Tag y/n

Loyalties

Aebli Leave a comment

Prompt: “I wanted like….another wrestlers manager costing him a title kinda like Zelina does for Andrade? and Angry sex with maybe some choking.” – @crossfit-princess-sethie-boo

Pairing: Samoa Joe x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, angry Joe, SMUT, choking, orgasm denial, orgasm bribing, implied further smut

Word Count: 1430

Note: I’ve never written Samoa Joe before, so please take pity. I hope this is what you wanted sweetie, and I hope you all like it. Comments and/or gif reactions are greatly appreciated. Tag lists and requests are open as always. Now please enjoy!

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You had met in NXT. It was a dance: bumping into each other backstage, distracting each other’s promo’s, sitting silently across from one another in catering. Nobody seemed to notice. And Joe was patient. It was months of setting your skin ablaze with just looks before he cornered you in that dark hallway for the first time. The dance changed from flirting to secrecy. When you got left behind with his call-up, you thought it was over.

It wasn’t. Far from it.

The scheduling was difficult, but you made it work. You took turns showing up at each other’s shows, even if a few months apart. There was sex, yes, but you also helped each other. Joe was the one to suggest two months ago that you should try your hand at valeting.

Little did he know it would lead to his downfall.

He was in the middle of the ring, threatening anybody who thought they were ‘man enough’ to fight him for the opportunity to challenge Jeff Hardy for the US Championship. He froze as Sanity’s music began to play. The crowd went wild as Killian stepped out. You hovered close behind, effectively hiding from Joe. Once Killian had his attention, he moved to one side so you could step forward dressed in a business suit jacket and skirt. For a split second his face lit up, then he played it off as mock surprise. Joe tossed his mic away and called for a ref. The bell rang as soon as your ‘client’, one of three, entered the ring.

Both large men kept the other on his toes. Joe wasn’t used to being thrown around like Killian was capable of. Killian was not used to the quiet rage that Joe was capable of. It was beyond Roman or Aleister’s skills. For all of the mutual frustration, you could read admiration on their faces. But you could not stand back and enjoy the match as you wanted. You had a job to do.

Killian argued with the ref over the near five-count of strikes. Joe was recovering on the apron. You grabbed his ankle and attempted to sweep his legs out from under him.

Joe did not budge.

In the background, you heard Corey make some remark about your relationship in NXT, but all you could think about was the fire in Joe’s eyes. You were in trouble and a lot of it. Thankfully, Killian finished with the ref and pulled Joe back into the ring. But for the rest of the match, Joe kept an intense gaze on you. When he lost the match due to another one of your distractions, hot rage flashed in his eyes.

Killian saw the wrath burning in your direction. He stood in front of you the whole way up the ramp to backstage. When he offered to walk you to your dressing room, you declined and said you could handle Joe yourself. You didn’t actually feel that way, but it was the only way you could be alone to see him.

You don’t know how he did it, but Joe was waiting for you in your dressing room. He was leaned against the desk in the room with his arms crossed. His face was impassible, even for you, and he said nothing while you flustered through half-formed sentences that died once they hit the air. You shed your jacket. He nodded towards the door. You locked it. Though it was probably unwise, you kept your back towards him.

“Welcome to Smackdown, Y/N.” His voice made you shiver.

Turning, you flattened your back against the door. “Thank you.” You swallowed dry air. “How much trouble am I in?”

Joe let out a long, slow breath. “I have to say, this is not what I had in mind when I suggested being a manager.” He stood and took a few meandering strides towards you. “And definitely not with Sanity. What about Nikki Cross?”

“We have an understanding. And why are you so angry? It was your idea.” You gasped and smiled as Joe wrapped his hand around your throat.

“I meant me when they finally moved you up.”

“You?” You searched his face for the truth. “Since when do you need me?”

Joe loosened his grip. “I always need you.” He looked at you like it should have been obvious.

You wet your lips. “Then why didn’t you say that? Then we wouldn’t have been in this mess.” It became harder to breathe as Joe’s grin widened and his grip tightened.

“Speaking of… I believe I owe you something for your… help tonight.” He released your throat, chuckling at your gasp for air, and switching his grasp to your wrists. He stole your oxygen next by kissing you hard and ravenously. You moaned into his mouth every time he rolled his hips into yours. “That’s it, Y/N,” he whispered, “make it up to me.”

With one hand he controlled both of your wrists, with the other he reached up under your skirt. You bucked down into his touch, spreading the juices already leaking through your bottoms onto his fingers. He tugged them to one side. You grit your teeth and hissed as he used two fingers to pull your essence up to your clit. Joe tightened his grip on your wrists as you thrashed under his touch. He spread your slick to your clit, thumbing it harshly enough to make you cry out. Joe nosed your head to one side so he could nip at your neck while his fingers worked torturous magic bringing you to the brink. Your breathing shallowed and you closed your eyes, ready for release.

Joe withdrew with a chuckle that made you whine. “What, did you think I would let you come so quickly, baby girl? You should know better.”

“Please, Joe. I’m sorry. I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again, but I’ll-“

“Oh no. I have a different deal in mind.” He pulled you away from the door. He helped you out of your clothes and had you lay on the desk. You did your best to keep your legs open, though each drag of his fingertips across your skin made you want to close them with a shiver. Joe trailed his fingers closer to your sex. His chest heaved with resisting taking you immediately. “If I could make another suggestion,” he bypassed your heat and splayed his large, warm hand over your lower stomach, “perhaps you should shift your loyalties.” His hand continued traveling up to your breasts. You gasped as he dug his fingernails into the valley between them. “Take your time. I’ve got all the time in the world to work an answer out of you, baby girl.”

Frantically you licked your lips. “There’re other people to convince than me.” You squeaked as he tweaked your nipple. “I’ll consider it?”

“Close enough. For now.” He moved his ring gear and other obtrusive fabric out of the way just enough to bring his ready length into your line of sight. It made your mouth water, but you knew that would have to come later.

Joe was seconds away from running out of patience.

With those last seconds, he eased into you with a series of deep breaths. He braced himself on the desk on either side of your hips while you adjusted to him. You gave him a small thrust.

Patience ran out.

You screamed as he pulled nearly all of the way out before thrusting fast and hard in again. Again. Again. Again. Your vision failed, and your eyes closed. Your mouth fell open to freely give Joe all of the sounds that spurred him on. And on. And on. The denied orgasm from before came rushing to the surface. Joe growled as your walls clamped tighter and tighter. You were both right there. You opened your eyes as Joe rubbed your thigh.

