Miz invites you to Miz TV for an interview about your entrance last week. He asks harmless questions, until Elias shows up. Things take an unexpected turn when words and fists begin to fly.
Pairing: None (yet)
Warnings/Promises: Bantering, flirting, fluff (?), wrestling violence
Word Count: 1300
Note: Here’s part two! Again, I’m putting my own spin on things. Next week is going to get interesting, so stay tuned. For specific notes I’m hoping for, am I getting Miz, Elias, and Finn’s voices right? Please let me know what you think so far with comments, likes, and reblogs. Let me know if you would like to be added to any of my tag lists, including the one for this series. Now enjoy!
Miz and Curtis Axel made their way to the ring, basking in the pop Miz always received. Love or hate him, Miz was good at his job; you couldn’t deny it. Curtis double checked the placement of the chairs as Miz spoke through the motions of the opening of the show.
“While Sheamus and Ceasaro are on Shield Patrol, I am here tonight to talk to the person that has the WWE universe buzzing with questions. She mysteriously appeared last week out of nowhere, completely unknown, right? Perhaps. We’ll answer that in just a minute. Now give a warm welcome to my quest this evening, Y/N Y/L/N.”
You entered to the same music as before. Miz and Curtis gave you a firm handshake upon your entrance into the ring. Miz motioned to a chair and mic before the men took their positions.
“Y/N, thank you for coming. I have to say, your arrival here at Raw was… unexpected to say the least. Any opening comments on that?”
“Thank you for having me, Miz. And Curtis.” You took a deep breath. “I came to help out a friend. I said as much last week.”
“How is the Balor Club leader?”
You smiled. “He’s good. Always has been. But now he’s actually gotten eight hours or so of sleep at night. He’ll be back to kicking ass in no time.”
Miz encouraged the cheers and applause. “That is all and good, Y/N. But You also said that you had an agreement with Kurt Angle to… ‘beat up a few’ of Finn’s rivals. Who all is included on your vendetta agenda?” He grinned from under his sunglasses, smugly waiting.
Miz invites you to Miz TV for an interview about your entrance last week. He asks harmless questions, until Elias shows up. Things take an unexpected turn when words and fists begin to fly.
Pairing: None (yet)
Warnings/Promises: Bantering, flirting, fluff (?), wrestling violence
Word Count: 1300
Note: Here’s part two! Again, I’m putting my own spin on things. Next week is going to get interesting, so stay tuned. For specific notes I’m hoping for, am I getting Miz, Elias, and Finn’s voices right? Please let me know what you think so far with comments, likes, and reblogs. Let me know if you would like to be added to any of my tag lists, including the one for this series. Now enjoy!
Miz and Curtis Axel made their way to the ring, basking in the pop Miz always received. Love or hate him, Miz was good at his job; you couldn’t deny it. Curtis double checked the placement of the chairs as Miz spoke through the motions of the opening of the show.
“While Sheamus and Ceasaro are on Shield Patrol, I am here tonight to talk to the person that has the WWE universe buzzing with questions. She mysteriously appeared last week out of nowhere, completely unknown, right? Perhaps. We’ll answer that in just a minute. Now give a warm welcome to my quest this evening, Y/N Y/L/N.”
You entered to the same music as before. Miz and Curtis gave you a firm handshake upon your entrance into the ring. Miz motioned to a chair and mic before the men took their positions.
“Y/N, thank you for coming. I have to say, your arrival here at Raw was… unexpected to say the least. Any opening comments on that?”
“Thank you for having me, Miz. And Curtis.” You took a deep breath. “I came to help out a friend. I said as much last week.”
“How is the Balor Club leader?”
You smiled. “He’s good. Always has been. But now he’s actually gotten eight hours or so of sleep at night. He’ll be back to kicking ass in no time.”
Miz encouraged the cheers and applause. “That is all and good, Y/N. But You also said that you had an agreement with Kurt Angle to… ‘beat up a few’ of Finn’s rivals. Who all is included on your vendetta agenda?” He grinned from under his sunglasses, smugly waiting.
“Well, I’m going to play it by ear. Week to week. Nothing crazy hopefully unless someone really has a problem with me being here.”
“Fair enough. How long have you known Finn?”
Origin story time. “I’m actually from the states, but when I was young we moved to Ireland for my dad’s job. I met Finn then and we bonded over our childhood obsession with wrestling. We were each other’s first pins in training.” You paused with a smile as the audience gave a cute reaction. “I moved back to the states shortly before he left for Japan, and we met back up here when he signed with WWE. I’ve been doing my own thing and supporting Finn as he’s done his.”
“Simple as that?”
“Simple as that.”
“Hard questions aside, Y/N, what kind of music do you like?” Miz waited while you laughed through the confusion. “Seriously. What do you and Finn listen too when you guys work out, or when you’re by yourself? Broadly, or as detailed as you like.”
“Oh. Hmm.” You bit your lip. “I dunno, Miz. This might be the harder question. My music choices are all over the place. It really depends on what mood I’m in. Reading takes calmer music… unless I need it epic. Daily life takes something else, and working out is as enthusiastic and encouraging and loud as I can stand it. I can tweet out specific bands later once I’ve had more time if you’d like.”
“I would appreciate that, thank you, Y/N.” Without missing a beat Miz continued. “What are your thoughts on Elias’s music? He’s shown that he’s got quite the range of styles.”
It should have been obvious this was coming. You fiddled with the mic as you tried to find the most PG version of your opinion to share. “Elias’s music?” You chuckled. “He’s got skill on the guitar, anyone can hear that. But as for his singing… some of his notes aren’t, shall we say, always on key.” The audience oohed as Miz reeled back. “But I might be flattered to receive one of his insult compositions. He’s pretty clever, I’ll—”
The strumming of a guitar cut you off. Miz stood and smugly clapped along with the crowd while you gripped your mic tightly. At the same time, you couldn’t keep a smile off your face. This could be fun. You made your way to the opposite of the ring as Elias stood on the apron. He took the mic from Miz.
“You got somethin’ to say to my face, Y/N?”
“I knew you were tone deaf, Elias, but I’m pretty sure you heard me.” A giggle escaped from you as even Miz looked back at you, incredulous. Curtis took a few steps away from you as Elias stepped through the ropes.
“Oh really?
“Yes. Why? You got a problem with some honest feedback?”
“I do when it comes from someone who doesn’t have an ounce of knowledge about talent or wrestling,” Elias smirked as your head tilted in confusion. What was he driving at?
“I have to have some talent, even if it’s just a bit of strategy since I beat you last week.”
“Anyone can come in half-way through a match and use the timing to their advantage.”
You stepped towards the center of the ring; Elias matched your steps. “Awe. Is your ego bruised? Do you go through this same crisis every time you lose a match?”
“Are you always this argumentive? Strategy or timing, you couldn’t replicate the results if you tried.”
There’s the finish line. “I couldn’t? Oh sweetie, I could pin you anytime anyplace. But I’ll always remember you as my first on Raw.” You winked at him. His cheeks twitched to suppress a smile. His eyes followed your tongue as it darted out to wet your lips. “Anytime. Anyplace. Like here and now… if you’re feeling up to it. Or do you have some drifting to do?”
