#Seth Rollins one shot

[perplexedflower]

Waking Up With The Shield - 2/3: Never Too Late For Love

Fandom: WWE.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Seth Rollins x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 1,377.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was peacefully asleep, silently lost in a sea of dreams, until I woke up out of the blue when I suddenly felt something rather heavy land on my face, bringing me back to reality right away.

"S-Seth...?" I weakly asked in a murmur.

With some difficulty, I opened my eyes as much as I could and instantly saw his arm had fallen on my face, covering one-half of it.

"Good God..." I murmured once more as I closed my eyes back. "Really, honey?"

With all of my morning strength, I grabbed hold of his limb with both of my hands and lifted it from my face before I set it to the side, next to my head: only then, when I turned my eyes to the rest of the bed did I realize he had actually invaded the totality of my side of the mattress with his entire body, one of his legs lying over one of mine, which had become completely numb by then. Additionally, his pillows had somehow slipped from underneath his head to have instead spread all over the bed and he had unconsciously pulled most of the sheets to himself, leaving half of my body uncovered. As I let out a sigh, I leaned to the side a little and grabbed hold of it: with a firm grip, I managed to pull the blanket closer to me by a few inches, which made Seth move slightly in his sleep.

Although his lips muttered something incoherent in a voice that was so quiet it was almost inaudible, he was still sound asleep, not showing any sign of waking up any time soon without me intervening. So, as I shook my head slowly, I turned my whole body to him and put my hands on his arms.

"Seth... Come on, wake up already." I said with a slight exasperation as I began to shake him in an attempt to force him to wake up.

When I saw my attempt had resulted in failure, I sighed for the second time.

I know he isn't doing this on purpose... But mornings like these are still so hard for me to get used to. I thought to myself as I stared down at his sleeping face.

Although he was an athlete who followed an intense training routine on a daily basis and regardless of how energetic he always was during the day, Seth happened to be a rather lazy person, a trait of his personality he rarely showed to anyone but me, considering I was around him more often than others. And that included waking up late whenever he could, whenever he had nothing planned, a concept I did not agree on: in my opinion, it was more productive to wake up early in the morning, as it allowed for better efficiency. But I knew Seth could not be helped, he was simply being himself.

As I continued to shake his arms, his body reacted just slightly, but I was still not getting any verbal response; after a minute or so, I eventually gave up and let go of him, my body slowly falling back down on the mattress. With my head now back on my pillow, I turned my gaze to the side, to my bedside table, and extended my arm toward it. I reached for my phone, grabbed it, brought it to my eyes, then looked at the time: 10 AM.

"Ugh, I knew it..." I said with yet another sigh.

With my phone still in my hand, I turned my head on my pillow and stared at Seth, his eyes still closed.

"Seth, do you have any idea what time it is?" I asked, although I expected no answer to come from his mouth.

"Yeah..." He feebly whispered.

"Oh, really? What time, then?"

"The time for me to sleep some more..." He answered as he brought the bedsheets against his face to cover it.

Upon hearing his reply, all the muscles in my body unclenched as I exhaled a deep breath.

"... You have no idea how much I'm fighting against the urge to hit you, right now." I let out as I rubbed my eyes with my hand.

But just as I covered part of my face, I felt a grip on my shoulders, and before I even knew it, I found myself in Seth's tender embrace.

"Please don't be mad at me, love." He murmured against my skin in an endearing tone of voice.

My ears listened to the soothing sound of his voice, which made me close my eyes and rest my head against his chest: whenever I was in his arms, my tension would always be eased, the warmth of his hugs calming me down and appeasing me, no matter which negative emotion was flowing through my body and infesting my mind. And he knew well taking me in his embrace meant I would not be able to stay mad at him for much longer.

"... You still love me?" He shyly asked me after a minute of silence, his words accompanied by a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Of course I do, silly." I replied with a gentle chuckle while I caressed his arm. "You know it would take more than that for me to be truly angry at you."

As I said those words, a sudden thought flashed through my mind, freezing the palm of my hand in place.

"However... Did you take care of cleaning the kitchen last night before you went to bed?" I asked him, my head no longer against his chest and my eyes looking up into his. "Like you were supposed to?"

"Nope..." He answered with a yawn, his voice expressing slight shame.

Feeling exasperation invade my brain again, I rolled my eyes as I threw my head backward slightly.

"Of course you didn't..."

In an instant, I freed myself from Seth's grasp, pushed the bedsheets aside, and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"All right, I'll do it myself, then." I declared while I rubbed my eyes again.

But before I could get up, I felt one of his hands grab the bottom of my t-shirt, which made me turn around on instinct.

"No. Please, sweetheart, stay." He said with eyes that expressed genuine desire. "I promise I'll take care of it later, really. But for now... I want you to stay in bed with me, just a little longer."

I stared into his eyes for a few seconds before I sighed softly and lay back down on the bed.

"Fine, you win."

My body was once again against his, my head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder, Seth's arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Thank you." He responded with an audible smile. "I know it can be somewhat annoying to you when I sleep in, but I only like to do it so we can share moments like this one. Moments when I have you in my arms, while comfortably lying in bed, before our respective days start. Having you this close to me reminds me of just how much I love you."

With the palm of his hand on my hair, he gently pulled my head away from his chest so that he could look down at me: with an affectionate smile, I reached for his dark, long hair and combed it with my fingers, while our eyes met. I could read a spark within his, which smiled at me, and mine smiled back.

"I love you, too." I said in return while my hand drifted down onto his cheek.

As my fingers traced his skin, my palm came in contact with his beard, rough yet soft, and the look in my eyes saddened.

"I'm sorry I'm always so pushy with you, love." I confessed with a hint of shame. "I know you don't like it..."

"Well, I know I can be annoying at times, so, I forgive you."

The two of us chuckled in unison, our laughs filling the loving atmosphere that reigned in the bedroom. I snuggled against him, the limbs of our bodies tangled up, and smiled happily.

"You're right..." I whispered as I closed my eyes. "Let's stay here a while."

[dirtywrestling]

Hatred to Lust - Seth Rollins (18+)

Commission: @thepalaceofmelanie

Pairing: Seth Rollins x Melanie

Summary: Melanie is the General Manager of Raw. Malanie and Seth Rollins do not like each other but clearly have feelings for one another only to lead to hot sex in her office.

Warnings: 18+, General Manager!Melanie, Arguing, Fighting, Smut, Foul Language, Rough Sex, Office Sex, Oral (Reader Receiving), Light Spanking, Eating Out Creampie, Minors DNI

Word Count: 2,113

“How could you be so fucking heartless?” A deep voice snarled in my direction.

 Looking up from my phone I arched an eyebrow towards the Kingslayer, Seth Rollins. The man had a reputation here on Raw, he was the golden boy of the company some would say. I wouldn’t say he was anything special, but he did make the ratings skyrocket and money into the business. I sighed, clicking the button on the side of my phone to lock it. I shoved it into my pocket. “What do you want, Rollins?” The annoyance in my voice should have warned him I was in no mood to deal with his brattiness.

“I want to know why you made Ambrose turn against me!” He snapped, holding the Intercontinental and tag team title close to his sweaty body. 

“We need a storyline between you two. Plus, why does it matter? You got your gold, be happy. Most of these guys would literally kill you to have that around their waist. Now,” I pulled my phone out once more, remembering I had unfinished business on there. I unlocked my phone, “if you’ll excuse me.” I turned away from the superstar and started to walk down the hallway, my heels clicking against the tile floor. 

“Wait, no.” He quickly followed me, grabbing my wrists, spinning me around to become face to face with him. “Why’d you make Ambrose turn on me the night Roman announces he has leukemia?” There was anger and sorrow in his eyes.

Looking into Rollin’s hazel eyes, seeing the fire in them made me realize maybe doing this storyline tonight was a bad idea. We just got news that Roman has cancer and would be out for a long time, while he recovered, Dean and Seth just did win Tag Team Titles, it was a good night. Why couldn’t I have just left it at that? The man before me was clearly heartbroken about it. 

“Rollins please, it wasn’t my idea.” I tried to convince him, the writers thought it would be a great idea to keep the fans watching.

“Bullshit.” He snapped, his grip on my wrist tightened, making me wince in pain.

“Seth you’re hurting me.” I cried out, grabbing at his wrist trying to pry him off of me.

Seth looked down, his eyes softening up as he let go. “You’re the General Manager, most of this stupid shit is your idea.” Sadness filled my eyes as he insulted my work. 

“I did it because it would bring the ratings up and you turned on the Shield so why not have Ambrose go heel and turn on you?” I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring up at him. “Face it Rollins, your time is coming up, it’s Ambrose’s time to shine.” I snarled at the superstar. The fire in his eyes flamed up once again, redness appeared on his cheeks and neck along with the tip of his ears. Grabbing my hand again he pulled me into my office. “What the hell, Rollins?”

Seth locked the door and faced me. “I’m so sick and tired of your shit, somebody needs to teach you a lesson and it looks like that somebody is me.” He tossed the two titles on the nearest chair. “Bend over your desk.” He demanded, standing tall in front of me.

“Excuse me?” I laughed in his face. “Move, Rollins I’m not playing games. I have a show to run.” I tried to push him out of my way, he wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t make me tell you again, Melanie.” Seth’s eyes pierced down at me, nearly making me scared of him.

Gulping nervously, I slowly stepped backwards, away from him and towards my desk. Papers and other items scattered over the surface. I did what he demanded me to do, bending over the smooth oak desk. My stomach and breast pressed against some loose pencils and papers and other office supplies. Seth slowly stalked behind me, clearing everything off of the desk with one swift sweep of his hand. Everything clanked loudly on the floor, making me flinch from the noise.

“Always so organized.” He chuckled. Kicking my ankles apart, making my legs spread out a bit more. “Always wearing the tightest skirts.” He pushed up my mini skirt over my ass. “Naughty girl, no panties.” His hand came down onto my ass, making me jolt forward with a slight yelp. Grabbing my hair, pulling me up so my back was now against his chest. “As much as I love seeing your breasts in these…” He grabbed my dress shirt and tore it off, buttons flying in different directions as my breasts bounced free from the tight confinement. 

Seth tossed the torn fabric somewhere in the office. “You look so sexy with those heels on.” Seth growled, admiring my half naked body. “I think I’ll fuck you with them on.” 

“You’re going to fuck me?” I gasped, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me down onto the desk once more, my cheek pinned against the cool surface. 

“Of course I’m going to fuck you.” He licked his lips, tracing my naked body with his rough hand. “Always getting me so fucking hard whenever I argue with you.” My eyes widen to feel his crotch pump up against my ass, only for me to realize he was hard underneath his wrestling pants.

“So you do argue with me on purpose!” I just realized why he would argue with me about the scripts for Raw or anything else he would bitch and complain with me about literally anything!

“That’s just between you and me, sweetheart.” He growled in my ear, his teeth sinking into my ear lobe and tugged slightly. “So, I’ve decided that I’m going to fuck the little attitude out of you.” Kicking off his wrestling boots he pushed his wrestling pants around his ankles. His large erection rubbed up against the slit of my entrance. 

Turning my head slightly, I looked over my shoulder to see Seth fisting his cock, pumping it slowly in his hands while the tip of his cock nudged up against my opening. “No touching.” He let go of his hard cock, grabbing my wrist and placing them on the sides of the table. “This is a punishment.” I whined at his demands. “No whining.” He added in.

“So what can I do?” I huffed, my cheek against the cool oak once more.

“How about you relax and enjoy my cock?” Seth grabbed both of my cheeks, spreading them slightly and guided the tip of his cock past my wet lips, the teasing of his cock head made me squirm a bit. “Quit moving.” He grunted , gripping my waist with his rough hands. His cock slowly inching its way into my pussy. 

“Fuck!” I squealed out, my pussy wrapped around his cock tightly, when Seth pulled out a low moan escaped his lips. 

“So fucking wet.” He hissed out in pleasure, he put more pressure on my hips, pinning them against the wooden desk as he moved his hips faster. Grateful that I had my heels on, I was a bit more taller for him to pound into me. Down side, the heels were killing my ankles as I was on my tip toes. The thought of my ankles hurting left my thoughts as Seth hit up against my g-spot.

“Right there, yes!” My nails dug into the edge of the desk, leaving little crescent moons markings. 

“That’s it baby, keep screaming for me.” Seth’s right hand left my waist, giving my ass a sharp slap, leaving a red hand print. 

“Ah, Seth!” I gritted my teeth and arched my back in pain.

“Fuck, Mel.” I shivered at how he growled out my name. His pace picked up, skin against skin echoed throughout the small office, moans spilled from our  lips, possibly being heard from down the hallways if anyone walked by, but I didn’t care. With the stress built up from shows or being depressed because I’ve been away from my family for too long, I needed this. I needed something to make me forget even if this was just a one time thing.

“You going to come for me, princess?” He growled, gripping at my hair tightly and gave it a tug. 

“Y- Yes, yes, I’m so fucking close.” I squealed, my lower belly clenched, my walls squeezed around Seth’s cock. My whole body felt as if it was on fire, I started to see black spots. Wailing out my release, squirting on his cock, making it easier for his thickness to slide in and out of me, the sound of wetness squelched with each pump from Seth’s cock entering me. The sound made my eyes flutter and just made me imagine how much I came around his cock. My walls tightened even more, milking Seth. 

Seth roared out a moan, his come gushing into my pussy, he pushed his cock deep into me one last time, pushing the mixture of our come further inside of my womb. His semi soft cock slowly pulled out of my drenched pussy. “Hmm, what a fucking sight.” Seth pulled my cheeks apart, watching our juices drip out of my hole and down my inner thigh. He crouched down, his warm tongue hitting my sensitive skin, licking the dripping juices. “It tastes so sweet, like cherries.” He licked his lips, pushing his tongue in between my folds, getting another sample. 

Seth moaned as he pulled away from me. I squirmed at the position I was in. “Seth, please.” My face became heated with slight embarrassment. I didn’t think he’d admire the mess in between my legs face to face. I squealed loudly, curling my toes as I felt Seth’s soft tongue glaze over my sensitive clit all the way back to my drenching hole. The tip of his tongue swirled around my entrance, I tried to force him off of my overstimulated pussy by crawling away.

“Stop fighting it.” Seth growled like a hungry animal, pulling my waist back into his face as his tongue darted in and out of my cunt, collecting all of our fluids out of me.

“Fuck, wait, you’re- you’re gonna make me come again.” My cunt squeezed around his tongue, I tried to push him away as my stomach tightened but my pussy begged for a break.

“Give it to me, give it to me now.” Seth’s beard scratched against my sensitive skin, making me push my ass back against his face, moaning at how the feelings of his whiskered beard felt against my pussy lips. His tongue kept lapping over and over at the same spot that made my eyes flutter shut. 

“Oh god, Seth. Yes!” I cried out, getting enough strength I reached my arms around and grabbed his hair, pushing him further into me, begging for his tongue to dive deeper. Another loud soundwave of my moans bounced off the walls as I crumbled down onto the desk, my orgasm washing over as I squirted on his tongue, forcing out the first orgasm fluids and his onto his taste buds.

He pulled away and stood up. “Fuck, I need to stop before I get hard again.” He laughed, running his hand through his sweaty long hair. He usually had it up in a neat bun but tonight in a long time it was down for once.

The both of us got dressed in silence. “So, what does this make us?” I asked, swallowing hard. I was scared that he would say it was only a one time thing or this meant nothing.

“Whatever you wanted it to be, I guess.” He shrugged, shoving his foot into one of his wrestling boots.

“Even, girlfriend and boyfriend?” I questioned, biting my lower lip as I scratched the back of my neck, I didn’t make eye contact with him scared he’d laugh in my face.

“Is that what you want?” He walked towards me. I nodded, my eyes still casted on the floor. He gripped at my chin and made me look up at him. “Then, I guess we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.” He chuckled, leaning down and planting a kiss on my lips. “You need a ride to the next city?” 

“Y- Yeah.” I was slightly dazed and light headed from the intense fucking and the sweet kiss he gave me.

“Great, finish getting dressed and we’ll leave in ten.” With that he walked out of my office, leaving me half dressed and my hair messy and mattered. I licked my lips, tasting the residue from our juices. He was right, it did taste like cherries.

Seth Rollins' Masterlist

[damiansgoodgirll]

hello, can you write about damian priest x reader where she just got into the main roster on RAW and she felt left out in the women's lockerroom (except becky and liv) and a impossible crush with the archer of infamy but he is the one who ask her out

love this request!

‼️a little angst and rhea’s a little mean, sorry

damian priest x reader

my birdie

you were a shy person.

always been. but when it came to wrestling, you were an animal, everyone knew about your abilities and they loved you for it. that’s why you went from nxt to smackdown and from smackdown to raw in less than two years.

people wanted to see you doing big things and big things came when hunter placed you in a completely different roaster.

you made some friends in nxt, you’ve been there the most so your colleagues got to know you better. it’s not that you were rude, you didn’t like being on your own either but you were shy.

some of your colleagues got to know this side of you and tried to involve you in more activities together, others didn’t care as they all wanted to focus on themselves.

when you spent a few months on smackdown, everyone apart from bayley ignored you. she immediately understood what you were feeling. fear of being alone and starting in a roaster where you didn’t know anybody and the fact that you weren’t talkative at all was making it 100% harder.

you were grateful for bayley and for her patience with you, that’s why you cried to her when you were being shifted on raw.

you wanted to be on raw, you were just scared of how you were going to be treated. it wasn’t easy on smackdown but at least you made a friend.

the first two weeks were hard. bayley was constantly checking on you, making sure you were okay and doing good. she even said to the other girls that you were shy and needed a little time to open up but it felt like they didn’t care.

liv and becky were the only two people who never made you feel unwanted. they took times to introduce you to the rest of the raw squad.

basically, everyone was ignoring you.

shayna tried to get to know you, and in fact she liked your shy and calm persona but she was too focused on her goals to have time to get to know you better. still, you appreciated her efforts. she still spent time eating lunch with you and you were really grateful for that.

but, apart from the three girls, it was clear that you were unwanted. other girls saw you as a threat.

especially rhea. you would describe the meeting with the judgment day “the most scary day of your life”. liv introduced you to them and you felt like an animal in a cage when you felt all of their eyes on you.

dom and finn didn’t really care about you. rhea ignored you but kept watching you. damian, well, damian had the audacity to make some stupid jokes about your shy persona.

“what is a scared birdie like you doing in a place like this?” he joked making everyone but liv laugh “cat really got your tongue birdie? be safe out there, you’re a little bird in a room full of cats ready to eat you alive”

“and the one right here” dom said pointing at rhea “is the scariest cat you’ll ever meet” and with that they all left.

you remember crying that night.

you also knew that becky and liv had a conversation with them because they stopped poking at you. they just watched you from afar. especially damian. who you got a little crush on but could never tell him. you couldn’t really understand why he was constantly watching you. when you were training. when you were on live television. when you were basically doing nothing. he was watching you and his beautiful but firm eyes made you a little scared.

“what is she doing here?” you heard rhea saying to finn, one time you were all training together. she didn’t know you were listening but you were. and her words hurt you “she looks like a lost princess from disneyland” she said making finn laugh.

you excused yourself from training with becky and seth and they immediately knew something was wrong. they took you under their protective wing, training with you and teaching you new moves.

“jeez rhea, was that necessary?” becky said with an angry look on her face.

“what?” she said like nothing happened.

“why do you all hate her so much? what has she ever done to you?” seth said to finn and the rest of the judgment day.

silence.

they had no reason to hate her “like i thought” seth said.

“she’s in the wrong place” rhea said, not making eye contact with becky.

“wrong place? she kicked your ass last week” becky said laughing “just because she’s shy doesn’t mean she isn’t capable, she’s just as smart and strong as you rhea…she just has more difficulty to open up to people…you guys should help her instead of making fun of her, or at least, if you don’t feel that kind to get to know her, ignore her…for her own sake, stop making fun of her” becky said very annoyed before leaving with seth.

that night you kept thinking about rhea’s words. maybe you really were in the wrong place. maybe you didn’t belong with them. maybe you really should be doing something different. and those thoughts made you cry because wrestling was all you ever wanted to do in your entire life.

but before you could overthink again, a soft knock on your hotel room awaked you from your wandering mind.

you weren’t definitely expecting to see damian priest in front of you.

“hey…” he smiled at you.

“you should at least wait until tomorrow to make fun of me” you said, looking at the ground “again…”

damian felt guilty.

he saw how you quickly wiped your tears away. he also knew he fucked up.

he felt guilty because in reality he was in love with you. you caught his attention the moment liv introduced you to them. he was watching every move you made, making sure you were being safe but he didn’t want to let you know what he was feeling.

“i’m here to apologise…”

“sure” you still weren’t looking at him.

“i’m serious y/n…i’m so sorry for how i made you feel, for how me and my team made you feel…” he began apologising and you let him in the room before you could catch other’s attention “we thought it was funny at first but…we clearly weren’t thinking and for that i’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to hurt you” he said truthfully but still you weren’t looking at him.

his eyes had a different effect on you.

“can you please look at me?” he said moving closer to your body “are you scared of me birdie?”

“i’m not scared…” you said raising your eyes.

now you were both looking into each other’s eyes.

“i’m sorry…really, so so sorry for hurting you…” he apologised again.

“it’s okay damian…thank you for your apology, uhm…it’s okay now i guess” you shyly smiled at him.

“and if you’re okay…i would like to get to know you a little bit more…only if you’re okay with that” he said a little awkwardly.