“You keep screaming like that baby girl, and I won’t be able to hold back… much longer.”

“Then don’t. Joe, I’m almost… please.”

Joe reached up and took control of your breathing. Darkness danced along the edges as you watched Joe thrust closer to coming. He let go of your throat. The rush of oxygen sent you careening over the precipice, pulling Joe down with you. He helped you ride out your high, then eased out.

“Technically,” he panted, “I didn’t get the answer out of you that I wanted.”

In your haze, you let your heart take over instead of your rational mind.

“Oh, no. Then I guess you’ll have to try and convince me again.”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

WWE Tags: @a-home-for-stray-stories @crossfit-princess-sethie-boo @flightofthefantasies @kaleywwefan @mother-forker @neversatisfiedgirl @racheo91 @roman-reigns-princess @savmontreal @secretagentfangirl @thetherianthropydaily @wwe-smutfics 

Yuletide Mischief

Aebli Leave a comment

At the Yule banquet, the reader wears a revealing dress that inspires Loki to ensure she remembers who she is married to.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: teasing, use of magic, bondage (kinda), teasing/SMUT in public, food mention

Word Count: 1540

Note: Felt like writing something naughty for the winter break. Please let me know if you enjoyed it likes, comments, and reblogs. (Comments and additions on reblogs make me giggly.) My tag lists and requests are open. Please enjoy!  

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With a twirl, you admired your gown and figure in the mirror. Loki was already present at the Yule banquet. Frigga had requested his assistance with some Seidr decorations. For all his sly pride and tricks, Loki loved this time of year. Outside may be blue and white with cold, but inside everything was decorated in his and his brother’s colors of green and red. He smiled more around Yuletime as well. More accepted. More at home than any other time of the year.

You spun again with a giggle. The dress was a special commission for you as an early Yule gift for Loki. The neckline put the swell of your breasts on full display, though modestly covered with a sheer layer of golden lace. Not that it would save you from blushing. Gold ribbons crisscrossed the shimmery green fabric. If the firelight hit it just right, observers would be able to see your family color of blue in the swells and crests as you moved. But it was mostly green and gold to match your husband’s motley. The special addition, though, was the slit on one side running up from the hem to your upper thigh. You used your Seidr to decorate your thigh with henna-like designs hiding symbols used only between you and Loki. Ones that would make him jealous, and also possessively aroused.

A young maid knocked on your chamber door announcing the beginning of the pre-banquet festivities.

You left her to surprise Loki.

The banquet hall’s twin was covered in glittering adornments from floor to ceiling. Streamers and winter flowers framed Frigga and Loki’s moving portraits of Yule’s past. For all of the ornamentation, the members of the court twittered and filled the hall with beautiful song. Many forwent their usual colors. Instead, green and red were the colors of the evening. Finding Loki would be difficult. More difficult than you imagined. As others danced in the center, you were floated from portrait to portrait as various courtiers cooed of Loki’s skill, praising you for calming his tricks to just a few pranks over the year.

Another hand clasped you and pulled you away from a group. “Have you been looking for me?” Loki’s voice eased you to melt in his arms as he swept you away for a dance.

“Yes, darling. Awe-struck nobility kept me from my task though.” You looked around again as he twirled you. “The hall is beautiful.”

“Thank you. I’m glad the muse is impressed.” Loki frowned, eyeing the slit in your dress as you stepped forward with the dance. “And what is this?”

“It’s your Yule present. Well, one of them. Do you like it?”

“In a sort. Though why you chose to gift it to the court as well is beyond me.” Loki’s eyes glittered as the music came to an end. “What are you playing at, Y/N? You know you will not be able to out-mischief me.”

Your reply was interrupted by a chorus of bells that drew everyone’s attention to the doors to the banquet hall. Before the last tone faded away, they swung open to reveal the table long enough to seat the whole court. Loki frowned at you and led you to your seat. He pushed in your chair next Frigga on Odin’s right, then sat across from you next to Thor. Through Odin’s Yule speech, Loki kept his eyes locked with you, making you shiver under his gaze.

As the feat began, Loki hovered various foods to your plate. He seared runes onto meat, cut it into vegetables, and let you the message that this dinner would not pass without some revenge. You prepared yourself to see what else he would say, through runes or out loud, that he knew would make you blush.

But he said nothing.

He hadn’t broken gaze during the speech. Now he barely looked at you, leaving you to debate magical practices with Frigga. Thor noticed and occasionally looked at you as the banquet progressed. As the time slugged by, and the runes faded from your food, unease like waiting for the first horn of battle settled into your stomach. As more time passed, you wondered if you read the runes wrong and that they said the night would not pass instead of the dinner.

Then you felt a chill creep up your exposed thigh.

Your eyes went wide, but you quickly blinked them to normal to not draw attention to yourself. It circled down to your ankle and pulled it against the chair leg. Something like metal clasped shut. Now you wouldn’t be able to press your thighs together without turning awkwardly from Frigga. The chill warmed the longer it was in contact with your skin. It crept up your thigh, circling and squeezing. Your breath came out in short gasps, though you were able to keep your chest from heaving.

“Y/N, are you alright? You look a little flush.” Frigga’s voice brought you back to focus.

“Yes. It’s wonderfully warm in here. Is it just from the fire, or did you finally get the circulation spell working?”

Frigga branched off into detail, but you were only half listening. The warm tendril had worked its way up to the top band of your panties. You waited with baited breath for it to work under the band. Loki’s eyes caught yours and for a split second you feared he would hold you on edge for the whole evening. He grinned in triumph as your fork fell from your hand. The warmth covered your whole sex, though a tendril worked on your clit. It split into two and the second began to tease its way into you. You gripped the edge of your chair in an effort to keep a placid face. If you were failing, nobody made mention.

Loki winked.

The tendrils took turns vibrating against you. Alternating and ever-changing patterns brought you quickly to the brink. But he kept you on the edge. Loki avoided the areas he knew you were sensitive at. He hit just next to them. Acknowledging them made them more desperate. You fought bucking in your chair for relief. The series of toasts were coming up, and you had an inkling you knew which one he was aiming you make you cum on.

Odin stood and raised his glass. The assembly remained sitting but raised their glasses. “To victories that we have won in this year, and to the brave warriors that brought them, we salute you!” The assembly echoed his last phrase and drank.

The tendril on your clit stopped moving but did not move away. The second moved slowly in a delicious drag.

