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Simple Demon, Simple Pleasures

Aebli Leave a comment

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!

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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.

“What have I done?”

 

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

Supernatural: @ilostmyshoe-79 @jensenandjaredintheimpala @jpadjackles  @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r

Dean Winchester: @19mmallory @aimee-grace-01@akshi8278 @ashmonet @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @exp762 @gabbyrogers094 @helloenricanie @idontknow-canyou @its–killing–me @jpadjackles @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67 @livelovebands123 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mein1928 @millie67 @mylostsoul28 @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sabrinaoctaviagunner @sassy-losechester @sissysalvatore @supernatural-jackles @temprence-the-real-satan @thedeanwinchesterx @theriumking @thiickreigns @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @vvinch3st3r @windeango67 

Sister in Arms – Part 1: I Know You Best

Aebli Leave a comment

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!

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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?”

Part 2: Enemies Closer 

Masterlist 

Series Masterlist [Where chapters will be moving forward]

Forever Tags: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @savmontreal @zuni21798

WWE Tags: @that-wwe-image-blog @unabashedwwesmut @wwe-smutfics @roman-reigns-princess @sabrinaoctaviagunner @thetherianthropydaily @thessaswea @ava-lipstickytoffee @sweetxchains @raindrops-and-swag @jgtx18 @mariejr88-blog @fuentesmagix @abominablestrowman279 @hosnapes @sandriie @nikki-saurus-cosplays @cam0flug3 @banrioncethlenn @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @alafairftw @bellambrose @mrsbreezango @ohnoitsmegan @ohnojustimagine @wrestlingbabe @undisputedopc @neversatisfiedgirl @kingslayers-angel @flightofthefantasies @sixdegreesofsamson 

Master List

Aebli Leave a comment

deepdisireslonging:

Series (3+ parts)

(S) = smut

Answered Requests:

Kevin Ford/Wither (X-Men): Touch and Sensitivity (S) Part 2: Bananas (S)

Sherlock (BBC): Knowing What She Likes (S)

Dean Winchester (Supernatural): More Than Usual 

Mojo Rawley (WWE): Flawless (Plus!Reader, S)

One Shots

Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

   The Pointy End (S)

   Love Like Lightning: Part 1 (S) : Part 2

   Marvelous Night for a Rain Dance (S)

   Bullets and Cream – 007 AU (S)

   Your Mother is Going to Kill Me (fluff, implied S)

   What’s Your Favorite Position? (S)

   Simple Man (S) [Deamon!Dean: Coming Soon]

Sam Winchester (Supernatural)

   Deep in the Archives (S)

   Need a Lift? ( SPN Fluff Appreciation Day 2017)

Casifer (Supernatural)

   Forbidden Fun (S)

Elliot Spencer (Leverage)

   The Lingerie Job (S)

Loki (Marvel)

    Sweet Revenge (S)

    All in a Night’s Work (S)

 Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

   Birthday Bash with a Bang (S)

   In the Eye of the Beholder: Part 1 : Part 2 (S)

   Feel What You Feel (S)

   Working it Out (S)

   Breathing 

   Sweetie Pie (S)

Steve Rogers (Marvel)

   Those Who Are Lonely (S)

   Dirty Lips (S)

   Just as Sweet (S)

   Scruff (S)

Red Hood (Jason Todd) (DC)

    Two Hoods, One Revenge (S)

    Supply Shop (S)

    He Needs Me 

    Midnight Run (Implied S)

Nightwing (Dick Grayson) (DC)

   Hey Bartender (Angst)

Batman (Bruce Wayne) (DC)

   A Night at the Theater (S) [Coming Soon]

Jack Gallagher (WWE)

   Snow Kisses (fluff)

   Kitchen Secrets (fluff)

Fergal Devitt / Finn Balor (WWE)

   Fright Club (fluff)

   An Alliance (fluff, wrestling violence)

Sheamus (WWE)

   The Doctor Called (fluff)

Roman Reigns (WWE)

   Such a Tease (S)

Elias Samson (WWE)

   Don’t Let Me Think Alone (family member death, fluff)

   Chiffon in the Streets, Lace in the Sheets (S) 

   Jealous (S)

Sami Zayne (WWE)

    Cappuccino, Right? (Fluff) [Coming Soon!]

Neville (WWE)

   My King (S) [Coming Soon!]

Imagines

   Batfam: Imagine Thanksgiving

   Castiel: Satisfied (S)

   Cesaro (WWE): Pool Toss

Other

  Supernatural Fic-Contest Submission: A Spirit Flying Free 

  Supernatural Smut Apocalypse 2017 

  SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2017: The Pain of Return 

  Petrichor (S, Open Pairing)

A lot of [Coming Soon] fics! 

Do you guys want a definite schedule, or do you want to be surprised as they come out?

Also, I’m planning my Thanksgiving drabbles. What dinner shenanigans do you want to see with the Winchesters, the Avengers, the Bat Family, and the WWE?

Scruff

Aebli Leave a comment

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!

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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?”

“I don’t know. Can you?”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

Marvel List: @anotherfashionandbeautyblog @solsticestorm @supermarvelousfanfics

Steve Rogers List:

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Need a Lift?

Aebli Leave a comment

The Reader has a broken leg and has to be ‘rescued’ from the top floor of her dorm building.

Pairing: Stanford!Sam x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: FLUFF, broken limbs (existing), annoying slow walkers

Word Count: ~600

Note: Happy Fluff Appreciation Day! This might get lost in all the other amazing stories coming out today, but I wanted to share this cute moment I couldn’t get out of my head. Please reblog, like, and comment if you enjoyed reading it! Thank you guys so much for reading my stuff! My tag lists are open as well as my requests. 

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You could smell the smoke before the anything else. Someone probably left something on the stove, or let their toaster catch fire. Either way, they didn’t open the window (or couldn’t if they left the dorm) and the smoke wafted into the hallway where it could set off the fire alarms for the whole building. Welcome to Stanford, one of the best colleges in the States and yet people aren’t intelligent enough to open a window!

