✰ USAGE RULES .ᐟ Please credit @angeliicide in the post you use my work! You may also credit me in your pinned or somewhere else visible on your blog. Please do not reupload or alter my dividers.
to celebrate her boyfriend’s wrestlemania win, your best friend drunkenly invites you to her and roman’s hotel suite to fulfill his longtime wish for a threesome. but after things take a turn for the worse during the night, no one’s relationship is ever the same.
bf’s!boyfriend!roman x black!reader x black!bestfriend!oc.
Your close friend had seemingly made it her life’s mission to pull you outside the entrapping four walls of your apartment for the first time after the break up that’s been suppressing the free-spirited girl she’s always known you to be.
Close friends since college, the two of you have lived many lives together. Many of which begin when the sun goes down because, as if you two are nocturnal, you come alive at night— bar hopping in New York, hookah lounges in Toronto, girls night out in San Antonio. Pictures of you two during your escapades are sprinkled throughout both of your social media accounts dating back several years prior, accounts that blew up following the success of both of your social media influencer careers.
Those escapades came to a gradual halt when you met your ex. It was a relationship that sucked you dry and turned you into a shell of the person you used to be, and the people around you recognized it before you did despite how frail you felt because of the depleted nutrients. Nasir was the type of man who looks like the sun until the door closes and takes the light with it..
It started off subtle and passive. Then verbal. Until you had to start wearing Miu Miu shades in the most casual of settings. You told yourself his last transgression was the final. And it was, because you left him a month ago.
Since Eden had a front row seat to all the shit he put you through, that alone called for celebration. The fact that tonight is also Wrestlemania is just the cherry on top.
Drinks in hand, the two of you sat ringside as you watched the matches leading up to the the main event. You weren’t really familiar with the sport and since she’s been to a few of these throughout the extent of her relationship with her wrestler boyfriend, you found yourself muttering questions to her every now and then. As many as she’s been to and as often as you tend to accompany one another to entertainment events like this, this was your first one ever. Any invitation you’d be sent by her to attend regularly scheduled programs like RAW, you’d reject.
Simply because Roman has never made you feel particularly welcome.
His demeanor with you is notoriously cold, with conversations short and clipped like you’re the most uninteresting gnat in the room. There’s something innately menacing about him, whether it be his build or his quiet and brooding disposition, or both, that just adds insult to injury. That makes you feel like a nuisance whenever you’re in his presence.
Eventually, you made peace with it. After all, many men aren’t fans of their girlfriend’s homegirls and you’re sure you’ve done something to rub him the wrong way somewhere along the line.
In reality, you aren’t aware of just how much he really dislikes you. How he’ll stare a while longer when she's wearing a shade of lipstick that reminds him of your signature one. How much, despite your knowledge, his guilty conscious compels him to talk down on you to Eden in your absence, as if she knows the truth in her heart and doing so is the head-start he needs to convince her otherwise. How many nights the thought of you behind his lids were the only reason he was able to reach an eye-rolling orgasm inside of his girlfriend.
If fate worked in his favor that day in Miami, it would’ve been you instead of Eden.
He had his sights set on you since you first climbed onto the yacht hosting Zilla’s small get together; the orange bikini you were spilling out of, your black curls wrapped under a silk head wrap and freely cascading past your shoulders striking enough to pull him out the conversation he was having— but you weren’t alone. You were there with a man he would later assume to be your boyfriend, a close friend of Zilla’s.
He was staring at you long enough to pick up the subtle but tense interactions between you and him throughout the day: the way he jerked at your upper arm during your secluded conversation in the cabin that Roman could slightly see through the window from where he was seated, the way your face would light up when someone would address you after you returned only for it to quickly drop once everyone looked away as if it were never real, the way this all coincidently began after you started socializing with everyone— with the men.
The way you seemed to sink into a cocoon of your own afterwards.
Nasir never liked it when you were too social for his liking with other men. He always felt like you needed to be seen and not heard, and sometimes even the former was pushing it.
