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usomads · 2 months ago

Note

Can you do a Valentine’s Day story with Kenny Omega x Fem Reader ?

Kenny and the reader are married and have a romantic night together consisting of dinner , and a romantic bath leading into love making. Thanks in advance!

You Taste Better // Kenny Omega x Reader

Author’s Note -> Happy Valentine’s Day! I’ve been so busy recently between moving, visiting family, and then some things that have come up but I’m hoping I get a little more consistent with writing pretty soon. I’m not usually one to write about fluffy stuff like this, but since the day calls for it I guess I’ll do it.. just this once 😉 as always, happy reading!

Pairings -> Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Fluff galore, Cursing, Hickies, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected P in V, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.3k

Valentine’s Day: a day for extravagant gestures, lavish gifts, and world-class dinners. But this year, your first Valentine’s Day married to Kenny, things would look differently. He insisted– begged even, that the two of you stay home and he’d handle everything.

“I got this,” he’d said confidently this morning, kissing your forehead and disappearing into the kitchen.

But now, as you stood in the doorway, arms crossed in amusement, you watched your husband fumble his way through cooking dinner for the two of you. Adorned in a simple black tee and sweatpants, Kenny was the epitome of domestic charm– if not a little bit chaotic. Steak sizzles in a pan while a pot of mashed potatoes sits abandoned on the counter, a wooden spoon resting near the edge of the countertop.

“You’re supposed to stir those, babe,” you pointed out, holding back laughter.

Kenny turned, a sheepish grin on his face. “I was… getting to it.”

You shake your head, walking over to him and taking the utensil from him, giving the potatoes a much needed stir. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, planting a soft kiss to your hair and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re interfering with my master plan,” he murmurs, lips brushing the skin under your ear.

“You looked like you needed some help, babe.”

“I’ll admit to needing you, but that’s nothing new.” His hands slide down your waist, pulling you closer to him. You breathe out a sigh, now having your own troubles focusing on the potatoes. He chuckles at you, kissing your temple before pulling away to finish with the steaks.

Dinner eventually made its way to the table– not perfect by any means but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You and Kenny sit across from each other, candlelight flickering between you, casting a warm glow on his face. He pours you a glass of wine, making a toast to another year together.

“To my beautiful wife,” he says, his voice soft now. “The one person makes every win, every loss, and everything in between worth it.”

Your heart melts at his words and you know for a fact that right now, there is no place you’d rather be than here. No five-star restaurant, no elaborate trip, nothing could compare to the serenity of this moment. As chaotic as it was trying to get dinner together, you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

You continue with dinner, making conversation and occasionally flirting and cracking jokes back and forth as you finish your meal. The two of you finish eating and Kenny stands first, gathering your plates and placing them in the kitchen before coming back to the table and extending his hand to yours– taking it and leading you upstairs. The second you step foot into the bathroom, your breath hitches in your throat. The tub was already filled with warm water and full of bubbles, the air thick with the soothing scent of vanilla and sandalwood. Rose petals decorated the water and tile floor, with dozens of candles flickering around the room– the only source of light.

You turn to him. “When did you do all this?”

Kenny smirks. “I have my ways.”

With gentle hands he undresses you, his fingers trailing slowly down your arms before guiding you into the water. Warmth envelopes you, relaxing your muscles as you watch Kenny undress himself. He slips in behind you, pulling you into his chest. His arms snake around your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your bare shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he murmurs.

You lean back against him, sighing contentedly. “Best one yet, baby.”

The two of you relax in each other’s embrace, soaking in the moment– one that you don’t get often with how often he’s on the road. You feel the water ripple beside you as he brings his arms out of the water, cupping water in his hands as he rinses your hair. He reaches for your shampoo– the one you bought specifically because he loves the scent, and gathers some in his hands before lathering it and bringing his hands to your hair. He massages your scalp, his hands warm and deliberate, working the soap through your roots and ends before rinsing it out. He follows with body wash, his body wash, and rubs the skin along your shoulders and chest– kneading the tension out of your muscles. The soft glide of his fingers sends shivers along your spine and soon his lips follow, brushing the sensitive skin of your ear once more.

“Kenny…” Your voice barely whispers.

He hums, his hands drifting lower. “I told you– I got this.”

The water ripples as he turns you to face him, rinsing the soap from your body. He watches the water cascade from your skin, his eyes dark with something deeper than just affection, then brings his hand to your cheek. His thumb brushes your lips before capturing them in a kiss– slow, passionate, and filled with all the love in the world.

You melt in his arms, your fingers threading through his damp hair as his hands explore your body under the water. His touch is gentle yet firm, teasing yet possessive. The steam wraps around you both, the heat between you far exceeding that of the water.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his lips swollen and red from the kissing, his breathing heavy. “You are so damn beautiful.”

Your heart races as he trails his kisses lower, his mouth finding the most sensitive spots along your neck, your collarbone, and lower still. His fingers ghost over your thigh, spreading warmth in their wake.

“I think we need to take this somewhere more… comfortable,” he whispers, his voice husky.

You nod, breathless, as he stood, water dripping from his toned body. He holds out his hand, helping you out of the tub before wrapping a plush towel around you. But the moment your feet touch the floor, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom. You take in the sights around you– rose petals scattering across the bedroom floor and your shared bed, a bottle of Dom Pérignon resting on ice, and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

A giggle escapes you. “So, dinner and a bath weren’t enough?”

Kenny smirks, sitting you on the bed gently. “Oh love,” he murmurs, he presses a kiss to your cheek, “the night’s just getting started. Here,” He hands you a flute of champagne. “To us.”

You both sip your glasses as he reaches for a strawberry, swirling it in the air playfully before bringing it to your lips.

“You know, they say strawberries are an aphrodisiac.”

You smirk, staring into his eyes as you take a slow bite, your fingers brushing his. “Mmm… then I guess you’re trying to get me in trouble tonight.”

He laughs, taking another sip of his champagne. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just celebrating.”

You raise your glass to his, your eyes darkening with something deeper. “To celebrating, then. And to you– my favorite indulgence.”

You clink glasses, sipping slowly, your eyes locked on one another over the rim. You reach for a strawberry, holding it between your fingers before pressing it gently against his lips.

“Your turn.”

He takes a bite, licking a stray bit of chocolate from his lip. “Delicious. But I think you taste even better.”

He groans softly, setting his glass aside before leaning in, his fingers tilting your chin up. Your lips meet, warm and unhurried, tasting of champagne and chocolate. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer and guiding you towards the center of the bed. Your fingers intertwine themselves in his hair, tugging gently at the strands along the nape of his neck, drawing a soft groan from his lips. The towels that had clung to your bodies were now long gone, laying on the floor in a heap as you were now chest to chest– skin to skin. The warmth radiated between you, heartbeats in sync, moving together as one.

His fingers trail down your body faintly, ghosting along your freshly bathed skin directly where you needed him most. They danced along the flesh of your thighs, moving ever so delicately towards your aching heat as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and gently sucking fresh marks along your jaw. You whine in a mixture of pleasure and frustration, your body calling to him for more.

“Be patient, baby,” he breathes into your skin, “I’m in no rush tonight.”

Kenny’s lips find yours once more and you sigh in content, his fingers growing closer and closer to your glistening core. You shiver when his digits finally reach you, your eyes fluttering closed as he drags his fingers through your wetness, finding your clit and rubbing soft circles into the swollen bud. You hiss, your head falling onto the mattress as you finally feel relief from this burning tension. Your hips unconsciously follow his movements, your body desperate for more– dying for more.

You weren’t the only one silently begging for release, however, as his hardened cock pressed into your thigh– and for a moment you swore you could practically feel him throbbing against you. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, pumping his cock with your hand, earning a guttural moan from him. His head falls in the crook of your neck, soft moans and groans being breathed into your ear as you stroked him. It was then that his fingers teased your entrance, entering you one at a time, and thrusting into you with slow and deliberate movements.

His voice is husky and full of lust as he whispers in your ear, “Fuck, Y/N… still so fuckin’ tight for me…”

“Means you gotta fuck me more, baby,” you breathe out, the curling of his fingers inside you having you nearly breathless.

He growls, lifting his head and resting his forehead on yours. His eyes are trained on you, watching your face contort with the slow thrust of his fingers as he himself tries to keep his composure from your touch on his cock. He pulls himself away from your hand, removing his fingers from inside you much to your protest, and instead teases your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Later. Right now,” his lips brush against yours, mere centimeters away from pressing them together again, “I wanna make love to you, baby.”

You gasp as his length slowly enters you, stretching you around him– your walls molding to the size of him. You’ve had sex with Kenny countless times, but he never fails to take your breath away every time he pushes himself inside you. His eyes stare into yours as you bite your lip, and you’re convinced you’ve drawn blood, but all of your thoughts melt away as Kenny stares at you lovingly while he buries himself deeper inside you. He stops as he’s bottomed out inside you, a breathy moan falling from his lips as he locks your lips again, devoting every ounce of love and passion into the kiss. He doesn’t stop kissing you as he begins to rock his hips against yours, his cock slowly thrusting inside you.

Whimpers and moans escape you with every movement of his hips, your body overcome with pleasure as he delivers on his promise to make love to you. He pulls away from your lips, breathing heavier as he brings your legs to his hips, letting them interlock around his waist as his slow thrusts continue. You moan his name like a mantra, the sounds of your lovemaking echoing your shared bedroom.

“O–oh, Kenny…”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful.” He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and with each new location they find he utters compliments, affirmations, and most of all– proclamations of his love for you. He feels your pussy flutter around him with each sentence, your body telling him you believe each word that falls from his lips, but most importantly– that you’re close to your release. His fingers find your clit once more, resuming his soft circling motions which makes you cry out for him even more.

“K–Kenny, baby, I–”

“Eyes on me, baby…” he mutters, “Wanna watch you cum for me. I’ve got you.”

Your eyes open to his already looking into yours, and you feel it. The love, the passion, the desire, all combined and manifested into one single gaze. It’s this gaze that sends you over the edge, your orgasm rippling through you– powerful and warm, just like him. His follows suit, his eyes never leaving yours as he releases himself inside you.

The two of you ride out your respective orgasms together, heartbeats still as one, the rise and fall of your chests in unison. Nothing else matters in this moment, the entire world has completely faded from existence– it’s just you and Kenny. The two of you. Together as one.

He pulls out of you slowly and you whine at the loss, feeling incomplete without him consuming every ounce of you, and he chuckles– pulling you into his chest.

“So, how’d I do, baby?” he mutters, placing a kiss below your ear.

“Not too bad, so long as you don’t forget about those candles like you did the potatoes.” You giggle, gesturing to the candles in the bathroom, still burning bright.

“Fuck!” Kenny scrambles out of bed, running to the bathroom as you laugh at him, your heart full of nothing but love and admiration– despite the domestic chaos.

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spotofimagines · 4 months ago

Text

Hit Me ~ Drew McIntyre

A/N: So Drew returned on Raw this week and I wrote this faster than I've written anything in a long time. Enjoy some more angst from this feud! Let me know if you want a part 2 of this because I'd love to write more👀

Warnings: verbal conflict - reader is female

Word count: 3.9k

Drew McIntyre x reader, Seth Rollins x sibling!reader

Summary: Seth doesn't take Drew's return to Raw well, and what happens with his sister after the show ends only makes it worse.

94. “Come here.” “Why?” “Just come here.” “No, you're going to hit me.”

gif by @samijey

Seth had been suspicious; he had been for a while. He knew there was a new guy you were hiding from him, no matter how many times you denied it nor how little he wanted to believe it could be someone else in the company.

But there was no denying what Seth was seeing. His little sister with a man he barely wanted to see in the corridors again, nevermind talking to you and certainly not as close and cosy as what he was watching, and Seth swore at himself under his breath for coming back in this direction.

Seth’s steps had slowed to a halt, his hands on his hips and chest still breathing deeply after his match, and his wet hair began to cling a bit too tightly to his neck. He couldn’t help the heat rising to his ears at the sight of you leaning against the wall with a towering frame shadowing over you. The way you twirled the string of his jacket around your finger was making Seth’s knuckles turn white.

His fury was silent to you. All you focussed on was Drew, inches from you, warmth washing over you without a single touch. His wide shoulders blocked out the surrounding environment and his blue eyes bore into yours, a smirk growing at the movements of your finger pulling him slightly closer to you.

Drew had been away for two months, but the time apart had made it feel like more. You had started to build a connection in the summer before he took a break from the road and the space only made you realise how much you would grow to miss his presence backstage, and more so in the hotels afterwards.

What started as Drew trying to get leverage and extra information about Seth and CM Punk earlier in the year, turned into rendezvouses and long talks between you as he discovered the details and intricacies within you that would keep pulling him into your path. It was devious, exhilarating, a whole new side to Drew you’d never known over the years, and a hell of a lot of fun.

While you never ratted on your brother to him, never shared with Drew what he didn’t already know, there was no way Seth could find out you had been talking to him at all.

As a wrestler on the roster, you had your own friendships and rivalries, but Seth always kept an eye on what went on, making sure his feuds never spilled chaos onto you.

About a year ago, he’d taken it almost a step too far. When he caught you sitting in catering with Jey Uso, he all but exploded, finding a poor excuse to pull you away with a firm grip and a push in the opposite direction. The lecture shouted to you on the drive to the hotel was less than kind, and though it was nothing you hadn’t heard a million times, his fury was on another level.

It wasn’t like it used to be years ago. These rivalries, these men, they were something he didn’t want you touching at all.

If Seth knew you had a hand in his business in the summer, knew you’d been texting a wrestler, organising time together between shows, feeling his lips trace your body when the sun had set…

You could only imagine what he might do, especially with the stress he’d been under with his recent matches and The Bloodline.

You hated to see him so riled up about his former friends, but you were grateful that his frustrations had distracted him from your excitement.

There was a spring in your step that day that was hard to contain, a giddiness that buzzed through you. Drew was coming back. He’d be at the arena, on the show, and back on the road. You would get to hold him again, see his face right in front of your own, get wrapped in his huge arms and hear his deep accent drawl in your ears.

You got goosebumps just thinking about it on the drive to the arena, and thanked whatever entity watched over you that Seth’s bubbling irritation made your exuberance fly under the radar.

Those same shivers ran down your spine as you stood under Drew’s form, his arm beside your head as he leant on the wall behind you with his other hand comfortably squeezing your hip. His bare torso peaked out from beneath his jacket and Drew didn’t miss your eyes trailing down the hair that covered his chest and stomach down to his waistband.

You sighed out a breath to restrain the thoughts that wanted to come out but couldn’t. Not there, not yet. Your eyes travelled back to Drew’s and the mischievous glint was hard to miss.

“So, you’ll text me your room number later? I’ll catch you up on what you’ve been missing around here.”

Though your teasing was loud, your words were quiet. Despite the lack of people around, you always stayed cautious. The last thing you wanted was some gossiping crew member to be wondering why you of all people would be helping Drew out.

If you had known you had a spectator, maybe you would have said something different. Maybe you wouldn’t have unravelled your finger from his jacket string and hooked his belt loop to nudge his hips even closer.

“Oh, I look forward to hearing, and seeing, all the details Princess.” He glanced up and down your body as his gruff voice rumbled through your chest and his breathy chuckle fanned over your face. With a slight shake of his head, always delightfully taken back by your forward flirting, Drew looked over both shoulders and moved his hand up from your hip towards your chin.

But before his skin touched yours, the sparks trying their best to jump through the gap, Drew dropped both his arms to his sides and stood straight. The smirk had long gone from his lips and his jaw stiffened above his squared shoulders.

