The alcohol made everything feel slower and more intense at the same time. The heat of his cock sliding between your tits, the way your nipples dragged against his skin with every bounce.

Jimmy’s groan was low as he watched the same sight, his hips rocking up to fuck your tits harder.

“Fuck. Look at that,” he slurred, one hand coming down to cover yours, helping you squeeze your bruised breasts even tighter around his cock. “So pretty and red. Bouncin’ them tits on my dick. Such a good little slut f’me.”

You kept bouncing, slow at first, then faster. You watched the way his cock disappeared completely between your tits only to reappear at the top, dark and slick, the head nudging your sternum. The marks on your skin stretched and pulled with every thrust of his hips, the sting and pleasure building until you were moaning right along with him.

Jimmy’s hips started snapping up harder, fucking your tits with short, needy thrusts that made thrm bounce and jiggle around his cock. The mix of fluids made everything slippery and warm as you kept squeezing your tits tight around him.

You were bouncing them for him now– lifting and dropping your breasts in rhythm with his thrusts, the heavy, tender flesh slapping together around his thick cock. Your nipples rubbed against his length on every stroke, so sensitive they ached, sending sparks straight down to your core.

Your pussy was fucking soaked.

You could feel it. Your panties were completely drenched, the heat throbbing between your thighs as you rocked in time with him on your knees. The friction and the sight of him losing it between your breasts made your clit throb in time with every thrust.

But Jimmy wasn’t even thinking about your pleasure right now. He was drunk, selfish, and completely focused on the tight, warm tits wrapped around him.

“Shit,” he breathed out, eyes red as he stared down at the sight. His hair was falling messily across his face, strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. “Need you doin’ this all the time.”

He groaned loud and low, hips snapping harder, the head of his cock smearing pre-cum in shiny streaks. His hands covered yours again, helping you squeeze your tits even tighter around him, fingers digging deep into your flesh.

“You don’t even know,” he panted, hips fucking up into your cleavage with sloppy, desperate strokes. “Want these tits marked up and bouncin’ on my cock every fuckin’ night. So soft… so warm. Fuck, baby. Just like that–”

You moaned softly, the praise and the sting of everything making your pussy clench around nothing. You kept bouncing your tits faster, squeezing them tighter around his throbbing cock. The slick, messy sounds were growing louder as more pre-cum leaked from the tip and coated your skin.

Jimmy’s head tipped back against the couch for a second, his mouth open, before he forced his eyes back down to watch. His breathing was growing more ragged, chest heaving quickly, the drunken haze making every movement sloppier. His cock throbbed violently between your tits, the head swelling darker as he got closer.

“Gonna cum all over these pretty tits,” he growled, voice broken. “Gonna paint ‘em so fuckin’ good. “

You squeezed your breasts even tighter around him, bouncing faster, looking up at his wrecked face through your lashes.

Jimmy’s grip on your hands tightened bruisingly as his thrusts turned erratic and he came hard with a deep, guttural groan.

Thick, hot ropes of cum shot across your tits in messy spurts, painting the soft, already marked skin in pearly white streaks. Some landed high on your chest and collarbone, dripping down your neck in warm, sticky trails. Others coated the tops of your breasts, pooling between them and sliding over your swollen nipples.

His cock pulsed and jerked between your breasts as he kept fucking them through it, milking every last drop while you kept bouncing, squeezing him tight until he was spent and shaking.

Jimmy’s head fell back again, hair plastered to his face as he panted through the aftershocks. His hands stayed on your tits, lazily smearing his cum across your skin like he wanted to mark you even more.

You looked down at the mess. Your bruised, red tits covered in his cum. Nipples shiny and puffy. The bites standing out even brighter against the white streaks that dripped down your neck and chest.

Jimmy lifted his head, glassy eyes meeting yours. A lazy, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “Look at you, all covered in me.”

You smiled up at him, still on your knees between his legs, glistening with his cum, the haze between you thick and warm. His hands slid down your waist and with a possessive growl, he pulled you straight back into his lap, straddling him again. Your cum coated tits pressed against his chest as he settled you where he wanted you, your soaked pussy pressing against the still-hard length of his cock.

Jimmy didn’t waste another second.

He ducked his head and dragged his tongue slowly up the center of your cleavage, licking a slow, filthy stripe through his own cum. The wet heat of his mouth made you gasp. He groaned deep in his chest as he tasted himself mixed with the salt of your skin and the lingering tequila.

“Mine,” he muttered against you, thick and slurred. His tongue moved slower, licking every thick rope of cum off the soft curves of your breasts. He sucked gently at one nipple, pulling the puffy bud into his mouth along with a mouthful of his own release. He then moved to the other, cleaning you with long, lazy strokes of his tongue.

You moaned softly, fingers threading back into his messy hair as he worked. The sensation was overwhelming. The warm, wet drag of his tongue over your sensitive skin. The way he licked and sucked and swallowed, gathering every drop like he couldn’t stand to waste any of it.

You were still tender from all the earlier abuse, the fresh hickeys and teeth marks throbbing under his mouth as he licked over them, soothing and claiming at the same time.

Jimmy tilted his head and licked a slow trail up the side of one breast, then higher, chasing a thick streak that had dripped onto your collarbone and neck. His tongue dragged over your throat, sucking gently at the skin there, tasting himself on you while his hands continued to knead the soft, cum-slick flesh of your tits.

“Fuck, taste so good,” he groaned against your neck, drunk and hazy. “These are all mine. My pretty tits, my marks. All fuckin’ mine.”

You rocked slowly in his lap. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing against his cock, but Jimmy wasn’t focused on anything but cleaning you. Licking every last drop off your chest, your nipples, the undersides of your breasts, even the little trails that had run down toward your stomach. His hair kept falling forward, brushing your skin, sticking to the wet mess as he worked.

Every slow, filthy lick made your nipples ache and your core clench. The drunk, possessive way he was devouring his own cum off your tits had you dizzy. Soft little moans slipped out of you as you held his head to your chest and let him worship you.

Jimmy finally pulled back just enough to look at you, glassy eyes staring at your now clean but still bruised and glistening tits. He leaned in and pressed one last, slow, open mouthed kiss between them, tongue darting out to catch the very last drop. He rested his forehead against your chest, breathing hot and heavy against your skin.

“Damn… could stay buried between these all night,” he slurred. “Best fuckin’ view in the world.”

Taglist: @spiicii @fearlesschimera @moxley99 @lovelyjay45 @luuvprincess @psilovey0u @dangerouslylunarwind @sharmelasworld @punksyeet @sgt-peppers-coffee-club @yana3sworld @jordan5230 @paigereeder @lexisnicole25 @lovelikebuttahbaybee @magnificentbouquetmusic @wrestlingprincess80 @jeysslut @nmivraez @uceyliyahh @auraluvsyou @m00nlitnight @buttercup0024 @i1ovecash @xnightmarexpunkx @brianochka @rickyshii @beccalynns-world @cottagecorecass @i5uckersblog @chrizzztharocket @definitely-canon @clem-en-tine1 @grxmmkxttie

[piinkbenjamins]

you have no idea how you did it but somehow the club promoter had the hots for you.

you decided for the first time in months, at the behest of your inner feelings, wanted to go out and dance at the club.

you figured you'd have to be on the dancefloor, but were suddenly whisked to a section that already had bottles and the hookah for your friends.

he would saunter to the table, asking everyone if they liked the table. he only stared at you the entire time, like he was waiting for your approval.

"do you do this for everyone or im just that pretty?" you playfully asked, not expecting a real answer.

"yeah, you're definitely that pretty. if y'all need anything just let me know." his grillz shined as he spoke, confidence dripping off of his tongue.

every now and then he would play songs that you liked, causing you to of course sing and dance in the section with your friends.

you weren't really a drinker, so the sodas and water kept pouring for you and you only. everyone else only got more if you asked a waiter for more.

by the time the club would close the man sauntered back over, everyone except you now drunk and ready to go.

"next time you come in here by yourself, i'll treat you much better. you babysitting everybody here i couldn't even ask you to dance." the man kept a respectful distance, though his minty fresh breath wafted your face.

"yeah? ion even know your name." he smirked as he got closer, licking his lips.

"its jacob mama, and you could wear it out anytime."

you shook your head as you were now being walked out of the club, waving at the male.

you were def coming back to the club just for him.

—————

something short and sweet, hope y’all like it! you might get something like this for damn near everyone this weekend.

[honeyforbey]

Baby Daddy: Cameron Cade

Pairing: Tyriq Withers (Cameron Cade) x black!fem!reader Summary: In which your baby daddy is dropping off yall's kid, but tries to hit on you. (Short smut cause i got lazy) Note: this was supposed to be out a while ago but i got really busy. Better late then never, right? My friend lowkey helped me write this. as always, sorry for any bad grammar.

“Boy, gimme my baby,” you said, taking you and Cameron’s daughter from his arms as he stood out on the porch of your house. He had her all weekend, and you missed her. “Come on, Y/N, you gon’ let me hit that?” he asked with a smirk. “Only thing you hittin’ is the road. Bye, Cameron,” you replied, taking the baby’s bag from him. “Damn, no need to rush a nigga. You not gon’ offer yo baby daddy no water or nothin’? Damn, you cold. Real cold.” He shook his head.