“yes…it’s okay for me”

“perfect” he smiled “what about tomorrow? i’ll take you somewhere nice for lunch, if you’re free of course” he rambled.

“i’m free” you smiled, seeing how funny he was being.

“then i’ll see you tomorrow birdie” he smirked before leaving your room.

“would you ever stop calling me that?” you asked him.

“i don’t think so” he smiled at you closing your hotel door.

you looked at the door for about ten minutes before moving into your bed, smiling like a teen who just got asked out.

now, all you had to do was to get a nice sleep and waiting for tomorrow to come.

[cybercloudpunk53737]

Hello, my name is Alex and/or Cyber! This is my master list!

WWE

- Seth freakin’ Rollins :) (any gender)

-Rhea Ripley (any gender)

-Dominik M. (Any gender)

-Damian Priest (any gender)

-Finn Balor (any gender)

You can request ppl!!!!!!!

Obey me

-any of the brothers any gender!

Any of the side characters (NOT luke only if it’s platonic!) and any gender!

Request ppl!!

Twisted wonderland

Any of heartslabyul

Any of the dorms in general lol

Any of the staff (no Grimm unless it’s platonic!! :)

Demon slayer!

Any hashira! (Even tengen’s wives)

Any demon!

Tanjiro or any one of that group! (No nezuko unless it’s platonic!)

Anything horror!

Scream!

Halloween

Friday the 13th

Nightmare on elm street

YOU NAME IT!!! I DO IT!!!!

Please request anything else! I will happily except them! If I don’t know them I will do research!!!

I will do a angst, fluff, I will try to do smut but I still have to practice it!

Again! Please request!!! I will happily except them! You can request anything! To fandoms to oneshots to imagines!

-Alex! <3

[rootedinrevisions]

Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

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.)

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

 Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog. 

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you.  “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable. 

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

[claymoresofinfamy23]

I may not have a crush on Seth, but I love this regardless

The Kingslayer's Epiphany (Seth Rollins X Reader)

Pairing: Seth Rollins X Reader Summary: When Smackdown invades RAW and you're kidnapped by the Bludgeon Brothers, Shield members—and Tag Team Champions—Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose prepare for battle at Survivor Series (2017) to get you back. And in the midst of all the chaos, Seth has quite the epiphany. Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Story Content & Trigger Warnings: Violence against both males and females.

Note: This is the finished product after I edited out all curse words and references to sex. Hope it is enjoyed!

The Kingslayer's Epiphany

"Any ladies in here…Y'all need to get out. Like, five minutes ago."

You and your friend and co-worker, Sasha Banks both shrieked at hearing the male voice in your very female locker room. Sasha was lucky enough to still be dressed, but you had just gotten out of the shower. Your waist-length hair was still dripping wet and you'd barely gotten a towel wrapped around yourself.

You spun around clutching said towel to your body and glared at AJ Styles as his head poked through the locker room door. But at least he had his eyes averted to the floor.

"AJ," you snapped, "Get out of here! What do you think you're-"

"I'm serious, Y/N," AJ cut you off. "Y'all need to grab your stuff and get out of this arena. Now. Smackdown is invading—Shane's orders." His eyes searched your face then. "You especially need to leave. The Bludgeon Brothers—Luke and Erick—they have plans for you. If you see them… run the other way."

"P-plans," you asked. Your heart stuttered along with your speech. "AJ, what kind of plans?

"That's ridiculous," Sasha cut in. "They haven't even debuted as the Bludgeon Brothers yet!"

You watched as AJ briefly turned his attention to Sasha. "Rumor has it backstage that they're gonna debut at Survivor Series. I have no idea in what capacity, but I'm pretty sure it is happening." His gaze returned to yours. "As for the plans for you—I'm not sure. But it can't be good, kid. Now, get out of here! Don't waste time. Just go!"

The door swung shut then and AJ disappeared.

And your heart hammered in your chest. Just the idea of those two behemoths getting their hands on you made you shudder.

"Y/N, hurry! Get dressed," Sasha exclaimed, pulling a jacket on over her ring attire. "We need to get out of here!"

Her voice jarred you from your thoughts and you quickly dug a pair of black yoga pants and a pink oversized sweatshirt from your gym bag. Hurriedly, you tugged on the clothing in record time, not bothering with undergarments—there just wasn't enough time for all that. You slipped your feet—sans socks—into your Sketchers and began tying the laces with trembling fingers.

"Sasha, go," you said urgently. "Go warn the other girls and then get out of here."

"I can't just leave you behind-"

"The others need to know what's coming. They're all exhausted from their matches," you hissed, finishing a double knot. "They won't stand a chance. I know to get out of here. But they don't. Please, go!"

Sasha nodded, obviously conflicted but darted out of the locker room nonetheless.

The women would be warned. You could be relieved about that. But the men… you thought. They had no idea. All your friends' faces flashed through your mind. Your fellow Shield members first and foremost; Roman was out sick with a bad virus.

But Dean!

Seth…

Your ride-or-die.

Even though he probably doesn't even realize he's my ride-or-die.

You thought also of Finn and his goofy, fun-loving personality. Matt and Jeff. Cesaro. Sheamus. All of them.

You cared about these people. They were your family and they needed to be warned—to be helped. You couldn't leave. No matter how scared you were of the two huge men who were apparently after you.

You knew what you had to do.

You struggled to tie your other shoe, but once the laces were knotted you shot over to the locker room door and poked your head out, making sure it was still safe for the time being.

It's quiet, you thought to yourself, eyeing the deserted hallways. Too quiet.

Ignoring the fact your heart was in your throat, you ran out the door and bolted down the hall toward Seth's dressing room, praying that both he and Dean were both there and not elsewhere. Flying around a corner, you smacked right into what felt like a wall. Bouncing back a bit, you struggled to breathe. Your breath was knocked clear out of you. Hands reached out and latched none-too-gently on to your arms, and in horror, you looked up to see Erick Rowan leering down at you. Luke Harper stood next to him, his black eyes boring into yours. They both sported blue SmackDown t-shirts. You noticed that Luke was carrying a spare one in his hand.

"Put this on," Luke started, shoving the t-shirt at you.

With a shrill scream, you shot your knee up into Erick's groin as hard as you could. Luke reached out then, preparing to snatch you up but you ducked under his arms and ran as fast as your legs would allow.

Just minutes later you reached Seth's dressing room and didn't bother to knock. Rushing inside, you shut and locked the door behind you. Spinning around you saw Seth and Dean eyeing you cautiously.

The television was on, and the two men must've been watching the remainder of the show.

Shane was in the ring with Kurt. The Smackdown roster surrounded them.

"What's going on," Seth's gaze shifted from you to the TV. "Y/N, why are you crying?"

It was only then that you felt wetness on your face. Shakily, you reached up and wiped at the tears; embarrassed that you were showing such weakness.

"Smackdown is invading," you said, hating the tremble in your voice. You motioned to the TV with your head. "They're going to attack us."

Seth muttered a curse under his breath. "They purposely waited until the end of the show. What's that going to prove? That they can beat up a roster who's already fought all night? Big deal." He glanced over at Dean then and pulled on his gloves for the second time that night. "You ready for another brawl, brother?"

Dean was already bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. "Ya know it."

"WHAT," you demanded, Erick and Luke instantly forgotten. How could they think of fighting when they had to be exhausted? "I came and warned you, so you could get away, you jerks!"

You watched in fury when Seth's mouth twitched as though he were fighting off a grin, and Dean didn't even try to hide it. He busted out laughing and kissed the top of your head. "That's really adorable, Doll. But we ain't hidin' or runnin'. That's our roster out there. We don't-"

"I was going to go warn them too," you argued, hoping to persuade them. "You guys… You don't get it! You're all tired. SmackDown isn't! They're going to-"

"Under. Siege."

You all three heard Shane speak the cryptic words from the television, and watched as Kurt began scrambling to get backstage.

"Go get 'em!" Shane motioned with his hand for his roster to go attack, and with the New Day and Becky Lynch leading the pack, they charged up the ramp, determination and excitement etched on their faces.

"It's on," Dean chuckled.

Seth latched onto your wrist and then was ushering you out the door with Dean close behind.

"What are you doing," you demanded, trying to free your wrist from Seth's gentle but firm grip.

"You're getting out of here," Seth said as he all but dragged you down the hallway. "We're gonna get you to the rental, and you're gonna go to the hotel. We'll meet you there later."

"No," you cried, working to pry his fingers loose from your wrist. "I want to stay and help! The women's division needs me! I'm-"

"You're not stayin', Doll," Dean interrupted. "You're crazier than me if you think you are."

"Now you wait just a minute," you growled, jabbing Dean in the chest with your finger for emphasis. "I sent Sasha to warn the others when she could've made an escape. She could get hurt because of me! I'm not leaving-"

In the blink of an eye, Seth had you hauled over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

"Put me down, you stubborn jackass!" You kicked your feet with the intent of messing with his equilibrium and getting free; not to hurt him. He continued carrying you down the hall. Dean snickered behind the two of you. You reached out and slapped at him. "I'm going to kick both your butts! You're going to be so sorry when I get through with you!"

"As scared as you have me, Munchkin," Seth said, sarcasm lacing his voice, "I'll have to take my chances."

"Don't you dare call me that at a time like this, Seth Rollins," you snarled. "I may be little, but I can still beat your-"

There was a lot of shouting growing closer—from around the corner at the other end of the hall.

"Oh, no," you whispered, growing tense. "Seth, please put me down!"

"You got it."

The next thing you know, you were gently hurled into a dark maintenance closet and the door was shut in your face. Your hand shot out and latched onto the doorknob, giving it a sharp twist.

Locked. Or jammed. You weren't sure which.

"Seth! Dean! Let me out of here!" You screamed as you pounded on the door with your fists. You stepped back and tried kicking at the door but it was too sturdy. You could hear fighting beyond the door now. "Let me out, you jack-holes, or I swear I'm going to-"

Your words were interrupted by the opening of the door.

"Seriously," you demanded, stepping back out into the light. "You actually locked me-"

Your gaze shifted upward as your eyes readjusted to the light, and settled on Erick and Luke cornering you. Again.

"No," you uttered, backing up a step.

There was nowhere to go except back into the closet behind you. Erick reached out and grabbed hold of your neck in his huge hand. You clawed at his wrist and tried to force him to release you as you took a deep breath, preparing to scream your lungs out. He clamped his hand tighter around your throat and cut off your air before you could utter a sound. You felt as though your eyes were going to pop out of your head as you fought for oxygen.

"Y/N!"

You were only vaguely aware of Seth's voice roaring your name as your vision grew fuzzy around the edges. Tears spilled from your eyes and your chest burned like fire.

"DOLL!"

Dean shouted next.

Frantic with the need for air, you latched onto one of Erick's fingers and bent it back as far as you could. The bald Neanderthal howled in pain; a sound you never heard the likes of before. His grip on your neck loosened and as you bent his finger even further, he released you altogether.

You'd planned to run if he let you go. But your body had different plans from your brain. You fell to the floor in a small helpless heap, gasping for air quicker than you could attain it. Your fuzzed-over gaze shifted slowly down the hall to see a blur of blue battling and beating the devil out of your fellow roster members.

Seth was knocked to the floor and kicked in the stomach. As he rolled over to protect his ribs, his gaze locked with yours. His dark eyes shifted upward above you and a look of horror crossed his face. Groggy from your lack of oxygen, you wondered why he looked so scared for you when he was the one being hit and kicked.

Then you felt yourself flying through the air and realized Erick and Luke weren't through with you.

The last thing you would remember was an explosion of pain at the back of your head and your shoulder as you collided with the wall, and then everything went black in an instant.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"What were you thinking? You made her hit the wall too hard!"

"I had to do something! She was beating the devil out of you, Rowan! Little Miss Five-Foot-Two, of all people. And you couldn't even subdue her!"

"That's exactly why we need her. She's strong and tough, and we need a strong female on our team. We went over this. But Y/N has been out cold for three days straight—because of you! Something tells me she's not so strong or tough anymore."

"Oh, God…" you uttered softly upon waking to hear Rowan and Harper bickering like a couple of gossipy high school girls. Your head was killing you, your left shoulder was throbbing, and your stomach was churning from nausea. And these two annoying, male chauvinistic pigs couldn't even let you sleep in peace. "Please, shut up. Or I swear to God I will barf on the both of you."

With your eyes still closed, you took stock of your situation. You were lying down on what felt like cement. "Not even a freaking pillow," you muttered softly. Struggling with pain all over your body, you managed to squint and slowly open your eyes to take in your surroundings. It was apparently night time. There was very dim lighting and you saw Rowan and Harper standing not far away, staring at you.

"Where am I," you ask softly, fighting to move into a sitting position. "Where are all my friends? Are they okay? Dean?… Seth?"

"They're not your concern anymore," Rowan answered. "We are."

You rolled your eyes and then winced as pain reverberated all over your head, from your eyes to your neck. Biting back a whimper, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "I don't give a RIP what happens to either of you. In fact, I'll bring along your demise the first chance I get, Rowan. Mark. My. Words."

He stalked over to you and grabbed a hank of your hair, forcefully tipping your throbbing head back so you had no choice but to look at him. This time you couldn't stop the soft cry that ripped past your lips. "I'd be a tad nicer, girl," he growled. "You're going to be here with us for a while."

"What are you talking about," you asked, tearing your gaze from his and taking in your surroundings. You were in some sort of warehouse-slash-workshop. A fire-pit was in the middle of the building, but it did you little good for warmth seeing as you were at the wall on the other side of the workshop. You jerked your head away from Rowan—once again forgetting your gargantuan headache—and noticed for the first time that your ankle was shackled to a metal loop in the floor. Your feet were bare. For if I escape the shackle, you realized. I won't get very far.

"You've been out cold for several days, so I'll catch you up," Rowan answered. "We want you as a female team member. You're strong, tough, and one of the best female athletes in this business."

"I'm already part of a team," you answered, trying with much difficulty to sound brave and bored with the subject at hand. "I'm part of the Shield." You swallowed hard and nearly gagged around a wave of pain in your head. "And besides… I'm on RAW. Not SmackDown."

"You were," Rowan agreed, and smiled slightly. "But… there's been a slight alteration to your contract."

Your heart sped up. You didn't like where this was going. Nor did you like the look of confidence on Rowan's face.

"What do you mean?"

"We refused to return you to RAW. Therefore, negotiations took place. No solution was found. So, there was no other choice but to let a certain match determine your fate."

"What match," you asked, feeling more nauseated by the second.

"Us," Rowan indicated himself and Harper, "versus the Shield—minus Reigns, of course. At Survivor Series."

"And," you calmly prompted him to continue, though you were fighting between the urges to either lay down and cry or throw up where you sat.

"And… The winner gets to keep you." He rattled off the stipulations next. "You will be handcuffed inside a cage above the ring, and you'll also be blindfolded and made to wear earbuds to block out your hearing."

Growing angry, you glared at him, "Why? What does it matter what I see or hear?"

"Because we all know the tricks you've been known to pull in the past. If you have no idea what's going on, you can't find a way to help your teammates win."

Your glare darkened even more as you pinned it on both Rowan and Harper. "You better hope they win."

"Oh yeah," Harper finally spoke up, a snarl on his lips. "Why's that, Short Stuff?"

"Because if they don't, I'll make your lives miserable. You'll be wishing you were rid of me within a few hours."

Rowan rushed at you, getting right in your face.

"So… Maybe we WILL get rid of you. Just not the way you're hoping."

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"We're going to get her back, brother," Dean told Seth.

They were sitting in Seth's dressing room backstage at the Phillips Arena in Atlanta. Their match was in the next hour, and they'd already done their warm-ups.

Seth nodded but didn't respond in any other way.

Dean was worried about his friend. He'd not been the same since Y/N was kidnapped so brutally. They'd had no choice but to watch as she was flung into a wall and knocked unconscious. Then the two beastly barbarians known as the Bludgeon Brothers had carried her away.

We have to get her back, Seth thought to himself. We're not whole without her.

He thought of all the special memories he had with her. Endless Harry Potter marathons. It didn't matter how many times they'd seen each movie. They never tired of them. Y/N never could get through Snape's death without weeping, and Seth would always pull her against him and cuddle her till the scene was over and her crying ceased.

She'd been his date to the Hall of Fame induction ceremony seven months prior. He'd sworn to himself as long as he lived he would never forget how she looked in her evening dress. The bright red slinky material hugged her curves and contrasted vividly with her skin. She'd worn a matching red lipstick, and with her hair done up in a fancy up-do, she'd reminded him of a classy 1940s Hollywood actress. She'd taken his breath away and he'd wanted to kiss her so badly. But he'd always figured he'd had too much to drink, and that she probably didn't feel the same way about him.

And now I may never have the chance to find out how she feels about me, he thought.

The notion left him feeling gutted.

"I love her," he uttered the words, not even realizing he was speaking.

"Well, duh," Dean replied, sitting down beside him on the large sofa. "We both do. So does Roman."

"No," Seth exclaimed, turning to Dean with a panicked look in his dark eyes. "I'm in love with Y/N. We have to get her back Dean. We can't fail. We can't lose her. Ican't lose her!"

"It's about time you realized it, brother," Dean patted Seth's shoulder. "And we will get her back. We're not gonna lose 'er."

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

By the time Survivor Series rolled around, you were an emotional mess.

You'd proven to be more of a handful than Rowan and Harper realized. On a particular occasion within your first week of staying with the Bludgeon Brothers, you managed to free your foot of the shackle that held you but not without sacrifice. As you stood shakily to your feet, you knew you'd torn something in your foot or ankle. A ligament, some cartilage, you had no idea. All you knew was that you were free, and you had to get out of there before Rowan and Harper came back.

You limped and hobbled your way out the door and when you finally got outside, you wanted to sob. You were surrounded by woods. And it was COLD. With no coat or shoes, you were as good as dead. Dejected, you went back inside to face the music when Rowan and Harper returned.

I'll have a chance to get away when they take me to Survivor Series, you thought. Not to mention if Seth and Dean win the match—WHEN they win the match, you corrected yourself. You had to stay positive. When they win the match, I'll get to be with them again.

Rowan and Harper returned a little while later to find your shackle laying beside you. They flew into a rage and opted to chain you up by your wrists, leaving your feet dangling at least a foot above the concrete floor. You were only freed for designated bathroom breaks. And for meals—which were next to nil. They only gave you enough water to survive. They didn't even free you so you could sleep. It was not only a punishment but was to keep you weak—the only true way they could get you to toe the line. You could take pride in that.

Now, as Harper carried your almost limp frame into the Toyota Center in Houston, you heard gasps all around you.

"My God… What did they do to her?"

"Is she sick?"

"Is she hurt badly?"

The questions were all around you, but you barely could make any sense of them.

"Back off," Harper growled suddenly, and he halted in his tracks.

"I just wanted to give her this candy bar. She looks like she needs it."

Renee, you thought sluggishly. She's trying to help me.

"No food," Rowan snapped at her. "If she has any strength, she's a tyrant to deal with."

You couldn't help but smile in your dazed, sleep-deprived state. Good.

"How can you expect her to last through an entire pay-per-view," Renee argued. "She can't even stand!"

"Renee, honey… Get away from here. I'll handle it."

Your eyes shot open. Dean!

"D-Dean?" You automatically reached out your hand to him. He took it gently in his larger one and squeezed. "Y-you're okay? And Seth?" Tears burned your eyes and a soft sob shuddered through your body.

"Get away from her," Rowan growled, stepping into Dean's personal space. You gripped his hand tighter, unwilling to let go.

"Seth's fine, Doll," Dean answered without taking his eyes off Rowan. "Don't you be worrying about us. We're gonna take care of this. And then we're gonna take you out for the biggest cheeseburger in the city."

Your stomach rumbled at the thought. "Tell Seth… I'm o-okay. Don't t-tell him what I look like right now. Don't let him worry, D-Deano."

"It's gonna be okay, sweetie," Dean shifted his gaze to your face. "I promise. We're gonna get you back."

With those words, Harper turned away from Dean, ripping your hand from his. "N-no! Dean! Please! Let me be with them!" Your sobs and cries could be heard all the way to the lobby of the arena. But the Bludgeon Brothers ignored you. They took you to the locker rooms so you could get a shower and prepare for the show that night. They only allowed Renee and Nia to assist you with a shower when they saw that you couldn't even stand long enough to enter the locker room. You sobbed and apologized the entire time for them having to help you clean up.

They warmly assured you that it was not a problem, and most definitely not your fault.

"So don't apologize," Nia said softly. You winced as she washed over your injured shoulder. "They're sickos for what they've done to you."

The rest of the evening went by in a blur for you. You kept falling asleep in the middle of your makeup and hair session. You were so hungry it felt as though your stomach was eating itself.

Finally, it was time to dress. You also had help with that feat. Wardrobe had sent a pair of tight black low-rise pants, and a SmackDown t-shirt.

"Courtesy of the Bludgeon Brothers," the woman said apologetically.

You glared at the shirt and looked at Nia who was again assisting you. "I can't wear that."

"You have to," Nia said. "That was part of their stipulations."

"I'll wear it out there, but it's coming off before I get in that cage," you said. "I bleed red."

Nia smiled deviously. "Well, if you want to go out there in a blaze of glory, I think I can get my hands on something you can wear under it that will make quite the statement to Rowan and Harper."

You nodded with a smile of your own. "Please do."

A couple hours later, Rowan and Harper were making their entrance. They'd made it clear that they couldn't be bothered with getting you to the ring, so they had a referee wheel you down in a wheelchair and help you into the cage which was set up inside the ring.

