#jon moxley x reader

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

JON MOXLEY IS A LANA DEL REY STAN

So I was reading his book and he talks about he loves Lana and how his favourite album is ultraviolence

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

MY TWO FAVOURITE THINGS, LANA AND MOX

[riptides-n-roses]

c*ck rider - jon moxley (18+)

⛧ pair: jon moxley x reader

⛧ tags: @88changemymind @reigns-prophecy @cyberdejos2 (please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future ffs)

⛧ warnings: explicit content, cockwarming (duh hence the title), nonchalant jon, jon being an asshole, (unprotected p in v, creampie, as always minors should not interact.

⛧ the title is so fucking dumb but it's so funny at the same time (A wrestler's theme sometimes works magic) . i do miss writing smut for you all - i hate that college is keeping me busy and i hate that i have way too many drafts atm (i gotta fix that soon); short because my body hurts and i haven't slept properly in weeks (I love you guys though so...)

⛧ no plot - jon is deep in thinking because of his feud with copeland

⛧ word count: 502

You whined as Jon gripped your flesh, his knuckles turning bone white as you grind against him. It was another day where your partner wasn't in the mood for passionate sex, especially after his match with Adam Copeland. Jon's focus was on your shared tv - deep in his thoughts while you rode his cock, buried deep in your walls.

You were met with silence and the sound of sex. Frustrated, you bounced a little faster only to be met with a harsh slap across your ass

"Jon..." You whined, trying to get his attention, slowly bouncing up and down, your arms wrapped around him.

"Watch yourself. I'll make you regret making me more irritated than I already am, dollface."

You shivered to Jon's words. You knew it was a threat, especially when he isn't playing with your tits or using his hands to overstimulate your clit.

You whined into the crook of his neck, going back to slowly grinding on Jon. It was intoxicating, every slow stroke, your walls tightening around him, you were getting impatient.

"I oughta make him regret trying to get in my way..." Jon muttered, his hands digging in your flesh "I'm the one keeping this company alive"

You yelped as he roughly bit your earlobe, noticing him trying to escape his thoughts about his recent feud with Copeland. Jon was the champion and he wasn't going to let go of the title any time soon. Even without his faction...

"He pisses me off...This is my title. I'm not letting anything change that...Fucking hell"

You moaned as he thrusted harder, his balls slapping against your clit, you bit into his neck, causing a lustful growl escaping from his lips.

"Do you enjoy this dollface?" He laughed, slapping your ass once more. "Do you want me to pay attention to you?"

"Please, daddy! I want your attention.." You moaned, your stomach beginning to tightening.

"Really? Do you think you deserve it?"

You gritted your teeth at his words. Now he was being a jackass. You bounced faster on him in response, receiving a low groan from Jon.

"God you're such a whore..." He threw his head back, his arms wrapping around your body, holding you closer. You finally felt satisfied - his thrusts getting sloppier.

"You know, dollface, I should thank you...this is better than whatever i'm dealing with..." Jon growled, his grip tightening around you.

You smiled to this, relieved that you could calm your partner down.

"Fuck...I'm getting close, dollface"

"I-I can't hold it anymore, Daddy." You were begging. It was hurting to hold it in now.

"Go ahead, doll.."

You screamed as you came, your walls tightening as you came all over him, not realizing Jon came in you, his warm seed filling you up.

Your breath hitched as Jon was still buried deep in you. Your legs shaking from your orgasm. You looked into his eyes, met with a lustful stare. He smirked as he grabbed your hips roughly.

"Don't think I'm finished with you just yet, dollface."

[turnbuckletalk]

i just came across this picture, and i– LAWD–

it's the low lighting, the messy hair, the expression on his face like he just got everything he wanted, the title over his shoulder like you couldn't wait—like he couldn't wait and just shoved you into the nearest empty locker room after he just finished retaining that exact title and now you guys have to do The Walk of Shame™ on your way out but Dean? Oh, Dean is shameless in the way he ruined you, in the way he claimed you, heated and hungry. He's grinning, watching you struggle to walk through the backstage corridors like everything is fine. He'd probably mutter something smug, low and teasing only for you to hear like "couldn't wait, huh babygirl? Now look at you, limping past all of our friends." AND I JUST– PHEWWW–

[graveyardhorror]

HOW HE PROTECTS YOU

>SUPERSTARS MASTERLIST

➽────────────────────❥

DEAN AMBROSE/JON MOXLEY

-He's like a watchdog, always looking out for any potential dangers

-He takes pride in being able to keep you safe from any possible threat, from to verbal to physical trust that he is very much capable

ROMAN REIGNS

-Another watchdog, are we surprised? no, will never let anything/one hurt you

-The type of boyfriend to always put your safety and comfort above his own, just let him know your uncomfortable and he'll take care of it

SETH ROLLINS

-Never afraid to stand up for you or a complete stranger, kind and compassionate

-He is someone who always does what is right, he will definitely treat you well and ensure you feel safe at all times

RANDY ORTON

-Very loudly and proudly a protector, he knows boundaries and enforces them

-Your boundaries will always be respected when he's around, helps you stand up for yourself and be more confident

FINN BALOR

-Has great intuition and somehow always knows when there is potential danger around

-The amount of times he's gotten you out of uncomfortable/ unwanted situations before they escalated is high, he's always there to protect you

NEVILLE/PAC

-Very confident in his ability to keep you safe, always calm

-You now have scary dog privileges lol, he tends to act as a shield for unwanted advances, scary situations and he's happy to help keep you safe

➽────────────────────❥

[eringobragh420]

⋆˙⟡ CMND/CTRL

➺ pairing — jon moxley ♥︎ f!reader ➺ kink list request — choking/breath play ➺ summary — jon returns from a match in one of his moods. ➺ words — 1.8k ➺ warnings — nsfw. choking/breath play, name-calling, marijuana, mox being mox, masturbation (m only), cum 18+ ➺ taglist — if you’d like to be added, please click here!  ➺ requested by — @lov3rla03, thank you so much!

➺ MASTERLIST ➺ 10-FOR-30 KINK LIST

Tonight was different. You hadn’t watched the show—you’d seen enough of your boyfriend covered in blood for a million lifetimes. But once he came through the hotel door, you, out on the balcony, enjoying a nicely rolled joint, thank you very much, you felt as if you’d been struck by lightning. There was a ripple in the ether, a shift in the mood, and your body stilled. His presence was all encompassing, overwhelming, inundating you with his rage, his passion, his hunger, all before the door had clicked shut behind him. 

“Oh, kitten,” he called, voice gruff, sharp edges, a promise of a difficult, but memorable night ahead.

You didn’t answer, puffing on the joint instead, exhaling the plume of smoke into the warm night air, into the constellations shining above in the cloudless sky. This was your last moment of peace for a while and you intended to enjoy it. Crossing one leg over the other and settling back into the ugly, uncomfortable chair, you hit the joint again, holding the soothing smoke in your lungs before allowing it to escape in rings, one after the other, floating on the soft breeze.

Jon poked his head out. “Aren’t kittens supposed to come when you call them?” he rasped. You smelled cigarettes and mint and sweat—the fragrance that was Mox and could be sold for billions of dollars. According to you, anyway.

“You’re thinking of dogs,” you said, dropping the well-spent joint into the nearly-empty can of non-alcoholic beer you’d been using as an ashtray, “and I’m not a dog.”

Jon swaggered toward you, his scent intensifying, the natural heat he emanated already blanketing your body. His cobalt eyes glowed in the dark like miniature lightning rods, searching for the perfect conductor to surge through. He wore his customary tight black t-shirt, somehow confining his biceps and stretching across his broad chest, gray jeans that defined his too-often overlooked dense thighs, black belt, boots. Typical Mox attire.

“But you are my bitch,” Jon pointed out. “Aren’t you?”

You smirked a smirk only marijuana could bring out in you, gazing up and up at the imposing man now a mere arm’s reach away. “Depends on the day of the week. Sometimes you’re my bitch.” Not in the sexual sense, of course, but it was no secret how utterly obsessed he was with you—a fact you’d used to your advantage on more than one occasion to get something you wanted.

The hand around your throat wasn’t shocking, but it caught you off-guard just the same, your body jerking, your own hand rising instantly to grip Jon’s wrist. His hand was big, rough, and capable—capable of bringing you to orgasm over and over, capable of spanking your ass raw until you weren’t able to sit comfortably for several days afterward, capable of killing you, if the mood struck him. Your eyes met his, glaring and starving, and his grip tightened on your neck the same time as it lifted, bringing you slowly to your feet. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tilting his head, and he continued to lift, taking you to the tips of your toes.

