Dom Drabble Collection: A series of requests for ‘some kinky, rough, spanking, Dom’ Roman Reigns, Jeff Hardy, Baron Corbin, Pete Dunn, Aleister Black
Sister in Arms: Finn can’t seem to shake the effects of his feud with Bray Wyatt, so an old friend comes to help. Then Y/N finds herself battling on two fronts: in the ring and in her mind. [Series Masterlist]
At Any Cost: Weeks of interruptions from either side led the reader and Elias to the Elimination Chamber. Not only is a Wrestlemania moment up for grabs, but also the chance to prove who is the better wrestler and the better man. [Series Masterlist]
Finn Balor NSFW Alphabet: A unique version of the NSFW Alphabet to the differences between Finn and Balor and their relationship with the reader. [Series Masterlist] (In Process)
Family Found: When Y/N joins the journalism crew of WWE, she is trying to make a name for herself. Then her missing past begins to catch up to her, and she finds herself capable of filling a void she never thought could be filled again. [Series Masterlist] (In Process)
Marvel/WWE Crossover: New tech in the rooms gives the reader the chance to meet her heroes. Almost Real
Y/N gets dragged to a boxing match by her friends where she meets Dean “Raisin’ Cain” Winchester, a boxer who is forced to win or lose depending on how much money his bosses want to make in matches. Can their combined effort break the fixed boxing ring? [Series Masterlist]
At the Yule banquet, the reader wears a revealing dress that inspires Loki to ensure she remembers who she is married to.
Pairing: Loki x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: teasing, use of magic, bondage (kinda), teasing/SMUT in public, food mention
Word Count: 1540
Note: Felt like writing something naughty for the winter break. Please let me know if you enjoyed it likes, comments, and reblogs. (Comments and additions on reblogs make me giggly.) My tag lists and requests are open. Please enjoy!
With a twirl, you admired your gown and figure in the mirror. Loki was already present at the Yule banquet. Frigga had requested his assistance with some Seidr decorations. For all his sly pride and tricks, Loki loved this time of year. Outside may be blue and white with cold, but inside everything was decorated in his and his brother’s colors of green and red. He smiled more around Yuletime as well. More accepted. More at home than any other time of the year.
You spun again with a giggle. The dress was a special commission for you as an early Yule gift for Loki. The neckline put the swell of your breasts on full display, though modestly covered with a sheer layer of golden lace. Not that it would save you from blushing. Gold ribbons crisscrossed the shimmery green fabric. If the firelight hit it just right, observers would be able to see your family color of blue in the swells and crests as you moved. But it was mostly green and gold to match your husband’s motley. The special addition, though, was the slit on one side running up from the hem to your upper thigh. You used your Seidr to decorate your thigh with henna-like designs hiding symbols used only between you and Loki. Ones that would make him jealous, and also possessively aroused.
A young maid knocked on your chamber door announcing the beginning of the pre-banquet festivities.
You left her to surprise Loki.
The banquet hall’s twin was covered in glittering adornments from floor to ceiling. Streamers and winter flowers framed Frigga and Loki’s moving portraits of Yule’s past. For all of the ornamentation, the members of the court twittered and filled the hall with beautiful song. Many forwent their usual colors. Instead, green and red were the colors of the evening. Finding Loki would be difficult. More difficult than you imagined. As others danced in the center, you were floated from portrait to portrait as various courtiers cooed of Loki’s skill, praising you for calming his tricks to just a few pranks over the year.
Another hand clasped you and pulled you away from a group. “Have you been looking for me?” Loki’s voice eased you to melt in his arms as he swept you away for a dance.
“Yes, darling. Awe-struck nobility kept me from my task though.” You looked around again as he twirled you. “The hall is beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m glad the muse is impressed.” Loki frowned, eyeing the slit in your dress as you stepped forward with the dance. “And what is this?”
“It’s your Yule present. Well, one of them. Do you like it?”
“In a sort. Though why you chose to gift it to the court as well is beyond me.” Loki’s eyes glittered as the music came to an end. “What are you playing at, Y/N? You know you will not be able to out-mischief me.”
Your reply was interrupted by a chorus of bells that drew everyone’s attention to the doors to the banquet hall. Before the last tone faded away, they swung open to reveal the table long enough to seat the whole court. Loki frowned at you and led you to your seat. He pushed in your chair next Frigga on Odin’s right, then sat across from you next to Thor. Through Odin’s Yule speech, Loki kept his eyes locked with you, making you shiver under his gaze.
As the feat began, Loki hovered various foods to your plate. He seared runes onto meat, cut it into vegetables, and let you the message that this dinner would not pass without some revenge. You prepared yourself to see what else he would say, through runes or out loud, that he knew would make you blush.
But he said nothing.
He hadn’t broken gaze during the speech. Now he barely looked at you, leaving you to debate magical practices with Frigga. Thor noticed and occasionally looked at you as the banquet progressed. As the time slugged by, and the runes faded from your food, unease like waiting for the first horn of battle settled into your stomach. As more time passed, you wondered if you read the runes wrong and that they said the night would not pass instead of the dinner.
Then you felt a chill creep up your exposed thigh.
Your eyes went wide, but you quickly blinked them to normal to not draw attention to yourself. It circled down to your ankle and pulled it against the chair leg. Something like metal clasped shut. Now you wouldn’t be able to press your thighs together without turning awkwardly from Frigga. The chill warmed the longer it was in contact with your skin. It crept up your thigh, circling and squeezing. Your breath came out in short gasps, though you were able to keep your chest from heaving.
“Y/N, are you alright? You look a little flush.” Frigga’s voice brought you back to focus.
