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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years ago

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Branded - Chapter 53

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The ritual begins.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Blood, whump

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Walking into the ritual room, as you now called it, felt more like you were walking to the executioner’s block rather than to perform some magic. Maybe they would end up being one and the same.

Thankfully, there were only three other people in the room besides you. Bucky had balked at being informed there would be several other sorcerers in attendance, and after observing his memories, both in person and through old, grainy film, you could understand why a room full of people during a ritual would be terrifying.

So now there was only you, Strange, Wong, and Bucky. The latter held your attention as soon as you stepped in the room. He appeared calm on the outside, despite the fact he was strapped down with a stone table, but you would recognize the glassy fear in his eyes as intimately as if you’d looked in the mirror.

Bucky wasn’t scared of you, you knew that, but unease gripped your throat still as you approached the table. He was restrained, for his safety and for yours. The thin, silver manacles around his wrists and ankles glimmered in the light cast by the lamps around the room. A room where you’d witnessed a demon exorcism, watched Bucky frozen, and now you would be performing a spell no one had ever done before.

Generally speaking, this wasn’t a room where nice things happened. You could only hope to break that pattern.

“Are you ready?” you asked him, reaching out and taking his hand. He wrapped his fingers around yours without hesitation. Despite the chill in the room, there was sweat beading on his bare chest. All he wore were a pair of dark pants, his wings folded up behind his back, and his searching tail grasped yours as quickly as his hand had done.

“Yeah.” Bucky swallowed down the gravel in his voice. “Ready.”

You reluctantly let go with one last squeeze of your fingers. Bucky’s tail uncoiled from yours, and you missed the contact as soon as it was gone.

Oh-fucking-kay, you thought, taking a deep breath as you positioned yourself at the side of the stone table. Remember to speak clearly, and keep your thoughts clearer. Intention is more important than the words themselves.

Bucky stared up at you, but only for a moment, his jaw working as he braced himself. And then he turned his eyes up to the ceiling, staring blankly, bracing himself for what came next.

It reminded you less of someone visiting the dentist’s office, and more of someone expecting to be brutally tortured for hours. God, you hoped that wasn’t going to be the case, because you weren’t sure if you could stop the spell safely in the middle.

You stared off slow, meticulous, drawing glowing circles and patterns into the air above Bucky’s prone form. Above his chest, his head, various points of “power” all along his body, focusing most of it above the sigil on his left shoulder. That would be the gateway, the focal point of the demonic energy that was bonded to him.

That sigil had been the main focus on your studies, and you’d even taken some time to see if, by some small miracle, the effects could be reversed—that you could cast the demon energy out of Bucky permanently. You found it was impossible, not without killing Bucky in the process, so that idea was firmly thrown out the window. Finding a way to make sure no one could enslave him again was the least you could do, but if it worked, it would hopefully make the demon side more bearable for him to live with.

You chanted the words in Latin, ones that would open Bucky to be bonded to another, but hopefully not in the role of a slave. He gritted his teeth but didn’t make a sound, sweat glistening on his forehead as his breathing quickened. You were tempted to rush it, to ease his discomfort quicker, but you didn’t dare. You would go slow and make sure it was perfect.

After that, you said words that weren’t written in any book. They would signify your willingness to join Bucky in a pact, a consensual one where you were both equals. It wasn’t all that different than making a human pact, except you were saying the intention part out loud, in the language of demon magic, and hoping it was enough.

It should have been. And yet, when you were done speaking them. Nothing happened.

You met Bucky’s eye, the reluctance in them palpable. You both knew gaining direct access to Bucky’s demon side might take more than a few words.

With an apologetic wince, you turned toward the stone podium nearby. On its surface was a red velvet cloth, and on top of that, a glittering onyx blade. Curling your fingers around the athame, the very tool that had done this to Bucky, felt wrong. Profane. You’d never wanted to see it again, especially after witnessing Zemo use it on him, but there was no other option if you wanted to harness the energy within the sigil.

“Are you sure you’re still okay with this?” you asked, voice lowered so it reached no further than Bucky. “We can back out now. It’s not too late.”

“I’m fine.”

He looked anything but fine. As soon as you’d touched the knife, his brows had tensed and his breathing quickened, his tail tightly wrapped around his leg.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath and poised the blade above his shoulder, stomach queasy as you fought not to tremble. This was not the time to have shaky hands. “Tell me if you need to stop.”

Bucky nodded but said nothing. There was nothing more to say. You both knew at a certain point, you would either have to complete the ritual as intended… or seal Bucky to you, becoming his master. Once the pentagram was cut open by the athame, there was no going back.

Teeth clenched together, your heart in your throat, you aimed the edge of the blade… and sliced downwards.

Nothing could have prepared you for Bucky’s reaction to the knife. It was a blessing you were no longer connected, because you would have been too overwhelmed in agony, frozen while Bucky screamed and writhed against the restraints.

The violent reaction, you were prepared for. What you weren’t prepared for was the stones trembling at your feet and the rumble of the walls shaking, causing the lamps to flicker and dust to sprinkle from cracks in the ceiling.

The energy pouring out of Bucky’s wound was searing and nearly blinding. You’d never been aware of it before, but now it was nearly overwhelming, your senses interpreting it as a blaring red light that felt exactly like the demon realm.

And if you didn’t do something, it would continue to pour out of Bucky, until it either killed him or it brought down the entire Sanctum.

The knife dropped from your fingers and you cast out a rapid spell. Fractals split in the air, surrounding you both a good distance on either side, trapping you in a glittering dome.

Strange and Wong were blocked just outside of the Mirror Dimension pocket you’d open. Wong’s stern face was fraught with worry, and even Strange seemed fearful as he banged his fists on the barrier. Orange glyphs glowed around his fists, but it would take time for them to break through.

You ignored them. Whatever happened inside the pocket wouldn’t damage the world outside, and either way, Bucky was still screaming through his teeth. He needed you more than they did.

Sweating, you picked up the athame and stared at the demonic energy coming from his shoulder, studying it, trying to understand how to harness it, even as the floor continued to rumble.

There had to be another way—

Bucky screamed again, and your composure wavered.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t take away his choice, his ability to make choices. Even if you never gave him a command on purpose, it could always happen on accident.

And what then? How was Bucky being your slave any better than you being his food source?

But what else could you do? What other choice did you have than to finish the one ritual you knew would work for certain? There was nothing you could do, nothing else that would—

When the moment comes and the obvious choice feels wrong… trust yourself to find a different answer.

The world seemed to quiet around you, replaced by the Ancient One’s words, so clear as if she’d just spoken in your ear.

The air rushed out of your lungs. Ignoring the world shaking around you, you raised the black knife to your right shoulder, and cut.

The blade sliced through your flesh as easily as it had through Bucky’s demonic skin, and you nearly dropped the knife as fire coursed through your body. Your sigil burned worse than it had ever done before, and tears sprang through your eyes as you stumbled to the stone slab.

Bucky continued to writhe, in so much agony he was completely unaware of his surroundings. You couldn’t tell him what you were doing, he was in no mind to hear it, let alone understand it. So you braced yourself when you took the knife and sliced through the manacle holding his left wrist.

Bucky’s claws would have torn a chunk out of you, but you grabbed his arm and held it against your side. With magic augmenting your own strength, you were able to keep him in place, even as the armored plates shifted and rose as he tried to pull free.

Warmth dripped from your shoulder, but you ignored it. There was a distant banging on the barrier of your pocket dimension, and you ignored that, too.

You focused on nothing else except Bucky’s arm, wedged between your elbow and your side.

“I’m sorry.”

You cut the palm of his demonic hand with the blade.

Bucky arched against the slab, his screams just as intense as anything HYDRA had done to him.

Tears leaked down your face as you thought I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over again.

Keeping his arm in place, you transferred the blade to your other hand and cut through your right palm with one swift movement. You were growing woozy and had to hurry.

Dropping the knife, you grabbed Bucky’s wrist and pulled his arm straight, hovering his bleeding left palm over your sigil, just as you positioned your own hand over his glowing shoulder.

Bucky fought against you the whole time, unaware of anything but the pain as he tried to draw his arm against his chest, but you held it firm.

At the same exact moment, you slammed his hand down onto your bleeding shoulder, just as your wounded palm pressed against his fiery pentagram.