“Jon—” you struggled. 

“Shut up,” he commanded, cutting you off. Your mouth clamped shut—you weren’t in any position to back talk now. Which was fine with you … you knew what was coming. “Take my cock out.” 

“Will you just—” You tried anyway, despite knowing the answer.

“Shut …” He put his finger in your face. “… up. And don’t fucking make me tell you again.”

You liked the rough stuff, but sometimes Jon got out of hand, especially if you were on the level of Super Brat, who always seemed to make her presence known after finishing a blunt. The two couldn’t be related, right? Well, in any event, it was Super Brat versus Death Rider—you could only assume who the winner would be.

Your hands slid down his thin t-shirt, over every chiseled muscle, to the buckle of his belt. The metal clinked together as you disconnected the ends, leaving the belt hanging so you could make quick work of his jeans. All the while, he kept your eyes locked within his gaze, a penitentiary you never minded being incarcerated within. His cerulean eyes were brighter now, alive with power, with lust, with anger. You weren’t sure if his anger was being misdirected—did he have a bad match and was now about to take his frustrations out on you, or could he really be this pissed off because you didn’t come when he called you? Wouldn’t be the first time. And again, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you now noticed your thighs clenching, your breathing had become erratic, and suddenly you had Jon’s jeans lowered—he never wore underwear—and his semi-hard cock in your warm hand. He tried to mask the satisfaction, but you saw the slight roll of those intense eyes, you heard his breath catch in his throat. He always tried, but he could never fool you. You loved that about him.

The grip on your throat loosened just a bit, but tightened once he realized he’d done it. “Now jerk me off,” he rasped.

Your face was getting warm, eyes watering a little, but you felt a gush of juices soak your panties. Jon’s eyes shifted from yours as he watched you raise your hand to your mouth, pretty pink tongue snaking out to lather up the palm with spit and slobber before reaching for his cock again, this time gliding smoothly along his thick, veiny shaft. You twisted your wrist as you stroked slowly back and forth, your grip tight and a little rough—just how he liked it. 

“That’s it,” he sighed, dropping his forehead against yours, rubbing it back and forth across your searing skin. “I guess you are good for something.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat.

Jon swung you around by the neck, huge hand on your shoulder to stabilize you so he didn’t actually cause you injury, and walked you backward into the hotel room. He finally released your throat, and you gasped, your head pounding, vision blackening for the briefest of moments. But you felt pieces of the euphoria that came after being almost choked out—the exhilaration caused by the sudden rush of blood and oxygen to the brain—and now you were forced to chase that feeling again. 

“Take your fucking clothes off,” Jon ordered, falling back on the bed, still completely clothed, cock resting teasingly on his lower belly, leaking precum onto his t-shirt. He folded his arms behind his head, his biceps on full display, shirt riding up to reveal just a sliver of skin, the smallest patch of strawberry-colored hair.

You did as instructed, as always—you might have disobeyed in the beginning, but you always surrendered in the end, Jon always won, but you still felt like the victor when it was all said and done. Jon watched, expressionless, dick twitching every now and again, and once you were finished, standing before the Death Rider stark naked, he waited a moment before nodding. Permission received, you crawled onto the bed with its plush blankets and fluffy pillows, all white and ready to be ruined, slinking up Jon’s long body. 

“Spit on it,” he demanded, once your face hovered over his fully-hard, mouth-watering cock. Again you followed orders, depositing spit and drool all along the underside before making your way up the rest of him, straddling his waist, hands supporting you on either side of his head. His ferocious eyes searched your face, still saying nothing. 

“What do you want?” you whispered.

He considered the question, tilting his head, licking his lips. Your own eyes rolled this time, and any minute, you expected a warm, sticky river to be flowing down one or both of your thighs. He took one of your hands and placed it on his cock between the two of you, your fingers robotically wrapping around him, squeezing, stroking. He grabbed your other wrist, and you maneuvered and flexed to make sure you didn’t fall as he lifted your hand and tucked it under his chin. He reclaimed your neck with his free hand.

On any other day, he’d have had you sit on his cock and ride him until your thighs quaked. Tonight was different. As his fingers tightened on your throat, your own hand took possession of his neck, though it had a much, much lesser effect—you could barely get a grip on his throat, thick as it was. So you worked his dick harder than he normally liked, slower, massaging the slit with your thumb, and then your nail, and his big body jerked, hand squeezing, and the oxygen and blood supply were completely shut off from your brain. 

“Fuck!” Jon exclaimed, slamming his head back against the pillow. His hips rolled so he could fuck into your hand, the spit from earlier making it glide that much easier.

You jerked him as long as you could, until the dizziness set in, the lightheadedness. “Jon,” you croaked, and when he didn’t relent, you had to relinquish your grip on his cock so you could grab at his hand.

Everything happened at lightning speed after that. He released your neck before snatching your hand off his cock, which he brought up to join its twin around his throat. “Do it,” he growled. The rush to your brain was heavier this time, quicker, and suddenly you felt as though you had the strength of ten Moxes. As serotonin, dopamine, and adrenaline surged, you wrapped both hands around him, fingers easily locating his bulging arteries where you applied as much pressure as you could muster. Your hips lowered until you felt the unyielding head of his cock press against your center as he stroked himself with wild abandon. “That’s it,” Jon forced out.

Maybe it was a little shameful, but you loved having him like this. His eyes feral, cheeks blossoming crimson blotches, your tiny hands clutching Jon Moxley’s throat. He could easily overpower you, but he chose not to. This huge, formidable, alpha of a man got off on being choked out by a woman less than half his size. He wanted to be at your mercy, he wanted you to bring him to the brink, and you were only too happy to oblige.

It wasn’t too long after that he ripped your hands from his throat, gasped, and you knew he had to be seeing stars, overwhelmed with life’s necessary needs, but he continued to work his cock, the head bumping against your clit. “Fuck,” he wheezed,  orgasm ripping through him, his cum blasting your pussy, hand bumping rhythmically against that bundle of nerves, and you came too, without warning, juices leaking over his hand and dick.

Neither of you moved, your hands now resting on his chest as he lazily stroked his softening cock, massaging the head along your clit. 

“Bad night?” you breathed. 

“Not anymore.”

TAGLIST: @southerngirl41 @yourmommyagone22 @femdisa @riverina69 @jeypunkk @the-whatever-22 @rollinssection @paramedicnerd004 @brianochka @sweetmoonlove0214 @partypoison00 @missbmc94 @lils2795 @aureliacorvina @magicalbuttertarts @madimcg14 @lov3rla03 @plaidpajamallama @princesstiti14 @madhatterbri @atomicskincareeyelinerkid @aceywaycy @riddleebabyy @pyro-romantic @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @beyondthebelle @tweetthang96 @flowersbloom8787 @terrortwinunicorn @jazzyboo123-blog1 @neurodivergentempress

[allmyn1ghts]

Shield's First Lady ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The Shield x Fem!Reader (platonically)

Synopsis: just a little hc about being the first and only lady of shield!!

Warnings: fluff and some angst

a/n: missing my boys and 2013-15 real bad yall!!

you absolutely loved your boys

at first, you were really iffy about the idea Triple H presented

"I want you to be Shield's First Lady! I think you being with the guys would be a perfect fit."

you didn't really want to be in a group or associated with one. But you decided to go ahead with the idea

You barely talked to Roman before but Seth and Dean were foreign to you.

"It's so nice to meet you all, I'm sure this is gonna be super fun for all of us!" 

The three men were nothing but sweetheart to you. always polite, making sure you were good

from that moment, you knew you had made the right choice

your role was pretty simple, the fearless badass of the group 

you would stand ringside for almost every match whether it be singles, tag, or all three of them. sometimes distract the ref so they can pull an illegal move ;)

every backstage segment had all four of you in it chilling in your custom locker room, getting ready for a match, etc...

promos always had you on the mic

"Shield is taking over the WWE. We have the Tag Team titles, the United States Championship, the Divas championship, My boys and I are unstoppable"

the fans absolutely loved Shield (you were the fan favorite)

yall had become a little family!

the four of you always went out after shows, having a blast

when the boys would get into stupid little arguments, you were the mediator

"C'mon guys enough! We're family. act like it!" 

when you got loud, oh they listened for sure. They knew not to piss you off

don't be fooled though, they loved you more

What you did for them ringside, they did for you.

