#dean ambrose x you

[perplexedflower]

Waking Up With The Shield - 1/3: Don't Go Baking My Heart

Fandom: WWE.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Dean Ambrose x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 1,497.

~~~~~~~~~~

I slowly opened my eyes, only to find myself enveloped securely in a pair of tender arms; I turned my head to the side and saw Dean, his eyes closed, still peacefully asleep. My arms were wrapped around his bare chest while both of his hands rested on my waist and thighs. In the bedroom reigned a powerful mixture of aromas, combining love and passion, with a hint of sweat. Although I could still smell what was left of my own perfume on my skin, the one scent my nose picked up on was Dean's cologne against his neck and collarbone, the fragrance intense yet soothing. As I breathed in his scent, I closed my eyes and held his body closer to mine, the palms of my hands resting on his back; I nestled my face against his chest, seeking warmth and serenity in the crook of his neck.

Just as I did so, I felt a faint grip on one of my arms, shortly followed by a gentle stroke: when I turned my gaze to my left, Dean's smiling face appeared, his eyes now open, meeting mine with softness.

"Good morning, baby." He whispered sweetly as he combed my hair with his fingers. "I see you woke up before me... for once."

I chuckled lightly at his comment, before I reached for his hands and intertwined my fingers with his; it had become a habit of Dean to be the first one awake, no matter the day, as he greatly enjoyed preparing breakfast in bed for the both of us.

I know he likes cooking breakfast for me because it makes him feel useful and allows him to add a loving touch to our relationship, and even my life in general, and I'm extremely grateful for such an affectionate gesture... but he never seems to realize that he doesn't need to feel obliged to do it every morning. I thought to myself as I stared into his eyes. I've already told him plenty of times before, it's not necessary for me to be any happier than I already am or even to make me understand how much he loves me, I know he does. But every time I argue with him about it, he insists and still ends up being the one to take care of breakfast... I wish we could switch roles, for once.

Dean leaned closer to me, sticking his face against my neck to kiss it tenderly, which pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm... I can smell my cologne on your skin... It's hot." He said, his voice slightly muffled as his nose sniffed my collarbone.

"No wonder, I spent the whole night snuggled against you." I told him with a smile, my cheeks slightly pink. "We were practically glued to each other all night long... Not that it bothered me."

Dean chuckled as he lay his head on his pillow, closing his eyes, and a yawn escaped his lips. Still properly adjusting to the bright rays of sunlight that were peeking through the bedroom window, I gently rubbed my eyes. Then, with a chuckle of my own, I reached for his cheek as I tilted my head slightly.

"But enough of all that." I stated with assertion. "What do you say I make us breakfast in bed today?"

My question coupled with my enthusiastic tone led Dean to open his eyes back and wide.

"I would really like to do it, this time around." I continued with a smile. "Besides, it seems you're too tired to take care of it, anyway."

"I don't really know, [Y/N]..." He answered hesitantly.

"What, do you not trust me with it? Or are you simply too obsessed with that little ritual of yours?" I asked him in a teasing tone.

"Nah, don't be ridiculous." He replied in an attempt to be nonchalant, though the faint blush on his face betrayed his voice. "I don't even know what you're talking about, I'm not tired."

The very second he finished his sentence, his mouth opened wide and came out a yawn, which he tried his best to conceal by turning his face to the side, as if to hide it from my eyes.

"Come on, Dean..." I laughed as I spoke.

With a gentle hand, I grabbed his face once more, lovingly caressing his skin.

"All I'm asking you is to let me do it, just this once. You always take such good care of me, I just want an opportunity to give it back."

Dean turned his head back to face me, his eyes staring into mine deeply: and, after a moment of silence, he closed his eyes and sighed.

"Alright, fine." He said with a smile and a slow headshake.

"Thank you love!" I exclaimed happily.

I leaned forward and left a soft kiss on his lips as a token of my gratitude.

"Now, I know the quality of the breakfast is obviously not going to be as premium as when you do it, but I'll do my best to reach your level of excellence." I said jokingly while I shifted into a sitting position on the bed.

"I swear I won't be too harsh on you." He said back, just as playfully.

I pecked his lips with mine one last time, the sensation of his rough beard rubbing against my skin sending shivers all the way down my spine, after which I stood up from the bed; I outstretched both my legs and arms while a yawn escaped through my mouth, then made my way out of the bedroom, heading for the kitchen. As I walked to the door, I passed by our large full-length mirror that was attached to the wall and caught a brief glimpse of myself: my hair was completely disheveled, my oversized t-shirt was sliding off one of my shoulders, and my limbs were covered with marks the bedsheets had left all over my skin.

After having exited the bedroom, I set out for the kitchen, which was just as messy as I was: the counter was littered with beer bottles from the previous night, the majority of them being empty, which I proceeded to throw away before I grabbed a cloth and cleaned the surface of the counter. I took this time to clean other corners of the kitchen, though without wasting too much time. And then, after a few minutes, I finally got down to cooking breakfast for Dean and myself.

Once I was done, I took an empty tray and filled it entirely, with both food and drinks of a wide variety, which I knew would satisfy him just as much as it would me. With the heavy tray in my hands, I carefully made my way back to the bedroom, assuring I would not break anything; I walked through the open doorframe with a glowing smile and my eyes landed on Dean, who was still comfortably lying in bed, his eyes closed.

"Your breakfast is ready, sir." I solemnly declared before I chuckled.

He opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of my voice and an excited smile shaped his lips when he took notice of the tray in my hands.

"That's... a lot of things, baby." He told me with genuine surprise.

"I know, I know." I said as I felt a faint layer of blush spread across my face.

As I approached the bed, Dean outstretched his arms and moved his body on the bed, sitting with his back straight so that he would be in a more comfortable position to eat. I could see by the look in his eyes that I had managed to impress him, and this filled me with a great feeling of pride and happiness.

"Here you go." I said while I set the tray down on the sheets, over his legs.

I began to arrange the bed a little in order for us to be physically at ease by flattening the sheets and setting the pillows to the side, when he unexpectedly reached for my face and kissed my lips gently, catching me by surprise and leading my skin to grow yet even redder. After he pulled away, he stared deeply into my eyes, his thumbs brushing my cheeks.

"Thank you, sweetheart." He said sincerely. "I know I always insist on being the one to take care of it...  but it really means a lot to me to have you prepare breakfast for me this morning."

With a shy smile, I sat down next to him and slid my legs under the blanket, squeezing them against his.

"You're more than welcome, Dean." I told him with an affectionate smile. "I'm happy to do it for you, too."

While displaying a smile of his own, he brought me closer to him, close enough for me to rest my head on his shoulder, before he pulled the tray toward him.

"Now, let's get down to it, shall we?" He asked enthusiastically. "I'm starving."

[mamirhodessxox]

Guys how do we feel about Dean Ambrose x Singer!OC for a oneshot?!?!

[dirtywrestling]

Hi can you do a female reader where she finds out Orton cheated on her and at wrestlemania she betrays him and leaves him for Dean Ambrose smut plz <3

Pairing: Dean Ambrose x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Minors DNI, Cheating, Smut

Commission Requests: Open!

Imagine Requests: Open!

Follow My Side Blog!: @dirtywresling102

Months ago you were in tears, crying backstage in the womens locker room as you had just found out your boyfriend, Randy Orton of two years, has been cheating on you with Charlotte Flair. The only person who came to your rescue was Dean Ambrose.

"Hey, fuck that guy. Come on, lets get some drinks in you."

Ever since that night Dean was by your side 24/7 and if you ever were in a bad mood he'd made things right.

Deciding to be care free you were ring side during Randy's match against Dean. Randy came to the commentating table where Dean was distracting the ref. "Y/N, what are you doing out here. We both know you shouldn't be with him. I told you I'm sorry." Randy pouted with his big blue eyes. Furrowing your brows you stood up and kicked Randy in between his legs making him collapse. The ref not seeing anything, Dean quickly slid out of the ring and got Randy, pushing him back inside getting the pin.

Dean pushed you inside the nearest locker room that wasn't being used, shutting the door behind him he pulled you into a kiss. His sweat covered tank top was tossed to the floor as your hands explored his chest. "Fuck baby, you did amazing out there." Dean moaned, his hands roaming your body as he pulled you against him. "Such a good girl." Dean sighed out, his hands dipping into your waist band. "Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me." Dean praised, two of his large digits sunk into your cunt.

[damiansgoodgirll]

OMG OMG OMG DEAN AMBROSE? I miss him so much so can you please write something fluffy for him?

reader is the complete opposite of him and that’s why they are so cute and in love

dean ambrose x reader

beauty and the beast

everyone loved your relationship with dean.

at first people looked at you both in the wrong way, thinking that you deserved better, or saying that he deserved someone who could handle it because everyone knew how dean was.

but you were able to keep it calm and in control.

you were backstage watching him fighting in the ring and couldn’t contain the emotion when you saw him winning the match.

he never showed happiness on screen so you weren’t surprised when instead of celebrating he came back into the backstage to you. colleagues were congratulating him but he couldn’t care less, all he wanted was to find comfort in your arms.

you literally jumped in his arms when he opened the door.

“you won!” you exclaimed while kissing his cheeks.

“i did!” he said while his arms held you closer to his body.

“i’m so proud of dean…you really deserve it” you said by kissing his cheeks once again.

he wanted a little more tho…

he knew you were too shy to start something first so he took the opportunity and lifted your chin up. his hand went to caress softy your cheek while his eyes never left yours. then his lips met yours in a very tender kiss.

his lips against yours felt like heaven.

“we should probably celebrate…” you whispered against his lips. he wished you meant by having a very hot steamy make out session and some mind blowing sex but he knew your mind was too pure for that so he accepted the offer about going out for a few drinks.

during the night out his hands never left your body. while he was driving his hand was on your thigh and when you got into the bar his hands went from your shoulders to your waist.

you got seated in the corner, away from the public eye. the bar lights were dark, giving you more privacy.

you drank and talked all night, never missing the sweet kisses he would give you occasionally, making your heart skip a beat.

“i really like this place…” dean said.

it was a bar that you looked at on instagram. knowing you were touring with him and that you were in a different city almost everything you wanted to discover more things to do so when your eyes caught up with this bar on ig you knew it was perfect, for you and dean.

“i know…i chose it for you…” you smiled at him.

“well it’s perfect princess…” he kissed your lips again, bringing his hands to your hips, motioning to you to sit on his lap.

“people can see us…”

“no one would see us baby…and even if they do they won’t even have the time to look at you that they’ll be already dead” he smirked at you.

you shyly put your head between the crook of his neck while his hands moved onto your back.

“no no princess…look at me, i wanna see that pretty face of yours” he whispered and you lifted your head up.

he started to kiss you a little rougher, making you slightly moan.

you were like trapped between his body, knowing it was going to be a very long night.

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ SHIELDING FEELINGS (LITERALLY) (roman reigns x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: roman reigns x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

heyyyy!! i have a fluff request for roman x (fem) reader. it’s set in his shield days and the reader is a apart of the shield (or a really close allies with them whichever you want) and she’s kind of like the lita of the group. Her and roman have huge crushes on eachother and it’s so obvious to not only seth and dean/mox but the whole wwe universe. So the two guys try to come up with a plan to have them both confess to eachother 😅😅

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: this is pure humour and fluff! basically just himbos dean and seth struggling at playing cupid

ೃ༄WORD COUNT: 1.8k

ೃ༄ NOTE: hello lovely anon i got a BIT carried away with this i apologise but i hope it still works🥹 i had way too much fun writing shield as terrible matchmakers

dean ambrose had a plan.

albeit, it wasn’t a very well thought out one. but it was a plan of somewhat decent calibre.

you see, he had a lot of time for you, acting as shield’s manager and all. what he didn’t have time for was how goddamn dumb you could be sometimes (seth’s words, not his — although he very much agreed).

what was it that got dean so riled up, you ask? well it was the fact that you were so evidently in love with roman reigns, and yet never managed to say more than a pretty pathetic ‘uh, you look nice’ whenever the four of you were backstage.

even worse than you? roman. this man had not kept his crush on your quiet. apparently you were the only one who couldn’t see it, and yet instead of ever acting on said emotions, roman liked to play a fun game of hide from y/n in the locker rooms until it’s time for our match and then i only have to see her for five minutes before. this had, on many occasions, ended with dean nearly throwing him to the ground because of course all this was going to do was make you worry the very beautiful yet stubborn man hated you.

a pretty man, but clearly very little common sense, dean had concluded.

so that was when, after too many training sessions in which you’d sit in silence until your coach brought you into the conversation, he hatched his master plan.

now just to put it into action.

it just so happened the final member of the shield would be a perfect partner.

—

the plan was, in dean and seth’s eyes, bulletproof. they would probably have to undergo a pretty intense intervention afterwards considering how wrong they had been; but at first, their confidence was through the roof.

oh no, dean hurt his shoulder in practice — what a shame! good job seth was there to take him to the medic, a walk he definitely could have done on his own! but they were so smart, right? surely you and roman would talk about something if forced to coinhabit the same space without a buffer?

yeah. they really thought so too.

but after fifteen minutes of hiding behind a comically large stack of chairs, they felt it necessary to put the two of you out of your misery and cry that it was a false alarm.

maybe you two really were more hopeless than dean initially thought.

so came attempt two: the halloween party. because who doesn’t love a good dress up party?

apparently, cupid was more of a christmas fan.

as it happened, vast majority of people brought their dates to the work party, which dean and seth hadn’t planned for, but made the situation even more perfect. not to mention you and roman had accidentally both turned up dressed as demons (finn balor made a playful scene when you walked in) — it was practically a match made in heaven! or hell…

this attempt was easy in theory: set up a conversation about how fun dancing was, before abandoning the two of you at a table to take to the dancefloor themselves. surely you’d get fed up of being left out and want to join???? surely!

except, what dean and seth had failed to consider was that in the spirit of halloween, and the fact that some of the most iconic superstars in the roster loved a good prank, the place was practically decked out with tricks, instead of treats.

