#and when they're *finally* happy all the bloody drama comes right back again - i can see the writing flinging itself from a cliff

[silv-paru]

FUCK CANON ALL MY HOMIES HATE CANON

[geminil0vr]

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 !

the masterlist -> part two

summary ✰ your relationship with your boyfriend, ben, has been a little (a lot) rocky from the start. back from a session of him not even trying to help you finish, you run into pansy in your dorm room, and it's safe to say she has some suspicions.

tags ✰ @partr1dge <3

wc ✰ 1.7k

content ✰ fake moaning, toxic relationship, a little smut, sexual themes galore, cumming (not just yet for our dear reader), (constant) mentions of shitty sex experiences, lying, endless cursing, reader is h word, getting dressed, mentions of homework (this one should be classified as a warning), snooping/stealing

a/n ✰ this is pretty much just a short intro, some backstory and all that !! i hope you like it. and be careful, past the read more it pretty much goes directly into some smut/sexual themes. okay, happy reading :))

with a few final thrusts, your boyfriend comes inside you, quickly pulling out and rolling next to you on the bed. you laid there, as usual, fake moaning, pushing back onto him. and he went quick, not doing anything to make you feel good, and pulling out before you've even come (though, when the only thing he does is piston in and out of you like a personal fleshlight, that's unlikely to happen). this is how all your sex happens, usually.

ben turns to smile at you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. "did you cum?"

ha, did you fuck. he's not even done foreplay. "yeah! like, twice. didn't you notice?"

you've found that the only way to entertain yourself is by making even more outlandish statements each time you fuck. well, he fucks you. well — no, it isn't really fucking. he actually has the nerve to ask why you make him use lubrication every time... perhaps it's because he refuses to eat you out, or even play with your clit for more than fifteen seconds, or finger you to prepare you. in the early days, he tried, and you repeatedly went to tell him what you liked. and, not enjoying being told what to do, he did it how he wanted, and now consistently leaves you in a confused state of 'how can i be so horny when he did the bare minimum?'. ben calls it domination. you call it ignorance.

another way you've found to entertain yourself, is by making sex a performance. see, when you first started off, you were a virgin, and although well-educated on sex and the things you might like, you didn't feel inclined to fake anything. now, you've been with ben for around six months, but in your first one he put up this façade of a romantic, so you had gone and fallen (tripped, stumbled, collapsed, grazed your fucking knee) for him. you'd fallen for roses, and dates, and... well, that was it. your standards were pretty low back then — christ, you were sixteen! and when you two finally did anything, two months into the relationship (despite his relentless begging), the glass window was shattered.

ben is selfish. once you sucked his dick, and let him fuck you (the definition of fuck is still on thin ice, really), the romance came around less often. you thought it was just a typical couple thing. you mean, your past relationships lasted about a month or two. you thought this was the average.

until your friends, well, they got boyfriends and girlfriends, and now they're always grinning, and they have little spats that are easily resolved with communication, and they're in love. and the way they speak about sex, merlin, it's like a fantasy out of some erotica book. 'he did this', 'she did that', 'it felt so good', 'it's like they know exactly what i want'. so when your friends turned to you about your sex life, you put all your walls up, and you told them some phoney story about how he's your best lay (... your one lay) and how he's so bloody good at taking care of you.

you still feel bad for lying to them. but it's been four months, now. you don't want to go back, not that they would be mad at you, but you're almost embarrassed about how long you've stayed. you know they'll make you break up with him, considering what an arse he is in and out of the bedroom, and you're scared to get into drama, and you're scared he'll be upset, and you're scared that a little part of you still clings onto your old, false perception of him, so you stay. you know it isn't healthy. but you stay.

and you make sex the greatest show of your life, you arch your back, you moan, you gasp, you refrain from telling him that when he cups your breast it feels like nothing, you curl your toes, you remain submissive. in bed, you're a porn star of a very vanilla, one-man show. and you give yourself a five-star fucking rating. of course, you only started this when you realised he would never listen to you. ben just reckons he's got really good in bed all of a sudden.

"you alright?" ben is already in his trousers, buttoning up his school shirt. you're still in only your bra on the bed. 'course, no aftercare.