Every time you won, they would slide into the ring and hold you up on their shoulders.

they always made you laugh at their silly side convos 

Everything was good

until it wasn't

The day Seth betrayed you all, was the day your heart broke

"Seth what are you doing?! How could you do this to us?! We're family!"

You looked him in his eyes, slapping him across the face. He had nothing to say but a smirk on his face. 

Seth not only betrayed you but his brothers too, his family.

Shield was never the same for any of you after that day. 

hope yall enjoyed this lil hc! comment and reblog pls and thank u <33

request - masterlist - about me - who I write for

[thatgirlsza]

Tapout

Jon Moxley x fem reader

To the resident Captain Cunt (lol)

Jon was not a submission specialist conceivably. It was well known that he was more known for being the epitome of outright violence. Rewarding opponents who saw him as meek and small with mouthfuls of his bandaged fists, a back filled with the glass of florescent light tubes and splinters from busting them through tables.

However, there was one submission Moxley was talented in. You would tap out every single time. Your feet would be slack in the air, shoes, this time a pair of heels, threatening to slip off. The only thing saving them is the flex of your foot when you throw your head back writhing. The rest of your leg bent at the knee, which happened to the so close to your face that a glob of spit dribbled down your lips, ruining your pretty red lipstick and threatening to smdge at your knee. Well, what was left of said lipstick.

Your thighs quivering under his burly, calloused hands, thumbs on the side of your folds, fat and prying you open. The rough pads make you vulnerable to his curious and skilled tongue. The wet muscle sweeps up the slick you keep pouring out for him, his specialized fountain he would joke in his head. The thought made him smile against you. Jon's face is so close to yours because of the way he folds you. Like a floding chair, he simply can't get to fold. Your teary eyes look at his blue one filled with mirth as he drags his tongue against you. Slit to clit to slit then back up to clit. A kiss placed on it. The sight made your eyes shoot up, your lashes fluttering.

"Fuck..." you continue to mewl watching him cock his head, an embarrassing loud kiss on your aching heat, his eyes closing enjoying savouring your decadent taste of you gave to him and only him. Your hands at his nape. Tap tap tap. He knew that meant, you were about to cum straight into his mouth and he would have no choice but to drink you up. Tap tap tap. The knot was so close to snapping, eyes a suggestion under your lashes. So close he could practically smell it. Well, he loved that, he could smell all of you like this. But he needed more, he stiffens his tongue around your clit, the poor bundle stiffing and shaking at your fast-approaching orgasms.

Your sobs fill up the locker room, crying something Jon can hardly hear, thighs tightening about his head stopping him from any sort of escape. You need to cum, he needed you to, getting impatient and the way your pubic mound bucked into his already flush nose was enough for him to let off the command. "Cum." He mouthed on your cunt, the vibrations of his voice reverberating into your cunt and flooding back out in your orgasm. With your ankles locked together Moxley feels your legs crush him as he skillfully licks you through your high. You back arching off the benches and voice damn near a bloody scream. The high is so much, too intoxicating, too sweet to intense that it takes longer than usual for your muscles to go slack, legs falling on Jon's back as he finishes cleaning you up of his administration.

"Fuck, you're the best Mox."

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Olvídate

Pairings: Jon Moxley x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, toxic relationship, adult language, mention of smut, cursing.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @mjfass , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore

Her words still resonate in Mox’s mind, the poor quality of the phone call making her voice faint and far as if she spoke from within a tunnel. Forget about me, forget everything that ever happened between us. Move on with your life, I’ll move on with mine and don’t you forget that I don’t want to see you ever again! Those were her last words before she hung up on him.

Mox can still remember Marina’s shocked face at the blunt lack of respect, and the thought alone was enough to make him chuckle. She was the only person who could ever get away with something as childish as hanging up the phone before he was even done talking.

Move on with your life, I’ll move on with mine, it's easier said than done though. That’s why Mox now stared at her sweatpants-covered thighs coming up the stairs to her apartment. He’s been sitting on the stairs for a good thirty minutes now, his patience began to wear thin and Mox had just lit up a cigarette when he heard her unmistakable steps coming up the old building’s staircase to unavoidably meet him sitting beside her door.

He heard her drag her feet across the old concrete, as she always did whenever she had to come back to that shitty place after a long shift at work. Mox mentally counted to five until her footsteps ceased at the top of the stairs, her annoyed sigh quickly tugged a smirk at the corner of his lips, making him pull a long drag of the burning tobacco. “You’re twenty minutes late, Kitty Cat. Where were you?”, he looked up to meet her tired eyes, the all-so-familiar burning fire of hatred and desire danced across her irises.

“For fuck’s sake, not this, not now”, she whispered to herself, trying to ignore him as he stood up from the floor.

She made sure not to acknowledge Mox’s presence while she unlocked the door of her small apartment, “Do you want to do this the hard way, Kitten?”, Mox asked, stepping in front of her and blocking her way into the apartment.

“I don’t want to do this the hard way, because guess what, Moxley? We’re not gonna do this at all! Now, fucking move out of my way because after the day I just had the last thing I want is to deal with your bullshit”. She tried to push him away from the door, but it only made Mox close his hand around her upper arm and shove her inside the apartment with him.

“What the fuck? Get out! I didn’t say you could come in! L-” Her rambling was cut short by Mox’s hand covering her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up” He whispered against the back of his hand, the familiar scent of peppermint gum mixed with cigarette that lingered on his breath floated to her nostrils, causing her eyes to close for a brief instant before she felt herself pulling her head away from his hand.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me to shut up?” Her palms rested against Mox’s chest, applying pressure to push him away from her body.

“Me?” He smirked, taking one step closer to her, “I’m your owner, Kitty Cat. So I’m gonna ask one more time, what were you doing and with whom that caused you to come home twenty minutes late?”

Rage in its most dangerous proportions took over her system “That’s none of your business! You’re not my father, you’re not my boyfriend, you’re no one to come in here barking at me and asking for explanations! You made your choice Moxley, now fucking live with it”. Her hands still rested against his chest, she tried to push him away from her body one more time, but it only served to make Mox chuckle against her cheek.

“That temper always makes me want to handcuff you to my bed and fuck you until you lose that smart mouth”. The - now longer - ginger hairs on Mox’s chin tickled her face the closer he got.

“You better respect me, Moxley. We’re not together anymore for you to say such things to me”, She tried to keep her voice as still and stern as she possibly could, but the feeling of Mox’s small lips laying soft pecks on her cheek made her head spin.

“Is it disrespectful to profess my lustful wishes involving the woman that I love?” His husky voice made goosebumps cover her skin, the closeness of his lips to her own made it difficult for her to breathe.

“When you’re not together anymore? Yes.” Her hands found the sides of Mox’s neck, trying but failing at pushing his face away from her lips. “Besides, you don’t love me”.

The small huff coming from Mox’s lips caused her baby hairs to fly gently before falling back against her forehead, “Now that’s some straight-up bullshit, Kitty Cat”, his lips landed an open-mouth kiss on her chin, tongue darting out to tentatively lick her parted lips. “You know I love you. I got my own way of showing it, but you know I do”.

“And how do you show it, Jon? By lying, deceiving, or tying me up to your fucking bed?!” She pushed him back as hard as she could, temporarily setting some distance between them by walking toward the small kitchen. She placed herself against the two-seat table beside the wall, resting her lower body against the plastic table top. Her eyes stopped at the victorious smirk plastered on Moxley’s lips.

“What?” She asked, feeling her patience wearing thin the more she looked at him.

“You called me Jon”, His smirk now slowly turning into a full grin, “Not Moxley or Mox. But Jon”.

“And your point is?”

“You’re not as mad at me as you’re trying to show. Because deep down”, it only took Mox three footsteps to reach her at the table. “I’m still your Jon, don’t I, Kitten?”

“You’re missing the point here, Moxley”, She made sure to put emphasis on his name, causing him to only chuckle at her defiance, “I told you I didn’t want to see you again, yet here you are! I told you to stay away but of course, you never listen, no no, because the great Moxley will always do what he wants, isn’t that right?”

“Yes”.

His response, quite nonchalant, only served to remind her of the reason why she didn’t need him in her life anymore.