“To the peace we have found, and to the bountiful harvest that feeds Asgard and her neighbors, we drink and feast to make room for more.”

The second tendril began to move faster. The first began light taps on your clit, jolting you in your chair.

Thor stood with his goblet. “And to the king, father to all: Odin. May the next one thousand years be as prosperous as the first.

You almost choked drinking the toast as Loki’s magic took over your senses. Goosebumps broke out over your body and you quaked in your chair. A mist settled over your eyes. The haze tunneled your sight to the god across the table. Blood pounded in your ears. You could hear how ragged your breath was, like waves before a storm.

Still, the tendrils continued to work you higher into bliss. The one on your clit took up its earlier pattern, though faster and more focused. The second split into several inside you so as to reach every sensitive point at once.

Your usual shout of ecstasy fell out as a whimper, unheard in the din of applause for the toasts. Loki smiled in triumph and lifted his glass towards you. As he drank, the magic fell from your body, and your ankle was released. Your head lolled to one side as you fought to keep your posture.

Frigga’s voice brought you to attention. “Are you alright, dear? Your flush is deeper than before.”

“Yes, my queen,” you nearly croaked. “I think the Yule ale has rushed to my head. I might retire before the closing dances, by your leave.”

“Of course; rest well. I will see you again tomorrow.”

It took the rest of the banquet for you to ease your breathing back into its usual pattern. By then, Loki was again avoiding your gaze. Finally, Odin announced the final revelry. Loki took the chance to leave with you by a side door.

“Have you learned your lesson, pet?” You hummed positively. He looped his arm in yours so you could lean your head on his shoulder. Loki paused outside of your shared chambers. “You said earlier that this gown was only one of my Yule presents. What are the others?”

A thrill ran through you. The night still had room for more mischief. “You have to unwrap the first gift to get to the others.” You tugged on the sheer lace of your bodice, revealing just a thin ribbon of the lace garments underneath the gown.

Loki licked his lips and quickly led you inside.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @savmontreal @zuni21798

Loki/Marvel Tags: @1superwhogirl1 @anicoles22 @asaltyhoe @coastall-girll @cutie1365 @damalseer @directionerbucks @drumbells @dylpicklesprays @earinafae @fandom1089 @feircecupcake1 @gothicbubblegumrock @holyshitijust  @indaybella99 t @itsjusthaawo @itstheghostgirl @itswingedprincess @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @kawaiinekosagi @kur0k1tsun3-blog @mayorofzillyhoo @millie67 @mimitamsin @moonyscardigans @mrs-hemmings1996 @obsessedtmifangirl @petlaufeyson @redstarstan   @sherlocksuperfan666 @shockwavee @solsticestorm @southernhoney21 @thecookieteam @the-internet-is-forever @theriumking @toxicobscenity @unknown-chronicles @valynsia @waywardsoulpainter @xluciferswhore @xxsweet-little-666xx @zaddywilk @anotherfashionandbeautyblog  

Sister in Arms Part 4: Gone

Aebli Leave a comment

While Finn is distracted fighting with Elias, Y/N has to deal with the sudden arrival of Bray.

Pairing: None

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, creepy Bray

Word Count: 760 (short, but intense)

Note: I hope I wasn’t too obvious leading up to the plot twist in this chapter. Elias’s song is based on The Civil War’s “The One That Got Away.” Please have mercy; poetry and songwriting is not my thing. Anyways and as always, please let me know how you’re liking this series, what you think is going to happen, or any other notes with likes, comments and reblogs. My tag lists (including the one for this series) are open and so are my requests. Now please enjoy this newest chapter!

Part 1: I Know You Best 

Part 2: Enemies Closer 

Part 3: Keep Your Power Close 

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With the single light on the ring, the crowd let up a mixture of boos and applause. Elias began his usual spiel, introducing himself and asking who wanted to walk with him. He was impressed by the swell of applause at his question.

“Now tonight I have a special song. It is dedicated not just to my opponent this week, but to my opponent last week as well.” He absently strummed his guitar, gathering his thoughts, then began.

“To the one known as Y/N and Finn

To the ones that follow them like sheep

I wish you were the ones

I wish you were the ones that’d go away

“I got caught up by the chase

And lost sight of ev’ry other thing

I wish you were the ones

I wish you were the ones that’d go away

“Oh, If I could go back in time when Y/N

Was just a name I would hear

In the stories of an Irish demon out of place

Oh, I wish I’d never ever seen your face

I wish you were the ones

Wish you were the ones that’d go away.”

You were able to hold Finn back so Elias could finish his song. But as soon as it ended, you gave a nod to the techie so they could que Finn’s music before Elias could collect his adoration. Finn did the intro of his entrance alone, then at the part where he would begin to walk down the ramp, you joined him. You kept your eyes on Elias, observing his reaction to every movement Finn made. From the floor, you joined the Balor Club in doing Finn’s entrance. That was never going to get old.

The bell rang and the match was called for one fall. Finn passed you his jacket to lay on the stairs while Elias ripped his shirt in half. You rolled your eyes at how dramatic they both were. The guys had just started to circle one another when the lights dimmed and flickered. They sprang back from one another and watched their own backs as Bray’s face stuttered onto the screen.

He didn’t say anything. Just cackled. Then his voice changed, heightened, and his face shimmered to include the burlap veil of Sister Abigail. Her laughter was just as eerie and sent chills down your spine. You jumped as Finn kneeled and placed his hand on your shoulder. Together you watched Bray’s face change back, then flicker out. Your heart was thundering in your chest long before the lights came on.

Finn and Elias shared a questioning look. Finn sighed. Elias shrugged before rushing forward to start the fight. Watching Elias fight up close revealed how much he didn’t hold back when he fought you. It pleased you how he regarded you as an equal in the ring. Neither of the men was underestimating the other.  They exchanged hits and grumbled underhanded insults exemplary of the old rivalry between them. You found yourself flinching when either of them hit the canvas hard or took a painful-looking hit.

The lights flickered again.

You kept your eyes on Finn in the ring, assuming Bray would appear as close to him as possible.

That was a mistake.

Finn spun around in the ring looking for Bray in the dim illumination. Elias had backed off into a corner, leaving the two supernatural beings to take each other out. His eyes grew wide as he looked past Finn and past you on the floor. The hair bristled on the back of your neck.

“Balor!” He pointed behind you.

Finn spun around just in time to see Bray’s arms wrap around your throat and waist. Your scream was cut off as everything went black.

