#Raw Denim Jacket

[chromet]

DENIM TEARS × Stussy × Levi's Type 2 Raw Denim Jacket

[dumblr]

[freshthoughts2020]

[pictjoe]

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Custom Vest by Pixie Dust Denim Jackets

[denim-bias]

[louche-douche-deaux]

Darning a hole in my jacket, inside view.

Wear and repair.

[luveline]

hey jade! maybe this is a tad more angsty than you'd like but could I request prison!Spence getting a visit from bombshell!reader and Amy? or a phonecall with them? q

ty for your request <3 mom!reader, 1.4k

“Best behaviour,” you’re whispering, hand on Amy’s small back, her shoe digging into your hip. “I’m serious, baby. Big feelings are okay, but we can’t be loud. We can’t shout.” 

She frowns. Amy’s been a little against you these last few weeks. “I’m not shouting.” 

“I know.” You try and fail to divide your attention between her and the line you’re following. You almost miss the sound of the buzzer that ushers you forward. “Okay, I’m right here. I know everything has been super scary, and you’re my brave girl, but I’m right here. You can tell me anything. Okay?” 

She rubs your chin with her nose. “Okay, mom.”

“Okay. Let’s go see daddy!” you cheer under your breath, enthusing your voice with some false joy. 

Your nerves threaten to make you sick, but you have to be the put together one. This is the strife part of the marriage you’d signed up for. Though no one can blame you for handling it poorly —who could ever expect Spencer to be where he is right now? 

You carry Amy into the penitentiary visitor’s room with apprehension, shoulders stiff, fingers aching against your little girl’s rough denim jacket. The room is laid out strangely, but there’s a clear division between the prisoners and the visitors, though there’s no overarching perspex. There are dividers, sure, but you can touch him. You can see him sitting near the middle of the room, his hair in violent disarray, his eyes locked onto you already. 

You speed up your walking. 

Desperate, your knee knocks into a chair as you try to touch his face. 

Spencer lets you for a half a second, before he moves away. “You’re not allowed to touch me,” he says, voice laden with a raw apologeticness that threatens to trip you up immediately. 

“Daddy!” Amy says, squirming in your arms, her foot on the desk as she tries to shove herself over the short partition. 

Spencer, in a dads instinct, reaches for her without thinking. “Amy, Amy,” he says. 

“No touching!” a guard shouts clearly. 

Spencer pushes Amy gently back into your arms and holds his arms up in surrender. The guard veers his way, but walks off again when he sees Spencer’s compliance. 

“Daddy,” she whines, holding out her hand. 

“Sit down,” Spencer says to you. 

You sit down. The gap between both you and Amy and Spencer widens, her little legs pumping restlessly into your thighs. You’ll be bruised as a soft pear when you go home, but you barely feel it now. 

“Shh,” you say, wrapping your arms around her like a straight jacket. You don’t really have a choice. “Shh, baby, shh. Remember what mommy said, okay? We have to be quiet, or they won’t let us see your daddy anymore. We have to follow the rules.” 

“It’s okay,” Spencer says. He clears his throat. “Hey, Amanda?” 

She looks up in surprise at her full first name. “What?” she asks. 

“God, it’s so good to see you.” His voice thickens with emotion, but he keeps a tight handle on it. “I miss you so much, sweetheart. So much.” He looks at you. “I miss you,”  he says again. 

“We miss you too.” You wipe your nose. “It’s weird just being mom and Amy at home.” 

Weird isn’t the right word. Amy has cried herself sick five nights a week for the last month, because if her mom is home, why isn’t her dad? Why can’t she talk to him? Where did he go? 

“When can you be home?” Amy asks, reaching toward the glass again. 

Spencer looks around the room before he reaches over the half-partition to hold her hand. He gives you a look: watch my back. 

“I don’t know yet,” he says, holding her hand tightly, and giving her fingers little squeezes, “I’m sorry, princess.” 

You give him a look of your own: change the subject. 

You miss Spencer more than you’ve ever missed another person. There’s never been a feeling as acute as this in your life, you don’t know what to do with yourself when you aren’t with him. The only thing you can do is be Amy’s mom, and you’ve always felt that Spencer made you better at it. Without him, you’re struggling. 

He looks like he can tell. 

He diverts his attention from you to Amy again, ducking his head, his face posed into his most loving smile. “You’re so pretty, just like your mommy. You’re getting prettier every day, aren’t you? Mommy told me you’ve been helping make your own dinner. That’s amazing. You’re my smart girl.” 

“I make– made our favourite last night.” She struggles over ‘favourite’, but she’s as smart as her father. The words come easily. “We had, uh– butter chicken! And mommy made…” 

You blink a small tear from the corner of your eye. “I made garlic naan. We toasted them under the grill, didn’t we?” you ask with a sniffle. 

“Yes!” She looks back at you. “Dad’s plate.” 

You wipe your cheek quickly. “We kept you some,” you say, fighting as hard as you can to stop yourself from crying at the table. You can’t break down here, and you won’t. “Amy was worried you’d come home and be hungry, so we saved you some.” 

Spencer leans far over the table to squeeze your wrist. Behind him, the prison guard begins making their way to your table.

“Spencer.” You lean away before he can get caught. 

Spencer snatches his hand back to grip the partition. 

He smiles. “Angel,” he says clearly, looking you straight in the eye, “you’re doing so good. I can’t believe how amazing you are.” 

“I’m gonna fix this,” you promise. 

“No, no, angel, I just need you to look after yourself, and my princess.” He gives Amy a smile dripping with affection. “She needs lots of looking after. Don’t you, Amy? I know mommy’s doing such a great job looking after you.” 

“I miss you,” she says. 

“I miss you too.” 

“Can I have a hug now?” 

He looks back, right into the watchful gaze of the guard. He turns back with a smile that’s nearly convincing. “Not right now, I probably don’t smell very nice, and they don’t want me to get my gross smell on you.” 

“Ew, daddy.” 

“Ew,” he agrees, wrinkling his nose. “I wish I smelled like you and mommy. What smell is it today, baby?” 

“Persimmon,” she says. She preens at the suggestion that she smells good, relaxing against your chest. 

You kiss her temple. 

“Persimmon,” Spencer says. He couldn’t sound more proud. “You know what? Persimmons have lots of meaning. They’re a symbol of perseverance.” He remembers to dumb it down. “People who eat lots of persimmons are strong, they can get through anything. Maybe when you and mommy go home, you can share a persimmon, and I can eat one here, and together we’ll be strong while we wait for me to come home.” 

“You can come home now,” Amy says. “Come home with us!” 

