#Finn balor story

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader was in a toxic relationship and Damian helps her with the trauma from the past?!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️ mention of past abusive relationship, damian being a softie , mention of verbal abuse and violence

behind closed doors

you’ve been in love before but you had no idea how it feels being loved.

you were in a happy relationship, or so you thought. but happy relationships aren’t made of lies, cheating, violence and hate.

you didn’t know what made him change his behaviour towards you. during the first months of relationship he was kind and loving, and suddenly he changed.

he blamed it on you being away for too long, he didn’t like that. he knew that you were doing an important job, working for wwe meant investing most of your time in your job but it was all you dreamed of.

you graduate in journalism just for that main reason and when you were offered the position of hosting some wwe programs after the main events you couldn’t say no.

you made so many friends that in all reality, were like a family to you.

but your ex didn’t like that, so he made you quit. when your colleagues noticed your sudden behaviour change, they started asking questions you didn’t want to answer. when they saw how you changed your wardrobe, they started investigating in your private life a little more and you hated that, and an escalated fight with your ex made you quit your dream job.

all because of him.

“let me know when you’ll stop whoring around” he said, with such a low voice that made you shiver.

“i’m not…”

“you’re not?” he laughed “yes you are!” he raised his voice at you, again “i see the shows you are hosting, i see all the wrestlers flirting with you and you, like the good whore you are, doing nothing to stop them!”

“it’s part of the job, i’m not flirting with anyone!” that was your first mistake, raising your voice back at him.

“so you’re saying i’m a liar” he went, gaslighting you.

“no - no, i’m not saying that…” your voice smaller “i’m just saying i’m doing my job, i’m a journalist and that’s what i’m doing…”

“now, hear me very well, you’re quitting that job and you’ll stay here at home, waiting for me when i come back from work, like the good wife you’re going to be one day” he smiled at you, making you shiver again.

“i’m not quitting my dream job!” you screamed back and before you could move, slap. a loud and strong slap to your face.

“scream at me again bitch! you’ll be six feet under ground next time” he screamed, before leaving the room and leaving you standing there, frozen on your spot.

so you did what he threatened you to do. you quit your job. without giving explanations.

all of your friends texted you, tried to reach you in some way but you never answered back.

he was controlling your phone, who you called, who you texted, what you posted on your socials. he became too invasive that at some point, you weren’t allowed outside without him.

rhea and damian, your best friends became worried about you, especially when they didn’t see you at the airport when you were all supposed to leave together for the european tour.

“what you mean she quit?” rhea asked jey.

“i don’t know man, she did. no one told me anything else. she simply quit without giving any explanation man…i’m worried for her, she wasn’t the same person anymore” jey said, making feel damian more insecure.

damian had a crush on you. he did from the first day he saw you, and he was heartbroken when he found out you had a boyfriend. but he didn’t want to ruin your relationship so he was okay with just being friend with you.

he was the first person to notice about your sudden change. the dress you wore were more covering - not that he minded what you were wearing, but he loved your coloured and crazy style that he was kinda shocked to see you wearing black long sleeve dresses everyday. he noticed the way you talked less and smiled less, he noticed how you stopped going to the gym with rhea, he noticed that you would eat less and less and alone.

he knew something was up, he just didn’t know what.

and now, the news that you quit.

he knew he had to reach out to you once he came back from the tour, even if it meant breaking your house down.

two weeks into the european tour and he finally was coming back home with all the crew. while being away he tried to call you many times but he was always sent to voicemail.

“i can’t do this anymore…something’s wrong, i can feel it” damian said to rhea once he was driving back to his home.

“you wanna go check on her?”

“not now…she’s probably asleep. i’m going tomorrow, when she’s home alone…” he said, gripping stronger at the wheel.

rhea just nodded, knowing that talking about you was hurtful for damian.

and so the first thing damian did was to wait until you were home alone. when he saw your boyfriend leaving was the moment he stepped out of his car and knocked on your front door.

his heart broke when he saw your face.

you had a purple bruise covering half of your left cheek and your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to do.

“y/n…” he sadly smiled at you.

“dam - damian, what are you doing here?”

“i wanted to check on you…” he said and you softly smiled, letting him inside the house.

“i’m good damian, how are you by the way?” you tried to avoid the conversation that was coming.

“you’re not good y/n…what happened to your cheek?” he asked, a little too worried.

“oh i fell” you said causally but damian wasn’t having any of it.

“definitely not a bruise from a fall…y/n, can you please look at me?” he asked you softly stepping in front of you.

tears were already forming in your eyes.

“did he do this?” was all he asked before your eyes betrayed you and you let those tears fall “oh sweetie…” he whispered before wrapping his muscular arms around you.

it’s been a long time since someone hugged you like that and you didn’t want to let go. you felt safe in his arms but you knew it was coming to an end.

“is he the reason you quit your job?” he asked and you nodded, too scared to speak “look at me love…” he softly smiled, gently wiping your tears away “you’re coming with me…i’m not letting you stay here okay?”

“i-i can’t damian…”

“yes you can love, i’m not letting you stay here with that dick…he doesn’t fucking deserve you, not after this, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize what was going on before…”

“its not your fault dam” you said.

“so…are you coming with me?” he asked, hopeful.

“o-okay…”

“i’ll help you pack love…you’re staying with me for all the time you need okay?” he gently asked you and you nodded.

when your boyfriend came back home and saw that all of your clothes were missing, he went crazy. he knew he would have happened sometimes but he never thought that you would actually leave him.

he tried to call you and text you but you blocked his number. damian even turned your phone off so you could focus on your self a little more.

damian was so kind and patient with you. he firstly offered you his own bedroom but you couldn’t accept it, so he gave up and gave you the guest bedroom. the first few nights were completely nightmares, you couldn’t fall asleep and every time you did, you would wake up with a scream. but damian was always there for you, he helped you calm down after a bad dream, he held you if you wanted him to do so, he wiped your tears away everytime you woke up crying.

he was always there for you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

of course - if damian knew, rhea knew. you wanted to keep it a secret, the whole “violent boyfriend thing” - you didn’t want people to know about it.

eventually hunter found out and he was more than happy to give you your job back. he even suggested that you would be accompanied by guards from home to work and viceversa.

but somehow your ex found out too. he saw you were back working on tv, he saw you were enjoying more time with your friends again and he couldn’t accept it, so, after a failed attempt of breaking into damian’s home, you had to ask for a restraining order.

damian was always by your side, trying to give you your own space but keeping an eye on you.

you’ve spent two months now with him, and, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself you were falling for him, more and more every day. you weren’t used to be treated with such love and care, and all damian did was natural for him.

but even if you were feeling better the nightmares never stopped.

“no, please don’t” you screamed but your boyfriend was just staring at you with a mischievous smile.

“don’t what uh?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“don’t hurt me please, i-i will do anything you want to but please…don’t hurt me again…” but no matter how you begged, he wasn’t listening and so his strong hand met your face once again.

you woke up with a loud scream and damian, being only two doors away from you, came running to your bedroom.

you were heavily breathing and your eyes were full of tears.

“hey hey it’s okay…” he whispered gently sitting next to you.

you involuntarily flinched when you heard him talking.

“it’s me amor…it’s me, it’s damian…” he softly talked to you “breath with me…let’s breath together okay?” and you did as he told you.

his hand softly reached your face and wiped away your tears. you melted into his touch and he felt that. he wanted to scream how much he loved you but he didn’t want to scare you away.

“i’m sorry for waking you up…go back to sleep” you apologised.

“i’m not leaving you here…don’t apologise for this”

“i don’t want to keep being a burden for you and-…”

“stop it right there…hermosa, you are not a burden for me, you’ll never be a burden for me, you’re…i care for you, so much…i-i” he wanted to say he loved you but couldn’t “you will never be alone okay? i’ll be here for all the time you need me to”

“can you please stay here with me until i fall asleep?” you shyly asked him, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

“absolutely love…come here” he laid down and let you lay in his arms, the place where you felt more protected.

“thank you damian…i mean it”

“there’s nothing to thank me for…”

“damian…”

“yes?”

“i care for you too…maybe more than a friend should” you confessed “but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just wanted to let you know, nothing would change our friendship”

“i want to change our friendship though…i wish we could be more than friends” he confessed too, making your heart skip a beat.

“what?”

“you heard me right y/n…i like you, a lot. i’ve always liked you but i didn’t want to interfere with your relationship, if i only knew what was really going on behind closed doors…i won’t rush you to do anything…we’re going slow if you want to…”

“i want to damian, i want to have a relationship with you i just” you were scared honestly “i’ve never been loved before, i don’t know how to love again…”

“it’s okay y/n…it’s okay…we’ll take things slow love”

“thank you damian…” you thanked him “but…i would really like to kiss you now…”

“we can do that” he smirked making you smile. his soft hand caressing the cheek where once there was a huge bruise, he leaned over you and captured your lips over his big ones. the kiss was soft, full of warmth and love that a tear of happiness fell from your eyes.

he smiled into the kiss, making you smile too.

“i liked that…” you confessed making him chuckle.

“good night hermosa…sleep well” he said when he saw you yawning.

his hand scratched your head, making you fall asleep faster than ever, his arms around you making you feel safe.

[dynamitekansai]

Via Jey Uso's Instagram Stories

[sistertonin]

finndamian is just a pretty ass couple

[ms-wwe]

I'm Backkk!!!

Remember me? Maybe! It's been many of years since my presence has graced this app! I used to go by Tired-Fangirl-Writings and I created the beautiful fanfic that was "Lust For Life" (Finn Bálor x OC) and made countless viral wrestling memes on here, you may have even followed me on here or my old wattpad!!

Well, I'm happy to say I am BACK and cannot wait to write again!! When I wrote LFL I was a freshly 18 year old, now as an adult, I feel I can up the all over feeling of these fanfics and imagines I used to spend months sometimes years creating!!