Finn stood frozen in shock. His eyes darted over the spot where you once stood as if you would reappear just as quickly.

The slight bounce of the canvas brought his attention back to Elias who was walking to the center of the ring.

Elias had his hands up in peace. “Pin me.”

“What?”

“Pin me and go after her. Or let me pin you. Don’t just stand there.” Elias lowered his hands and motioned for Finn to fight him.

Finn gave a shout, then used his boiling rage to attack Elias. The Drifter fell quickly and didn’t fight back as the ref counted to three.

They were both out of the ring like a shot. On the ground they froze, eyeing each other warily. With a nod, they ran up the ramp and backstage together to look for you.

Part 5: Under the White Hood  

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @savmontreal @zuni21798

WWE Tags: @roman-reigns-princess @sabrinaoctaviagunner @thetherianthropydaily @kingslayers-angel @flightofthefantasies @neversatisfiedgirl @thessaswea @ava-lipstickytoffee @sweetxchains @raindrops-and-swag @jgtx18 @mariejr88-blog @fuentesmagix @abominablestrowman279 @hosnapes @sandriie @cam0flug3 @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @alafairftw @bellambrose @mrsbreezango @ohnoitsmegan @ohnojustimagine @wrestlingbabe @undisputedopc @sixdegreesofsamson @buffytheangelslayer @aneclecticwriter @1rsolideranna @viperslunatic @dlissa @miss-superstar15 @littleprincess1621 @maahsrandom @empress-with-the-crown @wrestlingbabe @musicismylife-03 @nickie-amore @imaprincess09 @helasyrtrez @miss-superstar15 

Sister in Arms Part 3: Keep Your Power Close

Aebli Leave a comment

Your “date” has come up with Elias. Finn is still anxious that Bray is going to try something, so he stays ringside and proves to be a helpful friend. But the night does not end in any way that you could have foreseen.

Pairing: None really… a little Elias x Reader (flirt fighting)

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, use of steel chair and kendo stick

Word Count: ~1750

Note: Each chapter is getting more fun to write. Thank you guys for all of the sweet notes you’ve been leaving on the other parts. I hope you continue to enjoy this series as it moves forward (or lovingly hate it as drama gets a shot of angst.) Please continue to reblog, like, and comment your reactions to this. If you’ve got theories of what will happen next or things that don’t feel right, let me know. My tag lists are open, as well as my requests [I’m going to keep writing for other fandoms while putting this series out.] Here’s the next part for your pleasure!

Part 1: I Know You Best 

Part 2: Enemies Closer 

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From the darkness of the Gorilla, you heard Elias sang about the city hosting Raw. He didn’t mention you. It made your skin vibrate with the thought of irritating him enough to incite a song dedicated to you. But maybe you were getting ahead of yourself.

Finn popped his collar next to you, giving you a nod as your music started. Even from the stage, you could feel Elias’s irritation from the interruption. Swallowing a giggle, you let your face settle into a sly grin against his frown. He gave a shout and stomped off to hand his guitar out of the ring as Finn’s music swell up through yours. Finn stepped out to the deafening cheers of the Balor Club. If you didn’t need the focus so much, you would have smiled as big as your face would have let you. Finn motioned to the ring and stepped in time with you down the ramp.

You heard Corey as you and Finn walked by the announce table. “Finn must not trust Elias, or possibly even Bray who’s been quiet for a few weeks now, to not corrupt this ‘no disqualification’ fight tonight. Y/N might want to keep an eye out for the guitar, too.” Finn grinned at you at the comment. In the ring, you lifted your arms with his entrance with a bright smile that threatened to send your cheeks into spasms, unable to hold it back any longer. Finn took your jacket and rolled out. He waved off your warning face. He wouldn’t interfere unless absolutely necessary. Seeing him ready to spring at the drop of a hat helped keep your heart from thundering out of your chest. It had been a long time since you had gotten to fight with your best friend nearby.

The bell rang and you met Elias in the center of the ring.

“Hello,” he rumbled with a slight nod.

“Hi.” Again, you could feel your cheeks twitch with a smile you didn’t want to show.

Elias held out his hand for a handshake. Your gut told you to slap it away or to use it against him, but a small voice in your head told you to take it as a sign of sportsmanship. A split second after the shake, you bounced away from one another, taking turns stalking and waiting for the other to make the first move.

He moved first, forcing you into a battle of strength that you quickly lost. He forced you back into his corner, taking until the four count to move out of your space. He grinned at the ref, already sure that this would be an easy fight. Your sidekick into his stomach was sure to change his mind quickly. You followed up with a series of kicks. Elias stumbled back, coming to sit on the bottom rope in the opposite corner.

“Huh,” he said.

You smirked at him. Screw hiding your smiling. You were going to enjoy this match and not worry about what faces you made.

Elias was already to his feet and rushing towards you when you moved out of the corner. Elias misread your jump and felt the full effect of a sling-blade, making you laugh. He growled and smiled at you, shoving off your first attempt to pin him. He rolled you to your back and trapped your shoulders under his large hands.

“This is not going to be your night, sweetheart. I promise.”

You kicked your way at two. “We’ll see about that.”

“Not here for a month yet and you’re already using cliché quotes at me? I just lost the last sliver of respect for you.”

You shut him up with more kicks and a few punches. “I don’t need your respect. I’ve done just fine without it.” Even so, you winked at him as he staggered to his feet. You shouldn’t have. The half-blindness, even for just the split second, was enough to block out the oncoming left hook. You rolled out of the ring to take a breather.

Finn was by your side in an instant. “You a’right?”

“Yeah. I know, I know. Less flirting, more fighting. Any tips you can’t hold back any longer?”

Finn smiled. “This is a no disqualifications match, right?” You nodded and let understanding wash over you as he lifted up the ring curtain to reveal the storage of chairs and kendo sticks. He nodded in agreement as you pulled out a chair. His eyes widened, and you turned just in time to avoid Elias’s oncoming shoulder, sending the musician falling back as you attacked that shoulder with the chair. Finn stepped away after giving your back one last encouraging pat.

You gave Elias a few more strikes from the chair, sending him reeling towards the sound booth. It didn’t register that you didn’t have the upper hand until the guitar came rushing towards your face. You dropped the chair and hit the deck, rolling back to your feet a short distance away.

“Hey! Hang on a second.” You kept your hands up until he lowered the instrument/weapon, having lost the element of surprise, and then reached under the ring. Elias caught the kendo stick you threw to him. “Don’t mess up another one of your guitars. They are beautiful and don’t deserve to be smashed. Please.” You waited until Elias gave the guitar back to a techie before rolling into the ring.