dean and seth observed quietly from the dancefloor (they had long since abandoned their girlfriends and were simply dancing together now, chest to chest (hey — this matchmaking was a taxing game!)), practically cheering when they saw the two of you finally getting somewhere.

roman stood, offering a hand to you with a good natured “if you can’t beat them, join them?”, and it was obvious the two of you were so close to finally making that first step as your hand reached for his—

then, a plastic skeleton hidden in a bowl of candy on your tabled decided to choose that moment to make its appearance very known.

and there went your glass of red wine, all down your favourite pantsuit (luckily — it was red too, but the dark patch across your chest was not doing you any favours).

roman very sweetly apologised on behalf of the skeleton, which was the very final part of the conversation seth and dean heard before you were scurrying away to change. they quite literally facepalmed as they walked over to a dumbfounded roman, who still played the entire situation off.

it seemed they’d have to step things up if they really wanted to get through the both of your very thick skulls.

so attempt three was… certainly less subtle.

worse still, it came only a month after the halloween party, when you were still in the thick of your ‘hiding from roman reigns’ era, so imagine your surprise when here comes dean ambrose and seth rollins, dragging roman up to you with the latter wearing an expression of confusion that surely mimicked you own.

“okay.” dean spoke, slamming a hand on the catering table “you, roman, like y/n.”

“you, y/n, like roman.” seth added.

then, like one of those old timely comedy acts, at the same time the men both exclaimed a “now talk!”

and to yours and roman’s credit… you did speak?

it’s not your fault the members of shield hadn’t made the topic entirely clear. it was obvious by now that when it came to roman, you were blind to any subtext, so they could hardly blame you for missing the mark.

“of course i like roman? he’s my friend?” you questioned warily, genuinely beginning to get concerned for the two men you considered friends.

“are you two okay?” roman added, genuine concern across his face as he outstretched a hand to slap seth? check him for a fever? both?

you hummed in confirmation, thinking back on every odd occurrence that had happened between you and roman recently, realising that the common denominator in every situation was the two other members of the stable you managed probably saying something extremely dumb.

—

eventually, dean and seth had to admit they were terrible matchmakers.

when the christmas party that same year had been announced, they very nearly put another thing together, but a swift reminder from the wonderful (and honestly; terrifying) randy orton, the two were reminded of every failed attempt in the past, and their plan unravelled before it had even found it’s feet.

as would turn out, when there wasn’t two idiots meddling, that was when things unfolded themselves.

after the many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate lately, you weren’t expecting roman to approach you mid way through the party. he had spent pretty much the entire night hovering on the opposite side of the room, and for good reason to. you were a liability after all, and his suit shirt was too nice to end up with wine on it. you had opted for white wine instead this time though, just incase.

“hi.” a deep voice came from behind you.

you had been watching triple h and stephanie dancing together for the best part of half an hour, nursing your glass of wine contentedly until the voice behind you had startled you. your glass wobbled in your hand in a terrifying suggested repeat of the halloween event, but roman was prepared this time, swiftly reaching a hand around you and saving it from disaster.

“i should have probably learnt not to sneak up on you.” he joked, motioning with your (thankfully still full) wine glass in his hand before he handed it back to you.

“i certainly learnt that red wine is tasty but dangerous.” you played along, your heart doing a weird thumping thing at how roman chuckled.

“i’m sorry if the other guys ever made you feel uncomfortable.” roman said genuinely, catching you off guard. it was rare you spoke, let alone when the topics brushed a level of seriousness. “we love having you working with us as shield, but they don’t know when to turn off the jokes sometimes.”

you shook your head quickly, hating the idea that roman was concerned about you. sure, dean and seth were idiots at the best of times, but it was a huge part of their charm. from them trying to break roman during promos to their odd, but intriguing backstage celebrations, the slight unhinged enthusiasm was what you loved.

“trust me. i love working with them. with, with you all.” you added at the last second, not missing the slight upper curl in the corner of roman’s mouth when he realised he was included.

you could already feel the blush creeping to your cheeks just because of all his attention being on you, and you knew you were just seconds away from blurting something stupid, when an equally annoying cough came from your side.

comically, both you and roman turned your heads at the same time to see the entirely expected source of the disturbance.

seth and dean were standing a little while away, watching you with the biggest grins you had ever seen. arguably bigger than whenever your team won.

when you realised what was causing their giggles, your heart stopped.

you had casually followed dean’s eyeline, just a simple attempt to see if you could figure out the cause, when you found it immediately. and it seemed roman did too.

mistletoe. hung exactly above where the two of you stood.

you couldn’t help but widen your eyes, going to take a step back but being prevented by a gentle, yet grounding touch to your wrist. when you looked back at roman, he was closer than before, and it was practically an instinct how your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“in the spirit of christmas, right?” he asked, a grin that told it was more than just christmas spirit, and in fact something he had been trying to tell you for a while.

still, you took your time, placing a cautious hand on his bicep as you leant in to connect your lips to his. “in the spirit of christmas.”

[digsys]

Fic anon here :) just read your post about making a superman AU! If i may toss in that I love the idea of using Renee and Dean! But if you’re also looking for more ideas I guess Ambreigns, but if you needed the push I like the idea of Dean and Renee :)

Also I have more song recs for you!

you sent this and i instantly started to write it :') i just loved the idea sm too so here is dean and renee in a clarklois au! i didn't completely adopt the superman aspects but i did write dean acting like clark (which is so ooc but kind of funny). this is around 1k words (:

(also also- send those recs in!!)

"Don't tell me you're late again."

Dean winced, biting his lip. "Okay, look, Re—"

"Dean," Renee said, voice testy, "Dean, please tell me you're anything but late again."

To be completely honest, Dean wasn't late. He was actually right on time, right where he needed to be. He just... happened to be in a vigilante costume and hovering above the building that he was supposed to be inside of. Semantics, honestly.

When he took too long to respond, Renee made a frustrated noise. "Okay, it's fine, it's fine— I'll cover for you. But you better get over here soon, Ambrose."

Dean let out an exhale. "Okay, okay, got it, I'll be there."

Renee hung up and Dean slumped against the wall of the roof. He was exhausted. His phone rang while he was still across the city, so he'd run back to their building to catch Renee's call on the last ring. He was still decked out in his Lunatic gear, knuckles sore from where he'd been pummeling into the giant, Rowan, from the villainous Wyatt family. His brothers were busy with their own fights so he hadn't been able to call them in from where they were working, which meant that he totally missed the monthly meeting that he'd promised Renee he would make on time. Their boss had been giving her a lot of shit for it given that she was Dean's editor — not to mention Dean being on thin ice with the guy in general.

“Damn it.” He sighed before changing into his civilian clothes in a flash, and headed back down to ground level to take the elevator up.

Things weren't easy, being one of only three aliens sent to Earth as a baby twenty-some years ago. They were lucky to have been found by a kind Kansas farmer, Mick, who raised them lovingly, but growing up and learning how to be human was obstacle after obstacle for Dean, his big brother Roman, and his younger brother Seth.

But they did it, anyways. Roman's fighting his way through med school, Seth studying to be an architect, and Dean became a journalist.

He was good enough that the renowned paper, the World Wide Exclusive, hired him straight out of his college internship. And though he hadn't quite made a splash like his brothers, that wasn't really Dean's thing anyways. Roman liked helping people, Seth liked creating things. Dean liked to chase. He didn't care for the top as much as he cared for the clawing his way through the mud.

There were just two issues. One, he was stuck in the sports division. And two... He was maybe, kind of, sort of in love with his editor.

He slid his black-framed glasses on just as the elevator dinged, the doors opening.

Renee Paquette was on the other side, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Dean went to jab at the button to go back down but Renee cut him off, “Ambrose.”

It was always strange, switching away from his superpowered persona into the person that his brothers and he had decided would be best for his secret identity. But it was also instinctive now.

He let his shoulders fall a bit and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Hey, Renee.” He stepped out and rubbed the back of his neck. “How'd the meeting go?”

Renee narrowed her eyes at him, then stomped to her office. Dean bit back a groan and followed.

“I'm waiting for an explanation and I hope it's not an excuse,” she said as soon as the door closed. She leaned against her desk, arms still crossed, frustration barely held back.

Was it terrible that Dean's first thought was about how beautiful she looked today?

“It's not,” he assured, sliding into the chair in front of her. “It's—” His mind worked itself over and over, scrambling for a justification. “Well, it's—” What would Renee consider alright? Was there anything? What could he do to—

A realization lit up his brain. There was a perfect excuse. It was the truth, too. The Lunatic was fighting Rowan and it clogged up the roads. It was realistic and explainable and—

And Renee was maybe, kind of, sort of in love with the Lunatic, so she'd likely accept it as it was.

“Well?” she demanded.

Dean slumped even more. “It was the Lunatic.” He tried not to grumble. “He was fighting Erick Rowan again. I was coming back from my brother's place so I was taking the ferry and got stuck in the traffic jam.”

Renee had brightened up as soon as he mentioned that ridiculous name the press had given his alter ego. ”Wait, the Lunatic— Did you get a quote?”

Dean tried not to frown. “Y'know how he is, Renee. Kind of a ticking timebomb, never stops for anything? No one can get a quote from him for anything.” He swallowed. “'Cept for you, of course.”

Renee's cheeks pinkened. “Well— I mean, I don't know— I... That's besides the point. I get how that was out of your control and I'll share it with the boss.” She tapped her fingers against the wood of her desk. “In fact, I'll tell the boss a way for you to make it up to us, too.”

Dean brightened. “Yeah? Anything, Renee, you know I can write it. Basketball season, right?”

Renee shook her head. “Nope. Try this.”

She tossed a file onto his lap. Dean opened it up and skimmed the contents. He blinked.

“This is...” He looked up, lost. “This is for the Rhodes family. I'm covering the obituary?”

Renee was smiling, a satisfied thing. “You're interviewing the family,” she corrected. “You'll be writing the feature article.”

Dean blinked multiple more times. “'Nee, that's front page shit.”

Renee barked out a surprised laugh, then covered her mouth to suppress her giggles. Dean's heart swooped in his chest at the sound.

“Yes, it's front page shit,” she laughed. “And you deserve it. Yeah?”

Dean shook his head, still a little shocked. “I... I mean, if you say so, boss,” he huffed. “I think you should be the one writing this, though.”

Renee tsked. “I've got something more fitting for my tastes,” she hummed, before walking around her desk to grab her coat.

Dean stood as she was sliding her arms into the sleeves, hair falling gently around her shoulders. “Hm? What's that?”

She turned to face him, an excited little smile on her lips. “Lunatic interview,” she burst out. “He agreed the last time he saved me—”

“He did?” asked Dean faintly.

“—yep, right after he pulled me away from the hotel fire which he also said I shouldn't have been anywhere near but when there's a story—”

“Oh, now I remember,” muttered Dean.

“—so I'm headed up now, he said he'd meet me at noon up on the roof.” She opened up her door. “While I'm gone, you get started on that article, Ambrose.” She paused before leaving. “You've got a lot of talent. It's wasted in the sports division. You're great to have around, Dean.”

When Dean weakly replied with, “thanks, boss,” Renee grinned, winked, then left her office.

As Dean was scrambling out her window to beat her to the roof, he felt his cheeks round from a smile.

Renee never told the Lunatic that he was great to have around. One point to Ambrose! Now Dean just had to find out how to make Renee fall in love with him over the Lunatic.

Semantics, really.

[snekdood]

lmao???

this quiz sorts through characters from like dozens of fandoms and finds the one you’re most like. I’m not even a little bit surprised by my result

[not-neverland06]

Bad Day

part two

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader, Vincent Sinclair x fem!reader (not together, I don’t do that twincest shite) A/N: I don’t usually think about slashers until Halloween, but I’ve just had House of Wax brainrot for the past two weeks, so I wanted to get this out Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence (barely) Summary: Stranded on the side of the road with shitty friends, you’re forced to visit Ambrose, home of the infamous House Of Wax. Unfortunately for you, you manage to catch the attention of not one, but two of the Sinclair brothers.

“Hey, what’s that noise?”

Sarah looks over her shoulder at you and shrugs. “What’re you talking about?”

You roll your eyes and tap Dean on the shoulder, he grunts, the best answer you’ll get from him. “Pull over, I think something’s wrong with the car.” He gives you a questioning glance over his shoulder but shrugs and pulls onto the side of the desolate road. 

You could hear the rest of your friends pulling up behind you in their truck as you hopped out. You walk to the front of the car, popping open the hood and immediately regretting it as a cloud of smoke blasts you in the face. “Shit,” you hiss, backing up and fanning the air in front of your face. 

“Oh, fuck,” the angriest you’d ever heard your stoic friend Dean, and his voice was still barely above a whisper. Alison, Owen, Gwen, and Damien hopped out of their truck and came rushing over to the three of you. 

“What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong with Y/N’s piece of shit car.” You rolled your eyes at Sarah’s bitchy attitude, you don’t know why you agreed to this trip. You barely like any of them, they were horrible people and worse friends. You’re pretty sure the only reason they invited you was because Owen’s truck couldn’t fit all of them and you were the only one they knew with a big enough car for the rest. 

“I saw a sign, some place called Ambrose, we could try there. Might have someone who could help.”

You all glanced at each other, each of you trying to come up with a solution, but nothing was better than Owen’s suggestion. What's the worst that could happen?

Your car had managed to make it long enough to get to some campground, you really hadn’t been willing to just abandon it on the side of the road to be stolen. Now, you all sat in the grass, debating who should head into town. 

“Y/N should go. It’s her car.”

“Thank you, Allison,” you glared at her, “but I’m not willing to go into some strange town all on my own.”

Owen let out a loud sigh before he reluctantly said, “I’ll go with you.” You were overwhelmed by his kindness. Not. 

There was a high pitched scoff and you glanced over to see Allison glaring at her boyfriend. “You volunteered real quick.”