Like a closed circuit, heat and electricity surged through your bodies in a loop. Light and heat exploded in your vision, demonic energy filling you past the point of control, and you were sure you were going to erupt in flames—

And then it stopped. The world went quiet, and dark, and then you heard…

Birds.

You opened your eyes. You weren’t in the room, or in the Sanctum at all. You were outdoors, in a yard, surrounded by trees whose leaves were bright green in preparation for the summer.

Both of your hands were curled around something metal, and you looked up to see your fingers wrapped around the chains of a very familiar swing set. Even more confusing, your legs weren’t dragging against the ground, but flat against it.

You leapt to your feet, stumbling because your legs were a lot shorter than you remembered.

“Bucky? Bucky!”

You clapped your hands over your mouth, startled by a high-pitched voice that had come from it.

You were a child again. And the backyard was none other than the one that belonged to your family home in Boston.

How did you get here? Where was Bucky? What the hell had happened?

“Ah, there you are.”

Your breath caught in your throat. No, it couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

And yet, when you slowly turned around, there she was, standing there. Alive and real and very much able to see you without question this time.

The Ancient One.

Next Chapter

#branded #demon!bucky barnes #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part 23) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 23: The Flagstaff Horsefair has turned out to be a huge success, but before they go home, an unexpected visitor changes everything. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean’s ride: Time Has No Mercy - The Common Linnets Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

The final day of the Flagstaff Horsefair 2008 is well on its way, the sun beating down on the market stalls and food trucks. Spectators mix with riders and trainers, some having drinks on the terras, others shopping at the tack and clothing stores. Giggling kids are chasing each other on the grass, the younger ones riding stick horses. Dean smiles at the children when they cross in front of him as he walks up towards the picture stand, slowing his step for a moment in order not to collide with the squealing youthful bunch.

By a van with ‘Equestrian Photo’ on the side, he pauses, then moves under the awning. The saleswoman gives out a printed photo to waiting clients on the side, wishing them a good day before she directs her attention to Dean. She greets him with a kind smile which the cowboy returns. Linda knows he doesn’t need help finding the images taken during this event, it’s not the first time the horse trainer has visited the photo stand over the years. Quite a few of the photos hanging on the walls in the Singer’s home and the cafeteria were made by Linda’s boss, the photographer who regularly works horse shows in the region. Ellen usually buys at least one when either he or Jo got on the podium. Dean isn’t interested in purchasing a photo of one of his own rides, though.

He looks up when the red-haired photographer stumbles into the van from the back entrance, one Nikon hanging from a sling, dangling on her hip, and another one on a monopod with a huge zoom lens attached to it resting against her shoulder. Her curls are wild and it’s clear she’s in a hurry, the next class about to start already. “Hi, Dean,” she greets, recognizing the familiar horseman instantly. “Hey.” He nods at her with a smile, his eyes flicking back to the screen. “How’s it going?” “Good. Busy,” she returns, taking out the battery of the cameras skillfully and swapping them for fully charged ones. “But busy is good these days, ain’t it? You had a few good runs, didn’t ya?” “Can’t complain,” he admits, grinning as he thinks about how successful this event has been so far. “Your student gave quite the performance last night,” the photographer smirks, handing Linda the memory card and taking back empty Sandisks to replace them with.

Dean looks up at her over the screen, noticing the mischief in her eyes. The way she just emphasized the word ‘student’ tells him that she knows exactly what’s up. He raises his eyebrows and chuckles, flustered. Looks like just about everyone in the business is up to speed at this point.

“Check out the ones at the bottom of the folder. You can thank me later,” the redhead advises, grabbing a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter before she heads for the back door again. “Gotta run!”

Somewhat confused, Dean watches her head off to the main arena, before he redirects his attention to the display in front of him again. Stills of last night’s highlights pass by, allowing him to relive the amazing moments. The shots of the actual run are great, although he can imagine that Y/N and Meadow aren’t the most difficult pair to shoot. The Quarter mare is very photogenic with her copper coat and broad white blaze. She’s elegant, much like her rider, who has a fantastic seat, which shows, even on a still image.

Curious what the capturer of these images means, the cowboy goes down further, reaching a series of photos that show the seconds right after Y/N finished her freestyle, her arms wrapped around her horse’s neck, hugging her tight. He makes a mental note to pick that one.

There are more of her coming towards the entrance, waving at the crowd, but it’s the next couple of shots that has his jaw fall slack. The photographer must have sprinted to the other side of the tunnel before the horse and rider left the ring, because she managed to document the exact moment when he and his girlfriend embraced, Y/N still in the saddle, his arm around her, the emotional release evident. Jo is holding on to Meadow’s reins on the other side, smiling as she watches her friend and her cousin.

The next photo shows just the two of them, standing in the gateway facing the arena while waiting for the score, followed by a shot of him lifting her off the ground when the realization of the new PR settled in. The final picture has to be his favorite. It’s one of the kiss they shared. The composition of the portrait is astonishing, the spotlights on the showground illuminating the figures in the center, silhouettes against the vibrant arena. His heart grows, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never thought he would be able to experience what he felt at that moment again, the great magnitude of pride, joy, and love. But this photo brings it all back, and he has to have it.

Still smiling at the warm feeling that has settled in his entire body, Dean scribbles down the file numbers on the order form and hands it to the blonde saleswoman, together with a fifty-dollar-bill. The wrangler bought six in total, one to frame and decorate the wall in the cafeteria, four for his girlfriend. The chosen photos are shots of horse and rider in a sliding stop, of the second right after finishing the test when Y/N threw her arms around Meadow’s neck, and of the precious embrace between him and his girl. He got a double print of the kiss they shared, one for her, one for him.

It’s a picture that he will cherish, come whatever. A picture he wants to be able to look at when he needs to, to remind himself of what he has got going for him. He knows challenging times are coming, with the ranch, with their relationship. Dean is well aware he’s approaching that inevitable turning point when he has to open up further than the lost boy with a dark past is comfortable with. But this photo, a moment forever frozen in time, will be the beacon he needs to find his way home.

Dean takes the envelope with the printed pictures from Linda and heads towards the ring. Jo is due to enter the arena in ten minutes and he wouldn’t want to miss it, for one, because she is going to bust his ass if he’s not there. It sometimes baffles him how his little cousin acts like she can’t stand being around him and yet searches for his approval so often.

He takes out the photo he wants to save for himself together with the one he will add to the cafeteria’s Wall of Fame, and slips them in the inner pocket of his denim jacket before he reaches the foot of the bleachers. With big strides, he conquers the steps, looking left and right in search of his friends once he has made it to the top. He spots Benny and Y/N on one of the higher rows when the farrier lifts his hat off his head and whistles. This barrel race is one of the highlights of the event and the arena is almost filled to full capacity, only a few seats left. Thankfully, his girlfriend saved him a spot.

His smile grows wider when he sees the cowgirl, and deep inside he’s excited to give her the present he just purchased. He can’t wait to witness her reaction. “I got you somethin’,” Dean announces. Intrigued, Y/N pulls her focus away from the competitor currently in the ring and looks at her boyfriend, awaiting. He offers her the envelope, placing his now empty hands on his knees, somewhat nervously. “What’s this?” she wonders, her curiosity peaked. “Open it,” the cowboy urges. She does, carefully folding back the seal flap and taking out the prints. When she turns them over, she lets out a stunned gasp, much to her boyfriend’s delight. “These are amazing!” she says, elated, going through the pictures of her and Meadow slowly.

The last two photos silence her, however, much like they did Dean when he first saw them on the screen. Moved, she takes in the portraits of the strong bond between her and the man that’s sitting next to her. After a few long seconds, she glances aside, meeting his warm eyes. This cowboy with a John Wayne reputation - as Jo so poetically put it - sure has his ways. He might not be very vocal when it comes to his feelings, but that’s alright, because he is able to communicate through different languages. A kiss, a dance, his trust, his support. And now these photos. It’s proof of his adoration for her, and it’s more valid than a signature.

She closes the small gap between them, moving under his hat, and grazes her soft lips over his. Ignoring his Southern friend, who lets out a low chuckle when he notices the lovebirds next to him, the head wrangler closes his eyes and kisses her back. His hand travels into her hair and holds her, making sure she doesn’t go anywhere. He can feel every connection; her featherlight fingertips on his stubble, her cute nose against his, her lashes dusting the freckles from his cheeks. Dean doesn’t need words, but neither does she.

