WWE SHIELD Fan Girl

I love WWE and The SHIELD!!!! The SHIELD is my favorite WWE Trio ever!!!!! And I miss Dean Ambrose!!!! #ThankYouShield #ThankYouDean

[wwesarahjaneroszko]

Happy 32nd Birthday to AEW’s Aerial Assassin and the Ace of AEW who is currently in AEW’s Men’s Owen Hart Cup Tournament Finals: Will Ospreay!!!! Happy Birthday Will!

[amberbeach]

'INTERRUPTED DATE'

gif belongs to me

You giggled when he wildly gestured for you to pose for a photograph and you smiled as you stood on the rock, holding your arms out. Tommy smiled, capturing the moment from your hike, taking the polaroid from the camera. "Got it."

You jumped down from the rock, quickly taking the camera and running higher up the hill. Tommy chuckled as he chased after you, wrapping his arms around you when he saw you admiring the view.

You placed your arm around his waist, holding the camera high, smiling when you felt his lips on your cheek before it clicked.

You looked at the polaroid as it formed, smiling at him. "This has been the best date ever."

"I know what you mean. I don't want it to end."

You were leaning in to kiss when you heard noises, finding a group of putties approaching.

"Y/N, get out of here." Tommy kept you behind him and you shook your head.

"I'm not leaving you." You gasped when he kicked a putty down, punching another in the chest.

"Run!"

You ducked when a putty tried to grab you, running further up the hill, pausing when you saw more putties. "Oh no."

You turned to find Tommy, donning a white suit as he fought off the putties. Your eyes widened, a gasp leaving your lips when you were grabbed by two putties, more surrounding you. Kicking one putty in the chest, you pushed yourself back and the two putties holding you fell with you and you quickly ran off, turning when Tommy did a front flip over your head, landing gracefully before rushing towards the group of putties.

You were frozen in a mix of awe and bewilderment. Tommy was the White Ranger. The White Ranger you had seen on the news fighting aliens.

You became so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't notice Tommy unmorphed and was approaching you until he put a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N? Are you okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

You shook your head, "N-No, I'm fine."

"Come on, let's go to Ernie's." He placed his arm around your shoulder and as you walked, Tommy waited for you to speak, for he was sure you had many questions. And when you didn't he began to ramble, about how no one was supposed to know he was the White Ranger, before telling you about Rita and Zordon.

As you approached Ernie's you suddenly felt afraid. Of what you weren't sure yet. But you knew that you couldn't go with him.

"I-I think I'm gonna go home." You told him.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked.

You shook your head, "You're a Power Ranger. You fight aliens and protect the world, but still, go to school and teach kids karate."

Tommy tilted his head to the side, unsure of where this conversation was headed. But he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

You took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. "My heart tells me to kiss you, my mind says walk away."

He frowned, realizing what was happening. You were breaking up with him. "Y/N..."

"I love you, Tommy. But right now I need to listen to my mind instead of my heart." He opened his mouth to speak, pausing when you kissed his cheek, unable to utter a word as you walked away.

[junglehooks]

~ kenny omega | aew all access | episode five ~

[angelltheninth]

Those Who Meet in the Shadows

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, hate sex, rough sex, degradation, secret relationship, name calling-pussy slapping, dub-con, implied voyeurism

Word count: 0.7k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Just Jason Todd being an asshole. I like that version of him.

Jason smirked at you, his armor leaving indents on your thighs as they were spread out for him. "Wipe that smirk of you face already, its disturbing." You push your hand against him, of which he bites the fingers off one by one as the table under you shakes from the force of his deep, hard thrusts. "Fuck! Are you trying to break the table?"

"No, just you." He pushes closer, his hands on your hips, encouraging you to roll your hips with him. You try not to, you try not to give him the satisfaction of it, but can't resist him, "What would Bruce say if he knew his new friend was spreading her legs for me? Bet he'd be really angry with you. Yeah, I'm thinking... a little spanking for the naughty girl."

"Bruce wouldn't- ah, fuck, oh!" You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your cowl fully slipping, your face revealed, eyes widening. "D-Don't look at me you motherfucker, this is just-" He slapped your pussy again before pressing his fingers against your clit.

Your hips rose from the table to meet his thrusts, the echoing sounds filling the storage house. The weapons you used lay aside, the condom wrapper glistening in the dim light. At least he remembered that not wanting a repeat of you denying him like last time.

Last time. "We should stop doing this Jason. It' wrong." You were a hero, and him... something much darker, not a villain not yet but he was so close to that title.

"Yeah its real fucked up how easy you are. Letting me fuck you, coming all the time, screaming my name. But you have been distracting me more then usual. Maybe you should let every villain in this city fuck you, see if you can set them on the correct path. Then again, I am a very possessive man, I would kill any guy who wants this sweet hole. Its mine." Jason took your hands in one of his and pinned them down, "Keep them there, don't you dare move."

For some reason you listened. It was so shameful to obey him but had Jason's big, hard cock pumping in and out, making your body react.

"She obeys!" Jason boasted laugning.

"Fuck you." You still had the strength to flip him the bird.

"Aw that's adorable, is that the finger you use when you think of me?" You did. More then one finger because one wasn't nearly enough. "Bet you love having the real thing huh? Finally a man who knows what to do with a whore cunt like yours." He curled his finger over your clit, sending your back arching. "You think he's listening right now?"

No, the comms were off, you made sure of that. "N-No. He can't be."

"Then why is your pussy trembling so much? You want him to hear? Didn't know you let cockhungry sluts in your ranks these days Bruce. Must be real desperate. Poor little thing probably didn't even know how much of a slut she was." He spoke with an almost maniacal edge to his voice, his cock twitching inside you.

"S-Stop it. Its not true." You whimpered, getting all teary eyed.

"Yes. It. Is." He accompanied every word with a slap on your pussy, each sting making your head spin until a high pitched moan left your mouth, "Hear that Bruce?! That's your partner being my little whore!"

"I- I hate you." You managed to still bite back but your body didn't agree with your actions, and honestly you weren't sure your heart did either but that was easier to ignore when you were being pounded by Jason's cock. "I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!" Jason was only spurred on by your words, fucking every inch of his fat cock into you until he felt your walls tighten. Despite your best efforts not to your body reacted to his, stars dancing behind your eyes, head spinning, only able to feel his cock still working between your legs and his fingers on your clit. "St-ah-op."

"But babygirl," Jason pulled out and took the condom off, letting the cum gather on the floor, "We still have the whole box of these to go through."

[weevil-wallflower]

What kind of meditation is this?

Cal Kestis x f!Reader

Summary: Cal proposes a new way to meditate together.

Warnings/Tags: NSFW 18+, f!reader, use of Y/N (sorry, just trying out different ways to write :3), unprotected sex, dom!Cal, during/post-Jedi: Survivor, no spoilers for Jedi: Survivor.

A.N.: Yet another story for our lovable space ginger ^_^ Gif by me!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: ~4,200

Y/N was lying down on the bed she shared with Cal in the room below Greez's cantina when said man walked in. The red-haired Jedi had a particular glint in his green eyes, the one he gets when he's about to persuade her to do something she might disagree with.

Cal smiled gently at her, his eyes maintaining their distinct expression. "Hey, Y/N," he said softly, taking a seat beside her on the bed. “I was wondering if you’d like to try something with me.”

“Sure… What’s on your mind?” She asked, setting her book down and focusing intently on him.

“Meditation,” the redhead replied, intertwining his fingers with hers. “It’ll help us both clear our minds and… just be in the moment.” Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “What do you say?”

“Oh…” Her smile was tinged with nervousness as she gently squeezed his calloused hand. “You know that’s more your specialty… I’ve never been good at all the concentration stuff… despite being a Jedi myself…” Y/N’s voice trailed off, a sense of shame creeping in as she acknowledged her perceived shortcomings in comparison to him, feeling like she was not good enough as a Jedi.

“I understand. But I believe you’ll exceed your own expectations. Trust me,” he reassured, sensing her embarrassment. Leaning in, he placed a tender kiss on her lips before moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, his actions conveying both encouragement and support.

Cal waited patiently for Y/N to join him, her soft hand sliding into his as he guided her to sit in front of him. “Okay,” he began softly, closing his eyes. “Just focus on your breathing. In… and out…”

The young woman copied his pose, settling into a seated position directly across from him with her legs crossed and closing her eyes, just as he had done. She maintained a straight posture, her hands resting calmly on her knees.

Cal could feel Y/N’s presence, her energy mingling with his own. He continued to guide her through the breathing, deepening his own breaths to match hers. “Good,” he whispered encouragingly after a few moments. “Now just let your mind wander…”

Not long after they started their meditation, they were suddenly disrupted by the sound of banging, followed by Greez’s loud yelling, something regarding his stove.

“Greez must be having a busy day…” Y/N giggled softly, opening her eyes. The cantina was pretty packed since morning which must be why they were hearing all that commotion from the floor above.

Cal chuckled as well, squeezing Y/N’s hand comfortingly. “Yes, I think Greez has his hands full today.” He opened his eyes, returning his attention to her. “But maybe we could try again later? When there’s less noise around.”

She nodded, relieved to have gotten out of that awkward situation all the while admiring Cal’s expressive green eyes. But then she noticed those eyes widening with a spark of inspiration. She knew that expression all too well; It meant the redhead just had an idea he could not wait to share.

A mischievous smile crossed Cal’s face as he leaned in closer to Y/N. “Or,” he began, his voice a whispered conspiracy, “we could go somewhere else. Somewhere quiet, where it’s just us and nature.”

“Cal…” Her smile wavered, not wanting to sit still and engage in something she was not good at.

The redhead’s brow furrowed slightly at the hesitation in Y/N’s voice. “What’s wrong?” He asked, concern etched on his face. “Do you not want to go somewhere quiet?”

“I…” The disappointment reflected in his expression stopped her. She always found herself unable to deny him anything whenever he looked at her like that.

“I do… It’s just… You know meditation isn’t my strong suit…”

Cal’s smile returned, offering reassurance. “I understand, and it’s perfectly fine. We can explore something else, something you enjoy. Or maybe try a new approach to meditation altogether. I’m here with you, Y/N; I won’t ever leave you behind.”

“Why do you seem so adamant to teach me…?” She asked, her smile returning.

Growing up, Y/N had no formal Jedi training unlike Cal, which meant she lacked certain skills and knowledge. However, it seemed that her boyfriend had taken it upon himself to provide her with everything she might need.

“Because I love you, Y/N,” Cal replied simply, his voice softening. “I want to share my experiences and knowledge with you, especially when it comes to the Force. You’re just as much a Jedi as I am, and I believe in you. I want to guide you and support you in every way I can.”

His words carried a depth of sincerity, a testament to his unwavering love and acceptance of her as his equal. Taking her hand in his, he gave it a reassuring squeeze, his eyes reflecting the depth of his devotion to her.

“And besides,” he added with a playful smirk, “We make quite the team, don’t you think? And together, we’ll only grow stronger, not just as Jedi, but as partners.”

“Well… when say it like that, how could I say no?” Y/N replied with a smile, her emotions stirring at his earnest words and her heart warmed by his affection. Leaning over, she gently kissed his jaw, relishing the sensation of his short beard against her soft lips

“So, what place do you have in mind?”

Cal thought for a moment before suggesting, “How about the Basalt Forest? It’s a beautiful place, just on the outskirts of our current location. The water there is crystal clear and shallow, perfect for a relaxing evening.”

“Hmm, that sounds good. And if we’re going to get wet, we should take a change of clothes, just in case.”

“A change of clothes is always a good idea,” Cal nodded in agreement. “We don’t want to be stuck without anything dry if we do end up getting wet.”

“Alright, let’s do it!”

As they reached the waterfall, Cal guided Y/N to a flat, rocky area just at the base of the waterfall. The water there was shallow and warm, perfect for relaxing. “This should be good,” he said, sitting down dipping his feet into the water.

Both of them had removed their shoes and were in light clothing, the rest of their belongings placed on a dry patch of grass.

Cal sat cross-legged on the warm rocks, his hands resting in his laps. “Y/N, why don’t you try sitting like this? Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Let the sounds of nature wash over you.”

She nodded and sat down facing him, folded her legs into a cross-legged position and straightened her back.

As Y/N sat down, Cal noticed how gracefully she managed to mimic his position. He smiled softly at her and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The sound of the waterfall was soothing, and he could feel the warmth of the evening sun on his skin.

She also closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. The water felt soothing against her feet and legs as they rested in the shallow depths, and the mist from the waterfall was refreshing. However, after just a few minutes, Y/N began to fidget. She had no idea how Cal could meditate, remaining in one position for hours on end.

Cal could sense Y/N’s restlessness, but he did not let it bother him. “Just try to focus on your breathing,” he whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

“I am, Cal…” she replied, mildly surprised he sensed her even with his eyes closed. She even opened one eye to peek, just to confirm that his eyes were closed. And they were, his expression calm and concentrated.

The redhead could feel the gentle vibrations of Y/N’s voice against his skin. He continued to breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of the waterfall mist and fresh vegetation. The water lapped at his feet, sending tiny waves through his calves.

Meanwhile, the young woman was beginning to feel more and more restless, prompting Cal to teasingly ask, “So, how’s the meditation going for you? Are you even trying to concentrate?” He opened his eyes, the green orbs gleaming with playful amusement as he watched his girlfriend squirm.

“Cal, you know I can’t sit still for so long… I don’t know how you do it,” she pouted, practically whining.

The redhead chuckled softly, his warm breath tickling her ear. “It’s a skill like any other, my love. You just have to practice.” He reached out and gently tugged on a lock of her hair, causing her to giggle despite herself.

“Maybe I could help you practice,” Cal proposed, his voice low and seductive. With a mischievous grin, he reached out and took hold of Y/N’s waist, pulling her gently towards him.

She gasped as he maneuvered her to straddle him, pulling her onto his lap without warning. Their bodies pressed flush against each other’s, catching her by surprise.

The redhead grinned in response as his muscled arms wrapped tighter around Y/N’s waist, drawing her even closer. “This should help,” he murmured into her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine as She gently placed her hands on his shoulders. She blushed heavily when she felt his arousal gradually building beneath their damp clothes, which clung to their bodies.