“Ally-”

She held up a hand and walked off, struggling slightly over the damp ground with her heels. Owen trailed after her, offering you a barely there apology as he left you with everyone else. You were acutely aware of how none of them would meet your eye. 

Up ahead, Ally was laying into Owen, probably another fight because she always thought he was trying to sleep with someone else. It didn’t take you long to realize you were on your own. You really hated these people. 

You stood up, shooting dirty looks over your shoulder as you started towards the woods Owen had determined would take you to Ambrose. “Thanks babe!”

You flipped Gwen off and kept walking. You grumbled to yourself as you tripped down the steep hill and cussed each of them out every time your foot sank into mud. The further down the hill you got the worse it was starting to smell. 

At first it was just musky and you assumed the stifling atmosphere was from the humidity. Then it started to really stink, putrid, rotting flesh stink. You gagged slightly the closer you got to the source of the smell. Your stomach was twisting and turning and you thought the skin inside your nose was burning as you tried to breath through your mouth. That only seemed to make it worse. Now you could taste the rot, feel it spilling down your throat.

“Y/N, wait!”

You jumped, looking over your shoulder at Owen approaching you, the rest of your friends behind him. The distraction cost you, though, your foot got twisted in a root and you let out a loud yelp as you went flying headfirst down the hill.  

“Oh, shit!” You could hear them laughing behind you as you rolled down the hill, your ribs and elbows busting against random rocks and roots. You hissed in pain when you finally came to a stop, already feeling a dozen different scrapes all along your body. 

You went to sit up but your hand sank into something soft and gooey, and oh god you were going to lose your lunch. 

You actually did throw up in your mouth, swallowing it with a burn as you scrambled desperately to get out of whatever putrid pit you were stuck in. You glanced around, finally coming across the source of the smell, dozens of carcasses surrounded you. Some of them so rotted you couldn’t even tell what animal it was anymore. 

You screamed as your hand finally found purchase on something. You glanced down at the hand wrapped around your own and shot up, your feet slipping and sliding against the gore. Two hands wrapped around your biceps and helped you, finally. 

You grasped onto the arms of whoever had you and practically leapt onto them in your attempt to escape. They pulled you away from the pit and you let out a shuddering sigh. “Thank you.”

You glanced up, finally getting to see the face of your savior. He had yellowed teeth, a sweat stained tank top on, and a very adorable smile as he patted your shoulder and backed off. “You alright?”

You let out a strained, “mhm,” as you attempted to catch your breath and not vomit on his feet. “There-“ you covered your mouth as bile rose up. You pointed towards the pit, taking in a deep breath, “Hand. Human hand.”

The man titled his head in confusion before walking over to the pit and digging around where you just were. You winced at the sound of squelching before he managed to reveal the hand once more. You jumped as he grabbed onto it, he laughed as he tugged at it until there was a loud pop and the hand came loose. 

“Anyone need a hand?”

Your friends, who had been standing at the top of the pit watching you struggle, stared at him with varying expressions of disgust. You let out an awkward laugh, relieved it had only been a mannequin and nothing worse. 

He turned around at the sound of your laughter and gave you another goofy smile. “Thank god,” you breathed. 

He came back towards you, completely unbothered by the death around him. “Sorry ‘bout your clothes.”

You glanced down at your shirt and grimaced, it was completely covered in brown blood and old bits of roadkill. “Not your fault.” You glanced towards the back of his truck, seeing old blood in the bed of it and realizing this is where he dumped the animals people hit on the highway. 

“Hey!” You both jumped at the booming voice and looked over to see Owen hopping awkwardly down the hill, skirting the dead bodies, and coming to stand next to you. The others hovered further behind. “You know where Ambrose is?”

The man ignored him, glancing at you. “That where you were heading?” You nodded and he scoffed, “Woulda been walking a long way. ‘Bout fifteen miles up the road.”

You elbowed Owen in the side and glared at him, “You said it was close!”

He rubbed his side and shrugged, “I don’t know, guess the walk was longer than I thought.” He evaded making any eye contact and stared at his shoes. You rolled your eyes, what an asshole. 

“I could give you a ride.”

You blanched at the man's suggestion, he seemed nice enough, but you really weren’t eager to get into a stranger’s truck. “No need, we’ll just take Owen’s truck.”

He shrugged, “Alright. But good luck getting in, there’s only one way to town and it’s not on any map.”

You let out a deep sigh, this day is just getting better and better. “We won’t be bothering you?” He shook his head and walked towards his truck, opening up the passenger door for you. 

You gave him a tense smile before digging your fingers into Owen’s arm and dragging him behind you. “You’re coming with me, don’t bother arguing.”

“Owen?” Allison shouted after him. 

The man answered before Owen could, “I’ll come back for y’all. Don’t you worry!” Something about the smile he shot at them, it was different than the one he’d directed towards you, there was something swimming between his yellowed teeth and honeyed smile. His eyes glittered with malicious intent and you shivered when he looked back at you. 

You didn’t really have another choice, you’d have to follow him. He, apparently, was the only one who could get you into town. You forced a kind smile on your face and thanked him as he helped you up in the truck. “I hope I don’t stink up your seats too bad,” you added as he rounded the front. 

You’d realized you’d spoken too soon when you actually got a chance to smell the interior of his truck. You clutched the seat as your eyes bulged out. Somehow, the inside was worse than the pit outside. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he hopped in the truck. You heard Owen groan under his breath beside you as he slammed the truck door close. 

“Shit,” he hissed, clutching his stomach and trying not to make a big deal about how fucking awful the truck smelled and felt. 

“I’m Lester,” the man told you, offering a hand for you to shake. You paused on holding your breath to tell him your and Owen’s names. “You’ll want to find Bo when we get into town. He’s the mechanic, he’ll be able to fix you up.”

You clutched the edge of the seat for the rest of the ride, trying to remain polite as you made small talk with Lester, but you could only hold your breath for so long. He seemed to pick up on your discomfort and rolled the windows down, “AC don’t work no more.”

“Maybe Bo could fix it.”

He glanced up at you, eyes lighting up like he’d never thought of that before. “Yeah! Maybe he could!” He let out a goofy laugh, slapping his thigh and smiling at you. “I ain’t never thought of that before.”

You let out a weak chuckle, the reaction was pretty extreme for something as simple as suggesting you got to a mechanic for car problems. Owen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Fuckin’ Christ.” He muttered, glancing at Lester out of the corner of his eye and shaking his head. 

You elbowed him again, ignoring his noise of pain and silently threatening him to shut up. You understood that Lester might stink and have strange reactions, but Christ, he was giving you both a ride fifteen miles out of his way. He could be a little more appreciative. 

“Alright,” the truck slowly rumbled to a stop. “We’re here.”

You glanced at Lester and then the clear lack of town through the windshield. “Um, what?”

He chuckled slightly, “It’s around the bend. Truck can’t go over that, though.” You followed the direction of his gaze and lifted yourself from the seat to see a little creek and a broken bridge. “Go ahead and I’ll go back for your friends.”

Owen opened the door, practically flying out of the truck. He took in deep and dramatic inhales as the stifling Louisiana air hit him in the face. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back towards Lester, “Thank you so much for the help.”

He gave you a strange look, not quite mean but not very friendly, “Don’t thank me yet.” You had barely closed the door before he was peeling off. 

You turned towards Owen but he just shrugged, “I don’t know man, I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

You nodded, turning towards the creek, “Agreed.”

You were thankful you’d chosen a black tank top, the sun was beating directly down on you and you were pretty sure you had already sweat through every layer you had on. You were desperate for a hair clip or rubber band or literally anything to get your hair off your neck. Another minute sweating like this and you were just going to chop it all off. 

“Hey, up there.”

“Finally!” You and Owen both sped up, rushing towards the auto shop, eager to get somewhere with air conditioning. But when Owen tried the door it wouldn’t budge, he pulled and pushed, wiggled it way too many times and you snapped. “It’s locked, dipshit!”

“Think I don’t know that?” He snapped back. 

You crossed your arms and glared at him, “Then let it go and give up.” He let out a pissy sigh and whirled around, canvassing the rest of town. His eyes landed on the small chapel and he nudged you, pointing at it.

“Maybe there’s someone in there.”

You followed hesitantly after him as he walked towards it. The closer you got the louder the voices inside were. “Wait, Owen, I think there’s a service going on. We shouldn’t just barge in.”

He rolled his eyes and ignored you, throwing the door open without care and glaring inside. You shriveled up in embarrassment when you saw a man kneeling at the front of the chapel. You dared a step closer and winced, he was kneeling in front of a coffin. 

God, you guys looked like such assholes. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, grabbing Owen by the collar of his shirt and yanking him back outside. You shoved him down the steps and he stumbled, glaring at you. 

“Y/N, what the hell?”

“It was a funeral service you jackass!” You hissed back at him, unwilling to raise your voice and further disrupt those poor people’s mourning. You were halfway across the street when you heard the door behind you open. 

You tensed up, mentally preparing yourself to face whoever had decided to scold you both. “Can I help you folks?” You turned at the sound of a smooth southern accent and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Well, more heat, you were about as hot as you could get right now. 

But the man in front of you seemed perfectly comfortable in his all black suit, glaring down at you both from the top of the stairs. You were a little ashamed how attracted to him you were. He was mourning, attending the funeral of someone who was probably close to him and you were drooling over how good he looked in a suit. 

To be fair, he did look very nice in a suit. 

“I am so sorry, sir, I tried to stop him.”

Owen nudged you slightly, “Shut up, Y/N.” You glared at him but he just crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the man in front of you. “We’re looking for Bo. You seen him?”

The man’s voice was full of anger as he sneered at Owen, “You’re talkin’ to him.”

Owen glanced back at you, a mean look on his face. “Her car broke down, can you fix it?”

Bo scoffed, staring down at Owen with a disgusted expression. You knew what he was thinking, how demanding and dickish Owen was. Especially when he knew what Bo had been doing only moments before. You intervened before Owen could dig a deeper hole. 

“Don’t worry about it, sir. I’m really sorry we interrupted you.”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up before I make you,” you leveled Owen with a glare. You let the group get away with a lot, talking shit to you and about you constantly. You didn’t really care enough to stop them, but you weren’t about to let him continue to disrespect the only person who could actually help you out of this hellhole. 

Owen seemed to get the message and scoffed, walking off with an attitude. Though, he didn’t have anywhere to go considering pretty much every business was closed. So he stood in the street, kicking at gravel like a toddler. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Bo, a little surprised to find him already staring down at you. 

You couldn’t decipher the look he was giving you, but it didn’t make you feel very comfortable. Though, that could just be the anxiety from your rude companion. “Sorry, again.”

You turned around, ready to walk back to the others, when he stopped you. “I’ll help you!” 

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, “Give me a little while to finish up here and I’ll meet you at the shop.”

You nodded, a smile slowly rising on your lips. Maybe this day wasn’t completely lost. “Of course, take your time, thank you so much, seriously.”

He nodded, still looking unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Uh, you could check out the House of Wax, might make the time pass quicker.”

You nodded again but he didn’t bother waiting for a response, already heading back inside the church. He left just in time for the rest of the group to come walking up the street. Owen ran towards them, leaving you behind. You noticed a clear lack of Gwen or Damien and figured they’d stayed behind with the cars or something. 

You caught up with them just as Owen finished filling them in on what was going on. “So we have to wait?” Sarah whined, practically stomping her feet. 

“Yes, because he’s currently burying someone,” you deadpanned. You glanced towards the building towering over the town on top of a hill. “But we can always check out the House of Wax.”

”Yippee,” Allison mumbled sarcastically. 

You broke off quickly from the rest of the group, immediately embarrassed by how they behaved in the museum. Owen had started off strong, catcalling one of the wax women and groping her. You wandered towards the back of the building, a figure of a dog catching your attention. You hadn’t seen any other animals in here. 

Wow, its fur looked so realistic. 

You knelt down, getting closer, and shot back in fear as it barked at you. You let out a loud yelp as you landed on your ass, watching the very real dog growl at you. 

“Holy shit, did not think you were real.” You held up your hands in surrender, “Good girl, it’s okay.” After a minute she stopped growling and slowly moved towards you. You smiled as you pet her, running your fingers through her fur and laughing when she licked your hands. ”Aren’t you sweet?”

You heard a creak in the doorway behind her and your head shot up. A man loomed over you, a wax mask over his face and long black locks hanging over his shoulders. “Hi,” you whispered, completely thrown off by his appearance. 

“Do you work here?”

Nothing. 

He had to, if the mask was anything to go by, maybe it was like some outfit they made the employees wear. You glanced down at his hands, you could see wax covering them and sculpting tools in the belt slung around his hip. “Oh, are you an artist?” You asked, tone a little more excited. 

He tilted his head, and you felt your heart speed up when he stepped closer. The dog left you, walking over to him with her tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. He reached down, not breaking his stare with you, and pet her lightly. 

You got to your feet, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was making you. Finally, he nodded. 

“Well,” you stuttered slightly over your words, tongue tied with anxiety. “They’re all amazing. I accidentally bumped into one and apologized because I thought it was real,” your words trailed off with an awkward chuckle. “I even thought your dog was real, she scared me half to death when she moved.”

God, kill me now, this had to be the most awkward one sided interaction you’ve ever had with someone. “D-,” you cleared your throat, trying to get your voice to stop cracking. “Did you do this?” You pointed to the scene behind you, a family eating dinner at a dusty wooden table.

He shook his head, slowly lumbering past you and lifting the woman’s hair. You took a hesitant step forward and peered at the back of her neck where he was pointing. 

TS was carved into the wax. “TS?” Your eyes narrowed before it finally clicked in your head. “Trudy Sinclair?” He nodded and you smiled. “Oh, yeah, I saw an article about her up front. She’s the woman that runs the museum, right?” Another nod. Maybe he was mute. Maybe he wasn’t some freaky serial killer that was about to use that scalpel in his belt to slit your throat. 

Please just be extremely socially awkward. 