When he slowly pulls away from her, he looks at her lovingly, forgetting time for a moment. It’s only when the commentator announces Jo’s name over the speakers, that they return their attention to the arena. The gate opens and his cousin and her horse Bullet shoot towards the first barrel, the animal doing his name justice. The three wranglers of the Gold Canyon ranch get on their feet, cheering on the blonde cowgirl, who goes through the course in record time. When she clocks a new PR, Y/N bounces on her feet, hugging Dean tight and letting out that laugh that he loves so much.

They don’t notice Benny’s gaze wandering off to the car park behind the bleaches. He has spotted a beige pickup pulling in. Like a hawk, the farrier follows the GMC truck. “We’re going over to Jo to celebrate. Are you coming?” The enthusiastic intern calls for Benny’s attention, and he turns his head to face his best pal’s girlfriend. “In a minute, darlin’,” he says, giving her a smile. “Gonna watch a few more runs.” “Alright, see you in a bit, brother,” Dean chuckles happily, before his girlfriend drags him towards the exit by his hand.

The Southerner watches them leave, then redirects his attention to the beat-up car on the field. A man gets out, his face shielded by a black cowboy hat. His posture seems familiar, he’s not even sure why. Benny narrows his eyes, but the figure is too far away to recognize. Then the frown evens out, his jaw falling slack. Suddenly, it clicks. “No fuckin’ way in hell…” he mumbles to himself.

But there ain’t no way, right? He can’t be here. Before Benny can decide otherwise, he bolts towards the steps to get down from the bleachers, hoping to not lose sight of the guy. He better make sure who just set foot on the showgrounds is exactly who he suspects he is, before he breaks the news to his best friend.

Dean swings the heavy saddle onto Aerosmith’s back, his last horse to compete at this tournament. After this run, all that’s left for him to do is coach Y/N and Joplin for their competition debut, and then they can all pack their gear and go home. Despite that he enjoys horse shows like these, he’s looking forward to his own room, his own bed. He’s looking forward to pulling up the driveway that leads to the place that is his home.

It has been a successful couple of days. With five horses sold and Joplin likely to add to that number, the Flagstaff Horsefair has proven to be very fruitful. Bobby made good money, and the ranch owner will be able to pay his crew, plus pay off some bills. Then there’s the business deal they landed with Fergus MacLeod. The cowboy might not like the Englishman in the slightest, but if they decide to take on Cain’s training, it will provide a much needed steady income. Dean isn’t delusional; he knows the ranch isn't out of the woods just yet, but it’s a start.

Humming and relaxed like he always is before competing, he tightens the cinch of the chestnut Quarter, petting him on the shoulder before he takes him out of the stable. “Good luck, cowboy.” The man who the words are meant for smiles, peeking into the stable next to him and noticing Y/N through the steel bars. She’s preparing Joplin, brushing her tail. Their starting time is only forty-five minutes after Dean’s, since both are competing in the same class. Sadly, she will not be able to see him ride. The mare next to his girlfriend pins her ears back and gives Aero a dirty look when the gelding comes too close for her liking. Both snigger at Joplin’s bitchy behavior.

“You’ll make it back in time to help me warm up, right?” she checks. “I’m kinda nervous, this being my first cutting competition and all.” “Yeah, of course,” he promises, shooting her a wink. “I’ll be there.”

Dean takes his horse outside, the Arizona sun welcoming him with bright light. A force of habit has him check his spurs and the tack before he positions himself on the left side of his horse in order to mount.

“Chief?” Looking over his shoulder, he sees Benny approaching. His strides are hasty, his jaw tensed. He checks if anyone is around before he halts and faces the head wrangler, who can read from the body language alone that something is off. “What is it?” he asks, his brows knitted together. The Southerner’s piercing blue eyes meet his gaze before he continues whispering. “I hate to do this now right before your run, brother, but--” “But what?” Dean urges when the farrier hesitates.

Benny draws in a deep breath and rubs his beard, needing a second to collect himself. He knows that what he is about to tell his best friend will have him shake on his foundations, but he needs to be prepared. He deserves to know who he might run into. The broad-shouldered ranch hand sighs, then delivers the unsettling message. “Your father is here.”

As if he just got struck by lightning, Dean stares at Benny, his eyes wide and mouth agape. The announcement rings in his ears, sounding more surreal every time the four words bounce off the walls inside his head. Reality hits him like a raging bull, however. His father is here. His father is here.

The head wrangler drops his gaze, his eyes flicking over little rocks and lumps of dirt by his feet. Speechless, he takes his hat off and wipes his forehead with his sleeve, realizing he’s sweating. His heart is hammering in his chest, so forceful that it hurts. Panic starts to win terrain, but he pushes it down and nods rigidly, acknowledging Benny’s words.

“Okay,” he returns after a few long seconds. “Thanks for telling me.” “If there’s anythin’--” Benny offers, but is interrupted by the man in front of him, who shoves his left foot into the stirrup and swiftly gets on his horse. “I’m good,” he assures, doing his best to come across as calm and collected.

Benny dips his chin, half accepting Dean’s choice to put this on hold for now. The rider has one last horse to compete, so the Southerner understands why he’s trying to keep his head in the game. He wishes he didn’t have to drop this bomb now, but there’s a chance his friend might run into John on these showgrounds. Benny might not know the entire story of what happened all those years ago, but he knows enough to recognize the impact the presence of Dean’s biological father will have. He watches quietly how the horseman pushes his legs into Aerosmith’s flanks and steers the horse towards the warmup arena without another word.

Suddenly nervous, Dean is highly aware of all the people who cross his path. He briefly studies them, even though recognizing the man who has been absent for over half of his life scares the hell out of him. Why the fuck is he here?

Dean isn’t just afraid of running into his old man; he’s angry. Angry about all the wrong choices that were made, angry about those memories rushing back to him. He stored them in a box and nailed the latch shut. He buried them, dug a hole deep enough to fit all those dark thoughts. He covered the surface with a thick layer of concrete, convinced that all those measures would be enough to lock away what he hoped to never feel again. Hopelessness, frustration, torment, aggression, guilt. But those emotions are now working their way through the cracks, like a weed that just won’t die, working up to the surface and showing its ugly head again.

But what has him exasperated the most, is the timing. Why now? His father hasn’t given a damn for fifteen years, fifteen fucking years, and now that Dean is finally getting to the point of allowing himself to be happy, he decides to show up? His fist clenches on the horn of the saddle, his nails digging into his palm. This isn’t fair!

His insides churn and twist even more when his mind snaps to Y/N. A sudden and heavy uneasiness settles in his chest, almost suffocating him. Shit, what if she runs into him? What if she learns the truth? Dean breathes out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a second while tipping his hat down. The panic that has his fingers shaky while he guides his horse into the warmup ring only grows with that thought. No no no, he thinks to himself. He can’t have his father ruin what is supposed to be his love story. He can’t lose this, he can’t lose her.

Preparing for his final ride goes anything but smoothly. The rider is so lost in thought that he accidentally cuts off another competitor and has to hit the brakes, apologizing to the cowgirl for the misstep. It’s a wake-up call, though; he really needs to focus and get his head straight. Aerosmith is one of the horses he and Bobby decided to hold on to a little longer, hoping the economy will be on its way to recovery somewhere next year so that they can make a better profit. Dean brought the younger stallion along to gain experience in the ring, yet he wants this ride to be solid, knowing a potential buyer could be watching.

But when he enters the arena, he can’t help but scan the crowd, suddenly aware that one of those pair of eyes is his father. He thinks of Y/N and how nervous she was last night, and suddenly it makes so much more sense what experiencing that kind of anxiety is like. The rider doesn’t even hear the announcement of his name over the amplifiers, he doesn’t hear Jo and Bobby shouting words of encouragement at him from the sideline. What he does hear is his rapidly beating heart, like a thundering echo of an oncoming storm.

He glances over his horse’s ears at the cattle in front of them. C’mon, Dean, this isn’t difficult. Separate a cow and let Aero do the work. Two and a half minutes and he will be out of the limelight. Who knows, maybe if they pack fast after Y/N’s ride, he won’t even run into his father.