"Wait," you said softly, as the ref started to assist you into the cage so he could cuff your wrists to the top of the small structure. You reached down and tugged up the hem of the SmackDown t-shirt, careful to keep the shirt underneath from coming off with it. Gingerly, you eased the blue shirt over your injured shoulder and up over your head. Fully removing it from your body, you managed a weak smile as you showcased the cropped, red RAW shirt you now wore. As a final act of defiance, you tossed the SmackDown shirt at Rowan's and Harper's feet.

"I won't be needing that," you said, staring them down.

With a snarl, Rowan rushed forward and shoved the ref out of the ring. "I'll take it from here," he growled, and then shoved you hard into the cage. Your back collided with the bars and your shoulder throbbed in protest. You bit your lip to fight off the cry that threatened to erupt from your mouth.

In the next instant, Rowan had your right wrist above your head and secured in one of the handcuffs. Your skin burned as it pulled in the restraint, due to all the time spent in cuffs at the Bludgeon Brothers' workshop. Rowan chuckled, at seeing your discomfort. "Too tight," he asked.

You nodded immediately. You couldn't help it. "Yes. Please—it hurts…"

He got in your face and smirked. "Good." With that, he yanked your left arm up—much harder than was necessary. You were sure he meant to hurt your injured shoulder even more. You couldn't stop the scream that passed your lips if your very life depended on it.

Suddenly, the Shield's music hit and both Seth and Dean were flying for the ring, fury etched across their faces. Once they were inside the ring, however, Rowan wrenched your arm up even further and you screamed again.

"Stop right there, or I swear I'll rip her arm off and then choke her out with it," Rowan said casually, as if he wasn't about to get murdered in the middle of the ring.

You heard a growl pass Seth's throat, and then his gaze shifted from Rowan's face to yours.

"It's gonna be okay, sweetheart," he said softly. "This'll be over soon."

You nodded and forced yourself—for Seth's and Dean's sake—not to scream when Rowan cuffed your other wrist above your head. Immediately, earbuds were shoved into your ears and you could only hear the Monday Night RAW theme blaring. You kept your gaze locked on Seth's until the blindfold was slid over your eyes and there was only darkness.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Seth put on the match of his life. He meant no disrespect in the least to Dean, but he felt like this was his match. His win. It had to be him. It was his woman he was fighting for—whether Y/N realized it or not.

When this is over, he thought, I'm not wasting another second in letting her know what she means to me—how much I love her.

Seth only tagged Dean in when he wanted to double team Rowan or Harper. The rest of the time he stuck to his high-flying and brutal maneuvers. He even brought back his old curb stomp. And used it every chance he got. He wasn't fooling around.

Rowan and Harper are NOT winning this match, he thought as he delivered a sling blade to Harper. He couldn't handle thinking of the abuse Y/N would endure—had already endured. Having to watch her on the monitors backstage as Rowan roughed her up in the cage was his undoing. The second she screamed, he saw red. He didn't even realize he'd been running until he was inside the ring.

He slammed his knee into Rowan's face and saw his opportunity as the large man sprawled across the canvas; out cold. Seth pounced and covered him, hooking his leg at the same time. Dean was pummeling Harper with his fists; keeping him busy so he couldn't interfere with the three count.

1…2…3

Ding-Ding-Ding!

The Shield's music blasted through the arena and the crowd went crazy as Seth kicked Rowan out of the ring completely. Then he marched over to the referee and snatched the cage's and handcuffs' keys from him.

Dean went to the corner of the ring and motioned for a microphone while Y/N's cage was lowered back down to the canvas. "Cut the music and have some respect," he called out to the people working in the sound truck. "We ain't celebratin' 'till we make sure our girl is okay!"

This earned another round of cheers from the crowd as they voiced their agreement.

The cage reached the canvas, and Seth's heart sank as he saw Y/N practically hanging from her cuffs; tears streaming down her cheeks. He wasted no time in unlocking the door and then he was inside with her, holding her up. Her skin burned his and he noted the sweat dotting along her hairline and temples. She jolted as his arms went around her and a cry broke from her lips.

Immediately, he plucked the earbuds from her ears and slid the blindfold from her head. "Shhh…" He shushed her gently. "I've gotcha, sweetheart."

"S-Seth?" Her heavy-lidded eyes shifted upward and met his.

He swallowed hard and gave a nod. "Yeah, baby. It's Seth." He supported her weight with one arm while he reached up with his free hand and unlocked one of the cuffs. "You're safe now. We've got you." Her right arm fell heavy and useless as the cuff released her. She winced and let out a pained moan. "Arm was numb," she uttered. "Now it feels like pricking needles."

"I'm so sorry, baby," Seth whispered as he began unlocking the other cuff.

"Not your fault," Y/N replied. She inhaled sharply as her wrist came free. Seth took it gently in his hand and eased her arm down. His soft touch wasn't enough to keep her shoulder from throbbing as he lowered her arm, however. She cried out and sobbed as fire shot from the crook of her neck all the way down her arm.

Seth growled a curse as her face visibly paled.

"What's wrong with her," Dean tried to inch his way into the cage, but there wasn't enough room.

"She needs a doctor," was all Seth said as he bent and scooped Y/N's legs up and cradled her against his chest.

Dean cursed as he spun around and went immediately to the ropes, climbing through them. "Give her to me."

Seth followed him over to the ropes, the audience all but forgotten. He passed Y/N over to Dean so he could climb through the ropes without dropping her. Immediately, he demanded she be returned to him. Then they were hurrying up the ramp to get her to the trainer's office.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

It seemed like it took forever before you felt the cage descending. Your legs had given out within minutes of the match's start. Your wrists and arms took on all of your weight and your shoulder was absolutely killing you. Tears streamed down your face and groans of pain burst from your mouth.

Now, as the cage thudded slightly against the canvas of the ring, part of you was relieved the ordeal was finally over but another part of you was scared to death of the outcome.

What if Rowan and Harper somehow cheated and won? What if Seth and Dean are hurt? What will happen-?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you felt the cage shift slightly under someone's weight. Arms went around you in a possessive hold and your sore body jumped, and save for a soft cry, you forced yourself to stay quiet. You would not give the Bludgeon Brothers the satisfaction of seeing your fear if they were the victors.

You felt the earbuds pulled from your ears and in the next instant, the blindfold left you.

"Shhh… I've gotcha, sweetheart."

Your heart skipped at hearing the voice of the man you loved. "S-Seth," you slurred and managed to shift your gaze to his. He appeared to swallow past a lump in his throat, and he nodded. "Yeah, baby. It's Seth."

In the next couple minutes, he managed to get your wrists freed, though not without excruciating pain. Everything became a blur after that. The next thing you knew, you were lying on a gurney and being wheeled through a brightly lit hallway.

As your vision blurred then faded, you could have sworn you heard Seth's voice saying:

"I love you, Y/N. I love you."

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

In the darkness, you became aware of sounds all around you. Low voices. Distant footsteps. The soft hum of machinery, and a steady beeping that seemed to reverberate through your head.

You whimpered softly as consciousness came back to you and various pains made themselves known. Your head pounded as though a jackhammer was set loose in your brain. Your shoulder throbbed with fire. Overall, your body felt as if you'd been hit by a Mack truck.

Your eyes fluttered, battling to open and take in your surroundings. You became aware of a large hand squeezing your right one, and then warm, soft lips brushed over the back of it. Several tender little kisses to your knuckles followed suit while a beard and mustache scratched lightly against your fingers.

"Y/N? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?"

Seth.

Your eyes weren't fully cooperating yet, so you tried to speak his name. All you managed was a soft pained moan.

"I know, baby. I know it hurts."

His hand left yours and then you heard the sound of water sloshing. A cool wet cloth was applied to your forehead and it shifted down to each of your cheeks, then your neck.

"Freaking fever."

You heard Seth's muttered words and wanted to reassure him you'd be okay. Even though you had no idea if that was true or not.

You forced your eyes to open then, and blinked several times at the blinding light that assaulted your gaze. Quickly, you recognized that you were in a hospital room. Seth was standing at the rolling table over your bed, and soaked the wash cloth again. He was still in his wrestling gear. His hair was rumpled and he looked as if he'd gotten no sleep. He gently smoothed the wet cloth over the skin of your arms as he tried to cool you down; his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

The sight of his worried face as he took care of you melted your heart. If you didn't know you loved him before, you did now. And in your groggy state, you said the words aloud—not that he understood your garbled slurring.

"What was that, honey?"

You'd already dozed back off and came awake again at the sound of his voice. "Mmm... Dun'no," you mumbled. You gingerly shifted your head so you could see him better. "Ever' one okay? RAW...win?"

He stood still for a moment and gazed down at you, his eyes scanning your face intently. "Yeah, everyone is fine. And Team RAW did win. But that doesn't even matter right now. You are what matters."

"Wha' happ'ned," you asked. "After?" Your words didn't make any sense even to you, but Seth seemed to know what you were asking.

"You were in and out of consciousness," he answered. "I started to carry you to the trainer's office, but you were too bad off for that. We rushed you to the hospital. You've been here a couple of days. You were severely dehydrated and your ankle is sprained. You'd developed a fever that is yet to come down. You..." He swallowed hard and avoided your eyes as he continued to list off your ailments. "Your shoulder... It was badly dislocated. You had to have surgery."

The heart monitor stuttered as your heart skipped a beat and picked up its pace.

"S-surgery," you slurred. "'m I okay?"

He nodded and fidgeted with the wash cloth, still avoiding looking at you. "Yeah. Yeah, you're gonna be fine. But, you're also gonna be outta action for... for a while, honey. Up to a year."

Instantly, you felt terrible. You were letting your team down. You hated that Seth must see you as such a weakling now.

"S-Seth... 'm so sorry..."

His head shot up and he looked over at you. His dark, chocolate-colored eyes narrowed. "What?"

You felt tears burning your eyes and hated yourself for it. "Sorry. Letting y'all down. Sorry for bein' weak."

The wash cloth fell from his hands back into the basin of water and he sat down in the chair next to your bed, scooting it closer so he could take your hand. "What are you talking about, sweetheart?"

It occurred to you that Seth hadn't ever bothered with terms of endearment with you before your kidnapping; other than calling you "munchkin", that is. But you were too sleepy to try and make sense out of it. You were barely able to function enough to answer his question. However, his question was apparently rhetorical, because he didn't give you a true chance to reply.

"Y/N..." he started, tugging your hand to his chest and holding it there. "You aren't letting us down—at all. And you are THE strongest woman I know. You are one of the first women to arrive at the arena every day, and you are the last to leave. I've never seen anyone work harder than you do. Not to mention the month of torture you went through having to stay with those monsters. And you still had the courage to defy them to the very end. So, don't talk to me about being weak. You're not. You're... You're amazing."

A tear finally spilled down your cheek and you could find no words.

"I never realized how amazing..." Seth continued. "Until you were taken from me—from us," he corrected himself quickly, an atypical blush staining his cheeks. "I was so afraid we'd lose that match—that we'd never see you again."

With your eyes growing heavy again, you squeezed his hand to comfort him. "I knew you guys would win," you whispered with a wan smile. "I knew you'd bring me home."

Returning your smile, Seth spoke softly. "We had to. We can't make it without you. It just wouldn't be the same." He chuckled then, "By the way, Dean is here too. It was my turn to sit with you. I should go get him. He's been bouncing off the walls."

You managed a small laugh, and then immediately winced in pain.

"Let me get the nurse to bring you something for your pain. Then I'll go tell Dean he can sit with you a while."

You nodded as he gently placed your hand back on the bed and pushed the nurse's call button on the bed's side rails. You grew more sleepy as Seth informed the nurse of your pain, and began to drift off.

The last thing you remembered was warm lips tenderly brushing over your forehead. After a slight pause, those lips pressed a soft, loving kiss to your mouth.

The trouble was... You'd wake up hours later not knowing if that kiss was real or just a dream.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

A month had passed since your rescue and surgery.

You had stayed home in Orlando to begin your rehabbing and get on the road to recovery. And though the exercises were excruciating at first, you were thrilled at the feeling of doing something. You were sad at having to stay behind while Seth and Dean—and Roman too, once he was cleared to return from his illness—traveled the country and competed. But at the same time, you were just happy to still be part of the Shield instead of condemned to become a Bludgeon Sister.

Now, as you finished up the final touches to your makeup, you smiled in your excitement. It was only a week until Christmas, and you were receiving THE perfect gift.

WWE was returning to the states from being gone overseas for well over almost two weeks. And the first show back on U. S. soil was in Orlando that night. You'd made plans with Seth, Dean and Roman to visit backstage and catch up. It would be the first time you'd see Seth or Dean in weeks, and even longer with Roman.

Giggling, you began singing to yourself:

Guess who just got back today Them wild-eyed boys that had been away Haven't changed that much to say But man, I still think them cats are crazy

Brushing your hair, and preparing to style it with your curling iron, you skipped to the chorus of the Thin Lizzy song:

The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)

The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town again)

It was nearly time to leave for the Amway Center, so you quickly slid your new red dress on over your meager undergarments and zipped it. You smiled as the scarlet material settled against your curves perfectly. You knew you were dressing up a bit much, but you didn't care. It was nearly Christmas, and you'd missed your boys. You wanted to look special for them.

Especially Seth, you had to admit to yourself. You'd fully accepted the fact that you were head-over-heels in love with him. And while you didn't have the nerve to make the first move, you wanted to encourage him to—if he felt the same way. And you remembered the way he looked at you at the last Hall Of Fame ceremony, when you were his date. He seemed to appreciate how you looked in red.

Slipping on your strappy red stilettos, you checked your reflection one last time and then headed out the door.

You arrived at Amway Center a half hour later and entered the building from the parking garage. The minute you went backstage, you were engulfed in hugs all around.

"Good t' see ya, lass," Finn Bálor said softly, kissing the top of your head. He could easily empathize with you in that you both shared the exact same injury. "Glad t' see y'r feelin' better."

You nodded, "Much better. Thank you. I've missed you all so much."

Sasha hurried up to you then and latched on in a tight hug. "I am so sorry-"

"Don't even," you cut her off with a laugh and returned her hug. "Don't go there, Sasha. This would've happened whether you'd stayed with me or not. And if you'd stayed, you would've probably been hurt as well."

Sasha nodded, "I get that. But I still feel badly. And I'm still sorry you had to go through it."

It seemed like several minutes passed that you spoke with several of the wrestlers when you heard your name uttered softly from behind you.

Turning around, you spotted Seth, Dean, and Roman standing in the hallway wearing their full ring gear.

How could I have forgotten how gorgeous Seth looks in his vest and those cargo pants, you thought to yourself. And that shirt that fits like a second skin. You felt a blush burning your cheeks and you knew he'd have to be blind not to see it.

A smile broke across the three men's faces almost simultaneously. "Baby girl," Roman exclaimed. He bent down and hugged you close, careful not to hurt your shoulder. "God, I've missed you."

"Missed you too, Rome," you said, already feeling the sting of tears. "I've missed you all so much!"

Dean grabbed you next and squeezed you tight, also careful to leave your shoulder untouched. "Good to see ya, Doll," he smiled. Then he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "I think you're killin' Mr. Crossfit with that dress. His eyes nearly popped outta his head!"

You felt your face burn hotter and playfully slugged him on the arm. "Oh, quit, you!" You shifted your gaze to Seth's then and smiled shyly. "Hello, Seth."

It seemed as though all of the wrestlers in the hallway disappeared then—and quickly. Even Dean and Roman. Suddenly, you and Seth were alone.

"I'm so happy to see you," Seth said softly. He finally pulled you into a hug and held on for what seemed like an eternity. Which was definitely okay with you. You inhaled the scent of his cologne and nearly sighed in pleasure at the gentle, clean smell. When Seth finally pulled away, he looked you over from head to toe and shook his head slightly, a look of awe on his face. His dark eyes lifted back to yours and he offered a bashful grin. "You look beautiful."

You couldn't stop the giggle that burst from your lips. "Thank you. I realize the dress is a bit too much, but it's Christmas—almost. And I... I wanted to wear something special for tonight—for when I got to see my boys."

Seth chuckled at the Shield men being referred to as 'your boys'. Then he reached out and took your hand and urged you to turn around for him. "It's not too much," he replied, stepping closer to you. "It's perfect." He seemed to have an internal struggle then, as if he wanted to say something but was afraid to. He finally managed to speak. "I... I, uh... I actually had a surprise planned for you tonight—at my place. There's something I need to tell you."

Your forehead creased slightly in concern. "Is everything okay, Seth?"

He immediately looked as though he regretted his choice of words. "Oh, definitely," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to worry you." He smiled nervously. "Meet me back here? After our match?—Well, after I've had a chance to shower and change?"

You nodded, excited at the idea of spending some time with him. "Yes, definitely! I'll be here."

"Great," Seth smiled and then leaned down kissing your forehead. Then, as if he couldn't stop himself, he brushed his lips over your cheek in an intimate caress. "See you then." Then he was walking down the hall in search of his brothers.

The next couple of hours passed quickly despite your eagerness to see Seth again. The rest of the roster kept your mind off the clock by hanging out with you between their matches. And then finally... You saw Seth walking down the hall toward you dressed in a basic pair of dark jeans and a light blue, button-down dress shirt. The pale color of the shirt exacerbated the darkness of his skin and eyes. His hair was clean and hung loose around his shoulders in soft waves.

A whimper passed your lips and then you were aware of Nia and Alexa guffawing beside you.

"Girl, you've got it so bad," Nia said, still laughing.

"Oh, hush," you whispered, feeling your face flame.

"Don't worry," Alexa giggled, "He's got it just as bad for you. You're all he's talked about for the past month. Actually, two months if you count from the time you were kidnapped."

By now, Seth had reached the three of you and smiled softly at you. "You ready?"

You nodded, looking him up and down. Something was up. He normally left the arenas in a t-shirt and jeans or sweatpants. He rarely wore dress shirts. "You look... really... really good," you said softly, daring to meet his gaze. He flushed slightly and grinned. Your compliment obviously pleased him.

"Thanks," he said softly. "Just thought I'd follow your lead and dress up a tad." He motioned toward the elevator down the hall. "Shall we?"

You stepped toward him with a shy smile and turned toward Nia and Alexa, who were wearing smug grins on their faces. "See you guys later."

"Later," Nia returned with a wave.

"Have fun," Alexa said with an impish giggle.

You heard Seth let out a slight embarrassed groan. Then his arm went around your shoulders and he was leading you to the elevator.

He had the drive to his house made in record time.

He had to be speeding most of the way, you thought. You grew worried. Even though he'd said everything was fine, he was acting strangely.

The next thing you knew, he was getting out of the car and coming around to assist you out of the passenger's side. He led you to his porch and then unlocked the front door, going in ahead of you to turn on the foyer's over-head light.

You stepped inside and Seth, being the gentleman, took your purse from you and hung it on one of the coat hooks near the stairs.

You realized suddenly that he'd not said a word since leaving the arena. Tension surged through your body and you had to find out what was going on.

"Seth? You're... worrying me. You've not said anything—at all. Is everything really okay?"

His apologetic gaze shot to yours, and he nodded. "Yeah, sweetheart. Everything is fine. I've just got my mind on something, that's all."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No!" The word tore from his mouth as he shook his head vehemently. Then he groaned and scrubbed his hand down his face. "I'm screwing this up so badly!" He looked over at you. "I promise everything is fine. Really. I just… need to tell you something."

"O-okay. What do you need to tell me," you asked, fidgeting nervously.

Almost shyly, he reached up and brushed the back of his hand across your cheekbone.

"I… I love you. I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I've known it for a long while. I've been dying to tell you."

"You did already though, didn't you," you asked, suddenly remembering the night you were rescued. "At Survivor Series... I was passing out, but I remember your voice...telling me you loved me. Or did I dream that?"

Seth sort of cleared his throat then. "You didn't dream it. I hadn't intended to blurt it out like that. But... I was scared. I didn't know how bad off you were and... the thought crossed my mind that you could..." He swallowed hard and you could've sworn you saw tears welling up in his dark eyes. "I was afraid I might not have the chance to tell you later on."

Your heart felt full as he so genuinely professed his feelings for you. Smiling through tears of your own, you reached up and cupped his face in both your hands. He'd been avoiding your eyes, but now his gaze shifted to yours. "Hey," you murmured, running one of your thumbs soothingly over his cheekbone. "I'm okay. You and Dean saved me—got me to the hospital. And I made it. You don't have to be scared anymore." You smiled softly up at him. "And I love you too, Seth. I've loved you from the first time I laid eyes on you."

Then you urged his face down to yours and kissed him softly; teasing his lips with yours, daring him—begging him to take charge of the kiss.

And take charge... Oh, he did.

With a soft passionate growl, his mouth claimed yours fully. The tip of his warm tongue slipped out and brushed over the seam of your lips, wordlessly asking you to open up to him. As soon as you eagerly parted your lips for him, his tongue entered your mouth and swirled over yours, prodding it to life. You mewled into his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing closer to him; utterly desperate for more of his taste. Seth groaned, and anchored your head back, deepening the kiss even further. Your fingers curled involuntarily, and tangled into his soft hair.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you again. I swear it," He whispered against your lips. "I love you."

"I love you," you said, returning his kisses. "More than you'll ever know."

THE END

[teamchasezwrites]

Taste

Word Count: 7,527

Characters: Roman Reigns/OC

Genre: Smut

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Shameless Smut

Summary: Roman works to undo what an ex boyfriend did.

