#wwe Smackdown just bring it

[baddawg94]

[aaronpullinteeth]

SANTA'S RAGE! - WWE SMACKDOWN! JUST BRING IT - Ep11

Santa is OP.

New Christmas episode of WWE Smackdown Just Bring It

[dynamitekansai]

wweonfox: Solo just called out Roman Reigns! 🤯

[devileaterjaek]

WWF Smackdown! Just Bring It (PS2) Join our community on //Discord// Support me on //Ko-Fi//

[candylovestheshield]

Why this rabbit sitting behind the announcers staring into our souls

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 6}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the splinter of wood and a muttered insult, you're done. You're done with the town; you're done with the hot and cold from Joel. You're tired and you don't have anymore fight left.

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, heavy angst, blood, mild injuries, description of stitches, reader had a mild injury, the holidays are hard, a lot on internal monologue in this (both joel pov and reader), hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, though he is a bit daft in this, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, hurt and comfort, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, adult content, kissing, yearning, protective joel, fluff, this is so unbelievably angsty, reader loses her cool, argumentative language, heated arguments, threatening language, fighting, wwe smackdown, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: okay, this is the penultimate chapter! this series grew into something way beyond a cheeky handful of scenes that were just a random thought six months ago. it's been a joy to write for these two, i've put so much of myself in olive and for y'all to root for her and love her really warms my heart. the interaction with this has been insane and i love all of it, i love y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Sleep was such a pull on your psyche as the wind outside howled, battering anything that wasn’t secure and echoing loudly through the empty streets of Jackson. The habit of waking up throughout the night to peer outside your bedroom window and toward the small slip of the front street over your backyard fence periodically had been amplified in the storm. Unease settled in you, the storm bringing back memories you would father let fade into nothing. Inclement weather had been a challenge back when the world was whole, when safety measures were in place, when medical aid was abundant, when homes and buildings were constructed with them in mind. But even back then, they had been devastating.

And now?

They were as deadly as the virus.

Incessant snowfall all through the night, the light sprinkle of it last night turning into slanted sheets of downpour. It was blindingly bright on the other side of the windowpanes.

Despite the lockdown put in place by the council, you had told Maria depending on the streets that you would still make it to the mess hall. The intention of baking some breakfast casseroles hard to shake, of wanting to provide for those who may not have stock in their homes, or who relied on the mess hall as a main source of food. Layering as much as you could to combat the below freezing temperature, you pulled on your boots by the front door. Grabbing a knit cap and a scarf, you opened your front door and trudged through the snow drifts that had formed overnight.

Joel is panicking before he’s even fully conscious. His heart feels like it’s stopped but knows that it’s beating far too fast. His entire body feels weak and achy, his head pounding and overflowing with too many things. He felt nauseous, the drag of his lungs and the slushing of his stomach too much for him to handle. He groaned, pressing his face further into the pillow, the scent of his body wash wafting up and making it even worse.

He fucked up. He knows he did.

You had raised your voice at him, refused his help, his touch. Even as you laid collapsed on the ground because he had accidently knocked you down. You had been so worked up, so angry, but he had seen the way you clutched to your middle as you fled from him for a second time. He cursed low, the words a growl as he kicked the blankets from his sweating body despite the chills crawling down his spine.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He knew that woman was bound to be nothing but trouble. She was always a little too chatty for him, too willing to burst his bubble of personal space. But she had wiggled her way into his life and coerced him into a huge project that had taken so much of his free time leading up to the holidays.

He was a giving man, having been influenced by the acceptance he had been given here in the settlement, wanted to do what he could to help establish himself here. Not wanting to go back to the eat or be eaten mantra of the outside world or a collapsing quarantine zone. He had wanted to be everything he could manage for Ellie, to keep her safe here in a place that would allow for her to heal from the things they endured together. To survive in a way she hadn’t had the chance to, to have a life that wasn’t all bad. He had done his best to integrate, to be someone she could look up to and feel safe around. All of it had been for her, to have holidays, to have friends, to have a chance at finding out who she was without the undercurrent of survival being the only inspiration. And maybe ha had wanted it for himself too.

He had wanted to invite you over, try his hand at making you something for a change. If you had teased him over it, so be it, he would’ve taken it without argument. Just to see your lips quirk up and your soft laughter ring in the air of his kitchen. He would give anything for it to be his to witness.

The faux image of the domestic scene melted away, replaced by the one of you on the ground at his feet, with fear in your eyes. He hadn’t thought you were afraid of him, so open and willing to be in his space.

To tease him and lightly berate him when his answers were less than appropriate or too gruff.

Joel had never shown violence or distaste toward you, but yeah maybe he had been quieter or moodier on some patrols. But he wouldn’t get the chance to speak with you today. Patrols cancelled until the blizzard raging outside calmed down. A safety precaution that had been made lightly by the council. The risk of a group or pair getting stuck, of horses unable to handle it, of snow drifts forming and virtually undetectable, all of it had been taken into consideration. He wasn’t sure you were even cleared for patrol with your stitches. No pain killers you had said, reserved for extreme cases with how the supply was dwindled down to too little for a town of a few hundred.

Groaning as his head hammered, Joel shoved up from the bed, the blue sheets showing damp spots from his sweating and aching body. Scowling, he stripped the bed and made his way downstairs with them bundled in his arms. He felt a weird sense of déjà vu as he stuffed them into the top loading washer, reaching for the jar of powdered soap and pouring in a scoop. It was all so fucking normal. But his whole world felt like it was tilted, off kilter. Even more so than normal.

And it was because he knew he fucked up. He had hurt you, he had seen in it your eyes as you took in the way Marsha was clinging to him in her drunken state. The way she had deemed herself important enough to impinge on his time with you, so rare within the walls. Both of you so busy and both of you so afraid to ask after each other’s time. He knew he was, because he didn’t want to intrude on the way you kept to yourself, how you let your errands build up to take a whole day sometimes. And he knew some of that was because of the way people wouldn’t hold conversations with you, let alone start them. Opting to keep to yourself as a coping mechanism. Not wanting to feel like you were imposing yourself on the people who didn’t want to interact with you. He knew, because he had felt much the same way back in the quarantine zones, even if it was more born out of fear than distaste like it was for you.

He knew when you stumbled over your words to ask after him crafting something for you that you had worried yourself into a state before you even did it. Worried about taking up his time, taking up his resources, even if you had supplied him with the wood for the project. He had felt like a complete ass when you shut down and walked away, having felt comfortable enough to ask for something more when he had agreed to the first.

But Marsha. Marsha and her ill-placed infatuation with him had ruined the moment last night. You had told him you liked him, liked him. The heat he felt from you as he leaned in close and wanted to tell you he felt the same way. Shared and stolen kisses could only infer so much. And he groaned at the memory of pulling your hand over his erection the other morning. He was a damn fool to have done that, you had been pulling your hand away, but you had been touching him in his sleep. When he wasn’t able to tell you no, when something inevitably broke the moment, when something startled you or you thought too hard about it. You had just done it and the dilation of your eyes watching him, the hitch of your breaths, it had all been too tempting. He wouldn’t have told you no and he would’ve ignored the world ending all over again if it meant he could be with you in that way, even just once.

The older woman broken another tentative moment between you two. With the courage of alcohol flowing in her veins. It had made her bold in her words to him, her sentiments, her actions. Hell, the only reason he hadn’t heard your steps on the street was that he had been in shock. She had surged up and pressed her lips to his after he had denied her offer of a nightcap. He had just been trying to walk her home and make sure she was safe, even if he wasn’t overly fond of her, her friends had all been too unaware of themselves to help her.

Anger had overridden the shock; how dare she think she could do that. His heart wasn’t his to give, it was yours. And he had been about to tell you so.

The weak arguments of the woman defending herself and the gift she had gotten him even if she hadn’t gotten his name in the exchange for today had blurred his senses even more. His mind focused on the holiday, on taking you the gift he had made along with his heart. Hoping that today would be the day things were out in the open, plainly spoken and accepted. He only worried about how well you would receive him after being caught with Marsha last night.

Today.

Today was Christmas and the town was in a semi-state of lockdown with the strong winds and flurries of show raining down to collect along the streets. The bite to the air the worst of the season so far. Turning the washer on, he moved toward the coffee maker. Only to discover that he was out of grounds to brew.

With a string of muttered curses, Joel bundled up and braved the weather to cross the street.

He needed coffee and the gift he had left with Maria yesterday.

Tommy was pacing back and forth, waiting for the second pot of coffee to finish brewing. It had been an early morning, Maria rising hours ago and taking off with another neighbor to trek toward the mess hall where you had diligently showed up for your shift. Everyone had been advised late last night to remain indoors unless absolutely necessary.

A knocking barely echoed through the still howling wind. Thankfully, the snow had stopped, though it was built up deep all around the settlement.

A few moments later and both men were seated in the living room, the tea light candles flickering underneath two names etched in chalk above the mantle.

“She won’t be home much today.” Tommy supplied, reading the anxious silence Joel was stewing in beside him. “She trekked through one of the worst bouts of this weather to get to the mess hall. Wanted to make sure everyone had something to eat in case the power stutters or goes out. Her, Maria, and a couple others are gonna deliver meals door to door.”

“She’s too good for how people treat her.”

“From what I hear, you haven’t been treatin’ her too good either, brother.” Tommy took a long pull from his mug before he set it down on the coffee table. “She was over here after that overnight patrol, helpin’ with Macon. Was so tired she was rambling about how much she appreciates everything you do ‘round here, how talented you are, how nice you are to her. But then if you’re so nice, why doesn’t she have one of the cutting boards that was her idea.”

“It ain’t that simple. I can be nice to her and not have one of ‘em for her.” Joel couldn’t turn to look at his brother, knowing how easily he would read him. Read the anxiety and worry he felt over the entire situation. All the miscommunication. All the mixed signals he had been giving you without realizing it. He thought you had opted to not talk about the kiss because you were uncomfortable, because you were worried he hadn’t liked it or wanted it. Because he hadn’t exactly told you that he did, that he dreamt of kissing you, of holding you, of protecting and providing for you. Spending quiet evenings in with homemade meals, nights out at the bar, helping you with the harvest again next fall. All of it, he thought about all of it with you.