The two herdholders that are in the ring to assist all contestants keep the group of young steers together. Unsettled, Dean swallows thickly and licks his dry lips, his eyes on the clock. When it starts ticking, he moves his hands forward and pushes Aerosmith towards the herd. The game is simple. In two and a half minutes, he has to separate two different heifers from the group and keep the selected cow in the middle of the arena, he and his Quarter the only boundary between the animal and his flock. He and Aero will be judged on degree of difficulty, confidence, and agility, but right now, all Dean is thinking about is surviving.

Deciding to not make it too complicated for his horse and himself, the horseman doesn’t pick a heifer too far into the herd on the first cut. Without disrupting the gathered bunch, the chestnut calmly makes his way through until Dean has decided on a cow, which he then carefully begins to push to the edge. When he has driven the brindle heifer out, Dean drops the reins and allows his Quarter to take the lead. Aerosmith locks on the lonely animal and crouches, skillfully keeping it in the center of the arena.

The crowd cheers, because the talented Quarter shows to be quick on his feet, darting from left and right and accelerating fast when his target tries to get around him. The cowboy keeps his balance, allowing his horse to move under him freely. After a few attempts to get past them, the cow yields and the rider signals Aero to back down. He blows out a breath. One down, one more to go.

The second cut goes according to plan as well. This time he does pick a heifer in the middle of the herd. The Quarterhorse tries not to disturb the rest of the cattle as he separates the one, but splitting the animals is not as clean as the first time. Once the cow is driven to the middle of the ring again, Aerosmith is back in his element and shows off his moves. Dean only has to sit back and let his partner under the saddle do the work, which he’s grateful for, because he feels like he wouldn’t be able to guide his horse in a simple circle if he had to.

The buzzer sounds; his two and a half minutes are up. Relieved, Dean exhales; at least he didn’t completely screw up their run. The young gelding really pulled through despite a nervous wreck of a rider on top of him, which just shows what a fantastic horse he is. “Thanks, bud,” Dean says softly, petting the chestnut on the shoulder.

The applause barely registers and it’s only when his eyes roam over the audience, that he notices the numbers on the board. 72.5 points; not bad. Normally, he would have been elated with a score like that, but now he just wants to get out of the ring as fast as possible, away from possible prying eyes. He feels like he’s being watched, well aware that his father is quite possibly amongst the people in the crowd. Call him a coward, but he needs to get out of here.

“Solid ride, Dean,” Bobby compliments when the rider comes through the gate, walking with him. When his nephew fails to respond, he looks up, narrowing eyes taking him in from under his baseball cap. “You okay, son?”

The troubled rider snaps his head at his uncle. Son. Bobby calls him that all the time and has done so ever since he took the lost boy under his wing all those years ago. Dean has grown accustomed to the title, even found comfort in it, glad to hear that word coming from his surrogate dad. But now the term confuses him. Suddenly, the man who has failed to step up to take care of his children and yet is his only living parent is here, and it is messing with his head in more ways than one. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, quickly averting his gaze and walking on.

Bobby lets him go, but Dean can sense the ranch owner watching him carefully. Unable to stop himself from scanning the people around the warm-up area, he briefly acknowledges the congratulations wishes from a few of his opponents with a nod and a ‘thanks’. Normally he’s up for a chat after a good run, but not now. He feels like he’s about to lose his mind, and he wants to be alone when it happens. He needs space, he needs air.

After a few minutes of hacking, Dean reaches the stables, grateful to find them mostly empty. With the last competition currently taking place in the arena, a lot of competitors already packed their trucks and trailers and left throughout the morning and afternoon. At the other end of the tent two people are tacking up, but they are far out of earshot.

In front of Aerosmith’s stable, the rider dismounts and leads the Quarter into his box, making quick work of removing the tack and rinsing the chestnut down. With the saddle on his hip and the bridle in hand, he steps into the storage room. “How did it go?”

Dean startles and almost drops the heavy load he was carrying, spinning around to find Y/N in the doorway. Somehow, it completely slipped his mind that she would still be here. The cowgirl is wearing her show outfit again, but traded her black blouse for a denim one this time. Long chaps hang down from her waist, strapped around her legs, her brass spurs barely showing. Her boots are shining and her hair is braided, her lucky hat only just allowing him to behold the playfulness in her eyes. She looks absolutely perfect.

Clueless and carefree, she waits for an answer, but her happy expression falls slightly when she notices his reaction. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, somewhat self-conscious. “What has you on your toes?” The cowboy blinks at her a few times before he kicks into gear again, storing away the saddle in one of the tack boxes. “Nothin’. Yeah, it uh - it went alright. 72.5 points,” he says, smiling at her faintly, quick to dodge her unraveling gaze.

Silence follows and he knows that she’s studying him, but Dean can’t even look at her, not sure how to deal with the worry that he knows is evident on her beautiful face. The second he gets lost in the vision of his girl, he will fall apart, and that’s something the unsettled wrangler can’t allow to happen. He can’t let her see it, she can’t know. So instead, he moves past her through the doorway to fill a feeding net with hay, desperately searching for a way to keep himself busy as he tries to get a hold of himself.

“Dean? Hey…” Her voice sounds so warm and kind, that he can’t ignore her any longer. When he has strung up the net, he turns to his girlfriend, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. Concerned eyes take him in when he looks up. “You’re shaking,” she notices, gently wrapping her delicate fingers around his forearms. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Before she finishes her sentence completely, he’s already shaking his head. It’s more denial than an actual answer, refusing to give in to all the contradicting feelings that are pulling the rug from under his boots. She knows him well enough to see that he’s a total mess right now. His mask is faltering and he’s breaking character, unable to deliver the standard ‘I’m fine’. Can he tell her about the disturbing message Benny delivered earlier? She will have more questions, questions he is nowhere near ready to answer. But then again, he can’t lie to her either, not anymore.

Dean takes a deep breath in order to collect himself and looks at her as heavy footfalls draw his attention. Expecting Benny, he glances over his shoulder, ready to request if his friend can grant them some privacy, when he catches a glimpse of the person standing in the alley between the stables. Every muscle in his body tenses, an invisible fist squeezing his throat shut. His heart - which has been beating unhealthily fast since the alarming news was delivered to him about an hour ago - now seems to come to a full stop for a few solid seconds.

They might be in Arizona, but Dean just froze to the ground, unable to move or speak. All he can do is stare at the man that is his own spitting image, only three decades older. The familiar stranger is wearing a smile on his lips, emotion swimming in weary eyes. After fifteen years of silence, John Winchester stands before his oldest child, a broken voice delivering the words Dean never wished to hear again, and yet missed so dearly.

“Hello, son.”

Well, shit... Enough with the fluff. Angst is here!

Also, did you spot my little Stan Lee moment? Does a certain red-haired photographer seem familiar? Yep, that’s me!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-four here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Dean x Y/N #Cowboy!Dean #Dean AU #Cowboy!Dean AU #cowboy!dean x reader #cowboy dean #cowboy dean au #Supernatural AU #Dean Winchester AU #Dean Winchester #Supernatural #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #SPN fanfiction #Kate Huntington

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handsupinthebalorclub · 6 years ago

Text

Anagapesis (Chapter 6)

pairing: the shield x reader

word count: 7, 534 (it’s a long one, sorry)

summary: Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for something or someone you once loved. After three years, you’re officially the manager of the Shield once again. But, things aren’t quite the same as they used to be.

warnings: cursing, mentions of betrayal, trust issues

playlist: spotify

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven

You pulled up to the diner and put the car into park. A purple luminescence shined off of the neon sign that hung above the front door and filtered into the car via the windshield, creating a soft violet glow. When you took the key out of the engine, the car slowly hummed to a stop.

You sat like this for a minute or two, taking in the aesthetic atmosphere of the place before you opened the car door and got out. The brisk January air hit you quickly and sent a chill down your spine. You wrapped your arms around your body for warmth and crossed the parking lot.

When you entered the diner, the familiar feeling of comfort built up in your chest. You tried to compress your smile, but flashed it anyway when you had reached the podium where the hostess stood.

“Hi, I have a reservation under the name Angle?”

The lady’s eyes flickered down to the paper in front of her, then back at you.

“Oh, yes. Follow me.”

You nodded and followed her as she ventured further into the diner. She brought you over to the back right corner of the diner where another man sat, presumingly Jason. He looked pretty generic and what you expected him to be, the muscles of his arms clearly visible through his brown colored suit. You opened your mouth to greet him, when something dawned on you. He was the guy that was fighting with Dean earlier this morning.

The hostess noticed your hesitation and gave you a concerned look.

