#brymox

[ghostly-fulcrum]

Saw this discussion n it made me think of them lmao 🤷🏻‍♀️

Bonus

[princeofpace]

It used to be so Civilized

Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson

Home Invasion Kink; Choking TW

[Ao3]

Moxley adjusted his leather gloves, flexing his fingers as he did. They were well taken care of, oiled and soft. The heat of his hands had shaped the gloves over the years of use he got out of them. He couldn’t help the way it made him excited to wear the pair for this.

He grabbed the crowbar off the ground, quietly as he could. It was just past midnight. The property was quiet as can be, especially for this time of night. It was after midnight; if Mox had to guess it was around 2 AM. Quiet, save for the wind and rustling leaves. He rounded the house to the side door. It would be less likely someone would see him there. Black mock neck, with black cargo pants and boots practically hid him in the darkness of the night.

M ox knocked on the door, waiting a moment before twirling the crowbar in his hand, wrapping both hands around the crowbar, raising his over his head and knocking the doorknob clean off. A gloved hand grabs the shattered knob, gripping it tightly as he yanked it off, fingers entering the hole that had been cut out for the knob as he quietly opened the door, shutting it behind him silently, as if it even mattered.

Boots found themselves on kitchen tile, tracking in some dirt as he walked around, crowbar trailing on the ground behind him. His lazy saunter took him through the house, as he memorized the various rooms. The kitchen was on the side, there was a cozy den in the back that lead out to a patio, a nice bedroom turned exercise room on the first floor. Dining room, with fancy looking wood furniture, and a cotton table runner that was stained with use. There were papers and documents here and there. A sense of being lived in was present in the house. Mox liked that. The photos, the paintings, the decorations. Part of him wanted to start smashing away, at TVs and glass; to tear up couch cushions with the knife he had strapped to his left leg.

That wasn’t what he was here for though.

Mox picked up a picture frame. A photo of Nigel and Bryan from their ROH days. It was a nice picture. Cute, the way Bryan didn’t look at the camera and had an awkwardness to him that was still present to this day. Nigel seemed as confident and cocky as ever, just with some extra chub on him. He looked good too, and Mox would’ve loved having taken a crack at him personally in the ring.

He looked around the room. It was a little sitting area in the front of the room, with plenty of photos and knickknacks to choose from. There was a display of belts in a glass case, that Mox walked ove r to, mostly to muse over. All the fancy gold and belts in the world didn’t matter to him right now. This wasn’t what he was here for either.

The real prize was up those stairs. He knew exactly where his mark was. As quietly as he could in his Magnum work boots, he made his way up the stairs. There was no subtlety in how the crowbar thunked up each stair, lagging right behind him like a dog being dragged.

The second floor landing was all hardwood, compared to the carpeted floors of most of the first floor. Master bedroom, that was his target.

Walking up to each door, he kicked them in with ease. Bathroom. Empty bedroom. Office room. Finally, with two doors left, he found it.

The room was dark, spacious, with the curtains drawn but fluttering as the windows past them were open. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of a white noise machine and the gentle through the curtains. There was a ceiling fan but it wasn’t running. The bed was off to the left, headboard against the center of the wall. There was two nightstands, but one was woefully cleared of any contents on top of it. The other held a few things on top of it: a book, a lamp, and a framed photo.

“Bryan…Bryan…” Moxley called out, watching the lump under the comforter try not to shift. “Let’s not make this difficult.”

He walks over to the bed, boots silenced as they land on carpet under the bed frame. Mox hooks the part of the crowbar that’s curved onto the duvet, slowly dragging it down. There was his target, his prey…Bryan Danielson. Wide eyed, nervous as a jackrabbit. Ready to run like one too. Stripped down to just a plain white t-shirt and some plaid boxers. Mox ran the crowbar down Bryan’s body, cold metal starting under his chin and trailing over his clothes. Against his hardening nipples, pushing the crowbar into them as he watched Bryan bite his lip.

Mox couldn’t believe his own arousal, not hiding it as he groaned watching Bryan’s reactions as the crowbar went lower, hooking into his boxers and pulling the waist band away from Bryan’s hips for just a moment, before letting them snap back into place. Bryan is still able to keep silent, but the outline of his dick through his boxers was clearer than ever. Moxley pushes the crowbar against it, and to his frustration still no response. So he does the next thing that comes logically to him, raising that crowbar above his head. Panic fills Bryan’s eyes, as he quickly rolls out of the way just in time as Moxley brings the crowbar down onto the bed.

Bryan is on the floor for just a moment, scrambling up to his feet. He runs for the closet and Mox barks out a laugh.