“Yes. It’s wonderfully warm in here. Is it just from the fire, or did you finally get the circulation spell working?”
Frigga branched off into detail, but you were only half listening. The warm tendril had worked its way up to the top band of your panties. You waited with baited breath for it to work under the band. Loki’s eyes caught yours and for a split second you feared he would hold you on edge for the whole evening. He grinned in triumph as your fork fell from your hand. The warmth covered your whole sex, though a tendril worked on your clit. It split into two and the second began to tease its way into you. You gripped the edge of your chair in an effort to keep a placid face. If you were failing, nobody made mention.
Loki winked.
The tendrils took turns vibrating against you. Alternating and ever-changing patterns brought you quickly to the brink. But he kept you on the edge. Loki avoided the areas he knew you were sensitive at. He hit just next to them. Acknowledging them made them more desperate. You fought bucking in your chair for relief. The series of toasts were coming up, and you had an inkling you knew which one he was aiming you make you cum on.
Odin stood and raised his glass. The assembly remained sitting but raised their glasses. “To victories that we have won in this year, and to the brave warriors that brought them, we salute you!” The assembly echoed his last phrase and drank.
The tendril on your clit stopped moving but did not move away. The second moved slowly in a delicious drag.
“To the peace we have found, and to the bountiful harvest that feeds Asgard and her neighbors, we drink and feast to make room for more.”
The second tendril began to move faster. The first began light taps on your clit, jolting you in your chair.
Thor stood with his goblet. “And to the king, father to all: Odin. May the next one thousand years be as prosperous as the first.
You almost choked drinking the toast as Loki’s magic took over your senses. Goosebumps broke out over your body and you quaked in your chair. A mist settled over your eyes. The haze tunneled your sight to the god across the table. Blood pounded in your ears. You could hear how ragged your breath was, like waves before a storm.
Still, the tendrils continued to work you higher into bliss. The one on your clit took up its earlier pattern, though faster and more focused. The second split into several inside you so as to reach every sensitive point at once.
Your usual shout of ecstasy fell out as a whimper, unheard in the din of applause for the toasts. Loki smiled in triumph and lifted his glass towards you. As he drank, the magic fell from your body, and your ankle was released. Your head lolled to one side as you fought to keep your posture.
Frigga’s voice brought you to attention. “Are you alright, dear? Your flush is deeper than before.”
“Yes, my queen,” you nearly croaked. “I think the Yule ale has rushed to my head. I might retire before the closing dances, by your leave.”
“Of course; rest well. I will see you again tomorrow.”
It took the rest of the banquet for you to ease your breathing back into its usual pattern. By then, Loki was again avoiding your gaze. Finally, Odin announced the final revelry. Loki took the chance to leave with you by a side door.
“Have you learned your lesson, pet?” You hummed positively. He looped his arm in yours so you could lean your head on his shoulder. Loki paused outside of your shared chambers. “You said earlier that this gown was only one of my Yule presents. What are the others?”
A thrill ran through you. The night still had room for more mischief. “You have to unwrap the first gift to get to the others.” You tugged on the sheer lace of your bodice, revealing just a thin ribbon of the lace garments underneath the gown.
Prompt: “I just can’t help but to see Elias with a “thick” woman I’m Samoan so I’m big and I don’t see many fics with bigger girls. Maybe something like she’s nervous to do it with him for the first time or she broke his rule about fingering herself (because lord his fingers!!) And he helps her and after he lays on her and she combs his hair and tells her how much he loves her? I’m really awkward at requesting sorry 😂 *can the reader also be a wrestler?*”
Pairing: Elias Samson x PlusSized!Reader, Elias x Samoan!Reader
Warnings/Promises: fat-shaming, the whole fanfiction trinity: Angst, Fluff, and SMUT, oral (female receiving), Elias’s fingers (should be a warning, right?)
Word Count: ~2700
Note: I’m sorry this took so long to write. I was really trying to get it just right and I hope you like it anon! Also, I don’t really know much about Mandy Rose yet, but her voice felt right for this. If you all enjoyed it please let me know with likes, reblogs, and comments. My tag lists are open, and so are requests. I’m home for the holidays, so if you’ve got an idea now is the perfect time to send it in. Now please enjoy!
Mandy Rose smiled sticky sweet at you as she stepped into the ring, alone. Kurt Angle muttered something under his breath; he backed away from your interrupted conversation and the trouble that was doomed to explode eventually. “Y/N, you think you are the reason that people keep up with the women’s division? Oh, honey. Ask anyone of them and they will tell you who they came to see: Absolution, led by the creator of the-“
“Imma stop you right there.” You had heard enough. Fast as lightning you snatched her microphone and tossed it over your shoulder. “Mandy, I’ve seen your abilities in the ring. They are good. They have to be for you to have gotten this far and I applaud you. But not you, nor your friend Paige, are the creator of anything.” You paused as the crowd agreed with you. “Women have been making waves in the WWE since before you were even an idea. Mae Young. Chyna. Trish Status. Aj Lee. Legends, every single one of them. Legends I grew up watching. You probably did too. Your rings skills are good, but they are not legendary, and this ‘Revolution’ thing you keep harping on… it is the result of generations of women wrestlers before you. So show some respect and shut your mouth.”
The crowd was so loud you barely heard what Mandy spat back, but once you caught on to what she was saying, you felt like a little girl in an empty arena.
“Yeah, and all that history has lead up to your fat ass standing in the ring. You don’t belong here. Why don’t you take several visits to the gym before you talk to me like that again?”