“Whole place is wax,” you dumbly pointed out, because clearly he knew that. “Pretty impressive.” He straightened up, moving the woman’s hair back in place and carefully brushing it out with his fingers. The care in which he treated the mannequin was a little off putting, he was acting like she was living and breathing, something to be coddled. “Um,” you stopped staring at his hands, focusing once again on his waxed face. “What’s your name?”

He took a step forward, then another and another until he was standing right in front of you, sharing the air you breathed. You couldn’t help but gulp, feet glued to the floor as the dark holes in his mask burned into you. In your peripheral you watched as his arm stretched out and winced slightly, prepared for a hit or stab or something. 

But it just hovered in the air, after a moment you realized he was pointing at something. You turned around and found a signature scrawled into another wax figure. 

Vincent

“Vincent,” you let out a sigh of relief and held out a hand, giving him your own name. After a moment he took your hand, grip tight to the point that it hurt. But he didn’t shake it like you’d expected, instead he moved his hand up your arm, digging his fingers into your forearm and dragging you back to the front door. You whimpered when he opened the door and threw you outside. 

You clutched your forearm to your chest, rubbing the forming bruises as the door slammed in your face. “Well, fuck you too then,” you muttered under your breath. You turned around glancing down the street and seeing Allison and Owen already walking towards the auto shop. You bound down the steps and run after them, panting when you finally catch up. 

“Where’s Sarah and Dean?”

Allison snorted, “Said they found a bed upstairs.” She glanced at you, “I think you can put two and two together.”

Your nose wrinkled and you groaned, “That’s disgusting. The guy that runs the place is literally in there.”

“Don’t be a prude,” Owen admonished. “They’re just screwing around.”

You glanced back at the House of Wax, seeing a figure moving in the window of the upper floor and shook your head. Jackasses. 

Bo was waiting for you all at the door of the auto shop. He was still in his black suit, except this time he had an easygoing grin on his face. A complete 180 from the man who looked ready to rip Owen’s dick off for interrupting a funeral. 

He gave you a particularly large smile as you approached, holding the door open for you as you entered the shop. You didn’t get the relief you were hoping for, the air in here almost as stifling as it was outside. It was maybe two degrees cooler. Whatever, you’d take what you could get on such a shitty day. 

“You know what the problem is with your car, sweetheart?” 

It took an awkward moment of silence to realize he was talking to you. When you looked up from the floor you saw his gaze drilling into yours, not missing the way his eyes flitted down to your low cut top and then back up. You couldn’t really blame him, you’d been eyeing him since he introduced himself. 

“Um,” you glanced towards Owen. “What did Dean say it was?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, an unsure look on his face. “Something about a hose.”

Bo nodded, sucking on his teeth before he went to the back of his shop. You rocked back and forth on your heels, ignoring the other two who were wandering around his shop and whispering to themselves. “Hey, honey, you mind comin’ back here a minute?”

You peered around the doorway and saw Bo bent over rummaging around in some boxes. “Me?”

He looked over his shoulder and chuckled, “Who else?”

You were about to step forward when you heard Allison hiss your name. You turned around and she pulled her top down mouthing ‘maybe he’ll give you a discount,’ pointing to your own shirt and laughing. You crossed your arms reflexively, covering your breasts from her view and tugging your shirt higher up to be petty. She rolled her eyes, clearly called you a prude, and turned back around. 

You really needed new friends. 

You walked into the back of Bo’s shop, taking in the different tools and boxes along the walls. “What’s up?”

“Any of these look right?”

You glanced down at the hoses he had laid out, the blood draining from your face when you realized you did not know anything about your car. You really hadn’t even known a hose was a thing until today. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Well,” he started, losing some patience as his tone took a curt edge. Your stomach toiled with anxiety, not liking the idea of him getting pissed at you. “You know what size ya need?” 

You cleared your throat, “Owen!” You called out the door, you heard a grumbled what in response. “You know what size I need?”

“Two and a half!”

You missed Bo sliding a hose under his work table as you turned back around, scanning the tags and frowning when you saw he didn’t have the right size. “There’s a two, would that work?” You asked, picking the hose up and holding it out to him. 

His tongue poked into his cheek and he shook his head, “‘Fraid not, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you placed the hose back down and rubbed your face, wincing as you remembered you were still covered in innards. “Ugh, gross,” you pulled your hands away from your face and could already feel streaks of blood on your cheeks. 

Bo chuckled and reached for a clean rag off his work table. He gave you a charming smile and wiped the blood off your face. You tried not to let yourself be too affected by how close he was, but it was hard, really, really, hard. So, as you always do in situations you don’t know how to handle, you blabber. 

“House of Wax was really cool,” you mumble.

“Hm,” he hums, not interested at all as his gaze darts down to your lips. 

“Yeah, the guy, Vincent, I don’t think he liked me very much,” you let out a barely audible laugh, remembering his harsh treatment as he tossed you out. 

Bo froze, his eyelids dropping slightly as the tender look on his face melted away, replaced by something you didn’t understand. Or didn’t want to understand. The hair on the back of your neck was standing up as goosebumps traveled along your arms. You weren’t cold, not in the slightest, this felt like something else. Like an instinctual response to a predator. 

You backed away a step, no longer feeling comfortable being so close to him. “What’d you say?” His voice was low, so low you could almost mistake it for a growl. 

“Um,” you swallowed harshly, throat parched and lips completely dried by the humidity. “Vincent,” you didn’t like how small your voice was. Didn’t like how quickly the atmosphere had shifted from something charged to something dangerous. “He- he showed me some wax sculptures and then he tossed me out.”

“You saw Vincent?” You nodded, backing a step further when he approached you. He noticed and let out a low laugh, the grin returning, but there were entirely too many teeth. “You say anything? ‘Bout his mask? How quiet he was?” He probed, his tone almost teasing like he wanted you to say Yeah, called him a freak and laughed at him. Like he wanted to use your response as an excuse for something. 

You shook your head quickly, “No. No, of course not,” you were quick to defend yourself, trying to sound as sincere as possible. You didn’t want him to think you were as rude as your traveling companions. “I thought maybe all the museum workers had to wear those. Like a theme or something. And,” you stumbled slightly over your words as he moved towards you again. You stepped back towards the doorway, trying to get back in the view of the others. “And I can be pretty quiet myself, I didn’t think it would be kind to pry.”

He finally stopped, but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. You still could feel your heart pounding against your chest, going so fast you felt a little dizzy. You weren’t an idiot, you knew how risky it was approaching so many strange men in one day. But you had been trapped, like a mouse dropped in a maze, constantly searching for a way out. 

You’d had no choice but to accept help from all the people you’d interacted with in this town, but you didn’t forget how much danger they could pose to you and your friends. You were all too aware of how stupid it was to be in a room with this stranger. 

This stranger who switched between masks so fast you got whiplash. Just as quickly as it had disappeared, his smile was back, still just as handsome, but no longer disarming. He shrugged, “Vincent doesn’t show himself to anyone, really. Just a little curious, that’s all. And that mask is all him, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you forced a smile, moving out of the way so he could walk back into the main part of the shop. 

He clapped his hands together, getting the attention of the others. “Sorry folks but I don’t got the parts you need here.”

Allison and Owen both let out loud groans, their voices blending together in anger as they harassed Bo for not having the one car part they needed. You winced as they yelled at him, demanding to know how he even called himself a mechanic if he didn’t have one simple part. You could see Bo’s patience leaving him again, jaw clenching and teeth grinding together. 

“Shut up!” You shouted, glaring at them from behind Bo. “Jesus, act your fucking ages,” you muttered, storming past Bo and going to stand near them. You didn’t bother looking at any of them, despite the stares you could feel boring into you. 

“Thank you,” Bo mumbled before his voice rose again. “As I was sayin’ I got some parts up at my house. Only about a ten minute walk, you could use the bathroom, clean up, I’ll see if I have what you need.”

Allison and Owen shared a look before turning towards you, the both of them huddling around you. “I don’t want to go anywhere near that freak’s house. He’s probably got some redneck sex dungeon.”

“Allison,” you admonished, looking over her shoulder to make sure Bo hadn’t heard. He seemed preoccupied with something under his desk. “Shut up, he’s being nice and putting up with our shit. I mean, he just buried someone guys, and he’s still trying to help. Least you could do is be respectful.”

Allison huffed and sighed and rolled her eyes before finally nodding, “Fine. But I’m using you as a human shield if shit goes south.”

“Fine by me,” you muttered, pushing away from them both and smiling at Bo. “If you don’t mind, we’d love to go.”

He nodded, smiling at you before walking to the door. He opened it but he didn’t leave until he threw over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, if I was taking anyone to my dungeon it’d be this one.” You squeaked as he pinched your waist and walked out. 

Allison scoffed, like she was offended, and followed after him. 

“So,” Bo started, slowing down so you could catch up to him. You sped up slightly, matching his stride and giving him a small smile as he stared at you. “What’re you doin’ with these jackasses?”

You couldn’t stop a snort from slipping out at his blunt language. You glanced behind you, watching Allison and Owen bicker about something and turned back towards him, shrugging. “I don’t know, they needed my car and I wanted to get out of the house, I guess.”

“Well, how long you been friends?”

“Not long, I met Allison a year ago and I guess I just started hanging around them.”

“You don’t seem to get along real well.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, a fact in his eyes that you didn’t belong with them. And he was probably right, you hated them, they hated you. 

“Only reason I’ve stuck around this long is ‘cause I don’t have anyone else.”

You didn’t notice how he perked up, how quickly he tuned into the loneliness in your words and pounced. You should have, for someone so perceptive and paranoid, but you were too busy grimacing at a chunk of dead something in your shorts pocket. 

“No one? No family? No other friends? No one to notice-” He cut himself off, once again sending you a smile, though this one seemed more sympathetic than anything. Like he knew your pain and could relate to it. 

“Yeah, no one.”

“Hm,” he offered nothing else. Just another hum and a nod as you approached the house at the top of the incline. He walked up to the front door, unlocking it, and turning around to survey you all. “Anyone need the can?”

Owen stepped forward, Allison clinging to his arm with a paranoid look on her face, eyes darting all around the perimeter of the house. Bo glanced behind them at you, “Sweetheart?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” He might be charming but there was no way in hell you were just gonna wander in blind to his house. 

“You sure? I could give you a change of clothes.”

Before you could figure out a polite way to decline again, Allison had grabbed onto the strap of your tank top and was dragging you up the porch. “Please, fuck, I can’t stand the smell anymore.”

You ripped your arm out of her grasp, jumping as the door slammed closed behind you. For a moment the house stayed dark, no light and no noise other than the sound of your breathing. Then you heard a click and light shone down on a cluttered living room and outdated kitchen. 

“Sorry, haven’t had time for the maid,” Bo muttered sarcastically. He turned towards you, motioning you forward and, reluctantly, you followed. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.” Owen nodded, heading down the hallway while Allison stayed planted by the door. 

“I’ll show you my room and you can get changed.”

”Thanks,” you followed him wearily up the stairs, jumping every time the old wood creaked. “I really appreciate this, I know we’ve bugged you a lot today.”

”Yeah, you have.” You frowned, taken aback by how honest he sounded. In your defense, he had offered up his house to you guys. He turned around and must’ve seen the disgruntled look on your face because another grin broke out and he laughed, “I’m messin’ with ya. Relax, it’s no trouble at all for such a pretty lady.”

He opened up the door at the top of the stairs and stepped inside. You heard him moving around, drawers opening and slamming shut before he emerged again a pile of unfolded clothes in his hand. “Here, you can use the room to change.”

You nodded and stepped inside, quick to lock the door behind you. You waited until you heard his footsteps going back down the stairs to strip out of your clothes and change. You moved as quickly as you possibly could, a little paranoid that he had cameras in his room or something, watching you. 

You weren’t sure what had changed. Maybe it was Allison’s insistence that he actually had a sex dungeon, or that you were in a stranger’s room, but you felt scared. You felt watched and uncomfortable and like you wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, put Ambrose in your rear view and never look back. 

You held up the shirt Bo had left you and frowned. It was big, much bigger than he was. This didn’t seem like something he would own, the fitting all wrong, this seemed like something that belonged somewhere else. To someone else. 

You stared at it a moment longer before shaking the thought away and pulling the button up over your arms. As you worked on the last button you realized he hadn’t left you with any pants. Hopefully just a simple oversight on his part. It went down to your thighs, so it’s not like you were completely exposed. You’d just pretend you were wearing a dress. 

Your eyes scanned the room, you would go through his drawers and look for some pants but it didn’t feel right to dig around in his stuff. The room itself was a clusterfuck of boxes of clothes and sprawled sheets. You jumped around a box full of men’s clothing and frowned at the labels on the box. Each box had different sizes and different dates. 

Your heart beat just a little bit faster when you spotted women’s clothes shoved under his bed.

There could be plenty of explanations. 

He swung every which way and this was all clothing from his conquests. 

He liked to dabble in drag. 

He was collecting clothes for the homeless. 

You went with the last one, despite the fact that it didn’t make you feel any better. You walked into his bathroom, smiling when you saw a hair clip on the sink. You picked it up, hoping it wasn’t someone’s favorite and that they wouldn’t mind you borrowing it for a bit. 

Just as you were about to clip up your hair you noticed a smudge of red on the corner. The claw itself was completely white, the red was pretty hard to miss. You frowned, bringing it closer to your face and running your fingers over the color. 

It flaked off under your thumb, the copper falling into the sink. 

There were only so many things you could ignore. 

A blood covered claw was not one of them. 

You rinsed it off in the sink, shoving your hair up and running towards the bedroom door. You didn’t bother collecting your clothes, there was no saving them and you had bigger things to fuss about. Mainly the fact that Allison was right. 

This dude definitely had a fucking sex dungeon. 

You forced yourself to slow down when you reached the top of the stairs. You peered over the railing, listening for any noises or creeping shadows. It was almost worse when you didn’t hear anything. Allison should be at the door, bitching about how long it takes Owen to pee. Bo should be walking around somewhere. 