“Actually, I have some wrestling to do. I’ve got a match tonight already, but if you want to use your angle with Kurt, my schedule is open next week.”
“Woah, woah, woah!” Miz stepped between you. “Make matches on your own time. This is my show and…”
“Shut up, Miz!” “We’ll leave when we’re good and ready!”
You and Elias shared a confused look while Miz blustered. “The nerve of you two. I’m the Intercontinental Champion! When my hand goes up your mouth…”
You swung and landed a fist directly to Miz’s jaw. Elias kicked Curtis in the chest before he could get to you guys. He watched you walk by and eyed your form as you left the ring.
“I’ll see you next week, Elias.”
“It’s a date.”
Later, you ran into Finn backstage. He was sweaty from his fight teamed up with Apollo Crews and Titus against Elias and his former friends Gallows and Anderson.
“Whot was that?” he asked, diving right into your interview.
“That was fun. I’ve got a match next week. And I got to be a part of my favorite ending of Miz TV. It’s been a good night.”
Finn squinted at you. “Fun?”
“Yes fun. That wasn’t all I’ve done tonight; I’ve still been sleuthing like we discussed. But I haven’t seen Bray all night. Not backstage, no interference in your match. And nobody I’ve talked too knows where he’s gone too when not sending messages from his rocking chair.” You sighed. “Either he doesn’t see you as a threat anymore, or he’s planning something. I don’t know which is worse.”
“Agreed. Please, be careful. He’s shifty. And stop flirtin’ with Elias.”
“I wasn’t flirting!” You shuffled under Finn’s knowing gaze. “Not much anyways. What’s the phrase? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”
“But not too close.”
You stepped closer to Finn and poked him in the chest. “I’ll get as close as I want, Finn Balor. I can win my own battles, thank you very much.”
Finn glared at you, then let it slip back into this toothy grin. “You are insufferable. Like an annoying little sister.”
“Admit it, you wouldn’t want it any other way.” You giggled as Finn nodded in defeat, then followed him down the hallway.
The reader comes back to the bunker to help Sam with the sanctified blood cure. Dean intercepts her arrival into the bunker and convinces her he’s human. It takes too long to see where his facts don’t add up, but by then it’s too late.
Pairing: Demon Dean x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: SMUT, name-calling, orgasm denial, gagging and bondage, knife use (not in a fun way; including cutting), leaving the reader for dead, angst (damn, that took a turn), slight dub-con, arguably dark!fic
Word Count: 2500+
Note: Happy Dean-o-ween! I had another Dean fic planned, but it needs more time. In the meantime, here’s something a little darker than what I usually write. Again:
If you have a trigger for cutting, do not read this fic.
Please let me know if you liked it or not with comments, likes, and reblogs. Stay safe this Halloween!
The garage sank into silence as you turned off your engine. It had been a long drive; worth it. Sam had finally found Dean. He called you on his way back to the bunker a few days ago, Dean snarking in the backseat.
Sam tried to talk over him, but you could still hear Dean.
“Did you tell her I said hi? How’s my favorite whore?”
White crested over the tops of your knuckles as you gripped the steering wheel. You’d wanted to be there, but took a bad lead and split up from Sam on the hunt. The hunt? Dean was a demon, but he was still in there, not as a monster. The defense sounded pitiful in your head.
You called from ten minutes out to check in.
“He’s… he’s not doing too well.”
“Tell me.” You stepped harder on the gas. “Sam.”
“He’s got all this human blood in him… says it’s burning. Y/N… this cure might be killing him.”
You swallowed hard. “It’s the last chance we have. No matter what, keep going. I’ll be there soon.”
“This had better work,” you grumbled, stepping out of your car.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?”
You flattened yourself against your car, arm outstretched with your favorite knife to Dean’s throat.
“Easy, sweetheart. It’s me.” His eyes searched yours as he kept his hands in the air. Dark circles hung under his eyes. His voice didn’t sound like it did. But demons were crafty, and it wasn’t like they followed good lifestyle habits.
“Prove it.” Using the blade, you guided Dean back so you could rummage in your bag for the flask of holy water. Dean flinched when the liquid touched his skin, but sighed in relief when it didn’t steam. You saw the pricks in his arms from the blood injections. They looked angry and swollen like they were still fighting. Dean wiped off the excess with his shirt quickly under your scrutiny.
“Convinced?” He kept his hands up as you lowered your blade. A second later he chuckled as you rushed to wrap your arms around his waist. He ran his hand through your hair as you buried your face in his chest.
“Are you really okay?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m okay.”
“Where’s Sam?”
Dean took a second to answer. “He went out to grab us some burgers. I could call him so he’ll grab you one too.”
“That’s okay. I ate on the way in.” You pulled back. “He left you alone?”
“I’m supposed to be resting, instead I’ve been testing. I’ve still got some perks. Seems the Mark doesn’t want to let go of some things.”
“Like what?”
Dean’s eyes glittered. “Can’t tell you. Have to show you.” His head tilted to one side as he watched you consider his proposition. When you took too long to answer he grinned and snapped his fingers. You found yourself sandwiched between him and the wall on the other side of the garage. “Like this for one thing. Cool, right?”
You giggled. “It will certainly come in handy later.”
“Hopefully sooner than later.” He kissed your forehead. “I’ve missed you so much.” He ran the tip of his nose down the curves of your face. Dean’s lips hovered over yours. You knew he wouldn’t initiate. He needed to know you wanted him. Needed him as much as he needed you.
You bobbed on your tiptoes to press your lips against his. He was tentative at first, barely parting his lips. But you ran your tongue over his bottom lip, drawing a groan from him. His hands began to roam your body hungrily. He gripped your hips and your arms and then your breasts like he was relearning your form. You let out a shuddered breath as he let one slip under your shirt to snake up and play with your aroused nipples. The other hand played with the waistband of your jeans. He popped the button and inched his fingers into your heat.
“Damn, Y/N. Did you miss me?” He chuckled when you could only gasp in reply. He dipped a finger into your slick and spread it up to your clit. Your hips jerked forward under his ministrations. You continued to buck onto his hand and scissoring fingers until your breaths were coming out in bursts. He kissed you hard and thrusts his tongue out of time with his hand untill you were crying into his mouth.
Dean rested his head on the wall over your shoulder. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”
“Let’s.” You closed your eyes against the dizziness as the air chilled and shifted. When you opened your eyes, your back was against the inside of your bedroom door.
And you were naked.
Dean knocked your hands away as you tried to over yourself. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you before, Y/N. It’s just been a while.” You shuddered as the lock clicked shut. “Now let me look at you.”
He stripped off his shirt and sat on the edge of your bed. His eyes eased across your body, resting on your breasts, your hips, your thighs, then flicking up to your face. You were thrumming with need, shivering. Dean curled a finger, summoning you.
“Come here.”
You walked to him on unsteady legs. Dean guided you down to sit on one of his thighs. His jeans scratched pleasantly between your thighs; you couldn’t help but rolling your hips a few times. Dean’s hands flashed to grip your thighs, stilling you.
