#wwe fandom

[usoinked]

“Sleepwalking Through the Shadows”

Summary: What if Jey had crossed paths with Damian Priest while he was still the Right Hand Man of the Bloodline, and Damian was still part of The Judgment Day?

CW: Angst

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Jey Uso stood in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him in the dim light. His soft curls hung low over his forehead. His shoulders were tense, a storm of emotions swirling in his chest, but he couldn’t name them. He’d been living in the shadows lately, like a sleepwalker lost between his role as the right hand man and the man he was beneath his crumbling shell. Jey never felt this angry, this demented, and was certainly not much of a crashout until this point due to the mental and physical abuse from Roman. His mind raced with unanswered questions, his place within the Bloodline felt like more a prison than a family. The only person that really could comfort him in times like this was his twin brother Jimmy, but unfortunately he was still out with a knee injury. Luckily for him though, Paul was out running errands for Roman and wouldn’t be here for another forty five minutes at the least. And Roman wasn’t here tonight at all, which gave him some time to reflect on everything that’s been happening lately.

Just then, the door to the locker room creaked open. Jey didn’t turn around; he knew who it was without having to look. The slow, deliberate footfalls were unmistakable.

Damian Priest stepped into the room, his presence magnetic, shadowy. The faint glow of the hallway lights illuminated the hard lines of his face, the dark glint in his eyes. His Puerto Rican heritage was reflected in the intensity he carried, like a simmering storm that could burst at any second. Him and Damian never really spoke much, however, they did see each other when Jey would be trailing behind Roman through the backstage hallways. Even behind that serious persona Damian had, the concern in his eyes was unmistakable.

“¿Todo bien, hermano?” Damian’s voice was smooth, but there was a certain weight to it—like he was asking more than just about Jey’s physical state.

Jey sighed, finally turning to face him, a mask of indifference plastered over his expression. But Damian could see through it. He always could.

“Yeah,” Jey muttered, though the word felt hollow even as he said it. “Just tired. A lot on my mind, you know?”

Damian stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve been sleepwalking through it all, huh?” he said, his voice lowering, a touch of concern hidden behind the sharpness. “Just going through the motions.”

Jey raised an eyebrow, meeting Damian’s gaze, the intensity of it unsettling him just a little. “Man what’s that supposed to mean?” he shot back, his tone defensive.

Damian didn’t back down. “It means you ain’t living, Jey,” he said, his words heavy with meaning. “I see you, man. You’re trapped in your head, stuck between what you think you gotta do and what you wanna do. No one can live like that forever.” He stepped closer, his voice a little softer but still firm. “No me hagas esto, hermano. You deserve more.”

Jey swallowed hard, fighting the urge to look away. He didn’t want to admit it, but Damian was right. Something inside him had been shutting down for weeks. He didn’t know where the Bloodline was taking him, but he didn’t think he could keep playing the role of the right hand man for much longer.

“You ain’t the only one trapped in their own mind,” Jey muttered, voice low. “Guess we both stuck, huh?”

Damian’s eyes flashed for a moment, and he took another step closer, closing the distance between them. There was a fire in his gaze, like he was trying to pull Jey out of his own personal prison. “No, you ain’t stuck, Jey,” he said, his voice soft but full of an intensity that hit Jey in a place he didn’t know existed. “You just scared to step outta that shadow. But you don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you, hermano.”

Jey was silent for a moment, his thoughts swirling in a storm of doubt and uncertainty. The words hung in the air between them like an invisible tether, pulling him in, making it harder to fight. His eyes flicked down to Damian’s hand, inches away from his arm, the temptation of the offer lingering there, unspoken.

“Man, I don’t need nobody to help me,” Jey said, his voice just above a whisper, but even he could hear the lie in it.

Damian’s gaze softened, his hand reaching out slowly, fingers brushing the back of Jey’s neck in a gesture that was both gentle and firm. “You don’t gotta be alone in this, Jey. I got you. We got this.”

Jey stiffened, but only for a second. The pressure of the moment began to ease, replaced by something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. Damian’s touch was grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, like someone was finally seeing past the mask he’d put on for years.

Jey looked at him, not saying anything at first. The words weren’t there—he didn’t know how to say what he was feeling. But in the quiet, Damian didn’t need him to. The understanding between them was clear, even if neither one said it out loud.

The two men stood in the dark room, close but not touching, the weight of the silence heavy with all the things they both knew but couldn’t quite say. Jey didn’t know if he was ready to break free yet, but with Damian standing there, with that steady, unwavering presence, he was starting to believe he didn’t have to walk this path alone.

Damian’s lips parted as he leaned in, his breath warm against Jey’s ear. “I ain’t leaving you in the dark. You ain’t gotta be a sleepwalker no more, Jey.”

Jey closed his eyes, a sense of relief settling over him. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, or how to even move forward, but Damian’s presence, his words, they made it all feel a little less impossible. Maybe, just maybe, he could stop sleepwalking through his own life.

He didn’t answer back because he didn’t need to. With the new found respect that Jey had for Damian, hearing and understanding him was all he needed.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Note: The atmosphere I wanted for this story is deeply influenced by the mood and themes in “Sleepwalker” by Adam Lambert, which talks about feeling lost, disconnected, and emotionally trapped. Not to mention it’s also a really good song imo. Anyway, with the emotional intensity, longing, and complexity of both Jey and Damian’s characters—especially in the moments where Jey feels like he’s been sleepwalking through his own life—are reflected in Damian’s desire to pull him out of that state! So Damian offers some understanding, companionship, and a way out, not just from the shadows but also from the emotional isolation Jey feels🫶🏽😌

[terrortwinunicorn]

D. All of the above

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s best friend catches him. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Masturbation (m only), joi (jerk off instructions), spit, cum, dirty talk 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @kimmbery. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST

Her eyes flutter open and after a brief moment of disorientation, she realizes she must have fallen asleep while she and Damian were watching a Cops marathon. She glances toward the other bed to be sure he’s there, since he’s not next to her, as his presence is required of late to help her sleep. The TV offers the only illumination in the room, casting a blue hue over every surface, and her vision is a bit bleary from having just woken up, but she can make out Damian’s long body, partially covered by the comforter. Blinking, she notices he’s holding his phone close to his bare chest, various colors flickering across his handsome face and the tattoos on his broad shoulders. Her gaze drifts down his arm, licking her lips as his bicep flexes, and she follows it to his hand, which is wrapped around one of the biggest—if not the biggest—cocks she’s ever seen in real life. Her heart skips, drums erratically, stops, and then returns to beating normally, though at an incredibly high rate of speed. Could she be dreaming? She discreetly sneaks a hand out from under the blankets to rub her eyes, and after blinking several times, she looks again to find the same scene unfolding on the bed opposite her. Damian Priest, her best friend, is jerking off while watching what is probably porn on his phone.

Her first instinct should have been to try and sneak a picture so she could send it to him in the middle of his session, but the allure of witnessing a sexy man stroke his own cock is too overwhelming. Awash in the glow of the TV, she observes his technique of a few quick pumps before a series of slow, deliberate ones. Is he edging himself? God, that’s hot. Her mouth fills with saliva, eyes rounding, as Damian touches the tip of his dick with his finger, coming away with a string of precum that he then uses for lube as he continues pumping the shaft. She can hear him breathing now, short, quick respirations, and she wonders how close he is to coming.

“Jesus!” Damian hisses, hand releasing his dick so he can grab the blankets to cover himself. The phone flies out of his hand, too—or does he launch it?—landing face down on the mattress beside him. She has no idea what’s startled him until she looks down and recognizes that she’s moved into a sitting position, blankets still up to her shoulder on one side. Idiot, she reprimands herself, but now’s not the time for aggravation. Something is happening that she may never experience again and she intends to make the most of it. For both parties.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers, words hanging heavily between them in the thick atmosphere. Damian gapes, remaining frozen. “Please don’t stop.”

After a brief moment of consideration, though it’s long enough to fray her nerves, Damian slowly removes the blankets that weren’t really covering him in the first place. She lets out a sigh, biting her lip as Damian’s impressive manhood is revealed, this time lying heavily against his lower abdomen, and is he bigger now than before? Harder? He picks it up, stroking with clear apprehension. He’s probably waiting for her to whip her phone out and snap a picture and send it to as many people as possible before he tackles her, because if anybody knows her better than she knows herself, it’s him. But that couldn’t be the furthest thing from her mind at the present moment.

“Fuck,” she says, incredulous, eyes locked on the movement of Damian’s ring-covered fingers as they wrap around his cock, giving it a few pumps. His thumb glides over the head again to gather more precum and she squeezes her thighs to alleviate the pressure in her aching pussy. “I, um—” She licks her lips, and her best friend looks at her. His eyes are bottomless, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. “I can help you with that,” she breathes.

It seems the Archer of Infamy has lost his ability to speak, and so releases his cock—the slap it makes when it lands on his abs again is nearly enough to make her cum—to extend his hand in her direction. She places her feet lightly on the hardwood hotel floor, coming out from the blanket and standing. His gaze drifts down her body from the hardening nipples under a tank top that’s ridden up to her ribs to the spandex boyshorts that really leave nothing to the imagination. He picks his cock up with his left hand this time, his strokes becoming longer and quicker, a soft moan escaping his perfect lips. Once close enough, she bends over and releases all the drool she’s accumulated from simply watching a man jerkoff, doing her best to aim the strings of saliva so they land on the head of Damian’s dick and slide over the shaft, over his fingers, and on over his balls.

“Fuck,” Damian moans, on the verge of whining, and he begins to jerk his cock in earnest. 

Her eyes dance as she watches him spread her spit around his dick, using it to get off, and what starts as a smirk grows into a full on grin. She chews on her bottom lip, battling with the urge to just shove his cock down her throat because, again, she’s unsure what’s really going on here. She just knows she’s here for it. Damian’s free hand touches her, his fingers slipping inside her boyshorts so he can pull her closer. His hand glides up her body, passing her breast with a sweep of his thumb over the nipple, which causes a shudder down to her very core, and he cups her cheek. His fingers are long enough to reach the back of her neck, and he gently pulls, and she giggles as he continues applying pressure until she’s on the bed beside him. Her hand lands on his chest as their faces meet—noses grazing, mouths pressing together in something that can be described only as an almost-kiss—the exhale of one inhaled by the other. She feels his hips thrust his cock into his fist.

“Slower,” she purrs, eyes boring into his, hand gliding all along his broad chest, firm abdomen, and those fucking vees at his hips. Damian’s eyes are hooded, onyx, quite a bit intimidating, but his body begins to vibrate at a lower rate, continuing to mellow. She glances down to watch the deceleration, groaning at the pace, at his willingness to obey. Another smile graces her lips, face still hidden from Damian’s as her attention remains transfixed on the lackadaisical way he’s now massaging his cock.

She turns back, pressing her lips to his ear, his hand snaking under her to come up and around where he cups a handful of her ass. She gasps, rolling her hips against him, before instructing, “Just a little faster.” She knows his momentum by the muscles in his pec—more obedience. She breathes a laugh against his neck, and he groans, turning his head, crushing his cheek against hers. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard …” She trails off, lifting her head to look at Damian. “What’s Spanish for daddy?” 

Damian’s eyes roll back and close and his body stills. She imagines his fingers are constricting around the base of his swollen cock to prevent anything from happening prematurely. “Papí,” he growls, and her jaw drops, tongue poking at the corner of her mouth. Papí is so much hotter than daddy. His eyes open to meet hers. “Call me Papí.”

Her mouth is back at his ear. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, Papí.” His hips surge. She chuckles, nipping at his earlobe, and she swears she hears him whining again deep in his chest. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She cradles the other side of his face, pressing sloppy kisses to his cheek and jawline. “You had to cum so bad that you just couldn’t wait until you were alone?”

“I could’ve taken a shower,” Damian points out. “I need to go faster. With you kissin’ on me like that …”

“You could have,” she says, ignoring his demand. “But you didn’t wanna wake me up. Right? You wanted to let me sleep, but you just couldn’t stop touching that big cock …”

“Easy, querida,” he grumbles. 

She giggles, knowing him well enough to know when to stop pushing his buttons. “Faster,” she whispers into his ear, thumb on his chin and inching toward his lips. He presses a kiss to the pad of her finger, and it’s her turn to thrust her hips against his. He lifts his hand from her ass only to bring it down in an echoing slap, and she squeals, body jarring, and his arm instantly comes around her waist to keep her from going anywhere. Does he think she wants to?

“You’re so fucking sexy, Papí,” she exhales along his hot skin. “A little faster.” His hand speeds up, and she reaches over to touch his bicep, reveling in each and every flex. “Every time I play with my toys, or I have my fingers in my pussy, I’m thinking about you.”

“Fuck!” Damian exclaims. His arm is like a vice around her, squeezing her hip, fisting the material of her boyshorts. He’s unable to control the thrusting of his hips now, but the pumping pace of his hand remains steady. Obedient. “I need to cum,” he confesses.

