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deepdisireslonging · 28 days

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A Good Handle on Things

The Reader turns heel, which turns on her boyfriend. Despite not having much time to explore the possibilities, the Reader makes the best of it.

Pairing: Will Ospreay x Reader

Warnings/Promises: public SMUT in a closet, subby!Will, handjob, oral (male receiving), quickie, implied further smut

Word Count: 1215

Note: Happy Easter! This Ospreay guy is starting to grow on me. I haven't thought much about writing for him. Let’s change that, shall we? Happy reading!

To the roar of the crowd, you happily left the arena. Things were going perfectly. Your new gear was a hit. And, more importantly, the crowd despised your heel turn. The cost was high, threatening your relationship with over half of the women’s division. Maybe with the heat, more people would become invested in what you ladies were up to, and Tony Khan would finally agree to more TV time.

You were as much of a success backstage as the crowd hated you out front. After receiving your congratulations for becoming AEW’s most hated woman, you practically skipped to your dressing room.

Where a tall drink of tea was leaning against your door.

“Well done, love. Couldn’t have stabbed my best friend in the back better myself.” Will wrapped your arms around his neck so he could bury his nose into your hair. “No hard feelin’s between us, right? I don’t think I’d survive being your next target.”

“Not that I can think of,” you said with a giggle. Then you leaned into his embrace. And pressed into something promising. “Will, honey. Is there something else hard between us?”

He looked up at the ceiling, innocent as a rotten rosebud. “Maybe-“ he dragged out. “And maybe… I think I like you best as a heel. It’s… it’s something, ta say the least.”

“To the least.” You bit your bottom lip, and started curling your fingers in the short hairs at the base of his neck. “I’m glad you like my new schtick. But, I hate to break it to you,” you reached past him and opened the door into your dressing room, “but we’ve got to hit the road.”

“But-“ He followed you in. Snagging your wrist, he pinned you to the inside of the door. “But I want to see this other side of you. I want to-“ he pressed his lips to your forehead, sliding your wrists over your head, “I want to explore your bad girl side.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’ll have to explore me later. We’ve got a bit of a drive, and then an early morning in just a few hours. Maybe tomorrow night?”

With a pout, he moved out of your space so you could change and toss the last of your things into your suitcase. On your way out, people kept stopping you to have you repeat bits of your promo. Will didn’t seem bothered by it. At least, not irked enough to tell people to buzz off. But he kept shifting his weight. Avoiding your gaze when you’d finish. His hand seemed twitchy when you took it. And he was limping.

“Are you okay?” You guided him and the luggage to one side so you could give him a once over out of the way of the pack-up crew. “Did you pull something in your match? Did the Doc look you over yet?”

He muttered short, flustered things to keep your hands off his ribs. But when he shifted his weight again, his grey sweatpants revealed the problem. “Really, it’s nothing. Nothing I can’t- can’t handle later.”

“Later? You can’t drive with… that.” You had to smile at his antics. It was sweet of him to not push his desire onto you when he was so obviously in need. You looked around. Until you spotted a doorknob. You dragged him towards it, gasping in delight when it turned under your grasp.

Will tried to resist. “But- you said- you said we have an early morning. And we- we could get locked in here.”

“Not the worst thing we’ve done. Besides, there’s always some of the guys that stay late. They’ll see our luggage and know we’re still nearby. Or they’ll call.” You held up your phone, activating the flashlight so that you had a little illumination. It was then that you could see how Will’s chest heaved. How his eyes drank you in. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it more than before. “I haven’t touched you yet, and you already look like I’ve ravaged you,” you whispered. It was supposed to come out as a laugh, but your own breath was short. And your heart pounded in your ears.

Outside, the packing-up of the show drifted away. At any moment, surely, your phone would start ringing.

“We-“ you licked your lips. “We don’t have much time.”

You tugged at Will’s sweats and brazenly pulled his length into the open. He groaned loudly, making you reach up to slap your other hand over his mouth. He laid his palm over your knuckles, reaching back with his other hand to steady himself against the wall.

The Heel rose up inside you.

“You gonna be quiet for me?” you whispered. Gently giving him a twist, you leaned in to lick at the underside of his jaw. Will’s eyes rolled back and he moaned again. “Gonna be good for me?”

He nodded frantically, thrusting into your grasp.

How many times had he taken you like this? In his dressing room or yours, or in some empty hallway. Shoving his hand down your pants to curl his fingers into your desperate slick while the other one kept you quiet. Now you know why he did it so frequently. It made your breath stutter to see him shake with need. To feel his length pulse in your hand. In the bare gleam of your phone, his eyes fluttered as your tugging and twisting quickened. You pressed your thighs together, rubbing them for a bit of friction that would never be enough. You didn’t care. Will’s grip tightened over your hand on his mouth. His nails bit into your skin.

“Getting close, pretty boy?”

A broken whimper was his reply.

You maneuvered your grip until you could press Will’s hand over his mouth. “Being so good for me. Letting me boss you around. Keep it up. Just a bit longer.” With that, you sank to your knees.