“There’s no way you could hold me off right now babe, give it up.” He walks over to the closet Bryan is trying to lock himself into, grabbing Bryan and pulling him off the door. That earns him an elbow to the face that sends him staggering back with a “FUCK!” and the dropping of the crowbar he was holding as he brings a gloved hand up to his face, checking for any blood from his nose.

There’s the slightest glint of relief in Bryan’s eyes as he opens the door to the closet and rushes to close himself in it, but Mox is quicker and stronger, especially right now. Especially after Saturday. Leather hands on both the door’s edge and the corner of the wall into the closet keep the door open. Mox grunts as Bryan keeps trying to shut the door, trying to kick Moxley’s leg out from under him.

“You fucking bastard,” Moxley isn’t having it, kicking Bryan’s knee and making him fall back into the walk-in closet. He lands on his ass and scrambles backwards, further into the mess of shoes on the floor. Mox completely opens the door, stalking further in.

Suddenly, Bryan tries to dash from be tween Moxley’s legs, and for a moment he’s almost made it through before the home invader literally drops on top of Bryan, pinning him to the ground.

“Look at you champ,” Moxley gets an arm around Bryan’s throat, threatening him with that triangle choke. He pets Bryan’s hair, shushing him before he can even speak. “You can make this easy Bryan, or very, very hard.”

Bryan lets out a low whine from his throat, his arms tucked under him. He tries for the army crawl. Moxley can’t help but be entirely endeared to it, before squeezing his arm tighter around Bryan’s neck, who lets out a groan in response.

“Good boy, that’s what I want to hear.”

Mox adjusts himself on top of Bryan, pressing his hard dick against Bryan’s ass. Even with the layers of clothes between them, he could feel how much Bryan wanted him inside him. Moxley was so used to Bryan being able to put up more of a fight, that his submission only made him feel even more excited. Like a mutt in heat, he began to rut against Bryan. Bryan pushed his hips up against Mox’s dick, and the bliss of it got to Mox as his arm loosened around Bryan’s neck.

“Mox, just fuck me already, please—”

That arm around his throat tightened.

“Now keep quiet,” Mox whispered in Bryan’s ear, before biting it hard and pulling on it with his teeth.

With his left arm free, he snuck it under Bryan, making him lift his hips more into Mox ley ’s as Moxley got his knees up under h im.

Now that there was enough space, his gloved hand was shoved into Bryan’s boxers from the front, earning him a hitched noise from Bryan. Even with the gloves, he could feel the slick precum leaking from Bryan’s dick. Rubbing his thumb against the head of his dick, Bryan moaned, as Moxley began to rub harder just under the head of his dick, into the shaft, before starting to jerk him off.

Mox couldn’t help himself, savoring the small pants and noises Bryan made as Moxley humped him from behind and got him off with his hand alone. It wasn’t very long for Bryan to reach the edge of his orgasm, something Moxley was surprised with. Bryan usually had so much self control. The fact that he was this easy tonight was like he was being served wagyu beef for free. Not something he wanted all the time, but something he could savor right now.

Instead, despite protesting whines from Bryan, Moxley had other plans. He pulled Bryan’s briefs off, one side and then the other, struggling as Bryan tried to stop him with pathetic attempts at flailing. To keep him down, Moxley removed his arm from Bryan’s throat, instead deciding to bite down as hard as he could without breaking skin at the right side of Bryan’s throat. He finally got the boxers off, balling them up in his fist and shoving them into Bryan’s mouth.

“If you want to get what you want, you’ll keep that in your mouth okay?” He was practically growling in Bryan’s ear, a thread of spit having connected Bryan’s throat to Mox’s mouth as he spoke. Bryan could barely nod, his eyes clearly showing he was blissed out already.

The impromptu gag was to give Bryan some sense of relief, from being choked and to let him get more vocal should he want. Mox knew Bryan, in his stubbornness, that he’d keep quieter than either of them enjoyed out of some semblance of pride.

Moxley always loved dismantling that pride.

He grabbed Bryan by the hips, lifting them up. Bryan always looked great with his face against the floor and his ass up in the air. Moxley reached into one of his cargo pants’ pockets, pulling out a small bottle of lube. He flipped the cap open, free hand pulling at Bryan’s asshole to expose it. With two fingers above it and two fingers below it, he stretched it out to drop some lube over it, and over his fingers.