“Brr, bitch. Kick rocks.” “Come on, Y/N, just let me in. Five minutes. You know you miss Big Poppa.” He smirked. You rolled your eyes. “Shut up… Fine, Cameron. Fine.” You moved out of the way. He eyed you up and down before walking in. You closed the door behind him and headed toward the baby’s nursery. You heard footsteps behind you, so you knew Cameron was following you.

“Cameron, stop followin’ me around my house like a lost puppy,” you muttered, laying your daughter down on the changing table. “I ain’t lost. I know exactly where I’m tryna be,” he replied smoothly, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. You sucked your teeth. “Boy, please.” “What?” He grinned. “You can’t blame me for wantin’ my family back.” You paused for a second at that word. Family. Cameron noticed it too.

“There you go gettin’ quiet.” He smirked, pushing himself off the wall. “You still love me.” “I still wanna fight you too. What that mean?” you shot back quickly. He laughed under his breath. “See? This what I missed.” You ignored him, focusing on fixing the baby’s little onesie after changing her. Cameron walked closer until he was standing right beside you. Too close. “You smell good,” he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes even though your face was getting hot. “Back up before I spray you with formula.” “Nah, you like me right here.” Before you could reply, the baby let out a little giggle and grabbed onto Cameron’s chain. His whole face softened instantly. And that’s what always got you. No matter how much he irritated you… he loved his daughter down bad. Cameron looked over at you while bouncing her in his arms. “See? She want her parents together.”

“You are so delusional.” “But am I wrong?” He tilted his head with that cocky smile you used to hate. Used to. You walked past him toward the kitchen. “You wanted water, right? Get your water and go home.” He followed right behind you again. “Damn, why you actin’ like I can’t spend time with my girls?” “My girls?” You turned around. He stepped closer. “Yeah. Mine.” Your breath caught slightly when his hand landed on your waist.

“Cameron—” “Nah, let me talk.” His voice got lower now, less playful. “I know I messed up before. I know I get on your nerves. But every time I leave this house, I be thinkin’ about you.” You stared at him silently. Then his smirk came back. “…And you thick as hell in them shorts.”

You stared at him for a second before shoving his shoulder. “Boy, if you don’t get out my face.” Cameron laughed, grabbing his chest like you hurt him. “Damn, that’s how you treat somebody tryna be honest?” “You was doin’ good till you started talkin’ nonsense again.”

“Nah, I’m dead serious.” His eyes dragged over you again before he grinned. “The shorts just distracted me.” You sucked your teeth and turned away so he couldn’t see your smile trying to creep up. Cameron noticed anyway. He always noticed. “There go that lil’ smile.” “Ain’t nobody smilin’.” “Mhm.” He leaned against the counter while you grabbed him a bottle of water from the fridge. “You still got attitude, but you softer now.”

You handed him the water. “Don’t push it.” Instead of taking the bottle right away, his fingers brushed against yours. Slow. Intentional. Your stomach flipped and you immediately pulled your hand back. Cameron smirked like he won something. “See? Still got you nervous.” You tried not to laugh, but a little snort slipped out anyway. Cameron’s whole face lit up immediately. “There it is.” He pointed at you. “Knew you still thought I was funny.” “You are actually so aggravating.”

“And you still let me come over.” “That’s for the baby.” “Mhm.” He nodded slowly like he ain’t believe you at all. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.” You shook your head and walked past him, but Cameron reached out and caught your wrist gently. Not enough to stop you completely, just enough to make you pause. The playful look on his face faded a little. “I’m serious though.” His voice got quieter. “I miss you.”

Your heart betrayed you instantly with that stupid little flutter in your chest. You hated that. Hated how one soft sentence from him could sneak past all your attitude. “Cameron…” “Nah, listen.” He stepped closer. “I know I be playin’ too much sometimes, but I mean that.” His thumb brushed lightly against your wrist. “I miss comin’ home to you. Miss hearin’ you complainin’ in my ear. Miss you yellin’ at me for leavin’ my shoes everywhere.”

A smile almost pulled at your lips again. “Because you dirty.” He laughed softly. “See? That right there.” For a second, neither one of y’all said anything. The tension felt different now. Quieter. He looked down at your lips for just a second before looking back at your eyes. “You still wear that lip gloss I like,” he mumbled. You immediately stepped back, pointing at him. “Don’t start.” A cocky grin spread across his face again. “Too late.”

“Cameron, I’m serious.” “And I’m listenin’.” He moved closer anyway, slow enough for you to stop him if you really wanted to. “You keep tellin’ me to back up, but you ain’t pushed me away yet.” You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Mostly because he was right, and that irritated you more than anything.

His eyes stayed locked on yours before flicking down to your lips again. “See? There you go gettin’ quiet.” “You make me tired.” “Nah,” he said softly, “I make you nervous.” You sucked your teeth and tried to turn away, but his hand caught your waist before you could move too far. Not rough. Just enough to pull you back in front of him.

“Cameron…” “What?” His voice dropped lower. “Tell me to stop forreal.” The problem was… you couldn’t. Not when he was lookin’ at you like that. Not when his hand was warm against your waist. Not when every little memory of him kept rushin’ back all at once.

His grin faded a little when he realized you weren’t pulling away anymore. For once, Cameron got quiet too. Then his fingers tilted your chin up gently. “You still so pretty,” he mumbled. Your breath caught slightly. “Boy…” Before you could say anything else, his lips brushed yours. Soft at first, almost teasing. Like he was waiting to see if you’d stop him. You should’ve stopped him.

Instead, your hand grabbed the front of his shirt, and that was all the permission Cameron needed. He kissed you again, slower this time, and you hated how familiar it felt. How easy it felt. His other hand slid against your waist while yours stayed bunched in his shirt. The kiss got deeper for a second before you finally pulled back, breathing hard. “See?” Cameron smirked a little, forehead still close to yours. “Knew you missed me.”

-----------------------

The bedroom was quiet except for the TV playing low in the background. Cameron sat against the headboard like he lived there, one arm stretched across the pillows while he watched you move around the room. “You always doin’ somethin’,” he muttered. You glanced over your shoulder. “Maybe because somebody in here keep distractin’ me.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “So I am distracting?” “Don’t start gettin’ cocky.” “Too late for that.” His eyes dragged over you again, making your stomach flip a little. “Come here.” You ignored him at first, fixing your shirt even though it didn’t need fixing. Cameron just watched you quietly for a second before patting the spot beside him on the bed. “Why you actin’ nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.” “Mhm.” He tilted his head. “Then come here.” You rolled your eyes, but eventually walked over anyway. The second you got close enough, his hand caught your wrist gently, pulling you onto the mattress beside him. “Cameron—”

“What?” he murmured, already way too close. “You keep sayin’ my name like you want me to behave.” “And you don’t.” “Nah.” He smiled a little. “Not around you.” Cameron’s hand stayed on your wrist a second longer than it needed to. Not tight, not forcing—just there, like he wasn’t in a rush to let you go. You tried to steady your breathing. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, voice low. “Act like you don’t know what you doin’.” That made him laugh softly. “Maybe I don’t.” But the way he was looking at you said otherwise.

The space between y’all got smaller without either of you really moving at first. Just eyes locked, the teasing slowing down into something heavier, quieter. “You still mad at me?” he murmured. “…I don’t even know right now.” “That’s fair.” His thumb brushed lightly over your wrist, like he was testing if you’d pull away. You didn’t.

That pause was all it took. Cameron leaned in first—slow, giving you time to stop him if you wanted. You didn’t. And when his lips met yours, it wasn’t rushed or playful this time. It was quieter. Intentional. Like he’d been holding it back and finally stopped pretending he wasn’t.

-----------------------

You were laying on your back, the bottom half of your body hanging off the bed as Cameron stood in between your legs as he stood at the edge of the bed thrusting in and out of you. "Shit, this pussy is still so tight" He groaned as he pounded into you. Your hand gripped his forearm as your head was thrown back against the pillow. His left hand gripped your thigh, fingers digging into your skin. As his right hand rested on your lower stomach. "Fuck Cameron" you moaned as you gripped his arm tighter. "You gonna give me another baby?" He questioned as he moved his right hand down and started rubbing your clit "Y-yes, oh my gosh, yes!" You moaned out as your legs started shaking.

"Im so close, Cam" "Cum for me baby" He muttered in your ear as he leaned over you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a train as your release gushed out around his cock. "Fuck baby, there you go. Shit, im about to cum too" He groaned in your ear as he started thrusting faster. He thrusted in you a couple more times before he buried his cock deep inside of you, his thick cum flooding your pussy. "Fuck" He groaned in your ear as he gripped your waist.