Author's Note: Just shameless smut here guys. Enjoy!

The door to the hotel room closed with a soft click. The sound echoed in the silence of the room, encased in darkness except for the glow from the digital clock on the bedside table. The red illuminated numbers spoke of the late hour.

Roman grimaced. It was much later than he planned on getting back to the room. Usually his matches fell last on shows and in the event they didn’t, he championed on being the first match. That way he could leave immediately after. With it being the first episode of Raw on Netflix, there was no leaving early.

It almost felt like a movie premiere backstage full of both current and old roster talents. Every WWE and TKO big wigs as well as seemingly every single employee from corporate Netflix and then some. He must have shaken hands a hundred times with faceless, nameless people. It almost felt like a meet and greet with the way people were ushered to and from him.

At least with meet and greets, the people there saw him as something other than a face to make money. Their smiles were genuine. Their eyes filled with awe when they step up to him and not dollar signs.

It was part of the business though. He was just happy he wasn’t the one being paraded around as the company man anymore. He passed that torch last April when he finally lost his status as Undisputed Champion to Cody Rhodes.

Forced to stick around for the entire show, led to after parties that stretched on further than he liked. The mindless small talk, the fake laughter. Slimy smiles and blatant looks of interest. When he caught another hand brushing too low on his stomach with a tight hand, he knew it was time to leave before he created a scene.

Luckily Seth Rollins had enough at the same time and they both caught an Uber back to the hotel.

A smirk curved on his lips. If the Internet Wrestling Community seen him leaving with his former stablemate their heads would explode. He and Seth were supposed to be mortal enemies but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Close friends though not best friends as they once were back where they were new in WWE. Time did that to people and neither held any ill will toward the other. Same with Dean.

Roman let his bag fall from his shoulder. It hit the ground with a soft thud. He braced a hand on the wall and toed off his shoes before making his way into the bathroom. He showered at the arena after his match so he quickly went through his bedtime routine – going to the bathroom and brushing his teeth. He pulled the black band from his hair allowing it to fall just below his shoulders. He ran his fingers through the locks then leaned close to the mirror and inspected his face.

There was a minor gash on the left side of his forehead near the hairline. He wasn’t sure what caused the wound. It happened sometime when Solo threw him over the announce table and hit him with the monitor followed up by the steel steps to the head. Lucky it didn’t bust open. He was certain Netflix wasn’t looking for a blood bath on their first episode. Who knows; maybe they would have liked it. His bloody face would have driven clicks.

He ran a hand over his beard. Trimmed just that afternoon before his match. It was starting to turn a little grey at his chin; two thin streaks near the corners of his mouth. He struggled with letting it go and embracing the grey and getting it dyed to hold on to a youth that his body didn’t feel anymore.

He pulled the black t-shirt over his head and fisted it in his hand as his eyes wondered over his chest. No new bruises developed since he looked back at the arena. He had a nasty one on his shoulder blade and another on his bicep right above his elbow from a shot with the kendo stick. All in all, he came through relatively unscathed.

Heading back into the room, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The t-shirt dropped to the floor near his bag. He dug his phone out of the pocket of his black joggers. The display lit up with notifications he hadn’t gotten to yet after his match. He walked around the side of the bed to where his charger hung off the table from the outlet built into the lamp. Before placing it face down, he turned on the ‘Do-not-Disturb’.

Facing the bed he stared at the mound buried underneath the blankets. His stance softened and his lips twitched with a smile. Her face hidden from view; her head tucked down with the blankets pulled to her chin. The mess of blonde curls fanned out over the dark comforter and pillow. He was shocked the heat wasn’t turned up to a stifling, unbreathable temperature despite being in Los Angeles. He’d never met anyone who was naturally cold in all temps as her.

Sophia Grace.

Their relationship was new. Not quite three months. A wrestler in her own right, Sophia wasn’t on his radar. By the time she made her debut on Raw in 2020, he was moved off the titular show to Smackdown the year before. She was billed as a princess – a snobbish, spoiled, socialite. Until The Judgement Day got ahold of her. With Rhea’s torture and torment, her character eventually turned dark and joined the faction.

That lasted in the months leading up to WrestleMania. Sophia – with the help of Becky Lynch who used her in her feud – finally turned on Rhea to break away from the cruelty inflicted upon her from the onset. Then she was gone from TV until the draft where she was moved to Smackdown. Back to the pink princess-like ring gear and blonde hair but skittish and low self-esteem.

When he returned to Smackdown after surprising everyone at Summer Slam, he noticed the new face and was drawn to the quiet girl with sharp eyes. Roman found himself lingering at the arenas not quick to leave anymore in order to watch her matches, backstage interviews, and in-ring promos. He’d never forget the look on her face when she’d come back through the curtain to Gorilla after facing off with Chelsea Green. He met her eyes while he was putting on his gloves and told her ‘nice job’. Her eyes had widened comically and her face blushed the prettiest color of red. She stuttered out a ‘thank you’ while ducking her head before quickly leaving.

The following week he sat down across from her in catering with nerves in his belly he hadn’t felt in ages. That opened the door to eventually exchanging numbers and texting a lot since he wasn’t at the arena every week. To a first kiss before Bad Blood when she slipped into his dressing room unseen before his match to wish him luck.

Roman pushed his joggers down his legs and stepped out of them as he pulled the blankets back. He slipped beneath the covers and turned onto his side, pulling Sophia back to his chest as he gathered her in his arms. She didn’t wake but shifted against him, pressing her ass into his crotch.

The delicious movement had him flexing his hips, pushing back against her. His cock twitched behind his black Nike briefs showing interest. His fingers caressed her hip displacing the threadbare t-shirt she normally wore to bed. Soon his fingers met warm skin and he pressed his face into her neck. It took him a few back and forth movements on her hip to realize he was touching skin the whole way. That it wasn’t broken up by cotton fabric.

He dropped his palm to her hip on a mission. Up her hip. Down her hip and around to slide over her ass checks. Sweet bare skin welcomed him everywhere. His groan was low at the realization she was naked beneath the t-shirt. He pressed his cock into the soft flesh of her ass once again as his hand dipped down to her stomach beneath the shirt.

His fingers trailed up her belly softly brushing against the underside of her breast free from the restraint of a bra. He nuzzled her neck as he continued to move his hand over her stomach. The tangled mess of hair kept him from pressing his lips against skin. Forced to remove his hand from her shirt, he swept his fingers across her neck, brushing the hair away. With her neck free, he dropped his face again, nuzzling the warm skin. The hint of perfume still on her skin.

Open mouthed kisses peppered her neck. He ducked his hand back beneath her shirt on a mission. His fingers brushed against that round globe, kneading the flesh. Her nipple was pulled in a taunt peak by the time his finger and thumb found it. He rolled the pebble between his digits, giving a small pinch.

Roman’s hand traveled south down her stomach until it encountered the soft curls framing her center. The dark brown a contrast to the blonde on her head. His fingers dipped between her legs, sifting between her folds until he encountered the hidden nub. His fingers teased, circling her clit before slipping his index finger further between her folds until he met her opening, already slick.

Sophia’s hips pressed back against his now hard cock. Her breathing shifted as he pulled her from sleep.

“Roman…” she breathed and parted her thighs allowing his fingers more room between her legs.

“If I knew you were waiting for me like this, I would have followed you right out the door,” Roman murmured against her neck. The newness of their relationship… his status in the company were all reasons they’ve kept their relationship under wraps. They made sure to stay away from each other all night though their eyes met plenty of times across the room. Neither wanted any rumors to start.

Roman didn’t have the heart to tell her both Jimmy and Jey suspected something was going on.

“I thought about sending you a naughty photo to hurry you along…” Sophia cocked her arm behind her to thread her fingers in Roman’s hair. Her leg lifted to cross over Roman’s opening herself up even more. A low moan released from her parted lips as his finger pressed into her. Her insides fluttered around him.

Roman shivered at the thought. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. His pulled his finger out, slick with her juices before pressing back in, groaning feeling her clenching around the digit. “Seeing you in that dress was more than enough motivation to get me back here.”

That red dress Sophia wore had no reason to be as sexy as it was. A simple floor length satin gown with a slit up her thigh. A halter top leaving her back bare with a small plunging neckline to tease the hint of cleavage. When he saw it on her, it took everything he had to force himself to leave the hotel room. He wanted to press kisses on the back of her neck to start, then move down her back to just above the curve of her ass.

Earlier, after the show, he had designs on falling to his knees in front of her where she was seated in a chair with her legs crossed talking to Natalya. That slit freeing her leg. He wanted to hold her foot in his hand and kissed along the delicate ankle bracelet with butterflies all around and up. Feel that smooth skin on his lips. His nose tracing up that perfectly toned calf, his breathing ghosting lightly over her skin, drawing goosebumps. Over the knee to her thigh on display with the daring slit.

“You liked that huh?” A ghost of a smile appeared on Sophia’s lips. Her hips moved with Roman’s finger. Still just the one pressing in and out of her.

“Liked it hell. I’m half tempted to make you put it back on right now,” he growled and nipped at her ear when she turned her head.

Sophia moaned his teeth sank into her lobe. She arched her back sending her ass into his crotch, feeling his hard cock. “That what you want to do? Put more clothes on me?” She rolled her hips in teasing movements. The near growl Roman released in her ear caused warmth to rush through her and liquid to pool at her center.

“What I want you to do, is come all over my fingers.” Roman withdrew his finger from her wet cunt. His finger slicked with her essence. Scooping up that liquid heat he ran up her slit to her clit – swollen with need. His fingers circled around the nub in teasing strokes. He smirked hearing her moan as her hips moved and worked to get his fingers where she wanted them. “What do you need?”

“Please…” Sophia begged. She gripped the blanket in a fist, using the anchor to send her ass deeper into the v of his thighs. She ground her ass into his cock wishing it was skin against skin.

“Please what?” Roman murmured against her neck, nosing along the skin. His hot breath fluttering over her skin. His fingers dipped through her folds, gathering up her wetness before he circled her entrance once, twice then sank two fingers home. His moan blended with hers as her muscles fluttered and clenched around him pulling him deeper inside that heated heaven.

It was hard to get as deep as he wanted from the angle, but he continued to pump in and out of her. He placed kisses on her neck then sucked on that spot directly behind her ear drawing out another moan. Her fingers twisted back in his hair, tangling in the strands to pull his head closer. He rocked against her. His cock trapped beneath his briefs. Hard and ready to replace his fingers.

But he had something else in mind.

Roman withdrew his fingers and shushed her moan of disapproval. “I’m not done with you yet, Baby Girl.”

Sophia let her self be turned over onto her back. Roman came into view for the first time. His face hidden in the darkness of the room. She lifted her hands to cup his cheeks and draw him down to her. Their lips collided. A mesh of teeth and tongues, hot breaths and soft moans. Lips parting, his tongue stroked hers. Long, velvety, hot strokes that caused warmth to coil deep in her belly. Wetness slicked her thighs and she pressed them together searching for friction to alleviate the tingling building.

“Fuck,” Roman tore his lips from hers, gasping for breath. He sat up and tossed a leg over her prone body. His pushed her shirt up her body, tugging at the material caught beneath her. “Lift up,” he whispered.

She lifted the top half of her body enough for Roman to push the shirt up where she gripped the hem and lifted it over her head. Before the article of clothing was even tossed away, Roman’s arms were around her back drawing her to him. She moaned as his hot mouth closed around a nipple. Her arms cradled his head, fingers tangling in his hair as she held him to her breast. Her head fell back, mouth parting in a moan as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

His name left her mouth like a prayer when his teeth bit down causing a zing of pleasure to shoot through her. His tongue offered soothing strokes against the stinging pain. His hands ran up and down her back in teasingly light touches. She let him lay her back on the bed as his arms slipped from behind her. Her back touched the cool sheets as Roman’s mouth switched breasts. His tongue whirling around her nipple before drawing it into his mouth.

As he flicked his tongue over her nipple, his hand palmed her free breast. His finger kneading into the soft mound. He rolled her taunt nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drawing moans from Sophia. Her hips rolled up into him catching air as he held his weight off her. He released her nipple from his mouth, blowing softly over the moistened tip. Sophia shivered beneath him. He placed an opened mouth kiss between her breasts.

Sophia tightened her fingers in his hair to bring his mouth back to hers. Their lips met and she wasted no time licking into his mouth. Moans of pleasure were swallowed. Her tongue stroked and twirled with his as they feasted on each other. Hot and wet they dueled neither relinquishing dominance.

Roman broke the kiss, his body humming with pleasure. He trailed his lips down her cheek to her neck. He smiled against her skin as she arched her neck to him. He placed opened mouth kisses to the skin, leaving behind moisture to dry in the air. He nipped at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, drawing a hiss from Sophia.

As he moved lower, her hands brushed over his arms, down to his elbows and back up. They dipped beneath his arms to his back where her fingers dug into those hard muscles as he latched onto her nipple again. The smell of her arousal hung in the air. Her pussy clenched frantically, desperately begging to be filled. For his thick cock to sink in to her, stretching her in a delicious manner.

“Roman…” she whispered her hips rolling into the air. Her fingers trailed down his back, teasing at the waist band of his underwear. Those tight Nike briefs fit him like a second skin. Hugging the swell of his ass and encasing his large thighs. They left little to the imagination. Showing the outline of his cock. More than once she caught herself licking her lips as he walked around their hotel room wearing nothing else. A few times she actually dropped to her knees in front of him to mouth him through the fabric.

Her hands were unable to grasp his ass where she wanted to use the leverage to press him down on her. “I need you…” Her voice pleading in hopes to entice him to give in.

“Soon,” Roman murmured against her skin as he continued moving down her body. He placed kisses and tiny nips to the skin on her belly. The skin warm and flushed. His intentions clear the lower he got. His tongue dipped into her belly button causing a soft moaning chuckle from her lips. He smiled at the sound. His tongue traced the small butterfly tattoo on her hip. Tracing the lines much like he did the first time he’d seen the delicate tattoo, hidden from the masses. A little secret shared between them.

As he moved lower, her hands gripped in his hair. Painfully as she refused to let his head go lower. He sighed, his gut sinking as once again his plans of burying his face in her sweet smelling pussy was thwarted. “Soph…” he pleaded, tilting his head up to look at her. “Let me eat you…”

Roman couldn’t believe the words even had to be spoken. Never had he ever had any issue with not being able to eat a woman out. The one night stands always sang his praises with his oral activities. All of his girlfriends practically begged him to get between their legs. There was nothing he loved more than shuffling down the bed, parting soft thighs, and burying his tongue deep between swollen, wet folds. Teasing the clit, drawing it between his lips with little sucks. Long licks between the folds from entrance to clit. Burying his tongue so deep inside, his nose pressed against their clit. Feeding off her orgasm as he lapped up every bit she had to offer him.

That was second to laying on the bed and pulling a woman down on his face – her thighs on either side of his head as she gripped the headboard. Her sinking down on him, stealing his breath. Her hips inundating on his face as she rocked against the feeling of his tongue buried up in her. His arms wrapped around her thighs holding her to his face not allowing her to get away even as his lungs burned and started to burst from lack of air.

But she wouldn’t let him. Ever since their first time back in early November after he returned from Crown Jewel in Saudi Arabia, he was unable to get her to let him bury his tongue inside her. His fingers could bring her powerful orgasms that had her screaming out his name. He could send his dick home with one single hard thrust. Anytime his mouth got close to the forbidden fruit between her thighs, she’d redirect his advances.

He tried not to take it personally. It was possible Sophia didn’t like oral sex. That would have been easier to believe if she hadn’t dropped to her knees in a shared shower swallowing him whole. Allowing his fingers to tangle in her wet hair guiding her movements on his cock until he was exploding in her mouth. If she hadn’t nudged him out of an angry frustration in his living room by nuzzling her face into his clothed crotch, mouthing at his cock until he was moaning in tiny gasps, his head tossed back against the cushion when she finally drew his joggers down and taken him inside the warmth of her mouth.

Roman couldn’t see the look on her face in the darkness of the room. Her head was a mix of shadows and he watched as she turned it to the side hiding from him. A feeling a dread settled into his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was push her into something she didn’t like. If he never got his lips on her pussy so be it. He wasn’t ready to give this woman up.

He lifted himself from her body and crawled back up the bed to lay by her side. He worked his arm beneath her and rolled her into his side. Tucking her head on his shoulder he kissed her forehead as he breathed deeply in hopes of calming his body down. His cock pulsed still trapped beneath his briefs. Hard almost to the point of painful. Begging to be freed. Begging to slip between her thighs.

“Roman?” Sophia’s questioning voice echoed in the silence of the room. Her brows drawn down in confusion at him putting the breaks on their coupling. Her hand moved across his chest, her fingers dancing over the warm smooth skin.

“It’s okay Soph,” Roman cupped her hand and brought it to his lips to press a kiss on her knuckles. He rested their entwined hands back on his chest, blowing out a breath as he stared up at the ceiling.

“No,” Sophia pushed into a sitting position. Goosebumps broke out over her skin against the cool air in the room and loss of Roman’s body heat. Her own body heat cooling with Roman pulling away. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” She waited for his answer, a lump rising in her throat the longer he stayed silent. The thought of their relationship teetering on the brink of a crack had tears building in the corner of her eyes. “Roman…”

The uncertainty in Sophia’s tone had Roman coming to a seated position. Placing his weight on an outstretch arm behind her, he cupped her chin. His fingers moving lightly over the skin as he brushed her hair from her face. He lowered his head and softly kissed her lips. His tongue licked a tender stripe across her bottom lip. When her lips parted on a sigh to let him in, he met her tongue with long, gentle strokes as he lazily explored, stroking the embers of the dying heat between them.

“Roman,” Sophia whispered again when the kiss broke as slowly as it started. “Please tell me what’s wrong…”

“I need to know something,” Roman started. His mind worked furiously to put the words he wanted to say in the correct order and with the correct meaning. He didn’t want to come off as smarmy douche who was only looking for a way to push her into a position she doesn’t want to be in. “Since we’ve been together…and I mean intimately…every time I get close to going down on you, you push my head away. You offer up very persuasive distractions that I usually don’t realize I’ve fallen for until we’re both on the verge of falling asleep that you’ve once again derailed my intentions. I just want to know why you won’t let me eat you out. I’ve been dying to get my mouth on that pussy Soph…”

Sophia’s eyes widened momentarily at Roman’s unexpected words before they glazed over. Her skin flushed warm. Her body tingled at the raunchiness. Heat coiled deep in her belly. Wetness gathered at her center. “Roman…” she moaned softly. Her body warmed by his words.

“Just tell me. If you don’t like it, that’s okay. I won’t push…”

Sophia dropped her chin to chest. This time the flush on her cheeks came from embarrassment. She’d known this would eventually come up. After all, she’d given him a blow job plenty of times. Had explored his body with her hands and lips equally. Yet she never let him do the same. Always thwarting his advances when he neared her center. “I…it’s my ex…He didn’t like it.”

“Well he’s obviously a douche,” Roman said matter-of-factly. He couldn’t imagine not liking it. It’s like a powerful drug, loving a pussy with your tongue. The ability to bring pleasure with the flick of a tongue. Bringing her so close to the edge and backing off with soft lazy strokes. Kissing her thighs, nipping at the creases, watching as she gets slicker. Licking through her arousal and the heady scent that fills his nostrils, completely consuming him.

“But what does that have to do with me?” Roman’s voice was rough. Just imagining the act had his cock coming back to life. It was hard and heavy in his briefs.

“He... he didn’t like how I tasted and smelled…” Sophia wished the floor would open up and swallow her. The only reason she was even able to get through the conversation was the fact they were shroud in darkness. “He also had a beard and would… get angry because it… my smell would get c-caught in it. He’d have to shower immediately and even then… he’d complain about still being able to smell it and I…I even went to the doctor’s thinking something was wrong with me, but everything came back clean. So I just…” she shrugged, at a loss for words. “You have a beard. And I would never ask for you to shave… or even assume I had the right. I didn’t want to go through that again. So I just tried to let you think I didn’t like it, hoping you would stop trying…”

Roman was surprised the bed wasn’t vibrating from the uncontrolled anger currently rolling through his body. “Your ex was a fucking douche.”

Laughter sputtered from Sophia at Roman’s words. “I can agree to that.”

“Do you like it?”

“Like what?” Sophia’s eyes narrowed in confusion. She wasn’t sure what Roman was talking about.

“Do you like it when a man buries his face between your legs like he’s dying for a drink and your sweet nectar is the only thing available?” Roman’s voice was low, nearly a growl. He was done letting that asshole stop her from experiencing immense pleasure. He smirked hearing her breath catch in the quietness of the room. “Because Sweetheart that’s what I feel like… dying to get my lips on your pretty pussy.” He leaned forward his breath dancing over her ear. He trailed his fingers over her collarbone and down her arm. Light, fluttering caresses. “Dying to split you with my tongue as I lap up your juices like a starving man. I want your taste to explode in my mouth. I want to be completely consumed by your scent.”

“Roman…” she gasped her body trembling with need. Her cunt slick with arousal.

“Let me go down on you,” he whispered hotly. His hand palmed the back of her neck, his fingers tangling with her hair as he laid her down. “Let me get my beard between your thighs. Let me lick that pussy from slit to clit. Let me tease your clit with my tongue. Let me feel your come on my tongue. Coat my beard in your pussy juice. I wanna be able to catch a hint of your sweet perfume tomorrow on the plane ride home making me hard as a rock… Let me baby…”

He trailed a hand down her body and through her curls. He moaned as he fingers encountered her drenched pussy. “Oh Baby, you’re so wet for me…” He slid two fingers through the wetness to her hole where he slowly pressed inside. Her body once again greedily accepting him. Each clench of her inner walls pulling him deeper into her heat.