When Eden, who he thought was just another friend of Zilla’s, approached him, he entertained her even though his eyes kept wandering past her shoulders. She was interesting enough to hold a conversation. Held a couple degrees. A real stunner. Thick where it mattered. Brown like he likes. It wasn’t until a quick surf through the Instagram account she gave him when he got home revealed that she and you were not only friends, but extremely tight if the frequency that you appeared on her feed had anything to say about it. Courtside at the Cavaliers, oversea trips to Jamaica, dinners at Nobu.
He’d never admit it if he were ever confronted, but it’s why he decided to pursue her further. Something about you had captivated him and it was the only way for him to keep you in his orbit. He had to see you again.
Initially, the friendship between you and her was his saving grace. It was the tie that bound you to him. Yet, by the time general observation made it crystal clear that you were too loyal to mess around with someone your friend had already expressed interest in, he’d already found himself in a situationship with Eden. That realization about you and the one that he was starting to develop feelings for Eden, albeit far less strong than the ones he had to pretend like he didn’t have about you, morphed their situationship into a serious relationship.
He wanted to give him and Eden a chance.
If that meant suppressing his feelings and icing you out to keep his distance, then so be it— and it has. For two years.
The crowd makes some noise as you and Eden smile, wave, and blow a kiss at the camera that broadcasts your faces on the celebrity guest Jumbotron with a centered textbox that reads: Eden Westbrook & Tatiana Montgomery.
When it’s time for the main event, you watch the way he manhandles grown men in the ring like they’re his kids and he’s bringing them to work with him. The loud thud of the ring mat and the cheer of the crowd bookends every brutal move between he and the name of whoever it on the receiving end of the ass whooping he’s handing out.
His wet hair drapes around the sharp lines of his nose and jaw, the exertion of sheer force glazing his tan body in a layer of sweat. And when he retains his title after the three count, he slowly raises the belt into the air above his head, smirking as the announcer enunciates the phrase ‘and still.’
The victory lap is easy, relaxed. As thundering pyro erupts into the sky and past the roofless stadium, he climbs on top of the middle rope turnbuckle to bask in the glory of adoration before he pauses when your presence catches his attention. You assume he’s looking at Eden and grin at her side profile as you clap alongside the fans.
The threesome was her idea.
Once the liquor starts invading her system, Eden has a track record that precedes her— she is easily the wildest girl you’ve ever met. She outpaces you by a large gap, which was one of the things most appealing about her when you two first met. She always brings a sense of fiery spontaneity to what can be a very mundane life. So once you’re all in the section of French .95 to celebrate the win and she’s had enough 1942 Don Julio to override her good judgement, she’s dropping the inquisitive bomb onto your lap.
It isn’t something he’s ever asked her for, but it’s something she knows he’s always wanted. And if she’s honest, once she gets past a particular level of tipsy, she starts feeling really sweet and generous; generosity that stems from a pool of love the shade of magenta pink. Because she loves him and she’s proud of him. Proud of the way he’s managed to overcome the years and years of adversity in the company and came out on the other side as supreme as he is. Tonight is living proof.
Giggly and tipsy yourself, you slither behind her as she drags you over to him in the ill-lit nightclub and file this under just another one of you and her’s unruly escapades despite the fact that you’ve never done anything like this before. Thinking about nothing past the present.
Twin bitches. Twin bitches. Twin bitches hoppin off a jetskiiiiiiiiiiiii.
Roman, just as intoxicated, bends his neck down so Eden’s mouth meets his ear as Travis Scott’s ‘Topia Twins’ blares through the crowded building.
The tone of her ‘let’s get outta here’ is suggestive, but even more so considering the fact that you two are hand in hand and you're looking up at him with those watery doe eyes of yours. He’s almost positive he’s picking up what she’s putting down, but to confirm his hunch, he cautiously glances once more at his girlfriend and she responds to it with a wordless, coy smile.
The fluorescent halls of The Bellagio are a blur as you three walk to the door of their suite, you and her in a fit of nonsensical laughter at a joke cracked on the drive over fifteen minutes ago. The beeping of the key card precedes the swing of the door open before you blindly usher in and drop all your belongings onto the room’s wooden coffee table.