Instead, the house was still, you barely even heard your own breath over your racing heart. You were careful as you made your way down the stairs, avoiding the boards you know creaked and lightly making your way towards the front door. 

“Allison?” You whispered, looking around the den or kitchen for her. 

Nothing.

You hesitated, wondering if you should look for her or make a run for it. You heard footsteps getting closer to the door and made your choice, grabbing the keys off the tray nearby and racing through the doorway. 

“Y/N?”

You turned around as you reached Bo’s red truck, looking just in time to see a knife split through Allison’s jaw. You couldn’t even scream, the noise locked away in the deepest part of yourself as you struggled to process what was happening. 

The blade stuck out grotesquely between her teeth, her eyes remained blinking, that was the worst part. They blinked, tears pouring down her cheek before the man behind her was shoving her forward and her body was toppling to the ground limply. You jumped at the thud, eyes wide and burning with your own tears as you looked into the dark holes of Vincent’s mask. 

“Vincent?” You whispered, the only thing you could actually manage to get out. His head tilted and he stepped over Allison’s body like she wasn’t even there. Your hands shook, the keys slipping out and landing in the dirt under your shoes. He was about ten feet away before your flight instincts finally kicked in 

“Fuck,” you whispered, abandoning the truck and taking off just as the knife he’d thrown landed in the dirt where you’d been standing only a second earlier. 

You used to run, it had been an easy form of therapy. A way to get out unresolved and pent up emotions that left you feeling stunted. You’d loved it, reveled in the burn in your thighs, the buzz that thrummed through your blood as you pushed yourself to your limits and then further. 

But you’d stopped, got caught up in a group of shitty friends and stopped taking care of yourself. Now, the once thrilling buzz was slowing you down. The muscles in your thighs unprepared and unused as you forced them to go faster. You felt like you were trying to run in a dream, your muscles working as hard as possible but you were stuck in a limbo, never moving fast enough. 

You could hear heavy boots pounding behind you and you tried to push through that limit that you felt locked around your legs. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t move faster and you already felt yourself slowing down. Your lungs heaving as your throat burned, struggling to take in any air. 

“AH!” You let out a strange sounding scream as something heavy and hard rammed into your back. It sent you flying, knees scraping against pavement as you were pancaked to the road. 

“There ya are, darlin’! You don’t know how bad my feelings were hurt when I saw you’d run off.” You whimpered as Bo pinned your arms behind your back, his knees digging into your spine until you both heard it crack and you cried out in pain. 

“Bo, please,” you begged. “Please.”

He chuckled, leaning down until his mouth was next to your ear. “Please, what, darlin?”

”Please fuck off,” you growled throwing your head back and listening to Bo’s nose snap. You used the distraction to wrestle your way out from under him, rolling onto him, legs straddling his waist as you grabbed a nearby rock and brought it down.

His hand shot up and gripped your wrist, squeezing until you couldn’t feel your fingers and were forced to let go of the rock. “Fuckin’ bitch.”

You slapped at him as he tried to sit up and pin you down. You didn’t care how rabid or unorganized you were. You clawed, screamed and kicked until you’d gained the upper hand and were jumping away from him. “Fuck you,” you hissed, glaring at him as you clutched at your hurt wrist. 

His nose was no longer pouring blood, instead it was a slow steady drip as he glared at you with what could only be described as an animalistic snarl. “Bitch,” he spat back. 

“That the best you got?” You taunted, “You’re the backwoods freak who's killing off college kids. Lemme guess, Vincent’s your brother, he wears that mask because mommy and daddy were actually Uncle-Dad and Aunt-mom? Your weird little incest freak didn’t want to let mommy’s dream die? I bet one of you fuckin’ killed her, too.”

”Shut the fuck up!” He shouted, lunging for you. You darted off to the side, leaping over a wooden picket fence and through the yards of the silent neighborhood. The sky was turning pink, your favorite time of day, right before night finally fell. 

But you didn’t have time to enjoy it, crying as you ran away from the feral man behind you. You could hear him breathing, stomping his way behind you, it was like being chased by a wild animal, not a man. Maybe that’s what was terrifying you so bad, humans were predictable. You knew what type of torture to expect from them, the cruelties they were capable of. But a man like this, a beast like this, you had no idea what he would do to you. 

Tear you apart right here in the street?

Take you back to his home and keep you until better prey came along?

You didn’t want to find out. And you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of your death. 

You had been screaming as he attacked you, shouting as you ran from him. Not once did a light click on or off as you ran through the neighborhood. No curtains drew back or faces pressed against the window pane in curiosity. 

You knew you were alone, the rest of your friends were most likely dead. 

You gasped, losing your breath, as you slammed into something hard. “Y/N? What the fuck?” You whined in pain, looking up to see Owen standing over you. He kneeled down, like he was going to help you up, until you heard the sound of laughter behind you. 

“Got you,” Bo taunted. And you knew he was talking about you, he didn’t give a shit about Owen, he just wanted you. 

“Owen, please,” you whispered, begging him to, just this once, help you. Be a decent guy, make the right choice. You should have known better. Just as you’d gotten to your feet, two strong hands had gripped your shoulders and sent you flying. 

A different set of hands found their way around your waist, coiling around you like a python until their grip was so tight your face was turning purple from loss of air. “Told you, jackasses,” Bo whispered, the last thing you heard before you were blacking out. 

Nine Inch Nails. 

That’s what you could process when you woke up.

The next thing you felt as your eyelids slowly peeled open, a near painful process, was the jostling around your legs. You whined, your throat completely raw and glanced down. Bo was standing at the end of some sort of chair, similar to a gurney, and duct taping your legs down. He glanced up, hair plastered with sweat and grinned at you. He had changed, you hadn’t noticed before but he’d ditched the suit for his coveralls. 

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and glancing towards the ceiling as you blinked back tears. 

You were going to die and the last thing you were going to hear was the blasting of Closer by Nine Inch Nails. 

Fuck my life

Bo moved up, holding your wrists down on the metal armrests and duct taping those too. You looked to the side, and saw strange circular markings on his wrist. You assumed, whenever they disposed of your body and took the tape off, you would have matching scars. 

You heard footsteps clomping above you and the sound of Damien and Gwen’s voices. “Where did they all go?”

“I don’t know, maybe they’re in the auto shop.”

Gwen sounded unsure, “Maybe, it is the only place that’s open.”

Bo ran behind you, his warm hand clamping over your mouth and keeping it shut as they passed the grate above you. You hadn’t even tried to open your mouth to scream for help, you knew you couldn’t, your throat was destroyed already. 

“I’m gonna take my hand off and you’re gonna be quiet. Yeah?” You nodded your head, feeling the salty warmth of your tears trailing down his hand and building up on your cheeks. “Yeah,” he whispered, the tone too intimate as he slowly released you. 

He remained beside you, poised and ready to strike but you didn’t make a move to call out. “Good girl,” he chuckled and placed a hand over yours. “I’m gonna go up, deal with those assholes, and you’re gonna behave. Right?”

You nodded again and he dug blunt fingernails into tender skin. You whimpered out, “Yes, Bo.”

He laughed again and walked towards the door, keys clinking as he locked it behind himself. “Fucking sicko,” you spat the second the door was closed. You moved your legs, wincing as the tape picked at your bare skin. 

“Oh, fuck it,” you were sweaty enough, the moisture on your skin providing enough glide for you to wiggle one leg out of the tape. Arrogant bastard had given you too much freedom, he probably didn’t even think you were going to run. 

Now, your wrists. 

Your arms were sweaty, sure, but these were tight. You tried to use a jerking motion you’d once seen in a stupid action movie, bringing your wrists to your chest. But your muscles were fatigued and you didn’t have enough strength to rip the tape off. 

You flopped against the flattened cushion of the chair, trying not to sob incoherently as Bo’s rock music blared in the garage above. You could hear voices speaking. You didn't know how much time you had left until Bo just got rid of them and came back down for you. 

You’d been pointedly ignoring the wall of Polaroids since you’d woken up, not wanting to see what they were. Afraid you already knew. 

You ignored the unnatural bend of your shoulder, how much it screamed out in pain as you contorted your body over your right wrist, teeth picking at the duct tape until you felt like they were coming loose. But you didn’t stop, you kept going until you felt the slightest tear under your lips. 

You had to stop yourself from crying out in victory as you used whatever remained of your strength to jerk at the tape again and again, your muscles crying as you finally ripped yourself free. You stuffed down your cries, using your free hand to unwrap the other. 

You allowed yourself a moment to roll out your wrists and shake off your legs before you were shooting off the gurney and stumbling towards a corner of the room. Your legs felt like jelly, and you knew that wasn’t good, but you pushed past the fear as footsteps stomped down the stairs. 

Your heart rate picked up and your throat clenched as you pushed sweat-matted hair out of your face. You took in a deep breath and then held it as the door slammed open. You winced, grateful you hadn’t chosen to hide behind that. Bo stepped into the room, there was a blind spot of about five seconds before he would see you were out of your chair. 

You needed to use that to slip behind him and out the door. 

You heard one boot enter. Then the next. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears, adrenaline making your muscles tingle back to life. 

Another step, you inched forward, another, you slid against the wall. Bo finally made it all the way in. “What the fuck!”

You shot behind him, racing up the steps and bursting through the door of the garage. You didn’t give yourself time to celebrate or look to see if he was following you. You darted down the street, suddenly grateful Bo had only given you a shirt to wear. 

You were sure it was for his own pleasure, but right now all it meant was that your legs weren’t constricted by tight denim and you could run as fast as your body would allow. You turned to the right, bursting through the doors of the chapel. 

You froze at the entrance, taking in a deep heaving breath as you tried to find a hiding spot. The pews were too noticeable, the casket probably wouldn’t fit you. You nearly cried as you tried to figure it out. 

Outside you heard Bo stomping, his voice calling out your name. Fuck it, you dove for the priest, using his large robes and throwing yourself under them. You had just managed to clamp a sweaty palm over your mouth as the doors of the church opened, deceptively quiet. 

Bo’s footsteps were soft as he walked through. You feel dizzy sitting under this preserved priest, the air stifling and you felt like you were running out of oxygen. Sweat beaded at your hairline, dripping down into your eyes as you tried to blink it away. 

You jumped, nails digging into your palm, at the sound of wood crashing against the wall. “Get out here!” He roared, and you knew he was slowly making his way through the pews. He tossed each of them around, checking under and around them for you. 

You ducked down, lifting the robe a centimeter off the floor. If you closed your eyes, put your hand over your ears, you were a little girl again, hiding under the table as your mother counted down. She’d find you soon, you’d giggle and she’d pretend she didn’t hear it before popping under the table cloth and catching you. 

Her fingers digging into your sides, searching for that ticklish spot. No, she’s poking too hard, that hurts. 

Shit, that hurts. 

You kick out, your shoe catching Bo’s jaw as you make a run for it, darting out from the priest and back through the chapel doors. The only thing you can focus on are the bright lights, blinding against the night sky- when did it get dark?

You stumbled over your feet, legs not moving the way you wanted them to. Shit, you don’t feel good. Did he drug you? Is it the heat? You haven’t eaten all day, or drank anything. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. 

Through blurry eyes you ran towards the movie theater, the brightest beacon you can actually make out. You trip through the doors, slamming them closed behind you. You spot one of those metal poles, the old one with red cloth they used to keep people in line. With limp arms and struggling steps you lift it up and slam it through the handles, just as Bo starts to shake them on the other side. 

You back away from them slowly, eyes scanning the lobby for anything you could use. Behind the concession desk you manage to spot something. 

BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY

You’d say this constituted an emergency. You kicked through the glass, ignoring how it dragged along your legs, and pulled the ax out of its case. There had to be a back door out of here. 

Your eyes widened and you cursed, there had to be a back way out of here, and Bo would know it. You threw the ax on the ground, ripping the pole out of the handles before scooping the ax back up and running back into the dark.

Apparently you’d made the right choice because Bo was no longer where you left him. He was probably sneaking through some secret exit waiting to grab you. You looked towards the end of the street, up the hill, and back at Bo’s front door.

There was still light shining through, but you were sure Allison’s body was long gone. You glanced behind you before taking in a deep centering breath and shooting off again. 

You held your breath, hiding underneath the table as Bo came stumbling into his home. You could see him clutching a wound on his arm and Vincent materialized behind him. He reached for his brother but Bo jerked back, “Get, get, back!” He spoke like he was talking to some dog, “Fuckin’ freak.”

You winced as you watched them interact, Bo tossing shit at his brother and his brother ducking like he was used to it. Vincent walked over to a candle, heating a spoon over the flame and picking up a toaster. He used the metallic reflection to smooth over a dent in his mask and Bo came up, appearing on his shoulder like the worst kind of devil. 

“Momma would be proud of you.” Vincent’s movements paused at his suddenly tender brother’s voice. “I told you this would look better. The last two are gonna look great,” he assured, kindly, and you grimace in disgust. Should’ve known this was his idea. Your knuckles creaked around the handle of the ax and you debated just ending this now. 

Vincent turns towards his brother, spoon discarded, and signs something. You know enough about the language to recognize the hand movements when you see it, but you can’t understand it from your angle. 

“What girl?” Bo snarled, Vincent winced and signed something else. Bo snorted, “Her? What you gotta crush or somethin’?” Vincent shook his head quickly and Bo rolled his eyes, voice cruel. “What, one girl’s nice to you and you wanna break our rules? She’s dead when I’m done with her. That’s it.” Bo buried his finger in Vincent’s shoulder, shoving harshly. “Understood?” Vincent didn’t respond immediately and Bo shoved again. “Understood!” He shouted and Vincent finally nodded. 

You watched them move out of sight, followed their shoes out of the house and finally slinked out of your hiding spot. You’d seen where Vincent had emerged from earlier and retraced the steps, finding a hidden basement in their father’s office. You glanced behind you once before jumping down into the hole.

“Damien? Gwen? Fucking anybody?” You kept glancing behind you, ax ready as you creeped your way through Vincent’s tunnels. Finally, you started to see the warm glow of candles at the very end of the section you were in. 