Confused by the sudden switch, you followed Drew’s gaze down the hallway and joined him in straightening up. Your eyes went wide with a silent gasp as they met the discerning look on your brother’s face.

As your body turned to him properly, a slight distance growing between you and Drew, your heart felt like it might burst through your ribs and land thumping on the ground in front of you.

Seth didn’t move. He just stood watching the two of you pretend nothing had happened. To anyone else, he would be unreadable, no semblance of a reaction to pick up on, but you saw the tight grip his fingers were having on his hips. He could hide a few things well, but anger wasn’t one of them.

A light touch on your lower back stole your attention and pulled your focus back to your end of the hallway. Drew rubbed his hand up and down a little bit. His eyes went without a trace of worry and his gentle touch brought an effort to soothe you.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Drew uttered, his voice pouring like honey. The wink he left you with did nothing but make your heart beat faster, and when you met Seth’s eyes again, it beat so fast the blood was vibrating in your ears.

The lingering flutter on your skin from Drew’s fingers faded with each step he took towards Seth.

The pair exchanged nothing but a glare as he passed on his way to the parking lot. Drew kept his head held high while walking around the corner, whereas Seth’s foot had started tapping on the floor, itching to say what he really thought.

“What are you doing?” Seth asked, eerily calm and quiet, a tone that didn’t match an inch of his body.

When you struggled for any words, the stifled emotions in his chest broke the surface.

“Huh?” He shouted impatiently, making you jump a little from the sudden noise, and his steps marched towards you.

“Drew McIntyre? What are you doing with him?” His voice was loud, and you knew Drew would be smirking in the next corridor at the sound of Seth’s anger.

“I don’t know! I don’t know, exactly. It just sort of happened-“

“What happened? Hm? You tell me what happened-“

“What do I need to tell you? It’s none of your business what I do.”

“It is my business when it’s him!” Seth roared. The anger in his eyes rained over you as his voice seemed to echo off the walls. His arm was flung behind him and his heavy breaths filled the silence that followed.

The air around you was getting hotter and clinging to your skin. You knew this was bad, the whole connection with Drew was bad. You’d known it since it first started.

But you couldn’t help yourself. It was fun. The fact it never should have happened fuelled the fire in both of you and now neither of you wanted to stop.

Even with Seth stood in front of you, radiating fury and throwing his arms out in disbelief, even with the threat of whatever actions might come next, not a slither of regret crossed your mind.

“Y/N,” he said in a lower volume but just as stern, “everything I do here, everything I do for you, I do for your safety. I keep you away from those people for a reason. I can’t keep you safe if you’re going to go galivanting, playing with their jackets in the hallways, inviting them to treat you however they want. It’s not right. You can’t do that.” His voice grew louder as he spoke, pointing his finger down the hallway before directing itself to you.

You stared down at his finger, huffing out a breath with your hands on your hips. The blood was boiling up in you now, your cheeks tingling red at the nerve your brother’s words carried. Now it was your voice steadily beginning to ring with the same rage.

“I can’t do that? Since when did you start deciding what I can and cannot do?” Seth rolled his eyes – of course you would pick up on the completely wrong thing, the thing he knew he shouldn’t had said as soon as it left his mouth. His annoyed attitude only made you angrier.

“You can’t protect me forever. You can’t be there all the time. You can’t act like I don’t know how to look after myself. We’re not kids anymore, you can’t be by my side pushing away every sign of danger-“

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that’s what scares me? Huh?” Seth shouted.

Then, after a second of nothing, just staring daggers at each other while trying to figure out what was going to come next, Seth rubbed his hands down his face and began to turn away before facing you again with his hands heavy by his side.

“I just want you to be okay, and be safe, and think about what you’re doing here. I don’t want you to be in danger because of him.”

Even though his hand pointed out to you again, his words were calm, the faint traits of his heart pouring out with them. Seth wasn’t the kind to share his feelings easily with you, and never gave much honesty as to why he acted the way he did in certain situations, but the small vulnerability that peaked out was enough for you to know why he cared.

He knew what Drew was capable of. He’d seen all Drew had done in recent times and witnessed a lot of it first-hand. He’d lost his championship to Drew and seen the violent spiral of obsession that followed through the year. The Scot had bled out envy and rage more than anyone should. Seth knew how difficult it was to be associated with Drew, especially with CM Punk clouding his mind like a constant fog.

Seth didn’t want you remotely close to any of that. The idea of you getting involved with the feud around Summerslam was shot down in an instant with some serious words that rarely left him, and he became guest referee instead, keeping you firmly cemented elsewhere.

But being with Drew was the furthest thing from dangerous. You never worried about a thing with him.

Even in that first interaction months ago, where you sensed there was an ulterior motive to his intentions, Drew was courteous and respectful and followed your lead. He understood why things had to be kept quiet. He made excuses with so many people to give himself free time with you. He shared things with you in those early morning hours wrapped in hotel sheets across the country that he wouldn’t imagine telling anybody else. He never came close to laying a rough hand on you once

In fact, you didn’t think you ever felt safer walking the WWE halls than when you knew Drew had your back.

He’d almost risked it all already. Risked exposing what you were together and having Seth rain down on him. All because Liv Morgan had played dirty in your match, with Dominik Mysterio ringside to back her up. You were lucky you made it back to gorilla first, because the look on Drew’s face as he stood waiting for his match, watching the screen with his arms folded and a security guard precariously waiting beside him with a ruffled collar, it was a sight to behold.

Drew didn’t care who he had to put down to make sure you were okay. He’d made that perfectly clear. So how could you worry about danger when one of the most threatening men on the roster all but worshipped the ground you walked on?

You took a moment to think before you spoke, trying not to let a laugh of disbelief out at the notion that Drew would cause you harm. Seth didn’t know what Drew was like with you, how he treated you, how his strong arms only made you relax, not worry.

All that Seth had seen was him standing over you in the hallway after attacking Sami Zayn.

“Seth, there’s nothing to protect me from with him. No danger to be scared about. I promise.”

The look in Seth’s eyes told you he wasn’t sure, but when you raised your eyebrows and nodded a little, he knew he had no choice but to back down, even if he didn’t believe it yet.

“Alright,” Seth muttered, holding his hands up in defeat as he slowly started down the hall, his words barely hitting your ears as he passed, “whatever you say.”

You watched as he walked away and sighed, shaking your hands at your side to relieve the tension. But the spinning of Seth’s heel made your head shoot up and your shoulders go tight again.

“Wait,” Seth said, pointing at you again and squinting in thought, “you better not tell me he’s the guy…”

Seth waited for you to respond but you couldn’t. You didn’t know what to say. Lying to your brother’s face right in that moment felt wrong, but you couldn’t get the truth out.

You shook your head a little and played it off in confusion. “What guy?”

Seth raised his eyebrows, and his stare burned through you.

“Y/N…” He repeated, daring you to tell him he was right.

The guy. The mystery man that had you smiling at your phone more often, had you unable to take other people’s calls, had you listening to softer songs in the car, had you happy.

Each time Seth had noticed something like this, he joked and jeered about your new Prince Charming already making you royalty. Until you started getting flowers handed to you by staff when you showed up at arenas and hotels, and he figured it had to be someone in the company to know where you’d be.

After that, he stopped joking so much and kept his revelations to himself to piece together. If you were happy, then he wanted you to be happy, but if certain wrestlers were acting that way with you then he’d have no choice but to break it up. So, he left it alone for a while, perfectly content with not knowing which of his colleagues wanted to shack up with his sister.

You kept your eyes locked with his. Your hands slotted onto your hips as you opened your mouth to speak, but let nothing out, shrugging a little before you sighed.

You had nothing to say that he’d want to hear. And he had a lifetime of experience in knowing what your secrets looked like.

Seth scoffed and dropped his hand, looking away at anything but you. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his face again, sighing out and shaking his head as his hand held his beard and he stared at the ceiling.

“He’s the guy you’ve been seeing.” He mumbled to himself, still shaking his head slightly.

Drew McIntyre. He couldn’t believe it was Drew McIntyre. Ater all this time. Through all they’re escapades this year, he had been sneaking around with his dear little sister right under his nose.

Seth had had thoughts about which of the talent in the locker room could have been trying to win you over. Some of them were true gentlemen that he thought he could grow to accept if he needed to, but they were few and far between, and Drew was certainly not one of them.

He turned his attention back to you, tongue in cheek and his hands falling on his hips as the same anger was bubbling up inside him again.

“Him? Really?” Seth accused with judgement laced in his tone. He wanted to shout, you could tell by the way his jaw tightened and how his eyebrows furrowed, but he held himself back.

How could he shout when you were stood in front of him like that.

Fear traced every line of you, unsure what he would say or do. You’d played the scenario over in your mind a thousand times, how you would tell him gently, ease him into the idea with subtle hints in the days before.

You prepared for any way he could react to that. You never once prepared for him stumbling across you almost kissing in the hallway five minutes after an episode of Raw.

The way you couldn’t look him in the eye and chewed on your lip as you anticipated his next move made Seth rethink his actions.

He really did think you looked happy during the past few months. But seeing you panic about what he might do due to who was causing that happiness? The feeling made his stomach drop.

Seth’s duty was to protect you, not scare you. It always had been, and nothing in the world would change that.

He took a moment to really take in the sight of you and the way the nervousness embodied itself from your head to toe. All he could do was sigh before stretching out a hand to you.

“Come here.”

“Why?” You asked, suspicious of his tender tone and the inviting wag of his fingers.

“Just come here.”

“No, you're going to hit me.”

Seth raised his eyebrows at you mockingly, silently asking if you really thought he’d do such a thing.

When he saw you weren’t entirely joking, he rolled his eyes and tutted against his teeth, taking a step closer to reach and grab the back of your shoulder.

You dragged your feet to cover the rest of the space between you before his arms fully pulled you in.

The hug enveloped you, a familiar comfort washing over you. Even though his back was sweaty, and his hair dripped on your skin, you wrapped your arms tight around his waist.

You could very much sense the uncertainty in his body, the tension that still lay there from his promo, his match, him seeing you with Drew then finding out you had been cosying up for months.

But his hand squeezed your shoulder and all you felt was security. Trust. Resolution.

You could feel his beard moving a little against your head as his mouth opened and closed a few times. It was a vision in your mind as clear as day - him trying to find the right words to translate what his heart wanted you to know.

“Promise me that if anything happens, you’ll tell me.” He said lowly in your ear. You chuckled a little to yourself, the one you’d stifled before but didn’t manage to stop this time.

“No, I’m serious Y/N. Promise me,” He said, pulling his head away and grabbing your shoulders with his hands, “because I’ll kick his ass in a heartbeat if he hurts you.”

In any other circumstance, he’d say this as a joke. It’d be your big brother kidding around, wanting to tear the whole city down when he knew you’d be alright doing it on your own. But this time it wasn’t so funny to him, and he needed to hear you say you trusted him. That you knew Seth would protect you no matter who stood on the other side of the fight.

His eyes searched yours inquisitively, looking for any hint of doubt beneath the surface. It was a seriousness you hadn’t seen before.

“I promise.” You said earnestly, and you saw a slight relief flood his features.

Seth knew you. If you wanted to do something, by all means necessary, you were going to do it. This was as much as he could do about you seeing Drew as possible.

At least for now, anyway.

He squeezed your shoulders again and gave the smallest smile he could as he stepped away. You knew Seth didn’t trust Drew, not a single bit, but he trusted you. You just hoped he trusted you enough.

“Alright,” Seth breathed out, “I left my shirt in gorilla so,” he pointed over his shoulder as his words trailed off.

“Yeah, you, er, you better go get that.” You said, not knowing what else to say. You both weren’t used to moments like that all too often, and the last thing you wanted was him boiling over again from a silly comment.

He nodded and started walking away but turned to walk backwards as he spoke again.

“I’ll shower then we’ll head to the hotel. That still your plan?” He asked, and you couldn’t tell if he was mocking this time.

It would be just his nature to make that joke, but this wasn’t a laughing matter for him, and you knew it. He had a genuine curious look on his face, a hopeful one that you wouldn’t be diving into Drew’s arms, that you wouldn’t be leaving the arena with a man he had lost all love for.

“Yeah, of course,” You tried to speak with positivity, but felt silly for trying, “I’ll meet you at the car in 20.”

Seth sent a thumbs up over his head as he finally turned around for good.

You just watched him walking away from you, his head down as he unwrapped the tape from his wrists with force. His shoulders still showed the stress he felt, and you couldn’t start to imagine what thoughts were running through his mind with each step.

This was not how you expected the night to end. A much-anticipated reunion with Drew now presumably overshadowed by plans of how to not let this impact his return to the roster.

While you wanted to stay excited at the thought of alone time with him again, all you could think about as you headed to the arena exit was what on earth you and Seth were going to talk about in the car.

#drew mcintyre #seth rollins #drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre x reader #seth rollins imagine #wwe #wrestling #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine #oneshot #my fic #my og post

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wormswurld · 3 months ago

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art is the new kid to the team and everyone (including patrick) underestimates him.. one time patrick watches art absolutely lay out a guy twice his size and has an “oh shit this guy is actually good moment” but he lets his superiority complex get in the way and makes it his duty to provoke art so he can wrestle him & prove to his team “hey i’m still the best player!”…

cut to the locker rooms and pat is eyeing the shit out of art, thinking of what he’s gonna say to art to essentially have him “back down” and maybe even quit the team cuz patrick is ‘so’ strong and intimidating… “hey donaldson!” and art just turns around, hair still wet from his shower, towel hanging on his hips, looking as unfazed as everrrr “i know you think you’re hot shit ‘cuz of practice, but you have nothing on me or this team..” and patrick makes the nastiest face he can to try and get his point across, puffing out his chest and widening his stance (looking like an idiot)… and art just sees right through him, making his way over to pat, expressionless face, yet patrick could tell there was something in his eyes.. “you’re no threat to me…” art presses closer to patrick’s face, making sure patrick can feel his warm breath, “zweig..” perfectly pronouncing patrick’s last name (which is a shock and a turn on to him) before forcefully brushing shoulders with him as he grabs his stuff to go get ready in another part of the locker room

now cut to art’s first match with the team and patrick is dreading potentially looking like an idiot in front of his teammates & whole school but all he can do is shake his head trying to rid himself of his thoughts, and in the corner of his eye he sees art staring at him like hawk… okay fuck now patrick is sweating a little because why do you mean this pretty-face piece-of-shit- donaldson is looking at him but all art does is mouth “good luck” before their coach puts his hand on patrick’s shoulder and asks “are you ready to get in there?” and pat just quickly nods as a way of reassuring himself “yeah yeah i was born ready” and the coach just laughs “that’s what i like to hear, now get your ass in there” blah blah blah wrestling stuff blah blah patrick is wrestling some guy, doing a pretty good job to be honest, but the guy he’s s with starts to realize fuck i don’t have a chance of winning so he does some sort of an illegal move (idfk just walk with me) and he immediately gets disqualified…

and patrick’s cocky ass just stands up and starts celebrating like he just won the lottery or some shit but his coach quickly stops him and motions to art on the bench “donaldson, in, boys finish this out” quadruple major fuck cuz patrick is actually going to wrestle art but he can’t let his thoughts take over, let’s not act like a little bitch now… and once the coach says go art is immediately on patrick, pinning him down by his arms, letting all his weight fall onto his legs rendering patrick stuck like a rat in a glue trap… now patrick’s starting to get nervous because he’s supposed to be pinning art down + he can feel art’s dick press into his leg and he really really doesn’t need this right now but he somehow ends up getting art into a headlock for a good couple of seconds…

continuing the headlock patrick and his big mouth does what it does best: shit talk; “what happened blondie, get too scared? gonna give up?” and art just laughs up in patrick’s face as he does some magician shit and has his legs hooked around patrick’s (as if they are scissoring…..sorrrryyyy) and art just smiles, sweat trickling down his shaped nose as he now laughs at patrick, somehow still finding some room/flexibility to get closer to patrick art places his arm above patrick’s shoulder, looking down at the flushed, furrowed browed brunette under him…

at this point patrick feels like he’s in hell because not only is he losing to the new guy, he’s doing it in front of the whole school, while being wildly turned on by the fact he’s being pinned down by said new guy… and god art is all sweaty and he can smell his musk from his armpit which is right by his head, fuck he’s dizzy.. “what happened to being mr. tough guy? didn’t know you enjoyed being pinned down by… such hot shit, isn’t that right pat?” and art sees patrick’s eyes roll back momentarily before he hears their coach shout “time!”… and before patrick knows is art is off of him, leaving him sweaty, panting, and hard in his uniform on the mat.. slowly patrick cranes his head over to see him being awarded a medal and congratulated by their team….