“See? That’s what I’m saying! Your fucking presumptuous self is always thinking he can say and do whatever he wants without consequences. You can’t do that, Jon! You need to start thinking about how your actions and words affect the people around you- Are you even listening to me?!”

“I am, it’s just” Mox didn’t try to contain his victorious grin as he continued “You called me Jon again”

“Oh, my fucking- Is that all you care about? Really, Jon?”

“C’mon, Kitten. You’re just trying to shield yourself from the obvious fact that you still have feelings for me”.

“Of course I do, dipshit! You don’t stop loving someone just because you’re not together anymore, no matter how much you want to”

“Oh, it’s the L word then?” Moxley pulled you into his arms, intertwining his fingers at the base of your spine. “You still love me, Kitty Cat? Good, because I’m still crazy about you too”.

He laid small, shy pecks against your lips, testing the waters to see how you would react to him.

“I love you, you know that, right? I may not be the best at displaying affection but you know me better than anyone. You know that the only person who can hang up on my face AND call me a dipshit without facing any consequences is you. Because I love you”.

“You never said it before, Jon, why would I believe you do now?”

“Because I’m here! I came for you, like a fucking dumbass I call you, I come after you, I’m always reaching out for you, and you and your fucking prideful ass would never even pick up the goddamn phone to know if I was alive”

In part, he is right, you are prideful. But that’s what stopped Mox from taking you for granted, the uncertainty of you ever coming back.

“Have you ever thought that maybe who was calling you was one of the guys to let you know that I was dead?”

“Do not say that! You know talking like that brings bad shit, I don’t like it. So don’t even play with that, Jon”.

“But you don’t care, you never answered my calls”

Your eyes stared up into his baby blue orbs “Stop.it!”

“Just think about it, Kitten. If I was dead, laying on a steel table, being cut open by-”

Your body reacts before your brain can. Your arms circle around Mox’s neck, lips covering his in a deep kiss that expresses all of your fears and wants. His grip around you tightens, the kiss deepening as Mox’s head leans down to meet you halfway.

He pulls you closer to his body, before turning you around to the living room. You slowly walk together toward the couch, your back landing first against the old fabric, Mox’s weight settling on top of you as a safety blanket would.

Moxley pulls back from the kiss, fixing a couple of your savage baby hairs away from your face. He takes a deep breath, admiring your features for a few seconds before asking “Are you done pretending you don’t want me anymore?”

The mere thought of his lifeless body was enough to make your pride go away, making you nod in agreement, “Yes, are you?”

Mox huffed, the scent of peppermint and cigarette hitting your nostrils again as he did. “I never pretended I didn’t want you, Kitty Cat. I thought my endless calls and surprise visits had already proven that”

“Promise me you’ll start thinking about the things you do and say, because honestly, Jon..I don’t think I can deal with it every time- Are you listening to me?”

“No, not right now. Because I’m really horny and you lecturing me is just making me hornier, so can we talk about that after we have sex?” His lips landed against your neck, showering your warm skin with slow kisses.

“You want me to lecture you as our pillow talk?”

“Yeah, because then it’ll satisfy your necessity of bossing me around while also warming me up for round two” Mox’s muffled voice stated, hands already finding your breasts over your work shirt.

“Round two? Who even convinced you that we’re having round one?” You chuckled, hands finding his skin underneath his long-sleeved shirt.

“That fucking pride” He laughed, head roaming up to find your lips again, “One day it’ll make me leave you for good, Kitten”

“But not today?” You whispered against his lips

“Not fucking today” He answers with a grin, “By the way, I still want to know where were you”

“Fuck you” You laughed as his fingers reached the hem of your cotton panties.

Mox smiled, letting his fingers slide into the fabric “Gladly, Kitty Cat”.

[fistsandfangs]

dog bite

dog bite. jon moxley x fem reader. mature.

summary: jon moxley has been called many things in his career. some of the more frequently recurring include rabid dog and bulldog, two admittedly apt descriptors. he fights like one in the ring, but he also worships like one for his love, too warnings: bloodplay, suggestive themes, possessive and borderline unhealthy behaviors

header by me; banner by cafekitsune and divider by dollywons

a/n: soooooooooooo i wish i had an explanation for this. but it turns out that i don't. something about mox just got to me, and my brain wouldn't let me rest until i did something about it

“He’s like a rabid dog tonight—there’s no line he won’t cross, no risk he won’t take. Jon Moxley has never met a rule he wouldn’t hesitate to stomp all over to survive a fight.”

When it was over, and Mox emerged from the ring with blood on his hands and face, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

He loved what he did, relished in the ache of putting his body on the line for a hard-won victory. It was the highest high he had ever found in life. But truth be told, a little piece of you died every time you had to watch some of the more brutal things he subjected himself to.

At least tonight saw him retain his title.

Mox strode haughtily around the periphery of the barricade with heavy footfalls that jostled the belt on his shoulder, and no one dared to approach. Refs, security, and camera operators were all hanging back, or skittering away if they found themselves in his path.

The thick soles of his boots made each step shake the floor as he approached you, a tremor that wracked your whole body. Adrenaline still burned in your blood and made your veins feel like electrified wires.

Once he was toe to toe with the divider, he dropped his head to look into your eyes and wrapped a hot, slick hand around the base of your throat. Sweat mingled with blood dripped from his skin and rolled in rivulets down your cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss. He tasted like sour copper and spearmint gum, and his teeth bit down on your lower lip possessively.

“You proud o’ me, babygirl?” he grunted, his thumb pressing down hard on your pulse point.

“Always.”

Mox pulled away to look at you, lifting his hand from your throat to appraise the bloody print left behind. “Fuck.�� The ridges of his fingerprints stained into your skin like brands were unholy and beautiful. The fleeting desire to see them tattooed permanently into your skin would surely return to haunt him later.

Without further ado, he jumped the barricade and wrapped his arm around you to tuck you into his side as he walked into the crowd towards the exit.

Only once you were in the privacy of a secluded hallway did he back you into the cement wall and capture your mouth in a forceful kiss that made your lips tingle with nerves alight. Your hands roamed his sides and lower back, fingers slipping on sweat-glazed muscle and plush skin, desperate for an anchor.

Mox pressed more of his weight into you, trapping you in the inferno of his body heat. “My girl.”

He tilted his head like he was going to kiss you again, but you were instead met with the warmth of friction burns blooming across your cheeks, nose, and chin. He was rubbing his face against yours, prickly facial hair rubbing your skin almost raw. But more than that, he was marking his territory in blood.

The wound on his temple was still bleeding sluggishly, and had covered much of the right side of his face in thick, clotting crimson, but now, he was smearing it across his own face as well as yours. His hands that had bled from a gash across his knuckles were staining every part of you they touched.

It was like he was caught in some kind of feral frenzy, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants and his grip hard enough to bruise you in his likeness.

“Mox,” you breathed, your nails digging into his side. It was a release of pressure, like scalding steam. You had his full and undivided attention, and you what more could you ask for?

It spurred him on, renewing his enthusiasm and prompting a continuous, low growl to rumble in his chest. “Dig your claws in, babygirl, give it to me.” His breath was damp against you, followed by the wet heat of his tongue pressed flat to your jaw. It swept up and curled under your ear, then flicked softly.

You obliged, allowing the points of your nails to sink deep but not break skin. Maybe it was silly to be so careful after everything he had just endured, but even knowing all too well that his masochistic streak ran deep, you didn’t relish the thought.

“You wear my blood like a fuckin’ goddess.”

You could smell it now, like metal and damp earth, and knowing it was his left a tumultuous tangle of feelings in the pit of your stomach.

The frenetic buzzing under his skin seemed to have crested when he tipped his forehead against yours like he might buckle under the weight of his wanting without you. His hips still rocked lazily into you, though, and you felt him hard against your upper thigh.

Relaxing back into the cold cement, you took a shaky breath. “Not a goddess. A warrior. Like you.”

“Like me,” Mox echoed lowly, pressing his palm to the curve of your throat. “Mine.”

“See that look in his eyes? Moxley knows he’s the biggest, baddest dog in this back-alley fight; now he’s ready to make sure everyone else knows it too.”

It wasn’t always that you found yourself in this position, but sometimes Mox just got in a mood before a match.

Tonight, he hungered like a man starved—for blood, for brutality, for defeat. Dressed in his ring gear with muscles warm and limber, he paced the locker room like a caged predator kept from its quarry.