“Roman… please…” Sophia moaned rocking her hips into his hand. His palm sitting just right over her clit. The friction releasing shockwaves, zapping down her legs moving against the sheet in jerking motions in search of pleasure.

“Please what Baby?” He whispered in her ear, trailing his nose over her cheek as his fingers rocked in and out of her. His lips hovered above hers. Both mouths parted, breathes mixing. His hair falling down around his face hanging almost like curtains. He watched her eyes clench shut and he wished for a light so he could watch the emotions shooting through them.

“Roman…”

“Tell me…”

Sophia gasped as Roman’s fingers curled forward pressing against that rigid piece of flesh hidden on her front wall. Swollen with need. She released the bedsheet from her fisted hand and fisted the back of Roman’s head. She yanked him down to her lips. Taking advantage of the way his lips parted, her tongue shot forwards, twisting and twirling with his. Seeking and exploring every inch. “Put your mouth on me,” she said against his lips. Her breath coming in hot gasps as she nipped his bottom lip. “I need it…God please…” She tossed her head back. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Her impending orgasm rising rapidly from deep within.

Roman’s smile was nearly predatory at her words. His eyes darkened in desire. His cock pulsed as come beaded on the tip soaking into his briefs. Saliva settled on his tongue at the impending feast about to come his way. “Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled his fingers, slick with her arousal, from her body.

There was no time for soft kisses and teasing nips as Roman made his way down her body. Next time he swore he would give her the royal treatment of working his way down her body before he reached her center. But he was too far gone. Almost feral like. He needed his face between her thighs immediately.

“Turn around, let me suck you,” Sophia whispered as Roman settled between her thighs.

“Oh no Baby Girl,” he placed a kiss on the inside of either of her thighs. He called himself names in his head for once again bypassing the teasing strokes of his beard against those sensitive patches of skin. ‘Next time,’ he told himself firmly. Next time when he started kissing down her neck he wouldn’t stop until she was trembling in his arms, gasping for breath with her taste on his tongue and her slickness covering his beard. “This is all about you.”

Then he dove in.

He nearly wept in pleasure the moment his tongue met those swollen puffy lips, slicked with her heady, musky scent. He did release a low grown as his tongue swiped through her folds, picking up her tangy essence. It exploded on his tongue and he was hooked. He pressed his face deeper into her. His nose brushing against that swollen nub hiding up at the top of her folds. Right now, he had other plans. Sticking his tongue out, he speared her hot center. His tongue sinking into her heat. Like an explorer mining for minerals, he lapped and teased every inch of her heat, extracting that gooey goodness.

Sophia’s eyes slammed shut as a loud moan filled the room. Hers. Roman’s mouth was otherwise occupied. She’d blush at the thought if she could pull her faculties together. Her brain went offline the moment he buried his tongue deep inside her sex. Synapsis firing and misfiring sending short little zingers to every hidden recess of her body. Her body arched up, her back bowing off the bed, sending her hips further into his mouth. Her mouth open in a soundless scream as he licked and slurped at her pussy.

“Oh God Roman…” Sophia panted. The fingers of her right hand tangled in his hair in a stinging grip. She held him to her center as her hips rocked into his tongue. That wicked little muscle swirling and twirling in tantalizing motions up and down her swollen lips. Pressing deep into her slit like a starving man receiving his final meal and her body responded. Releasing that molten liquid on his tongue in an effort to satisfy.

Roman moaned as the liquid gushed from Sophia coating his beard. He drank everything she had to offer. He wrapped his arms under and around her thighs. His hands pressing down on either side of her hips to quell some of the movements. He couldn’t wait until he could get her to sit on his face with the way her hips swirled and rocked. Riding his face the same way she rode his cock, except it would be his tongue deep inside her body with her come saturating his beard.

He licked up her folds, gathering up every bit of her essence her body offered him. His tongue danced around her clit. He gave the nub a nudge with his tongue. The reaction was instantaneous of her thighs closed around her head and her hips bucked into his face. Her moan was low and he heard the swish of movement across fabric. He raised his eyes and once again wished for light. He could make out her head tossed back. Her breasts two soft mounds jutting up from her chest. Each nipple pulled into stiff peaks. Her arm was cocked next to her head, gripping the pillow in a death grip.

He was consumed by her. Every single one of his senses was her. The taste of her on his tongue and in his mouth. Her intoxicating scent burying itself deep within. The feel of her soft skin beneath his hands and her rocking against his face. Her breathy moans and soft gasps filling his ears. The sight of her body in the throes of passion, muscles rigid as the tension built up within. It would keep building and building until it finally snapped and that’s what he wanted. That tension to snap to send her spinning on clouds of ecstasy. Where her body would ride on a wave of euphoria until it crested sending her crashing back down where he could catch her with soft kisses and languid strokes of his hands to quell her quivering body.

“Give it to me,” Roman growled. His strokes turned stark and true. On a mission to bring her into sweet ecstasy. To rid her mind of the horrid ex who made her feel like she couldn’t enjoy something her body so clearly loved. “Give it to me Soph… I want it all.”

“Roman…” She moaned deep and long, her head tossed back. The tendons in her next stretched taunt. The heat in her belly deepened with every lick and nip of Roman’s mouth. His tongue dipped into her quivering hole before swiping back up through the folds slick with not only his spit but her fluids. His hardened tongue licked over her clit, swollen and pulsing. A direct line to the tension in her belly that kept winding and winding.

The assault on her clit continued and her hips jerked wildly. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to get away from the stimulation or press closer. Roman held her hips to the bed in a tight grip. His fingers pressing firmly into her skin she was sure he’d leave bruising behind. The thought caused her to gush. The warm spurt of liquid rolling down from her hole to the bedsheets beneath her. She clenched at the emptiness inside of her. She wished he’d send his cock home with one snap of his hips. She whined at the thought just as Roman’s lips closed around her clit and sucked.

The tension snapped free and she shouted out his name as her body jerked. Her hips rocked wildly on his face as her thighs clamped shut, trapping Roman in place. Her pussy convulsed releasing a gush of liquid that was quickly lapped up by a warm tongue. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she gasped for breath as the tension slowly released from her body. She melted back onto the sheets. Almost in a dreamy, drowsy-like state. After shocks caused minor tremors. Little twitches on her feet and hands.

“Fuck,” Roman groaned when he finally pulled his head away from Sophia’s pussy after he finished drinking what her body had to offer him. Quivering through the intense orgasm. He placed soft kisses on the insides of her thighs and on top of her mound. He just found his new favorite past time. Sophia would be having a hard time keeping him away from her pussy going forward. He couldn’t get enough. He ran a hand over his mouth and down his beard in a chin cupping motion. The soft hairs on his chin were drenched. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Her intoxicated scent filled his nostrils from where it lingered on his moustache. His whole body shivered before heading back at his cock. Weeping and painfully hard.

He pushed himself from the bed to push his briefs down. They fell to the floor forgotten. He took his cock in his hand and groaned at the feeling. His member was hot and hard in his hand and he bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep from coming. From spilling his seed all over his hand and the floor.

“Roman come here…”

His eyes opened at the soft whisper. He could see Sophia leaning up on an elbow with one arm stretched out to him, beckoning him. Like a leash around his neck, he couldn’t refuse. Roman kneeled on the bed and crawled over her body as she lay back. Her thighs parting on either side of his – welcoming him.

“I’m not going to last long,” he whispered, his body trembling with built up desire.

“I don’t care,” Sophia stated as she raised her hands to cup his bearded cheeks. Her thumbs ran over his lips. Meeting in the middle then fanning back toward her index fingers. The pads moving over those soft lips moistened with the telltale sign of her orgasm. She almost felt embarrassed by the fact, but instead she felt embolden. Lifting her neck she met those lips with hers.

His lips parted in offering as she licked along his bottom lip giving a soft moan as she chased her taste into his mouth. Her pussy filled with slick once again, her body trembling with need. “I need you in me…”

Roman reached down between them, gripping his cock in his hand. He ran the head through her folds causing her to moan from his heated arousal. He placed his head at her open and lifted his head, to stare down at her.

“I don’t need soft.”

With a groan Roman’s hips snapped forward sending his cock in to the hilt with one thrust. Their moans blended together as his hips rest against her. Her pussy stretched around him. His jaw clenched as he breathed heavily in an effort to stop himself from coming immediately. Her legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to sink further and he tossed his head back.

“Fuck me Roman,” Sophia whispered, squeezing her thighs around his waist. “I need you.”

Roman pulled out slowly his cock covered in her slick creamy juices. He thrust back in quickly and set a torrid pace. His biceps were bulging, rippling corded muscles with throbbing veins holding his weight. His ass clenched with each snap of his hips. His length sliding in and out of her pussy, clutching his cock so tightly each time in an effort to keep him deep inside. The fluttering of her muscles around him nearly made him cross eyed.

He slammed in to her with a bruising force but her legs only tightened around his waist. Her fingers clutched at his biceps. Her nails nearly piercing the skin leaving behind almond shaped divots. Roman’s face contorted in pleasure. A sheen of moisture layered his body. He lifted his right hand from the bed threading it under Sophia down to her back where he pressed up, changing the angle of his thrusts.

Sophia screamed as an orgasm ripped through her like a wave tossing a ship at sea. Her pussy clenched down hard on his cock and her body spasmed.

Roman’s hips snapped forward once twice more before he slammed home a third time. A roar was ripped from the deep trenches of his soul as his orgasm crashed over him. His vision whited out. His cock pulsed and pulsed as his come shot out coating the inside of Sophia’s pussy. He moaned against the spasms of her pussy around his cock as she suffered through her own orgasmic pleasure.

Then the tension was gone as quick as it arrived. Roman slipped from her body falling onto the bed beside her. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Little tremors still coursed through his body. He was covered in sweat. Heat radiated off his body and he wanted to turn the AC in the room down to arctic temps. His hair clung to his neck in a bothersome manner. He couldn’t move. His muscles no longer worked. His brain felt like it was offline and it needed time to reboot.

The bed shifted and he blinked his eyes opened to see Sophia staring down at him. It took all the strength he could muster to thread his fingers through her hair and pull her down to rest her head on his shoulder.

Silence filled the room as they laid pressed against each other. Their heart rates slowly returning to normal. His fingers combed through her hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands gliding between his fingers.

“So I was thinking…”

“How are you thinking already?” Roman murmured his eyes closed just enjoying the feel of her next to him.

A cocky grin grew on Sophia’s face. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to Roman’s slick skin. “We’re both supposed to check out of here tomorrow… maybe we check in to somewhere else a little more private before I need to fly to Portland Friday morning.” She was scheduled to appear on Smackdown that Friday. Roman however wasn’t scheduled to appear on the show until the end of the month right before Royal Rumble.

“What do you propose we do to entertain ourselves for the next three days?” Roman smiled at the idea. He was flying back to Tampa the next day while Sophia was choosing to hang out in LA for the next few days instead of flying across country to turn around and fly back across it a few days later.

“I have a few ideas… the first one being to sit on your face.” Sophia shrieked when he moved with a quickness she didn’t know he had at the moment. She found herself under him with his body pressing hers into the mattress.

“Sit on my face huh?” Roman leaned down and pressed a teasing kiss to her lips. He angled his head before pressing his lips to hers again. A sweet kiss with soft brushes of tongues against lips. Her arms wound around her neck anchoring her to him.

“You’ve unleashed a monster…” Her eyes widened feeling his hard cock pressing into her belly.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Roman smirked as he rubbed his awakened cock along the curve of her hip. “Sophia,” her name dripping from his lips like velvet as he once again pushed into her drawing a moan.

Sophia hummed in response as lightning flooded her core.

“Book that fucking hotel.”

[caramara3]

How Could You | Damian Priest

Warnings: it's just sad.

A/N: Sooo... this is actually a rework of an old Seth Rollins one-shot I had made years back, but I decided to revamp it into a Damian Priest one-shot. This has absolutely no tie-in to Just Friends whatsoever.

Word Count: 2.9k

Enjoy!

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice comes over the loudspeaker:

“EIGHTH FLOOR.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, you watch your best friend and maid of honor Sydney step off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Coast is clear,” she whispers.

You nod and push off the safety bar, throwing the thick strap of your purse over your shoulder. You grab hold of your carry-on and step off the elevator.

Sydney places a hand on the swell of your back while the other pulls her suitcase. Your gaze falls to the floor as the two of you walk down the hall, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern as she scans the placards on the wall looking for the right room. Every so often you could feel her eyes practically burning a hole through before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards. 

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the arena over an hour ago you'd barely spoken a single word. Not to her, not to Rhea, no one. You were catatonic. 

But who could blame you? After what you had just seen, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in your shoes.

As you continued down the hall, you could feel the consistent buzzing of your phone through the thin fabric of the hoodie. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

It almost felt like with every step you took, the phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Normally you would have answered by now. But instead, you chose to ignore whoever it was and kept going. 

You finally reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a door marked 827. Sydney pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slides it into the automated lock. A few buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher you into the room, following close behind.

Placing your purse on the dresser, you look around at what would be your new home for the night. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard. 

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows you’d have ever seen in your life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol. 

The one thing that did make the room stand out was the incredible view. Floor-to-ceiling window panels centered on the main wall of the room leveled with the New York skyline, showcasing a near perfect image of the city. There was even a clear view of the Empire State Building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city you couldn’t help to think about how different life was a few hours ago. You were engaged to the love of your life. You were in the final countdown before the big day, less than a week. You were at your rehearsal dinner downtown surrounded by your closest friends and family, all gathered to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. 

But all of that seemed so long ago now.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? 

But before you could think of an answer to your question, the sound of boots clacking across the hardwood floor brought you back to reality.

“Well,” Sydney says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” 

“Fine?” she snorts, “Y/N, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

You hear movement from behind and see a light flicker on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Y/N you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Y/N the floors are heated!!”

But you don’t move. You don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, you stay seated in silence, holding yourself as you gaze out into the city and its nightlife. 

You observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while your mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape as your mind begins to torture you with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. Your brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years.

You were desperate to find any little detail you missed, something that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared you for what would eventually happen.

But you found nothing.

No hints, no little clues. 

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Y/N don’t be alarmed, but the night before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé with some random woman bent over a table.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t felt the bed dip, nor did you flinch when you felt a set of arms pull you into an embrace, resting your head under Sydney’s chin. One hand settled at the swell of your back, tracing small circles with her finger, the other gently stroked your hair. Sydney had been your best friend ever since you were both in diapers, you knew just how much it pained her to see you like this; this deflated catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly best friend. You knew she probably had a million questions for you, but rather than bombard you, she said nothing and just held you. 

Throughout your nearly three decades of friendship, there was never a time in your life where you couldn’t rely on her to be there for you wherever you needed the most. And tonight was definitely one of those moments when you needed her.

The two of you stayed in this comfortable silence for seemed like forever, just staring out into the night as she held you. 

“You feel like talking about it?” you hear her ask, her voice just above a whisper.

You say nothing.

“Ok, that’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it yet. We’ve got tomorrow to figure everything out, but tonight,” she pauses, leaping from the bed, “tonight we are getting shit faced.”

Once again you say nothing but watch as she makes her way over to the wet bar. You knew what Sydney was trying to do. First she would pump you with some top shelf liquor, order a bunch of room service, and then put on your favorite horror movies to get you in a relaxed and neutral state while she did damage control. 

Unfortunately, Freddy Krueger and tequila weren't going to fix this problem. Not this time.

“Tell you what. Why don’t I call Rhea and see where she and Bianca are with the rest of your things, and then I’ll see if I can wrangle us up some food. How does that sound?”

You think it over for a moment before nodding in agreement.

A smile forms on Sydney’s face. “Awesome. What do you feel like? We could do chinese, pizza, maybe some Thai food? I could see if room service is still available…?”

You look over at her, her hazel eyes meeting yours. “Could we do a little bit of everything?”

A small laugh escapes Sydney’s mouth. “Hell yea we can! I’ll even get some ice cream from that bodega we passed down the street. Why don’t you change out of that dress, take a nice hot shower, and I’ll start getting everything ready.”

You give her a small smile and with one final hug from her she grabs her purse and heads out, leaving you alone. You slide off the bed and walk around the large room. You stop in front of one of the many conveniently placed touch screen panels on the wall. Scanning over it, you find an app called Night and tap it. Instantly, large panels begin descending over the large window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding the skyline away for the night.

You move about the room making your way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it. Sydney was right, this was an incredible bathroom, like something straight out of Architectural Digest. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors, there were heated marble countertops, eucalyptus scented plush Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary plush bathrobes with matching slippers, full-sized bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and shower wall panels on the front and side walls.

On the outside of the shower was another touch screen panel to control the shower. You look it over for a few moments, looking over your choices before choosing the one labeled “rainfall.” The overhead showerheads come alive and water begins to rain down, quickly filling the bathroom with steam.

Moving back to the sink you look at the wide selection of skincare products laid out when you felt your phone begin its incessant vibrating once again. But rather than ignore it like before, you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and stare at the screen.

The first thing you see is your background. It was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together, Halloween 2022. The two of you had dressed up as Frankenstein and The Bride of Frankenstien. You were looking at the camera but his eyes were focused solely on you, a smile stretched across his face as he did.

You unlock your screen and view the notifications: over a dozen missed calls. Dozens of voicemails. Way too many damn unread text messages.

With a sigh, you begin scrolling through the list of missed calls, seeing one name appear more often than others.

Damian.

Damian.

Rhea.

Bianca.

Damian.

Damian.

Kayden.

Finn.

Dominik.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

Bianca.

Finn.

Damian.

Rhea.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

The nerve he had to call you, the absolute nerve. What in the hell would make him think you wanted to hear anything that he had to say? Did he think that simple sorry was going to change everything? Or was he calling to explain that what you had seen wasn’t what you thought it was.

You toss your phone onto the counter in annoyance before walking back into the main room, not caring much where it landed. You free yourself of your hoodie, your dress, and the rest of your clothes. You grab two of the plush bath towels underneath the sink, placing one on the back of the toilet and place the other on a hook outside of the shower. You grab one of the bottles of complimentary body wash and open the shower door, the rush of steam engulfing you as you step inside.

You move to stand directly underneath the showerhead, letting the warm cascade over your body. The sound of water splashing against the tiles echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out your own thoughts as your mind displayed every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ ever said playing on an endless loop in your mind, attempting to pinpoint the moment where everything changed.

Meeting for the time wrestling on the indies. Meeting again after signing your WWE contract. The night he first asked you out, the night he first said I love you, the night you first made love. Meeting each other’s families. 

You try to shake these thoughts from your mind, but it won’t work. No matter what else you attempt to think about, no matter what other happy memories you attempt to form in your head, nothing can keep them at bay. A few stray tears push their way out but you’re quick to wipe them away.

No, you thought. You are not going to do this Y/N. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

You reach to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...    

And that’s when you noticed it. The tan line on your finger, now completely visible on your left hand that only a few hours ago bore the beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring. 

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come. 

Until the night of WrestleMania 37, just hours after you retained your title against Asuka and watched him compete in his first Mania alongside Bad Bunny. The two of you found yourselves back in your shared hotel room, bodies entangled with one another, holding you close against his chest when he would whisper in your ear the two words that would freeze time around you both:

Marry me.

He would reach over to the bedside table next to the bed and pull out a small black box. He would tell you just how much he loved you, how he has always loved you from the moment he met you, how he doesn't wish to spend another day on this earth without you. Then he would slip the dainty ring on your finger and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him.  

Now that finger is bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back at him after what had happened.

And just like that, it all came crumbling down. That false sense of reality you created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and had smacked you dead in the face.

Damian Priest, the love of your life, the man you were set to marry tomorrow, had been cheating on you. 

And you had caught him tonight. 

Your legs carried you backward until your back hit the wall of the shower. A wave of nausea swirls all around your empty stomach and your chest tightens like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was from the shower. 

Three years of your life, all gone in a flash. Plans for the future, for children, traveling the world… all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true now.  

Your body sank to the ground and before you knew it you were curled up into a ball, sobbing into your knees as the water turned from warm to cold. 

But you didn’t care. Your head swam with half-formed regrets. Your heart felt as if your blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. 

There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now engulfed you in the swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.  

TagList:

@terrortwinunicorn @damiansgoodgirll @rootedinrevisions @thedeboniardevistation @beibigirl124 @bonni-98 @queencherryberry @queenoftheworldisdead @kalliravenne @neversatisfiedgirl @mzv11 @sassymox @blueblazezz @madhatterbri @royallyprincesslilly @southerngirl41 @abadbitchblogs @miss-kuki-nz @shamaness11 @cookiebelle @flawlessglamazon @lavitabella87 @chaneajoyyy @adriennegabriella @gold--gucciempress @msbigredmachine @fivefootxo @joy-of-life88 @joannasteez @wrestlingbabe @daniiwrites @trippinsorrows @lorena26 @babiidee28 @yana3sworld @disc0fairy @eringobragh420 @bossbitch-22 @kultklassickiller @hotmessexpressssss @writinglionqueen @retro-rezz-the-est

[dirtywrestling]

Next Wrestler To Write About!

[bijouxcarys]

Prove It (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Description: They work together, they travel together, they're around each other almost 24/7. So, why is it so damn hard for them to be alone when they need it? Oh, that's right... it's a secret.