While the arena couldn’t hear her, Kurt did and separated you. He set a match between you for later that night, but you barely heard him as Mandy repeated what she said, though staying out of mic range. She cackled triumphantly when she could see the words sinking in. There were a couple of matches until then, and you spent that time trying to get her words out of your head. But as the bell rang, all of your efforts sputtered out as she continued her verbal attack.
“How does Elias even look at you? I know he’s a big man, but do his fingertips touch when he hugs you? Or does he have to squeeze?”
You used her words to fuel your energy, sending her repeatedly to the mat.
“One more question: does he kiss you in the dark?”
With a furious scream, you dug your fingers into her scalp and sent her hurtling across the ring. She bounced off the post back to where you could pin her. As the referee called ‘three’ she chuckled. You won the match, but she won the war.
You left the ring quickly and made your way backstage to a lesser-used screen. Elias still had a match, and even though you were feeling broken you wanted to be there for him no matter the outcome of his match.
How can he even look at you?
You shook Mandy’s voice out of your head and focused on Elias’s playing. He was interrupted oddly enough by Curt Hawkins. Two minutes later he had beaten Curt Hawkins. Which meant he was soon to be on his way to you. All muscle and pride and probably humming something sinful.
You couldn’t let him find you.
Do his fingertips touch when he hugs you?
You scrambled to your locker room and locked the door, then slid down it to sit on the floor.
Or does he have to squeeze?
Thunderous knocking made you jump with a squeak. You clapped your hand over your mouth as Elias continued to knock on your door, though less loudly.
“Y/N? Are you in there? Can I come in?” The door creaked as he leaned closer almost as if he could sense you through it. “I have some melodies I want to run by you,” he rumbled. Melodies was his codeword for the way he would hum into your pussy while pinning you to whatever flat surface was handy. Elias hummed in confusion when you kept silent and walked off to look for you, even as you sat on your floor rubbing your thighs together.
He had a rule against it, being incredibly jealous of fulfilling your desires, but his damn voice was too much. And it was all you would allow yourself to have: his voice. You slipped your fingers under the waistbands of your layers and replaced Mandy’s words seared into your brain with pleasure. Then the crescendo replaced everything. His voice. Her words. Your fear. You let out a soft cry as your mind felt blissfully empty.
The hard door bit into your shoulder blades as you fought towards breathing evenly before you would head out. You changed out and focused on appearing as normal as ever: tired after your match and ready for sleep. Which was not unusual. Nothing on your mind, nothing bothering you, just tired. Normal. You said goodbye to people on your way out and heard from a few that Elias was still roaming the arena annoying Balor with music. You chuckled. You would be long asleep at the hotel before he came back.
That was the plan anyway.
When you dropped your bags on the floor of your shared hotel room, the light over the corner chair clicked on, revealing a calm and collected Elias.
“What happened to you?” Elias’ eyebrows scrunched together with worry. “I couldn’t find you. Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” You avoided his gaze by unpacking. “I watched your match on that back screen, then changed out, then… just normal things. Why, where’d you go?”
“I talked to Kurt Angle. And then to the ref from your match.”
You felt your throat constrict around the words you tried to form. “Oh.”
“And then when I doubled back to your locker room, I heard something that is usually for my ears only. Do you want to talk about it?”
You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Don’t. Please, don’t. You don’t belong here. “Elias, I… no. I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Elias walked over to stand just within reach. “But you need to?” He hummed. “Y/N, what’s on your mind? You can tell me.” He grazed his fingers down your arm making you shiver with a cacophony of emotions.
Or does he have to squeeze?
You stepped back and grabbed your bathroom things and your sleeping clothes. The lump in your throat was making it hard to breathe, but you fought to hide it all. “I’m just tired. But I’ll see you in the morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed. And ready for whatever you want for breaking your rule.”
Elias caught your arm before you could escape. “The rule isn’t to …come here,” he said gently. You let him pull you sit on the bed next to him. “The rule isn’t a law that must never be broken just because I said so. It’s to make sure you know how much you are loved. You don’t have to obey it just to keep me… satisfied. I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“But how could you be happy with me? I’m… I’ve got more rolls… my power comes from throwing my weight at people. Not muscle. Not skill. What do you see in me?” The lump in your throat finally choked you and you gasped. Your knuckles lightened as you clasped your hands in your lap. Elias softly placed his hand on top.
“I see the beautiful woman that I love in heart, soul, mind, and body. A woman who has more talent than half the roster, and one I am always excited to see compete, whether it’s on the screen or from fighting by her side. Y/N, you are both graceful and powerful when you move. In the ring and out.” He reached up and pushed a curl behind your ear. “Tell me, what do you need?”
“Just hold me.” You made no movement to move closer to him, but Elias wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled your head to rest on his shoulder. Once your breathing came easier, you nuzzled your cheek against his nose. He kissed your forehead and down your face to your lips, pressing harder and harder until you turned to twist your fingers in his hair and returned the kiss. He helped you wriggle up the bed so you could lay back on the cushions with his arms still around you and your head tucked under his. Your head rested against his chest in prime position to feel it rumble as Elias began to hum.
It was calming. The tune easily replaced the thoughts in your head, but also sparked something else.
The humming stopped as Elias felt you tense. “What is it?”
You licked your lips to stall for time. “Is… is that one of those melodies you wanted me to hear?”
Elias chuckled. “Yes. Do you want to hear them now or stay like this?”
With each passing second, you could feel your anxieties creeping back up to the surface. “Now,” you rushed, “please.” You fumbled with his shirt and then the buckle on his jeans, desperate to win the race for your confidence. He helped you strip down until you were just in your bra and panties, though they didn’t last long either once he began to kiss his way down your body. He tossed your bra to the floor with the rest of the clothes and kneaded your ample breasts. Inch by inch, he kissed down between your breasts, over your stomach, over your curves, down to one side where his beard scratched against the inside of your thigh. You whimpered as he continued to avoid your sex. His fingers danced around the edges of the fabric and then eased your panties down, following them down your leg with soft kisses. By the time he worked back up your other leg to your hip, you were contorting trying to feel him where you needed him.