He kept watching you with a steel blue gaze that lingered too long and sat too heavy. You felt it on your body like his own wandering hands.

Eventually, though, the tension snapped under the strain.

There were only thirty minutes until the match began, but Mox was on his knees with his big, calloused hands pressing your thighs back into your chest while his mouth worked eagerly between them.

He was making a low growling noise that made his lips vibrate gently, and you could feel it even through the fabric of your underwear. He dipped his chin to rub his nose against where the heat was most concentrated, inhaling loudly like he was scenting you as a beast.

“You only have half an hour,” you warned him shakily, your left hand resting on his head as you scratched your nails against his scalp. “Are you sure you—” All words failed you however when he teeth sunk into your inner thigh roughly, and all you could emit was a pained whimper.

“You think there’s anything else I’d rather be doin’? Shit, you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” His lips pulled back from his teeth, but it wasn’t a smile—it was a tender threat.

Moving back to your center, he caught some of the thin, white cotton of your underwear between his jaws and rolled his head side to side, testing the limits of the elastic until it dug into you under the strain.

On instinct, your thighs flexed around his head, braced against the sting. “Are you gonna eat a few scraps of cotton, or do you want something better?” you managed to tease, biting the side of your thumb to try to keep quiet.

Mox’s voice was muffled by your thighs, and it made something wild coil low inside you. “You never let me get away with shit, do you? What a woman.” One more aggressive tug and your underwear was ripped open at the left leg hole, and he wasted no more time.

All it took was a couple of minutes, and you were unspooling beneath him.

He made that low purring rumble sound again, and rubbed his mouth and chin clean against what was left intact of your underwear. “Dinner of champions. Thanks, babygirl.”

You were still trying to catch your breath as you sat up a bit, glancing down at the tattered cloth now stained with your wetness and his saliva. “You owe me a new pair.”

Utterly shameless, Mox shrugged and slid them down your legs and over your sneakers to ball up in his fist. “I’ll take ‘em off your hands then since you won’t be needin’ ‘em.”

“You’re such a freak,” you laughed, knees to your chest and your ankles crossed in a bashfully flirtatious demeanor you’d never known yourself to possess before him.

He kissed the protruding bone of each ankle, then knees, and then your lips before he got to his feet. “’Course I am. That’s why you married me.”

Rolling the fabric in his palm appreciatively, he brought it to his nose to scent with a groan of approval, then, to your shock and shameful delight, used the remaining elastic to wrap it around his wrist snugly.

“Wait, wait, Mox, no way.” You pulled your shorts up hastily, shifting against the new friction of denim on your still aching and sensitive skin. “You can’t actually go out there like that.”

Your face was burning with embarrassment as you imagined a million different scenarios playing out—commentators, fans, and/or other wrestlers recognizing it for what it really was; his opponent smelling you so clearly whenever Mox brought his arm too close; the elastic breaking and allowing it to fall to the ground where anyone—or everyone—could see what it was.

“Sure I can.” Bending down to put his lips next to your ear, he murmured, “‘Cause you’re a freak too.” His palm rested over your heart for a fleeting moment, then he was walking away from you, rubbing the back of his wrist across his lips and nose.

“Mox knows what he’s doing. A junkyard dog doesn’t get distracted away from what really matters—guarding what belongs to him and taking down anything that comes close to trying to take it.”

For the first time in a long time, you left one of Mox’s fights early.

Usually, you could take it, watching him willingly take punishing blow after punishing blow, because he always gave back even more than he got.

When the table was pitched and meticulously placed, your stomach was in knots, but you held on; when the shattered glass was sprinkled over the apron, your whole body prickled in sympathy, but you swallowed the bile that rose in your throat.

The wooden paddle lined with thick metal spikes, however, asked too much of you.

You didn’t look back as you slipped through the crowd and out into the cool evening air for your first deep breath in longer than you had realized. The whole ride back to your hotel, you contemplated all the things you could say to him, texts to leave him so he knew you were okay and why you had to go.

Nothing came out right, so instead, you just sent three words: I love you.

It was around midnight when you heard the door open. You heard him drop his duffel bag in the entry way and then step over it to make his way inside, and your heart was in your throat, dreading what you might see.

“Baby?” He sounded tired, and his voice was crackly and rough from use.

Slipping off the bed to meet him, you tentatively took a few steps into the lounge space. He was standing beside the couch, waiting for you, and while he looked worse than he had when you left him, some of the heaviness in your chest was lifted.

His sleeveless hoodie was zipped partway and the hood up, but you could still see the thick white bandaging that was wrapped around his middle. Jeans and boots covered the rest of him, and it didn’t keep you from worrying what you’d find there either.

“Can I do anything for you?” you asked simply, softly. Neither of you had it in you to pretend.

“’M fine, medical cleaned me up.” Without further ado, he cleared the distance between you in three big strides and pulled you into his chest tightly.

“Jon, don’t. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you reprimanded. You tried to press you weight back into his arms to break his hold, but he only held you tighter.

He didn’t say anything more for a moment, just tucked his face against your neck, nosing at the curve down into your shoulder almost reverently. When he did speak, it was quiet, meant only for you, and nothing more. Not even the air around you. “I saw you go,” he started. “And I know why.”

Tentatively, you reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, and it served as an invitation to Mox to sink a little deeper into you.

“I always had the dark in me, and even while loving you, I’m still drawn to it. It doesn’t distinguish between you and me; it never did. It wants to break the world in half for you, just because. If you said yes, I’d level this city to rubble and I’d fucking love every second of it.” With a sigh, he lifted his chin to rest it on your shoulder. “I want it all even when you’re safe and sound in my arms, babygirl. If someone hurt you—if I had to watch anything happen to you—I don’t think I’d ever come back from it.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” you assured him, your right hand coming up to cradle the back of his head gently.

“No, I—That’s not what I’m gettin’ at.” He pulled away to look at you, holding you still with heavy hands on your shoulders. His eyes were unusually soft, but there was the undeniable raw edge of pain with it. “If I had to watch you do even one of the boneheaded, jackass-stupid stunts I do, I’d lose my damn mind. Let alone if you chose it willingly, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.”

A calloused thumb came up to brush the corner of your mouth with the kind of tenderness that made your heart crack right down the middle and almost splinter shrapnel between your ribs.

“I would never ask you to be someone you aren’t,” you said after a moment of thought. “It doesn’t feel good by any means, but I’d rather put you back together afterwards than leave it all for something else.”

“If it were you out there, I would.” The admission dropped heavy between you two. “I’d beg you to be different, beg you to stop. Because I wouldn’t be able to bear it. I’d kill them all, and I wouldn’t feel a damn thing about it.” With a resigned sigh, he licked his lips and started again. “I couldn’t do what you do. And I fucking adore you for it. You don’t owe me anything else.”

Mox took your face in his large, rough hands and kissed you.

It was blazing hot, but nothing sizzled beneath it, and it was hungry, but not of something starved. It was a kiss that wanted, but not to capture and cage. It wanted the way the tides yearned for a ship, or a breeze for a bird. It wanted in the way that love wanted to hold so tight that it became freedom.

“I’d eat you whole, bones and all, just to keep you.”

[bloodlineee1]

"⋆𝓣𝓸 𝓜𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭⋆"

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.⋆ 𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓸𝔁𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙.⋆𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓨/𝓷 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝔃𝔂 𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓲𝓻 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱? 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.⋆ [̲̅S][̲̅M][̲̅U][̲̅T] 𝟙𝟠+

Just a quick request—it's a bit rushed, but I hope you like it!!!

Hey everyone! 😊 I’d love to hear your thoughts on this new layout I’ve been trying out! Let me know if you like it! Thanks! 💖

Y/N is a bit confused because they rarely go out. He usually comes over to her place, she cooks for him, and they watch movies together until they fall asleep on the couch. This has been a tradition for them since their teenage years. They are truly best friends, so she has suppressed her feelings for him, not wanting to jeopardize their friendship.

She is very excited to see Jon. Y/N hasn't seen him in months. They text and FaceTime every day, but it's not the same.

she wasn't sure what to wear so she decided to call him.

"greetings baby girl" she hears him smile.

so she does too.

"you're adorable, Hi baby boy" she rolls her eyes.

"Stop rolling your eyes, What you up to?" he scolds her even though he can't see her.