So, with that being said, I'll be resharing my OG viral fanfic Lust For Life AND announcing an all new fic about none other than the Puerto Rican Papi himself, Damian Priest! (With a MAJOR TWIST. Promise you've never seen anything like this one before)

So... stay tuned and please, I beg you all, send me all the fanfic and imagine ideas!

Little about my fics:

• I will write any and all. Fluff, smut, angst, all of it.

• Any wrestler suggestions are welcome! Male, female, I don't care

• I do both short imagines as well as book length fanfics that I will share on wattpad in chapter form!

And with all of this nonsense, and last but not least, a very Happy Birthday to Damian

[cryptidwrestling]

Genuinely just had to take a few laps around my room I'm so fucking frustrated 😭

[mxmoth]

THE JUDGMENT DAY on WWE RAW | 8-19-24

[clericofinfamy]

damian priest - raw, 1st april 2024.

worried about how judgement day will be after wrestlemania… anything could happen x_x let’s hope they all retain <3

[vampygomez]

Saw on my TikTok fyp and loved it. So wanted to share it with y’all. Owner/editors TikTok name is on the video.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Could you do more with platonic judgement day? Where reader has problems at a nightclub?

the judgment day x reader (platonic)

let’s pretend they won at wargames okay? :)))

‼️mention of harassment, non consensual touching and panic attack, read at your discretion

in the club

it was currently midnight when rhea decided you all needed to go out and celebrate the boys victory at wargames. she opted for a nice and calm bar, knowing how being in clubs made you uncomfortable but jd and dom were in the mood to celebrate so they took the lead and dragged you all in some kind of cheap club in downtown chicago.

the music was so loud that you could barely hear what damian was talking about. you were clearly uncomfortable and finn noticed that too but it has been an amazing night for you and the team and you didn’t want to ruin everything because of your paranoia.

so you offered the first round of drinks, to lighten up the mood a little.

dom and jd offered the second and the third round, and after three drinks you were a little tipsy that you started talking shit with damian and the girls sat next to your table.

rhea saw that in the end you were a little calmer so she joined dom and damian on the dance floor, dancing to music that neither rhea or dam would have listened if they were sober enough. you laughed watching them, seeing how goofy they were.

you decided to go on the rooftop of the club for a little fresh air, telling finn that you would be back in a couple of minutes.

he knew you weren’t a fan of nightclubs too so he insisted to go with you but you saw how flirty he was being with the girls sat beside you and you didn’t want to ruin his night for your little problem.

so you ended up on the rooftop all alone - well, not exactly alone, as it was full of people but you were enjoying the fresh air and the lights of downtown chicago. you were minding your own business when suddenly a man came behind you, touching your shoulders.

“nice, isn’t it?” he asked, referring to the view. he was probably in his fifty so you had no idea why he was flirting with a teenage girl.

“sure…” you whispered, moving his hand away from your shoulders.

“don’t be like that…” he moved you closer to his body “we just started having fun” he whispered into your ear. his breath smelled like a mix of cigarettes and cheap beer and it was making you nauseous.

you were a wrestler so why couldn’t you move?

you faced bigger people than he was but something was making you paralysed. it was the idea of not knowing what was coming next, the fact that you had no idea what this man wanted from you and the fact that your body was betraying you. your mind screamed “move, don’t touch me or i’ll make you regret it” but your body couldn’t move.

tears started forming in your eyes.

where was rhea when you needed her? where was damian or finn, or dominik too, hell, even jd, you needed someone you could trust but no one was near you to help you out of that situation.

“i should go and find my friends…” you said trying to move out of his arms. too many people were filling the rooftops and you knew they were too high or too drunk to help you out.

“i could show you a real nice place if you come with me” he whispered in your ear making you nauseous once again.

“no, just let me go…”

“don’t be a bitch and show me some respect” he squeezed your shoulders a little harder while his other hand went to cup your ass “the things i would do to you…” he said before squeezing your ass.

you didn’t care if you were crying now, you just wanted to disappear.

thankfully, damian decided to go check up on you when finn told him you were alone on the rooftop. he thought he would see you sitting on a bench or talking with some people, he didn’t expect to see you trying to get free from a stranger’s hands.

“let me go please…” you whispered to him, hoping that he would let you go but his hands moved from your ass to your breast.

“why don’t you come home with me? i could rip this dress off and do whatever i want and if you told it, nobody would believe you…” he threatened making you shake.

you were about to scream, not caring if you gave a scene to the crowd, when suddenly you felt the man being dragged away from you.

you heard a familiar voice in background but you were too focused on your breathing that you didn’t even know what was happening.

your head was spinning and your hands were shaking.

suddenly you felt a pair of hands circling your waist, you were about to scream when damian spoke softly into your ear.

“it’s me hermosa…it’s me, it’s all over, you’re okay” he whispered and when you heard his voice you immediately relaxed into his touch, hugging him back “let’s get you out of here…” he said and you nodded.

he took you downstairs, he helped you sitting back at the table and he gave you a glass of water to drink. rhea was talking to dominik when she saw your state.

“what the fuck happened?” she whispered asking to dominik, who had no clue of what was going on too.

they both approached your table and rhea’s heart broke when she saw you shaking, covered in damian’s leather jacket, your make up all ruined and your eyes still teary.

“gorgeous what happened?” she gently asked you.

“a fucking old man touched her” damian came behind rhea, sitting next to you and holding you in his arms.

rhea was fuming over priest words.

“are you okay?” dominik asked you and you slowly turned your head into a no. you weren’t okay, you were far from okay. you just been harassed by some crazy man and you didn’t even want to think about what could go wrong if damian wasn’t there.

“she’s a little shocked…” damian whispered when he saw finn and jd approaching you too. damian explained what happened to the rest of the team and finn was beyond pissed.

“you’re okay…” rhea whispered hugging you, letting you cry into her arms.

“i should have fought back…” you started blaming yourself but finn stopped you.

“it wasn’t your fault…it wasn’t your fault, listen to me, it was never your fault” finn told you.

“but…”

“no buts hermosa, finn is right” damian said sitting next to you and holding your hands “i’m so glad nothing worse happened…”

“thank you for being there damian…” you thanked him “can we please go back to the hotel?”

“absolutely…but you’re staying in my room tonight, i don’t want you to be alone gorgeous” rhea said and you nodded.

you were grateful to have found a team were you felt safe and protected.

[dynamitekansai]

Via Jey Uso's Instagram Stories

[deansambrcse]

omg i didn’t notice the ‘seven’ on finn’s shoulder wowwww

[rootedinrevisions]

Too Late: Part 2

SUMMARY: After leaving, you've put some distance between you and Tyler. And Tyler has to come to terms with you being gone. But he can't let you go, and comes up with a plan to try and when you back - or at least figure out what to say to you. That is until an unexpected accident throws a wrench in both of your plans. Tyler is determined to show you that he can be there for you when you need him to, but the emotions of being around him again start to rise inside you. Memories of what you once had - and what you lost - keep pulling at you. Especially when Tyler doesn't let the space between you stop him from quietly being there when you need him most.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support on Part 1 of this! I was definitely not expecting this story to take off and get the reactions it did! Thank you for the comments, reblogs, and likes! This story ended up being way longer than I planned on it being and there will be a PART 3 coming soon (probably sometime next week after the holidays so I can finish up the last few holiday fics I'm working on)

WARNINGS: None, just a lot of heart-shattering angst. This one made me cry while writing it, so be prepared!

WORD COUNT: 6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

TYLER’S P.O.V.

Tyler stood on the front porch of his old farmhouse, staring out at the horizon as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the tree line. The weight of the conversation he was preparing for sat heavy in his chest. His truck keys dangled from his fingers, his grip tightening and loosening as doubt gnawed at the edges of his determination. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you–only that he needed to say something. He couldn’t let things end the way they had, not without trying to make it right. He had so many things he still needed to say to you.

But the weight of your words, the hurt in your eyes the last time you’d spoken, kept playing on a loop in his head. Then the doubts crept in. What if he’d already blown it? What if showing up just made everything worse? 

But then he thought, what if it helped? What if it fixed everything? What if you gave him a chance?

With a final sigh, he pushed off the railing and headed for his truck. He figured you were probably at your mom’s house which wasn’t too far of a drive from his place. He pulled open the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel. 

He had just turned the engine over when his phone buzzed in the cup holder. He glanced down and saw your best friend’s name flashing across the screen. His stomach dropped. Why would she be calling? Was it to chew him out for breaking your heart? He wouldn’t blame her if it was. Tyler hesitated, his hand hovering over the phone. He almost let it go to voicemail, but then a pang of guilt hit him. He deserved whatever lecture your friend was about to give, so he swiped to answer.

“Look,” he said, bracing himself. “I know what you’re going to say, and-”

“Tyler.” Your friend interrupted, her voice sharp but trembling slightly. His brow furrowed at the crack in her tone. “Something’s happened.”

The world seemed to tilt under his feet, Tyler clutched the steering wheel as your friend’s words came out in a rush. “It’s her mom. There was a car accident. Her mom’s in surgery right now. She…she’s at the hospital by herself, and-”

“Wait,” Tyler cut in, his voice hardening as he processed her words. “Surgery? Is…is her mom gonna be okay?”

“They don’t know yet,” your friend admitted, her voice quieter now. “Tyler, I don’t know. It…it sounds bad. And she’s…she’s trying to be strong, but you know how she gets. She’s telling us all that she’s fine, but I don’t think she is.”

Tyler stayed silent, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His pulse pounded in his ears as the reality of the situation hit him. Your mom was in the hospital. You were alone. And here he was, debating whether or not he should show up.

“I think you should go.” Your friend said.

“I don’t think I’m the guy she wants to see right now,” he admitted, his voice low.

Your friend huffed, frustration creeping into her tone. “You’re exactly the guy she needs right now. Whether she realizes it or not.”

“She told me-”

“I know what she told you, Tyler.” Your friend snapped, cutting him off. “Trust me. I was there the night of her birthday when you weren’t. I know. But I also know she’s hurt and scared and stubborn as hell, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you. She won’t say it, but I will…get over yourself and get to the hospital. She shouldn’t be alone right now, and you know it.”