Elias brought the kendo stick with him, swinging it around like a baseball bat. With a stutter of frustration, you realized you had left the steel chair on the floor. Elias saw the thought pass across your face and smiled. He chased you to the ropes. The tip of the kendo stick kept you off balance as he dug it into your chest, pinning you against the ropes.

“Finn, no!” You knocked the stick out of the way as Finn rolled into the ring. Elias swung at him, but you stepped between them, taking the shot to your back. You grit your teeth against screaming and weakly pushed Finn away. “I’ve got this. Trust me. That was the deal. I take care of Elias, you watch for Bray.” You waited until your best friend was on the floor again before turning back to your opponent.

The turn was just in time to see the stick coming your way, but not enough to avoid it.

You crumbled to your knees with the strike, then arched as Elias hit you again. You could hear Finn growl.

Elias tossed the weapon away. He picked you up by your hair and then power-bombed you. Your vision flickered when you hit the canvas. The following three-count sounded in the back of your mind as if hearing it through a canyon or an underwater cave.

Finn rolled into the ring, but Elias ducked out on another side. He smirked and winked at you as Finn helped you to your feet. Once you were steady, Finn went to the ropes and shouted at Elias, “I’m gunna kick yer arse!” Finn’s fuming wasn’t enough to keep Elias from sending you one last little wave, then hastily exiting up the ramp. You joined him at the ropes, whispering that you were fine though rubbing the back of your head.

The lights flickered out. When they came back, Bray Wyatt’s face was on the jumbo screen smirking down at you and Finn. Irritated, you turned away and went for some mics. No way was this going to be a one-sided conversation.

“Hello, Finn. Have you rested enough for your mortal form to survive the toil of Raw?” Bray giggled as you rejoined Finn and handed him a mic. “And Y/N, I had hoped our introductions would be in person, but fate did not allow such circumstances.”

“Good grief,” you mumbled under your breath, “he’s even more annoying than I thought.”

“Whot do ya want, Bray?” Finn’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to keep his calm.

“I have some advice, from a god to a demon. And to the one who befriends them.”

“All lack of respect due,” you growled, “we don’t really want it.” The Balor Club cheered in agreement; Finn grinned and nudged your arm in solidarity.

“Go back ta yer backwoods, Bray. Find some other wrestl’r ta play with. This man, and demon, Balor Club is done with the mind games.”

Bray leaned forward in his chair, a laugh rumbling through the sound system. “But that is what I have come to warn you about, Finn Balor. Your power in the Balor Club relies on your ability to keep them entertained. To protect their fickle minds from being stolen by the next best thing. Keep your power close, old friend. It can be taken in the blink of an eye. You are not out of the woods yet.” Bray let out another eerie laugh that was cut off by the flickering of the screen.

When the lights came back up, you could see how white Finn’s knuckles were against the black paint on the mic. You shared a look, then went backstage, both deep in silent thought.

Charlie caught up with you and stepped in front of Finn. “Finn, Bray has seemingly been unable to move on from his obsession with the Demon King. What are your thoughts on his ‘advice?’” She held out her mic.

Finn took a deep breath and sighed. “Charlie, Bray can give all the advice he likes. But it doesn’ mean a ting. Tha Balor Club is not easily swayed by ‘nex big tings,’ he’s too shifty to know reliability when he sees it. My pow’r is just fine, and will be if Bray ever stomachs up enough to show his face in the ring again.”

“What are you going to do about Elias? You seemed pretty angry with his actions tonight as well.”

“Elias will get his due. I’m sure he’s already talkin’ ta Kurt to set the match.”

“We’ll be ready,” you said. Charlie moved the mic so you could be heard. You looked at Finn and said, “you were there for my match, I’ll be there for yours. I know you can handle Elias on your own, but with what Bray said, I’m not leaving your side open for some Wyatt mischief. We’ll be ready, Charlie.”

Charlie was left standing in the hallway as you and Finn left to come up with a plan… if there was anything that could be planned.

Part 4: Gone 

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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 

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Knowing What She Likes

Aebli Leave a comment

Prompt: “Hello! Can I have a Sherlock smut image based on the song Show Me by Bruno Mars? Thank you!!

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: SMUT, intellectual smut

Word Count: 800+

Note: Thanks to @moonlight-dean for this request. Sorry it took so long, but hopefully it’s worth the wait. I hope you all enjoy it. Please reblog, comment, or like to let me know how you feel about this fic. If you have an idea, send me a request!

She looked perfect. Her hair ringed her face, which was glowing in the moonlight. Her lips were plump from the kissing they just broke away from. Sherlock wanted to taste them again, engorge himself on her flavour and move with her like they did when lost in one another.

“Sherlock?”

Her voice pulled his eyes up to hers. They were gleaming.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head. Why don’t you show me what you’re thinking?”

He growled low. There were so many things flying through his mind, too many to do all at once for it is impossible to move fast and to move slow. Or is it?

Y/N reached up and twirled her fingers in his hair, then tugging just slightly. In an instant, Sherlock was sucking at her neck. She squirmed underneath him, gasping and pressing her chest up against his. He snaked a hand up under her top, spidering touches across her skin till it raised in chill bumps. Sherlock’s lips honed in on her pulse point as he kneaded her breasts. She lifted up so he could remove her top and toss it somewhere in the room. She took that moment to rub her hand over his erection. The pull of the boxer fabric and the warmth of her hand sent him crumpling to one side.

“Mmm,” she hummed, working her fingers under the waistband. “Let’s relieve some of that tension, shall we?” She sat on his chest once he was free. Her weight pleasantly rubbed her core up and down against him till he broke out into a sweat.

She was good. And she knew it.

At this rate, he knew he wasn’t going to last ten minutes.

She giggled as he flipped them and pinned her arms underneath her. He watched her face as he played his fingers up her leg and her thigh to her sex. She moaned at him, pleading, as he ghosted over her mound. Y/N gasped as he began to pump his middle finger into her, curling it and playing. She cried out when he found the right place. Sherlock gently pressed against her hips, preventing her from bucking. He noted how her skin glistened brighter than his own sheen. He could never voice the words to her of how much he loves seeing her this way.

Lost in euphoria. Shivering with rising anticipation. Eyes fluttering and asking “please” over and over again till he gives her what she wants.

Sherlock adds another digit, widening her and curling them alternately till her walls clamp around them. She cries out in pleasure. His favourite sound.

