#p: drew mcintyre

[plaidpajamallama]

Maybe it’s just me but this sounds a little………

DREW MCINTYRE WWE SmackDown, December 20th, 2024

[ripleyflair]

in the squared circle, straight up "rubbin it" and by "it", haha, well. let's justr say. Our peanits together

[samijey]

Monday Night RAW 29/04/2024

[hartbreak-motel]

😬😬😬

[slutfortheeclaymore]

Jesus fucking Christ!!! He looks like he stepped off every historical romance novel cover I’ve ever read! Im sweating! Goddamn KING!!!

[rootedinrevisions]

What's Mine

SUMMARY: After months of secretly seeing each other, you and Tyler find yourselves caught between professional boundaries and personal desires. When a flirtatious rival pushes Tyler's jealousy to the surface, he claims you in a way that leaves no doubt about your relationship status-to you or anyone else.

A/N: sorry that these requests are taking so long! I appreciate everyone's patience as I try to juggle writing with Thank you to the person who sent the request for this one in. This one came from the prompt “I’m not the jealous type, but what’s mine is mine.” I've had this one mostly done for a while (like a week or so) but the scene at the end just wasn't coming together the way I wanted it to. But I think I'm finally happy with the final result. Hope you like it! xx

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Cursing (I assume, I'm not positive though). Smut (P in V, Unprotected)

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The bar was alive with energy, the hum of conversation and laughter mixing with the low strains of a country tune from the jukebox. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily were engrossed in a heated pool game, their competitive banter rising above the noise. You and Tyler had claimed a small table near the edge of the room, tucked away just enough to let you watch the chaos unfold.

Tyler sat back in his chair, nursing a Budweiser. His long fingers tapped idly against the glass bottle, his eyes scanning the room with the kind of quiet intensity he always carried. You were close enough to feel his presence, that steady, grounding calm he exuded without even trying. But far enough apart to not draw suspicion from the rest of the team.

Your drink was nearly gone, and you stood, brushing your hand lightly over his shoulder. “I’m getting another. You want one?”

He glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, darlin’.”

You nodded and made your way toward the bar. It was busy, and a line was forming as people crowded to get the bartender’s attention. You leaned against the counter, letting out a soft sigh as you waited.

“Hell of a storm today, huh?”

The voice came from your right, smooth and friendly. You turned to find a man standing beside you, his elbow resting on the bar. He was tall, with a confident grin and a storm-chaser logo stitched onto his jacket—a rival team.

“Yeah,” you replied, keeping your tone polite but neutral. “Definitely one to remember.”

“Bet you’ve got some good footage from it,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned in slightly. “You’re with Owens’ team, right?”

You nodded, not bothering to hide the pride in your voice. “That’s right.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, his gaze lingering just a little too long. “I mean, you guys have a solid team. And... well, looks like you’re not just good at chasing storms.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smile tight. “Appreciate the compliment.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement—Tyler. He was still at the table, but his body language had shifted. His posture was no longer relaxed; he sat forward slightly, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer bottle. His sharp green eyes were locked on you, his expression unreadable but intense.

The man at the bar didn’t seem to notice. He continued, his voice low and smooth. “If you ever get tired of running with Owens, maybe you should give our team a shot. We’ve always got room for someone like you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Thanks but I’ll pass. I’m pretty happy where I am.”

The man didn’t back off, his grin turning slightly smug. “Well, if you ever change your mind—or just feel like grabbing a drink sometime—”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you cut him off firmly, turning back to the bar as the bartender handed you your drink.

You glanced over your shoulder toward Tyler. He was still watching, his jaw tight, the muscle ticking in his cheek. His eyes flicked briefly to the man beside you before returning to yours. There was no mistaking the tension radiating from him.

You gave the man a polite nod before stepping away, leaving him at the bar as you made your way back to Tyler.

As you approached, Tyler’s gaze never left you. He set his beer down, his fingers drumming once against the table before he stood.

“Everything good?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it—a quiet undertone that only you would catch.

“Fine,” you replied with a small smile, though you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, his expression neutral, but his eyes gave him away. “No reason.”

You took a sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of the glass. His attention briefly flicked past you, toward the bar where the man still lingered. Tyler’s jaw tightened again, and he looked back at you, his gaze steady.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. “You sure? Because you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Tyler didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back as he leaned in. “Let’s dance,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Dance?”

“Yeah,” he said, already guiding you toward the dance floor. His hand stayed on your back, the contact warm and steady as he maneuvered you through the crowd.

The dance floor was dimly lit, strings of lights crisscrossing overhead and casting a warm glow over the couples swaying to the music. The song was slow and soft, a welcome contrast to the energy of the bar. Tyler stopped just at the edge of the dance floor, turning to face you.

“Here?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart gave a little leap at the intent in his eyes.

“Here,” he confirmed, sliding his hands to your waist.

He pulled you closer, the motion smooth and confident, and suddenly the crowded bar felt a lot smaller. You placed your hands on his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the soft, worn fabric of his flannel. The scent of him—faint cologne, beer, and the outdoors—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment.

The two of you moved together, the rhythm of the song dictating the slow, deliberate steps. Tyler’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against the hem of your shirt where it met your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your back, keeping you pressed against him.

But there was something in the way he held you tonight—something different. His movements were just a little firmer, his grip a little more possessive. You felt it in the tension radiating from him, in the way his eyes stayed locked on yours.

“You’re tense,” you teased, tilting your head to study him.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little too even, his expression unreadable.

Your lips quirked into a small smile. “You sure? Because you’ve been glaring at the bar like it owes you money.”

That earned a soft huff of laughter from him, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, his gaze flicked past you, just for a moment. Curious, you glanced over your shoulder and spotted the storm chaser from earlier still lingering at the bar, his eyes darting toward you and Tyler on the dance floor. When you turned back to Tyler, his jaw was tight again, his green eyes darker than usual.

“Oh my God,” you said, the realization dawning. A grin spread across your face. “You’re jealous.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are,” you teased, leaning in just a little closer. “You’ve been staring him down ever since I got back.”