He nipped at your hip, then hummed deeply into your sex. You bucked off the bed and moaned. Elias spread his hands across your hips to hold you in place as he kissed and sucked and licked and hummed into your pussy. You fought to keep quiet so you could hear the way he growled when your thighs tightened around his head. Elias chuckled and leaned up, making you whine at the loss.
“Oh, no. I want to hear you.” He again ran his beard across the inside of your thighs and murmured, “every sigh and cry; it’s all beautiful, so give it to me.” He caught your eye one more time, your arousal glistening in his beard, then he went back to pulling every possible sound of pleasure from your lips.
When he was satisfied you were no longer holding back, he began to use his fingers.
Years of practicing the guitar and wrestling had created some rough calluses. Often, they caught on your sweaters and pulled on the fabric of your nicer clothes. Yet they were one of the best tools in his repertoire. Coated in your arousal, each one heightened the pleasure brought on by perfectly experienced fingers. Combined with the continued humming and borderline singing into your heat you were ready to tip over the edge within minutes.
Your thighs shook and shivered, and you buried your fingers in his hair tugging him closer. Elias took your signals and sped up his efforts, curling into just the right spots to make you see phosphenes behind your eyelids. Elias moaned one more time and then sucked down hard on your clit. He continued to pump his fingers in and out, but he leaned up to watch the euphoria send ripples across your body and see your face relax into a bright blissful smile.
Lost to the world, you barely felt him move up the bed to lay at your side. His fingers sucked clean of your essence, danced across your collarbone until you found enough energy to tilt your face towards him. You felt drowsy, but with a slight movement of your leg, you could feel his arousal still confined in his boxer briefs. His ministrations to your collarbone stilled as you reached down and feathered across his clothed length. He shimmed them down his legs. You readied to spread your legs for him to slot between but gasped when he pulled you up to sit on his stomach.
“Wha-“
“Do you trust me?” Elias’s eyes glinted with pupil-blown lust.
He waited until you nodded, then guided you slide back and forth on his length trapped between your bodies. Every once in a while, you shuddered as your clit hit the curve of an ab or the tip of his cock. You were about ready to collapse onto his chest before he grasped your hips and guided his length to your entrance. He eased you up and down, thrusting his hips gently until you took control and sank the rest of the way with a sigh. You wanted to feel the burn of him, but he held you down until your walls fluttered with impatience.
“Please, Elias,” you groaned, digging your nails into his pecs.
Elias let out a shuddered breath and gripped you tighter. “Don’t play with me, ‘cause you’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” He smirked as you froze, then raised you up so he could snap his hips to meet yours. Over and over again, he found different places that made you cry out his name. “That’s right. But you know what’s even better than knowing you’re mine?” He held you down as your orgasm simmered under the surface. “I want you to say it after me. ‘I am beautiful.’”
“I… I am beautiful,” you stuttered. Desperately you circled your hips to steal some relief.
Elias didn’t stop you but gave you a few more thrusts before pausing again. “Now: ‘I am talented.’”
“I am talented.” You gasped as Elias reached up and tweaked your nipples.
“One more,” he said, continuing to play with your breasts. “’I am loved.’”
Your chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe with your release sitting just out of reach. “I… oh, Elias.” He still had one strong hand on your waist and was going to tease you until you finished the statement. “I am… loved.”
You cried out as he dropped his hand to thumb circles into your clit. You fell forward enough to have to brace yourself on his chest, giving Elias more room to bring you to a toe-curling climax. He followed soon after your walls clamped down on him, drawing out pleased moans from both of you.
Elias cleaned you up a few moments later. He sprawled out on the bed in his favorite position: his head on your stomach with his hair draping over you so you could run your fingers through it. You almost fell asleep doing just that, like you had many times before, but his voice broke through your post-sex haze.
“I love you, Y/N. You are perfect as you are. Talented and beautiful and brilliant. We can do this every night until you believe me if you want. Please promise that you won’t hide away from me again?” When you didn’t answer immediately, he reached up and caught your hand.
You gave it a squeeze. “I promise, though I might need frequent reminders.” He released you so you could continue. It didn’t take long before your eyelids grew heavy again. You almost missed it, but you heard Elias humming the melody from earlier. It was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep.
The Mark keeps Dean awake again, so the reader does her best to take his mind off it.
Pairing: MOC!Dean x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: bit of angst, SMUT
Word Count: 1360
Note: Its finals where I am, so have a study Dean to help you relax at the end of your tests. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Tags and requests are open, and I will have time to do some real work now that winter break is upon us. Enjoy!
When you reached back for Dean, he wasn’t there.
For a split second your mind raced with every worst-case scenario you had ever thought of. Leaving the life and you all in one night. Getting taken by some monster looking for power or a bargaining chip. The Mark taking over.
You took a deep breath. Opening your eyes in the darkness, the door was open and you could see the faint glimmer of light coming from the library. You wrapped a blanket around you and followed the glow to find him.
Dean was slumped over a lore book, one hand on a bottle of beer, and the other stretched out enough to where the Mark peaked out from under his robe. His eyebrows were almost touching. His green eyes, pale in his fury, darted back and forth across the page. You knew it wasn’t there. The information how to remove the Mark. He knew it wasn’t there. “But maybe we missed something” was always on his mind.