flash forward to the dreaded locker room patrick is showering in the last stall (he can’t bear to see nor hear his teammates congratulate art and hit him with the “better luck next time zweig”) “hey zweig” patrick wants to die. preferably right now. patrick slightly turns to art, continuing to wash his body, just waiting for art to insult him and his big ego and leave him alone to sulk… and probably jerk off,, “you put up a good fight out there, y’know, with the headlock and everything?” art drawls, leaning himself on the half wall of the shower, smugly grinning at patrick… “just fuck off alright, i know what you’re here for donaldson” patrick spits of, turning his back to art as he starts to lather his head with shampoo…

silently making his way to the shower beside patrick, art places his lips just shy away from patrick’s ear, “and just what would that be?” and stupidly, patrick slightly jumps with surprise, art’s warmth breath returning on his skin makes him embarrassingly hard (again)… unable to open his eyes patrick just tries his best to speed run his shower, washing the heaps of shampoo out of his hair before art starts to fuck with him even more… “because, if you think about it, i think you actually like me being here…talking to you as you try to hide how hard your dick is from me..” patrick quickly wipes his eyes, which then begin to sting, as he opens his mouth to respond “ah- no talking, you did enough of that out there patrick, it’s time for me to do the talking, can you handle that for once?”

“fuck, please just-" patrick starts, before getting cut off by art once again, slowly leaning in to turn off patrick’s running shower head “just what? leave you the fuck alone? what makes you think i’ll do that, it’s not like you’ve given me that pleasure since i’ve joined huh? i see the way you look at me zweig, don’t try to hide it now” backing himself into the wall patrick rolls his eyes, this is fucking stupid, so fucking stupid.. “look man-” he gets up from the wall, sizing art up, with his dick out and everything… “i’m not a fucking pansy okay, now just fuck right the fuck off before we have a problem” art just grins, a big cheshire cat-like grin, self-satisfied by how wound up he’s got the boy before him… “problem? you talk as if you’re gonna do something, i think the problem is that you might be scared of you dick filling up when i’m on top of you” and patrick just turns his head away, blush creeping down his neck as art stares at his naked body…“look, it’s even doing it now..” art whispers, humiliating patrick further,, his dick heavily resting on the tuft of black hair on his naval…

“fuck you, j-just touch me alright, get it over with..” patrick groans as art makes his hand down his chest, tracing over every freckle, making sure to push on his nipple in the process… “oh patrick,” art coos “come on now, we both know you want this… been wanting this for awhile now” and patrick’s breath hitches as he rolls his head to the side, quickly grabbing his length art applies more pressure getting another strained groaned out of patrick “answer me pat, don’t take all day” and patrick just mumbles out a series of yeah’s as art starts to stroke him, their heavy breathing filling up the empty, foggy, locker room…

fin.

some moots i thought of while writing this: @judeable-brainrot @ghostgirl-22 @cairngorm-ard 💖

#wrestling is hot sooo…#craved some bratty patrick #need art to fuck his brains out in that locker room #artrick #art x patrick #art challengers #patrick challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers au #challengers wrestling au #challengers #challengers smut #oneshot #lgbtqia #wormswurld brainrot 🌟#wormswurld posts

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ripleyismymami · 4 months ago

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Hii! Soo this is my first time writing fanfic in some other language than my own mother language, so bare with me. I'm more than welcome to receiving feedback on this, so if you have comments, don't be afraid of leaving them🙈 anyways, enjoy?

Tags: Slow burn, enemies to lovers, a bit of smut, wlw, a bit of dom/sub dynamic, dom/rhea & sub/reader

Summary: Reader is a promising newbie wrestler, Rhea and reader usually don't get along very well, but a quick sparring session changed the course of the events.

You weren’t born into privilege. Every step you’d taken to get here had been earned through long nights, aching muscles, and the relentless drive that burned inside you. Making it into WWE’s roster was a dream you’d fought for with everything you had, but it also came with a cost. You were constantly under scrutiny—never the strongest, the fastest, or the most experienced, and you’d learned to fight tooth and nail just to prove you belonged.

And then there was Rhea Ripley.

From the moment you met, she had been a storm in your life. Where others praised your determination, she sneered, picking apart your weaknesses with a precision that left you reeling. You told yourself it was jealousy, or maybe insecurity, but deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that she saw something in you you didn’t even see in yourself.

That’s what scared you the most.

You tighten the tape around your wrists, pulling the ends taut as the echo of your own movements fills the empty training room. It’s late—intentionally so. You didn’t want to run into anyone tonight, especially her.

Your stomach churns at the thought of her: Rhea Ripley. The smug smile, the biting comments, and the way her eyes seem to pierce right through you every time you’re in the same room. She’s been a thorn in your side since day one, always there to remind you how far you still have to go to measure up to her.

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away, and step into the ring. It’s quiet—just the sound of your sneakers on the mat as you run through drills. The repetition calms you, allowing you to forget the nagging ache of failure that

Rhea always seems to provoke.

“Still working on that weak left hook?”

Her voice cuts through the silence like a blade, and you freeze mid-punch. Turning slowly, you see her leaning casually against the ropes, arms folded, her trademark smirk firmly in place.

“What do you want, Rhea?” you snap, not even trying to hide your irritation.

“Relax, sweetheart,” she purrs, stepping into the ring. “Just here to see what’s got you hiding out so late. Thought maybe you’d finally realized how hopeless you are.”

Her words ignite a fire in your chest, but you clench your fists and refuse to rise to the bait.

“Or maybe,” she continues, her voice dropping to a teasing lilt, “you just like the idea of me showing up to put you in your place.”

Your breath hitches at the suggestion, and her eyes narrow as she catches the flicker of hesitation.

The Fight

“Why are you still here?” you finally ask, unable to take it anymore.

She leans against the ropes, arms crossed over her chest. “You once said I tear people down. Maybe I’m sticking around to prove you wrong.”

You shoot her a skeptical look. “You’re not exactly known for being anyone’s cheerleader.”

She laughs, low and throaty. “Fair point. But maybe you’re worth more than I gave you credit for.”

The admission catches you off guard, and you freeze, trying to decipher the glint in her eyes.

“Show me,” she says suddenly, stepping into the ring.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Show me what you’ve got.” Her smirk returns, but there’s something different in it now—something more dangerous.

You hesitate for only a moment before nodding. The idea of going head-to-head with Rhea is intimidating, but there’s no way you’re backing down.

"Fine. Maybe it's good for you to learn not to underestimate me for a change." You say, mostly trying to convince yourself about this being a good idea.

You charge first, testing her defenses with quick jabs and calculated strikes. She blocks you effortlessly, her movements fluid and confident. When she counters, it’s with devastating precision, and you quickly realize just how much of a talent gap there is between you.

Each time she knocks you down, you get back up, gritting your teeth and forcing yourself to push harder. But somewhere in the middle of it, the line between competition and something more blurs.

Her hands linger on you a moment too long when she pins you down. The heat of her breath on your skin sends a jolt through your body.

“You’re holding back,” she growls, her voice low and commanding. “Stop fighting like you’re afraid to lose.”

“I’m not afraid,” you snap, though your voice wavers.

Her smirk widens. “Then prove it.”

The next exchange is explosive. You throw everything you have into each strike, but she ultimately overpowers you, pinning you down once again. Her hand comes to rest against your throat, her grip firm but careful, and you freeze.

“You’re so predictable,” she murmurs, leaning down until her lips are just inches from your ear. “But you’ve got potential.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine. Before you can respond, she shifts her weight, her lips brushing against yours.

It’s tentative at first, but when you don’t pull away, she deepens the kiss. Her mouth moves against yours with a confidence that leaves you breathless, her teeth grazing your bottom lip just hard enough to draw a gasp from you.

Her hand slides from your throat to cup your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheek as she kisses you harder, more urgently. You can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips when her fingers slip beneath your shirt, her touch setting your skin ablaze.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” she asks, her voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Her smirk returns, triumphant and wicked, as she pulls your shirt over your head in one swift motion. Her hands roam your body, exploring every inch of bare skin as her lips find your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that send heat pooling low in your stomach.

She takes her time, savoring every reaction she pulls from you until you’re trembling beneath her. When her mouth moves lower, pressing heated kisses along your collarbone and down your stomach, you can’t help but arch into her touch, a choked cry escaping your lips.

“Relax,” she murmurs, her voice soft but commanding. “I’ve got you.”

As she’s kissing her way lower, her hands grip your thighs to hold you in place as she unravels you completely. The world narrows to the feel of her, the tension building until it finally shatters, leaving you breathless and boneless beneath her.

When she climbs back up to hover over you, her eyes dark and filled with satisfaction, you know you’re in trouble.

“You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?” you ask, your voice weak but teasing.

“Not a chance,” she replies, pulling you into another kiss.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley smut #wwe raw #wwe womens wrestling #rhea ripley oneshot #wlw #demi bennett #terror twins #rhea ripley fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot

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deansdelicate · 8 months ago

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I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER II: WATCHING YOU FOR AGES

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [8.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, mentions of having a baby out of wedlock (steph and paul), slight allusions to anxiety/loneliness, flirting (you don't even have to squint), mostly a light-hearted, domestic chapter <3

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: You're still getting accustomed to the fast life that comes with working for WWE, but it's all starting to settle down and you're beginning to feel like you belong with each day that passes—and it sure does help when a special someone is always going out of their way to make sure you know it too.

Seth and the rest of the superstars sat patiently on the shuttle bus, awaiting one last person before they could head to the arena for the night’s taping of SmackDown. It wasn’t often that they got to travel as one big group, but it was always something he took up when possible.

Usually the procedure was driving themselves to and from cities, hotels, and arenas, but now that Paul was in charge, he did his best to work in bus accommodations in order to give talent the slot to relax before shows. But even then, some opted to drive themselves, like Roman who was missing from his usual seat beside Seth.

“Who are we even waiting for?” Xavier complained, standing up to scan the area, trying to detect who exactly was holding them up.

“I’m surprised it isn’t you,” Seth cackled over at Finn who was notoriously known for being chronically late to every bus ride.

The Irish lad rolled his eyes. “Whoever has me beat is far more a mess.”

“Mr. Driver, can we get this show on the road?” piped Kofi with a clap as all the superstars agreed, preferring to get to the arena before doors so they could all get situated.

The driver looked up in the rear-view mirror, laughing shortly with the shake of his head. The superstars grumbled, patience dwindling by the second, trying to pinpoint who was the culprit of them running behind and making a pact to bar them from any future bus rides.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather outside the hotel—many of them children accompanied with their parents to get autographs and photos if they weren’t able to snag tickets to the show. But this time around, the crowd felt larger, more amateur photographers scattered throughout, which was odd considering it wasn’t a pay-per-view event.

“Oh, shit…” Big E singsonged, leaning out of his seat towards the window to see what all the ruckus was about as the fans’ cheers got louder.

Security surrounded you closely, keeping their arms outwards to stop people from getting too close to you. You happily waved at everyone, pausing for the kids who asked for autographs and selfies, making small talk with them before you waved goodbye and continued following the security.

“This way, Ms. Levesque.” One of the guards escorted you towards the doors of the bus, holding it open and ensuring you’d get in safely.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a tight smile, giving each of them a handshake for going out of their way for you.

“Hi! I’m so sorry for the holdup,” you apologized sincerely, turning to meet the driver, “They just wanted to make sure we were clear to go ahead.” You explained, extending your hand.

The man reassured you with a comforting shake of his head and meeting your hand gently. Your father was extremely protective of you, therefore many, if not all drivers and security crew of the company were well aware of the procedure of making sure you got where you needed to be safely no matter how long it took.

“You are precious cargo, Ms. Levesque. Have a seat and I’ll get us to the arena promptly.” He directed, gesturing you to get comfortable wherever you pleased.

Passing through the aisle, you smiled and said your ‘hello’s’ to everyone, most were surprised that you were joining them, considering that you were almost always a driven separately.

But what they didn’t know was that you had to practically beg your father to switch transportation for the day, simply wanting to be around everyone instead of being chauffeured to every event, which was starting to become a little lonely.

Seth sat in the last row of the bus, an empty seat beside him catching your eye. You paused in the aisle, pointing to the space with a hopeful smile.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” you asked timidly, crossing your fingers he didn’t mind you invading his space.

He immediately bopped his head, patting the seat.

“Course, here, let me help you.” He offered, holding his arms out towards you to take your things so that you could get settled with the fuss.

“Thanks.” You breathed a sigh of relief, passing him your purse and laptop.

You slid into the seat and buckled in before retrieving your stuff, your eyes meeting Seth’s with a grateful expression when his fingers brushed against yours for a split second.

“I hope you guys weren’t waiting too long,” you apologized, placing your purse on the ground between your feet.

He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. “Nah, we weren’t waiting long. Plus, it’s always a pleasure to be waiting for the princess herself.”

You giggled, brushing your hair over your shoulders then laying your head against the rest. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

The bus began moving en route to the arena that was a good twenty-five minutes away, giving you enough time to look over the script that you had been working on since what felt like forever ago. It was a part of an assignment your dad had you complete ting—writing four original scripts for the main roster, three of which focused on superstars who needed a bit more of character development.

The three completed scripts were met with praise by your dad alongside a number of producers and fellow writers who thought you were able to curate a story worthy enough to be showcased on TV. The remaining storyline, however, was a challenge—a romantic one.

You had been circling back to early storylines that involved romance, and while they were entertaining and good TV, they all felt one dimensional.

Therefore, you challenged yourself to come up with a script that would allow both leads to shine without acting as if their relationship was the only thing that existed. Sure, it was a longshot your dad would approve of it since TV hadn’t seen a romance trope in a while, but you wanted to take the risk and give it a shot.

“Important business?” Seth peered past your shoulder, raising his brow at your screen that had an overwhelming volume of text splayed across it.

You gawked up at him, nodding with a light laugh. “Just my final assignment.”

He looked at you, confused, feigning concern. “Final assignment? Did I miss the memo or something?”

You swung your head as you giggled, stopping your typing in order to show him exactly what you were up to.

“It’s the last storyline I’m writing for my dad to approve. I’ve been working on it for a while and now I’m just trying to polish it up for him.” You explained, tilting the screen towards him as you scrolled through the document.