"how'd you- Just trying to find an outfit, What should I wear?" she looks around her room for a camera.

"Because I know you but a sweater and jeans, that's what I'm wearing," he says so surely.

"where are we going?" she questions.

"you'll see when we get there"

"Okay whatever" she rolls her eyes.

"your eyes are gonna get stuck like that, damn it I have to go but I'll see you later baby girl" he laughs.

"okay baby boy be safe love ya" she makes a kissing noise.

"love ya" he does the same.

Y/N decided to take a nap before the show to avoid falling asleep during it, which was a habit of hers.

5:40 pm

Y/N was banned after getting into a fight with a fan who was heckling Jon.

oops.

She got ready and was then notified that the Uber he had ordered was outside.

Additionally, they share an Uber account as well as all of their streaming services.

6:30 at the arena.

Jon meets her out side the arena.

"hey baby girl" he picks y/n up and puts her over his shoulder.

"Jon put me down" she smacks his butt.

"don't smack my butt" he yells.

"then put me down" she yells.

“We’re gonna sit in my locker room until it’s time for my match” he puts her down.

“Okay” she fixes her shirt that lifted.

“Hungry?” he puts his arm around her

“Not really” she shrugs.

"alright then" he puts her over his shoulder again.

She secretly loves it.

"Jon put me down seriously," she says and he ignores her.

During Jon's match

Y/N hasn't Argued with a fan and his match is almost over, which is a new record because one thing she never played about was her best friend.

his match was the last of the night and he was bleeding again....

"Jon be careful" y/n yelled at him as he climbed the ropes.

he hits his finisher and the bell rings.

He celebrates, grabs the title, and takes the mic to make a promo.

“This is the result of hard work and believing in myself. And I can't express how much it means to have you, my beautiful y/n, sitting right there in the front row, cheering me on since we were just 15. Your support has always lifted me up. I love you deeply, and I cherish every moment we spend together. It’s been hard keeping my feelings hidden—lets go steady and do this foreeal what do you say baby girl?.” He smiles gently, standing closely to y/n, who is wiping away her tears.

The crowd cheers.

“Boy I just got my lashes done” she laughs while crying.

“I’m sorry baby girl, will you be my girlfriend?” he smiles wiping her eyes.

Say yes chants start

“Duhhhh” she laughs at their inside joke.

“Duhhhh” he mocks, before kissing her.

The crowd erupts.

“Alright everyone, I must go. We have places to be.” He picks y/n up and walks her to the back while his theme song plays; he’s so cheesy.

“Your so cheesy” she giggles.

They spent their night At their favorite burger spot.

And now well...

“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles.

His head was currently between y/n thighs devouring her showing no mercy, if the head was this amazing she was excited yet so scared of what his dick was gonna do to her.

“I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner fuckkk” she moaned loudly when he latched on to her swollen clit.

“Oh that’s the spot huh? Did that feel good doll?” He smiled.

Y/n nods her head trying to scoot away from him.

“Oh your a wuss if your running now your gonna be sprinting later babe” he chuckled.

“Shut the f-oh” he puts a finger in.

“You have such a potty mouth” he puts a second finger in.

“And you don’t?” She laughs.

“Touché” he smacks her thigh.

“I’m gonna cum” she moans.

"not yet" He gets up and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed.

he smacks his dick on her swollen clit making her whimper and then slowly lines himself up with her entrance.

“You sure?” He asks.

Looking at her face for any display of second guessing.

“Yes please” she begs y/n wanted him so bad rn more than ever.

He slowly enters her letting y/n adjust to his size.

When she did he treated her like the slut she always wanted to be.

“Fuck Jon your so big” y/n moans.

He had her in missionary giving him the perfect opportunity to hit all her spots, he knew her body so well and she was in pure ecstasy.

"l ain't never been small babygirl" he smirks while pounding into her.

His strokes were persistent and he gave her just enough dick to drive her crazy.

"No stop I can't take it” She pushed at his stomach.

"you want me to stop” he slows down his strokes.

"No don't stop,don't stop.”she begs.

“No?” he goes faster and grabs her hair.

“Oh my-” she gasps.

Jon loved this fucked out look on her face he never thought he could be more in love with y/n face she's covered in sweat and her hair is sticking to her face but she couldn't be more beautifull in his eyes.

"tell me you love me " he whispered in her ear his hand still in her curls.

" I love - fuck " she gasps.

" I love -fuck you more " he chuckles.

“Your so deep” she starts to tear up.

“But you’re taking me so well baby girl” he moans.

he gives her a little more and right when he felt her about to cum he pulled out and put her In doggy position, he's been edging y/n all night and it was driving her crazy it was nothing she wanted more in this moment than too cum for Jon.

" You wanna cum babydoll?" he smacks her ass and grips it.

" Yes so bad please let me cum." y/n whines.

" Can you wait for me, baby? Just a little more for me okay? You're taking me so well" he rubs her back for comfort while he goes deeper.

" Okay, okay" she moans.

“That's my good girl, such.a.good.fucking.girl.baby,” he says with each stroke going harder with every word.

Her eyes rolled back, y/n is so overstimulated she just wants to Cum.

“ I told you they were gonna get stuck like that.” he laughs.

She wants to say something back but all she can think of is cuminng.

“ Plea-, please let me cum.” she begs.

“go ahead babygirl you deserve it” he finally lets her.

She squirted all over his dick while her body shook in pleasure, she's never felt anything like that before she was in total shock she didn't even realize Jon nutted in her.

“Fuck jon” y/n says while they lay together out of breath.

"A squirter huh?” he kisses her forehead before getting up and getting into the bathroom to make her bath.

"You learn something new everyday” she says still out of breath.

She gets up to use the bathroom, and while on the toilet it finally dawns on her that Jon nutted in her.

“Are you okay, sweet girl?”

“Your cum is dripping out of me”

“Were pregnant” he yells.

"That's not funny, Jon," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just kidding, relax! We'll go to Walgreens after our bath," he said, laughing.

[usomads]

𝔲𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔰'𝔰 𝔞𝔢𝔴 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

◦ You Taste Better

◦ Dripping (tw: blood)

coming soon...

coming soon...

[lowres720]

A little semi self indulgent Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley X Fem!reader Mysterio's daughter.

Bunny and the Junkyard Dog

Chapter 1! Just y/n

The halls backstage at Monday Night Raw buzzed with controlled chaos full of producers barking orders into headsets, ring crew rolling crates of gear, wrestlers in partial gear moving between makeup chairs and gorilla. The air carried that familiar mix of cheap coffee, hairspray, and decades of sweat soaked into the very concrete.

And she drifted through it like a ghost.

Y/N was small, quiet, careful. She hugged the walls, always managing to find the unoccupied corners no one noticed unless they were looking for them. Which… they never were.

That was the point.

At five-foot-two and always trying to blend in too well. She’d been signed to the main roster just under three months ago, called up from NXT in what felt more like a paperwork error than a moment of triumph. There was no fanfare or flashy vignette. Y/n just gained a spot on the lower card, maybe a single sentence on the weekly run sheet, and a debut match that lasted barely five minutes before she got pinned.

Y/n was a Mysterio but she hadn’t even taken her father’s name when she was running in the little gyms where she started. Slowly pulling herself through the ranks and making it on her own merit.

It's not that anyone didnt fully know, of course the Vets knew she grew up backstage, she was a rugrat in the back watching her dad wrestling with stars in her eyes. Many vets still walk past her giving her a quick ruffle to her hair or pat on the back, more like saying "We see you kiddo but our lips are sealed until youre ready"

To everyone else who was newer or just didnt really care about NXT come ups, she was just Y/N. Ring gear simple. Expression blank. She had a bad habit of just being an observer, she would blend in the background listening. When she finally started doing promos and interviews her very semi monotone approach to questions made for some uncomfortable moments.

It made the interviewers wonder if she's just playing a character . It made the camera crew annoyed. It made the locker room mostly forget she existed.

Mostly.

“Morning, kid.”

She startled like a deer as CM Punk brushed past her, slinging a gym bag over one shoulder with that crooked grin he wore like armor.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around the protein bar she’d been nervously peeling the foil off of for ten minutes without eating.

“Morning, phil” she mumbled.

He paused in his stride, glancing back over his shoulder. “You eatin’ that or interrogating it?”

A small twitch at the corner of her lips as her brows furrowed in her normal questioning look.

“I’m…thinking about it.”