“Why don't you just make her one, I don’t get it."

"Drop it, Tommy, she's not getting one."

"I thought you liked her, I thought...I thought I saw you two kissing the other night. Sure as hell looked like she had been caught red-handed."

"We…we were. We have, a few times., but she thinks I’m with Marsha because that…insane woman has taken such a liking to me. Saw me walking her home from the bar the last night because she downed far too many shots and Millie was nowhere to be seen.”

“She knows you, trusts you not to do that to her if you’ve shown interest. Just give her a cutting board and I’m sure it’ll all blow over. That's all she wants Joel, to feel included. Like she's a part of something.” Tommy was wringing his hands in, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought over his next words. “A lot of people have them and she doesn't. It's basically an insult thrown in her face."

“Fuck, I didn't think of it like that."

The sip of coffee Joel took turned bitter in his mouth. He really hadn’t thought of it like that. He had just been trying to hone his skills with the new craft before gifting you the best one he could make. He set down the mug, stomach turning as the acid settled heavy. Rubbing his palms roughly over his face, rustling the thick hairs of his moustache.

"She's going to ask to be taken off patrol, Joel. She did ask before you showed up, stop it altogether and just focus on the mess hall. She feels like it would be easier to avoid the looks and gossip. We know about it, the council, but there’s not much we can do about it.” Tommy was obviously upset, his voice thick as he divulged something you had gone to him in a moment of weakness. He recalled the way you had been in tears, hurt beyond words by the acceptance that Joel and Ellie had been given as newcomers when you had been here for years and how upset you were at yourself for being jealous of it.

“But she kept at it as a favor for me, to help me keep you alive. To help me feel okay with not being by your side out beyond the walls when I couldn’t be. Because I worry, I worry so damn much about you brother and I just want you to be okay. She saw that, she saw that and took it onto her own shoulders because she cares about me.”

Joel sighed, his brothers words blossoming warmth in his chest.

“I am going to make her one, Tommy. From that piece of trunk I had you help me get from her yard. But it’s drying, the slabs I got from it. Already lost one and the other two need to dry.” He huffed out, chest tight as he thought of how long it would take. “She said the wood she brought me for those spoons took months to dry.”

“They’re beautiful, the whole set. I’m sure she’ll love them.” Tommy nodded to the box that contained them on in the kitchen. Of course he had looked them over, finding them when he had woken up and curious as to how they ended up in his own if your name was scribbled on the top of the box.

“But she came to me and asked for them, Tommy. It’s not gonna be the same if what you’re sayin’ is true. It’ll feel like a consolation when it’s not. It’s just the beginning of what I’m willin’ to give to her.”

“Then you should tell her that. She deserves to hear it.”

You ignored the knocking at your door, sleep keeping you weighted to the couch in your living room.

But the crack of wood and the clash of metal following a loud gust of wind had you surging up to your feet.

“Shit-“ A grunted curse was the only greeting you got before the door swung open to reveal the large shadow of Joel just outside of it.

“Joel? Why the hell would you break down my door?”

“It was an accident, I was just knocking and the wind got me-“

“Forced your way into my home? I thought I told you to leave me alone.” You hugged yourself, arms tight as you tried to shield away from the chill creeping into the living room.

“I-I-I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry. Please, I wouldn’t-“ He stumbled over his words, turning his back to you in order to try and set the door back into the frame. The wood was splintered around the lock, preventing it from shutting completely. He leaned down to get a closer look at the damage. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to probably make you a whole new door.”

“Just go, Joel. Please.” You clenched your eyes shut and walked away from the honeyed drawl, ignoring the pull it had on you to move closer. The kettle in the kitchen was just beginning to whistle and you removed it from the stove. But instead of gathering up a mug and the loose leaf tea from a cabinet, you flattened your palms on the table and hung your head.

You flinched when a wrapped box slid between your arms, pushed by a tan, weathered hand.

“’s for you.”  His voice was so tender, his eyes wide and beseeching when you glanced up.

“No, thank you.” You pushed it back toward him, standing on the other side of the table.

“Olive, please. You said your name always gets thrown out of the exchange. I wanted to and it’s what you asked me for.”

He lifted the top of the box, setting the lid down beside it, the ribbon atop it looking far too cheerful for you. Set inside, amid a soft looking swath of cloth, was a set of wooden utensils tied together with a thick string. He held them out to you, a slight tremble in his hands. They were beautiful, the wood crafted expertly and you shook your head to rid yourself of the image of Joel sat in his desk chair face focused as he took the time to carve them from the block of wood you had taken to him.

“I pushed a lot of stuff back to make sure they were just right. Was so careful with the wood you brought to me, it was dense but I managed to sand it down without altering the look of it too much. I didn’t stain it, to keep the natural color, the grain is really beautiful-“

When you didn’t say anything, eyes focused on his chest, he trailed off. He set the gift back down on the table and took a step back, his mouth snapping shut. His gaze heavy on you as you tried to focus and keep your temper under control. But you were at the end of your patience. This time of the year already hard on you. Paired with the hot and cold from Joel, the judgment from the town, the lack of inclusion on anything going on and you were just tired. Deep down in your bones, exhausted.

“Joel…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You’re a good man. But I really don’t want to do this with you right now. I need some space because whatever I do, I can’t get you out of my head and it’s ruining me.” Your voice had started off at a normal volume, quickly growing as the words rushed from you. Anger flaring overwhelmingly, leaving you panting, chest heaving and hands clenched at your sides. The set of tied spoons resting on the table between you both, like a line not to be crossed. Like a mockery of the things he was offering you a little too late. Surging, you reached for them and hurled them in a display of anger you had thought you had managed to control. “Take your things and go, Joel Miller!”

They clattered to the floor across the kitchen, skidding along the tile to slam into the baseboards. The wood splintering and covering the floor behind him. But he hadn’t ducked, hadn’t brought his hands up to shield himself. Knowing, knowing that you wouldn’t have aimed them at him even as anger and hurt lit you from the inside out. He saw the remorse flash across your face the second they had left your hand.

Knowing that it was all an act of self-preservation. A way to save face, to save the fact that you had been hurt by his actions, his indiscretions. The memory of turning down the street, his hand wrapped innocently around Marsha, guiding her toward their shared street in her drunken state. And when he had declined the offer for a nightcap, she had pushed into his personal space to crush her lips to his.  Of running smack into you when he had tried to put distance between them, his back colliding with your front and crushing the wrapped gift in your hand. The sound of it thudding to the ground and your surprised shout warbling off into a deep breath of realization.

But the woman before him now was the same one who had taken the time to wrap the gift labeled with his name on it. Had taken the time to hand write recipes on a long-forgotten pack of index cards. Step by step instructions for things easy to combine and make nutritious means from. Had taken the time to include little, silly names for the meals that had pulled a tearful chuckle from him as he read them through in his inebriated state.

“I just want to be left alone. I just want, for one measly second that someone doesn’t watch me and wait for me to screw up, to give them a reason to feel disappointed. I-I can take it from the others, but Joel…I can’t handle it if it’s from y-you. Please just go.”

He didn’t go. He moved closer, into your personal space and he was thankful for the way you didn’t shy away from him even as tears raced down your cheeks. For the way you allowed him to cup your face in his hands and press his lips to yours, thumbs brushing away the tears. For the way your own moved against his as he tilted his head and really kissed you. There was no heat behind it like that last time, just adoration and reverence.

Pulling back, he whispered, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

He kisses the fear from you, pleading with you to understand that he's not going to turn his back on you.

He only hopes you can feel it. But your hands don’t rise to caress or cup his face, they don’t rise to rest on his chest, they don’t rise to run through his snow dampened hair. Your lips are barely moving against his and his heart sinks. It chips and shatters on the floor to settle with the pieces of broken olive wood.

But it wasn’t enough. It hurt that his attention wasn’t enough when you thought it would be. It was about his actions. How they had made you feel the last couple of months, since summer. The back and forth, the constant miscommunication, the humiliation of wanting a man who had so much more in his life, who was pulled in so many directions. The respect he had from the people within the settlement for the things he could do, for the things he provided to them. The issue of your reception, the possibility of it affecting his own if he were to be seen with you or you seeking out more of him. All of it was too much, the constant internal turmoil, it was heavy.

It was so heavy and you had to put it down.

“Joel,” Gently pushing him back, but not away, his body willingly moving with the motion. “Why didn’t you make me one, a cutting board?”

He froze.

When he sputtered on a few words before falling silent, you detangled from him. Crossing your arms as shield to your heart.

“This is why I keep to myself. It doesn't hurt when there's no one else involved.” Your voice was a low rasp, giving away the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill, the hot throb of them in your throat. “And even if you did try to be my friend, it's okay that you really don't want to be. You share things with people, you're a giver Joel, but I've had to ask for everything you've given to me.”

He could only watch as you closed yourself off, and you hoped he noticed the dark circles under your eyes. That he noticed just how much his attention had ruined you, because it had. You had been okay with how things were before he came along, content to keep to yourself, to spend patrols with Tommy and Maria. You hadn’t longed for companionship before he showed up and rode alongside you and asked simple questions about the town that developed into questions about yourself. Offering answers of his own in return. You hadn’t wanted before him.

“And that's not who i am, someone who asks for things she deserves. So…you standing there with no answer is you telling me that I don't mean anything to you. You don’t get to make me feel like I mean something and then not follow it with actions. I didn't take you for a cruel man. You say you’ve done things to stay alive, to fight for yourself and those in your care. And I wanted to believe that you changed, that you turned over a new leaf here. But you hurt me, Joel. You hurt me in a way that really…was so unfair.”

Once you let the words flow from within you it was hard to stop, they were a flood being released. Voice not stuttering or scrambling over them like you know you tended to do. Mostly from lack of interaction, of not using your voice most days as you spent it alone in the kitchen, home, or garden. The stuttering an anxious thing born of fear of interacting and it turning sour like it quickly tended to do. Words and sentiments always more ammo for those to use against you. And you could see it, in the man across from you, that he had things to say in response to the many words you were giving him. But you couldn’t, you were tired.

