#i only watch aew for him

[mjfsapologist]

bonus:

[randanopterix]

Hangman spending months trying to destroy Swerve and once he succeeds looks back with an incredible grief

[the-kipsabian]

[likesummerrainn]

AEW Collision | 11.11.23

[danwhobrowses]

So apparently NXT drew 900k to AEW's 600k on tv (no mention of Fite or BR streams) meaning that they 'win'. Which is a shame because it would've been super funny if they lost.

And it'll matter a whole amount of 0

But I'm sure WWE tribalist stans will celebrate their 11 in 63-11 win over AEW on their regular day after throwing top starts like Cena and exhuming the Undertaker at their so-called 'Developmental', I still preferred Dynamite.

[dilf-in-peril]

Buck Bald did a roundhouse kick into a high knee in the corner into a running bulldog to honor his great idol cm punk.

[thistledropkick]

I haven't been keeping up with the Junior Heavyweight tag league, but Okamoto of Tokyo Sports posted an article he wrote about Umino and his backstage comments to twitter recently, and the replies are absolutely brutal.

The article covers Umino's backstage comments from 11/2, with the headline "Umino Shota requests a one-on-one fight with his master and AEW World Champion Moxley. 'Perhaps the time has come'" The excerpt from the article that people seem to be reacting most strongly to is towards the end. NJPW has translated it on the official subtitles, but I'll translate it myself here too. Umino says, "I absolutely don't approve of your way of doing things. But I know how to heal you. First of all, send me a message. Since our IWGP match in America, I haven't gotten a message, a phone call, or heard anything from you at all... Perhaps the time has come."

Japanese wrestling twitter is usually more positive than English-language wrestling twitter. (That may not be saying much given the state of English-language wrestling twitter in general, but it is generally the case.) But the replies to Okamoto's tweet are overwhelmingly negative, to a degree that really shocked me. As I went through and read them, I only saw a few scattered positive replies mixed in among almost universally negative ones.

Many of these negative comments reflect the issues that many people seem to have with his character - that his influence from Moxley feels shallow and surface-level, that he seems to be a mix of influences rather than his own man, that he isn't understanding or taking in the reason the crowd is booing him in the first place, and that he keeps being given way too many chances without having the results to justify them. And there are still some comparisons between him and Stardust Genius Naito, as well. Besides these criticisms, there are also a lot of replies that are just heckling, or are outright mean.

I think Umino is in a really tough situation right now, and I'm not even sure how they can get him out of it. Out of the "Reiwa Three Musketeers", Umino is the only one who has had zero results - Tsuji Youta has held the IWGP 6 man tag belt and won the New Japan Cup, and Narita Ren has held the IWGP 6 man belt and is the current World TV champ. Umino has had many chances, but he has won no tournaments and no belts.

Because of this, it doesn't make sense to me that they'd give him yet another match against Moxley. I don't feel like Umino's at a place where it would make sense to have him win against Moxley in a fair singles match right now - as it stands, Umino's coming to this from a string of losses, although he does have his match with Sanada coming up soon. But even if Umino wins that match, I don't know that it would make him feel like he's at a high enough level to get a victory there.

And also, while I don't watch AEW or follow it at all, I know that Moxley is a wrestler who only rarely takes a pin. I decided to look up the stats, and it seems that he's only taken one pin in all of 2024 - to Naito, for the IWGP HW belt, in a situation that was completely unavoidable because NJPW needed their belt back eventually. And that pin was to Naito, who is unquestionably the most popular wrestler in NJPW.

Given those things, I can't imagine that Umino will get a win over Moxley if this match happens. But why set him up for a match against Moxley just to have him lose again? That would make him look even worse. But a win at this point wouldn't feel right to me, and I don't think it would feel right to the crowd either.

And putting all that aside, if Umino does win over Sanada and then tries to use that to challenge Zack for the belt for 1.4, I think the crowd is going to revolt. I really do think they'll have another Naito situation on their hands, where the crowd will rally for some other match to take the main event spot. But if they're trying to make this play out like Naito's story did, I don't know how successful that's likely to be - Stardust Genius Naito had a much more established career and fan base than Umino did, and he's also just a different person than Umino is. I don't know that that's something that can be intentionally repeated.

I can't stop thinking about this Umino Shota situation, so I'm gonna write about it.

Umino has been in a very weird position for quite a while now, when it comes to his character, his booking, and his crowd response. I feel like it has finally hit some kind of breaking point at the recent KOPW show.

When Umino walked out to challenge for the IWGP HW belt, he didn't just "get booed" - he got a mix of cold silence, some scattered booing, and some overt heckling from people in the crowd shouting "Go home" at him. That wasn't even the kind of booing you want in pro wrestling - it was an outright rejection of him by the crowd.

(You can hear the heckling starting at about 3 minutes in during this video - people in the crowd start shouting "Kaere!" "Go home!" This mix of scattered booing, icy quiet, and heckling is not the kind of response NJPW goes for even for actual heel wrestlers.)

It was also absolutely not the response that anybody there had planned for or anticipated. Umino looked legitimately upset, Zack immediately took action to calm down the crowd before things got ugly, and then Takagi came out to keep things moving when it was clear the crowd was not going to change their tone. If any of this response had been planned, they would've encouraged it instead, or at least given it a little more space to play out.

In his backstage comments afterwards, Umino addressed the comparison that fans have repeatedly been making between himself and Stardust Genius era Naito. Umino rejected that comparison.

(Personally, I agree that the two situations aren't identical, but for a different reason - Naito was a much more well-established wrestler when the crowd turned on him, while Umino has never even held a title.)

In any case, the fact that Umino is directly addressing the comparisons that fans keep making, rather than ignoring them, was noteworthy to me.

Today, an article about the situation was released in Tokyo Sports. Tokyo Sports is a kayfabe magazine, and anything published there is generally done to forward the intended story of the wrestlers involved.

The headline reads: Umino Shota - "Booing = Big Shot" Proof of his decision to fight for the IWGP "Even Tanahashi-san himself said, I'm leaving it to you, Sho-chan"

This is... not helping to counter the feelings of the fans that Umino is being given a spot he doesn't deserve, to say the least. And quoting Tanahashi calling him the cutesy nickname "Sho-chan" isn't helping either.

With this being addressed directly in the kayfabe ToSpo, I have to believe it means they'll be addressing it directly in the storyline as well. And it's very easy to imagine some scenarios where they could repeat the infamous fan vote that eventually turned Naito ungovernable. But with the differences between Naito's situation and Umino's, I'm not sure how well this will actually work if they do end up trying it...

As for my own feelings about all this - I don't like or dislike Umino as a wrestler right now - more than anything, I feel like he hasn't solidified as a wrestler enough for me to have much of an opinion on him yet. But this whole situation has been fascinating to watch as it plays out.

[ellswritings]

My Hero

CM Punk (Phil Brooks) x Reader

TW: Drinking, handsy dude who follows reader out of the bar, violence, foul language, Phil being extra protective, silly misunderstandings, mutual pining. I think that’s it.

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

Part of Y/N wishes she had listened to Phil. Actually, all of Y/N wishes she had listened to him. Maybe if she had just been content with sitting at the hotel watching movies with him for the night, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

Demi and a couple of the other girls wanted to go out the night before their big show tomorrow. Phoenix Arizona wasn’t necessarily their favorite place to be, but it still had its perks. They all agreed not to get hammered or anything as they had to be up bright and early, but it was really the only time they had to themselves as they had only landed earlier that morning.

The bar itself was nice. It was only a five minute walk from the hotel, practically right down the street which made it convenient to walk to. The inside was well-furnished, feeling more like a speakeasy rather than a bar. It was a nice find. Not that any of them were surprised. The hotel the company got for them was on the higher end of the monetary spectrum as well.

Phil knew she had plans to go out with the girls later that night, but something in him just didn’t set right at the thought of her out so late. He’s always been rather protective of Y/N, having known her since she debuted at AEW in 2022 before getting poached by WWE the following year.

He’s seen her grow into the phenomenon she is today. They’ve only known each other for a few years, but she quickly became someone he relied on. Which speaks volumes as Phil has never been one to rely on anyone. But something is different about her. The way her smile easily lit up a room, or the way her laugh could brighten even the worst of days for anyone. It made him fiercely protective of her.

So the moment that uneasy feeling rose in his chest, he tried to suggest that she stay in with him. That they could hang out in his room and watch movies like they usually do when they’re in a city for more than two days. But since this trip was supposed to be short, she was adamant about going out before having to hop on another flight.

He understood, and he would never force her to do something she didn’t want to, but it didn’t ease that gnawing feeling in his gut. He tried again to get her to stay right before Demi came to get her, but all he got was a small scoff and a teasing remark about how just because he couldn’t stay up past midnight doesn’t mean she couldn’t.

Phil could feel himself becoming anxious at the thought of her being out. It frustrated him. He didn’t get anxious ever, especially over people. The only time he ever got even remotely close to anxious is when Larry ate the tab of his Pepsi can when it fell on the floor.

But he didn’t want to push the subject any further. She was a big girl. She could handle herself. That’s what he told himself. He’s seen her kick some serious ass in their time of being friends, so he knows what she’s capable of.

But even that didn’t soothe his mind.

So in order to preoccupy himself, he turned on some mind-numbing movie to fill the quiet space that is his hotel room as he patiently waits to get the text that she and the girls made it back to the hotel after their outing.

While the night started out lively and fun, funny stories, shots, and laughs being shared between friends, Y/N slowly started realizing how truly exhausted she was. Perhaps it is the fact she spends most of her time with Phil who is an old man at heart. The thought of him already laying in his bed in pajamas at ten-forty five makes her smile. Maybe it’s his fault she’s now having a hard time living it up. Not that she minds. Hence why now she’s secretly longing for the other girls to tire out so she can catch the tail end of whatever crap movie he managed to find on the hotel television.

Demi notices the small yet distant smile on her friend's face. She smirks, nudging her, “What’s got you all smitten?” She asks with a teasing edge, her accent sounding like velvet to anyone with ears.

Y/N snaps back into reality, suddenly hyper aware of all the eyes on her. “Nothing…” she tries to brush off, taking a sip of her Malibu and coke. “Just got lost in my head a little bit.”

“Well that’s a scary place to be,” Victoria quips without missing a beat making everyone chuckle.

Y/N lovingly rolls her eyes, crumpling up a napkin and tossing it at Victoria, “Har har, very funny.”

“Nah, we all know she probably zoned out thinking about how Punker’s sitting up in his room waiting for her to get back, huh?” Demi grins evilly, though she tries to cover it up with a look of innocence as Y/N glares at her harshly.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, pinching the woman’s bicep. Demi lets out a small gasp before playfully slapping Y/N back.

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” Gionna chimes in. “It’s kinda cute how he looks out for you. Not a lot of guys nowadays are like that with their girl friends.”

“That’s not true,” Y/N tried to counter, fighting off the blush that’s threatening to rise on her cheeks. She doesn’t know why talking about Phil is making her feel this squeamish, but it definitely did not go unnoticed by her friends. “Plenty of the guys we know at work are like that.”