She returns her attention southward, and Damian attacks her neck this time, biting her ear, sucking the lobe. “Faster,” she breathes. His hand accelerates, and his hips are working faster, and she imagines for a moment those hips thrusting that huge cock deep inside her pussy, and she’s close to cumming too.

“Spit on it,” he rasps in her ear.

She smirks, turning back to him, her lips brushing his, and she doesn’t know why it’s so easy to spit on his dick, but she can’t bring herself to actually kiss him. Maybe because kissing makes things realer, somehow. If they don’t kiss, they’re just fooling around, friends with benefits maybe. But if they do kiss, doesn’t that mean something more? Or is she reading too much into it? And for hell’s sake, why is she concerned about this right now?

“Yeah?” she asks. “Did you like that?” Damian nods, licking his lips, and it’s like she’s dying inside. She maneuvers herself down his body, and his hand drops to the base of his cock. She spits this time as requested, truly spits, instead of drooling like before. The majority of it lands just below the head on the shaft and the two of them watch as it begins sliding down Damian’s tan skin. He switches the direction of his hand, his fingers now on the underside, and his palm covers the wad of spit so he can more easily spread it around his erection.

“Come here,” he commands, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling, though not nearly hard enough to cause any pain or damage, and she slithers back up his body. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” he says into her mouth.

“Do it,” she replies “Don’t worry about the mess … I’ll clean it up.” She swipes her tongue at his lips like a kitten lapping milk, and she can tell with the way his eyes darken that her meaning is understood. The entire bed is vibrating with Damian’s effort, his breath is coming in short bursts, and the expression on his face can only be described as desperate. “Please cum for me, Papí. Please?”

Hand on the back of her head, he pulls her lips to his, and they share a moan as the lust and tension and feelings between them culminate in the most intense kiss she’s ever experienced. She knows instantly she never wants to kiss another man, or touch another man. The only man she’ll ever need is right here next to her, blasting spurts of cum all over his abs and hand. Their tongues dance and their lips smack, and the ferocity gradually dissipates as Damian rides out his orgasm. She pulls away first, gazing down at the man of her dreams with a small smile on her lips. 

“Do you wanna … go on a date or … something?” Damian awkwardly asks.

Her smile grows. “Absolutely. But first I have some cleaning to do.”

She winks as she slinks down his body and proceeds to lick up every drop of cum, every splatter, off his belly. Damian chuckles, hand still in her hair, though now he’s caressing her scalp and cheek, and he watches her slurp up his cum. When she finishes there, she takes his sticky hand into both of hers and she lifts it to her mouth so she can drag her tongue along each finger, the back of his hand and the palm. “God, you taste good,” she gushes.

Damian grins. “Plenty more where that came from, hermosa.”

As she moves to lay back against his side, she notices his phone face down about to fall off the bed. “What were you watching?” she asks, nodding at the device.

Damian lifts his head and looks at the phone. He laughs and … is he blushing? “I know you’re gonna make me tell you or show you and I think it’s easier to just show you.” 

She accepts his permission before grabbing the phone and punching in his passcode. A YouTube video begins to play, and she’s about to launch into giggles when she realizes what the subject matter is. It’s a fan made montage of her, various clips of various moves from various matches. But they all have one thing in common: the incredibly gratuitous way in which she chooses to pin her opponents. In gear that’s barely there, she faces and straddles her opponent’s face, hooking their legs behind her arms, tongue out, and if she bends down just a little bit more, she’d have a mouthful of pussy. And there’s certainly several women on the roster she wouldn’t mind experiencing that with, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Damian had been watching her, as close to naked as possible, wrapped up in lewd positions with several of her closest, sexiest friends.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a crush on me,” she says.

His hand still has her neck and he brings her lips to his, though he doesn’t  allow her to kiss him. “Ever since the day I met you.”

🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Querida - Dearest/Beloved, term of endearment 🎀 Hermosa - Beautiful

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can I get some rough smurt with damian priest PLEASEE 🙏🙏🙏

okay i don’t usually do rough smut because personally i don’t feel like i’m good at writing them as i don’t read much of them but i made an exception for this request

damian priest x reader

‼️rough damian, dom!damian, sub!reader, slapping (?), praise and degradation, everything that regards smut basically, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare!!! + i’m not good at writing these type of requests so i hope you enjoy it‼️

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

faster

damian was known for many things.

for being an excellent wrestler, for being the new world heavyweight champion, for being a tattoo lover and for being an important member of the judgment day. what people didn’t know was that he was also known for being the greatest lover you ever had. he always took you on romantic dates, he never missed an important occurrence like your anniversary, he always brought you gifts home and he always prioritised you.

and what people also didn’t know is that the sweet and kind facade of his lover personality turned into a starving animal anytime he got you naked under his touch.

so maybe your neighbours would hear all the pornographic sounds you were making but you didn’t care.

the way he had you ass up in the air, thrusting in and out of you, making the bed creak against the wall was enough to make you come and scream damian’s name.

“you came already?” he asked, smirking seeing how easily he could break you “i’m not done with you hermosa…turn around” and you did as he told you.

not to mention that he already made you cum twice just with his experienced fingers.

he smiled seeing your teary face. he smiled even more when he saw the remaining drops of his cum near your lips and nose. he knew you and your body so well.

“gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked and you simply nodded “ i asked you a question so i expect a proper answer” he said before his strong hand collided with your ass, making you slightly jump.

“y-yes sir” you whispered, your ass burning for the sensation.

“good girl, don’t make me slap you again…”

“okay sir” he seemed satisfied with your answer so he continued his dangerous game with you.

he thrusted in you in full force, making you clench around his dick.

“fuck…” he groaned “don’t do that or i’ll punish you…”

“o-okay sir…”

he loved every second of it.

one of his strong hands went to wrap around your neck, adding a little bit of the pressure he knew you loved.

in result of his action, you clenched again around him “what did i say?”

“fuck…sorry sir…”

“you better behave or i won’t let you cum again…” he groaned.

“no no please…i’ll behave…” you cried out.

“you better, don’t come until i say so…” he whispered into your ear making you shiver.

“okay sir…” you moaned as he started moving inside of you. he brought one of your leg over his muscular shoulder. that position hitting spot inside of you that made you see stars “oh fuck papi…”

“you like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“yes sir, please…so good” he smiled seeing how power he had over you.

he kept praising you, telling you how good you were for him and the familiar feeling you loved so much started to build up.

“faster…” you moaned.

usually damian would have done the opposite of what you asked, showing you who was in control but seeing your face covered in cum and tears made him soften a little so he allowed you to be in charge for that split of second.

“don’t cum before i say so” he reminded you, not sure you understood his words.

“dam…” he slapped your ass “fuck, sir…”

“that’s good” he smiled.

“please…” you begged, not sure what you were begging for. everything was too much, the pleasure and the pain, you loved every second of it “please…please…”

“please what uh? use your words” his hand put a little more pressure on your neck while he kept moving inside of you.

“please i -…” words caught in your throat.

you couldn’t focus anymore. your body was on fire, ready to explode, you were about to cum but at the same time you didn’t want to disappoint damian as he told you to wait for him.

“i said use your words” he remarked, going faster as you asked him to do.

“i can’t please…let me come please sir…” tears streaming down your face, mascara mixing with the remaining cum from before, a beautiful sight for damian to see.

“hold it” he simply said.

“no no no…i can’t i can’t…” the way your body was shaking under damian’s touch made him realise that you were on the edge so he slowed his movements just to play with you a little.

you slowly opened your teary eyes just to meet with his beautiful ones.

“what color are you on pretty girl? do you want me to stop?” he checked in with you, making sure to never push you too far. he enjoyed it as long as you were enjoying it too and hurting you wasn’t on his list.

“no no, please…don’t stop…i’m good” you whispered making him smile.

the hand that was before on your neck, now gently moved some of your sweaty hair away from your face.

“color?” he asked again.

“so fucking green…please, i just need to come sir” you moaned once he reprised his speed.

“my little slut wants to come uh?” he smirked at you, seeing how quickly you nodded your head “you want to come on my dick so bad that it’s the only thought you had in that little brain of yours uh?” and once again, you nodded.

“please sir…”

“then come on my dick, now” he said with a stern voice. his dick hitting that spot again and again made you sink your nails into damian’s back, probably leaving some marks. the pleasure you were feeling was something you’ve never experienced before. you were so lost in your mind that you didn’t feel damian coming right inside of you. still high on the pleasure, you kept clenching around his shaft making him shake from pleasure too.

you slowly opened your eyes when you felt damian’s lips on your neck, gently kissing the bruises he left on you.

he knew you were still high on your pleasure when he saw your look. he smiled seeing you so peaceful, knowing that he’s the reason you feel at ease right now.

“come back to me pretty girl…” he whispered against your ear “come back baby”

it took you a few minutes to realise what was going on around you, only when you saw damian laying next to you, your brain connected “oh shit…” you whispered.

“are you alright? was it too much?” he always asked you if you were okay, especially right after a rough session like that. it wasn’t always like that with damian, some nights were more intimate, some weren’t. some nights he would take his time just to pleasure you, some nights he would let you be in charge and some other nights he would be the one in charge. some other nights he would treat you like his personal slut just for him to use but he knew you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t have a 100% trust in him and he felt so grateful because you put all of your trust in him.

“i’m okay…just a little tired” you smiled.

“let me get you a towel, and something to drink” he smiled leaving for just a few minutes. he came back with a clean towel in hands, a glass of water and some of your favourite biscuits “close your eyes for me…let me remove my work of art” he joked making you chuckle.

he carefully cleaned your face, removing the remaining cum and tears present on your face. he then proceeded to clean between your thighs, moving slowly between your folds “i know i’ll be quick, i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable” he reassured you when he saw you closing your legs “and all done…” he smiled, kissing your thighs and going up from chest to neck.

“thanks…” you whispered.

“is there anything that hurts? i know i’ve been too hard on you…” he asked a little concerned.

“i’m perfectly fine…just tired and probably i won’t be able to walk for a day or two” you laughed “but i’m okay, i promise, i enjoyed it a lot”

he slowly turned your face to face him, his hand gently caressing your cheek “i love you y/n, so much, thank you for trusting me with this, with your body and soul…i’m so lucky to have you in my life, never forget that”

“i know…” you smiled at his kind words, reminder that probably was for him instead of you, just to remind him that no matter how many times he called you a slut in bed, no matter how many times he degraded you, he would always love you and cherish you with every inch of his heart.

[chosowifee]

They look so good here it's insane

[reigns-devotee]

Paring: Roman Reigns, Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral, P in V, language, body fluids, 18+, Minors DNI

Word count: 2,726

Summary: During an unexpected night in a penthouse together, the atmosphere grows tense as the reader struggles to keep her composure around him. Their bond, usually defined by lighthearted friendship, deepens into something raw and passionate after an unnerving encounter with a snake leads to Roman rescuing her and an intimate moment between them.

I stood on the edge of the dock, staring out at the shimmering skyline from Roman Reigns’ penthouse balcony. We were only here for the next event, and it was a surreal upgrade from the cramped hotel rooms we usually got. The place was pristine, everything decked out in sleek, dark finishes, floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the whole city below like it was on display just for us. The stars had come out, faint against the city lights, and the air smelled faintly of the ocean.

Roman and I… well, we had one of those friendships that just made sense, filled with inside jokes, sarcastic banter, and the kind of warmth you don’t expect from a guy who looks like he was carved from stone. Sure, the world might see Roman Reigns as the hottest guy alive — and I get it, trust me. He's built like a god, his voice practically drips charisma, and every glance he throws could melt steel. It’s no wonder women go weak at the knees around him. But, see, I’d gotten used to ignoring the obvious. We were friends, just friends, and that was that. Mostly.

But now? Whoever thought it was a great idea to put me in the same penthouse suite with him for the night… well, they either had a cruel sense of humor or they just wanted to see if I’d make it out alive. It’s one thing to bump into him in the hallway or share a few laughs over lunch; it’s a whole different thing to spend an entire night sharing the same air, the same silence, the same damn rooftop view with this guy. I swear, they’re trying to kill me — or maybe, just maybe, test my resolve.

Roman steps up behind me, his presence instantly filling the space as he hands me a glass of wine. I turn around, and there he is, standing in nothing but a pair of low-hanging black sweatpants. His abs catch the faint light from the city, each defined muscle casting a subtle shadow, and his dark hair falls messily around his face. I swear, he’s either trying to test my patience or push me past my limit. My heart skips a beat as I meet his gaze, and I scramble to find my words. 

"It’s nice up here,” I manage, trying to distract myself from the pure temptation standing inches away. 

He lets out a dark, low chuckle that makes my stomach flip. “Yeah, a hell of a lot better than those cheap-ass hotels Triple H sticks us in,” he says, walking closer, his elbows leaning on the railing beside me. I can smell the faint, earthy scent of his cologne, and every bit of my concentration is going toward acting normal, keeping my cool. 