He guides her through the aftershocks, stroking her to sooth her shivering. She sinks into the sheets with a sigh. Her eyes open to find his staring down at her, memorising the lines of her face. How long did he dream of this? Memorising how her cheeks flush when she smiles at him? How her eyelashes curl and meet one another as she blinks? How her brow creases just a little as he leans down to press his forehead against hers?

“I could memorise you forever,” he murmurs.

Her arms wobble like jelly as she pulls them to her sides, then up to his shoulders. She drags her legs open so he can slot himself between them. Her fingernails rake at his back as he slowly sinks in, relishing in the warmth and the grip she has on his cock and his mind.

He focuses on how her chest is flushed with heat as it presses into his.

She bucks her hips up to meet him, mewling for him to move. He pulls out and slams back into her. He tries to keep focused on her, on his favourite sound that she’s making, instead of losing everythig to himself. Y/N. Gasping and moaning. She curls her legs around him, pulling him further into her. Digging her fingers into his back.

Skin on skin and their mingled mangled breaths echo in the room. The build is coming to a head. The pull of her walls around him pushes away every mental faculty. Even to breathe.

Again, she’s perfect under him. Hair tangled. Eyes closed. Mouth open. Lips swollen. Glistening.

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.

He forces her arms into the sheets, holding his palms against her wrists. Her pulse is quick. Stuttering as her walls clamps down on him, pulling a cry from him.

Time dilates.

He spills into her, stilling as each rope throbs through him. She jolts as he continues to thrust as each one coats her insides.

His muscles fail him as he falls to one side, panting. She wiggles closer to him, curling into his chest. Her breath is faint and silent and cool on his chest.

He can feel her heartbeat with his. He counts beats like seconds till his vision fades out, lost in her scent and the feel of her skin on his. An island of two.

Promises Part 5: A Simple Answer

Aebli Leave a comment
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Y/N responds to Theoric’s question as the battle with the Fire Giants draws closer.

Characters: Reader (Y/N), Loki, Theoric, Frigga

Warnings: magic/sorcery, upcoming battle violence

Word Count: 1960

Note: It is getting heavy now. Please let me know what you think is going to happen next with a comment or reblog, or just like it. That works too. Constructive feedback is always welcome. And my requests are open, so don’t hesitate to send me an idea. Once this series ends I’m going to need them…

Part 1: Under the Stars        Part 2: Intimidation        Part 3: Faltering 

Part 4: A Simple Question 

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Theoric pulled out a golden band set with a ruby and pearls.

“Y/N of Asgard, will you give me the great honor of being my wife?”

Time slowed. You watched as Theoric slid the ring onto your finger before turning your hand over to kiss your palm. The world came back into focus with a pop as Theoric continued.

“You do not have to choose now. But wear this as you consider my request.”

“She does not have to consider it.” Loki shouldered his way between you and Theoric. Theoric stood, infringing on Loki’s space and coming eye to eye with him. Loki growled, staring him down.

You touched Loki’s arm, gasping as he cringed from your touch. “Loki, why are you acting like this?” He spun to face you, his features contorted in rage underlined with fear. “Why are you afraid of my answer?”

“Because I know this whole tryst is so unlike you,” Loki spat. If eyes were daggers, Loki’s side glance would have cut Theoric down in a second.

“Who says it is unlike me?” Something was wrong, you could feel it like fire under your stomach. “I look forward to my time with Theoric. But Loki, I am fearful of only one thing.” The flame jumped to your heart, spewing the words like lava from a mountain. “I am beginning to resent time I am around you. It has been growing in me like a weed I cannot kill. What happened to us? We used to know each other’s thoughts before they could even be spoken. Now when I am around, you are brooding and filled with ideas of conspiracy. You fight me at every step. I do not know you anymore.”

Loki stepped back from you, mouth agape as he drank in air. You braced yourself on a shelf across from him. The words hurt you as much as they seemed to hurt him, but you didn’t stop. You reached out for Theoric, who took your hand and steadied you.

You kept your eyes on Loki as you spoke. “I graciously accept your proposal, Theoric.” He pulled your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles above his ring. Loki stormed off in a flutter of leather and shimmering armor deeper into the library.

“Come,” Theoric hummed, pulling you back to him. “We must tell our parents and the court.”

“Yes, Darling.” You let him lead you out of the library, heart still thundering from the confrontation. You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth. You had never called Theoric ‘darling’ before, and it tasted bitter.

Hours after the announcement you stood in a circle with Frigga and a few other court sorceresses. Each had a piece of parchment with a phrase on it to repeat over and over till the test was done. Inside the circle was a dark, round table with a piece of the Bifrost under a miniature of the palace. The Fire Giants weren’t going to slow their attack just because you were engaged.

“Shall we begin?” Frigga asked. Everyone nodded and looked to you.

You placed your arms at your sides and opened your palms to the table. You started chanting your phrase. The ink glowed on the parchment, golden, then red. The glow spread to the other sheets as each member took up the mantra. Your voices grew as the light shimmered off the paper towards the shard of Bifrost. It spun, faster and faster as everyone spoke louder and hurried. Soon there was an orb stretching up from the flake, crawling up an invisible ball toward the peak. Your voices thundered as one as the strands touched, turning the orb blue. The voices stopped and echoed through the space. The orb spun and glittered.

You sighed and smiled at Frigga, who smiled back.

With a zing, the orb burst, sending everyone flying back from the circle to the floor.

The room tilted as you pulled yourself into a sitting position. “Is everyone alright?” you asked, noting how hoarse you sounded. A chorus of “yes” sounded off as everyone shakily got back to their feet.

“Y/N, what happened?” Frigga steadied herself on the table. The Bifrost sherd was dark as coal. The miniature wasn’t even a pile of dust.

“I’m not sure.” You pulled out your notes and the Ars Notoria from under the table. “We did everything like it said. Nobody is wearing anything enchanted, correct?” You sighed as everyone nodded. “Maybe I have the pronunciation wrong.” You frowned at the sherd. “And I had hoped it would not drain the Bifrost.”

“That is why we perform small tests first, Lady Y/N,” one of the women said with a small smile. The rest nodded and made short comments in agreement.

Frigga gave your shoulder a pat. “No one has read that text in a thousand years. That you were able to make something at all is a wonder. I have full confidence that you will work it out. Come, let us all rest. It is late.”

You stayed behind in the hall as they left. The spell was so vexing in front of you that you missed Theoric walking in.