“Dean?” Your soft voice carried quickly, startling him. “Shh, it’s just me.” Your feet thumped across the wood flooring as you came to stand behind him. Dean leaned back into your touch as you worked your hands under the collar of his robe and began to massage his neck.
“You should be asleep,” he mumbled. He sounded so… broken.
“So should you.” You reached down for his hand and tugged it with you as you took a step towards the hallway. “Come back to bed.”
Dean twisted his wrist out of your grip. “Won’t do any good. Go back to sleep, Y/N.” He turned back to the book and seemed to forget you were in the room.
You stood there for a second, hovering between taking his suggestion/order and coming up with something to get his mind off the Mark. “You have an idea,” your brain provided. Now wasn’t really the time. It’s the perfect time. It’s midnight.
“Hey, Dean.” Your voice sounded stronger than you felt.
Dean’s jaw dropped as you dropped the blanket from around your shoulders. Sleeping in the same bed as Dean was like living with an electric blanket, so there was never a need for clothes.
“And if my memory serves me correctly,” you walked over to him as he scooted his chair back, “this is your favorite robe for a reason.” With a gentle tug on the sash and a flick of the wrist, you opened up Dean’s robe to find that he wasn’t wearing clothes either. Your tongue dashed out to wet your lips. “See something you like, Winchester?” Dean let out a shuddered breath as you ran your finger up his aroused length.
“Sweetheart, I was ready for you the moment you walked in the room.”
The question was out before you thought it through. “Then why didn’t you come to bed?”
Dean looked away. His arm with the Mark tensed and he gripped the armrest till his fingers were white. “I… I don’t want…”
You pushed the robe off his shoulders and down his arms. “You’re not going to hurt me, Dean.” You bent your knees till you were sitting on his lap. He still wouldn’t look at you, so you kissed along his jawline until his mouth found its way to yours.
“What did I do to deserve you?”
“Everything.”
Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest as he gripped your waist and kissed you harder. Rushed. Hungry. Needy. His length was trapped between you, radiating heat that igniting inside you a need of your own.
Dean ignored your squeak of surprise as he stood with your legs wrapped around his waist. You helped him scoot the book and beer out of the way, uncaring of any noise that might wake Sam. Dean sank to his knees despite your efforts to stop him.
“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you rasped.
Dean nuzzled his nose to the inside of your thigh. “Trust me, this will.” He kissed the top of your mound, just above your clit, then began to meticulously take you apart.
In another life, if Dean Winchester had been an incubus, he could have ruled the world. Even as you held your hand over your mouth to silence your moaning, the obscene slurping and lapping coming from Dean echoed through the library. Your knuckles were white where you gripped onto the table. A warm haze settled over you. He was taking it slow, but this only heightened every sensation. Where his fingers dug into your thighs, there would be bruises in the morning. The blue and purple marks would make him fret, but you would wear them like badges of honor. Not that you could think that far in advance at the moment. The twist and playfulness of his tongue in your pussy was draining all thoughts from your head except one.
Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean.
“Keep calling my name like that, Y/N, and I won’t make it to the main event.” Dean chuckled and made you gasp as he curled two fingers into your heat. His other hand snaked its way up your body, laving trails of icy fire in their wake. With him half stretched over you, you couldn’t thrash or buck up to meet his face. A loud keen fell from your lips as Dean began to play with your breasts. He alternated sucking lightly on your clit and running his tongue along next to his fingers.
“Please. Please. Please,” you chanted, finally finding the strength to curl your fingers into his hair.
Dean growled. He sucked hard on your clit and pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Then he was on his feet, kissing you as you screamed into his mouth. He prolonged your orgasm into another as he continued to pump and curl his fingers over your sweet spot. Dean chuckled as you melted into the table. You caught his arm and rubbed your thumb over the mark. His skin prickled under your touch.
“Don’t go.”
You ignored the dark circles under his eyes. The seemingly permanent crease in his brow. The heavy droop in his head. You fought to keep your eyes open so he could see everything you couldn’t say out loud in them.
He broke the gaze but nodded. You leaned up with him to sit on the edge of the table and to press your forehead against his. His hands remained on either side of you flat on the table as you guided his length to your entrance. With one shuddered breath, Dean thrust into you. Then there it is. The starvation for control. You give it to him.
Hips snap against you. Fingertips leap to your hips. Dean’s grunts and your moans fill the air. The table slides a little with each thrust, but Dean keeps chasing you and release. One of your hands claws at the small of his back, pulling him closer. The other grips at the Mark, covering it up so all Dean can hear and see and feel is you. The feeling of your walls fluttering around him. How tightly your eyes are closed now in bliss. Your whimpers and begging gasps of breath for more. More of him. Only him.
Your body shivers and your toes curl to the cramping point as Dean twists his hips to hit the spot that sends you over the edge. Your legs quiver around Dean’s hips when he stills and holds you on him while his release coats your walls. Dean finally slumps over you, raised up just enough not to crush you, not that you would mind. His chest heaves down to yours puffing up.
You whine as his warmth disappears, replaced by the colder robe that smells like him. Dean wraps your blanket around his hips and carries you back to bed.
“I love you, Dean,” you whisper with a yawn. Dean strokes your hair until you’re asleep, clasping tightly onto his arm wrapped around your waist.
“I love you too, Y/N.” Then he’s out like a light, barely leaving a hair’s breadth between you in the bed.
Elias tries one more time to expel Abigail from Y/N. While she is teamed up with Bray, Elias has to make an alliance himself with something equally as powerful.