A flick of one switch out of many reveals a spacious and sleek suite before engulfing the room in dim but warm light. The floor to ceiling windows provide an omniscient view of the concrete jungle of downtown Houston’s horizon as building lights illuminate the city in vertical constellations in the dark backdrop of the night.
Everyone is in the middle of peeling off of their outermost layers and throwing them onto a heap on the bedroom carpet when a small gasp is sucked out of Eden’s lungs. She glares at the phone in her hand, “shit. It’s the Uber driver. He’s said he’s circling back. I left my I.D in his car.” She snatches her skirt off the ground and quickly squeezes back into it, “okay. Um. Get comfortable, I’ll be back in ten.”
You pause slipping the spaghetti straps off your shoulder and look between her and Roman.
“—We can wait.”
“—Lemme go get it.”
She slips into her sandals and picks up the key card as she rushes towards the door, “it’s just ten minutes, get comfortable. Just… no kissing and don’t get started started without me.”
When she slips out the door, you turn back around and suddenly feel trapped in the lions den once you spot him seated on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. At the same time, realization sinks in; tonight marks the first time you’ll be intimate with a man other than Nasir in years. A milestone that’ll belong to Roman of all people very soon.
Lowly, “c’mere.”
You hesitate, glancing behind your shoulder at the door Eden left out before looking back at him.
He smirks like he can read your mind, “you scared?”
“We can… wait.”
“You gon stare at me for ten minutes?”
You blink at the prospect and roll your lips into your mouth. That is silly. She did encourage you to get comfortable before she left. Break the ice, perhaps. Once you muster up the courage, you slip out of your cheetah print kitten heels and prowl towards him, taking the hand he holds out for you when you’re close enough and patting on his lap with his other hand as a cue for you to straddle.
When you once again pause to look at the door as if this a boundary you aren’t meant to cross, Roman lightly tugs on your hand to gravitate your eyes back to his. “We’re just following her instructions.”
You nod, exhaling a nervous breath and climbing onto his lap on the foot of the mattress. In the blink of an eye, he slinks his hand between your bodies to grip the hemline of his tee and pull it off his torso. It’s in that moment that you take a minute to, for the first time ever, mull over how strikingly handsome he is. You’ve never looked at him in that light before, but it’s undeniable in this moment as he slips his hands underneath your dress and runs them along the warm skin of your outer thighs.
“Why’re you so tense?”
“Huh?”
“You’re tense, Tati. As fuck.”
“Oh uh. Sorry.”
His hands sneaks past your thighs as the supple of your ass spills past the gaps of his spread fingers, each knead drenching the gusset of your thong in the arousal from your radiating core until your hips start slowly following the motion over his growing bulge.
As under the influence as he may be, he has an inkling that doing this with you out of all people isn’t the greatest idea in the world. He knows how he feels, and how long he’s felt that way. But selfishly, he’s always wanted to know what you were like. What you feel like. What you taste like.
Nasir never deserved you. Never. He’s half a man. Roman doesn’t know the full extent of the abuse, Eden would always keep the harrowing details to herself, but from what he has heard and seen himself, he knows you’re just something that happened to fall into the lap of a hungry wolf feeding off the light in your eyes. Hell, a couple of times he and Nasir got into small scuffles over unrelated matters far less trivial that showed your ex’s a bitch that cowers under the weight of men his own size. It’d get real sticky if Roman ever found out what he was doing to you behind the privacy of closed doors.
Eyes closed at the warmth traveling from your core and spreading throughout your body at the sensation of his erection pressing perfectly against your clit, you’re taken by surprise when you feel his mouth at your throat right under your ear. He sucks little red marks onto the sensitive skin until you’re whimpering and then pulls the fabric of your dress down so the supple swells of your chest spill out for his eyes to eat.
His name is a whisper that melts into a sensual moan as he takes one into his mouth and gropes the other one. His free hand at your ass pulls your thong into a fist, tightening the pressure of the fabric against your clit. You feel him everywhere and your pussy’s making a mess.
When Eden returns, positions are assumed. He lies down on his back with her sat on his face, your warm tongue lathering his dick up from tip to base before slowly taking him to the back of throat.