“Oh please,” Demi scoffs out a laugh. “I’m willing to bet my kidney that Luis is conked out, drooling on his hotel pillow right now.” Everyone laughs at the image of the powerful ‘Damian Priest’ being sprawled out like a toddler. “While I know for a fact that Brooks isn’t sleeping until he knows your back safely.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she knows Demi’s right. She can practically see him staring off into space, his phone resting on his lap as he awaits her goodnight text. That’s how they’ve always been. Waiting up for each other before allowing themselves to get comfortable. She does the same for him.

“The old dogs got a soft spot for you,” she continues. “We’re not saying it’s a bad thing. Just saying that it’s different. You’ve got a unique dynamic. It’s nice to see.”

“We’re all just jealous,” Victoria laughs. “We all wish we had a guy friend like that.”

Friend.

That’s all Phil was right? Her friend. Her best friend. Someone who has sat with her through all the crazy things life threw at them. It’s all they’ve ever been. She’s always looked up to Phil, admired him, aspired to be as good as him in the ring and as good of a person as he is outside of it. He lives his life in a way that is so effortlessly him, and she is eternally grateful to have been blessed with the opportunity to be his friend.

However, like in every sappily tragic romantic comedy, best friends is not the term she would use to describe how she feels towards him.

It wasn’t obvious at first. There was a subtle attraction in their first meeting. How could there not be? He’s Phil Brooks. The CM Punk. She would’ve been crazy to deny how insanely good looking he is. But at first, that’s all it was. Just a good friend being able to admit that the man she has gotten close with is attractive. Unfortunately, that initial spark of interest grew with every passing day and burned down everything in its path until it became an untamable forest fire.

She hates herself for it. She didn’t want their relationship to turn into some sappy romance that made everyone either coo with jealousy or roll their eyes out of annoyance by how basic of a trope it was. So she swallowed every part of her that found him attractive. Hid whatever aspect of her subconscious that told her it would be a good idea to confess her feelings. And so far it’s worked. Things have remained perfect between them. Well, as perfect as they could be.

There still is that small part that wishes they could be more. But she knows that’s a line that can’t be crossed. Not when things are so great the way that they are.

“Yeah, I guess I did get pretty lucky in that department,” Y/N agrees with a fond smile, wrapping her lips around the straw in her drink.

Conversation easily flows back into other things; work, husbands, drama in the locker room. Y/N listens intently, chiming in when she feels like she has something of value to say. There was a long stretch of laughter when Y/N admitted to not having been in a romantic or sexual situation in over a year. They didn’t believe her until they saw her awkwardly sip her drink once more.

“Wait… are you for real?” Victoria raises her eyebrows. “You seriously havent even been on a date in over a year?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says sheepishly. “I just haven’t really had time,” she admits. “And I dunno… I guess I just haven’t found anyone interesting enough to spend time with. In either sense.”

“Really?” Gionna leans forward. “No one tickles your fancy even in the slightest?”

Y/N can’t help but laugh at her word choice. “Yes, really,” she confirms. “I just haven’t found a person that when I look at them I get those instant butterflies, y’know?”

That was almost convincing. Even she almost believed it. But that lie hasn’t worked for the past couple years, it’s probably not gonna work now.

“Well then we’ve gotta find you a man,” Victoria says, a new mission in her eyes. “ ‘Cause there’s no reason someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t have men falling at her feet.”

“She doesn’t need a man,” Demi chuckles. “Not unless she wants one.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s with a certain tenderness, “Do you want one?”

Y/N thinks about it and truthfully, she wouldn’t mind having a significant other to come home to. Or to even travel with while being on the road. She’s had a hard time though the past few years finding anyone that excites her or intrigues in that manner. In fact, shortly after she met Phil, that’s when the struggles in her romantic life started. She really has no one to blame but herself. She let her attraction go unchecked and now it’s costing her in the long run.

“I wouldn’t mind finding someone,” Y/N says honestly. “Even if it’s just somethin’ casual for a little bit.”

“All right…” Demi smirks. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ve been hearing some whispers that Bron’s been talking about you a lot,” she revelas like it’s not that big of a deal.

Gionna gasps, “Oh, I heard that too!” She slaps the table excitedly. “Apparently he’s had his eye on you since he saw you in the Royal Rumble last year.”

Y/N’s face flushes red. She wasn’t expecting Bron Steiner out of all people to have had his attention on her. They’re around the same age, Y/N being only about two years older than him. Normally, she would never even consider entertaining Bron, since she’s typically into older men, but knowing nothing is ever going to happen witht he person she wants it to… maybe Bron wouldn’t be so bad.

“I could ask Dom to talk to one of their mutual friends if you want?” Gionna suggests. “Feel it out a bit.”

Y/N doesn’t understand why she forces a smile on her face. She should be thrilled, but she just can’t dig out that genuine emotion. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Once again, the conversation moves on. Y/N feels her battery depleting more and more as the others continue on drinking. She doesn’t understand how they’re not showing any signs of exhaustion. It’s like the later it gets, the more energy they feel. She rests her head in her hand, her blinks becoming slower and slower as things drag on. She finds herself zoning out, longing to be laying down next to her best friend, falling asleep while mumbling that she’s still watching his movie when they both know she’s not.

Her phone buzzes in her lap and she glances down, the exact name she wanted to see popping up.

“You doing okay?” Phil’s message wakes her up a little more, stirring something inside of her as she moves to reply. “You guys have been gone awhile.”

Y/N smiles but it quickly turns into a frown as she realizes how late it actually is.

2:45 am.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Why are you still up? It’s late.”

“Just waiting for my girl to tell me she got back to the hotel safely.”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters. His girl? She shakes her head, taking a moment to blink rapidly before rereading the message. It’s still there. He didn’t mean it in the way she wishes she could take it. She knows that, constantly repeating it in her head. They’re just friends. She is his girl just like he’s her guy, because they’re close friends. They’ve got a special bond.

That still doesn't stop the way her mind suddenly starts pounding harder than her chest. She can feel her feet pulsing at a different rate and it becomes extremely overwhelming. She turns her phone off, closing her eyes briefly and sucking in a deep breath. The bar suddenly feels much more claustrophobic than she remembers, the dark lighting only helping to soothe the headache that’s building behind her eyes.

She shoves the small amount of her drink away from her, looking at the girls with apologetic eyes. She really didn’t want to be the one to tap out early, but she genuinely just wanted to be in her pajamas. “Guys, I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel. I’m starting to get a little woozy.”

“What?” Demi’s smile falls, concern replacing her joyous expression. “Woozy? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“No- no, I’m fine,” Y/N tries to wave her off. “Just like a tired woozy,” she explains, trying not to make it sound serious. “I just wanna go to bed.”

Victoria moves to grab her purse, “Well here, we’ll finish our drinks and walk back with you.”

“No,” Y/N stops her. “No, guys, you don’t have to do that. I’m being the loser leaving early. You guys are still having a good time. I don’t wanna ruin your guys’ night just because I’m ready to hit the sack.”

“You wouldn’t be ruining our night, Y/N,” Gionna assures her. “It’s extremely late. We don’t want you walking alone.”

“G, I’ll be fine,” Y/N insists, standing up as she gathers her stuff. “It’s literally a five minute walk. I’ll text you guys when I make it back.”

“Y/N…” Demi looks at her, unconvinced. “You’ve been drinking. We’re in a city none of us know. You can’t expect us to just let you walk alone.”

Y/N grabs her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “I promise, I’ll be okay.” A playful smile covers her lips, “I kick people’s asses for a living, remember? I’m sure I can handle a scrawny crackhead that tries to come at me. And like I said, it’s a five minute walk. Nothing’s gonna happen in five minutes.”

“You don’t know that–”

“Dem, I’ll be okay,” Y/N cuts her off, a pleading tone in her voice. “Please. I don’t want you guys to leave on my account. I promise I’ll text you the entire time I’m walking.”

The other three still look more than apprehensive. Y/N impatiently taps her foot, waiting for them to give her permission to go. She just wanted to be considerate of their time. If they’re not tired, they shouldn’t have to leave. Y/N’s never wanted to be a burden on anyone, and she doesn’t want to start now.

They can see the desperation and exhaustion in Y/N’s expression. Victoria’s posture softens, “Can we at least get you an uber?”

Y/N exhales with a fond smile, making her rounds to kiss all of her friends' heads. “No, I’m good. That’ll just be a waste of money. It’s right around the corner. I’ll share my location with the group chat and text you guys the entire way, okay?”

They all sigh, but reluctantly nod their heads. Brief hugs are shared before Y/N takes her phone out, sending her location to their group chat. She sends them a small wave before making her way towards the door. As soon as she pushes it open, she’s hit with a very welcome gust of fresh air. The pounding in her head regresses as she sucks in a deep breath. The fresh air around her was much needed. Things started to get much too stuffy in the bar.

Part of her wanted to take off the tall heels that are making her feet extremely uncomfortable, but she knows better than to walk around barefoot on the street so she powered through. She tugs her jacket closer to her chest, folding her arms over it to keep it in place. She’s only walking for about a minute and a half when she suddenly feels a strong chill cover her entire frame.

And it wasn’t from the wind.

The sound of heavy breathing fills her ears and she’s sober enough to know it’s not her own. Every part of her body is now on high alert. She continues walking, turning her head inconspicuously to see if she can get an image of anything out of her peripherals. Her breath hitches when she notices a tall, rather burly individual walking about ten paces behind her. She furrows her eyebrows, trying to see through the darkness. That’s when she realizes who it is.

It’s the same man they saw from when they walked into the bar. He had tried to talk to them when they originally walked in, but Demi was quick to shut it down so Y/N didn’t think anything of it. In fact, they all thought he left after the interaction.

Apparently he didn’t.

Y/N didn’t want to assume the worst. He might just be headed in the same direction, or maybe even going to the same hotel. But there’s this gut feeling she has that says believing the best isn’t the right move. Her hands become clammy and her stomach twists into painful knots. That’s when she knows there’s something wrong. Her body is warning her before something bad happens.

She keeps her pace, not wanting to alert the man behind her that she’s aware of his presence. Her breathing quickens but she tries to keep it under control. She doesn’t want him to hear her panicking because that might just make him strike faster.

Tears begin to brim at the corner of her eyes, Y/N silently cursing at herself for drinking. She always gets more emotional when she drinks. If she had just stayed at the bar– no, if she had just stayed with Phil, she wouldn’t be here. She wishes she had just stayed with him.

Y/N knows she could probably take down the man following her. It wouldn’t be easy, considering how large he looks, but she could do it… if she was fully sober. She’s not in her right mind, so engaging in a fight wouldn’t get her anywhere. It might just get her into more trouble. So she does the only thing she can think of.

Phil furrows his eyebrows as his phone rings in his lap. He sees Y/N’s name pop up and he becomes even more confused. Is she back? If so why wouldn’t she just text him?

“Kid, you better have some magical fucking energy drink to suck down for tomorrow ‘cause I’m still getting your ass up early to train,” he says jokingly, hoping to hear a drunk giggle come from her mouth. He might not drink, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t find her adorable when she is.

