#Roman Reigns x Reader platonic

[joannasteez]

stay, please

pairing: roman reigns x blackreader warning: ANGST.. smut . explicit descriptions! so minors please do not interact! word count: 10k ... now that we found love, what are we gonna do, with it? ...

all that time ago, when you'd first met him, your acknowledgement of roman was flimsy, a shell of nothing, but the simple words and pretty smiles made him run warm all the same. "my tribal chief", you'd say, airy and teasing, void of awe. he was big and strong, hubris making him this mountain of a man, but he was just that, nothing more than a man, and you'd seen enough men to know that they did not differ much. they groaned in time with their irritations, made their problems yours. lusted wild and unapologetically. they demanded everything, in their time, in their way, and gave what little that they wanted. and roman reigns, the tribal chief, was no different. 

his eyes, suggestive and sharp, had taken to the fit of your ring gear easily. the shaping of the fabrics in places and in others, the lack thereof, pulling his interest till his fixations melted something warm and devious into your skin. he'd approach you wolf like, this stalking pace as if to circle prey. grinning amused. "i think you can do better than that for me. a little more enthusiasm".

and he was a tower then, still is now, strides long, full of leisure. your eyes peered from under the fan of your lashes, indulging the domineer of his presence with the coyness of good prey. you'd done well to make the game, the chase, or whatever this was for him, at least somewhat entertaining if not completely so. 

you'd indulged. leaned into the mass of him, one small step forward after another till the air had no choice but to be shared between the both of you. a finger lifting to trace faint over the lettering of his shirt. and it'd taken everything not to fall then, not to give in to the pull of him, like some small wayward celestial object fighting against the orbit of a great star. the heady note of his smell, the strong comfort of his warmth, the height of him, the sure soft ways his eyes drifted over you, like he'd just known without complete expression of words or deeds that you were his. 

your touch had turned more firm then, from one finger to your palm, slipping down till it played at his abs. and a grin had curled, amused now too, feeling the rushing in his blood. "i can be a whole lot better for you, you gotta earn that though".

but your words, so teasing and strong then, built firm and made off your tongue to last, were not as reliable as you'd thought they'd be, for the gravity of him was this overwhelming thing. and before the rush of it could settle, before the excitement of lust could wane, you found yourself with him at every corner or surface available. your legs wrapped in his, your lips wet and your tongue tangled, pushing and licking to taste him. your breaths caught forever, short and desperate as they fought to be full. he felt good and the heat of him melted the worry in your bones, until it didn't. 

until the fun of it became dense, so much so that it was unbearable. his touch becoming more nailed into the skin of you, and his words fixing quiet, each more vulnerable than the ones before them. these heavy sinking whispers in the night, your bodies laying sated and damp, thighs aching and your blood rushing smooth just after release. arousal still sticky between your legs where his hands and mouth had been. from him came these words, forming to sound like something similar to forever. but by then it was too late, to stop, to take back, to slip away from under him. 

and in the midst of fighting and failing to keep away from his body, and his quiet bed time passions, creatives of the smackdown brand championed the idea of a more feminine edge to the bloodline. someone who could rough and tough it, take a bump and bounce back for more. someone who could smile and charm and manipulate. someone who could, in the blink of an eye turn vicious if need be. a character that had draw, that could have the crowd eating from their palm. and though yes, roman was not starved of womanly support by way of the viewership, the faction was in sore need still of a lighter touch. something, or rather someone less naturally brutish, that did not wreak of ego or that larger than life self importance. and so, from a charismatic mid-carder, to the upper echelon, you rose and dominated as an entity connected to the infamous crew. 

the full silver of your ring gear slowly altered to accommodate the overwhelming red and black, his colors, till there was a more even mix. and it all spoke without words, the black and red these leading lines, binding you to the one called the tribal chief. 

a botched spot in the ring kept you away for some time. a few months of recovery, the perfect amount of time to go cold turkey from roman. 

and though he called and texted and face timed, his constant travels and your inconsistencies left him hallow. an emptiness that soon would leave his ego to pulse with a bruising pain. he thought, in the midst of all those months of your recovery, that it was just the tingling in his fingers that he needed gone, these simple bouts of lust that could be easily remedied. but it was more than that it seemed. aches in his chest and this drawing pull in his skin. a helpless sort of longing. 

he wrestled harder in those months, brutal, bordering relentless. when you wouldn't answer at all, or would only answer with few words, he pushed the fire of his anger, drove it through muscle and nerve, about the bones that built him till it was all he could feel. 

why the fuck were you dodging him?

and all that fire, that white hot anger, attempting to purge his bones of you, flared and burst wild till it could no longer. flared to consume him till it proved shallow and here you were, under his eyes again. the silver-red-black of your ring gear calling his fingers to run against it, the tips where his nerves live itching to flex and curl into your skin. the curve in there where your hip dips, the muscles in him remembering well as the feelings there form back to life with excitement. 

you look as good as you did pre-injury. maybe even a little better. 

he makes himself known, the tone of him rich, stunning. something dark amidst the allure. you'd forgotten how well it arrested you. 