He’s big. You aren't above admitting you salivated a little when he finally stripped down for you see bare. Veiny. Thick. Big enough to guarantee a hell of a great night. Gripping his base, you suction your cheeks around him as you bob until he’s groaning into Eden. And when you finally let up and revert to running your tongue on the underside of his throbbing length as you knead his balls, he suddenly requests a switch of position.
Eden straddles and slowly slides him inside her, her hands on his lower abdomen as she rides his dick. A few inches north, you’re straddling his chest with your body faced towards her.
You bite your bottom lip as he licks and kisses, taking your swollen pearl into his mouth and applying gentle pressures with the tip of his tongue. He pulls your hips back onto his face when the intensity changes and you try to inch away from the pleasure, followed by a sharp smack against your ass. You mewl and coo as he eats you out within an inch of your life, your wet pussy drooling all over his mouth and beard.
Once he makes you and Eden come at the same time, she unmounts him and lies on the bed to catch her breath— only crawling over to the edge of the bed when he stands between your legs as he sheaths himself in a condom.
One of his hands pushes one of your legs to your chest, and one of hers pushing your other reminds you of her presence. You close your eyes and lie your head onto the bed as he slaps his dick against your pulsating clit, sparing Eden one last glance before he’s pushing at your entrance.
He stares at your parted mouth with a similar expression as he stretches your tight pussy out, a few experimental thrusts of his hips warming you up. It takes a little while for you to get accustom to him, but when you do, you’re gasping and inching away from the overwhelming sparks of pleasure running through you.
He tightens his grip on the legs pushed against your chest and tugs you closer to the edge of the bed to keep you still, his thrusts making your pussy drool all over his cock despite the resistant hand that flies up to his abdomen, “that feels so good, doesn’t it? Talk to me.”
“Yes. S…so good. Oh.”
You look so pretty. You always do, but especially right now. He has half a mind to stop and take the rubber off just to make it that much better for you but as much as he’s loosing sight of the fact that his girlfriend is still present, he’s still has a light grip on reality.
You’re creaming on him. All over him. You can’t help it. Each thrust of his big dick inside you presses so deliciously against your tight walls, you can’t help it. You cry out for him and you don’t know why, “Roman.”
It becomes biological. Primal. Prey and predator.
The only sounds audible in the suite are the wet squelch of sodden skin, his grunts, and your desperate cries as he nails you to the mattress. Your arousal drips past your pussy and flows down your ass, staining the duvet underneath.
Eden, growing slightly uneasy at something she can’t put a name on just yet, pipes up, “okay wait baby, slow down.”
Her hand moves from the back of your leg to his forearm, but you interpret that as a simple cue for him to take it easy on you and that’s the last thing you want so you shake your head and shakily speak, “n-no. It’s okay.”
His voice is low and provocative as he looks down at you through hooded eyes, “don’t want me to stop hm? Wanna come all over daddy’s big dick don’t you? Say it.”
He tugs on your hand and places his mouth over three fingers, slowly sucking on them for lubrication before placing them at your clit. You get the message and start rubbing yourself in tight circles as he stuffs you full and whine, “please don’t stop. It feels so good.”
He fucks you like that for a long while. For so long, until your eyes are rolling back and you’re squirting in light spurts with every press of his hips, your head thrown back.
You go to turn your head to check in with your friend after the minute of reprieve he gives you, but he’s slowly pressing his big cock deep inside your creamy pussy again and it renders your effort useless. You moan and grope at your supple breasts, whining when his dick catches and massages your little sweet spot. “Oh.”
“There she is. This is my pussy now.”
Neither of you two register the implication of the words he just let slip, you’re too aroused to. He’s fucking you too good to. You just mewl and take the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through your veins.
Eden, on the other hand, registers it perfectly— and it’s sobering. Her brows lightly tipped inward, she blinks twice before looking between the two of you and slightly sitting up.
His mouth at your ankle, he grunts as your creamy pussy winds tighter and tighter around his dick in no time. He presses into you slowly. Passionately. Until he’s not thrusting at all, just pasting his hips against yours and grinding it in an up-and-down motion.