He leaned down next to you, “do you see a solution yet?”

You jumped with a squeak of fright. In a second you had your fingers clasped around his throat and a dagger pricking at his stomach. He stayed unmoving as you took a moment to register it was him.

“Theoric!” You pulled your hands back. “Please do not frighten me like that.”

“I will try to remember that, and that you are armed.”

You slipped the dagger back into its sheath with a grimace. “Sorry.”

Theoric rubbed his hands up and down your arms before kissing your forehead. You breathed him in, letting his presence relax you till he spoke again.

“Consider the hall beneath the court.”

“Why?” you asked, still not looking at him, choosing instead to sink further into his chest.

“It is empty, and would have enough room to house the contraption you are planning to construct to amplify the spell.”

Your “contraption” was a spinning ring that would contain the spell while also sending the power to the top tower to create a dome. You had to admit he was right. The empty hall was vast, and was windowless, making it perfectly secure.

“Does that answer the problem you had?”

You stepped back from him with a smile. “No, but it is a valid point, Theoric. You will make a great leader one day.”

“If I do, it will be because you have taught me how to defend my ideas through practice and example.”

“You flatter me,” you said, blushing.

“Anything for you, ljós af hjarta mínu, light of my heart.” He kissed your cheek and walked away, leaving you to study the texts once more.

The burning in your stomach flared up again. You could have sworn Theoric couldn’t read the Ars Notoria, much less speak the language of it. The flame died away as you pushed the phrase to the back of your mind.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Your mother wiped away a tear caught in her eyelash.

You spun again, loving the way the skirt flared and made the colors dance. You were to wear Theoric’s family colors, and he yours, to show the two families coming together. Your hair was left flowing with its natural form, and your mother had securely pinned the silver bridal crown and ringed it with fresh flowers. This was all practice of course, but you felt breathless.

You were going to be a married woman.

The mirror caught your reflection as you stood before it. You felt blissful, but the fire in your stomach was growing stronger, crimping your brow in pain.

“All you alright? What’s wrong?” Your mother came up behind you and felt your forehead.

You shooed her away. “Nothing. My stomach has been uneasy since Theoric proposed. Pre-wedding nerves, that is all.”

She frowned at you. “Are you sure? You and Theoric have not…?”

“No,” you sputtered. “Even if I was not waiting till I was wed, with everything going on with the Fire Giants… we have not had time to even think of that.” Against your will, Loki’s comment on how Theoric looked like a hungry snake invaded your mind. The pain in your stomach intensified, nearly doubling you over. Why did you feel guilty? You had come to love Theoric. He was not the aloof boy you met years ago. Focusing on why you loved Theoric helped ease the pain.

“Y/N, that looks more serious than ‘nerves.’”

“I know.” You removed the pins and your crown, sitting it on the table by the mirror. “I’m going to see Eir this evening. She’ll be able to use the soul forge and see what is wrong with me.”

Your mother untied the stays in your dress, muttering something about medicinal advancement too late. But your mind wandered elsewhere.

“Mother?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you and Father choose Theoric over Loki all those years ago?”

Your mother sighed and helped you step out of the dress. She thought for a moment while handing your usual courtly garb to you. “To be quite honest, we thought Odin would not approve. We were simple courtiers, and we started looking too soon. We thought time would bring you two together. Your tutelage under Frigga erased those early complications. For a brief moment, we considered bringing it up. Then Theoric came back, and you two fell in love.” She turned you to face her, resting her hands on your cheeks. “We had nothing against Loki. We simply wanted the best for you while not overreaching our status. We did not want to see your heart broken.” She dropped her hands to take hold of yours. “But you seem… apprehensive. Do you want more time to think on this arrangement?”

You pulled away from her as you thought. Did you? The rift between you and Loki was not what you wanted. A happy and equal marriage was something most young women strove for, but at what cost to you? You spun Theoric’s ring on your finger. Just feeling it against your skin felt like an answer.

“No. I love Theoric.”

That night, Theoric stood in front of the wall and mumbled the words. He was tired of this mirage, he wanted to finally show his true self. The door had barely manifested before he was rushing through it.

Loki peeked from his spot around the corner and followed him. For a split second, he hesitated to touch the door but took a deep breath before bursting through. He called out a quick confining spell, preventing the hall in front of Theoric from expanding anymore. Loki slid to a halt as Theoric’s low, rumbling laugh echoed back to him.

“To be honest, your highness, I am surprised it took you this long to follow me. Have you found your evidence to convict me?”

The papers in Loki’s chest pocket seemed to burn him. He stole them from your desk. A necessary risk of getting caught to see Theoric’s translations of darker spells.

“And what is your plan now, second prince? You save the day and the lady comes back to you?” Theoric laughed again. Loki was beginning to resent it. “I hope you realize that she is truly lost. She has no more room for you.” Theoric began to walk towards Loki.

“Only because you have trapped her. Your plans will not be able to hold her.”

Theoric stopped and grimaced. “You know nothing of my plans,” he growled. He pulled a dagger and launched himself at Loki, aiming for his throat.

Part 6: What About Her? 

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Satisfied

Aebli Leave a comment

An imagine of Cass using his grace on you.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: Smut! Grace bondage, multiple penetrations, oral (female receiving), talk of voyeurism, blacking out (in a very good way)

Word Count:457

Note: It’s my first fic with the angel so please let me know you enjoyed it by rebloging, liking, and commenting! And my requests are open…. just saying.

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Imagine you’re in the hotel after a hunt. Sam and Dean are off with their scores, so you’re left to please yourself. You know how you like it. Feathery touches, maybe a tie around your throat if you had someone with you. You know who could please you like that, but you don’t think he’ll come. So you play with his face in mind. Sighing and moaning with the thoughts of what he would do.

Then you hear the flutter of wings.

“It’s a sin to lust,’ he’d say. “You pray very loud, Y/N.” Would he step closer one step at a time, or would he suddenly have you pinned to the bed? He whispers in your ear, “you could be louder, though.”

While his grace held your hands above your head, would the angel first kiss every inch of your skin or just dive his face into your heat, eating you out like a starved man? His grace is more than you could ever have imagined, touching you everywhere he can’t while pulling you to your first high. You would come on his lips as his hands made bruises on your hips. Grace would tweak your nipples once your shuddering had subsided, making you jerk and gasp underneath him.