“Is everything okay, miss?”

You quickly snapped yourself out of it and painted a reassuring smile onto your face.

“Uh, y-yes. Sorry.” You quickly sat down in the empty seat across from Jason.

“Your waitress should be with you shortly,” The hostess then began heading back to her podium, leaving you sitting there with a rather perturbed facial expression. Jason, on the other hand, looked amused with the whole situation.

“Well...can’t say I expected this,” You finally sighed. “But I’m willing to let the comments from earlier on go and pretend like this is the first time I’m meeting you.” You extended your hand towards him. “Y/n L/n.”

Jason gave your hand a firm shake before letting it go.

“Jason Jordan. Don’t take anything I said to heart, really. Just a way to get Ambrose to remember the new guy.”

“You’ve certainly made a strong impression, but the damage is kind of already done.”

Jason’s brow furrowed, but he flashed a pearly smile.

“What do you mean?” You debated on not telling him, but he would probably figure out Monday once Seth had a separate match from Dean and Roman.

“The Shield is going to have a different dynamic from now on. Same group, they’re just going to be going after different titles. Speaking of titles, which one are you after? Universal? Do you have a tag-team partner? Do you need a tag-team partner?”

“I appreciate that you’re so eager to start the business talk,” Jordan shook his head. “But let’s get to know each other a little bit, yeah?”

You nodded, there wasn’t really any reason you could go against the idea. Plus, you were a manager that focuses on the personal life of someone, not just the professional. Who knows, maybe you would actually find the time you spent with Jason enjoyable.

“Alright, first off: how old are you, anyway?” He looked at you with an odd expression as you said this. “Don’t look at me like that. I swear, one wrestler found the Fountain of Youth a long time ago and just passed the secret down to all of you.”

“How old do you think I am?” He was way too amused with this conversation.

“Twenty-five?” You guessed after observing his face.

“Thirty.”

“See? At least I was right about you being younger than me.”

“You must have learned the secret too,” He remarked. “How old are you?”

“I’m a year younger than Rollins.”

“How the Hell am I supposed to know Seth’s age?”

“Exactly the point.” You smirked, which caused Jason to chuckle.

“I’ll find it out one way or another.”

“Alright. Have fun doing that.”

* * *

The next morning, you sat on the edge of the ring provided at the practice center. You had managed to convince Jason to show up earlier than your appointment with Seth, with a big enough gap that Seth wouldn’t see Jason and get suspicious. This way, you could get both analyses out of the way. You even tried to get Roman and Dean to come after Seth’s appointment, but Dean shut down the idea straight away.

You had already been there for roughly twenty minutes with Jason walked into the building. He sat his backpack down onto the wooden bench pushed up against the wall. He pulled off his shirt and looked at you with raised brows.

“So, how’s this going to go?”

“I called in a friend for you to have a surveillance match with.”

“I can take on your Shield boys any day.”

You scoffed as his comment but decided to refute it.

“It’s not any of the Shield.” You looked to your left, where a hallway was located, and saw the person you had recruited approaching the area.

“Who is it then?”

“See for yourself.” You shrugged as Finn entered the room, already prepared for the training. You looked over at Jason to see if there was a flash of recognition on his face, but you saw none.

“So, you’re Angle’s son?” Finn asked while sizing up Jason.

“Yup. Jason Jordan.” Jason took a step forwards and held out a hand for Finn to shake. Finn nodded and introduced himself while shaking Jason’s hand.

“Finn Balor.”

“Balor..where have I heard that name before?” Jason rubbed his chin when the two stepped back once again. “Wait, aren’t you the guy who was the first to win the Universal title?” A smile came onto Finn’s face, but it immediately dropped once Jason spoke again. “And then proceeded to lose it twenty-two hours later?”

You stifled a laugh at the sudden remark. There was a large part of you that knew condoning Jason picking a fight with your best friend was wrong, but the look of utter shock on Finn’s face was priceless. When you saw Finn open his mouth to retaliate, you quickly clapped your hands together to gain their attention.

“Alright, moving on! Only way to win is by pinfall. I’ll be doing the three count from out here, so try to pay attention. Any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Got it.”

The two men went to separate sides of the ring and climbed in. You made sure you were far enough from the ring to the point where you could still see what was going on, but not in the way if they wanted to take the fight outside of it. You picked up the clipboard that you had put on the apron earlier and prepared a pen, ready to take notes.

“Alright, whenever you guys are ready.”

Finn and Jason started by circling the ring, their eyes locked into each other. You watched intently, waiting to see who made the first move. It turned out to be Jason. He leaned forward and thrusted himself towards Finn. Finn went to go counter him, but Jason managed to grip Finn’s waist before he could and swept him off of his feet and onto the canvas. Finn was quick to recover, though. He rolled backwards and pushed off of the canvas to propel himself off the floor, successfully kicking Jason in the face as he did so.

This sort of cycle happened for awhile, leading you to write down that Jason seemed to focus on doing moves such as bucklebombs and a large variety of suplexes. These moves were aimed to put more stress on the chest and back, which you found interesting since Finn had a somewhat a similar style with using moves like the shotgun dropkick.

Jason had managed to pin Finn against the canvas, but Finn kicked out by the time you had got to one. Finn got up and went to go perform a sling blade, but Jason caught him by the torso and did another German suplex when he put Finn into the correct position. Once he hit the ground, Finn grabbed his opponent's ankle and dragged him down onto the floor and put him into a roll up pin. However, Jason kicked out at two.

While Jason recovered, Finn pulled himself off of the floor and went to the corner. Using the turnbuckles, he climbed up to the top rope and jumped off it, hitting Jason’s midsection. You couldn’t help but cringe at the move. Whenever Finn did the Coup de Grace, you’ve always felt pity for the person on the receiving end, even if you weren’t particularly fond of them. Jason immedality rolled onto his side, clutching his stomach, but Finn placed him onto his back and went for the pin.

“One! Two!”

Jason didn’t move, he just laid there with a look of pain on his face.

“Three!”

Finn, obviously satisfied with his win based off of the giant smile, hopped onto his feet. He offered a hand out Jason, who accepted it, and helped him stand.

“Sorry about that, bud. Payback for your Universal title comment.”

Jason let out a small chuckle.

“You’re good. We even?”

“Yeah.”

As sweat dripped down their bodies, the two men exited the ring. You took a minute to let them catch their breaths. However, you couldn’t help but to notice Finn slowly inching his way towards you. You already know what he was about to do, so you quickly shot him a glare.

“Finn,” You warned. “Stop it, I know you’re trying to hug me and get me coated with your sweat but don’t even think about it. You’re gross.” Obviously this wasn’t the first time Finn had tried to do this.

“Now, y/n, why would I do that?” Finn looked at you with an innocent expression.

“I hate you. Anyway,” You turned to Jason. “Great job. I’ll go over the notes and talk to you about possible match ideas probably tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Nice meeting you, Balor.”

“You too.”

Once Jason collected his stuff and walked out of the building, you turned to Finn.

“What time is your press event?”

Finn looked at his phone.

“In about thirty minutes.” You looked at yours.

“Seth will be here in forty. Mind sticking around for a little?”

“I mean, you hate me…” Finn acted as if he was going to pack up his stuff and leave. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, fine. Love you. There.” You sighed and placed your clipboard down onto the apron. “Will you stay now?”

“For about ten minutes, then I should leave to get ready.”

“It’s better than nothing.” You and Finn headed over the bench and sat down together.

* * *

The sound of the door being pushed open caught your attention. Seth walked in, his equipment in hand.

“You’re here early,” he commented.

“Finn wanted to work out earlier, so he gave me a ride here and I gave him some company. He just left like twenty minutes ago to go to a radio interview.”

“I was wondering why you weren’t in bed this morning, but I just assumed you’d get here somehow.” He placed down his stuff and turned to you whilst stretching. “What’s the plan?”

“Good question.” Finding a practice partner for Jason was easy. Seth, not so much. Finn was your only RAW representative, since everyone else you weren’t exactly on friendly terms with. If you could, you would have called a member of the New Day or someone else from Smackdown, but they were currently four states away. And, to top everything else off, using Roman or Dean completely went against the whole point of this exercise. “Throw yourself around the ring and I guess we’ll go from there. I’ll shout out directions, you can act like Samoa Joe is there and try to dodge it.”