Your lips had barely wrapped around his length before he was throwing his head back. His release filled your mouth, spilling out and dripping onto your shirt. Doing his best to follow your order, he pressed his hand hard over the sounds that tried to escape as he rode out the high.

When he was spent, you tucked him back into his pants. And you tugged at the bottom of his sweatshirt till he let you steal it.

“I’ll change into another shirt when we get the bags to the car.”

His eyes were wild as he tried to catch his breath. Running your fingers over his cheeks and forehead, his flushed skin told you everything you’d ever need to know about whether to try this again or not.

“But-“ he gasped, swallowing hard, “but you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get mine later.” You let wickedness overtake the gleam in your eye. “Maybe I can put on a show for you?” He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the hall cupboard. The bags tipped over, rolling and sliding across the concrete until he had all of their straps and handles under control. “Well, come on, then. I can’t leave my bad girl waiting. And for the record,” he kissed you hard, pinning you against a trellis, “you can boss me around any time.”

***

Masterlist

Other hallway quickies:

Jealous - Smut with Elias

If We Get Caught - Smut with Jimmy Uso

Finish Me - Smut with MJF

Back Hallways - Smut with Roman Reigns

Our Princess - Bobby Fish x Reader x Kyle O’Reilly

#will ospreay #will ospreay x reader #will ospreay smut #aew smut #reader insert

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deepdisireslonging · 1 month

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Surrender

Pairing: Ricky Starks x Reader

Warnings/Promises: Angst, canon-level violence

Word Count: 850

Note: Doing a bit of a character study for a larger work thats about to come out. In the words of the Dread Pirate Roberts: "To the Pain" ->

The roar of the crowd echoed in your head like a pack of wolves baying for blood. Just feet from you, caged in by ring ropes and across a desert of canvas, the love of your life battled for you.

Already you could see the bruises forming on his skin. The bright welt across his chest from the slaps. The dark gelatinous forms around his ribs from punches and kicks. But what worried you the most was how Joe’s elbows were hungry to catch Ricky’s throat. If he did that, it would end the match.

Every so often, Joe glanced your way. The match progressed, and Ricky’s offense moved slower and slower. And Joe’s face slid with ease into a smug grin as the end glared inevitable.

“I need to ask you something.” You twisted the traitorous cloth around your fingers. Small enough to hide from Ricky on your way down to the match. Large enough to weigh like a boulder of guilt in your pocket. You swallowed as Britt waited for you to continue. “What do you do? When Adam is going to far; when you both know he won’t return to you in one piece?”

She tasted several answers on her tongue before answering. “You be there for him. Stand there. Watch the pain, feel it burn in your lungs. And you give it back to him as a strength that will motivate him either to the finish or the end. But my experiences… they’re not like what you’re going to have to endure. I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”

“That’s alright. Thank you.”

The ring shook as Ricky bounced off the ropes, hurtling towards his target. His eyes gleamed with focus and determination. Despite what advice Britt had given you, the cheers and praise you wanted to give him died on your lips. Mostly you could manage a smile when he looked your way. One that he would return. And then shift back to the matter at hand.

Still, your lungs quaked.

If he won: he was number one contender. If he tapped out: Joe was number one contender. And you would work for him instead. No pinfall. No count-outs. No disqualifications. Submission only.

You knew him. His match with Danielson was before you joined the roster as Ricky’s valet. And before the feelings developed. You hated how you longed for his touch after matches now. Wanting to feel and know that he was okay like you had never needed before. Ricky wouldn’t tap. He had passed out instead of tapping to Danielson’s brutal victory. The recovery period had, apparently, been more brutal than what the cameras revealed.

Would you be able to survive them with him?

Would the potential championship be worth it?

Then, your nightmare came to fruition.

Joe’s grip caught Ricky’s wrist. With a quick tug, your love was in his arms. Joe turned so you could see his face contort, so you could see him gasp for air. And behind him, like a grinning gargoyle ready to spill a waterfall of brimstone on your dreams, Joe watched you. He waited. Listened. Patiently paused his malice to see what you would do.

“Here.” Joe drifted out of the shadows and handed you a small square of white. “He’s going to need it.”

The fabric seemed to burn your hands. But Joe refused to take it back.

“We both know him. You better than most. He won’t tap. To keep you near he’d rather hold hot coals than let me borrow you.” He stepped near, trapping you against the wall. “I won’t need you long. I promise. Once the title’s mine, you can go back to him. But he’s in my way of getting my title back. If he wants to have a bit of a rematch after I hold gold, he’s welcome to it. Until then,” he nodded at the cloth, “think about it. And what’s best for him.”

Biting your bottom lip, you dragged the surrender out of your pocket.

Ricky’s eyes, already drooping shut from wont of oxygen, widened. He did his best to shake his head. Holding out his hand, he rasped, “reach for me.”

Your hand slid between the ropes. Though your fingertips would never be able to touch, maybe your closer proximity could help him find a way out?