Tyler’s hand on your waist slid a fraction higher, pulling you tighter against him. His voice dropped, low and rough. “I’m not the jealous type,” he said, his eyes locking on yours, “but what’s mine is mine. And I didn’t like how he was looking at what’s mine.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his tone, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily. “What’s yours?” you asked, your voice light but laced with challenge. "Not sure I know what you mean."

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand slid up your back, his other hand combing up and his thumb brushing along your jawline. The touch was intimate, deliberate. “You know exactly what I mean,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled, though your heart was pounding. “Do I? Because last I checked, there’s no label on this... whatever this is. We’re just keeping things casual, remember?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement breaking through his tension. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“Am I?” you countered, tilting your head as if to test him. “Because I’m thinking maybe I’ll let him buy me my next drink. He seemed nice. Even offered to let me ride with him if I want.”

Tyler’s grip on you tightened, his jaw clenching visibly. “You better watch that mouth of yours,” he warned, his voice low and steady, “before it gets you into trouble.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Leaning in closer, you let your hand rest on his chest, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his flannel. The touch was casual enough to appear innocent, but the way his eyes darkened told you he didn’t take it that way.

“What kind of trouble?” you asked softly, your voice teasing but edged with genuine curiosity.

Tyler’s lips twitched into a small, almost dangerous smile. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “If you keep running that little mouth of yours,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “I’m gonna take you against the nearest surface I can find. And trust me, darlin’, I’ll make sure everyone—including him—knows exactly who you belong to. So unless you want us both taking a ride for indecent exposure tonight, I'd suggest you knock it off.”

A shiver ran down your spine, his words leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could recover, the song shifted, transitioning into a faster tempo. Tyler pulled back, the satisfied glint in his eyes unmistakable as he saw the look on your face.

He grinned, spinning you out in a smooth twirl under his arm before pulling you back against him. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

And then, without warning, he dipped you low, his hand steady at your back as he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was firm and unapologetic, a silent claim that left no room for doubt to anyone looking.

When he pulled back, his hand still cradling your back, you blinked up at him, your breath uneven. His gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Are you done being a brat, or do I need to make things even more official?”

You laughed softly, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” you teased, still catching your breath. “I kind of like seeing you jealous.”

Tyler’s hand stayed firmly on your back as he guided you off the dance floor, weaving through the clusters of people. You were still reeling from the kiss—your lips tingling, your heart racing. His confidence had left you breathless, but there was also something grounding about his presence, his solid grip on you as though letting go wasn’t an option.

As you reached your table at the edge of the bar, Tyler pulled you into a quieter corner where the music softened to background noise. His hand lingered on your waist, his thumb brushing idly over your hip as if staking his claim.

“Subtle,” you teased, leaning against the wall. “You think that was enough for him to get the message?”

Tyler’s lips twitched into a small smirk, his green eyes glittering with amusement. “Don't care. I wasn’t doing it for him,” he said, his tone low and deliberate.

For a moment, you forgot the noise of the bar, the crowd, and even the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. All you could focus on was Tyler—his steady gaze, the way his hand still rested on your hip, and the unspoken promise in the way he stood so close to you.

“So, what was that all about then?” you asked, tilting your head, your voice softer now.

Tyler leaned in slightly, his free hand bracing against the wall beside your head. The proximity was intoxicating, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“I told you,” he murmured. “What’s mine is mine. I don’t care who knows it.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “But we're still not official, though,” you pointed out, your tone teasing.

Tyler exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when I want something,” you shot back, your eyes glinting with challenge.

Tyler pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand resting on the side of your face as he caressed your jaw. “You want official? Fine,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk, but his eyes held something more—something tender.

Tyler leaned in, his forehead brushing yours as he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Call me whatever you want—boyfriend, lover, or just Tyler—but as long as you call me yours, that’s all I care about.” His thumb traced the line of your lips, and the weight of his words settled around you like a promise.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, fierce and tender all at once. He kissed you slowly, his mouth lingering over yours, as if sealing the words he’d just spoken with a kiss that spoke louder than anything else. His hand cradled your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

Tyler’s lips pulled away from yours, but his forehead stayed pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes, that mischievous spark returning to his gaze. He traced his thumb gently over your cheek, as though savoring the moment.

“So,” he said, a teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, “was that official enough for you, or are you gonna make me actually say it?”

You tilted your head, matching his grin, letting your fingers lightly graze the back of his neck as you gave him a playful challenge. “I think I kind of want to hear you say it,” you teased, your voice soft but laced with amusement.

Tyler sighed dramatically, his eyes rolling with mock exasperation, but it was clear he was enjoying this little moment just as much as you were. He leaned back slightly, a chuckle escaping him as he gave you a mock-serious look.

“Darlin’,” he began, his voice dripping with affection and a touch of humor. “Will you please be my girlfriend?”

You burst into laughter, the sound light and carefree, as Tyler grinned at you, clearly pleased with himself. His hands found your waist again, pulling you closer as his lips quirked upward.

“See?” he teased, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. “I sounded ridiculous, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. "I don't know...I kind of liked it,” you replied, a hint of sweetness in your voice. “Thank you. I know you probably think it was stupid, but it was nice to hear.”

Tyler leaned in, brushing his lips over your forehead in a soft, affectionate kiss. “Darlin', I'll do whatever makes you happy. If that means saying it, then I'm happy to do it,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer again.

Your chest tightened at the honesty in his tone, and for a moment, all the teasing and banter fell away. This was real—so much more real than you’d expected it to be when the two of you started this quiet, undefined thing.

The moment hung between you, charged and intimate, until the sound of laughter from your team broke the spell. You glanced over Tyler’s shoulder to see Dani and Boone watching you from the pool table, their expressions ranging from amused to downright smug.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” you said, your lips quirking into a small smile.

Tyler turned to follow your gaze, his hand dropping back to your waist. “Good,” he said simply. Then, louder, so the rest of the team could hear, he added, “Yeah, we’re together. Anyone got a problem with that?”