Caution thrown to the wind, you made a run for it and burst into what looked like Vincent’s workshop. You looked around, not seeing anything of interest besides one torture chair. You’d slit your throat before they got you in that. 

You found his desk, sketches scattered around the edges. You took a peek and were surprised to find a partially done profile of your face. You glanced around, making sure you were safe, before picking the sketch up. 

You looked pretty, even half done, he might have been a little to generous with you. Made you too elegant, noble, untouchable. Flattering if he wasn’t going to try and kill you. You saw something scrawled at the very bottom and your heart clenched, She was nice.

Perhaps you were too tender-hearted, to feel any pity for these monsters. But you’d seen the news articles in their father’s office, what had happened to their family, the chair Bo was once strapped in. What they were was their mother’s final project, the legacy she left behind, one of pain and hatred. Each of them hating themselves for different reasons because of her. 

But you weren’t an idiot, you saw the was in the title of your drawing. You might have been kind, but he wasn’t planning on letting you live. Something rattled in the room to your right and you threw the drawing down, turning towards the door and carefully opening it. 

“Y/N!” Owen cried out, relief making itself clear on his face as he saw you. “Get me out of here.” You rushed forward, kneeling down and trying to undo the straps around his ankles. But your fingers weren’t working properly, they felt like they were swelling and burning and useless. You whined in frustration as you tried to get the metal through the hole. 

“Fuck!” Owen kicked out as much as he could and you jumped back. “Can you do anything right? Just get me out of here!” He screeched. 

You went momentarily blind with rage, anger boiling in your gut so quickly you nearly keeled over. “I’m trying to help you, you fucking dick! You left me behind to that psycho earlier and I’m still trying to help you!” You screamed at him, not paying attention to the raw feeling of your throat or the footsteps behind you. “Why don’t you ever just shut up!”

You weren’t aware the ax was still in your hands, or maybe you were, as you brought your arms down in frustration. It landed in his thigh, barely missing the femoral artery, and he screamed. That type of scream you only hear from squealing pigs right before their butchered. 

You didn’t think you enjoyed it.

Didn't want to enjoy it. 

But you dug the blade in. 

He’d made your life a living hell, he’d tried to get you killed earlier, and even when you’d ignored it and tried to save him he still yelled at you. Granted, it wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever said to you, but it was the worst thing he could say at that moment. You pressed on the handle, not realizing you were smiling as he squealed some more. 

You got a headache after a second, struggling to rip the blade back out before you were lifting it once more and bringing it down over his neck, the blood splattering your face, bleeding into your open eyes as you watch his head topple to the ground. 

“Holy shit,” you turned around and looked at Bo, the fight draining from your body. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” He glanced at the ax in your hands and smiled, this one looked real, the realest he could manage. “Gonna kill me too?”

You shrugged, tossing the ax at his feet. “You gonna kill me?”

He looked at you, really looked at you, standing there covered in your ‘friend’s’ blood and unknowingly smiling at the carnage. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered. 

Part two

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax (2005), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[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.”

[deansdelicate]

we might just get away with it

dean ambrose x fem!reader

word count: [4.7k]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing & sexual innuendos, in ring action (reader is a female superstar), overall two idiots being fluffy and in love <3

summary: the four times you and dean thought you were doing a good job at keeping your relationship under wraps + the one time you both ended up getting away with it.

The camera crew found themselves huddled in the narrow corridor of the arena, a likely place for them to be seeing as though The Authority loved to handle business backstage—but of course not without protection from the forces none other than The Shield.

The three men were already inside on their marks, probably talking amongst themselves with Steph and Hunter while you waited outside, preparing for your cue.

“We’re on in 30 seconds!” a stage hand announced, meticulously checking the stop watch and monitors, ensuring the cameras were in position and ready to roll once commercial break ended.

You bounced from foot to foot, getting yourself ready as time winded down. Glancing over at the crew who gave you a thumbs up, mouthing the final 10 seconds until the show was back on air.

“Action!”

Your fist came in contact with the door, pausing for a couple of seconds before hearing a voice say “come in” from the other side. The cameras followed as you twisted the handle, stepping into the ‘office’ and bringing the boys and bosses into the audience’s view.

The boys kept to themselves on the opposite end of the room, hardened gazes glued to their faces as they stared you down.

You rose your brows at the slightly, portraying your repulsion for the faction and their allegiance to the overbearing bosses. After a brief moment, you turned your attention to Stephanie and Hunter.

“Is there something we can do for you today?” Stephanie looked up from her laptop, shutting it with a sharp slap that made you flinch just a tad.

You shook it off, taking a deep breath before you spoke with the most confidence you could muster.

“I want a shot at the championship.”

Upon hearing your demand, Triple H even looked up from his own laptop, staring at you intently before turning to his wife. The two of them letting out strings of condescending laughter that had you furrowing your brows in annoyance.

“I love the confidence sweetheart, but I think you’ve forgotten how it works around here.” He smirked, bringing his clasped hands up to rest on the wooden desk.

“You can’t just barge into our office and demand a match for the title,” Steph started with a shake of her head.

“We’ve got bigger things to handle and maybe when you start acting like champion material then we can have a talk about a title opportunity.”

She wore that signature evil smirk, your jaw clenching as your rigid hands formed into fists at your sides.

“You bitc—”

Before you could swing, a set of hands wrapped around your waist and another grabbed your wrists, stopping them from crossing the distance to Steph’s cheek. You could feel them behind you, the three of them swarming in too close, making the already cramped room feel claustrophobic.

“Let’s not do anything rash, sweet thing.”

A voice spoke low, breath fanning down your neck sending shivers up your spine, leaving you frozen.

Yet you remained cool, your game face still on as Hunter stood up, shielding his shaken up wife.

“Get her out of here,” He demanded, pointing the boys to the door and scowling at you.

“I’m gonna get my match one way or another!”

You struggled and jerked in their holds, needing to be practically dragged across the room to where Roman held the door wide open.

Seth’s hold on your wrists retracted, pushing you out into the halls, but the pair of hands on your waist that belonged to none other than Dean Ambrose remained, not daring to let you go just yet.

His fingertips dug into the dough of your hips, curbing your fight and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Next time you pull some crap like that, we won’t be so nice.” He murmured lowly, the two of you boring right through each other.

You scoffed, tongue running across your teeth before tilting your head at him, not making any move to remove his hands from your skin.

“That so? What are you gonna do about it? Power bomb me through a table? C’mon…hit me.” You dared, jutting your chin out though he retract.

Seth and Roman let out guffaws not phased at all, and Dean joined them a few seconds later, shaking their heads at how you managed to be standing in their presence without facing retaliation.

“The Authority and The Shield stand for the same thing: Justice. And whoever defies justice, man or woman, will get what’s coming to them sooner or later.” Seth declared.

You shifted your eyes up to his, “You mean The Authority made The Shield their bitch and now they do their dirty work for them?” You snapped back harshly, watching their faces fall with rage.

Roman grunted something under his breath, shooing you off. “Run along, you don’t want problems with The Shield.”

Dean laughed, squeezing your hips again, though the cameras didn’t catch it, your eyes drifting to meet his.

“What’re you gonna do? Send a little boy toy to get your justice for you?” He mocked.

You rolled your eyes before a small smirk came onto your face. Your eyes looking down between you both an innuendo that all the fans in the building laughed and hooted at.

“Trust me, you and I both know the boys I like are far from little.”

You roughly shoved his arms off of you and walked out of view while the camera panned to the boys peering down your path.

“Cut!” The stage hand called out, already getting the crew out of the tiny space in order to head to the next segment.

You waited patiently off to the side, passing each of the crew members a smile and ‘thank you’ before you skipped back over to the office where the boys stuck around.

“You idiot!” You screeched, drawing a weak fist to Dean’s chest as he snickered and wrapped his arms around your back, drawing you into him.

“I couldn’t help myself,” He shrugged, placing a chaste peck onto your lips, letting you kiss him despite some more not caring about the obvious lipstick marks left behind.

“Off script? Really, you two?” Steph crept up from behind, letting out a laugh despite trying to be serious because even she and her husband were notorious for doing the same back in the day.

Roman shook his head, light heartedly at you two. “I really thought I missed a line in the script.” He admitted, while everyone shared a laugh.

“Is that even PG?” Seth speculated, knowing Vince would have their heads on platters because you and Dean couldn’t help yourselves with a little sexual repartee.

Hunter snorted shifting his palm side to side knowing at the very least it could get flagged with a warning from the network, but it would definitely serve some entertainment from the fans and social media.

“You know one day the fans are going to catch on that this is really a thing.” He gestured between you and Dean’s bodies, the two of you still clinging to each other closely.

You rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes that he returned just as passionately.

“We might just get away with it.”

Meet and greets were one of the more relaxing sides to the job and it was even better that you got to do it with your boyfriend sitting just a few chairs down.

Many fans, ranging of all ages took their time, greeting you with smiles, hugs, and funny stories, wishing you luck for a title match and you secretly knew was in the works.

A little girl approached you, her parents waving at you excitedly while they trailed behind her with a camera in hand making sure to document the moment their daughter got to meet her favorite wrestler. She sported your merch, alongside a title belt across her waist—the same one you were gunning after.

“You should’ve slapped Dean for not getting his hands off you!” she quipped instantly, hands on her hips, clearly disapproving of Dean’s behavior.

You bursted into a fit of laughter as did the other superstars around you, who high-fived the young gal, applauding her about the lesson Dean Ambrose needed to learn for messing with you. Being a baby face meant kids were especially protective of their favorites, and not wanting them to be tormented by ruthless heels.

“I really should have done that! I’ll remember for next time, okay?” You promised with a giggle, bending down to give her a warm hug.

She undid the belt around her waist, flipping it over so you could sign it. The two of you exchanging small talk before a familiar voice snuck in from behind you, prompting you both to shift your attention to the man himself.

“Hey! You planning on slapping me?” Dean declared, arms crossed over his chest defensively as Seth and Roman remained at his sides.

“Yeah! Don’t touch her again or else she’s going to slap you!”

The girl stood her ground, standing up straighter and glaring harshly at your boyfriend who played along, patting his cheek with a smirk.

“I don’t think she’d risk beating up a pretty face like mine,” he teased, looking over at you with a knowing smile that only you two could read into.

You grinned through the blush covering your cheeks, shaking your head, before pointing at the fan.

“I mean I couldn’t possibly ruin a pretty face like his, but maybe you could?” You suggested, watching as her jaw dropped.

“You mean I slap Dean?” She whispered in your ear, looking at you with hesitation.

You nodded assuringly, rubbing her shoulders like you were getting her pumped up for a fight.

“Yeah c’mon show him that no one messes with the future women’s champion.”

You hyped her up and soon all the superstars joined in chanting “slap him! slap him!”

Dean did his best to hold back a smile, getting down on his knees so that the girl could reach him. His arms spread wide, nodding and egging her on.

“You won’t hit me. Come on, I know you won’t—Oww!”

The slap was tame, even for a child, just a tap with a little force behind it. Instantly the girl cowered back, wrapping her arms around your frame hugging you closely as all the superstars and awaiting fans cheered her on for standing up for you.

“Way to go!” you praised, giving her a high-five and telling her how much she’d be a great wrestler in the future, maybe even the one to take the championship from you.

Eventually Dean slightly broke kayfabe, fist-bumping the girl and pinky promising that he wouldn’t put his hands on you again. All three men posed for a picture with her, frightened and panicky expressions on their faces as the girl held up a mighty fist.

She even got you and Dean to smile for a picture with her—and somehow no one noticed the dainty “D” initial that hung from the chain around your neck.

You sat in catering, joined by Naomi and Brie, the three of you catching up on life while tuning in to the match that played over the television. It was Seth versus Daniel, with Roman and Dean who got the chance to sit in on commentary for the night.

“I saw that interaction you and Dean had with that cute fan. You guys totally made her day.” Naomi grinned, noting how the little stunt you and Dean pulled was circulating around social media.

It was met with mostly positive lighthearted reactions that somehow didn’t revolve around the rumors that you were together in real life.

“Oh, she was adorable! I just wished she slapped Dean a little harder.” You shrieked, making the girls laugh thinking of how much fun this girl must have had.

Michael Cole’s voice drew your attention back to the TV.

“Dean last week you and the boys got into some stuff backstage with a certain female superstar. I suppose The Authority has you all on high alert after Steph nearly got attacked on your watch.”

The camera panned slightly to the commentators’ desk, where Dean’s fingertips tapped against his collarbones, seemingly forgetting the match in front of him at the mention of you.

“We’re used to threats of all kinds, but usually they aren’t this pretty or alluring. And she’s feisty, I’ll tell you that much, but I doubt she’ll want to mess with The Authority as long as The Shield is around,” he replied smugly, glancing over at Roman who nodded in agreement.

“She’s also got quite the smile, if you ask me! She’s drop-dead gorgeous,” The King, Jerry Lawler, jumped into the conversation, adding a whistle for good measure.

Dean’s face twisted in distaste as he shook his head at the legend, “Jeez, relax, would you, King? I’m sure she’s into the younger, more charming kinda guys—you know, piercing blue eyes, killer body, top-notch sense of humor?”

“Are you insinuating that—”

“What Dean means is that we’re not letting her distract us. In fact, she’s history from here on out.” Roman cut in.

Interrupting Cole from finishing his sentence that was sure to get Dean in hot water for making the entire match about his in real-life girlfriend whom he was irrevocably in love with.

The girls beside you whistled and giggled like middle-schoolers, knocking their elbows into your shoulders, knowing your boyfriend couldn’t help but get a little jealous even if it was just all for fun—what could you say? Your boyfriend was more than a little protective.

“Oh, he’s obsessed with you!” Brie teased, while you hung your head low, masking your blush behind your hair.

“What he is going to be is fired if he keeps it up.” You groaned half-jokingly, raising your head when you heard the bell ring and their theme song hit.