“Do you trust me?” His deep voice reverberated with need, and something playful. You mirrored him licking his lips and nodded. From his back pocket, he pulled out a bandana. He tied a knot in the middle, then held it questioningly over your lips. You opened your mouth. “I really want to hear you, sweetheart, but I’m supposed to be resting. Don’t want to traumatize Sam.” The bandana slipped coarse over your tongue as Dean tied it around the back of your head. You nodded to let him know it wasn’t too tight.
The bandana did its job as you squealed into it when Dean flipped you under him. He helped you wriggle further up the bed. His head ducked down to kiss across your collarbone, then down between your breasts. One hand massaged one breast while his mouth attended to the other. You arched until your back ached, desperately trying to somehow feel him closer to you. Dean groaned as you dug your nails down his back and down his ribs.
“You keep playing like that, sweetheart, you’re going to get yourself into trouble,” he growled. You hummed back in response and kept your nails moving over his abs. He chuckled. “Just like old times, huh? You still don’t know how to behave.” His green eyes sparkled as you batted your eyelashes. His head twisted to one side as he dipped into thought. “Just like old times…”
Dean moved away from you, ignoring your whine of separation. He kneeled by the bed and shuffled some things around under the frame. His face broke out into a grin when he found what he was looking for. The red silken ropes dangled between his fingers. You bought the set as a joke one year. It made you smile to remember how much Sam blushed and stumbled over his words when Dean pulled the ropes proudly out of the box. Dean’s present came to you later.
“Thinking about Christmas?” He smiled as you nodded. “You were a genius, just in case I never told you.”
“Weher?” you cheekily questioned through the gag. He chuckled and tied one end of each rope to the wrists you held up to him. You looked at him quizzically when he pulled your arms up at an odd angle so he could tie the ropes to the legs of the bed instead of to the headboard. You forgot to worry about it when his fingers danced down your arms to breasts. He played with them again until you were arching into his touch. When his hand drew away you focused on breathing while Dean stripped out of his jeans and briefs. As much as you hated to think it, the demon life had done his body some good. It was thicker in all the right places, healthier, free of the usual Dean Winchester guilt besides the dark circles under his eyes. And his cock was perfect as ever. With a snap, you realized you were staring. Dean smirked as you met his gaze.
“You ready?”
You nodded eagerly. Dean ran his warm hand down your arm to cup your cheek, then down your torso and your thigh. He crawled up the bed between your legs, putting on as much of a show as he was probably getting from your desperate breathing.
Dean smeared his leaking precome over his head and gave his length a few pumps. He leaned up, nearly nose to nose with you, feeling your breath on his face as he teased his head at your entrance.
“I’ve missed you, Y/N.”
He went slow for a while, then with a wink he sheathed himself fully. He waited for you to start breathing again before setting a furious pace. If this had been any other time, you would have thought he was racing some unknown clock. You couldn’t find the mental acuity to care. Your world dilated to the sensation of the rope digging into your wrists. The feeling of Dean’s body sliding against yours while his length slid in and out of you. The lightning coursing through you with each thrust until it felt like your skin was on fire. You closed your eyes to focus on listening to him grunt and growl. You’d never told him, but the sound of him was your favorite part. You could always tell when he was close by the sounds he made. By the sounds he was making right now.
When you opened your eyes, his green irises had been eclipsed by black.
Dean laughed openly as you screamed and writhed beneath him. He stopped his thrusts as you struggled to move away from him, an impossible venture.
“It was all worth it to see your face. I wondered what would give me away. Not the gag. Not the ropes. You are incredibly trusting, Y/N.”
Your mind reeled with every moment since you pulled into the garage. How easy you had made it for him. Your mind raced to find a way out, to find some way to call for help. Dean’s eyes made your heart stutter. But the tests?
“I was just as surprised as you when the holy water didn’t steam like usual. Seems there is enough human blood in me to make my blood not boil; was enough to get out of the trap too. Still burned like hell, though. Either way, we would have ended up here. With you about to beg for my cock like the slut you are.” Dean’s thighs flexed as he restrained himself from thrusting into you. Your walls contracted when his cock twitched inside you. “Do you want to come, Y/N? I have all the time in the world to wait for your answer.” You shuddered as he kept his black eyes on you while dragging a finger down your cheek. He reached out to tweak your nipple, chuckling when you squeaked. “I can wait, but I don’t think you can. Come on, one last good fuck, and then you can fight to ‘sanctify’ me. Deal?”
Your chest ached from heaving and gasping for breath. Your skin was slick with sweat. Already you could feel your release dribbling away. If you gave him what he wanted, would it be enough to distract him so you could get away? In tugging on the ropes, you could already feel them loosening like the knot was designed to.
“Het ghe cogh Dmphnn, theeze.”
“What was that?”
With a groan you wiggled your hips, your eyes rolling back in your head with the friction. In your mind you screamed for him to let you come, pleaded, reminding him that he was close too. That he never had been the patient one. Your heart thundered in your chest as Dean’s eyes flicked to green. He leaned down and sucked on your bottom lip under the gag.
You shrieked as Dean pulled almost all the way out and then thrust into you hard. He bit down on your shoulder as his hips continued their former pace. The edges of your vision began to fade out. Your eyes closed and you bit down on the gag, screaming through the waves of release flying through you. Your screaming continued as Dean kept thrusting into you, chasing his own release. When you opened your eyes, his black ones were staring down at you. Your muscles contracted in fear, pulling a shout from Dean as he came. He fell on top of you, crushing you under his weight.
He eventually rolled off you to stand next to the bed. His fingers glided up your arm toward the rope holding your wrist captive. You held your breath as he fumbled with the threads. Your blood ran cold as you felt the bonds tighten. Dean’s eyes flicked to green to glint at your eyes wide in fear. A blink later he was clothed and looking as fresh as you had seen him in the garage.
And he had your knife.
He pulled the tip up your stomach, just light of breaking your skin but with enough pressure to remind you he could gut you like a fish with a flick of his wrist.
“Sam’s probably figured out I’m not in the operation room by now. He could be roaming the halls right now, looking for me.” The blade circled around your breasts, then continued up across your collarbone and up your arm. “It’s been a while since we last played hide-n-seek, but I’m up for one more game before I kill him too.”
You winced as the knife cut through your skin by the rope.
“I’m a simple man with simple pleasures. Or should I say, a simple demon?” He gave your wrist a rough squeeze, jump starting the draining. He did the same to your other wrist, despite your struggling.
“Dmphnnn!” Your muffled cries made him snicker. He was just closing the door behind him when he turned around and pointed like he had forgotten something. With a snap of his fingers, your clothes appeared on your body. They were warm like Dean had pulled them out of the dryer.
“Can’t having you catch cold. Gotta keep that blood flowing.”
He left you in the dark.
Dean’s head rolled from one side to the other. Sam and Cas were immediately on the defense as his eyes cracked open. He blinked in the light as the darkness faded away.
“You guys seem worried,” he rasped.
Sam shared a glance with Cas, then splashed holy water on Dean’s face. Dean flinched, then looked up at them with clear eyes.
“Welcome back, Dean.” Sam’s voice cracked.