Seth blinked slowly at first, then rapidly as he tried to wrap his head around the concept.

“Or I could just practice with you?”

“What?” You laughed, before realizing he was serious. “Absolutely not! Practicing with me wouldn’t help you at all, anyway.”

“C’mon why not? You know the basics of wrestling and you’ve done it before. As for Joe, I’ve beat him once and I can do it again.” Your silence was enough of a hint for Seth. “Alright, fine. Let’s do your idea.”

Seth called into the ring looking annoyed, but followed along when you began to call out directions.

“He’s on your left and going in for a stiff kick.” This type of interaction happened for a few minutes. “Great, now he’s trying to pull you into a suplex on your right.” Yet, Seth didn’t mood. “Rollins, I said right.” He just stood there with his eyebrows creased. You sighed and went closer to the apron, your movement finally catching his attention. “Okay, first off, he would pummeling the shit out of you right now. Second, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t fucking do this, y/n. For starters, I can’t dodge something I can’t see. And, I probably look like a dumbass! This is a waste of time!” He was about to exit the ring before you stopped him.

“Alright, alright. I guess bad practice is better than no practice.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ll practice with you.” Seth nodded in satisfaction, a smile coming onto his face. “But, let me procrastinate a little bit first. Let’s sit in the middle of the ring and talk strategy for the real fight, just so we have a least something prepared.”

“Okay,” You and Seth sat down in the middle of the ring and begun to plan.

“We know Samoa Joe seems to favor doing power moves-”

“So, I have to focus more on agility to get him tired out.”

“Exactly. Same thing with Elias, too.”

“Trust me, I’ll be able to handle Joe.”

* * *

You stood in the center of the ring with Seth, him waiting on your cue to start. He was right, you had received basic wrestling training from each member of the Shield a few years ago, primarily for self defense, but it spiraled into you doing a few practice matches with them or Lana when there was downtime between shows. But, that didn’t exactly mean you were a hundred percent confident in your ability to wrestle and not break any body part in the process. The higher ups at WWE had a history of convincing managers to become Superstars, but you were perfectly fine with the idea of never stepping into the ring professionally.

“Alright, go.”

You and Seth circled around each other, each one trying to figure out who was going to strike first. It took awhile, but Seth finally realized that you weren’t going to attack and decided to rush you. You attempted to move out of the way, but he managed to grab onto your arm.

You automatically flinched, the same burning sensation like you had felt when he had hugged you after the first match took over your body like a spreading fire. It was a very harsh reminder that you had been forcing yourself to interact with Seth all this time. You didn’t a hundred percent trust him, but you still put yourself in situations like this where it was only him and you in an area.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and launched into your first instinct, which was to flip Seth over your shoulder and down onto his back. When Seth’s back made contact with the canvas, you heard a large breath escape his mouth.

“I was going to go easy on you, y/n.” Seth got onto his feet and rubbed his shoulder. “But after that, I’m not so sure.” You steadied yourself both physically and mentally.

“Good, you weren’t supposed to.”

The fight continued. You actually managed to get a few hits on Seth, and even pulled off a spear that you think Roman would be very proud of. Seth wasn’t lying when he said that he wasn’t going easy on you anymore, because by the four minute mark, your body was already aching in pain.

Some circling occurred again before a sudden smirk was on Seth’s lips and in the matter of seconds, he had you in an arm bar. You quickly took in a breath, the feeling of your arm being locked into a place where it naturally should not be growing more painful by the second. You tried to twist out of it a few times, but to not avail. Eventually, the pain grew to be too much and you rapidly hit the canvas below you. It took Seth a few seconds to realize what you had just done.

“Did you just tap out?”

“Yes, I just tapped out! Can you let go of me now?”

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry.” Seth quickly released you. You slowly stood up and rotate your shoulder

few times to make sure it still functioned correctly. Seth sat in a criss-crossed position on the canvas, his bare chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” The concern in his voice almost made you wince.

“Uh,” You tried to hide the awkwardness in your voice. You still weren’t used to Seth being nice to you after what happened. “No. I’m fine. Let’s call it a day, alright? I think you’re fine to go against Joe on Monday.”

* * *

You sat in a quiet corner of the hotel lobby, staring blankly at your laptop. Today was the last day to send in match requests and even though you had already put one in for Seth vs Samoa Joe, you still hadn’t set up anything for Roman and Dean or Jason. In the plan binder you had, Roman and Dean were set to fight Gallows and Anderson, but they had already set up a match against Heath Slater and Rhyno for Monday.

“I thought I saw you over here,” You looked up to see Finn approaching the red leather chairs where you sat.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to figure out match placements for everyone else but Seth since I already set his up.”

“Aren’t those due today?”

“Yes, which is exactly why I’m freaking the fuck ou-wait I just had an idea.”

“Oh no.”

You sent him a glare but replaced your annoyed expression with a sweet smile.

“Finn, do you happen to have a match set up for Monday?”

“No, I don’t but I know where this is going-”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“You’re going to ask me to have a match against Jason Jordan.” Finn plopped down in the chair across from you.

“Nope. You’re wrong, I’m going to ask you to fight with Jason and have a tag team match against Roman and Dean.”

“Huh, didn’t see that coming.”

“I think what you’re trying to say is ‘yes, y/n, I would love to be the greatest best friend in the world and be Jason Jordan’s tag team partner against Roman and Dean’.” You mimicked him, complete with a (very badly done) Irish accent.

“Really now?” Finn laughed at your poor impersonation with him. “Say if I do agree to this, which I’m not saying that I’m going to, what’s in it for me?”

“I don’t know. C’mon, Finn! Please? I’ll do anything at this point. I really don’t need any more stress in my life.” You imagined what people would think if they saw you right now, someone who built their whole career off of being diplomatic and was once called ‘one of the best managers Raw has had to date’ by Kurt Angle, begging for help.

“Anything?”

“Okay maybe not anything…”

“Too late, you already said it.”

“Okay, fine. Anything, like anything anything.” You sighed. Finn placed a hand on his chin and he thought the offer over.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

You quickly shot out of your seat and rested your laptop on the seat before throwing your arms around him.

“Thank you so much! I promise you won’t regret it. I love you.”

Finn laughed and returned the hug but held up a finger once you pulled away.

“But, this is only a one-time thing. Okay? I need to work on my own title shot.”

You sat back down into your seat and quickly began typing up the match request email as you continued the conversation.

“Oooh, what are you going after? IC or Universal?”

“Not exactly sure yet. Can your manager brain whip up any recommendations?”

“As Seth’s manager and all, I should convince you not to go after the Universal title….but as your best friend, I’m not going to do that.” You finished the sentence you were typing before giving Finn advice. “Okay, so with the Universal title, you’d have to fight Brock. No offense, but I really don’t see that going well. I know the Universal title means a lot to you, but I think it might be worth it to wait that one out and go after it when a more suitable person wins it. Someone you’ve fought before and know you can win against.”

“So, wait until Seth gets it.”

“That’s not really want I meant but technically, yes. Kevin Owens has the IC title right now and there’s no doubt in my mind that you can take him, so I think that might be the safer bet.” You went back to typing after saying this.

“Plus, that gives me the opportunity to beat the shit out of Miz.” Finn chimed.

“Miz is going after the IC title again? How many times has he had it so far?”

“Seven.” Finn quickly explained why he knew that information once you casted him a weird look. “Miz sat behind me on the plane ride over here and would not stop talkin’ to Bo Dallas. By the way, did you know Maryse was pregnant? I know the two of you don’t really get along, but she was with you on New Years, yeah?”

You looked at him in shock for a few seconds before the pieces started to click together in your brain.

“Wow that...that makes a lot of sense, actually. It explains why she wasn’t drinking at the club and her absences from Raw.”

“Can you imagine Miz as a dad?”

“Oh God, please don’t put that image in my head. That man is a baby himself most of the time.” Meanwhile, you had just finished typing up the email. After quickly reading over it, you pressed send. “Annnd done. Match request is in.”

* * *

A few days later, you stood in the gorilla with Dean and Roman, moments away from their match against Jason and Finn. Seth was also there, stating that he was going to be watching the monitors closely in case he had to intervene.

“We’ll be fine, bro. Focus on pumping yourself up for your match, alright?” Roman clapped his hand onto Seth’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright, alright. It’s just weird seeing you guys about to go out there without me.”