“I can’t,” he says gently. “It’s complicated.” 

“I think daddy has the right idea,” you say, interrupting his explanation unapologetically, “I think we should go to the market when we leave and pick all the different fruits, and I’ll send some for dad here, and we can eat them at the same time.” 

“Like a picnic?” 

“I can make little sandwiches, and we’ll get your teddies,” you agree. “Whatever you want. But first, I think you need to tell daddy all about this week. What book have we been reading? Oh, and we got you some new shoes ‘cos your feet got bigger!” 

He smiles lovingly. “Oh, they did?” he asks softly. 

You know he’s gutted.

(Spencer gets out of prison almost two whole months later. He gives Amy a huge box of tangerines (with the white lie that they are persimmons, hard to find in DC, and your sweet girl doesn’t know the difference yet) with a new pair of converse wrapped in a red silk bow, promising that he will never miss another fitting. He doesn’t know where to start with you, that much is obvious, he’s so grateful to be home and he’s sick to his stomach with guilt, too. He doesn’t realise the only thing you needed was for him to come back. 

The diamond necklace is a nice gesture, though not half as valuable as his face pressed to your neck as he sleeps, Amy on his stomach, their long fingers sticky with orange peels. It makes all your silent crying worth it.)

[globalatomic]

G-Star Raw Flight Combat Sherpa Lined Jacket - Indigo Calvary Denim Dk Cobler

The Flight Combat Sherpa offers removable straps that are interchangeable. The tabs at the lower sides can be repositioned towards the snaps that are placed at the upper back neck. By use of the integrated tab and snap, the collar can be fixated. A soft touch teddy fabric is placed inside this jacket and collar. The flap pockets at the chest are combined with zip pockets at the waist. This flight jacket offers a front closure of snap buttons. Inside, a hanger loop and an additional pocket are added. The elasticated tape concealed at the inside allows for a tighter fit if preferred.

Straight Fit

Flat collar- integrated tab to allow for a raised collar: snap button set underneath

Long sleeves, slits and cuffs-hidden snap closure

Tabs positioned at the lower sides- interchangeable- other snaps placed at the upper back neck

Chest pockets with flap, angled waist pockets- zip closure

Straight hem- adjustable width, tape inside

Snap button closures

Indigo Cavalry Denim

This heavier weight denim offers a pronounced twill structure. It's dyed with pre-reduced indigo.

12.2 oz weight

Twill construction

100% Cotton

Lining body: 70% Polyester, 30% Polyester (Recycled), lining sleeves: 100% Polyester (Recycled)

Vintage Dark Cobler

This dark grey denim shade with a worn look aesthetic and subtle fadings is finished with a wax look that remains its soft touch.

Matching Triple A denim pants available for a co-ord set

Model wearing Small, boxier fit

[yeyinde]

Outlaw!Price, the enigmatic leader of the notorious and deadly 141 gang, who stumbles upon you one evening near the stables (attempting to steal the mare he had his eyes on, no less) as you try to sneak out of the city (and away from the awful, awful man you're supposed to be married to in the morning), and decides to help you get away.

But if you think it's altruism that's making him lend a helping hand to a stranger, you're wrong. In this life, he knows it's kill or be killed.

And most importantly:

finders keepers.

“How's this,” he begins, and everything inside of you screams to run. “I'll accompany you across the desert. Get you somewhere safe.” 

“Out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure,” you sneer, edging backwards. “As if I'm dumb enough to believe that.”

“Can't leave a maiden—” your scathing hiss makes his lips twitch beneath the thick moustache; “—all on her own like that. I know these parts like the back of my hand. No harm will come to you. That, you have my word for.”

“And what's that worth?” 

He dips his chin. “Far more than you could imagine, love.” 

You swallow. “I don't know. I don't trust you—”

“Smart,” he nods, drops the cigar on the ground before snuffing the end out with the heel of his boot. “But I ain't very patient. Better make up your mind quickly.”

“Well, in that case—”

“But," he cuts your scoff off with a low hum. "I'll put it this way for you: do you want me to be the one to accompany you across the desert or the one they'll pay, handsomely, tomorrow morning to drag you back home, mm?”

“You scoundrel—! You dirty, rotten—”

“It's business, love.”

“I don't have any money to even pay you to—”

His eyes are searing when they catch on the threads of your lace collar, razing over exposed skin like he's owed the privilege. You've never seen such hunger on a man's face before.

Your skin prickles. Heart sinking low with each rasping sweep of his eyes across your body. It's as if you're meat. Something to be bartered with. Bargained.

The rasp in his voice makes you shiver. “You're a smart girl. I'm sure you can figure something out.”

“I—”

“I'll leave it to you, then, mm?” He starts forward, then, chin ducking low into his collar to stare down at you through the wide brim of his hat. Each thud of his boots echo against the floor in haunting harmony with the metal clink of his spurs. 

More of his bulk is revealed as he steps out from the shadows and into the pale moonlight, and somewhere in your chest, the air becomes trapped. 

He's huge. Bigger, now, where most of him blended in, almost seamlessly, into the shadows. A massive mountain of a man. 

His shoulders seem to stretch the fabric of his vest and waistcoat taut, pulling sharply on the straining threads. The heavy brown of his jacket sweeps down to midthigh, the seam tucked behind the leather holster of his gun tied tight at his waist. The brass buttons of his dress shirt crease against the pull of his broad chest and barrelled stomach. The softness around his midsection speaks almost highly of a luxurious lifestyle—pure hedonism. The sort ladies back home whisper about. Violence, women, and booze—ruffians, the lot of them! But it seems to belie the power in his gait. In the flex of his thick, corded thighs bunching in the tightness of his denim trousers and the leather caps covering them.

He has the walk of a bear. Lumbering, sloven. A touch clumsy. 

And yet—

The softness about him hides the raw strength under the thick pelt. Deadly. The slow, meandering trawl of a man who knows, unequivocally, that he needn’t run or rush anywhere. 

It lodges somewhere inside of you. This knowledge, this fact. He'll outpace you in spades. Catch up no matter where you flee to. 

Your stomach folds, looping over itself. It's nausea, maybe. And something else—

He's so big. Burly. Thickened like the strong trucks of ponderosa pine. A man cut from the wilderness; made in the likeness of the savagery of the wild. The brutality of the desert, of mother nature herself. Kin to the affinity this land seems to have in taking every ounce of a man and leaving him bereft in the face of the looming unknowns in the vast desert.

None of the men you've ever met before look like him. Grizzled. Hardened.