The table erupted into laughter and a chorus of good-natured teasing, but no one seemed surprised. Dani shot you a knowing look, and Boone raised his beer in a mock toast.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you turned back to Tyler. “You're as subtle as a freight train,” you teased.

He grinned, leaning down to brush a kiss against your temple. “You love it,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

And he was right—you did.

As the night eased into a comfortable rhythm, the initial teasing about you and Tyler began to fade—well, mostly. The team had always been a tight-knit group, and now that the two of you were officially “out,” it seemed like fair game for them to poke fun.

Dani was the first to pounce, sidling up to your table after winning yet another round of pool. She leaned her cue against the wall and smirked. “So, is this why you always rode shotgun with Tyler on every drive?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Boone joined in, raising his beer. “Oh, I get it now. ‘I’ll navigate.’ ‘I’m the best with maps.’ Sure, that’s why,” he said, making exaggerated air quotes.

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help laughing. “I am good with maps,” you said defensively, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Dexter, usually the quiet one, chimed in with a rare grin. “Guess that explains all the ‘extra stops’ you two needed on those long drives. Thought it was weird how often you needed coffee breaks.”

You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “Oh my god, you guys are impossible.”

Tyler, on the other hand, was taking it all in stride. He leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, the very picture of smug confidence. “Jealousy’s a bad look on y’all,” he said, his lips twitching into a smirk.

Dani rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re not jealous. Just annoyed it took you this long to admit what we all already knew.”

Boone nodded in agreement. “Seriously, the way you two looked at each other—like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie. We were just waiting for the dramatic kiss in the rain.”

Tyler grinned, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

You shot him a look, though you couldn’t hide your own smile. “Interesting is one word for it,” you muttered, leaning into his side despite yourself.

As the team’s attention shifted back to their game, you stole a moment to glance up at Tyler. His green eyes met yours, and for a second, the noise of the bar faded away. He gave you a small, almost private smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat.

When it was finally time to call it a night, the group began gathering their things. Dani slung her bag over her shoulder and paused by the door, looking back at the two of you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, lovebirds,” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “Try to keep it down tonight, okay? Some of us would like to actually get some sleep for once.”

Your cheeks went bright red as the rest of the team burst into laughter. “Dani!” you protested, your voice high with embarrassment as you hid your face in Tyler’s shoulder.

Tyler, however, was completely unfazed. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself. He tightened his arm around you, giving the group a lazy grin. “No promises,” he said, his tone teasing but dripping with that cocky charm you both loved and hated.

The laughter grew louder as you groaned again, playfully smacking his chest. With his arm still wrapped around you, Tyler guided you out of the bar, his hand resting securely on your hip as you stepped into the cool night air. The laughter and teasing from your teammates still echoed in your ears, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Think they’ll ever let us live this down?” you asked, glancing up at him.

Tyler chuckled, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Not a chance,” he said, pulling you closer. “But as long as I’ve got you, I don’t really care.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked toward his truck.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional murmur of a country station playing on the radio. Tyler had one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on your knee, his thumb idly brushing over the fabric of your jeans. Every so often, he’d glance over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth like he couldn’t help himself.

But your mind was racing, and as much as you wanted to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his touch, you couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in. Was what happened back at the bar real, or was it just Tyler getting caught up in the moment?

When you pulled into the motel parking lot, the tension was still simmering beneath your skin. Tyler parked the truck, turned off the engine, and hopped out, coming around to open your door like he always did. You followed him up the stairs to your room, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you turned to face him. “So…” you started, your voice careful, testing the waters.

Tyler paused, halfway through pulling his flannel shirt off. He tilted his head at you, a playful smirk teasing his lips. “So?” he repeated, his tone light.

You crossed your arms, shifting on your feet. “What happened back there… at the bar,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “Was that real? Or are you gonna wake up tomorrow and tell the team it was all some big joke? Just you messing around for some laughs?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you regretted saying anything. But then Tyler stepped closer, his flannel discarded on the back of a chair, leaving him in just his plain white t-shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways.

“Darlin’,” he said softly, his voice steady, “do I look like I’m joking to you?”

You glanced up at him, searching his face for any hint of hesitation. But all you saw was certainty.

“I meant every word I said tonight,” Tyler continued, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you a step closer. “You’re mine. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice. “But… you said we needed to keep things low-key,” you reminded him, though your voice wavered.

“That was before,” he said simply, his thumb brushing along your side. “Before I realized how much I hated watchin’ someone else try to take what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill down your spine, but it was the tenderness in his eyes that made you melt.

“Tyler…” you whispered, but whatever you were going to say next was lost as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It started slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. But as you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, it deepened, his grip on your waist tightening as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Tyler walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, the curve of your jaw—each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours.

“Does that feel like I’m jokin’?” he murmured, his voice rough and low.

You shook your head, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “No,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

He grinned, that familiar cocky charm flashing through for just a second. “Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again.

The kiss deepened as Tyler pressed you back onto the bed, his hands trailing down your sides with a possessiveness that sent shivers through you. His touch wasn’t rushed—no, Tyler Owens was deliberate, savoring every moment as though he had all the time in the world to prove his point.

When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his hair slightly mussed from your fingers. The sight of him like this—raw, unguarded—made your heart race. He sat back on his knees, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. He tugged it up and then peeled it up over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hands roamed your bare skin, his touch warm and grounding, but his eyes were what made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice roughened by desire. His thumb traced along the edge of your bra, just barely brushing your skin. “All mine.”

His words sent heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into his touch. Tyler leaned down, his lips brushing the column of your throat.

“Every inch of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, “belongs to me.”

He kissed his way down, his lips teasing, his hands skillfully finding the clasp of your bra and unhooking it with ease. As he slid the straps from your shoulders, his gaze was reverent, almost awed.

“My girl,” he said, his voice low. His hands moved to your waist again, hooking into the band of your jeans.