He collapsed on top of you, the both of you panting heavily. He looked up at you, his hand coming up, cupping your face and tilting it for you to look at him. "I was for real when i said i missed you.... Missed us" You looked at him "I wanna come back home Y/N" You stared at him a little longer before smirking "I think about it" He groaned "Your unbelievable"

[yourleogf]

met gala ❥ tyriq withers

PAIRING: tyriq withers x black!fem!reader

SUMMARY: inspired by this post + this Twitter post + this edit + this second edit + this third edit + this TikTok + in which you and Tyriq sneak off to the bathroom amidst the Met Gala for a little screen time, but instead of a taking a picture, you end up taking something else. 🩷

AUTHOR’S NOTE: the minute i saw this man at the Met Gala, i knew i had to write something about how GOOD he looked 😩 then my Tumblr algorithm did its thing & i saw the post tagged above, SO ENJOY THIS WHILE I FINISH OTHER DRAFTS 🤭🤭🤭💐

TAGLIST: @darkseidex @plan3tch1ld @cozygirljay @mooki3-bear @houseofathenaa @h3avenlyglory @isthattyra @pinkhoodi @k0niiii-blog @vanillaiceyhot @hismainchic @bamb1ss @numberoneszafan @freshbonggwater @saltygoldengirl @mxnijuana @manitsunamii @snowseasonmademe @chaotuics @fifi-asco @the1miscief @theesexyyaquariuss @evimmarvel @sativadivastuff @myhobari @n0r4sarchive @mamasturn @neighbourscat @thatonecarebear @hiitsmebbygrl16 @thatssokarii @hotgirlgenniesblog @kyomionline @arithescorpio @irunfadesoverkenny @watamotee33 @tenacioustestamentambush @koyadagreat @ynniksslirg @goldenelixer-24 @moneymeeeeeeeee @youdntknowmeirl @kaivsh @riahhmiyaa @prettygalleria @paris-chanel-blog1 @jaden1738 @kaystacks17 @superheroprincess22 @yourm0mish0t 🩷

“open up a lil’ wider for me, bae… uh-huh, there you go, pretty girl.”

your mouth opened wider on command as you pushed forward a bit more, slowly taking as much more of Tyriq’s dick as you could handle down your throat until you eventually gagged around him. you fisted the rest of his inches that couldn’t fit in your mouth and you stroked him with the same rhythm you sucked at, your mouth and hand moving in unison as soft gagging and the sound of spit filled the air.

“fuck, look at you. so damn beautiful with this dick in your mouth, baby.” Tyriq groaned, cradling the back of your head in his unoccupied hand, as his fingers lightly threaded through your hair and he gently guided you up and down, not wanting to take over your movements but wanting to help you out with them instead.

you moaned against him in response and you pulled back from his dick until only his tip was in your mouth as your other hand wrapped around him and you started jerking him off while paying special attention to the sensitive head of his long inches, earning a deep moan from him while his grip in your hair slightly tightened.

“look at me, bae.” when your eyes lifted to Tyriq, you weren’t expecting to see his phone angled down at you and recording the lewd act you were engaged in, but you weren’t put off by it. in fact, it made you determined to make him cum quicker, and your hands sped up on his dick before either of you even realized it.

you pulled your mouth off of his tip and stuck out your tongue instead as you slapped and rubbed the throbbing tip against your tongue, keeping your hands steady and maintaining your rhythm while your tongue swirled around the head and slid across the slit in it.

“shiiiit… damn, mama,” Tyriq gutturally moaned, his hand sliding down from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, as he lifted the phone and angled it towards the mirror, recording at a different angle and perspective, “keep goin’, baby, fuck… you doin’ so good f’me.”

the change in perspective showed more than his point of view did — it revealed his unbuttoned shirt, his tensed abdomen, and your slightly messy hair. it also displayed the color of your gown in a different lighting, the front of it tucked underneath your knees to soften the floor beneath you.

however, the mirror perspective really emphasized the movements in your hands and head, a soft hum falling from your parted lips before you took him back inside your mouth again.

Tyriq watched you in the mirror for a moment before looking down at you, watching you remove both of your hands this time and bob your head quicker than you initially did. your eyes flickered up to his and the two of you made eye contact as you held your hands behind your back and took him in deeper, soft gagging noises filling the room again for each time he hit the back of your throat.

Tyriq’s jaw slightly dropped and his lips fell ajar as groans and moans erupted from his vocals, the sound of them echoing inside the bathroom and harmonizing with the sound of slurping from you. a furrow formed between his eyebrows and his lashes fluttered as his hand moved from your neck to your jaw, cradling it in his hand and pressing his thumb against your cheek while he watched his dick disappear and reappear inside your warm mouth.

“mmh, fuck, i’m ‘bout to nut, mama… ‘bout to nut all in this good ass mouth,” Tyriq moaned, the furrow between his eyebrows increasing, as his grip slightly tightened on your jaw and his phone and he lowered the camera back to you, wanting to record the moment he painted the inside of your mouth with his cum, “don’t stop, baby, keep goin’. just l-like that, beautiful…”

and you didn’t stop. you wouldn’t stop — not until your boyfriend was satisfied and completely drained of his seed.

[h3avenlyglory]

“Dickin’ Me Down, Spolin’ Me.” Lover Girl❥Megan Thee Stallion

wc- 0.630

Summary- Cameron never fails to spoil you and make sure you can't walk for a week.

A/n: This idea came before all the bullshit with Kl*y and I didn't feel like finding another song. My smut is a little rusty but enjoy this nasty drabble!

CW- Mature Content, P in V, dirty talk, car sex, cowgirl, ass grabbing & smacking, condomless sex(wrap yo shit), pet names(slut, pretty girl), he calls himself daddy(twice), maybe a little repetitive, etc.

He had the money.

Why not spend it on his lady? That's all he did, spoil you endlessly, store to store, card from card, rack on rack, and bag strings leaving imprints on his arm.

You were his girl and in his eyes, you deserved it all.

Channel

Prada

Gucci

The list goes on, you were laced in luxury and money. Your outfits normally cost more than the store you were in. It was a routine you got used to, but of course, there was a trade.

The car was humid and polluted with the smell of your sweat and the sappy juices riding down onto the seat. Your sweat-soaked skin clung together, warm breaths against each other's skin, disheveled and heated.

Your heavy thighs were pinned on either side of his, your sweat and fluids mixing into a moist solution smeared all over both of you.

The pressure of his large fingers shoving into the meaty fat of your ass and his dirty whispers kept your hips rolling forward in slow drags.

“Look at you, a nasty mess for me. Take all this dick, I know your pretty pussy can.” His words laced with lewdness, made sparks ride up from your gaping hole to your throat causing a choked moan to pour from your mouth.

“Fffuck Cam!” The pornographic cry was so loud that you were certain someone heard you outside the car.

“Dirty slut, takin’ all of me and moanin’ my name. You want Daddy to fill you up huh?” He tauntingly cooed, drilling his hips upwards and dragging his length through your sticky insides while his cock head collided with your G-spot.

“Y-yes please!” You mewled, drawing your hips in a sensual motion, pinning your hip bone against his as your walls embraced each inch of iron length.

“Do right then, pretty girl.” With those words came a hard slap, the sound rippled through the air. Your squeal that came along was high and piercing, the impact encouraged you to move faster.

His cock was pinned in place and you rode back and forth, hips dancing and pussy squirming around him. Your hole squirted and squeezed around him, leaving creamy juices riding down him.

His hot tip leaked droplets of pre that mixed with your lubrication, his head was pinned to the headrest, and his hands were digging into your flesh while he swallowed back groans of pleasure.

You towed your hips perfectly dragging over the sensitive veins of his hardened cock, your motion colliding with his bulging sensitive veins, and your walls hugging his inches he could feel his orgasm building at a relentless pace quicker than he intended.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as the orgasm ran over him, “keep goin’ pretty girl, let daddy milk you.” He choked on his last few words, his tip shooting out hot ropes of cum, painting your tight walls white.

He hammered up, fitting himself deep inside of you and gaining a merciless pound. Your fingers curled around his biceps, fingers pressing deep into the sweaty flesh, biting back the screams daring to leave your lips.

One last tight hug around him then you released. Your cum spewed out of your hole gapping open, gushing out of you along with your cries of pleasure.

“Cam shiit!” The tears fell over your waterline because of the overwhelming pleasure, your eyes squeezed shut and your head thrown back.

After the ecstasy of your orgasms, your head fell onto his chest while you breathed in his scent. His finger trailed down your spine in a somewhat comfortable motion and his nose was pressed against your scalp.

“You good?” His smoky voice cut the silence.

“Mhm.” You mumbled with a nod.

“Alright, we'll clean up and go get those sunglasses you've been asking for.”

Thank You For Reading

Please Support Your Creators By Reblogging.

@uzmacchiato, chain dividers.