The grip tightened around his throat, and Joe fell to one side. His leg pinned down Ricky’s flailing limbs.

You watched the glow fade from his eyes. His gaze, glazed and empty, never moved from where he knew you to be. But his lips were already taking on a purple hue.

Joe nodded at the square in your hands.

Against your will, it dragged your hand up to the bottom rope, draping the white fabric where everyone could see it.

“No! Y/N, I’ll-” Ricky coughed, forcing a smidgen of oxygen into his lungs. “I’ll be alright. Don’t.”

Without sound, you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N!”

Before you could think about it, your knees bit into the apron and you caught the attention of the referee. Eyes brimming with tears, you tossed in the towel, ending the match.

#ricky starks imagine #ricky starks x reader #ricky starks angst #reader insert #valet!reader #samoa joe #aew x reader #aew fanfiction #wrestling whump

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deepdisireslonging · 1 month

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Ditto for the ficlet coming out tomorrow...

Sorry, not sorry for the angsty Ricky Starks fic coming out this Friday...

#really enjoying writing this man in peril and pain #sorry ricky #ricky starks angst #reader insert

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deepdisireslonging · 1 month

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Not Your Fault

A Supernatural Story

~Something is in the air and your boss takes notice...~

Dean Smith x F!Reader

2,070 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Office Sex. Probably Illegal. All consensual.

Fics like this and so many more are available on my patreon!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

It wasn’t your fault, really.

Since you woke up that morning, you were wet; your panties worthlessly snuggled deep into your slit, blankets twisted around your legs. You need to be fucked, but no amount of self-pleasure made your predicament any better.

Late for work because the shower just felt too good, you tried to keep busy at your desk to make up for the lost time. Phones were ringing off the hook, emails were piling up, and your boss had two appointments that canceled on him, leaving him a little frazzled.

Despite the hectic day, you couldn’t help the arousal still throbbing inside of you. Your clit had a mind of its own, distracting you anytime you moved in your chair or walked to the copier. Even the tiniest brush of your skirt against your thighs made the wetness worse and by ten, you were sure there was a giant wet spot in your panties.

But it wasn’t your fault, not really.

There was just something in the air; maybe the moon was full. Whatever it was, you were totally distracted, totally mindlessly moving through the day with a deep ache between your legs.

Twice, you snuck away to the restroom to rub your pussy; your back against the cold wall, legs spread as wide as the stall would allow. Your bottom lip was dented by your teeth as you bit back moans of frustrated pleasure, trying to cum but failing each time.

It wasn’t your fault, not really.

One o’clock rolled by and most of the office had gone to lunch. You were about to go yourself, hoping to run home and sit on your vibrator for forty minutes or so when your boss called you into his office.

“Y/N? Got a second?”

Dean Smith sat behind his desk, green eyes glowing in the light from his laptop screen. He looked stressed, his tie loose around his neck, collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. It had been a difficult few weeks, you knew, and he was starting to show the signs.

“Mr. Smith?” You smiled in the doorway when he finally looked up to acknowledge you.

His eyes ran quickly down your body and you could feel your nipples harden beneath your blouse. “Come in,” he said, “shut the door.”

You obeyed, quietly shutting the door and taking a seat in the chair across from him. The glare from the computer made him look ghastly, but he clicked it off even as the thought crossed your mind.

“Is...everything ok, Mr. Smith?” you asked, your mind reeling with a thousand anxious thoughts. Had you done something wrong? Did you miss a deadline sending out the TSK Reports?

He smiled and you relaxed almost instantly. “Everything’s...fine,” he said; deep voice filling the room and your head. He was gorgeous, so well groomed and immaculately dressed; you wondered vaguely what he smelled like. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“To me?” Your cheeks warmed and you felt your nipples harden as he looked at you. Did he know how wet you were? How desperate to cum?

Mr. Smith stood up and slowly came around the desk, perching on the edge next to you. “I couldn’t help but notice how distracted you’ve been all day.” There was no annoyance in his voice, no accusation, he merely stated a fact.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, I-”

“Please,” he smiled, “Dean.”

Your heart was racing, his smile was too incredible. “Dean. I have been a little off today, I know, but I promise, I’m-”

He held up a hand, begging for your patience. “I think I know what’s been on your mind all day,” he said, leaning close to whisper in your ear. “It’s been on mine too.”

You sucked in a deep breath and his cologne hit you like a drug. It was heavy but sweet, spicy, and warm. It flowed through your system like wine and you bit your lip, trying not to moan. “And...what’s that?” you asked, trying to clear the desire from your head.

“Sex.”

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, breath fanning your cheek as he pulled back slowly. “I’ve been watching you all day. You’re practically begging for it. It’s seeping from your pores. I can smell how wet you are, how aroused…”

Swallowing hard, you dared yourself to meet his eye and not whimper. “This is extremely inappropriate.”