Pairing: None-ish (A little Elias x Reader, a little Finn x Reader)
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, exorcism (of a sort, by way of powerbombs)
Word Count: 1450
Note: Here it is: the last chapter. I’m also leaving it a little open-ended so there is room to continue, but not necessarily right now. I’ve applied for a job with the WWE, so please keep your fingers crossed for me! As always, if you like my style please comment, reblog, and like the fic. My tag lists and requests are open. Now please enjoy!
Kurt Angle anxiously searched backstage. He almost bumped into the man he was looking for when he walked around a corner. “Elias.” The Drifter ignored him, choosing instead to continue plucking at his guitar strings. He only stopped walking when Kurt placed his hand on his shoulder. “Now hang on. Just… are you sure you want to do this?”
Elias looked forward down the hall. He shook Kurt’s hand off his shoulder and continued to play as he walked away.
In the arena, the fireflies were already out and dancing as Bray led the way through the darkness with his lantern. I followed close behind. I stepped through the ropes held open for me and came to stop in the middle of the ring. Bray circled me with his lantern, gleeful. But when he blew out the lantern, the arena lights did not brighten the space. Instead, they drowned it in red light. We both turned confused to the stage just in time to see Elias walk out into a spotlight.
His fingers paused just over the strings, then sank to the body. He knocked twice. Paused. Then twice again. Pause. Two knocks. The arena went wild as they recognized the heartbeat of the demon.
Elias stepped to one side as fog billowed up from the stage and the speakers summoned up his music. Moments later, Balor crawled out of the smoke covered in red and black paint, sharp teeth framing his torso from shoulder to shoulder. He stood and clawed at the sky, then began to skulk down the ramp. Elias laid his precious guitar on the edge of the stage before following.
When the show of power was done, and the lights came up, Bray faced Elias and I faced Balor in the middle of the ring.
The announcing peasant shuffled to stand somewhat behind the referee keeping us apart. “This tag team match is scheduled for one fall and is a no disqualification match.” He tried to continue with his dribble, but couldn’t find the air and hurried out of the ring.
We separated into our opposite corners as the bell rang. I stepped out of the ropes and saw Balor do the same. Elias and Bray would have the first round. The Drifter attacked first and did not look in my direction once during his time. He kept his focus on the opponent in front of him. Elias was incredibly trusting of the Demon King to watch his back, but then I guess at their core they had the same goal in mind. A goal that would lead to their destruction.
Elias fell back into his corner where Balor tagged himself in. Bray wisely took several steps back. He turned to look at me and grinned. I stepped into the ring when the tag had been passed.
A hush fell over the crowd after a second’s worth of excitement. I towered over his pounce-ready form as we circled each other, hackles on edge as we waited for the other to launch. For a moment I thought he would try to throw me off-rhythm by giving the tag back to Elias, but he stood to his full height and lunged. I was backed into an unclaimed corner where Balor used his shoulder as a battering ram into my stomach. When he crawled back, I took the moment to hold myself up by the top ropes, arms outstretched like a spider on her guard.
With a chuckle I sank to my toes and hands, matching the Demon King’s stance. He growled and bared his teeth. I smiled back, enjoying the moment of mocking him. We took turns taking practice shots at each other. I pushed off the ropes, ready to sling-blade Balor. I again let my vessel’s muscle memory take over. She could wear down the demon, then I would finish him.
“Y/N!” Elias shouted.
You stumbled in your run and shivered. Elias had his hand outstretched for Finn, whose paint was already beginning to run.
“Abigail,” Bray called gruffly.
I shuddered. He called again, but I ignored him with a snarl and initiated my manic attack. Past Balor I saw Elias drop to the floor and run towards our corner, chasing Bray. Balor retained my attention until Bray began utilizing the no disqualification clause.
Outside the ring, Elias fell with a shout as Bray hit him across the chest with a kendo stick. I stumbled, dropping to my knees against my will, shaken to my core. Balor took the chance to bounce off the ropes and speed towards me. I heard Bray call my name just as Balor’s knee collided with my forehead. My head jerked, and I fell completely to the mat. Rolling to my back I saw Elias take his turn with the kendo stick on Bray. He scrambled away, but Elias kicked him into the steps out of my view.
Then I heard the growl.
Looking up, Balor was on the top rope. He bared his teeth and leapt. My chest felt the full Coup de Grace and I couldn’t find the strength to move as he pinned me.
One. Two. Three.
The Wyatt’s had lost. I had lost. Unacceptable.
Elias entered the ring and joined Balor in standing over me. I rolled to the ropes and used them to pull myself to my feet. With a screech, I launched towards their throats, but Elias scooped me onto his shoulders. I hurtled towards the mat, shuddering with the collision.
You groaned in pain.
I clawed at the mat, but Elias picked me up again. He dropped me harder.
Your back arched. Still, you felt like you were seeing the world from under water.
You… I rolled a bit a way, gasping for breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bray’s head as he began to stumble to his feet. I reached for him, but then my view was obstructed by black boots.
Balor nodded at Elias, who lifted me again. I tried calling their names in her voice, but he only hesitated for a second. I fell.
You blinked hard and gingerly held your arms around your head. “Ow.” As the blinding lights began to fade away, you could see Finn observing you. He was still mostly covered in demon paint, but it was faded and missing in patches from where he had been hit. You winced as you turned to look at Elias. His chest was bleeding in stripes.
Balor crawled closer. You held your hand up towards his face. He shied away, eyes glaring.
“It’s me.” You stayed as still as possible, holding your breath as he came closer once more. You let it out as a sigh as he nuzzled your hand.
“Y/N.” He continued to say your name until the gruffness faded away into his usual smooth accent. Finn helped you to your feet and wrapped your arm around his shoulder for support. Once you were standing in the middle of the ring, you finally let yourself notice the cheers and applause coming from the crowd. You gave them a short wave, making them ecstatic.