[yourleogf]

Hey Gurl! Could you write a story with Cameron Cade inspired by Freakum Dress by Beyoncé? Like have Y/N wear the freakum dress to seduce cam?

thanks boo!

if i can’t have you ❥ tyriq withers

PAIRING: tyriq withers as “cameron ‘cam’ cade” from “him (2025)” x black!fem!reader

SUMMARY: inspired by “Freakum Dress” by Beyoncé + in which you and Cameron are flings that see each other from time to time, but when he suddenly gets a girlfriend, he cuts you off and moves on without you like you don’t exist. little does he know, you won’t be leaving him alone that easily — or ever. 🩷

AUTHOR’S NOTE #1: also inspired by “tell me what you want” by Sasha Keable (“fuck is a break when i’m on all fours for you? told me you ate, well, here, i got some more for you.”) + “I’ll Kill You” by Summer Walker & Jhené Aiko (“don’t want no problems, i wish a bitch would. try to come between us, it won’t end up good. you know i love you like no one else could.”) ✨

AUTHOR’S NOTE #2: also inspired by my lovely moot @slvttyfied’s “A Thin Line Between Love And Hate” series that i’m still so deeply engrossed in 🤭

TAGLIST: @darkseidex @plan3tch1ld @cozygirljay @mooki3-bear @houseofathenaa @h3avenlyglory @isthattyra @pinkhoodi @k0niiii-blog @vanillaiceyhot @hismainchic @bamb1ss @numberoneszafan @freshbonggwater @saltygoldengirl @mxnijuana @camesgf @snowseasonmademe @chaotuics @fifi-asco @the1miscief @theesexyyaquariuss @evimmarvel @sativadivastuff @myhobari @n0r4sarchive @mamasturn @neighbourscat @thatonecarebear @hiitsmebbygrl16 @thatssokarii @hotgirlgenniesblog @kyomionline @arithescorpio @irunfadesoverkenny @watamotee33 @tenacioustestamentambush @koyadagreat @ynniksslirg @goldenelixer-24 @moneymeeeeeeeee @youdntknowmeirl @kaivsh @riahhmiyaa @prettygalleria @paris-chanel-blog1 @jaden1738 @kaystacks17 @superheroprincess22 @yourm0mish0t 🩷

“said, it’s been a minute since i had some. he’s been actin’ up, but he won’t be the only one…”

you and Cameron started off as classmates. nothing more than just two people who sat beside each other in the same classroom for an hour and a half throughout the semester. you never paid him any mind and he didn’t bother you like most athletes would when they saw an attractive girl — the two of you just minded your own business and continued on casually.

you didn’t really know how things shifted from strangers to flings, but when the two of you ended up having a one night stand after being drunk at a Homecoming party, you were sure that was when things changed.

even though both of you were intoxicated that night, the sex that transpired wasn’t forgotten when you awoke beside each other in the morning. you remembered everything and so did Cameron, which is why neither of you could leave each other alone after that.

the atmosphere in the class you two shared was never the same. it went from both of you paying more attention to yourselves than each other to you and him passing notes back and forth and his hand caressing your thigh under the desk. the sexual chemistry the two of you had was something different, in a more hypnotizing way.

it was like you couldn’t get enough of each other, and it grew harder and harder to try and keep your hands away from each other when you were in public, which led to rumors circulating around campus that you and Cameron were secretly dating.

neither of you addressed the rumors, though. you two weren’t officially together, but you also weren’t seeing or talking to other people — at least, you weren’t.

you and Cameron continued fucking around for almost the entire semester, until he randomly cut you off three weeks before it ended, leaving you stunned and completely throwing you off. you tried reaching out to him to get an explanation and see if you did anything wrong for him to just up and leave you like that, but he never called or texted you back. it was like he vanished into thin air when it came to you, but remained available for everyone else.

however, the moment you finally found time to confront him in person, you nearly flashed out at the sight of him kissing and hugging another girl in the middle of the courtyard — but the icing on the cake? the girl was Jasmine, the same girl you had two of your classes with.

you were never the same after that. you weren’t sad, no. you were far from sad. you were furious, bitter, jealous, and even revengeful — you were a woman scorned, and hell hath no fury like the wrath you were about to unleash on Cameron Cade.

you became quieter around campus, almost reserved. the people closest to you were concerned about your wellbeing, but you were eerily calm. you couldn’t let your emotions take over your life, but you couldn’t just let Cameron slip away from you and into another woman’s embrace. you needed a plan, a real good plan that would surely make him realize the mistake he was making — and that, you did.

throughout the last three weeks of the semester, you did more than just finish up homework and study for exams — you plotted, tremendously. you had to think of something that would scare Cameron straight and have him running back to you, but you also didn’t want to hurt him. you wanted to warn him, but you certainly weren’t going to repeat yourself.

this would be his first and final warning, and if he fucked up again, you’d punish him with actions instead of threats.

after the semester concluded and your grades and GPA were in great shape, you were able to fully focus on your plan, and luckily for you, the NPHC was having an end-of-the-year party at a frat house off campus tonight — an event that you knew Jasmine would be at because you stalked her Instagram on your burner account, a page that nobody knew about but you.

you waited until she posted a video at the party to confirm Cameron wasn’t with her, but to further solidify your assumption of him not being at the party, you stalked his Instagram. you didn’t find anything, so you stalked his friends’ accounts too, but you didn’t find anything there either — that’s when you truly knew he wasn’t in attendance.

upon finding realizing that, that’s when you set your plan in motion. you got dressed in a sexy black lace dress, the piece enunciating the fullness of your breasts and the curve of your ass. the dress was practically a type of negligée and it was so lacy that it didn’t leave much to the imagination, but that was exactly why you bought it — and it’s also why you chose to wear nothing underneath it.

your feet were enclosed in black pumps that added to your height, and once you finished admiring your appearance, you put on a black ankle-length trench coat and tied it at your waist, properly concealing your risqué form. after securing the knot, you slipped something really special inside the inner pocket of the coat before grabbing your keys and heading over to Cameron’s apartment, not bothering to inform him of your impending arrival.

it’s not like he’d answer your texts anyway, and you were through being ignored by him.

Cameron didn’t know what to expect when he heard a knock at his door, but you were definitely the last person he expected to see tonight. he answered the door in a tank top and some sweatpants, a look of confusion crossing his pretty face the minute his greenish-blue eyes landed on you.

“what you doin’ here?” Cameron asked as he leaned against the door frame and rested one of his hands against the side of the door, looking down at you as if he were assessing you.

“you gon’ let me in?” you simply asked, not wanting to beat around the bush with small talk, as you slightly tilted your head, “it’s cold out here, Cameron.”

you weren’t actually cold, but he didn’t know that. he wasn’t supposed to, actually. you didn’t want to stand outside on his door step and talk to him like a woman desperate for answers. that wasn’t your style.

you were far from desperate. you were as calculated as a person could be.

Cameron eyed your attire for a moment and took notice to your heels, but chose not to say anything. instead, he leaned up from his door frame and took a step back before stepping aside, allowing you inside.

you entered his residence, but you didn’t rush to sit. you didn’t want to. that wasn’t what you came over for. you came over to make a point: you will not be left high and dry while he experiences romance with someone who isn’t you.

you watched him shut and lock the door behind you, and the minute he turned around, you stepped closer to him, keeping him from walking past you and almost causing a collision between your bodies.

“why you been ignoring me, Cameron?” you asked, a small furrow forming between your eyebrows, as Cameron stepped back to create distance between the two of you and you immediately followed, your eyes slightly narrowing at the action, “i been calling you. texting you, too. and you just… disappeared on me.”

“i been busy,” the way Cameron could lie so smoothly to your face without considering the consequences almost made you want to punch him in his mouth, but you clenched your jaw instead to keep yourself from listening to the voices in your head, “my bad. just ain’t had time to check my texts lately.”

“mhm,” you hummed lowly as you stared up at him with a blank expression, seemingly calm on the surface but fuming in the inside, “that’s pretty funny, you know? especially since you’ve been real active on social media lately.”

“not to mention, you been flashing your lil’ girlfriend around campus, too. in fact… isn’t there a picture of you and her pinned on your Instagram that you posted three days ago, Cam?” you asked casually as you flashed a grin, though there was no joy in your expression whatsoever, “what was her name again? hm, let me think… oh! Jasmine, right?”

Cameron looked at you silently, though his face spoke more than his vocals ever could. he can’t say he didn’t expect this, but what was throwing him off was the scarily calm look on your face and the intensity in your gaze. there was something different about your presence and he couldn’t put his finger on it, but whatever it was had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at full attention.

“you didn’t stop speaking to me because you were ‘busy’. you stopped speaking to me because you got a girlfriend,” you chuckled bitterly as you glared at him, “uh-huh, that’s it. you cut me off and left me high and dry to go play boyfriend, that’s what this is.”

Cameron parted his lips to speak, but you immediately raised your index finger and sat it against his mouth, watching his lips immediately close again and his adam’s apple bob from a swallow.

“shut the fuck up. i’m talking,” you growled as you narrowed your eyes at him and removed your finger from his lips, your hand moving to grab ahold of his jaw to force him to maintain eye contact with you, “you think you can just fuck me and leave? huh? you think you can ghost me and move on like i don’t exist? like i didn’t become your stress reliever when you’d get out of football practice? like you didn’t have my legs pinned beside my head while you fucked me like i owed you something?”