“Alright. Let me know if it talks back.”

And just as quick as he showed up he was gone. He knew but never said anything about her dad and she appreciated that.

Punk was for all intents and purposes safe. Grumpy as hell, always busy, always halfway to a fight, but safe. He’d been the first one to sit beside her at catering without an invite because he recognized her from before. The first one to pass her a water bottle after a dark match where she botched three moves and nearly hyperventilated. He never pushed her to talk, but when she did, he listened like it mattered.

He never once asked her to smile like others did but he wasn’t the only one, though.

Roman, too. Big, calm Roman, all quiet strength and easy patience. He had the kind of presence that pulled people in. When he passed her in the hall, he’d tilt his head and give a subtle chin lift that meant you good? She always nodded. He always left it at that.

The Divas locker room now that was harder.

The girls were sweet, mostly. Some louder than others. Layla had a big, booming laugh that echoed off tile. Alicia Fox teased everyone with affection. Kaitlyn was sharp and sarcastic but had given Y/N a whole extra drawer in their shared makeup bin without being asked.

But it was hard not to feel like the ghost in the mirror.

She didnt see herself as overtly sexy. Wasn’t powerful. Wasn’t funny. She tended to pick comfort over flashy something that AJ Lee had told her is okay and she should embrace that instead of hide it away. April kind of adopted her when Punk had told her who she was and they had always gotten on a little too well.

Punk had texted her after having multiple sleepovers with Aj sending him all their selfies throughout the night.

Punk City:If you keep stealing my girl bun i think ill have to hit you with the GTS this is like the third night she hasnt come back to our room.

Buns: She kidnapped me and locked me in the room so you cant blame me for that. Also she bit me come get her.(┬┬﹏┬┬) BabyApe: I DENY ALL CLAIMS I NIBBLED. A LOVE NIP IF YOU WILL ╰(*°▽°*)╯ Punk City: Im on my way BabyApe: Bring snacks pls 💕

It was always jokes and lighthearted between them thats how she liked it, to be noticed by people who didnt make her feel like she had to put on a front. The worst were the men who did notice one or two creepy veterans who stood too close or leaned in too far when she was trying to tie her boots. Ones that didn't care who her dad was or the fact that they saw her literally grow up backstage, and when a certain creep in particular had once whispered something in her ear after a match it made her physically sick. Punk had noticed the way she bolted. She never told him what was said. He never asked. But that guy had been gone from the locker room within two weeks.

She didn’t want to think too hard about that.

That night, she was scheduled for a squash. It didn’t bother her. Not really. She wasn’t here to win titles or cut promos that made headlines. She was here to exist. Just barely.

“Alright, sweetheart,” the road agent grunted, flipping through his clipboard as she approached gorilla. “You’re up after the Shield segment. Quick entrance, clean pin, no time to pose. You’re selling the finisher and rolling out.”

She nodded, head down.

He didn’t even check to see if she understood. Just moved on to the next name. She leaned against the wall, plugging her ears waiting for the pyro to hit. Her and Dom had gotten that habit of plugging their ears when anyones pyro would go off it didnt always bother her but it made her heart thud in her chest and if she could avoid it she did.

From the other side of the curtain, she could hear the chaos beginning—static crackling, the distorted war cry of “Sierra. Hotel. India. Echo. Lima. Delta…” and the crowd erupting as the three of them stormed through.

She peeked out briefly from behind a road case. Just a peek no harm no foul.

Roman, expression unreadable, black hair damp and clinging to his cheekbones. Seth, always the showman, smirking like he knew every answer to every question you hadn’t even asked yet.

And Dean.

She looked away. She hadn’t talked to him. But she felt his eyes. Or maybe she imagined it.

He always looked like he was one second away from snapping a chair over someone’s spine. Eyes too wild. Shoulders tense. Like he only half-belonged in the group but hadn’t been told yet.

Dean Ambrose. THE Jon Moxley

She never said his name out loud. She knew him from his CZW days, the wrestling her dad didnt let her watch because he didnt want her view of the sport "Tainted"

Her match went as expected. Quick and clinical. Her opponent hit the finisher with enough care not to rattle her jaw, and she sold it well enough to draw applause. The ref lifted her opponent’s hand, the camera panned out, and she rolled out like she’d been told.

Backstage again. Invisible again.

That was the rhythm.

Until something shifted.

That night at catering, she sat at a table with her tray fairly bland chicken breast, rice, plain green beans and barely took a bite. Her fingers twisted around the hem of her sleeve, heart doing that uncomfortable flutter thing it always did in crowded rooms. She’d counted every tile in the ceiling by the time someone sat across from her.

“Y/N.”

She turned to see who called her. Of course it was Roman.

He was already eating, taking easy bites, nodding at something across the room.

“You alright?”

She nodded. Immediately. Maybe too fast.

His dark eyes flicked back to her face. “You looked a little pale after your match.”

She nodded again. She hadn’t realized he’d been watching.

“I think its just adrenaline honestly” she replied hoping he wouldn't push too much on it.

He made a soft sound. Not agreement but also not disbelief. Just a sound that filled the space so she wouldn’t feel like she had to.

Across the room, she heard someone curse maybe Seth and a tray clattered loudly against a table.

Roman didn’t flinch. She did.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You’re safe back here. You know that, right?”

She picked through her food much slower this time. "I know Ro.. sorry its a bad habit."

They didn’t talk much after that. But when he left, he paused behind her chair and lightly tapped the back of her shoulder with his fist.

Not hard just a I'm here for ya. Later at the hotel that night was loud. There was a wedding in one of the ballrooms, and a drunk couple had already been escorted from the lobby by the time she checked in.

She took the stairs to the third floor, her bag heavier than usual, shoulders aching.

When she got to her room, she locked the door, slid the bolt across, and leaned against it for a long, still moment. Eyes closed. Shoes still on.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

A message.

Punk City: Hey kid. Good sell tonight. Don’t let those producers get in your head. You’ve got something. Let ‘em be slow to see it. Ape almost lost her mind watching.

Her eyes prickled hot.

She didn’t reply for a minute.

But she smiled.

Buns: Im sure she did. Thx Philly See yall next week 🖤

The next few weeks passed in similar rhythm. Quiet mornings. Quick matches. A silent kind of survival.

There were little kindnesses like Kaitlyn saving her a seat at makeup. Alicia stealing an extra smoothie from catering for her. Punk grumbling at her to stop apologizing for existing.

Roman would nod every time they passed in the hall. Once, he even called her “little sis.”

She hadn’t known what to say to that.

But it made her feel something warm.

And then… there was the third Shield member.

Dean.

Always watching. But he really never tried speaking to her. She wasn’t sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

Every time she passed by, she felt the weight of his gaze. Not in the predatory way she feared, but still fully intense. Sharp. Like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

She avoided eye contact which wasnt out of her norm because she avoided a lot.

But part of her started to wonder when the storm would reach her.

Because Dean Ambrose didn’t ignore people for no reason.

He just waited.

And eventually… he noticed the bunny.

[issdisgrace]

I don’t have an obsession with this man or anything

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Wild Thing

Jon Moxley x fem reader

A young Jon Moxley meets Y/n somewhere in CZW in 2009 (inspired by Mox’s book)

Mentions: of blood, drug use, swearing, fighting, kidnapping

Main Masterlist

Tonight was my first match in CZW’s Tournament of Death. I stood pacing back and forth in the locker room mentally preparing myself for the events that would occur when I could hear Eddie Kingston yelling at someone in the hallway. He sounded mad. The other men in the locker room exchanged looks and oos before one of them said “She sure is a feisty one isn’t she” to which the men all began to laugh. ‘Who is this she?’ I thought to myself. Eddie then stormed into the room and slammed the door behind him, preventing whoever was behind him from entering the room. He leaned against the door and I could hear angry knocking from the other side. “What does she want now?” said Danny Havoc. (But I just call him Grant) .“She wants to be in TOD, Jon won’t let her” Eddie explained. I didn’t know who this girl they were referring to was but she seemed pretty badass to me. A female wanting to participate in the tournament of death?! “Of course she does! Let me talk to her” said Grant with his thick Jersey accent. Eddie then opened the door to reveal a tall blonde in a Juicy Couture tracksuit. I was not expecting that. 