Roman and Dean slid into the ring, lifting their brother’s arm up in victory and celebrating together before retreating backstage through the crowd. But of course Dean couldn’t miss a poster with your name written across it, smirking at the fan who wore your merch and giving his nod of approval for support.

You quickly said goodbye to the girls, tossing your plate of food into the bins and heading towards the corridor where you knew they would be coming in from. When you arrived, they just so happened to get through the doors, arena security guards shaking their hands and posing for a quick picture and then heading off.

“Really? You know being on commentary means you comment on the match in front of you? Not your girlfriend.”

You crossed your arms across your chest, leaning against the walls as you gawked feigning exasperation.

Roman and Seth snickered, swinging their heads and heading off towards the carts to recuperate, letting you and Dean have your usual banter that turned into a love fest all too fast.

“Is there something going on between you and Jerry? Because I might just put him out of retirement.” He made his way towards you, lifting a speculating brow.

You let your arms fall across his waist, a cheeky smile seeping on to your features at the thought of him truly being jealous over Jerry Lawler, of all people. Yet you didn’t hesitate to iron out his worries, staring up at him fondly.

“It’s an honor to be one of his favorite female superstars, but I can assure you it’s all one sided. My sights are strictly set on a more younger, charming guy with piercing blue eyes and an impeccable sense of humor.”

You chided, poking at his cheek, watching the dimples form when he tried to hold back his smile.

“Some might even say good with the ladies?” He added with a wiggle of his brows while you threw your head back and laughed, pushing at his chest.

“Yeah, right. I’m the only lady he’s good with.”

He nodded in agreement, pulling you closer and placing a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s get out of here before I do something else that gets me in trouble.”

You linked your fingers with his, the two of you strolling back towards the main area of the arena out of the public space.

As you made your way through the dimly lit corridors, a few fans who were taking bathroom and concession stand breaks caught sight of your backs. However, they didn’t recognize you out of your wrestling attire—curiously wondering who was the mystery lady was.

Dean watched the monitors intently, his knee bouncing up and down anxiously from where he was sitting in gorilla position tuning into your championship contender match against Nikki. The final minutes were winding down, and Brie had already been ejected, sent backstage after the ref caught her trying to aid her twin in the match.

“That’s my girl!” he clapped loud, standing up as you hit your finisher and got the pin—the rest of gorilla cheering for you, knowing it was a long time coming.

You hadn’t told him the outcome of the match, and no matter how hard he tried to get it out of you, it was all worth it seeing you celebrate and get one step closer to your first championship run. When you made it up the ramp and back through the curtain, you were instantly lifted off your feet, your arms clinging around his frame before being smothered in congratulatory kisses.

“I knew you were gonna win it.” He told you, setting you down and tucking strands of your hair behind your ear.

“I think I deserve a celebration tonight, don’t you?” You whispered secretly just for the two of you to hear, both of you sharing grins before he nodded, and placed a kiss on your lips.

“I say we get our segment over with, then get out of here?” He proposed, already hearing the stage hand calling out for the two of you to get into positions backstage.

“I’d like that a lot.” You agreed, taking his hand to where a stagehand was guiding you through the short segment.

Seth, Roman and Steph were already on their marks, greeting you with hugs and salutes before needing to step out of view while the cameras set up. They would be close behind Steph, acting as her personal security personnel for when she confronted you about your match on Sunday.

“Action!”

“Well, well, well,” Stephanie clapped her hands slowly, approaching you where you sat on the carts, icing your shoulder, “Congratulations on being the number one contender for the women’s championship, I guess you are champion material after all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, grimacing at the strain in your shoulder before standing up to face her.

“Save it, Stephanie, and cut to the chase. What’s the catch? I know you wouldn’t make it this easy for me to get what I want.”

She frowned deceptively, “Do you really think I’m that cruel?” she glanced behind her, questioning the boys, “Can you guys believe that?”

They sneered at you, shaking their heads before Steph turned her attention back to you with a heavy sigh that always meant bad news.

“I’ll have you know that I always knew that you could do it, you just needed someone to light that fire underneath you. And I’m sure you’ll get the job done this Sunday. But just to be very sure, I think The Shield wouldn’t mind a front-row seat at your championship match.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at her, “I don’t need them causing distractions.”

Dean snorted, gesturing to himself in a self-absorbed manner, “I’m flattered sweetheart, I really am, but your attention really should be on winning.”

You turned your nose up at him, looking the other way “Oh please, don’t let it get to your head Ambrose, you disgust me on many levels.”

Steph clapped her hands, looking at the faction, then back at you.

“Well, it’s settled. The Shield will be ringside for your championship match on Sunday. And I’ll be tuning in…champ.”

With that, she strutted away, leaving you and the boys behind with the camera still focused on you four.

“Stay out of my way,” you growled, eyeing each one of them down threateningly, not wanting your one championship opportunity to be at risk.

“Don’t worry about us.” Roman shook his head, walking off first.

“Wouldn’t want to let that championship slip from right under you.” Seth cackled manically, rubbing his hands together and following suit.

Only you and Dean remained, but this time instead of words being spoken aloud for everyone else to hear, his hands came up to cup around your ear, whispering words only two would ever know.

“I’ll be cheering you on. You know I always am. And you looked sexy out there, by the way.”

He backed off with a wink, leaving you flushed despite trying to play it off as hatred.

The crowd could only wonder what Dean had said to you, and it seemed like Cole and Jerry were just as curious, speaking over commentary about some ideas. Shortly after, the cameras cut, and once again, you were lifted off your feet, Dean hoisting you up a few inches off the ground to give you a proper hug after being rushed in gorilla.

“Congrats again, and don’t forget to go over the script changes!” Stephanie reminded, smiling as she waved goodbye to you and Dean, knowing you two would be pleasantly happy with creative’s turn on the storyline.

Dean raised an eyebrow, calling out to her “Script changes?”

Stephanie grinned, looking over her shoulder towards the both of you. “Just a little tweak for the next show. You’ll like it a lot.”

As she walked away, you and Dean exchanged curious glances not knowing what the script change could be on such short notice.

“Guess we better check those out,” you shrugged tossing the melted ice pack into a nearby trash bin.

He nodded, his hand finding yours again running his fingertips across your knuckles, leaning down to murmur against your lips.

“Yeah, but first, let’s get out of here and celebrate your win. And I meant what I said earlier…you look pretty damn sexy.”

“Lead the way, baby.” You leaned in, letting your lips brush his gingerly, a lingering kiss remaining until you were left to worship the rest of it in privacy.

“Get up, AJ!” you screamed, yanking her up by the hair and throwing her down into one of the corners of the ring.

Your boot met her midsection repeatedly until the ref pulled you back, giving her a moment to catch her breath while you and the official exchanged some words in the meantime.

The Shield boys kept to themselves, spread out on all three sides of the ring, keeping an eye on the entire match and most importantly, you.

To be quite honest, it was hard for Dean to hold back on his excitement, his tongue practically bruised from biting down on it, trying not to break out of character and into smiles or cheers when you got the upper hand in the match.

They were anxiously waiting for their cue; you picking AJ back up and throwing her towards the center of the ring, ready to go for your finisher. That’s when they got into positions, teetering up on the apron grabbing onto the ropes as if they were stalking their way in.

“What the hell is The Shield doing, Cole?” Jerry questioned, his voice filled with concern.

“I have no clue, but it can’t be good. We have to assume, ladies and gentleman, that Stephanie McMahon put them up to this,” Cole proposed.

You took notice of the men involving themselves in the biggest match of your life, brows pulled together in anger and frustration.

“Hey! What the hell is wrong with you guys?” You shouted, turning your attention to the boys who were now standing on the apron, sights set on you.

You walked towards Dean, and the ref headed towards Roman and Seth signaling for them to get down.

“Leave me the hell alone” You seethed, coming face to face with Dean. The only thing separating the both of you were the ring ropes.

“I know you like it.” He gloated, arms held wide, earning boos from the crowd.

You shook your head, turning away slightly only for the palm of your hand to meet his cheek with a harsh slap a few seconds later.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Dean pinched his eyes shut, shaking off the sting in his skin, putting on a cocky sneer that quickly had you angered again. You kept an eye on the titantron in front of you, aware that AJ would be coming in any second to catch you off guard, which was all a part of the finish.

Seth and Roman hopped back down onto the floor, while Dean took notice of AJ sprinting behind you. His arms shoving you out harm’s way in order to take the hit. Her legs knocking him to the floor, while she fell to the mat, unaware that you had backed into one of the corners, shocked at Dean’s sacrifice, but none the less not wasting time.

You quickly got to your feet, delivering a super-kick to her jaw before lifting her body into position for your finisher and hitting it in the center of the ring. You hurried into the pin, locking her legs and arm as the ref counted.

“1, 2, 3…ring the bell!”

Surprise and shock covered your features, your hands covering your face as you tried to hold back tears for backstage while the ref walked over to retrieve your title. AJ rolled out of the ring, giving you your moment to savor as the championship was placed in your arms and your theme song blasted through the sold-out arena.

You forced yourself off your knees, thrusting the championship high up in the air, gaining cheers and applauses from the audience who were on their feet. You swore you could jump into your boyfriend’s arms right then and there without a care in the world about scripts and keeping up the act—but you knew it’d all be worth it.

Seth, Roman, and Dean hopped back onto the apron, this time not faltering on letting themselves through the ropes, stalking their way towards you as your theme song suddenly got cut and the ref scrambled out towards safety.

“Uh oh, is The Shield going to spoil the best night of her WWE career?” Cole speculated.

“I hope not. The last thing we need is the new WWE women’s champ being put out of action all because of these three men.” Jerry added.

You swallowed thickly, clutching the championship to your chest, looking left and right for a way out that was impossible at this point. There was nowhere left for you to go, the crowd anxiously awaiting to see what was going to happen next.

Dean’s fingertips hovered over your face, clutching your skin delicately and forcing you to meet his orbs. You looked stunned, about to break in terror until suddenly a wide smile emerged across your features.

“Oh, my god! What the hell is going on?” The commentators cried out disturbingly.

Seth and Roman stepped back with laugher rumbling in their chests, clapping and pointing at the both of you as if they had known the real story all along.

Meanwhile, Dean closed the space between your lips, pulling you into a fervent kiss taking everyone aback. Your lips moved together in tandem, like they always did behind the scenes where no one had a clue you were flying right under their noses.

You both pulled away, smiling widely at each other, before he gestured towards you, reaching to grab your wrists and lifting it high up in the air, your theme song hitting once more, this time the crowd torn between cheers and boos.

Dean held you close, his pride evident in his eyes letting everything around him turning into white noise.

“My girl. My champ.” he whispered, speaking to you like you were the only ones in the world in that very moment.

You looked up at him, closing your eyes in bliss, before mouthing the words.

“We got away with it.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hi everyone!!! this is my first imagine/one-shot here on tumblr and im excited to be getting back into my wwe era. it's always fun revisiting my loves (aka: dean, roman, and seth), and i can't wait to mesh some stories with my fave taylor tracks. this one is loosely based off false god hehehe.

[wwereaderinserts]

More shield x reader smut 🙏 you are my favourite writer

A/N: I found this very tricky to do, but I hope I somewhat did it justice and I hope you enjoy still!! Title: Good Things Come To Those Who Wait Pairing: The Shield x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 2,674 Warnings: Smut, swears

Licking your lips in anticipation, your heart races with the perfect cocktail of nerves and excitement as Dean’s grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly while he’s leading you back to the hotel room that you’ll be spending the remainder of the night in, with company, no less.

You’re excited at the prospect of an entirely new experience awaiting you, but you’re also nervous for the exact same reason. Roman and Seth are waiting for you behind the closed doors, and to this very moment, you’re still extremely surprised that Dean had been so open to the idea of sharing you with them both when they’d approached him about it, even if it’s only for tonight.

“You sure you still want to do this? Because if you’ve changed your mind or anything, I can let them know. Won’t be the end of the world, I promise.”

Dean asks, stopping right outside the hotel room, his concerned eyes not leaving yours until you give him something, anything. You attempt to give him a reassuring smile and a nod, also squeezing his hand in further reassurance.

“I’m sure, just…a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before now, that’s all,” you tell him, “Once we’re in and getting to it, I’m sure I’ll relax a bit. Don’t worry about me, I still want to do this.”

Dean’s eyes scan yours for any signs of doubt, but he finds none. He takes you at face value, flashing you a smile and planting a tender kiss on your lips before he swipes his card and opens the hotel room door, pulling you inside with him before he closes it behind you both and locks it.

Already perched on the edge of the double bed, waiting for you both, are Seth and Roman. Upon seeing you, they both give you a warm, welcoming smile, not wanting to jump right into things and instead wanting to ensure that you’re comfortable first and foremost.

“Hey, you two took your time!” Seth jests, rising up off the bed, “We were starting to think you decided not to share her after all, Ambrose.”

“Come on, man. Good things come to those who wait, right?”

Roman chuckles, soon bursting into a hearty laugh, with you joining in with him at the sight of Dean playfully flipping Seth off. You break away from Dean’s side for a second once the laughter dies down, glancing between each man, gauging your next move.

Do you get right down to it? Do you sit around and talk for a bit first? You aren’t entirely sure, but the former seems more appealing to you. It’s not like Roman and Seth are complete strangers to you, either. You’ve just never known them in this kind of setting before.

It’s almost as though Dean reads your mind when he rejoins you at your side, looping an arm around your waist and turning you to face him. He greets you with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’re gonna start things off together, and then the boys are gonna join in. Okay?”

He asks, and you give him a smile and a nod in response. Your smile quickly dissolves into a smirk, and you gaze up at Dean, trailing a hand up to his chest while you seductively tug your lower lip between your teeth.

“Oh, so this means I have to put on a show, hm?”

You ask, and Dean matches your sultry demeanour, pulling you closer to him while he slides a hand down the small of your back, stopping when it meets your ass, giving you a purposeful squeeze.