Cal could feel Y/N’s soft grip on his shoulders and he knew she felt the stirrings in his pants as he grew harder, throbbing against her. He held onto her hips. “Y/N…” He whispered hoarsely, feeling her heat through their soaked clothing as his throbbing cock pushed against her.

“Cal…” Y/N whispered in response, confused at her boyfriend’s actions.

Cal did not give her time to protest as he reached down, pulling their wet pants down together, exposing them below the waist. His thick shaft sprang free, already leaking pre-cum in anticipation of what was to come.

Y/N glanced down at his member—a welcome sight but only in the comfort of their quarters. Out in the open, it only made her panic. “W-What if someone catches us?!” She frantically asked.

Cal chuckled softly, his hands sliding up her back to cup her breasts through her wet shirt. “I’ll sense if anyone comes near,” he assured her, leaning in to capture one of her nipples between his teeth, teasing it gently through the fabric clinging to her. The sudden sensation caused Y/N to let out a soft moan, arching in his lap and unconsciously pushing her panty clad folds against his cock.

With a rough growl, Cal tore her panties off, tossing the ruined fabric aside carelessly. He was unable to resist the temptation any longer and wrapped her arms around her waist again. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her addictive scent and nibbling at her flesh.

Y/N, however, was quick to voice her displeasure at his brazen actions. “H-Hey…! I liked that underwear!” She yelled, sounding breathless despite her protests.

The redhead laughed, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” He slid his hands down her body, cupping her soft, bare butt and squeezing gently. “But right now, I want you so bad.”

Y/N could only whimper in response as her now bare folds grinded against his throbbing member.

Now with no barrier between them, Cal was unable to resist any longer. He lifted her up slightly, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance before thrusting into her with a growl. Y/N’s body jerked against his as he filled her completely, their combined wetness making for a slick and smooth entry.

The young woman felt so impossibly full, just sitting their on his lap, impaled on his cock while her hands gripped his shoulders. She tried to raise her body to get some much needed friction but felt his strong hands gripping her hips, holding her tightly in one place.

“Perhaps you’ll have a better time meditating now,” Cal murmured in response to her incredulous expression, his deep voice rough with lust. As he began to thrust gently inside her, rocking his hips back and forth, Y/N moaned softly, her body beginning to tremble against his.

Cal appeared to be in control of the movements as every time she tried to move, he held her in place until he stopped altogether, leaving her sitting on his throbbing cock.

“We should resume meditating now,” the redhead suddenly whispered against her ear, his voice already low and steady. Without waiting for a response, he closed his eyes, holding the two of them completely still as he began the meditation, all too aware of Y/N’s building frustration.

“W-What…? Cal!” Eyes wide, she glared up at his calm face while she tried to wiggle her hips in defiance.

Cal remained completely still, his eyes closed and his expression serene. He did not respond to her glares or her attempts to wiggle free, instead focusing on the meditation. Y/N felt trapped by his strength and control as she sat on his lap, his cock buried inside her and painfully motionless.

“Focus. You can moan later,” the redhead Jedi murmured in an infuriatingly teasing tone. His eyes remained closed as he held her hips in place with his hands, preventing any movement from either of them. Y/N could feel the heat building inside her as she struggled against his grip.

Sitting beneath the cascading waterfall, drenched and exposed from the waist down, joined together in the most intimate of ways, with her straddling his lap, they made a very scandalous sight to any passerby who might chance upon them. Yet, Cal reassured her of the seclusion of this spot, especially at this time of the evening. And she trusted him to prevent anyone from witnessing them in such a state.

She did not have more time to dwell on it as the lack of movement or friction was starting to agitate her, Pressed against his strong chest with him deep inside her was beginning to drive her insane.

"Cal... Are you serious?" she hissed, incredulous at his apparent calmness despite their passionate embrace.

“I am completely serious, Y/N,” Cal replied, his voice barely more than a whisper and his eyes still closed. He could feel every muscle in her body tense as she struggled against him, her breaths becoming shallower and quicker.

“H-How do you expect me to meditate like this? Especially when I can barely do it normally…”

“Concentrate on your breathing,” Cal instructed, his hands tightening slightly around Y/N’s hips to keep her still. “Feel the water cascading down around us, feel the coolness against your skin.”

“And you inside me…?” She snarkily whispered, glaring up at him.

Cal’s lips twitched, almost as if he was trying not to laugh. “And me inside you,” he acknowledged, his voice lowering into a gentle murmur. “Feel our connection, Y/N. Let it guide you.”

“Cal…!” She whined, wiggling her hips. “I need you to move!”

The redhead opened his eyes slowly, meeting Y/N’s desperate gaze. He could see the desire and need burning bright in her eyes, and it only served to fuel his own desires. With a soft chuckle, he began to rock his hips gently, grinding against her. “Like this?”

“Yes! J-Just like this…!” Gasping, she leaned her head against his shoulder, savouring the sensation as her eyes drifted shut in bliss. The sensation of her soft walls gripping him tightly as he moved sent shivers down his spine.

Unfortunately, Cal halted his gentle movements all too soon for her liking, a playful grin forming on his lips. “You’ll enjoy the ride a lot more once we finish meditating, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “Finish meditating with me, and I’ll continue moving like this.”

“Cal, that’s not fair!”

Cal chuckled softly in response, his hands moving to caress her back soothingly. “Life isn’t always fair, my love,” he said with a grin. “But if you want me to continue, you know what you need to do. It’ll be worth it in the end, I promise.”

The redhead was feeling mischievous, finding it intensely arousing to withhold Y/N's release while relishing the sensation of being inside her. He was confident she could endure it, knowing it would heighten their eventual climax.

As he continued to tease her, Cal couldn't help but revel in the feeling of being intimately connected with her. The warmth of her body embraced him like a comforting blanket, and the tight grip of walls around him sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.

“Come on, love,” he whispered against her skin when she did not respond. “Let’s meditate together for a while. I promise it’ll be worth it. And if you do well...” His hands moved up to caress her breasts gently, the soaked shirt offering no resistance as his thumbs teased her nipples while he waited for her response.

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, her body conflicted between longing for more stimulation and craving more of Cal’s teasing. With a glare aimed up at him, she took a deep breath and reluctantly relented. “Fine, fine… If I do well?” she huffed, attempting to divert her attention to the cascading waterfall instead of her yearning for him to resume his movements.

Cal gave her a knowing smile, raising an eyebrow as he slowly rocked his hips once more. “You’ll get to hear me moan your name.” He promised softly, his voice deep with desire and pure lust.

“I like the sound of that…” she whispered, her body slowly relaxing in his arms as she imagined him in the throes of pleasure.

“Good girl,” Cal praised her with a grin. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes again and focusing on the feeling of being connected to the Force. “Let’s continue then.”

Her cheeks flushed at his praise, and she did her best to calm herself. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against Cal’s shoulder. She reminded herself to be patient—to wait for him to give in. She knew it wouldn’t be much longer. He always succumbed to her eventually, but she had to applaud his self-control.

As they meditated together, the sounds of the waterfall and Y/N’s calm breathing began to fill Cal’s mind. He could feel the Force flowing through him, connecting him to the universe in a way that was both exhilarating and soothing.

Cal felt a warmth spreading through his body as he focused on the Force. The connection between him and the Y/N was intense, amplifying every emotion and sensation. He could feel her heart racing and her muscles tensing against him, mirroring his own arousal. His throbbing member was surrounded by Y/N’s soft walls, adding an entirely new dimension to the sensations he was experiencing. It was both stimulating and restrictive, pushing him to the edge of his control without ever fully giving in.

As the continued to meditate and share their intense connection, Cal felt himself growing closer to release. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer, the mix of pleasure from within her tight, warm folds and  the Force’s energy being too much to ignore.

With a mischievous urge to challenge Cal's self-control, Y/N contracted her walls, squeezing him even tighter, hoping to coax him into losing control and finally making love to her.

The gentle contraction of Y/N’s walls was too much for Cal to bear. He let out a gasp, breaking the meditative silence as he thrust up into her, seeking release. He groaned her name, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensations coursing through him.

“Y/N!” He hissed through gritted teeth, still lost in the intense pleasure. “You promised!” He growled, but his voice betrayed the fact that he didn’t really mean it. He continued to pound into her eagerly, losing himself in the union of their bodies.

“So did you,” she cooed, cupping his stubbled cheeks in her soft hands and drawing his face closer to hers. Meeting him halfway, she pressed her lips against his in a tender kiss.

Cal’s anger dissipated as soon as their lips met. He pulled Y/N closer, deepening the kiss and letting out a moan of approval. His hands roamed across her body, touching every inch of her skin he could reach. He never wanted this moment to end.

“Now that meditation is over…” she whispered against his lips, moving her hips against him as his grip on her loosened.

“Yeah,” the redhead replied with a smirk, relishing in the feel of her body moving against his. “Now that it’s over…” His voice trailed off as he leaned in for another passionate kiss, letting their desire guide them.

With a sudden surge of strength, Cal pushed Y/N onto her back, sending them both splashing into the shallow water. He followed her down, his body pressing tightly against hers as he claimed her mouth once again.

The young woman eagerly intwined her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Enclosed by the shallow water and shielded by the waterfall, they were lost in their own private world.

With the sound of the waterfall, and Y/N’s soft gasps filling his ears , Cal lost himself completely in the moment. He moved his body against hers, their hearts beating in sync as he felt himself drawing closer to the edge once more. This time, he made no effort to restrain himself.

Cal held Y/N tightly against him, his arms braced on either side of her head. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside her, their bodies moving in a rhythmic dance of passion. He lowered one arm to tightly grip her hip as he felt himself reaching the brink.

Their bodies moved in harmony, their pleasure-filled moans muffled by the cascading water. Y/N clung to the redhead tightly, her legs wrapped around his waist, and urging him closer with each passionate thrust.

Feeling his climax approaching, Cal’s heart began to race and his muscles tensed. With one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside her as he could go. Y/N’s name was a moan on his lips just like he had promised earlier as he released himself, filling her with his seed.

Y/N could feel her own muscles contracting as their bodies joined in this passionate union. Her muscles contracted around him and her walls tightening in a powerful release. She whispered his name, her eyes closed in ecstasy before she let out a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure.

As their passion subsided, they rested against each other, panting heavily. Cal gazed into Y/N’s eyes and saw a mix of love, satisfaction and adoration. He kissed her softly on the lips before pulling out of her and collapsing beside her into the shallow water.

Breathing softly, her hair splayed out in the water, Y/N rested on her back. “That was… pretty good…” she whispered softly, struggling to find the right words. She also realised that dusk was approaching, the sun beginning to set. She had lost track of how much time they had spent outside, and with good reason.

Cal chuckled softly, rolling on his side to face her. “Pretty good? I’d say it was downright spectacular.” He reached out to brush his fingers through her wet hair, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Yeah it was. Maybe we should meditate more often if it’ll end like this…” she said, smirking up at him.

Cal laughed again, his deep, warm voice rumbling in his chest. “I don’t think I could handle meditating with you too often, Y/N. You’re just too damn distracting.”

Giggling, she rolled to her side as well, mirroring his position, with her head cradled in one hand. The water rippled gently around them, the sound of the waterfall creating a tranquil atmosphere. “I’ll accept that as a compliment…”

“Oh, it’s definitely a compliment. But be careful, or I might just have to put you on a pedestal and admire you from afar.” His lips curled into a playful grin as he teased her.

“Admire me? As flattered as I am, is that all you’d do to me?” she asked, her voice husky and filled with desire, despite having just experienced mind-blowing sex with him moments ago. Her craving for the red-headed Jedi seemed insatiable.

Cal’s grin widened. “Oh, I could do a lot more to you, Y/N,” he purred, leaning in close enough for their bodies to brush against each other. His green eyes gleamed with amusement and desire.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

The redhead’s hand slid down her side, tracing along her hip and lower back before dipping between her legs. His have her a sultry look as his fingers teased at her sensitive flash through the water. “I could make you scream my name again…”

“I’d love that…” Y/N murmured, her playful demeanor giving way to a dreamy expression.

[prettyangeliczz]

oh long hair jaafar, you are so loved by me.

[moonwalkingforever]

Bad + Outro

Live in Wembley, July 16th, 1988 · BAD Tour

[offthesunset]

The Honeymoon | Jafaar Jackson x F! Reader

synopsis: You and Jaafar have officially tied the knot and are off to the moon. The both of you waited till marriage to get a taste of each other but little did you know that he had a couple tricks up his sleeve.

warnings: newly weds, vanilla sex, shared kisses, consent, mentions of past events, fem oral receiving, missionary

a/n: Don't jump me please! I got tons of Michael smut in the drafts, imma get those out soon (sometime this weekend)!

“Momma, please stop,” you whined, gently pulling the train of your dress away from your mother, who couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Her tears were quickly wiped away as she looked over at Jafaar, who couldn’t help but laugh at the emotional moment. He pulled your mother into a warm hug, reassuring her that everything was fine and that there was nothing to worry about.

“Mrs. L/N, I promise I’ll take good care of her and call every now and then. We’ll be fine,” he reassured her, offering a gentle smile as he tried to calm her worries.

She nodded while you shook your head, unable to believe your mother was still holding onto her tears. You opened the door to your hotel suite, and the blinding white interior welcomed you with open arms.

The luxury surrounding you was almost overwhelming, but all you cared about was finally having a moment to yourself. You kicked off your heels, jumped onto the sheets, and stretched out like a cat soaking up the comfort of her new home. For the first time all day, you allowed yourself to relax.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Jafaar finished, closing the door gently behind him.

The moment the door clicked shut, he let out a sigh of relief, finally allowing the weight of the day to leave his shoulders. The emotions, the tears, and the chaos of the goodbye were over, at least for tonight.

Jafaar grabbed your heels from the ground and carefully placed them back into their box. He moved with patience, taking the veil from your head, removing each piece of jewelry, and helping you slip out of the heavy dress as you allowed him to.

The moments of the day slowly disappeared with every piece he took away. The dress, the heels, the veil, all reminders of the moment you had just lived through. For now, it was just the two of you, away from the cameras, the expectations, and the world waiting outside.

“Jafaar, do you ever think about the day we met? The day you first laid eyes on me and decided to make a move?” you asked, a soft smile forming as the memory crossed your mind.

“Of course. I think about that moment every single day. That’s why I decided to marry you,” he answered, resting his head in your lap. “You were the one person who wanted to know me for me.”