His scarred, tanned skin speaks of a life living outdoors. On a horse, on the run—hard work made with his bare hands. You think the softness, the callous-free palm that gripped your fingers tight in a vice, and can't help but to lean, just a little, into him. Drawn there, like a moth to a flame.

There's something about this man that makes you tremble. Something that curls inside of your guts. Something deeper, darker than fear. Primal. Animalistic. There must be something wrong with you, then. Most know to run from the predators—not move closer.

He comes to a halt less than an arm's length away from you, close enough that you can scent the heavy musk of him so thickly in your nose. Something purely masculine—loam, humus—and yet unfathomably different from the men you've known your whole life. Horse, and sweat. Sun. The headiness of riding nonstop through the sprawling deserts of New Mexico. Leather, and gunpowder. 

The novelty of it all is enough to make you dizzy. And, as if to reinforce it, he leans down, the brim of his hat narrowly missing your forehead, and he rasps, guttural and dark, 

“and I do expect to be paid back in full, love,” his voice is felled timber. Low, and firm. “Or you'll find you don't like the consequences very much. Am I clear?”

The unmistakable iron in it snags on the tendrils of your resolve, pulling messily at the threads. No escape. It winds tighter, tighter— 

Still. 

Your only other option is to stay here, and in the morning, marry a man who made it abundantly clear that the sole use he has for you is to rebrand a dwindling legacy (women ought to be seen, not heard, darlin’, and I think it's high time someone teach you that); or— 

Make off on your own. Through the unmapped, untamed wilderness of New Mexico with nothing for protection except whatever you could reasonably steal away with uninterrupted, which. Isn't much. Not only that—this man, this outlaw, had made it abundantly clear that there would be a bounty on you come sunrise. One he'd be most eager to fulfil. 

Rock, hard place. No escape. 

You steel yourself, grappling with trembling fingers against the dwindling options in front of you, and offer a slow, jerking nod. 

He heaves a breath in response. “Good choice, love.”

It doesn't feel very much like one. It doesn't feel very good at all, even. 

In this little stable just outside of town, you sell your soul to the devil in New Mexico while the cicadas in the background scream through the ink black night. The sounds they make seem to ask, 

what have you done?

[mooglyyoon]

The Groupie

Synopsis: You meet Jungkook after one of his shows and makes you his personal groupie.

Warning: Degrading, Spanking, Hair pulling, Rough and raw sex.

Pairings: Rockstar!Jk x Fem!Reader

^^^^^^^^^^^

You feel your stomach start to bubble with nerves as you make your way through the crowd to get to the front of the stage. You had manage to get floor tickets and you definitely wanted to get your moneys worth. Getting to the front you press yourself against the metal gate that held you and the thousands of other people in barricade.

You came alone but managed to mingle with some of the girls around you waiting for the show to start. You’ve seen Jungkook live before but you’d never been this close. As dumb as it may sound, you always believed artists would find someone in the crowd they’re attracted to and make it slightly known. So you put some effort into your appearance tonight.

A black tube top, tight enough to expose your cleavage, a black ripped denim jacket with a black plaid miniskirt and black combat boots definitely matched the aesthetic of Jungkook. You did makeup that fit you and your outfit and the others around you definitely praised your looks.

You saw lights of the stage start to flicker and the vibration of the speakers close to you started to vibrate through your body. You turned fully and directed your attention to the male that made his way onto the stage.

The concert was amazing. You were jumping, laughing, singing, and during the last song, you were holding your shirt from falling, jumping to the beat and you swore Jungkook was watching.

He was singing with a subtle smirk on his face and he kept his gaze on you, watching the way you moved and shined under the flashing lights as you recited every lyric of his song. Jungkook swore you were heaven sent. He’d never seen someone so beautiful in such a setting.

The song ended and Jungkook left the stage and you left as quick as possible. Your makeup looked wet with sweat and you held your jacket in your hands as you walked out of the concert hall. Walking down the corridor you saw some girls standing out like they were waiting for something or someone.

And that’s when you noticed the male you came to see. The girls huddled around Jungkook and he brushed them off politely and kept his stride determined as he made his way to you.

There he stood right in front of you. You knew Jungkook had groupies. Everyone knew that. He never cared about what anyone thought of him and evidently, that’s what made him more attractive.

“Hi there.” He spoke roughly, voice slightly raspy from earlier. He looked down at you, his tattooed hand pushing your hair off your shoulders. “Jungkook..” You spoke up, a little stunned at the situation.

“Can I take you back with me, babe?” He spoke so confidently and so smoothly, you couldn’t help but nod your head. Immediately he wrapped his arm around your waist and walked you to his dressing room, ignoring the girls mean mugs at you.

He walked you into his room and locked the door quickly before anyone could interrupt. You set your jacket on the chair in the room and put your attention to him. “You’re so fucking stunning.” You heard him gruff as he stepped closer to you. He looked at you and put a hand on the small of your back, pushing you into him.

“Couldn’t help but need to see you after the show.” He tilted his head at you and you looked up at him, putting your hands on his toned chest. “Need to?” You squinted at him. This being confirmation of what you assumed earlier during the performance.

“Mm yes baby, need to.” He said and you felt his hand drop to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. Your jaw fell with a gasp and your eyes fluttered ever so slightly at the feeling. The pool between your legs growing by the second. Jungkook knew the affect he had on women, but with you, it was so different. You weren’t quick to give it up and he loved it so much.

“Jungkook.” The moan left your lips quietly and he smirked above you before he spun you around and bent you over the arm of the couch. You yelped when you felt your skirt being flipped up and your legs being spread roughly. The wet stain on your panties being exposed to him.

“Soaked already?” You practically hear the smirk in his tone as you felt your panties being pushed to the side. “Mm yes.” You muffled against the couch and felt his finger rub in the wetness. His finger rubbed against your clit and your moans sounded like sweet music to his ears.

“Gonna fuck this pretty cunt yeah? Make you cum like a dirty slut.” Your pussy squeezed around nothing at his harsh words. It turned you on more and you heard his pants being undone and soon you felt his wet tip at your entrance.

His hands parted your ass for him so he could get a better view and he continued to press his tip against you, teasing you. “P-Please…Need to feel you.” You begged, wanting him to stop stalling. You heard a chuckle and felt a stinging pain in your ass as the smack echoed through the room.

“Such a slut. Just wanna be filled up by a dick.” You moaned at his words and soon felt his dick fill you up quickly. He stretched you out so much and he didn’t even give you time to adjust when you felt his dick slamming back into you at a hard and quick pace.