“well, guess what? i’m not goin’ nowhere and i’m not sharing you, Cameron. you’re mine, so fuck her and fuck that lil’ ass ‘relationship’ you got with her,” you warned as you slightly raised your eyebrows to emphasize your point, “i’m only gon’ say this shit once, so you better heed my fuckin’ warning. because next time, i won’t talk and i’ll let you see for yourself how serious i really am.”

your hand left his jaw and went inside your coat to slip inside the inner pocket as your fingertips wrapped around your special toy and slyly pulled it out, pressing the cool steel of it underneath his chin.

Cameron’s eyes never left yours and his body tensed up as he swallowed hard at the feeling of your handgun against his warm skin, his jaw clenching slightly to contain the fear coursing through him.

“you feel that, baby?” you cooed condescendingly, smiling sadistically, as you slid the gun up to his cheek and gently tapped the barrel of it against his face twice, your smile widening when you saw him flinch, “you feel what’s gon’ happen to you if i catch you with her again? hm?”

you applied slight pressure and pressed the barrel of the gun further onto his cheek, watching his breathing hitch as his hands balled up at his sides. your eyes lingered on his face before slowly dragging down his body, finding satisfaction in seeing the way his body reacted to being held at gunpoint.

however, when your eyes dropped below his hips, one of your eyebrows rose at the sight before you, and you smirked patronizingly as your head raised and you looked up at Cameron, noticing the shift in his gaze.

“damn, if i knew you’d get hard from me pullin’ a gun out on you, i wouldn’t have waited this long to do it,” you chuckled mockingly as you pressed your body flush against his and watched him inhale sharply through his nostrils, his hard dick now pressed against you and pulsing through his sweatpants, “untie my trench coat, Cam. i got another surprise for you underneath it.”

truthfully, Cameron didn’t know how to feel because he had so many emotions coursing through him at once that it was hard to determine which one was the strongest.

he was afraid of what you’d do to him, but was also intrigued by how far you were willing to go just to have him to yourself. he felt embarrassed about getting an erection from your malicious threats, but his body seemingly had a mind of its own and viewed the gun as an aphrodisiac instead of what it actually was — something that’d be used against him without a doubt if he didn’t comply.

his hands trembled slightly as he raised them from his sides and grabbed ahold of the knot in your trench coat, his eyes nervously flickering between yours and the article of clothing on your body. slowly, Cameron untied the knot and gently pushed the coat open, inhaling sharply through his nostrils at the sight of the black lace against your bare melanated skin.

“f… fuck…” Cameron managed to croak out, his voice barely audible, as his eyes dragged along your figure and you smirked satisfactorily, pulling your arms back and shrugging the coat off of your shoulders until it eventually hit the floor behind you.

“you like it?” you grinned innocently, batting your eyelashes at him, as you pressed the barrel of the gun into the center of his chest and dragged it down his torso before stopping at his lower abdomen, causing his breathing to catch while his eyes dropped down to watch your movements, “i bought it just for you, baby… i remember you said you loved seeing me in lace.”

Cameron’s eyes found yours and he blinked through his hypnotic state as he gazed down at you and swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry the moment he tried to find his voice again. when he failed to speak, he nodded instead, the motion meek and almost submissive, earning a soft chuckle from you.

“mm-mm. use that mouth, Cam,” you cooed, a small smirk crossing your face, as you moved the gun to press into the center of his chest for a second time and your other hand reached down to his erection, wrapping your fingers around it through the layers of clothing and gently squeezing it, “tell me you like my dress.”

“…i-i like your dress…” Cameron admitted softly, his words a bit breathy from your grip on his dick, as his hands cautiously found your waist and you smiled in delight, your body instinctively leaning into the warmth of his palms while your eyes remained locked in on his face.

Cameron didn’t stutter often, nor did he ever speak timidly, but there was something about you that had him feeling more submissive than he ever had in his life — or maybe, it was just the effects of his life being on the line for fucking over the wrong woman that had him too fearful to say or do the wrong thing.

“how much?” you purred, gently biting down on your bottom lip, as you let go of his dick and slipped your hand inside his sweatpants, brushing past the waistband of his boxers with ease and wrapping your fingers around his bare phallus while you began to stroke him slowly.

a soft groan fell from Cameron’s lips and his grip slightly tightened on your waist as his head tilted back a bit towards the door and his hips gently jutted forward, pressing himself further against you and the palm of your hand.

“s-shit… so much, mama,” Cameron groaned as his hooded eyes left your face and averted to your body again, allowing them to slowly wander across your scandalously-clad figure and properly drink you in, “you look so fuckin’ good in that dress.”

your eyes lit up and you grinned widely, watching Cameron’s eyes choose parts of your body to momentarily fixate on before moving to another part of you. the term of endearment sent pleasant shudders through you and a moan of contentment fell from your lips as you slightly tightened your grip on his dick and sped up your hand a little, flicking your wrist to also stroke him in a circle instead of the only doing the standard up-and-down motion.

“good enough for you to bend me over that couch and fuck me in it?”

your hands clung to the couch cushions as you stood bent over the couch arm, a deep arch in your back while Cameron fisted your dress and bunched it up against the middle of your back. your moans and cries filled the room and echoed off the walls as sounds of skin slapping, groans, and wet squelching harmonized with your sounds of pleasure, Cameron’s other hand firmly gripping your hip while he deeply stroked you at a quick pace.

your ass bounced and rippled against Cameron’s pelvis and your breasts pressed into the couch as a furrow sat between your eyebrows and your mouth hung open, your jaw slack while your body slightly jerked forward with each of Cameron’s thrusts. Cameron’s grip on your dress tightened and his fingers dug into the material before it sharply ripped under his tight grip, earning a broken gasp from you as you felt him completely tear it off of your frame.

this — this is why you couldn’t let him go. he knew your body better anyone else did. he knew how to fuck you so good that you’d still feel him the next day. Cameron was notoriously skilled in bed, and you knew other girls on campus knew that because word gets around fast, but you were through sharing — you were completely over it, actually. you were tired of thinking about the next bitch who got to cum on his dick that wasn’t you.

this time things would be different — because you’d be the only one cumming on his dick from now on.

suddenly, the position switched and both of you ended up on the couch as you sat on his lap, your thighs on either side of his while you bounced at a quick pace. his large hands firmly gripped your hips to help guide you and he leaned up to you as he kissed you hungrily, desperately deepening the kiss while your hands clung to his shoulders.

you moaned into his mouth and he groaned into yours in response, but the moment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing, making you huff in annoyance before pulling away from the kiss.

your hips gradually slowed and you parted lips to question whose phone could possibly be ringing, but then you paused before a word to leave your mouth, and a smirk slowly spread across your face as you met Cameron’s gaze and slightly tilted your head.

that wasn’t your phone, and you knew it wasn’t because you left yours at home.

“answer it, Cam.” you grinned innocently, your hips coming to a stop, as you sat fully seated on his dick and caressed his shoulders with your fingertips, feeling them tense up from your words.

Cameron’s mouth opened to decline but you immediately glared at him before any word could actually leave his vocals, one of your hands leaving his shoulders to grab ahold of your gun.

“i wasn’t asking,” you remarked, your voice suddenly shifting to a snarky tone, as you pressed the gun into the center of his chest and your other hand tightened on his shoulder, your eyes slightly narrowing at him, “pick it up and put it on speaker. now.”

the moment your gun touched Cameron’s chest, his dick twitched inside you and his fingers flexed against your hips, his breathing hitching and becoming a bit heavier than before. hesitantly, Cameron took a hand off of you and leaned forward as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, looking up at you for a moment before reluctantly answering the phone call.

“hello?”

“hey, baby! i was callin’ to see if you were still awake or not ‘cause i’m gettin’ ready to come see you,” the sound of Jasmine’s sweet and unsuspecting voice echoed throughout the living room and you could feel Cameron tense up further underneath you, “i didn’t wake you, did i?”

your eyebrows immediately furrowed at her words, your eyes darting between Cameron’s face and his phone. she was “getting ready” to come see him? while you were here with him? you weren’t going for that. in fact, you were going to make sure she didn’t show up at all.

before Cameron could even open his mouth to speak, you started moving again, deep determination and pure fury surging through you while your grip tightened on his shoulder and you pressed the tip of the gun further into his chest. Cameron’s eyes slightly widened and he inhaled sharply through his nose as he watched you intently, unable to control the way his body responded to the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

“n— nah. nah, you d-didn’t.” Cameron tried to mask his pleasure, but his words came out completely strained and his voice slightly cracked as his hand left your hip and his entire arm banded around your waist, holding you against him while you continued bouncing on him.

you smirked sadistically and pressed your forehead against his as you slid the gun up to rest underneath his chin and pressed your chest flush against his, eliciting a quiet whimper from him while his colored eyes searched yours.

“why you sound like that? you okay?” the genuine concern in Jasmine’s questions only made your smirk widen and you bit down on your bottom lip as you pressed your knees deeper into the couch cushions and bounced harder, taking his dick as deep as possible while a furrow formed between Cameron’s eyebrows.