Dean smiled back, then memories came rushing back through the broken damn. “Y/N. Oh, God. Get me out of these! Cas, get to Y/N’s room. Now.” He tore from the chair and ran down the hall.
Finn is taking a beating in a match with Elias when an old friend shows up. The reader finishes the fight, then argues with Finn about his path in the WWE.
Pairing: None (yet)
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, language
Word Count: 1114
Note: I don’t like how the Sister Abigail story is going, so I want to try my hand at it. [Edit: Now I know everyone is sick. They got painted into a corner; I still want to try my own bit.] Also, I’m thinking about trying to work for WWE, and the goal is to get into creative. But I want to see if I can keep up with a wrestling serial and keep it good first. I will really appreciate feedback during this series. I’m not trying to fix what they’re writing, just putting my own spin on it. Any notes you’ve got to help me along, they will all be read and loved. Reblogging the life out of this so I can get more feedback from more people will be awesome! I’m still going to write my normal fics, so if you have a request or want to be put on a tag list, let me know! Otherwise, here is the first part. Enjoy!
Finn’s head bounced off the canvas. He groaned and rolled out from under Elias’s impending curb stomp. Though it took some effort, Finn made it to his feet with enough left-over energy to kick Elias in the face over his shoulder. The Balor Club leader rolled over his opponent’s chest, silently begging for the count to be quick.
It was, but not quick enough.
Elias flipped and grabbed Finn by the throat. He threw him into the far turnbuckle, smiling when Finn shouted in pain and fell to his knees. They both knew Finn didn’t have much fight left. Weeks of feuding with Bray had drained the once vibrant Finn; Elias was more than willing to play with the scraps. Elias continued to toy with him, tossing him around the ring with seeming ease.
You heard the announcers over the video playing back-stage. You stood with Kurt Angle, though just off-screen of the camera watching him.
“Elias has got Finn’s number tonight. I haven’t seen Finn looking this defeated since Summer Slam,” one of them said.
“But it’s Finn. He still won that fight, dislocated shoulder and all. I just hope it won’t come that close again.”
You’d heard enough. With a nod to Kurt, you headed to the Gorilla. Music similar enough to Finn’s to make Elias pause in his assault played over the speakers. You burst through the curtain and ran to the ring. You dragged Finn to the edge, then moved him out of the ring.
“Y/N? What are you doing here? I have to get back in there.” He tried to jolt to his feet but fell back holding one of the several sore places on his body. “Don’t do what I think you’re about to do.”
“Too late.”
You left Finn sitting on the floor where he could still see the ring and hopped through the ropes. Elias looked between you and the ref who was getting instructions on his headset.
“You good to finish this fight with her?” he asked. Elias nodded. The ref circled his hand in the air and motioned for the two of you to fight.
Elias smirked as you let the Balor club jacket drop from your shoulders. It had barely hit the floor outside the ring before he was running towards you. He growled when you ducked out of the way. You matched his turn with a high kick to his face. He fell back into the ropes. He rubbed his chin with an impressed grin as he came back to his feet.
You continued to share blows, wearing him down, slowing him down, then speeding up to throw him off rhythm. He was taller and stronger than you, so you kept your blows to mostly kicks, using the bottom rope for an extra height jump when necessary. But he stayed on his feet. Blow after blow thundered into your torso. Your shoulders. You barely avoided one that would have laid you out. Elias stomped off with a growl.
You took his moment of thought to roll him up and keep him under you with all the weight you could.
The bell rung seconds after you released Elias from the three-count. He surged towards you again, but you rolled out under the ropes to Finn’s side. He watched as the two of you backed your way up the ramp. Chants of “Balor Club” filled the air, but you barely heard them.
Backstage you helped Finn to sit on a props box. He slumped against the wall.
“What are ya doin’ here, Y/N? You’re supposed to be home.”
“I’m trying to help out a friend, but he doesn’t seem happy to see me.”
Finn sighed. “I’m happy ta see ya and all, but I didn’t need your help tonight.”
“I know. But what you do need is someone who can help you take a little bit of a break. You’ve been non-stop trying to fight towards the title, but it keeps falling more out of reach the more tired you are.” Finn started to speak but you cut him off. “Tell me I’m wrong.” You stayed standing by his side though you wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Your arms slipped from their crossed position as Finn looked off into space.
“What am I doing here, Y/N? Since coming back, I can’t seem to keep it together long enough to be much of a threat to anybody.”
“You’re letting your conscience rule you. That was fine when we were still in training and had to be willing to talk to one another the next day, but that won’t work here.”
“I don’t wanna release the demon. Despite what I told Bray, the demon is more pow’rful than the man. I may have created ‘im out of my drive and determination, but all of that feels like it’s slippin’ away. If I lose much more, I don’t want anyone to see a weakened Demon King.” Finn’s shoulders slumped further than they were before. You breathed through the tightness in your chest seeing him carry the weight on his soul.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You were livi’ yer life. I wanted you to be my last resort if the king failed.” Finn sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should‘ve called you.”
“Yeah, you should have. But we’re past that. Now to get you on your feet again. First, you are going to sleep. I don’t care if I have to knock you out, and you know I can.” You smiled as Finn chuckled in agreement. “In the morning I’m going to find us a place for you to get a real breakfast. Then you’re going to show me around town, relax a bit.”
“I can’t stop training.”
“I know. Trust me, the boys sent me with a list of things for you to do to get that drive and determination back. Deal?”
“What deal? What are you getting out of this?”
“I don’t have to watch my best friend get his ass kicked by people feeding off his exhaustion. And I’ll get to beat up a few of them till your back to full power. Already talked to Angle.”
“Wait, you’re comin’ to Raw? To stay?”
“Short contract. I’m here as long as you need me. And don’t think you’re gonna get rid of me before then. You’re stuck with me Balor, whether you like it or—” Finn cut off your rant with a tight hug around your waist. You rubbed up and down his back, feeling the tension ease out of them already.
“Thanks, Y/N. Really.” He pulled away and beamed up at you. “So… what do you want to see tomorrow?”
A mission demands the public appearance of Bruce Wayne and yourself at a theater. The mission is quickly put to rest, which leaves you plenty of time to appreciate your husband during intermission.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader (Y/N)
Warning: SMUT, public smut, Mr./Mrs. Kink (Is that a thing, or is it just my favorite cute trope? Either way, it’s here.)
Word Count: ~1300
Note: My first Batman smut! It was fun using the different layers between Bruce and Batman and the man in-between that loves the reader. I highly recommend looking up Lysistrata; it’s a Greek comedy with humor that still translates. You can find a good online English translation here. Please let me know if you enjoyed it with likes, comments, and reblogs. If you have any ideas for another Bruce fic, send it to me! I love challenges. And my tag lists are open. Please enjoy!
“Here are your seats, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne.” The usher pulled back the curtain in the private box to reveal two seats.
“Thank you, Robert. We’ll see you after the final curtain.” Bruce slipped the usher a tip and sat next to you.
“What’s the point of box seats, again? We can’t see half the stage?” You restrained yourself from leaning over the railing like an eager child.