“I deserved better than the treatment I received by the people of this community, of this safe haven for those willing to contribute and who wanted something better for themselves. But the truth is…I’m better off alone.”

His voice cracked on the shape of your name on his lips.

But you shook your head, tears flowing freely and breathing labored.

“Just go, please.”

“Well hey there.” A figure approached you, where you were seated on the same stool at the long bar in the Tipsy Bison for the second night in a row. It was the man of the brother and sister duo you had convinced Joel to trust and bring back to the settlement. They had settled in well, Millie taking to the pregnant woman with a swiftness that had surprised you. But they were both close in age, something rare these days, to find friends you could relate to easily.

“Oh, h-hello.” You looked up from the book you had been reading, hearty sandwich on a plate beside your drink. Only a few bites taken out of it. The book holding your attention far more than the simpering hunger in your stomach. You hadn’t eaten all day, stewing in forlorn silence on the couch until your stomach rumbled. Only to find you didn’t have anything that would make a meal in your home, prompting you to brave the calmer but still whipping winds and intermittent snow fall.

“I just saw you from across the room, Tommy Miller said we could grab a bite here since the mess hall was closed for the day with the bad weather from this morning.” Nolan, you recalled his name. Nolan was nice, polite. You didn’t fault him for pointing a gun at you or Callie for managing to injure you. It was a sick, twisted world out in the wasteland of what was, especially if there was an unborn baby to worry about. They had just been doing what they needed to survive another day. “Guess no one wanted to risk working and getting stuck. I’m grabbing something to go I just wanted to thank you again, for helping us.”

“It’s no big deal. Everyone deserves a chance at something more.” You tried to smile, but you felt drained. From the early morning of cooking and delivering meals to front doors for people. Maria had enlisted the help of a handful of people, but it had been time-consuming to prep and make everything yourself. To bundle it all up into packs that would be appropriate servings.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He moved to sit beside you, startling you at his forwardness. There was a wry glint to his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he was fighting off a smile. “While I waited, that is.”

“Oh, t-that’s probably not a good idea. I’m not the most popular here, you’d have better luck integrating with-“

“Whore.” A female voice whispered as someone walked by behind you.

“Excuse me?” You whipped around, shocked at such a blatant display of behavior. You were used to whispers, to errant rumors springing up once you had left a store or a gathering, asked an impertinent question during patrol and general meetings. But this? A direct confrontation was a new level and you were far too tired to handle it. Especially with the day being what it was.

“You heard me, praying on the newcomers to try and sway them on your side.” It was Millie. She was sans coat, having removed it to enjoy her evening in the toasty bar with her gaggle of friends you could see gathered in a booth on the other side of the room. She must’ve come up to the bar for a refill when she decided to imitate her mother and impinge on your rare interactions with people. “I’d be careful if I was you, she tends to get people killed. Don’t want to find yourself the latest victim.”

“The council said that they’re selective of who they let in. Surely they-“ Nolan was trying to be polite, to not overstep his place being so new in such a large community. But you could see the anger in the furrowing of his brow, the frown pulling his lips down, the way his hands were twitching. It was sweet of him to feel the need to try and protect you but this is exactly what you had been worried about. That the two most instigating occupants would try and ostracize him and his sister for associating with you.

“They do, but in her case they should’ve left her out in the woods and let the Infected get her. Be better for everyone if they had.”

You had moved without even thinking. The force of your hand hitting the woman’s cheek loud across the room. The hush of conversation lulling, a tense silence following.

Scrambling to correct the huge mistake you just made, to save face, your words were a breath of stuttered apologies. Your stomach had dropped, no longer a part of your body as your mind moved through the outcomes and ramifications of your thoughtless actions. You had never been one to needlessly lay hands on someone. But…the time you had spent fighting to survive had changed you, altered you beyond what you had been. Your instincts honed and deadly, and you silently thanked whatever force of the universe that was still alive that you had left your knife at home. Otherwise, it would be hilt deep in her chest right now.

It was ugly and it was cruel, but someone could only take so much.

“Millie, oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry. I-“

You didn’t even get to finish your rushed words before she returned the slap, her hand connecting hard with your own cheek.

The sting of it hot, skin throbbing.

And it was like a damn broke. Filling the tunnel and making you desperate for a chance to crawl out.

But instead of breaking out of it into the town, you were transported outside the walls. Relying on your instincts, relying on fighting with everything you had to survive.

You were on her in a flash, not even a second had passed. Both of your knees knocking into the ground around her body. Your hands making contact with any part of her you could. Sounds of her struggling underneath you fly into the air with every punch, every pull of her hair, every push of your body against her. You didn’t care about her nails digging and tearing into your arms, her knees kicking up and colliding hard with your back, her elbows jutting into your ribs. The searing pain of your stitches popping loose.

You didn’t care. You didn’t care. You didn’t care.

Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled, while another held your legs down. Restraining you as you realized you were shouting out that same set of three words over and over again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, calm down.” Soft words, not harsh. And you shouted at them, forced the words from your aching throat, demanding that they let you go. That they leave you alone. Fighting against the people trying to hold you down. You felt your elbow connect with something hard, your knee with something soft and suddenly you were able to stagger to your feet.

Eyes not seeing details, just blurred faces and people standing all around you. Watching. Always just watching. Whispering things behind your back, not interacting with you, ignoring you. And you were done, you didn’t care.  And you shouted it for everyone to hear as you took in the sight of Millie crumpled on the ground. Having turned on her side to try and make herself smaller. Bruises were already blooming along her pretty face, her loose hair a tangled mess. Her nails were chipped and broken from digging them into your skin, the faint sting of them long lines down your arms. Her clothes were rumpled, the exposed skin of her stomach showing signs of bruising as well.

You just stared, unable to draw your gaze away from the whimpering woman. She wasn’t even trying to get up, she wasn’t even trying to fight back anymore. She was just laying there, bellowing out her hurt and looking so pathetic. And it made you feel bad, because she was nothing, would be nothing without the settlement of Jackson. She and her family had been here since the outbreak, safe in their secluded location, safe in the quick thinking of others, safe because of sheer, dumb luck that allowed her to continue being who she had always been.

But even despite the glitter of remorse beginning to shine through, you needed her to understand that you were done. That she had crossed a line she shouldn’t have. That for all the things she said and all the hurt she caused, you were the reason she was allowed to strut around town and act that way. You were the reason she was safe behind these walls and had an abundance of food. You were the god damn reason.

“Don’t you ever lay another hand on me, you understand? I will put up with your words, with your gossip, with you stealing every chance for me to have something good. But you will regret ever thinking of putting your hands on me, you hear me? I will fucking end you and make all your rumors true if you do it again.”

Her shuddering breath was the only response you got from her, but it was enough. You turned your back on her, grabbing your coat from the back of the stool you had been occupying, and walked out into the still falling snow.

“JOEL!” The bellow of his name, loud and alarming, startling him from where he had fallen asleep on the couch. He had collapsed there after returning from your place. He had frozen, all the sentiments he had planned to share with you died on his tongue the second you shared with him how much he had hurt you. It seemed it’s all you had experienced since coming here long before he and Ellie did. He hadn’t wanted to argue with you or belittle the things you had said, so he hadn’t. No words or feelings he had would have righted the wrongs done to you.

He felt unworthy of you, having played a part in it. He felt like he failed you, tricked you into an easy camaraderie when he knew after that first smile it would never be enough for him. He should’ve been honest from the beginning, told you he wanted to be someone to you. But instead, he had botched it, he had fucked up.

“Holy shit, dude, you need to come quick!” Ellie hollered as she barged through the front door, the handle slamming into the wall of the entry way and he had the errant through to put a piece of wood there to prevent it from happening again before it tore through the drywall.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He was hurtling up, hands reaching for the panting teenager as she came into the living room. Her eyes bright and shining, her hands trembling. She allowed him to pull her into his chest, his heart thudding, anxiety humming through him harsh and hot.

“It’s not me, it’s Olive.”

His heart stopped, his heart stopped because it was no longer in his chest. It was on the floor, bleeding and immobile between their feet.

“Is she…?” He didn’t even know how to finish his sentence. Gone? Hurt? Injured? Stood in front of Marsha or Millie just taking their words directly? The worst thought of all being shaken from his head because he couldn’t bear to give it life.

“She freakin’ lost it. She went ballistic on Millie at the bar. It took two people to pull her off and then she hurt them too. She was shouting all this stuff about how shit people treat her and then she took off.”

“Took off, Ellie, where?” He pushed her back to duck his head and caught her eyes. Worry spiking and making his mind run through all the possibilities. He needed to know where you went, even if you had sent him from your home with a hollow and broken heart.

“I-I don’t know, she just ran out the door and was gone by the time I tried to follow her.” Ellie reached up and held onto his wrists, her fingers wrapping around them and he realized for the thousandth time how small she was. How much things affected her, how her own trauma showed in ways they could both anticipate and in ways they could not. Seeing violence first hand since settling here seemed to have triggered her and he didn’t like it for either of you.

“It’s okay, baby girl. I got you, you’re okay.” He hushed, his words pressed into her forehead. She was trembling and he hated that he couldn’t do anything to help her. She clung to him, the winter already a harder time for her than the rest of the year. Awful memories associated with it that no matter how hard she tried to tamp them down, rose to the surface. He held her, offering his built up warmth to sooth her and when the sniffles stopped he lowered them both to the couch.

“Y-you should go find her, Millie tore her stitches open. They took that ungrateful dumbass to the infirmary. But Olive took off.”  

“Okay, but we’re taking you to Tommy’s okay?”

Minutes later they were across the street and knocking on the front door.

“Tommy, listen, I know it’s late. Believe me I know but Ellie needs to take your guest room and I need to know where Olive would go if she’s upset?” Joel didn’t waste any time, speaking as soon as the door began to open. Tommy just looked at him for a second, eyes taking in the thinly veiled panic on his normally calm and collected brother.