“Heads up.” Elias nodded behind us. We followed his gaze as Bray walked around the ring to the stage side.
He stopped in front of us, expression hard and furious. Then his cheeks twitched. The corner of his mouth curled into a grin. The arena sank into curious silence as he began to chuckle, then giggle, then to laugh hard enough that his chest heaved. The stadium went dark and when the lights came back on he was nowhere to be seen.
You motioned for a mic. The ref passed one to each of you. “Think he’s given up?” You asked. The crowd booed, though there were a few hopeful cheers.
Finn chuckled. “Prob’ly not. He’ll be back, but not for a while.”
Elias fiddled with his mic, then stepped towards the ropes.
“Wait, please,” you said, grasping at his shoulder.
He paused and took your hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing your knuckles. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
Finn brought up his mic. “Elias, thank you. Really.”
Elias chuckled and ducked under the ropes. He backed up the ramp. “Don’t think this changes a thing. I’ll still kick your ass if you keep interrupting my music.” He stopped on the stage and picked up his guitar. “Y/N… good luck helping that disaster win back the Universal.”
“You won’t get close to it once I get it back,” Finn growled.
“Won’t need to. I’ve got my own plans.” With that, Elias was gone, leaving you and Finn in the ring surrounded by adoring Balor Club members.
Elias has been accepted into the Wyatt family but takes a risk too soon and talks to Finn Balor. He is set in a match with Abigail herself with the freedom of Y/N on the line.
Pairing: None
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, mention of possession
Word Count: 1450+
Note: Only one more part after this! If you don’t want to risk missing it, let me know and I’ll tag you. Please comment like and reblog if are enjoying this… or if there’s something you don’t like, and you want to call me out on it. Either. For those who like my style, my requests are open, as well as tag lists for WWE, Supernatural, Marvel, and DC. Now please enjoy this second-to-last part of Sister in Arms.
He had hoped the stroll down the back hallways would be private, not that the lack of a camera crew would have stopped Abigail and Bray from finding out anyway. He was looking for someone and hoping not to find them. He failed in the second task. Elias took a deep breath and approached Finn Balor sitting on a crate. His shoulders were rolled back and bruised from his victory last week against Samoa Joe. Finn had not forgotten about the Universal, but the absence of Y/N had him distracted.
“Wot do you want?” Finn didn’t look up from his phone. “Are ya not enjoyin’ your new… alliance?”
“Finn…”
“No.” Finn leapt to his feet and pinned Elias to the wall. “I know wot you’re doin’. You’re trying to save her from the inside.”
“You don’t,” Elias gasped behind Finn’s forearm, “you don’t think it will work?” He made eye contact with the leader of the Balor Club. No hate. No pleading. Just… resignation.
Finn sighed and stepped back. He waited for Elias to catch his breath before continuing. “Abigail will corrupt you before ya can get close enough t’ do anythin’ for Y/N. But…”
Elias held his breath and rubbed his throat.
“…if ya need help at any point, jus’ let me know.” They shared a nod. “Now ya better get yerself to tha ring. They’ll be looking for ya. And be careful.”
Finn sat back down on the crate with a sigh while Elias finished his stroll. The weight she had tried so hard to eliminate from his shoulders was back.
The fireflies flickered out as the lights came on around us. Bray paced back and forth behind me livid, and relieved.
“Drifter,” I sang into the mic. “You are late.”
“I’m here Abigail.”
I heard Bray growl. Turning, I saw Elias standing in the ring behind us with his guitar over his shoulder. Calm. Collected. Grinning like a child who has just come out of the best hiding place in the house because he couldn’t be found.
I smiled. “So you are. By your smile, I have to observe that you enjoyed your time with us.” The crowd let out a mixture of cheers and boos. I raised a finger to my lips and they silenced. “And yet, you have betrayed us.” Bray giggled while Elias’s face fell. “You owed me… us a week of allegiance. That time is not yet up. You broke our bargain, Drifter.”
Elias shifted on his feet. His fingers twiddled on the neck of his guitar and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
“But I know how easy it is to be swayed in this world.” I motioned out to the crowd around us. An idea slipped into my mind and I smiled. “I’ll make one more deal with you, Elias, one more chance. Fight Bray, again. If you win, you can leave with no repercussions, though do not expect peace if our paths cross again. Lose, you stay and continue to reap the benefits you seem to care so flippantly about.”
Elias side-eyed Bray. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head while he considered. He took a deep breath. “I agree. But I want to fight you.”
I twisted my head in confusion. “A fight for my soul? Oh, Elias, it doesn’t exist anymore,” I laughed.
“Not yours.”
Oh. The Drifter was more lovesick than I gave him credit for. “You mean to fight for Y/N’s soul. It doesn’t exist anymore, either.” Elias stared me down, refusing to back down. There could be other members to Bray and I, but if we lost our first for such a trifle reason… I looked back at Bray. He did not approve. “But I accept.”
Bray’s fists strangled invisible creatures at his sides. Elias nodded and moved to set his guitar outside the ring.
“But not right now.” My voice froze him in place. “If this is truly a match for something that matters so much to you, then it should be later tonight so you may have time to prepare. And to converse with your rival turned confidant: Finn Balor.” I smiled sticky sweet and met his terrified gaze.
Bray sat on the ropes so I could lead us both to the bottom of the ramp. As I drew up my hood I turned one last time to Elias.
“Drifter, if you do win this match, and if you and Balor find some way to rescue Y/N, have you thought about how broken she will be? For I will not give up this vessel lightly.” I licked my lips. “Which one of you she will run to for comfort, and which one will be forgotten?” Bray and I left Elias in the ring to ponder these final questions.