“Phil…” she whimpers , her voice cracking as she says his name.

The playful smile on his face disappears, replaced by worry and concern. His chest tightens and his fists clench. He’s never heard her say his name like that. So broken, scared almost. It puts him on edge more than he already is.

“Y/N…” he says carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Um– I– I don’t– I don’t know what to do,” she says in an urgent whisper. His heart breaks at the sound of her clearly holding back tears. “We were at the bar, and– and I just got really tired so I told them I wanted to leave. They wanted to come with me, but I told them no because they were still talking, so I convinced them to let me go alone, and then I started walking but then I felt like someone was following me so I tried to look and then I saw this guy…” she hiccups, trying to cover up a sob. “He tried to hit on us when we walked into the bar but Demi turned him down. But Phil… he’s behind me,” she says, terrified out of her mind. “I’ve been trying to act like I haven’t noticed him, but I think he’s catching on. He’s walking faster now.”

Phil sees red. He’s up and dressed within thirty seconds, grabbing his hotel key and rushing out the door. “Where the hell are you?” That’s the only question he has time to ask. He’s furious. She shouldn’t be walking back alone. But he doesn’t have time to be pissed at the fact she’s walking in the dark by herself, the only thing on his mind is making sure she makes it back to the hotel safely.

“I’m like two minutes away,” she tells him. He can feel his blood boiling as he hears her shuffling on the other side of the phone. Her breathing quickens and he can tell she’s moving faster now. “I just need to make it around the corner and I’ll be at the doors of the hotel. I can see it–”

“I’m on my way,” he says, voice stiff. Y/N can hear the ding of the elevator and suddenly his feet are pounding against the tile of the hotel lobby. “Don’t show fear. I’ll be right there.”

“Phil…” she whimpers again. “I’m so scared.”

He sighs, clenching his fists tightly. He needs her in his arms now. “I know, sweetheart. I’m comin’.”

All he knows is this is the absolute last time she goes out late without him there to protect her.

Out of nowhere he starts hearing her heels clicking against the pavement faster. She’s running. “Y/N?!” He shouts into the phone. “Hey, talk to me! What’s going on?”

“He’s coming!” She yells, her worried whisper now turned into a full fledged shriek. “Stay the hell away from me! No!”

Phil’s heart drops as he takes off at full speed, disregarding any vehicles coming into the parking lot. “Y/N?!” He screams.

Y/N rips her heels off her feet, knowing she’s not going to be able to out run the stranger like this. “Where you goin’ pretty girl?” The man’s voice slurs out as he starts sprinting after her much quicker. “I just wanna talk!”

“Stay the fuck away from me!” Y/N takes a risky move as she bends down to grab a large rock. She conceals it in her hand, stopping in her tracks. She can’t run. She won’t make it. So she has to do what she’s good at… Fight.

The man goes to say something else, but Y/N doesn’t even give him a chance. She chucks the rock at his face, nailing him perfectly on the forehead. There’s a loud thud when the stone connects, but due to his drunken state, it only seems to stun him for a moment. Suddenly his eyes transformed from that buzzed haze to something darker. Something much more predatory. Y/N’s heart rate spikes out of fear as he starts stalking forward again, much slower this time.

“You stupid bitch,” he growls lowly. “What’d you go and do that for? I said I just wanted to talk!” Suddenly hes lunging forward and his hand grips her wrist. Y/N reacted on instinct. She swung, her fist connecting solidly with his jaw. The impact sent a jolt up her arm, but he barely flinched.

Instead, he growled, his temper flaring. “Knock that shit off,” he spat, yanking her closer.

She struggled, twisting, her knee flying up to hit his groin, but he dodged at the last second. His hands roamed where they weren’t wanted, his grip bruising, and Y/N’s breath hitched—

Her phone hit the ground with a sharp clatter.

“Y/N?” Phil’s voice was still there, but now much more distant than she wishes it was. “Y/N, what’s happening?!”

“Maybe if your friend was a bit nicer to me at the bar, this wouldn’t be happening,” he whispers into Y/N’s ear as she continues to writhe against his hold. “I was just lookin’ for some company…” Y/N holds back a sob as he moves to smell the crook of her neck. “You weren’t my first choice, but I guess you’ll do.”

She grunted, wrestling against the man’s grip. “Get—off me—”

The sound of pounding footsteps sent a chill down her spine. But they weren’t coming from behind her.

They were coming toward her. Fast.

Before the drunk could react, Phil was there.

He didn’t hesitate. Phil’s fist crashed into the side of the guy’s face with a sickening crack, the force of it whipping his head sideways. The man barely had time to register the pain before Phil grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward and slamming his knee into his stomach. A strangled gasp left the guy as he doubled over, but Phil wasn’t done. He twisted, flipping the man onto the pavement with a heavy thud.

“You think you’re real tough?” Phil growled, towering over him. His voice was low, dangerous. “Putting your hands on someone who told you no?”

The guy groaned, trying to push himself up. Phil kicked his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling again. “Stay the fuck down.”

But the drunk wasn’t smart. He lunged, swinging wildly—

Phil caught his arm mid-swing, twisting it until the man howled. He drove his elbow into the guy’s face, snapping his head back against the pavement with a sharp crack. Blood trickled from his busted nose, his eyes dazed. Phil crouched down, gripping the front of his shirt and hauling him up just enough so their faces were inches apart.

“If I ever see you again,” he said, voice low and controlled, “I swear on my fucking life that they will not be able to identify your body when I’m done.”

The man whimpered, finally going limp. Phil shoved him back onto the ground and stood, breathing hard. He spun back around to see Y/N sitting on the floor, body shaking uncontrollably. Tears stain her cheeks as she stares at the scene in front of her. The strange man lies on the pavement, knocked out cold, blood being the only visible thing on his face. But that’s not what pulls her out of her daze. She sees Phil’s knuckles and it makes her eyes begin to water once more. They’re busted up and bruised. She knows he had to have done extensive damage to his hands with how hard he hit the man.

Phil bends down, grabbing Y/N’s phone for her before crouching down in front of the woman. He can still see a lingering fear in her eyes, and that nagging voice in his head makes him think that it might be him she’s scared of after that whole display, and the thought of that makes him sick to his stomach.

He watches as she opens her mouth to say something, but he stops her. He gently hooks his arms through hers, lifting her off the ground. “C’mon…” he says tenderly, holding her in his arms like an oversized teddy bear. “Let’s get you back.”

Y/N doesn’t know why, but her body reacts instinctively to his hold. Her legs wrap around his waist, arms securing themselves behind his neck. She buries her head into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in his comforting yet familiar sense as he carries her back towards the hotel.

She can practically hear the wheels spinning in his mind. He’s overthinking. She couldn’t blame him. Her mind was moving pretty quickly as well. All that transpired in the last fifteen minutes was traumatic for both of them. Y/N bites her lip, guilt flooding her system as she realizes that Phil heard everything. He heard the guy practically tackle her to the ground. He heard her screaming, fighting for her life.

Then she realizes she has more than that to feel guilty over. Her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as she remembers that she didn’t even thank him for coming to her rescue. She was just so stunned in that moment that she couldn’t even fathom saying anything. All she remembers was registering intermittent flashes of him beating the living crap out of the guy before it was suddenly over.

Then he turned to her, that soft gaze in his eyes. The one she’s noticed is reserved specially for her. But then it changed. He became self-conscious, unsure almost. It made her feel terrible for clinging onto him like this as he carries her into the lobby and over to the elevators. She couldn’t even tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t mad at him for what he did. She just sat in silence like an idiot. And yet he was still chivalrous enough to be her human chauffeur.

Before she could even process where they were, Phil stops walking. She doesn’t want to lift her head up. She doesn’t want to unwrap her legs. All she wants is to stay like this. Him holding her. It not only settles her hammering heart, but it quenches that desire she’s always had for him. That need to be more than just his friend. The “kid” he has always been protective over.

Phil doesn’t make a move to set her down. Instead he rubs her back softly, his mind still full of anger. Anger at the girls for letting her go, anger at Y/N for thinking it was a good idea to walk alone, anger at that dumb asshole he left bleeding out for even looking in Y/N’s direction, but most of all… anger at himself. He should’ve gone with her. He should’ve called. He should’ve gotten there faster when he heard that panic in her voice. He should’ve gone to protect her first instead of beating the guy senseless right in front of her. Y/N didn’t deserve to see that.

She probably hates him for subjecting her to that.

Obviously they’ve seen each other in the ring. But Y/N has never seen him lose his cool like that. He just didn’t know how to stop it. His body was on autopilot and his only mission was to get Y/N out of that situation.

He then realized they’ve been standing outside her hotel room for almost five minutes in complete silence. He reluctantly clears his throat, whispering, “We’re here, kid.”

Y/N exhales, managing to curl up into a smaller ball than she already was. Phil feels an odd warmth spread through his body as she clutches to him tighter, “I know,” she mumbles back quietly.

Phil swallows the lump in his throat, “Well, you should probably–”

“Don’t let me go,” she asks, no, pleads with him. Her voice is so small as she somehow manages to cling to him even tighter. “Please…” her face flushes red with embarrassment. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

He stops for a moment, his mind fully registering what she’s saying. He hesitates before finally speaking, “Do you want me to stay?” He asks gently.

She finally manages to lift her head up. Her e/c eyes are completely glossed over, her cheeks puffy from how much she had cried. Phil can see the small wet spot on his shoulder from the silent tears she shed on the way here, but he doesn’t care. In fact, it made him feel better knowing she felt safe enough to cry on him.

“Would you?” She looks him in the eye for a brief second before she loses her courage, eyes flickering down to the floor. “You don’t have to stay for the whole night if you don’t want to. I just– I don’t think I can go to sleep by myself. Not after–”

“Hey,” Phil stops her, setting her down on the floor as tenderly as possible. Y/N looks heartbroken for a moment before he lifts her chin up with his finger, gazing into her eyes. His lips curl into that soothing smile that she loves. The one where the dimple in his right cheek pops out, making his soft side more apparent. “I’ll stay. You don’t gotta give me an out. I’m here, Y/N/N. For as long as you need me.”

Y/N’s chin feels like it’s on fire from the gentleness of his touch. She blinks slowly, not finding it inside of her to break eye contact. She nods, reaching in her pocket in order to grab her room key. She fumbles for a moment, but manages to get her hands on it. She reluctantly turns around to open the door, her hand shaking as she goes to press it against the electronic lock. There’s a small whir and click that indicates it’s opened. The silence between them isn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it’s familiar. It eases her anxiety to know that he’s behind her, protecting her.

She feels the buzz that was once infiltrating her system slowly dissipating. Getting almost attacked is a great way to sober up. She’ll be sure to keep that one in the back of her mind for later.

Her room is relatively large, a king sized mattress in the middle of the room. The walls are adorned with basic paintings that brighten the dull brown of the wall. There’s a desk in the corner, her script for the show the following day strewn across it, different colors of highlighter covering it. There’s random pieces of her clothing thrown haphazardly on the chair in the corner of the room, even a few pair of shoes are carelessly tossed near the bathroom door. It makes Phil smile at how they had only been there for less than a day and she already managed to make her hotel room look lived-in.