"yeah, sorry, dazed off." hurrying to get dressed, you kiss him on the cheek (he doesn't like kissing on the lips once he's come in your mouth) and rush to your dorm, tie hanging underneath your collar. class is in forty minutes. when you two started, you were five minutes into a free hour.

the slytherin common room is moderately empty, most people being in class already or making use of their free hour, and when you drag your shoes all the way to your dorm room, you definitely don't expect to see pansy parkinson flipping through a magazine on top of her emerald duvet.

see, you've known pansy since first year. she isn't much involved in the slytherin girl group, but she gets along quite well with everyone, sometimes participating in sleepovers if she feels like it, and always cracking clever and bitter jokes. pansy's a nice girl, though relatively bitchy with the gryffindors, and you quite like her, and she quite likes you. it's a mutual agreement, you say 'hello' in the mornings, and she'll ask you for a quill from time to time, and you'll hand it to her, and when you two are drunk out of your minds you do challenges to see who can drink the most, in your dorm room, as all your other friends giggle and watch on. it's a good, solid, friendship, albeit not super close.

and just as you would feel with any friend, your dishevelled appearance (undone tie, messy hair from your 'performance', untucked shirt) immediately embarrasses you as you stand in the doorway.

"oh. hi, pansy." you give a tight smile, shutting the door behind you and going to do your tie, before giving up because, well, you're shite at doing ties, and tossing it on your bed. "what're you still doing here?"

she's not stopped eyeing you since you came in. "gee, lovely to see you too, y/n. and, couldn't be bothered to socialise. draco's being a dick." she looks over your appearance critically, raising a sharp brow. "had fun? good lay?"

"y—es. 'course." you swallow, diverting your attention to your school bag, attempting to disguise the fact that you certainly did not have fun. nor a good lay; couldn't be more the opposite, actually. well, you were lying down?

she pauses, clenching her jaw before tossing the magazine to the side and narrowing her eyes, one leg crossed over the other, arms crossed over her chest. head tilted. lips parted. "you okay, there?"

taking a deep breath, you kick your shoes off and turn around with a gentle smile, passing a comb through your hair. "yeah, why?"

"just, you look more like you've been dragged through a bush than been fucked." her face is completely blank, and your cheeks grow hot from her crude vocabulary, but nonetheless you chuckle. looking down, you notice that one of your thigh high socks is rolled to your mid-calf. thank god the hallways from the ravenclaw tower to the dungeons, and your common room, were pretty much empty when you walked through.

you roll it back up and begin tucking in your shirt. referencing to your sock, you grin. "stylistic change. and yeah. ben, well, he's quite the animal in bed." more like a tortoise. not because of speed, but have you seen how they mate?

"hmm." she hums, tucking a strand of short black hair behind her ear, and nodding before picking back up her drama magazine to look over different pages as you quietly put your clean clothes away. a comfortable silence settles in the room while you take the time to get out your homework, sitting on your bed and correcting a few of your grammar mistakes. it's a long while before pansy speaks again, not looking up from the pages. "gilderoy lockhart still hasn't got back his memory."

"awful shame," you smirk, finishing up your work and putting it away before bounding over to her four-poster bed. sitting down, you fold one leg under the other that remains firmly planted on the carpet. your eyes gloss over the painfully colourful magazine with wizard celebrities plastered all over it, "tell me, why do you read such trashy things?"

"found it in daphne's drawer." she shrugs, rifling through some more pages.

"you went through daphne's drawer?"

"was bored. 's not really interesting in there." pansy deadpans, "doesn't even have any sex toys." then she grins cheekily, pearly whites on display. you suck at your teeth and shake your head in amusement, chuckling and getting up.

"dickhead. put it back before she notices!" you exclaim.

"alright, then." she rolls her eyes playfully, and bounces up, smoothing out her short, school skirt and slipping the magazine back into daphne greengrass' bedside table.

with only ten minutes to get to your transfiguration class, you start to clean up your appearance, leaving just the top button of your shirt undone and attempting to do your tie. pansy slips on her high-top converse (mcgonagall will have her head for that), doing the laces and glancing over at you every few seconds as your fingers fumble with your dark green tie. how many years at hogwarts, and you still can't do it right? you squint in the mirror hung up on the wall, once more wrapping the thicker part of the tie around the thinner part, tucking it under, making a loop, tucking the — wait, how did it go again?