“Wayne industries helped produce the show, and they want to show us off. We can come again and sit like peasants if you’d like.” Bruce’s face cracked into a grin. A real one. Not the variety that made appearances when the former playboy would make trouble.
“And Wayne industries funded a production of Lysistrata because…”
“It amuses Bruce Wayne.” He chuckled again as you shot eyebrows at him again. “The acting troupe is riddled with Music Meister’s henchmen working as techies.” Bruce tapped his earpiece and dropped his voice, “Nightwing?”
“Loud and clear. We’re in position,” you heard on your matching com.
“Good. Let me know if the missus and I have to leave early.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Bruce took your hand as the lights flickered in the theater signaling the show was about to start. He set his public face as the lights faded out completely and the curtain parted.
Nightwing continued to check in during the first act. Even with the mission going on, you found yourself being pulled into the mission of the women in the comedic play. They all agreed to deny their husbands sex until the war between the Athenians and the Trojans was stopped. Women on both sides took the oath, much to the chagrin of the soldiers. Not half a bad idea. You found yourself laughing honestly; Bruce was doing the same. The audience broke into applause and laughter as the curtains closed on the first act. You and Bruce left the front of the box and paced the private lounge area behind the curtain.
Over the coms, you listened to the mission end as Nightwing and Damian fought off the henchmen. Meister wasn’t there, but they soon found his speakers in a back-stage storage room.
“Good job, everyone. Call me if anything happens after the police collect the Meister minions.”
“A ‘good-job’ and alliteration?” Nightwing whistled. “This play has put you in a very good mood.”
“Yes. Over and out.” Bruce tugged the com out of his ear and turned it off before dropping it his pocket. You followed suit, confused.
“Bruce?” You gasped as he pinned you to the wall. “What are you doing?”
“I’m preparing to fuck my wife,” he whispered in your ear. His hands were tight around your waist. You knew he could feel you shiver.
You licked your lips. “Oh? What gave you that idea? Surely not the play.”
“Yes, the damned play. It is humorous, but what is really getting to me is seeing you laugh for the first time in months.”
“We’ve been busy.”
Bruce’s hand dipped down to the slit in your dress, lightly running a finger over your exposed skin. “I know. Late nights where one or both of us is out doing what we do. Early mornings for our public roles.”
“Not much time for each other,” you sighed, catching on. The heat thrumming through your body started to collect between your thighs. It began to leak into your panties as Bruce hummed deeply in agreement.
“I hope you won’t make me wait ‘till all crime in Gotham is over to let me fuck you.” His eyes bored into yours. His chest caught the swell of your heightened breathing. You could never hide your tells with him. Never wanted too. “So tell me, Mrs. Wayne… how long are you going to make me wait?”
“About three seconds.”
All the women in Greece and Troy would never have been able to turn down a man like Bruce.
His fingers wove into your hair as he guided your lips to meet his. Before long, you were parting your lips for his tongue, humming in pleasure. Bruce’s hand on your thigh continued to work up under your gown. You shuddered as he grazed over your soaked panties. He kept kissing you, keeping your sounds muffled, while he dipped under the band and inserted a finger into your ready sex. He moved your skirt out of the way, baring the sight of his hand pumping in an out of you into the open. He chuckled, rightfully proud of himself.
But two could play at that game.
You reached out and lightly ran your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. Bruce groaned into your mouth, chuckling to match your smile.
“Y/N, you have no idea how much I love you.”
“Actually, I think I have a big idea how much you love me.” You unbuckled his pants and tugged the zipper down as slowly as you could muster. Bruce growled, then whimpered as you worked your hand over his length still covered in his boxers. “If you want it, Mr. Wayne,” you breathed into his ear while easing out his manhood, “you might want to hurry before intermission ends.”
A squeak escaped your lips as Bruce lifted you settle on his hips. He moved your panties to one side and toyed the tip at your slit, eyes glittering as you stifled a whimper. You covered your mouth to silence the impending scream when he winked. Your hand was barely enough to cover up the swell of sensations as he sheathed himself in you in one thrust. You shuddered and trembled as your walls gripped him tight. Bruce rested his forehead on yours until you nodded, then began to roll his hips. If there had been more time, endless time, he would have kept this pace till you were begging for him. Instead, he began to thrust faster and harder. You knew the curtain into the house of the theater was too thin to muffle all of your cries and moans.
You didn’t care.
Spots danced in front of your eyes as Bruce twisted in just the right way to find your perfect place. He sucked down on your pulse point, heightening every pulse of pleasure. Your nails raked down the back of his suit jacket, feeling the bullet-proof vest hidden beneath his layers. His hands gripped your thighs, careful not to cut himself on the knives you always kept strapped there. His thumb grazed the band strapping the blade to your thigh.
“My dangerous beauty,” Bruce rasped. His pace began to falter. “Mine.”
Your head lolled to one side as your orgasm came crashing down. Careful of your heels, you dug your feet into the small of Bruce’s back, drawing him impossibly further into you for his release. He came silently besides panting heavily, steadying himself on the wall. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly as he gave one last thrust.
The following kiss was sloppy, openmouthed, exhausted in the best way. Bruce pulled out carefully and steadied you till you could trust your legs to mostly support your weight.
You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. “Are you ready to see if the Greeks and Trojans ever got laid again, Mr. Wayne?”
“Yes.” He did that annoying thing where he fixed his sex-hair by running his finger through it. “Are you, Mrs. Wayne?”
“Yes.” You parted the curtain once the two of you were presentable as if nothing had happened. Coms were back online and in place by the time he guided you to your seat. You swallowed a smile as Bruce ran his hands down your shoulders. “Please silence your cell phones and please keep your hands to yourself,” you teased.
“No promises.”
The rest of the play was just as fantastic as the first act, and it inspired much more action once Bruce got you back to the manor. You might have to start asking for more such outings more often.
[If you’re interested in a more modern rendition of Lysistrata, there’s a fantastic movie on Amazon Prime entitled Chi-Raq. It’s set in modern Chicago and uses recent events in place of the ancient war. I highly recommend it. There is language and some nudity, not to mention high levels of sexual innuendo. Do not watch with anyone under the age of 18! I also love that they keep the idea of Greek plays being in verse by updating it to include rap. Check it out if you get the chance!]
The reader can’t muster up the courage to talk to the cute barista until she has a really bad day. Technically, he talks to her first, and just when she needs him the most.
Pairing: Barista!Sami Zayne x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: fluff, terrible bosses
Word Count: ~980
Note: I thought I’d try my hand at Sami Zayne. Please let me know how I did with comments, likes, and reblogs! My tag lists are open if you like my work, and so are my requests if there’s a fic/smut-less character out there you would like to read. Please enjoy!
It was a pleasant little coffee shop; the “Espresso Express” was equipped with anything a busy business person could wish for in the morning. It had a small display of pastries, its own roasting machine in the back, and a plethora of espresso machines. The most common delight of patrons was the slightly curved bar that ran most of the length of the shop. The standing bar made service extra quick and fun due to its closeness to the coffee action.
As for you, the main attraction was a certain barista with bright red hair and a smile brighter than the sun.