Y/N fidgets with her hands as she stands near the bathroom. Her eyes sporadically moving from him to everything else in the room. “Um… you can sit down if you want,” she gestures to the bed. “I’m just gonna go change.”

Phil nods silently and Y/N continues staring at him for another elongated moment before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her open suitcase and disappearing into the bathroom. As soon as the door shuts, Phil exhales, collapsing onto the bed. He leans forward, his elbows digging into his thighs as he rubs his face frustratedly. Things aren’t weird between them, but they are certainly not normal. He tries not to overthink it, she did just go through something terrible, so her behavior is justified, but part of him feels like maybe there’s something deeper going on.

Looking in the mirror, Y/N can already see a small bruise forming oner her wrist and on her hip from where the man had grabbed her. She stares at the forming marks, her heart beating faster as she relives the moment in her head. If Phil hadn’t shown up when he did… she doesn’t know what would have happened. A flash of the man bloodied and knocked out on the pavement crosses her mind and she feels guilty, but she smiles softly at the thought. Not because he’s hurt, but because Phil was the one who did it. Y/N feels nothing but relief and gratitude for the way her best friend came to her defense, and it’s about time that she thanked him properly for it.

She walks out of the bathroom, her hands crossed over her stomach to block the visibility of the bruise on her her hip. Phil hears her, his posture straightening, but he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t know if he can face her without losing his mind again. There’s too many emotions swirling in his head for him to thing straight. Y/N can see the tension in his shoulders and she exhales sadly. She grabs a wash cloth from the cabinet in her room, walking back to the bathroom to wet it before finishing her journey to Phil. She sits down directly next to him, reaching out to grab his hands without saying a word.

His brows furrow as he feels her soft skin touch his own. Her hands are perfect. Small yet decorated with little calluses to show how often she lifts and how much work she puts in to have the career she does. He watches her as she carefully cleans his knuckles. She treats him like he’s a piece of glass in danger of breaking. Her lips part slightly as she continues to work across his hands gently. The dried blood disappears with every wipe. He winces slightly, sucking in a sharp breath as she presses a tad bit too hard on a sore spot.

“Sorry,” Y/N immediately rushes out, pulling the towel away. “Are you okay? Well, obviously you’re not okay, that was a dumb question, sorry.”

“Y/N…” he gets her attention, trying to prevent her from getting nervous enough to ramble. He tilts his head in an attempt to try and get her to look at him. His attempt was successful, Y/N not being able to fight looking at him anymore. “I’m okay.” He nods reassuringly, placing his hand on hers. He looks apprehensive to do so, but Y/N soothes his mind by lacing their fingers together, her eyes still tracing over his wounds. “Are you?” He asks gently, letting himself relax into her touch.

“No,” she says honestly before gazing into his eyes once more, “but I’d be a lot worse off if it wasn’t for you.”

His face falls and his anger rises as he thinks about what could have happened to her. He goes to clench his fist, but the way her finger brushes softly against his hands prevents him from doing so. After a moment, his anger dissipates into disappointment. Dissapointemtn in himself specifically. He sighs, closing his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N looks at him bewildered, “What?” She furrows her eyebrows in complete confusion, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I made you watch me beat the crap out of some douche bag,” he laughs but there is no humor behind it. It’s bitter, almost self-deprecating. “Instead of going straight to you like I should have and getting you out of there, I decided to sit there and throw punches,” he shakes his head. “I thought I had better control over myself… You didn’t deserve to see that.”

“Phil,” Y/N stops him, rapidly shaking her head. “You saved me,” she forces him to look at her, using the hand that isn’t holding his to turn his head towards her. “You don’t have to say sorry. You–” she stutters, trying to find the right words. “I– God,” she lets out a humorless laugh. “If anyone needs to be sorry it’s me.” He looks at her with a bewildered expression. She can see he’s about to protest, so she makes sure to finish her thoughts before he can. “I shouldn’t have walked alone. I should have called you or someone else here to come get me. Hell, even an Uber would’ve worked, but I didn’t.” She shakes her head as she dwells on her own foolishness. “And then instead of thanking you for protecting my stupid ass, I stare at you like a deer in the headlights, makin’ you think you did something wrong by protecting me.” She bites the inside of her cheek trying to fight off her frustration. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. Not the other way around.”

A small silence stretches between them. Y/N starts getting antsy once more, not knowing what to do with the silence. She rubs the pad of her finger over the veins on the back of his hand as a way to try and calm her rising anxieties. The only thing that brings her out of her thoughts is the small chuckle that rumbles through Phil’s chest. Her eyes snap back upward, a lost expression covering her face.

“You were pretty stupid for walking on your own,” he chastises with a playful smile.

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing his chest with no real bite behind it. She tries to keep an angry face, but she can’t help letting a laugh of her own out. “Hey, only I can say I’m stupid, not you.”

It felt nice to have such a lighthearted interaction. Perhaps it was a bit premature considering the weight of what happened still looms over them, but it was a nice reprieve. Even if it was only for a moment.

Phil loves watching her laugh. The way the crowd feet near her eyes become more prominent, the way her teeth manage to sparkle like a cheesy toothpaste commercial. She’s such a light in the world. His hand tightens ever so slightly around hers, like he’s trying to find a physical way to keep her tethered to him.

“You scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know that?” He mutters, his tone holding a much deeper emotion. One she’s not used to.

She lets out a deep breath, a small pout on her face. She leans down, resting her head on his chest as she scoots closer to him. Phil allows her to snuggle up to him, enjoying the feeling of her being near him. “I don’t mean to…” she tries to keep her yawn at bay, but it eventually slips past her lips. “I don’t try to find trouble, trouble finds me,” she says with a small grin.

“Hey, I’m being serious,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. It’s just a lot more gruff than gentle, not that she minds. She likes the small growl in his voice. He uses his other hand that’s not holding hers to rub up and down her arm. He watches as chills form on her skin as he rubs slow and steady strokes across the surface. ““You go running around on your own, get yourself into situations like that, and I’m supposed to just—what? Sit back and hope you’re okay?”

“You act like I’ve made it my mission in life to stress you out,” Y/N pokes his side, trying to lighten his mood. She doesn’t want him to be upset or worried anymore.

“At this point, I think you might have,” He quips back, his tone bordering on playful, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. He looks down at her, Y/N craning her neck up to meet his gaze, “Kid, I can’t—” He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to shake off a feeling he doesn’t want to admit to. “I don’t like thinking about what could happen to you. I see red when you’re not okay. And I’d do anything—anything—to make sure you’re safe.”

The weight of his words lingers in the space between them. It’s raw, unpolished—just like him.

Y/N exhales slowly, letting her fingers tighten slightly around his. There’s nothing playful in the way she looks at him now, no quips or teasing remarks. Just understanding. Phil doesn’t pull away. If anything, he holds on tighter. And for a while, neither of them speak. There’s no need to.

After a while, exhaustion starts to creep in. Y/N’s body grows heavier, her blinks slower, her head tilting just slightly as she nuzzles herself deeper into him. Her nose grazes the side of his neck, making his breath hitch. There’s a certain completeness having her this close. He tries to swallow the feelings blooming in his chest, but watching the way her eyes droop, he can’t help but admire her relaxed features.

Phil notices her exhaustion immediately. His protective instincts of her are second nature by now. “Alright, that’s enough excitement for one night,” he mutters, his tone softer but still firm. “You need to get some sleep.”

Y/N hums in protest but doesn’t argue as he helps her up, guiding her towards the head of the bed with that careful, steady touch of his. His arm is coiled around her waist as he pulls the blanket back, gently helping her lay down. He tugs the comforter over her, smoothing it down like it’s just another thing he can control.

Then he steps away, moving toward the chair across the room. He doesn’t plan on leaving her alone for the next few months, even if that means sleeping in uncomfortable hotel chairs. He’ll wait until she falls asleep before he can let himself relax. But before he can sit, Y/N shifts, pushing herself up on her elbows.

“Wait,” she says quickly, her voice a little smaller than before.

Phil pauses, turning back. “What?”

“Can you…” Her fingers twist in the blanket, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she forces herself to just say it. “Can you lay with me?”

Phil stills. His lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. “You sure?”

She nods. “Please.”

He exhales through his nose, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, alright,” he mutters, like it’s no big deal. Like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest.

He moves back to the bed, slipping beneath the covers on the other side. The second his body hits the mattress, Y/N shuffles over to him. He doesn’t stop her, wanting to feel her warmth just as much as she wants to feel his. Not that he’s going to admit it out loud. When she presses into his chest, everything in him settles. His arm drapes over her waist, pulling her in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Y/N exhales, relaxing against him, her fingers resting lightly against his chest.

A beat passes. Then another.

“You’re my hero, you know that?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

Phil huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta look out for you,” he mutters. But then he leans down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always come to your rescue,” he says, quieter this time. “Whenever you need me.”

And as Y/N drifts off in his arms, safe and secure, Phil lets himself believe that, for once, everything is exactly as it should be.

[onlyangel4]

onlyangel4 wwe masterlist.

hi there! i'm angel and it is lovely to meet you. below you will be able to find my wwe masterlist. a few notes before hand: this blog is 18+ minors DNI. each fic will have a list of content warning at the beginning of it. my requests are open (names tagged in this post are who i am most interested in writing for) !

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CM PUNK

the hardest bump- cm punk x wife!reader

synopsis: it was supposed to be just another match. but when you don’t get up, punk’s entire world shatters. now, with you fighting for your health, he’s fighting with himself , having to decide between wanting to keep you safe forever, or letting you chase the only dream you’ve ever known.

smile for the camera - cm punk x social media admin!reader

synopsis: the brand new quirky social media admin should get on cm punk's nerves, however he can't help but find her a breath of fresh air.

always been there - toxic!roman reigns x reader. cm punk x reader.

part two //part three // part four // part five // part six // part seven // part eight // part nine

synopsis: you and punk have been best friends (with undeniable tension) for years, but you’re in a long-term relationship with roman reigns. when that relationship turns toxic, punk is forced to watch from the sidelines, helpless as you start fading, losing yourself piece by piece. the night you finally break free, he’s the one who picks up the pieces.

life in the fast lane - cm punk x f1!driver reader

synopsis: world's collide when you start dating wwe superstar cm punk. and when it finally comes public you break the internet.

bring your boyfriend to work day - cm punk x f1!driver reader

synopsis: taking cm punk to an f1 race seemed like a good idea, up until some of the driver's turn into fanboys

going soft- cm punk x girlfriend!reader

synopsis: when punk goes on a podcast the whole world finds out just how soft he is for his girlfriend.

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CODY RHODES

slip of the tongue - cody rhodes x tattoo artist wife!reader

synopsis: after a slip of the tongue the wrestling community is shocked to find out that cody has a family, but there had been clues all along.

the next chapter - cody rhodes x pregnant!reader

synopsis: both you and cody are looking forward to being parents and an unexpected moment with a young fan gives you a glimpse into the future.

red white and ruin - part one // part two // part three // part four // part five// part six // part seven

dark!cody rhodes x make up artist!reader.

synopsis: on the surface, cody is everything clean-cut. honour, legacy, gold. but you saw the mask slip once, and now you can’t unsee it. he wants you because you see him, the ambition, the darkness, the violence under the white light. and when he decides you’re going to be his, he wraps you in red, white, and ruin.