“Whose it for?” he wondered, genuine curiosity in his eyes as he read a short fragment.

You rolled your shoulders with a shrug.

“To be honest, I don’t even have any particular superstars in mind. It’s very vague, but the details and sequencing are all there.”

“Well, if you’re writing it, I’m positive it’ll be worthy of Paul’s green-light.” He said confidently, his tone sincere, hoping it would make you feel slightly better to know he was rooting for you.

“I hope so,” your voice soft, exchanging tight smiles before you turned your attention back to work, trying to ignore the feeling of Seth’s eyes peering at you every so often while you typed away.

The bus ride was the perfect change of scenery even if it was just for a little while. It had been a bit lonesome traveling all by yourself and with the presence of everyone else you started to feel like you could get into the groove of things. Even if you weren’t involved in the conversation, the chatter of everyone cracking jokes made you grin through the work.

As the bus parked out back, the driver promptly exited to get the undercarriage opened so that talent could retrieve their luggages. Everyone stayed in their seats, just getting up to stretch their legs.

A security personnel poked their head into the bus, scanning the area until they saw you.

“Ms. Levesque, we’re going to escort you into the building.”

You acknowledged them with a nod, swiftly closing your laptop and gathering your things.

“How come we don’t get an escort too?” Kofi frowned, eliciting amusement from the entire bus, including yourself.

“Because I’m not a professional wrestler who could easily defend herself against crazed fans.” You half-joked with a pout.

“Noted.” Kofi replied with a smirk, flexing his arms and taking what you said as a compliment.

You shook your head with a laugh, turning back to Seth, who had been watching closely visibly seeing that now you were breaking out of your shell and learning everyone’s personalities.

“I’ll see you inside?” You proposed, getting up from your seat.

He nodded, knocking his knuckles against the window behind him. “See you in there.”

You twiddled your fingers goodbye before you walked through the aisle towards the front of the bus where security was already waiting.

“Bye everyone! I’ll see you inside,” you called out to everyone, waving as you exited and followed security through the surveillance screening to get into the arena.

After retrieving his bags, Seth headed straight to the locker room, dropping off his bags and then making his way toward catering for some food. He caught a glimpse of you on the way there, already sitting in hair and makeup, doing work on your laptop while you chit-chatted with the ladies.

He figured he’d leave you to it, hoping he’d run into you later in the night to talk more. He knew how important it was to make others feel welcomed, but it felt especially important to him that he could be someone you knew you could lean on, whether it was casual conversations or just talking about work.

“Where you off to? We’re all scheduled for a meeting with Paul.” Charlotte stopped him in the halls, going in the opposite direction of where all the talent was heading.

He scratched the back of his neck, pointing at her phone in her hand, “Was it an email? I didn’t see it on the itinerary.”

The blonde nodded, scrolling through her inbox. “Should’ve got sent to you this morning, but it doesn’t matter. It said all talent anyway.”

Seth nodded, walking alongside her, noting just how many people were headed in the same direction as Paul’s office. Usually they were all scheduled for meeting by group, but it seemed like it was an important one if Paul was calling for everyone on the same day at the same time.

As they squeezed into the office, some superstars found empty chairs while the rest stood against the walls, making space for those still arriving. The room buzzed with loud chatter, everyone speculating about the meeting’s purpose, hoping it wasn’t anything bad, like another round of roster splits.

Paul who sat at the head of the table, finally cleared his throat, silencing the room with an assertive presence that meant business.

“Okay everyone, let’s make this quick so you all can get out of here.” He rubbed his hands together, passing around papers that had the upcoming schedule for the next month.

“We’ve got some shows scattered across the east coast and mid-west. We’re prepping for SummerSlam, so things are going to start moving quicker and as we wrap up some storylines, we’re also going to be starting new ones.”

Many of the superstars were already well aware if they would be on the pay-per-view card or not, except Seth, who was still awaiting his opponent after he and Dean lost the tag team championships to Sheamus and Cesaro. They were originally going to have a rematch, but Dean ended up getting written into a different storyline with The Miz for the intercontinental championship.

“As you know my daughter joined us just a few days ago, but she has been watching and closely working alongside creative and producers in order to write a few scripts. Some of which will be getting played out in the coming weeks.”

Seth heard through the grapevine that some superstars already had meetings with you the following day after your debut to pitch the new storylines. Braun Strowman was one of the superstars to have a script written specifically for himself, and it was safe to say that everyone else was excited to see if they’d receive a script with your name on it too.

Your father was also greatly elated that you were taking the reins on helping him develop some talent—the pride evident in his voice and face as he spoke about you though you weren’t around to hear.

“And speaking about my daughter, I feel like this goes without saying, but just to make it abundantly clear, I think you should hear it from me.”

The tone in Paul’s voice suddenly shifted to something more serious, causing the superstars to deliberately fixate their sights on him.

“She’s new to this scene and to be quite frank she didn’t even want to step foot anywhere near the business, but she gave it a shot and while she’s still getting adjusted to the way things work around here, I have a good feeling she’s going to be the person taking over when I decide its time for me to step away…”

Everyone nodded along understanding that Paul’s time in charge might not be for long seeing as though he was getting older and he didn’t want to overstay his position of the head of creative knowing that it was best for a new perspective to be let in before things went stale.

Paul took a deep breath, the shift in his demeanor palpable as he transitioned from boss to protective father. His eyes scanned the room, settling on each superstar with a look that spoke volumes and caused most of them to squirm including Seth.

“Which is why I need to make myself crystal clear,” he began, his voice firm and unwavering. “My daughter is absolutely off-limits.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in despite him feeling like it should have been an automatic rule everyone should’ve been expected to follow without him saying it explicitly.

Seth found it a little hypocritical considering the nature of Paul and Stephanie’s relationship. Everyone knew they had gotten together despite Vince’s warning and everyone else tell them it was bad for business, yet here they were years later not only married but with four daughters to show for it.

But Seth also knew that mixing pleasure with business wasn’t always successful as theirs was—most times it was like playing a dangerous game, and he respected that aspect of it—plus, who would be crazy enough to go after the boss’s daughter, anyway?

“She’s a sweet girl,” he continued, his voice softening slightly trying not to get emotional when it came to you.

“And I’m not just saying that because she’s my kid. If anyone were to hurt her, especially when I’m the person signing their checks, I would hate to be the one to have to fire them too. Am I clear?”

Paul was anything other than threatening especially outside of the character he played up for fans, but it felt like the first time he showed the true colors that could come out if anyone dared to get on his bad side. There was a collective ‘yes’ that filled the room, nearly suffocating everyone with how thick the tension in the air was.

From the back of the room, Randy’s voice cut through the silence with a choked up laugh.

“I guess my dreams of calling you dad are finally crushed.”

Laughter calmed the room and everyone in it—of course Randy was the only one who could make a joke like that and live to see another day.

Paul chortled, pointing a finger in his direction. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head and settling down.

Just then, the door swung open, causing everyone to look in its direction.

You stumbled in, changed out of your casual clothing into a little black dress with your hair pinned up in curlers. Your eyes widened, forehead creasing with worry as you quickly shut the door and darted your eyes towards your dad, sputtering out an apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m late! I thought the meeting started at—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand and cutting you off. “You’re right on time, sweetheart. I just got them briefed on next month’s schedule.”

He picked up one of the printed papers, waving you over to sit in the empty seat next to him.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, smiling and waving to all the superstars as you made your way to the front of the room.

“Is there anything you guys talked about?” You speculated, brushing your hands against the fabric of your dress before you sat.

Everyone remained dead silent, shaking their heads realizing Paul had strategically given you a different time just so he could give all of them the word of warning without you present.

For a moment you caught eyes with Seth who stood near the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest and he quickly moved his eyes elsewhere, shaking his head like everyone else.

Your dad clicked his tongue, getting your attention. “No, just that and briefly about the storylines you had been working on.” He replied smoothly, covering the previous discussion without you knowing.

“Maybe you should formally introduce yourself, since they don’t know very much about you.”

He sat back in his chair, nodding for you to go ahead. For some reason, it was more nerve-racking to talk to all of them at once instead of the usual one-on-one conversations you had been having with them as the week went on.

“Oh, okay,” you muttered, nodding your head as you stood up, taking a deep breath.

“My apologies in advance for how I look right now. As you could tell, I am horrible with time management.” You bit your lip, miming at your head of curlers.

The room snickered, somewhat relaxing you seeing that they weren’t as intimidating and scary as they came off. They all understood how hectic the job could get, and some of them were still needed to change into gear, which made you feel like it was no big deal after all.

“As you know I’m Paul and Stephanie’s eldest daughter and I am currently serving as a freshman creative writer and backstage producer on the main roster. But before this, I had been writing storylines for NXT, the developmental brand, for about a year and a half. And before that, I was working in freelance writing after I graduated college.” You said, gaining a little more confidence the more you spoke.

“On screen I play according to my dad, a semi-heel and semi-face heiress to the legacy in which my mother’s side of the family forged and now has merged with father. And now that you’re all here, I just wanted to say thank you for welcoming me with open arms and giving me the opportunity to be a part of your world.” You pressed your hands together, bowing slightly towards them.

You caught a few impressed nods and smiles from the superstars, clearly unaware of your extensive experience and appreciating that you gave them their flowers despite you still being so new to the main roster.

“It’s been a huge deal for me that my father trusts me with creating stories, and I know it’s important that you, the performers who make it your own, feel connected to them, therefore I am always open to talking and hearing what we could do to make it better. So please do not feel intimidated by me at all—I’m seriously the least intimidating person around here, and I can’t wait to work with you all.”

The room filled with a round of applause that made you smile in relief as you sat back down after what felt like eternity with all eyes on you. And of course, like your eyes were trained to look in his direction, you couldn’t miss Seth wearing a tight lip grin and giving you a subtle thumbs up as if he knew you would be looking his way.

Your dad reached over, giving you a small pat on the back, displaying a proud smile.

“Well, that wraps it up. Let’s have a good show tonight, alright?”

Everyone slowly began to file out of your dad’s office, a few superstars sticking around to catch up with him, while some came up to you, indicating their excitement at having you on board. Seth waited until you wrapped up with some of them before approaching you to do the same.

“Good job,” Seth spoke genuinely, giving your arm a gentle tap, “Didn’t know you had so much experience.”

You laughed softly, feeling at ease with him around compared to everyone else.

“I didn’t want to bore you with my resume.” You shrugged.

Your father turned his attention to you both, a surprised look spreading across his face as he gestured between you both.

“You guys met already?”

You looked up at Seth, nodding with a silly grin before turning to your dad. “I actually ran into him on Monday before the show. I was totally klutz and bumped into him.” You confessed embarrassingly.

“Sounds just about right.” Your dad joked, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“She did deceive me a little bit,” Seth started, tipping his head towards you, “Left out that she’s the boss’s daughter.”

Your dad let out a snort, shaking his head knowing that you partly did so because you didn’t want to gloat, but mostly because you wanted to keep your debut a surprise for as long as possible.

“How are you feeling today?” Paul asked curiously, lacing his fingers together as he sat back into his chair.

You played with your fingers idly, smiling a little, “I think I’m getting the hang of it, but I still get nervous getting on live tv.” You admitted.

“Well, tonight’s good practice. You’ve got three short segments with some superstars, so they’ll help you through it.”

Alexa Bliss, Kevin Owens, and Roman Reigns.

You had gone over the script an abundant amount of times having your lines memorized off the top of your head.

Alexa, you had met down in NXT before she was drafted onto the main roster, the two of you becoming good acquaintances outside of the ring. When she found out you two would be having a segment together, she immediately shot you a text, gushing about how excited she was.

Kevin was introduced to you by your dad on Monday night. Him voicing his delight that you decided to come work for the company and all nice things said about the storylines you had forged in NXT prior. He still had a few friends down in developmental who bragged about the storylines you and Shawn were working on together and now that he finally had a face to your name, he was excited about what else you’d do on the main roster.

Roman was someone you watched consistently on TV. He was a part of the same faction Seth and Dean were in—The Shield. You hadn’t met him on Monday since he was on paternity leave, but tonight, having him back in action was the perfect opportunity to introduce yourself.

“Speaking of that,” you diverted your eyes back up to Seth who lingered at your side, “Do you know where Roman might be? I didn’t get the chance to talk to him one on one yet.”

Seth nodded, pointing his thumbs towards the door.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in catering. I’m heading there now if you want to come with.” He offered politely.

And you nodded thankfully, getting up to reach over and give your dad a small hug, “I’ll stop by before the show.”

“Don’t forget to get those out of your hair,” he reminded, chuckling along with Seth as you shook your head. “See you later, Seth,” He added, giving the wrestler a firm handshake before you were on your way.

The hallways were busy with crew members rolling in carts and transporting equipment before doors opened—a rush you were just starting to get used to it. You and Seth were practically shoulder to shoulder trying not to get in anyone’s way. Each time your hand brushed against his arm, you muttered a quiet apology, to which he hushed you, saying it was nothing to worry about.

As the haste in the hallway slowly dwindled, you glanced at him. “Thanks for saying those kinds of things. I really appreciate it.”

So far, Seth was the one superstar you had multiple interactions with and he had been pleasant each and every single time. You figured it was because he held a lot of respect for your dad, but another part of you knew it was just him being a good person.

He met your eyes, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, “I know how daunting it is, especially when you’re so new to the scene, but just know that everyone already thinks you’re killing it…me especially.” He bragged, gesturing to himself with a smirk.

Your cheeks rose with a smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, and it never seemed to leave your face after that.

Reaching catering, he held the door open for you, letting you through first. Renee and Charlotte had caught a glimpse and immediately waved at you, their eyes briefly widening when they saw Seth strolling in behind you. He said something to you, pointing towards Roman’s back at the same table where the rest of his friends sat.

“Yo, big dog!” He shouted, garnering Roman’s attention as the man looked over his shoulder.

Seth motioned to you then headed off to grab food while you walked up to the man. You immediately greeted him with a glowing smile and a small wave. He grinned, setting his fork down and sticking his hand out to shake yours.

“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself. I heard you and your wife just welcomed two new little ones—congratulations!” You bubbled, making him smile at the thoughtfulness.

Rising up out of his chair, he opening his arms and gave you a warm appreciative hug.

“Thanks, and it’s nice to meet you too.” He replied, before drawing away, “I saw what you did on Monday and man…the fans already love you.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think they’re still a little skeptical if I’m going to be more like my mom’s character or my dad’s.” You threw your hands up, making him chuckle.

Nearly forgetting, your eyes widened, and you snapped your fingers.

“And hey, if you want to change anything about our segment, just let me know. I’m always in my office and if I’m not there, I’m probably hiding from my dad’s personal assistant.”

He and the rest of the table cracked a laugh, aware that your father kept a close eye on you, especially after what they gathered from the meeting.

“I appreciate that. It’s always nice to know I can talk to you,” He replied earnestly, his statement showing his gratitude before taking his seat again to continue eating.

“Wanna sit?” Seth offered, returning with a plate of food and he pulled out the empty chair beside him for you to take. You nodded, thanking him with a smile as you took a seat.

“So you said that before NXT you were working as a freelance writer,” Renee spoke, leaning towards you across the table and you nodded. “Anything we know you from?”

You thought for a moment, shaking your head.

“To be honest, I don’t think so. I did a lot of screenwriting after college. Short films and mini projects that didn’t really take off, but then after that I got really into creative writing and launched a tiny little column in the local paper about fictional entertainment.”

“Wow, you really are a workhorse.” Dean complimented.