His deft hands had small cups and plates in front of patrons with a flip. Espresso was measured and served with the timing of a master. And empty cups were left on the counter no longer than ten seconds. At the same time, you had almost seen him tip a tray of drinks with the same hands if he was telling a quick story. They seemed to flip about on their own, making you giggle as one of his fellow baristas ducked to avoid a concussion.
If you were braver, you would talk to him. Unfortunately, you had no such courage. Or luck. You had mustered up the strength to talk to him once with the help of your friends one Friday morning but he had completely missed you. His eyes glanced right over you to the spillage further down the bar and he rushed to it. Instead, you were served by the dark-haired barista; handsome too, but intense and always fawned over by the college women between classes.
It took you another whole month to find that strength again.
“What can I get for you today?”
“A cap… a cappuccino. Please.”
“Coming right up.”
And that was it. You paid by the pastry display to the other barista and left quickly. But at least it was a start, right?
Then disaster struck.
You should have sucked it up and asked your roommate for a ride. Called a taxi. Or put off the presentation for next week. Instead, you left the apartment without checking the weather and carried your presentation notes in a simple non-water-proof manila folder. Between the two blocks between your apartment building and the coffee shop, with two more to your office, you went from enjoying the sunniest day in history to arriving soaked and distraught.
The folder landed with a loud plop on the back corner table. It soon spread its puddle outwards till it was dripping on the floor. Your equally wet scarf did nothing to help the mess. With your head resting on your hands you didn’t notice you had a visitor. Your shoulders tensed as his voice cut through your personal thundercloud.
“What can I get for you today?”
You peaked through your fingers into his bright blue eyes, all the brighter framed in his red curls.
“A puddle to swallow me,” you muttered under your breath.
He chuckled. “If you don’t mind me saying so… it seems the puddle already spit you back out.” He nodded towards your folder. “Is there anything I can do to help with that?
“Not really unless you’ve got a hairdryer in the back.” You let your head sink all the way to the table as he shook his head.
“I don’t think we do. But we do have a fridge that gets hot on top. Do you want to try drying them that way? How much time do you have till your presentation?”
You checked your still-dry phone. (Yay Autobox.) “An hour and a half. If I had waited till my usual time instead of trying to be early I could have known to carry an umbrella.”
“Your boss can’t hold it against you for trying. Let me take those and get you a coffee. Cappuccino, right?” You barely had time to respond before he was off like a shot. He spun in place after a few steps. “Name’s Sami by the way.”
“Y/N.”
Half an hour later your presentation was dry but you hadn’t moved. You giggled as Sami’s hands flew through the air.
“The jazzy version of ‘Moves Like Jagger’ is definitely in my top five oddest songs I’ve heard in the shop.”
“Was it on someone’s phone?”
“No, just on some YouTube playlist one of us found. The rest was fine, just your usual jazz mix we play. This one had slowed down pop and classic rock songs mixed in. Your turn. Top three oddest phone calls to your office?”
You took a breath to tell the story, but it came out in a squeak as your phone buzzed. A tap of your thumb later you cursed under your breath. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?” Sami looked at you. “Did they move up the meeting? I didn’t make you late did I?”
“No, my boss is just…” You held up your phone in front of your face and read, “Hey, Y/N. Sorry I’m telling you late, but we decided last night to move this morning’s presentation to next week. Feel free to take today off, I’ll see you Monday.” Sami frowned as you tsk-ed. “Asshole.”
“Agreed. But do you know what else that means?”
“What?”
“That you can come out to lunch with me. That is… is… if you want to. I thought since we’d already had the coffee then a lunch date would be next. Unless you just want lunch. Doesn’t have to be a date; doesn’t have to be today. There’s a good place I like a few blocks away but I have a gift card and I could give it to you if you want to go by yourself sometime. If you want.” His cheeks had tinted a rosy pink and you held your cup close to you as his hands stopped mid-flight to clasp tightly in his lap.
fellow writers on tumblr are always going on about how minors read their nsfw/ 18+ blogs even when the author themselves could get in serious legal trouble so i thought maybe if they knew exactly what could happen they’d stop, this link (https://www.justice.gov/criminal-ceos/citizens-guide-us-federal-law-obscenity) provides information about distributing obscene material to minors, i.e. smut since its a form of pornography. it states “There are also laws to protect children from obscene or harmful material on the Internet. For one, federal law prohibits the use of misleading domain names, words, or digital images on the Internet with intent to deceive a minor into viewing harmful or obscene material (See 18 U.S.C. §§ 2252B, 2252C). It is illegal for an individual to knowingly use interactive computer services to display obscenity in a manner that makes it available to a minor less than 18 years of age (See 47 U.S.C. § 223(d) –Communications Decency Act of 1996, as amended by the PROTECT Act of 2003). It is also illegal to knowingly make a commercial communication via the Internet that includes obscenity and is available to any minor less than 17 years of age (See 47 U.S.C. § 231 –Child Online Protection Act of 1998).” so basically if nobody wants to read that just know that these writers could be fined or sent to jail because the minors on tumblr made a dumb fucking decision and wouldnt follow laws or the requests of the author.
Steve comes back from an undercover mission where he couldn’t shave. The reader is excited to experience the extra pleasure it brings.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: SMUT, uniform kink (?), dirty talk, teasing, open ending
Word Count: ~1460
Note: Felt the need for Steve. I’m still trying to work on my dirty talk, so please let me know if I’m doing okay (or if I’m improving if you’ve read my other stuff.) Leve me a comment or a note if you reblog. Likes are great too. Let me know if you’ve got an idea for a fic, or if you would like to be added to a tag list. Now please enjoy!
The clock couldn’t tick fast enough. You were practically bouncing on your heels watching the seconds and minutes creep by until Steve would be home.
Three months.
Three months undercover on the other side of the world. No communication. No intel coming in until the end of the mission. No time for pleasantries when it did. It was a success, of course, but then came the extra few days to wrap everything up, and the paperwork to do at the local base, and then the long flight back to the tower.
You knew he would be tired. You worried that something might have happened and stirred up old hurts. You feared the nightmares that might come, waking you both up with his cold sweats and shouts in the darkness.
But you also looked forward to working out post-mission adrenaline.
Finally, you heard the tell-tale sound of the crew filing out of the garage. Tony was proudly talking about some invention of his that had worked “perfectly.”
“Yes. Right up to where it blew up in our faces.” Barton scurried past you towards the kitchen. “Sweet chocolate chip cookies and good coffee, how I’ve missed you.”
You chuckled and stood on your tip toes looking for Steve. Your eyes glanced right over him at first before landing on the new addition to his face.
“How’d this come to be?” You grinned and walked over to run your hand over the rough growth. Mentally, you took note to the arousal blossoming within you.
Steve leaned into your hand and pulled you close. “I’ve got a face that kinda sticks out. It wasn’t the best plan to wear glasses all the time. Tony suggested that I grow it out.”
He steadied you as you stood on your tip toes. “Don’t tell him,” you whispered in his ear, “but he’s a genius.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that secret,” he laughed.
“What secret?” Tony asked poking his head around the corner.
“Nothing,” you both replied in unison. After Tony went his own way you gave Steve’s scruff a slight tug, grinning wickedly as his slight groan.