I force myself to look away, back over the city, pretending the view is somehow more interesting than him standing next to me. But just as I’m about to speak, he tenses, his expression changing.

"Shit, don’t move," he whispers, his voice low and cautious.

My eyes widen as I register the seriousness in his tone, and then I feel it — something smooth and cold coiling around my ankle, brushing against my skin. My breath catches as I slowly glance down, heart hammering, to find a small, red snake winding itself upward, tightening slightly with each small shift of its body.

Fear jolts through me, freezing me in place. My mind races, but my limbs refuse to respond as I look up, locking eyes with Roman, my silent plea for help clear. His eyes stay on mine, steady and reassuring, but I barely catch the calming look before my vision goes blurry and fades, my knees buckling as I sink into darkness.

“Y/N!” The sound of my name cuts through the fog in my mind, yanking me back to reality with a sharp intake of breath. My own scream echoes around us, bouncing off the stone walls and dissolving into silence as I feel hands clutching my arms, grounding me. Blinking, I look up to find Roman’s face inches away, his usual calm replaced with wide eyes and a look of relief mixed with panic. His face is pale, breath shallow as he chokes out, “Jesus…” 

Before I can process what’s happening, he pulls me close, wrapping me in his arms, his chest solid and steady beneath me. I lean into him, my heart racing as his warmth seeps through me, helping me catch my breath. We’re not on the dock anymore. Somehow, during my blackout, he must have carried me inside. It’s quiet now, just the faint hum of the city beyond the walls, his presence a grounding force as my pulse slowly calms.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers into my hair, his voice so soft I almost miss it. “It’s gone.”

My fingers grip his shoulders, his touch as unyielding as stone, yet somehow gentle, as if I might break. I nestle into his embrace, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, a sharp contrast to my own shaky breaths. Once again, I’m struck by the contradiction that is Roman Reigns — this man who walks through the world with a cold, untouchable exterior, seemingly indifferent to everything around him. And yet, here he is, holding me with a kind of warmth and protectiveness that feels almost… personal.

We stay like that for a moment, pressed together, my face buried in his chest, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne and the warmth radiating off his skin. Every beat of his heart pulses against mine, each thrum sending small shocks through my entire body. And then, curiosity gets the better of me — a curiosity I’ve tried to bury, one that makes me wonder about every part of him. The way he feels. The taste of his skin. The strength beneath that solid frame…

“Roman?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Yes, baby girl?” he replies, his voice low, steady, as his hand threads gently through my hair, the motion soothing and possessive all at once.

“Kiss me,” I breathe, feeling my pulse spike as the words hang in the air. His hand pauses, his touch suddenly rigid. His dark eyes hold mine, and for a moment, it’s as if he’s at war with himself, his jaw clenched.

“Please,” I add, so softly I’m not sure he even hears it.

He closes his eyes briefly, his expression a mix of desire and hesitation. “You have no idea what you’re asking,” he murmurs, his voice strained.

“But I do,” I insist, my hand moving down to press against his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin, the tension beneath it. He lets out a half-laugh, half-groan, his control slipping. My fingers explore the ridges of his toned torso, daringly close.

Then, with a swift motion, he catches my hand, guiding it lower, pressing it firmly into him, and I can feel his response to me, heat radiating, his sheer strength and size beneath my fingers. My breath hitches, heart racing at the forbidden intimacy, at the power I hold in my hand. A low, dangerous growl escapes his parted lips as his fingers tighten around mine.

“Keep doing that,” he murmurs, voice rough with warning, “and you’ll be in a world of trouble.”

"Maybe I like trouble," I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath. Roman’s dark gaze sharpens, and in one swift motion, he pins my wrist against the wall beside me, his grip firm yet controlled. A rush of excitement pulses through me, electric and undeniable.

“Baby girl, we *can’t*—you just passed out cold.” He gestures toward the dock outside, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “For God’s sake, you had a snake wrapping around your leg.”

“And I’m pretty sure anyone would pass out if a snake was slithering up their leg,” I counter, meeting his intense stare with a steady one of my own. His lips curve into a smirk, but his grip doesn’t soften.

“So you’re still here, still asking me to kiss you,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with something dangerous. “Why is that, baby girl?”

I swallow, a spark of confidence pushing me to answer honestly. “I got… curious. I’ve heard stories about you,” I admit, my words laced with intrigue. “Wondered which ones are true.”

His eyes narrow, just a fraction, but it’s enough to notice. “Stories?” he echoes, leaning in just a little, his breath warm against my cheek.

I nod, nerves twisting inside me as I confess, “People say… you only do it from behind.” I hesitate, my heart pounding. “That you don’t like kissing… or being face-to-face.”

The tension thickens, like a tangible force crackling between us, almost too charged to breathe in. Teasing him feels like playing with fire, yet I’m drawn to it, drawn to him, to the challenge hidden in his stare. His grip on my wrist tightens, just enough to remind me of his strength.

His face softens into something unreadable, but instead of speaking, Roman releases me, stepping back and straightening to his full height, his eyes never leaving mine.

Roman takes a deep breath, his gaze locked on mine, that hint of danger still simmering in his eyes. For a moment, he just stands there, towering over me, his expression unreadable. I wonder if I’ve finally pushed him too far, if maybe my teasing has crossed a line neither of us are ready to admit exists. But I can’t bring myself to look away.

He breaks the silence first, his voice low and controlled. “You think you know me? From stories?” He chuckles darkly, almost to himself, before his gaze sharpens, the intensity of it sending a shiver through me. “Let me make one thing clear, *Y/N* — the truth doesn’t live in rumors. And the truth about me… isn’t gentle.”

I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Maybe that’s what I want to know.”

He tilts his head, assessing me with a level of scrutiny that makes me feel exposed, vulnerable. And then, in one fluid motion, he steps back, the distance feeling almost as charged as his touch. He gestures toward the couch, where the dim city lights outside cast shadows over the room, leaving a private, almost intimate darkness between us.

“Sit,” he says softly, and though there’s nothing overtly commanding in his voice, I can feel the weight of it. I make my way to the couch, his presence close behind, and the moment I sit down, he’s beside me, his gaze steady and piercing.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out, fingertips grazing my cheek, the touch deceptively gentle. His thumb brushes along my jaw, his hand trailing down to tilt my chin up. “You want to know the truth?” he asks, his voice soft yet laced with a warning.

“Yes,” I whisper, breathless.

For a moment, he just watches me, his thumb idly tracing my jawline, sending sparks through my skin. Then, he leans in, close enough that I can feel his breath on my lips, the warmth radiating between us. He pauses, his eyes flickering to my mouth and then back up, searching, as if giving me one last chance to pull away.

“Remember, you asked for this,” he murmurs, before his mouth brushes against mine, the faintest touch that leaves me aching for more. When he kisses me fully, there’s nothing hesitant or gentle about it. His hands are in my hair, his body pressing closer, the heat between us undeniable. 

He leans in, pressing his tongue forcefully against my lips, igniting a passionate kiss that consumes us both. I respond eagerly, my own hunger for him matched by the intensity of his kiss. My hand slips down, fingers eagerly exploring, finding the outlines of his cock through the fabric of his pants. A low groan escapes his throat, resonating deep within me, as his hips instinctively thrust forward, seeking more of my touch. 

With a mixture of urgency and tenderness, he rests his forehead against mine, his eyes smoldering with a potent desire that sends shivers down my spine. Slowly, he lowers me to my knees, the world around us fading as our focus narrows solely to each other. 

Roman's fingers deftly unbutton his pants, the sound of the metal clasp breaking the steamy silence between us. He pushes the fabric down just enough to reveal himself, and my eyes widen in surprise and anticipation at the impressive sight before me. The sheer size of him takes my breath away, beautiful and pink, has to be around 9 inches, and I instinctively part my lips.

With a deliberate slowness, he wraps his hand around his length, guiding the head towards my awaiting mouth.

As he stands before me, he takes a deep breath and locks his eyes onto mine. Slowly, he pushes forward, guiding his thick cock past my parted lips. Placing his hands on the back of my head, he tells me, 'Tap my leg if you want out,' while gazing down at me through his darkened eyes and the swaying of his hair. 

I nod in response, indicating my understanding of his instruction. In one swift motion, he thrusts his cock down my throat, taking control of the moment. I yield to him, allowing my tongue to circle his cock as his thrusts become increasingly sloppy. His head falls back, releasing a low, rumbling moan from his chest. His hands grip my hair tightly as his hips quicken their pace, and he begins to growl, 'Fuck... your mouth...' with each thrust punctuated by a sharp breath. Amidst his passionate exclamations, he acknowledges, 'You take it so well, babygirl,' maintaining intense eye contact with me. Tears well up in my eyes, streaming down my face as I continue to meet his gaze.

He pulls his cock out of my mouth and yanks me up by my hair, so I'm standing in front of him. His hands slide down my shirt, gripping the hem and tearing it with one forceful motion. As he steps out of his pants, I hastily pull down mine, revealing both of us in our naked glory. He then grabs my cheeks and pulls me closer, saying, "Oh baby girl, if only you knew," in a teasing tone. I look up at him and plead, "Take me, please."

 In response, he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and catching me in a deep kiss. I can feel him getting ready to enter me, and then he pushes me down onto his throbbing cock, making me release a mixture of a deep moan filled with both pain and pleasure, 'Ugh, fuck...' Carrying me to the bedroom, he stops at the edge of the bed and proceeds to fuck me in the air, maintaining intense eye contact with me as I do the same, feeling him thrusting up into me repeatedly. I can feel the drool escaping my mouth, unable to control it as he lays me down on the bed, using one hand to turn me over so that I'm on all fours. 

Gripping my hips, I arch my back, inviting him to dominate me, and he obliges, pushing himself into me with a brutality that I don't resist, longing to feel him so deep that I'd lose myself. He continues to ravish me without holding back, making me forget my own name as he takes me to the brink of ecstasy over and over. An involuntary yelp escapes my mouth when he hits the spot that causes my back to arch, and Roman fists my hair, pulling me upright again. He intensifies his movements, the bed protesting with each thrust, until he finally reaches his peak, filling me with his essence as we both release a primal moan.

 Lying limp on the bed, my legs unable to move and my back aching, he delivers a firm spank to each of my ass cheeks. Leaning over me, he whispers in my ear, teasing, "Did I fuck your brains out, baby girl?" Sex with Roman was unlike anything I'd ever experienced – raw, animalistic, and soul-destroying in the best possible way, shattering every preconceived notion of who I was and molding me into something darker.

I lost myself in him. In sweet, filthy, depraved oblivion.

[mamirhodessxox]

request for single dilf cody and babysitter where he’s home early from work. the baby’s already down for the night so it’s just the two of them with nothing else to do on a saturday night. maybe they have drinks and put on a movie and one thing leads to another? idk, please take whatever liberties you want!

I Adore You <3

Single Dad!Cody Rhodes x Babysitter Fem!Reader

Desc: It all started when Cody asked for help on a babysitter site so someone could help his 3 little kiddies when he was at work & that’s when Y/N applied! 3 years go by and after a lot of emotional tension the two finally talk to each other privately!

Contents: Fluff!! Cody weak in the knees for lil miss Y/N, Drinking, Cussing, Body touching, Making out, Fluff!!!, Smut, Crying, Overstimulation, Aftercare.

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

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Usually babysitting 3 kids wouldn't be easy for the average baby sitter but luckily that wasn't the case..Y/N had been babysitting 3 kids for over 3 years after her employer took to a babysitting blog asking for assistance since he would be going on the road sometimes or needed someone willing to travel with him when the kids were able to go on the road. His name was Cody, Y/N knew who Cody was before even taking the application she just wasn't a die hard fan, that was her parents. She only took the application simply because she likes kid's and she actually handles them pretty well.

3 kids. 2 twin boys now hitting 10 & 1 girl who just turned 3 years old, Braden, Chase & Harper Rhodes. Cody had went through a nasty divorce in 2022 after Harper was born, His then wife was unhappy but also a terrible mother who ignored the boys & kept starting arguments with Cody in front of them. After his divorce he got full custody over the kids but also needed assistance when they traveled with him when he was scheduled for shows.

Y/N had gotten verry close with him & the kids over the years, Cody & the kids had considered Y/N apart of the family, she was invited to every event and holiday party you could think of, she was even at the house almost everyday just to hang out and now that it was summer time she was spending a lot more time with them, chalk activities in the drive way, water balloons in the back, grilling later at sunset, movie nights etc, besides the kids Y/N & Cody themselves had a good bond between each other, Corny inside jokes that he would find himself snickering at if he was doing something in the kitchen, For self defense when she would be out alone he went out of his way to teach her how to fight for just incase purposes especially when she was with the kids.