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DAMIAN PRIEST

better deal - damian priest x ex aew wrestler!reader

synopsis: when aew's brightest rising star leaves the company people are left wondering why. but then she shows up on smackdown and all questions and answered.

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DREW MCINTRYE

booking of the century - drew mcintyre x returning!reader. part two // part three // part four // part five

triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

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DOMINIK MYSTERIO

baby fever - dominik mysterio x wife! reader

after winning the tag titles alongside becky lynch you attend the press conference. joined by a very special guest, roux. and in that moment you realise that you are ready to think about having kids. and when your boyfriend finds out about this he is over the moon.

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GRAYSON WALLER

whirlwind- grayson waller x alpha academy!reader

when you get called up to the main roster to tag team with maxxine dupri, the last thing you expected was to get caught up with grayson waller and in the space of a year your life changes in the best way possible.

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JIMMY USO

who is that - jimmy uso x actress!reader

when the internet decides that you and jimmy uso are dating you correct them immediately telling them you are single, putting you on jimmy's radar. what started out as a paparazzi lie for clicks and views turns into something else as you and jimmy get to know each other better.

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KARRION KROSS

on his radar (mature)- dark!karrion kross x reader

synopsis: as the shiny knew toy transferred from tna the raw locker room are desperate to get to know you, only to find out that you despite your in ring skill outside of work you are rather quiet and reserved. a lot of your new co worker's decided to give you space. but karrion kross craves closeness.

part two // part three

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LA KNIGHT

espresso - la knight x singer reader. part two

a favour for a friend turns into so much more

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LIV MORGAN

number 30 - liv morgan x diva era!reader

ten years ago you were on top of the woman's roster. the must see name. a world champion. but an injury caused you to have to give that up. now you are cleared enough to appear at the royal rumble and coach on lfg. in doing so you get particularly close with one liv morgan. confusing the internet because you are the biggest babyface the wwe has ever seen.

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RHEA RIPLEY

match my vibe - rhea ripley x singer!reader

watch as online mutuals become closer and closer before finally deciding to take it off the internet and into the real world.

manic pixie dreamgirl - rhea ripley x girlfriend!reader

as the wwe's newest face you bring something the company has never seen before. it is even more shocking when they find out your relationship with rhea and as the fans get to know you they find out that you and rhea are complete opposites. but you work so well.

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ROMAN REIGNS

picking up the broken pieces - roman reigns x reader.

part two // part three // part four // part five // part six

after your world turns upside down overnight, roman is there to help you put the pieces back together.

in your corner (mature) - roman reigns x reader

you were cm punk’s sister. you were supposed to stay away from roman reigns. but what started as backstage tension turned into more and when things bubble over between your brother and roman, you are left not knowing what to do.

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SETH ROLLINS

better than any win - seth rollins x actress!reader

synopsis: when seth drops that he has a girlfriend. no one expects it to be hollywood's golden girl.

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TAMA TONGA

the rhode not taken - tama tonga x rhones!reader

bring your sister to work day backfires for one cody rhodes

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MULTI PERSON FICS

brains of the operation- feat. cm punk, drew mcintyre, cody rhodes, jimmy uso, la knight and jacob fatu

synopsis: everyone thinks your partner is great on the mic, he is but he does get a little help (texts)

[chloe-skywalker]

Could Be? - Jay Halstead

Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader Severide

Warnings: none

Word count: 766

Summary: Jay’s never met Serveirses sister, maybe its because she travels for work so often. But maybe they hadn’t met yet for a reason. Maybe it hadn’t been the right time till now.

Authors Note: You never see a woman wrestler as a job for the reader and I’m a big fan of AEW so I put some of that in this story.

Masterlist

One Chicago Masterlist

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“Hey Herrmann.” Jay greeted as he approached the firefighter. It was rare when the FD and the PD could get together but this giant cook out for both departments was a great way to get together.

“What's up Halstead?” Herrmann answered with a smile.

Jay was looking around and he had noticed a woman he’s never seen before with Kelly. Who better to ask than Herrmann. “Who’s that over there with Severide?”

“Y/n?” Herrmann furrowed his brows, why’d he want to know that? Then again Jay was a friendly guy and probably hadn’t met her yet. “Severide's sister Y/n. Well half sister but their mom’s let the two grow up seeing each other all the time. Essentially they grew up together. They're close.”

“Thank’s.” Jay nodd’s in gratitude as Herrmann got dragged away by one of his kids.

“Dude this could be a bad idea.” Kevin shook his head already sure of what Jay was thinking. Kevin and Adam had been nearby and heard Jay talking to Herrmann, so once the firefighter left they approached their buddy.

“Could be?” Adam raised a brow in question.

“It’s Severide's sister.” Kevin clarifies as if it should be obvious.

“She could be worth it.” Adam shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of his beer.

“Who could be worth it?” Hailey questioned as her and Kim walked up to the guys.

“Severide's sister.” Kevin tell’s the women, catching them up.

“You should at least try.” Kim shrugged her shoulders.

“Thank you ladies.” Jay smiled at them before heading over towards Kelly and his apparent sister.

“Hey Jay.” Kelly nodded in greeting.

“Severide. Who’s this?” he asked, smiling.

“Y/n Jay Halstead, Jay Halstead Y/n Severide Y/l/n. My sister.” Kelly introduced his sister to the detective.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/n smiled, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you to. Didn’t know Kelly had a sister.” Jay smiled, shaking her hand.

“I travel a lot for work.” Y/n nodded as she gave her explanation.

“I’m gonna go grab a burger.” Kelly stated leaking the two to get acquainted.

“What do you do for work?” Jay asked, trying to get to know her better.

“Professional Wrestler.” Y/n answered with a smirk.

“Like WWE?” he raised a brow in shock.

Y/n shook her head and scoffed. “No, that's not professional wrestling, that's sports entertainment. The outcome, move’s pulled in the ring and words they say. All scripted… No, I'm with AEW. Real professional wrestling.”

“I’ll have to watch sometime.” Jay smiled at how passionately she talked about her job.

“Maybe you can come and see it in person sometime.” Y/n offered shyly.

“It’s a date.” Jay stated obviously hinting at the fact he was interested in her.

“Well the date would have to be after or before.” Y/n glanced at him.

“Fine by me.” Jay smirked.

Y/n nodded and then looked him up and down and smirked herself. “And let me guess ex-military and now law enforcement.”

“Damn spot on guess.” Jay answered, looking at her impressed and shocked.

“Well it’s not hard to tell your ex-military but it’s easy to see you're not a firefighter. And this is for firefighters and law enforcement plus their families.” Y/n laughed at his facial expression.

“Detective.” Jay told her to stepping closer to her.

“You work under Voight.” Y/n came to the conclusion.

“The one and only. You have a beef with him to?” Jay asked, really hoping she didn’t.

“Not personally. Only backing up Casey. But that’s been settled.” Y/n tells him with a shake of her head in a ‘no’ motion.

Meanwhile some of 51 and Voights team were watching from afar.

“Are you letting Halstead chat up your sister?” Herrmann raised a brow as he questioned the squad leader, confused and slightly concerned. Concerned for Halstead.

“No harm in them just talking.” Kelly shrugged.

“It’s more than that.” Adam laughed

“I noticed. But as long as he doesn’t hurt her I don’t have a problem with it.” Kelly told them taking a sip of his beer.

“You have a problem with anyone else aksing her out on a date.” Cruz looked at him with squinted eye’s judgingly.

“Not me.” Casey smirked, tilting his head, looking all innocent.

“Yeah well you're the exception.” Kelly shrugged and nudged Casey’s shoulder.

“What about Halstead?” Mouch asked.

“We’ll see.” Kelly watched Y/n and Jay closely. He’d be the first one to step in if he didn’t like anything Jay did. Y/n’s his sister, you don’t mess with his sister.

Taglists: @padawancat97

[usomads]

Dripping // Will Ospreay x Reader

Author’s Note -> Been sitting on this idea for a while but I moved states so I had to put it on pause– figured I’d use it as a little bit of a palate cleanser before jumping into more requests! And who better than my fav 🥰 first AEW one shot too! Lmk what you think and, as always, happy reading! 🙂‍↕️

Pairings -> Will Ospreay x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Slight angst, Blood play, Nipple Play, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.6k

‼️Trigger Warning: Blood‼️

You were snapped out of your trance by Will slamming open the locker room door, the sharp sound echoing through the halls of the backstage area. His face is a mess of dried blood and sweat, a nasty cut on his temple leaking fresh crimson. His chest rises and falls with labored breaths and his hair is damp with a mixture of sweat and blood, clinging to his forehead in wild curls. You’ve been waiting in his locker room to tend to him, first aid kit in hand, but the intensity radiating from the man freezes you where you stand.

He brushes past you, throwing a blood-stained towel onto the bench with a frustrated sigh. You can’t help but watch as he rakes his fingers through his hair, his movements sharp. Every muscle in his body is taut, his frustration from his match practically radiating off of him. You attempt to speak but before you can do that he spins around, his piercing eyes locking onto you.

“You just going to stand there?” he snaps, his voice low and full of grit.

You swallow hard, clutching the first aid kit tightly. The air feels thick, his anger palpable, yet despite the warning in his tone you’re drawn to him. Maybe even because of it.

“I came to check on you,” you manage to say, your voice softer than intended. His eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath his anger– curiosity, or maybe, challenge.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he growls, turning away from you to grab the towel again. He roughly wipes at his face, but all it does is smear the blood further, leaving streaks of red down his cheeks and neck.

“Doesn’t look like it,” you reply, surprising yourself with the firmness in your tone. You set down the first-aid kit and cross the room to him, stopping just out of arm's reach. He stiffens, but doesn’t move away.

Up close, you notice every detail: the bruises forming along his knuckles, the tension in his jaw as he grits his teeth, the way his chest heaves with every breath. The blood on his face only sharpens his already striking features, and the raw energy radiating from him sends a shiver down your spine. 

“You’re gonna need stitches, Will,” you say, pointing to the gash on his temple.

“I said I’m fine,” he snaps again, though his voice lacks the same venom as before. He turns to face you fully, his green eyes locking onto yours. “Why are you still here?”

You hesitate, searching for the right words, but all you can think about is how disheveled and angry and utterly captivating he looks. Against all rhyme and reason, the sight of him like this– raw, unguarded– sparks something within you.

“Maybe because you look like you could use someone who isn’t scared to tell you the truth,” you respond, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

He blinks hard, caught off guard for a moment, before a smirk tugs at his lips– a sharp, dangerous thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he challenges.

You nod, stepping closer. “Yeah.. and the truth is, you’re an absolute fuckin’ mess, but…” Your eyes linger on the blood streaked across his face, your pulse racing as you meet his gaze once more. “It suits you.”

For a moment his anger dissipates, replaced by something darker– something more calculated. His eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The air between you feels electric, the tension sharp enough to cut through.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with warning. “You might not like where that talk gets you.”