“You have to show us one of your short films someday,” Seth chimed in, chuckling when he saw embarrassment flush over your cheeks.

You shook your head vigorously, covering your face, making everyone laugh and shake their heads.

“It was mediocre at the very least. A lot of angst and tropey plot lines.”

Maybe it was you attempting to be humble or truly just wanting to save yourself the mess, but they all knew deep down that you had a vividly gifted mind. It already proved itself to be true with the experience you had, but more so in the fact that you took the time to make sure everyone in the locker-room knew you were approachable because the storylines meant just as much to you as it did to them.

Charlotte reached across the table, grazing your hand, “We’re all going out to dinner tonight. You should join us!”

She extended the invitation with a friendly smile, hoping you would take her up on it, seeing as though they all wanted to get to know you more.

“You sure?” You asked hesitantly, not wanting to impose.

“Yeah, come on,” Seth nudged you gently, flashing you a toothy grin, “The restaurant we’re going to is known for the best steak in the city and I heard they’ve got a killer dessert menu.” His voice had a teasing lilt, as if trying to entice you.

You pressed your lips together, shoulders caving in shyly until you finally nodded.

“Sure, why not” You gave in, the table hooting with a frenzy, making you smile wider.

“I just have to ask my driver to drop me off. Do you mind giving me the address?” You asked, looking towards Charlotte.

“You could ride with me and Seth after the show,” Roman suggested, jutting his chin over at his buddy who nodded in agreement.

“And we’re staying at the same hotel, so it’ll be no problem getting back.” Seth added, his eyes meeting yours in a reassuring gaze.

You nodded, smiling happily, “That’s perfect, thank you so much! Should I meet you guys in the parking garage after the show?”

They nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Great! I’m going to get these out of hair, but I’ll see you guys tonight!” You beamed, rising up and giving all of them a wave.

As you wandered away, you suddenly turned back on your heel, shooting Roman a playful point.

“And I’ll see you later for the segment!” You added eagerly, and he chuckled nodding as you went on your way.

By the time the main event match was wrapping up, gorilla was nearly empty. Just a few producers and your dad who hung back sticking around to congratulate Kevin and Roman.

You had been sitting in gorilla after your three segments had wrapped, needing a change in scenery while you worked through your final script and took some producer notes as your dad worked.

Soon enough Roman’s music hit, signaling the end of the show. The hard camera continued rolling for a few more seconds until your dad spoke through the headsets to cut, and soon the two superstars began making their way up the ramp.

You immediately stood up, walking over to the curtain to greet them, watching as they shook each other’s hand.

“Amazing match, you two,” you applauded.

The two men laughed when you stuck your arm out offering them a first bump, not wanting to give them a proper hug due to the sweat and they met your knuckles in a friendly manner.

Roman pointed at you, still catching his breath as a stage hand passed him a bottle of water.

“Parking garage, don’t forget.” He spoke and then chugged the liquid.

You nodded, thanking him for reminding you, “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up here.”

He went over to your father and the rest of the producers, shaking their hands before heading to the locker room to catch a shower and gather his things for the road. You said goodnight to all that were leaving, thanking them for their kind words regarding your segment and all the work you had been doing so far.

Your dad took off his headsets, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“Where you headed off to?” He wondered, watching you collect your laptop and notebook from the monitor desks.

“Charlotte invited me out to dinner with a few people and I’m gonna catch a ride with Roman and Seth there.” You announced cheerfully, holding your things against your chest.

He smiled lovingly, happy to see that they were making an effort to make you feel extra welcomed.

“That’s nice of them. Just make sure you get back to the hotel alright. We have an early flight in the morning.”

“Of course, dad.” You nodded, going to give him a hug, “And if you see Eddie, tell him I said thank you for sending my stuff over to my suite.” You spoke against him.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to cheek forehead. “Shoot me a text when you turn in. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

You quickly made a pit stop at your office to tidy up the space and grab the rest of your belongings, checking that you had everything before the arena locked up for the night. Anticipating the brisk cold of the night, you pulled on your black oversized blazer, giving the room one last look over before shutting the door and walking towards the back entrance where the parking garage was located.

You looked around, stepping further until you spotted Roman and Seth loading up the trunk of their rental with their bags while Charlotte, Renee, and Dean lingered against the rental beside them, making small talk while waiting for you.

Your heels clacked against the concrete, catching their attention.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you chirped, pausing near the boys who finished up sliding in their luggage and bags.

Seth frowned, looking down and around you.

“Where’s your stuff?” He wondered, pointing to the small space he reserved for your things.

You waved your hand off in the air, “Eddie sent it over to my suite earlier in the night. Didn’t want you guys doing extra arm work.”

Roman tsked, patted his biceps and flexing them dramatically, “Don’t worry, baby girl, these puppies can lift anything.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully until Dean whistled, tossing his keys between his palms.

“Let’s get this show on the road. I want my steak pronto.” He said, rubbing his tummy.

You all began getting into your respective cars. Seth taking the liberty of motioning you to follow him, holding open the backdoor for you, “After you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured softly, sliding in and buckling your seatbelt.

He shut your door gently, walking around to the driver’s seat, getting the car started while Roman got comfortable in the passenger. The radio was on low, and Seth deliberately toggled with the climate control, turning on the heating for the backseat, knowing you were a bit chilly now that you sported a jacket over your dress.

He signalled for Dean to go first, waiting as the other car reversed out of the stall, and Seth followed behind en route to the restaurant that was just a few more minutes into the city.

Roman cleared his throat, briefly looking back at you. “How did you feel about your segments?”

You shifted in your seat, sitting up a tad. “It actually went better than I thought! It’s just the thought of the camera being there and the anticipation of going live that gets me all nervous.”

They both understood what you meant, and to be fair they had a bit of an advantage when they were first starting out. Seth, Roman, and Dean having each other to lean on during segments, matches, and promos which made the whole thing feel less intimidating and prepared them for when they became singles competitors.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, the crowd is already receptive to you and you have good chemistry with everyone you’ve worked with so far.” Seth said kindly, eyes looking at you in the rearview, catching a smile that spread across your face even in the dingy lighting of the car.

The rest of the drive was full of chitchat—Roman gushing over his kids, pride sweltering as he spoke about them and how much he missed them while on the road. Seth expressed the same feelings, except regarding his adorable yorkie named Kevin who he had since his NXT days.

You had a little bit of both—three little sisters whom you were extremely close with, and like a second mother figure to them, and childhood dogs who snuggled you each time you came to visit home.

When you all arrived, Seth the ever gentleman he was, opened your door, helping you out before you all walked in. The restaurant was rustic yet sleek, nothing too fancy or out of the ordinary, which was charming for a nice spot in the city. The heavy wooden doors gave way to the space adorned with marble countertops and wooden panelling that complimented the setting.

“You guys can follow me…” the hostess instructed, guiding your group towards the back of the restaurant in a secluded corner perfect for all seven of you.

Everyone picked their seats—Dean and Renee sitting on one side along with Charlotte. Roman sat at the head of the table and you and Seth sat directly across from the trio, with you on the tail end.

He pulled out the chair for you, nodding his head as you smiled and bowed slightly at the gesture. “Why thank you,” you giggled, taking a seat as he pushed the chair in slightly and took the empty adjacent to Roman.

The hostess got you all started with some menus, letting you all browse over it before she would come back and get your orders. You flipped through the laminated pages, picking two items just in case they were out of the other.

You peered over at Seth who was doing the same until you nudged your elbow gently into his, gaining his attention as he perked up and nodded towards you.

“What are you getting?”

“A medium rare tomahawk, potatoes, and a water,” He said without skipping a beat or taking another look at the menu, “I already knew what I was gonna get.”

The act alone made you giggle, shaking your head at him as he too broke out into a laugh, watching you fold up your menu as you settled down.

“So you were just trying to fit in the whole time?” You bantered, narrowing your eyes at him.

He rubbed his hands over his chest, nodding, “I didn’t want to be the only one not looking at the menu.” He whispered, eyes shifting to everyone else who was still deciding what they were going to get.

You sat back, folding your arms across your chest, shifting an inch closer to him, “I probably won’t get anything too fancy, but I am definitely getting some red wine…you’re not having a beer?”

He shook his head, mimicking your action, his shoulder pressed against your arm. “I am transporting precious cargo and I would hate for you to suffer even a scratch.”

You felt warm all over, trying to suppress another smile that always seemed to be incessantly glued to your face whenever Seth said something nice to you. And you failed to conceal it again, letting your cheeks rise.

“I appreciate your chivalry.” You spoke quietly enough for just him to hear.

“You’re getting dessert after too, right?” He insisted, pointing at the image of a chocolate lava cake that he was most certainly talking up earlier in the night.

You pursed your lips, not knowing if you could stomach it by yourself. “Wanna split it?”

He smirked, nodding, “Yeah sure, but just letting you know, I am going to ask for a scoop of vanilla ice cream over top.”

“Sounds divine.” You wiggled your brows, making him chuckle.

Dinner was full of laughter, with food and drinks served on the side. It had been a while since you had been around people who made you laugh so much without even trying too hard. All of them were so lively, cracking jokes left and right and somehow still being able to carry a casual conversation without missing a beat.

You felt safe around all of them, a kind of camaraderie that didn’t make you feel as if you were just solely the boss’s daughter, but rather a friend in the making through your new venture in life. Good things took time, and you knew the friendships you were going to make with all of them was totally worth it.

“No, they did not!” Renee and Charlotte stared at you wide eyed, the rest of the table bursting out into laughs while you nodded your head instantaneously and rested your palms on the tabletop, leaning towards them.

“I swear to god, I’m not making this up!” You drew an x over your heart, holding your palms in the air.

“Maybe I pissed the guy off for turning him down, but there I was getting ready to drive to class and that piece of shit spray painted “suck it!” all over my car!” You exclaimed, disturbed, but not for long, as you threw your head back and laughed uncontrollably.

The girls followed suit, hunching over the table, reaching for your arms and clinging to you while you all laughed like little kids. You had no clue how you got to talking about your terrible college experience with boys, but somehow you got there, and everyone was dumbfounded that one guy you turned down would go all Degeneration X on you.

“Your parents must have been pissed, right?” Dean sought, settling down with a stiffled laugh.

Your eyes widened as you nodded, sipping on your wine before you replied.

“Oh, they were livid once they first found out! But eventually when it passed, and I got it painted over, we just couldn’t stop laughing because it was just so absurd.”

Roman shook his head, staring at you in amazement.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know about you this entire time. Your parents really kept you out of the limelight, huh?”

You nodded, “That, and the fact that having a baby out of wedlock really wasn’t something my parents wanted out at the time—mostly because of my grandpa Vince.”

They all winced, grinning guiltily knowing of course Vince of all people was the one who wanted to keep his daughter’s premarital pregnancy under wraps. Thankfully, now it wasn’t such a big deal and you and your parents found it slightly comical.

“What’s funny is that I swore I saw you running up and down the arenas back when I was like 10 and you were like 3?” Charlotte recalled, looking over at you puzzled.

You nodded, gesturing up at your hair. “If my hair was in pigtails and I sported a gigantic DX shirt as a dress, then yes. That was totally me causing trouble in the corridors.”

Seth peered at you, watching you closely. “How come you didn’t want to get into the business sooner?”

You sighed heavily, shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it was too much. Too much business. Too much drama. Too many feelings getting hurt, especially when family is involved.” You pointed out to which everyone understood.

“How’d your dad convince you?” He added, knowing it must have not been so easy.

You set your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your first as you stared at him ardently.

“I had a feeling my dad was going to take over the company, and at that time I wasn’t doing a lot, so when he came to me and pitched the idea, I was a teeny bit hesitant, but he promised me I could have all the creative freedom I wanted. So long as I didn’t erase history or disregarded any talent’s input.”

Seth nodded along, listening to you express your relationship with the company and most importantly your dad. It was clear that you had no intentions of getting involved because to be fair you loved what you did on your own, but you took a risk and fell in love with writing storylines that were refreshing for the product and the new era of television they were in.

Many of the superstars, including Seth were thrilled when it was announced that Paul was taking over, but adding you into the mix made everything feel a little different in the best way possible. Usually writers and producers pushed back against their ideas and suggestions, but you exhibited a profound way of keeping and getting them involved in the product behind the scenes in a way that many never got to chance to have.

He knew, just as well as everyone else that you were going to leave your mark. The way you talked about your craft and the sincerity that leaked with every word had him enthralled—that was until Dean broke up the stare he had on you.

“We better cross our fingers we get a script written by you.” Dean raised his glass, breaking the silence.

You blinked slowly, the warmth still lingering in the air between you and Seth as you shifted your eyes to the rest of your friends lifting their glasses to you.

“To the Levesque Era,” Seth declared, following suit and nodding for you to pick up your wine glass.

“And new beginnings,” you continued, your voice soft but sanguine, the rim of your glass clinking with his lightly as you repeated the sentiment with everyone else.

As promised, you and Seth shared a chocolate molten lava cake topped with vanilla bean ice cream. The two of you sliding the plate between each other, sitting back comfortably as you listened to everyone catch you up on what they were up to in their lives outside the company.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the hostess. You smiled at her, straightening up as she approached. Subtly, you handed her your card, and she nodded, promising to be back with the receipt.

As she walked away and you discreetly tucked your wallet back into your purse, Seth leaned in over your shoulder, wondering what you were up to.

“What did you just do?” He asked, his mouth still full, staring at you with a mix of suspicion and amusement.

You looked back at him, slowly relaxing back as you bit your lip and tried to pretend you didn’t hear him the first time.

“What do you mean?” you raised your brow at him.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Did you just pay? I told you it was on us,” He protested, eyes widening in playful disbelief.

“Oh hey c’mon, that’s cheating.” Roman chimed in, pointing at you.

You held your hands up in defense, a smirk playing on your lips. “No, seriously, it’s on me. You guys invited me out, and it’s the least I could do.”

“Next time we’re baring you from even sticking your hand in your purse,” Renee threatened, sticking her hand out for you to shake on it.

Giggling, you nodded as you clasped her hand. “You have my word.”

You let go, all of you beginning to wrap up and get ready to head out for the night.

Seth, still shaking his head, leaned closer, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Just trying to make a good impression.” You argued with a playful shrug.

“Well, you’re definitely succeeding,” he retorted, voice true despite the teasing tone that came along with it.

The night winded down perfectly, zero traffic heading back to the hotel and sleepiness just on the precipice of settling behind your eyes. You, Seth, and Roman said goodnight to three after you and the girls exchanged phone numbers while the men got their bags and suitcases unloaded from the trunks.

“What floor?” Roman ordered, looking over towards you and Seth entering the elevator.

“Six,” you and Seth said in unison, turning to each other with matching looks of surprise and a shared laugh. Roman chuckled as he pressed the buttons for both floors.

The elevator hummed quietly as it ascended, a comfortable silence settling over the three of you after the night of laughter and conversations you had. When it dinged on Roman’s floor, he reached around, pulling you into a small hug.

“Thanks again for dinner.”

“Of course! You have a good night.” You replied warmly, returning the hug and stepping back. Roman and Seth exchanged a firm handshake, a silent nod of understanding between them before Roman exited the elevator.

As the doors closed, and continued its ascension to the sixth floor, Seth turned to you with a gentle smile. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

You nodded without a second thought, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

“I’d like that.”

The hallway was quiet and shadowy, the carpeted floors muffling your footsteps and rolling of his suitcase as you walked sided by side. Your room was at the end of the corridor, just a few doors away from him. Stopping in front of your door, you searched your bag for the keycard.