“Joel, what in the hell, what’s going on, what are you talking about?” His eyes snapped into focus, lack of sleep vanishing as he realized something happened.

“Olive, she snapped. Something about Millie starting something with some insults that turned into the two of ‘em going off on each other at the bar. Word is she took off, but she’s not at home and she didn’t come to me. Tommy, where would she go?” Joel ambled into the house, his hands soft on his brother’s shoulders as he tried to get the man to focus.

“She, uh, she’s never done anything like this before. She, um, she could have…” Joel could see that his brother was trying to focus on the situation at hand brought to him in the middle of the night, trying to think on so little sleep and energy.

“Tommy!”

“Maybe the cemetery?”

“The council needs to hold thar girl responsible. She should have to go on Olive’s patrols until she’s healed. I mean it, Tommy. I want it done.” Joel gently guided Ellie to the couch, urging her to sit down so he could wrap the throw blanket on the back of it over her. He moved into the kitchen and started a kettle for a cup of tea. Something soothing for her to find sleep easier.

“Joel, I know you’re upset. But Millie’s never been beyond the gates. Her entire family has been here since the walls went up.”

“And that’s why she feels entitled to act the way she does. Slinging insults and making fun of Olive, holding things against the woman like it’s her fault that despite the walls there are still very real threats out there. Not every one of them is avoidable. She needs to learn somethin’ and she needs to do it quick.”

“I can talk to Maria about it, but yeah, you have my word she’ll be put on patrol. Are they okay though?”

“I can’t say much for Millie, but Ellie said Olive pulled her stitches ‘n I gotta go out and find her.” The kettle began to whistle, and Tommy took over on making tea for himself and his niece.

“Then go find her, make sure she’s alright.”

Joel tried to tamp down his anger as he knocked on the front door. It was a momentary stop on his way to where Tommy suggested. The weather had calmed down, but not enough to make it an easy trek. The winds were still howling, though they weren’t nearly as devastating as earlier, snow floating down in soft waves.

“Joel? Oh, it’s so late, is everything okay?”

“I told you I wasn’t playin’ games with you.” He didn’t try and tamp down the frustration in his voice, it needed an outlet and the woman in front of him was a worthy for it. He cut off her startled question.

“Your daughter instigated a fight with Olive tonight. Called her names for the whole town to hear. Raised her hand and physically accosted her. That your best attempt at helping to ease the tension you’ve caused? That how you think people should be treated after spending hours to ensure everyone in town got breakfast in the midst of a blizzard?”

“Joel, Olive hit first. I’m sure of it.” She moved away from the door, from the bulk of him to shove her hands into a thick jacket and her feet into a pair of boots. Joel slammed his hand on the door frame, anger flaring at the woman’s nonchalance toward you.

“It doesn’t matter! Do you have any idea the torment you’ve caused her over the years? Millie is lucky Olive walked off. Talking to her and approaching her like that unprovoked. Olive was just defending herself. She was minding her own damn business like she always does!”

“Joel, do not raise your-“

“I’ll raise my voice when I damn well want to! You need to hear me and listen: both of your little stunts resulted in Millie going on the roster. She’s Olive’s replacement on my morning patrols now. To ensure she learns just how much of a responsibility it is to protect the settlement and deter her from further disrespect to those that go outside the gates every single day to protect this town.”

“No, no she can’t go outside the walls. She-“ The woman’s hands grappled his arm, desperation making her forget everything else in that moment.

“She will learn that there is more to living in a broken world than hurtful gossip and petty vendettas. Take it up with the council, but they’ve made their decision. Olive is missing. Your daughter is at the infirmary.”

He stalked off, not willing to wait around to hear what other nonsense the woman had to say. He had to find you, You hadn’t gone to his brother’s, which he would’ve thought to be the obvious answer. You hadn’t gone to his, of course maybe you would’ve before this morning. His body aching from sitting on your small stoop waiting for your return only to go there for a moment to find it dark and empty. The winds whipped around him, snow blinding and chilling when flakes got stuck on his eyelashes and in his scruff.  

He needed to tell you. He needed to tell you that he’d pick you over everyone in the whole damn settlement if you’d have him. But first he needed to make sure you were okay in order to do that.

Everything was so fuzzy, the edges of your vision fading. The bright snow all around the streets, falling from the sky, it hurt to look at. It hurt to keep your eyes open, but you did as best you could as you clutched to your bleeding middle and stumbled down empty streets. Blood was warm between your fingers, against your palm. The stitches put in place a few days ago now pulled from your skin and tearing even more damage across the wound there.

It wasn’t cold anymore, not by the time you had made it through the creaking iron gate and settled in front of a headstone. Everything was numb and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up as you realized.

The look of shock on Millie’s face shouldn’t be funny, it was sad. That no one had ever given her a taste of her own medicine. You didn’t hold anything against her, it wasn’t in your nature. But you wouldn’t say you liked her, that part of you had died along with Aiden. You had tried to continue to be her friend after everything, that fateful patrol. But she had pushed you away, had been quiet and reserved in her grief.

Until she hadn’t. She had shifted to harsh glares and sharp words. Basically heading the town to lay the blame on you. Her mother dutifully at her side. But you didn’t fault them. You knew loss was hard long before they had. You knew that it twisted people up inside and made it hard to feel okay. But you had never taken it out on anyone, instead closing in on yourself. But that had backfired, turned into a spectacle at the bar amid most of the town’s older occupants. Entertainment for them. More ammo for gossip and hurtful words.

In trying to ignore them, you had made it worse. Of course you had.

You lay slumped against the headstone, consciousness wavering as the wind pressed you into it. The snow began to settle over your legs and in your loose hair. Hat and scarf left behind in your rush to get out of that damn bar. You don’t know how long you laid there, pressing your face into the headstone, tears falling from your eyes and stinging as they froze on your cheeks, on your lashes, around your puffy eyes. Coughing, you felt the warmth of a thick liquid and taste of metal as blood splattered over the name etched into the stone.

You were tired, exhausted. Your body no longer hurt and it was a relief to be without the low thrum of anxiety, the smoldering heartbreak in the shape of broad man weighing down your chest, the ache in your hands from hours of chopping and stirring and mixing, the swelling in your legs from standing for hours everyday to prepare meals for people who couldn’t care less about you. It was all gone and it was a relief.

You tried to peel your eyes open, but they were so heavy. Unseeing when you managed to, it was so dark around you. There was no way it should be that dark in the late hour with the snow blanketing the town and the sky swathed in snow clouds. But it was and it didn’t bother you. You didn’t want to see anything anyway. Not when you closed your eyes against the darkness, you saw a soft smile tugging at plush lips that had felt good against your own below a pair of sparkling brown eyes. You saw Joel Miller and that was good enough.

You weren’t aware of the darkness being a shadow falling over you, a body dropping to its knees as it spotted you on the ground. You weren’t aware of the shout of your name, your actual name, nothing breaking the unconsciousness you had succumbed to. Joel was frantic, his hands hovering over you as he worried touching you would cause more damage. The blood shining on dark on your lips, the sallow complexion of your skin, the hand that had been pressing to your stained and wet middle limp in your lap. All of it was too much and his heart felt like it was humming in his chest as it beat in time with memories of loss and pain flashing before his eyes.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t lose you too. Not now, not like this.

Ignoring his worry, pushing it down, he scooped you up into his arms. The fact that you didn’t startle awake or shout out in pain at the movement didn’t sit well with him, his stomach dropped and his head pounded as he realized how cold you were to the touch, how limp you were. He gritted his teeth against the biting wind, the snow flying all around and began to move through the headstones.

“I made you one.” He croaked. “I made them all for you. All of them, every single one” His hands were warm, cradling you close, trying to tamp down the bleeding from your middle as he walked. “C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.”

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[starlightiing]

Landoscar 🖤 for the kissing thing 🙏😘 absolutely adore ur writing

-rubywings

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation - Landoscar

@rubywingsracing

Sorry this took so long, I have been actively fighting my brain in a 1v1 WWE smackdown or something like that. I hope this is okay <3 And thank you so much, I'm so glad you like my fics!! <333 I decided since I probably won't ever write this fic as a whole, I'd at least get a snippet out of the 'Young Forever' idea. Based on THIS SONG by the ready set. specifically the lines 'the beat of the drums keeps us alive' / 'tonight will last forever 'till our bodies drop' Basic info: music keeps them alive. If the music stops for one of them, it's tied into their heartbeat and so their heart will stop in tandem. They need to be around speakers playing music or have headphones in playing music at all times or they die.

"It stopped. It - It stopped." Lando's voice is so desperate and tiny, his breaths following in short, staccato bursts that sound almost deafening to Oscar's ears. The fear written into Lando's features would be enough to break anyone's heart.

It completely shatters Oscar's.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Oscar soothes, reaching out to place a gentle hand against Lando's cheek. Lando's skin is warm and buzzing, an electricity that Oscar can feel tingling in the tips of his fingers, running along highways of veins and capillaries until it reaches his heart. "It was only for a second. Nothing bad happened to me."

Lando shakes his head feverishly, curls bouncing every which way. Oscar watches as Lando's throat constricts, the flutter of his carotid pulse all too obvious in the hollow space between his collarbones. His heartbeat is fast, almost too fast, and it makes something unpleasant stir in Oscar's own chest. Seeing Lando like this is far more devastating than he ever could have imagined.

"It stopped. The music stopped." Lando says again, more incessantly, as his wide eyes come to rest in a deadlock with Oscar's gaze. "Your heart-"

"Didn't stop." Oscar finishes helpfully, unwilling to let the vicious storm of 'what ifs' and 'could haves' take Lando away from him. "It's still going. See?"

Oscar slides his hand down from Lando's cheek and uses it to instead grab one of Lando's trembling wrists. Delicately, he brings Lando's hand up to rest on his own chest, pressing the palm in against the curve of his sternum where his heart is beating at a steady, strong pace.

He knows the moment Lando feels his heartbeat, because those beautiful eyes, those goddamn eyes he loves so much, fill to the brim with tears.