“I bet this will feel good.”
Steve looked down at you quizzically. His eyes glittered and darkened as he placed his hand over yours still resting on his face. “I bet it will.” You shrieked as he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you to his room. It was next to yours, but you spent more time in his than your own.
He dropped you on the bed, laughing along with you as you giggled and bounced. He started to open his uniform; his fingers froze when you whined.
“Could… could you leave it on?” Your cheeks were already flushed, but you were sure they could ignite candles after asking.
“Sure.” He ran his fingers up under your shirt, humming in delight to feel the lace of the bra he called his favorite. “I’ve missed the feel of your skin. The taste of you. Are you going to soak me, Y/N? Dig your heels into my back, squeeze your thighs around my head?” He finished removing your shirt and smashed his mouth to yours. His fingers entwined with yours over your head. You mewled into his mouth as he ground his hips against yours. He chuckled, pulling away to kiss down your jawline. You were pinned with barely enough room to arch as he licked and nipped his way down to the valley of your breasts. He blew cold air between them, then left you bereft.
“Steve!” You came to rest on your elbows and pouted at him. The terse press of your lips slipped away as you saw the glint in his eye.
“Strip for me?”
His face broke out into a huge grin as you hastily unclasped your bra and flung it away. He helped you out of your pants. With two curled fingers, knuckles pressing into your skin, he pulled down your panties and ran his nose from your knee to your hip. He twisted his head, making sure to scratch your skin with his beard.
“Feel good yet, baby?”
You could only sigh in response.
Then you were arching off the bed as Steve buried his face into your heat. Three months of his absence heightened everything you were feeling. Hot in your chest, in your thighs. Cold in your toes. With every lap of his tongue, pleasure spangled through your veins. With every suck on your clit, constriction in your throat making your voice sound needy and strained. His name fell from your lips broken and soaring. You were so close. Everything was building almost too fast. Steve gripped your hips and held you in place as you writhed. You shivered as he chuckled into you as your thighs tightened around his head. Your thighs tingled with the burn of his scruff. His teeth grazed your clit, then he was gone.
He silenced your cry of annoyed anguish with a teeth-smashing kiss. You could hear the slight clang of his buckle being loosened. Then his hard length was pressed against your stomach, trapped between you and the suit. He gasped as you wrapped your hand around him and smeared the leaking precome over the tip. You gave him a slight twist and squeeze, smiling in victory as his head collapsed into the sheets over your shoulder.
“You tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?”
“Maybe,” you whispered into his ear. You gave the shell a lick and giggled as his hand flashed to lay over yours on his length.
You both gave a moan as he guided his length into you. Your gasps of pleasure became groans of frustration. No matter how much you rolled your hips to match his thrusts, no matter how harshly you dug your heels into his back, Steve refused to move any faster than what felt like a snail’s pace. Your nails scratched down the back of his uniform. You almost hoped the fabric would rip if only he would move faster. His breath was even on your throat as he kissed and sucked on your sweet spot. Damn the patience of a soldier!
“Steve!” You held the words out long, your voice quivering with the sensation of his thrusts. “Fast now, slow later. Please?”
Steve whispered in your ear, “you sure, Y/N? You want it fast? Want to scream my name as you squeeze my cock with your pussy? You know you scream louder when I’m fast. Do you want the whole tower to hear? To have them know for sure that you’re mine? Tell me, how much do you want it?”
All the air in your lungs fueled your scream as Steve twisted his hips and began a furious pace. You could barely catch your breath as thrust after thrust speared you, searching. At the last second, Steve lifted up to watch your face as his found the place that made your lips part in a silent cry of pleasure. Your eyes closed on his proud face. Behind your eyelids, your vision exploded into a blinding light. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you down to match the movement of his hips. You could hear his grunts turn into desperate moans as his hips faltered.
“You feel so good, Y/N. So… damn… perfect.” His voice fell away into a guttural growl as he came. Each jolt of cum made your legs quake. When he was done he fell on top of you, barely brace himself on the bed so not to crush you. Not that it would have been the worst way to die.
Once he caught his breath he rolled off to the side, eyes closed in bliss. You summoned up the remnants of your strength from under the layers of drowsiness and leaned up to rest on his chest. Your fingers absently twirled in his new beard. A thought popped into your head, and you carried out the query with another gentle tug.
“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”
“Perhaps. But I have a new thing to play with, none the less. I thought you liked it when I played?”
Steve opened his eyes to stared down at you. “How was playing with the suit?”
You took a second to faux-think. “Fun, but I want to feel you, nothing in the way, for round two.”
Steve’s head fell back with a chuckle. “You really are going to be the death of me.” He gave you a side-eyed look, then pinned you beneath him again. He rubbed his face across your cheeks and down to your throat before coming back up to kiss your eyelids. “But I’m not going to argue with you. Think you can handle it?”
The reader is teaming up with Mustafa Ali for a match, but Elias doesn’t like how handsy the cruiserweight is. The Drifter takes the reader to a dark corner to remind her who completes her best.
Pairing: Elias Samson x Reader (Y/N), appearances by Mustafa Ali and Alexa Bliss
Warnings/Promises: SMUT, threat of being seen, slight dom!Elias, oral (male & female receiving), dirty talk + name calling, language
Word Count: ~1920
Note: It is still my opinion that there is not enough Elias smut. So here is another fic for your pleasure. Please let me know if you enjoyed it with likes, comments, and reblogs. If you have an idea for an Elias fic (or for any WWE, Supernatural, Marvel, or DC character) send me a request! My tag lists are open. Again, thank you guys so much. Please enjoy!
“Okay, when you jump, make sure to keep your feet together.” Mustafa Ali’s voice sounded far away even though he was standing right behind you. But he had his feet on the canvas; yours were balancing precariously on the ropes. “Jump when you’re ready. I’ll catch you.”
“Jump. Right,” you mumbled. You always hated backflips. And jumping into unknown airspace in general. “Just jump?”
“And I’ll catch you. You’ve got this.”
With a final deep breath, you bent your knees to the proper tension level. Then you hopped from one rope to the other before launching yourself in the air to form Mustafa’s Spanish Springboard flip. You planked where he would usually grab his opponent so his arms could catch your waist. Seconds after he caught you, he tossed you again to flip you so he could hold you bridal-style.
“See! That was fantastic. When we face Sasha and Swann we’re sure to win.”
“I’ll agree with you when my legs stop feeling like jello. Thanks for stepping up to help with Sasha. She knew I don’t really know anyone in the cruiserweights and thought I’d back down if she teamed up with Swann. Management wouldn’t let Elias help.”
“No problem. I’m glad to help.”
You couldn’t help but notice how close his face was. Almost nose to nose. “You can put me down now.”
Mustafa blinked a few times. “Oh. Sure.” He gently dropped your feet and kept his hand on the small of your back till you were steady. “Do you want to try again, or…”
“Maybe later. I’m meeting up with Alexa in catering.” You exited the ring and grabbed your stuff. “Thanks for the lesson, Mustafa.” You didn’t stay to hear his reply. Maybe if you had you would have noticed the familiar figure in the shadows of the arena watching the whole thing.