“But that’s exactly what you wanted, right, baby?” Dean chuckles lowly in your ear, “Now let’s see if you can handle all of us.”

Seth and Roman watch on from the couch opposite the bed while Dean leads you to the bed, nudging you back onto it before he pins you to the mattress, his strong arms boxing you in. Dean’s careful not to press too much of his weight onto you, but he leans in and kisses you tenderly at first, then it quickly grows more heated between you both.

He raises a hand of his off of the mattress, making it free to roam over your body. He practically swipes down the front of your shirt, making quick work of the buttons in one swell swoop to bare your bare breasts to him, a welcome sight for all three men.

“Didn’t even bother wearing a bra?” Dean purrs, shooting you a knowing smirk, “Such a naughty girl, hm? What are we gonna do with you?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer him, any semblance of a response choked down by a shuddering gasp when Dean’s mouth trails south in search of one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. Your breath hitches, and your hands fumble to undo his belt, tugging his pants and boxers down his thighs to free his hardening cock from its confines.

Seth and Roman are most definitely enjoying the sight, respectively beginning to strip whilst keeping their eyes on you and Dean. Seth takes his rightful place back on the couch, palming himself through his boxers while Roman takes the more open approach of stroking his now-free cock.

“Ah, she likes that, huh?” Roman smirks, watching intently at the way you gasp softly when Dean repeats the action with your other nipple, “Good to know, I’ll be trying that when it’s my turn.”

Dean unlatches himself from your nipple and lifts his head, more than likely about to retort, but it’s soon replaced with a soft grunt when you reach down between you both and wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him languidly at first before you become more enthusiastic. He switches positions, moving off of you to sit up on his knees in front of you instead, granting you easier access while you shift with him, mirroring his own position on the bed.

Seth, now sliding his boxers down his legs and kicking them off to one side of the room, strokes himself to your movements, not wanting to avert his eyes while he grunts softly, eagerly awaiting his own turn with you.

“Is that good?” You ask Dean as you continue to stroke him, but you already know the answer. Dean thrusts into your hand, spurring you on, and you feel your own arousal rising, being heightened further by Roman’s and Seth’s eyes fixed on you both.

“Feels great, baby,” Dean groans, grinning widely while he glances to the side at his two friends on the hotel room couch, “But you know what I think would be really hot? Suck me off while those two watch.”

Wordlessly, you smirk and lower your head, parting your lips for Dean to slide his cock into your mouth. He fills your mouth with ease, and you hollow your cheeks around him while he fists at your hair with a moan, controlling how much of him you can take.

You begin bobbing your head along his length, building up a rhythm, and you hear Seth and Roman get up out of their seats to make their way over to the bed with you and Dean. They’re both standing at the foot of the bed, cocks standing at full mast and waiting to be stroked by you. They’ve clearly had enough of being observers, and want to become very willing participants instead.

“Couldn’t stay on the sidelines for much longer,” Seth’s voice is low with want as he closes more distance between you both, “You still got two hands, right? Use them.”

He demands, and you’re more than happy to comply. You remove your hands from Dean’s thighs and reach out to stroke Seth and Roman, the former in your right hand and the latter in your left. They both gaze down at you, looking on as you pleasure them as well as expertly using your mouth on Dean, to which Dean shoots them both a satisfied smirk.

“I know, I know,” he grips the back of your head again, keeping you at his desired rhythm, “Ain’t I lucky, boys?”

“She’s looking a bit…empty, though,” Roman grits through his teeth, “Think I should fill her up, y’know? She deserves it.”

Roman stops himself there, as though he’s seeking permission from you and Dean. You groan around Dean at the thought as well as involuntarily clenching around nothing, and Dean chuckles lowly and bucks into your mouth.

“Oh, she liked the thought of that, lemme tell you. Go on, fuck her. Make her scream.”

Roman needs no further telling. You release him from your grasp, and he makes his way behind you to tug your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion. You’re already dripping wet, your slick folds on full display to him, and he wastes no time in rubbing the head of his cock through your folds and lining himself up with your entrance.

“I’d better get a turn!”

Seth grunts out, and Dean is quick to reprimand him with a swat to the chest while he reminds him to be patient, and that good things come to those who wait. A fleeting moment passes, but Seth has a lightbulb idea.

“I mean, thinking about it, actually, I could get a turn now. I could always just take her in the ass if she’ll let me.”

Your pussy throbs at the suggestion, and Roman smirks from his place behind you. As best as you can, you nod, Dean’s cock still in your mouth, and that’s the green light that everyone needs. Dean withdraws from your mouth with a wet pop, and you’re quick to sit back up on your knees as you glance between the three men with hunger in your gaze.

“Fuck, I’ve never had both at the same time before,” you smirk, “Dean must think really highly of you both, letting both of you fuck me while I just suck his cock.”

“Gotta let them experience it just once, baby. Once in a lifetime experience, probably ain’t never gonna come around again.”

Dean quips back, with Roman and Seth laughing amongst themselves while they reposition. Roman now lays flat on the bed, and you move to straddle him, and Seth kneels behind you on the bed. Dean remains to the side of you, still poised and ready from where he sits on his knees on the bed, but with a bottle of lube from the bedside table now in his hands, ready to pass along to Seth.

Seth gratefully accepts it, popping the lid open to slick his cock up with the substance, and once everybody is happy in their new positions, everything seems to resume without another moments’ pause.

Roman lines his cock up with your entrance once more, while Seth squeezes lube out of the bottle and rubs it around your tight, puckered hole, even dipping a finger in to stretch you out, if only slightly. You groan at the intrusion, arching your back at the sensation, and you moan out an affirmation for Seth and Roman to slip inside you.

“Let them know if it’s too much for you, baby.”

Dean tells you before he slips his cock back into your waiting mouth, while Roman slides into your pussy seemingly with ease. A guttural moan falls from his lips at the way your walls squeeze him, and he has to refrain from immediately bucking up into you. Seth is next, taking his time to line himself up with you before he pushes into the tight ring of muscle, moaning wantonly at the tight fit.

“Holy fuck, she’s so tight,” Seth hisses, his nails biting into your hips while you moan around Dean’s cock, “I can barely move, jesus-”

Roman, unable to physically restrain himself for much longer, begins to fuck you roughly, thrusting up to meet you while his grunts and groans mingle with the wet slaps of your bodies colliding.

Dean’s fingers thread back through your hair, somewhat more tender this time, remaining aware of how overstimulating and overwhelming the experience has the potential to be for you. But you’re lost in the pleasure, completely consumed by it, each hole of yours being filled by your partner and his two best friends, and you’re loving every second of it.

Seth slowly begins to take you from behind, and he lands a harsh slap against your ass cheek before he gradually begins picking up the pace. Every sound of yours is muffled by Dean’s cock in your mouth, but you know that you won’t last much longer, not with the way they’re hitting virtually every sweet spot inside you with their thrusts.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can last much longer-”

Roman growls just as his thrusts begin to falter, and mere moments later, he’s brought himself to the brink. You feel his cock pulse inside you as he spills himself deep within you, and he stills inside you before he goes limp under you while he comes down from his high.

Dean glances down at you, seeing the pleasure written all over your face in the moment, and it’s practically all he needs to send himself over the edge. Knowing you’ll more than likely swallow every drop he gives you, he doesn’t offer you the option, unloading his seed right down your throat as he cums with a loud moan of your name, and as predicted, you swallow every drop he has to offer you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing great,” Dean praises you, releasing himself from your mouth for the final time with a wet pop, “Such a good girl for us.”

Now, you’re able to freely be as loud as you desire. You’re panting, rocking back to meet Seth’s thrusts, Roman’s cock still inside you until it eventually slips out as a result of how eager and desperate you’re becoming to reach your own peak.

“Seth, I’m almost there!” you whine, trailing a hand down where your deft fingers rub rough circles around your clit, “It feels so good, don’t fucking stop-”

That’s all the encouragement Seth needs. Dean and Roman enjoy the show, Roman still underneath you while Dean catches his breath off to the side, while Seth pounds into you as fast as he can allow himself to go.

“It won’t be long for me, either,” Seth’s breathless now, still chasing his orgasm, “Want me to pull out, shoot it all on your back?”

You nod eagerly, small grunts and groans spilling from your lips as you brace a hand on Roman’s chest for leverage, the other still toying with your clit as you finally send yourself over the edge. You see stars when you cum, your knees buckling as your pussy twitches and convulses around nothing before you collapse forward onto Roman’s chest.

Seth, unable to hold back for much longer, moans your name before he pulls out of your ass, strokes himself to completion, and shoots his load all over your back, just as promised. He stops himself from pressing his full weight onto you when he collapses forward, joining yourself, Dean, and Roman in being completely and utterly spent.

“Fuck, that was…”

“Amazing.”

“Incredible.”

“Fucking mindblowing.”

You started the sentence, and the responses from each came tumbling in simultaneously. Breathless and positively drained, you laugh at the fact, rolling off to the side of Roman to lay there on the bed, giving him the chance to catch his own breath while Seth perches himself on the edge of the bed.

You’re completely exhausted, but your drowsy eyes still flit up to meet Dean’s own, only to find that he’s already gazing down at you with pure adoration in his eyes. You flash him a dozy smile, and he’s quick to give you one right back.

“You did amazing, baby,” Dean praises you, propping himself up on the bed, ready to get up, “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, then you can rest. You deserve it.”

[mamirhodessxox]

We’re getting very explorative here sooo..taking requests for Dean Ambrose 😋🙏

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[damiansgoodgirll]

dean ambrose masterlist

beauty and the beast

[twins-write]

Request Information

We write x reader and x OC stories/oneshots, so don't be afraid to give your character a name, unless you prefer it being the reader!

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Request form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdf15DK07JIGzKMNPC2FrEgP7ces4KfIxTngYcNwvmusaXxGA/viewform?usp=sf_link

[delilahcalicocat]

Can i request a smut with dean ambrose and roman reigns x fem reader! a hate fuck pleaseee!!!! they dominate her

A/N: of course. I love this idea so much. Hope that you don't mind but I made this Shield Era-

——————————🍄——————————

•°○●Don't Worry●○°•

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❤️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

《Rating: Smut》

☆《Warnings: Unprotected sex, hatefuck, Dom/Sub Dynamic, throatfucking, and Swearing.》★

◆《Pairing: Dean Ambrose x Fem!Reader x Roman Reigns》◆

——————————💞——————————–

Being on the WWE Roster was a rough time, you didn't have many friends.

You had mainly enemies, Especially with the Shield.

They hated you so much they wouldn't even look your way, Dean and Roman specifically.

You tried your best to make friends. But it didn't turn out too good.

So one day when you were cleaning up your apartment, you got a double knock on the door.

It was probably... them....

"Oh... no.." You said to yourself

It was a terrifying moment, because your enemies just showed up at your door..

they walked inside once you invited them in, a small amount of your panic showing.

it was clear you were scared..

"Hello there pretty girl." Dean said

"I.. thought you hated me.. why'd you call me that?" You remarked

"Oh, we still hate you. But we want your help." Roman Explained.

"With what..." You questioned curiously

"This if your okay with it." Roman said

You were iffy about this. But if it got them out it got them out.

"Okay.."

And now you wished you'd never said that. Because you bent over the couch. And you were getting fucked silly. Roman agonizing your throat at a pace you couldn't even imagine.

Meanwhile, Dean was clearly praising you under his breath. But he was also saying things to make you a bit upset. Since this was a hatefuck.

Roman released and stepped back for a few moments. You turned your head to Dean with a scowl.

You were sure you wouldn't be able to speak the next morning, because of the sudden intrusion of Roman's Cock in your mouth again.

★

By the time Roman was done, you couldn't speak. Dean finished not too long after. But they then got you dressed and laid you down on the couch.

Then they left the house.

[amrcnnightmre]

WHO I WRITE FOR!

Hi! this is a space to see who i wrote for & some tid bits on what i prefer & how to request ! <3

As stated in the Info about requests feel absolutely free to ask/inquire & request any wrestler/s that aren’t in my masterlist & I will see what I can do, I really want to write for as many people you all are interested in reading as possible ! 🎀🪄

ALSO! as we know there are handfuls of wrestlers who have been in more than one of the companies I write for so feel free to request for any of the listed wrestlers and any company they were in! but please explicitly state Time frame, era, & their gimmick at the time!

I.e. Jeff Hardy ( TNA antichrist era) x Reader! + a description of what you want the imagine to be about!

OR Jeff Hardy ( 2000s team xtreme ) x Reader!

you get the idea i hope! hehe : ) I love a lot of wrestlers eras & gimmicks across TNA/WWE/AEW so please request for things like that! 🩷

NOTE: I am okay with doing some wrestler x wrestler writing, for example, Jeff Hardy x Trish Stratus ( a personal favourite of mine )

LIST!

WILL UPDATE THIS LIST OFTEN! :)

• Cody Rhodes

• Roman Reigns

• Cm Punk

• Jeff Hardy

• Matt Hardy

• Lita

• Trish Stratus

• Triple H

• Jey Uso

• Edge ( Adam Copeland )

• Christian Cage

• James Storm ( TNA )

• Jon Mosley/Dean Ambrose

• Seth Rollins

• Rhea Ripley

• Liv Morgan

• Zelina Vega

• Dominik Mysterio

• Rey Mysterio ( 2000s mostly )

• MJF

• Will Ospreay

• Jack Perry

• Damien Priest

• Roxanne Perez

• Joe Hendry

• Angelina Love

• Velvet Sky

• Tara/Victoria

• Gail Kim.

• Aj Styles

• Finn Balor

• Hook

• Drew Mcintyre

• Austin Theory

• Grayson Waller

• Uncle Howdy/Bo Dallas

• Randy Orton

• Darby Allen

• Kenny Omega

• LA Knight

• Nick Jackson

• Matt Jackson

• Nic Nemeth/dolph ziggler

• Darby Allen