“Fuuuuck so wet and tight.” His head was thrown back as your pussy basically suffocated his dick. The sounds in the room were nasty to say the least. The slapping of his hips against your ass, your moans with his grunts, the sound of your wetness with each thrust he made only caused you to grow wetter if it was even possible.

You felt your knees buckle as you squeezed around him. He slapped your ass against and spoke up, “Let me breathe fuck, so tight.” You squeezed again with a moan and you felt a hand reach to your hair and yank you up by a makeshift ponytail.

His thrusts didn’t stop however, he pulled you into his chest and it was as if he thrusts became relentless. “Sluts need to listen when they’re spoken to.” He groaned right into your ear and his hand went down to start roughly rubbing your clit. His fingers pressed down hard causing enough pressure to be too much and your knees start to buckle again.

“T-too much!!” You cried as tears pooled your eyes and a hard orgasm washed over you. He didn’t stop and only went harder. He pushed you back over the couch, his hand in the middle of your back as he continued fucking you. “Gonna make me fucking cum, shit.” He grunted and moved his hands to grip your hips roughly. Moving you back slightly onto him with each of his thrusts.

“P-please!” You almost screamed at the over stimulation and with a few more hard thrust you felt an emptiness between your legs as he quickly pulled out of you and came right on your ass. “Fuuuuck, such a pretty ass.” You felt his release coat your lower half as he finished.

He pulled his pants up and fixed himself as he grabbed a rag from the table and gently cleaned you up. He helped you stand even with the slight struggle and turned you to face him.

“Wanna see you again, yeah?” He spoke and slipped a paper with his number in the hem of your skirt and kissed your cheek quickly before walking to the door and unlocking it. Letting you leave, knowing he’d see you soon.

[msbigredmachine]

The Return (Jey Uso/OC)

You have your own reasons for wishing he just stayed his ass on Smackdown. Jey Uso/OC one-shot.

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 3.6k

-------------

His baby girl is a stunning sight to behold, so much so that he stops in his tracks to drink you in from his vantage point next to the equipment crates lined up along the hallway backstage. The long locks of your honey-blond wig frame your beautiful face. Your world title belt gleams on your shoulder, shining as bright as the star that you are. Your eyes twinkle and your smile is wide and warm as you chat animatedly with Raquel Rodriguez. That smile used to be preserved for him and him alone, once upon a time. 

He may have come over to Raw to break away from the Bloodline, but it’s not the only reason he’s made the jump. Cody brought it up during their rather bizarre phone call, the American Nightmare weaponizing this information in that annoyingly eloquent manner he has perfected…

“I know you’re looking for a fresh start…but not just in the ring…I’m pretty sure there's a certain new Women’s champion you’d like to reunite with…”

Jey has been separated from you for a long time, admittedly by his own doing. It’s been torture. The hours have felt like days and the days like weeks. He’s yearned for your touch, your scent, the warmth of your smooth, soft skin, the taste of your lips. He’s stumbled through the rougher days by thinking about you and what you mean to him. He’s fantasized, and even pleasured himself, to mental snapshots of his past sexual adventures with you, paying tribute to the most incredible orgasms he’s ever experienced. He misses it all; the shudders of your voluptuous body, the pull of your wet, tight pussy around his dick, your fingers dragging across his hair and skin as you come apart for him, as he comes apart for you. The pillow talk and sweet words and soft kisses as you bask in the afterglow together.

The memories are beautiful, but he doesn’t want just ‘memories’ anymore. He’s made mistakes and he wants to fix them, and he only hopes you will let him. Five months is way too long to be without his favorite girl. He has to tread lightly, because even the nasty glare of Drew McIntyre and the conflicted countenance of Matt Riddle are tame compared to the wrath of a woman scorned.

A chill zips down your spine out of nowhere. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A familiar men’s cologne invades your nasal ducts. The knowing look on Raquel’s face right before she slips away confirms the reason your body is reacting so strongly. Only one person does this to you, and he just debuted on Raw as a solo act.

Against your better judgment, you turn around. For what feels like an eternity, you remain frozen as his gorgeous, expressive eyes lock you in, bleeding out your surroundings and everything else until it’s just him, and you, and the pain and hurt he caused all those months ago. 

"Sup, champ," he greets, his hands in his jacket pockets, leveling you with his breathtaking smile. 

Clearing your throat, you break the trance and present him with your most platonic smile. “Welcome back. Cody must really like you to do what he did, considering y’all’s past.” 

Jey shrugs. “He surprised me, too. But whatever I gotta pay back to him, it’ll be worth it.” His eyes travel down the length of your body, appreciating the up-close view. You have on a cropped black tank top and a tight zip-up denim skirt that stops mid-thigh. Your legs are ensconced in knee high boots that have him biting his lip. However, the oversized biker jacket hanging halfway down your arms looks like it belongs to someone else, specifically a certain Señor Money in the Bank. Jey has heard the rumors. Apparently, you’ve moved on. He plans on testing that theory. 

“You look amazing, Y/N,” he compliments, his tongue darting out over his lips reflexively.

So does he. Your gaze wanders for a little longer than you’d like. The added bulk to his frame makes him look more intimidating and sexier. His abs are on full display behind his black hooded jacket. Then the dimples and the cheekbones and the full, kissable lips...He’s more mouthwatering than ever, calling out to you to take a bite.

When he moves in for a hug, you flinch and back away, maintaining your cold expression when he pulls back with disappointment. “Come on girl, don’t do me like that,” he sighs.

“Like what? Just cuz I said hi don’t mean I forgot about how you did me,” you answer coolly, “I’m being the bigger person here.” 

“Aw, babe, you breakin’ my heart right now.”

“Like you did mine?” you snap, “I ain’t your baby no more. You made sure of that.” He’s lucky you’re even addressing him after everything he’s put you through. Just this April after the Draft, Jey made the decision to leave you all alone on Raw and stay exclusively on Smackdown with his family. The same family who ultimately stabbed him in the back, something you would have never ever done to him in a million years. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back after two years of the most intense, deliciously chaotic entanglement in which you were a source of…comfort…for him, during his tumultuous time with the Bloodline. But, as you soon discovered, so was Kayla, and Liv, and Jakara from NXT, and some other chick named Rashida that he claimed was his childhood ‘bestie’. Somehow, you were roped into his weird harem of revolving women. But you stayed because he needed you…he told you so. He cared for you, he said, and like a fool, you believed him, because you wanted so badly for him to feel the way you felt about him.

Feel about him.

Shaking your head, you resolve to stand your ground. Nope. You will never be used again. You will not give into whatever game he’s trying to play, not this time. You don’t know why he’s come to Raw and you don’t care. You’re the Women’s World champion now. You no longer have room for fuckbois in your life and you need to let him know so.