“Thanks again for tonight.” He kept his eyes on you, catching the way you looked up past your lashes, and shook your head with a small smile.

“It’s the least I could do, and thank you for making me feel welcomed. It really means a lot to me.” You said, finally fishing the key out of your bag.

“Any chance I can treat you for coffee in the morning?” He proposed politely, wanting to return the gesture.

But you pouted wistfully, shaking your head and feeling genuinely bummed.

“I’ve actually got an early flight. It’s my little sister’s birthday and me and my dad are surprising her.” You apologized, wishing your fight was later in the day.

Seth nodded understandingly, not letting his disappointment show past his smile. “That’s alright. Tell her I said happy birthday.”

You grinned, nodding, “Of course! And I’ll definitely take you up on that coffee date when I get back.” You promised, eyes twinkling with anticipating for it.

“Looking forward to it,” he breathed, his gaze lingering on you as you slid the key into your door, turning the handle.

You gave him one last smile, feeling just a tad reluctant to end the night despite your tiredness.

“Night, Seth.”

“Night sweetheart.” He said quietly, watching as you stepped inside and offered him one last wave before shutting the door.

And so he walked back a few doors down, looking down your way one last time, already hoping for the next time he’d see you again.

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

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter two of icsy!!! i was aiming to do something domestic and fun, and i thought why not dinner with the whole crew and a side of seth and reader flirting like idiots the whole time??? let me know what you guys think and i cannot wait for you to read the next chapter (hehehe it's already one of my faves <3).

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myokk · 5 months ago

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WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @okeydokeylackey !!!! I LOVED YOUR SNIPPET & everyone should DEFINITELY check out your art/writing (I know I always love seeing it on my dash🥹🫶)

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

***DISCLAIMER THESE ARE ALL TYPED UP STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND UNEDITED BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH***

Oneshot:

A beetle slowly makes its way across Sebastian Sallow’s desk.

The classroom is silent - save for the scratching of quills furiously calculating the Arithmatic probability of who will be the next Minister and the quiet murmur of his professor as she helps Hobhouse (how did he even get into the N.E.W.T. level?) - and Sebastian is going absolutely mad.

He counts how many seconds it takes for the beetle to reach his abandoned quill (fifteen). But, when it takes its seventh step after making it over the quill (an auspicious sign), Sebastian slams his hand down on top of it.

The loud noise echoes through the silent classroom and Sebastian hears her snickering coming from behind him as the whole class turns to see what has happened. His ears turn red, he wishes he could jinx her somehow, and yet he is terribly curious to see what she has sent him this time. Sebastian hopes that everyone has gone back to their equations and stops staring at him, because now that it’s in his hands, his fingers are itching to open it. His hands eagerly - shamefully eager, if you ask him - unravel the note he’s crumpled up in his hands - almost a shame that he destroyed the beetle, it was one of her better creations - and Sebastian soon curses his haste.

His ears would be an even deeper shade of red were his blood not currently draining to a different part of his body. Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he continues reading the note, his eyes flying across the tiny note once, twice, three times before he crumples it up and adds it to the graveyard of the other notes she has been sending him all day. The words fuck my soaking cunt flash up at him and he adjusts his schoolbag so that if anyone walks past and looks into it, they won’t suspect a thing.

You see, this has been going on all day. Sebastian knew that when his seventh year started, it was going to the culmination of their academic rivalry, but he never expected this. That witch has made taunting him her personal vendetta, and it’s working.

Sebastian can’t get her out of his mind.

FIC - CHAPTER 25: (honestly I might delete this scene or save it for later)

She wanted him to hate her.

Hatred wasn’t what she saw in his eyes now, though.

Almost as if she were watching herself from afar, not in control of her body, Eloise came to a stop in front of Sebastian and looked down at him. The green light was highlighting his face and he looked ethereal, otherworldly. She watched her hand reach out and touch his cheek - hesitant, unsure - and when he didn’t jerk his head away as she expected - as she deserved - she moved to sit down next to him in the tiny space. Her knees bumped into his just like their noses bumped against each other as she moved her face towards his. Still, he didn’t move away.

She felt his warm breath fan across her lips. Maybe they stayed like that, lips not-quite-touching, for an eternity; maybe it was only a second. Eloise was only aware of Sebastian’s intoxicating presence, of the way his breath hitched when she finally bridged the gap between them, of the way her heart surrendered itself to him. This kiss was nothing like what they had shared before. It was hesitant, soft, sweet. His hands came up to her face, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss.

Eloise didn’t know what had gotten into her - she was supposed to be avoiding Sebastian, hating him, and yet she couldn’t pull herself out of his embrace. She was melting into his touch, his thumbs brushing themselves down her cheeks, her neck, fingers going through her hair, over and over as if to reassure himself of her presence, his lips moving languidly against hers. Eloise sighed into his mouth, almost-smiling but not-quite: she was nervous, as complicit as he was in this kiss, maybe even more, considering she had been the one to reach out first. But then -

Sebastian pulled away from her, puzzled, his hands moving back to cup Eloise’s face. He was saying something, rough thumbs gently brushing away the thick tears rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying?

NO PRESSURE TAGS: @holdmymallowsweet @writing-intheundercroft @morelikeravenbore @sav-less @gothic-lottie @kay9leo @celestial--sapphic @libellule-ao3 @anomalyaly AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO IT IM SERIOUS !!!!!!!!! I CAN NEVER THINK OF WHO TO TAG & I WOULD LOVE TO SEE LITTLE EXCERPTS OF YOUR WRITING🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

#I literally just zone out and blab and then later on I have to edit it and wrestle these words into making sense😭😭😭#but here a tiny bit of what I’ve been working on lately💓💓💓#maybe it’s interesting maybe not😆#& I don’t talk with many writers on here so if you want to do it seriously🥰🥰🥰 consider yourself tagged #i also want to make the oneshot kind of math themed bc a) I have a math degree and b) it’s arithmancy class duh #but I’ll just abandon that whole thought soon😆#hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy

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madhatterbri · 1 month ago

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Bully | A.S.

Summary: Sooooo. This promo has been living rent-free in my head since I’ve seen it. Making an absolute mess of my brain. And he just sounds like the cocky bully that thinks he runs everything. And maybe he’s speaking to someone who despises him on the surface, but deep down finds him really hot even though she refuses to admit it. Maybe you can do something with that? Call it a birthday gift, maybe? Please? 18+.

Requested by: @letsgivethisonemoreshot

Author's Note: Happy birthday, babe. I love you. 🫂❤️ Thanks for ensuring that I could never be around this man.... ever. 😂🤣 Hope he signs our fire trucks one day.

Alex Shelley Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @hodgepodge-musings @cowboywritersworld @magicalbuttertarts @letsgivethisonemoreshot @blackwingedmisanthrope

The slap heard around the world happened in the middle of a wrestling ring. The roar of the crowd muffled by the sound of your heartbeat. Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the result of your actions before you.

Alex Shelley, the man that you hated, despised, loathed, desperately wanted to fuck, was on all fours before you. His hand held his recently slapped cheek as he stared at the mat. Anger coarsed through his veins. You took a step back in fear. You were going to get it now.

The wrestler stood up quickly and turned to you. His hazel eyes glared daggers. Fists balled up as if he was going to punch the next person he saw. Unfortunately, that person happened to be you. He took a step towards you as you took another back.

After a couple more steps backward, you felt the wrestling ring ropes press into your back. A cruel reminder that you were trapped in the ring with the man that despised you. He smirked once he noticed your predicament. You shook your head at him. Alex had to have some morals in him.

"You should have thought about that before you slapped me, sweetie. That wasn't very nice."

When he reached out to grab you, Alex was speared by one of your clients. Your savior advised you to run, and so you did. In a flash, you rolled under the ropes and towards the ramp. You didn't dare look back. You were safe, for now.

The drive to the hotel was a blur. All of your thoughts were consumed by the way he looked at you. The smirk on his stupid, handsome face once he thought he could pounce you. A mixture of hate and something other emotion in his eyes. You needed something to get your mind off Alex Shelley.

Your friends invited you to a night of drinking at the hotel bar. Alcohol was the last thing you should be consuming. Alex was already in your head, and alcohol would not be a good mixture. The pool and gym were closed, leaving you to be grounded in your room. All there was to do was shower and watch anything that caught your interest on the television.

The shower was a long one. Your muscles relax under the shower's stream. The hot water steamed the bathroom mirrors. You dressed in a simple nightgown. The thoughts of Alex started to taper away, but you knew he would find his way in your dreams like so many nights before. For good measure, you turned on your television to distract you. A few minutes later, you hear a knock on your door.

One of your self-proclaimed weaknesses was never taking your safety seriously. You never looked through the peephole. The floor was usually just filled with wrestlers. The wrestlers often hung out in each other's rooms after work. Besides, you had a run-in with Shelley earlier. One of your friends was probably here to check on you. You didn't realize how wrong you were when you opened the door. Standing before you was Alex Shelley.

Your heart nearly pounded out of your chest. The man you had been avoiding for hours now stood at your door like everything was fine. The first thought was to slam the door in his face. As if he had read your mind, he reached out and pressed his hand against the door.

"Can I come in?"

You didn't have a choice. Before you could answer, your worst enemy stepped inside your hotel room. His hand slid against the door in case you tried to slam it shut on him. You found yourself trapped between him and the wall. The king of the independents closed the door behind him and locked it. The sound of the lock made you jump slightly. You shook your head, not quite believing your bad luck.

"You know I wanted to talk to you after the show, but you ran out so quickly. This is probably better, anyway. No one wandering around to interrupt us."

The painful reminder that no one would save you made you gulp. He was right. The majority of the wrestlers were downstairs at the hotel bar. Constant travel and lack of sleep made them immune to waking up to loud noises. You were all alone. Alone with Alex Shelley.

For the first time in your managing career, you thought to apologize for your actions. Alex was never one to deserve an apology. The cocky bastard deserved the previous slap and another slap and possibly one hundred for good measure.

"Awfully quiet tonight, princess. Cat got your tongue?" He asked in a condescending tone.

Your eyes shot up to look at him. "My personal tormentor won't take a night off. It's tragic."

Alex furrowed his eyebrows and placed his hand over his heart. "You wound me. I am simply trying to engage in a friendly conversation to have a healthier work relationship with my co-worker."

You laughed at the ridiculous notion. A healthier work environment between the both of you would never happen. It was hard to believe that neither of you had killed each other yet. "Alex Shelley? Friendly? If this is friendly, I'd hate to see jerk Shelley."

"Oh, sweetheart." He tipped your chin up to look at him. The same intensity in his hazel eyes lingered. You swore your skin burned where he touched you. "I'm a man of many talents. If I were to show you, you'd be left speechless."

"In your dreams, Shelley."

"Every night."

You felt your cheeks flush. An annoyingly high amount of times this man had appeared in your dreams. He wasn't commenting on that, of course, but this man seemed to always be one step ahead of you. Always seemed to know what you were thinking or feeling. You slapped his hand away. "Isn't there someone, anyone else for you to bother?"

He tilted his head to the side and tapped his chin as if he were in deep thought. He finally stopped. "Nope, none, not when I'm playing a game right here and winning."

"And what game is that?"

"Why are you asking me when you started it? Always running to your friends whenever I'm around. At first, I thought you were genuinely scared of me until tonight. You had no reason to touch me; admit it, you want this. You want me."

"I don't even want to imagine what this is, but I can assure you if it's from you, I don't want 'it' or you," you spoke. Your finger waved between the two of you.

"You haven't even bothered trying to kick me out again, sweetie."

Before you could push him towards the door, he grabbed your wrists. Your elbows were bent away from your head. He pressed your wrists flat against the wall. His face was close to yours.

"I think you like this, the little games we play. You get my attention this way. That is why you are being my good girl right now," he whispered by your cheek. His thumbs brushed over the veins on your wrists. The touch was slow and deliberate. A shiver ran down your spine.

You rolled your eyes. "Get over yourself, Shelley. Don't flatter yourself. I spent all my energy giving you a slap that you had a long time coming and I am tired."

"That wasn't very nice," he noted. His lips curled into a smirk. "But I will be the bigger person here and forgive you for your lapse of judgment."

"Good, now let go of me this instant," you snapped.

"And if I don't?" He asked. His head cocked to the side. "No one is going to save you."

Alex decided to show you just how dire your situation was. He called for your friends to come save you. Even asking when they were coming here to help you. His hazel eyes stared into yours the entire time. The only sound came from the television. This was all a sick little game to him. A game he reveled in playing with you.

"I am afraid that I will have to start charging rent since you seem to be really cozy in occupying my personal space."

"Well, sweetheart, I really like the view."

Your stomach twisted as his words hung in the air. All you wanted to do was fight back, to tell him to fuck off. The truth was you were tired of this. Tired of the same old song and dance with your biggest rival. Tired that your body betrayed you every time you saw him walk in wherever you happened to be.

Alex quickly noticed the hesitation. ''You're starting to lose some of that steam again, sweetheart."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Despite your cracking, he was enjoying witnessing this. All your reservations and walls built around him picked apart in the matter of minutes.

His eyes flickered to your lips before looking back into your eyes. There was something different in them, something you had never seen before. A want or a need.

"Say that you want me to leave, and I will."

Here was your opening to rid this man once and for all. Every time you opened your mouth, no words came out. Your body didn't move to slap him away. The biggest realization came when you felt his grasp on your wrists loosen. You could have moved away, but you didn't. You were right where he wanted you.

You gulped. "You haven't won this yet."

"Don't you see? I already have. Why keep fighting this?"

In a blink of an eye, his lips were on yours. The kiss was firm and insistent, just as he was. His hands slid to your waist to pull you flush against him. Embarrassingly enough, your hands remained by your head. Your skin burned, and his touch still lingered on you. You melted in the kiss. Your brain racked itself in wondering the reasoning behind allowing this to happen. Alex smirked against your lips. He knew he had won, but he wanted more.

After coming to your senses, you pulled away. "You are such a jerk, and I hate you because you think you have honestly won."

He chuckled. "Is that why you kept your hands up for me like a good girl?"

His compliment shot something through you that you had never felt before. Good girl. Any other man would get a slap to the face, but not Alex. The very man that always woke something inside of you. No matter how hard you tried to fight it.

"And do you know what happens to good girls? Do you know what I do to good girls?"

A weak no slipped past your lips.

"They get rewarded," he told you. The moment he thrusts his hips into you, you let out an involuntary moan. Here he was, the man of your greatest discontempt, and he was hard for you. Admittedly, you were wet for him. His lips met yours again. This time, you were too hungry to let him get away. Your hands wrapped around his neck. He pulled away slightly, much to your dismay. He noticed the flicker of fear in your eyes that he would be leaving you. "Do you want me to give you your reward?"

"Please," you breathed.

Piece by piece, articles of clothing are thrown off to be long forgotten on the ground. He grabbed your hand and led you to the bed. The back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to fall on the bed. You started to take in the moment. Alex Shelley, the cockiest, sexiest jerk in the world, was naked in front of you. Nothing else mattered anymore. The floodgates of the sexual tension between the two of you had opened. Nothing would stop it now.

A trail of kisses traveled from your neck down to your breasts. His lips latch onto your nipple. You gasped and panted. Satisfied with his work, he moved on to your next breast. You pulled his hair a little rougher than you expected. He hissed. This was great but not what you wanted. You wanted him; you needed him. You needed him between your legs using his tongue, fingers, dick, anything.