His words softened the room, reminding you both of a time before the titles, the expectations, and everything that came with his name. Before the world saw him as anything else, you saw him as just Jafaar.

“Aw,” you whispered.

A tear slipped down your cheek as you listened to him admit that his feelings had always been strong and that they always would be. There was something comforting about knowing that, through all the changes and challenges, his love for you never wavered.

You brushed your fingers through his curls, holding onto the moment as you realized this was the same man who had once taken a chance on you and was now promising to stand beside you for the rest of his life.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, letting the weight of the conversation settle between you. The room was peaceful, filled only by the quiet sounds of each other’s breathing.

Jafaar eventually looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours as he rested his hands gently on your thighs. He had that knowing look on his face, one that felt all too familiar, but this time it carried a different meaning. It was desire and the promise of everything the two of you had built together.

“You nervous?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. His voice was soft, almost teasing, but there was a tenderness behind it that made the question feel different this time.

“What if it hurts? What if something goes wrong?” you thought, your mind racing as you tried to find every possible reason to hold onto your nerves.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go slow,” Jafaar promised.

He gently lifted your chin with his index finger, guiding your eyes back to his. His gaze was calm and reassuring, reminding you that there was nothing to fear. In that moment, it wasn’t about rushing or expectations. It was about trust, patience, and the bond the two of you had built long before this night.

His lips touched yours softly, a gentle reassurance that he was ready. The moment felt different from anything before, carrying a sense of trust and pleasure that words couldn’t fully explain. He took his time, letting you feel safe in the moment and reminding you that you were never alone in it.

Your legs parted slowly with the small movement of his hands. Your chest pumped steady as you took small breaths and went with the flow. His lips grabbed a hold of yours taking another taste but something he didn't get a chance to have earlier.

Now that your dress was gone, there was no more hiding.

Jafaar dragged your panties to your ankles then pulled them off with his teeth. the lace material tossed to the floor as you gasped.

The both of you had waited years for this moment. You wanted it to be special.

“Can I touch you here?” he asked, his voice soft as he waited for your answer.

He didn’t rush the moment or assume anything. He gave you the space to decide, his eyes searching yours for reassurance before taking another step. It was a quiet reminder that, beneath everything else, the trust between the two of you mattered most.

You nodded, giving him the green light. The small gesture was all the reassurance he needed, and he continued with the same patience and care he had promised you. The trust between the two of you spoke louder than words ever could.

He placed his head between your thighs and licked your clit gently. The tip of his tongue pushing against you as you let out a small breath.

His motions involved circling and going up and down. The wet feeling of his tongue felt so good on your folds. Your head leaned back slowly taking it all in.

The pressure of his fingertips pressing against your thighs as he placed your legs over his shoulders.

The built up temptation you held on for years had finally been released for good.

"Mmm" he mumbled into you. He been wanting this taste since the end of time, he was thankful you gave him permission to eat.

His lips attached to your clit sucking the flavor out of you till he couldn't no more.

"May I?"

He raised two fingers and waited for you to let him continue.

"Oh yes! I want it inside, my love"

Jafaar took your wish and fulfilled it. He placed his middle and ring finger inside slowly curling his fingers in the process. The tip reaching the scratch you needed to itch. A small moan choired from your throat; arching your back in the right position, and held onto his head.

"Right there." you moaned.

his smile flashed all thirty two teeth watching you lose control.

his thumb brushed across your clit sending you into shock. the tremble your legs provoked wrapped against his head trying to hold him tight and keep him from moving.

Jafaar carefully detached your legs from him and stood to his feet dropping his bottoms. Your eyes dropped down to his member wanting a taste of it but it felt too good to move.

"You look so pretty waiting for me," Jafaar cooed, bending down to kiss your lips as he unwrapped a condom and slipped it onto himself. "Baby, I need you to work with me and breathe again, okay?"

You nodded just lost in your thoughts and feelings.

He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close to his stomach. Sliding it in slow, you stretched letting him in. A groan of relief left your stomach feeling him warm inside. You couldn't help but cry at the sudden movement.

Jafaar wiped your tears as he pushed further in.

"Fuck."

"Can I keep moving?"

"Yes, god!"

A thrust pushed into you moving you along the sheets. Your eyes glued to him as he held onto you not wanting to let go. Sweat dripped down his forehead causing him to remove his tie and button down shirt. His nude skin pressing against yours as he pulled you into a bear hug.

The feeling of your tight folds holding him made it impossible for him to keep it slow.

He picked up the pace letting his member speak for him.

His lips attached to your lobe nibbling away at what he could.

The sounds of your skin boomed through the room. The bed creaking underneath your bodies. The once made up sheets had been tossed to the floor around his feet. Your wedding rings shining in the warm lights. The sun setting down revealing a beautiful orange. The world disappearing before your eyes.

Your eyes gone white overwhelming you with too much.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum," you whispered into his ears as you held into the back of his neck.

"Just one more second." he promised once again.

Jafaar held your hips down thrusting what he had left in him before pulling out and cumming onto your stomach.

"Damn."

The liquid dripped off your stomach and onto the sheets soaking it up.

His body gone limp laying onto of you as the both of you caught your breaths.

"Jafaar, I love you." you mumbled, catching your words up with your breath.

"I love you too." he responded, kissing you once more.

You held your hand to the ceiling and admired your wedding ring taking in all its glory and the sentimental value behind it. Jafaar held his behind your head and kissed your forehead goodnight.

[prettyangeliczz]

AND WHEN WE GET DIRTY DIANA, SMOOTH CRIMINAL, AND BOTDF THEN WHAT?

i desperately need another part of me also

[itzjustmaplee]

i would be a HUGE problem if i was alive in the 80s. god he looks so SCRUMPTIOUS

[soleantoinette]

HANDS ON ME !

count ：5.1k

pairing：jaafar jackson╱black!female reader

forewarning：MDNI, 18+, Oral (f!receiving), missionary, explicit dialogue, unprotected sex (don't be out here fucking raw y'all), p-in-v, light dominance

synopsis : Jaafar looked too good in that suit at Wimbledon

a/n: I was going to save this specific storyline for “The Devotion Clause”, but I had this edit in mind and it could not get out of my head, and I didn’t want to leave you guys high and dry. Although, the Wimbledon pictures WILL be used in The Devotion Clause.

banner - @cafekitsune

You were aroused. Extremely aroused. And all it took was a suit to make the dam break loose.

It all started this morning in the hotel room. You woke up, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes. You looked over and saw Jaafar’s peaceful, sleeping figure. You decided against waking him up, as the flight was delayed by hours, landing in the dead of night, and the grueling travel day on top of weeks of back-to-back work had visibly drained him. The long travel day was enough, and you didn’t want to disturb your sleeping fiancé after the restless travel day.

You got out of the heat from the bed, swinging your limbs over the mattress and sliding your feet into your fluffy slippers as you made your way to the bathroom. You looked in the bathroom mirror, your purple bonnet halfway sliding off your head, your brown skin bouncing off the light, and your brown eyes still sleepy.

You adjusted your bonnet, brushed your teeth, and squeezed a dollop of face wash into your palms, working it into a rich lather. You were in the middle of rinsing your face wash when muffled footsteps started coming toward the bathroom. Before you could grab a towel, you felt big hands wrap around your waist. 

“Morning, babe,” Jaafar said sleepily, his sound laden with sleep as he pulled your face into his neck and placed a soft kiss. 

You smiled as you leaned back into his touch, melting into his warmth. “Good morning, J.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asked.

“I didn’t want to disturb your sleep, baby,” you answered softly, turning to face him properly. You looked up at his slightly ruffled hair and heavy eyelids. “We flew in so late, and I know how hard you were working non-stop these past few months. I’d figure you needed a break.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your chin against his chest.

“That doesn’t matter; I’d rather wake up with you,” he spoke quietly, his murmur a rasp against your skin as he pressed his head into your shoulder.

You shuddered down your spine, your fingers now tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes still full of sleep but softening with that intense fondness reserved only for you. He reached up, gently sliding your purple bonnet the rest of the way off, letting your knotless braids tumble down. His fingers slid through the braids, massaging your scalp with a slow beat that made your knees feel inexplicably weak.

"It's time to get ready," he spoke quietly, kissing your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then the corner of your mouth. "I have to be downstairs for the press circuit by eleven."

"Already?" You sighed, resting your hands against his broad chest. "It looks like you barely slept."

"I know. But duty calls," he said, giving your waist a final, firm squeeze before stepping toward the shower.

You walked out of the bathroom and over to the garment bag hanging on the closet door. You unzipped the bag, disclosing a crisp white dress that stopped at your upper thigh. Taking the bag out of the closet, you laid it down on the bed and sat at the vanity mirror to get dressed.

You put your braids up in a bun, leaving out a chunk of braids for a bang. You were finishing your makeup when Jaafar walked out of the bathroom. You looked up to see him in the mirror and stopped all movement. His towel draped low, water droplets shimmering on his shoulders and down to his V-line. You looked back at your reflection before he could notice you staring at him, applying blush as you reminded yourself to breathe as he walked past you.

You’d finally finished hair and makeup, and slipped on your dress. You slipped on your white open-toe heels, your white pedicure showing. You sprayed on your perfume and adjusted your bracelets as you looked into the mirror one last time.

“Jaafar! I’m ready,” you called out, packing up the last of your makeup and perfumes. 

“Alright, give me two seconds.”

You zipped your toiletries bag and turned around. You looked up, and the sight in front of you almost made your knees buckle.

Jaafar walked out of the bathroom, fixing his custom-made plaid suit as he closed the door behind him. He looked up, saw you staring, and an understanding smirk formed on his face.

“Like what you see, my lovely fiancée?”

You gulped sharply. You subtly squeezed your legs tight as a wave of heat rushed from your stomach down straight to your thighs.

Jaafar looked good. Too good. The light fragrance of his cologne was strong in the air as her maintained eye contact with you.

“U-uh, you look good, baby,” you stuttered, shifting your weight on your right foot. “You look very good.”

Jaafar took two slow steps toward you, stopping in front of you. “You look good too, baby.”

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between the two of you. His eyes fell lower, taking in the white dress. His eyes took in the way it clasped to your hips and exposed your brown legs.

"Matter of fact," Jaafar murmured, his voice falling into a thick, low register that sent another wave of heat straight to your core, "you look too good just to be standing here looking at me like that.”

You blush as a smile creeps onto your face. “Stop it. We’re not going to make it out of this room if you keep flirting with me.”

In the car, Jaafar fixed his collar in the tinted window reflection. You look over at him, watching his large hands move to fix his collar. You swallowed thickly, imagining how his hands would feel rubbing up and down your body, and how his fingers would feel inside your-

“You good?” Jaafar asks with concern, now looking over at you. You blink rapidly, your dirty thoughts vanishing to the back of your mind. "The look on your face tells me that something's wrong."

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking, that’s all.” You responded, smoothing your dress with your manicured hands.

You look back up, and Jaafar’s gaze still burns into your eyes. His eyes swept over your white dress, a grin growing on his face.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" you questioned, adjusting your purse in your lap while trying to cool the sudden flush warming your cheeks. "We literally just got here."

"I can't help it," Jaafar said smoothly. He reached across the leather seat, his large hand wrapping securely around yours, his thumb moving slow, hypnotizing circles over your knuckles. "You look stunning."

You bit your lip, squeezing his hand back as the driver opened the door. "You're terrible."

"Only for you, baby.”

The car comes to a stop as you guys arrive. Jaafar hops out of the car, walking to your side and opening the door, taking your hand as your legs swing over the seat and your heels touch the ground.

Cameras immediately began flashing while murmurs circulated through the crowd. His hand slides from yours to the small of your back. His fingers press firmly as you go through the press.

"Mr. Jackson! Over here!" a photographer called out as you both made your way toward the Royal Box entrance.

Jaafar paused for a brief moment, pulling you in just a fraction closer. You both smiled, leaning in impossibly closer to each other as flashes from the cameras made a click-click-click sound.

The summer heat settled on your skin as you and Jaafar sat next to each other in the lower box. Tens of thousands of eyes were fixed on the grass below, the sharp thwack of the tennis ball echoing. While everyone else was on the game, you were focused on Jaafar.

He had one arm casually draped over the back of your seat, his body relaxed as he watched the game with his sunglasses on. Every time the crowd burst into applause, his long fingers would draw tiny designs against the exposed skin on your shoulder and slide down toward the strap of your white dress.

You tried your best to focus on the game, clapping every time somebody made a score, but his proximity was impossible to ignore. Your legs shift again, attempting to ignore the throbbing ache between your legs.

“Are you okay?” Jaafar asks, looking over at you. His brows crease slightly as concern spills over his face. "You've been acting weird since this morning."

“I’m fine, babe. It’s a bit hot, but nothing you need to worry about, J,”.

“Nothing I need to worry about, huh?” Jaafar murmured, his voice falling an octave that made your skin shiver.

Before you could reply, his hand slid off the back of your seat. Slowly, casually, his large palm settled right on your thigh. The sudden, burning heat of his palm sent another jolt straight to your core, making your breath catch in your throat.

He didn't pull away. Instead, as the crowd cheered for another rally down on the grass, his thumb began a slow, deliberate stroke over your skin, tugging the hemline up just an inch higher.

"Jaafar," you whispered, keeping your face turned toward the court, though your eyes were wide. "What are you doing? People are going to see."

“Let them see then, baby,” He said smoothly, utterly unfazed. His fingers squeezed tightly. "You think I haven't noticed you fidgeting next to me this whole set? You've been squeezing your legs together since we were at the hotel."

Your cheeks reddened instantly. You reached down, grabbing his wrist under the cover of the armrest, but instead of pushing him away, your fingers just gripped around the sleeve of his plaid suit jacket. The rich felt crisp under your fingertips, but all you could think about was the man wearing it.

"You did this," you admitted softly, leaning in just close enough that he could hear. "You put on this suit looking all good knowing damn well what it does to me."

A low, amused laugh slipped out of Jaafar’s lips. He shifted slightly in his chair, angling his broad shoulders toward you to block the view of the spectators sitting to your right.

"Is that right?" he cooed, his thumb making another agonizingly slow pass up the inside of your thigh. "So it's my fault you're sitting here distracted?"