"Oh, fuck." Lando gasps out, his voice trembling far worse than his hands. Oscar swallows thickly, watching the series of complex emotions that flicker across Lando's face. "Oscar. Fuck."

"It's okay," Oscar whispers, leaning in to press their foreheads together. Lando's fingers have curled up protectively in the space above Oscar's heart, almost as if he's trying to claw into Oscar's chest. "I'm here."

The hitch in Lando's breath makes Oscar's stomach churn. Tears begin to slip down Lando's cheeks - slowly, not in abundance, and Oscar wishes he could snap his fingers and take Lando's pain and fear away. He knows if the roles could reverse, he would be just as scared to have nearly lost Lando like that. To be milliseconds away from losing his sunlight, his moonlight, his starlight? Perhaps he would be even less composed. Perhaps he would not be composed at all.

"I love you." Lando says, before leaning and pressing his lips desperately against Oscar's. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, tiling his head as he kisses Lando back just as desperately, like this is his lifeline and not the godforsaken music that forces his heart to keep on beating.

"I love you too." Oscar utters softly against Lando's lips as they break apart. "So much. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"Okay."

If Lando turns the music up in his headphones later that night, Oscar doesn't say a word.

[baddawg94]

WWF Smackdown

9/13/2001

Compaq Center

Houston, TX

[aaronpullinteeth]

JUST BRINGING IT! - WWE SMACKDOWN! JUST BRING IT - Ep9

Something about the aroma of my food preparation...

New episode of WWE Smackdown Just Bring It

[heart4reigns]

DRAGGED, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, kayfabe, bitch (y/n) alert!!

tags: austin theory trying to flirt, kissing, paul heyman being annoying, just pure agony between these two losers, pet names

summary: it's not an act, she's just a bitch

TURNING heel was definitely a career-defining moment for you. it was easier for you to be portrayed as the 'bad guy' in this industry. it made people think that you are, in fact, a bitch in real life–which was true. that helped people stray away from you. you were untouchable. no one dared to cross your path. people backstage remembered the 'austin theory' incident.

he thought you were only unapproachable on stage, but you were still the same after the camera stopped rolling. the male-wrestler decided it was a good idea to ask for your phone number and flirted a bit with you, in front of the crew, of course. things took a turn when you didn't say anything and just walked away. to say the least after that day, you were the talk of the town and no one bothered you.

after showing your face on tv, you went backstage in a hurrying matter–wanting to go home as fast as you could. you thanked god that the hallway to the parking lot was empty–so you thought–as you spotted a certain man in a suit. it was none other than paul heyman. of course he was there, he was everywhere.

you hated the entire bloodline (with an exception of solo and the twins) which leaves only paul and roman. they were insufferable. "hey, new girl." he greeted you. "what do you want?" your tone was cold. "you did great out there, you have so much potential." you only nodded in response. "is that all?" his eyes widened in surprise.

paul confirmed it himself that the rumors were true, you were hard to crack. "i'm interested in your future, you know, the draft is happening in a few days. you heard about it?" "yeah, and?" you knew he was a higher up in the board, but you couldn't careless. you were tired and you wanted to go home. "'if that's all, i'll be going home." without waiting for his answer, you went outside.

after hearing your footsteps fade away, paul immediately pulled out his phone and made the call. "hello, yes, you'd love her."

the next following days were somehow boring; you couldn't careless about the draft happening, you knew you were always going to be with the blue brand.

to say the least, the backstage was crowded with people. you passed crews doing their own job, like usual. wardrobe passed the iconic blue shirt that they were bringing back since the 2000s. "now we have to wear this thing again?" you raised an eyebrow at the staff. "y- yes. the boss asked us to bring it back." you sighed in agony. "okay." was all that came out of your mouth.

you sat at the very back, not wanting to gain attention from anyone. but like a diamond in a sea of blood, you stood out. one by one, the stars entered the room, you spotted your coworkers, only nodding at them when they greeted you. and there he was.

the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns. you've never interacted with him or even spared a glance at him. he had this aura that you hated. he was just as dominant as you were. people were intimidated by his position and the power he had. he just had to sit right next to you.

he was alone. what a rare sight. the twins were two rows in front of you. so it was quite strange for the tribal chief himself to not sit in front, gaining everyone's attention. but then again, you couldn't careless. you could feel his eyes on you. "what do you want?" you asked, each word laced with ice. he didn't respond. "then stop staring at me, we're rolling in 5."

the draft started and everyone got into character. not you though, you were still the same. you saw triple h, speaking to the microphone. "this first pick, goes to smackdown, and they select... all four drafted as one. paul heyman, solo sikoa, the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns. and the lone wolf, (y/n) (l/n). the bloodline!" the camera panned to the two of you as you heard people in the room gasping. "what the f–"

and things went downhill after that.

the cameras stopped rolling and you didn't know what to do. your entire career path was a mess. no one said anything to you about being drafted with the bloodline. the last thing you remembered before you were dragged into a meeting room was that smug look plastered on roman's face. as soon as the door closed, leaving 6 people–including you, alone, hell broke loose. "what the fuck is this about?" you raised your voice.

"listen, (y/n)." paul was the first one to speak up. "no, you listen to me you little shit. i was doing fine alone, now i am dragged into this bullshit family drama without me knowing? what the fuck happened to diplomacy?" you furrowed your eyebrows. solo, jey, and jimmy were speechless. people would kill to be in the bloodline. "you just had to drag me into this mess that i don't want. i would prefer to be drafted to raw for fuck's sake."

"leave." a word came out of roman's mouth, instructing the other 5 to leave the room and they did. this was the very first time you were left alone with the tribal chief himself. the room was quiet, tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. "if you think i am scared of you, you're wrong." you barked at him. "calm down, babygirl." the black-haired man chuckled. "do not fucking call me babygirl, i have a name."

you didn't know what was going on in the minds of the creative board, but you didn't like it. "if you stop being a hot-headed babygirl, we can talk terms." he said. "then fucking explain it! i was doing so good alone, roman. i don't even know you." you continued. "it was my idea to include you in the bloodline." he paused for a second to stare at you.

"paul saw your potential and i watched your match against bayley. this entire lone wolf act, you fit right in." "well, it's not an act. i work alone." you glared at him, trying to fight back. "fuck you, i don't want to see you." he leaned in closer and grabbed your chin. "babygirl," roman paused for a second, not breaking eye-contact. "i'm not going anywhere." oh it was so on for the two of you.

the first match was in 2 weeks. it was already stressful enough for you to train with the bloodline. you arrived at their usual gym, still pissed off by the fact that you weren't going to train alone. "hey, (y/n)!" jimmy greeted you with a smile. you nodded in response and went straight to the ring.

roman was standing there with a clipboard in his hands, scribbling something down. "you're late." he said, not looking at you. "blame my uber." paul entered the ring with the twins and solo. "so i just got word from creatives that they're going to push the two of you," paul paused for a second to point at you and roman. "into a tag team."

just when you thought things couldn't get worse than before, it did. "you gotta be shitting me." you cursed out. the smug look came back once again. "they're putting you up in a match with sami and kevin." the four wrestlers chuckled. "this is so funny." jey chuckled. "oh they're going to love it." paul added.

the training started and surprisingly, the chemistry between roman and you were unmatchable. you never doubted him and his strength and the same goes to him. "punch him as the last move." you suggested, scribbling down some additional notes. "and you'll flip owens over the ropes." he knew exactly what you were thinking about. "right." then again, you were kind of surprised how well the two of you were in-sync.

training ended, leaving only you and roman in the gym. the others left as they didn't have anything to do. you hated the fact that the two of you were a match. "you did great, babygirl." he said, taking off his gloves. "call me 'babygirl' one more time and i'll knock you out without any hesitation." you stared at him. roman chuckled darkly. that was kinda hot, you thought. "i'm leaving."

"no, you're going to eat with me." "and what if i say no?" you raised an eyebrow. "i'm going to kiss you on live television." this man was getting on your nerves. "if you do that, i'm actually going to fucking kill you." and there you were, in his car, eating your feelings away. you hated this. you hated the fact that you were under his control.

you didn't want him to actually kiss you on live television, it could damage your cold image. "are you always this hard to deal with, sweetheart?" he asked you, taking a bite of him fries. "are you always this fucking annoying to women?" "only to you, baby." you groaned in frustration. "why do you work alone?" questions kept coming from him. "because i don't like people."

"but you'll like me soon." like hell i would, you thought. sure he was handsome, everyone wanted to be with him, but his ego was triple the size of his achievements. “you know, you were once a men’s locker room topic.” you furrowed your eyebrows. “what does that supposed to mean?” you took a sip of your drink. “the guys had a bet on who could have your number first. i didn’t participate because it was pretty dumb.” roman chuckled at the memory.

“i’m not something to bet on.” you defended yourself. “i know, that’s why i told them to call it off. but some of them, not naming any names, didn’t listen.” you had flashbacks of the austin theory incident. “god, people are so fucking dumb sometimes.” it was the first time that he heard you laugh. “sorry, i just hate it when people think that they can easily break me by flirting with me and all. it doesn’t work like that for me.”

“so what works for you?” he asked. “nothing works for me, i’m here to get paid. not flirt with people and be a trophy that men can just carry around.” your answer made his eyes softer than before. “don’t fucking cry on me now, big boy. i don’t need empathy.” you barked. still, the toughest one out there, he thought. “anyways, paul asked about what do you wanna do to gain attention for our match?” he stirred the conversation to work stuff.