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, smut, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public escapades, Roman being a lil menace, secret affairs, fluffy undertones...

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I have used everyone's real names (apart from where Sasha references Ambrose). The superstars included are Roman, Becky Lynch, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley, Sasha Banks, and Liv Morgan.

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen (if you'd like to be added to the tag list for any future Roman fics, just let me know in the replies/reblog!)

The door to the hotel room swung open, a chorus of laughter and chatter spilling out into the hallway. It had been a gruelling week on the road, and the whole lot of them were ready for some much-needed relaxation. Thankfully, a majority of the rooms down that particular hallway were occupied by WWE Superstars, so noise complaints were a slimmer chance than usual.

Using her and Gionna’s hotel room as a gathering spot wasn’t on Y/N’s to-do list, but when conversation struck up in the car about having a night of relaxation, to let go a little, Gi was more than eager to offer up the room. That was Gi for you; more like her Liv alter ego than even she cared to admit.

Not that Y/N was mad of course; these people were practically family.

“Someone get the drinks?” Gi called out, scrunching her nose up to push her clear-framed glasses further up as she plopped down on one of the beds, her blonde hair splayed out behind her.

“I got ‘em, relax,” Colby replied, holding up two six-packs with a grin. He cracked one open and handed it to her, settling onto the floor next to Jon, who was already mid-story.

“So, there I am, right? Middle of this tiny-ass town, and I can’t find the damn gym anywhere,” Jon was saying, his voice animated. “GPS is telling me I’m there, but I’m lookin’ at a freakin’ cornfield!”

“Classic Ambrose move,” Mercedes laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the wall. “A terrible sense of direction.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! Technology hates me,” Jon shot back, taking a swig from his beer.

Leaning over the group from her place on the bed, Y/N accepted a can from Colby, her eyes involuntarily capturing those she knew would be hard to refrain from the entire night. Gazes locked with the man standing just behind where Colby sat, arms folded; his tank top allowed for a perfect view of his tensing muscles under the gorgeous tan of his complexion. It was a look that spoke volumes—intense, secretive, and heavy.

Considering the close-knit nature of the wrestling world, it was an impressive feat that Joe and Y/N had managed to keep their affair under wraps.

“Who knew we’d all end up here tonight?” Mercedes said, her voice cutting through the din as she reclined on the floor, back pressed against the side of Gi’s bed.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch for lettin’ up the room, Y/N,” Becky added, raising her bottle of water in a mock toast.

“Don’t be thanking me, thank Barbie over there,��� Y/N nodded towards Gi, who simply shot a thumbs up in her direction as a response. “But yeah, I mean it’s nice to have a moment to just… be.”

“Amen to that,” Joe said, his deep voice rumbling as he grabbed a drink from the pack Colby brought.

Jon snorted from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, because being crammed into a tiny hotel room is so much better than our own rooms.”

“Hey, at least it’s free entertainment,” Colby retorted, tossing a pillow at Jon, who caught it with a lazy grin.

“Free entertainment, huh? Guess that makes you the clown,” Jon shot back, eliciting laughs from everyone.

“Better than being the guy who gets thrown out of bars,” Colby quipped, throwing his arm around Becky with a cocky grin towards Jon. Colby and Becky were truly in the throes of a honeymoon period. It was a task just getting him to own up to the fact that he liked Becky in more ways than one, so when they finally decided to screw everything and officially become a couple—PDA and all—it was a relief. Finally, the two people who practically pined over each other for at least a year, had gotten their shit, and themselves, together.

The night wore on with more stories, jabbing at one and other, and moments over the last week that were becoming fond memories. At some point, pizza boxes were ordered and devoured, and the room’s occupants settled into various positions of comfort—or as close to comfort as they could get in the cramped space. Joe had claimed a spot on the floor near Y/N’s bed, leaning back against the wall with a relaxed posture that belied what was going through his head.

“Man, I could get used to this,” Mercedes said, stretching out on the floor. “Better than passing out alone in my room.”

“Yeah,” Becky agreed, earning an offended glance from Colby. “We should do this more often, is what I’m sayin’, babe, relax.”

“Just as long as he,” Jon pointed directly at Becky’s boyfriend, “promises to keep his snoring to a minimum.”

“I don’t snore!” Colby protested.

“You absolutely do!” Gi pointed out, honestly scaring the crap out of everyone since they all just assumed she’d passed out across her bed.

Y/N found herself increasingly distracted by Joe’s presence. Every laugh, every shift of his body, every low rumble of his voice seemed to pull her attention like a magnet. She could feel his eyes on her intermittently, a silent conversation playing out between them that no one else in the room could hear.

“Y/N, remember that time we got lost tryin’ to find that diner?” Becky asked, breaking Y/N’s reverie.

“Oh my God, don’t,” Y/N laughed, recalling the memory. “We ended up in the middle of nowhere, and you were convinced we were gonna end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries.”

“I was being cautious!” Becky protested, lifting her hands up. “You never know with those back roads, they’re frickin’ dodgy!”

“That’s why I always use GPS,” Joe interjected smoothly, and deeply, sending a wave of chills over Y/N’s body, though she did a damn good job at hiding it.

“Excuse me, did I not just tell you about my cornfield trauma as a result of GPS earlier?” Jon called out.

“You made it eventually, man, calm down,” Joe chuckled with a roll of his eyes.

As the night wore on, the energy in the room began to wane. Conversations quieted to soft murmurs and the occasional chuckle, as everyone started to feel the weight of the week on the road.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Colby said, stretching out his arms and yawning. “I’m too beat to head back to my room. Mind if I crash here?”

“You can take the floor, Rollins,” Jon muttered from his foetal position in the armchair, his eyes half-closed. “Ain’t no way I’m movin’.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mercedes chimed in, curling up in a corner with a pillow Gi threw at her. “Too tired to move.”

Becky looked around at the group, her eyes landing on Y/N. “Looks like we’re all stopping in here. Hope you don’t mind, love.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied with a smile. “It’s nice having everyone here, and I’m sure that one doesn’t mind.” She glanced over at Gi, who was already on the precipice of slumber.

“It is kinda nice,” Becky nodded. “Feels like a big ol’ sleepover.”

“Except with more muscles and less gossip,” Colby quipped with an amused chortle.

Joe had stuck to the spot on the floor near Y/N’s bed. He glanced up at her as she climbed into the sheets, their eyes meeting once again in the dim light.

As the others began to settle in, finding whatever space they could to lay down, the room slowly descended into a comfortable silence. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle were the only sounds that broke the silence.

Y/N laid back against her pillows, her thoughts drifting. She felt Joe’s presence nearby like a physical touch, a comforting and exhilarating reminder of their secret. She turned her head slightly, catching his eye in the dark.

“You okay?” Joe whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, her lips curving into a smile. “You?”

“Better now,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her face.

Her pulse quickened. They were surrounded by their friends, all blissfully unaware of the silent conversation happening right under their noses. The thrill of the secrecy only made the moment more intense.

“Think they have any idea?” she asked in a hushed tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Joe smirked. “Not a clue. We’re good at this.”

“Guess we are,” she replied, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

A quiet laugh escaped Joe’s lips, and he shook his head slightly. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Y/N grinned. “You love it.”

“Damn right I do,” he said softly, eyes glued to her.

They shared a long, meaningful look, the best they could in the limited light. They both knew the risks of being discovered, but in that fleeting moment, it didn’t matter. They were together, and that was enough.

“Night, Y/N,” Joe whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Night, Joe,” she replied, equally as gentle.

With a final lingering look, they both turned away, settling into their respective spots. The room was filled with the quiet sounds of their friends, but for Joe and Y/N, the silence couldn’t be louder.

She woke up around 3am, the room shrouded in darkness save for the faint glow from the streetlights outside. She shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, when she felt it—his gaze. Slowly, she turned her head and found Joe propped up on one arm with his phone in his hand. His face was illuminated only by the device.

Seriously? You couldn’t have just stayed asleep? She thought to herself, a mix of amusement and frustration bubbling up inside her. Here they were, in a room full of their sleeping friends, with Joe looking like a whole meal doing the bare minimum. The absurdity and excitement was so much for her to handle.

She gave him a pointed look when he finally took a peek over in her direction, her lips quirking up in a half-smile when he noticed she was awake.

“What are you doing awake?” she asked as quietly as she could.

Joe’s lips curved into a slow, lazy grin, with a bashful undertone. “Couldn’t sleep,” he practically mouthed, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes. “You just want to make this night more interesting.”

Joe shifted quietly on the floor, his movements careful and deliberate. He glanced around the room, ensuring everyone else was still sound asleep, then slowly moved to sit up. Y/N’s heart raced as she watched him, every nerve in her body on high alert.

Sliding onto the bed beside her, he moved with a careful grace that belied his size. The mattress dipped under his weight, and he settled beside her, his body warm and solid against hers.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a giddy giggle that threatened to escape. “We’re gonna get caught one of these days, you know.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But that’s what makes it fun, right?”

“Oh yeah, tons of fun,” she replied sarcastically. “Nothing like the thrill of getting caught by our friends to spice things up.”

Even the darkness couldn’t prevent her from seeing his pearly white grin. “Admit it, you love the risk.”

“Maybe I do,” she admitted with a gentle sigh, relaxing into his warmth as his hand slid up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

They laid there for a moment in the snore-filled room. The tension was palpable, a taut wire strung between them that could snap at any moment.

“So, what’s the plan?” she whispered up at him.

“Plan?” he echoed, feigning innocence. “I was just thinkin’ we could enjoy each other’s company.”

She rolled her eyes, positive that her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and despite the darkness, covered her face with her hand anyways. “You’re terrible.”

“And…? You love it, babygirl,” he shot back, his hand moving down to rest on her hip, fingertips teasing the space between her tank top and her shorts. “Remember that time we almost got caught in the locker room?” he asked with an audible smirk, his calloused thumb tracing circles on her exposed skin. “You nearly blew our cover with that yelp.”

“You’re the one who made me jump!” she protested, swatting him lightly on the arm.

He laughed softly, a rich hum that sent sparks straight to her core. “Sure, blame it on me.”

“You really don’t think anyone suspects anything?” Her question came as a small mumble, lost in the shadow of his form practically hovering over her at this point. And he was so close to her. She could feel light tickles from his beard on her cheek.

“Nah, baby,” he confidently reassured her. “We’re too good at this shit.”

“Famous last words,” she chuckled, though she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing delicately against the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

“Yeah?” she challenged, sliding her hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Prove it.”

With a smirk, Joe shifted, rolling over so he could press his body entirely on top of hers. The bed creaked slightly, and they both froze, glancing around to make sure no one had woken up. Satisfied that their secret was still safe, they relaxed.

“What was that about ‘I got this’?” she lightly scolded, emulating his voice the best she could in her whispered tone.

“Shh…” With that, he pressed his lips down against hers, the hand that rested on her hip coming up to hold the side of her neck. He kissed her with a hunger that spoke of all the nights they had to keep their distance, the desire that had been simmering just below the surface finally boiling over. She returned it with equal fervour, trailing her fingers up to his man bun and feeling where the couple of hours being laid down had taken a toll on its usually pristine quality.

“Take this out,” she mumbled against his lips. “I like when your hair’s down.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. It was a relief to take it out, to let it fall down and create a protective shield around their faces as he went back in for another kiss. It deepened, tips of tongues prodding against each other until they were fully entwined in an intense dance. Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath his skin, the same way Joe traced the contours of her curves with a reverence that made her feel like a Goddess.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he breathed out in a gravelly whisper.

“Me too,” she admitted.

They were lost in each other, the world outside their bubble of desire forgotten. Joe’s hands slipped under her shirt, the heat of his touch against her bare skin making her gasp softly. He paused, his eyes searching hers in the small beams of light from outside, asking for silent permission.

She nodded, her breath hitching as his hands continued their exploration upwards. He pushed the fabric up, exposing her round breasts to the cool air and his heated gaze. Following the path of his hands, Joe’s lips made a tender journey down her neck, nipping and sucking lightly, before they stopped at her chest. Pressing kisses to her skin. Tip of his tongue tracing slow patterns along it until one of her hard nubs made contact. Thick lips wrapped around, kissing and suckling like he’d never get to again. Branding possession and desire.

“Joe,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

“Shh, we gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he reminded her, words muffled against the supple skin as he moved to pay the same exquisite attention to her other breast. “Don’t wanna wake the others.”

The reminder of their precarious situation only added to the intensity, causing her to unintentionally roll her hips up towards his. His hands were everywhere, mapping her body with a familiarity that was both comforting and thrilling. Her own hands were just as eager, exploring the hard planes of his chest. His heart pounding beneath her palm, a mirror to her own racing pulse.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

She smiled, a flush of pleasure spreading through her at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself, big guy.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her. “Glad you think so.”

Coming back up to her lips, she barely had time to readjust before his long, tepid fingers slipped under the fabric of her shorts and her panties. Another sharp gasp escaped her lips, internally cringing at how loud it was. God forbid, if anyone actually knew what they were doing…

“Easy, baby. Just let me take care of you.”

The pads of his fingers stroked over her slick folds, gently… teasingly. A moan rose in her throat, causing her to clamp her teeth down on Joe’s lower lip to suppress the sound.

“Damn, baby, you’re this wet already?”

“Yes,” she managed to breathe as he pressed heated kisses down the side of her neck. His middle fingers teased the smooth surface of her tiny, sensitive pearl, and she once again was forced to keep her noises to a minimum.

“Good girl,” he praised her efforts, rewarding her by pressing his fingers down firmer, further, until they slipped inside her with a smooth, practised motion.

The sensation was almost too much to bear. She clung to him, her nails digging into his bare shoulders as he began to move, digits sliding in and out in a slow and calculated motion. God only knew he wanted to finger fuck the shit out of her, but he knew that would cause unnecessary noise and a climax too short lived.

“God, how you always feel this good?” he groaned softly.

She whimpered, biting her lip to stifle it. His fingers curled upwards in their movements, pressing closer to her sweet spot. Driving her wild. Coiling her pleasure. Tighter. And tighter.

“Look at you,” he peered over her writhing form in awe. “So gorgeous… so ready for me, huh?”

Her response was a tight grip on the back of his head.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered hotly against her neck. “Tell me how you want it.”

“M-more…” She pathetically sighed. “Please, Joe…”

He chuckled softly, feeling a familiar twitch between his own legs. “Anything for you, doll,” he obliged happily, fingers picking up speed and his thumb finding her clit easily to glide against it in tandem with the rhythm he had curated on her body.

A gasp, an arch, a flutter around his fingers, and he knew. “Feel that?” he whispered in a seductive, dark purr. “Feel how close you are?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Oh, God, yes…”

“Atta girl,” he cooed down at her, propping himself up on his arm and pressing his forehead down on hers. “Cum, baby.”

Noticing her characteristic shudder, the way her eyebrows furrowed when a release was approaching, he took the initiative to manoeuvre his free hand to cover her mouth, baring down enough pressure for her to bite onto it as she rippled and arched into him. Her cunt throbbed and tightened around his fingers, and he watched with parted lips as she came so hard.

“That’s it,” he murmured in a soothing rumble. “Just like that…”

As she came down from her high, twitches and aftershock present, he carefully withdrew his fingers. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his hand smoothing over her hair. Another kiss came quickly, but not without Joe taking an expert taste of his own fingers, where Y/N’s honey coated him with a thick sheen. She tasted herself as he swirled his long tongue around hers, hand stroking back his hair to thread her fingers through the dark tendrils.

It was almost sad, kissing him in that moment. The way she gripped onto him as though she was solidifying how he felt in her mind, capturing the memory; they never knew the next time they’d get to be together.

“Joe…” Y/N whispered. “I need you… so bad.”

“I know, babygirl,” he sighed, peppering small kisses along her jaw. “But as much as I’d love for you to nut on this dick right now, it might be wiser to wait ‘til I can have you alone.”

She whimpered impatiently, making Joe stifle a laugh by burying his face in her neck. “Don’t make me laugh,” he murmured, clearly grinning.

“I’m not trying to…” she giggled softly, biting her lip. They really just did that, in the same room as their sleeping friends. Damn. “Fuck, Joe, we’re totally gonna get found out soon if we keep this up.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lifting his head to gaze down at her. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, baby.”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone would love to know that you just fingered me a metre away from their sleeping bodies.”

“They will know if you don’t keep it down,” he chuckled. “That bein’ said, we should probably try and get some sleep, huh?”

Y/N frowned, but reluctantly nodded, knowing he would have to leave her bed and return to his spot on the floor. “Where are we heading in the morning?”

“Uh,” Joe hummed, carefully pulling himself back up into a seated position. “Atlanta, I think.”

“Sit next to me on the bus?” she half-asked.

“You sure you wanna do that? Y’know… considering we’re ‘totally gonna get found out soon’?” He sent her a cocky smirk, silently moving himself back to the floor. She rolled over to the edge of the bed so she could still see him. 

“I don’t care… I’ve missed you,” she told him earnestly. It was true; they really hadn’t seen as much of each other lately, which is ironic when you consider the fact they were currently on the road. It just meant eyes were on them more than usual. 

With an understanding exhale, Joe reached over and held the side of her face, stroking over her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve missed you too, baby.”

“So sit with me tomorrow, please,” she practically begged, leaning into his touch.

“I’m not sayin’ no, am I?” he answered with a soft laugh. “Now, go to sleep, ‘kay? It’ll be more suspicious if we’re both tired.”

“Yes, Dad,” Y/N playfully retorted, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll remind you you called me that, as well.”

“I’m sure you fucking will, Big Dog.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Morning crept into the room with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the thin curtains. The peaceful quiet of the night gave way to the gentle sounds of stirring bodies and muffled groans of discomfort.

“Ugh, my back,” Jon complained, rolling over on the cramped armchair. “Why did I think sleeping on here was a good idea?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Colby mumbled, pulling Becky closer to him. “Pass me that pillow, will ya?” Becky groaned, grabbing the pillow that had fallen off Gi’s bed in the middle of the night, and flinging it back in Colby’s direction.

Gi, still half-asleep, rolled over and bumped into Mercedes, who let out a sleepy groan. “Move over, you bed hog,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow she hugged tightly.

“When did you get there?” Gi mumbled, squinting her eyes as she searched for her glasses somewhere in the bed, realising she must have passed out with them on. 

“When I decided the corner was too damn uncomfortable,” Mercedes bluntly responded.

Y/N slowly opened her eyes, the events of the night playing on a loop in her mind, extended into a pleasurable dream. She sat up, eyes adjusting to the daylight as she surveyed the room. No Joe, just a messy blanket and his balled up jacket from where he had slept. 

“Ahh!” Mercedes let out a yelp as the hotel door began to open, almost hitting her in the process. “Oh, it’s you—what the fuck, man?”

“Sorry, didn’t realise your stupid ass was standin’ in the way,'' Joe's sleepy, but cheery laugh echoed as he emerged, shutting the door behind him. He’d changed his clothes, now wearing his grey shorts and a hoodie, and his hair was back to its pristine nature, perfectly slicked back into a bun.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Colby strained his neck from the floor to look up at him.

“My room? We have rooms, guys, did you know that?” he nudged Colby with his knee as he attempted to sit up. His next stop was Y/N’s bed, where he placed her keycard down on the table beside it, giving her a small smile. 

“You took my key?”

“I’ve been awake for, like, two hours. Needed to get out for a bit, take a shower, y’know,” he shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed to collect his stuff from the floor. He made a point to brush against Y/N’s arm as he did, making her bite back a smile. “You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a nod. “You?”

“Better than expected,” he said, sending a smirk over his shoulder.

Across the room, Colby struggled to stand, stretching his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn. “Alright, who’s up for breakfast?”

“Count me in,” Jon said, finally rolling off the armchair and onto the floor with a thud. “As long as it’s not cornflakes.”

Gi sat up, her hair a wild halo around her head. “Can we get coffee first? I need coffee.”

“Coffee sounds so good right now,” Mercedes agreed, brushing her fingers through her hair and rubbing at her neck. “And a chiropractor.”

By the time breakfast was had and everyone had dispersed back to their own rooms, Gi and Y/N started the gruelling task of packing what little they took out of their bags and tidying the room of empty cans and pizza boxes.

“They could have helped us,” Gi sighed as she tried to clumsily shove a pizza box into a trash bag.

“Joe offered,” Y/N shrugged, working on picking up cans and any other scraps of trash. Gi glanced up at her, narrowing her eyes with a cheeky smile.

“Did he?”

Y/N met her gaze, raising an eyebrow at her friend quizzically. “Yeah, he did. But he still had a fuckload left to pack, so I told him we could handle it.”

“Oh,” Gi simply hummed, a grin spreading across her face, unbeknownst to Y/N.

Y/N tried her utmost hardest to avoid eye contact after that, knowing that if she looked at Gi for too long, it would be impossible not to spill everything that happened. And after complaining to Joe herself about the possibility of anyone finding out about them, it would seem somewhat counterproductive and ironic on her end.

When the pair was ready to leave, their WhatsApp group chat dinging with confirmations of the same, Gi leaned over to Y/N as she opened their door.

“Oh, by the way, Y/N, about last night,” Gi started.

“Yeah?” Y/N answered as she shut the door behind them, the two of them now standing in the hallway. She caught glimpses of fresh-faced superstars that weren’t in their room last night, who took more pride in their night routines on the road than anything else, greeting them from afar with a warm smile.