“Relax or this’ll hurt,” Moxley warned, as if Bryan didn’t know. He took his pointer and middle finger, pouring some more lube over the gloves, before pushing them slowly inside Bryan, who seemed more than eager to accept the fingers into himself. Moxley worked them in, pushing slowly before scissoring his fingers to try to open his prey up. His fingers were thick, made thicker with the gloves, and he curled them with muscle memory guiding him. Bryan let out a muffled groan from where his face was pressed into the carpet, and Mox couldn’t help the grin on his own face.

He curled his fingers one last time before pulling them out. Moxley undid the button on his cargo pants, unzipping them, before tugging his own dick out through the hole in his boxers. He grabs the lube again, pouring more on Bryan before his own dick. From there, it was grabbing Bryan by the hips with one hand, his other hand leading his dick into the other man’s ass.

He slid in slowly.

“Breathe, baby,” Mox reminded Bryan as his shaft disappeared into Bryan. “You always feel so damn good.”

Once the base of his own hips were flush with Bryan’s ass, he began to thrust into him harder and faster. Both hands gripped into the other man’s hips as he did, starting to shove Bryan onto his dick than thrusting himself. Bryan’s muffled moans only egged Moxley on as he picked up the pace. Gloved fingers dug into Bryan’s flesh, as he clenched around his assailant.

Suddenly, Moxley reaches his left hand down toward Bryan’s head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling him up like that, before wrapping that arm around Bryan’s throat once again, pressing Bryan’s back against his chest as he continued to fuck him, shifting to thrusting his hips into him.

“You’re so close babe, you can do it,” Mox whispered in his ear, before groaning as Bryan writhed against him. He could feel the way Bryan was getting close, knowing he wasn’t too far behind. He could feel his orgasm coming closer and closer, nearly being pushed over the edge as Bryan came over himself, thick white stripes of cum painting the carpet in front of them.

Moxley let himself release into Bryan, filling him up with his own cum. He kept pumping his hips, groaning low and long as he continued to come into Bryan. The warmth around his dick felt amazing like always as Bryan was starting to go limp in his arms.

He finally lets go of Bryan, onto the carpet under them. He pitches forward unceremoniously. All that’s filling the air is the sound of panting, and the smell of sweat and cum.

They stayed in that position for a few moments, Mox’s softening dick in Bryan. Slowly, Mox pulls out, tucking his dick away into his boxers and zipping up the cargo pants, buttoning it up. He stands, admiring his work. Bryan, flat on the ground, with cum leaking out of his ass, back rising and falling as he breathed. Reaching down, Moxley pulled the dirty boxers out of Bryan’s mouth. Through teary eyes, Bryan looks up at him and Mox smiles. He liked this view, a lot. He always loved seeing his work, when he could dismantle Bryan. This was a lot less methodical than normal, but it worked out pretty well.

Moxley bent over, grabbing Bryan’s face and giving him a rough kiss on the cheek.

“Love ya. Feel better Bryan.”

[sonnykissed]

a gift from a dear friend 💗

going right next to the only two boxed WWE figs I have. guess who it is?

brymox4ever

[nagdabbit]

built to last

words: 1.4k

rating: gen, it's fluffy as shit

so the other night i was high off my ass and was like, tell me something silly to write cuz im in the mood to accept prompts, and @sarahcakes613 was like,

and then I vomited this out into existence, fell asleep, woke up and forgot it for several days. so, uh. here? have some stupid fluff?

(also on ao3)

.

He woke to the sharp smack of jeans against his forehead and a sharp, demanding, "What the fuck, Bry?"

"What the fuck what?" he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was still dark out, just a little light shining in from the house next to his own. Everything was still drenched in shadow, but Mox made himself seen.

Mox was standing over him in nothing but his t-shirt and boxers, wide eyed and a little frantic, jeans in hand. His shirt was a little wrinkled from a night on the floor, neck stretched a little from where Bryan had wrenched at it, showing off a few bite marks across his clavicle. 

He waved a frantic hand back behind him, "That, Bryan! What the fuck is that out there?!"

His living room? His kitchen? He couldn't think of anything he owned that would leave Mox looking any kind of spooked. Not really, not like that. "I have absolutely no idea."

He kicked the mattress and gestured again, this time toward the window set into the wall. Toward the house next door, and the dock and the lake outside.

"Oh, that's—"

"That's fuckin' water, Bryan," Mox snapped, and gave him another smack with his jeans. "We are on a boat—Bryan, you put me on a fucking boat."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And let me guess, you don't li—"

"I fuckin' hate boats, Bryan. I hate them. They're dangerous fuckin' deathtraps," he snapped, pacing across the room. "I hate boats."

Bryan rolled his eyes and sat up. "You don't say."