Tyler’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t respond right away, his mind spinning with doubts and what ifs. What if showing up made things worse? What if you pushed him away again?

“Tyler.” Your friend said softly, her tone shifting. “You love her, don’t you?”

The question hit him square in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Of course I do,” he murmured.

“Then prove it,” she said simply. “Be there for her.”

Your friend hung up after that, but her words lingered in his mind. Tyler sat frozen for a moment, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He could still hear your voice from the last time you’d spoken, the way it had cracked with anger and pain. The fear of making things worse clawed at him, but your friend’s voice echoed louder: Be there for her.

Tyler put the truck in drive and started making his way towards the hospital. Screw his doubts. This wasn’t about him. It was about you. And if there was even a chance you needed him, he wasn’t going to let you down again.

YOUR P.O.V.

The waiting room was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional voice paging a doctor over the intercom. You sat in the corner, hunched over with your elbows on your knees, your hands clasped tightly together. The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but you hardly noticed. Your foot tapped a restless rhythm against the tiled floor, the nervous energy pulsing through you too much to contain.

You’d sent everyone away. Your best friend had tried to stay, but you insisted you didn’t need her hovering. You also told her some lie that the nurses said only immediate family could stay. Your dad had called multiple times, offering to send a neighbor or someone to sit with you until he could get there. But you told him the same thing. You didn’t need anyone there with you. You’d be fine until he could get there.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by the steady thud of boots against the linoleum floor, echoing down the hallway. You barely glanced up, expecting to see another loved one ignoring your instructions to stay away. 

Without lifting your head, you muttered, “Go home. I’m fine.”

The boots stopped. You waited for a response, but none came. Irritation flared, and you straightened slightly in your chair. 

“I said, go home,” you repeated, sharper this time.

Still nothing. Finally, you glanced up, ready to tell whoever it was to leave in no uncertain terms. 

The words caught in your throat when you saw him. Tyler stood in the doorway, his hat tucked in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed with concern, but his eyes softened when they met yours.

You swallowed hard and dropped your gaze back to your hands, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room. “Your friend called me,” he said simply. “She told me what happened.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in your lap. 

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to be here. You can leave.”

Tyler didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unrelenting. Finally, you glanced up to see that he hadn’t moved an inch. His expression was unreadable, but there was a steadiness in his gaze that made your chest ache.

“Go home, Tyler,” you said again, this time with more force.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you. “When you can look me in the eye and tell me you’re okay without lying,” he said, his voice steady and calm, “I’ll leave. Until then, I’m staying right here.”

The breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly looked away, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. You couldn’t meet his gaze. Not when he saw right through the mask you’d been wearing all day.

Your eyes landed on the brown bag in his hand. The logo was instantly recognizable, and despite everything, a flicker of confusion crossed your face. 

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Tyler glanced down at the bag as if just remembering it. He crossed the room, closing the distance between you, and held it out.

“Figured you hadn’t eaten today,” he said simply. “It’s well past supper, and you need food. Stopped by your favorite place and got you your usual.”

You blinked at him, the unexpected gesture catching you off guard. For a moment, you just stared at the bag in his hand, unsure whether to take it.

When you didn’t move, Tyler set it down gently on the chair beside you and crouched down so he was at eye level. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “Just eat something, okay?”

The tears you’d been holding back all day finally broke free, and you quickly turned your head, pressing the heel of your hand against your eyes. Tyler didn’t say anything, didn’t try to touch you or pry. He just stayed there, steady and calm, his quiet presence more comforting than you wanted to admit.

You didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore, so you reached for the bag, the smell of your favorite meal filling the room as you opened it. It was still warm, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket.

You managed to eat about half of the food Tyler had brought before your stomach protested. Setting the container back into the bag, you folded it shut with deliberate care, focusing on the crinkle of the paper as a distraction. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and unrelenting. The silence stretched again, broken only by the distant murmur of hospital staff and the faint beeping of monitors from somewhere down the hall.

After a few moments, Tyler cleared his throat, the sound startling in the stillness. “Do you have any updates?” he asked, his voice low but careful, as if afraid of pushing too hard. “Have you heard how she’s doing?”

Your throat tightened, and you shook your head without looking up. You couldn’t speak—not without your voice breaking. You clenched your hands in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep the tears at bay.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he watched you, the effort you were putting into holding yourself together painfully clear. He saw the slight tremble in your hands, the way your shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world. 

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Without a word, he stood from the chair across the room and moved to the one beside you. You didn’t look at him, but you noticed the shift, and felt the heat of his presence closer now.

You glanced sideways as Tyler settled into the chair, his broad frame filling the space beside you. He didn’t say anything, but he opened his arm, leaving it resting on the back of the chair as he leaned slightly toward you. It wasn’t an overt gesture—just enough to let you know it was there, an unspoken invitation.

You hesitated, your breath hitching as you looked at the open space he was offering. A part of you wanted to retreat, to keep the wall between you firmly in place. But the ache in your chest—the one you’d been fighting all day—finally won out.

Slowly, you leaned over, your weight shifting until your head rested against his chest. His arm closed gently around you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. He didn’t pull you in too tightly, giving you the space to move if you wanted, but the warmth and steadiness of him made you feel like the world might stop spinning just for a moment.

The steady beat of his heart was soothing against your ear, a rhythm that felt like home in a way you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about right now. You closed your eyes, your shoulders sagging as the tension slowly began to leave your body.

Tyler didn’t speak. He didn’t ask any more questions or try to fill the silence. He just sat there, holding you as the tears you’d been holding back slipped quietly down your cheeks. And for the first time that day, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t completely alone.

The quiet warmth of Tyler’s presence, combined with the emotional toll of the day, eventually caught up to you. Your breathing slowed as you sank deeper against his chest, the exhaustion overtaking your attempts to stay awake. Tyler glanced down at you and realized you’d fallen asleep, your face relaxed for the first time since he’d arrived.

He didn’t move. He stayed as still as he could, not wanting to disturb you. His arm remained firmly around you, holding you steady as your head rose and fell gently with the rhythm of his breathing. 

Tyler rested his head back against the wall, his free hand rubbing tiredly at his face. He stared at the sterile ceiling tiles above, his mind racing with a mix of relief and guilt. He was here, and you were letting him be here, but he couldn’t help thinking about all the times before when he hadn’t been.

Nearly two hours passed in silence, broken only by the occasional murmur of passing staff. Tyler shifted slightly, careful not to wake you. Just as he was debating whether to adjust his arm that was starting to go numb, the sound of the waiting room door opening caught his attention.

He turned his head, his gaze landing on the doctor who stepped into the room. The man was middle-aged, with a kind but tired face, his scrubs wrinkled from what must have been a long shift. Tyler straightened slightly, his movements gentle enough that you didn’t stir.

“Are you the family of (your mom’s name)?” The doctor asked, his voice soft but clear.

Tyler hesitated for a second, glancing down at you. “She is,” he said, his voice low so as not to startle you. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he shook your shoulder gently. “Hey, wake up,” he murmured.

You stirred, your brow furrowing as your eyes blinked open. For a moment, you seemed disoriented, but then you sat up quickly, your hand brushing your hair from your face as you glanced between Tyler and the doctor.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice still thick with exhaustion.

“The doctor’s here with an update about your mom,” Tyler said gently, giving you a reassuring look.

You swallowed hard and turned your attention to the doctor, your hands twisting nervously in your lap.

“Surgery went well,” the doctor said, his tone calm and steady. “She’s in recovery now. We’ll keep her here for a few days to monitor her, but she’s expected to make a full recovery.

A wave of relief hit you so hard it almost felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out. Tyler’s hand moved to rest lightly on your shoulder, grounding you as the doctor continued.

“She’ll be groggy for a little while when she wakes up, but she’s stable.” The doctor reassured.

“Can I see her now?” you asked quickly, your voice trembling.

The doctor nodded but held up a hand. “Only one person can go in at a time. She needs to stay as calm as possible while she comes out of the anesthesia.”

You hesitated, glancing at Tyler for just a moment. His blue eyes softened, and he gave you a small, encouraging nod. “Go ahead,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Your heart clenched at the steadiness in his voice. Without another word, you stood, your legs shaky beneath you as you followed the doctor out of the waiting room. Before you passed through the door, you glanced back at Tyler. He was still sitting, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher—concern, affection, and maybe something deeper.

He gave you a faint smile, his eyes never leaving you as you disappeared into the hallway.

A few hours later, the hum of the hospital had settled into a quiet rhythm as the nurses moved efficiently between rooms. You had been sitting at your mom’s bedside for as long as they allowed, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. Relief had begun to seep into your bones, replacing the earlier tension, but exhaustion lingered, weighing heavily on you.

Eventually, a nurse came in, her smile kind but firm. “She’s stable now and will need her rest through the night. We’ll call if there are any changes, but it’s best if you go home and get some sleep too.”

You nodded, reluctant but understanding, and stood slowly, brushing your hand against your mom’s. You whispered a quiet goodbye and promised you’d be back first thing in the morning.

As you made your way back to the waiting room, you pulled your phone from your pocket. You’d been dropped off earlier and hadn’t even thought about how you’d get home. You scrolled through your contacts, landing on the name of a neighbor who’d always been quick to lend a hand. Just as you pressed the call button, Tyler’s voice interrupted you.

“I can drive you home,” he said softly, standing up from the chair where he’d been waiting.

You froze, lowering the phone from your ear. “Tyler, it’s late. You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted, his voice calm but steady. “But I’d like to. If you’d let me.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. The idea of being alone in the car with him made your chest tighten. Not because you didn’t trust him—but because you weren’t sure you could handle the quiet, the possibility of him pressing you about everything that had happened between you.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Tyler raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just a ride home,” he assured you. “That’s it. No talking, no pushing. I know this isn’t the time for… everything else. I just don’t think you should be alone right now.”