Elias did not sing.
His fingers danced across the strings, playing his heart in notes and melodies that only he could understand. And yet once he was done, the entire arena gave him glory. One body. One mind. One heart.
When I won, they would become part of the Wyatt body.
The guitar’s chords were drowned out by Bray’s entrance music. The arena was dark except for the fireflies and the spotlight that followed me to the ring. Elias backed into a corner so Bray had room to circle me with his lantern. He blew out the light and circled me one more time before moving to stand on the floor. Elias and I stood on opposite ends for a second, then I let my cloak fall from my shoulders.
The blood-red ring gear was of my design. It hugged my curves and did not hide what others would call flaws. I am a woman, one who has endured centuries of hardships and I have always found myself on top. If Bray were the head of the family, he would never have let me fight in such apparel. If he had let me fight at all. But he was not in charge.
I nodded at the ref, who gave the signal for the bell to ring. The match had begun.
We met in the center. I held out my hand for him to shake with a smile. When he did not take my hand, I tilted my head to observe his conflicted face. Then I let Y/N’s muscle memory take over. Her kicks were powerful, continuously sending Elias stumbling back for several steps.
I growled when Elias’s strength began to get the upper hand. So I moved faster. Smarter. Noted weaknesses and used them.
But I made a mistake.
Bray was celebrating and applauding my skill. When I turned back from his appreciation, Elias was there. I was caught and every step I took entangled me in his next move. Elias lifted me up onto his shoulders. With a shriek I fell towards the mat, arching with the connection. I twisted out of the way before Elias could try for a pin, but my sight failed mid-crawl.
You blinked your eyes hard trying to get rid of the blinding white ring around everything. Looking up, you realized you were sitting in the ring. But you had just been on the floor? Watching Finn and Elias fight. No. Something had happened.
Bray.
You shuddered and twisted to look for him and Finn. Instead, you saw Elias staring down at you, ready to attack.
“Elias?”
What was going on?
You gripped the side of your head as searing pain filled your mind and body. Then all faded to black.
I growled and launched myself to my feet, stumbling back into the corner. Elias was eyeing me oddly. Bray circled along the outside of the ring to me, but I paced the ring away from him, mind reeling.
This had to end. Now.
I eyed Bray. He read the message and nodded back, circling the ring to stand behind Elias. I kept my focus on the Drifter, making sure he only saw me. He stepped back as I spun, then fell back as I kicked up at his face. Bray was ready for him. He trapped Elias in the ropes in the full sight of the ref. With a nod from my head, Bray began to rain down blows to Elias’s chest. He continued past the ringing of the bell halting the match.
“Your winner, by disqualification, Elias.”
Bray released him. Elias crumpled to the mat to my feet. I motioned for a mic.
“Drifter. You are cast out from the Wyatt family.”
I turned and stepped out of the ring, picking up my cloak on the way by. I pulled the hood up and rushed up the ramp, not trusting my usual way of travel.
The reader is trying to cook, but she can’t reach anything in the cabinets.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: fluff, implied smut
Word Count: ~515
Note: For all my short readers, we’ve been here. Tall readers you can still read this and laugh at our troubles with Sam. Lucky. If you like the fic, let me know with comments and reblogs and… likes. If you want to be put on a tag list, or have a request, shoot me a message!
“Seriously, Winchesters?” You groaned as you tried to reach the casserole dish on the top shelf. “If you two would just stay out of my kitchen, I could reach everything.” With a growl you took a chair and stood on it. You also grabbed a few more things to replace at lower levels later. “This is my kitchen, and I’ll be damned if Dean moves things around again.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that. He thinks the kitchen is his.” Sam chuckled from his leaning position in the doorway when you almost fell off your perch. “If you needed help, you could’ve just asked.”
You crossed your arms. “But I don’t want to have to ask. I want to be able to reach everything without assistance.” You squinted at him as his face twitched with a grin. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”
“But you’re cute.”
“Sam shut up.”
“What? You’re just adorable. And tiny.” His sweet smile finally shined through. No, Y/N. You’re mad at him.
“I am average height, Winchester. Average. Height! You’re just ridiculously tall!”
He stepped closer to you. Balanced as you were, you didn’t have anywhere to go. “I don’t think you are, Y/N. If you were, you wouldn’t need a whole chair to stand eye to eye with me.” He stepped close enough to prove his point. It worked out better than he thought. You bobbed up on your tiptoes to actually glare at his level. He laughed at your movements. The cute one that sounded like bells that only happened when he was really feeling carefree.
“Your cute laugh isn’t going to make me less angry, stop hugging me, put me down! Put me down!” Sam lifted you up and scooted the chair out of the way. He sat you on the counter and stood between your parted legs. “No. I’m not kissing you. I’m mad at you for-“ You were cut off with a kiss. He broke away for a second, then cut you off again, repeating as needed until you leaned forward to follow his retreating lips. Your hands roamed up to the nape of his neck where your fingers could curl in his hair.
Then a thought popped into your head. A memory.
You placed a finger on Sam’s lips and pushed him away. “Dean didn’t put those dishes that high, did he? He never uses these dishes, nor can he reach the back of the top shelf either.” He averted his gaze, dimples making an appearance. “Sam?” you asked, drawing out his name.
“A guy likes to feel needed.” He leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.
“You could’ve just asked,” you repeated at him.
“Can I ask for something else first?”
You nodded, humming in delight.
Sam nuzzled his nose to yours then whispered in your ear, “will you come with me to my room?”
“Only if you help me off the counter first.” You squealed as he lifted you up where you could wrap your legs around his hips.
Dinner preparations were on hold until further notice.
Our Deepest Desires 