"Oh, don't be cute. You said—you said we were going back to your new house," Mox grumbled and threw himself back down onto the bed, wrestling his jeans on. 

"This is a house."

"Bryan this is a—floaty fucking—it's a death trap is what it is. You can put a stove and couch in it, it's still gonna sink," he insisted, continuing to struggle. "Fuckin' tricked me, you goddamn scruffy fuckin' dickhead, I never woulda gone home wit' you if you'd said you bought a fuckin' houseboat." 

"I did say, but you might not have heard me. Little hard to speak when you're trying to lick my tonsils," Bryan muttered rolling his eyes. He stretched a little, pushing back the warm covers.

"Oh, bullshit, you didn't say anythin' about this," he muttered, beginning the process of looking for his socks. 

"You didn't see the dock last night?" he asked, dryly, and crawled forward so he could drape himself across Mox's back. "The water? The boats?"

"I was half asleep and following my dick, 'course I didn't notice." Mox tried to shrug him off, but Bryan just latched on tighter. "You tricked me."

"It's not a trick if I don't know there's a problem. I just wanted to bring you home with me," Bryan promised, scratching his nails lightly across Mox's chest. "C'mon, go back to sleep."

Mox sputtered and gave another violent shrug, but Bryan fought to hold on. "No, why the fuck would I sleep on a boat?!" he demanded, voice a little strangled. "You can't fuckin' swim if you're sleeping."

Bryan wanted to laugh, but he didn't really think that would actually help, not when it was likely to end with him being single. And, for some reason, he kinda loved the man. Just a little. Not that he'd actually said yet, not out loud. So he soothed a palm up Mox's chest, trying to be comforting.

"Calm down, I promise we're safe. Okay? Just let me get a little more sleep. It's early and we don't fly out until the afternoon." He pulled gently, urging Mox to fall back into bed with him. "I promise, if there were any problems, I'd never have brought you. We'll be okay for a few more hours."

"I don't care, it's a boat and I'll get seasick from this rickety fuck—"

"Jon, shut the fuck up for thirty seconds," Bryan grumbled, and pressed a hand to Mox's frantically running mouth. "Take a deep breath, calm down, and then take a moment to notice that we aren't rocking."

He made an indignant sound beneath Bryan's hand, but did as he was told. He was good at that, most of the time. 

"These things are extremely heavy, and have a low center of gravity that keeps them steady. You're not gonna get seasick, unless you work yourself into a panic," he promised, resting his chin on Mox's shoulder. "The most common problem these things have is the sewer line getting messed up, not sinking. Or having to hire a diver to go get something you dropped off the side."

Mox pushed his hand away, "But it can still—"

"A lot of things can happen," he reminded Mox. Bryan didn't think getting specific by reminding him that planes could crash was a good idea, not when they were going to fly out in a few more hours, so he kept it vague. "Just because it can doesn't mean it will. And if this then ever does sink, we'll have plenty of warning and we'll be able to get to the dock before our feet even get wet."

"And it could sink when we're asleep and then we're just s-o-fuckin'-l," Mox added, but he wasn't as tense as he had been. 

"For a man who keeps callin' me a boy scout, you really don't have a lot of faith in me," Bryan admonished, but softened it with a kiss to his shoulder. "I have an alarm. If anything changes, that thing'll go off. And I promise it's loud enough to wake us."

Mox made a skeptical little noise, but didn't immediately argue.

"I had them install flashing lights, too." It was strange how much negotiation was involved in getting Mox to relax. "It's just as safe as any other house."

"Stop making this all sound so fuckin' reasonable," Mox grumbled, and let Bryan wrestle him back down into bed. "I hate boats."

"You've made that very clear, babe, but it's a little hard to find a new house at four in the morning."

Mox scoffed and let himself be manhandled up the bed. "Don't sell your fuckin' boat, Bry."

He rolled his eyes and dropped his weight down onto Mox's chest, just to keep him from running off again. Definitely not because that was his favorite place to sleep, legs parted over Mox's hips. "Can't bring you home if you're just gonna panic yourself into a tizzy every time you're here."

"But—"

"But nothing, it's not worth it if you're gonna freak out." And it really wasn't. Being in love was stupid, like that.

Mox groaned and kicked one of his heels against the mattress. "I don't have to come here."

"Then what's the point of having this place?" Bryan asked, before he could think better of it. "I don't need it if I just want to be wherever you are."

Beneath him, Mox went still and quiet. 

He went still when he had realizations. Froze up as his entire world view changed and adjusted and righted itself in his head. Like a reset button, or something. It would have been funny if it wasn't so important.