You had to admit, it did feel very strange that the boys had two separate matches tonight, meaning you had to avoid being hit in the crossfire twice as much than usual. It felt even weirder seeing them in their own custom merch and not the tactical army vests you had come re-accustomed to over the last few weeks.

“Ew. Okay, no.” Dean grunted. “We’re not doing this sappy shit. We’re going to go out there and kick some ass. So are you. Stop acting like we’re breaking up or something. We’re still the Shield.”

Seth opened up his mouth to retaliate, but Dean’s music erupting from the speakers stopped him. Dean gave a three finger salute before rushing out onto the stage. After a few seconds of Dean’s music, it cut over to Roman’s.

You and Roman shared a look, him flashing a smile in your direction before the two of you pushed past the curtains and walked to the ramp. Your eyes scanned the crowd, confusion evident on some of their faces. Roman made his descent down the ring, you following not too long behind. The two of you joined Dean, who had already made it to the outskirts of the ring by this point. Roman held open the top and middle rope for you. You mumbled a quick thank you as you stepped into the ring. As Dean and Roman got into the ring, the arena was overtaken by darkness and Finn’s theme song begun to play.

When the lights came back on, it was occupied by a considerable amount of fog. Finn was now stood on top of the ramp, a giant smile on his face as he grabbed the sides of his jacket. He walked around, giving high-fives to fans before a familiar sound played on the speakers. You followed along with the motions in your mind as Finn threw up his arms, corresponding with his song. After that movement, he looked towards the entrance of the gorilla, indicating that it was time for Jason to make his debut. In all honesty, you had to admit that you were kind of intrigued about what his music was going to sound like.

I’m the next generation of great, the next generation of great…

You tried not to scoff at the lyrics as Jason walked out. You heard Roman make a confused noise next to you.

“What’s up, Ro?” You turned to him, ignoring Finn and Jason making their way down the ramp.

“Who’s that? I’ve never seen him before.”

“Dunno-” Dean shrugged in response before quickly doing a double take. “Wait, it’s that punk! The one that was shit talking us earlier!”

You squinted, pretending as if you had not been in contact with Jason since then.

“Huh. Yeah, it is.”

Dean was already starting to pace around the ring by the time the two other men entered. Dean was ready to get up in Jason’s face then and there, but Roman’s hand clasping down onto his shoulder stopped him.

“How about I go first?” Roman offered, knowing fully well that releasing Dean into the match was going to start chaos too early. However, Dean had another idea as he shook off Roman’s hand and stepped forward.

“Or I could go first and shove a kendo stick up this dude’s ass-”

“Dean!” You quickly snapped as you stepped in front of him, blocking his path to Jason, who decided to rile Dean up more by making dog noises, an obvious nod towards the first conversation you two had with him. You deeply sighed and rolled your eyes. Not helping, Jason.

“Ready to start the match?” You heard the referee ask from outside of the ring.

“Please.” You answered. You sent Dean a warning glare. “Apron. Now.”

“Fine, fine.” Dean huffed before following you over to the side of the ring. When the ref climbed

into the ring, Finn and Jason began to discuss who should go first and ended up deciding on Finn.

When the bell rang, Roman was the first to move. He landed a few hits onto Finn’s side, but Finn was quick to retaliate. You stood there in awe, not even paying attention to Dean’s comments, and watched the match. In the ring were two people who you considered to be great friends to you and were also considered to be greatly talented at what they did. It was a honor to see them fighting, honestly. Every move was fluid, even the way Finn propelled himself over Roman’s towering body looked magnificent. You admired the both of them endlessly.

Finn went into for the pin, but Roman kicked him off effortlessly. You really wanted to cheer for Finn at a few points, but knew it would set a bad image. So, you just cheered loudly in your head every time Finn made a move. The two grappled for a little bit more until Finn jetted over to where Jason Jordan stood and tagged him in. A smile blossomed on Jason’s face as he got into the ring and grabbed a hold of Roman. Roman quickly reversed the hold and launched Jason over his shoulder.

This was intriguing to you in a totally different way. Roman had been in this industry for years and this was Jason’s debut match. They were opposites, and you tell just by the way their moves were calculated. Roman’s a powerhouse, and he knows it, so his moves revolve around the concept of forcing his opponent onto the ground as quickly as possible. The person can’t react because they have no time to. Meanwhile, Jason’s moves are more position based and can easily be broken out of, which Roman did plenty of times by this point. Jason would have to take a few seconds to adjust every time he picked up Roman to perform a suplex, giving Roman just enough of a time frame to interfere. Plus, Jason’s moves were also time consuming in another way, since they were designed to gradually weigh down his opponent by conflicting pain onto certain areas. You did have to applaud Jason for his ability to quickly recover, though. Every time Roman would throw him down onto the ground, he was quick to jump back onto his feet. Eventually, Roman tagged in Dean.

“Took you long enough.” Dean commented as he slinked into the ring. In normal Dean fashion, the first thing he did once he got a hold of Jason was Dirty Deeds.

“He’s going to tear that poor kid apart.” Roman chuckled as he watched the fight progress. “By the way, do you know why Finn would have partnered up with him? I mean, you guys are pretty close, right? I doubt he’d want to go against you willingly.”

You licked your lips and made an inward note of this conversation. You didn’t really think Roman, or anyone for that matter, would have picked up on that.

“Don’t worry, there’s no bad blood between him and me all of the sudden. He came to me earlier this week and said that Stephanie asked him to do a tag team match with a newbie in order to get the new guy to look good. Apparently he has some connections or something. Anyway, I woke up with this match just in my inbox. Stephanie probably set it up against us because she’s not exactly our biggest fan.”

“Makes sense.”

With that, the two of you put your focuses back onto the match. Jason had climbed out of the ring to regain his breath, but Dean immediately flung himself between the ropes and took down Jason. Dean picked Jason’s body off of the floor and slid him into the ring before putting himself back in. Dean went to go cover Jason go for the pin, but Jason quickly pulled him into a roll up.

One! Two! Three!

Neither you, Finn, or Roman moved out of shock.

“Did-did they just win?” You asked, not believing what had just happened.

“Uh, yeah.” Roman shook off his shock and went to go retrieve the broken Dean, who was sitting on the canvas with his mouth hung open. Finn also recovered from his shock and went to go celebrate with Jason. You too went into the ring, foreseeing the shitstorm that was about to happen when Jason was handed a microphone.

“Did you decide to take my advice, Ambrose? Did the Shield finally split?”

Murmurs erupted from the crowd.

“Can I get a microphone?” You asked a stagehand outside of the ring. They quickly turned on a mic and gave it to you.

“Here comes to the dog trainer.” Jason snarkily said.

“The Shield didn’t break up and isn’t going to any time soon.”

“Huh, really? Where’s Seth, then? Plus, I don’t see you guys all dressed up in that swat get up anymore. Jeans and a tank top,” He referenced to Dean’s outfit. “Doesn’t really represent all that justice mumbo jumbo that the Shield stands for to me. Finn, what do you think?”

Finn quickly shook his head.

“I’m staying out of this.”

Jason didn’t look fazed by Finn’s answer. Instead, he turned to the crowd.

“How about you, WWE Universe? Do you think these guys are representing justice right now?” Jason was met with a few yells from the crowd, supposedly agreeing with him.

“It doesn’t matter what we’re wearing. Hell, we could be out here in damn bunny suits. The Shield is still the Shield, end of story.” Now Dean had a microphone. Great.

“Now that I’d pay to see.” Finn lightheartedly commented.

“I thought you were staying out of this, Balor.” Dean stated. Finn smiled, but took a step back so he could rest on the ropes. Roman took the microphone away from Dean and looked at Jason.

“Who are you anyway, man? You’ve got a lot of balls to just pop out of nowhere and start attacking us.”

“The name’s Jason Jordan. Remember it.” Jason smiled and dropped the microphone. His music hit the speaker, signifying that you all were officially done there.

* * *

You wanted to confront Jason for starting more drama the moment you stepped into the gorilla, but you were informed that Seth’s match versus Samoa Joe had been moved up a time slot by production. This meant that Seth’s match was next.

You tilted your head back and let out a sigh, but quickly put on your game face. As Joe walked out onto the ramp in tune with his music, you went over to where Seth stood near the curtains.

“Rollins can you do me a favor and make this quick?”

“Managing us is a whole lot easier when we’re together, huh?”