After changing into some sweats and a tank top you grabbed some food with Alexa. She was excited for your visitor match on 205 but not so much with your Springboard lesson.
“Does Elias know this happened? Is he the jealous type?”
“Not really. He knows I’d never leave him, so there’s really no point for him to be jealous.”
Alexa shrugged and the conversation moved on the other topics. You didn’t think anything of hearing Elias’s footsteps behind you, or when his arm wrapped around your waist.
You did gasp in surprise when he lifted you out of your chair and threw you over his shoulder.
“Elias! What are you doing? Where are we going?” Question after question fell from your lips but he remained as silent as ever.
“Do you need some help?” Alexa asked with a smile.
“I don’t think so. But I’ll let you know!” you called as Elias rounded a corner.
He didn’t say a word as he carried you through what seemed to be the most populated and busy places of the arena tunnels. You even passed Mustafa at one point; he looked up at you sheepishly before avoiding your gaze. The hallways got darker and people became less frequent. Finally, he stopped in a corner with a broken light. He slapped your ass before dropping you to your feet.
“Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?” You rubbed your backside as it tingled from his rough touch. Rough, but infuriatingly arousing. You hoped this was going where it seemed to be going.
“How much did he touch you?” Elias’s voice sent heat pooling in your stomach. You had to wet your lips to reply.
“Not much. He had to catch me a few times. In theory that’s not going to happen anymore if you’re worried about it.” Maybe if you… you hummed as you lightly ran your fingers over his crossed arms. “Are you jealous?” You squeaked as his arms suddenly caged you between him and the wall. Perfect.
“I don’t know,” he rumbled, “do I need to be jealous?” Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned in to ghost his lips over your ear, his tongue darting out to lick the shell.
“Never, Elias.” Your resolve slipped and you turned your head to catch him in a kiss. Instead, he backed away with a grin, licking his lips as you whined.
“Easy with the music, sweetheart. Someone could walk this way any minute. And I am not sharing.”
With a nod of his head and a moan from you, you sank to your knees before him. Elias stepped back a bit and smirked down at you as he loudly unclasped his belt buckle and pushed his jeans down his hips. You couldn’t help but grin as he brought his cock closer to your lips. They parted without further prompting.
You flicked your tongue out to lave over his tip, then sloppily kissed your way up and down his length. A low groan escaped his lips as you began to swallow your way further and further. Taking a moment to control your gag reflex, you took him deeper into your throat and hummed. Elias’s hand shot to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly. He didn’t add pressure to your bobbing but reminded you who was in control. His hips bucked, forcing his tip into the back of your throat. He eased out before you could gag. Elias slowly worked his cock back past your lips once you had taken a few solid breaths. You relaxed your jaw as he began to roll his hips. You ran your tongue along his underside and brought your hand up to toy with his balls. The taste of his precum spread through your mouth, making you smile around his length. You watched his face contort in bliss and listened to his strained groans and grunts.
Your panties were wet and seeping into your sweatpants. You drummed your fingers on Elias’s thighs to keep them from wandering down to please yourself. If you were good, the wait would be worth it.
Between hollowing your cheeks and humming in pleasure as his cock worked through your lips, you felt his length give an extra twitch. His hips stopped moving and his fingers pulled back on your hair. You let him go with a satisfying pop. Elias’s face was flushed; his eyes gleamed down at you above his heaving chest.
Elias tugged you to your feet by your shoulders. He wrapped his fingers tightly in your hair as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. “Hmm, you taste like… mine.” You moaned into his mouth, ignorant of where his hands were moving till one dipped into your ring gear and fingers ran over the dampness of your panties. He rested his head on your forehead. “So wet for me? And you didn’t touch yourself the whole time?”
“No. No, sir.” Your heart skipped a beat as Elias’s eyebrow hitched. You had never called him that before. Then he smirked.
“Good girl.”
A thrill shot through you and you melted into his arms. The next thing you knew, your sweats and panties were on the floor. You barely had time to step out of them before Elias was hoisting you over his shoulders and burying his face into your heat. You slapped your hand over your face to muffle the cries of pleasure as he breathed warm air onto your pussy and then began to dip his tongue into your hole. Before long, your body was shiny with sweat and your blood raced through your veins so hot you shivered. Elias didn’t stop as you threaded your fingers through his hair and steadied yourself against the wall.
“You taste so good, Y/N. Better than a melody.” He sucked on your clit, chuckling as your hips ground onto his face. “Come when you are ready, but I want to hear you. Hold nothing back.” Elias growled low one more time, then inserted two fingers into you and continued to lap at your gushing slick. He moaned as your thighs tightened around his head. He worked faster, harder, moving and staying in just the right places in time with your sounds. Your throat was sore from holding back your cries; you let them loose, mangled as they were, like he told you.
His fingers curled into your perfect spot, sending you crashing over the edge. The sensations buzzed through you. Your thighs quaked around his head. Your hips bucked into his face as Elias worked you down from the high. He lowered you to rest on his hips, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. He kissed your closed eyelids.
“Do you have one more in you?”
You could feel his length trapped between your torsos. Looking down, his tip was an angry red and still weeping from sucking him off. You nodded and wiggled your hips attempting to sink down on him. Elias pulled you up close to his face.
“Eager?”
“For you? Always.”
His face brightened into a rare smile. He crashed his lips into yours, working his tongue into your mouth as he slowly eased you down his length. His hands gripped under your ass, guiding you up and down till he was fully sheathed. Elias steadied himself on the wall, slightly crushing you under his weight. His hips refused to move till you constricted your legs around his waist and tightened your walls around his length. He gave a few test thrusts, then he was relentless.
The dark hallway echoed with the sound of his flesh snapping up to meet yours, with the sound of your high-pitched moans, and with his grunts and growls. Your lungs rushed to keep up. Elias gritted his teeth and gripped your ass harder. There would be bruises; you welcomed them. Elias leaned his head down next to your ear.
“You gonna come on my cock like the slut you are? No one fills you like I do. No one gets to touch you like I do. Feel you. Kiss you. Your skin is for my fingertips alone.” His voice cracked and he pistoned his hips faster than you thought possible.
“Only yours, Elias. Only… oh, I’m gonna… please, Elias. Right there.” You bit down on his shoulder to silence your scream as he twisted his hips until he found the place that made your toes curl, your back arch, and your body shiver. Your fingers dug half-moons into his shoulders as he chased his release, prolonging yours.
Elias’s hips faltered, then stilled as rope after rope coated your walls. His strong arms held onto you till you had the strength to stand on your own feet. You ran your fingertips over the mark where you bit him, giving him a worried look.
“I like it,” he said. “Marks me as yours.” He kissed your forehead and gave you his arm to lean on to put your sweatpants back on. Once you were clothed, he pinned you to the wall with his chest. “And my mark is dribbling down your leg. Go grab your stuff so we can go back to the hotel. I want to take my time with you. Don’t make me go in there to get you or it could get,” he shoved his hand under the band of your sweats and thumbed at your sensitive clit, “messy.”
He stepped out of the way and watched as you ran off like a shot. While you would never purposely make him jealous, you couldn’t argue with the results.
Our Deepest Desires 