His words settled over you, soft and sincere. You studied him for a moment, searching for any sign of an ulterior motive, but there was none. Just a quiet steadiness in the way he looked at you, the same steadiness that had kept you grounded all night.

Finally, you nodded, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Okay,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

Tyler gave a small nod, grabbing his jacket from the chair and slipping it on. He didn’t say anything else, just gestured for you to follow him. 

The night air was crisp, the faint hum of insects filling the quiet as you and Tyler stepped into the dimly lit hospital parking lot. He stayed a step ahead, his boots scuffing softly against the pavement as he led the way to his truck. When you reached it, Tyler opened the passenger door, pausing to glance at you.

You climbed into the seat, the familiar scent of his truck—faintly leathery, with a trace of pine—wrapping around you like a memory. He waited until you were settled, buckling your seatbelt, before carefully shutting the door.

You watched him through the windshield as he walked around the front of the truck, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the rumble filling the silence.

As he eased out of the parking lot, Tyler glanced over at you. “Do you want me to take you to your mom’s house or home?”

The word hung in the air between you for a beat too long. Tyler’s jaw tightened slightly, and he quickly corrected himself, his voice quieter. “I mean… my place. Do you want me to take you to my place instead?”

You turned your head to look out the window, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across your face as the truck rolled forward. Your mom’s house would feel empty, too quiet for you to face tonight. Every room would carry the weight of her absence, the echoes of your worry. The thought of sitting there, alone with your thoughts, was unbearable.

“Can I… stay with you tonight?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

Tyler’s hands tightened briefly on the steering wheel, but he didn’t look at you. Instead, he just nodded and turned the truck onto a familiar road, the one that led to his old farmhouse.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Of course.”

The drive was quiet after that, neither of you saying much. The occasional hum of the truck’s tires against the road filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt more like an unspoken agreement to let the quiet speak for itself, to let the exhaustion and the events of the day settle.

As the farmhouse came into view, its porch light glowing faintly in the distance, you felt your shoulders relax ever so slightly. Tyler parked the truck in the gravel drive and killed the engine, the sudden stillness almost startling.

He glanced at you, his voice low. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Tyler unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside and flipping on the lights. The warm glow illuminated the familiar space, but as you stepped through the doorway, you hesitated. The house felt the same, smelled the same—like cedarwood and faint traces of whatever cologne Tyler always wore—but you didn’t.

You paused just inside, unsure if you had the right to walk through it as freely as you used to. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, and your arms wrapped around yourself almost instinctively, like a shield.

Tyler paused near the bottom of the stairs and glanced back at you, his brow furrowing slightly when he noticed your hesitation. He rubbed the back of his neck before offering a small smile.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, his voice soft. Then, after a beat, he added, “You know where everything is.”

You nodded faintly, still unsure, but before you could say anything, he gestured to the stairs. “I’m gonna run up and see if I can find you something comfortable to wear for tonight. Be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, Tyler jogged up the stairs, his boots thudding softly against the wooden steps. You stood there for a moment, listening as the sound of his footsteps faded, before finally stepping further into the house.

You found yourself drifting toward the kitchen, your fingers brushing lightly against the edges of the counters as you passed. The farmhouse kitchen had always been one of your favorite spots—it was warm, lived-in, and full of charm. But now, as you glanced around, you noticed how disheveled it was.

Dishes were piled high in the sink, crumbs scattered across the counters. A forgotten coffee mug sat near the edge of the table, and you spotted a pair of work gloves tossed haphazardly onto one of the chairs. It was clear Tyler hadn’t been keeping up with housework.

Your chest tightened slightly. He was probably just as exhausted as you were after the week you’d both had. Without really thinking, you filled the sink with warm water, adding soap until suds began to rise. You rolled up your sleeves and got to work, grabbing the first plate from the pile.

The rhythm of cleaning was soothing, your hands moving on autopilot as you scrubbed and rinsed. One dish turned into two, then three, until the pile began to shrink. You didn’t hear Tyler come back down the stairs until his voice broke through the quiet.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Startled, you glanced over your shoulder. He was leaning against the doorframe, holding a neatly folded T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in his hands. His expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.

“I know,” you said softly, turning back to the sink. “I just… wanted to help.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Tyler set the clothes down on the table and walked over, his boots clicking lightly against the tile. He reached past you and grabbed a clean dish towel, drying one of the plates you’d just washed.

The two of you worked in quiet tandem, the only sounds coming from the water and the soft clink of dishes. When the last plate was dried and put away, Tyler finally spoke again.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he repeated, his voice lower this time.

You dried your hands on the towel and glanced at him. “I know,” you said again, meeting his gaze. “But I wanted to.”

Tyler held your gaze for a long moment before nodding. He motioned toward the clothes he’d brought down. “Those should be comfortable.

You nodded, taking the clothes from the table and brushing past him, your fingers grazing his for just a moment.

Tyler held your gaze for a long moment before nodding, but instead of leaving it at that, he started to speak, his words coming out in a ramble—something you knew he only did when he was nervous.

“I, uh, was looking to see if maybe you’d left something here. You know, clothes or—just… something. But it looks like you cleared everything out when you left—”

He cut himself off abruptly, the weight of the words hanging in the air like a stone dropped into still water. You saw the flicker of regret cross his face as if he wished he could take them back.

Your chest tightened the reality of the distance between the two of you crashing back in. You forced a nod, your throat too tight to speak, and clutched the clothes tighter to your chest.

Without another word, you turned and headed toward the bathroom down the hall, your steps quick and purposeful, driven by the sudden need to put space between you and him.

You changed into the clothes Tyler had given you, silently hating how comfortable they felt. The fabric was soft and worn in all the right ways, and the faint scent of him lingering on them—woodsy, clean, and unmistakably Tyler—settled you in a way you didn’t want to admit. It felt too easy, too familiar, and you tried to shake the thought as you ran a hand over your face and took a steadying breath.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the farmhouse was quiet, save for the faint creak of the old wood floors beneath your feet. You padded into the living room and spotted a throw pillow and blanket folded neatly on the back of the couch. Without giving it much thought, you reached for them and began to lay them out, preparing to make a bed for the night.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you pause, and you turned to find Tyler standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

You glanced at the blanket in your hands and then back at him. “I’m making a place to sleep,” you said simply, motioning toward the couch.

He shook his head almost immediately, his expression firm. “No, you’re not.”

Your brow knit in confusion. “What do you mean, no? I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Tyler.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened briefly, but his voice was calm and steady when he spoke. “And I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“Tyler—”

He cut you off, his tone a little more resolute this time, though still gentle. “You’re sleeping upstairs. In the bed. End of discussion.”

You frowned at him, not sure whether to feel annoyed at his stubbornness or oddly comforted by it. “And where exactly are you planning to sleep, then?”

“The couch,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

“Tyler, that’s ridiculous—”

“It’s not,” he interrupted again, his voice softening just slightly. “You’ve had a hell of a day, and you’re not about to spend the night crammed on this couch. You need to rest, and you’re sleeping in the bed.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the way he was looking at you—his gaze steady and full of quiet insistence—made the words catch in your throat. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you. Finally, you exhaled, realizing there was no point in fighting him on this.

“Fine,” you muttered, reluctantly grabbing the pillow and blanket and handing them to him. “But if you wake up sore in the morning, that’s on you.”

Tyler chuckled softly, taking them from your hands. “I’ll take my chances.”

As you turned to head upstairs, you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t until you were settled beneath the covers, the familiar scent of the farmhouse wrapping around you, that you realized how much you’d missed the quiet comfort of this place—and, if you were being honest, him.

Downstairs, you heard the faint sound of the couch creaking as Tyler settled in, followed by the soft exhale of his breath. And for the first time in days, you felt the edges of exhaustion pulling you into sleep, knowing you weren’t alone.

The soft sounds from downstairs pulled you from your sleep, and for a moment, you lay there disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings grounding you in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. The room was too quiet, too still, and it wasn’t until you spotted the framed photos on the wall—the ones you’d seen countless times before—that you remembered where you were. Tyler’s house. His bed.

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and the faint smell of coffee and something cooking reached you, accompanied by the faint clang of a pan. Pushing the covers off, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood, padding toward the stairs.

The kitchen came into view as you reached the bottom step, and you stopped in the doorway, momentarily caught off guard. Tyler was standing at the stove, barefoot, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that clung to his back just enough to remind you how unfairly attractive he was. He looked so casual, so domestic, like he belonged here in this space that had always felt like home to you too. And that realization was almost too much to take, given the current mess of emotions between the two of you.

He must have heard your footsteps because he turned, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he saw you. “Morning,” he said, his voice warm and easy, like this was just another day in the life you used to share. “How’d you sleep?”

You hesitated for half a second before answering. “Fine,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. “Thanks for…everything last night.”

He just nodded, as though it were a given. “Feel free to make yourself some coffee,” he said, motioning toward the Keurig sitting on the counter.

You blinked, your gaze landing on the sleek machine that had replaced the old, battered coffee pot he’d had for years. The sight of it caught you off guard, like it was proof that time had moved on in this house even when you hadn’t been here to see it.

“I didn’t remember how you like your coffee these days,” Tyler admitted, running a hand through his hair. “With all the stuff you used to add to it, I figured I’d mess it up. But there’s still some pods and syrups in the cupboard. And I, uh—” He cleared his throat and motioned toward the fridge. “I went to the store and picked up some creamer. It’s the kind you used to like. Figured it couldn’t hurt to have it, just in case.”

Your chest tightened at his words, at the small gesture that felt far too thoughtful for what you thought you deserved right now. You opened the fridge to find the familiar bottle sitting there, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at it, trying to process the sudden wave of emotions.

“Eggs’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Tyler said, his voice pulling you back. He glanced over his shoulder at you as he stirred something in the pan. “Hope you’re hungry.”