“The next time you and Joe fool about, make sure we’re all actually asleep before you do.”

[damiansgoodgirll]

 hi, can you please make a story where reader is young like 19 or 20 and everyone loves her and she’s a pretty close friend with basically everyone in the wwe and one day she has a match with like Nia or someone else and she gets injured so bad that everyone around her is worried sick.? maybe she has a closer feeling with the judgement day or Jey but like if you can mention more wrestlers it would be amazing. Thank you so much. I love your writing 

i love this type of requests cause it makes me travel back in time when i was 13 and i used to play wrestling with my best friend (don’t do this at home) and i remember everyone loving me…anyway

sorry for making nia the bad one!

the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic)

home is where you belong

you never thought you would find it but you did. the place where you felt safe and loved, the place that you called home.

you’ve been wrestling since you were fifteen and once you got eighteen wwe signed you in. two years later now you were living your dream;

travelling from city to city, having sleepovers with your wrestling friends, gossiping about what people you shipped together, talking nonsense with seth rollins and having becky teasing him, watching and learning new techniques from jey uso, training with the judgment day.

everything was a dream for you.

the fans loved you. even if they weren’t fans about your character, they still liked your persona and your positive energy. you had no enemies, you pretended of course, but you had no enemies at all.

many elders took you under their protective wing and you couldn’t be more grateful.

you we are currently training with rhea as you had a big match against nia and you wanted to be ready. you both already knew that the judgement they were gonna help you win this match because, according to the script they had to ruin this moment for you and for nia, but you didn’t care because you knew how fun it was going to be.

so you were ready to kick her ass.

nia, otherwise, wasn’t as happy as you thought. the idea of losing against some teenager like you made her blood boil. she was more experienced than you so why would you had to win? plus, by getting helped by the judgment day?

she didn’t like the idea but she didn’t tell you.

she had something else in mind.

so you were getting ready, your make up flawless, your hair perfectly posing over your shoulders and a smile that could make happy anyone who met you.

you were so ready.

you heard the “boos” when nia entered the ring and you heard everyone cheering for you when you entered. that’s how it was supposed to be so why did she have an envious look in her eyes?

you pretended it was nothing and you started the match as it was supposed to go.

ten minutes later, the judgment day music echoing through the arena, just like the script said.

rhea distracting nia.

following exactly what the script said.

so what did go wrong?

nia attacked rhea. it wasn’t in the script but rhea knew how to handle situations like that.

you could tell by damian’s look that this wasn’t supposed to happen but you took it as an opportunity to distract nia and make your final move, move that made you win that match.

earlier on the schedule but still, you had your win.

“someone beat your ass…” rhea screamed into the microphone, unleashing mixed reactions through the crowd. everyone cheering for you because of your win, not everyone was happy with the way you won but still, you better than nia.

that set her off.

she didn’t like the idea of a teenager beating her but she hated even more the way the crowd laughed at her face, making her seem weak, not strong enough.

the judgment day were leaving the arena, just like the script told them to do after your victory, so what didn’t go as planned?

you were still in the ring, fans clapping for you, the referee still held your hand high and as you were about the leave, nia hit you behind your back.

this wasn’t prepared.

you fell to your knees and before you could do something she dragged you through your hair into the middle of the ring.

“nia?” you said almost too terrified.

the referee tried to get into the two of you but nia pushed her away, hurting her.

“who do you think you are?” she said hoovering you with her body.

“nia what?” you weren’t understanding. why was she doing that? she was your friend, she wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“don’t act so dumb…” she whispered before attacking you.

for real this time.

nothing prepared.

she was really hurting you. your face first, then your stomach, she kept hurting you, punching you over and over until you couldn’t feel your body anymore.

your head and nose were bleeding.

referees weren’t able to stop her either.

rhea and damian were the first one to intervene when they saw that the referee couldn’t stop her.

rhea attacking her, the referees, trying to get between the two of them, so damian so that as an opportunity to shield you with his body. he could handle nia attacking him.

“damian?” you almost cried.

“hey…shh it’s okay, i got you” he said, slowly moving your hair out of your face and it was in that moment that he saw your bleeding face.

“dam…it hurts” you said clenching your stomach. he felt his heart breaking. the way you were clenching your chest, the way your hands trembled a little, your bleeding face and your eyes full of tears.

he was mad. furious.

“i know…ssshhh…we will take care of you i promise” he whispered.

the crowd was cheering, assuming everything was scripted, but there was an uncomfortable silence going behind the scenes.

everyone watching what was happening in horror.

becky had tears in her eyes and seth was trying to keep her and himself calm because he was mad. cody was speechless. jey ran out of his locker room just to be stopped by the security. dom and finn paralysed in their steps as they were watching everything happening right before their eyes.

that’s what it went wrong.

thankfully, rhea and referees were able to drag nia away from the ring. she knew she went too far but her pride was something she wasn’t willing to give up.

damian was still in the ring with you as medical staff came and assisted you.

you already fell unconscious when damian lifted you up in his arms and dragged you down onto the stretcher waiting for you backstage.

you were rushed to the hospital and honestly no one felt like continuing the show but they had to. jey was next but all he wanted to do was rush to the hospital and stay by your side.

you didn’t even realised that when you woke up you weren’t in some hotel room but you were in a hospital bed. your head still pounding when you remembered what happened.

the doctor told you that you had a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder,a broken wrist, a sprained ankle and a heavy concussion. not to count all the bruising and red spots forming all over your body.

then what you didn’t want to hear : no wrestling for at least four months.

your body needed to rest and heal first.

you were trying to hold in all the tears but eventually let them out when the doctor left your room. you were supposed to have your first main event at wrestlemania and now that dream was gone.

while still crying a soft knock echoed through the room.

damian first, then rhea with the rest of the judgment day.

“hey…” she whispered but her heart broke when she saw the tears in your eyes “why are you crying pretty girl?” she asked sitting on the chair next to your bed, followed by the boys who sat on the small couch right beside the window.

“bye bye wrestlemania…” you said with a broken voice.

everyone knew how much you’ve been waiting and wanting that moment.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” she said softly.

“its just it’s not fair…” you whispered “why did she do that? i thought she was my friend…i would have never done that to her rhea…never”

“i know love…because you know your value, you’re kind and sweet and loving and unfortunately you’ve met someone who thought about her ego and her ego only…” she said smiling sadly at you.

“what matters now is that you rest and take your time to heal” damian joined the conversation “you scared everyone back there…” he said making you smile a little.

“i didn’t mean to…”

“we know…or you could tell them that yourself” finn joked.

“what?” you whispered.

“everyone’s here…jey almost punched the doctor when they wouldn’t let him see you” dom laughed “becky is here with seth, cody and shayna are here too…girl you even scared gunther”

“i don’t believe it…” you laughed.

“we can make you believe that” jey said entering the room with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. everyone followed him too.

you were relieved in seeing so many people caring for you in a way not even your friends cared about. you felt loved and appreciated.

you’ve spent the next hour talking nonsense with them all and you almost forgot about the wrestling problem thing.

almost.

when everyone left for your check up with the doctor, the only one who stayed was jey.

he was the only one who noticed the shift in your mood and he knew what was like staying away from what you love do the most, so if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was willing to do that, if you needed a friendly advice, he was willing to do that too.

“care to tell me what’s on your mind sweetheart?” he asked when the doctor left.

“i’m going to miss all of these…four months of not seeing you all days, no wrestling, no wrestlemania and probably no summerslam too…it’s just, i feel useless and empty not doing what i love jey” you confessed.

“you’re not useless at all, and it’s normal to feel nostalgic right now but it’ll pass and i promise you that you’ll be on your feet for when summerslam comes! i promise you” he said sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder - the healthy one - “i wish i could have done something to stop her but i was the useless one…i hated seeing you in so much pain…she lost her mind and finally she lost her job too”

“what?” you whispered.

“yup! got fired…you know you could sue her right?” jey asked.

“i would never do that…”

“i know…you’re too kind for that…what she did was wrong and completely unacceptable but i’m glad you’re here…” he said softly kissing your head.

“ill be here for a long long time…this is my home after all” you smiled, making jey laugh too.

and it was in that moment that you truly realised how important those weird people were for you, and how important you were for them.

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU - S.R.

(THE MASTERLIST)

pairing: seth rollins x fem!writer+producer setting: 2017 wwe roster in the paul levesque era warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, mild violence (in ring wrestling), mentions of blood, eventual smut synopsis: Being the heiress to a worldwide wrestling company wasn’t ever something you thought you’d take an interest in. But after your father took reins of the company, you decided to give it a shot—being promised the opportunity to work on bigger than life storylines while also getting to pave your own path in your family’s legacy on screen. Amidst the chaos, you had no intentions of being swept off your feet, but that quickly takes a turn when you catch eyes with a certain architect whose magnetic field draws you in too strong. With the weight of your family’s legacy on your shoulders and the scrutiny of judgemental creeps watching your every move, you and Seth share secret moments in crowded rooms alike. The stage is set, the stakes are high and the spotlight never fades, but he’s the one thing you don’t want to have to keep in the shadows forever.

chapter i: you brush past me in the hallway

chapter ii: watching you for ages

chapter iii: trying not to feel it

chapter iv: what would you do?

upcoming chapters tba

a/n: hi everyone, it's kay! im so excited for this series and i have been thinking it up/working on it for a while now and it's safe to say it's been living in my head rent free lol. i really hope you guys like it and please leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

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.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.

[sydsaint]

The only relevant member of The Bloodline. Change my mind. <3

Summary: After getting stuck with Solo in a small mix-match challenge tournament on Raw and Smackdown, the reader realizes that she's developed feelings for him. The only problem? Reader is Cody's younger sister, and Cody is hell-bent on finishing his story.

It's the finals of the Raw vs Smackdown mix-match challenge. Two months ago, you got paired up with Solo Sikoa for one of the Smackdown pairings. Together the two of you have managed to run through the entire Smackdown side of the bracket. Now it all comes down to this. You and Solo vs Raw's bracket winners, Becky Lynch and Seth Rollins.

"You ready for this, Solo?" You ask Sikoa while the two of you are backstage waiting for your cue.

"We've already beaten everyone else, right?" Solo nods. "How hard can one more win be?"

You smile at his confidence and finish your stretching while you still can. Two months ago you would have laughed in the face of anyone that told you that you'd be friends and partners with anyone in the Bloodline. But here you are.

You and Solo started off a bit rocky. The man's cousin having a vendetta against your brother wasn't exactly the best basis for a new partnership. But the two of you managed to put your differences aside and work together to defeat the Smackdown bracket.

"Right. One more win." You repeat Solo's earlier statement, your gaze fixed on the monitor displaying the ring. "How hard can it be, right?" You assure yourself.

One of the backstage crew signals that it's time for your match so you pull the custom team shirt that the company made for yourself and Solo over your head. Solo's music hits first and he rolls his shoulders to loosen up before stepping through the curtain. Your music plays a few seconds later and you follow him out to the ramp.

You do a quick and clean handstand flip out on the ramp and come to a stop right at Solo's side. The two of you share a look and head down to the ring where Becky and Seth are already waiting.

"You want to start?" You ask Solo as the two of you take your place in your corner. "I can keep an eye on Becky if you want to try and wear down Rollins." You suggest.

"Yeah, alright." Solo nods and climbs up onto the apron. He offers you his hand and hauls you up as well.

You grab ahold of the tag rope and the bell rings. Solo and Seth lurch at one-another while you and Becky mean-mug one another from opposite sides of the ring. You watch the men duke it out and trade blows for a while before Seth retreats and tags in his wife.

Solo begrudgingly walks over to your corner and tags you in per the rules of mixed tag matches. "Go kick her ass, Goldie." Solo's hand collides with yours and you crack a small smile at his use of your nickname.

You step into the ring and Becky is on you in an instant. The two of you trade some heavy shots before you head to the ropes to gain some leverage. Your move set is more high-caliber, flyer moves, so it can take some time to set things up.

You bounce off the ring ropes and hit Becky for a clothesline that knocks her to the mat. You then switch to the other side of the ring and jump to use the ropes for a moonsalt. You manage to hit Becky head-on and go for a pin.

"Damnit!" You curse the air when Becky kicks out of your pin at a two-count.

Becky scrambles to her feet and kicks you in the sternum as she gets up. The blow propels you back a couple of feet and knocks the wind out of you. Out of breath, you scoot back and tag Solo back into the match before rolling to the floor to recoup.

Solo and Seth go back to hitting one another with slugging moves while you and Becky are both on the floor in your respective corners. You manage to get your breath and stamina back and climb back onto the ring apron. Solo and Seth are still busy duking it out so you decide to try and run some interference.

"Becky!" You climb back down to the floor and come around to Becky's corner.

Becky whips her head around toward you and the two of you rush each other. You hop onto the steel steps as you come around the corner and propel yourself toward Becky. You raise your arm and hit Becky with a flying forearm that grounds you both.

Now on the floor, you and Becky go buck-wild and start trading some nasty blows. You get a few hits in before Becky manages to get you hard in the nose with a graze of her elbow. You hear a crunch noise as she hits you and feel liquid start gushing from your nostrils soon after.

"Shit!" You gasp and reach for your face as Becky rolls off of you.

You sit up and touch your nose, instantly feeling warm liquid cover your fingertips. You pull your hand back and sure enough, blood is thickly smeared all over your fingers.

One of the officials sitting in the time-keepers area rushes to your side when he spots the blood and Becky backs off of you.

"Are you alright?" The referee kneels down at your side.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." You assure him and get to your feet.

You wipe the blood oozing from your nose with your forearm and shake your head to readjust yourself. "Can you continue?" The official asks you and you nod.

The commotion outside the ring catches Solo's attention and he moves over to the side of the ring to get a look at what's going down. "YN?" He calls out to you with concern when he spots the blood smeared all over your face.

Distracted by you on the floor, Solo doesn't have time to react to Seth's next attack. Seth kicks Solo's knee in and hits a stomp before rolls Solo up for the pin. You jump forward and try to break the pin in the ring, but Becky grabs your arm and stops you.

The bell rings signaling that the match is over and it dawns on you that you and Solo have lost the match.

"Shit. Are you kidding me?!" You turn and shove Becky off of you.

Becky laughs, uttering a quick, "Better luck next time, lass." As she climbs into the ring.

Solo rolls out of the ring and you come around to meet him. "Crap. I'm sorry, Solo." You apologize. "I should have been quicker getting into the ring to stop the pin." You huff in frustration.

"Is your nose alright?" Is the first question out of Solo's mouth as you come up on him.

"Yeah, yeah." You nod. "Becky got me with a pretty gnarly elbow." You explain. "It's not bleeding anymore, is it?" You go to touch your nose again.

Solo steps toward you and sets a hand on your cheek to tilt your head upwards. "No, it's stopped now." He pulls his hand back after a moment. "Feeling lightheaded at all?"

"Now that you mention it." You joke and rub the back of your head. "I'm kidding! Just kidding!" You laugh when Solo's face flashes with concern.

The two of you head backstage while Seth and Becky are presented with their shiny new trophy. You both trudge to the backstage waiting area where a couple of the medical staff are waiting to look at you. They usher you into the trainers room to look you over and Solo follows.

After you've been looked at and cleared of any serious injuries you and Solo take a moment to catch your breath and reflect.

"Well, this was one hell of a run!" You muse to yourself with a small smile.

"Yeah, it was." Solo agrees with a hint of a smile. "So, I guess this is it, then?" He turns and holds his hand out for a handshake.

You glance down at Solo's hand, an odd bittersweet feeling washing over you. "I guess so." You nod and shake his hand.

An awkward tension fills the air and your gaze meet's Solo's, your hands still clasped together. Then, the door to the trainers room bursts open, your brother coming through it like a man on a mission.

"YN!?" Cody frantically scans the room before landing on you and Solo. "Your nose! Are you alright?" He rushes to your side.

You pull your hand back from Solo's quickly as Cody rushes to you. He clasps his hands on your shoulders and starts inspecting you feverously.

"I'm okay, Cody." You assure your brother. "Really. So you can back up a little, please." You push his chest and get him to back up a bit.

"Right." Cody nods and takes a step back. "It's really him I should be talking to." He turns to Solo with a sour expression. "Some partner you are, Sikoa! Letting my sister get her face busted up like that."

You scoff and grab your brother by the shoulder. "Knock it off, Cody!" You scold him. "It wasn't Solo's fault and you know it!"

"Whatever." Cody sneers. "This was the finals. Which means you and my sister are done, Sikoa. Got it? She doesn't have to tolerate you anymore." He shoots Solo an accusatory glance.

"Alright!" You grab your brothers shirt and yank him back toward you. "That's enough! Out! I'll be there in a minute!" You shove him toward the door.

Cody mumbles to himself but steps out into the hall. You wait until he shuts the door before turning back to Solo. "Sorry about him. He can be...well, a lot." You sigh.

"It's alright." Solo chuckles.

"Hey!" You perk up at the unfamiliar sound. "I knew it! I told you when we started this tournament that I'd get you to laugh at least once!" You remind him with a wide grin.

Solo holds back another chuckle and nods. "You got me." He admits defeat. "Congratulations, YN."

"You take care of yourself, mister broody enforcer." You reply and step forward with your arms out for a hug.

"Yeah, you too." Solo agrees and surprisingly lets you hug him. "Take care, Goldie. I'll be seeing you around on Smackdown." He adds.

Your hug is one of lose lingering ones you see in movies all the time. But it does eventually come to an end. You give Solo once last soft smile before exiting the room to meet up with your drama-queen of a brother.

Solo watches you disappear behind the door with a bitter-sweet smile on his face. It's over. Now you go back to the natural order of things. A Rhodes and a Bloodline member. Natural-born enemies.

That's how it has to be.

That's all it will ever be.

Right?

[teamchasezwrites]

Second Chance (2/3)

Word Count: 7,931

Characters: Damian Priest/Unnamed OC, (minor appearances from Rhea Ripley, Finn Balor, Dominik Mysterio, Seth Rollins, CM Punk, and Triple H)

Genre: Romance

Tags: Stars Align, Man Realizing He’s An Idiot, Regrets

Summary: some people are worth a second chance. (A Wrestlemania XL Night Two fic)

Part I here

Author’s Note: This is the night told from Damian’s POV. I did watch the BTS video from Gorilla, so any errors are my own.

A heavy case of nerves flowed through Damian’s system as the start of Wrestlemania XL grew closer. The vibe of the crowd already in their seats made its way into Gorilla where plenty of backstage talent and crew members were gathered.

Seth Rollins was there exchanging pre match whispers with his wife, Becky Lynch. The former already dressed in his over-the-top mummer-inspired outfit. It was outlandish but it fit the wrestler to a T.

His opponent, Drew McIntyre was there as well. Their match kicked off night two. Seth’s World Heavyweight Championship title up for grabs.

The purple Money In The Bank briefcase felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his grasp. Aside from that World Heavyweight Title, the briefcase – securing him an opportunity at a title shot – was the most important object in the room.

He just needed the opportunity to cash in his title shot. Last night during Night One, an opportunity never arose. Roman Reigns never gave him an opening during his tag team match. Plus, he had The Rock next to him. He didn’t want to take the risk of anything going wrong.

Everything had to be perfect.

The venue – Lincoln Financial Field in Philadelphia – was perfect. The city was nearly next door to the city where he got his start in wrestling. A jump across the Walt Whitman Bridge and a quick ride down 42 and he’d be in Atlantic City.

When he arrived at the stadium earlier in the day, he took a moment to walk out on the ramp and stare. Very few other people moved around save for a few crew members double checking wires and camera views. A handful of stadium workers walking through the seats double checking. The feeling of being alone in such a vast space was nearly overwhelming. He felt incredibly small in the grand structure.

Closing his eyes Damian imagined the stadium packed from the field to the very last row at the top of the stadium. The noise of the crowd could almost vibrate the ground beneath his feet. He’d been in that stadium once before with it rocking enough to feel the earth move.

When he’d opened his eyes it wasn’t the ring in the middle of the field he saw but the unblemished green grass with the Eagles logo on the 50 yard line. Unable to stop, his eyes centered himself in the stadium, gathering his bearings and navigated to the section of seats to his right and up to the top where once upon he was there in section 244 seat 26.

Even now, nine years later he could feel those cold temps of the late Sunday night in December. He could hear the cheers of the crowd and the slamming of shoulder pads together. See the white smoke from fireworks popping off from the wing-like canopies at the top of the stadium covering his seat after yet another Philadelphia touchdown. Could feel the soft lips against his in a celebratory kiss. There had been plenty of those that night.

“Yo. Priest you okay?”

Damian shook away the sparkling blue eyes chanting out the spelling of Eagles pumping an arm in the air with each letter to see his teammate and best friend, Rhea Ripley in front of him.

“Nerves man,” Damian stated in a half truth. It was better than explaining how his thoughts got away from him on the absolute most important day of his wrestling career.

“You got this,” Rhea told him firmly, slapping her hands on his shoulders.

“I really can’t believe this is happening….” Inside he was vibrating and it took everything he had to appear calm on the outside.

“You deserve this.”

He pulled her into a hug by a hand on the back of her head. She became his person from nearly the moment they met in NXT. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. They were the best of friends.

The show kicked off with Stephanie McMahon and then Drew McIntyre’s music played over the stadium’s system. As Seth made his way to the ring, he pulled the black hoodie he wore over his ring gear over his head. There were plenty of monitors in Gorilla to watch the match, but he couldn’t bring himself to look.