You don’t know what to do with yourself. Your fingers grip at the sheets and look up him with a pained expression, speechless despite your dropped jaw.
He nods with exaggerated, mock compassion as the bedsprings creak. “I know. I k-know. Fuck. Give it to me. You’re right there.”
He’s so big. Everywhere. His arms. His thighs. His chest. His dick. He’s all consuming. Engulfing. Despite it, you recognize how tender he’s become with the way he’s fucking you. It’s intimate in a way it probably shouldn’t, but it feels too good and you’re way too close to intervene.
When you can’t take it anymore, you slightly nod your head to silently communicate to him that you’re coming as you wrap your legs at his back and pull his cock deeper into your wet pussy. Your head cranes back into the bed, your back forming an arch as an intense, slow, long orgasm rips through you.
In between your sweet cries of ecstasy, he leans forward onto you, his gyrating hips stimulating your clit as his fat cock presses at your g-spot— elongating it further. “Mhmm. Taking all that dick. M’so proud of you. Fuck, love this tight little pussy.”
Eden gets up, “actually, stop.”
Roman keeps working you through your orgasm, his eyes following her off the bed. Trance broken, “what?”
“I changed my mind cause… no. Just stop.”
Floating down from your high, you look up at her from underneath him. Airy, “huh…?”
He slowly slips out of you when he registers her serious expression, his balls pulsating and nerves still on edge from his missed orgasm.
She looks at you, her tone clipped. “Get up. Get dressed and go to your suite.”
Roman’s brow’s furrow, “Eden.”
“I said get up.”
You rise off the bed and blink, slinking your undergarments back on as they do too. Her agitation feels like a cool bucket of water to the face. It’s sobering. Clearly, she’s upset. You can’t pinpoint at exactly what because your mind is too muddled from the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but the bottom line is that your friend is upset and you had a hand in it. That’s not a good feeling.
Roman pulls his boxers up to his waist and watches you slip your dress back on. He looks at Eden, “baby, relax. Why’re you acting like that?”
She didn’t like that at all. If she’s honest, you two looked too acquainted. It looked too natural. She could feel the chemistry and it made her feel like an outsider. The shit he was saying was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. Absolutely fucking not. But she’s too aggravated to communicate that at the moment so she spits out the unpacked version of the truth, “I changed my mind. I’m not comfortable with it anymore. I want her out.”
Upset with the way she’s going about it, he goes to argue with her, but you know her. There’s no conflict resolution with her when she’s in the heat of the moment, so you roll the spaghetti straps of your dress up your arms and decide it’d be better to give her the night to cool down and discuss what happened tomorrow. You slide into your kitten heels as she crosses her arms at her chest, “it’s okay. I’ll go, it’s no issue. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you in the morning, E.”
As soon as the door closes behind you, she starts to tear up.
Roman, as lost as ever, gets closer. “Eden…?”
“That’s my pussy? I love this pussy? What the hell is the matter with you Roman?”
He blinks when the realization that that’s what must’ve upset her dawns on him. He just got so enthralled in you that he stopped trying to control his mouth, “baby. That’s just sex talk.”
It could just be sex talk, but that paired with what she saw? What she felt? It’s not just anything and she can’t be convinced otherwise. Her nose flares, “have you two fucked before?”
His heart starts racing, “are you serious?”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“No. We’ve never fucked before. I’ve never cheated on you, Eden. What the fuck?”
She stares at him for a second before snatching the remainder of her clothes off the floor, her voice cracking. “I’m going to the other bedroom. Don’t follow me.”
He watches her leave and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, sighing. A hand runs through his hair.
He’s never seen her this upset before. Shit, maybe he did take it too far. He just couldn’t help himself. It’s you. Who knows if he’ll ever get the opportunity to have you like that? He couldn’t pass it up. He’d regret it for the rest of his life if he did. He loves Eden, and despite the fact that your existence make it difficult to be in love with her, he cares about her deeply. You’ve just plagued him his head and his heart for so long.
Now that he’s had a taste of you, he’s more conflicted than he’s ever been.
.
Your head is throbbing.
That’s the first thing you notice when you peel your eyes open in your Bellagio suite.