Jey huffs, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “We need to talk,” he says.

“About what?”

“About us,” he whispers, licking his lips. “I miss you.”

His words cling to you, embracing you. But you shake them off. “Right. Miss me, or my pussy? Them other lame bitches ain’t tight or wet enough?”

Exhaling heavily, Jey meets your death glare head on. “Baby, I fucked up. I admit it. I been fuckin’ up when it comes to you. It’s on me, and I’m sorry. I wanna make things right between us, especially if we’re gonna be on the same show together.”

Scoffing at the words you’ve heard before, you toss your hair back haughtily. “Might be a little too late for that,” you inform him smugly.

“Really? Why? Cuz of your new man? Where his big ass at, anyway?” he taunts, looking over your shoulder for an unseen entity. 

“What are you talking about?” you retort, brushing off the guilt lurking for not being honest with him about Damian. Why feel guilty about someone who wasn't honest with you?

“I know about you and Priest. I know that’s his jacket you wearin’.”

You glare at him, incredulous. Is he seriously doing this? “You got no right to be jealous, Jey. Who I am or am not fucking is none of your business. And it’s not like he and I are official yet, so calm your tits.” You pause, wondering why you’re giving an explanation when you owe him nothing.

His lips pull into a smirk. “Huh. So you sayin’ I got a chance...”

“No, I did not say that!” You thought you could get through this unscathed. That a quick ‘Hello’ would suffice and you’d both move along. You didn’t expect him to lay it on you this thick and this quickly. He knows exactly what he’s doing, making you vulnerable with his sugary sweet words and his penetrating stare that sends a shiver of longing down your spine. 

"Stop looking at me like that," you hiss at him in that husky voice of yours that raises goosebumps all over his arms. 

“Can’t help it, baby. You beautiful as fuck,” he counters smoothly, stepping closer to you. 

“There you go again with the sweet talk. So am I supposed to just forgive you? Forgive and forget and fall right back into your arms? You got me fucked up, boy.”

It’s clear that you have no plans to make it easy for him. He doesn’t blame you. He’s done some unscrupulous things at your expense, none of which you deserved. But he can't stop his body from thrumming at the way your eyes speak volumes to him without using any words. He loves how your long lashes try to hide the real emotions swirling inside you, the hurt peeking through the bravado. You clutch your title to your chest, as though protecting yourself, hiding your body, forgetting that he’s since mastered every inch of it, every inch of you. He’s studied you long enough to detect your defense mechanisms. That’s how intimately he understands you. He has come to the realization that the connection he and you have is a lot more than just sex. His feelings for you run deep, far more than any other woman he’s messed around with.

He just needs to convince you that this is the case.

Taking your hand in his, Jey pulls you close, relieved when you don't shy away this time. He smiles down at you and has to stop himself from kissing your full lips. "Come kick it with ya boy later. Let's grab some dinner after the show. I got a lot of apologizing to do and I want to earn your trust back," he implores.

Just as you feared, your entire resolve starts to crumble at his plea. This is a bad idea. You’ve managed to recover from him once, and you risk relapsing if you allow this to happen. But god, he looks so good and smells even better. You can feel his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours. Your gaze flickers to his lips, remembering how soft they feel against yours, his tongue dancing sensually with your own…

Jey sees through your hesitation and cranks up the pressure. "I promise I'll be good, I'ma keep my hands to myself if that's what you worried about." He releases your hand for emphasis.

As always, when it comes to this motherfucker, your emotions prevail. “Fine,” you concede with a roll of your eyes. “I got a backstage segment with Rhea in twenty minutes and then I’m done for the night. I’ll meet you right here afterwards.”

The smile that lights up his face thaws your heart a little. “A’ight. I’ll be here,” he says.

“Dinner, Jey. Nothing else,” you remind him sternly.

“Scout’s honor. I gotchu,” he says, as you turn away. He looks on with a smirk as you walk down the hallway, sensing your reluctance to part from him. “Let your man know you’ll be home before midnight!” he calls out.

“Whatever, Uso,” you shout back. “And stop staring at my ass!”

Jey snickers at that. He likes that you know him so well.

-----------------

"Mmmm, fuck!"

Your groans trigger his own, the deep, guttural sound filling your ears, thick with need and exertion. Your fingers thread through his blond mullet, pleasure surging through you like potent aftershocks as he pounds into you with breakneck speed, the movements rocking the Chevrolet Equinox marooned in a secluded corner of the empty parking lot. 

"God, I've missed this good pussy," Jey pants heavily against your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, “Fuck, you so wet. Missed you so much, babe.”

Damn it, you should have known…Known it was all a big set up from the jump. You should have smelled trouble coming when he let you order your favorite meal from the obscure little diner you frequented whenever you came to town; that it was a trap when he opted to invade your space by cornering you in the booth and not sitting across from you; You should have known better than to let him rub on your thigh all through dinner, should have steered the conversations back to less intimate, sexual topics. You should have pushed him away when he leaned in for the kiss he’d been seeking all night, knowing damn well that once your lips touched, you’d become so desperate for him that waiting to get to the hotel would no longer be an option. You should have known he rented this big ass SUV because the backseat would be more comfortable and private than any dark alley you could sneak into. You should have known better than to think tonight would turn out any other way; He’s learned a few tricks from his Tribal Chief cousin and carefully and deviously orchestrated this outcome knowing that you could never resist the charms of the man you are, deep down, still hopelessly in love with.

Jey pushes your legs back further towards your head, taking advantage of your famed flexibility, and plows his thick, meaty cock in and out of your pussy, creating the sexiest, filthiest wet noises. Each thrust is deeper and more demanding than the last as he bears down on you, his big body hunched over yours, making you take every inch of him. His grunts and your moans are the only things spoken, the only language understood right now. The smell of sex permeates the thinning air inside the car, the heat of passion scorching, suffocating you both in the most sensuous of ways.

Jey looks down between your bodies and smirks at what he sees. "Damn, look at that, look how wet your pussy is. You definitely missed Daddy," he groans, parting your legs wider for a better view. "This dick feel good, right baby?

“Aw, yes Daddy, you feel so good, fuck me,” your words trail away with a whimper, and you sink your nails into his newly tatted back as he obliges your request. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, lost to the sensation of his big dick plunging deeper inside your wet heat.