Alex lowered himself over you. His forearms pressed into the mattress by your head. You were his. His for God knows how long that night. He may never get this chance again, but he would enjoy it. Enjoy every whimper and moan that kept him up at night when he thought of you. Revel in the feel of you tight and wet around him, which made him wake up hard in the morning. Whenever he jerked off to you, he wouldn't have to guess what you sounded like. He was going to remember this night forever.

You felt the tips of his fingers suddenly slide down your stomach. Your legs opened wider, anticipating he would know what you needed without asking. The words simply would never be spoken by you. Once his thumb rubbed your sensitive bundles of nerves, you saw stars. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you and curled. A steady pace picked up as your hips thrust to meet his fingers pumping inside of you.

He smiled against your breasts and looked at you. "If I had known you were this wet I would have wrapped your legs around my waist and fucked you against the wall."

"I feel like I should apologize for making you wait so long for me," he chuckled. The wrestler licked his fingers that were just inside of you while looking in your eyes. Each finger slipped into his mouth and was removed with a pop sound. "I know you liked it, sweetie, and I have the proof. I want to hear you."

His long fingers continued to work you. A couple of times, they opened in a scissor-like fashion to prepare you for him. The build-up to your orgasm made you blush. Alex wasn't even inside of you yet.

Your body clung to his fingers, and he saw his moment to push you over the edge. You called out his name as you came on his fingers. Your body heaved as you stared at the white ceiling above you. Thoughts swirled in your mind. Alex Shelley had just seen one of your most vulnerable moments.

"Alex," you started.

"Tell me what you want, no, need me to do to this body, baby."

His hands slid up your sides before sliding back down.

He smirked at you. "No more Shelley then? I like the way you say my name. Say it again."

"Fuck you," you breathed.

"Technically, I am going to be fucking you if you are a good girl and do my simple request."

The thought of telling this man to use your body was outrageous. This had already gone on long enough, right? He had you right where he wanted you, yet he still wanted you to swallow your pride. When he didn't budge, you knew you had to play his little game. "I need you inside me, Alex, please."

You shook your head. Tears begged to slide down the side of your face in frustration. He was stalling and enjoying your discomfort. Alex had let you finish once, and he could simply get you going and leave you like this. Nothing would ever make you feel like this again. Just the mere thought that he would be inside of you again made you wet. "Alex, please."

Alex rubbed himself between your folds. The tip of his dick played with your entrance. A couple of times, he slipped his head inside of you just to pull out. Your pleas and cries of anguish turned him on even more. After what felt like an eternity, he thrust inside of you.

He hit every angle that sent you closer to your second release. You could have sworn that he thought about this more than he would ever admit. You arched your back as he thrust inside of you. Hands gripped the sheets below you roughly. Calls of his name filled the hotel room. No man would ever make you feel like this again. The hatred, the passion made this the best fuck you ever had.

When he moved your knees towards your chest, his dick pushed inside of you deeper. He slowed his pace as he looked between your legs. He watched as he disappeared and reappeared out of you. Alex wanted this memory burned inside his skull forever. There was no telling if this would happen again. His attention turned to your face.

Your head was turned to the side. Eyes closed, lips parted, you called his name and cursed. Your pleasure was coming from him. This was all his doing, and no one could take that from him. Satisfied that he would live with this memory forever, he picked up his pace. The sound of skin-on-skin contact filled the room.

You were on the edge of another orgasm, and you know he is, too. His thrusts became sloppier as time went on. Your voice was barely recognizable from everything he managed to pull out of you. You screamed his name one last time before unraveling around him. Alex followed close behind.

You stared at the ceiling while catching your breath. His gaze lingered on you to see your reaction on what just transpired. The worst part was that no one would be shocked this happened. The locker room always told the two of you to just fuck and get it out of your system. Now that you had, what was next?

He laid down next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close. His eyes were half-closed as he stared into yours. Neither of you was sure what tomorrow would bring, but neither of you would forget this night.

When he was ready, he slipped out of you. The wrestler disappeared to your hotel bathroom and came back with a washcloth and a glass of water. Alex placed the cup on the nightstand. You sit up to get the washcloth, but he stops you.

You lay back down on the bed. He pays special attention as he cleans you up. The man is being gentle and sweet. You swear you never thought you would see this side of Alex.

#fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #alex shelley oneshot #alex shelley fanfiction #alex shelley fanfic #alex shelley #alex shelley x you

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punker-topia · 2 months ago

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forever your valentine

(cm punk/drew mcintyre)

just a quick drabble inspired by @fantasticalleigh's recently shared valentine's day punkintyre art (a very, very beautiful work)

tags: fluffy, valentine's day, explicit sexual content, teasing

matches with cm punk always get way too intense — drew should know that by now. they’ve been wrestling with each other almost every week, meeting each other with nasty insults for the camera, getting under each other’s skin in a way that quickly results in a brawl. it tends to get more physical between the two than with any other wrestler — maybe it’s because they have history. maybe it’s because they know each other’s deepest weaknesses, and it’s way too easy to rub salt and vinegar onto each other’s wounds.

drew aches everywhere, and he’s sure that his lower lip is split, but he can’t be too bothered to look too much into it now. he stares at himself in the mirror of the bathroom, all fogged up due to the steam of the shower he just took to relax his muscles, and pushes his hair back. He chuckles for a second, thinking, what a nice valentine’s day gift that bastard gave me—a fucking beating.

and said bastard is just outside, laying on his back on drew’s bed and tapping his feet on the ground after taking a shower in his own hotel room, because punk needed too to get rid of the blood staining his skin and the dull ache in his arms and legs. he’s so fucking bruised — drew’s own doing. it always is.

when the door of the bathroom finally opens, no man is surprised to see each other, but they share a smile. punk props himself up on his elbows, watching drew take slow steps towards him on the bed, both with smirks on their lips.

“hey, big guy,” punk says, watching drew’s form. he a strong, strong, big man, so attractive with his long black hair and eyes the color of the ocean, so damn manly with his black beard and a constant teasing look on his face, like he’s challenging every single person that dares to look in his direction.

right now, with only a towel around his hips and the water dripping down his hairy chest, punk absolutely eats drew up with his eyes, and he’s not shy about it.

“my eyes are up here, you pervert,” drew teases, already feeling a familiar heat licking at his loins when he notices punk wearing, once again, one of those damned tight pants of his, the jeans leaving nothing for imagination when he looks at punk’s strong thighs. punk quickly notices it, eyebrows arching.

“my eyes are up here too, but i can see you mentally undressing me right now and i’m not complaining about it,” punk reasons, and drew laughs. stepping closer to the bed, drew’s pleased when punk parts his legs to allow drew to fit between them. drew, then, leans down, pressing his palms on the bed, and when their faces are close, he can see punk’s eyes on his lips, anticipating the kiss that drew doesn’t have the heart to deny him.

the kiss is short and simple, but full of meaning. it’s the first time they’ve been able to be alone today, and it’s special, because they’ve had a brutal match and it’s valentine’s day. they long to spend some time with each other.

it takes a long time for them to pull away from each other. drew bites punk’s lower lip; punk’s hand goes to drew’s wet, soft hair when their tongues finally meet. they play with each other’s mouth without the intention to tease, but simply because they missed having each other like this, in a moment made for them and them only, not for the cameras or for the whole world to see.

when they finally pull apart, it’s with a smack that echoes through the bedroom. punk licks his lips, tasting the remnants of drew’s saliva on them. “hi,” drew says almost shyly, and punk thinks it’s fucking cute to see a man like him, a huge and tall man like him being so precious unconsciously.

“hi,” punk murmurs back, studying drew’s face, brushing his hair back with his fingers, tucking a few strands behind his ear. “you feeling okay?”

“mhmm, mostly yes,” drew nods, leaning up, standing in between punk’s legs. he stretches his body and punk sits up, placing his hands on drew’s waist, caressing the skin there. “but i’m not gonna lie, you punched my head so hard that i had to take ibuprofen right after leaving the ring. i’m hurting all over, but i’m used to it. you’re a wrestler too, you’re familiar with the pain.”

“i am, but i’m sorry about the punches to your head. i like to get bloody and violent with you on the mat, but i don’t like to see you hurting,” punk presses a kiss to drew’s stomach, very aware of the only thing covering drew’s nudity — a single towel. “you fucked my back as well, so we’re even,” he shrugs.

“that’s just because you’re old,” drew teases — their age difference isn’t big, but drew likes to see punk get mad at him because of it whenever drew brings it up.

punk narrows his eyes, his hair falling onto his forehead. drew thinks he looks a little boyish like this, without his hair gelled up — it makes his green eyes stand out. “i don’t see you bringing up my age when you’re choking me on the ring or on your cock, drew.”

“you can’t talk back at me while you’re being choked, phil, especially when you’re choking on my cock, which you happen to like a lot,” drew points out. punk mumbles a fuck you to him under his breath. “oh, come on, punk, don’t get all mad right now, yeah? it’s valentine’s day. shouldn’t we be enjoying it together now that we have some time alone?”

punk gently pushes drew back and gets up, standing in front of him. their height difference is noticeable — punk needs to look up in order to stare at drew’s eyes. drew already has that malicious gaze on punk, a sly smile on his lips.

“just after i beat your ass at the ring and beat you so fucking much that you couldn’t even get up? yeah, we should. that win was my valentine’s day gift,” punk laughs, even when drew shakes his head at him. punk is a menace, in and out of the ring, in and out of the bedroom.

“that’s fair,” drew hums, and his hands are quick to embrace punk’s waist and pull him closer to him. punk smells like soap and mint, like comfort and danger at the same time. punk wraps his arms around drew’s neck, and drew steals a quick peck from him. “but what about my valentine’s day gift? was the beating supposed to be my gift as well?”

“not at all,” punk caresses drew’s nape, and drew is then pushed towards the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel room until his back meets the glass, warmth against coolness. a shiver runs down his spine. “i thought of something a little more… spicy,” punk whispers against drew’s lips before kissing him, and drew holds punk’s waist tight, one of his hands sliding underneath his shirt because he needs to touch skin, needs to feel punk’s body against his own.

it’s dangerous what they are doing, but absolutely no one can see them. drew’s room is in one of the top floors of the building. there’s only the stars in the sky to watch, only the stars to witness the way punk forces drew to turn around and presses him against the window with his own body. drew’s hands steady himself as he places his palms on the glass in front of him, and he closes his eyes immediately when punk’s hands slide down his chest, one of them cupping his peck and the other sliding under his towel, grabbing his hardening cock.

“this is what i wanted to do to you, because you’ve been so good for me today, drew,” punk whispers against the skin of drew’s back, kissing, nibbling and licking at it, tasting drew on the tip of his tongue. drew gasps loudly, pressing his forehead against the window. punk’s hands are very skilled, not only to inflict pain but also pleasure — it should be criminal the way punk slowly jerks off his cock and teases his nipples. drew whimpers, quickly wetting punk’s palm with his precum, especially when he feels how hard punk’s getting behind him.

“you were so beautiful on that mat, drew,” punk breathes out, rubbing his thumb on the head of drew’s cock. drew’s cock is heavy and hot in his hand, thickening at each movement of punk’s palm. drew feels like he’s going crazy — the pain he feels in his body mixed with the sudden pleasure gets him almost dizzy.

“please,” drew groans, rubbing his ass somehow still covered by the towel against punk’s clothed cock.

“breathing hard, sweaty, in pain, pissed off because you lost to me,” punk chuckles, and drew opens his eyes only to see punk’s inked hands doing a mess to his body. “because you let this old man beat you, right? isn’t that right, big man? so, so hard for me,” punk lets out a groan, and drew’s hands are getting sweaty, sliding off the window. he tries hard to steady himself, but he knows he won’t fall. punk’s got him. he’s always got him.

“i love you,” the confession comes suddenly, and drew’s heart beats like crazy inside his chest. he knows it already, but every single time he hears it, it’s like the first time. “i’ll meet you in a cell or an elimination chamber pod anytime, valentine.”

#drew mcintyre #cm punk #punkintyre #drabble #wrestling fanfiction #wwe #oneshot #yaoi #art inspo #my writing

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 8 months ago

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Kenny Omega being a tease about having such a big dick

Kenny Omega Masterlist Main Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, unprotrcted sex, creampie, overstimulation

"What's wrong baby, am I too big for you" Kenny chuckled as he refused to release the death grip on your hips that would definitely bruise. It didn't matter how much he preped you or how many times you had sex, everytime felt likw the first time.

"I know, I know baby. But it feels so good, my cock fits so perfectly in this tight pussy" You lost count of how many orgasms he had pulled from you. You were lost in bliss, your mind was mush as yet another orgasm threatened to spill.

Kenny looked in awe at the bulde in your stomach, being able to see just how deep he was in you. You tried to swat his hand away as he brought it back to your raw clit that was severly overstimulated. It was no use as he played with the bundle of nerves, trying to get another orgasm out of you.

He wiped away the tears that spilled with the pad of his thumb. Licking the tears as he wispered in your ear "Those sweet tears are almost as sweet as this perfect pussy." He placed delecate kisses along your face and neck as he continued to ram into you.

He knew you were close, he felt the way your walls fluttered arounf him and suffocated his dick. He knew you needed to cum, yet your body fought it. "Come on baby, milk my cock for my cum. I want you to cum all over my cock." He grunted as he increased his pace. "I can't do it" you wispered. Your body was fighting it, too sensitive to take any more. "Do you want me to fill you up? Fuck my cum deep into this perfect pussy. God you are perfect" Just then he removed the hand from your clit, placing it on your stomach instead. He applied pressure to you stomach, causing your orgasm to wash over you. Kenny didn't miss a beat, letting you ride your high as he came hard inside of you. You struggled to catch your breath, your mind had turn into mush. "You did so good for me beautiful" Kenny lovingly whispered as he colapsed next to you.

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usomads · 5 months ago

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𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢… 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔲𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔶

♡ about me

hello, and welcome to my masterlist! my name is mads, i'm 23, and i go by she/her pronouns. i haven't been writing that long but i figured i'd go ahead and organize my page a bit to make it easier to navigate!

♡ rules

all of my stories contain content that is not suitable for underage readers- please remember you MUST be 18+ to request, follow me, or engage with my content. ageless/underage accounts will be blocked.

♡ who i write for

i write for both wwe and aew!

wwe:

◦ og bloodline (roman reigns, jey uso, jimmy uso)

◦ new bloodline (solo sikoa and tama tonga)

◦damian priest

◦ dominik mysterio

aew:

◦ kenny omega

◦ will ospreay

◦ jon moxley

◦ hangman adam page

requests are currently OPEN!

◦ wwe masterlist

◦ aew masterlist

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spotofimagines · 28 days ago

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Gauntlet ~ Chris Sabin

A/N: We're pretending this is in the transfer window so the roster makes sense. My requests are still open for short drabbles so if you enjoy this, come get yourself some more :)

Warnings: injuries - reader is female

Word Count: 3.6k

Chris Sabin x wrestler!reader

Summary: The effects of your gruelling gauntlet match have a nervous duo doing what they can to help you backstage.

gif by @dorkorder

Lines stretched wildly from the lights above you, blurred and bright, piercing your stinging eyes. You struggled for air in the middle of the ring and Liv Morgan’s music rang in your ears as though it were playing in a distant room.

54 minutes you'd been out there. 54 minutes since you walked through the curtain. And now you weren't sure whether you would make it back through that curtain on your own two feet.

You'd fought tooth and nail in a gauntlet match against five other women. The effects of their punches steadily rose in a dull ache now that you finally had a moment of peace from the flurry.