Light spills in through the gaps of the lace curtains and bathes you in its warmth as you groan and stretch underneath the duvet, which leads you to your next discovery. Your thighs, too, are sore.
The reminder catapults you into last night and sinks your stomach. You and Eden have never really been at odds in the past. So naturally, her being upset with you is unsettling. In hindsight, last night going left was inevitable. You don’t know what any of you were thinking. You, as her friend, should’ve never been in the mix. Also, there wasn’t enough clear communication about boundaries. Whatever it was that pissed her off, you’re sure it could’ve been avoided if that conversation was had.
Still, that doesn’t make you feel any less horrible about any of it.
And Roman.
Fuck.
You’d be lying if you said you’re not looking at him in a different light. It’s impossible to see the neat version of a piece of paper after it’s been crumpled. Especially since he’s the first man you’ve slept with since Nasir, which is just another reason why it was a terrible idea. You’re still too vulnerable. It wasn’t smart.
You sigh and blindly pat around the bed for your phone, bringing it to your face and unlocking it. 10:11 A.M. She’s usually up at this time. You roll your lips into your mouth and open you and Eden’s conversation on iMessage, typing, deleting, and retyping the perfect message on a loop before you eventually land on the right one.
to EDEN. 🍸
still @ the bellagio. let’s talk before you fly back to L.A tonight please. love you always.
Except when you send it, your usual blue message turns green.
Sent as SMS.
You blink twice and sit up, a fold between your brows. You call her number and you get sent straight to voicemail. You exit out of your messages, go to Instagram, and type in her username.
Bonnie Bennett x Klaus Mikaelson (season 3 rewrite longfic)
Rating : Explicit
Summary : Bonnie Bennett is done with the supernatural world. They can kiss her ass. She wants nothing more than to focus on college and her life outside of it. Yet, keeps finding herself trapped when she’s most needed. Being the only in history to come close to killing Klaus Mikaelson, leaves him desperate to have that power at his side OR kill one of the only known and living sources that can weaken him. With Klaus unable to leave Bonnie alone—and outside problems that never allows her a breath of air—forces her to question not only the company she keeps around; her morals which makes her who she is, her friends who keeps her grounded, her undying loyalty which never falters, her power that keeps her reassured, but this twisted feeling in her heart that desires something more. Someone more.
Warnings : strong language, graphic violence & gore, eventual explicit sexual content, strong prejudice, sacrifices, toxic & dysfunctional relationships, emotional & parental abuse, past child negligence, death, grief, references to depression, substance abuse, mentions of cults & massacres, magic heavily rooted in racial history & the burden of it + more overall mature subjects not suited for younger audiences (may add more while writing) if you are not comfortable with depictions of certain topics and characters then you’re free not to read. Otherwise, read at your own discretion <3
Tags : enemies to lovers, slow burn, college-setting, season 3 rewrite, toxic relationships, angst, more explored & added lore of Bonnie + other canon characters, more Black and of color characters who doesn’t die early on, Bonnie isn’t alone, Bonnie will put herself first, hate sex, Bisexual Bonnie, Bonnie attends the Mikaelson ball, Rebekah and Bonnie friendship, Kol possibly interested in Bonnie? (Let’s say she attracts evil), hurt and comfort, magic rooted in racial history + MORE TO DISCOVER WHILE READING
Disclaimer : this is somewhat too long to fit here because it would take up to much space, so I posted a very short but IMPORTANT disclaimers separately to read before reading. HERE
Update Schedule : slow. In no rush. Having fun. Whenever I feel like the chapter is done and perfected up to my standard. I care too much about the quality of my work to halfass or rush it + Bonnie deserves a good story the writers refused to give. Rushing me won’t benefit anyone, but I don’t mind update status asks.
Where else to read : Ao3
(some ideas and small tweaks within this longfic was inspired by @cancerian-woman tvd opinions and rants, so credit rightfully goes to them)
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
< only posting 1st 5 chapters here so far, then you’ll have to read the rest through ao3. I’ll still post chapter updates here. If you’d like to be tagged for both, lmk! And lmk whenever you wanna be untagged >