With a sigh, you closed your textbook and grabbed your crutches. People were too stupid to wait till they weren’t going down the stairs to text too. A shoulder bump and down two flights later, your leg was broken and the jerk had the audacity to vanish into the crowd. You checked your pocket for your room key one last time and then walked out your door into the chaos.

If the building was going to burn down, most of the campus’s slow walkers would be missing the next class day. While that sounded okay to you, could they at least move so you could make it out of the building?

“Excuse me. Excuse me. Ow!” A passing student zoomed between you and the people next to you, kicking your crutch into your injured leg. “Seriously?”

“Need a hand? Or should I say a leg?”

You turned to make some snide comment, but it died on your tongue as you had to tilt your head back to look the voice in the face. The gorgeous face. And a gorgeous smile. And…

“Sorry, say that again.” You mentally kicked yourself for not paying attention.

“I could give you a lift if you’d like.”

“Oh, um… I’m go… ow!” Both of you glared at the back of another shoulder bumper.

“Come on. You’ve got a broken leg, the building’s on fire, and we live on the top floor. Let me help.”

“Okay.” Damn his puppy-dog eyes. “Thanks.” You handed him your crutches and eased your way onto his back when he crouched. Woah. It was a whole different world from up there.

“Excuse us!” He called. The river of students parted and he made his way easily to the stairs. Only one person got dinged in the head by the crutches, but you could have sworn it was that first person who bumped your crutch into your leg, so you didn’t feel guilty.

The two of you joined the first couple of floors on the ground outside the building. The buzz of students complaining about interrupted activities and other stresses sounded like a beehive around you. The guy almost had to shout for you to hear him.

“My name’s Sam by the way.”

“Y/N. Thanks for the lift.”

“No problem.”

Sam shuffled from foot to foot while you awkwardly balanced on your crutches.

“Hey, would you like…” “Do you want to…”

You both laughed.

“Ladies first.”

“Would you want to grab a coffee with me? It’s going to be a while before they call the all clear. And I’ve got nothing else to do this afternoon.”

“I would like that. And my afternoon is clear too.”

Sam took your crutches and crouched again. You maneuvered your way onto his back with a giggle that turned into a squeal of delight as he broke off into a run. You laid your head on his shoulder and encouraged him to run faster.

Who knew what a friendship started in the heat of the moment could lead to? You wanted to find out.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

Supernatural Tags: @ilostmyshoe-79 @jensenandjaredintheimpala @@jpadjackles @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r

Sam Winchester Tags: @badwolfy08 @parseltonguespeaking @ktchw @stealingyoupretty @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @gabbyrogers094 @myshitismine4221 @loveisjustfortheweak @thiickreigns @sabrinaoctaviagunner @mrsdeanwinchester16

Sweetie Pie

Aebli Leave a comment

Bucky reminisces about a favorite diner from before he was drafted. You want to bring a little bit of the past back to him.

Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes x reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Food Mention, angst, fluff, SMUT, dirty talk and language, teasing

Word Count: 2400

Note: This started out as a Dean Winchester fic, but morphed into a Bucky fic. Please let me know what you think of the fic with comments, likes, and reblogs! I really appreciate them and giggle like mad when I get notifications. Please enjoy!

“I’m telling you; they had the best blackberry pie in the state.” Bucky’s eyes were brighter than you had seen them in a while. You couldn’t help but focus on the way his eyes crinkled at the sides, and how he kept licking his bottom lip.

Oh, to be that bottom lip. Snap out of it, Y/N!

You shook yourself back into focus. “A good mom and pop’s like that, it might still be there. Have you tried looking for it yet?”

He thought for a moment. “You know, I hadn’t even thought to. I haven’t been on that side of town since waking up.”

“Let’s look around and find it for dinner. Even if we don’t find it, we might discover a new hole-in-the-wall and find you a new favorite dessert.”

That afternoon, you almost ended up running your car on fumes as Bucky tried to remember where the diner was.

“What was the name again?” you asked.

“Rachel’s, I think. Or was that the name of the waitress? Maybe it was Betty’s.”

“If it’s there, we’ll find it.” You checked your GPS while pulled up to the curve. It hurt to see him struggle so much to remember, like a tightness around your heart that took your breath away. The map showed a dinner two blocks up, but it didn’t match any of Bucky’s descriptions so far. “Was it possibly ‘Hamilton Diner’?”

“That’s it!”

He was bouncing in his seat until you pulled up. It was a streamlined diner with big windows, but the paint was faded and most of the windows were boarded up. As were most of the windows in the surrounding buildings.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. Do you still want to find someplace new? There was an interesting-looking pizza place back the way we came.”

“Sure,” he said softly. He was equally as un-talkative for the rest of the night. He barely ate three slices and the ride was silent back to the tower.

You couldn’t get the diner out of your head over the next few days. Bucky seemed to have pushed it from his mind, but knowing him, it probably kept reminding him how much time was stolen from him. ‘Hamilton Diner’ sounded familiar to you, more than through his stories. Older than you knew him. So, you made a call to your grandmother.

She ended up having the best news in the world.

The mixer whined loudly as it struggled to keep up with the concoction you were making. Flour covered your working space and you were sure it was in your hair, already having decimated your black yoga pants and one of Bucky’s shirts. The dough you were making on the counter was super sticky in a way that didn’t feel right, but you kept on; there was no time to fix the problem.

“What’s this?” Bucky leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen and chuckled at your appearance.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet.” With a sigh you turned off the mixer, but not before a blob spun out and landed on your nose. You ignored it for the time being and went back to working the dough. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I’ve seen you bake before, and it never gets old to see how messy you can make our kitchen.” He stepped between you and the mixer and took out the extension.

“Hey, don’t lick the…” Too late.

“It was either you or the beater, sweetheart.” His smile sent heat pooling to your stomach, but you pressed on with your story.