Truth be told, you have never had a lover like Jey Uso. Rough. Tender. Chaotic. Gentle. Primal. Passionate. He is all-consuming, a Samoan whirlwind of sexual energy and skill and stamina. He makes you feel like nothing else matters but you and him and the orgasmic moments you share. One look into his darkly luminous eyes and you’re gone every time, a puddle of ruined panties and pussy juice. He never fails to turn you upside down and inside out, expertly coaxing endless orgasms from you. You’re his marionette and he’s the puppet master, the true owner of your body and your soul and your entire being. 

And this is a stark reminder of that.

“Damian fuck you like this? Huh?” Jey asks, his sweaty brow furrowed with lust and a hint of curiosity as he scouts out his competition.

Definitely not. Damian is not bad in bed - quite the opposite, in fact. But his efforts can never compare to this. Too wrapped up in ecstasy to speak, you manage to shake your head no at the question, but it's not enough for Jey. His palm slips from your breast to swat your inner thigh, causing a stinging pain that reverberates through your heated skin and surges straight to the pressure point of your clit. 

“Use your words, baby,” he orders. He wants to hear you say it, to confirm what you’ve both known all along.

“No, Daddy…” you answer, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as he angles his hips, grinding himself right up against your g-spot the way you like it, his long, determined strokes hitting just right... 

“I know he don’t, cuz he don’t know this pussy like I do. This my pussy, baby girl. I can tell you missed this dick too, you grippin’ the shit outta me…”

As much as you hate to admit it, he’s spot on. You haven’t been fucked like this in so long and your kitty is singing for joy. This animalistic side of him as he drives into you is making you delirious. Waves of pleasure wash over you as he reverts to hard, steady, pounding thrusts, lodging his dick in your stomach. You glide your dainty hands all over his chest and abs, letting your fingernails scrape his sweat-slick skin. The slight shudders of his body and his whimpering groans as he reacts to your touch leave you all giddy inside. You dare to cradle his bearded face in your hands and hold his gaze. What stares back at you is so deep and intense and full of emotion, reflecting everything you’ve felt for each other in the past two years. 

“Jey…” you whisper after a long, charged moment.

“My baby girl,” Jey breathes back, “I lo-”

You don’t let him finish, tugging him down for a sloppy, unhurried kiss, winding your hips to match his thrusts and ride that edge with him as he moans into your mouth. This spurs him to nudge your thighs even further back with your toes touching the roof of the SUV, opening you up to more pummeling thrusts until your legs tremble in the air and you have to break the kiss from how breathless he's leaving you.

“Fuuuuck!”

“Uh huh, you comin’ for me, baby?” he asks, brushing your lips together again as his own release creeps ever closer. “I know you 'bout to nut. Lemme have it, come for Daddy.”

With one hand, he grips the seat above your head, his hips snapping into you, drilling you faster, harder. You're soaring higher and higher, and then, you crash, contracting around his throbbing shaft as you come so hard you start to convulse. Stars explode behind your eyelids as your arms tighten around his neck, holding on for dear life as you tumble headfirst into the sweet cavern of euphoria.

“Ahhh shit, goddamn, Y/N…” Jey moans along with you as his dick twitches inside your warm depths. You’re still coming all over him, your pussy squeezing and suckling every inch of him to the point that his body tenses on top of yours, and he grunts out, "Gah, finna come!"

Ripping himself out of you, he scrambles upright and pumps his slippery dick in his hand, releasing himself on your lower belly. Both of you moan at the sight of his warm, milky cum gushing all over your brown skin. His groans of pleasure are music to your ears. He keeps massaging his cock, ensuring he’s all emptied out, while his other hand runs up and down the back of your upturned thigh in a sensual, soothing touch.

“Fuck, I almost nutted in you. This pussy too damn good, babe," he pants, resting the semi-hard length on your pussy lips. Feeling it pulse temptingly between your folds, you close your thighs together before the thought of going another round can creep in. You squirm into a seated position and slowly start to clean yourself up, adjusting your clothes as Jey does the same with himself. When you’re both done, his arms come around you as he sweeps his lips, soft and inviting, over the crook of your neck, your cheek, and finally landing on your lips. Inevitably, you melt into his embrace, enjoying the warmth and affection that you’ve needed from him for months.

“You wanna know the real reason I switched brands?” he speaks up after a few moments, waiting for you to look at him. “It wasn’t just to get away from my family. I did it for you.”

The notion has lingered in your mind ever since you saw him return two nights ago at Payback, but to hear it uttered out loud ignites a reaction neither of you expect. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that,” you warn, shaking your head.

“Do what?”

Tears inexplicably fill your eyes as you speak. “That. You do it all the time. Say shit that sounds sweet and amazing only for you to do the opposite. I’m over that shit, okay?” 

A look of hurt clouds his handsome face. “Baby, I know I made a lot of mistakes that I regret. I own that shit. I also know I’d be a fool to fuck this up again. Real talk.” His beautiful eyes are sad and hopeful and pierce your soul. “I really miss us, baby girl. Truth is, I don’t feel right with no one else but you. I miss you. Don't you miss me?”

At this juncture, lying is pointless. “I do,” you admit, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. “But I can’t handle you hurting me again, Jey. I won’t let you.”

Jey reaches up to catch the tear with a brush of his thumb, letting his hand linger on your soft cheek. “I know. That’s why I’m here. For you. I’m sorry about everything and I want us to start over. Can we start over?” He gazes intently at you, wanting to say more, but he holds back, shelving it for a more appropriate time. “Take me back. Give me another chance, baby. I’ll be better than I’ve ever been, I swear to you,” he continues softly. 

This man always makes you question how strong you really are. Each time you think you've escaped, he finds you and reels you back in, like steel to a magnet. Your brain wants to reject him, but your heart is desperate for him, craving to fall back into him and his empty promises. He has a hold on you that you probably will never be able to break free from, and maybe it’s time you accept this fate.

“I’ll think about it,” you conclude.

“I can grovel if you want. That's fine with me, baby. I’ma grovel as long as you want me to. I know you like the things I do when I’m on my knees.” He winks cheekily as you gasp, blushing profusely.

“Jey!”

“Matter of fact, you comin’ back to my suite with me. I’ma show you just how good I can grovel,” he adds. His straight white teeth sink into his bottom lip, and the heat that simmers in his eyes leaves you weak-kneed.

“Oh my god. What am I gonna do about you?” you lament.

His chuckle is joyous and relieved as he holds you tighter in his strong arms and repeatedly, playfully kisses your cheek. “Whatever you want, my baby girl. Whatever you want.”

You roll your eyes in response, but you fail at masking your grin as the thrill of reuniting with your man warms you all over. You figure that a couple extra hours in his company won't hurt. One night only.

Just tonight.

That's it.

Yeah.

THE END

-----------------

Thoughts? Should she believe him?