Dean sat back all the way and held up his hands in surrender. His palms were so wide, his fingers so long and thick, the very idea of them inside of you made your head spin. “My apologies. I’ve misread the situation.”

He went to stand, but something inside you took over. Grabbing his left hand, you pulled it to you and pressed it against your breast.

“You didn’t misread anything,” you whispered. His fingers contracted over you, squeezing your tit gently. You moaned and he pounced, falling to his knees as he kissed you hard, his hot tongue slipping between your lips. He tasted of coffee and wintergreen and his hands were strong. You leaned into him, scooting to the edge of your chair, your legs spreading wide to accommodate his broad frame.

“I knew it,” he growled, lips trailing down your throat, making you dizzy. “I saw you out there, staring at nothing, rocking in your seat… the way you kept sneaking away to the restroom all day… I knew it.” He sucked hard on your pulse and slipped his right hand between your thighs and up beneath your skirt, making you gasp. “Made me so hard I could barely keep working. Just been staring at you all day.”

“Fuck...” Your chest was heaving. “Been so wet all day and I just…” His fingers teased at your pussy, rubbing hard against your soaked panties. “I can’t… I can’t cum.”

Dean left your throat and sat back, grinning wildly at your confession. “I think I can help you out there,” he said, licking his plump lips.

The arousal was overwhelming and you simply nodded, dazed by his touch and the gleam in his emerald eyes. “Please.”

Two warm fingers hooked around the elastic of your panties and you lifted your hips, helping him pull them away.

“Fuck, look at this beautiful cunt.” Dean sucked on his bottom lip as he stared, his mouth watering as you squirmed.

“Please,” you begged, leaning back in the chair and pushing your hips towards him. “Please. I need it so bad.” You squirmed and he chuckled, amused by your neediness.

“You do, huh?” His eyes fluttered up to yours; so beautiful, so devious.

You nodded quickly. “Please, Mr. Smith. Help me cum…”

A smile tickled the corner of his mouth and then he was gone, diving down between your thighs and lapping at the dripping arousal that coated your pussy lips. He hummed happily as your sweetness hit his tongue and buried his face deep between your folds.

You clung to the chair, thankful for the upholstered arms, thanking God that you’d shut the door. His mouth felt like fire on your cunt; his tongue was so soft yet somehow rough at the same time. It felt like years since someone had tasted you properly, and your boss was making all the right moves, devouring you for lunch.

His coiffed hair crunched a bit beneath your fingers as you reached down to grab him, to hold him still while you rolled your hips against his perfect face. He sucked hard on your clit and let you ride him while he snuck to manicured fingers deep inside your cunt.

“Fuck!” The orgasm hit you like a truck, slamming into you before you could draw a preparatory breath. It rolled your eyes and curled your toes, forcing your body to clamp down on his hand as a fresh flood of juices ran down into your ass and all over his hand. “Fuck. Fuck...fuck.”

“Oh, she’s got a nasty mouth on her,” Dean laughed, sitting back with a proud grin. He licked his lips clear of your sheen but kept his fingers slowly pumping inside of you.

Dizzy and still desperate, you agreed, nodding at him with wide, empty eyes and a slack jaw. “Yeah, so nasty.”

“Well, let’s give that nasty mouth something to do.”

He stood quickly and opened his slacks, letting the fancy leather belt hang by his hips. He wore pale blue silk boxers and his cock pushed firmly against the seam, reaching for you all by itself.

“Yes, Mr. Smith,” you teased, coming back to yourself long enough to scoot forward and take hold of his thick cock.

He chewed his lip as you pressed your lips to the tip and then jerked his hips forward, forcing his cock down your throat. He was heavy on your tongue and you gagged around him, your mouth flooding with spit that dribbled down your chin when he pulled back out.

“Oh, you’re fucking perfect,” he praised, reaching down to bundle your hair into one fist, keeping it out of your face. “We should have done this a long time ago.”

You hummed around his shaft and hollowed your cheeks, wanting to taste as much of him as you could. The hand in your hair grew tighter and Dean rocked his hips into you, fucking your mouth with a quickening rhythm.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned. “Is that pussy as tight? I bet it is.”

Pulling back, you let him go with a tight, wet, pop of your lips. “Tighter.”

Dean growled and reached for you, his big hands stiff around your upper arms as he guided you upwards. He looked down at you with hunger in his eyes and spun with you, pushing you down onto his desk, your palms slapping hard against the mahogany top.

You moaned pitifully as your breasts crushed against the desk and spread your legs for him as he stepped up close. “Yes, please.”

“Oh, I like that,” he teased, gripping his cock and rubbing the swollen head against your slit. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Mr. Smith, please fuck me,” you whimpered. “Please, I need your cock so bad. Need to be fucked.”

He pushed inside with a grunt. “Yeah, you do, don’t you? The little office slut.”

“Yes!”

He filled you up perfectly, his thick cock swelling inside your cunt.

“Please…”

It was quick and rough. He slapped your ass as he fucked you into the desk, bruising your belly as he slammed into you again and again.