"here, let me do it, since you're so bloody incapable." pansy storms over, exasperated from watching you fail, grabbing you by your shoulders to twist you around and taking matters into her own hands. she does it expertly, because of course, she's a pureblood, and purebloods just have to be bloody good at everything. tightening it up just a little, she folds down your collar and smooths her fingers over your shirt, before coming up behind you and getting up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around your shoulders and make sure the tie is well situated. you hold in a breath as her fingers brush against your neck — really, that dumbarse boyfriend of yours leaving you high and dry makes everything get you worked up.

finally, pansy works some of her fingers through your hair, smoothing out the messy strands framing your face and placing her hands firmly on your shoulders. "perfect." and she's gone, grabbing her bag and swinging out the room before you can even utter a 'thank you'.

[luminescencechatoyant]

Summary Ellie is nothing like her on screen character, neither is Pete Dunne.

Word Count 2594

everything that sounds like its made up, it probably is. If its really all rights reserved to the company's mentioned, Tyler is 21 BC I forgot how young he was until halfway through writing oops

ekayyla, tumblr.com

Ellie was nothing like her on screen persona, her character was the nicest, sweetest character Ellie had ever seen on the WWE and Ellie wasn't. Ask her friend and she'd describe her as an arsehole, Ellie just liked to think she was closed off. She didn't like people and if she didn't have to talk to them, she wouldn't - simple as that, not hard to understand really.

She hadn't come to the WWE to make friends, she hadn't started wrestling to make friends - she wrestled because she had terrible anger management and her therapist told her to. That's what she told people anyway, truth was she absolutely admired Lita growing up. All she ever wanted in life was to be as badass as her and not take anyones shit. Growing up in an countless foster homes, she was meek and quiet and never spoke unless spoken to, until she realized she didn't have to.

She talked back, she argued and if they still didn't see her point, she fought harder. She fought for everything other kids had handed to them, she fought to be respected. And who else was a highly respected but still badass woman? Lita.

She'd met her once when a particularly nice foster carer had noticed how much she liked to watch wrestling and bought meet and greet tickets. Ellie cried when the mother told her, she cried and she bawled. She was so happy.

So she met Lita, told her how she grew up in foster homes loving her and Lita smiled, hugged the tiny nine year old and signed her shirt with a stay strong, ellie scribbled on the front. She loved that shirt like she loved her foster mom, until the Alabama bush fires took her shirt and her foster mom. Ellie didn't smile for a year afterwards.

Abusive foster parents and a rough childhood left Ellie hostile to the world, she fought when she could, girls and boys behind the school, behind the diner on the corner near her house, anywhere.

It wasn't until she was fifteen that the school therapist suggest she find an outlet for all her anger, she tried soccer, football, hell, she even tried dancing. Nothing worked until the therapist told her about the new wrestling school opening up on the better side of town.

Ellie hadn't watched wrestling since she lost her foster mom and she spiraled out of control, standing on the steps of the wrestling studio had her heart hammering in her chest and hands shaking like a leaf. It wasn't until another girl near her saw how nervous she looked, took her by the hand and gently guided her into the gym.

Maria had been a few years older than her and already wrestling for a few years until her parents had relocated to Ellie's small town. Whenever her panic attacks would flare up or Ellie needed a hand with moves, Maria was there with a guiding hand and a calm voice. Whenever Maria had boy problems or girls were harrasing her, Ellie was at her back or standing by to give out hugs, something she didn't particularly like doing but it was Maria and she deserved her hugs.

So on Ellie's 16th birthday. Maria and her parents surprised her with a party and a certificate of adoption. She cried, hugged Maria and her parents, hugged the few people that came from the wrestling gym and cried again.

Eight years later, Maria and Ellie debuted on NXT and not two months later, Maria was the new NXT Womens Champion and Ellie had yet to be pinned. She'd had plenty of count-outs and disqualifications but she still hadn't been pinned until she'd aligned herself with British Strong Style.

Trent Seven, Tyler Bate and Pete Dunne were absolutely lethal in the ring and out. Seven and Bate were two of the most welcoming people she'd met in the company, her personality just clicked with theirs right from the start.

Pete Dunne was nothing like his on screen persona, yeah he's an arse, but hes never standoff-ish like his character. Ellie would rather describe him as sweet, since she'd met him he'd done nothing but try to get her to open up to him. He'd bring her coffee in the mornings and drop her home when Maria couldn't, it had taken her three weeks of being an arse for Maria to slap her around the head and tell Ellie not to be so rude.