As the cool air hit your skin, you bit your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatened to escape. Tyler noticed immediately, his sharp gaze flicking up to meet yours. His head tilted slightly, and his lips curled into a smirk that sent a wave of both heat and embarrassment through you.

“None of that,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, coaxing it free from your teeth. “They all know now, sweetheart. No need to hide.”

Your eyes widened, and you gave him a look that was part incredulous, part exasperated. “Tyler, we can’t …what if we get a noise complaint!”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich as his hands slid down to rest on your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, maddening circles.

“I don’t care about a noise complaint,” he said, leaning down until his lips were barely an inch from yours. “The team knows. Hell, everyone at the bar knows. But now…” His smirk widened, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Now it’s time every chaser in this motel knows who you belong to.”

“Tyler,” you started, but before you could get another word out, his mouth was on yours again, silencing your protest. His kiss was commanding, his hands sliding over your body in a way that left no room for doubt about his intentions. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes blazing with something primal.

“Now,” he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin. “Who do you belong to?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, he shifted, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. His tongue flicked against your skin, and the combination of his touch and his words sent a bolt of pleasure straight through you.

“Tyler,” you moaned, his name spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, that infuriatingly smug smirk firmly in place. “That’s right, baby,” he said, his voice like a low growl. “Say it again.”

You glared at him, your face heating with both embarrassment and arousal, but the challenge in his eyes only spurred you on. “You,” you said breathlessly, your voice trembling with need. “I belong to you.”

His grin softened slightly, turning into something warmer, something that made your chest ache. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, and when he pulled back, his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you close.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and the possessiveness in his voice was tempered by an unmistakable tenderness.

As he kissed you again, deeper this time, your earlier doubts and insecurities melted away. Tyler wasn’t just claiming you—he was showing you, in every touch and every word, that he meant it.

Tyler’s hands moved over your body with a slow reverence, his touch igniting sparks wherever his fingertips lingered. The playful smirk that had been on his face earlier softened into something else—something deeper. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze steady and intense as if he wanted to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

He finished undressing you as he slid your panties agonizingly slow down your legs, letting them fall away as his hands brushed your hips. The air felt charged like you were both standing on the edge of something bigger than either of you could name.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky but carrying a weight of sincerity that made your chest tighten.

Your hand found its way to his face, fingers brushing the sharp line of his jaw. “Tyler…” you whispered, but you couldn’t find the words to finish. The look in his eyes—unwavering and full of something unspoken—was undoing you.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, and then the tip of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, slow and deliberate. His hands framed your face as he kissed you fully again, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away.

He shifted, guiding your body beneath his as he shed the last of his clothing, his movements unhurried but purposeful. The heat of his skin against yours was electric, but it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—that had your heart pounding.

Tyler paused for a moment, his weight braced above you, his forehead resting against yours. His hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

“I need you to know,” he said, his voice low but steady. “This isn’t just…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “This isn’t just about wanting to fuck you. It’s more than that.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the raw vulnerability in them wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. You reached up, your hand tangling in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss, your lips conveying everything you couldn’t put into words.

When he finally started to push inside you, the moment felt like time had stopped. His movements were slow, measured, as if he were afraid of rushing it. This wasn’t like the other times you’d been with Tyler before. Every time before had felt like it was just physical. Practically ripping clothes off of each other and hot and heated kisses him getting inside of you as fast as he could.

But this time…this time his touches were just a little softer. His kisses were just a little deeper. And the way he was holding you, like he was cherishing you made you swoon.

As he moved with you, his hands roamed your body. He murmured your name like a prayer, each syllable dripping with affection. And when your hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging slightly into his skin, he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away.

You couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped your lips, your body responding to his in ways that felt like second nature. But it wasn’t just physical—there was something so much deeper in the way he held you, the way his hand laced with yours, fingers intertwining as though he needed to feel connected to every part of you.

It wasn’t long before the tension building between you both crested, your body trembling in his arms as your climax washed over you. Tyler held you close, whispering soothing words in your ear. When he followed moments later, his face buried in the crook of your neck, the quiet groan that escaped his lips sent another shiver down your spine.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breathing the only sound in the room. Tyler finally shifted, rolling to his side but pulling you with him so that you stayed nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as though letting go was not an option.

He pressed a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there as he murmured, “I meant it, you know. You’re mine.”

You looked up at him, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “And you’re mine,” you said softly, the words feeling like a vow.

His lips curved into a soft smile, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your back. “Damn right, I am.”

As you lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the moment settled over you. This wasn’t just another night, another stolen moment of passion. This was the start of something new—something real.

And as Tyler held you close, his breathing evening out as sleep began to claim him, you couldn’t help but think that for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly as it should.

[d-lanx]

I transcribed what McIntyre said to Punk after his mania match

(I did this instead of working on my dissertation and it took an hour of messing with audio and replaying it until I could hear properly)

Essentially, he was saying that Punk is a good commentator and should keep doing it because if he ever wrestles again, McIntyre will end his career. He also really just wanted to rub his win in Punk’s face. Full Transcription is below the photo if you care.

Speakers

P: CM Punk

D: Drew McIntyre

M: Pat McAfee

G: Corey Graves

C: Michael Cole

(ST) is used when multiple things are said at the same time.

Transcription

P: Well, my hat goes off to the champ. I’m not gonna tell him he’s gonna keep it warm for me because I don’t know what the future holds.

*McIntyre stares at Punk, who stares back.*

M: I think he has an idea of what the future holds.

*McIntyre walks towards the commentary table.*

P: Ah. I’ve been here before.

*McIntyre gestures for the other commentators to move out of the way and they do.*

C: Ok.

P: Be careful. Be careful, Drew. Your wife’s here.

*McIntyre climbs onto the table and crawls towards Punk, pushing the belt towards him.*

M: Like a jungle cat on our commentary desk.

*Punk applauds him.*

P: Congratulations. Have fun taking selfies on the internet with it.

*McIntyre kneels on the desk in front of Punk.*

D: I want you to know, every single thing I’ve said about you, I meant every single word.