You swallow hard but hold your ground. “Maybe I do,” you say, the words out before you can stop yourself.

His smirk deepens and, for a moment, the frustration and exhaustion in his posture seems to melt away, replaced by pure intrigue. He steps closer, close enough that you can feel his heat radiating off of him, and tilts his head slightly. The cut on his forehead is still bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to notice– or care.

“Is that so?” he retorts, his voice a low rumble. His hand twitches at his side, almost like he’s debating whether or not to close the distance.

You don’t flinch, your eyes never leaving his. “It is.”

Neither of you move. The tension is thick, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, as if to test you, he leans in, his voice dropping lower.

“You’re playing with fire, love,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. 

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Maybe I like the burn.” 

For the first time since he stormed in, his gaze softens, just slightly, and the corners of his mouth twitch in what might almost be a real smile. The anger in his eyes has faded, replaced by something more complex– something that feels like a reward and a challenge all at once.

“You’re something else,” he mutters, shaking his head slightly as he finally takes a step back and sits on the bench. But the way his eyes linger tells you he’s far from dismissing you.

As he grabs the towel again and starts wiping at his face, you silently grab the first-aid kit from the counter. He doesn’t stop you this time as you step forward, your fingers brushing against his hand as you take the towel away.

“Let me,” you whisper softly, and for once, he doesn’t argue.

He glances up, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you thought you saw something soften, but then his jaw tightened and he leaned back, gesturing to his face. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

You stepped closer, tilting his chin slightly to get a better look at the wound. The proximity makes your breath hitch– he was even more striking this close, his intensity nearly overwhelming.

“This might sting,” you warn, dabbing a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic on the cut.

He hissed through his teeth, his hand twitching before gripping the edge of the bench. “Bloody hell, Y/N, you trying to kill me?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t be dramatic. You’ve been through worse.”

His gaze flicked to you, a hint of amusement breaking through. “You’ve been watching my matches, then?”

You falter for a moment, the teasing in his voice catching you off guard. “It’s part of the job,” you reply, focusing on cleaning the wound to avoid his eyes.

“Right,” he drawled, his tone dripping with skepticism. “And I’m guessing you just happened to be watching tonight?”

Your cheeks heat up, but you keep your composure. “Like I said, it’s my job.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”

“Hiding what?” you asked, feigning ignorance as you reached for the bandages.

“The way you’re looking at me,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Like you don’t know whether to patch me up or pin me down.”

Your hand freezes mid-air, his words sending a jolt of electricity through you. You glanced over at him, meeting his gaze, and found his smirk snugly in place. The anger he’d walked in with had been replaced by something smug, something dangerous. 

“Careful, Will,” you tease, trying to keep your voice steady as you press gauze on his cut. “You’re not as charming as you think.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward just enough to close the distance between you. “Is that right? Because judging by the color of your cheeks, I’d say I’m doing alright.”

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to back down. “You should save that energy for the ring,” you shoot back, your voice tinged with amusement.

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face. “Why waste it on a crowd when I’ve got you right here?” 

The air between you cracked with tension, the lines of professionalism blurring with every passing second. You step back slightly, needing space to catch your breath, but he didn’t let you off the hook so easily. 

“You’re good at this,” he says, nodding towards your handiwork. “But I can’t tell if you’re more interested in fixing me up or staring me down.”

“Maybe both,” you say before you can stop yourself, the words slipping out in a moment of boldness.

His eyes darkened, the teasing smile on his lips turning into something more serious. “You’ve got a dangerous mouth on you, don’t you, love?”

“Only when it’s deserved,” you reply, your voice soft but steady.

He stood to his feet, towering over you, his presence making the room feel smaller. “And do I deserve it?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken intent. You didn’t answer– not with words, anyway. Instead, you let the tension carry you forward, your hand brushing against his chest as you tilt your head up.

His lips were on yours before you could think twice, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as the world around you disappears. Your professionalism, your carefully crafted boundaries– all of it melted away in the heat of the moment.

When you finally break apart, your breath comes in short gasps, and his forehead rests against yours.

“Still think I’m not as charming as I think?” he murmured, his voice low.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw– a small amount of his blood collecting on your index finger. You gaze into his eyes as you bring your finger to your lips, the metallic taste hitting your tongue and drawing a low moan from your throat. “You’re getting there.”

He bites his lip at you, his eyes darkening as he watches you suck on your fingers. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

His lips are back on yours in an instant, pulling you into him by your hips as he walks with you to the bench, sitting back down as you climb on top of him. You pull apart again and run your fingers through his sweat and blood clad strands, watching as the cut continues to ooze droplets of fresh crimson.

“You’re still bleeding, Will,” you whisper against his lips.

“You gonna clean me up then, love?” his eyes glimmer up at you, watching you closely as if to dare you to make a move.

And you do, bringing your lips to his temple and pressing a soft kiss to the wound, a low growl emanating from his throat. Your tongue pokes past your lips and licks a stripe along the cut, collecting the liquid on your tastebuds and pulling back, licking the excess off your lips. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re trouble,” he moans.

“What, can’t handle me?” you smirk at him, cheeks flushed and blood stained on your lips.

“Oh, I can do more than that, love.” he teases.

“Then prove it.” you murmur as you connect your lips once more, moaning into the kiss as his bruised hands ravage your body, digging into your sides as he rocks your hips against his cloth-covered bulge. He hisses at the contact, his lips falling below your ear to nip the sensitive skin, his heavy pants along your earlobe sending chills throughout your body. Your hands move from their resting place on his shoulders to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from him and lifting the material over your head before discarding it somewhere across the room. His hands trail up your spine as he takes you in, his fingers toying with the clasps of your bra before removing it and tossing it to the side. 

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ stunning, Y/N.” His eyes take in your exposed chest and torso, committing the image of you to his memory– the smooth skin of your chest and the way it rises and falls with each breath, your perfectly shaped breasts, even your hardened nipples all being permanently ingrained in his mind. He finds himself gravitated to you, his lips finding the skin along your collarbone and pressing firm kisses to the area– trailing downward to your breasts. His eyes find yours, glazed over in lust, before abruptly wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking hard on the bud. A whispered curse falls from your lips as you arch into his touch, your hips involuntarily grinding into his. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he groans– while continuing to suck and bite your skin.

Your hands tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the strands as he gives your other nipple some much needed attention– alternating motions of licking, sucking, biting. Before long he’s attempting to flip you over onto your back, but you stop him.

“Let me take care of you, Will. Please..” you whisper against him. He pulls away from your breasts, pressing his forehead against yours.

“And how might you go about doing that?” he asks, but rather than answering his question with words you respond with actions– climbing off of his lap and falling to your knees in front of him, bringing your hands to his thighs and running your fingers slowly over the material. He gets your hint, chuckling darkly at you below him before removing his pants and boxers– his cock springing free and hitting his stomach. You lick your lips at the sight of him before you; he was very well kept, little to no hair along the base leading to a long and thick shaft with prominent veins, which trailed up to his tip– pink and glossy in his arousal. 

“Go on then, love,” he coaxes you, forcing you to look up at him through your lashes, “take care of me.” You nod, wrapping your fingers around him, leaning down to press your lips to his tip with a soft kiss and collecting his precum on your tongue before replacing it with your spit– using your hand to lubricate the rest of his cock, pumping him before wrapping your lips around him. He hisses, throwing his head back and placing a hand on your cheek and watching as your lips hollow around him. You suck on the tip, giving kitten licks to the sensitive head as you do, while he curses under his breath and his hand gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail– guiding your head further down his cock.

You make eye contact with him as your mouth goes further down his shaft, your eyes beginning to water the further down you go. He guides you, helping you bob your head on his length as you continue hollowing your cheeks on him and dragging your tongue along the veins of his cock.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re so fuckin’ good at this…” he moans out loud, giving you the confidence to relax your jaw and take him in your throat. He grunts as the tightness of your throat squeezes his cock, his hips involuntarily bucking in your mouth. Tears slowly stream down your cheeks as you take him, gagging occasionally on his cock as he fucks your throat. You look up at him once more, eyes watery, as he watches his cock slide in and out of your throat.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re fucking incredible, baby. Taking me so well.” he groans as you come up for air, stroking him as you move to his balls, sucking them and taking them in your mouth. Your thighs squeeze together at his words, feeling your own arousal pooling in your panties as you pleasure him. He notices, however, and brings a hand to your chin– lifting your head up to look at him.

“It’s my turn, love. Come lay down for me, yeah?” You rise to your feet, climbing back on top of him and kissing him, the taste of him still sitting on your tongue. He flips the two of you, your back laying on the bench as he positions himself between your thighs and hooking his calloused fingers in the waistband of your leggings, pulling both your leggings and panties off of you in one motion. Your pussy glitters before him, soaking wet in your need for him and dripping off your thighs. 

“Bloody hell, you’re fuckin’ soaked, love. Who did all this, hmm?” he teases.

“Will, please–”

“Uh, uh, answer me, Y/N...” he threatens gently.

���Fuck, Will… you did. Now plea–” A gasp from your throat interrupts you as Will licks a stripe along your folds, groaning as he tastes your wetness.

“So fuckin’ sweet…” he murmurs, placing wet kisses along your opening and up towards your clit, now red and swollen– begging to be touched. His lips wrap harshly around the bud, using his tongue to play with it as his fingers dipped into your folds and teased your entrance. He gently pushes two inside, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels your walls squeeze around them, thrusting deep inside you– curling his fingers enough to brush lightly against your g-spot, making your eyes squeeze shut and the fingers that were again tangled in his hair to gently pull.

“F–fuck, Will… I–”

“Yeah? Feels good, hmm?”

“Mmm, please…”

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you need, baby.” he mutters against you.

“F–fuck me, p–please…” you whined, “I– I need you.”

Will doesn’t hesitate, lifting his head and pulling his fingers out of you, cleaning them with his tongue as he climbs on top of you. His hand grips the base of his cock and teases your entrance, watching your brows furrow as you whimper underneath him– begging him to do something, anything. 

“I’m gonna absolutely fucking ruin you, Y/N.” he whispers.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you whisper back.

His cock pushes inside you, his length stretching you gloriously. You gasp loudly as he goes deeper, bottoming out inside you as you adjust to his size. He pulls out enough to leave just the tip inside, slamming back into you and gradually increasing his thrusts. The bench creaks underneath you as he gets faster and faster, but it’s the last thing on your mind as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“So… fucking… tight” he grunts with each thrust, your moans matching his as he fucks you. He throws one leg over his shoulder and pounds you hard, the new angle allowing the tip of his cock to directly hit your g-spot over and over again.

You can’t control the moans and cries falling from your lips, the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the right ways making you spiral out of control. You are at his mercy, at his will, and there is nothing you can do about it.

You feel something fall onto your cheek, causing you to come back to reality for a second as you look up at him and notice the gash on his forehead is still dripping blood– less than before, but still bleeding nonetheless. He notices too, watching as his blood drips onto your face and stains your skin. He brings his head to your cheek, licking it clean and locking your lips once more, allowing you to taste him on his tongue before pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re all mine, understand? Got my blood on your tongue, blood on your face, and now I’m gonna fill this pretty cunt full of my cum…” he grunts in your ear, his hips snapping into yours at a dangerously delicious pace, “I’m going to consume you, love. Tell me who you fucking belong to, Y/N.”