“I never thought I’d miss a hotel bed this much.”

Seth let out a chuckle. His music begun to play.

“After you,” Seth smiled as he held open the curtain. You nodded in acknowledgement and walked out onto the ramp with Seth in tow. Joe watched intently as the two of you came down the ramp. You slowed down your walking and allowed Seth to go in front of you. “Scared of Joe, are we?” Seth teased as he entered the ring. You stood on the apron, and leaned onto the ropes.

“Nope, it’s you he wants. Not me. I don’t want to get stuck in the crossfire.”

Seth ignored your comment and rolled his shoulders. The two men stared at each other until the bell rang, then launched into fighting. You recoiled when Joe’s arm connected to Seth’s bare chest multiple times, leaving his skin temporarily pink.

At one point Joe had been on his hands and knees, recovering from a suplex Seth had delivered, when you noticed Seth run to the other side of the ring. Your face drained it’s color as you watched Seth run towards Joe, your brain connecting the dots on what was about to happen.

Seth jumped into the air and brought one foot down on Joe’s head, sending him into the canvas. Whilst Joe laid flat on the ground, Seth quickly pinned him and won the match. Seth looked towards you with a giant smile when his music hit, expecting a different reaction than the one you gave. You rolled your eyes, hopped down from your position on the apron, and begun walking back up the ramp. Seth’s brows furrowed as he quickly followed you.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? What did I do?” When you turned around to face Seth back at the gorilla, you expected to see a posse of cameras following him, but there surprisingly were none. This was probably due to the temper tantrum Joe was having back in the ring. However, there were some people giving you confused looks as they continued their jobs around you.

“What’s wrong? What do you mean what’s wrong? I don’t know about you, Rollins, but the last time I checked, the Curb Stomp was banned from WWE!”

Even a company such as WWE, where the main focus was people beating the shit out each other, had rules. One of the those rules are wrestlers are not allowed to perform any moves that are on the “banned” list for their own safety and the safety of others. Moves like Seth’s Curb Stomp, something that can permanently damage the neck and result in paralysis or death, were on that “banned” list.

“No one stopped me, though! I even got the win! Maybe Hunter and Steph just had a change of heart and saw how awesome the Curb Stop really is?”

“Or they decided to let you get away with it and then just hit both of us with thousands of dollars in fines! I’m supposed to be the one who advises you not to do crazy shit like that!” You we’re ready to go off on Seth some more, but once you saw Jason walk by and turn the corner into another hallway, your anger switched targets. You took a deep breath and looked at Seth, devising a plan. “Ugh. I just-I just need to calm down. We can deal with it later. I’m going to take a walk.”

With that, you walked past him and went in the same direction Jason had went. You found him about to turn into the males’ locker room. You quickly caught his attention.

“Oh hey, y/n.” Jason was all smiles when you approached. You looked around the hall, not wanting to get caught being on friendly terms with him. You spotted a meeting room down the hall and gestured Jason to follow you. You knocked to make sure no one else was in there. After a minute of silence, you opened the door and brought Jason into the room. The moment Jason shut the door you looked at him with a bewildered expression and threw your hands up for emphasis.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know! I just saw an opportunity and pinned him! Crazy, right?”

“No, not the win!” You sighed before backtracking. “Even though I’m super impressed and kind of confused on how that exactly happened, no offense. I was talking about the whole ‘Shield Split’ thing. I thought we were over this!”

“Y/n, it’s just a-”

“Just a way to get them to remember the new guy. Yeah, I get it.” You seethed.

“Wow. You’re all sunshine and rainbows right now, aren’t ya?”

You shot Jason a glare and settled down into one of the chairs around the meeting table. You took a second to run your hands through your hair before slumping your shoulders.

“Okay look, I’m sorry for snapping but I’m just under a lot of pressure right now. Managing you and The Shield are hard enough but pulling Finn into all of this? You starting shit that is ultimately going to set Dean off? All the way back to the gorilla he was telling me to schedule a rematch for next week. And then Seth had to go and perform an illegal move-”

“What?” Jason interrupted with a shocked look on his face. “An illegal move? Really? What was it?”

“His stupid Curb Stomp. So now I just have three giant monkey wrenches in my plan.”

“Y’know, you always don’t need a plan, right? Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.”

“Y’know, you always don’t need a plan, right?” Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.” Seth popped his head over the top of your couch, completely ignoring the Transformers movie he begged you to buy playing on the television.

“Have you ever met me, Seth?” You responded with a cocked eyebrow.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Reminder that this is my house and I can kick you out at any minute if I want to.” You chuckled before looking back at your laptop screen.

You two had finally received a few days off, which was enough time for you to finally fly home and sleep in your own bed for once. Seth decided to join, which wasn’t really uncommon between the two of you. Every now and then, you would take turns going to each other’s house to continue the ritual of ‘Shield Sleepovers’. Granted it was more like ‘Seth and Y/n Sleepovers with sometimes a guest appearance of Dean or Roman via phone call’ but ‘Shield Sleepovers’ had a better ring to it.

You and Seth were actually supposed to play video games that night and you were actually thinking that tonight may be the night that you would beat Seth in a Madden game, but your activities were put on hold when you got a email stating that the individual flights to London, the next place for the RAW tour, you had booked for you and Seth, along with Dean’s, had been canceled. You managed to find another flight for you and Seth that was pretty much a red-eye flight, but at least it was something. You two would be able to still get to the hotel at a reasonable time. However, you were struggling to find Dean a flight from his town to London that would be within a decent time frame. You went to go click on a connecting flight that would require Dean to switch airports at Dublin, but your laptop suddenly closed in front of you and was taken away. You made a noise of confusion and looked up to see Seth with your laptop tucked under his arm.

“Okay, this needs to stop. You’ve been at this for two hours now and I can tell you’re starting to get beyond stressed.”

“What? No I’m not.” You tried to cover up the strain in your voice with a chuckle, but Seth didn’t buy it.

“I’ll text Dean and tell him that he can book his own flight. This is supposed to be your night off.” Seth’s voice got quieter and he exited the kitchen and ventured down the hallway.

“It’s Dean’s night off too!” You called out to him, wherever he may be.

“Yeah but Dean’s job doesn’t really require him to book flights, meaning he can do it on a day off. That’s basically in your job description, so you can’t.” When he returned, the laptop wasn’t in sight.

“Did-did you just hide my laptop from me? In my own house?” You sputtered.

“Yes, yes I did.” Seth came behind you and put his hands onto your shoulders. He lightly guided you onto the couch and sat you down. “Now, let’s just relax so I can beat your ass in Madden.”

Seth started up the game and you two begun to play, but after a few minutes, Seth realized you were barely touching the controller.

“You’re still stressed aren’t you?” He paused the game and turned to you.

“Knowing Dean he’s going to forget or-”

“Y/n. Stop.” The serious tone in Seth’s voice caught you off guard and forced you to listen. “Dean’s perfectly capable. Lately you’ve been stressing yourself out so much that I’m starting to worry about your health. You’re always working and you pull all-nighters more than anyone I know. I know you think you can do everything yourself but you need to let Dean, Roman, and I give you a hand sometimes, okay? We’re not going anywhere, I promise.”

You opened your mouth to refute him, but realized he was right. The dark circles under your eyes proved that.

“Alright, alright. I’ll lay off the work for a little bit and try to relax.”

“Good!” Seth beamed. “By the way, I’m always here if you need to talk about anything. And don’t give me that ‘you can’t promise always because scientifically there’s going to be a time when-” shit. I mean it when I say always.”

“Y/n!”

The sound of Jason’s panicked voice brought you back to reality. When he saw you come to, Jason let out a relieved sigh.

“You were turning really pale. I thought you were going to pass out on me.”

You casted him a smile and tried to hide your shaking form from the memory you just had.

“I’m fine. By the way, I’m sorry that I yelled at you.”

Jason looked at you with a confused expression.

“You’re good.” He looked down and noticed the way your leg was bouncing rapidly. “Y/n, are you sure you’re fine? Did your blood sugar drop or something? Do you want me to go get the medics?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Just remembered something that’s all.” You pushed yourself out of your seat and did your best to smile. “But I am going to go walk around for a little bit to get my head on straight. De-stress, y’know?”

“Yeah...I guess....I'll see you later?”

You quickly nodded and slipped out of the room to go find either Finn or Roman to help calm your nerves.

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