P: I want you to know that I can’t hear a word you’re saying because I have cans on.

D: And let me tell you something. Right where you’re sitting, I’ll give you props, you got that down like nobody else. Step back in that ring ever again, I won’t put you out for a few months, I’ll end your career.

*Punk laughs.*

D: I’m not playing you; you think it’s funny? I’m not playing you.

P: I think it’s hilarious.

(ST) P: People bigger than you have told me that my career is over.

(ST) D: You’re welcome here.

D: Step back in the ring, I’ll end your career. This is my moment.

P: It is your moment. Why are you- why are you here? Why are you in my face? Why are you making it about me?

D: Because I want to rub it in your goddamn face!

*McIntyre gets up to crouch in front of Punk with the belt.*

(ST) D: Get this shot! I want this framed on my wall!

(ST) P: Alright man. Alright get it.

*Crowd starts chanting “CM Punk”.*

P: I ain’t never won a title and heard other people chanting somebody else’s name.

*McIntyre stands up and gives the DX “suck it” gesture with one hand while holding the belt in the other.*

M: Oh geez.

P: Alright. Ok.

M: Right in his face. He did that right in his face.

*Punk knocks McIntyre over and starts a fight.*

G: Wait a minute!

C: Oh my God!

[thlayli-ra]

Trick or treat is such a fun idea!

Could I request a Punkintyre ficlet with the shock collar prompt 🥺 (I would very much appreciate Drew being the one in the collar but I leave the details in your very capable hands)

Ok so, just, let me explain myself here! By the time this prompt came through I had already received the Cody Rhodes 'Shock Collar' prompt and I didn't want to essentially write the same fic so I tried to come up with something different and I couldn't stop thinking about this gifset from Bad Blood and @fantasticalleigh 's tags on it about Punk and Drew being like two beasts mating in captivity, and it made me think of the original Planet of the Apes movie and well... this is the final result. Hope it's kinda, sorta what you were hoping for (I'm sorry!)??? 😬

Trick - 'Shock Collar'

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre

Rating - Mature (18+)

Warning Tags - Alien Abduction, Drugging, Breeding, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Rough Sex

'Punk! Wake up! Wake up, ye stupid prick!'

A meaty palm slapped his cheek, stirring him from his deep sleep. 'Ow!' Punk grunted moodily. 'What the fuck's wrong with you?'

It was then that he saw the raw terror in Drew McIntyre's eyes. 'Everything is wrong! Everything is as fucking wrong as it can possibly be!'

His vision started juddering back into focus and Punk spied the metal above Drew's head. For a split second he thought they were both in the Cell, and that he'd taken a bad bump and passed out during their match but he soon realised that these were not the zig-zag mesh of Hell in a Cell.

These were bars!

They were both locked in some kind of cage!

Punk sat up like a shot to look around. The cage was large, more like an enclosure, and rich in foliage, wiry bushes, dirt and rocks. Punk was lying on a bed of hay in the top-most corner, under a bamboo canopy like some kind of animal in a zoo.

'Drew?' he stammered out. 'Where the hell are we?'

'I have no idea...'

The large Scot lumbered up to his feet and tentatively stepped out from under the canopy and into the make-shift forest. Behind him, Punk gawked when he noticed Drew's attire. Or lack of it! 'What are you wearing?'

Drew glanced down at the sparse shred of clothing to his name - a loin-cloth made from animal pelt draped around his waist and a metal collar around his neck. 'Same as you,' he shot back and Punk looked down and found to his horror that Drew was right. Letting out a curse, he shoved the front of his loin cloth down between his legs to give himself some decency then moved his fingers up to inspect the steel collar at his throat. It was bolted fast. The panic escalated into full-on alarm! 'What the fuck is going on?'

'Shh,' Drew hushed him, his ears pricked.

'You hear something?' Punk whispered.

'Shut up!'

Drew edged his way forward, reaching out his long arm to swipe through a clump of giant leaves and push them aside to reveal-

'JESUS CHRIST!' Drew toppled backwards with fright, landing hard on his lower back.

'FUCK!' Punk yelled, shuffling further back into his corner.

Quick as a flash Drew rushed up beside him, the two men shaking with terror. 'You saw that, right?' the Scot asked.

'Yeah,' Punk hushed out, trying to process what he had just seen. 'Yeah I saw it.'

Behind the leaves there had been a gap in the bars, filled with what looked like glass. A viewing gallery to peer into their enclosure. And there standing at the window were two figures crafted from their very nightmares. Impossibly tall and thin, something not of his world or the limits of his understanding, something that was completely...

...alien!

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek tore through Punk's head. He let out a wail as the pain screeched behind his eyes, covering his ears to try and stifle the blare.

'-creatures of P-0087453-E,' a tinny voice spoke inside Punk's very skull. 'We believe they refer to it as Earth-'

'W-what's happening?' Drew gritted out through his clenched teeth, tearing at his hair. He could hear it too!

'I don't know, I- GAH!'

'-simple creatures, not highly advanced. They can be prone to acts of violence and aggression, acting purely on their most basic urges-'

'I can hear a voice!' Punk yelled over the static in his skull. 'I think... I think it's them. Whatever they are!'

'I hear it too. How is that possible?'

'I have no idea! AAAGHHH!' The pain was growing, like somebody was blasting a badly tuned radio in his head.

'-but incredibly rare and valuable. Which is why our experts identified these two as a fertile pair and brought them here for our breeding programme-'

Punk froze. Had he really heard that right? Or did he just imagine it? Glancing up at Drew he was shocked to find the Scot looking deathly pale. He was afraid the larger man was about to keel over any second and shook him roughly by the shoulder to snap him out of his stupor. 'Hey, you ok?'

'This can't be happening! This is all some fucked up dream. This can't be-'

'-we will start our programme by activating the pheromones in the dominant male-'

Punk's stomach fell out from under him, wondering what on Earth that meant! Perhaps there was some kind of mechanism in the cage that would spray it into the enclosure? Anticipating it, he grabbed in a lungful of air and held it, waiting, listening, watching for anything to happen.