The big clock behind his desk ticked away the lunch hour and Dean used every last second to break you. Sounds of the office coming back to life permeated the seams of his door, but he paid them no mind, wrecking your cunt until you came again, pulsing hard on his cock. Breathless, you screamed into your forearm and bit down to keep quiet.

“Fuck, that’s it. Keep nice and quiet for me. Don’t want everyone to know what a slut you are.” He slammed into you once more. “Or do we?”

“Please!” Your pussy was aching, beyond sensitive as he kept going, deeper and deeper until you could do nothing else but cling to the desk and try to breathe.

Finally, Dean pulled out and slapped your ass. “Turn around.” He gripped his cock tight and you wobbled upwards, turning around to face him. “Down.” A hand on your shoulder urged you to your knees and you went willingly, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to receive his cum. “Such a good girl.”

He pumped his fist until he came, spilling hot ropes onto your lips that you sucked down happily. Dean slumped over you, bracing himself with his hands on his desk as you licked him clean, swallowing every delicious drop.

“Jesus Christ, you are amazing, you know that?”

With a final smack of your lips, you crawled away and stood up, quickly readjusting your clothing. You were a mess, but it would have to do; hopefully, you could sneak into the restroom to clean up before anyone noticed.

“Will that be all for now, Mr. Smith?” you asked, batting your eyes at him.

He turned and grabbed your arm, pulling you close. “For now,” he whispered before stealing one last kiss.

You were ten minutes late clocking back in, but it really, really was not your fault.

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05

#same #omg #dean winchester x reader #dean smith x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #winchester smut #writers reading writers

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

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AO3 now has a tag for AI works!!! That means you can filter it out!* To filter it from your account, and never see any of it again, follow these steps.

- First, log in to your AO3 account

- Click on this link or paste this in your browser bar

https://archiveofourown.org/skins/new?skin_type=Skin

- Set "Type" to "Site Skin"

- Set "Title" to whatever you want (Something like “No AI” so you'll know what Skin you just made)

- Then click into the large "CSS" box and paste all of the bolded text below - hit the "Submit" button

.blurb:has(a[href*="/tags/Created%20Using%20Generative%20AI/works" i]), .blurb:has(a[href*="/tags/AI-Generated%20Text/works" i]), .blurb:has(a[href*="/tags/AI%20Generated%20Text/works" i]), .blurb:has(a[href*="/tags/AI%20Generated%20Fic/works" i]), .blurb:has(a[href*="/tags/AI-Generated%20Images/works" i]) { display: none !important; }

- Hit "Use"

Presto!

No more AI fics or art in your results! (assuming everyone tagged properly and your browser has the flags enabled)

A blocklist to be used with the Permablocking Specific Tags - Site Skin tutorial by Eli0t

*browser dependent

#writers helping writers #anti ai #ao3 writer #will be doing this as soon as possible

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

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Oy. Hey! Don't - you can't do this to me

jason todd who’s a little religious and says he wants to wait for marriage to fill you full with his cock and cum. jason todd whose tongue is lapping at your entrance and his fingers are circling your clit, reminding you that the bible doesn’t say anything about the inability to do this.

#jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #writers reading writers

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

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Fanfiction and fanart are bonus content, brought directly to you without monetary motives. That is so rare nowadays. You can and should if you're able to support these creators with donations, kudos, comments and reblogs. But you're not obliged to. You can consume it for free, because people enjoy sharing their talents with you. Make them feel loved for their gifts for us.

#writers helping writers

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

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If I've been quiet lately, it's because I've actually been busy! I had an idea back in November of 2022, and I've been slowly working on it since. All while also finishing up my archaeology masters, lol. But I hope I can share this with you all soon! I've got the last chapter to finish, and then the overall rewrite. It's only about 11 chapters, but it still feels like my biggest project yet.

Keep an eye out for "Choices"

#hear from the writer #update #future series #coming soon #hopefully 🤞

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

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Eeeee! I'm so glad you liked it ❤️ You deserve it by just being you 😘

A Throne Fit for a Queen

The Reader escapes her own birthday with her lover to see what gift he’s hidden away for her. They put it to use, learning together only the beginning of its capabilities.

Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, sex chair, oral (female receiving), creampie, cw Food mention

Word Count: 2500

Note: Happy birthday to my writing bestie, @neversatisfiedgirl! This was going to be a quick smutty fluffy ficlet… and then I fell down a research hole. Happy reading!

It had been a well-meant gesture. Kenny had planned everything. Had been since the beginning of the year, seemingly more excited for your birthday than you or your own mother. We’re talking the venue, the cake, the pile of presents in one corner. And what felt like hundreds of your closest friends and family from across multiple wrestling companies. All gathered together for you. The extravagance awed you.

“I just completed another orbit around the sun. I’m not retiring,” you muttered under your breath. Still, a smile wasn’t far off as you watched the master of ceremonies pelt Damian with a series of streamers, hopelessly entangling his victim. You giggled behind your hand as Rhea tried to help him out.