“I called my grandmother the other night, Grandma Rachel, and made a few connections. She worked at a diner in the area for a while, and found out last night that it was the Hamilton Diner.” The dough felt less sticky as you rolled it with a flour laden rolling pin. “She took some recipes with her when she left and I thought… maybe… just maybe, one of them would be the pie we were looking for yesterday.”

Bucky’s hands laid over yours as he came to stand behind you. “You’re baking me a pie? From Hamilton Diner?” Your breath hitched as his hands eased away to wrap around your waist. “Can I help?”

By the time the pie was in the oven the kitchen was a mess. A flour war may or may not have happened, and you were sure that you looked ghostly having lost. You couldn’t help running your tongue across your bottom lip as Bucky swayed side to side to the 40’s music station you found. He swept the stuck-on dough and other disaster piles off the counter, rubbing some places harder than others as needed making his arms bulge in delicious ways. You finished drying the mixing bowl and put it away, needing to stretch to your tiptoes to put it on the shelf. When you turned around, Bucky was there to kiss your forehead. He chuckled as he blew some flour from your hair.

“You still got somethin’ on ya…um,” he tapped his nose and with a start you remembered the blob of filling from earlier. You moved grab a washcloth, but Bucky beat you to the task by licking your nose.

“Hey!” you giggled as he continued to lick and kiss across your cheeks down to your mouth, ‘cleaning’ your face while using his washcloth to get anything else.

He hummed in delight. “You taste like blackberries.”

“No taste-testing till the pie’s ready. Come on, we’ve got some time.” You led him to the couch and curled against him as you grabbed your book. Bucky read over your shoulder, tapping your thumb on the page when he reached the bottom. Eventually, fell asleep and he stopped tapping. You marked the page with his bookmark and kept reading while you waited for the oven to alert you the pie was done. Bucky woke before then, inhaling deeply the scent of fruit and goldening crust as it filled the apartment.

You made it to the oven mitts first, laughing when Bucky dramatically opened the oven door for you.

“It looks perfect, Y/N,” Bucky said as you sat it on the counter.

“Hmm. But does it taste good? I’ve never made this recipe before.” You laid it on the cooling rack as Bucky turned off the oven.

“It tasted fine when I licked the filling off you earlier.” He grinned as you stuck your tongue out at him. “You know, the pie’s going to need a few minutes to cool down.” Bucky stepped closer, pinning you to the counter. He removed the mitts from your hands, kissing across your knuckles and leading you towards the bedroom.

“You don’t want to eat it while it’s hot?” You sat on his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“That’s what the invention of the microwave is for. I’ve waited this long, I can wait for a little bit more. But for you, I can never wait.” He crashed his lips into yours, the morning’s teasing replaced with passion and fire and a haste like he was starving for you. His hard length rolled against your clothed sex, making you gasp. Bucky continued to roll his hips until you were panting and his jeans were glistening in two places from both your arousals. Your stomach muscles contracted as he snarled in your ear and pulled you down harder into his lap.

“Buck-“

“You like riding me, sweetheart? Hungry for my cock yet?”

“Yes. Please, James.”

He pushed you off him to lay on your back with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. You watched over your stomach as he pulled his belt out of the loops in one tug and threw it across the room. His shirt that you had borrowed for the morning flew across the room as you threw it off you. His eyes greedily took in the sight of your bare breasts. He tapped his jeans button for a second deep in thought, watching you lick your lips, then reached down and tugged your pants and panties down your legs. He sank to his knees between your legs and pinned your hips to the bed.

“I think I’m going to taste you first.” He chuckled as you groaned with impatience. You were easy to silence with the distraction of feeling him run a metal finger up through your slick and then watching him suck it into his mouth. He hummed and closed his eyes; when they opened his pupils nearly eclipsed his irises. Bucky growled and shoved his face into your heat. He lapped and sucked, his metal finger playing inside of you the whole time. His flesh arm stayed stretched across your hips preventing you from bucking and writing away from him. He leaned back and smiled, watching your face contort in pleasure and your eyes plead.

“Please, James, don’t stop.”

“I have no intention of stopping.” He leaned forward and hummed into your sex, “I’m not leaving this spot until you scream and gush for me.” Bucky buried two fingers into you and chuckled. You made eye contact with him one more time before you arched. His fingers began vibrating and curling, then circling around the inside of your lips so he could stimulate every bit of your walls. He sucked down on your clit, making you cry out. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open as the vibrating pushed you over the ravine of pleasure. Bucky loudly slurped up your release. He rubbed the tops of your trembling thighs until they stopped shivering. You heard his clothes drop to the floor and then felt the bed dip as he crawled up your body to suck on your neck.

“You taste so wonderful, Y/N.” His head dipped to place open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. He chuckled against your skin as you reached down and stroked his cock, twirling your thumb over the tip. Bucky grabbed both your wrists and pinned them over your head with one hand. “Naughty.”

“Always,” you smirked. You whined when Bucky sucked your nipples and blew cold air across them. He was so good at making you writhe under him that you didn’t notice him lining himself up with your entrance until he was sinking in an inch at a time. You lost the ability to breathe until he bottomed out. His chest inflated against yours as he also struggled to find oxygen and his head fell into the sheets over your shoulder. You grinned down at him and flexed your walls around his length, making him curse in Russian. A second later his eyes bored into yours.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little girl.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head as you rolled your hips to move yourself up and down his length. He grunted and flexed his arms to keep from moving in time with you, denying you pleasure. But at the same time, denying it to himself. You knew what to do to spur him on.

“Please James, fuck me like only you can. I want to feel your cock fill me up, want to be sore in the morning. You feel so good. So thick and perfect. Please, James. James!”

He finally met your thrust. If he didn’t have such a strong grip on your wrists and then your waist, you would have slid up the bed with how hard he was pounding into you. You were going to be sore this afternoon, much more in the morning.