But nothing did.

He released his breath with a loud gasp, coughing oxygen back into his bloodstream. 'I think we're in the clear,' he told Drew, 'I didn't see or hear anything and I don't feel any different so-'

Drew let out a heavy grunt beside him, cutting him off and Punk turned to find the Scot shaking his head like he was trying to fend off an incoming sneeze.

'Drew? What's wrong?'

Drew's head shot up, his gaze finding Punk and fixing on him. His pupils were completely blown, erasing all the blue from his eyes. Making him resemble some kind of wild animal in the woods, a bear or wolf or... no, more like a shark circling the water, smelling fresh blood. Strong and dangerous. And hungry!

Guess he'd just found out who the so-called 'dominant male' was, and if that was Drew, then what exactly did that make Punk?

'Pheromones activated. Now all we have to do is wait and we'll hopefully see the mating rituals of this fascinating species.'

Shhhhhit! 'D-Drew?'

But the larger man wasn't listening! Settling onto his haunches like a crouched tiger, he began to stalk closer to his prey who scrabbled backwards with a yelp but where could Punk go? They were completely caged in and inevitably his spine collided with the metal bars of the cage, cutting off his retreat. Drew was on him now, mammoth arms boxing him in on either side and trapping him completely.

'Drew! Snap out of- urk!'

Punk's heart twisted with fear when Drew's bear paw found his chin, grasped it and lifted it up like he had done so many times before. The black, lifeless eyes looked him all over, Drew tilting his head slightly and giving that exact same elated smirk he'd worn back in the Cell at the first sight of Punk's blood. The hand at his chin then went for his throat, wrapping around Punk's collar and pushing him back until the base of his skull clattered against the bars.

Eyes clouded. No thoughts, only instinct.

'Drew! Hey McIntyre, listen to me!' Punk tried to break through the Scot's hysteria, tried to snap him out of this trance. 'You gotta fight it, you hear me? Fight it!'

But it was in vain. Punk's mouth was abruptly gagged by Drew's invading tongue, the larger man growling and snarling, rumbles vibrating down his throat and through their chests pressed together, while large, thick hands stroked all over Punk's shoulders and back and chest and nipples then trailed down his ribs and stomach and pelvis to-

'NO!' Punk wrenched his face to the side, freeing his mouth. His hand grabbed hold of Drew's wrist, stopping it in its tracks. 'GET OFF! STOP IT, DREW! THIS ISN'T YOU!'

And then the blue flickered back into Drew's eyes and for a brief moment, his humanity returned, only to be engulfed once again. 'No, no, no, no,' Drew pushed himself off of Punk, stumbling away. Punk, still packed tight against the bars of the cage, watched as the Scot roared in distress, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, twisting his head from left-to-right and back again, a man trying to evade a swarm of invisible wasps.

'No,' he growled under his breath. 'No, not like this! Not this way!' Drew blinked the blue back into his eyes, holding onto himself again, however fleetingly. Then turned his attention towards the window of terror hidden away at the far end of the cage. 'No!' he spat at their captors, 'I won't!'

'-hmm, perhaps the first dose wasn't strong enough. Activating a second dosage-'

This time, Punk saw the powder puff up from Drew's metal collar, engulfing his face, and like before he struggled and writhed, trying to evade the poison but it was clinging to him, following him around the enclosure no matter how far he tried to run. His roars filled the air, Punk quaking with fear at its feral nature. Too scared to move, he watched as the huge Scotsman bent down and heaved a huge rock right up out of the ground.

'What the hell is he-?'

Drew rushed towards the observation window, the boulder raised high, meaning to throw it right through the glass and shatter it to smithereens.

'Immediate threat detected. Engaging collar!'

A loud crackle and Drew tossed his head back, screaming in agony. The boulder plunged from his arms and his body soon followed, both hitting the floor with a crash.

Punk leapt up to his feet, his heart in his throat.

'There, that should pacify him-'

But their captors grossly underestimated the fortitude of their prisoner. 'I'm no some beast in a cage,' he croaked, dragged his arms under him to push himself up, 'and you won't reduce me to one!'

'Shock him again!'

Another crackle and Drew fell onto his back, spine rigid and arched painfully off the filthy floor, howling through his gritted teeth, until the shockwave released him and all four limbs flopped, lifelessly. From his position by the bars, Punk held his breath, looking for any sign of life.

It all seemed hopeless. Until Drew rolled his hips back.

Unbelievably, he flipped up onto his feet in a perfect kip-up, just like he would in the ring and before they had a chance to shock him again, he grabbed up the boulder and launched it through the air with all his might.

'WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT!'

Drew went down with another terrible shockwave just as the boulder crashed against the glass, not shattering it but creating a crack that almost split the screen in two. Only this time, the gruelling torture didn't stop. The shocks continued, the Scot's body contorted horribly, flailing rigidly in the dirt. Punk rushed towards him, hearing the electricity running through his fellow wrestler, seeing the turmoil on his face. He looked towards that window of terror, and the creatures hidden behind the fractured spiderweb of broken glass.

'That's enough!' he yelled towards it, hoping that, by some miracle, if he could hear those things that they could hear him too. 'You'll kill him! Stop!'

But still the jolts continued, one after the other. And now Drew wasn't screaming anymore and Punk could see froth foaming at his mouth, his blue eyes rolling into the back of his head.

'I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!'

Still nothing. Punk's head went blank with panic, desperation.

'WE'LL DO IT! WE'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST TURN OFF THE COLLAR FOR FUCK'S SAKE!'

And finally... the crackling stopped. Followed by dreadful silence, highlighting the heavy breathing of both men and the putrid smell of burning flesh in the air.

'Punk...'

Punk's eyes found Drew's weakly fluttering back at him, pain-filled and weak. Ringed by the tiniest sliver of blue. 'It's ok, Drew, it's alright.'

'No... don't...'