Then warm hands slid around your middle. A lingering kiss nestled into the curve of your neck. When you hummed and leaned into the strong torso behind you, a growl answered.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“As if anyone else would dare to hold me like this.” You turned in his arms, draping your own across his shoulders to play with the short hairs at the base of his neck. “Finn, darling, what are you up to?”

He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t wish my best girl a happy birthday?”

“I suppose.” You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip. “Your best girl, huh? How many girls you got in reserve there, Cassanova?”

“Ha. Ha.” He gave your hips a squeeze. “Just one. Even if I tried to have other girls, they’d always be jealous about how much time and affection I lavish on you.”

“Good to hear.”

Finn smiled into the kiss you gave him, smirking when a few whistles and hoots tried to distract him. “Looks like this party’s in full swing. Would you like your present before Kenny pulls us back into the fray?”

You rolled your eyes. “You already gave me my presents. They were lovely. I really don’t need anything-“

“I know. But,” he bobbled his head with a sparkle in his eye, “I’ve got something else that I hope you can use year-round.”

Intriguing. All of his other presents had been wonderful. Just what you wished for. Apparently, he had been keeping a list whenever you mentioned needing or wanting something, and taking note of things you let linger through your hands while out shopping. You wondered what this one could be, and when you had wished for it. “What is it?”

“Do. You. Want. Your. Present?”

With a big sigh, you dragged out your answer, “yes.”

Off to one side, a flash of red hair darted behind Kevin Owens. A slice of cake splattered all over his face a second later. You’d have to find out later if it was Becky or Sami from one of the closer witnesses. If anyone hazarded to squeal. Finn used the distraction to his advantage. He took hold of your wrist, deftly dragging you through the crowd of laughing and partying guests, until you made the escape to a back hallway. Like a child about to get into infinite trouble, he looked both ways before crashing through a door with you.

The lighting was dim. But candles flickered all around the small space that was probably nothing more than a large closet.

“How-“

Finn cut off your question with a smoldering kiss that made your knees wobble. “Kenny asked me for tips about celebrating you, of course. Originally planned today as a surprise party-“

“Oh, dear-“

“Exactly. But I talked him out of it. And set up my own party space while he was directing everyone else.” His hands lingered up your sides, leaving tingling, hot trails in their wake. You whimpered into his mouth as his touch toyed with the flowy hem of your party dress. “Liking everything so far?”

“Mhmm.” You caught his bottom of lip between your teeth, sucking on it till he pulled himself away to bury his face in your cleavage. “So… I get to use you year-round?”

“Mhmm.”

Then you caught sight of what was in the center of the room. You had wondered if a “pinned-to-the-wall” quickie was the present. Not that it was a bad thing, but not usually Finn’s detailed style. But the centerpiece, that made a lot more sense. How in the world had he gotten that thing in here without anyone noticing?

Finn felt your breath stutter under his ministrations. He followed your gaze. “Oh, yes. That. You are always welcome to use me all year, but I figured maybe you could use and be used on something ornate enough to enthrone my Queen.”

It was a King Edward chair. You knew the one. Designed for the “playboy prince” of the Victorian era. Scholars still didn’t know all the positions that could be accomplished on it. Now that you had your own, and a willing partner to experiment with, maybe you could find out. Already your imagination was swirling with the possibilities. How Finn could take you with you spread across it. Or vise versa. Whereas the original was in white and gold with floral cushions, this one was black and silver with red cushions. The perfect private throne for a Demon King or his Queen.

But Finn wasn’t letting you move. He sank to his knees, pinning you against the door by your hips while his head disappeared under your dress. You covered your mouth as his nose pressed into the front of your sensible undergarments. He nipped your inner thigh for it.

“Everyone’s at the party. No one around to hear you.” With a chuckle, he peeked out from under the fabric. “Unless we really get into it.” From one kneecap to the next, he placed a gentle kiss on your skin. “Don’t hold back, m'aingeal. It’s your day and I want you to feel everything.”

You nodded, letting your hand drop to his hair. With the other, you held back your skirt to watch what he was doing to you. With a pleased hum, he again pressed his nose into your sex, nudging about before catching the fabric waistband with his teeth. His nails and teeth lightly scraped against your skin as he desperately worked to bare you to him. The sight of your slick made him ferocious. He hiked one of your legs over his shoulder. Then, he really began to work. Tongue and fingers. Humming and sucking. You leaned your head back against the door, panting and doing your best not to thrust into his face.

All the while, you could see the chair. A pleasurable threat. A dangerous promise.

“Getting close, féileacán?”

You were. But all you could do was moan an affirmation. Your release was approaching. Fluttering nearer with each curl of his fingers, or jolting you with a nip to your thigh.