As of this week Cody was in and out of town doing plenty of promos & Y/N had been watching over the kids & during her free time she & Cody would FaceTime for a fee minutes before finishing up the kids’ screen time, “How’s my babygirl Harper?” Y/N shrugged at the question and turned her head to see the little girl playing in the corner with her dolls while her brothers watched TV for a little bit, Harper had bad separation anxiety when it came to her dad and it was not easy for him or her when he had to go on the road for a few days, She would spend most of her time if her signature corner with her toys down in the dumps waiting for her main best friend to come back home “She’s still a little bit sad, It’s not as difficult putting her to bed as usual but it’s definitely not any easier.” Cody listened to Y/N’s words thoroughly “She’s a Daddy’s girl, Paul had some scheduling problem’s so I’m on the bus on my way back, I should be home by later tonight how’s that sound?” Y/N smiled brightly at his words while balancing her phone against something while she made the kids their lunch.

“Sounds like a plan, They’re gonna be super excited, especially Harper” Cody nodded as he stared at Y/N through his phone screen watching her intently and paying attention to every single detail while she was talking, is that a new shirt? It has to be. He never seen her wear that top before, Her make up with light, casual, nothing about it was heavy or Caked up, “I’m gonna hang up now alright? Lunch time, I’ll see you later yeah?” Cody sighed a bit as his jaw clenched a bit & his heart ached with the fact it was time for her to set the phone down “Yeah, do whatever you need to do Doll, talk to you later.” Y/N smiled to herself at his words and set her phone down as the call was over “Lunch!!”

For most of the day Y/N had spent time with the kids, Harper had a few fits but overall she stayed patient with the kids as usual, The boys were upstairs playing while Harper sat beside the couch this time away from her signature hangout corner, Y/N had been cleaning up the kitchen after dinner for a little bit before giving the little girl most of her attention “Hey honey-girl, how you feeling?” The 3 year old shrugged her shoulders while her lips pouted before setting down her barbies “I just miss my daddy” Y/N frowned before crouching down to her level “I know sweetheart but he’s coming home very soon I promise!” Harper huffed and crossed her arms before Y/N had checked the time & noticed it was pushing bed time, "C'mon harp let's get you and the boys to bed alright?" The little girl nodded her head and got up independently and waddled her way up the stairs while Y/N went into the twins' shared bedroom "Chase, Braden c'mon time for bed" the boys frowned and set down their action figures "a few more minutes?? Pleaaaaase Y/N!” She smiled and ruffled Chases hair “Sorry hun but you know your dad’s rules” the boy huffed and nodded his head smiling before he & his brother got ready to go to bed, Y/N went into Harpers room and smiled softly as the little girl sat on her bed ready to be tucked in.

“When’s daddy coming home?” The little girl chirped before leaning back into her bed comfortably while Y/N hummed as she pulled the blanket over Harper “Tomorrow sweetheart, when you wake up he’ll be home I promise!” She quickly smiled and hugged Y/N before finally calming down while Y/N adjusted her pillows before finally letting her get rest and leaving the room.

The house was silent, the only thing to be heard was her light steps on the cold wooden floors. Y/N sat on the couch and quietly scrolled through tiktok on her phone before hearing the front door close and quietly as possible followed by a sigh, Cody took off his shoes before walking into the living room and seeing Y/N sitting comfortably looking in his direction “Hey.” She smiled at his greeting and jotted her head up “Hi, how was work?” He scratched the back of his neck before sitting next to her “It was alright, just a lot of public speaking y’know?” She nodded while setting her phone down “I just put the kids to bed, they played with chalk, had lunch watched tv and ate dinner, a pretty relaxed day” He listened to her words & had a small smile creep up from his smile before getting comfortable completely on the couch “Why don’t we have some drinks and watch a movie? Been awhile since we last hung out and had together time.” Y/N marveled at the idea & rolled her bracelets around her wrist as she thought before finally giving in and scooting closer “As long as I get to pick the movie that’s quite alright with me.”

Cody let out an airy chuckle before leaning comfortably into the couch while passing her over the remote so she could choose a movie she assumed was simple, easy going and maybe a little funny, they poured a few glasses of wine & paid attention to the screen letting out a few laughs here and there, Cody couldn’t quite remember what the name of this movie was but it seemed like a subtle hint of something since it was some cheesy rom-com, Y/N was drifting off asleep 15 minutes in making Cody do a double take from the screen to her before he decided to shut off the movie before getting up with a light groan & nudging her “hm..?” Y/N hummed out before stirring awake while he sat her up and grab ahold of her hands gently “let’s get you in bed alright? Your falling asleep” he spoke to her in a quiet tone while she groggily stood up and went up the stairs with him, Cody guided her to the guest bedroom she often slept in sometimes & help lie her down on the bed, he was just about to pull the covers over her but she frowned shaking her head in protest “Stay? At least until I fall asleep maybe?” Her lips were curled into a small pout while her hand laid against his wrist while she made room for him in the bed, how could he say no to a sweet thing like her? Cody gave in to her offer & almost immediately climbed in the bed & laid next to her.

The two were face to face with each other, his arm wrapped around her body comfortably while her hand was lying against his shoulder before nudging the tip of her nose against his “Your warm” she whispered while he smiled and rubbed his thumb against her shirt “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders and scooted a little closer “I think it’s a good thing” a small smile crept up his lips before he did what seemed to feel natural and press his lips up against Y/N’s and let out a short moan slip past his mouth while their hands explored each others bodies and grabbed at their clothes, Y/N bit at his lip & tugged his hair while he whined into her mouth before tugging on her sun dress hard enough to rip it apart and snatching off her panties “Co-!!” He tilted his head and planted his hand over her lips “what like I won’t buy you another pair tomorrow?” He teased before yanking his arm away and undressing himself before lying back next to her with her back up against his chest while he left scattered kisses against the nape of her neck. Y/N was busy becoming a hot whiney mess that pressed her ass against his dick more that enough to make him hard & desperate “knock it off.”

Cody warned Y/N when she whimpered from him smacking her ass as a warning , the tip of his dick slipping between her wet folds with ease and caressing up her clit again. She felt his chest rumble with his own moaning, too, however, his precum slipping from him and mixing with her wetness. And while he kept teasing her clit by thrusting in and out of her folds his dick eventually slipped into her pussy causing Y/N too let out a moan while he held her legs open as he fucked her from behind & his fingers dipped down her stomach into the depths of her thighs just too tease and toy with her swollen little bud. “F-Fuck it feels s-so goddamn good!” Y/N cried out while Cody grabbed a fistful of her hair and continued fucking himself into her at a rapid pace leaving the room filled with only noises that sounded like smacking, whimpering & heavy breathing

“What a pretty girl taking my cock so fucking good f’me” Cody moaned in her ear before he continued focusing on driving himself deeper into her, Y/N’s legs were shaking & she was overall overwhelmed from the amount of pleasure she was receiving, her spine shivered every time Cody teased at her clit & fucked her at the same time, he ran his free hand down his face to wipe off any tears from her face before his hips sputtered against her ass and came deep inside of her just as her climax hit “f-ffuck..” he moaned in the shell of her ear as Y/N let out short cries with her head leaned back as she kept convulsing and throbbing around his cock as her legs shook.

He had her roll over on her stomach after pulling out while he got behind her and lifted her hips up and pressed her ass back against them before fucking himself back into her while she cried into a pillow the more his thrusts became faster & harsher while he was leaning forward pressing himself against her back and kissing up on her neck “my good girl” he chanted in her ear like some sick love spell, the air in the room was thick, intimate, intense & overwhelming, Y/N panting and whining into the pillow whenever Cody slammed back into her pussy just to see her pretty face contort into an expression of pleasure while tears ran down her already red cheeks, he laid his hand against her lower back while letting out his own whimpers here and there when he felt the need to cum again, He would bury himself all the way inside of Y/N making her roll her eyes back and clutch ob the blankets, sheets, his wrist, everywhere.

“Yeah? Does that feel good pretty girl? You like it when I do that?” He taunted at her with his words while leaning back over her and kissing her shoulder while she nodded profusely before moaning out once he smacked her clit “f-fuck Cody! ‘m gonna cum again!” He smiled and fucked her at an even faster pace “c’mon angel cum for me, be a good girl for me and cum” he groaned out while she cried and flung her arm back to hold onto his hand for some support, both of them came together causing Cody to topple over her and hug her tightly against his body “love you so so much gorgeous” not a sense of nervousness or anxiety came out with those words, he said it almost naturally as if the two were already together, Y/N teared up and ended up breaking down at the sentence as overstimulation & emotion took over which alarmed him.

Cody was about to pull out to check on her but she protested immediately against his actions and pressed her ass further against him causing his cock to sink further inside of her making her moan into the pillow that was right next to her face “Sweetheart I gotta-“ she turned her head quickly and frowned at his unfinished sentence “n-no! I need you to stay, please?” This is exactly how he got into this predicament, her little pleads & the pout on her lips got him right here in this exact moment “Let me get you cleaned up first and then we’ll get back to..this, alright princess?” She sniffled a bit and nodded as he finally pulled out making her wince at the empty feeling, she rolled over on her back and watched as Cody went into the bath connected to the room & run warm water over a wash cloth & come back in the room to gently clean her up from the mess he made in-between her legs “you feeling okay?” He mumbled before pressing soft kisses against her ankle & tummy before throwing the wash cloth into the laundry basket & crawled back in bed with her & got ahold of the hair tie around her wrist and pulling her hair into a small pony tail “did you mean it?” She muttered nervously while he smiled tiredly and kissed her temple “Of course I did love, I’ve adored you for 3 whole years and I don’t think that will be changing anytime soon in the near future.” He mumbled against her hair while his hands massaged at her side “I love you too Codes.”

Mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[6urn1td0wn]

Some of my fanart as a sacrifice…please find me I want mutuals xx

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

●Joe Hendry x Reader●

_________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Sitting in the corner of the ring breathing heavy from the match I am currently having, I look up at the entrance way when I hear a familiar theme song hit the arena. Joe Hendry is making his way down towards the ring and around to commentary. I watch him with a little smirk on my face until I get kicked in the corner remembering I currently have a match going on.

_________________________________________

*Joe's POV*

"Watching Y/N in the ring is one of my favorite things to watch Vic."

"She is a very impressive wrestler Joe. But I have a question for you. Why are you out here for her match? I know you and Y/N are both in TNA together."

She gets the win and celebrates with the crowd causing me to stand up and clap for her. She rolls out of the ring and walks towards me smiling. I put my hands on the sides of her face looking at her.

"You wanna know why I'm out here for her match Vic? Well this beautiful lady is my wife. I'll always support her like she supports me."

She smiles really big, I smile back, pull her in and kiss her infront of everyone around us.

[caramara3]

How Could You | Damian Priest

Warnings: it's just sad.

A/N: Sooo... this is actually a rework of an old Seth Rollins one-shot I had made years back, but I decided to revamp it into a Damian Priest one-shot. This has absolutely no tie-in to Just Friends whatsoever.

Word Count: 2.9k

Enjoy!

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice comes over the loudspeaker:

“EIGHTH FLOOR.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, you watch your best friend and maid of honor Sydney step off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Coast is clear,” she whispers.

You nod and push off the safety bar, throwing the thick strap of your purse over your shoulder. You grab hold of your carry-on and step off the elevator.

Sydney places a hand on the swell of your back while the other pulls her suitcase. Your gaze falls to the floor as the two of you walk down the hall, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern as she scans the placards on the wall looking for the right room. Every so often you could feel her eyes practically burning a hole through before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards. 

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the arena over an hour ago you'd barely spoken a single word. Not to her, not to Rhea, no one. You were catatonic. 

But who could blame you? After what you had just seen, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in your shoes.

As you continued down the hall, you could feel the consistent buzzing of your phone through the thin fabric of the hoodie. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

It almost felt like with every step you took, the phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Normally you would have answered by now. But instead, you chose to ignore whoever it was and kept going. 

You finally reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a door marked 827. Sydney pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slides it into the automated lock. A few buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher you into the room, following close behind.

Placing your purse on the dresser, you look around at what would be your new home for the night. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard. 

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows you’d have ever seen in your life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol. 

The one thing that did make the room stand out was the incredible view. Floor-to-ceiling window panels centered on the main wall of the room leveled with the New York skyline, showcasing a near perfect image of the city. There was even a clear view of the Empire State Building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city you couldn’t help to think about how different life was a few hours ago. You were engaged to the love of your life. You were in the final countdown before the big day, less than a week. You were at your rehearsal dinner downtown surrounded by your closest friends and family, all gathered to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. 

But all of that seemed so long ago now.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? 

But before you could think of an answer to your question, the sound of boots clacking across the hardwood floor brought you back to reality.

“Well,” Sydney says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” 

“Fine?” she snorts, “Y/N, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

You hear movement from behind and see a light flicker on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Y/N you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Y/N the floors are heated!!”

But you don’t move. You don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, you stay seated in silence, holding yourself as you gaze out into the city and its nightlife. 

You observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while your mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape as your mind begins to torture you with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. Your brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years.

You were desperate to find any little detail you missed, something that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared you for what would eventually happen.

But you found nothing.

No hints, no little clues. 

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Y/N don’t be alarmed, but the night before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé with some random woman bent over a table.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t felt the bed dip, nor did you flinch when you felt a set of arms pull you into an embrace, resting your head under Sydney’s chin. One hand settled at the swell of your back, tracing small circles with her finger, the other gently stroked your hair. Sydney had been your best friend ever since you were both in diapers, you knew just how much it pained her to see you like this; this deflated catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly best friend. You knew she probably had a million questions for you, but rather than bombard you, she said nothing and just held you. 

Throughout your nearly three decades of friendship, there was never a time in your life where you couldn’t rely on her to be there for you wherever you needed the most. And tonight was definitely one of those moments when you needed her.

The two of you stayed in this comfortable silence for seemed like forever, just staring out into the night as she held you. 

“You feel like talking about it?” you hear her ask, her voice just above a whisper.

You say nothing.

“Ok, that’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it yet. We’ve got tomorrow to figure everything out, but tonight,” she pauses, leaping from the bed, “tonight we are getting shit faced.”

Once again you say nothing but watch as she makes her way over to the wet bar. You knew what Sydney was trying to do. First she would pump you with some top shelf liquor, order a bunch of room service, and then put on your favorite horror movies to get you in a relaxed and neutral state while she did damage control. 

Unfortunately, Freddy Krueger and tequila weren't going to fix this problem. Not this time.

“Tell you what. Why don’t I call Rhea and see where she and Bianca are with the rest of your things, and then I’ll see if I can wrangle us up some food. How does that sound?”

You think it over for a moment before nodding in agreement.

A smile forms on Sydney’s face. “Awesome. What do you feel like? We could do chinese, pizza, maybe some Thai food? I could see if room service is still available…?”

You look over at her, her hazel eyes meeting yours. “Could we do a little bit of everything?”

A small laugh escapes Sydney’s mouth. “Hell yea we can! I’ll even get some ice cream from that bodega we passed down the street. Why don’t you change out of that dress, take a nice hot shower, and I’ll start getting everything ready.”

You give her a small smile and with one final hug from her she grabs her purse and heads out, leaving you alone. You slide off the bed and walk around the large room. You stop in front of one of the many conveniently placed touch screen panels on the wall. Scanning over it, you find an app called Night and tap it. Instantly, large panels begin descending over the large window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding the skyline away for the night.

You move about the room making your way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it. Sydney was right, this was an incredible bathroom, like something straight out of Architectural Digest. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors, there were heated marble countertops, eucalyptus scented plush Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary plush bathrobes with matching slippers, full-sized bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and shower wall panels on the front and side walls.

On the outside of the shower was another touch screen panel to control the shower. You look it over for a few moments, looking over your choices before choosing the one labeled “rainfall.” The overhead showerheads come alive and water begins to rain down, quickly filling the bathroom with steam.

Moving back to the sink you look at the wide selection of skincare products laid out when you felt your phone begin its incessant vibrating once again. But rather than ignore it like before, you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and stare at the screen.

The first thing you see is your background. It was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together, Halloween 2022. The two of you had dressed up as Frankenstein and The Bride of Frankenstien. You were looking at the camera but his eyes were focused solely on you, a smile stretched across his face as he did.

You unlock your screen and view the notifications: over a dozen missed calls. Dozens of voicemails. Way too many damn unread text messages.

With a sigh, you begin scrolling through the list of missed calls, seeing one name appear more often than others.

Damian.

Damian.

Rhea.

Bianca.

Damian.

Damian.

Kayden.

Finn.

Dominik.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

Bianca.

Finn.

Damian.

Rhea.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

The nerve he had to call you, the absolute nerve. What in the hell would make him think you wanted to hear anything that he had to say? Did he think that simple sorry was going to change everything? Or was he calling to explain that what you had seen wasn’t what you thought it was.

You toss your phone onto the counter in annoyance before walking back into the main room, not caring much where it landed. You free yourself of your hoodie, your dress, and the rest of your clothes. You grab two of the plush bath towels underneath the sink, placing one on the back of the toilet and place the other on a hook outside of the shower. You grab one of the bottles of complimentary body wash and open the shower door, the rush of steam engulfing you as you step inside.

You move to stand directly underneath the showerhead, letting the warm cascade over your body. The sound of water splashing against the tiles echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out your own thoughts as your mind displayed every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ ever said playing on an endless loop in your mind, attempting to pinpoint the moment where everything changed.

Meeting for the time wrestling on the indies. Meeting again after signing your WWE contract. The night he first asked you out, the night he first said I love you, the night you first made love. Meeting each other’s families. 

You try to shake these thoughts from your mind, but it won’t work. No matter what else you attempt to think about, no matter what other happy memories you attempt to form in your head, nothing can keep them at bay. A few stray tears push their way out but you’re quick to wipe them away.

No, you thought. You are not going to do this Y/N. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

You reach to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...    

And that’s when you noticed it. The tan line on your finger, now completely visible on your left hand that only a few hours ago bore the beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring. 

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come. 

Until the night of WrestleMania 37, just hours after you retained your title against Asuka and watched him compete in his first Mania alongside Bad Bunny. The two of you found yourselves back in your shared hotel room, bodies entangled with one another, holding you close against his chest when he would whisper in your ear the two words that would freeze time around you both:

Marry me.

He would reach over to the bedside table next to the bed and pull out a small black box. He would tell you just how much he loved you, how he has always loved you from the moment he met you, how he doesn't wish to spend another day on this earth without you. Then he would slip the dainty ring on your finger and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him.  

Now that finger is bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back at him after what had happened.

And just like that, it all came crumbling down. That false sense of reality you created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and had smacked you dead in the face.

Damian Priest, the love of your life, the man you were set to marry tomorrow, had been cheating on you. 

And you had caught him tonight. 

Your legs carried you backward until your back hit the wall of the shower. A wave of nausea swirls all around your empty stomach and your chest tightens like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was from the shower. 

Three years of your life, all gone in a flash. Plans for the future, for children, traveling the world… all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true now.  

Your body sank to the ground and before you knew it you were curled up into a ball, sobbing into your knees as the water turned from warm to cold. 

But you didn’t care. Your head swam with half-formed regrets. Your heart felt as if your blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. 

There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now engulfed you in the swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.  

TagList:

@terrortwinunicorn @damiansgoodgirll @rootedinrevisions @thedeboniardevistation @beibigirl124 @bonni-98 @queencherryberry @queenoftheworldisdead @kalliravenne @neversatisfiedgirl @mzv11 @sassymox @blueblazezz @madhatterbri @royallyprincesslilly @southerngirl41 @abadbitchblogs @miss-kuki-nz @shamaness11 @cookiebelle @flawlessglamazon @lavitabella87 @chaneajoyyy @adriennegabriella @gold--gucciempress @msbigredmachine @fivefootxo @joy-of-life88 @joannasteez @wrestlingbabe @daniiwrites @trippinsorrows @lorena26 @babiidee28 @yana3sworld @disc0fairy @eringobragh420 @bossbitch-22 @kultklassickiller @hotmessexpressssss @writinglionqueen @retro-rezz-the-est

[randysnutellajar]

Shawn to Hunter:

[usoinked]

🥀Metal and Roses🌸

Summary: Rhea Ripley and Tiffany Stratton couldn’t be any more different. There was a tough, dark-haired Aussie with an edge, exudes raw strength and had a no-nonsense attitude. Then there was a blonde beauty with a glamorous, spoiled persona, lived for the spotlight and wasn’t afraid to show it. The two women clashed from the moment they crossed paths with their contrasting personalities and aesthetics making it seem like they could never coexist. But when night of unexpected chemistry forces them to face their differences—we start to see what may lie beneath the surface of both of them 👀🥀🌸

CW: Smut, Explicit Language, Sexual Tension, 18+ MDNI

Enjoy! 😈🖤

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As she stared into the mirror, she remembered that Rhea was supposed to be coming over soon. The two of them had to go over their plans for tomorrow night on Raw, considering they were now a tag team, set to face Liv Morgan and Raquel Rodríguez. Tiffany was still fuming from Friday—Liv had attacked her from behind, all because Tiffany had taken her sweet time deciding who she would crash the next Pay-Per-View with. Liv thought it would be cute to get a little revenge, so she asked Adam Pearce for a match against Tiffany. But, of course, Liv needed a partner for the match. And who else could stand to have issues with Liv more than Rhea Ripley? That’s how they ended up here.

Tiffany finished slipping her Dior jacket on, just as a knock echoed at the door. She hesitated for a second, already knowing who it was. She got up, walking over and opening the door with a quick flick of her wrist. “Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t think you’d actually bother to show up,” Tiffany teased, putting her hands on her hips.

Rhea gave a sarcastic roll of her eyes, propping herself up with one arm against the door, an annoyed look painted on her face, though she forced a brief, fake smile. “Guess you don’t know me as well as you think, princess.” She lifted her chin slightly. “This won’t take long. Can I come in or not?”

Tiffany stepped aside, letting Rhea into the room, closing the door behind her. “Since we’re partners now for this tag match, I think we should go over some strategy—” Tiffany started, but was quickly cut off by Rhea, who shot her a sharp look, holding up a finger.

Rhea’s voice was firm as she shook her head. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t follow rules, and I sure as hell don’t need your help to take out Liv and Raquel. The way we’re gonna win this match is by you staying out of my way, and letting me do what I do best—rip Liv and Raquel to pieces.”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over her chest. “That’s not how a team works. You’re not doing this alone y’know. Liv attacked me on Smackdown too, and I want to get my hands on her just as much as you do. I might not be the muscle here, but I’m Ms. Money in the Bank for a reason, so you don’t get to tell me what to do. If you want to take down Liv and Raquel, we’re doing it together. That’s why we’re tag partners, hello?”

Rhea clicked her tongue, a smirk forming on her lips. “I don’t need you to help me, Tiffany. Your job is to stay on the sidelines, play with those curls of yours, and look pretty while I handle business in the ring. That’s it.”

Tiffany couldn’t help but grin, enjoying the fact that Rhea had acknowledged her looks. “First off, thanks for the compliment,” she said with a wink. “But second off? Rude.” She pouted dramatically, arms still crossed. “I know I’m pretty, but that’s exactly why you need me. Hello? How else are you gonna get the prettiest moonsault ever if I’m not there. I’m known for that by the way.” She bragged.

Rhea rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from letting out a quiet laugh. There was something about Tiffany’s cocky yet playful energy that amused her. She wasn’t sure how, but the blonde had a way of making her smile—even if it was against her will.

Tiffany shot her a sly grin, her eyes glimmering with a challenge. “Trust me, you need me more than you think. That’s why we need to go over strategy for this match.” She said before walking over to the bed and sitting down crossing her legs. “Come on, we can’t win if you just stand there.”

Rhea just looked at Tiffany a moment before pinching the bridges of her nose reluctantly sitting down. “Fine, make it quick.”

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In the ring, Rhea gripped Liv by her hair, a wicked grin on her face as she slammed her into the mat causing Liv to let out a cry. “Aww, Liv, cry me a river,” she taunted, watching as Liv flailed on the mat.

Tiffany, eager to get into the match, bounced on the apron, hands outstretched. “Tag me in!” she shouted, her voice full of anticipation. Rhea glanced at her briefly, but she was too focused on keeping Liv under control. Finally, with a sigh of exasperation, Rhea reached over and slapped Tiffany’s hand, tagging her into the match.

Tiffany entered with a burst of energy, immediately going after Liv. But just as she was getting into her rhythm, Liv immediately crawled over to Raquel who then tagged herself in. The powerhouse slowly entered the ring before her and Tiffany circled each other a few times before charging at the blonde, throwing her weight into a brutal shoulder block that sent Tiffany stumbling back.

Raquel wasn’t about to give Tiffany a moment to breathe. She threw a series of punishing strikes, forcing Tiffany into the corner. Tiffany tried to fight back, landing a quick kick to Raquel’s midsection, but Raquel was relentless, lifting her up and slamming her back into the turnbuckles with a devastating Irish whip.

Tiffany staggered, trying to regain her footing, but Raquel was already on her, catching her with a big clothesline that instantly took her off her feet. Tiffany groaned in pain as Raquel’s strength was overwhelming.

“Tiff! Get up!” Rhea shouted as she slammed her foot down on the steel steps.

She struggled before shouting back, “I’m trying!” as she gave Raquel a massive kick to the mid section as the woman attempted to pick her up, trying to buy herself some time before she was ultimately struck in the face sending her back down to the mat.

The match was greuling, Rhea was tagged back in eventually but not before witnessing Tiffany go through a cruel state of affairs with Raquel. By this time though, Liv was tagged back in as well and Rhea took her opportunity to implement her favorite strategy of them all. Brutality of course.