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[bullet-prooflove]

For Kayce Dutton

“Thinkin' 'bout those sunsets that bled into jean jacket nights”

Tagging: @kmc1989 @midnightheat @queenslandlover-93 @littledreamer9211 @spooky-librarian-ghost @atomic-art-dragon @sleepystoner326 @themarvelousmaks

Companion Piece to:

Bonfire Heart

You spend a week in Kayce’s bed and he fucks you every which way he can think of. The shit the two of you get up to, it’s filthy. His days may be full of tough, labouring work but his nights, they’re full of a passion just as raw and as wild as he is.

It’s on that final evening before you leave that he wakes up from a post coital doze to find you sitting on his porch in nothing but one of his shirts and a cowboy hat. You’re watching the sunset in the distance, the glow chasing along your skin as you smoke a cigarette. Already he can feel the temperature in the air dropping so he snags his denim jacket off the peg alongside the door before draping it around your shoulders. His hands linger for a moment, squeezing lightly before he takes a seat alongside you.

“I haven’t felt this alive in a long time.” He finds himself telling you as he looks out across the pasture. “Not since my wife left.”

“I’m glad to have been of service.” You say with a humous lilt before you hand him the cigarette, watching as he takes a drag.

“What happens now?” He asks you, his back coming to rest against the porch post as he taps the ash onto the ground. “Do I take your number?”

“No, we’re not doing that.” You say, tucking your hands into the pockets of Kayce’s jacket. “This was just a mutually beneficial arrangement because I don’t fuck the people on my team.”

“Well can it be mutually beneficial back inside?” He asks you as he blows out a smoke ring. “Because seeing you in my jacket is getting me hard again and I’ve rather the rest of the ranch don’t see my bare ass when I fuck you in it.”

You laugh then and Kayce watches as you raise to your feet, the hem of the shirt your wearing riding up a little, revealing everything he wants to get his mouth all over.

“Get inside Corienne.” His voice rough with desire as he stubs out the cigarette. “I want you on the kitchen table this time.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon pt. 5

synopsis: brooks is in the crowd to watch Y/N’s match, but The Judgement Day is not thrilled when they see him. 

tags: violence, chair shots, good ole’ wrasslin’, angst. fem!reader, ex!brooks, poly!judgement day

A/N: i was gonna wait but i needed to put this out there bc i’m a sick individual...can i just say the love and support on not just this writing but others i’ve posted has been amazing and it makes my day when people message and send requests? literally ty all so much, i would kiss you all on the foreheads if i could 

mentions: @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​

Y/N spent the rest of her time backstage before her match trying to relax. Her conversation with Brooks and the reactions of her partners were doing little to nothing to ease her nerves, but she knew she just needed to go out and do what she did best. She spent some time to herself getting ready before the others came back, and she smiled up at them gently as she laced her boots. Rhea took an eyeliner pen and did her signature TJD underneath one of Y/N’s eyes and Finn stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders to help loosen her up. “So this Brooks character…” Finn began. “He’s going to be out there watching your match?”

As Rhea finished her makeup, Y/N nodded and rolled her shoulders as Finn loosened her up. “He’ll be out there somewhere. And I’m asking you guys not to cause trouble with him.” Dominik scoffed as he tied a purple bandana around his neck. “We can’t make any promises, but we��ll think about it.” He smirked. Y/N wasn’t about to let her partners make a fool of themselves at ringside, so she turned to look at Dom with a small frown. “I’m serious, Dominik. I understand why you guys want me to distance myself from things in my past but I just…h-he’s a good guy.” She said softly. 

For being the largest of the group, Damian was also the biggest softy. He immediately took note of Y/N’s reaction and gave Dom a light slap to the arm. “She has a match soon and you really think this is the time to act like that?” He scolded Dom, who blushed and put his hands up in defense. Rhea rolled her eyes at the two of them and moved to finish getting herself ready. “We’ll behave as long as he behaves.” She said, deciding that would be the end of the conversation. “And you two need to quit fucking around in the corner, we have places to be.” Y/N closed her eyes as Rhea mothered everyone in the room, working to calm herself down and focus on her upcoming match against Candace LeRae. 

Eventually, The fivesome began to make their way to gorilla for Y/N’s match. She was in the middle, Damian and Dominik to her left and Rhea and Finn to her right. Damian and Rhea were definitely the most protective of Y/N and always placed themselves right next to her when possible. She adjusted her pink denim jacket one more time, placed her cherry lollipop in her mouth, and hit the cues with her partners as their lights and music hit. There was something about coming out to the crowds in this new persona, something about the energy that shifted when they all walked in a room…it made Y/N feel incredible. She could barely put it into words how it all felt. But she needed to channel that energy, as this match was huge for her in claiming her spot in the Women’s Division on Raw while also giving Brooks a show in the audience. 

When Brooks said he was going to be front and center, he wasn’t kidding. As The Judgement Day came down to the ring, she immediately took note of where he was and smiled at him; where Y/N thought she would be nervous seeing Brooks during this match, she now felt his presence comforting her. The other four also took note of him and where he was in the audience, but Y/N was able to distract them and have them stand elsewhere during the match. They all begrudgingly did what she asked, but still couldn’t promise they wouldn’t get into any mischief down the road. 

Truth be told, Y/N was also going to cause some chaos and rile them up. They couldn’t control her every move and she was going to continue being the same character she always had been, even before The Judgement Day came into her life. Y/N took the lollipop from her mouth and walked to where Brooks was standing, smirking as she held it out for him and placed the candy into his mouth. The audience around them cheered, having been aware of the history between the two, and Y/N went into the ring like nothing happened. The faces on her partners were not the most thrilled they’d ever been, but she knew she could defend her decision backstage if they had words about it. 

Once the match started, Y/N and Candace were both on a roll. Candace’s acrobatic, more athletic moves were a nice contrast to Y/N’s harsher striking and submission style. Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn all kept to themselves at ringside and even stayed on the other side away from Brooks. But that didn’t erase the fact that every so often they would glare at him; at one point Rhea was even mockingly waving at him to get some kind of reaction. But Brooks wasn’t giving in, he stayed focused on the match and cheered Y/N on while he kept the lollipop in his mouth. Every so often, when she wasn’t looking at her partners, she would look for Brooks and he’d give her a reassuring nod and smile. This was exactly what she needed. At one point though when Y/N fell out of the ring after a pretty nasty hit, Brooks was front and center at the barricade making sure she was okay. 