He added another digit to the ones already stretching you out. Then, when his mouth enveloped you, you fell apart. Your fingers shakily dug into his scalp, making him groan and prolong your pleasure with the vibrations. Those vibrations told hold of your whole body. Your lungs quaked in their cage next to your frantically beating heart, aiding the spotting of your vision. Your other hand dropped your skirt, reaching above you to claw against the door. You were aware of his movements to bring you down slowly, and to bring himself back into the flickering light. But mostly you were trying to remember how to breathe.

Then he was kissing at the underside of your jaw. He smeared your skin with the essence he had just drawn from you.

“We-“ you licked your lips, “we need to go back-“

“Do you really think I was going to show you your present… and then not use it with you at least till one orgasm? Oh, leanbh,” he tugged on your waist, “we’re just getting started.”

That promise dragged a whimper from your soul.

But once you stood in front of the chair, you had to wonder: how were you supposed to… mount this thing? Tilting your head, you considered a few ways. Maybe if you climbed up on it first, you could rotate to lay on your back?

You had just leaned over it to do just that when Finn flicked up the back of your skirt and began to knead the globes of your seat.

“Forget that iced monstrosity out there,” he gave your ass a slap, “I’ve got the sweetest treat right here.”

Another few slaps helped you up, where you could turn to lay on your back. The foot rests (stirrups?) did help you keep your position instead of sliding off. But they also arched your legs *way* open. Finn’s brilliant blue eyes were enraptured by the sight. Unblinking, he ran his hands up and down your thighs. Like a moth to a flame, he drew closer until the bulge trapped in his jeans was close enough for your sex to feel the heat. He took hold of the grips standing up next to your ribs. His knuckles turned white, the only evidence how much this man was holding back from blowing his load from the view alone.

You sat up. And reached for his front button. His hands met yours there. Together, you raced to release his cock into the open. When it finally sprung free, he gave a gasp of relief. The eagerness of it, warm and stiff in your hand, made your mouth water. But leaned over you, making sure to place your hands on the grips firmly enough to tell you that you needed to hang on.

Murmuring filthy Irish curses under his breath, he toyed with you further by sliding his cock through your slick. The head bumped your clit from time to time, making you whine.

“Please. Don’t make me wait.”

“Of course not, Love. I just- hmm. I can’t get enough of you being so wet for me. So ready. Making those sounds of yours. Calling out for me like you do when you beg. But you’re right. I can’t make the birthday girl wait.”

Inch by glorious inch, he filled you. You fully leaned back into the chair, hanging onto the grips for dear life. When he was fully seated within you, and panting with the feel of you around his length, his own hands joined yours on the grips. Thankfully, he started slow. You would have flown apart instantly at that angle if he’d pounded into you immediate like he wanted to. Faintly you could hear the music of the party still going on beyond the walls. But soon, all you could focus on hearing was the slapping of Finn’s hips colliding with yours. His grunts and gasps as he speared deeper and deeper. Your own cries and jumbled words as you pleaded with him to move one way or the other. And the creaking of the chair. The faster he went, the more his hands slid down the grips until they rested over yours. That slightest contact of skin dazzled you.

“Please, please, please-“

Whatever you were begging for, Finn answered in full force. It didn’t take long, despite feeling like you’d been dangling on the edge of a precipice for an eternity, before Finn’s thrusts stuttered. He reached for your clit, thumbing over it until you were weeping his name. He watched, enraptured, as you came apart. Chest heaving. Hair plastered around your forehead. And he watched your lips murmuring like he was waiting.

Your grip on the bars faltered as he kept moving, chasing his own release. “Come on, mo rí diabhal. Fill me, possess me, like only you can-“

With a roar, he did just that. He pumped all he had to give into you. When he was finally spent, he fell over you, his head resting on your breasts.

Again, the distant drifting of the party sounds found you. And, despite the incredible desire to stay just where you were, curling your fingers into his hair, you eventually made the first move to leave. He groaned, irritated when he had to pull himself out of you. He fixed his pants, but stood in the way of your dismount. You cradled his head to your shoulder, wondering if he could still smell the post-orgasmic kiss he gave you earlier.

“We need to go back.”

“Yeah.”

“We smell like sex.” You shot him a playful frown when he seemed unperturbed. “What are going to tell people when they ask where we’ve been?”

“The truth.” He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I had to give the birthday girl her present.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Oh? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And if they ask what the present was?” You gripped his wrist, but he refused to budge.

“We’ll tell them, ‘what do you think’ and leave it at that.” He quickly kissed you before letting you go. “You don’t think I’d tell them about our new toy, did you?” He helped you off the chair and back into your panties, not missing an opportunity to feel you up again. “I would never. It’s our secret. Though we’ve got to end this shindig quick. I’m not through with you.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to wonder who the present was actually for. “No?”

“Not in the slightest. And it’s portable. I’m thinking about attaching wheels to the bottom so we can move it around.”

You startled. Then grinned. “It might look a little odd… rolling this thing around the airport.” You giggled when his surprised face matched yours at what he had insinuated.