"Yes," you breathed with a playful laugh, swallowing hard as a new wave of heat gathered between your legs. "It's entirely your fault."

Jaafar let out another low laugh that quivered against your arm. He casually leaned down, bringing his face close to yours under the bright afternoon sun, pretending to mutter a quick commentary about the match. But when his lips touched the shell of your ear, his warm breath caused tingles down your spine.

"Then just you wait," he said in a mutter, his hand pressing just a little firmer against your skin. "Because the second this final game wraps up, we aren't waiting for the press line. I'm taking you straight back to the hotel, and you're going to get what you want."

The car couldn't park fast enough.

The moment the vehicle pulled into the hotel garage, Jaafar was already tapping his leather dress shoes against the ground. He tipped the driver, grabbed your hand before the valet could even reach the door handle, and pulled you out into the cool air.

He didn't say a word as he led you toward the elevators, but the tension coming from him was loud. His grip on your hand was firm, his long fingers laced tightly through yours. Every time the heels of your shoes clicked upon the gleaming floor, his thumb would press a hard, possessive stroke over the back of your knuckles.

The elevator doors closed, sealing the two of you in.

Jaafar didn't wait for the floor indicator to light up. He immediately hit the button for the penthouse suite, turned, and backed you straight up against the mirrored wall of the elevator.

"Jaafar," you gasped, your back hitting the chilly glass.

His heavy plaid jacket pressed against your chest as he leaned in, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of the world. He reached up, his large, warm hand cupping the side of your neck, his thumb resting over your racing pulse.

"You have been driving me insane all afternoon," he spoke quietly, his dark eyes looking into yours with a strength that made your knees instantly go soft. "Squeezing your legs, looking at me like you wanted to eat me alive right there in the Royal Box."

"Like I said earlier, you started it," you breathed out, your hands instantly reaching up to grip the lapels of his suit jacket—just like you'd been dying to do since this morning.

A growl escaped his throat. He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss that completely took your breath away. His tongue slid past your lips, possessive and impatient as the lift rose. His free hand slid down to your waist, his fingers burrowing into your hip through the white material of your dress, pulling you so flush against his front that you could feel the hard growing beneath you.

The elevator chimed, announcing your floor, but Jaafar barely broke the kiss. He pulled back just an inch, his heavy breath heated against your slick lips.

"Keys," he rasped, his eyes dark and heavy.

You unquestioningly reached into your small clutch, pulling out the keycard and handing it to him. Jaafar took it without breaking eye contact, grabbed your hand, and practically pulled you down the quiet carpeted hallway.

He slid the card into the reader, the lock clicked green, and the second the door swung open, he guided you inside and kicked it shut behind him.

The heavy bang of the door locking was the final green light.

Jaafar pulled the bottom of your dress over your head, tossing the fabric onto the floor and leaving you in nothing but your black bra and underwear. He lifted you with ease and gently placed you on the bed, your back touching the soft duvet bedding. Before you could even catch your breath, he was hovering over you. He moved down from your collarbone to your neck, placing a trail of warm, soft kisses. He bit down on your sweet spot, leaving a mark.

“J—,” you moan, your back arching off of the bed, toes clenching into the soft duvet as a flush of pleasure flows through your body. The sound of your need, raw and unrestrained, fills the room. Jaafar feels his dick twitch, hardening painfully against the cloth of his pants at the sound of your moan. He bites down on a groan, his jaw clenching as he struggles to keep his composure, but it’s a losing battle—your voice alone is enough to undo him. His gaze flickers hungrily over your body, drinking in every detail: the way your chest heaves, the desperate arch of your spine, the quiver in your thighs. Desire coils in his gut, hot and urgent, and he can’t help but press his hips forward, needing the friction you inspire.

He then sits up, his chest rising with shallow breaths as he looks down at you spread out beneath him, cheeks reddened, and lips parted. “Where do you want me to touch you, baby? Here?” His voice's tone is rough, full of longing, as he slides his large hands up your sides, fingertips following the curve of your waist before finding your covered breasts. He palms them gently at first, then kneads them more firmly, thumbs circling over the straining fabric. The friction between the lace and your sensitive skin is maddening, sending sparks through your body. Each squeeze draws a fresh moan from your lips, your hands winding around his neck, pulling him closer, your nails scratching lightly at his nape.

“I need you to use your words, baby,” Jaafar murmurs, his lips touching the shell of your ear as his thumb circles and flicks over the stiff peak of your nipple through your bra, teasing you with deliberate, torturous slowness. The heat of his breath against your skin sends goosebumps racing down your arms.

“You,” you gasp, your hips lifting off the duvet, instinctively seeking out his hardness, desperate for more contact. Your voice trembles with need. “I need you, J. Everywhere. Your hands, your mouth, all of you.”

"Everywhere?" he repeats, his dark eyes never leaving yours, voice subdued and eager. His hands slide with excruciating slowness to your bra straps, his thumbs brushing over the delicate skin of your shoulders as he pushes the straps down, baring you inch by inch. "Do you want these off, sweetheart? Tell me."

“Yes—please, Jaafar, take it off,” you plead, voice just more than a tone, full of longing. Your fingers tangle tightly in his hair, tugging him closer, your breath ghosting over his cheek. The pain for him is almost unbearable, and your thighs press together as you anticipate the next touch.

With one swift, practiced motion, he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside, letting it fall in a heap with your discarded dress. The cool air in the room instantly pebbles your skin, your nipples hardening into aching peaks. Jaafar pauses, his breath faltering as he takes you in—his eyes wandering hungrily over every inch of your bare chest, lingering on the soft swell of your breasts and the flush coursing over your skin. The reverence through his gaze makes heat bloom between your legs.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his voice laden with unadulterated desire. “Spread out for me, looking so damn good while I’m still stuck in this suit.” He lets his knuckles drag lightly over your stomach, his touch reverent and possessive all at once.

“Then take it off,” you beg, your voice mellow still insistent. You reach up, gripping the wide, smooth lapels of his plaid jacket, tugging him down until you can feel the heat of his breath on your lips. Your fingers clutch at the fabric, desperate for more skin-to-skin contact, your need for him overwhelming.

“No,” Jaafar growls, his lips brushing your ear, the noise vibrating straight through you. He dips down, his hand sliding slowly, teasingly up your inner thigh, fingertips skimming sensitive skin until his whole, warm palm cups you through your underwear. The pressure is just right, enough to make you gasp and buck into his hand. “You wanted the suit, baby. So I’m keeping it on while I make you scream my name.”

Jaafar leans down, his mouth hot and insistent as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe across your aching nipple, the sensation sending your back arching off the bed. The wet heat of his tongue pulls a stifled gasp from deep in your chest. His other hand finds your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, making your head spin as pleasure crashes through you in dizzying waves.

"You like that?" Jaafar purrs, his breath soft against your skin. The only answer you can muster is a broken moan, your mind fogged by sensation, unable to form words as the pleasure mounts.

He pinches your nipple harder, a sharp shock of sensation making you yelp and writhe beneath him. “I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice dark and commanding, his lips never far from your skin.

"Yes!" you cry out, breathless, your hand rushing to tangle in his hair, gripping tight as if to anchor yourself. He sings in satisfaction, the vibration buzzing against your breast as your fingers massage his scalp, feeding his hunger for you.

Jaafar lifts his head, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your torso, lingering at your navel before continuing lower. He nuzzles against the waistband of your underwear, his breath scorching your skin, and looks up at you with a wicked, cunning smile. He presses a slow, deliberate kiss right over your aching core, making you shudder and clutch the sheets.

"Jaafar, please," you whimper, voice trembling in desperation, your hips lifting off the bed as you silently beg for more.

"Please what, baby?" he teases, voice silky and infuriating, drawing out your need.

"I want you to keep going," you manage, your voice hardly holding firm as you cling to the last thread of control.

"Keep going with what?" he presses, his fingers hooked teasingly into the waistband of your underwear, waiting for your surrender.

You let out a shuddering sigh, frustration and hunger combining in your voice. "I want your mouth—Jaafar, eat me alive. Please."

Jaafar’s grin widens, smug and wicked. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” His eyes darken, the hunger inside his gaze promising everything you just confessed to wanting.

His hands slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, knuckles grazing your heated skin, making you shiver. He drags the fabric down achingly slow, exposing inch after inch of your bare skin, letting his fingers trail along your thighs as he peels the underwear past your knees, then down your calves, leaving your heels still strapped on. His touch is reverent, treasuring each second of unveiling you.

Now, you are utterly bare beneath Jaafar, the cool air teasing your sensitive skin. You feel his eyes devouring every inch of you, making you ache for the next touch.

Jaafar’s fingers move to the strap of your heel, but you stretch out your hand, catching his wrist before he can undo it. "Leave them on," you breathe, voice husky. "I love when you eat me out with my heels on." The confession makes his eyes flare with fresh hunger.

Jaafar blinks, momentarily surprised by your request, but a slow, predatory smile curves his lips as he moves his large hands to the insides of your thighs. He urges your knees apart, exposing you completely, his eyes connecting with yours before dropping to your glistening center. He presses a series of open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you tremble, before flattening his tongue and licking a slow, wet stripe up your slit. The heat and pressure of his tongue make you seize the comforter, knuckles chalky as you gasp for air.

Jaafar doesn’t let up, his tongue moving with skilled precision, spelling both of your names on your clit, the sensation making your hips jerk and your jaw fall open in a mute scream. Every flick and swirl is deliberate, relentless, sending lightning through every nerve ending. His stubble scrapes your thigh, adding a delicious edge of roughness to the overwhelming pleasure, and your body shudders involuntarily beneath him.

"Nngh, Jaafar," you moan, your head falling back as the pleasure grows almost unbearable. Instinctively, your hands move to his head, fingers tangling in his curls, trying to push him away from the excessive stimulation. But he only tightens his hold, his right arm hooking securely over your leg, holding you in place as he devours you, determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body.

"You better stop moving. This is what you wanted, right?" he growls, glancing up at you with a dark, possessive look as his tongue continues its merciless assault on your clit. Without warning, he slips two thick fingers inside you, curling them expertly, making you gasp out loud and arch sharply off the bed.

"This is what you wanted? My fingers in and out of you, stretching you open while I taste you?" he taunts, voice guttural, his head dipping back down as he laps at your clit even faster. His fingers thrust and curl relentlessly, finding that spot inside you that makes your vision blur and your toes curl. The sensation is so intense you start seeing stars, your body strung tight as a bow.

"Jaafar, please—" you choke out, barely coherent, the pleasure cresting so high you can hardly breathe.

"Please what, baby?" he demands, relentless, making you say it, his vocal cords vibrating against your most sensitive skin.

"I—nnrgh—I need to cum!" you cry out, voice ragged, your whole body tensing as that pressure in your chest and belly coils impossibly tight, threatening to snap.

Jaafar lifts his mouth from your clit, his lips shining while he looks up at you, fingers yet working you ruthlessly. “Cum for me, baby. I want you to let go—cum everywhere. I want to see you fall apart for me.”

Those words are your undoing. Your orgasm explodes through you, your body seizing and shuddering, the pleasure blinding as you squirt uncontrollably across the bedding. Jaafar’s fingers slide out, but he doesn’t stop—he rubs your clit hard and fast, drawing out every last spasm, his hand wet with your release, stare focused on your face as you dissolve beneath him.

Your head sinks deeper into the pillow as you try to catch your breath, chest pounding with every ragged inhale. Jaafar brings his hand to his mouth, licking a slow stripe up his palm, savoring your taste with a satisfied, wicked smile. He shifts back, rising to his feet at the edge of the bed. With skilled ease, he strips off his pants and jacket, each article falling to the floor in a careless heap until he stands before you, gloriously bare and hard. He climbs back onto the bed, settling between your trembling thighs. With one hand, he lines himself up at your entrance, pausing just long enough to meet your eyes before he presses inside, filling you in one deep, slow thrust.

You let out a moan, which is quickly silenced by Jaafar's lips on yours. You taste yourself upon his lips, fighting for dominance in the kiss as he shoves his tongue deeper into your mouth. His thrusts start slow, breaking away from the kiss.

"You know you could've asked me to fuck you, right?" Jaafar taunts as he continues to thrust into you slowly. "I could've fucked you like this earlier this morning."

"Yeah, well- ohmygod- you had to be downstairs at a certain time. We couldn't be late." You replied, trying to articulate your words with Jaafar going in and out of you.

"That's never been a problem, baby. I can fuck you slow like what I'm doing now," he begins. His pace gets faster as he continues stroking his dick in you. "Or I can go faster like this. Whatever you choose."

The faster strokes cause you to exclaim in pleasure, his tip hitting that sweet spot. "Oh my god, Jaafar! Please!"

Jaafar goes faster, continuously hitting that sweet spot, causing you to see white spots in your vision. Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulating feeling in your body. Jaafar lifts your ankles, putting your knees up to your chest. He holds your ankles in your hands, rubbing his thumb on your heels.

“You like when I fuck you in these heels?” Jaafar growled out, his voice husky and commanding over the heavy smack of skin against skin.

He didn’t wait for an answer, driving deep into you at a punishing, unrelenting pace. The sharp contrast of his bare chest pressing against yours while your white open-toe heels were pinned up near your shoulders sent another violent shock of pleasure straight to your brain.

“Jaafar—fuck—yes!” you sobbed out, your hands desperately reaching up to grab his forearms. Your knuckles went white as you held on for dear life, your body lifting off the bed to meet every hard, unyielding thrust.

He groaned at the tightness encircling him, his dark eyes focused on yours with a possessive, dark intensity. “Look at you,” he rasped, his chest beating as he picked up the speed, hitting that sweet spot over and over until you were practically senseless. “All unraveled for me. Screaming for me.”

Your hips bucked helplessly against his, your toes curling inside your heels. The pressure in your core was building again, hot and blinding, tighter than before.

“J, I’m—I’m gonna cum again! Please—”

“Do it,” Jaafar commanded, his sound a low, gravelly order right against your ear as he slammed into you one last time, holding himself impossibly deep inside you. “Cum on my dick, baby. Allow me to feel it.”