“i don’t know, don’t need anything, people will either boo at me or they’ll praise the ground i walk on. what do you wanna do?” you returned the question. “let me kiss you.” that sentence made you choke on air. “be fucking for real, roman.” you stared at him. “i’m serious, babygirl. imagine the views, the engagements, the talk. you said you wanted a great match? i’ll give you a great match.” you were not going to kiss this hot man for the sake of views. “not going to fucking happen.” “trust me, i’m a good kisser. and i know you’re attracted to me.”

the booking decision went viral on social media. it was shocking news to everyone. you grew okay to working with the bloodline, you were able to tolerate all their antics including roman’s flirty nature. d-day came and you were ecstatic for it.

the locker room was filled with excitement. "LET'S GO, LET'S GOOOOO!" the twins were pumping with adrenaline. "WE'RE GOING TO EAT SHIT UP TODAY!" jey said. "jesus, calm down would you?" you rolled your eyes at him. "NO I CANNOT CALM DOWN, THIS IS D-DAY!" he was bumping his chest with sami. the locker room's excitement quickly died down as one of the staffs called in for you and roman.

the choreography worked out well for the 4 of you. countless practices and you were ready to go. "let's go." roman said, dragging you out to the hallway. "i can walk on my own, big dog." he smirked. "not in my world." roman was practically holding your hand. "it's good for the act." he assured you. what act? you just want to get it with me, you thought.

"for the first time ever, the undisputed wwe universal champion and the lone wolf in a tag team match against sami zayn and kevin owens, this is history!" the announcer yelled. walking down to the ring was painful for you as roman kept holding your hand. you kept a straight face along the way, hoping that he would drop your hand soon, but he didn't.

the match started and it was going well, until kevin accidentally tripped and landed on you. you clenched your teeth in pain. this is why you didn't like working with people. you pulled through and there was only one move left. roman's eyes was filled with concern but you gave him a quick nod and flipped kevin over the ropes. "and your here are your winners for the tag team match, the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns and the lone wolf, (y/n) (l/n)!" he looked at you with a huge smirk plastered on his face.

oh shit, you thought. he was going to do it. "you are not going to kiss me!" you shook your head in panic.

there you were, standing still, while he kissed your lips. the entire crowd went wild. you know what? fuck it, for the views, you thought. you responded to the kiss and left him in shock. "what? cat got your tongue?" you lifted his hand up, acknowledging your victories. "i'm going to give you hell for this." you mouthed at him. "look at them, the lovebirds! that should be their tag team name!”

the locker room atmosphere was unbeatable. everyone was praising you for your moves. "(y/n), that was amazing!" kevin greeted you with a smile. "i'm sorry i kinda botched the last move, i wasn't very careful." he apologized. "yeah, we're good. although it hurts like a bitch but that's life." kevin still felt bad. "dude, chill. now go away and get some rest." you assured him that you were going to be okay.

roman came back to the locker room, after being the last one to exit the ring. that was a long ass outro, you thought. "babygirl, you did so good." a shiver ran down your spine. "of course i did." you took off your gloves. "you're a good wrestler and an even better kisser." your cheeks flushed. "why the fuck did you do that?" "because i wanted to."

"you could've just asked." you were challenging him. "so, can i get a kiss now?" he raised an eyebrow. "no." you barked at him. "i always get what i want." the cocky tone made you agitate. "you know what? fuck it." you stood up from your seat and leaned closer to him. it caught him off-guard as you placed your lips on his. the locker room cheered as they saw you provoking the tribal chief himself. "you got what you wanted, now i want something in return. i want you to take me on a proper date so you can get a proper kiss."

[devileaterjaek]

WWF Smackdown! Just Bring It (PS2) Join our community on //Discord// Support me on //Ko-Fi//

[muffin-man-marq-lynch]

I keep seeing people trying to help others get into AEW TV shows when they're trying to figure out which to watch, and it's always a variation on the same thing:

"So Dynamite's the Main Show, a Wednesday version of Monday Night Raw, the prestige title. Two hours of all the biggest storylines and names, and if you want more story than pure ring focus that's your spot. If you only watch one show that's the one."

"So then your Friday Night Smackdown is Friday night's Rampage?"

"Nah, it's Collision!"

This is where I see the break down. There is a universal (correct) agreement that Rampage is a fun, optional, one-hour palate cleanser, and Collision is the #2 Show in the company. But this is where comparison with the WWE kills us: Rampage isn't just 'the workrate show'. It isn't Smackdown, but it's fun for tag teams and other matches and has its own vibe. But Collision? Collision is another level.

Collision got pitched to me as 'the show where AEW has the less prestigious younger talent practice and work their way up the card' and Oh Man that may be Technically True but does that Feel Incorrect.

The vibe Collision gives me more than anything is 'Love Letter to the Golden Age of Saturday Morning Cartoons'. I mean the era after we've evolved past cheap product placements like G.I.Joe and Transformers.

I'm talking X-Men '97, Thundercats, Gargoyles, Johnny Bravo, and of course: Batman the Animated Series. The shows where the colors are bright and fun and engaging, things move smooth and quickly and you have to pay attention to keep up, the characters are all a bit too over the top and larger than life, but things still get complex, dark, and violent Real Quick. No one will question the mood when Danhausen shows up to curse people every so often, and I tune in every Saturday because it's Nigel o'clock: time for him to run two hours of commentary gloriously simping for his favorite heels, make Shiavone's and the TV censors lives hell, and ultimately bring everything back to the framed image of Bryan Danielson he strokes on his pillow at night to remind himself of how ugly he is.

The entire show's vibe is summed up in the character of Christian Cage: a lone black turtleneck in a colorful sea, spouting diatribes that are always 12% more emotionally devastating and fucked up than expected to his gaslit dinosaur son while Nigel McGuiness composes odes to his biceps.

Also sometimes there are matches that are real fun.

You should watch Collision.

[saintmagx]

✨ Cruel Summer ✨

pairing: Solo Sikoa x reader, Jey Uso x reader (briefly)

AN: Literally making this for myself, so if I do ever end up publishing - enjoy I guess? 🤪

w/c: 1198

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity(if you squint), jealous Jey, toxic behaviour, bad/embarrassing writing ⚠️

doesn’t follow a specific timeline however it is more recent, total divas making a return.

✨ I love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard - he looks up grinning like the devil ✨

• ❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

“I dunno Trin, the thought of being recorded for 12 hours of the day, like, I enjoy my privacy”.

“Think about it as an opportunity, having the fans see a different side of you. Showing them how hard you work your ass off.”

Trinity is my best friend, she helped me out so much when I joined the WWE 6 years ago. She and her husband Jon took me into their family and helped me adapt into the crazy world of being a WWE superstar.

“Just think about it is all I’m saying. It’ll be fun” trin says nudging me.

Ever since I moved here, we have had a weekly tradition of Wednesday Girls Night, its just snacks, Chinese takeout, and movies, it’s just time for us to catch up and wind down from the gruelling travel schedule.

Right on queue at exactly 11:30pm Jon walks in the door.

“Times up ladies” he says, which is swiftly followed by two pillows being thrown at his head.

“Come on uce, you know better than to interrupt gIrLs NiGhT”

The couch beside me dipped and once again I felt the heat from the body of Josh Fatu, my one weakness. His hand falls to his side and creeps closer to me caressing the side of my bare thigh. You see what people don’t know is Josh and I have an ‘agreement’ - no feelings, just sex and friendship, and it was going great until it wasn’t, feeling were caught, specifically by me and I’m stuck between a rock and hard place as I’m falling hard for him, but I cant let this agreement end because I would rather have him this way than not have him at all.

“Spoke with Joe today, Hunter is bringing him up to the main roster, can’t wait to have my other younger brother fighting by my side”. A third pillow is thrown at Jon from the direction of Josh.

“We are twins, and you are only older by 8 minutes”.

Never a dull moment where the Fatu boys are concerned.

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First day of filming (TD Interview Segment)

Okay, so lets start with a basic intro okay? Ready, go!

The room falls silent the light shines bright on me, I have at least 6 pair of eyes on me, goading me into starting. Gosh why did I sign up to do this!!!

Hi there, my names yn, I am currently on the Smackdown roster and I am the current WWE Women’s Champion.

I’ve been with the WWE for 6 years now and I wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my adoptive sister Trinity, she took me under her wing and I’ve been there ever since. As you guys know – and if you didn't know, the accent should be a huge giveaway, I’m originally from the United Kingdom, I came to the states with a dream in hand and no one there to help me through this bumpy ride. I can never repay her or Jon for the way they have accepted and welcomed me into their little dynamic. Although, travelling the world with Jon and Josh is hard work, they boys are chaotic, I don't know how Trin managed to do it herself for so long!

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Friday Night Smackdown, Atlanta Georgia, 8 weeks before Survivor Series

Walking into the arena for Smackdown I get a message from Hunter asking to meet him in his office. A mixture of anxiety and curiosity fill in the pit of my stomach. In his office I’m met with the familiar faces of Jon, Josh, and Joseph, smiling I look over to Hunter who invites me to sit.

“I got your message, what’s up?

“We have been toying with the idea of a cross brand rivalry - for Survivor Series. Now that Joe has come up to the main roster, we think the Usos and Solo v The Judgement Day would pique interest from the WWE universe.”

“So why am I here?”

“Demi is the Women’s World Champion and part of Judgment Day; it would only seem right that she faces the Women’s Champion”.

Without hesitation I accept. Hunter debriefs us on how it’s going to play out over the next few weeks. We will have to be on both RAW and Smackdown over the next few weeks, so looks like it will be me and the brothers travelling together since Trin is exclusive to Smackdown!

Gorilla, few hours later (TD segment)

Tonight, I have a singles match, however Demi has to interfere and cost me the match – thus starting our road to Survivor Series.

I see Hunter in his usual place over at the screens with his headset on talking to Randy Orton, Randy spots me and immediately comes over to me.

“There’s my favourite girl.”

“I wouldn’t let your wife hear you say that Randy”.

Randy Orton, he is exactly how you would imagine him to be, a cocky little shit, flirtatious as hell, a menace but he has a heart of gold. Many nights we would hit the gym together and training with him before his injury really improved my in-ring ability. He is another one I would call my family away from family.

A familiar scent fills my nostrils, Josh. He stands next to me wrapping his arm around me pulling me closer, as if to stake his claim in me.

“I’ve been looking for you, come on let’s go”.

I smile apologetically at Randy, he just waves me off laughing, as much as I say people don’t know anything about me and Josh, it’s not to say there isn’t rumours flying around, people have their own take on it, and that’s okay, we just laugh it off.