As Rhea dominated Liv in the ring, her strength overwhelming her opponent, she finally hit a successful Riptide, planting Liv hard on the mat. Just as Rhea was about to go for the three-count, Raquel, who had been outside the ring, slid back in and broke up the pin with a brutal kick to Rhea’s back.

The referee immediately signaled for Raquel to return to her corner, but the damage had already been done. Tiffany, having regained her composure after a brief break, slid into the ring, charging at Raquel and delivering a devastating dropkick that sent her flying out of the ring.

With Raquel temporarily taken out of the equation, Tiffany didn’t hesitate. She hopped onto the second rope, then quickly ascended to the top, launching herself into the air and connecting with a picture-perfect moonsault onto Liv, who was still reeling from Rhea’s earlier assault. Tiffany quickly rolled out of the way, landing on her feet as Liv remained sprawled on the mat.

With Liv unable to recover in time, Rhea wasted no time going for the pretzel pin as the referee slid into position, counting—one, two, three.

The bell rang, signaling the win for Rhea and Tiffany as Rhea’s theme roared in the background. As the crowd erupted in cheers, the two women exchanged a long glance, their tension momentarily forgotten as they stood victorious in the ring.

“You actually didn’t get yourself pinned, princess,” Rhea muttered, walking toward Tiffany, who was staring as she stood up holding her stomach. Tiffany took a long look at Liv remembering that she had her briefcase, with Raquel out of the ring, her mind had an impulsive thought. She ignored Rhea’s comment actually leaving the ring making her way to the time keepers area grabbing her briefcase staring at it longingly before looking back up at Rhea who looked completely serious.

“Don’t you even think about it. You cash that in and Liv and Raquel will be the least of your worries, you’ll have me to deal with.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, I can cash this in when I want and wherever I want” she shot back before clutching onto her pink briefcase and starting to walk away from Rhea but still holding eye contact.

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Tiffany had slipped back into her hotel room, her hair styled in an elegant curled bun. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to shake it off, her mind kept drifting back to Rhea and the ominous threat she’d made. Hmph, we’ll see about that. Just then, a loud knock at the door jolted her back to reality, making her jump slightly. With a mix of annoyance and curiosity, she opened the door wide. “Can you knock any harder?”

Rhea stood there with a cunning smile. “I can do a lot of things harder, want an example?”

Tiffany scoffed. “No, what I want is an explanation for why you’re even here. We don’t have anything left to discuss, and we won, so shouldn’t you be happy or celebrating?”

“This is my happy face,” Rhea shot back, her grin fading into a fierce glare. “But I’m here to warn you. We may have been partners tonight, but make no mistake—you’re still my enemy because of that.” She gestured toward the pink briefcase sitting on the hotel desk. “My business with Liv Morgan has turned personal. I'd hate for you to interfere because you’re really beautiful, and if you want to keep your face that way, I suggest you turn your attention to Nia Jax instead.”

“Excuse me? While I appreciate the compliment, you don’t get to tell me what to do. As Ms. Money in the Bank, I do whatever I want and when I want. I don’t need your permission. I made my point with Liv in that tag match, but we both know she isn't finished with either of us. If you can’t take the title from her before I do, that’s just not my problem. Toodles!” Tiffany retorted, attempting to close the door.

Not having any of that, Rhea blocked the door and forcibly stepped inside, slamming it shut and pinning Tiffany against it. “Listen, princess. You can either go back to your Queen looking like the beauty you are, or I can send you back to Smackdown the Rhea Ripley way,” she said, a dangerous but tantalizing smile flashing across her lips.

While the situation had taken a turn for the intense, Tiffany couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and something else entirely. Rhea did look undeniably hot when she was angry. Wait—what am I thinking? This is Rhea Bloody Ripley pinning me against my own hotel room door!

“Attacking me won’t get you anywhere; I’ll still be Ms. Money in the Bank. And if Nia finds out you’re the one behind this, you'll suddenly have four enemies—Liv, Raquel, Nia, and me,” she shot back, a smirk playing on her lips, sensing that she might have turned the tables just a bit.

Rhea’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a fleeting moment, the tension shared between them crackled in the air. “You really think you can intimidate me sweetheart?” she challenged, her voice low and teasing, an insinuation hanging between them as the corners of her lips curled upward into a smile.

Tiffany held Rhea’s gaze, despite her heart pounding. “I’m not trying to intimidate you, I’m just making it clear that I’m not backing down from you…..and I do like a challenge,” she replied, daringly.

“Good,” Rhea said, leaning in closer, their faces mere inches apart. “Because I’d hate to see such beauty go to waste.”

The air was thick with unspoken words and shared defiance. Each heartbeat felt amplified, sending an electric thrill through Tiffany.

She could hardly believe the intensity swirling between them as she was pressed against the door, Rhea’s body looming close, the heat radiating off her skin igniting a series of butterflies in her stomach. The atmosphere was charged, electric, and every breath she took felt heavy with possibility.

“What are you doing?” She managed to breathe out not even knowing why she even asked such a question when there was a very obvious answer.

“If you don’t like it, stop me.” she said, her voice thick with anticipation. There was a challenging glint in her eyes, one that dared Tiffany to back down. But she didn’t. And with that, Rhea reached forward, her hand finding the back of Tiffany’s neck, pulling her in closer as their lips crashed together. The kiss was fierce and unyielding, a mix of passion and urgency that told both women they had been waiting for this moment—fighting against it only to find it irresistible when finally faced with their desires.

The warmth of Rhea's body enveloped her, heightening Tiffany's awareness. Rhea’s lips moved skillfully against hers, igniting a fire deep within as she deepened the kiss, the pressure of their bodies against the door drawing a soft moan from Tiffany’s throat. Rhea’s grip tightened, fingers weaving into Tiffany’s hair, pulling her even closer.

Tiffany responded in kind, her hands dancing across Rhea’s broad shoulders, tasting the intoxicating mix of adrenaline and desire. Rhea felt the same way the blonde did, the taste of bubblegum on her drove Rhea near the point of insanity. She pushed forward, her body craving more, and pressed Rhea back until the other woman stumbled slightly, only for a moment, before righting herself, the playful challenge still gleaming in her eyes.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” Rhea teased, her voice low and sultry as she captured Tiffany’s gaze.

“Only for the right person,” came Tiffany’s breathless reply, feeling emboldened as she slid her hand down Rhea’s arm, feeling the muscle and strength there, before resting her palm on Rhea’s chest.

Rhea's expression shifted, desire etched across her features as she leaned in again, their lips colliding hotly. Tiffany's heart raced as she felt Rhea's hands sweep around her waist, pulling her against the other woman. There was something intoxicating about the danger of their situation, the exhilarating rush of feeling every inch of Rhea’s body pressed against her own.

As their tongues danced, Rhea began to take charge, guiding Tiffany backward until her back hit the edge of the bed. Tiffany gasped but didn’t resist as Rhea pushed her down onto the soft surface, their chemistry crackling with every shared breath.

“Still want to keep going princess?” Rhea asked, her voice a whisper, just above the seductive tension in the air.

“Have I asked you to stop once?” Tiffany replied, her breath quickening with anticipation. Her daring challenge seemed to ignite something primal in Rhea, her expression darkening with desire.

With a swift movement, Rhea hovered over Tiffany, her hands trailing down Tiffany’s sides, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. “You have no idea what you’re in for” Rhea murmured, before crashing their lips together again, her body pressing further against Tiffany, settling between her thighs.

The electric sensation drove Tiffany wild as Rhea’s kisses journeyed down her neck, trailing towards her collarbone. Tiffany arched her back, her body responding eagerly to Rhea’s every touch as she felt Rhea’s skilled hands explore her curves, tugging at the hem of her top.

“Do you want me to take this off?” Rhea asked, gaze flickering up to meet Tiffany’s, seeking permission mixed with playful mischief.

“Only if you promise to show me everything that comes next,” Tiffany pleaded, her heart hammering in her chest.

The intoxicating blend of dominance and submission flowed between them, feeding the fire that burned bright in the chamber. The lines of wrestling both seemingly erased, they were just two women driven by desire, wanting nothing more than to unleash the passion they’d kept hidden until now.

With a wicked grin, Rhea complied, lifting Tiffany's top over her head and tossing it aside, leaving Tiffany feeling exposed yet deliciously free. Rhea took a moment to appreciate the view, her eyes roaming over Tiffany’s body as if committing every detail to memory.

It was a wild, electrifying dance—one that neither was willing to stop as they pushed deeper into the game, teasing and taunting each other in the elaborate choreography of desire. As Rhea continued to explore and possess, Tiffany surrendered completely, ready to embrace every moment.

“Beautiful,” Rhea murmured before dragging her tongue slowly over one of Tiffany’s breasts before letting her tongue ring glide over one of her nipples being sure to take her time relishing in the soft gasps the blonde made. Tiffany slowly spread her legs slightly before gently reaching up and taking a handful of Rhea’s jet black hair into her hands.

The Aussie took that as a hefty invitation before licking over the girls bud once more before fully taking it into her mouth. The only thing that was on Tiffany by this point was her pink thongs that was covering the one thing that would expose her completely. The blonde squirmed in anticipation slightly before Rhea looked up at her smirking seeing how needy she was.

“Someone’s impatient” she said before kissing a path down Tiffany’s torso, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Tiffany, each touch igniting a heat that had been buried under layers of rivalry for far too long. She took the strings of the blonde’s thongs into her teeth before dragging them down to Tiffany’s ankles before sliding them off with ease fully leaving her exposed.

“What’s your safe word princess?” Rhea asked having the most devious smirk in the world on her face. Tiffany glanced down at Rhea’s septum piercing before speaking again. “Uh…Metal?” Rhea could only let out a dark chuckle before raising up the blonde’s legs hoisting them over her shoulders before dragging her tongue slowly through the girls folds causing a soft gasp to erupt from her lips.

Tiffany was tough for sure despite all of that makeup and how obsessed she was with the color pink. But right now, she was currently obsessed with Rhea Ripley who was between her legs. The moans that filled the room was something that Rhea could get use to all day, her voice might’ve been annoying but those moans were everything but that.

“Mmm! S-Shit!” The blonde cried out as she dug her nails deeper into Rhea’s scalp, her legs beginning tremble around the Aussie. She bucked her hips but Rhea’s gaze turned cold as she placed her hand on her lower stomach not only pushing her hips down but making the knot that would slowly come together feel more intense.

Rhea began to twist her tongue in ways Tiffany wasn’t prepared for at all because the moment her tongue ring rolled over the blonde’s clit, that drove her crazy. Sure, Tiffany looked good when she hit Liv with the prettiest moonsault ever in the ring, but she looked fucking perfect being at Rhea’s mercy and squirming around knowing she could go nowhere. The Aussie plunged her tongue deeper as Tiffany began to damn near scream.

Damn. It made sense why Rhea kept sticking her tongue out like that during her entrances or even after giving someone the beating of their life. She sure as hell knew how to use it. Tiffany could forget about the fact that she may freeze up when Rhea comes around after this, later on. Right now she was too busy having the eradicator’s face in between her legs. “R-Right there! Right there! I-I’m gonna c-cum, don’t stop!” She begged doing her best to try and buck her hips but Rhea still wasn’t having any of it. With another slow drag of Rhea’s tongue over her clit, Tiffany threw her head back in between the pillows before letting her toes curl completely as her orgasm hit her like a truck. Her body jolted violently as she gasps for air and rode out her high while her hand was still entangled in Rhea’s hair.

Rhea rolled her tongue over the girl’s clit a few more times loving the jolt of the blondes body before slowly pulling away and crawling back up towards Tiffany before cupping her cheek and engaging in a passionate make out session letting the blonde taste herself in the process. She tasted similar to peaches which was extremely addicting and Rhea couldn’t get enough of it. “You taste just as good as you look” she muttered as she pulled away. Just as she finished though she was caught off guard as Tiffany flipped them both over where she was on top much to Rhea’s surprise.

“You didn’t think you were just gonna make me scream like that and I not at least get a little pay back? You can’t just get away with that” she complained before beginning to remove Rhea’s shirt and matching pajama pants revealing the fact that she had nothing underneath. “You came over here with intentions didn’t you?”

Rhea only offered a devious smirk before speaking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Tiffany huffed in response before taking in the image of Rhea’s tattoos everywhere. As much as she argued with Rhea, she couldn’t deny that this woman was a piece of fucking artwork. Her skin was so soft and Tiffany couldn’t keep her lips off it. The blonde wasted no time planting kisses on Rhea’s inner thighs before licking over Rhea’s clit agonizingly slow keeping eye contact with the Aussie the entire time.

Rhea’s breath hitched as she stared at Tiffany before letting out a soft gasp the moment Tiffany took her pierced nipples in between her fingers. Rhea raised her legs slightly giving Tiffany more room before she took one of her hands and layered it on top of Tiffany’s forcing it away from her left nipple. Her black nails combined with Tiffany’s rose colored ones as they intertwined together connecting in this intense moment even further.