Would he then crawl up your body, or whisk you both over to the wall to hike your legs over his hips? Soft or hard? He’s obviously hard, but how tightly are you clenching around him? He would feel so good, long and thick. By now he’s naked as well, and you can see his form. His rutting builds you quickly; you cry out his name as you let the orgasm quake through you.

But he’s still going.

On the bed, he pulls you to sit on him as he lays down. “I’ve heard you praying for me before,” he would say, “so I know what you want.” His hips would thrust up into you while he pulled down on your hips. A cool touch runs up your legs and back to your hole. It would stretch you slowly, keeping an alternating rhythm to him beneath you. Would you brace yourself on his chest, or collapse onto him so he could kiss you while filling you?  No matter what, he would find a way to hit every spot that made you scream his name. Imagine seeing his wings spread underneath him as you climaxed just before your sight dissolved into white, then black.

He would call your name softly till you came back to him. He’s cleaned you up and his holding you close. Once he knows you’re okay, “are you satisfied? Was it everything you dreamed?”

Would you answer yes…

… or make him try again?

Two Hoods, One Revenge

Aebli Leave a comment

The reader and Red Hood have vowed vengeance against the
Joker, but there are times for softer moments as well.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: racial slur, flashback moments of peril/violence, SMUT,
breath play

Word Count: 1000+

Note: I couldn’t find any Jason
Todd smut, so wrote my own. It’s
shorter than usual but very focused. If
you enjoy it, please comment, like, and reblog!

image

“Y/N, go upstairs and hide. Don’t ask questions, just
go.”

You started to, but only ducked around the corner. There
wasn’t much to hide behind in the dojo anyways. If all else failed, you knew
you could escape to the roof and make a run for it.

Several men rushed through the front door; they were all
armed with machine guns. A man with chalky-white skin and green hair laughed
his way into the training room. Your father stood in the center, calm though
surrounded.

“Have you changed your mind, Papa-san?” he asked. His
voice as high pitched and teasing. “One of your students, who’s also a student
of mine, knows just how big your back room is. It’s the perfect place to house
some of my equipment.”

“The day that I let my space be used for crime, is the
day I will have broken my vow to never become a criminal.”

“Too bad. Looks
like either way you’re going to break it.” The Joker pulled out a gun and aimed
it at your father’s head.

You squeaked.

Joker looked up at you and smiled. Then pulled the
trigger.

You woke up in a sweat, with your hair and clothes plastered
to your body. Even two years later you couldn’t get the clown out of your head.
For two years you watched your mother fade away, your remaining family break
apart, and your friends walk away. For two years you trained, completely
consumed with the desire to finally bring home your father’s justice.

Then you met Jason.

He rolled over in the bed next to you, pulling you back down
into his arms. “Shhh, Y/N, it was just a dream. Come back to sleep.” You sank
into his arms. It was like sleeping with an ice pack, but you didn’t mind. You
almost made it the rest of the night, but still,
he came.

“This city is crawling with new vigilantes,” Joker said, hovering over you. “Which one are you?”
Your failed attempt at vengeance was about to end. His henchmen pinned you
down, even though you stopped struggling long ago. “Too bad, sweetheart. A
little more skill and you might have actually made a name for yourself.”

He pulled back the hammer, cocking the gun with a click.

The citizens you were trying to save gasped and turned
away.

“Hey, Acid Wash!” Red Hood appeared upside down as you
arched to see him.

Everything moved quickly, but at the same time, everything
moved in slow motion.

You had Joker in your grasp. Your fingers were wrapped
around his throat. But his fingers were still wrapped around his gun. Fire
ripped through your shoulder.

This time you woke up screaming. Jason grabbed you, pinning
your arms to your side. He whispered your name over and over till you calmed
down.

“Which one was it this time?” he asked, smoothing down your
hair.

“Getting shot. The first time.” You had been working with
Red Hood now for months. Getting shot at was part of the job description. Your
shoulder still ached from time to time
but was numb when the nightmares kept coming back. “I don’t think I can go back
to sleep. Not yet.”

“It’s 5:30. Some people are waking up at this time. We can
have ice cream for breakfast.”

“No. I was thinking of something a little… warmer.” You
looked up at him through your eyelashes.

He squeezed you tighter. “Oh really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well then,” Jason said, his voice and octave lower, “how
cold are you?”

“Frigid,” you whispered.

As Red Hood, he could be brutal in a fight.  But as Jason at home with you, he was slower,
richer.

His fingers knew every way to caress your skin. They slid up
your torso, taking your tank top with them till it was over your head and gone.
His thumb slid over the scar on your shoulder, making you shiver. He was
already topless, and in the pale light,
you could see where the shadows emphasized his muscles and scars. With just the
tips of his fingerprints, he could bring
your nipples into hard pebbles.

Then his mouth descended onto your neck. He nipped and
sucked his way over your collarbone and up to that space that made you groan in
pleasure. As his hands continued to massage your breasts, he made his mark.
Then his lips were pressed against yours, moaning into your mouth as you arched
your hips into his bulge. He kissed his way to your ear and rolled his hips to match you.

Your hands wandered down to palm him, and to play at the hem
of his boxers. He leaned forward and rested on his elbows so you could remove
them, and then your own shorts.

There was never a preamble. No teasing. Just the smooth drag
of him inside you that pulled growls out of him
and gasps out of you. Your favorite melody. His slow thrusts into you gave you
time to accommodate his girth, even then he sometimes stopped to pant and
comment on how tight you were. Tonight, he simply kissed your harder and
gritted is teeth. You felt the build inside you. Your sighs increased in pitch.
Jason sped up to match until everything washed over you.

His fingers wrapped around your throat. As oxygen was denied
to your lungs, you felt and heard everything in sharper tones. Jason’s grunts.
The slow slapping of skin on skin. Your wheezes for air. The pulling of him against you. The spark of
pleasure each time he found your perfect spot. And the jolt as his other hand
sank to rub your clit in hard, quick circles. Just before you could black out
from stimulation and lack of air, he released your throat. Everything came into
focus, and you screamed as you peaked.

Jason followed soon after, spilling into you. You were on
the pill and loved the sensation of having
him fully inside of you. He collapsed next to you and pulled you close. Skin to
skin, sweat to sweat. He fell asleep quickly, but you stayed awake a moment
longer to enjoy the moment.

At night, he was Red Hood and you were Nightshade, disguised
in a midnight blue cowl. You hunted down Joker’s men and got in the way of his
operations. One day you would end him. But in the early morning light when
neither of you could sleep, you were Jason and Y/N. Lovers.

You slept till noon. Dreamless.