Looking around him, Punk found the perfect spot and shuffled over to a large, flat rock. Slumping down to his knees, he bent over and lay atop the cold surface, lifting his hips up into the air.

Nothing happened. He looked back to find Drew where he left him, refusing to move.

'Come on Drew, it's alright. Just do as they say.' The Scot shook his head stubbornly. 'One little fuck isn't worth killing yourself over. Anyway, isn't this what you've wanted this whole time?'

'Not like this,' Drew choked out with a sob.

'If they kill one of us, they'll kill both of us,' Punk protested. 'The only chance we have of getting out of this is by sticking together.'

But still, Drew refused to move.

Punk sighed with defeat. Turning his face away, he placed his cheek against the cold rock and whispered, 'hit him with the pheromones again.'

From behind him, he could hear Drew call 'what did you just- urgh!' Then he held his breath and waited.

It didn't take long for Drew to crawl over, sniffing like a curious beast at Punk's rear. The tattooed man flinched when his loin cloth was ripped up, exposing his open cheeks and Drew mounted him from behind, his hairy chest and stomach rubbing up against his bare back. Two huge fists wrapped around Punk's skinny wrists and held them down, keeping Punk securely pinned on his front to the rock face as Drew rubbed his sopping wet and rock hard dick between Punk's glutes, prodding his head around until it lined up against his puckered hole.

Then rammed himself in. Punk choked on a cry of pain, a terrible burning at his rectum as he was stretched wide and entered. The beast on his back hooking himself into his body, breaking through the seal and into his guts, tearing him open.

No thoughts, only instinct.

And Punk closed his eyes and tried to fight the growing ache between his own legs and Drew's hands shackling his wrists tightly, and his warm breath grunting against his ear and his sweat falling onto Punk's back and pooling in that small hollow at the base of his spine and his huge dick ravishing him again and again.

But soon the blood and the pre-cum lubricated his passage, and Drew began to move easier and the thrusts became long and powerful and struck that perfect little sweet spot deep inside of him and Punk began to hear the crackles in his own skull and see the explosions of electricity behind his own eyelids and in an instant, he forgot the cage, the window, their plight and he became lost in the throes of the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. Opening his thighs up wider to entice Drew in even further, his lips fell open and he moaned, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the stone beneath him.

Drew began to pump in harder, scrubbing Punk's naked chest against the jagged rock and Punk was so helpless, caught in the larger man's strong grip and he couldn't help but love his helplessness, being held down and bred like a bitch in heat, all while being watched, being observed. A thought bubbled to the surface of his consciousness, wondering if he too had been hit with some kind of pheromone to muddle his senses but it fell away again when Drew hit his bundle of nerves head-on with the blunt tip of his dick. His own cock was full to bursting and it was too much to bear and when he let out a strangled cry, Drew obliged him by letting go of his wrist and grabbing him between the legs, pumping his shaft with a taut grip, the pad of his thumb teasing his slit.

'Fascinating! We always wondered how two males of this species mated and now we know it's through the-'

Punk went blind and deaf and even the blaring static in his head was drowned out as warm cum seeped into him and out of him, sopping from his wrecked hole and between his swollen cheeks and down his ragged thighs onto the dirt below. Drew collapsed onto him, nuzzling his face into the hollow between Punk's shoulder blades and kissed his flushed skin tenderly. 'S'you ok?' was all Punk's numb lips could form. Drew answered with a throaty purr.

Later, the pair were up on the hay under the canopy, Punk firmly snuggled in Drew's arms, both of them fast asleep. But something stirred the tattooed man slightly from his slumber, a tinny voice echoing around his skull.

'-a success. But this is only phase one of our breeding programme. Tomorrow we'll prep the submissive male for surgery and move into phase two-'

[south-of-heaven]

Masterlist

Requests are closed

Rules

NSFW HC's

A

AJ Styles

Asuka

Andrade

Alexa Bliss

A to Z - Aleister & Zelina

B

Bayley

Brollins

Becky Lynch

BRE

Bianca Belair

Brandi Rhodes

Brody - Brandi & Cody

Baylor - Bayley & Finn

Browsey - Ronda & Travis

Brie Bella

Beth Phoenix

Brody King

C

Cody Rhodes

Charlotte Flair

Chyna

Cheddie - Chyna & Eddie

Carmella

Candice LeRae

Claudio Castagnoli/Cesaro

Chandrade - Charlotte & Andrade

Cathy Kelley

D

Damian Priest

Damage CTRL

Dakota Kai

Drew McIntyre

Dominik Mysterio

Dexter Lumis

E

Edge

Eddie Guerrero

F

Four Horsewomen - WWE Four Horsewomen - UFC

Finn Balor

G

Glowish - Naomi & Jimmy

H

House of Black

I

Iyo Sky

Indi Hartwell

InDex - Indi & Dexter

J

Judgement Day

Jessamyn Duke

Jon Moxley

Jey Uso

Jimmy Uso

Jade Cargill

Julia Hart

Jeff Hardy

K

Karl Anderson

Kairi Sane

Karrion Kross

L

Lita

Lyra Valkyria

Liv Morgan (No longer writing for)

Liv 4 Brutality - Liv & Rhea

M

Mia Yim

Marina Shafir

Moriguez - Liv & Raquel

Malakai/Aleister Black

Moxuette - Jon & Renee

N

Natalya Neidhart

Nikki Bella

Naomi

O

P

Phoenix-Edge - Beth & Edge

Q

Queen of Harts - Shayna & Nattie

R

Rhea Ripley

Rhuddy - Rhea & Buddy

Ronda Rousey

Renee Paquette

Ruby Riott/Soho

Roman Reigns

Ronattie - Ronda & Nattie

RnR - Rhea & Raquel

Raquel Rodriguez

S

Shayna Baszler

Starkszler - Shayna & Zoey

Sheamus

Stephanie McMahon

Sonya Deville

Seth Rollins Masterlist

Scarlett Bordeaux

Shawn Michaels (not currently writing for)