The air was thick with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and with the scent of both of your sweats and arousals. Bucky’s skin gleamed above you, as much as you could see through your fluttering eyelashes. Your screams of pleasure were sinking into small cries increasingly higher in pitch with each thrust. Bucky released your wrists so you could wrap them around his shoulders. He wrapped his arms behind the small of your back and pulled you deeper into him. His abs rubbed against your stomach and his V against your clit. You careened over the edge with a silent whimper. Bucky gave and animalistic groan as your orgasming walls gripped his cock and pulled him into release with you. Your hips bucked wildly as his cum coated your walls.

Bucky fell slightly to one side so as not to crush you beneath him. A few breaths later he rolled onto his back and pulled you to lay on his heaving chest. Your fingers lightly traced between his muscles as your eyes drooped. You would have fallen asleep if Bucky hadn’t rumbled beneath you.

“We still have pie.”

You laughed. “One track mind.” You struggled to stand at the edge of the bed on wobbly legs. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly as he handed you one of his shirts, a button-up with the buttons missing and long enough to cover the back of your thighs.

In the kitchen, he kissed the top of your head while you cut two slices. You tugged the plate away from his hand at the last second and asked, “You don’t want to take it to the tower to share with the team?”

Bucky shot you a glare that would have sent the toughest Hydra agent screaming in fear. You giggled and handed him his plate in exchange for a fork. The pie was perfectly warm and it melted in your mouth with each bite. You finished your smaller slice first and leaned against the counter to look at Bucky.

“Since when can your fingers vibrate?”

“I challenged Tony to an upgrade,” he said between bites, “convinced him I didn’t think he could do it. He didn’t ask why; just completed the challenge in two hours and danced around his workshop like he’d won the Nobel prize.”

“Hate to break it to him, but you’re the genius.” You leaned forward to kiss him, but wrapped your lips around his fork instead, stealing his next bite of pie.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

“Or what?” You dragged your finger around your plate and licked off the escaped filling.

Bucky grinned back softly until his eyes darkened promisingly and he cupped your sex. His thumb vibrated against your still-sensitive clit. “Or I’ll finish what I started.”

At the next available chance, you stole another bite off his fork.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

Marvel Tags: @anotherfashionandbeautyblog @solsticestorm @supermarvelous

Bucky Tags: @ackles-got-snackles @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive @angstybuckybarnes @animeroses318  @aprilia91806111 @aprilovesyoutube @becauseimmaya @bucky-sempai @cassiopeia-evanstan @cheeky-5sos @claragtke @creatures4lyfe22 @curliesthood @derpypasta8811 @ditchesandbitches @dobby-is-a-fr33-elf @dozydaisy @fab-notfat @fechicka @gijibe @gofollowmrsmelaninhood @hail0ser @happily-beinghappy @hey-garrett-shut-up @iamwarrenspeace @imagines-for-shawn @infinity1321 @iwishyouwould @jimenezdenise @julynineteenninetyseven @just-another-dying-winchester @karipaleta @kittyisabellaloves @kotafrost @laurenmvs @matteblackvevo @mb2thompson @midnightsinger @millie67 @millie-saurus-rex @miss—mouse @mondaysmakemesad @mrgrytyrll @nerd-geek-reject @never-give-in-97 @otome-tomyheart @peculiar-child-x @petlaufeyson @plainphotographer @re2d2 @redstarstan @seamaiden @sebastianstancanfightme @s-e-rendipitous @sexyashmike @softwintersoldier @spacegaystrashcompactor @superwholocked221 @sweetnocturnaldreams @taliacorona @temprence-the-real-satan @thelittleinkedsoul @the-one-and-only-vampcake @the-original-emo-sister @unidentifiedanonfics @vdeylyn @vulcandragonfly @woolly-hat @xxsweet-little-666xx @youre-my-new-best-friend @yurikoxchan @zhelaniye-soldat 

Midnight Run

Aebli Leave a comment

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings/Promises: implied semi-public (rooftop) smut, language

Word Count: ~720

Note: Just a short work. I haven’t written Jason in a while and wanted to work with him a bit more. Please let me know what you think by leaving a comment, or liking or reblogging. My tag lists and requests are open, and please check out my masterlist (link after the fic.) Enjoy!

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You were being chased.

You couldn’t see your pursuer any more than the occasional flash of red. You tried not to look back. Every time you did, it increased your paranoia. You ran faster, watching every dark corner for him to appear.

This meant you weren’t watching your feet.

As you tripped over the wire you thought about your training. You knew better than this.

“You’re getting sloppy, Y/N.” Red Hood hovered over you, pinning you to the rooftop, “I even used the shiny wire.”

“I know. I thought about in on the way down.” You avoided his gaze. Even with the mask, you could feel him smirking at you. “Now are you going to let me up, or are just going to stay here all night?”

“Well,” he shook his head, “I’m waiting for you to make me move. If you can.”

Half a second later you had him flipped on his back. Then he had you up against an air unit. You should have groaned in pain; instead you whimpered.

Jason ripped off his helmet and held you up. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

“I’m fine. Really.” You were pretty sure you were blushing. Hopefully it was too dark for him to see.

“Are you sure? You look flushed.”

Damn.

You pushed away his hand as he felt your forehead. “It’s not that kind of flush, Jason.” He tilted your face to look at him as his pupils swelled. Jason lightly pushed a curl across your face, leaning forward till your noses were almost touching. Your ribs felt like they were being broken from the inside, your heart was pumping so fast.

No. You couldn’t let yourself do this.

You punched him in the ribs while hooking your ankle behind his before jerking it forward. He fell with a slight thud. You ran. You leapt over buildings, not sure if he was even following you. Then you heard him curse as he tripped over one of his own trap wires. Now you could easily pick up the sound of his running, spurring you forward.