Cameron’s jaw fell open and his bottom lip trembled as he tried to form a sentence of reassurance to give his girlfriend, but a deep moan fell from his lips instead once he felt your tongue drag across his mandible. you smiled victoriously and dragged your tongue all the way to his earlobe, kissing it before flicking the top of it with the tip of your tongue.

“you know what i want you to do, Cameron,” you whispered patronizingly in his ear as your hand slid up from his shoulder to the back of his neck, cradling it in your palm while his arm flexed around you, “tell her you done with her. tell you don’t want her no more. tell her not to call you no more. tell her you leaving her. do it or i’ll kill her.”

“Cameron… are you good? what the hell was that?”

a desperate whimper fell from Cameron’s mouth, though he didn’t know if it was from fear or pleasurable, and the sound of your threatening whispers mixing with Jasmine’s innocent voice nearly sent him into psychosis, conflict and pleasure internally battling to control his facial expressions.

“J-Jas…” Cameron exhaled shakily as he swallowed hard and tried to steady his voice, but considering the position he was in — literally and figuratively — he knew it would be a waste of time, “i can’t… c-can’t do this wit’ you no m-more.”

“you can’t do what no more with me? Cam, what the hell you got goin’ on? like, seriously. ‘cause i know you not about to do what i think you are.”

you pulled back from Cameron’s earlobe and looked down at him, meeting his gaze that was somewhat unsteady. a stray tear formed in one of Cameron’s eyes and you smiled sadistically as you watched it roll down his cheek before wiping it away with the tip of the gun, making him flinch.

“do. it. Cameron.” you whispered demandingly, slightly raising both of your eyebrows, as you gently tapped the gun against his cheek and suddenly bucked your hips, earning another whimper from him.

“i-i’m… i’m leaving you, Jasmine. i c-can’t do this relationship shit wit’ you no m-more…” the words left a bitter taste in Cameron’s mouth, as if his stomach acid had refluxed and scorched the back of his throat. his body tensed after the words hit his eardrums, as if it had physically pained him to leave the woman he cared about.

but you? you were elated to see the words pour from his mouth, no matter how much they may have hurt him you say or how much they may have hurt Jasmine to hear. there was no going back after this, and you and Cameron both knew it, but sooner or later, you’d grow on him and he’d learn to love you like you loved him — frankly, he had no choice.

and just like that, Cameron was stuck between a rock and a hard place — the “hard place” being a woman he mistakenly fucked over who wouldn’t hesitate to kill to get him all to herself, even if it meant he had to die, too.

[yourleogf]

drunk & nasty ❥ tyriq withers

PAIRING: tyriq withers x black!fem!reader

SUMMARY: inspired by this ask + this Twitter post + see images below + in which too many drinks at a Met Gala afterparty causes you and Tyriq to get a little raunchy in the backseat. 🩷

TAGLIST: @darkseidex @plan3tch1ld @cozygirljay @mooki3-bear @houseofathenaa @h3avenlyglory @isthattyra @pinkhoodi @k0niiii-blog @vanillaiceyhot @hismainchic @bamb1ss @numberoneszafan @freshbonggwater @saltygoldengirl @mxnijuana @manitsunamii @snowseasonmademe @chaotuics @fifi-asco @the1miscief @theesexyyaquariuss @evimmarvel @sativadivastuff @myhobari @n0r4sarchive @mamasturn @neighbourscat @thatonecarebear @hiitsmebbygrl16 @thatssokarii @hotgirlgenniesblog @kyomionline @arithescorpio @irunfadesoverkenny @watamotee33 @tenacioustestamentambush @koyadagreat @ynniksslirg @goldenelixer-24 @moneymeeeeeeeee @youdntknowmeirl @kaivsh @riahhmiyaa @prettygalleria @paris-chanel-blog1 @jaden1738 @kaystacks17 @superheroprincess22 @yourm0mish0t 🩷

“put it in…” you begged breathily into your heated and sloppy kiss with Tyriq, your hands scrambling to his pants, as Tyriq groaned desperately against your mouth and he hungrily deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up your back before abruptly dropping between the two of you to help you with removing his pants, “please, baby…”

you and Tyriq were never the type of people to get drunk in public, but when you’re at a Met Gala afterparty and having a great time, things tend to slip by unnoticed by the two of you — including the number of drinks you had and how strong they were.

the moment intoxication settled in, raw need immediately followed it, and both of you felt like caged animals in heat that needed release as soon as possible. it was like you were different people — people who felt a sudden urge to just fuck the night away without any precautions.

you were sober and poised enough to bid goodbye to the others the two of you had spoken to throughout the night, but as soon as you left the party and got in the backseat of your car, all of that instantly flew out of the window. you were on each other like white on rice, and it’d take at least an army to pull you away from him.

your outfit had been tossed away and his jacket followed suit, leaving you in your undergarments and him in his pants. your hands moved feverishly, wanting to touch every inch of skin humanly possible, and both of you worked eagerly to take off his pants until they had been stripped off and thrown on the floor.

“Ty…” you whimpered softly against his lips, your voice laced with pure need, as Tyriq huffed out a low rough hum against your mouth and gripped your hips, pulling you flush onto his lap and making your hips roll forward against his clothed erection.

“too many layers… want you naked.” in a flash, Tyriq unclipped your bra with one hand and pulled off your panties with the other as he threw them presumably into one of the front seats and flipped the two of you over, the kiss unintentionally breaking while he pressed your body into the leather seats and rested his own against yours.

before Tyriq could do the honors, your hands were quicker than his and shot to the waistband of his boxers as you pulled them down and watched him shift out of them before throwing them to the floor.

one of your hands moved to grab the nape of his neck and you pulled him down for another hungry kiss as he kissed you back with equal fervor, his large hands gripping your thighs and pulling your legs around his waist before he finally pushed his dick inside of you.

the two of you moaned in unison when he slipped inside and his fingers flexed against your thighs as his grip slightly tightened and he deepened the kiss, your arms locking around his neck and keeping his chest flush against yours while your tongues tangled together.

once he was buried to the hilt, Tyriq started thrusting into you with ravenously passionate strokes, the car slightly rocking while he fucked into you with desperate hungry and a need to please. you whimpered against his mouth and he whimpered back in response as his fingers sunk into your thighs and held them tighter, his heavy balls quickly slapping against your ass with each buck of his hips while your slick walls greedily swallowed every inch of him.

you broke the kiss for air, but neither of you moved your faces apart from each other, your noses brushing and nudging together with each thrust while his forehead pressed against yours.

“oh, f-fuuuuck— don’t stop! d-don’t stop, baby, please…” you whined urgently, your hands clinging to his back, as Tyriq moaned gutturally in response and rolled his hips against yours, a small furrow forming between his eyebrows while he angled his hips to aim deeper, “y-yes! oh, yes! right t-there! oh, my Go— r-right there, Ty!”

“right here? huh? you like it when i hit that spot right here?” Tyriq murmured roughly, the ghost of a smirk crossing his slightly rosy face, as he kept his hips angled to hit that spot and you squealed loudly, your head falling back against the seats while your grip on his back tightened, “there she is… uh-huh, there’s my beautiful girl. my most prized possession with the best pussy in the world.”

“T-Tyriq!—”

“oh, i know, baby. i know — i’m right where you need me to be. i’m right where this pussy needs me to be. promise i won’t stop ‘til you’ve had enough of me, bae.” Tyriq pressed soft kisses down your jaw until he reached your neck, and he glided his tongue across your melanated skin before latching onto a patch of it, gently nipping it while soothing the incoming hickey with his tongue.

your noises rose higher in pitch and louder in volume as your eyebrows furrowed deeply and your jaw went slack, your mouth hanging open while your eyes rolled back. sweat beaded at your hairline and your hair slowly but surely got messier than before as your nails raked down Tyriq’s back and left long red lines, coaxing a deep groan of pleasurable pain from him while he continue marking your neck.

“f-fuck! nnnnngh, fuck!” you whined, slurring over your words, as your legs locked tighter around his waist and the heels of your feet dug into his lower back, seemingly motivating him to keep fucking into you like a rabid animal, “ohhhh, shiiiit— b-baby, i’m ‘bout t-to—”

“cum on this dick, bae. wet this shit up f’me. let me feel you soak up these seats, beautiful, c’mon,” Tyriq’s words sent you over the edge quicker than you expected and a throaty sob of pleasure fell from your lips as your climax rocketed through you, your eyes squeezing shut while your legs trembled, “mhm, that’s it, sweet girl. keep cummin’ and gimme’ all that good shit. wanna feel this greedy pussy squeeze around me some more.”

whatever alcohol you and Tyriq had drank at the afterparty, you certainly didn’t need to drink it in public anymore.