Scarrion - Scarlett & Karrion

Saraya Knight

Sasha Banks

T

Triple H

The Big Three - Jade, Bianca, & Naomi

Trish Stratus

Team Bestie - Lita & Trish

The Rated R Couple - Lita & Edge

Troey - Trish & Zoey

Toni Storm

U

V

W

X

Y

Z

Zelina Vega

Zekota - Zelina & Dakota

Zoey Stark

[motor-city-selfryed]

☆ MOTOR-CITY-SELFRYED’S INTRO POST ☆

banner by the amazing @wrestlesource <3

☆ _______☆ old users: selfryedxpunk -> imnotselfryed -> punk-o-ween ☆ _______☆

on break, will be liking/reblogging things but not posting/liveblogging. (unless the mcmg arrives that is)

----☆ go follow my bestie westie pookie wookies @all4rhea (seo), @lixzstickz (lix), and @cr33p-a-z01d (ryan) yall r so lit and iconic and a slay love u guys sm /p !! ^_^ 🐬🌈

----☆ byf: im a minor but im extremely freaky for the ppl i love my bad, i LOVE rpf (real person fiction) in wrestling so if you dont like seeing wrestlers shipped together then this is not the place 😹

art tag | mcmg liveblogs | asks tag | yaps tag | wwe lb tag | aew lb tag

☆ _______☆☆ _______☆☆ _______☆☆ _______☆

🔆 hi im zari !! welcome to my blog! this is where i post about the only things that matter (my hyperfixations)...you may know me from my art side blog, where i post my artwork there! @selfryed (or you embarassingly know me from my live blogs)

🔆 some things about me: im an asexual biromantic + girlflux :-), tone tags r highly appreciated! i may yap or ramble when asked abt my interests, i apologise...

🔆 im a multifandom girlie! i REALLY REALLY REALLY love MCR (my chemical romance), green day, and WWE…they are my special interests! but you will find me reblogging/posting abt other things as well, especially good omens.

----☆ my current hyperfixations are the mcmg (extremely oh its so bad, its funny bc im actually from detroit 🔥) and cm punk (more of a spinterest, loved him for a year now!)

☆**side note! i understand if you may not like my faves, specifically cm punk, but please do not mention your hatred for him around me since it would be extremely rude to do so considering im hyperfixated on him. not cool!! :-(**☆

🔆 i usually live blog for wwe and aew + all the pay per views/PLEs they may have! the tag #wwe lb and #aew lb is where all of them are (beware LMAO)

----☆ wwe beloveds: cm punk, drew mcintyre, motor city machine guns, hangman adam page, the hardy boyz, aj styles, joe hendry, zachary wentz, edge, bret hart, shawn michaels, diesel, bianca belair, naomi, jade cargil, seth rollins/the shield, r-truth, cody rhodes, damien priest, kevin owens, aj lee, lita, rhea ripley, roxanne perez, iyo sky, liv morgan, zaria, jaida parker, hikaru shida, konosuke takeshita, adam cole, MJF, darby allin, karrion kross, scarlett, etc <3

----☆ other faves: stone temple pilots, laufey, radiohead, mitski, the beatles, queen, the smiths, pixies, pavement, etc // other interests: guardians of the galaxy/marvel, doctor who (4th doctor only), the last of us, hamilton, twd, etc

----☆ shoutout to all my moots! if you want to be friends, just ask!!! i would mostly want it to be within my age range (minor) but i don't mind adults being here as long as you know boundaries (not dming unless i allow it, not asking for things, etc)!! i also dont follow nsfw accounts just bc i don’t like seeing that kinda content on my feed :-)

🔆 if you want to follow/catch me on other sites, i have a youtube, pinterest, discord, bluesky, and airbuds! all by the name of @/selfryed <3

☆ _______☆ shutting down.... ☆ _______☆

[lifeatthebottomofthesea]

https://shop.wwe.com/en/mens-black-drew-mcintyre-money-in-the-bank-2024-winner-t-shirt/p-355534879439013828+z-91-1331854018?

They did NOT do this 😭😭😭

[fanfictiondiscount]

🟥—{ This is a list of people and Characters I write for. A list of things I DONT write for will be at the bottom}—🟥

---------------------------------------------------

CELEBRITIES

• Sebastian Stan

• Evan Peters

• Josh Hutcherson

• Harry styles

• Ashton Irwin

• Niall Horan

• Michael Clifford

• Ross Lynch

• Billie eilish

• Frank iero

• Nikki Sixx

• Tommy Lee

• Noah Kahan

---------------------------------------------------

MARVEL:

• Bucky Barnes

• Yelena B.

• Steve Rogers

• Wanda Maximoff

---------------------------------------------------

OUTERBANKS:

• JJ Maybank

• Rafe Cameron

• John B

---------------------------------------------------

RANDOMS:

• Jessie (Full House)

• Dayton White ( Logan lucky)

• Finnick O. ( Hunger Games )

• Dean Wenchester ( Supernatural)

• Spencer Reid ( Criminal Minds )

• Han Lue ( Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift )

---------------------------------------------------

WWE:

• Dominick Mysterio

• Rhea Ripley

• Cody Rhodes

• Roman Reigns

• Randy Orton

• Liv Morgan

• CM Punk

• Damian Priest

• Drew McIntyre( maybe idk yet )

---------------------------------------------------

DISNEY:

• Kristoff

• Flynn Rider

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🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥

I DO NOT WRITE FOR THE FOLLOWING

🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥🟥

---------------------------------------------------

• R@pe (noncon)

• p!SS k!nk

• Feet....😐

(i think you get it)

[ripleyflair]

[angrymarks]

Drew McIntyre, P. Brooks, Tiffany Stratton, John Cena, MITB & WWE Videos, CMLL Viernes, GCW, Shawn Michaels - Sunday's News

http://dlvr.it/T9G4gK

[primcrdialchaos]

that shot of drew mcintyre standing over a bloody cm punk with the roller door opening

fuck my p can only get so eject

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.