The trap rooftop you’d set up the night before was coming up, but you never made it. Jason blindsided you and pinned you down. He held your arms above your head and kept you from flipping him by trapping your legs under his. He left his mask behind, his hair wild between the wind and the helmet-hair. A few tendrils covered his eyes, which kept flicking between your eyes and lips.

“Where did you think you were going?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“You think you’re the only one to set up trip wires? Let me up and I’ll show you.”

“Nope. Not till you tell me what happened back there.”

You looked away. “I don’t want us to start anything. Love makes teammates sloppy; one of us could get hurt.”

“Love? You love me?” His voice was hushed. You considered it to be shock in a negative way.

“Yes. Now it’s out there. We can move on, forget about it, anything. Now can we go hunt some bad-guys?”

For a second nothing happened. Then you felt Jason’s grip loosen. He released your arms, but kept you caged beneath him. You were still refusing to look at him when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Startled, you turned to look at him, and found your lips pressed into his. He deepened the kiss, pressing into your lips harder until you opened up for him. His hips rolled into yours, pressing something thick and hot into the apex of your thighs.

When he broke off for air, you reached down to palm his hard-on.

“Is this what made you trip earlier?” you asked with a giggle.

“Yes. And every time since we started working together. I can’t help but notice the way your body moves when your round-housing some jerk in the face.”

You pulled his face back to yours. “That’s probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Give me a while, sweetheart, and let me show you more.”

You didn’t care that you were on a rooftop where anybody could see you. You forgot everything when he showed you the details for why he’d fallen so many times. So many details.

Masterlist 

Forever List: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

DC List:

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Such a Tease

Aebli Leave a comment

Mutual teasing in public leads to an evening of continuing the teasing in private.

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader (Y/N), appearances by other WWE members

Warnings: alcohol consumption, SMUT, teasing (public and private), oral (both receiving)

Word Count: 1815

Note: I had half an idea… then Extreme Rules happened and people gif-ed the heck out the perfect moment. It’s my first Roman Reigns fic, so please let me know how what you thought of it with comments, reblogs, and likes. If you like my style, my requests are open, as well as my tag lists. 

image

The group of people around the bar’s corner table erupted into laugher.

“Are you serious?” You asked.

“Yeah, we try each other’s moves all the time. It was just that one sparring session that went a little…” Dean whistled and circled a finger next to his head.

Jimmy gave him a gentle shove. “I wasn’t that bad. Anybody can superman-punch if you jump high enough.”

Naomi giggled. “Babe, I know you tried, but it was a little funny.” She giggled again when he frowned at her. It turned into a smile after she kissed his temple. He pulled her face up into a more serious kiss.

Dean poked Jimmy in the shoulder. “Oy, I thought we said no PDA. Nobody’s that drunk yet.”

“No, you said that.” Roman laughed at Dean’s sour face. “And I think it’s because your girl had to ditch you for the night.”

“Well,” you said with a grin, “someone has to work for a living around here, and it’s certainly not you boys.” You gave Naomi a high-five as the guys argued back. Even though she was on Smackdown and you were on Raw, being married to equally hot Samoans had its perks in the supportive women area.

“We work.” Dean crossed his arms, then grinned as a gleam lit his eyes. “Feisty Irish Finn is a job to take down, no matter what day of the week. Just ask Ro.” The group members groaned and begged him not to tell another embarrassing sparring story. But he was already off and it would be impossible to stop him. You considered paying the bartender to slip some tougher stuff into his drinks to knock him out faster.

Then you felt Roman’s hand slide up your thigh, warm and heavy. 

The amber bottle was cold and wet against your fingers as you lifted it for a drink. You let Roman slide his hand closer into the space between your legs, opening them wider. He began to rub over your zipper, pressing and moving till your heart was thundering in your ears.

When it became too much, you took a deep breath and set your face as if listening to Dean’s story.

Under the table, you laid your hand over Roman’s. He stopped moving, tossing you a smug side glance. You began to massage his middle finger. You swirled your thumb over the tip. Pressed gently on the knuckles. You grinned as Roman’s breathing became shallow. You lifted his hand off your heat and returned it to his own thigh. There may or may not have been a pause as you brushed against the bulge in his lap.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Naomi broke through the haze settling in your head. “You look a little flush.”

“I’m fine,” you chuckled, “I never could drink more than one beer.” You finished the bottle with one more swallow then pushed back from the table. “So I’m going to call it a night. Could you call me a cab, Ro?”

“I’ll do you one better than that. I was your ride after all.”

“No, stay. You need a break with your family.”

“They can get drunk well enough without me. See you guys later.” He waved off your further feigned apologies and led you to the car.

You were halfway home before he said anything.

“So. What was with the teasing back there? Were you trying to start something, little girl?”

“Um, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who reached into my lap first. Were you trying to start something, Big Dog?”

He snorted. “Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t.” Roman’s voice dropped an octave, “maybe, I was trying to make you cum in front of everybody.”

You gulped in a shallow lung-full of air. “What about Dean’s ‘No PDA’ rule? Shouldn’t that include teasing?”

Roman took your hand and placed it on his thigh. “I believe I made it clear I didn’t agree with that rule.” Your skin prickled with cold as he removed his hand to place it back on the wheel.

He wanted teasing? Fine. Then you would give him teasing.

You took your hand back and pulled down the zipper of your jeans. With a sigh, you shoved them down your legs. Roman growled and shifted in his seat, but you kept working on yourself. The simple cotton panties were already soaked through. You dipped your fingers under the band and slid one in between your lips. A moan escaped you as the slick helped fuel the arousal growing between your legs. You continued stroking yourself as Roman pressed harder on the gas pedal.

The car squealed into the garage. The door wasn’t even all the way down before he snatched your hand out of your panties and held it in front of his face. He watched as your slick ran down your fingers into your palm. His eyes darted to yours then smiled. You clenched your thighs together at the warning face of the man who loved to eat you alive. Roman stroked your wrist with his thumb, then flattened his tongue against your palm to lap up your juices. Usually, that wasn’t your thing, but damn his tongue was so big. A few moments later he dragged you from the car and hoisted you over his shoulder.