You shut the fridge door and turned, your gaze settling on him again. He looked so at ease, so natural standing there, that it made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep your voice steady as you replied, “Yeah. I think I could eat.”

He nodded, turning his attention back to the stove, and you lingered in the doorway for a moment longer before making your way to the counter to fix your coffee. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d stepped back into a memory, even though you knew things weren’t the same anymore.

Not even close.

 You sat across from Tyler at the small wooden table, the one that had been in this kitchen for as long as you could remember. The plates between you held scrambled eggs and toast, simple but enough to ease the ache of an empty stomach. The air between you was thick with an awkwardness that neither of you seemed willing to address, and the only sounds filling the room were the soft scrape of forks against plates and the occasional clink of a glass being set back on the table.

You stared down at your plate, taking another small bite, trying to focus on the food and not the tension that was quietly suffocating the space. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Setting your fork down, you cleared your throat softly, your voice tentative as you broke the silence.

“Thank you,” you said, your gaze lifting to meet his, though he didn’t look up right away. “For everything. For… being there for me.”

Tyler’s fork hovered over his plate for a moment before he set it down. He looked down at his plate, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “It was about time,” he murmured, his voice quiet but weighted. “About time I was there when you needed me to be.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, cutting through the delicate balance you’d been trying to maintain. You blinked, your throat tightening as you realized what he meant. He wasn’t just talking about yesterday or last night. He was thinking about all the times he hadn’t been there—your last birthday, the other moments and milestones you’d quietly endured alone. The guilt in his tone was unmistakable, and it settled heavily in your chest.

“Tyler…” you started, your voice soft, but he quickly shook his head, stopping you before you could go any further.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said firmly, finally glancing up at you. His eyes were steady, but there was a flicker of something raw in them that made your breath hitch. “It is what it is.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, cutting off any argument you might have made. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what you could even say to that.

Tyler leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he tried to steer the conversation away from the growing tension. “Once you’re done eating,” he said, his voice lighter now, though it still carried a trace of that earlier guilt, “I can take you over to your mom’s to get your car.”

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject, even if it felt like a half-hearted attempt to escape the unspoken weight between you. “Yeah, okay,” you murmured, reaching for your glass and taking a sip of water.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less oppressive. You both focused on finishing your meals, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.

[meangirls-imagines]

Coachella Diaries

Description: Reader works for WWE and gets hurt during Wrestlemania, causing her to go on a months long break. She goes to Coachella Weekend 2 to support her girl.

WARNINGS: fluffy as shit, slightly suggestive at the end, reneechella (bc that's a warning itself)

Y/N stepped (as best as she could) off the plane and sighed at the California sun hitting her body. 

Her body was exhausted. Wrestlemania was the 6th and 7th, she performed both nights and unfortunately had torn a couple of ligaments in her foot. She worked through the pain and helped make Wrestlemania record breaking. She had gotten surgery on the 16th, which meant she unfortunately missed the first weekend of her girlfriend playing Coachella.

Reneè was also understandably upset, not at Y/N, but at the fact that her girlfriend had to get surgery and she couldn't be there. Luckily for Reneè, Y/N had her fellow superstars keep the blonde updated. The doctor had cleared Y/N for travel on the 18th and she landed in LAX on the morning of the 19th. 

Towa had been the one to help Y/N plan this out, picking her up from the airport. The musician smiled as Y/N hobbled towards her with her bag. "There's my favorite cripple! How's the foot?" Y/N smiled and hugged the girl. "It's definitely injured. I'll be out for a minute but honestly, I'm not mad, I need a break."

Towa laughed. "Ain't that the truth? If I have to hear Reneè freak out about every bump you take, I might've gone crazy." Y/N blushed. Reneè was always very protective of Y/N, not that her profession helped with that. The blonde loved and hated watching Y/N do her thing. Yes, Y/N looked hot but if Y/N had to take another spear from Roman Reigns or a stomp to the chest from Finn Balor, Reneè was going to commit murder. 

This new era of WWE meant the return of inter-gender wrestling, with Y/N leading the charge. She had become the inaugural WWE World Heavyweight Champion, holding it for 316 days. She had been a part of the two biggest main events of Wrestlemania history, which is where she tore the ligaments in her foot. Never the less, she persisted and opened the next night of Mania, unfortunately she lost her title but the ovation she got when she got backstage was worth it. 

She was thrilled to help Cody finish his story but also was happy that she could get a break. She saw the doctor who gave her the diagnosis and what doctor to see and she was on her way.

She had messaged Towa the night she found out and set the surprise up. 

As the two ventured out of the airport, they caught up with each other, Towa informing Y/N of her love life and what not. The two reached the SUV and began the drive from the airport to the AirBnB they were renting for the festival. During the two hour car ride, Y/N had told Towa about some backstage drama happening as the Brit ate it up.

After 2 and a half hours, they finally made it to the house. Adam had been standing outside, waiting for them as they pulled up. The man helped Y/N out of the car and gave her a hug. "There's my favorite former champ! Congrats on the run. It was a rollercoaster." Y/N smiled and hugged the man back. "Thanks Adam! It was definitely a rollercoaster! A fun one though! So, where is my girl?"

Adam laughed. "She's out in the back with everyone else, they're pregaming before we go. Are you sure you can handle going out?" Y/N nodded. "I slept on the plane ride here. Perks of using the company jet." Adam nodded as Towa met up with them, handing Y/N her bag. The trio headed inside. 

Adam and Towa headed to the back to distract everyone while Y/N slipped into the room Reneè was staying in. She took in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of Reneè. God, she missed it so much. She changed quickly, putting on the custom "Reneèchella made me gay" shirt and some shorts before getting the message from Towa to make her appearance. 

She grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed out to the backyard. The group all did a "cheers" before taking the shots provided for them. Y/N decided to speak up. "Do I get a shot too?" 

Everyone turned towards the new voice but no one turned quicker than Reneè. The blonde stood shocked at the sight of her girlfriend, boot and all, standing in front of her. "Holy fuck! Reneè ran to where Y/N was standing and hugged the girl tightly. Y/N laughed and kissed the blonde's head. "Hey superstar. I've missed you." Everyone was aww-ing at the scene, some clapping. 

Reneè pulled away from the hug and pressed her lips to Y/N's, kissing her for the first time in weeks. The group cheered as the two kissed, causing Reneè to slip them off. After a minute, the two pulled away and Reneè began to scratch the back of Y/N's neck. "You're really here!" Y/N smiled and kissed her nose. "I am. Now I think it's time to have some fun." Reneè smiled and pulled Y/N over to her friends. 

The group was watching Chappell Roan absolutely kill it when fans began to notice the couple being all cute.

@y/nisthechamp: GUYS! I'M AT COACHELLA WATCHING THE QUEEN CHAPPELL ROAN AND RENEÈ AND Y/N ARE LITERALLY 10 FEET AWAY FROM ME AND THEY ARE SO CUTE!! Y/N IS HUGGING RENEÈ FROM BEHIND AND THEY ARE SINGING AND DANCING!!

@/reneerappslut23: guys. i just saw a video of reneè and y/n all cozy at coachella and my heart 🥺

@y/nfan123: just saw a video of reneè grinding on y/n while they were watching t-pain. don't know who i wanna be more...

@/reneefan253: guys. reneè cannot keep her hands off y/n. she's always rubbing her back or the back of her head or her shoulder. WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN?!

The group made their way back to the house, all breaking off to their respective rooms, sleepily exchanging good nights. Reneè and Y/N made their way to Reneè's room. The two flopped on the bed, Reneè snuggling into Y/N's side. "I'm so glad you're here. I can't wait for you to see me perform." Y/N kissed the blonde's forehead. "Me too baby."

The next day was a lot of the same, more musicians sets, more drinking, etc. Sunday came a lot faster than Y/N expected and she found herself sitting in Reneè's trailer with her, the girl getting ready for her set. Reneè was looking on her phone as her hairstylist finished up her look. Y/N decided to take a stealthy picture and post it on her insta with the caption "coachella ready", tagging Reneè. 

Comments started flooding in immediately. One that stood out to Y/N was from her not older sister Liv Morgan.

@/yaonlylivvonce: We are so excited to see her!! Drinks after?

Y/N smiled and responded to the girl. Adam poked his head in and informed Reneè she had five minutes. The blonde thanked him, took a deep breath and pulled Y/N with her to the wings of the stage. To Y/N and Reneè's surprise, Alyah was waiting for them. Reneè squealed, wrapping Alyah in a tight hug. Y/N smiled at the pair and took a picture of them hugging. Alyah pulled away and hugged Y/N too, scolding her about her injury and how she should've been more careful. 

Reneè saved Y/N by pulling her away from Alyah, wrapping her arms around Y/N's waist and burying her face in her neck. Y/N rubbed the blonde's back. "You're gonna do amazing out there Reneè. Please remember to drink water though. Don't need you passing out on stage." Reneè chuckled as she heard her intro being played. 

"Well, I guess that's me." Reneè pulled her head out of Y/N's neck, leaning up for a kiss. "I love you." Y/N smiled and pecked Reneè's lips. "I love you more. Now go kill it." And with a playful smack on the butt, Reneè went out on stage.

"Tasted the blood in my mouth, and left you there to bleed out.."

Y/N being there must have flipped a switch in Reneè because the girl was putting on a SHOW. Y/N had to keep herself from drooling watching her girlfriend do what she loved. Y/N's fav part do far had to be the Willow ass shake. For scientific reasons, of course. Y/N saw Towa getting her in-ears put in and grabbing her guitar. "Go kill it out there, Birdie." Towa winked playfully at Y/N and went out on her cue from the blonde. 

The two were soon joined by Coco Jones as they performed "Tummy Hurts". Y/N smiled at hoe happy her girl looked. Watching Reneè perform was Y/N's favorite thing to do. She loved how confident Reneè was on stage and how carefree she looked. 

After a beautiful rendition of "Snow Angel", Reneè gave her thanks to the crowd and jogged off stage. One of the crew guys poured a little bit of water on the back of Renee's neck, to cool her off, as the girl walked straight into Y/N's open arms, almost collapsing in the embrace.