The second wave of your orgasm crashed over you like a surging wave, your inner walls milking him tightly as a breathless scream escaped your lips. Jaafar let out a loud, deep groan, his head snapping back as your clenching chest pulled him right over the edge. With a few more hard, desperate drives, he filled you, his body shuddering against yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

For a long, quiet minute, the sole sound in the penthouse suite was the heavy, labored breathing from the two of you.

Jaafar slowly collapsed over you, keeping his heavy weight supported on his elbows so he wouldn't crush you. He pulled your legs down, gently unclasping the straps of your heels and tossing them to the floor before sliding out of you with a soft sigh.

He pulled you flush against his chest, wrapping his arms securely around your waist and burying his face in your knotless braids. You rested your head against his broad chest, listening to the heavy, steady pulsation of his heartbeat under your ear.

"You're a menace," you whispered weakly, your voice husky from screaming as your hand lazily caressed the smooth skin of his back.

Jaafar let out a low, rumbling chuckle that pulsated through your whole body. He tilted your chin up, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

"Me?" he said with a lazy, satisfied smirk. "You're the one who couldn't keep your eyes off my suit, fiancée."

"Because you looked too good in it," you mumbled, smiling as you closed your eyes and sank into his warmth. "Next time, I'm hiding the garment bag."

Jaafar laughed quietly, kissing the tip of your nose as he pulled the duvet over both of your bare bodies. "You know you never need to hesitate to ask if you want me to fuck you senseless."

You nuzzle closer, laughing as you let his warmth seep into your bones, eyelids growing heavy as you melt against him. His fingers trace slow, absentminded patterns along your back, soothing and possessive all at once.

"I mean it," he murmurs, voice thick with lazy affection, "I'll give it to you like this if you ask."

You smile, eyes fluttering closed as you drift in the peaceful aftermath, comforted by the steady thrum of his heart beneath your cheek. You slept well knowing you were able to make sweet love with your man.

☆*⁀‧₊˚ taglist (comment or dm if you want to be taken off!) : @ebvnydesires @mtcloudsworld @smoothcriminalgf @kitty-trash @ysl-doll @szalipcombo @michaelssugarbby @lunarexperttrace @alleycat808 @neverstreett @lovebugcutie

2nd a/n: I feel like this is lowkey buns but lmk what you guys think

[metalcoreegirlie]

Love On The Brain - W.O.

Pairing: Will Ospreay x Female! Reader

Synopsis: One Tuesday night at your local Nando’s, you have an encounter with a charming Essex British man. You’d never thought that night would change your entire life.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: fluff, smut, first time meeting with Will, very brief mentioning of an injury, heavy makeouts, dirty talk, some praising, use of the names ‘’love’’ and ‘’darling’’, fingering, unprotected p in v.

Word Count: 2.7k+

You’d never thought your local Nando’s would change your life.

It was a random week night when you finally decided to go out and try a new restaurant that was local near you.

The aroma of peri-peri chicken and warm spices wrapped around you like a familiar hug as you stepped into Nando’s. The Tuesday night still felt young, the kind where the fluorescent lights felt a little too bright and the tables half empty. You seated yourself at a corner booth with your laptop perched onto the table and a lemon-and-herb chicken hoping for an hour of peace before the dreadful work week swallowed you whole again.

 

You didn’t notice him at first. Not until he walked past your table carrying a tray piled high with extra-hot wings, macho peas, and a side of fries. Tall, broaded-shoulder, that signature slicked back brunette hair that were once blinded curls and the kind of high energy that came from owning every room he entered.

He instantly caught you staring, a slow crooked boyish grin spread across his face.

“Alright?” he asked softly, voice warm with that unmistakable Essex accent. “You look like you need some company, yeah?”

You let out a low laugh, cheeks heating from embarrassment. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But sure, come on over.”

He walked around the corner booth and sat down next to you, but not too close just to keep the vibe friendly.

“So, what brings you here to the one and only lovely Nando’s all by your lonely little self?” he asked, his blue ocean eyes twinkling as his focus was on you.

“Just to find some peace and quiet before my usual work week takes over,” you told him. “Work has been dreadful for me, I work as an office assistant.”

He smiled gently, nodding his head in approval.

“Office assistant, huh? I work as a full time professional wrestler, the company All Elite Wrestling as I call it.” he said with joy. “I’ve been carrying the company on my back for about a few years now, wrestling is actually my superpower.”

You were in awe at his sudden confession, you grabbed a piece of your lemon-and-herb chicken and took a bite out of it before continuing to carry on the conversation.

“That’s amazing,” you replied, studying his facial expression and the way he carried himself with such confidence and dedication into what he was doing. “What’s your name, by the way?” 

“Will,” he began, “Will Ospreay. Almost everyone around here knows who I am. Even when I’m not in the ring or cutting cheeky promos backstage.”

You told him your name as well. The two of you sat there like old friends and had a conversation about your dreams, accomplishments, and what you’d hope for the future.

It hit past midnight. You and Will were already on your way out of the restaurant.

“Here’s my number if you ever need someone to talk to,” he handed you a small piece of paper with his phone number written on it. “It was so nice to meet you, love. Don’t be a stranger.”

The word love made you blush, although knowing that British men had their own special way of communicating. You grabbed the piece of paper from him and extended a hand out to shake his.

“And it was nice to meet you, Will. We’ll definitely be in touch.”

The first month was careful, yet almost shy.

Will became a regular fixture at your and his Nando’s. He’d text you when he was in town between wrestling shows, short but teasing messages that made your phone light up at odd hours.

The regular conversations the two of you had slowly began to turn something into more personal, but not yet all the way. You and Will kept it light, sometimes with a hint of flirting.

“Wings or thighs? Don’t say both, liar.” He texted you one night, your fingers tracing across the screen as you and him were debating on which chicken was better.

“I’d say thighs,” you texted back. “But definitely not the ones where they’re too coated.”

The typing bubble came instantly. You were alone in your apartment living room with the distant blaring of the TV playing in the background.

“Good choice,” He typed back. “Although I’m still gonna have to say wings, but only the hot ones of course.”

You smiled to yourself. You knew Will was going to be someone special to you despite the chemistry the both of you already had.

You’d meet him at his wrestling shows after your shift. Sometimes he’d show up with a fresh bruise blooming across his arm from the match the night before. You’d tease him about it while stealing his halloumi fries off of his plate. He’d take the teasing in return by flicking peri-peri sauce at your nose.

What turned out to be innocent conversations stretched long after the food went cold and was forgotten. He’d tell you stories about the adrenaline crash after big shows, the strong ache in his body that quite seemingly never left. You told him about your dead-end office job, the way the city felt like it was dead and depressing. He listened to you like you were the most interesting person in the world.

On a rare occasion when the two of you would meet, he’d show up with light and visible bruises around different parts of his body but not being ashamed of doing what he was passionate about. He told you another story of when his neck got broken at one of his hometown shows, you were scared for him in a way, but admired his strong efforts into making his dream come true.

One night, rain hammering in the windows, he walked you to your car under his green and white jacket after the show had ended for him. Your shoulders lightly brushed against each other. His hand hovered near the small of your back, inches away from touching.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he murmured, voice low and into that Essex drawl.

You looked up at him, heart thudding into your chest. “Trouble, how?”

His facial expression formed into a soft and gentle smile, but a little helpless. “Because I keep wanting to see you even when I should be sleeping off jet lag from my very busy schedule.”

He kept the vibe friendly and just right. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze once before letting go.

“But I have to go now as well, I’ll see you soon darling.”

You watched him turn his back and walk away. You smiled to yourself, knowing this friendship was going to be something more.

As the months passed, the slow growth of your friendship had become a steady flame.

You started seeing each other outside Nando’s. Almost daily coffee runs when he was home. Late-night drives where he blast his favorite music, bands like Oasis and One Ok Rock.

The song “Wonderwall” by Oasis pounded through the speakers of his car, the night became young but yet longing. His hand stilled on the steering wheel, with his hand inches away from your thigh enough to keep you in check.

You glanced over at him singing with purpose, a grin appeared on your face as you watched him in awe. You and Will drove through the city lights, not giving a care about anything else in the world.

To what felt to you for like hours the two of you spent in the car joking and laughing made time stop. You were enjoying his company, as what an ordinary friend would do.

Every now and then, he would glance back over at you and onto the road. His hand daringly inches closer to resting on your thigh.

‘’We should stop for a moment,’’ he announced.

He turned by a side street, pulling over and parking. He turned the engine off and turned his undivided attention towards you.

“I wanted to tell you something these last couple of months that we’ve known each other,” he started, “Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve brought nothing but joy into my life. The first night I saw you at Nando’s, I knew something within us was going to spark.”

You gazed deeply into his gorgeous blue eyes, his hand slowly creeping up to meet yours. He finally held your hand into his and interlocked his fingers into yours.

“But you deserve to know the truth about how I’m really feeling about you, love. I’m catching real feelings for you.”

A sudden moment of silence abrupted, your fingers lightly grazed over his calloused knuckles as your eyes met his. You smiled in response.

“I think I feel it too, Will.” you finally spoke, “That night at Nando’s changed my life for the better, I’m so lucky to have someone like you in my life and I wouldn’t ask for better.”

His eyes fixated on your lips, and then your face searching for approval. He finally pulled you flush against him and kissed you with deep, pure intentions.

Your body responded back, his hands traveled through your hair as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking. You opened for him with a shaky exhale, earning a low groan from him the sound sending heat straight to you.

The kiss began to grow hotter and wetter. His tongue slid against yours in gentle, deliberate strokes — teasing, exploring, claiming. He pulled you closer onto his lap in the driver’s seat, reclining it back for room for the both of you.

You straddled his large thighs, his hand traveling down to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Will’s breathing grew heavy, the growing bulge in his joggers swelled underneath you making you moan.

He flipped the both of you into the backseat of his SUV and hovered his bigger body over you. He helped you out of your shirt, followed by your bra shortly after.

“Been thinking of how well you’d come apart for me,” he panted against your skin, placing kisses along your shoulder blades. His thumb circled around your sensitive nipple, taking it in his mouth while he lightly sucked on it.

Your back slightly arched off the seat, your hands found their way into strands of his dark slicked back hair. He groaned above you, his fingers hooking themselves under the waist band of your pants pulling them off in a swift motion.

“Tell me you’ve been wanting this too, darling.” he said, his eyes searching for yours.

“I want this with you, Will.” you replied in between moans, “I want you to make me come apart.”

He wasted no time in unhooking your panties over your legs, the cool air hitting your drenched core. You let out a low whimper, he shedded his own clothes off while he drank the disheveled yet addicting sight of you in.

He glided his finger up your puffy slick folds, lightly teasing it before plunging it inside curving it against the velvety walls of your g-spot. Your thoughts went blank for a split second as you moaned aloud, your thighs beginning to tremble.

“This wet for me already?’’ he smirked against your warm skin, chuckling lowly. ‘’Cute.’’

Will began to pump his finger at a steady rhythm, adding another to stretch you out perfectly. Your thighs parted, moans pouring from your lips as you ached desperately for him.

He savored every slick sound, every clench of your walls around him. His calloused fingertips dragged against the sensitive spot inside you, drawing your orgasm out.

‘’That’s it,’’ he praised along your lips, voice wrecked. ‘’Taking my fingers so well, love. So fucking tight and wet. This pretty cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?’’

You could only nod, your orgasm arising. Your forehead was pressed to his as he worked you open more.

Your legs splayed wider across his lap, feeling his hardness against your thighs. The position was messy and cramped, but it made everything more intense.

Rain suddenly began to ponder down the windows. The car smelt like earth, arousal, and the leftover spice the two of you had at the restaurant.

He kissed you through it all — deep, devouring kisses that matched with the pace of his fingers. He fucked you with his fingers faster, curling relentlessly against that spongy ridge inside you, pressing with devastating precision.

Broken moans erupted out of your throat, louder now, as pleasure built higher. His breathing became ragged, one of his thumbs circled around your clit.

‘’Gonna come for me like this first?’’ he growled, applying pressure. ‘’I want to feel you soak my hand, love. Let go for me.’’

It crashed you over the edge, convulsating hard around his fingers as the orgasm hit you like a freight train, He kept kissing you through it, murmuring praise – ‘’Good girl.. So beautiful when you come apart for me’’ while his fingers slowly paced inside you but didn’t stop the movement.

He withdrew his fingers, a thin string of your arousal coating them. He brought them up to his mouth, his broad tongue swirling around them with a lustful groan.

His blue orbs bore into yours, his eyes filled with want and desire. He pulled you up flushed against his body to kiss you again, his hot mouth claiming yours as he let you taste yourself on his tongue.

‘’Need to be inside you,’’ he rasped, flipping you onto your stomach. He slightly held you up off of the backseat, kicking your legs apart to be fully exposed for him.

The flushed dark tip nudged at your entrance, his hands gripping either side of your hips hard enough to bruise. Your knees shook, he aligned himself up rubbing the thick head through your slick folds before slowly pushing in.

The stretch was intense. Inch by inch he sank into your pussy, both of you moaning at the feeling. He bottomed out, but held still letting you adjust.

Then he started moving.

It began slow — long dragging strokes against every sensitive spot inside you. The car began to rock gently in sync with his thrusts, his free hand gently wrapped around locks of your hair pulling your head back.

‘’Fuck, darling… you feel incredible.’’ he groaned, the Essex accent drawn deeper. ‘’So hot and tight around my cock.’’

Will guided you, spreading you open wider with every thrust. His cock continued to stroke deeper along your walls as pornographic moans split from you.

‘’Look at you, love… taking every inch like a good girl.’’

‘’You’re so deep– fuck, Will–’’

‘’That’s right,’’ he growled, breath falling hot on your neck, ‘’Say my name while I fuck you senseless.’’

The pace continued frantically, the rolling of his hips grew harder, deeper, the wet slap of skin and your shared moans filled the car. His chest was mounted to your back, his breathing quickened while he reached down to rub your clit in firm circles.

Pleasure crashed through you like waves, coiling tighter with every deep deliberate plunge of his cock. Your legs shook violently as he held your body up.

‘’Come on my cock, darling. Want to feel you milk every last drop out of me.’’

You came hard the second time, riding the highs of your orgasm with your walls clenching rhythmically around him. He chased his own orgasm moments later with a rough guttural groan, sheathing himself fully as he spilt inside you, hips stuttering through his release.

For a long while afterward, the only sounds known in the room were your deep breathing and the gentleness of the rain. Will gently withdrew himself from you and pulled you into his lap.