Your feet didn’t touch the ground again till he slammed the door shut to the master bedroom and pinned you against it. He nipped his way across your collarbone all the while kneading your ass. Then your clothes began to disappear. First, he slid his hands up the curve of your ass and under your shirt till it flew across the room. He pushed the fabric of your panties over your hips so they could fall to the floor. Then, while you worked on unhooking his belt, he toyed with the clasp on your bra.

“Roman, please,” you gasped between kisses and pushing your chest forward. He finally popped it and slid the straps down your arms. You pushed both his jeans and his boxers down his legs; the sight of him made you lick your lips. Again, he hoisted you into the air but carried you bridal style. He dropped your legs before sitting on the bed and laying back, alone. Roman wiggled his hips till you took the hint.

You leaned over to run your hands up his thick thighs. Focus. You’d have to ride those another night. His length gave a jolt as you ran your tongue from his balls to the tip. His hips may have jumped too, but you were too focused on swirling your mouth around the tip to remember. Relaxing your throat, you began to bob your head up and down, taking him deeper into your mouth with each pass. Finally, you reached the point where he bumped the back of your throat. Roman let out a guttural cry and buried his fingers in your hair. He guided you up and down his length as you hungrily licked the underside on your way. He began shuddering when you used your hand to stroke the inside of his thigh.

“Y/N… you gotta back off… or I’m not gon… gonna last long.” You watched as he fell back from watching you. His eyes rolled under his fluttering eyelids. You took mercy on him, but just barely. You sucked hard on your way off his shaft. There was a satisfying pop, and then you crawled up to lay next to him. You rested your hand on his chest as it rose and fell with his gasps for air. Once he caught his breath, Roman wove his fingers with yours.

You squealed as he pushed you further up the bed into the pillows. He caged your body beneath his; a cage of pure muscle and tattoo. The memory of how you had gotten into this position bubbled up, making you giggle. You took the chance in Roman’s confused face to grip his length in your hand and twist it like you twisted his finger back at the bar.

“My turn,” he growled.

Anything leading up to this point suggested that Roman would have teased his cock at your entrance for a few moments, maybe thrust slowly a few times, and then pounded you into the mattress. Instead, you found yourself flipped over to sit on his stomach with his cock caught between your pussy and his chest. Your hips were trapped in his large warm hands; you were not going to be allowed to control the pace. He grinned at you, then began to slide you back and forth across his length, slicking it with your arousal. No matter how much you moaned and pleaded, Roman kept the pace steady till you were a quivering mess and droopingly supporting yourself on his shoulders.

He pushed you back towards his legs one more time, then helped you to your knees so he could guide his cock into you. You wanted to sink in one go, to feel the perfect burn of his girth, but he squeezed bruises into your skin as he controlled how quickly you sank onto him. Once he was balls deep, Roman held you tight, keeping you from raising back up. Everything felt more intense as your walls fluttered around him.

“Move, Roman, please,” you begged.

“Uh-uh. I thought you might want to sit here for a minute. Just feel me inside you, filling you up. You feel so good… so perfect like this, baby. So… gah.” He shuddered underneath you as you clamped around him. “Naughty,” he warned.

“Please, Ro, I won’t tease you again.” You brushed your hair out of your eyes to see his bemused expression. “Unless you want me to.”

“Maybe later. Now let’s get you filled up with something else, hmm?”

You screamed as he pulled you almost completely off him before impaling you once again. Over and over again he thrust and pulled you down onto him hard. Jumbled expletives mixed with his name fell from your lips as he brought you quickly to the edge of orgasm.

“You gonna come so quickly, baby? So good for me. Come on, cum for me.” Roman reached over and rubbed his thumb in narrow circles over your clit. You tumbled onto his chest as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. His guttural moan sounded far away as his cum filled you after one last faltering thrust.

He rubbed your back till the waves stopped hitting you so hard and started simmering down to pleasurable swells. He pulled you off and left you sprawled across the sheets. You heard the water running in the bathroom, then he came back with a warm towel and a glass of water. He helped you sit up after cleaning you off, taking the glass when it was empty. Once you had snuggled under the sheets, he curled you into his chest. You were both out like a light within a few content breaths.

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The Pain of Return

Aebli Leave a comment

There’s a case in your hometown, but when you arrive nothing looks the same.

Pairing: None

Warnings: Angst, sense of lost time, childhood stolen angst, plot without point, fluffy ending (oops)

Word Count: 1965

Note: I wrote this around my visit to my former hometown this weekend, but I’ve tried to leave it vague and open for other towns. Happy (or un-happy) SPN Angst Day!

image

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and stretched. Sam and Dean were in the front of Baby talking low about the case.

The case. The one in your childhood hometown.

You shot up, looking out the windows for anything familiar.

“We’re still a few miles from the state line,” Dean piped up. “You haven’t missed it.

“Ah, but have we passed the peach butt yet?” You giggled as the both looked back at you; Dean through the mirror and Sam turning sharply in his seat. “I guess not.”

“The what?” Sam asked.

“The Peach Butt. I think it’s a water tower, or used to be, but its painted like a giant peach. Even has a leaf and the little nob at the bottom. The area is known for their fruit. And fireworks. But mostly the giant peach. It’ll mean I’m almost home.”

The peach crested over the hill a little while later. Both of the boys were amused at the water tower and you taking pictures with your phone. Almost fifteen years had passed since you last saw it, when your family moved south, and it still looked just as freshly painted and bright as ever. Then the highway dipped, and the peach disappeared from sight. Within another twenty minutes, the exits for your childhood county zoomed into view.

But as Dean pulled up the ramp, everything went wrong.

There was the Waffle House, and the hotel, and the Cracker Barrel. Gone was the family-run Italian restaurant that had the best cannoli’s in the world and the little pet shop where you got your first fish. There were over twenty new business squeezed into a strip mall over what used to be the park.