The gorgeous blond stormed into the room before running into the arms of Grant. “Tell Jon Zandig that I should be in TOD!” she yelled “Now doll, why do you want to be a part of TOD? You know I love ya but you’re too pretty to be doing this kind of shit,” he told her. 

“I want to prove that I can do the same thing you guys can do. Why is it that there are never any women wrestling in these shows? You know I can wrestle! I train my ass off and what do I get back? Nothing, because no one wants to hire a girl. They only want female wrestlers for swimsuit contests and dog food fights. I’m sick of doing that shit! I want to go out there and taste my own blood. TOD or not I want to show these people that I know how to wrestle!” The room was silent. I felt like an outcast, everyone seemed to know about this situation but me. 

Eddie was the first to break the silence. “Let me talk to Jon again. You know he likes you Y/n. I’m sure if you promise not to do anything stupid he will put you in the opener without TOD stipulations” 

Sure enough, Y/n got her match. I watched the match backstage with Grant, both of us hypnotized by what we were seeing. “Who is she?” I asked him, he almost looked shocked that I didn’t know of Y/n. “That’s Y/n, she’s the most badass bitch I have ever met. They call her the Hardcore Barbie because she looks like a Barbie doll and lives off death match wrestling. She’s really nice if you don’t piss her off. She also has good weed.” he told me 

I was so fascinated with her. I needed to know more about her. “Anything else I should know about her? She seems young?” I asked Grant. “Well, she started wrestling when she was 16 and she just turned 20. I know what you’re thinking, she won’t sleep with you, everyone here has tried. It’s so funny that these freaks think she would get with them. She travels with Kingston and me, so don’t you dare try nothing. I will kill you with my bare hands” 

Grant and I watched the rest of the match. I had never seen such a beautiful match. Y/n did in fact know how to wrestle. The man she stood across the ring from was twice her weight yet she picked him up with such ease. The fans loved seeing a pretty girl like herself beat up a sweaty dude. Y/n had beat the man to a pulp, she pinned him 1..2..3 and it was over. I thought it was funny how Grant watched on as a proud parent, that was his girl. I thought about what he said, how she rode with him and Kingston. Why did Eddie never mention Y/n before?

After the show, Y/n officially introduced herself to me. I felt like I was hypnotized by her beauty. She noticed how nervous I was around her and she used it to her advantage, inviting me to hang out after the show with Grant and Eddie. I had to accept, how could you not? 

Eddie explained to me why he hadn’t introduced me to Y/n before. He told me she was known for using her looks to her advantage. “So like she sleeps with people for matches?” I asked him “That’s gross, she would never do that. She mentally fucks you. If you look her too long in the eye you’ll fall right into her trance. She hypnotizes you and manipulates you. She looks all sweet but trust me she has a bad attitude” “So why do you hang out with her then?” I asked him 

“Because she’s fucken wild. She’s so fun to hang out with and she always has weed. Someone needs to look out for her. There are creeps out there man. For god sake she’s a skinny tall blond who lives in Juicy Couture, what do you think will happen?” he told me. Eddie had a good point. 

That night Y/n and I became good friends. Eddie was right when she said she was wild. Once she had a few drinks in her and some of the good shit she was the life of the party. I didn’t understand why Eddie kept Y/n a secret, sure you could tell that she had a few screws loose but don’t we all? For fucks sake if someone willingly wants to participate in TOD you know there’s some form of mental issues going on.

Just then a man approached Kingston and me. He had a fresh buzz cut, was covered in tattoos, had what seemed like a freshly broken nose and looked like the kind of guy who would have women chained up in his basement. “Where is she?” he spat, in a thick Russian accent. I could tell that he and Kingston knew each other, the tension was thick in the air. “Where is who?” Eddie spat back, his New York accent being more noticeable when he was mad. “You know who, stop playing dumb, bum” he responded. “You’re a real fucking idiot, Sasha, she left hours ago. I have no idea where she went but even if I did there’s no way I would tell you” Kingston spat. The men stood chest to chest, eyeing the other down. I did nothing, even I knew not to get involved in whatever this is. Now I didn’t know who the ‘She’ was that they were referring to but by now I think I had an idea. Then Grant came into the mix yelling “I told you if you ever showed your face here again I would fucking kill you” Just then an all-out brawl began. The two men began beating Sasha to a pulp. That’s when I noticed Y/n had vanished into thin air.

I let Kingston and Grant take care of Sasha and went looking for Y/n. In the distance, I heard the sound of broken glass. I followed the sound and found Y/n smashing the windows of a beat-up junk car with a baseball bat. She was mad, she looked evil. Now I knew why Eddie had warned me. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s going on here? What are you doing Y/n?” She turned to face me and I made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Her once bright green eyes had turned a deep forest colour, the whites of her eyes now red. Her makeup was smudged and her cheeks were stained with fresh tears. I was scared. I felt like she was staring into my soul, being able to read my every thought, know all my secrets. “What do you want, Mox?” she said through gritted teeth. “I just want to know what’s going on here. Why are Grant and Eddie beating the snot out of a guy named Sasha?” Her face dropped at the name, that told me what I needed to know.

Just then I heard someone yelling and honking a horn in the background. I turned to find Grant and Eddie yelling at us to get in the car! Y/n and I jumped in the car and sped off. The car was deathly silent. No one dared to say a word. I looked at Grant’s hands that gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were bloody and bruised, that’s when I noticed the blood on Eddie. The silence was broken when Y/n began to laugh, Grant and Eddie began laughing as well. “What the fuck happened back there?” I asked with genuine concern in my voice. “That jackass back there Sasha, I broke his nose after he followed me home after the show last week. I don’t even want to think about what his intentions were, "she said. “Not to mention 'someone' stole $500 out of my purse at the show today” “If he ever showed his face around here again I said I would kill him” Grant responded. “I smashed his windows because that’s what he gets for trying to kidnap me and stealing my $500” I was honestly speechless. “ I found a bunch of money in his car so it’s only fair I split the reward with all of you,” Y/n said. I watched her pull the fat wad of hundreds out of her pocket and began counting it. “$500 for Grant, $500 for Eddie, $500 for Mox and $1,500 for me. Thank you, Sasha” “Thank you Sasha the rest of us chimed in” From that moment I knew Y/n and I would be best friends. 

[graveyardhorror]

WWE/AEW | dating!headcanons

>SUPERSTARS MASTERLIST

➽────────────────────❥

DEAN AMBROSE/JON MOXLEY

-Loves the intimacy of domestic tasks with you

-Grocery shopping together

-Getting ready in the morning and getting ready for bed together

-Showering and taking baths together as a form of intimacy

-Always holding your hand everywhere you guys go

-Claims he's not romantic and then proceeds to do the most romantic gesture ever

ROMAN REIGNS

-Becomes a lovesick puppy when you first start dating

-Craves your attention and love everyday

-Always has to be touching you in some way

-Claims you are his good luck charm and will let you know all about it

-The type to talk about kids and marriage early in the relationship

-If he's dating you, know that he's in this love for life

SETH ROLLINS

-His favorite hobby is now thinking about you

-Will buy you things that remind him of you

-Loves to give you clothes that smell like him and also receive his clothes smelling like you afterwards

-Texts you pictures of cute animals cuddling saying "this is us"

-The type to get you flowers for no reason at all

-At some point in your relationship he will get you your dream pet for you

RANDY ORTON

-You thought he was flirty before your relationship? He's now flirting with you any chance he gets

-Loves seeing you get flustered from his flirty compliments

-Loves it even more when you try and fluster him back

-Will send you random texts throughout the day

-Sends you a shirtless gym mirror selfie, followed by the text "I had chipotle today"

-One of his favorite things to do at night is slow dance with you

FINN BALOR

-Becomes the world's happiest man when someone asks him about you

-Loves talking about your relationship to others

-Will brag about you and how perfect you are for him to whoever listens

-Will remind you everyday about how much he loves you

-Loves taking you on simple dates where you guys can just be cute together

-Coffee shop dates followed by eating your favorite food afterwards

NEVILLE/PAC

-Lives for the domestic bliss of relationships

-Just doing household chores together will have him on cloud nine just because he's doing them with you

-King of communication when it comes to arguments

-His favorite time of the day is when you guys cuddle after work

-Loves when it's just the two of you

-Takes you on shopping dates

➽────────────────────❥

[mamirhodessxox]

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

🏷️ List: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @mini-rollins @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @bones-rhodes @cococodysleevlesshoodie @edtomh @actuallydrew