"hows your arm?"

"bendable, so it's fine". 

you do little to acknowledge him, afraid of what even a little eye contact can do to the strength of already weak resolve, but you move your newly healed arm about rather flimsily, showing him just enough so he can go about his business. 

the carpet ruffles with his every step. closer and closer he gets. your heart knocking into your chest. "recovery must've been good, should've been", his breath warm and feathering along your neck. your fingers moving with a slight shake as you make to clean an already clean vanity. "had to have been", his fingers taking a small trace over your shoulders to hold you there, "cause i barely heard a thing from you". his thumbs sooth into the fabric, soft and remembering. 

your breath hitches, the tip of his nose running small at the line of your neck. and none of those months of recovery mean anything in the slightest, save for the healing of your arm. your pulse quickens and beats harsh, same as it did before, skin taking to a slight tremble as the warmth of him surrounds you here. and your own fingers, working to burrow into the hard shape of the vanity, itch to touch him too, though something nags at you to fight against him. to war with the resolute way his touch fastens to your body. 

"i didn't realize you were my keeper". 

he sighs, slightly annoyed by the way your words fight to push against his own, but it doesn't stop the straying of his lips along your skin. skimming where they please till they pull in to leave a faint kiss at your pulse. "you've been ignoring me".

"apparently not enough". 

he laughs, pulls your hips close till they flush against him, and laughs some more. his mouth parting just at the shell of your ear. "you're not convincing", his fingers flexing, a firm pulling as they make their way to play between your thighs at the fabric covering where they'd itched and feened to be. "not even a little bit". 

and how you'd gotten here, falling so fast back into him to be consumed, back into the deft maneuver of his fingers and the heat of his mouth, was not at all lost on you. just as similar as it was not all that lost on him either, to feel your skin and the faint release of your breaths. fighting on his own for months to undo you from him, all for nothing. both affected in full by the other, thirsty and bordering impatient. and when he curls in past the stretchy material to slip against the wet of your slit, your hips move with a mind all their own, seeking a harsher friction. 

heat braces your skin, head lulling forward. your hips shifting rigid, fighting to still and losing as they chase the smooth circling of his touch. "roman", breathy. urgent. 

"no, no, no, no, no", his free hand firmly at your neck. an upward motion to reveal your eyes again. "you don't run from me, not when you want it this badly". his finger slipping further to sink in knuckle deep. the push in of them lax and patient. a pace he takes to feel you throb for him. with every second, the length of it steeping in the soaked mess of you. 

you gather words, a sloppy attempt to fire back at him and it fails as you moan through it. "who said i wanted this or you". 

"you know what it is babygirl", the speed of his touch urged on by his ego. his need to prove you wrong. you want him, you want him and he knows it. if not for words then he knows it with how eager your hips grind into his fingers. the slip of your pussy easy and hungry as it pulses. so much so that it resounds into the dead air of the dressing room, the tune of it forcing his hips to rut into you. "you don't want it, you tell me and i stop". he breathes hot and hectic into your skin, into your neck, kissing between takes of air. fingers thick and glistening under harsh fluorescent lights as they curve in to fuck you deep. "c'mon, tell me how much you don't need it, how much you don't need me", eyes brown and blistered. of course you needed him, of fucking course you do how could you not? when he needed you. "c'mon sweetheart, tell me so i can leave". a tear struck the apple of your cheek, a simple roll that told of everything. your skin twitched and your muscles ached, ready to feel the draw out of release, but the cage of your chest rattled, flaming with a need to say something long unspoken.

but to do it, to say it, would be worse than breaking a bone. worse than the raw opening of slit skin. to give in to him, would be the end of it all. 

"fuck", a whimper breaking. wrecking the strength of your voice. your hips working to rut against the curl in of his fingers. your head lulls at an angle to sink into his chest. hands free from the vanity as you grab to hold onto him. "keep it there baby, please". 