“Where do I turn?” Dean asked, breaking through the rising panic in your chest.

“There should be a ‘Scott Road’ on your left. That will take you through a small town before we get to ‘Hickory Grove Road’ and the straight shot to the case.”

Sam pointed the sign out to Dean. Memories stuttered in your mind as the trees that used to grow there were replaced by a budding neighborhood, many still under construction. After a few minutes, Dean slowed Baby to a stop. The road came to a dead end with a bright orange construction sign. You stayed silent as Sam typed the address into his GPS and shared it with Dean as he turned Baby around.

Your heart throbbed in your chest. Heavy, chest-rattling thumps that felt like they were pushing molasses through your veins. Air shuddered out of your lungs in short bursts and long silent sighs. Sam kept glancing back at you. Instead of looking back at him, you watched the town roll by your window different in almost every way. Just when you thought you were completely lost, a landmark would roll by and you knew where you were.

When had everything changed?

The landmarks became more frequent as Dean drove further out of the town and into the country. Out there, you saw more boarded up windows and crumbling buildings than replacements. Then things got really familiar.

“Dean, stop the car.”

“What?”

“Stop the car. Let me drive.”

You slid into the front seat next to him at the next red light. It was cramped with all three of you shoulder to shoulder but you weren’t focused on that at the moment.

At the salon go straight. Pass the soccer field. Pass the rusted sculptures. Follow the curve to the church. Turn left on the gravel road.

“Where is it?” you mumbled under your breath. Baby jumped and tilted over the gravel. Dean growled as pebbles bounced off the doors. With a curse, you made a sudden U-turn in some random driveway that wasn’t there before. “Where is it!” you shouted, slapping your hand against the wheel.

“Where’s what?” Sam looked at his phone and the road. “There’s nothing back here.”

“That’s the problem,” you muttered. Dean cursed as you slammed on the breaks. Then you were off like a shot.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dean moved Baby to one side of the road, then followed you with Sam to the open field. When they caught up you were sitting in a tree looking over the expanse of green. “What are you doing? What were you looking for?” Dean demanded.

“My house.” Your voice was soft but hoarse. “It was right here. I used to climb this tree all the time. Nearly broke my arm dozens of times.” You shifted against the bark. The swell in the limbs where you now sat was smaller than you remembered. The whole thing felt lower to the ground. “Why is my tree here but not my house?” The question hung in the air unanswered.

Sam checked his watch and nudged Dean, who nodded back.

“Y/N, we have to get to the crime scene. We’ll come back. I promise.”

You nodded. But you didn’t move. Not until the green of the field was replaced with the green of Dean’s eyes. You never thought how similar they would be.

“Sweetheart, we have to go.” He took you hand and gently tugged on it till you hoped off the tree.

You were silent as Dean pulled up to another new neighborhood. The show house was surrounded in police tape still, and a news crew stood out front.

“I thought everything happened… three days ago?” Sam asked.

“I did too.” Dean straightened his tie and led the march over. He was the first to duck under the tape after you all showed your fake badges. Sam broke off to find the commanding officer, and Dean wandered over to listen to the news crew. That left you standing alone. You usually went to check out the scene first, but your feet wouldn’t move.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind you. “Y/N Y/L/N?” You turned around and saw an aged version of a familiar face.

“Mz. Cindi?” You couldn’t help but let a smile break out over your face. She used to baby-sit you when your parents wanted a night out. You ducked back under the tape to give her a hug.

“Oh sweetie, it’s so good to see you! Let me look at you.” She held you at arm length but still had to tilt up her head to look at you. You were taller than her in sixth grade. “A FBI agent. I’m so proud of you. Obviously, this terrible business brings you to town, but I’m sure you’ve heard enough of that already. How’s the family?”

“Oh, uh. My parents are…” Murdered. “…they died.” Vampires. “Car accident. I was away at college.” I was home. The vamps kidnapped me and bled me for days. “Other than that, I’ve been all right.”

“My poor child.” She wrapped her short arms around your waist, then jumped back with a start. “Oh goodness. Did you drive by…”

“My house, or lack of? Yeah. What happened?”

“The family living there didn’t keep it as well as your parents. It became mold infested; poisoned the people living there. The mailman saw their bodies through the window. Just terrible. It had to come down, so the city had the volunteer fire department burn it down for practice. That was seven years ago. But most of the trees are still there.”

Seven years. Odd.

“Now this house was infested with hornets. The town seems intent on dying before the corporations can get out here. Oh, who’s your tall drink of water?”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Dean walking over. “Dean? He’s my partner. Well, one of them. The other one is talking to the chief.”

“Ah,” she whispered knowingly, “but which one is yours?” You rolled your eyes as she giggled.

“Dean, this is Mz. Cindi. She used to watch after me.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Hate to steal Y/N away from you, but we need her inside.” He walked away after you nodded.

Mz. Cindi gave your hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about the change dear. It’s the way of the world. And there’s always a little pain when you go back home and it doesn’t look the same as before. But after you and your boys solve this, don’t wait another fifteen years to show up. There are still good people around, and we miss you. You’ll have to tell us about the world some time since you’re one of the few that made it out.”

“I’ll do that. Is your number the same?”

“Hasn’t changed in over thirty years. I’ll talk to you later, sweetie.” She gave you one last hug, then let you walk back to the house.

Dean started filling you in on the case. The surviving son came back and got hit by a second wave of hornets. But his voice sounded far away.

Change is the way of the world.

“Y/N!” Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

You passed on the information about your old house after Sam joined you two inside. The timing was too perfect a number. Sam did research, and Dean cleaned his guns. You walked out to the train tracks and reminded walking the rails with your friends after school. And wondered whether any of them had moved out too. There was still a lump in your throat when Dean called you with the plan. You swallowed it and got to work. Bones to salt and burn. Ghost of the town legend to put to rest. It should have felt good, saving everyone. It should have felt like the world started turning again.