But then he went lax beneath Bryan's weight. Heavy hands settled low on Bryan's back, dangerously low. "I guess I could get used to it," he murmured.

And that was—well, that was as good a declaration as Bryan had ever heard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you're sure, then I guess I can be, too." He smoothed a palm down to give Bryan's ass a squeeze, "'Sides, I bet we could actually rock this thing if we tried hard enough."

He laughed, finally, relaxing into Mox's hands. "I think sinking wasn't the part you needed to worry about anyway."

Mox made an inquisitive sound, hands still kneading Bryan's ass.

"The neighbors definitely heard us last night."

Mox froze. For a few long seconds, he didn't even breathe. 

And then he shoved Bryan off and away, letting him bounce unceremoniously onto the mattress. "Nope, I was right, this is awful and you gotta sell it," he grumbled and resumed his search for his clothes. He muttered under his breath as he went, all manner of plans and ideas. A ranch, far from the city, with room for a couple more dogs and no neighbors for miles. A cabin deep in the woods, where they wouldn't be disturbed. 

A little place in the suburbs, with a patio and a yard and room for—with plenty of room.

And Bryan didn't think he'd ever been so happy. He laid back and watched Mox throw his little fit, laughing all the while. 

[elitehoe]

BIG JEFF COBB BOOKED FOR DYNAMITE OH BROTHER IM ERECT

[faggotmox]

"i think they explored each others bodies" no shit, im watchin them do it right now!!

[faggotmox]

tonight bussy died & brymox match lacked rip me

[seth-franklin-rollins]

im indulging with the shipping headcanons cause your brain is Great

sfw: 11, 12, 13 for the shield boys

nsfw: 8, 9 for brymox

I MISSED THIS SOMEHOW?????

SFW (shield):

11. Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?

hehehehe

baths are treats. for physical and/or emotional recovery and restoration. they may not always get in with whoever needs one, but they'll wash them/rub their sore muscles. showers are much more common, and whenever there's room for all three of them in a hotel shower, they make use of it

12. Can they stand silence? Who talks the most? Who talks the least?

yeah, it's comfortable. peaceful. toss-up between seth or dean talking the most, but roman almost certainly talks the least. dean makes random noises a lot but it's not out of anxiety about silence or anything. it's sort of part of the silence, really. this changes significantly post-chairshot

13. Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

dean will stay up too late for his own good if left to his own devices. seth will stay up too late in his own head/working. roman lays down when he's ready to sleep and is out in three minutes.

i think dean is difficult for them to wake up/needs a lot of processing time for his brain to catch up to his body. seth is a cunt about it, but he can wake up and get going pretty quickly. roman wakes up before his alarm on the regular.

NSFW (brymox) (fuck you):

8. Favourite erogenous zones?

i mean... neck. along the ear, around to the back of the neck

mox's shoulders

also bryan's lower back. idk exactly why but.... yeah

9. Quickest turn ons? Immediate turn offs?

i think when the two of them get to be completely alone with each other they fall apart pretty quick. i'm not sure if it would be quicker with them talking to each other all intimate, or saying absolutely nothing at all

mox having a legitimately shitty attitude about things and not even trying to cope makes bryan shut down. no tolerance for that

bryan pushing an issue over the line, going too far when he's being preachy or lecturing, refusing to let something go. that makes mox wanna stab something in his own ear

[wammbam]

the nice quality video of brymox revolution '22 was Deleted and now i have to deal with 8 bit stream quality and OW

[blackpoolcombatwriter]

Mox! Oh we could get BryMox final.

[ijustthinkevilunoisneat]

Fun fact: Uno's last singles opponent on Dynamite was Bryan for those Brymox shippers or whatever the ship is called

[minacoleta]

AEW needs to hire me to make them BCC merch bc it should all look like a gay bathhouse poster

[barbedwirebitch]

give me what i came for! violence!

ohhh buy my shit, you mark!

[sonnykissed]

They always rely on BryMox to save the company in times of darkness, saluting my status as a bccgay4life

[valkyrie-night-103]

THIS IS THE BEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN

of all the Extremely Dumb things found in my high school notebooks, i think that

one of them keeps rescuing strays, the other is the vet who keeps having to kindly tell them that, no, that's not a dog you brought a fucking coyote into my office and no i don't know why it's snuggling you either, but it's like the eighth time this month, and last time it was a bobcat, do you contain any self preservation at all, i don't care if it fetches foxes are wild animals put it back

is my favorite and should be expanded upon.

consider: extremely tired vet bryan and snow white trash mox

[elitehoe]

Jon Moxley vs Bryan Danielson at Revolution