Tiffany licked over Rhea’s clit once more before suddenly attaching her mouth to it like it was a moth drawn to a flame. The blonde didn’t let up letting her tongue swirl and curl every way it could against her clit and her folds shocking Rhea and sending her head back just momentarily.

The soft moans Rhea once had began to turn into cries as she wrapped her other hand around Tiffany’s blonde hair not caring that she was currently making the bun even messier than it already was. Tiffany could scold her for it later, right now she needed the tightness welling up in her stomach to be released. The Aussie bucked her hips against the blondes face and it seemed that Tiffany didn’t mind at all because she was completely glued between Rhea’s legs to the point where she could stay there for as long as she wanted. “F-Fuck! H-Hnngh!” She let out a slew of curses as she felt her orgasm building. “D-Don’t stop princess” she said gripping onto the girl’s bun roughly by this point due to feeling herself getting close and closer to the edge of coming undone.

The low hum Tiffany let out due to the slight bit of sweetness Rhea had to her was enough to cause her to test the waters and plunge her tongue deeper into the woman before her.

SNAP. The knot inside of Rhea became undone immediately as her moans became delayed. Her body jolted with pleasure as her legs trembled before she let out a long exasperated moan and started rolling her hips to drag out her high.

Tiffany crawled back on top of Rhea before they got into another heated tongue battle, returning the same favor earlier letting Rhea taste herself in the process. As she slowly pulled away, Tiffany felt Rhea tug on some of her locks which made the corners of her lips turn upward.

“So Rhea, still think my voice is annoying?”

Rhea rolled her eyes a bit. “If you keep using it to do more of that and less talking, I might consider taking it back.” She said before getting up and heading to the bathroom to turn on the shower. The blonde followed close behind figuring that it would be better if they showered together anyway considering the events that just took place. 😏

After the intensity of the night and a nice warm shower to accompany it, the two of them found themselves lying side by side in Tiffany’s hotel bed, the soft hum of the city outside and the TV inside barely audible. Rhea stretched out beside Tiffany, her body still warm from the closeness, and pulled the blanket over them both.

Tiffany shifted closer, resting her head on Rhea’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest. Rhea wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as Tiffany nestled against her side. The silence between them was peaceful and comfortable.

“You’re not…so bad” Tiffany whispered, her voice soft, teasing just a little.

Rhea chuckled, her fingers gently brushing through Tiffany’s hair. “I could say the same about you beautiful” she replied, her voice low and full of affection.

Tiffany let out a content sigh, her hand resting over Rhea’s, their fingers intertwining naturally. “You’re actually staying?” she murmured.

Rhea smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Tiffany’s forehead before letting her gaze meet the blonde’s. “After what happened tonight, why wouldn’t I?”

Tiffany’s lips curled into a soft smile as she gazed up at Rhea, her chest still rising and falling in the comfort of the moment. “You seem like the type to leave afterwards.” She shrugged.

Rhea’s smile deepened, her fingers gently tracing the back of Tiffany’s hand. “When something feels this good, you don’t walk away.” she said, her tone steady and reassuring before leaning down and pressing another soft kiss to Tiffany’s forehead before resting her head beside hers.

And with that, the two of them drifted off to sleep, tangled in each other’s warmth, the outside world fading away as they shared a quiet, perfect moment 🖤

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Note: Hi! I hope y’all enjoyed this and I’m sorry if the smut wasn’t that good! I was getting super flustered while writing it 😅😀

Another Note: Also I didn’t proofread this fully so I’m sorry if there’s any errors 😭

[keekee-23]

Too cute! 😂

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s girlfriend is pissed off. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. D/s undertones, rough, unprotected p in v, slapping, cum. 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I'll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me, Priest,” she says, yanking her arm out of his grasp before shoving his stupid, giant body as hard as she can. He stumbles back a couple steps, arms spread, palms to his girlfriend, and the unadulterated befuddlement painted on his face is enough to make her head explode.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Damian chuckles.

“What’s wrong with me?” she screams. Damian’s smirk is gone in an instant and his muscles stiffen, bringing him to his full terrifying height, but she can’t back down now. Not after what she just saw. Fuck him and the click he claims. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she continues yelling. They’re drawing attention—well, she is, anyway—but she couldn’t care less. She wants these people—his friends, coworkers, bosses, fans—to know exactly how much Damian Priest sucks, what kind of man is, what kind of boyfriend he is.

“Come here,” he grumbles, snatching her bicep, squeezing hard enough she knows there will be a bruise left behind, and he lifts, nearly bringing her feet off the ground, making it completely impossible for her to escape this time. She feels like her shoulder is dislocating the closer they get to the locker room, and she’s nearly flung into the door when it opens unexpectedly.

“Everything … okay here?” Seth Rollins asks, chocolate eyes passing back and forth between the couple.

“Everything’s fine,” Damian roars, swinging the tiny woman inside the empty locker room. As she goes by, she lifts her middle finger at Rollins, who instantly backs away, hands up, not wanting any trouble. Damian releases his death grip on her arm before kicking the door closed behind him. “Okay.” He sets his hands on his trim hips, shrugging, big eyes and raised brows. “Seriously. What’s your problem?”

Her lips purse as she massages her arm and considers his question. On one hand, she’s pissed because the asshole should know what he did. On the other hand, she could accuse him only to have him deny it, and then what does she do? On the other, other hand—a much smaller, less significant, barely existing other, other hand—there’s a chance she’s wrong, and while it would be good news, she would be embarrassed, and their relationship would be damaged … if it isn’t already. But then the image from earlier flashes in her brain and, not only does she want to die a little, she believes she knows the truth, so decides to stay the course.

“You’re—” She clears her throat because suddenly it’s scratchy and it hurts much like the pain in her chest. “You’re cheating on me.”

The allegation hangs heavily in the ether. She feels stupid actually saying the words. She never, in a million years, would have believed him to be the type, but she knows what her eyes saw. Rhea Ripley—the incomparable, exquisitely beautiful—Rhea Bloody Ripley in Damian’s strong arms, her muscular legs wrapped around his waist. They weren’t kissing, but they might as well have been, and somehow, in her crumbling mental capacity, that alone served as plenty of evidence for an affair.

“What?” Damian asks, the tone of his voice lowering several levels. “I’m—” He pauses, shaking his head. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

“Yeah, Damian, you’re fucking cheating on me,” she replies with more force than she thought she was capable of.

He nods, plump lips forming a deep frown. “And you thought acting like a psychopath in front of everyone we know was the way to handle it?”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” she seethes, nostrils flaring. Her skin crawls at the thought of the two of them together. She wants to vomit imagining a life without her Papí. She just can’t fucking believe they’ve ended up here.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Damian replies, bending over to her height. “You’re talkin’ nonsense!”

“I saw you, Damian. I fucking saw both of you.”

He shakes his head, shoulders coming up to his ears as he considers her statement. And then it dawns on him—she watches in real time as the lightbulb flashes on above his stupid man bun. “Are you talkin’ about Rhea?”

Her mind is blank, erased like a math problem on a chalkboard, leaving her heart in control of her body—and right now?—that heart is fractured, splintering, promising to disintegrate at any given moment. She feels her feet moving of their own volition, closing the space between them. She stands before him for half a moment at less than half his height before reeling back and slapping him across the face. The palm of her hand erupts with fire, tears she’s been battling since the moment she witnessed the embrace now streaming freely down her contoured cheeks. Damian stands frozen, looking somewhere over her head. The muscles in his jaws flex as he clenches his teeth, inhaling long and hard through his nose. He opens his mouth to spin a web of lies, so she slaps him again before he can get started. She’s crying now because of the pain in her hand and the pain behind her ribcage, so she slaps him once again because it’s his goddamn fault. Damian catches her wrist as she makes another attempt, and this is a brand new pain.

“Mírame!” he bellows, backing her up until she slams into the nearest wall. She loses her breath a bit, but Damian places his free hand behind her head to prevent any impact. His grip on her wrist is unrelenting as he holds it against her chest. She is miniscule in this awkward embrace, her eyes looking everywhere but where he wants her to. But when he bends his knees and dips down to her level, ducking his head until he’s in her line of sight, she’s forced to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna make you pay for those slaps in a minute …” he cautions. His hand starts applying pressure to the back of her head. “But first I have to tell you, because for some reason you need to fucking hear it, I’m not cheating on you.” 

She swallows, having her breath stolen again because she feels the truth of his words vibrating her bone marrow. She also feels the shame and embarrassment of being wrong. With her free hand she struggles to unclamp his vice-like grip from her wrist, and having had enough of her shit, Damian grabs both wrists this time and smashes them into the wall above her.

“Do you hear me?” he carries on, with quite a bit more hostility than she’s used to, shoving his knee into the wall between her legs. His knee pad becomes a cushion for her pussy—he’s still in his gear, still sweaty, because she accosted him right after his match—elevating her to the toes of her sneakers, and she is completely at the mercy of Damian Priest.

“Yes,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Good. Do you believe me? Hmm?” Capturing both wrists in one hand, he cups her chin with the other and touches his cheek to hers. “Do you believe that I’d rather die than hear someone else call me Papí?” It’s actually an incredibly sweet confession, but the venom in his tone scorches the honey in his words.

She believes him. By all that is good and holy in this world, she believes him and she is equal parts mortified, thankful, and contrite. She’d allowed her imagination to run wild because of an act of love between close friends, never once considering having a civil conversation with either of them about how it clearly made her uncomfortable. Did she just cause a rift in their relationship? Contaminate it with her jealousy? How many people is she going to have to apologize to? Seth, for sure, although he usually deserves any middle finger aimed in his direction. Christ, what’s she gonna say to Rhea?

“Damian,” she whispers, doing everything she can to not sound pathetic, and if her own ears are to be trusted, she is failing miserably.

“No,” he interrupts her, “you started this. I’m gonna fucking finish it. Now answer me.”

She grits her teeth, rolling her hips unconsciously because the position he’s put her in isn’t all that comfortable, probably by design, and suddenly she remembers how and why she’s propped on her boyfriend’s thigh. Even the slightest friction renders a groan from her. Damian tilts his head, eyes unforgiving, a sable shade she’s never seen before, and she regrets having made any noise at all, no matter how unintentional. His cheek is transforming into a furious vermillion, and the guilt that washes over her is nearly unbearable. She has no hand left to play, not that she did in the first fucking place, and she resigns herself to the punishment she’s about to receive. Well-deserved punishment, she understands.

“Yes,” she breathes, his eyes boring into her, chipping away any residual resolve she might have left inside.

“¿Si, que?” he booms, as if he expected the incorrect response. His anger hasn’t abated.

She can’t feel her fingers anymore and she’s struggling to maintain balance on Damian’s thigh. The slightest lean this way or that sends jolts of pleasure throughout her body, and it’s a losing battle trying to keep the satisfaction off her face. “Yes, Papí,” she says, “I believe you.”

He eyes her for a long moment, searching her face for any clue she might be lying or still angry. She keeps her own eyes open and on him, seemingly baring her soul before him, feeling more vulnerable now than she has in her entire life. At last he pushes away from her and the wall, releasing her wrists, removing his thigh from between her legs, and maybe she misses that last part a little bit.

“Now take those off—” He points at her denim shorts. “—and bend the fuck over.” And then he moves his arm to the right, pointing at a giant WWE trunk on wheels wedged against the corner of the room. She knows her place, and she has her orders.

She kicks her shorts toward him, standing before him in nothing but a pair of Nike hightops, a white thong, and a t-shirt-turned-tube-top that demands the audience to ALL RISE. He doesn’t even look at her body before nodding toward the trunk, and Jesus Christ, she’s in so much trouble. She passes him while rubbing her wrists and when she’s standing less than a foot from the trunk, she realizes she’s too short for this fucking thing too. She glances at Damian over her shoulder, and he’s stomping toward her, and her heart jumps into her throat. She hops onto the trunk, tips of her shoes barely kissing the floor just like when she was straddling Damian’s thigh.

The smack to her right ass cheek echoes throughout the locker room, same with the slap to her left, and she yelps.  Damian grabs her hair and pulls, arching her back into a spine-busting half-circle. He lets go, but before she can fall forward, one of his huge hands clamps over her mouth and holds her in position. With the other, he wrenches at her thong to pull it aside—she hears the material rip at the same time—then bends her leg at the knee and props it onto the trunk beside her.

“You know, the jealousy is kinda sexy on you,” Damian comments. Now she feels his hand working at his pants as it bumps against her sore ass. Then comes a different kind of smacking as he swats the sensitive skin with the underside of his rigid cock. He traces the head along both cheeks and along the crack, on down until she feels the huge, blunt head at her soaking entrance. “But don’t you ever fucking slap me again.”