"Fuck Reneè, I'm so fucking proud of you, superstar." Reneè blushed and hid her face in Y/N's neck. "I couldn't have done it without you here." Y/N laughed and kissed the blonde's temple. "You did it last weekend." Reneè pulled away from Y/N's neck and smiled at her. "Yeah, but it wasn't as fun." Y/N rolled her eyes and kissed Reneè, unaware of Towa taking a picture of them. 

Everyone praised Reneè and her performance before they walked back to the area where her trailer was. Alyah spoke up. "So, what's the plan now?" Reneè smirked and looked at Y/N. "Well, Y/N and I are going to go back to the house to...catch up and we'll meet you guys later?" Towa and Alyah shared a knowing look before nodding and going to watch another set. 

Y/N looked at Reneè confused. "Catch up?" The blonde nodded. "Mhhm. I'm planning on reclaiming my favorite seat..." Y/N caught on and blushed, allowing the blonde to pull her to the car waiting for them.

Yeah, Towa and Alyah would be fine on their own for a while...

[eringobragh420]

💜 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!OC / Finn Balor x f!OC 💜 Summary: Annabel is caught cheating on Finn with Damian. Now she must deal with the aftermath. 🛑 Warnings: Angst. mention of infidelity 💜 Word Count: 3.9k 💜 Notes: This is the continuation (part two) of Getting Caught. It'll be a multi-chapter story featuring an OC. ❤️ Thank you so much to @femdisa for reading through a portion and offering her valuable feedback. ❤️ MASTERLIST ❤️ 💜 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here!

It wasn’t difficult convincing Finn to leave dinner early. He took one look at her face, the blood drained from her cheeks, her round, glassy eyes, the way she seemed to be unsteady on her own feet, and asked if she needed to go. She could only nod, clutching at her abdomen as her stomach rolled and sloshed, and Finn stood instantly. He apologized to their friends as he wrapped an arm around her and helped her toward the exit. Don’t look back, she told herself. Don’t do it. So of course she did, glancing subtly over her shoulder at the moment Damian returned to the table. He noticed who was missing and looked up, meeting her gaze. He couldn’t do much else without giving them away, so he simply nodded before collapsing into his chair and scrubbing his hands over his face. She felt that ice pick again, chipping away at what was left of her heart.

Finn helped her into the car, and she felt like the worst girlfriend in the world, maybe even the worst person in the world. It was a miserable sentiment, but she would never deny that it was exactly what she deserved. She could complain about Finn all day, everything he did or didn’t do, and none of it would justify sleeping with one of his closest friends, and however he chose to react when she told him what she’d done would be appropriate, and she would accept whatever the outcome might be.

“Annabel?” Finn asked, snapping her out of her reverie. She looked at him. “Do ya think it was somethin’ ya ate?”

She didn’t understand the question, so decided to ignore it. “Finn, we need to talk,” she all but vomited the words.

Her boyfriend glanced at her wearing a lopsided smile. His blue eyes flashed like lightning as the street lights passed. “Talk about what?” he asked, still smiling. So beautiful, so ignorant.

Annabel gulped. “Um … I don’t know—” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Better to just rip the bandaid off. “Finn—” Christ, it hurt just to say his name. How the hell was she going— “—I’ve been sleeping with Damian.”

Finn’s cobalt eyes were on the road when she confessed, and he looked back at her, so obviously ready—and clearly wanting—to laugh at her terrible joke. His attention went back to the road for a split second before he was focused on her again. He did this several times, handsome smile fading more and more until it disappeared completely. He shifted in his seat. “What did ya say?” he asked.

Her mouth became arid and her heart was pounding so hard it was like one long beat. “I’ve been sleeping with Damian,” she repeated, this time adding, “I’m so sorry.”

The vehicle came to a slow stop at a stop sign, a low squeak echoing off the neighborhood houses. Finn looked at her, and she swore she saw The Demon flash across his face. “You’ve been fuckin’ Damian?” he pressed.

Annabel didn’t care much for his choice of words, but she accepted that she deserved hearing them. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m—”

“For how long?” His voice was steadily rising. “When did it start?” She should have known he might want answers to these questions, but here she sat, utterly speechless. “What, suddenly ya don’t hear me?”

“A year,” she replied. “It’s been a year. Finn, I’m so—”

“Sorry, right, yeah, I heard ya,” he interrupted, and she sealed her lips. They were still stopped at the intersection, not another car in sight. “So what do ya want me to do, Anna?” he questioned. “I’m just supposed to forgive ya? Because ya told me the truth?” She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. “And why did ya tell me? It’s been goin’ on for a year and I had no fuckin’ idea, so ya could’a just kept right on fuckin’ each other.”

Annabel looked at Finn, the tears that had been building now cascading down her contoured cheeks. She sniffed. “Rhea caught us,” she muttered.

Finn nodded, chuckling mirthlessly. “So not because ya felt bad or ya regret it,” he sneered, “but because ya got caught.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, wiping at the tears on her face and neck. Fuck, I’m even worse than I thought. “Yep,” she whispered, welcoming the numbness from earlier as it overwhelmed the self-loathing threatening to consume her.

A terrifying quiet gripped the inside of the SUV lasting only several moments, but feeling like years. Finn’s piercing eyes slowly slid to her, and she knew better than to meet his gaze, but it was instinct that made her look.

“When did she catch ya?” he growled.

More tears formed, quickly tumbling out of her eyes, and she didn’t bother trying to clear them away, knowing a flood was imminent. “At the restaurant,” she murmured.

Finn inhaled deeply through his nostrils. He sat still for a moment before his hand crept to the door handle where he pressed the unlock button. “Get out,” he ordered, surprisingly restrained.

She’d expected him to be furious and she’d expected their relationship would likely end, but she hadn’t considered that he’d just kick her out of the car. Of course you didn’t expect that—you’re a selfish bitch. She wanted to plead her case, beg for him to let her grab some things from their place, along with her own vehicle, but why did she deserve any of that after what she’d done? She looked at Finn, tears still falling, and he kept his eyes forward, both hands clutching the steering wheel white-knuckle tight. She nodded, grabbing her purse, and she climbed out of the SUV. As soon as she closed the door, Finn took off, tires squealing and smoking, and she watched him go, deep down wishing he would turn around, and even further down, knowing he wouldn’t. 

Annabel stood on the sidewalk next to the stop sign, watching Finn’s car until it made a turn and was out of sight. Numb body now on autopilot, she retrieved her phone from her purse and opened her contacts. As she scrolled through names and nicknames and businesses and bosses, she came to the slow realization that anyone who might have picked her up in this situation was a friend of Finn’s. All of her friends had been friends with Finn first. After suffering a devastating knee injury in her first and only WrestleMania match several years before, she was told she would never wrestle again. Upon hearing this news, Hunter, one of WWE’s executive producers, offered her a job behind the scenes, but on the NXT brand at the time. Since all of her friends had been on the main roster, she eventually lost contact with them. It was about that time she’d been hurrying backstage, immersed in an email on her phone, when she’d literally run into one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life.

Shaking her head in a failed attempt at physically jostling the memories from her brain, she focused again on her contacts. Family would have been there in a heartbeat no matter how despicable a person she was, but they were 3,000 miles away. She scrolled several times past the one name she knew would help her because she worried this would be the one time he didn’t answer her call. After a brief moment of consideration and the shedding of more tears, she tapped his name with her thumb and slowly raised the phone to her ear.

Damian answered after only one ring. “Hey.” She blinked, taking a deep breath, and she cupped her free hand over her mouth as a sudden urge to cry out overpowered her. The memory of Damian’s confession came crashing through her already delicate mind and she thought she might pass out. “Bel?” Oh, god, don’t call me that. Not that. Not the nickname I love the most that only you have ever called me.

She collapsed against the metal post of the stop sign. “Damian,” she wept, removing her hand just enough so her speech wasn’t muffled, replacing it immediately after.

“Where are you?” he asked, and a second later she heard car keys jingle. “Are you at home?”

“No,” she replied, lifting her hand again. “I’m at a … stop sign …” She looked up at the street names and read them off. There was silence on the other end of the line.

“He left you by some stop sign?” Damian growled.

“Damian, please,” she sobbed.

“Alright, alright. I’m on my way. I’ll be right there, okay?”

Annabel was only able to nod before tapping the button to end the call. The true gravity of the situation threatened to crush her as she waited. She and Finn had been a special circumstance, Hunter had told them, reminiscing about his early relationship with Stephanie, so he’d agreed to look the other way as long as she and Finn’s relationship didn’t interfere in any way with work. And it never had. Until now—because surely Finn would tell someone about what she’d done. And if things weren’t complicated enough, she’d involved Damian Priest. Depending on how everything played out, they all three could end up fired. Thanks to her. 

“Well done, Annabel,” she sniffed, wiping away more tears. “Well done.”

Her feet were screaming by the time Damian arrived. The heels she’d begged Finn for had certainly been made with looks in mind and not comfort. She heard Damian’s sleek black sports car before she spotted the headlights, and her brain was briefly paralyzed by the memory of the time she’d ridden Damian’s dick while he sped down the highway at well past the legal limit, both of them giggling like children, moaning like pornstars. One of the most dangerous, exciting, and sexiest times of her life had happened in the very vehicle that was approaching her now. Why are you thinking about this right now? How does any of this matter right … now? 

“Are you okay?” Damian asked, rounding the front of his vehicle. He was still in the black slacks and black button down he’d worn to dinner, and she wondered if he’d left the restaurant to come and get her. What had he told their friends, if anything? What had Rhea told them? Had Finn already called or texted them to let them know he’d just found out his girlfriend was a slut? “Bel?” He reached out for her, and her body stiffened. She couldn’t let him touch her. Not now. Probably not ever again. He held his hands up, nodded, and opened the passenger door for her. She hobbled over, dreading the height of the curb she was going to have to descend before she was able to climb into the car. As she was about to take the plunge, Damian extended his hand to her, and she took a long, painful moment to consider her options. She could try it on her own and risk a sprained ankle or she could just hold on to the tall Puerto Rican’s hand for the few seconds it would take her to get inside his car.