“Baby, you good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice as he held his hand out for you to get back up. Without a second thought Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled herself up, smiling like the giddy girl she was whenever he’d help her in the past. Fuck, I can’t let him go. She thought to herself. Y/N turned her head though, when her four partners saw was Brooks was doing and made her way to the other side of the ring. “Don’t even think about it.” She told them, shaking her head and letting go of Brooks’s hand. “It’s fine, just go back over there.” Of course, Rhea wasn’t listening. She continued to step closer to them until she was standing in front of Brooks, even though Y/N was trying to keep her away. “If I were you, I’d stay away from our girl.”

Brooks shook his head and laughed in Rhea’s face. “She may be your girl now, but she was mine when no one else gave a fuck about her.” Y/N wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore but was now focused on the three boys. “I’m serious, go!” She knew she couldn’t handle being distracted like this, so she got back in the ring to continue her match. But when she did, Candace was ready to end the entire match and swept under her feet to bring Y/N to the ground. She was going to take advantage of her opponent being distracted, and once Y/N was back on the ground Candace climbed the ropes for a moonsault. Somehow Y/N was able to kick out at the two count, and that brought the attention of The Judgement Day and Brooks back to the match. “I’m not finished with you.” Rhea pointed at Brooks before following the boys back to the other side of the ring. “Come on, Y/N! Get up!” Her partners started to cheer as she took her sweet old time getting to her feet again. 

After everything that just occurred, Y/N was raging. Five people she loved and cared about almost made her lose one of the biggest matches of her career thus far, and she wasn’t about to let any of them live it down. Once she was on her feet again, Y/N started to pace and watch Candace’s every last move. “Get up!” She yelled at her opponent, standing in the corner of the ring to watch her. Once Candace was also up on her feet, Y/N came at her with a spear that practically flipped her inside out and positioned herself for a submission move Damian had been working on with her. Almost identical to a sharpshooter but with a slightly different leg position, Y/N locked Candace into the hold and put all of the pressure on her back. From there, it was only a matter of seconds before Candace tapped and Y/N was announced as the winner. 

She dropped Candace back down onto the mat and smiled as she caught her breath; Y/N didn’t even realize that her partners had made their way back over to Brooks in the crowd and immediately began to attack him. Brooks didn’t even have enough time to defend himself, as Damian lifted him over the barricade and they started to kick him while he was on the ground. “What are you doing?” Y/N yelled from the ring, watching as Finn picked Brooks up and threw him into the ring for everyone to see what they were doing.  “Step aside, Princess. He needs to be taught a lesson.” Rhea warned, stepping in front of Y/N as if to block her from getting to Brooks. But Y/N was small and quick, so she was able to get around Rhea and stand between Brooks and the other members of the group. “Don’t hurt him, okay? He didn’t do anything!” She begged, her hands up and Brooks gently reaching out to hold her ankle as a way of thanking her. 

The four of them were fuming. Finn was the first to speak up as he watched what was going on. “Remember what we told you, Y/N.” He warned softly. Brooks began to slowly get himself back to his feet and stood behind Y/N, a gentle hand on her waist this time. “Think about what’s best for you. Think of all we’ve done for you.” Finn said again. Dominik was already cracking his knuckles at the sight of someone else touching their girl, and steam was coming from Damian’s ears. No one touched their girl, and she was only making them more upset the longer she went without making a decision. 

Y/N looked back and forth between Brooks and The Judgement Day. Finn was right; the four of them had done so much for her and every day showed how much they truly cared about her even if some of their actions were flawed. They took her under their wing when barely anyone else in the company gave a shit about her. But on the other hand, Brooks had always served as the person she could confide in when she was struggling. He was the first person who made her feel beautiful in and outside of the ring. But where was he when she needed someone to stand up for her in NXT? Where was Brooks when Y/N doubted herself and debated leaving this company? She was stuck between two parts of her life, and they were all expecting her to make her decision. 

As the crowd roared around them, telling Y/N what decision to make, she slowly turned her back to The Judgement Day and wrapped her arms around Brooks’s shoulders in a tight hug. Y/N buried her face in his neck as he picked her up, his body relaxing into hers and holding her as tight as he could. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” He said in her ear as they slowly stepped away from the four (clearly pissed) individuals in the ring. Brooks even put his hat back on her head like they always did when she won matches; he was just happy to see Y/N was picking the right side. 

However, he had no clue what was coming his way. 

Brooks gently placed Y/N back on her feet and kissed her forehead before glaring at The Judgement Day from over her shoulder. He didn’t even say another word to them, even though they were already hopping out of the ring and climbing underneath it to find whatever weapons they could. Brooks protectively put Y/N behind him, watching Damian and Finn who had stayed in the ring and started to slowly move closer to the two of them while Rhea and Dominik tossed a couple chairs into the ring. Y/N being behind Brooks was the perfect opportunity for her to make it clear which side she was on, because she quickly dropped to her knees and delivered a low blow to Brooks. 

Y/N’s four partners immediately began to smile at her; Rhea was dying of laughter, pointing at Brooks as he fell to the canvas holding his manhood. Y/N looked down at him, his hat still on her head, and her own sadness and anger written all over her face at the decision she’d made. She had to prove herself to her partners, and that meant trusting them and their plan for her. Once Brooks was back on the ground the boys began to attack him again, and this time Dominik pulled Y/N into a hug as they watched. At one point when Brooks got up on his knees to hopefully defend himself, Rhea delivered a chair shot to his back. 

The four of them turned to Y/N once they all had a turn giving Brooks a piece of their mind. Damian held out a chair to her and smiled. “Finish it off, princesa. End it.” He told her. And while Y/N didn’t immediately take the chair, she eventually did and walked in a circle around Brooks’s writhing body. “Where were you when I needed you?” Y/N asked Brooks as she looked down at him. “You didn’t care about me. You never did.” The look on Brooks’s face said otherwise, but Y/n knew she needed to end this. She looked at each of her partners before lifting the chair up and delivering the harshest chair shot she could manage to Brooks’s upper body. 

She dropped the chair before taking off Brooks’s hat and dropping it onto his body, wiping away the one singular tear that had rolled down her cheek. The Judgement Day rolled out of the ring five deep, Damian pulling Y/N to his chest as they walked up the ramp to go backstage and Rhea continuing to taunt Brooks from a distance. They were all proud of Y/N and she was proud of herself, but the next step of this process was grieving the relationships she had to let go of in order to follow the plan. While The Judgement Day was prepared for that to happen, Y/N had no clue what was about to happen. 

[pictjoe]

Beauty & Youth United Arrows Japan

Size Large

grailed.com/grageuniqform

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Best of Both Worlds Denim Moto Jacket from Akira (sold out)