Without warning, he is wholly sheathed inside her, his hips slamming into hers. She cries out from behind his hand, clutching his wrist with one hand as the other claws at the trunk in a desperate search for leverage to launch herself away. Damian is not a small man, in any way, shape, or form, so he’s always allowed her a few minutes to get used to his size. Not this time. This is her penance. He squeezes her hip, in full control of her body, and he’s simply using her pussy to get off now, without regard for her pleasure. She feels almost like a fleshlight, but her hormones are confused because she’s wet as fuck and, whether he likes it or not, she’s liable to get off just from him fucking her.

Damian stretches across her backside, her spine still bowed, and his teeth scrape across the shell of her ear as he grunts, “Say you’re fucking sorry.” He removes his hand from her mouth.

She gulps oxygen before panting, “I’m sorry, Papí. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He kisses her sweaty neck and sighs, hanging his head over her shoulder in unison with slowing the pummeling of her pussy. “I’m sorry, too. Lo siento, mi vida.” His rhythm starts speeding up following several moments. “But I am gonna cum in this pussy,” he advises, standing up straight, gripping both hips. “And you are gonna walk outta here with it dripping down your thighs.”

“Yes, Papí.”

“Because I fucking love you.”

She groans, bucking back against him. “I love you, baby.”

One final thrust and he makes good on his promise. He even squeezes the base of his cock to make sure every drop is inside her before pulling out. He’s much more gentle with her now, his enormous hands sliding up her back to her shoulder and arm so he can assist her into a standing position. As soon as she turns to him, she grabs his face and pulls his lips to hers. Their kiss is long, deliberate, and by the time they’re finished, his hands are cupping her face and hers are clutching his neck, and goddamn it, she’s so fucking stupid. But love makes people do crazy things.

“Now what do I do?” she asks, holding up the tattered side of her thong. Damian inspects the damage, then takes the lacey material in both hands and rips it into several pieces, which fall one by one to the floor.

“Problem solved.”

🎀 Mírame - Look at me 🎀 Si, que - Yes, what 🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Lo siento - I'm sorry

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you please write about reader dating drew and she was a wrestler in the past but she had to quit because something happened like she lost someone from her family or she lost a kid or she had a miscarriage…like something really bad happened and she felt so sad that she had to leave wrestling and one night during RAW cm punk uses that tragedy against drew and so drew attacked him and reader takes care of drew backstage please ❤️❤️❤️

drew mcintyre x reader

‼️this is ANGST, depression and miscarriage, blood, crying, cm punk being a dick (sorry ily), mention of nightmares and panic attacks, DON’T READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE PLEASE‼️

against the world

you were a good wrestler.

you started wrestling when you were a teen, wanting to make that passion your future job.

you were a magnificent wrestler. one of the best in the female faction.

you had been a divas champion for two years straight right after your debut, shocking everyone, shocking yourself too. you had won more matches than the ones you lost. you had been tag team champion multiple times. and, after the divas title was dismissed, you had been both smackdown and raw champion.

you were a beast.

everyone loved you. your colleagues, your family, your friends, your boss, your fans.

everyone saw the talent you had.

drew in particular.

you remember being paired up with him for a mixed tag team match and you immediately clicked. there was something in him that attracted you and there was this light in you that made him feel attracted by you.

it didn’t take long before he asked you on a date. one date became multiple dates, multiple dates became with you two officially dating and ended up with you two getting married and living together.

you were living a dream.

and when you found out that you were pregnant you were the happiest person in the world. you’ve always wanted to be a mom, you’ve always dreamed about a little baby running around the house.

so, when you announced that you would have leave for some time, you made a promise to the public and to the fans - i’ll be back stronger than ever.

but you couldn’t keep that promise.

you remember being seven months pregnant, everything was going fine. your baby boy - you found out it was a boy because drew couldn’t wait until the ninth month - was healthy and growing fast in your belly.

so you couldn’t really explain why one night you woke up and felt wet beneath your back. you remember calling for drew and when he turned on the light you saw the blood laying on the bed. you were trying not to panic but when you felt a strong pain in your belly, you felt something was definitely wrong.

drew went in alarm mode. you remember him picking you up and gently laying you in the backseat of his car while he kept whispering comforting words to you, trying to distract you from the pain. you remember him taking you to the hospital and screaming for a doctor while you laid half unconscious in his arms due to the amount of blood you lost.

but you will always remember waking up the next morning with drew by your side, his eyes red and puffy from crying, and you couldn’t really understand why until you felt it.

there was nothing in your belly. you felt no movements at all, you felt no pressure at all, just nothing at all. and when your eyes met his, you immediately understood.

you remember when drew immediately stood up and went to hug you when you started screaming for your baby. drew didn’t know what to do because there wasn’t much he could have done. he heard you crying and screaming, begging the doctors to let you see the baby, your baby.

and from that day everything changed.

the news about you losing the baby quickly went worldwide. someone at the hospital might have spread the rumour that somehow reached the media and from that day your life became constantly hell.

you kept receiving condolences, from your family and friends, from the fans, from the company but those messages of support only marked the loss you just had.

drew took time off.

because he was there and he saw how bad you were suffering from that. he lost a baby too but he was losing you.

you stopped eating, you stopped sleeping, you basically stopped living. everytime you tried to sleep, you would wake up followed by nightmares, or good dreams about the life you could have had. and those dreams were the worst. because you knew you couldn’t have it now.

every night drew would let you in his arms, holding you while you cried and then eventually he would help you fall asleep again.

you didn’t let anyone in. not your family, not your friends. your best friend rhea was worried sick about you. she kept constantly asking drew to keep him updated about your health. she wanted to be there for you but you wouldn’t let her in.

after a few months and after many therapy sessions, you started living a little more. you lost a lot of weight and you barely recognised yourself. you lost your muscles, you lost your youth.

so, small steps. you started eating a bit more, sleeping a little better and started taking care of your look again. you started talking a little more with your family and friends. everyone noticed that you weren’t the same person anymore and that the person everyone knew and loved probably wouldn’t come back. but you were trying your best and everyone noticed that too.

drew came back to work and you both agreed to be together in this. you followed him everywhere, everytime he had a show in a different city. mostly because he didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone and because you couldn’t trust yourself if left alone for a long period of time.

you told everyone that you weren’t ready to come back. you didn’t know if you had the strength to ever come back wrestling again.

but you were there and making small steps.

you were glad your husband came back to the place he loved. you saw his behaviour changing in positive again and you were happy for him. you weren’t healed but seeing your husband getting more confident each day made you happy.

however when the whole feud with cm punk started, you felt a little uneasy. you knew how he was and you never liked him. you got to work with him back then, before he got fired and even back then, you never liked him. he always made sure to get on everyone nerves, he always had something to say, something to lie about and you couldn’t stand him.

he didn’t care about the people he hurt, he just cared about having it in his way. and one night in particular made you sick to your stomach.

you were backstage with rhea and damian watching your husband segment against cm punk, right after his loss at summerslam. and punk was pissed, he knew he lost that night and he couldn’t get over it. so he started insulting and insulting drew, but knowing your husband you knew he wouldn’t care.

“oh so you’re the big man just because you won” punk screamed into the mic. your husband look remained unfazed, and that made you smile “cheating won’t get you anywhere mcintyre”

“punk, if you weren’t so obsessed with your ego you would have easily won that match…” he chuckled making the crowd laugh “but you had to mess it up, you hit rollins, you pissed him off and then you pissed me off…and that costed your victory” the crowd cheered.

your husband was testing punk, two hotheads in the same room were nothing but pure chaos.

drew chuckled when he heard the crowd cheering for him “you know, it’s your stubbornness that makes you lose and lose repeatedly, you ain’t nothing but scam” drew laughed “there’s nothing i can do if all you have in you is defeat…”

“i may lose my matches but one sure thing is that i’m not gonna lose my family, you see, i protect the people i love on contrary of someone who couldn’t even protect his baby” punk smirked. he went too far but he hadn’t realised that yet.

there was a moment of silence in the arena, fans waiting for drew to say something. he was speechless. for a second he thought - did i go too far with punk?

but when he saw punk smirking he knew there were no words to describe how he was feeling so he simply acted on gestures. he threw the mic right in his face, making the crowd scream from joy, and then he began his attack on punk.

“what kind of man are you dickhead?” he whispered to punk, making sure the cameras didn’t catch that.

in the meantime there were you, backstage, watching the whole thing on tv. rhea and damian sat on the couch next to you, no one dared to say a word. rhea never talked about what happened because you didn’t want to talk about it and she respected that. so in that moment, she didn’t know what to say.

the only thing in your mind was the thought of your baby.

you and drew made a promise - you wouldn’t talk about the baby. you wouldn’t even say the word “baby”. it brought back to many bad memories and you both tried to go on with your lives.

but now punk made all the progress you made worthless. because you were there, sitting on the couch, your eyes fixed on the tv but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was playing trick on you.

that little bundle of joy that you imagined walked into your heart, mind, soul and lives and no matter what he wouldn’t have left, but you tried to move on.

so why did he have to bring back all the bad things?

rhea and damian shared a look. both too scared to speak.

you wanted to be left alone but you knew that if you left your husband changing room, you would get stares and you didn’t want to go through that all over again.

“can you please leave?” you asked them. your eyes still on the tv, watching how referees tried to separate the two men fighting.

“sure…” rhea softly smiled. she didn’t wanna go, she didn’t wanna leave you there, alone with your mind but she knew that in that moment, anything she would have said would be nothing for you.

so they simply got up and left the room.

you waited until your husband was back into the backstage. no one dared to say anything to him. everyone knew that punk overstepped but what are you supposed to say to someone who lost a child?

drew’s mind was thinking of you.

he knew you were backstage and you were watching the whole show and he couldn’t imagine what you were feeling. your own pain used against you.

who would do something like that?

when he saw you sitting there, still watching the show as it went on, with tears in your eyes, his heart broke. he saw the progress you made and he couldn’t be more proud than that.

but now he knew what you mind was thinking and he wished he could take all of your pain away.

“love?” he softly called you. when your eyes met you couldn’t help but let the tears fall down “hey…it’s okay” he didn’t care if he was sweaty or dirty, he needed to hold you and to let you know that everything was okay “come here love” he said wrapping his arms around you, letting you cry in his chest.

he knew what you were feeling because he felt it too.

“why did he do that?” your broken voice asked him “why…why he brought my baby into this?”

drew didn’t have an answer.

“i don’t know love…i don’t know…but it’s okay love, remember? it’s me and you against the world…” he softly whispered.

“it’s not okay drew…sometimes i feel like i failed…i feel like i failed as a mother because i was supposed to protect him, i feel like i failed as a wrestler because everyone has been waiting my return, i feel like i failed as a friend because i have been neglecting them and i feel like i failed as a wife because i’ve been neglecting you…i know you suffered from this loss as much as i did and for all this time you’ve been taking care of me and i feel like…i feel like i failed you drew…”

drew felt like someone just ripped his heart from his chest and threw it away. he couldn’t believe what you just said, he couldn’t believe you’ve been keeping this inside for months.

“hey love, look at me…” he lifted your chin up “i promise you that you haven’t failed me, don’t ever say something like that again okay? because i know how much it hurts, and i know how you suffered from this…baby i promise you that you haven’t failed anyone, i’m so proud of you for letting this things out, and i’m so proud of you for taking small steps every single day, it shows that you are still here…and i couldn’t be prouder than you” he wiped your tears away “i want you to know that everyone is here for you, everyone loves you here and everyone stands by your side…punk will face consequences for his actions and that’s a promise…”

“sometimes i imagine him, i wonder what he would look like…if he had your eyes or mine, if he had your little dimples or if he had my hair…i wonder if in the future he wanted to be a wrestler or a doctor…my life is constantly made of what ifs and i can’t live like this anymore drew…” your voice broke on the last part

drew was glad that you were letting everything out - he knew how much you struggled during therapy, feeling like the doctor couldn’t understand your pain because she hadn’t been there in your position, but at the same time it wished you didn’t hide those feelings from him because he wanted to help you heal.

“i know baby… sometimes i imagine him too because in my mind he has your eyes, and i like to think about having a mini you running down the house… and i know he would’ve loved you more because he would’ve been a mama’s boy” his last sentence made you chuckle “ but love we can’t live like this…we can’t live of what ifs…i know it hurts and probably it will never stop hurting but we have to move on” drew felt a hole in his chest because he didn’t want to move on, but he knew it was for the best.

“i know…” you whispered.

“what do you think if we go back to the hotel and we sleep the night away and then, in the morning when we are more awake we start talking about our future and how we wanna handle all of this?” you knew he was right. after what happened you didn’t make any more plans for the future, you’ve been stuck living in the past that you didn’t think about your future.

“sounds good…but please let me take care of your hands first, you are bleeding…” he laughed when you said that, loving the caring and gentle side of you, he let you take an emergency kit and clean his wounds.

he softly looked at you, admiring with such love and affection, that he knew you were the right person for him.

[moondust-artz]

Best romantic feud , also