His arms enveloped around your waist, his head resting against your shoulder placing a soft and tender kiss to it. You smiled in return, his fingers tracing along your curves.

‘’Stay with me tonight,’’ he whispered, ‘’No more pretending this is just casual. I want to have something real with you, love.’’

‘’I’m yours, Will.’’ you replied, your hand interlocking into his.

What was meant to be a random Tuesday night at Nando’s would become something more meaningful and magical. 

And after all, Will Ospreay was going to be the one for you.

[rise-against-the-machine]

You Don’t Know What Love Means (Will Ospreay x Fem!Reader) 18+

Gif by princedevitt

Title from the song of the same name by Nothing More feat. Taylor Acorn - listen to it, it’s great

Prompt: Will wins the Owen Hart with a little help from his opponent’s ally and asks her back to his hotel to celebrate. What starts as a dream come true ends when Reader can’t quite shake the bad feeling she has.

Content Warnings: 18+, 7k words, friends-to-lovers-to-‘it’s complicated’, angst sprinkled throughout, unhappy ending, love confession (kinda), porn with plot, sexual content (mild BDSM dynamics (switch4switch), descriptions of making out, hair pulling, praise kink, fem!receiving oral, dry humping, fem!receiving penetration (from behind; w/ protection), mildly rough sex), aftercare, and hints/mentions of blood and other wrestling-related violence, alcohol and the Death Riders

Masterlist

Author’s note: both parties are neurodivergent, meaning that the pillow talk may come across as awkward (but sweet) at times; it’s supposed to be that way :)

Taglist: @madhatterbri

The click of the hotel door opening does its best to pierce through the quiet tension that had been brewing for the past few minutes; but if the tap-tapping of your sandals and the rhythmic rolling wheels of his suitcase hadn’t done it, then the door lock definitely wouldn’t either. Will pops his shoes off by the small entrance table and takes the case over to the two-person sofa. Not wanting to look particularly eager, you linger in the entryway, just watching, waiting for him to say something. From the case, he unpacks the massive black and pink title he’d been dreaming about for the past year. His fingers run along the trim, taking it all in. He’d won what was likely the most hard-fought battle of his career tonight—in small part, thanks to you.

You’d spent the better part of the past twelve months at Swerve Strickland’s side; he was a friend, a brother, a mentor, who helped build you as a star. Realistically, you owed everything to him. So you did your best to help in whatever way he needed. During his war waged against the Death Riders and the Bucks, you’d fought side by side. With him. With Will. You’d even convinced him to assist Hangman…

It was during that time that your feelings had truly begun to blossom for the Aerial Assassin, which Swerve made sure to tease you about. (Though admittedly, he was just glad it wasn’t Adam you’d taken a liking to.) Things were good; for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful for the future. If only you’d been able to see where all of this would end.

Since last summer, you’d had a front row seat to witness the way both Swerve and Will had changed.

In his time off, Swerve had unlocked a part of himself he’d swore he’d never unleash again. The same fire and the rage that he’d fought so hard to snuff out was igniting again. You could feel it. He was desperate for a change, for a chance to get back to the top of the mountain and he was becoming ruthless.

All of his inner turmoil was brought to the surface when the tournament was announced. When he was suddenly confronted with the fact that the Will Ospreay that destiny seemed to be calling him to face was not that same one he’d once called a friend. No, this Will had been taken in by the Death Riders and transformed into something else. In Swerve’s mind, he was nothing more than a traitor. “I’m gonna do whatever I have to,” he told you, warming up backstage, “He turned his back on us; it was only a matter of time before the knife hit him.”

On the other side of the bracket, returning from surgery had been incredibly hard on Will. If the target on his neck wasn’t large enough already, now there were neon lights and flashing arrows. Mark Davis had already tried to put him back on the shelf. Left him mere seconds from losing everything again. Maybe that was why he accepted Moxley’s offer, because deep down he was scared of what it meant to not have someone watching his back.

Everyone knew that allies were better to have than friends in their industry; allies could be kept at arms length, but having friends meant letting someone close enough to stab you in the back.

In his work with the Riders, Will had honed his skill, strengthening his mind and body, letting them forge him into an unrelenting weapon. Sharpening his discipline to a fine point that had proven devastating to anyone who crossed his path. You’d tried to appeal to his better nature, plead with him to walk away, but he insisted, “I have to do this. I know you don’t like them, but it’s working. I feel more ready than I have in a long time.”

When the tournament was announced, you knew how it would find its resolution. A battle of the very best. A pair of crimson masks in the midst of a massacre. You’d stood at ringside more times than you could count, but this was different. It was like the air shifted, sucking the very life out of you, in spite of an arena shaking under the power of the fans. And then, it happened.

With Nana distracting the referee, Swerve dragged the other man’s lifeless body over to you, gesturing under the ring. He wanted you to grab something. A chain, a screwdriver, a fucking brick for all he cared, to put an end to Will Ospreay once and for all. Telling—no, demanding—that you finish it. As much as you had tried to hide it these past few months, he knew how much you still cared for him. This was a test of your loyalty. One that he must’ve known you’d fail.

With the slightest shake of your head, all you could do was back away. You couldn’t do it. Not to Will. Not after you had begged him to refuse the Riders help. You wouldn’t. Swerve could finish this on his own. He didn’t need you; this was just a measured act of cruelty.

His eyes narrow, fury radiating from his entire being, following as you edge around the side, unable to look at the blood gushing down Will’s face. Yelling obscenities your way, your betrayal distracts him just long enough for his opponent to catch his breath. Finally, Swerve turns back to the match—right into one of the nastiest hidden blades you’d ever seen. And then, Will hit him again, with a ferocity you hadn’t known was inside of him.

When Swerve kicked out, not a single person in the building failed to gasp. Perhaps even more so when the Death Riders suddenly swarmed the ring, not threatening Swerve, or interfering with the match, just… encouraging Will. The whole situation felt so backwards and, with a head swimming in doubt, you fell back near the barricade, making yourself small. You watched as Will finished the match with furious defiance, putting Swerve away with a brutality you hadn’t known he was capable of, and falling to his knees in the center of the ring, practically sobbing. You didn’t hear the words the two shared; you turned your gaze when Jon kissed Will on the top of his head; and you certainly didn’t stick around to celebrate a victory you had no right to.

It wasn’t until he found you nearly forty minutes later, changed and sitting on a bench outside the women’s locker room waiting for Maya, that you smiled for the first time that night. His hair was still stained red and the bruises had begun to blossom on his face; he’d swapped his ring gear for black sweats and a tank that seemed to have shrunk in the wash. “Hey.” It was all you could say. Words lost to the ether, as your eyes fall to the blood stain on the sole of your shoe. You didn’t know who it belonged to, but it didn’t really matter. It made your heart sting nonetheless.

“What hotel are you in?”

Well, that was certainly not what you had expected him to say. His voice is somehow gruffer than normal, shot from the long night, and it grates at your soul, remembering a time where he used to talk with you every week. Picking at your chipped nail polish, you respond quietly, “Signia, on South Market.”

“Want a ride?” You dare meet his gaze; those pretty blue eyes, tired, but happy; and offer a small shrug.

“Yeah, sure–eh, thank you.” Tossing your duffel bag over your shoulder, you follow him to his car. The sound of passing vehicles and the hum of the parking lot lights make a comforting white noise against the raging stream of thoughts inside your mind. The glint of the Owen Hart belt on his shoulder taunts you in the dark parking lot until, with the trunk opened, he packs it away in a large suitcase and slides his stuff to the side to make room for yours. He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t feel pressure to either, just letting the stereo fill the space between you as he drives from one lot to the next. His hand rests on the center console, bits of dried blood still caked under his nails, and at one point, you’d swear it looked like he was going to reach over and hold your hand.

You wanted him to.

“You were amazing tonight,” you muse when he puts the car in park, finally breaking the silence.

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek for a moment, not making any moves to get out of the car. “Do you want to come up for a drink?” It’s simple enough, though it feels loaded, like maybe he wants to ask about what happened tonight. Although you weren’t sure you’d have an answer if he did.

“Will,” you sigh, turning in your seat to face him fully, “what are we doing?”

His hands fidget with a loose thread on his pants and he shrugs, “I just thought we should talk… and I’ve got a minibar that’s practically begging to be raided.” He says it so non-chalantly that it rockets a laugh out of you, shattering the tension instantly. You just shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘You know what? Good enough reason.’ A goofy smile crosses his face and for a moment things feel normal. Well, maybe not normal, but… more like the way they used to be.

You joke, cracking your door open, “Well, how can I say no to the future world champ? Lead the way.”

With a resolute nod, he grabs both of your bags from the trunk despite your protesting, and wordlessly he takes your hand in his as you make your way up, up, up in the elevator. You do your best to ignore the chill that racks your body at his touch, and you can’t quite tell if he’s purposely avoiding looking at you or it’s just Will being Will. He only releases your hand to dig into his pocket for the room key, softly clicking open. It wasn’t a full penthouse suite, but clearly, he’d chosen to splurge for the occasion. The room was large and open, with a sofa and a loveseat and a coffee cart and a big tv in the main room; a massive plush bed with a full-sized dresser already covered in stuff from his unpacking; and what you could only assume was a jacuzzi big enough for two in the ensuite. It was the kind of room you chose not to partake in on a midcard salary.

Massive windows with peeking curtains show off a view that envied some of the greatest landscape paintings you’d ever seen. Leftover raindrops on the glass blur the lookout over the city, turning street lamps into lighthouses and headlights into shooting stars. As you slowly make your way over to get a better look, he sets the Owen Hart belt on the small coffee table and turns to the minibar, “Will it be vodka or…uh, whiskey for the lady? Sorry, I thought there’d be more options but…”

You laugh, “Uh, vodka’s fine, thank you.”

He hands you a quarter pint and cracks open his own bottle. It’s hard to tell if the reason he winces is from the bite of the liquor or from his hand coming up to feel the staples near his hairline.

Getting hurt was a risk of the job, but it never felt good to see someone get legitimately banged up like that. “How are you feeling?” You ask, as you take a drink, fighting back a cough. For a nice hotel, you’d expected better quality, but it would do well enough.

“Like hell, but…I’ve been worse.”

“Really? Cause you look terrible,” you tease.

He laughs, before grabbing at his rib with a grunt, “Hey, I won, didn’t I? I’ve got the main event of All In, and right now, at this very moment, I’ve got the woman who saved me from a much worse fate sharing a drink with me. What more could I ask for?”

“I didn’t–” taken aback, you pause, denying the implication he’d made, “You didn’t need saving. I-I just—I was trying to keep him from falling back into old habits, is all.”

He shakes his head, taking another drink, free hand fidgeting with that same thread again. “I saw what he asked you to do; you could have finished me right there, but you didn’t.”

And the thing is, he wasn’t wrong. As much as you wanted to pretend there wasn’t, there was another world where you did hit him. Where you took your order like a good soldier and slammed a toolbox against his skull. There was a universe out there somewhere where Swerve took home the belt, the opportunity, and Will got shipped off in another ambulance.

You didn’t ever want to know what that world looked like.

Your voice shakes as you wash the bad thoughts down with the rest of the bottle of vodka. “Why am I here, Will?”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just observing you. The silence stretches and strains until the thread on his pants finally comes free in his grasp and he grins, “Would it surprise you if I said I wanted to kiss you?” Wide eyes flash up to meet him, mouth agape as you search his face for any hint of hesitation, of a lie, a trick, a trap. You’d dreamed of moments like this one too many times to not question it. What if he felt like he owed you something for ‘saving him’? What if he was concussed and didn’t know it and would regret it?

He takes one, two steps toward you, taking your free hand in his. Bringing his whiskey bottle to his lips, he takes a long swig before tossing it, empty, onto the sofa. And when you don’t pull away, he mutters, “Fuck it.” His lips meet yours and goosebumps blossom over your arms. Fingertips float across your skin, rooting in your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you hard against him. It’s pure electricity, blood pounding in your ears, set alight by his touch, by his tongue slipping between your teeth. Your hands slide to his waist, careful not to grip too hard in fear of hitting any bruises or busted ribs.

He hisses against your mouth as you brush against something and you peek down at a patch of mat burn poking out from under his shirt, “Sorry!” Instead, you move that hand up to rest on his chest, feeling the thump-thumping of his heart. “I-I didn’t see–”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be careful; I’m not gonna break.”

His words are so steady, so strong in his conviction that you almost believe him. And so, you let him explore your mouth once more, now with more vigor, the adrenaline spike from the pain doing wonders for his muddled mind. With you, here in his arms, there was something to focus on. No Death Riders. No Swerve. No world titles or Wembley Stadium. Just you and him, and a king sized bed waiting to be broken in. Will briefly considers picking you up and carrying you to the other room, before thinking better of it, shoulder still throbbing; instead, he walks you backwards through the doorway until your calves hit the bed, falling back onto the mattress with a laugh. “Ah–! Wha–what has gotten into you?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about what I want. Where I want to be.” Pressing a knee to the mattress, he cages you in with his arms, one hand holding him above you, the other trailing up under the hem of your shirt. “And every time I close my eyes, it’s you. It’s always you.” His lips meet yours once more, savoring the bite of peppermint gum and vodka lingering on your breath as you gasp, the sudden sensation of his knee sliding between your legs causing you to grind against him mindlessly. Callused fingertips find a scar on your abdomen and he runs a thumb across it, “What’s this from?” Confused laughter bubbles up from your chest; he always got caught up on the smallest things. “You've had it since before we met.”

“Backyard wrestling as a kid.” He slides the fabric up for a better look at the jagged mark, still raised after all these years, like embroidery across your skin. “Some neighborhood kid tried to use an old broom pretending to be Sandman. It snapped and cut me up pretty bad. Never healed quite right.” His expression shifts, and your curious eyes, trained on him, try to figure out just what was going on in that head of his.

“I still can’t believe you helped me tonight.”

You grin half-heartedly, head falling back against the mattress, “Who said I did it for you?” You knew why. But dropping the big L-word seemed a little too intense after the night you’d both had. So instead you just shrug, “Does it really matter why?”