[minteagalaxea]

full throttle | r. reigns

roman reigns . world heavyweight champion

genre ⇢ smut (minors dni) . some plot  content warnings ⇢ car sex . sir kink . semi-public sex . hair pulling . unprotected sex (use protection!!) . cockwarming . praise kink . tears . overstimulation . age gap (reader is in twenties) . afab reader (she/her pronouns) . mild dissociation/sensory overload word count ⇢  3.7k inspiration ⇢ roman winning the whc . cars . that one scene in fast five (the one with han and giselle in the car) songs ⇢ "dfmu" by ella mai (x) . "bonnie and clyde" by dean (x) note ⇢ sorry i've been a bit mia! i've had some stuff go on in my life, and it has made it hard for me to write and post. thank you always to @spiicii, who has kept me motivated, supported, and encouraged. i love you lots, and this is for you 🩶🍵

the first thing she thought was that she won, and that she was too spiked up on adrenaline to really process exactly what just happened.

her holding a championship belt—a world championship belt, she should have added—was one of the more surreal things for her that weekend. as attention-grabbing as it was for her, she could barely remember all of the events that transpired after. she could recall posing for the photos with the championship for social media and the website, but she couldn’t remember explicitly doing it; she recalled her mouth moving as she answered the questions in the post-show, but she didn’t think that she actually did that. the words sounded like hers, but she didn’t think it was her mouth that was moving.

wrestlemania weekend, no matter how exhilarating it was, always tended to leave her overstimulated in the bad way. she couldn’t keep track of how everything was going, even if she was certain that she was the one performing the motions. she remembered being in the audience for the second night, flexing the championship belt on her shoulder and smiling with that high fashion beam. the moment the camera pivoted to other things, she allowed that ironed grin to falter just enough, even if she couldn’t completely shut it down. she did her job well. after all, so much of wrestling to her was performing, and at the very least, she could perform attentiveness and wonder. her mind continued its cocooning while she allowed herself to continue watching the main event, even as she gasped on cue when the announce desk broke or at the false pin.

in some twisted way, she could feel herself grounding back reality as they watched the match. roman was the person she could easily track, because she was absolutely abysmal at avoiding his gaze. he was magnetic in the way that only somebody who was the main event of wrestlemania for the 11th consecutive time could be. he felt larger in life, elusive, and rightfully so. they hadn’t spoken, but she knew that her admiration of him wasn’t a well-concealed secret among the roster. she was only fortunate that nobody ever made it clear to him. not that that mattered, since roman was part-time anyways. she was certain he wasn’t even aware of her existence. that was fine with her—at least then, she wouldn’t be able to embarrass herself in front of him.

she did come to the realization that the match was veering towards the end sooner than she would have wanted it to. apparently, a thirty-minute match would not help her get back into herself; she considered that a bit foolish of her. she found security escorting her to gorilla again for more press photos now that they had all of their crowned champions for the weekend. she shook hands with everyone, smiled graciously, and posed. the only thing she hadn’t anticipated was pr telling her to stand next to roman for the photo of the new champions for monday night raw.

at first, she made an attempt to stand a respectable distance from him, enough to portray as close. “get closer,” she heard someone say. her eyes, wide and dazed, wasn’t sure if she caught that correctly. before she could react, though, his hand (an admittedly large hand she definitely hadn’t fantasized about several times in an attempt to get off after watching his title matches), tugged her by the waist, placing her right by his side. both of them raised their belts high, staring down the camera with precision and no shortage of cockiness. at least, she attempted to emulate that.

the first thing she registered was that he smelled good, even through all the sweat and exhaustion. she deciphered notes of sandalwood and something that was distinctly roman reigns. the other thing she could process was how warm he was compared to her cold skin. “overwhelming, isn’t it?” he murmured through the static of her mind and the shutter of the camera.

her answer didn’t feel as automatic as perhaps it should have been, her voice foreign to her own ears when she responded, “how do you ever get used to it?”

even when all of the press shoots were done, he kept his hand on her waist, helping the two of them make their way to the dressing rooms. he answered as they walked, “you just do. take the loud with the quiet—it gets easier over time.”

she didn’t know if she could believe him. the entire weekend wasn’t even really loud anymore, now veering into overload as he dropped her off at her room, which granted barely enough privacy to take a moment to breathe before more celebrations began.

she knew that a few glasses of champagne slid down her throat a few times throughout the evening, but not enough to warrant being any way incapacitated through alcohol. she knew that she shook her head and said something about excitement and gratitude for being given the opportunity. she knew that she was smiling. yet, she couldn’t really register that the alcohol was going down her throat, that it was her head moving, that it was her muscles contorting into that beam, that it was her feet guiding her towards the corner. she wasn’t sure if she could properly breathe, even though she rationally understood that her body was able to breathe on its own, and could handle it just fine.

“you look like you’re five seconds from tapping out to an anaconda vice,” a voice dryly remarked. naturally, she turned her head up towards the direction of the voice’s owner. she most likely couldn’t keep the shock off her face when her brain finally managed to process (however slowly) the present visual and auditory stimuli that roman reigns was addressing her. but, this time, of his own volition.

she technically felt more than properly realized that his expression shifted from amiability towards concern—more specifically, that it was her fault. her breath hitched, pondering if she did anything wrong. did she not answer fast enough? did her smile seem too off? or worse: did she make it too obvious she was into him? the hypotheticals had her lungs struggling for air. not that she could entirely register it, because one moment, she was in the corner of the room with the otc, and the next moment, he had his hand on her waist, escorting them both out to the elevator.

“let’s get you some air,” he murmured, keeping his voice that unwavering baritone as he closed the elevator door, forcibly shutting the door before anyone else could enter and overwhelm her further. once the doors closed, he cautiously pulled her in, strong arms caging her into him. his voice broke through the fog, “it’s alright. deep breath in for me, yeah?”

her lungs followed, matching his pace as the elevator rode all the way down to the resort’s car garage. every instance the elevator door opened and stopped at a floor, roman immediately pressed it shut, ensuring total privacy and external insulation for her with every shiver she gave. each descending floor granted her another breath to return to herself.

by the time the elevator reached the intended destination, she felt mostly back. she regained enough clarity to realize that she was in a parking garage, following roman reigns to his car, an admittedly nice one. her steps began trailing behind his, hesitant while he guided her to the passenger seat, opening it for her to slip into. the moment he shut the door and joined her in the driver’s seat, she closed her eyes, shuddering an exhale so large, as if she was atlas and the belt was the entire planet on her shoulder.

“fuck,” she whispered, “i’m sorry you had to leave the party ‘cause of me.”

he extended his hand, leaving his palm up for her to take if she wished. she took it, allowing his hand to dwarf hers. “don’t apologize,” he said, unrepentant about affixing that heavy gaze on her erratically panting chest, “first one’s always the one that hits the hardest.”

“didn’t want to take you from the party though,” she murmured in apology, shuffling awkwardly in her seat to evade enough of the heat of his eyes. “you deserve to celebrate.”

“got my celebration right here, babygirl.” his free hand brushed her cheek, gently tugging her face up. she couldn’t avoid the sensation of heat on her face. her eyes frantically flitted anywhere but him, though he seemed to know what she was attempting to do in the first place, because he leaned in enough to rest his forehead against hers. roman’s tone took on a more impish foundation as he mused, “you’re cute when you’re trying to be subtle.”

“i’m sorry,” she squeaked out again, “it’s unprofessional, and i know it’s probably creepy for a twenty-something to be having a crush on you. i promise i’m not a stalker or anything like that.”

roman tilted his head forward enough to rub his nose against hers, lips curled into an amused smile. “now, who said anything about stalking?” her eyes bolted wide open to that, pulling away to make some sense of his mirthful eyes.

“i mean, it’s weird, ain’t it?” she mumbled, “you’re like…a superstar. i didn’t wanna make it weird for you ‘cause you’re not always here. i didn’t wanna make it unpleasant or uncomfortable for you every time you came back.”

roman chuckled, breath fanning against her lips and retorting, “trust me, angel, i wasn’t ever uncomfortable with you staring at me.” he didn’t have to say much else then, his insistence enough for her to brush her lips against his for a tentative peck. roman deepened it, shifting his hands to tug her closer past the console.

“fuck,” she moaned against his lips, fingers brushing his beard firmly. she leaned further over the console, shifting herself on the passenger seat to rest more of her upper body against his.

he groaned, amused still, yet more fond as they continued to make out, “sweet thing, aren’t you? all soft and needy from some kissing?” her cheeks flared, though she didn’t deny it when she kissed him again, squeaking when he forcibly maneuvered over the console functioning as a barrier.

her mind blanked out from being shifted however awkwardly from the passenger seat to be on roman’s lap—at least she figured this time it was from something pleasant rather than dissociation. she squeaked as he pressed her form up against his, allowing him to take all of her weight while she straddled his hips. “fuck, you’re adorable,” he cooed against her lips.

“thank you, sir,” she responded, voice growing shriller as she realized what she just said and what she just called him. for all of her troubles, she earned a deep-bellied rumble that let her know that she probably didn’t have to stop calling him that. if anything, he was turned on, if the growing bulge pressing into her clothed heat was any indication.

“call me that again, babygirl,” he growled against her mouth, the same way he did when he demanded acknowledgement.