She decided on taking his hand and regretted it almost immediately. I’d marry you tomorrow, she heard him say in her fracturing mind. I can’t breathe when we’re not together. Why had he confessed in the first place? Why the hell had he done it right after they’d been caught? And why the hell had she seen so many beautiful things when she’d looked at him? Swallowing bile, she all but tumbled into the passenger seat, Damian’s hand squeezing hers as if he could provide any sort of assistance, but she wasn’t allowing him any closer than he already was. She swept her much smaller fingers easily out of his grasp, and she glued her eyes to the floorboard until Damian finally closed the door. While he passed in front of the headlights, her fingers fumbled as she unstrapped the heels from her feet and then laid them neatly across her lap. A shaking nail scraped along the sparkling crystals as her mind played a reel of the day she and Finn had been shopping and she’d spotted the shoes. She’d be the first to admit she’d acted like a child—stamping her little feet and begging her boyfriend to buy them for her—but he’d relented with a smile, that beautiful Finn Bálor smile, handing the cashier a credit card before kissing Annabel on the cheek.

“Bel?” 

She jumped, clutching the heels. The car was moving, and she didn’t remember leaving the stop sign. Realizing someone had spoken her name, she found Damian in the driver’s seat, glancing between her and the road just as Finn had done after she’d told him her deepest, darkest secret, and sent their lives into an irreversible tailspin. “What?” she asked quietly.

“I asked where you wanted me to take you,” Damian replied, his voice like smoke on velvet, and had she just stubbed her toe, she’d have found comfort in it. 

“Oh.” Her eyes fell. “Um … the nearest hotel, I guess.”

“I’m not taking you to a hotel,” Damian said.

“Damian—”

“Forget it, Annabel. I’m not leaving you alone.”

Alone. That’s all she had to look forward to. She’d have to look for a new place to live—alone. She’d be traveling alone. She’d be staying in hotel rooms alone. She’d grow old alone. She’d die alone. And the legacy she would leave behind would be that of a cheater.

“Well,” she sighed, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Then I’m taking you back to my place.”

“Damian—”

“Please, Bel? You can have the bed, I’ll sleep in the living room.”

She couldn’t deny the appeal. No need to venture into public and try to act like her life wasn’t falling apart. But most of all, she wouldn’t be alone. This might be her last chance not to be alone, and she felt her eyes tingle like she was about to cry, but no tears came. Had she actually cried them all or was she desensitizing as a coping mechanism?

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The remainder of the ride to Damian’s place was silent. Annabel cradled the heels, all the while playing the night over in her mind. How did neither of them lock the door? They’d always been so careful. They took risks, of course, but there were always precautions including locking the fucking door.

Damian pulled into a space outside his apartment building. She took a deep breath and opened the passenger door, barely getting her feet out before Damian was there. He reached for the heels in her hands and she snatched them away, hugging them tightly to her body. For the moment, they were all she had of Finn. He’d bought many things for her, but they were all at the home they’d shared, and she wasn’t sure if she’d get any of it back. They’d been gifts, but did she really have any right to them now? Damian gazed at her for a moment, and she refused to meet his eyes, so he closed the car door, and she followed him inside on bare feet.

She’d been here before, and she remembered feeling comfortable and safe, despite the infidelity she’d been committing, but now, all she felt was dread and shame. She glanced at the life size Batman in the corner of the living room, feeling the natural urge to make fun of him for it like the first time she’d seen it, but she forced those urges into the very pit of her stomach with a hard swallow. She looked at the black sofa recliner near the wall where she would sleep—there was no way she was going to let Damian give up his bed for her—and she wondered if he even had spare blankets and pillows. It was a lovely apartment, expensive, decorated with superheroes because Damian Priest was nothing if not an overgrown child, but it was only one bedroom. She wasn’t even sure he had a different comforter set than the one she’d always seen on his bed. 

The two of them stood awkwardly in the living space, Annabel clutching her heels, Damian with his hands on his hips. She kept her eyes on the floor—that’s where they were the safest—as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. They were still sore from having stood on an empty street corner with not but a stop sign to keep her company.

“So,” Damian started, clearing his throat, “you know where the bedroom and … everything is.”

“I’m just gonna sleep in the chair,” Annabel said, kneeling to place the heels on the gray hardwood floors beside the sofa as if they might shatter should she be careless with them. Like she’d been careless with her relationship with Finn, and it had so shattered as a result.

“Bel—”

“Damian,” she interrupted maybe a little more aggressively than she’d anticipated, but the man stopped speaking just the same. “It’s been a long fucking night. I don’t wanna sleep in your bed, I wanna sleep in the chair. Okay? Is that okay with you? And can you please stop calling me Bel?”

“Alright, okay,” Damian tossed over his shoulder as he headed down the hall. He returned a moment later with a blanket and pillow, setting them on the sofa. “And I got you these.” He held up one of his band t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts. “I doubt the shorts will fit you, but—”

“Thanks.”

“If you need anything—”

“I know where your bedroom is,” she replied, and the implications alone almost made her retch.

Damian took an apprehensive step toward her, her body became rigid, and he backed up. He looked at her for a moment, which she could only tell out of her peripheral vision because she still forbade herself from linking her eyes with his, and then he turned and headed for his room, hands in his pockets, head down. Did he feel bad, she wondered? Was he filled with guilt? Regret, maybe? Or, considering his earlier revelation, was he happy they’d been caught? These thoughts led her to one final question, and she buried the inquiry deep within the wrinkles of her brain, hopefully never to be considered again.

After changing out of her dress and into the t-shirt Damian had provided—the shorts were too big and far too long for comfort—she hugged her knees to her chest and laid sideways on the recliner, head on the armrest. She had no expectations of falling asleep, but as soon as she permitted her eyes to close, she was not only sleeping, but dreaming. Nightmaring, rather. The Demon was chasing her through an empty neighborhood, the heels on her feet making it all but impossible to run efficiently. Damian was there, standing at the end of the street, and she sprinted in his direction, knowing that as soon as he saw The Demon, he’d take off running himself and stop him from ever reaching her. But he never moved. She screamed his name, but nothing came out. Damian extended his arms, and she was only feet from him, launching herself off the ground and into his arms. But The Demon had an arm around her waist and he wrenched her back, further from her destination, from where she was supposed to be. 

Annabel woke up as she tried screaming Damian’s name again, thankfully making no sound in reality either. Her heart pounded, her throat was dry, and her entire body thrummed, forcing her out of the recliner. She paced for several moments, trying to control her breathing, but her lungs were completely offline from the WiFi in her brain. Alone. She’d thought wrong about being able to handle being alone. Her feet moved, seemingly of their own free will, and she wrung her hands as she padded down the hallway to the bedroom door left ajar. For her. She pushed the door open slowly, just enough so she could see inside and inspect the scene before she decided to enter. Damian was asleep, sitting up against his pillows, TV remote on his bare chest, one arm bent behind his head, brawny bicep on full display, and was there ever going to come a day when she didn’t automatically check him out? For fuck’s sake, you are a slut. 

“Damian,” she whispered, nearly choking on his name. One hand clutched the door, the other the knob, as she wasn’t going to enter without his permission. “Damian,” she repeated a little louder. 

The man jumped, eyes opening to the size of saucers. “I’m up,” he rasped, clearing his throat as he sat up, the remote rolling off his chest. He was disoriented for a moment, taking a few breaths, and then he noticed her cowering at the door. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood. “Are you okay?” he asked. He started toward her, stopped, and backed up before she was able to react negatively.

“I …” she trailed off. “Can I sleep in here tonight?” she forced out in a whisper. “I just—I didn’t want—”

“Shh,” Damian softly hushed her. “Just get in bed.” 

Annabel started around the bed to her side—you don’t have a side—when Damian grabbed his pillow.

“Wait,” she said. Damian turned to her, and her mouth clamped shut because suddenly she had no idea why she wanted him to wait.

“Do you want me to stay?” 

Annabel nodded, grateful he didn’t force her to say it, and she carefully slid into a bed she’d spent more time in than she would ever admit to. Damian repositioned his pillow before climbing under the covers.

“We can—” Damian started.

She made her way across the mattress slowly, offering Damian every opportunity to stop her—only half of her actually wanting him to stop her—but he remained still as she ducked under his arm so she could lay her head on his chest. She pressed her body to his, refraining from wrapping a leg around his so as not to give the wrong idea. The last thing she was interested in was any kind of sexual encounter. She simply needed human contact, to feel his warmth, his refined muscles, and when his arm promptly came around her waist, avoiding any of her spots, she realized she needed more than just contact—she needed to be held, to feel safe, to feel … not hated. Maybe she didn’t deserve it, but she swore to continue her self-loathing tomorrow—she just wanted to have tonight.

“You good? Is this okay?” Damian asked. Annabel could hear the sleep coating his voice.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding. “Thank you.”

Damian nodded and took a deep breath, Annabel’s head rising with his warm, bare chest, and her eyes were suddenly heavy. “For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Annabel Lee,” his scratchy voice broke the momentary silence. Annabel’s—whose middle was Lee—eyes widened, brows creasing. “And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful … Anna …” He trailed off, poetry recitation replaced by soft snoring. 

She suddenly had so many questions, but Damian’s snoring was to her like white noise was to other people. Add to that her body’s sheer exhaustion, and her just widened eyes blinked slowly before closing, her own gentle snoring joining Damian’s.