She tried not to from then on, she thanked Pete for the coffee, invite him inside for a cup of tea after he'd drop her home and eventually it evolved into more. On free days, she'd invite him over to watch a movie and they'd cuddle on the lounge.

Pete started to ask her over for dinner, her and Maria were invited to nights out with the boys, gym sessions were mandatory and afterwards the boys would share their vegan pizza.

Ellie couldn't help herself, she started to fall for the Bruiserweight with a heart of gold. It killed her to watch him dance with girls when they went out, but she did, she turned around with a smile because all she wanted was for him to be happy. If it wasn't with her, fair enough it wasn't with her - but he was happy and that made her happy.

"C'mon love," Trent's voice echoed through Maria and Ellie's apartment, "If you don't hurry up we'll miss our booking!"

"Bowling lanes don't wait for wrestlers!" Ellie snorted when Tyler yelled out, he'd taken the joke baby of the group literally - It was a rare sight not to see him joking around.

"I'm coming! Don't get your knickers in a twist." Nora bounced down the stairs and waved her arms extravagantly when she hit the bottom, "Ta-da!"

"It took you that long to get dressed..." Trent hesitated, "...into that?"

Nora glanced down at her shirt and jeans with a frown, "I think I look fine."

"Pete likes it when you dress up." Tyler, the non stop voice of wisdom, spoke from where he was slouched on her coach.

"We're going bowling," Nora said plainly, Trent flicked any eyebrow up with out a word, "Fine, fine! I'll get changed."

She walked down five minutes later with the same shirt on, only tucked into a leather skirt, "Happy?"

Trent nodded with a smile, "Let's get out of here."

"Finally!" Trent sighed, rolling off the couch and hobbling out the door like a old man.

"You're nineteen, you bloody drama queen!" Trent snorted and followed him out the door.

It doesn't take them long to get the address Pete texted through and when they find their lane, Pete and Maria have cold beers waiting for them. Tyler downs half of his in one go and throws himself into a chair, Ellie rolls her eyes and slips into the chair next to Pete.

"Thanks guys, how was the meet and greet?" Ellie asks as she sips her drink.

"It was great," Pete's eyes flick up from Ellie's leg, "The fans were amazing as always."

"Oh, El -" Maria jumps in her seat and starts to dig through her bag and Pete gets up to start the game, "- there was this one little girl that wanted me to give you this."

She hands over a tiny bead bracelet with ELLIE ROCKS spelt out on it. Its bright yellow and doesn't match her outfit at all, but she slips it over her wrist anyway because her fan made her this. They poured their heart into it, she snaps a photo to upload twitter later so she can find the parent and send her a shirt.

"Your turn love!" Pete hollers from the point screen and gesture at the lane.

"Don't laugh at me, guys," she says as she slips her bowling shoes on, "I haven't bowled in years."

"You'll do fine, " Pete says as she grips the ball uncertainly, he see the uncertainty on her face and smiles softly, "Here, I'll give you a hand."

His large hand comes to rest on her elbow and straightens it while the other one sits on her lower back, a glance back at the group shows none of them paying attention but when she look back at Pete his face is inches from hers. Her breath catches when his eyes flicker own to her lips but then he steps away and she's left reeling.

"All you gotta do now is throw the ball down the lane." Pete tells her, his voice low, and then turns to sit with their friends.

She turns her back to them and stares a the lane, what the fucking fuck? She shakes her head and swings her arm, closes her eyes and just hopes for the best. The ball slams into the wood with a loud crack and not a second later sinks into the gutter, her second go is not much better and she turns back to the group with a shy smile.

"Told you I was no good -" she stops and eyes her friends, they're obviously trying to hide their laughter and Pete's face is bright red, "...what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, hun." Maria stands up to take her go and whisper into Ellie's ear as she passes, "Pete was a bit too interested  in watching you bowl."

She dumbfounded for a moment before she realizes that Pete was sitting directly behind her, he had a perfect eyeful of her being over. She stifles a giggle at his slowly fading red cheeks and pats his hand, "Get a good look, Dunne?"

He frowns as Seven and Bate laugh loudly, ignoring her in favor of his beer. Ellie watches as Maria bowls a strike and lays her head on Pete's shoulder, "Sorry for teasing."

Pete shifts and drops his shoulder for her to lean on more comfortably, "All good, love."

"Were you really staring at my are?" Ellie asks as she traces pattern on Pete's bare arm that's resting softly on her  thigh.