“No, I suppose not, but I appreciate it either way.” Assuaged for the time being, whatever had clouded his mind appears to dissipate; Will’s gaze drags from your scar to meet yours, his eyes a steel blue in the lowlight of the hotel room. Seemingly suddenly aware of his staring, he blinks a few times, and a cockeyed smile and deep, warm blush bloom on his face. “You’re so beautiful,” he pulls away to strip the too-small tank from his back carefully, revealing his own array of bruises and marks and scars. Then, his shaking hands grab the edge of your top, pausing, waiting for your permission.

With a quick nod, he pulls it over your head, revealing your bare chest. He bows his head to press a kiss to your lips, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Feather-light touches. Eager exaltation at the altar of your body. You gasp as his lips reach your chest, dancing around your sensitive skin, before finally latching onto your pert nipple, swirling his tongue around and sucking hard. He switches to the other, giving it the same treatment, though his teeth find purchase this time, making you squirm under his touch. Continuing down, down, down, his fervor grows, carving his claim with pretty, purple marks, leaving a particularly dark one on your hip.

If you’d have known what was in store, you may have dressed up for the occasion, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he looks to you for permission once more. “Please–” you mutter, seeing the reverence behind his eyes flare, fingers curling into your waistband and pulling your shorts down slowly. A flash of embarrassment crosses your mind, thighs squeezing shut as he looks you over. Watching you like his favorite movie. No—more like a hypnotist’s watch. Perhaps he was dedicating the image of you to memory or subconsciously ranking you against other people he’d been with; or maybe his mind was just completely blank, given over entirely to lust. “Will?”

His gaze travels from the softness of your thighs down the length of your leg and back up again, to the silky-soft fabric of your underwear caught between his fingers. Nails trace across the polka dot patterning, to the worn lace trim, teasing ever closer to removing them entirely. It’s infuriating and tantalizing and nerve-wracking for some reason; maybe because you’d known him for so long that all of this just feels too sudden. And you drop from leaning on your elbows to lying flat on your back with nervous giggles, covering your face with your hands.

Will perks up at this, knocked out of his mesmerized state. “Oh,” he laughs breathlessly, climbing back up your body, “come on…don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart.”

“I’m not–! I’m not shy,” you fire back, peeking through your fingers. “I just—I’m not used to being looked at like that.”

His head cocks to the side, genuine confusion on his face, “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to solve a mystery?” You mean it to be a joke, to keep things light. But his expression contorts with something akin to offense and you quickly lift your hand to his cheek, “No–that’s not what I—It’s just this…thing, with your eyes, like you’re analyzing everything all the time.”

His gaze drops to your chest, “Sorry, I–”

“No! Don’t–” you guide his eyes back to yours, thumb running over his bruised cheekbone, “you don’t need to apologize; it’s just the way you are. You wear your emotions on your face, heart on your sleeve. It’s charming…I promise.” Somewhat reassured, his expression softens and leans in to kiss you again. Where at first it was heated and desperate, this one is soft, like star-crossed lovers afraid that just one kiss could destroy everything. Will’s hands caressing you keep you grounded as your thoughts begin to wander, lost in search of what he must be thinking. Your brain: frustrated at your blunder, and your body: longing for more touch, more kissing, more anything; meandering through the darkness of your mind until you feel his hand slip between your bodies. You grind against it seeking more friction, much to his pleasure. This was an image he’d longed to know for nearly a year, that he was starting to believe he’d never get to see. Finally forcing yourself to separate, you mumble against his lips, any nerves or shyness dissolved into pure lust, “Are you gonna fuck me, or what, Ospreay?”

Something sparks inside him, alighting a fire that catches you genuinely off-guard when his head drops to attack your neck and his hand slides under the waistband of your panties. Like that one question was enough to break down some barrier he had built in his mind. Usually ever the gentleman, now giving in to his baser instincts, fueled by a hard-fought victory, some whiskey, and a beautiful person writhing beneath him.

Your hands flounder desperately for purchase, one finding his blood-stained hair and other locking tight around his bicep as teasing fingers explore your pussy. Like a metal detector on a beach, those analytical eyes scan for every minute reaction, every hitch of your breath. When he finally brushes against your clit, you gasp, pulling on his curls hard, which draws a low moan from his lips, “Fuck…”

“I’m sorry–“ your eyes squeeze shut, knowing you should be more careful with his injuries, fighting back that shame that threatens to creep into your mind.

“Stop apologizing,” he grumbles against the hollow of your throat, “and do it again.”

It becomes abundantly clear that he’s no longer interested in drawing this out, pulling you forward to the edge of the bed and taking his place between your knees. His mouth is on you before your underwear has even hit the floor, licking a long stripe up your slit. Will takes one of your legs up over his uninjured shoulder and his bruising grip on your thigh draws you somehow even closer. Face buried in your dripping cunt, he feasts like a madman. Alternating between circling your clit with his tongue and abandoning it to mark up the insides of your thighs is infuriating, playing with your sensitivity like a light switch. On. Off. On. Off. Never letting you get too far along before turning his head to suck another blood red hickey into the muscle of your thigh. After one too many times, you finally arrest him by the hair, just as he’d asked, and press his face firmly against you, “Okay…the teasing was fun at first, but quit fucking around and get to work.”

It’s harsher than you mean to be and you’re worried that it might be too much, but the way he whimpers against you tells another story. When his tongue finally dips inside you, you can’t help but arch off the bed, tugging on his curls hard, causing his movements to stutter. Will recovers as quickly as he can, tongue stroking inside you before switching to suck lightly around your clit. You’re fast to clamp a hand over your mouth, stifling your moans when his suddenly shoots up to pull it away, itching to hear the sounds you made for him. “Let me hear you,” he murmurs, catching his breath, cheek resting on your thigh like a pillow. And when he starts up again, a high-pitched squeak escapes as you struggle to still keep quiet and it makes his already-hard dick twitch in his sweatpants.

Just a little bit more friction and he swears he could come right now, tasting you, listening to the melody of your pleasure. Still, he steadies himself and focuses on bringing you to the edge. You’re so reactive under his touch, his tongue, and he reads you like no one ever has; you don’t have to redirect him, or tell him how you like it. He listens to your body, the way it squeezes around him when he replaces his tongue with his fingers, first one, then a second, and a third when you think you can’t take another, never resting as he laps at your clit. The pit in your stomach tightens as he brings you closer and closer, building a steady pattern that has you practically panting.

Soft praises fall from your lips, and his rhythm breaks again, a shaking groan warming the skin of your inner thigh, before he doubles his efforts. He can feel you getting there, the way your muscles tense, your hips rock against his mouth and hands in small, helpless motions. Fingers thrust inside you as he pulls back to blow a stream of cool air toward your core, sending shivers through your body, before the warmth of his mouth takes over once more. The aching pressure growing inside you finally bursts and you moan loudly as he carries you through your orgasm, drawing every last gasp from your chest and coaxing out every last drop of your release. Will takes to cleaning you with his tongue, stealing glimpses of the breathless, blissed-out look on your face. He swallows everything you give him like he’d die without it, flushed and satiated just enough that he doesn’t dive back in for more. And when he’s done, he climbs back up the bed, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses back up your body before finding your lips again, allowing you to taste yourself.

His voice, ran ragged with need, seems to echo as he presses his lips right below your earlobe, “Did I do good?” It’s stupid, and it sounds so cocky when he says it, and it’s so undeniably Will that you can’t help but laugh.

Delirious giggles burst up out of you as you grab his face with both hands. “You’re kidding, right? You think you’re so smooth…” This time, when you kiss him, he lets you take the lead, the slight-sweetness of you drowning out the last hints of peppermint, “You were perfect.” Loose, limber hands trail up and down your body, slowly moving you both further up the bed. He yanks a pillow down and guides your head forward to slide it under you, “Oh, well, aren’t you sweet?”

“I like to think so,” he teases, as you adjust yourself. Pushing the sweat-dampened hair out of his face, it’s so easy to get lost in his eyes; beautiful blue washed out with lust, pleading desire, silently begging for his own relief. Lifting your knee just high enough to brush against his hardened cock, they flutter shut and his hips buck against you involuntarily. There’s a small wet spot on the front of his pants, and the idea of him coming untouched like a fucking teenager, so pussy-drunk and desperate that he’d blow his load without ever being inside you, threatens to drive you mad.

The hand carding through his hair suddenly tightens its grip, “You gotta tell me what you want, Will… use your words like a good boy.”

The reaction is immediate, a moan from somewhere deep inside him and his forehead drops to meet your chest. Breathing heavily, he grinds against your knee once more, then sighs, like he’s frustrated with himself for lacking self-control. “Can I fuck you? Please…” he hums against your skin.

“Get up,” you instruct gently, patting his arm, “come on.” His movements are sluggish with uncertainty, and when he reaches his feet, you just smile, “No condom, no deal.” And he’s suddenly sent scrambling for his bag, rifling through the front pocket for that little foil package. He turns back eagerly and you chirp, “Hey! Hey, slow down, baby. We got time. I want you to show off for me.” With the raise of his eyebrow, he tosses the condom onto the bed by your foot, and hooks his fingers into his own waistband, sliding it over his hips slowly. He lets your imagination run wild as your gaze trails across the smattering of markings from tonight's match, down his toned stomach and over the valley of his v-lines, leading straight to his cock. It springs out, achingly hard and flushed, a dribble of precum already pooling at the tip.

Will wraps a hand around the shaft and your tongue flits out to wet your lips as you watch him finally find some relief. He sighs through his nose as he pumps himself once, twice, three times before taking a step toward you, only to be stopped by your hand raising in protest. Without saying another word, you simply turn over, onto your hands and knees, bright eyes peeking over your shoulder, beckoning him forward. You can feel the bed dip under his weight as he crawls forward to meet you, distant crinkling of the condom package making you hyperaware of what exactly is about to happen.

Between the feeling of his throbbing cock against your ass and his hand tracing your spine, leaving a line of kisses along it, you can already feel your body beginning to tremble. His voice chimes behind you, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please, just–“ you stop, embarrassed by how much you want this—no—need this. He presses a close as he possibly can without actually being inside you and you groan, frustrated with his teasing. It was fun when it was you, pulling his hair, praising him just to see how he croons, but this just seemed rude at this point.

Will’s hand reaches forward, rooting in the hair at the base of your skull and he tugs, ever so slightly, like he’s trying to gauge how much you like it. And unfortunately, you do, gasping through full, parted lips, leaning higher on your arms, and pressing back against him; and he takes the not-so-subtle hint, yanking your head back farther, earning him a sharp hiss and a squeal.

“You’ve gotta tell me what you want, darling…use your words.” He says it so cloyingly, mimicking the tentative grasp of control you’d held over him, and it cuts something deep in your soul. The part of you that wanted to be good for him. The part of you that wanted him to fuck you so hard that you would forget everything outside of those four walls. To forget about the fury on Swerve’s face. To forget about the image of Will held high on the Death Riders’ shoulders. To not have to worry about what comes after tonight.

And so, with a deep breath, you steady your voice as best you can, necked craned back by his hold on your hair, “I want you to fuck me.” He presses a kiss to the dimple on your lower back and you can feel him smiling.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, callused hand wrapping around your thigh, “That’s my girl.” And any playful resistance still swimming around your mind dissipates instantly. When he releases your hair, you just let your head fall, reaching out and clutching the pillow he’d been so sweet to grab for you. Your back arches low and you feel him nudge your legs wider, teasing the tip of his cock between your folds.

“Fuck, Will, please…” you beg, pressing back against him, and this time, he obliges. Your pussy, still slick with your release and his eager saliva, it doesn’t take much for him to slip inside of you. The relief is immediate, clenching around his length like you were made to take his cock. He’s not much bigger than you’d expected, but the stretch as you slowly take him, inch by inch, is better than anything you could have imagined. And he’s so gentle at first, those analyzing eyes watching over you, thrusts deep and slow as you grow accustomed to him. Will could be patient for you. He wanted to be as good for you as you were for him.

But patience wasn't what you wanted. Not tonight.

Out of nowhere, you demand, through a huffing sigh, “Harder.” He speeds up a little, but it’s clearly not enough, when you send him a look over your shoulder that says, ‘Is that really all you got?’ Dropping to your forearms, you wait for him to go faster, deeper, harder, anything, but he seems… nervous? Almost like he’s afraid of losing control of himself. “I said I wanted you to fuck me,” and when he hesitates again, you insist, using his words from earlier, “You don’t have to be careful, Will; I’m not gonna break.”

Will’s heart pounds against his chest as he sheathes himself fully inside you, resting only for a moment before relenting, picking up his pace and pistoning in and out of you, driving your body forward into the mattress. “Oh–fuck, yes…” you moan, delightfully shocked. His intensity only sharpens your own as one of his hands leaves your leg to push on the center of your back, arching you down further. The soft grunts that escape him feel more animal than man as he gives you everything you’d been begging for; and, for a moment, you wonder if he’s always been like this, or if he was gentler before the surgery—before them.

Thankfully, the thought doesn’t have time to grow roots as he drives a little too deep and you yelp, burying your face in the pillow. He doesn’t slow down, though you feel his thrusts become shallower, and the noises he makes become louder. It seems like he’s getting close and you want to be right there with him, so you sacrifice some of your stability to reach between your legs and find your clit. The first touch sends shockwaves through your body, lingering overstimulation from his skilled mouth set off like fireworks.

The sudden sensation causes you to squeeze tight around him and Will knows he won’t last; though, thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait much longer. Your deft fingers know exactly how you like to be touched, and you bring yourself to the brink quickly. In spite of his aching shoulder, Will scoops an arm under you and, with a near inhuman strength, he pulls you up against his chest, the new angle hitting that spot inside you so perfectly that you’re driven completely breathless. “Come on darling, give it to me,” he hums. Your free hand reaches back to steady yourself against him, and he has an arm wrapped around your stomach, the other tangled in your hair, pulling just the way you like, and you finally tip over the edge, with a shaking moan that, in hindsight, was almost certainly heard by the neighbors. He whimpers against the soft skin of shoulder as he comes a few seconds after, grip tightening just shy of discomfort before he lowers you gently back down to the mattress.

The moment your head hits the pillow, you’re certain you could fall asleep just like that, with him still buried inside of you. And if you were more aware of yourself, you likely would be embarrassed by the mewling sound you make when he pulls out. Will disappears for a moment, disposing of the condom and going to get a rag, and when he returns, you’ve already turned over to your back, breathing heavily, so pliant as he spreads your legs and cleans you up. He speaks to you softly, though the words don’t quite meet your ears. But it’s sweet-sounding and you smile lazily at him.