Trin and Jon (TD Interview segment)

“You see yn and josh think they are so slick hiding their little late-night rendezvous” says Jon

Trin sighing, “I just wish they would bang their heads together and realise they are meant to be. Think of the double dates we could finally have Jon.”

Jon’s laugh fills the small interview room, “yeah it would be sweet, and yn is already like family, it would be an easy transition.”

Away from the cameras

“What were you talking to Randy about?” Josh quizzes

“Nothing, you came in and ushered me away before I could say anything.”

“Good, I don’t like it when you get attention from other guys, just me, okay?”

“I think you’ll find Josh that I can speak to who I like”. I say frustrated with his behaviour.

You see as much as I love Josh, this, this right here the way he wants to have his cake and eat it too drives me insane. I so much as look at another guy and he is right there to remind me I’m his, yet he can look at and speak to as many girls and I can’t say shit.

“I’ve got a match to get to, I’ll see you later J.”

“Goodluck out there baby girl, not that you need it.” Before he can come any closer to me, I slip out the room and let my frustrated sigh out. How much longer am I going to keep torturing myself.  

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[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're The Only Girl for Me- Chapter 6

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

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Kayla Braxton stared at the latest update from an Instagram page called TheUsos_Source.  She honestly couldn’t believe what she was reading. Josh took Airielle on a date? Airielle had willingly gone out on a date with Josh after everything Kayla had told her? 

Kayla went to Airielle’s instagram and clicked on her story, immediately feeling sick once she saw the flowers Airielle had posted. So just fuck girl code right? Kayla gritted her teeth as she rolled her eyes and threw her phone down on the bed next to her.

December 11th 2020

AIRIELLE JONES

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Airielle was on cloud nine. It had been 18 days since her first kiss with Josh while they weren’t officially boyfriend and girlfriend yet, they sure did act like it. No matter where they went, he always made sure to bring her flowers, whether they were going to the gym together or to the grocery store, he always bought flowers. She hung out with him at Trin and Jon’s house when they weren’t in Orlando for Smackdown- much to Yasmine’s dismay. He had wanted to spend Thanksgiving together but she declined. She was not ready to meet his family. She had thought that he was upset but he told her he understood and that she definitely had to come to Christmas dinner. 

Airielle groaned as she hit another dead end in the arena. The WWE had moved from the Amway center to Tropicana Field and Airielle was having a hard time finding her way, she kept getting turned around. Josh had asked her to meet him in catering for lunch but she was lost. She pulled out her phone to text him. He told her to send him her location and he would come find her. She huffed as she jumped up on one of the nearby equipment boxes and pulled out her phone so she could scroll on instagram. 

“Hi.” She jumped startled by the voice. “I aint mean to scare you.” He said smiling before holding out his hand to her. “I’m Raymond. I don’t think we’ve met.” When she didn’t shake his hand he added “I work in production, that’s probably why you never seen me before. I’m normally out in the truck.” Airielle nodded before grasping his hand and shaking it. 

“Airielle Jones.” 

“I know who you are. Talk of the town.” She frowned and arched her eyebrow at him. 

“Excuse me? He looked down at their still connected hands and grinned as she snatched her hand out of his. 

“Yo Rih, you good?” Airielle smiled over at Josh and hopped off the equipment box and walked over to him. Raymond noticed Josh’s hostile tone and raised his hands up defensively. 

“Relax, homie. I was just introducing myself.” Josh bit the inside of his cheek as he glared over at Raymond. He 100 percent didn’t like this man and Raymond knew that. Airielle glazed between the two of them before grabbing Josh’s hand, breaking their staring contest. 

“You good?” He asked again, his eyes softening once his gaze fell on her. 

“She good Uce, relax.” Josh glared back over at Raymond and sucked his teeth. 

“The fuck you still doin’ here?”  Raymond chuckled before, turning and walking away from them. When Josh turned his attention back to Airielle she was looking at him with a disappointed expression. “Sorry” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t like him, never did” 

Airielle rolled her eyes with a grin. “Come on,” She said, grabbing his hand again. She started to walk but then stopped and turned towards him. “I don’t know where I’m going.” He laughed before leading her towards catering. 

After eating lunch with Josh and Joe, Airielle decided to go to hair and make-up to get ready for Smackdown. She smiled at Kayla who was also getting her makeup done. The smile quickly vanished off of her face when Kayla glared back at her. Airielle knew that Kayla must’ve seen the instagram posts. But honestly, Airielle didn’t care, Josh and even Kayla herself had said that they weren’t dating, just fucking around, so technically Kayla had no reason to be upset with Airielle. 

The air was tense and Kayla’s muttering wasn’t making it any better. Airielle couldn’t hear her but with how Jenny- the hairstylist kept looking at her, Airielle knew Kayla was talking mad shit. Once Kayla had left the area, Jenny turned towards Airielle. 

“What the hell happened?” Airielle shook her head, not wanting to gossip. 

“I don’t know.” Jenny scoffed.

 “I mean, we all seen the instagram account. You do know Kayla and Jey were a thing before you got here?”  Airielle took a deep breath and closed her eyes, this Jenny chick was starting to get on her nerves. 

“They both said that it was just sex between them.” Airielle shrugged, she felt like she did nothing wrong by going out on a date with Josh. 

“And you don’t feel bad?” Jenny scoffed again and Airielle narrowed her eyes at her. 

“Leave the girl alone Jen, ” Laura, the make-up artist said and Airielle gave her a small smile thinking that the older woman was on her side. “She’s young and he probably tricked her.” Airielle abruptly stood up from the chair and walked off, officially done with those ladies and that conversation. 

“Fuck her” Yasmine spat over the Facetime call. “That bitch lucky I aint there.” Yasmine continued. Airielle sighed but said nothing. That interaction had rubbed her the wrong way and she needed someone to talk to. She wanted to talk to Josh but she knew that he was busy getting ready for the show and she didn’t want to burden him with unnecessary drama. 

“You can’t fight my coworkers.” Airielle said laughing lightly. “I mean should I feel bad?” Yasmine immediately shook her head. 

“No, and I mean it, don’t go back in there trying to be her friend Airielle. She’s weird as hell.” Airielle signed and tol Yasmine that she would call her back as she was driving back to Pensacola after the show. 

Walking back into the arena, Airielle felt like everyone was staring at her, it was weird she walked past a group of girls and they immediately stopped talking, letting Airielle know they were talking about her. Rolling her eyes she went about her business, getting her script for her segment with Kevin Owens, as she was walking towards the viewing area to watch the beginning of the show, Airielle literally bumped right into Kayla,  the latter of the two rolling her eyes and grunting in annoyance.  Airielle quickly apologized before trying to walk around her but Kayla moved in the same direction she did. 

“I trusted you.” Kayla said and Airielle furrowed her eyebrows together. 

“What?”  Kayla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You used me to get close to Jey, I told you how i felt about him and you just said fuck me.” Airielle scoffed.

“No, I did not use you to get close to Josh. I would never do anything like that Kayla. You said y’all weren’t together. Yes, I do feel bad but, things happen, we hung out and I really like him Kayla, I’m sorry.” Kayla huffed and narrowed her eyes at Airielle before shaking her head and walking away. 

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

[newcaptainofsquad9]

The Lady’s Man~Becky Lynch x fem! reader

Pairing: Becky Lynch x reader

Genre: Romance, fluff

  Summary: After spending close time with Becky during your time as tag team duos, she starts to dress differently, something not only the fans pick up on but you along with Becky’s competition for the Smackdown Women’s championship too.

Writer’s Note: First and foremost, I’m sorry about not updating a certain fic yet (The Astrid, Crazy Rich Asians one. I’m still working on it!) or just writing a lot on here in general. Depression has its hooks sunk deep and work has been draining me more than usual but here I am. One of the things that has helped me lots is wrestling, haven’t watched it since I was a young teen and wow, it’s like interacting with an old friend again. One thing that I’ve also noticed is how much the women on the roster are hot and why I liked them so much. The gay awakening was real. Anyway, hope you enjoy my first wrestling fic!

Word Count: 1, 978

You were classy. If you were to partake in feuds or clap-backs, you kept it high-brow and let your skills in the ring do most of the talking. That was part of your character: Lady Y/N, here to bring back beauty and class to the WWE, an exhausting effort to get through with your in ring abilities instead of full on trash talking. That being said, you did have your moments where you popped off on the mic, especially when Damage Ctrl was involved. 

You came face to face with Bayley, Dakota Kai and Iyo Sky tonight; the people of the crowd roaring and chanting, “My Lady” once your music hit and you came strutting toward the ring.

“Aw, here she comes!” Bayley yelled. She pointed off around the crowd and continued to mouth off“Shut up! We’re the top ladies here you heathens.”

“Bayley, all this crying isn’t gonna get you anywhere,” you said. You entered the ring, smiling at the audience, waved and aimed a few kisses at the people, swooning them in the process. “Didn’t Becky and I beat Iyo and Dakota last week and didn’t you lose your championship to Charlotte at the Rumble last week?”

Bayley nodded eagerly, smile plastered on her face. 

“Yeah! Lady yeah! I did y/n! But who’s been a champion at all? Me! Not you! Some lady you are!” Bayley exclaimed while laughing and nodding to her Damage Ctrl sidekicks. “Maybe, if you’re nice to us tonight, I can bring you in the spotlight on my Ding Dong Hello show next week. Well, just you and not your man.”

You cocked up an eyebrow at the mention of “your man”, right when the WWE universe all “oooooed” all at once. It was some sort of joke you weren’t in on, yet you caught yourself with a sly grin and went back in on Bayley. 

“My man? You making up delusions now, huh, Ms. Role-model?” you said. 

Bayley scoffed then let out a snort while turning to Dakota and Iyo. The crowd seemed to react as well, chanting “The Man” over and over. 

Oh. Becky, that was who Bayley was referring to. She called herself the man, didn’t mean she was your “man.” Right? And Bayley is totally wrong, the WWE Universe did have their bright moments but they didn’t dictate who did or didn’t belong to you. Especially Becky Lynch. She was your friend and tag team partner. Period. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Please, you might be able to fool these idiots!” Bayley yelled. She gestured to the audience before continuing. “But you can’t fool me and the heart eyes she gives you! Have you even seen her new merch?”