“Y–you, Will. I’m yours, I– oh fuckkk…”

“I feel you, baby… you’re close, huh?” You moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders, making him hiss.

“I’ve got you.. go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” With one last thrust you tighten around him, your vision turning white as you cry out, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you coat his cock in your juices. He follows you, releasing himself inside you with a groan, filling you completely. For a few moments you both lay there, his body on top of yours, soaking in the ecstasy of your respective orgasms as you collect yourselves until he reluctantly pulls out of you– the mixture of yours and his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy. The two of you are still trying to steady your breathing, feeling rocked after what just happened. After a moment, you regain the ability to speak.

“Will...” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Are you finally gonna let me clean that cut now?”

He chuckles, looking at you laid in front of him with a gleam in his eye. 

“Alright, alright, fine. Patch me up, love,” he smiles, “But if I get to fuck you like that every time, don’t be surprised if I start doing this,” he gestures to the cut on his forehead, “on purpose.”

You laugh, shaking your head at him while getting up off the bench and walking to grab the first aid kit– but not before getting a harsh smack to your ass. You gasp, turning around to face him as he puts his hands up in surrender.

“What?” he laughs, “I never said I was gonna make it easy for you.” He winks, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back in to straddle his lap. God, this is going to be a long night.

[the-kipsabian]

The Kip & Sammy Show (but its mostly just kip) - Episode 1

[riptides-n-roses]

pet - jon moxley (18+)

⛧ pair: jon moxley x reader

⛧ tags: @93pallom (tagging my irl friend because i promised them i would write one of mox) @cyberdejos2

⛧ warnings: dom! jon, jon with a daddy kink, oral (m! receiving), masturbating, unprotected p in v, cre@mp!e, degrading, spankings, love marks, y/n wearing a collar, petnames (kitten,daddy), aftercare

⛧ i bet $5 he is rough as fuck when it comes to sex but is a total sweetheart during aftercare; i don't watch aew as much but i definitely need to; also he's the reason i have an older men kink - I love writing about c0wg!rl position. It's too hot

⛧ no plot - just literally straight up p0rn (i wanted to try something new)

⛧ word count: 1.4K

“Come here, kitten.” You felt the roughness of Jon’s voice as he motioned you to come to him, as you crawled on all fours to him. His lustful stare made your pussy throb as he pat his leg, making you take your seat on his lap. Jon groped your ass cheeks, feeling himself get hard.

“Daddy had a rough day today. Do you know what that means?”

You gasped as he left a harsh slap on your ass. Jon loved when you fall submissive to his touch. His calloused fingers tracing the lining of your pink panties.

“Y-Yes…” You began to speak, feeling his hand make their way to your throbbing wet clit.

“Yes, what. Use your words, slut.” His words were full of hunger as he slid his fingers up and down on your clit, making you whine for more.

“Yes…D-Daddy.”

“That’s my good little kitten.”

Jon held you tightly as his mouth pressed onto yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. His other hand still playing with your clit. You loved when Jon played with you. He made sure you always gotten to cum before he did. He always played nice with you even while he humiliated you with his degrading, leaving marks on your body so everyone knew you were his and only his to play with. No one else could touch you like he could. No one could fuck you the way he does.

You felt your legs shake as his fingers went faster on your clit, your muffled moans while his tongue was swirling with yours was enough to drive you crazy. Jon finally pulled away, a trail of spit leaving his lips, His fingers stop playing with your clit.

“Take them off, kitten” Without hesitation, you removed your pink laced bra, revealing your breasts. You got off his lap, to take off your matching panties, the cold air making your nipples harden and your clit throb. Jon smirked, admiring your naked body.

“Good kitten. Now, give daddy some lovin’ ”

You knew what he meant by that and took off his pants along with his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock. You loved how thick it was, how it always filled you up. You got on your knees and you gently kissed the tip - making Jon patiently waiting for you to make another move.

After a few kisses, you slid a few inches of his cock in your mouth, bopping your head up and down slowly, your eyes never leaving his ocean blues. He laid his head back, eyes rolling up and grabbed some of your hair.

"Fuck, kitten" He growled, pushing your head down his shaft. You gagged feeling his tip touch your throat, his whole length now in your mouth. You gagged from how rough his thrusts were, his tip always hitting your throat. Small tears formed in your eyes as you were still trying to get used to his massive size - your pussy throbbed from his grunts.

"Look at you. Taking every inch of my cock. You're a dirty little slut, aren't you?" He cooed, his other hand roughly cupping your face seeing your ruined face. "Play with yourself, kitten." He ordered - you didn't want to disobey him and he watched as you took your hand to your clit, chuckling as you winced from the sensation.

"Good girl. You're such a good little girl"

His grip tightened on your hair, as you gagged and moaned from his thrusts, your hand rubbing faster on your clit, your fingers touching your pearl. Jon never broke eye contact as he watched you make a mess all over his cock.

"You're gonna cum, baby? You want daddy to make you cum? Hmm?"

His words made you whimper as you were getting close, feeling your stomach tighten - You were trying to nod while sucking him off.

"C'mon, baby. Cum for daddy. Be a good little slut for me" He ordered, his grip on your face getting tighter.

You let out a high pitched moan as you hit your orgasm, he followed with a loud groan, his warm cum going down your throat.

"Swallow every drop."

You made sure to swallow his cum - he gently ripped his cock out of your mouth. You panted as you looked up at him - your face warm from his grip and your tongue being out.

"Good girl. You know what's next don't you?"

"Y-yes daddy..."

Jon smirked and stood up, going to a drawer. He opened it and picked up a pink leather collar with a matching leash. He admired it for a second before walking back to where you were.

"Stand up, baby"

You got up and willingly lifted your head up as he put the collar on your neck and locked it in place, attaching the leash onto it. He cupped your face, admiring how you looked. He burrowed his face in the crook of your neck, sucking on a piece of your skin really hard, leaving a mark. You moaned feeling his teeth bite into your flesh - you loved when he marked you.

"You look so beautiful, kitten. But you know I'm not done with you yet."

You were waiting for his next move as he grabbed the handle of the leash, making you follow him to the bed.

Jon sat down on the edge, pulling you on top of him again, aligning his cock against your clit. You gasped feeling him grind against you - his free hand gripped against your side. You whined feeling his tip slowly push into you - your whines getting louder as he pushed his whole length into you.

"Daddy..." you whimpered, your legs feeling like jello.

"I know kitten." He groaned as he tightened his grip on your side. "You're doing so good baby."

You started to bounce on his cock, your arms around him and your foreheads touching. He loved the sight of you melting from riding him - he loved watching your eyes roll back. God, he loved when you did that.

"Good girl...fuck baby I can never get enough of you." He growled, shoving his face into your chest, kissing and biting on your breast. You moaned feeling his teeth all over your chest - he made sure to leave visible marks all over you, reminding everyone that you were his. His kitten. His pet.

"Mine" He chuckled, releasing his grip and wrapping his arm around you, thrusting roughly into you.

"Oh my God~" you whimpered "Please...keep going...right there!"

"You like that, kitten? Hm? Want daddy to make a mess out of you? Answer me, slut"

You cried, digging your nails into him.

"Answer me."

"Yes daddy! Make a mess out of me...make me your slut."

"Yes baby...you're my slut. No one else can have you. You're all mine."

His thrusts gotten faster, leaving you a moaning mess - your stomach began to tighten. You winced in pain everytime he left a harsh slap across your ass.

"More?" He cooed.

He laid back, letting go of his grip on the leash and wrapped his arms around your body, thrusting disgustingly fast and rough. You screamed into his neck, biting him hard.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum daddy. Please let me. Please" you begged, your stomach getting tighter.

"Cum for daddy, baby. Cum like the slut you are"

His approval made you scream as you came all over his cock, you felt your legs shake as he kept thrusting roughly into you.

"Fuck baby. You're such a good little slut..." he groaned, he was feeling himself get close.

"Oh fuck! Fuck...daddy...you feel so good daddy" you were sobbing from being overstimulated, feeling his tip hitting your spot as you started shaking.

"Fuck you're so cute, baby...I'm gonna cum in your pretty cunt. Are you ready?"

You nodded to his words - bouncing on his cock, fucking him back.

"Fuck...baby. I'm about to cum."

He groaned loud as he burst his seed into you, his cum leaking out of your pussy. You moaned as he held you tightly riding out his orgasm.

You stayed in his arms, holding him close to you.

"Come here baby"

You pressed your lips against his, leaving steamy kisses all over. You loved how gentle he was with you. He always took good care of you after having some rough sex. You felt his cock still throb in you he played with your hair.

"You did so good. Daddy's so proud of you." Jon praised, his hand stroking parts of your body. "Do you want to play some more later?"

"Yes daddy" you giggled. He smiled to your word and kissed you again.

"Let's get you fixed up before that. I'll treat you to some dinner and ice cream. I know you would like that." He offered.

"Of course, daddy! I would love that."

"Good." He chuckled leaving another kiss on your cheek.

"My kitten."

[totallyboatless]

I didn’t start watching AEW until this year, and so I’ve only experienced the Kyle O’Reilly who came back and told the Undisputed Kingdom that he wanted to make it on his own.

And for a while I didn’t know how to connect with him, beyond making jokes that he has the biggest, saddest, wettest eyes I’ve ever seen outside of a cartoon or my cat Gravy when she thinks it’s been 5 days since the autofeeder went off.

It’s not that I didn’t like him, I just didn’t *get* him.

Until he became Mark Briscoe’s biggest fanboy. Until he joined the Conglomeration. Until I started to realize that Kyle is a hype man, the enabler friend (for good and bad), the guy that sees an outrageous person and says “i would follow that man anywhere” (for good and bad). A little bit of a himbo, but in a way that he leans into to make himself laugh. He gives me the impression that he’s the kind of guy who, after a couple drinks, would become the biggest, loudest fan for every single person who gets on stage to sing karaoke, even if he’s never met them.

What I’m saying is, for me, Kyle O’Reilly has become the most relatable man on television.

[malakaie]

had some feelings to write out – for/about @tommyend, no pressure at all to respond

I started watching wrestling – specifically, AEW – in late October 2023. It’s been just over a year since I started watching, and I didn’t expect it to consume as much of my brain-space as it has. When I started watching, I didn’t really know who anyone was. I had heard a few names – Randy Orton, CM Punk, Jade Cargill, Roman Reigns – but had no real concept of the landscape I was entering or what it would mean to get invested.

Truthfully, it was a little overwhelming, and there was more I didn’t understand than I did. In those first few weeks, I received one very helpful piece of advice: don’t try to understand everything. Find a wrestler or two whose vibe you like and stick with them – the rest will click into place eventually, or it won’t, and either way is fine.