"...yeah."

"Pete!" She laughs and nudges his arm off of her, but he catches her hand and bring it up to his lips.

He brushes a soft kiss against her knuckles and stares evenly into her eyes, "Its a very nice arse, love."

"Pete!" Trent hollers, "You're up, mate."

Pete drops her hand into her lap and moves to take his turn, Ellie watches him walk away until Maria plops into the open seat. "What was all that?"

"C'mon," Ellie pulls maria our of her seat and towards the bar, "I need another drink."  

"Wait, what happened?" Maria stumbles behind her and watches as Ellie's head slumps into her hands at the bar.

"I have it so, so bad for Pete." Ellie groans from behind her hands.

"Well, duh."

Ellie glances up at her from between her fingers and snorts, "I shouldn't even surprised that you already know."

"Is it that obvious?" She sighs as they collect their drinks.

"Yeah, I mean-" she hesitates, "I don't know if Pete knows but he's usually pretty clued on when it come to these things. He knew Peyton and I liked each other before we did."

"El! Its your turn!"

Ellie sighs and orders another round for the boys, the waitress is quicker with these ones and they carry them back to the boys. Pete's eyes follow Ellie as she sets the drinks down and grabs her ball, she swallows nervously and glances back at him, winks slowly and bends to take her shot.

She bowls a strike and turns back to the group smugly, "Someones gonna catch up."

Tyler rolls his eyes, "She's gonna be a sore winner, isn't she?"

"Always is, kid." Trent barks a laugh when Tyler's face falls.

They keep bowling until Tyler wins, smugly throwing his arms up and parading around with a toy wrestling belt he'd smuggled in for the winner. Ellie laughs and gives him a high five because she may be a sore winner, she's not a sore loser.

They wander over to the arcade and avoid the sea of children surrounding the kids toys. Ellie laughs as her and Maria fail spectacularly at Dance, Dance, Revolution, pouts childishly when Trent's demolishes her at buck hunting-

("Its not fair, you cheated!"

"...its buck hunting, El. How am I possibly able to cheat at it?"

"I don't know but you did, anyway.")

And laughs like a hyena when she beats Tyler's record at PacMan, who vows to never leave the machine until he beats her record,

(Trent and Maria pull him away five minutes later.)

Ellie wanders around the arcade until she finds Pete lazily throwing basketballs in the back of the arcade, she's stopped for a moment when she sees his arms flex in his singlet. She leans up against the side and tries to keep her eyes from ogling his arms, it doesn't work very well but Pete hasn't complained yet.

"I bet you I can sink all of these balls." Pete wages as he stuff another token into the machine and watches the balls drop.

"What's the wager?" Ellie's asks and settles on the seat of a motorbike game next to him.

"A kiss." He says, she eyes his face and sees not one trace of humour.

"Here?" She glances around, "Pete, there's kids everywhere."

"We'll find somewhere."

He's dead serious and she figures it can't hurt, he won't sink them all. "Fine."

Oh, how wrong she was. As soon as the words left her mouth, Pete turned and sunk the first ball, followed by the second, then the third and another after that. She can't watch, she closes her eyes and listens to the swish after swish until the buzzer sounds and she's jerked out of her seat. She briefly notices the 30/30 on the machine before Pete pull her from the arcade, hurries out of the building and has her pressed against the side of the building in minutes.

His lips press against her roughly, leaving a scorching trail of heat when they brush. Their teeth knock, their lips bite and hands grab everything they can, hers are grabbing his shirt, his are sliding down to her thighs before she's lifted and pressed against the wall harder. Rough hands press under her shirt and along her ribcage, she arches into his touch and -

"You have to return those shoes! They're property of the - oh."

- flinches away as the shoe loan worker swings around the corner. Pete drops her quickly and she blushes as she fixes her shirt. The shoes are pulled off and Pete and Nora are left standing in the shadows with socks on.

"Go home, kids."

They mumble apologies and flee to Pete's car where Nora pulls their shoes out of her bulging bag, she laughs airily and leans against the hood of Pete's car. "Well, that was fun."

Pete smirks and arches an eyebrow, "Fun? I just had a heart attack!"

"Don't be a wimp." She laughs and runs her hand over his shoulder. He catches her around the waist and draws her closer to him, pressing her between him and the car.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" He asks as he brushes his lips against hers.

"Hell, yes."