His friends – The Judgement Day faction made up of Rhea, Finn Balor, Dominic Mysterio, and JD McDonagh – were there with him in support. His friends allowed him the opportunity to talk if he needed. They also allowed him to sit in silence. He also had his brothers and father. Even with all the back up, it did little to settle the nerves. He stretched. He meditated bent over at the waist with his hands in his knees and eyes staring at the briefcase on the floor between his legs.

So many changes occurred in the months and days leading up to Wrestlemania, he wasn’t sure another change wasn’t coming. He didn’t know the proper word that would describe the devastation if Creative pulled an audible. This was his moment.

The perfect time.

Sometime later he was standing in the middle of Gorilla with his arms spread out while a crew member worked baby oil over his arms and shoulders. The oil served a couple of purposes. It made it harder for opponents to grip. It also allowed some moves to go off better with the extra fluidity the oil provided. Mainly, it was an aesthetic for visual appearance allowing muscles to pop and appear more defined under the lights.

Then it was time. The crowd roared as Drew’s music hit declaring him the winner and Seth was ducking through the curtain.

Damian turned his head to met Seth coming back at the same time the wrestler was slapping his chest. He reached out with one armed and hugged the worn out wrestler.

“I told you it was all gonna be worth it, baby,” Seth breathed heavily. His body worn out and tingling with pain mostly centered on his knee. He knew there was another surgery in his future but his night wasn’t over yet. “The biggest moment of your life,” he told Damian, slapping his hands on his upper arms. “I am so happy for you,” he gripped Damian’s chin with a hand giving it a small shake. “Enjoy.”

Damian nodded at him as the small smattering of people clapped for the veteran wrestler. He may be older than Seth, but Seth had years in the business on him. Years of being a big name, the top draw. He had mad respect for him.

He blew out a breath and danced on his feet. The briefcase in his right hand. Hands poised in either side of the curtain. A ref – his friend, Eddie – hovering behind him, ready to make that run to the ring with him.

Then it was time.

His music hit and everything else fell away. He was in the zone.

He sprinted down the ramp with the briefcase in hand. The crowd a complete blur. They could be screaming their heads off or sitting in the seats quiet like they were in church. He didn’t know. He circled the ring and lifted the briefcase, ramming it into Drew’s head, knocking the new champion off his feet. The briefcase flew from his hands on impact nearly flying into the stands.

Grabbing it quickly, he shoved the briefcase into Eddie’s hands. “I’m cashing in!” He yelled. “Right now!” He gave a little shove as he let go of the briefcase, barely waiting for Eddie to make his way to the timekeeper’s box before turning his attention back to Drew. Drew still laid on the ground. In the corner of his eye, he saw CM Punk standing on the announce table, a smirk on his face watching the events take place.

He could hear the announcer Michael Cole’s “Priest is cashing right now!” from the announce table.

Picking up Drew from ringside, he tossed him into the ring before climbing in after. He rolled in after the man as Eddie called for the bell.

The bell rang and he wrapped his fingers around Drew’s neck in a choke hold. He placed his other hand on Drew’s lower back and lifted the man high in the air, slamming him down into the mat. Drew bounced in the mat and Damian quickly fell over the man. He wrapped an arm under his leg and rolled his body back. He was laying on Drew’s shoulders, adding his entire weight on the man.

One.

Two.

Three.

Eddie’s hand slapped the mat in quick succession. It could have been hours. Or minutes. That final slap happened and Damian’s ears popped and cleared. The stadium went crazy. He popped off Drew on his knees and threw his arms back in a roar of victory.

His music started playing and he jumped up pumping his arms together before he flexed his arms out to either side, tossing them back as he released another roar. As he lifted his head back up, the dreads slapped him in the face.

“And here is your winner…”

He stalked the ring in a half circle before Eddie was there to present him the title – his title. Damian nearly snatched it out of his hands.

“And NEEEEEEW world heavyweight champion…”

He raised his hands high above his head in victory. The title clutched tightly in the grip of his right hand. Eddie’s hard grip on his wrist holding it up.

“Daamienn Preeeist!"

He released another guttural roar as the fans went wild all around him. Once again he could feel the vibrations beneath his feet as the crowd gave him the loudest reaction of his career.

He climbed through the ropes and jumped down to the ground. His eyes followed the ramp up to the top where he saw Rhea, Finn, Dom, and JD gathered waiting for him. He couldn’t wait to celebrate with them.

Emotions started to swirl in him as he stalked up the ramp toward his friends. After all the years he spent fighting and trying to make it in this business. The sacrifices he made. The people he lost along the way…

“Damian I love you!”

It’s a scream he’s heard a thousand times. Damian wasn’t sure what made him look to his right. He planned on smiling at the woman, maybe sending her a wink and keep moving up the ramp. That all fell away when his eyes met the woman. Shock took over elation and his steps faltered.

She smiled at him and he was taken back to that night in 2013 high above the field when she jumped into his arms jostling the people in the row in front of them who were too excited (and maybe too drunk) to care.

Damian knew he needed to make his way up the ramp and into the Gorilla so the show could go on, but he moved in her direction without thought. The pull was too much. It’s been too long.

He stood in front of her, breathing heavily from everything that’s happened in the last five minutes.

Was it even five minutes from the time he tore through the curtain and now? He didn’t know.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. People all around her vied for his attention. He felt their touches on his arms and the tickling touches on his sides from people just close enough to make contact. The noise of the crowd faded around him. It felt like he was underwater with the muted noise. People blurred as he stared into her eyes.

“Luis…”

Damian’s breath caught at the whisper of his real name. How he heard it over the crowd, he didn’t know. It just proved he was locked in on her. His feet moved on their own accord and before he knew it she was wrapped up tight in his arms. A feeling of home washed over him. He damned the coat she wore as he pressed his hands into her back. He was probably hurting her as the championship belt was digging into her back, but he couldn’t let the belt go or her. Her hands pressed against his back. His skin on fire where she touched and he wished the contact was skin on skin. He damned the barricade between them that kept them separated from the waist down.

Her body shuddered in his arms and leaned into him. He happily accepted her weight. “Fuck…” he uttered, tightening his hold. Time was of the essence and the window for him to keep standing in her arms rapidly closing.

“I gotta go…” he whispered directly into her ear after ducking his head down and adjusting his arms in an attempt to hide his face from prying eyes and cell phone cameras and online lip readers. His words caused her arms to tighten and her hands to press harder into him.

He wanted to keep her with him forever. He wanted to lift her in his arms and carry her with him to the back. “Please stay,” he pleaded, not sure what he meant. What could he do going forward? “I’ll…” He’ll what? What could he do? He was about to enter pure chaos when he reached Gorilla. There were interviews, photoshoots, press conferences… he dad was back there. His brothers… “Just don’t go.” He settled with, hoping she’ll agree to stay for the rest of the show to give him time to think about his next move. He wasn’t letting her go.

When she nodded her head, he squeezed her in his arms one last time. He slowly pulled away and their eyes met again. Emotions swirled in hers. Sure they did in his too.

The noise of the crowd threatened the bubble they were in. He cupped her face with his hands. The title still clutched in his right hand, he had to settle for his knuckles touching the soft skin of her cheek. Without thought to who was watching, what cell phone was on him, or even what WWE camera had him in view, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers. It was quick – much quicker than he would have liked – but stole his breath nonetheless. As he lifted his head, he ran his thumb over her cheek in a soft caress before he forced himself to leave her.

Luis was pushed to the side and Damian appeared once he caught sight of his friends still gathered at the top of the ramp. Reaching the top, he held his arms wide motioning them to come to him. Finn reached him first wrapping his arms around him from the right. Dom from the left. JD met him from the front jumping into the pile before Rhea joined at last.

They jumped up and down in excitement. Hands slapped backs and arms squeezed necks.

“Raise the title up, mate!”

Damian took Finn’s advice and turned around on top of the stage. With his music still playing, he gripped the title in both hands and held it high in the air. He’s friends gathered on either side of him with their arms raised. A cameraman stood in front of him capturing the moment that would live forever.

In Gorilla he was met with applause. Adam Pearce was the first to meet him with a slap to his back. Damian stood there with a huge grin on his face, taking it all on. Arms wrapped around him from behind from JD. He tapped his chest, his heart working double time. Rhea was right there and he drew her to him with his free arm wrapped over her shoulders. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a squeezing hug.

“You’re the fucking champion,” she declared in his ear, her voice wavering as she fought to hold her tears back.

Damian laughed. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Rips.”

“Bullshit,” Rhea spat as they rocked back and forth. “And don’t think I won’t be asking what you were doing with that fan…”

He released her with another laugh and felt his face heat. “You saw that?”

“We all saw that,” Finn was next to draw him into a hug. “Love you man.”

Finn knew every emotion he was feeling and going through having won the Universal Title for Raw back in 2016 when Damian was still taking his licks in the independent circuit. Finn had to relinquish the title the next day because of injury and has been trying to claw his way back to the top title scene ever since. Even though Damian currently held the top title on Raw, he hoped his friend got there.

Damian was then met with Triple H. “Thank you,” he told the man, his voice thick with emotion. It was Paul who gave him this opportunity. Without Paul, he would still be an unknown name stuck down in NXT or even worse.

“You earned this.” Paul said into his ear with accompanying back slaps. “You have worked hard and deserve every moment of this. Just let me know if you plan on making out with a fan every time.”

Damian gave a surprised bark of laughter as the hug broke. “Not a fan.”

His eyes must have given something away, for Paul smiled at him before slapping his shoulder one more time. “Congratulations.”

“Now you don’t gotta carry that stupid briefcase around anymore.”

Damian turned and met CM Punk coming to him. “Hey man,” he laughed. He didn’t say it, but he was probably going to miss that thing. It had been a staple at his side since he won it back in July. Then again, the thing was an embarrassing accessory at times especially when he was going through the airport.

There were so many people congratulating and hugging him. He took it all in. He spent the the longest time in the arms of his father, who hugged him tight as he told him how proud he was. His own eyes welled with tears hearing his father’s voice waver with emotion.

Before he knew it an hour passed by and he was starting to take photos. By himself with the championship title. With Triple H. With Rhea.

“Why do you keep fucking with your leg?”

Damian removed his hand from the inside of his thigh in a quick manner like he’d been caught red handed. “Man, I put on my gear earlier and it ripped right in the seam.” He cocked his knee and reached down showing her where the seam came apart in the middle of his thigh. “I have black tights on under to hide it.”

“You dumbass.” Rhea laughed. “Why didn’t you just go back to wardrobe and have them sew it?” She wrapped her arm around his back while he did the same. They each held their belts up with their free hand.

“I just wanted to be left alone. Everyone I passed in the halls kept asking if I was gonna cash in. I couldn’t get away from it.”

Rhea understood. They all tried to give Damian his space in the hours leading up to the start of Wrestlemania. They didn’t bombard him with questions. They let him have his peace. They talked if he wanted to. Most importantly they were just there for him.

“You gonna tell me what that little scene was after you won?”

Damian knew the questions were coming, especially from Rhea. He wasn’t someone who got embarrassed easily but he felt his face heat. He looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet.

“Come on,” Rhea needled him. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone? You don’t have to keep that from me.” Lord knows it would be nice to be on the advice giving side of relationships after she pestered Damian so much during the early stages of her own relationship with Matt.

“I’m not. Come on. I would tell you.”

“You just randomly pick a fan out of the stands and kiss her?”

Damian shook his head. “Remember when you weren’t sure if you wanted to take a chance on Matt?”

Rhea nodded. She was a mess back then probably still is in some cases. Trying to torpedo her own fledging relationship before it could even start due to her own anxiety and insecurities. “Yeah, you told me a story about…” she broke off and her eyes widened. “That’s her?”

Damian shook his head in affirmation. “Yeah.”

“No shit,” Rhea said in disbelief. During a late night where she once again brought up her fledging relationship with Matt, seeking Damian’s advice. Their relationship was more of a sexual nature, not for lack of trying on Matt’s part. It was Rhea who kept herself at a distance because there were so many issues that could crop up dating a fellow wrestler. A messy break up with a co-worker. Locker room talk. One of them being let go… there were so many reasons that entered her mine. Some sound, most relied on planets aligning, some made up in her head.

‘Why are you taking all this on your shoulders? Matt has a say in all this too.’ Then Damian opened up about an old relationship where the issues were different, the result was the same. He carried it all on his shoulders and didn’t allow the woman to have a say. He made the decision on his own to walk away.

‘It’s one of the biggest regrets that I have.’

“Did you know she was gonna be here?”

Damian shook his head again. “No idea.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“What can I do?” Damian looked at his friend. “I’m stuck here for who knows how long. I asked her to stay, but again… when can I actually get to her?”

“You once gave me great advice on my own relationship when I wouldn’t get out of my own way.” Rhea moved closer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She’s here for a reason, Dame...”

“To watch Wrestlemania…”

Rhea rolled her eyes. “It’s an absolute shock you were able to give me advice with Matt when you truly are an absolute idiot…”

“Hey…” Damian was offended.

“That woman is not here to watch Wrestlemania you idiot. She’s here to see you!”

“I mean…maybe?”

Rhea growled in frustration. She spun away from her friend, walking toward a table where a couple of backstage crew members were gathered. “Anyone have a piece of paper and a pen?”

“Yeah, here.” One of the women reached inside a brown leather bound portfolio. She tore off a piece of paper along the perforated edge.

It was a smaller than the legal pad Rhea saw inside the binder but it would serve its purpose. She grabbed a pen from the scattering of BIC pens on the table. Walking back to Damian, she handed him the objects.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Write her a note. Give her your phone number.” Rhea found it hard to believe Damian could be this dense. She found it harder to believe she acted this way when Damian was trying to steer her toward the path she wanted to take but was too scared. “If she calls you or messages, then you know she wasn’t just here to watch.”

Damian saw the merit in Rhea’s idea. He couldn’t get away from his backstage obligations. There was no way to truly estimate a time he would be free. She couldn’t wait in the stands forever. A note could be given to her explaining.

He moved away to get some privacy. He held the paper to the wall with one hand before writing just a short line and his phone number. Why he didn’t think of doing this before, he had no idea. His brain was firing on too many circuits with not only winning the championship but seeing her again after all this time.

Without hesitating, he ended the note with an L.

‘Luis…’

He could still hear his whispered name from her lips.

Maybe Rhea was right and she was here to see him.

“Hey,” Rhea pulled a young crew member over to them. “Did you see the woman in the crowd with Damian?”

The crew member chuckled. “We all did.”

“You remember where she was sitting and what she looks like?” Damian folded the note in half, creasing it with his fingers. When the crew member nodded he handed off the paper. “Please give this to her?”

The crew member was gone with a nod.

Later, while he was sitting behind the microphone for his time-slot at the Wrestlemania press conference, changed from his ring gear into a custom suit, his phone vibrated against his thigh. With an ear listening to the question about his title being the ‘workhorse title’, a phrase coined by Seth Rollins, he slipped his phone from his pocket.

‘I’ll be there.’

Those words made him want to throw his hands out to his sides with his fists clenched, throw his head back and roar to the sky like he did in the ring after winning the championship. He settled for a wide grin and turned his attention back to the reporters.

Next Chapter

[gorgenia77]

Wrong side of the bed.

Hey, this is my first fic so sorry if it’s ass 🙈. It’s pretty brief, more of a one shot thing. Might be a little bit toxic, but not really. Enjoy <3

Pairing: Seth Rollins X f/reader (no use of y/n)

-Seth and reader have a little falling out due to Seth’s grumpiness, but soon make up. 18+ SMUT.

A night that consists of skin to skin, sweet words and soft kisses are always something that made you feel infinitely close to Seth.

Being held in his arms as he gently moves your hips, kissing your jaw softly as you both pant words full affection. However. Sometimes, being chest down, with his hands roughly gripping your hips as he violently slams into you, can be just as blissful.

Sat on his knees with your thighs to the sides of his thighs, tits rubbing against the bedsheet due to his violent thrusts and a permanent imprint of his fingers on your hips, had all started from a bad day and an overreaction.

————————————♡︎———————————-

Seth had woken up, pissed. One of those unexplainable type of annoyance with little to no explanation that just made him want to scoff at anyone and everyone. He had woken up late, groggy and moody. Admittedly, he was a bit of a dick to you this morning.

“Hey Baby, good morning. I made you breakfast.”

You said with a grin as he entered your shared kitchen. A stunning plate of protein bagels and fruit set up for him.

Barely acknowledging you, he grumbled “I don’t have time” and headed to the bathroom to shower. Not even a glance at the meal you had prepared for him.

Not only had he ignored and disrespected your efforts, but he hadn’t even tried to explain he just wasn’t feeling it today. He never acted like this, he always appreciated your gestures, if had time or not. A frown appeared on your face. Does your time and effort mean nothing to him?

They eventually got in the car, Seth was driving as you looked out the window. Silence filled the car, an awkward tension lingering. He stole a few glances at you before finally breaking the silence.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a monotone voice.

Without making eye contact, keeping your vision on the passing cars, you replied back bluntly “nothing.”

He sighed, too tired to deal with this right now. “Okay.”

You sat with a frown mimicking him “okay.”

The rest of the journey remained deathly silent.

————————————♡︎———————————

Later that day, you had both gone off to train separately. He was still in a pissy mood, for god knows what.

After working out for hours you took a break. Feeling pretty hungry, you decided to go grab some food with Roman as you’d both started lunch at the same time. Sitting down in the canteen, you both laughed and ate. Simply just two friends on lunch. Just as you had just finished your meal Seth made his way over, sitting down. You decided you still weren’t speaking to him.

“Mind if I join you” Seth asked looking between you and Roman.

Roman smiled and pushed out a chair for him “not at all man.”

You were still pissed about how rude he was early so you replied bluntly.

“I’m done, actually.”

As you stood up to leave, he grabbed your wrist. “I’ve barely seen you today, stay for a little bit?” He felt guilty about earlier. He hadn’t meant to be such an asshole. His eyes searched yours in hopes you weren’t still mad.

“Can’t. I need to get back. I’m glad you finally have time to eat though.”

With that you walked off, making Seth sigh a little. He deserved it, but you were purposely punishing him. His bad mood should never warrant you feeling unappreciated.

Roman held his hands up as Seth looked at him “Hey man, I don’t wanna know.” Seth groaned, knowing you weren’t gonna let this go easily.

————————————♡︎————————————

You had finished training for the day, but you had to wait for Seth as he was still your ride home. To kill some time, you decided you deserved a sweet treat. As you were looking around at what to get, you saw a specific type of cookie that you had Roman had been talking about at lunch earlier. These cookies were ones from your childhood, the ones you were both reminiscing about. Smiling, you grabbed them and headed back.

As you arrived, Roman and Seth had just finished their training together. You approached them. Roman smiled as you greeted them and Seth looked you up and down, trying to assess if you were still pissed at him.

“So you know how we were taking about those cookies early.” Grinning, you pulled the box from behind your back, presenting them.

“Tadah!”

Roman chuckled, taking one from the box “Ah where the hell did you find them?” He said with excitement in his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it” you chuckled, wanting to keep it a mystery. Seth however, was not chuckling. She hadn’t even greeted him. Not even offered him one.

“Can I have one?” Seth’s tone displayed that he was silently annoyed at your childish antics.

“Do you have time?” You shot back.

Seth sighed in annoyance. You was really clinging onto this. As they got to the car, he turned to you. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? What the hell is your problem?!”

The bickering continued until you stepped into the apartment.

————————————♡︎————————————

“Im sorry alright. Jesus Christ!” Seth huffed out, holding his hands up in frustration.

Just as you were about to give out another smart ass comment he pushed you against the wall, a hand gently placed on your chest

“Im sorry. You’re mad cause I didn’t appreciate you this morning? Mhm?” His brown eyes didn’t leave yours. A hint of guilt, frustration and love sat behind them.

Looking up, you now felt small, he looked really good like this. “Yeah.”

“You’ve been pissy all day cause I didn’t give you enough attention?” He said as he unzipped your jacket slowly, his voice almost apologetic and teasing at the same time.

“You want some attention?” He asked with his brown eyes now darker than usual. You stared up at him. Oh you were in for it.

—————————————♡︎————————————

With his dick thrusting into you harshly, you could only whine. Both of you using the built up frustration from the day to feel pleasure.

“You wanna ignore me all day, hm?” He grunted, grip firm on your hips.

When nothing but a moan left your lips, a large palm graced your ass. The stinging sensation making you whine.

He pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest, his voice in your ear

“I asked you a question baby.” He growled.

“M’sorry.” Was the only words that could leave your mouth. Your head spinning as his thrusts continued to fuck you throughly.

He hummed in your ear, his hand coming around to play with your nipples before then gently rubbing your clit. “My pretty baby” he grumbled possessively, making you cry and clench around him.

————————————♡︎————————————

You laid on his chest, skin to skin as he stroked your hair. The sounds of your heavy breathing the only prominent sound in the room until Seth spoke.

“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough was I?” He asked tenderly, holding you close against his chest.

You shook your head “No, it was good.”

With that he placed a kiss to your head.

“I’m sorry for being such an asshole earlier. I was just in one of those moods, you know. But I do appreciate when you make me breakfast. I’m sorry” he mumbled into your hair, his tone soft and sincere.

“I’ll forgive you, for now.” You smirked softly. “But only if you play with my hair.”

He chuckled, kissing you gently before rolling you to your side. “Come on then” he said as he pulled the hair tie from your hair, gently playing with it as your eyes flickered shut.

Thank you for reading!! Feedback is welcome. Also there is a desperate urgent need for more Seth fics on this app!!