And so I did. I think it was around the lead-up to Full Gear 2023 that I started really paying attention. There was something about what House of Black was doing that was different from anything else I was seeing. I could understand just enough to recognise talented athletes when I saw them, but I wasn’t quite plugged in enough to the overall wrestling “ecosystem” that that was enough on its own to get my attention. Now that I understand more of what I’m looking at, it’s easier to understand what I’m meant to be impressed by – it’s easier now to have that moment of, holy shit, how did they do that?

But I didn’t understand yet. I’d been watching wrestling for about a month and was still finding my footing. What I saw, and latched onto, in House of Black was a group of four impressive performers that I could tell were in love with the art of what they were doing. Everything was done with intent – the way they entered the ring, the different but cohesive styles with which each member of the House wrestled, the gear they wore, the ever-evolving paint on Malakai’s face, the evolution and growth of Julia’s character.

It was both the moment that I finally, properly understood that professional wrestling was also theatre—and, I think, the moment that I was magnetised. It felt like a faction that was made for me: a band of storytellers who wanted to take my hand and show me what wrestling could be and was and is, and had the creativity and cohesiveness and physical talent to pull it off.

I could breathe a sigh of relief. I wasn’t lost anymore, desperately trying to catch up to understanding something that everyone around me already seemed to know. I had a guide of some sort, and one that resonated: I’ve been reading since I was 3, writing stories since I was 11, have always been a little “strange,” drawn to creative types and niche hobbies and other people that don’t have many friends. And here was someone who not only felt like me, sounded like me, but was wanted and loved and succeeding. A stranger to me, in the way that performers and public figures always are, but I felt like it was going to be okay. If Malakai could make it—though I didn’t and don’t know him personally, I had no way of knowing if he was ever afraid, or if he doubted himself—then maybe I could, too.

The more I watched and the more I learned, the more true that became. I’ve been depressed and anxious most of my adult life. I have scoliosis that is likely to get worse as I get older, and causes me pain multiple times a week, if not every day. Hearing someone whose work I admired be open about his mental health—especially when sports industries have typically not been kind to people, perhaps especially men, who are vulnerable in that way—and be honest when he’s in pain shook something loose in me that I hadn’t quite realised was stuck and frozen in shame. It’s okay that I’m afraid. It’s okay that I have days where my brain is trying to consume itself. It’s okay that I’m in pain. Did I get out of bed today? Have I been outside? Have I eaten? Have I done something to be kind to myself—or, failing that, kind to someone else? Have I done something creative today?

I started my “gender journey,” for lack of a better phrase, in 2018. There was a lot, a lot, of messing around with pronouns, labels. I didn’t know what I was, only that “just a girl” didn’t feel quite right anymore. And then I felt like I was lying, because, well—I was fine being a girl when I was ten, and thirteen, and sixteen, so why was it suddenly different at 25? Sometimes I still feel like I’m lying. The generation above me often still holds an image of trans people that requires them to have always been miserable, always been “pretending.” A few months ago my mother suggested it was fine if my idea of being feminine had expanded, but she didn’t really believe I was trans, because I’d never been unhappy as a girl child, and besides that I looked like a “clone” of the small handful of other transmasc and nonbinary people she’s met. I must be a pod person. (Newsflash, mom: This is just what queer people look like, a lot of the time. I cut and dyed my hair and got one singular tattoo. How terrible.)

She didn’t ask me how I feel when people call me she, or her—it makes me feel horribly small and unreal, by now—and in fairness to her, I didn’t quite defend myself either. I cringed and shrunk and asked for time to think about it, when what I wanted to say is yes, I know I haven’t had the history you expect to see from me, but this is who I am, and I’m not telling you that I was never a girl. I’m telling you that girl isn’t the place where I stop.

But I was scared, and I felt cornered, and I didn’t say any of that.

What I did have, though, was an artist and a performer and a storyteller who did things with his expression, his clothing, how he presented himself to the world that was like a lightbulb going on. The confidence of a man who told stories with the way that he looked, and who used feminine symbols to do it. He wasn’t any less masculine—but it was an embracing of both that cemented who he was, and I thought: holy shit. I can do that. Our identities are not the same, and I’m not too keen on speculating about the identities of public figures that I don’t know in any event—but it’s reassuring, motivating even, to be able to regularly see someone comfortably expressing his gender (because, yes, cis presentation is gender expression too) in a way that makes sense to him and incorporates the feminine and resonates through his art without doubt or reservation or compromise. This is who we are. Take it or leave it.

I don’t know what’s coming next for any of us. AEW looks like such a different place—in a good way—from when I started watching, and the world is looking pretty scary these days, but I’m still here. The art that got me interested in wrestling in the first place is still here, and I have my theories—unsubstantiated, so far—about where Malakai and House of Black are taking their story, but regardless of theories I’ve been so fortunate to watch them continue to grow and evolve over the past year. There’s a lot I don’t know, but I know the love for the story and the art is real.

I don’t know you personally, Malakai, and I don’t want to claim to, no matter how many scraps I’ve gathered together from interviews and how much of the backlog of matches I’ve done my best to watch so I can understand where you’ve come from and where you’re going next. But your work and your love for your craft has moved me, and I’m glad I stayed alive when it was hard so I could be around to see it when it mattered.

[justagirlandhersims]

I truly believe this new version of the Blackpool Combat Club is what creative hoped The Elite angle would be. While Matt and Nick are a great tag team, their strength as heels is comedy (side note - Okada has turned out to have some pretty good comedic chops as well). If you're trying to "take over" a promotion, can we really take you seriously if you're wearing your weight in grandma's pearls? If anything, the only one who seems to have understood the assignment in The Elite is Jack Perry.

On the other hand, the new BCC is brutal. They have a mission and are singularly focused in accomplishing it. They have shown in a short time how far they are willing to go to "save" AEW. Moxley has always been known for his mastery in violence, while Matt and Nick's heel personas have always been more "douchebag frat bro". What a takeover needs is ruthlessness, violence, brutality - all the things that Moxley, Claudio, PAC and Marina (who is finally being used properly!) have in spades. Wheeler is their newest disciple and his turn was telegraphed beautifully by this shot:

Wheeler, who has been by Bryan's side. Who was forced to watch the BCC turn on his hero. Who was struggling to understand how Claudio (who lets be honest is his tough love father figure) could "abandon" a club Wheeler gave his blood, sweat and tears to. That Wheeler is reaching out for help (after being attacked viciously by the aforementioned father figure) while Bryan plays to the audience. Did Bryan eventually go and check on Wheeler? Yes. But I think by that time, the damage (both physically and emotionally) had already been done.

Now we come to the end of Wrestledream last night. This is one of the final shots before the PPV went off the air. Why? Because these are the people who will be leading the fight against this new Blackpool Combat Club. Who do we have?

Darby Allin - the handpicked successor of Sting. The very Sting who led the charge in World Championship Wrestling against the New World Order. Darby has had a tough time of it lately (both in and out of the ring - who gets hit by a bus and then goes to a play afterwards?). He has been a little lost now that Sting has retired. He was even handed his first coffin match loss. Moxley pretty much offered him a spot in the new BCC but Darby doubled down and pledged his loyalty to AEW. His fight against Brody King last night showed he is willing and able to go against seemingly insurmountable odds... and win.

Orange Cassidy - this man has become the heart of AEW. From a gimmick to hands down the best International champion this company has had. That speech (not a promo, a speech... in ring and heartfelt) he gave before his match against Moxley for the international belt at All Out last year? That was when we saw the beginnings of Orange Cassidy, the leader. This year, he has been betrayed by not one but TWO of his best friends. He knows what it is like to believe in a faction, in a group of friends and have that blow up in your face. He has clawed his way back with The Conglomeration (which, who knew that would turn out to be the faction we all needed right now), which shows his resilience. And much like Darby, he has never turned his back on AEW.

Daniel Garcia - I'm going to be honest... I didn't like him at the beginning. I especially didn't like him under the Jericho Appreciation Society (but the JAS was a joke from the get go, so I can't really fault him for that). The dancing... I could have done without. BUT I understand why the audience loved it. He has the same amount of potential Bryan did when William Regal started mentoring him. I'm not just stating my opinion - Bryan himself has said as much. While MJF betraying him wasn't that surprising or life changing, it opened Daniel's eyes to the "worst" part of AEW (kayfabe wise, not in real life - MJF is meant to be the personification of the overblown ego of a wrestler). His contract came up and what did he do? He recommitted to AEW and when Bryan was attacked, he came out to help. Because like so many younger wrestlers in the back, Bryan is his hero.

Hook - Let's be honest. Hook could have coasted on his father's name and reputation. TAZ is so well respected (and rightfully so), we all know doors were opened for Hook that may not have been available to others. But unlike a lot of nepo babies in the business, Hook has put in the work to become a solid technical wrestler. He doesn't have the ego one would associate with a nepo baby. He happily looks up to and takes mentorship from those around him (except Jericho but ignoring anything Jericho says is a sound life strategy). And like his father, he has put his lot completely in with All Elite Wrestling.

Not pictured: Eddie Kingston. Eddie can turn out to be such an amazing addition to this storyline. Think about it. His brother from another mother Jon has aligned himself fully (and brutally) with his mortal enemy Claudio. Bryan spent a good month and change belittling Eddie. At the same time, Eddie loves wrestling. Anyone with half a brain knows how much this man lives and breathes this sport. So what will he do when he returns? Will he set aside his hatred of Claudio and align with Jon? Will he avenge the honor of someone who called him the "king of the bums"? Or will he (and this is what I think will happen) become just as much a leader of the locker room as Bryan has been since he came to AEW?

Now finally, let's talk about Bryan's last run. He has said in recent interviews that Tony Khan wanted him to have that Wembley moment. That was not a creative decision he made. TK did it out of respect and I can understand his reasoning. But Bryan didn't want his end to be in service of himself. Instead, he picked Moxley to "retire" him. He used his final match to set up a civil war within AEW - a storyline which will bear a lot of fruit in the coming year. This will also set him up to come back (once this poor man's body gets the rest and recovery it so desperately needs) as a leader for the next generation. He will be the new William Regal but without the darkness that Regal freely admits he carried within himself.

Every single person involved in this angle deserves a standing ovation. Not just for their wrestling prowess but for the emotional weight they added to it. Wheeler alone deserves some sort of award for the turmoil he's shown week in and week out since All Out. You could hear the tears in Excalibur's voice as he tried to finish his duties as commentator. The look on Bryce's face when he called the match for Moxley... that hurt my heart. Darby struggling against so.much.tape in a vain attempt to help Bryan. Hell, his face as he came to the conclusion (whether right or wrong) that this wouldn't have happened if he beat Moxley.

What really got me though? The screams of "no" when Wheeler stood up after checking on Bryan. He hadn't even done anything yet but we all saw the train wreck happening in slow motion. That's how you know a story has been told well.

I for one cannot wait to see where all of this takes us. I have been a wrestling fan for over 30 years. I was watching live when the nWo formed. To see a new, fresh and even more brutal take on that iconic storyline is an absolute treat for me.

So thank you, Bryan. Thank you Blackpool Combat Club. Thank you Orange Cassidy, Darby and Private Party. Thank you to every single person who brought this story to life.