Instead, it felt like it was heavier on your shoulders.

No other families would be hurt. No more children would wake up one morning and find their family dead. Not like you had. But it didn’t feel like enough. All the lives you saved couldn’t get back the memories corrupted by the last few days. They couldn’t fix how lost you felt in a town that you used to know so well. You were almost welcomed leaving at this point.

“Do you want to get out and take pictures?” Dean broke through your brooding. He hissed as gravel bounced of the car again as he pulled to a stop in front of the field.

“Not really. Let’s just go home.” You turned your head to face inside the car.

Sam cleared his throat. “Y/N, hate to be that guy, but you know you’ll regret it. Come on.” His door creaked and his shoes made the gravel crunch. Your side of the car was shadowed before he opened your door. “Come on. I’ll take the pictures if you won’t.”

You snorted with a grin. “No, you’ll take them wrong.” Sam stepped out of the way and you stepped out. You took a deep breath before taking that last step between gravel and grass. If you’d left the shutter sound on, your phone would have driven Dean crazy. The dozens of pictures were silent instead.

Sam’s hand enveloped yours. “Go sit where you were yesterday.” He crouched a little and took your picture as you sat in your spot. “Dean, go away!” he grumbled. Dean shot back a determined “no” and placed his warm hands on your shoulders before tickling your neck. He laughed openly as you squealed.

“Come over here, moose-man. And bring your selfie-stick arms.” You giggled as Sam shot you a disgruntled look, but he posed and smiled all the same.

“I bet I can race you to the top of this tree,” Dean said several pictures later.

“Honey, you couldn’t make it half-way.” You gave him a shove that sent him sprawling into the grass, then climbed as fast as you could before Dean could catch up to you.

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Hey Bartender

Aebli Leave a comment

Sometimes a hero doesn’t have to dodge bullets or round up a gang of thugs. Sometimes a hero is just a good listener.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Drinking (alcohol, with minimal control)

Word Count: 800+

Note: I had the Lady Antebellum song stuck in my head, and this came out. It kinda inspired the fic, but it does not make an appearance. Please enjoy and let me know how you like it by commenting, liking, and/or reblogging. My requests and tag lists are open! 

Alcohol gif below the cut:

The shot glass clattered and rolled until you were able to catch it and flip it over. Your vision wasn’t blurry yet, but there were still two to go.

A loud voice cut through the din of the crowded bar. “If you weren’t alone, I’d say you were having a party.” A man that you had never seen before in your life sat on the stool next to you. Tall blonde, with a smile too big for his small face. Asshole. “What are we celebrating?”

“Nothing,” you said, shooting back the second glass. “I’m not interested, I’m not going home with you, and you’re not going home with me. Douchebags who hit on women who obviously want to be alone are not my type. So back off.” You swallowed the third glass with a shudder as the man left. He muttered a list of profane nicknames for you till he was distracted by a bachelorette party. You flipped the glasses back over for a refill and waved down the bar. “Hey, bartender. Another trio, please.”

He hesitated with a worried look. “Do you want to try a stiffer drink? Something you can take slow?”

“I don’t want slow. Slow is not the way of the world, so I’ve finally learned. Thanks anyway.”

“There’s a story there. Why don’t you tell me?” He looked about as tired as you felt. It seemed he had his own restless night. Often, by the darkness of the shadows under his eyes.

“Why should I tell you? You probably hear a hundred sob stories a shift.”

He chuckled. “I do. But that doesn’t make them any less real or painful to the storyteller. How about we make a deal? I get off in ten. You tell me your story, and I ask my replacement to whip you up the drink you need to lay you out quick. Sound good?” When you hesitated, he added the perfect stipulation to push the deal over. “And the drink will be on the house.”

“Sure. See you in ten.”

He nodded and turned to walk away, but came back in a second. “My name’s Richard by the way. But my friends call me Dick.”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you.”

You watched him work for this next ten minutes like he was a Nascar race. He moved quickly enough for it. He flirted his way up and down the bar with whomever he liked, and quickly served those he didn’t. If someone was being annoying about getting another round, he ignored them. One guy figured it out and waited patiently till Dick got to him. Other drunken deadbeats had to wait until his replacement showed up.

“Let’s sit in the corner booth,” he said after collecting his tips. “It’s quieter and we won’t be disturbed.” He grabbed a pitcher of water and two glasses, then led the way. He sat close enough to hear you, but far enough away to not intrude on your space.

“What about my drink?”

“You need to hydrate first,” he said, pouring you a glass. “Besides, I won’t know what you need till I hear your story.”

He was a good listener. He nodded and hummed in all the right places. His brow would furrow when he was supposed to be angry, and he would mirror your profanities. Other than that, he didn’t say a word as you poured out your life’s story. Maybe it was the booze or the late hour, but you told him things you never dared to say out loud. Even to yourself. Every dream shattered, every crack in your heart, every tearful fear for the future.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until he reached up and smoothed a tear away with his thumb. Next thing you knew, you were running your fingers over his lips, wondering what they would taste like. With a snap, you pulled them back.

“I’m sorry. The shots finally kicked in.”

“It’s alright, Y/N. Do you mind if I call you a cab?”

When it pulled up to the curb, Dick held the door open and waited for you to get in. The alcohol swirling in your blood gave you another kick of courage.

“Do you want to come with?”

Dick blushed. “Not this time. The next time you come in ready to drink away a rough time, we can skip the booze. Right now you need to sleep.”

“Thanks, Dick.” You moved to sit down, bur popped back up. “Hey, I didn’t get that special drink.”

“I’ll hold it on your tab as the Grayson special. I’ll make myself the next time you come in. Bad day or not. I promise.”

That man is a hero. And gorgeous to boot. As the cab pulled away, you saw him continue to watch the cab until it rounded a corner. Yeah. You would be back. After a bartender prescribed sleep.

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