Now you knew Bayley made up insults and material on the fly but you really had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could wrap your head around it or throw your own comment back at her, Becky’s music hit, sending the arena along with Damage Ctrl into a frenzy.

“Aww, now look who you’ve spawned!” Bayley groaned. “How dare you idiots speak of The Man!”

The combination of the loud music, the crowd and Bayley’s irritating yells swirled into a cacophony of noise that left you frozen while you watched your fiery headed partner (tag of course) rush out, all smiles and cockiness under her black shades. It’s like what Bayley alluded too, her outfit and merch was different: instead of wearing her flashy, “Bex” shirt underneath her leather jacket, Becky sported a new shirt with blocky letters reading “The Lady’s Man.” 

Your heart skipped a bit at the display; being around Becky was already complex, she just made it twenty times harder. She trotted down to you on your frozen spot in front of the ring, eyes obscured by her shades until she lifted them. 

“You called?” Becky asked. She aimed her words at Bayley and the entire WWE Universe, but it felt as if she was just talking to you. 

Becky stepped closer toward you, rearranged your hair a little before placing the shades on your head. 

“This Ok?” she asked. “Don’t want to mess up your hair, but I just couldn’t resist.” 

Her Irish accent always had an effect on you but how low it was when she whispered, with her gesture of the shades left you flabbergasted longer.

“Hey! Flirt on your own time!” Bayley said. She pointed at Becky, who chuckled. “This is between me and your Lady!”

“Woah, woah, woah! You know Y/N and I are a team, like you and your Ctrl clique,” Becky explained. She brought an arm around your shoulder, patting the spot in an attempt to bring you back from your stump. “The Man always defends her lady. Dare I say, she’s got a better chance at Charlotte for the Smackdown women’s championship than you!” 

Becky’s words got your chest to flare; you nodded along however, smiling a bit too big as words of your own bubbled up from your throat. 

“The Man’s got a valid point though, what do you say, Role-model?” you said. 

Bayley guffawed. 

“Sure! Yeah right, like she would--” Bayley said. She was cut off by the crowd chanting your name over and over, angering her yet again. “Shut up! You idiots don’t know anything! Y/N can’t even compete with Dakota or Iyo, let alone me!”

Becky cocked her head back, as if her fellow horsewoman’s words struck her face on. She turned toward you, mouthing a “can you believe this?” You just rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

“Bayley, keep spouting this nonsense and maybe I’ll have to kick your ass again,” Becky said. She brought you closer, close enough to hook her arm around your waist. “Or! We could take care of Kai and Iyo and they can defend those tag titles for once! Jeez! Those things have been collecting dust!” 

You found yourself smiling more as the heat built up your chest. Becky and you only teamed up due to being a great match against Fire and Desire, along with other amazing women in the division but to suggest you both challenge Damage Ctrl? It was a commitment to what you two could do together, although, it wasn’t as grand as Becky proclaiming herself “your man”, was it the direction Triple H wanted or was it something more?

“No way!” Bayley growled. “I mean, they’re the greatest bunch of the womens division they don’t need to prove a thing!”

Iyo Sky and Dakota nodded, a little too swiftly with conflicting emotions pouring through; you picked up on them immediately.

“You sure Bayley? They seem scared. Let’s ask them, folks! Iyo? Dakota?  Are you afraid to take on Becks and I? Maybe to even put the titles on the line too?”

The WWE Universe erupted in another fit of chants: you made it out to be them calling Damage Ctrl cowards over and over again. Becky chuckled and pulled you close while Iyo and Dakota went over what was going on with Bayley off mic. It looked as if Iyo and Dakota were trying to talk their leader out of it, you felt quite terrible for them and how the crowd began to drown them out with the noise.

“All right! Quiet you idiots!” Bayley shouted. She gestured for the WWE universe to calm down more, leaving mummers among the crowd and stands. “They’ll accept the challenge, next week!”

You didn’t expect them to accept so quick, believing them to think it over throughout the week or maybe go back and forth with Becky on Twitter(usually ending up with you mediating). 

“Yes!” Becky cheered. “We got this, lass.”

You could only nod, lost in the feeling of opportunity: white noise of the crowd and a tingling feeling that warped down your chest toward your belly. A title shot for the first time in your career, with Becky. Becky freaking Lynch. 

The thought kept up its constant ringing in your head, even after you escaped the effervescent noise the WWE universe were known to cause. You managed to reach your personal locker room before a hand grabbed your wrist--the action forced you to tense up, thinking it was Bayley or Damage Ctrl. 

“Whoa, lass, you all right?” Becky said. Concern clean on her face. “Is it OK if we talk?”

You nodded. Becky shut the door behind you, then proceeded to pace the space, back and forth like a blur of orange flame that flicked from one end of a candle to the next. 

“It wasn’t your idea, was it?” you said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

Becky froze, attention immediately on you. 

“What?”

You let out a humorless laugh and motioned to her new T-shirt. 

“The Lady’s Man? It was just a new way of introducing our tag team? Making it official, yeah? Or is it a new storyline that I’m not caught up with yet?” you asked. You pressed your fingers together and fidgeting them while continuing. “I-I just want to understand what all that was.”

“Lass--”

“Rebecca, please be honest with me,” you said. The emotion in your voice was sharp and firm.

Becky rushed over to you, taking your face in your hands. 

“Breathe, y/n, I’ll explain, let me just sit you down, OK?” she said. 

She led you to the folded chair you had set up by your cubby, helping you sit prior to her kneeling in front of you. 

“It was my idea, and yeah Triple H and the people wanted to market it, thought it’d be a great thing to lead up to something amazing to do with the Tag titles,” Becky explained. She took your hand as she spoke, rubbing the knuckles and the underside of a few veins. “But under all of the bravado and what The Man means to me, there’s some truth to it. I really want to try and be your lady too. I-I like you, Y/N, I really do.”

The way Becky looked up at you almost made the emotions break from you, tears flooded your eyes, some spilling over to your dismay. 

“Y/N, no, hun, don’t cry I--”

You cut Becky off with a kiss, meeting her halfway as your arms wrapped around her neck. Becky returned the kiss instantly, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. A mini makeout session just about occurred. You pulled back (a little self conscious that you both were still in the arena aka work) but Becky lifted your chin up tenderly, planting a short yet passionate kiss to your lips once again. 

“I love that desire, lass,” Becky whispered. “Does this mean we’re to be more than tag team champions in the future?”

You nodded. “That and we’ll have a lot more moments outside of Wrestlemania.” 

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you write a jimmy uso x reader with the recent events that went on with smackdown and him going to the hospital

yup!

jimmy uso x reader

tw : hospital (?), nothing bad in general



through hell with you

everything that was happening with the bloodline was happening way too fast for you. you saw your family falling into pieces and you couldn’t do nothing to stop it.

you weren’t a professional wrestler but you met jimmy and jey when you started working in the backstage of the wwe. the moment you met jimmy something sparkled between the two of you, anyone could feel it.

you started dating only a few weeks later and now, two years later you were married and living a happy life together. his family welcomed you with open arms and you couldn’t be more grateful.

when the whole bloodline thing started you were actually so happy to see them all together, they were a family and seeing them fighting together and having each other’s back made you happy. but things started to going down too fast for your liking and in a matter of time it was just jimmy and jey against the rest of the bloodline.

you didn’t want this to happen but you couldn’t do anything about it.

when jimmy and jey won at money in the bank you couldn’t contain your happiness, you knew what that meant for them.

but things got worse the week after, during smackdown, as jimmy got injured because of roman. you couldn’t believe your eyes, you were currently watching the show behind the scene and you knew the moment jimmy fell that he was hurt in a very bad way. you were used to his matches and his injuries but you’ve never saw him like that.

your heart missed a few beats and when you saw the ambulance ready in the backstage you knew it was really bad. you rushed out from the twins locker room and ran through the ambulance when you saw jimmy laid on the stretcher and jey running next to him.

“oh my…” you couldn’t even speak.

you rushed to his side and jey motioned for you to go with him at the hospital.

the ambulance ride was silent, filled with anxiety and worry.

“don’t worry baby, i’m here…” you whispered to jimmy. you knew he was awake but he wasn’t fully conscious so you didn’t know if he was hearing you or not but you kept talking to him anyway. even the nurse told you that you were doing a good job in supporting him.

“everything is going to be okay…you’re okay” you whispered once again, leaving a soft kiss over his hand. you quickly wiped the few tears that fell from your eyes, you were worried sick but you needed to be strong for jimmy and jey too, since he stayed back at the arena, you knew he was worried and he was waiting for any news on his twin.

once at the hospital, jimmy was brought to the examination room but you couldn’t go in so you stayed outside pacing around the waiting room. when the doctors left the room they didn’t tell you what was wrong with him but they told you that you could visit him if you wanted to.

you silently entered the room, not wanting to scare him or wake him up and sat next to the bed. he was awake and clearly in pain but the moment he saw you he smiled.

“hey…” he said, his voice cracking a bit.

“don’t talk baby…i’m here” you said grabbing his hand “i’m glad to see you awake…” you whispered, letting him know your fears.

“i’ll always wake up when i have you by my side…” he said making you tear up a little.

“you got us all worried…you know, if something happened to you i would have walked through hell and heaven just to find you and bring your ass back here” you joked making him laugh a little.

“that’s very nice of you” he sarcastically said still laughing. you noticed how tired he was and you didn’t want to be the reason he was keeping himself awake.

“you should sleep a bit…i’m not going anywhere…” you said to him. he nodded and closed his eyes.

you sent a quick text to jey, knowing how much worried he was.

jey bro >3

he’s doing okay, in pain and probably injured but he’ll survive. still being very sarcastic so we shouldn’t worry very much lol.

jey calmed himself down when read the message, thanking you for always being by his side.

and he was right, you couldn’t wait to bring jimmy back home so you could take care of him.