[cowboywritersworld]

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader is crushing on him and him also for her (which no one knows) but is part of the New Judgment Day where she gets mistreated by the rest by just be good enough to help Liv, Finn and JD to retain their titles and before an RAW starts Liv and Finn are talking about how they wanna beat them after an match where Damian is going one on one against Carlito after the Match which Damian won they did as they said but reader has enough and turns on the New Judgment Day by attacking JD and when Liv tries to attack her Rhea helps her and Reader just screams at Liv that she is sick and tired by them and joins Rhea and Damian by finally confess to damian and just kiss her, afterwards they stand tall in the ring together

You are better

General Masterlist | WWE Masterlist | Damian Priest Masterlist

Characters: Damian Priest, Reader. Mentioned: Liv Morgan, Finn Balor, Rhea Ripley

Prompt: can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader is crushing on him and him also for her (which no one knows) but is part of the New Judgment Day where she gets mistreated by the rest by just be good enough to help Liv, Finn and JD to retain their titles and before an RAW starts Liv and Finn are talking about how they wanna beat them after an match where Damian is going one on one against Carlito after the Match which Damian won they did as they said but reader has enough and turns on the New Judgment Day by attacking JD and when Liv tries to attack her Rhea helps her and Reader just screams at Liv that she is sick and tired by them and joins Rhea and Damian by finally confess to damian and just kiss her, afterwards they stand tall in the ring together

A/N: hope you like it!

The more time passes by, the more you regret joining the New Judgement Day. You can't find yourself at ease with them, they are basically only using you to ensure that those who have titles, will still keep it at the end of the matches, by cheating.

You are way more than that though and you perfectly are aware of that. You sigh as you wander backstage: you are not supposed to be out there for a while, and you don't fancy staying with your teammates right now.

You stop as you hear a male voice, hiding for a moment, a blush appearing on your cheeks. Damian Priest... The man who you have a secret crush on. He is talking to someone, who you assume it's Rhea Ripley, but the interlocutor is hidden by his big body.

Your gaze can't focus on anything else but his broad shoulders, his back, the form of his a-. You shake your head, trying to recompose yourself, starting to walk the other way.

"Yeah, he is going to win against Carlito, we can't help it, but once the bell rings we get out and beat him up." That is Finn's voice and suddenly you can see, from the corner of your eyes, that he is speaking to Liv. "JD, me and Dominik will have him, you and Y/N better make sure Rhea doesn't interfere."

You can hear footsteps and you look up, when they stop in front of you. "Ohy, I am sure you just heard what we said, so you better go prepare yourself, loafer." You hate Liv so much, you can't stand her, but she'll get everything back later.

"I'd watch your back, if I was you, Morgan." You hiss at her, making her gasp and give you a smack on the cheek. It burns, but you smile creepy. "Bye."

You leave them both there, getting to the locker room, where you wore you i/r/g and just went to wait near Gorilla. There, you see Damian once again, waiting for his music to hit. You smile, he can't see you and you don't want to disturb him since he seems focused. You can see from the language of his body, how he stands there straight, looking into the distance. Damian can't see you, but you notice how he turns around and looks, as if he knows someone - or maybe you - is there watching him.

Your gaze falls on his lips and for a moment you wish you are kissing him - a good luck kiss - but he doesn't know your feelings towards him. You blush at your own thoughts, hiding behind a pillar when it seems like he has spotted you.

"Playing hide and seek, are we?" He reaches you quickly, a grin on his lips.

"I am not. I just..." You stop for a moment, pondering what to say. "I just didn't want to disturb you. Plus, technically, I am still an enemy, so we shouldn't be talking." You look away, chuckling nervously.

"Oh of course, can't let myself get distracted by such a beauty." He smirks at your blush.

"Stop it! You should go, it's almost time for you to get out there." You try to push him away, but damn is he huge.

"Will wait for you out there then. Don't forget it."

He winks at you and lets you finally alone, like he hasn't just embarrassed you. That flirt means he feels the same? Or is he just playing with you?

You watch the match sitting on a crate, standing up not much before the end, waiting for the ambush to start. As JD starts to attack Damian, you rush out to the ring, attacking him from behind, punching and kicking him.

You stop only when Finn and Liv get there as well. You give your back to Damian and JD, taking a step back when Liv charges at you. You avoid her, making her crash against the ropes, smiling when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You don't need to check, to know it is Rhea who has your back right now and you are proven right when she steps in front of you, handing you a microphone in the meantime.

"This is the last straw, Liv! I am done! I am not who you all are trying to picture me. I am sick and tired of all of you, of how you all treat me!" You scream into the microphone, your face only inches away from Liv's, before she gets dragged out of the ring by Dominik." Yes, retreat, you cowards. You'll pay for this."

You can hear someone clapping behind you and you smile as you turn around when you notice it is Damian.

"This is where I belong, these are the right persons I should be with." You point at the Terror Twins as you speak. "And this is where my heart especially belongs." You walk to Damian, standing in front of Damian. "I can't hide it anymore, Damian, but my heart belongs to you."

You let the microphone fall on the ring, a blush appearing on your cheeks as you finally confessed it. You get on your tiptoes and finally kiss Damian, who is still shocked at your words.

"I love you, Damian." You whisper to him when you finally divide yourself, smirking.

"You sure are a sneaky girl, but I have to love this behavior of yours." He smirks and finally holds your hand up, while Rhea does the same.

[madhatterbri]

A Demon's Grace | F.B.

Summary: I got a humour/fluff idea for Finn/Demon Balor x reader. Demon Balor isn't afraid of anything or anyone EXCEPT Finn and reader's 5 year old daughter who in his own words is "bossy, a know it all, a chatterbox and is a mini version of her mother". The demon and Finn's little girl love to complain about each other to Finn as well 😀. You can choose the little girl's name.

Author's Note: Changed this one from my other demon Finn stories. Basically, the Demon is it's own entity. He is able to part from Finn in his own free will.

Requested by: anon

Finn Balor Masterlist

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @theworldofotps @new-zealand-chic @mrsarcherofinfamy

"How was our little Grace today?" Y/N asked that night. The parents were lying in bed, laughing and recounting their day. "Driving her big Demon brother insane?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. A bossy, know it all, chatterbox that is a mini version of her mother," he answered and laughed. Y/N couldn't hide her laugh. His Demon side certainly didn't like her. Some days she swore he viewed her as the evil stepmother.

"Oh, do tell, and please do not leave out any details," she chuckled.

Finn kissed her forehead as she snuggled into his shoulder.

Finn smiled at his five-year-old daughter, Grace. While behind her little kitchen set, she talked about the events that took place at daycare that day. The proud father's heart swelled with pride at how smart she was. He sat patiently waiting for her to serve tea and food. As she continued talking, the Demon form of him groaned.

"Does she ever stop talking?" The Demon asked rudely. "You should get it checked out just in case we have to send it back to the factory for a new one,"

"She's five," Finn answered harshly. "She likes to talk,"

"What's Y/N's excuse then?" The Demon responded with a chuckle.

Before Finn could respond, Grace gasped loudly. The doting father ignored his demon side's blatant rudeness.

"What happened, sweetheart? You get a boo boo," Finn asked and sat on his knees to get to check on her.

"I have to start over," she informed them with an exaggerated huff. Through the window, they could see her dump the plastic eggs in the disposal.

"Burning fake food? She is her mother's daughter," the Demon mused.

Finn sighed and rolled his eyes. This was an everyday occurrence between them. Ever since Grace could walk and talk, they have pestered each other like siblings.

"Daddy?" Grace asked.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He asked softly. The Demon snorted at the nickname. There was nothing sweet about that cretin.

"When is Halloween?"

The Demon's happy demeanor suddenly changed. Halloween is the one day a year that the Demon could walk in public without fear or judgment. People loved his "costume" and even took pictures with him. The Demon loved the attention until Grace started to make him dress like Disney characters.

It started last year. Y/N liked to dress the family in cute little Disney costumes. Finn didn't mind it. He knew Grace wouldn't be this young forever. Eventually, she'll want to dress apart from the family. The Demon hated it.

Last year, they dressed as the characters from Frozen. Grace wanted to be Elsa, so Y/N was Anna. Finn would be Christoph. It wasn't until a week before Halloween that Grace wanted the Demon to be Olaf. After going back and forth, the Demon finally obliged. He insisted it was to keep the peace, but they knew he was afraid of her.

"Not for a few more months, darling. Do you know what you want to dress as?"

"Ariel and the Demon will be Ursula," she answered. Not a hint of this being a joke could be heard. Her tiny finger pointed at him. The Demon's eyes widened. The tendrils around his face moved from side to side as he looked between the father and daughter.

"I think that is a great idea, sweetheart. I will let your mother know tonight," Finn smiled. He purposely ignored the baffled Demon.

"I'm not doing it," the Demon declined the ridiculous offer. He was forced to watch all the Disney movies with her. He hated it. None of the villains ever won.

"Gracie won't be this age forever,"

"I've heard the noises coming from your room at night. We'll have another one of these things soon enough,"

"It's just one night,"

"One night is how we got stuck with her and I-," the Demon stopped when Grace was in his face. Her face was a bright red. Tiny arms crossed over her chest.

"What did you say?" She asked. Finn had to hide his laugh. The tiny five year old bullying a Demon that used to rule a kingdom of hell with an iron fist.

The Demon gulped. "I can't wait to be Ursula,"

Grace smiled happily and hugged him. "Perfect,"

Y/N couldn't believe her daughter made the Demon King fold so easily. "It is kind of quiet tonight. Do you think he's still pouting?"

"Nah," Finn answered with a smile. "He is probably in her room to read her to sleep. If I had to guess, she's probably sleeping in his lap as we speak,"

"I don't believe you," she scoffed. "When did this start happening?"

"Around a week ago. Let me show you," Finn urged. The parents left their bed and tiptoed to their daughter's room. They hushed each other before opening the door. Y/N covered her mouth to muffle the sound of her shock.

Grace sat on the Demon's lap as he sat in the rocking chair. Her favorite stuffed animal clutched in her arms. A blanket covered them both. They were both sound asleep. A soft snore left the Demon's body. A copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar hung from his hand.

Y/N closed the door. "I think we should show them a picture of this the next time they complain about each other,"