When the feeling in your limbs returns, and your mind begins to clear, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. All at once, it hits you. The light above the mirror is oppressive and a rush of AC from the air vent chills you to your bones. You wash your face in the sink and, for a brief moment, your reflection seems wrong. The scar that had captured Will’s attention earlier… had it always been so big? The hickey he’d left on your hip… hadn’t that been on the other side? Everything just feels… wrong, and you turn around, silently making your way back to the bed. Will’s already waiting, in a pair of clean boxers, the covers flung open, for you, and sliding in next to him fills you with a warmth that quickly curdles in your stomach.

Why does nothing feel right anymore? A moment of pure ecstasy so easily exchanged for a swirling vortex of doubt that plagues your mind. He curls up on his side, the weight of the day dragging him quickly down to sleep, but your eyes stay locked on a water stain on the ceiling.

One of the nicest hotel rooms you’d ever stayed in and there’s a water stain on the ceiling…

With nothing but the light of a small lamp in the other room casting shadows, the stain begins to shift and change from an amorphous blob to an all-too-familiar shape. The haunting stare of an owl. Will’s words echo around your skull like a clanging gong: “I’ve just been thinking a lot about what I want. Where I want to be.”

That’s what Moxley asked him back in April… wasn’t it? Your stomach lurches again, a sick, churning feeling that you can’t quite push away.

“I saw what he asked you to do; you could have finished me right there, but you didn’t.”

You could have. Hell, maybe you should have. Will hadn’t just fallen into the deep end with the Death Riders, he’d dived in head first. Maybe losing the match would have convinced him it wasn’t worth trading his morality for some stupid title. No. It wasn’t just a title. It was his dream.

And your response, “Who said I did it for you?”

Turning your head to steal a glance at his near-sleeping form, your heart aches, knowing, deep down, that you would likely only ever have him in fleeting moments like these. Quick, desperate hook-ups when you’re both so pent up that anything would be enough to satisfy you. Because you couldn’t stay, not as long as he was one of them.

It hurt too much to stay.

You sit back up slowly, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, on auto-pilot, grabbing your underwear from the floor and tugging them on. Will begins to stir, turning over with a haggard, sleepy look on his face, disoriented, as you continue, pulling on your shorts, “Where are you going?”

“I, um–I should get going.”

“What?” he grunts, sitting up slightly; you can’t bring yourself to look at him as your shirt slides over your head, “Just—come back to bed.”

“I can’t, uh–” you sniffle, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. As you go to leave something stops you, like a forcefield in the doorway: the Owen Hart belt mocking you across the room, and the first tear drops when you finally see it. A small patch with those two dreaded words and those eyes from the ceiling staring back at you. Yours squeeze shut as Will calls you back again—‘whatever was going on, you could figure it out in the morning, together’—and when you open them again, the patch is still there, the final nail in a coffin you’d been fighting so hard to keep open.

Just as he goes to get out of bed, he’s stopped as you turn, watery eyes meeting watery eyes as he seems just on the verge of crying as you are. One driven by conviction, the other: confusion. “That match tonight,” you start, swiping at phantom tears, “It was just another stepping stone for him. But this…this is your dream, and I don’t think I could live with myself knowing that I kept you from getting there.” Exhaustion, concern, and something bordering on fear mix on his face and you clarify, “You wanted to know why I did it. That’s why.”

“Please, darling.. stay–” With a shuddering intake of breath, you muffle your sob in your palm, the image of Will hoisted high on their shoulders burned into the back of your eyelids. It was becoming clear to you that your love alone wouldn't be enough to keep him on the right path, and, for the first time since April, when he first made ties with the Death Riders, you’re able to remind yourself that it is not your job to make him a good man.

“I can’t. Because I don’t think you’re the same man I fell in love with anymore.”

Quiet, tearful protests ring in your ears as you turn on your heel, grabbing your duffel and your sandals before your hand touches the doorknob, hanging your head with a quiet ‘Fuck!…’ Another sniffle. Some more tears. You steel yourself, speaking just loudly enough that you know he can hear you, “Congratulations, Will. I really hope it’s all worth it in the end.”

And the soft clicking of the hotel door puts an end to it all, leaving you both in uneasy silence.

[batzkizz]

should I start making fanfics 🥹

i really got the idea to start making mj smut if you guys like the idea, give me some ideas. I will do jermajesty or jaafar too!!

[frost-queen]

What fire reveals (Reader x Sokka)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic  , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve  , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly    @denkisclown, @wildieflower  , @meyocoko , @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23  , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr   , @swampthing07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat    , @rosecentury   ,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn   , @niktwazny303  , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @sweetheartlizzie07

Summary: You are a superb fighter that doesn't need saving, yet that doesn't stop Sokka from wanting to protect you. Leading to some bickering and arguments. When Kyoshi islands get's invaded, Sokka confesses why he wants to protect you. Leading you to accept it even though his timing could be better.

A flock of birds flew up from the trees. It made you look up, sensing something was up. Sokka noticed that your attention was elsewhere. He moved a bit closer to you, touching your elbow. – “What is it?” – he whispered, still eyeing his sister and Aang a bit. You pulled out tiny knives from your belt as it made Sokka take a step back, blinking wonderous at you. – “They are here.” – you only said, having a sense the fire nation was close.

Having followed you all to Kyoshi island. It appeared no where was save. – “The village.” – Sokka breathed out with worry, looking down. He stumbled back when he saw a blast of fire come in contact with one of the buildings. – “Stay here!” – Sokka ordered getting in motion. He paused seeing you follow him. – “I was talking about you Y/n.” – he said with a quirked up brow.

You puffed loud. – “You can’t stop me.” – you replied annoyed. Sokka groaned frustrated that you wouldn’t listen. – “Go!” – Katara called out. – “I’ll protect Aang. Sokka, take Y/n with you. You’ll need her.” – Katara finished, bossing her brother around. Sokka wanted to contradict that, but seeing that scold of his sister made him groan.

Katara ushered him away as you were already running down the hill. Sokka easily caught up with you, already with his weapon in his hand. – “Stay close.” – he said nearing the village. – “I can’t predict where I will end up!” – you responded as you had no control over it. – “At least try!” – he called out seeing the flames on the roofs. You groaned bothered a way of letting him know you would try your best.

Sokka and you arrived at the village, eyes widening at the havoc. Fire benders going after the villagers. Most of them running away and screaming in agony. Fire benders kicked over baskets and lighting up the houses. A few of them spotted you and Sokka. They slowly walked up to you, hands burning with fire. You tensed your hands around the little knives in your hands. Sokka exhaled anticipating for that first strike that he needed to block.

He swallowed nervously, glancing briefly at you. A blast of fire went your way as you moved your arms up, stopping the fire with the armour around your wrists. You then threw your knives at the soldier, hitting him in both legs. The soldier cried it out, hands trembling over the knives in his legs.

With trembling hands he pulled them out, throwing them annoyed at the ground. Sokka’s eyes widened seeing the rage in his eyes. He tackled you to the ground just as the fire blast flew over your head. Grunting, you rolled with him over the ground. – “Sokka!” – you called out as he laid on top of you. – “Leave the taunting to someone else.” – he made clear. You noticed the same soldier coming closer.

It made you push Sokka off you, jumping up to your feet. He send another fire blast at you, making you dodge it easily. Eyeing the building beside you, you ran over to it. Jumping up to set yourself off the wall, punching your fist on his cheek. The soldier stumbled to the ground as your feet found ground again. Sokka had gotten up punching his weapon in another soldier’s stomach. 

Sokka looked over his shoulder to you, seeing you easily tackle a fire bender to the ground. Sokka’s eyes widened again seeing another fire bender approach from the side. – “Y/n!” – he called out wanting to run in for help. With just a brief glance, you threw a little knife at him. It hit him in the shoulder, setting him off guard. You then kicked on a speer that laid over a basket. The speer twirled in the air as you caught it with one hand up.

Swiping the speer across, the soldier got swooped off his feet, falling down. You were about to hit him in the face when a boomerang took you by surprise. The soldier got knocked on his helmet. The helmet moved a bit up as the soldier fell back. The boomerang returned to his owner, making you glare at Sokka. – “I had him!” – you let out annoyed. – “A thank you would be welcome.” – Sokka replied with a sneer.

Puffing loud, you took a run for it, going over to assist a helpless villager. Sokka wanted to go after you but a fire bender stopped him. He punched his weapon against him. Then another one joined as he grabbed Sokka from behind, throwing an arm over his throat. It was briefly as Sokka felt his grip falter on him. Grasping for air, he looked to see the fan return to Suki.

He gave her a nod as Suki nodded back. Sokka had lost his sight on you for a moment, looking around worriedly. He would do anything to protect you. Even though you didn’t really need to. He just felt compelled to do so. His gaze fell on you running over the rooftops, setting yourself off as you jumped. – “Oh come on!” – Sokka blurted out at your boldness as you jumped on a few soldiers that had regrouped.

Exhaling loud, you moved some hair out of your face. – “Hi.” – you casually said within the group. One of them, clearly a figure of authority looked questionable at you. The soldiers around you slowly circling around you to close you in. – “Where is the Avatar?” – he asked, hands behind his back. – “Who?” – you answered dumbfound. Clearly your answer didn’t humour him. – “Seize her!” – he ordered. The soldiers jumped at you, grabbing for your arms for control. You grabbed one by the arm, pulling him around till you made him crash into another one.

There was a grip on your wrist, making you lift your head up with a snap and a soft gasp. Grabbing his wrist as well, you ripped it off, turning around, twirling under his arm as you then kicked him in the back. A soldier grabbed you from behind, locking your arms to your back. – “The Avatar!” – Commander Zhao called out wanting an answer out of you. You smirked. He thought he had the upper hand, but he was wrong. – “The Avatar, where is he girl!” – he grabbed you by the collar raising his fist at you.

You spitted at Commander Zhao as it made him stumble a bit back. Eyes closed in disgust as he wiped your spit off his cheek. Now you had him where you wanted him. Leaning a bit back, you set your feet ready. Your foot swept up ready to hit Commander Zhao in his face when someone came in your vision. Another person blocking your move as you kicked them in the face instead.

Sokka groaned in pain, dropping to the ground. – “Sokka!” – you called out. Sokka tried to get up to his feet as the man behind you, held you tighter in his lock. – “Are you insane?” – you shouted at him for putting you in an even worse position. Sokka got pulled up to his feet, held by a soldier. You saw a thin line of blood under his nose from where you had kicked him. – “I wanted to save you!” – he yelled back at you, ignoring the soldiers around him.

As if they weren’t there. – “I had it under control!” – you answered frustrated at him. – “I didn’t need your saving.” – you made clear. – “I don’t care!” – Sokka shouted back trying to wiggle himself free. – “No matter what, I want to protect you Y/n!” – he said as Commander Zhao interfered. – “Where is the Avatar?” – he wanted to know. – “Get lost!” – Sokka cursed at him for interfering.

He didn’t care at all for him, only you. – “I can fend for my own.” – you told Sokka. – “I know!” – Sokka responded sarcastically. – “I’m sorry am I interrupting your little tea session?” – Zhao said with a mocking undertone, gesturing at the both of you. – “Yes!” – Both Sokka and you yelled at him to shut him up. Zhao gritted his teeth being told off by a bung of teenagers. – “Don’t you understand Y/n, I always want to protect you because I like you!” – Sokka confessed being able to pull himself a bit closer to you.

Your expression softened, smiling back at him. – “Alright protect me.” – you answered as Sokka’s eyes widened a bit. – “You mean right now?” – he whispered to you. You hummed loud. – “You can do it Sokka, save us.” – you replied reassuring. Sokka swallowed nervously. He made an attempt that failed miserably. He got punched in the stomach, doubling over as he coughed loud. – “How much do you like me Sokka?” – you casually asked still being held by the soldier.

“A lot.” – Sokka coughed out trying to stand again. You smiled again. – “Good.” – you whispered stepping on the soldiers foot hard. You then smacked the back of your head against his nose. He stumbled back as the other fire benders got in action. One moved his arm forwards, blasting fire. You ducked down, re-appearing at his side. Grabbing his arm, you punched his armpit.

He winced from the pain as you elbowed him in the face. Zhao wanted to send fire to you as Sokka got up, throwing himself at Zhao. They both stumbled to the ground. Sokka called it out as he punched him against his chest. Zhao puffed out air. Sokka’s eyes widened when Zhao was about to attack him.

You pulled  him back by the back of his shirt, letting him fall on his back. You then set your foot on Zhao’s chest before he could rise again. Sokka had gotten up as he looked briefly confused when a fan flew past him. Suki and some Kyoshi warriors came to your aid. Sokka grabbed your hand, pulling you back. You stumbled against his chest, feeling a bit flustered.

The Kyoshi warriors fought the fire benders. One of the warriors bumped against Sokka making him self aware of his surroundings again. Sokka and you turned back to back, fighting off the fire benders. His weapon hit them repeatedly. You were with your back beside Sokka, trying to keep a bender at bay. Sokka’s eyes widened seeing Zhao had risen. His expression angered.

He moved his fist back to release a punch of flames towards you. Sokka gasped taking the fan of Suki who fought on his other side. She furrowed her brows confused at her sudden empty hand. You turned your head. Eyes widening as you saw the fire blast come your way. Then your vision was partly blocked by Sokka. He had come in front of you, swaying the fan aside as it deflected the fire.

He then flicked his wrist, throwing the fan at Zhao. It hit him in the head. The fan bounced off his head as it flung back. Suki catching it. Sokka was panting, turning around to you. You shook your head worriedly approaching him. Grabbing him by his shirt, you pressed your lips against his. Kissing him strong-willed. Once the shock wore off, he positioned him more casual, placing his hands on your hip as he joined your kiss.

“Kiss later, fight more!” – Suki called out interrupting the moment. Sokka and you stopped. He was smiling goofily at you, making you teasingly push his cheek aside. Sokka chuckled flustered. – “Anytime now.” – Suki groaned out trying to break the fire benders grip off her. Sokka and you nodded, joining the fight to defend Kyoshi island from the fire benders.  

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