Naomi. She first took you to a 20-minute bout, forcing you to pull out your best moves early and use up all your energy to match hers. But your finisher off the top rope was eventually enough to put her away.

Zelina Vega. Her energy was also hard to compete with. You had managed to clamber onto the ring apron with her before she pulled out a hurricanrana that had you smashing into the edge of the solid commentary table. Your head had been pounding since. After a near count-out, you scraped it back and hit your finisher to get the win.

Piper Niven. A torment of heavy-hitting moves would have easily squashed you into the canvas for a three-count, but the slams and sentons didn’t finish you off. Chelsea Green had gotten adventurous with her distractions and didn’t get caught hitting you in the face with her United States Championship. Despite this, you turned the match around and hit your finisher twice this time to pin Piper. This much to Chelsea’s dismay, who hit you with a buckle curb stomp before the referee ordered her away.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Pat McAfee shouted up to you as you draped limply over the bottom rope facing their table. “These women are killing me, Pat.” You shouted back before the next music hit.

“If those women were killing her, Pat, imagine what this one is going to do.”

Shayna Baszler. Michael Cole was right. The most maniacal wrestler of the lot, she spent time twisting and grinding your already weak ankle along with as many of your other bones as she could have a go at snapping. When the kimura lock was sinched in and you finally, painstakingly crawled your way to reach the ropes, she refused to let go. The referee disqualified Shayna and calling the match in your favour only encouraged Zoey Stark and Sonya Deville to add more damage. A senseless three-on-one beating and a spear through the barricade had you down and out ringside.

That left Liv Morgan free to run down, throw you in the ring and hit obLIVion to pick up a quick pin.

In 54 minutes, you wrestled with every fibre of your being to beat some of the strongest women on the roster.

In 45 seconds, Liv won the gauntlet and became the number 1 contender.

The music was a drawl in the background compared to the sharp sting in your side that hurt more with each desperate breath.

You peeled yourself off the canvas and slowly rolled towards the ropes, using all your might to hold the bottom rope and lift yourself onto your knees.

A sudden quiet flooded you as the music shut off. Liv and Raquel must have left the stage. What a sorry state of affairs, you thought, that she could come out and claim all the victory before you could even come to your senses.

You felt separate from your body as you heaved air into your lungs, the pain in your side digging deeper into your ribs. You tried your hardest to stand but your ankle couldn't hold the weight and it was no use, you couldn't get your muscles to lift you anyway.

Losing all effort, your mind clouding with the growing pain in your ankle and head, you just rolled under the rope to the ground, thinking it might help you stand. But as soon as your feet hit the mat you crumbled, your knees thudding down.

The sound of the crowd was rumbling louder. The hazy noise was unclear. You could make out the claps of a chant sounding from them all, but you couldn't focus on the words or the faces.

As you tried to recognise their tune, a small burst of noise from the fans just behind the barricade startled you; you'd been in the business long enough to know someone had come out down the ramp.

Your heart started to race as you anticipated another attack. Nia Jax and Candice LeRae had been mauling you backstage whenever they got the chance, and it would be just like them to capitalise on the moment and double your hurt just for fun.

You leant back on your knees, your chest rising and falling rapidly in feeble attempts to muster up any shred of fight left in you. The lights spiked your eyes and before you could see the figure in front of you, or even register who it was, a hand landed on your shoulder.

The tense worry that coursed through your body lasted only a moment as a familiar voice washed you in relief.

“Y/N, are you okay? I'm here, you're okay.”

It was as though every piece of you gave in at the sound of your boyfriend and you could have sobbed on the spot as the last hour caught up with you in a second.

Chris Sabin’s voice effortlessly cut through the environment, his warm touch cutting through all the pain. You leant back down over your knees with your eyes screwed shut and you could hear him kneeling before you, both hands on the back of your shoulders and his head resting just beside yours.

“Just breathe, you're okay. We're gonna help you, baby. Breathe, come on.” His soothing words were hot in your ear and you nodded. It was all you could do as the pain crept back into your side.

You felt his body move from the spot before you as you leant up, a pair of hands grabbing yours and slowly lifting them. Only when an arm snaked around you, another set of hands on your hips steadying you and lifting where you couldn't, did you look up to find Alex Shelley's nervous eyes fully taking in just how battered you were.

“Are you alright?” Alex almost shouted over the crowd and you nodded feverishly, hoping that if you told yourself you were okay it would stop hurting so much. He raised your right arm as Chris slotted into your side.

“Here you go. I've got you,” Chris said lowly, carefully grabbing your wrist on his shoulder with his other arm wrapped securely around you. You squeezed Alex's hand as they pulled you to your feet.

The crowd was getting louder, and it was becoming harder to hear Chris’ attempts at calming you down over the distorted noise.

Wrestling fans knew you and Chris were a couple, you had been for many years and you didn’t keep it a secret, but they’d never seen you interact on WWE TV.

Beyond the odd picture of you both on your Instagram every couple of months or so, they didn’t get much of a glimpse into what your relationship looked like.

But here was the perfect example; you battered and bruised in a frenzy with nothing left to give, and Chris doing everything in his power to make sure you were okay. He’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. He’d spend every second of the day making you happy. He’d stand up against every semblance of a threat against you. He’d carry your beaten-down body as far as he needed to fix it.

As Chris’ hand on your waist tried to give a comforting squeeze of encouragement, a shooting pain hit through you like lightning. When you jolted into his side, he immediately moved his hand to your hip with an apology, and Alex pressed a small towel on the space.

You sucked in a breath, your teeth clenched and your body seized up. A small yelp of pain had Chris stopping his step forward halfway through.

“My ankle,” you could barely speak loud enough for Chris to hear over the loud crowd, “my ankle is done.”

“I know, I know,” Chris said, speaking calmly but hurriedly taking hold of the towel on your side. “We'll go slow, we've got time.”

Your lungs burned in your chest, the hot air not doing much to help you catch your breath. Your sweaty hair clung to your face and you knew your makeup was smudged on your cheeks from the faint streaks of black on your hands after wiping under your eyes.

With a deep, ragged breath, you tentatively put one foot in front of the other while leaning heavily on Chris.

“There you go, just like that,” Chris soothed, voice carrying over the other sounds in the arena, “just listen to them, Y/N.”

He paused a little as you reached the bottom of the ramp. You lifted your head, your hair falling damp down your heavy shoulders, to finally look around and take in your surroundings for the first time in 15 minutes.

Every fan you could see was on their feet applauding and cheering your name. For 54 minutes you'd been in the ring before them and they'd had your back the whole time.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. It was support you'd fought for your entire career and they were giving it in heaps full. It was as though the bubble in your ears had burst, and you could hear them all clapping for you.

The emotions flooded you instantly, your chest tightening as you looked through the crowd. Your fast breaths almost impossibly got faster and you couldn't help the tears in your eyes. Your ankle seared below you, burning hot pain travelling slowly further up your leg and the wound on your side stabbed through your torso.

But the gentle squeeze on your wrist and Chris’ strong words made it feel so unimportant.

“It's all for you, Y/N, all you.”

You didn't know if it was the heat of the moment or the way Chris slightly loosened his hold on you that made your knees feel weak. You were barely able to keep yourself up as you nodded appreciatively at the fans with tears escaping you. This was your moment, and you couldn't believe how hot your ankle burned beneath you.

As Alex returned with your leather entrance jacket, he drew your attention away from the sea of faces. He slung the jacket over his shoulder and joined in the applause, circling behind you.

You heard Michael Cole say something fairly loud, though the details were obscured before the lights dimmed down.

“We're in the ad break, we've got a couple of minutes,” Alex said behind you both, patting your arm.

Chris’ thumb rubbed your wrist on his shoulder as he helped you turn around and head backstage. Alex slowly trailed alongside you in case you needed more help, waving a couple of referees away when they came to assist.

Alex knew you didn't need it. Chris was everything you needed.

He'd get you where you needed to be in one piece, no matter how long it took. There was no way Chris would leave your side and let someone else take you back, even if they were trained professionals. He knew you best, and he’ll help you the best.

The fans still applauded over the sound of the WWE Shop advert on the titantron as Alex held the curtain open for you before turning and clapping to the fans for their support.

Chris ushered you through gorilla, not letting you sit down despite your slight step towards an empty chair. It would take more effort to get you back up again than it would to keep you going, and he'd hate to have you receiving real medical attention right by the curtain where other wrestlers would be passing through. By the look of your ankle, you needed more than a quick once over.

Just after you groaned a little and Chris was about to interrupt your protest, a gruff voice beat him to it.

“Go straight to the medic's office, Y/N, get sorted out.” Triple H's booming voice sounded over the other noise in the space.

Chris hummed beside you in agreement, his chest rumbling against your side saying all that needed to be said and you let him guide your aching body where it needed to go, taking an open bottle of water from Alex.

The few personnel standing in gorilla parted to make room for you, but Hunter stood and held an arm out. His heavy hand landed on your shoulder, emphasising how tired your muscles were from how you swayed as he closed the space between you. When he leaned his head closer to yours, the surrounding blue light was blocked out. All that existed was him.

“You did great today. That was the performance of a lifetime,” he said lowly, his words washing over you with pride. You’ll remember that for a long time, and so will all those fans. You’ll get your chance at the belt, I promise.”

The sentence hit you through the heart like a knife. You’d given every shred of yourself that you could give, and you had no reward to show for it at all. The glory and the winnings went to Liv, not you. If your ankle wasn’t scorching through your shoe, you might have felt how deeply that notion hurt you at that moment, but you knew that was something that would hit you tomorrow.

While Hunter spoke, Chris slid out from under your arm and moved behind you, letting you have a private moment. He carefully pulled the towel off your skin as he went and the red that coloured the white cotton made his eyes go a little wide. He knew you had a sore spot there and were struggling to breathe, but he didn't know you were bleeding quite so much.

He snapped his head to look at Alex, who nodded nervously back at him, the same hint of fear in his eyes that made Chris’ stomach drop.

Alex had known it was bad since they met you at ringside and he spotted the red marks on the ring canvas from where you had rolled out. But he knew Chris would be worried enough about your ankle as it was to tell him about that too. It was nothing a medic couldn’t stitch up, but the problem was that it needed stitching up, and soon.

Alex took the towel from his hands and refolded it so the outside was white again before handing it back. Chris had enough time to inspect your side and the blood that was already starting to rush up again. You were still breathing heavily and standing with your foot barely on the floor as you listened to Hunter.

Chris felt as though his own chest was struggling for air at the damaged sight before him. Yes, he was proud of you for how you fought tonight, and yes, he loved the tenacious spirit inside you, but man he hated seeing you beat up at the end. A big bruise usually had him tending to you during the night, never mind damage as bad as this.

Hunter patting your shoulder and standing straight was never a more welcome sight to Chris, who immediately moved to press the towel onto your side again. You brushed a hand through your hair and hissed at the stinging sensation before Chris spoke in your ear.

“Hold this for a second,” he patiently waited for you to sip your water and place your hand where his once was.

Your fingers brushed against his and the feeling, ever so slight, spread warmth through your entire hand. It was a nice contrast to the cool air that circulated gorilla, his voice a nicer sound than that of the producers muttering into their headsets.

You wanted nothing more than to hug him, have his arms wrap you up safely and be able to let out the tired sighs of defeat you’d been holding onto. But it would have to wait. His comfort was working in the form of protective overdrive and it would be until you were okay. Or at least until you had stopped bleeding so much.

Chris crouched down and quickly untied your boot, pulling the laces loose and then tucking them into the top of the shoe out of the way. When he came back up, his breath was warm on your neck. “That a little better?” You nodded feebly as he took ahold of the towel once more and applied some pressure, passing your bottle of water to Alex and slinging your arm over his shoulder again.

Hunter gave Chris a quick pat on the back as you started walking, offered the same to Alex, and then focused back on the show that was about to restart.

You hobbled beside your boyfriend now, hardly able to move after having stopped. Your muscles felt tight and sore, your head pounding with exhaustion and your ankle feeling as though it had been severed from the bone. But Chris’ arms held you up. That was all you needed to keep going.

Sami Zayn, who had been waiting in gorilla for his cue to walk out after the break, moved to hold the second curtain open for you both with Alex. He offered a sympathetic smile and patted Chris on the back as you slowly went past.

“You were amazing tonight, Y/N, amazing.” Sami nodded, and you smiled as strongly as you could at him, though you weren’t sure much came out. Chris squeezed your wrist in recognition, silently partnering Sami’s words.

Just as the curtain closed behind you, he kissed your temple and smoothed some of your hair off your face. As you faced him properly and he pulled you into him a little closer, you couldn’t help melting into his arms. With one hand securely on the towel on your side, his other hand cradled the back of your head as you sunk into his shoulder, your breaths becoming shaky.

Alex had already gone in the direction of the medical room only a few doors away, so Chris just held you close for a moment, giving you a second to let go of it all. All the stress in your shoulders, all the pain in your joints, all the disappointment in your mind.

You fell a bit closer into his hold each time you breathed out and if not for his strong grasp, you would have crumbled into a heap on the ground another time over. Your mind was swimming with a hundred thoughts about you, your body, your loss, your fights, your tries, your ankle, your fatigue. Trying to figure out what it all meant while you had three searing pains ripping through you.

The tears that pricked your eyes were the culmination of a long, hard day at work, that was for sure.

Chris kissed your forehead and gently massaged your head with his hand, swaying you as much as he could without forcing your weight onto your ankle.

“I’m proud of you,” He said, almost a whisper in the quiet corridor, but it echoed loudly in your mind.

“You wrestled better than I’ve ever seen,” He spoke softly, pulling his head back but keeping his arms firmly planted where they were, “and you’ve had some damn good matches in your time. Today you were awesome.”

You chuckled at his words, tears falling down your face with a smile. Chris grinned and wiped your cheeks with his thumb before cupping your jaw.

“You’re amazing, and I love you very much,” He said quietly, sincerely, truthfully. Your eyes shone with the overwhelmed tears that were yet to fall as you sighed, uttering those three words back in barely a whisper.

Chris smiled, that sense of awe in his expression that he often carried after your biggest matches, and his lips met yours. A soft gesture carrying all the care he could feel for you moving slowly against your lips for a few moments before he smiled down at you again, kissed your forehead and moved to turn you both sideways.

“I’d really like to get this sorted now,” he pushed a little bit of pressure onto the towel and you nodded, feeling his shoulders tense up again.

The blissful few seconds you just had quickly washed away as the first steps reminded you just how little your body had left to give, struggling to even walk at all anymore.

Alex poked his head out into the corridor and at the painful grimace back on your face, he waved you over to him. A paramedic stood in the doorway putting on a set of gloves and gazing at you to get a mental headstart on the job.

Once in the room, Chris lifted you onto the table and squeezed your hand to comfort you, before finally conceding his hold on the towel. He gazed at the redness of it with concern and took all his might not to look down at the wound itself, knowing it would only make him panic at this point.

Instead, he moved to the end of the bed and carefully slipped your boot off, letting the other doctor size up the injury as he rounded back up to you.

Chris pulled up a chair and sat beside you, trying his best to give a comforting smile but not hiding the nerves too well. He just sat quietly, letting the medics do their work and letting you squeeze his hand as they dressed and stitched up your side, mentally preparing himself for a night in the hospital with you and your busted-up ankle.

#chris sabin #chris sabin x reader #chris sabin imagine #alex shelley #motor city machine guns #mcmg #wwe #wrestling #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine #oneshot #my fic #my writing #my og post

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