“I was thinking-“ his voice cracked. After clearing his throat he tried again, “I was thinking about moving it to different rooms in the house.” He stepped close, once again pinning you to the door so he could whisper in your ear. “Perhaps tie you down to it. Cover those pretty eyes of yours so you’re disorientated. Only able to think about what I’ll do to you.” He snickered and stepped back. “But I like the way you think. Maybe I can borrow someone’s jet sometime and really take you higher than the mile-high club. Remember that flight to Toronto?”

Your pussy threatened to gush again with the memory. “Maybe.”

A wicked gleam filled his gaze. “Then let’s finish up this party quick so I can get you home.”

___

Masterlist

Wrestling Masterlist

Other Finn Fics:

Fright Club (Fluff)

The Forbidden Door (Stripper!Balor, Smut)

Dangerous (Smut) [Prince Devitt]

#Happy Birthday Ree!#finn balor x reader #finn balor smut #morning reblog

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

Text

A Throne Fit for a Queen

The Reader escapes her own birthday with her lover to see what gift he’s hidden away for her. They put it to use, learning together only the beginning of its capabilities.

Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, sex chair, oral (female receiving), creampie, cw Food mention

Word Count: 2500

Note: Happy birthday to my writing bestie, @neversatisfiedgirl! This was going to be a quick smutty fluffy ficlet… and then I fell down a research hole. Happy reading!

Then warm hands slid around your middle. A lingering kiss nestled into the curve of your neck. When you hummed and leaned into the strong torso behind you, a growl answered.

“How’d you know it was me?”

He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t wish my best girl a happy birthday?”

“I suppose.” You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip. “Your best girl, huh? How many girls you got in reserve there, Cassanova?”

“Ha. Ha.” He gave your hips a squeeze. “Just one. Even if I tried to have other girls, they’d always be jealous about how much time and affection I lavish on you.”

“Good to hear.”

You rolled your eyes. “You already gave me my presents. They were lovely. I really don’t need anything-“

“I know. But,” he bobbled his head with a sparkle in his eye, “I’ve got something else that I hope you can use year-round.”

“Do. You. Want. Your. Present?”

With a big sigh, you dragged out your answer, “yes.”

The lighting was dim. But candles flickered all around the small space that was probably nothing more than a large closet.

“How-“

Finn cut off your question with a smoldering kiss that made your knees wobble. “Kenny asked me for tips about celebrating you, of course. Originally planned today as a surprise party-“

“Oh, dear-“

“Mhmm.” You caught his bottom of lip between your teeth, sucking on it till he pulled himself away to bury his face in your cleavage. “So… I get to use you year-round?”

“Mhmm.”

All the while, you could see the chair. A pleasurable threat. A dangerous promise.

“Getting close, féileacán?”

You were. But all you could do was moan an affirmation. Your release was approaching. Fluttering nearer with each curl of his fingers, or jolting you with a nip to your thigh.

Then he was kissing at the underside of your jaw. He smeared your skin with the essence he had just drawn from you.

“We-“ you licked your lips, “we need to go back-“

“Do you really think I was going to show you your present… and then not use it with you at least till one orgasm? Oh, leanbh,” he tugged on your waist, “we’re just getting started.”

That promise dragged a whimper from your soul.

You had just leaned over it to do just that when Finn flicked up the back of your skirt and began to knead the globes of your seat.

“Forget that iced monstrosity out there,” he gave your ass a slap, “I’ve got the sweetest treat right here.”

Murmuring filthy Irish curses under his breath, he toyed with you further by sliding his cock through your slick. The head bumped your clit from time to time, making you whine.

“Please. Don’t make me wait.”

“Please, please, please-“

Your grip on the bars faltered as he kept moving, chasing his own release. “Come on, mo rí diabhal. Fill me, possess me, like only you can-“

With a roar, he did just that. He pumped all he had to give into you. When he was finally spent, he fell over you, his head resting on your breasts.

“We need to go back.”

“Yeah.”

“We smell like sex.” You shot him a playful frown when he seemed unperturbed. “What are going to tell people when they ask where we’ve been?”

“The truth.” He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I had to give the birthday girl her present.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Oh? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And if they ask what the present was?” You gripped his wrist, but he refused to budge.

You rolled your eyes, starting to wonder who the present was actually for. “No?”

“Not in the slightest. And it’s portable. I’m thinking about attaching wheels to the bottom so we can move it around.”

You startled. Then grinned. “It might look a little odd… rolling this thing around the airport.” You giggled when his surprised face matched yours at what he had insinuated.

Your pussy threatened to gush again with the memory. “Maybe.”

A wicked gleam filled his gaze. “Then let’s finish up this party quick so I can get you home.”

___

Masterlist

Wrestling Masterlist

Other Finn Fics:

Fright Club (Fluff)

The Forbidden Door (Stripper!Balor, Smut)

Dangerous (Smut) [Prince Devitt]

#Happy Birthday Ree!#reader insert #wwe x reader #wwe smut #finn balor x reader #finn balor smut #finn balor fluff #writers writing for writers #had to use that gif since I know it's a favorite of yours #lol

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