“yes, sir,” she repeated, earning a heavy spank on her ass, “fuck!”

roman swallowed her sounds with a guttural groan, pressing her closer. his other hand came to cup her sex through her panties, shifting the skirt of her dress up to give him better access. naturally, she ground down on it, rocking back and forth against the weight and heat of his palm. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he breathed into her ear, allowing her to move her own hand down to fully grasp just how hard he was at the sight of her. she nodded, skin gently flushed from want and his attention.

tentatively, she palmed him, applying just enough pressure to not seem shy, but not being overzealous and presumptuous about how much pressure he would maybe like or want. roman responded beautifully to her touch, groaning especially husky when her finger rubbed the tip of his length, swirling the budding beads of precum around. his own hand shifted so that he could slip right through her panties; her own arousal coated his fingers in an unabashed, honeyed gloss. “sorry,” she mumbled, though she only sounded semi-repentant.

roman smirked against her skin, wetly smacking her pussy; she could only squeeze his dick harder for that. “cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he mused mirthfully, spanking her again, “but, i can’t blame you, can i? that’s how you got that championship.”

there was a part of her that lit up embarrassingly at the mere prospect that roman reigns watched her championship match, however short it was. when she mustered more courage to look up and gauge his reaction, she could only see pride reflected in his gaze, but also an awareness that he knew she wasn’t expecting it. “of course i watched, baby,” he chided fondly, kissing her forehead and then her pout away, “wanted to see you win your first world championship—the first of many. now, up you get, ‘cause i want you sitting on my cock.”

sue her. she was eager, exuberantly eager while she shifted her hips, allowing him to remove her panties. her own fingers worked to quickly undo his pants, pushing them and his undergarments far down enough to unsheath his length. she adjusted so that his tip brushed her slit, whining pleasurably every time the mushroomed head brushed her sensitive clit. “shit,” she whispered, overstimulated, “how are you gonna fit, you’re so fucking big?”

“don’t worry, baby.” his voice was cocksure, self-assured the only way a multi-time world champion and someone completely aware of his looks and its effect on other people. he nearly knocked the breath from her lungs with his cocky smirk as he promised, “i’ll make it fit.”

in one fluid motion, he effortlessly transitioned to slipping the tip inside her gummy walls, engendering a broken moan past her lips, arguably loud enough to shatter his eardrum. roman didn’t seem to care as he gripped her hips firmly, gravity taking over to have her impaling herself onto his dick. “holy fuck,” she gasped. her lips furled into a needy pout, one roman indulged with a searing kiss to her lips, enough of a distraction for the overwhelm that was just him filling her. she shivered and pulsed when she realized that he wasn’t even entirely in yet. that caused roman to groan, an animalistic sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“such a good girl,” he growled into her mouth. his tongue swiped the roof of her mouth, absorbing her squirming and pants with relish. roman’s other hand wandered down to rub tight circles at her needy clit. naturally, her walls spasmed; naturally, he reacted accordingly by spanking her with his heavy hand. it resonated within the metal confines of the car, and her own noises immediately followed suit.

“sir, please,” her voice was wrecked, as it only could be, but still, there was a dreaminess that roman found endearing as he set the pace for her—slow, but thorough. insistent, though not forceful. he only lifted her off half of his length, keeping her full at all times. roman kept his lips on her, anywhere and everywhere he could reach. his hand continued their marking endeavors, heating her ass in rhythm with his hips.

he sounded smug as he wondered, “yeah, baby? ‘please’ what?”

her breath faltered, fingers curling to undo the neatly tied bun of his mane, raking her nails through his illustrious mane. she didn’t yank. he seemed to appreciate that she only tugged with minimal pressure. he smiled against her lips, rewarding her with a steeper bounce, pulling out so only his tip remained before impaling her again and again. any time she attempted to formulate a comprehensible word, he swallowed it with a heady kiss and smack to her asscheek, which made her forget what she wanted to say in the first place.

not that she had much he could parse to begin with other than saying “please” and “sir” like they were the only two words remaining in her lexicon. even then, she wasn’t able to even manage a syllable that simple. that was how he seemed to prefer it based on the thorough thrusts of his hips against hers.

he groaned in her mouth just right when she tugged his tresses again, twice in quick succession and one longer tug. she wasn’t sure if she could explain to him if she was close with how he kept subsuming her mewls and starts of words into his groans and grunts. at this point, she wasn’t sure if she could call what they were doing really kissing so much as a mashing of tongue and teeth. she figured he could tell she was reaching the edge to her climax through the fervent way her walls pulsed around him like a butterfly struggling to escape its cocoon.

“close, aren’t you, babygirl?” he chuckled, her nods rapid and messy. she gripped his hair firmer, more demanding now that she teetered on that edge of release.

she begged, eyes welling with unshed tears from overstimulation, “p-please, sir! wanna cum!” her lungs gasped for oxygen when he delivered on her request, transitioning into thrusting more calculatedly, angling right up at the spot that had her seeing stars.

“right there, baby?” he murmured, repeating that particular thrust. her frame vibrated atop his lap as her climax washed over in unceremonious, reckless fashion. she wailed, throat ripping itself out from the weight of her scream. roman didn’t take that much more to follow after her, spilling those pearlescent ribbons deep inside her cunt with a deep roar briefly reminiscent of the ones preluding his spear. “fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he praised heavily, “sweetest fucking pussy for me.”

he continued thrusting through the aftershocks, arms firmly locked around her while she vibrated in his arms. “i got you, honey,” roman promised, kissing the side of her head while he tempered his pistoning down. he kept her on his lap, letting her tug on his hair enough to anchor her to this plane of existence. her breath fanned against his lips as she stole a kiss from him. he didn’t say much other than repeating his promise, forcing her lungs to follow his cadence until she could do it on her own.

when she did recover, she whispered, “sir,” her voice cracked at the edges from practically screaming herself hoarse.

“you did so good for me, baby. i’m so proud of you.” he punctuated his praise with a kiss to her hairline, not minding the sweat pearling there from exertion. from how he looked at her, how he sounded, she knew he meant it. she smiled, the first one she could feel from the past two days—she knew his pride went beyond her performance on his lap and extended to the two belts stacked atop one another in the backseat.

“thank you,” she responded with a shy heat to her cheeks. her hand moved away from his hair, resting on his heart while her fingers twirled some strands of his hair. roman smiled, one of the softer ones he reserved for his family, mainly. she flushed at the honor of being one of its recipients.

she gasped when he shifted just enough to start the car, accidentally shifting her hips to roll just right against his own. he groaned, sending her a raised eyebrow and barely contained mirth in his eyes. she shrugged, semi-apologetic. roman merely adjusted her positioning so they were both more comfortable as he started reversing out of the parking space and out into the vibrant vegas streets.

“you’re crazy,” she murmured, breathless as she glimpsed outside the window, allowing the oversaturated nightlife to consume her vision while he drove them both back to the hotel.

“yeah, well,” roman responded with the assurance of a champion, of being her champion, “i’m the tribal chief.” he said it like it was simple.

maybe it was to him. her thoughts, naturally, swirled around to the aftermath and to what monday would bring. New challengers, new threats, the inevitable paranoia—she wasn’t sure where she would stand as the weight of the belt grew more prominent on her shoulder, the responsibility chipping at the wide-eyed woman who only ever dreamt of carrying something as prestigious as the women's world championship. as if that wasn’t enough, her mind fabricated worst-case hypotheticals about their nebulous relationship given her feelings and how roman reciprocated, apparently. she wouldn’t be able to look at him without thinking of the mindblowing and grounding sex they had after wrestlemania. She didn’t factor that he would be there more frequently now, either. She could easily visualize the inevitable wetness growing at every instance. To make matters worse, she wasn’t sure what he wanted beyond just the celebratory sex, on the minuscule chance he would change his mind. or—worse—if he only did it out of pity.

before she could fret herself into the next century, roman cut her spiral short with a firm remark, eyes focused on the road, “don’t worry about tomorrow, baby.” at the red light, he tilted her chin towards him with a thumb and index finger. “just focus on me, alright? i got you. i promise. i’m not going anywhere.”

it suddenly struck her that he perhaps meant it beyond just trying to tether her back into her own body at this point, even if that intention still stood. her eyes peered up at his features as he returned to focusing on the road, applying gradual acceleration on the pedal as the car continued along the route. she parsed the relaxation in his posture, paired with the understated confidence that things would work out in their favor. her eyes flitted back to the two belts, resting like a perfect match, a picturesque display of harmony.

shifting just a little more, she rested her head along his heart, listening to his heartbeat while her own rammed at full throttle in anticipation of what the future brought her. starting with, naturally, the growing hardness still inside her.

taglist ⇢ @yana3sworld . @fearlesschimera . @theusotwinzcom . @acute-crashout-jeyuso . @geekinstilettos . @pr0wlerpunk . @miss-kuki-nz . @kelbrave . @romanswifey . @psilovey0u . @flyygirlmia . @lov3rla03 . @zillasvilla . @loreofsarai .

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FRIDAY NIGHT SMACKDOWN | 05.08.26