"yeah?", his neck craning to take your lips with his. tongue messy and suckling. and his fingers move with vigor, arm taut and muscle bound, veins striking against his skin. something similar to lightning. "and when you come what do you say?"

your breath catches and the sharp ways of your vision blur. the coil wound up in your core bursting wild at the seams as you rut and drip against the softening thrust of roman's fingers. your lips trembling as words flow hot and feverish. "th-thankyouthankyouthankyou". 

even if the body was not made to do so, you could fly high, tumble, knock into, break at, and push over just about anything in ring. it's what made the rise from the mid-card so satisfying. it's what made the star studded rivalries so well anticipated and stunning. women of a particular caliber, head to head, their bodies and their wits and their wills stressed and strained until only one remained. at it's core, the work all by it's lonesome was easy. tiresome yes, but the pursuit of winning, that bright gold belt about the waist, was all a singleminded affair. easy. but the presence of him was, is, a storm. difficult to escape. reckless. ungovernable. and it seemed that the drifting of his eyes to find you and the remnants of his touch could not be undone. like a deep soldering under your skin, at the hard make of your bones.

he lingered, and beyond the shallow 'i don't want you's', the cut of your eyes and that cold far away disposition, something like need teemed, warm and fettered to your fingers, pressing slow into his skin, the fabric of his t-shirt, slipping into his hair. just before the quiet, when ecstasy was it's loudest, he could feel it running into him like nails, 'stay', etching red and raw into his flesh. and then a soothing kiss, more passionate, wordless but tender all the same, 'stay please'. 

your inconsistencies were nearly earsplitting. i want him, i won't. i need him, no i don't. it made even the prestige of the women's world championship lackluster. 

you'd won, your waist decorated in gold, but the true excitement of such a grand moment could not reach you beyond the loose way liquor paints your tongue. skin racing warm and control undone. the floor moving with this deep hard shudder, bass bleeding out. the air is thick from bodies, from the unintelligible roar of people. but what is clear, beyond the blur that comes for the eyes after chilly shots of espolon, is him. roman smiling in that faithful way that he does, wolf like, suggestive. clever and telling in the way that it so clearer reminds you of how small and good you can be as prey. something for him to take. to hold and guide and pull and pry at till he’s full. but that look of allure is not for you, no he'd done something fucked. he'd gone and found someone else to look at like that, some woman near the edge of the bar too oblivious and taken by the size of him to know that it was all a game. 

a game you were losing at. your lips wet from the bits of your next shot that seemed to miss your tongue. you were too loose, too hot, too lethal. it was just barely easy to play the game when it was you, denying him and tugging along that thinly wound string that tethered itself from you to him, but when he made his moves to do the same, it wrecked you well. 

tore you asunder. this deep splitting at the heart till you were left raw to the open air. 

'fuck him, you're the women's world champion', the espolon steeped so well into you that it speaks. 'say it', persistent. you turn from him, your head lulling as your mouth greets another shot of that smooth tequila taste. 'sayitsayitsayit' 

"fuck him".

but is it believable? the harsh bite and break of words as drunk lips form around them, bound to such a severity that only comes with the pain of pain. 

the harsh bass nearly breaks your ears and makes your body tremble. you would like to leave, to tear your eyes away from them, from him, but you would also like to stay. 

"you play right into his hand when you do that", a mouth near your ear persists above the noise. the well fitted dress of a button up forgotten for something sloppier and indicative of the loose, dancing, club energy. cody rhodes' face just a few ways away from beet red as he holds chilly water in one hand. 

and there are crueler things in the world, things that grind against the spirit till it's worn and faint, but nothing pricks against the heart more in this moment than that woman’s fingers lingering against romans. the charm of her smile luring him in as she mouths to him unrecognizable things. "he wants to spite me, let him". 

cody snorts, lazily throws his arm about you. "it wouldn't be anything you've never done". and you think maybe you hate the sense of his logic and his friendship. the filterless way he says things. so forthright, so readymade. 

"fuck you, wheres the loyalty". 

his cheeks pull high into the creasing corner of his baby blue eyes. fully amused. he probably thinks you're a damn joke, and maybe it's true, in the petulant ways you avoid and revert inward. 

he hands you the cup of water and you sip it willingly, wishing maybe though that its something else. 

"he'll play cat, you'll play mouse, he'll fuck you and hint at what you fear most, you'll run and we'll be right back to where we are now. so what the fuck's up with the preamble". 

you shove the cup of water into his chest, picking up one of the many shot glasses that stand still on a tray. the taste of it not so dissimilar to water. he frowns, watching on as you glare into the emptiness of the shot glass. sometimes, in these short moments, when you crave things you aim to kill, he worries. 

"didn't realize all my shit was so entertaining". you look angry, sound that way even, but the melodramatic coupling of words tell him you drift more towards a sullen pain than to anger. 

"no, entertainment isn't this boring", he quips and you jab your elbow into his stomach. just enough to make him grunt before the break into a fit of little laughs.

but then you set the glass down and turn in to face him, to nuzzle closer into where your forehead meets his collarbone. eyes forming with hints of a glassiness that lend themselves to vulnerability. 

roman's eyes take to looking about the club, instinctively, falling against the warmth of your embrace with cody. fire forms in his chest, aches with a burning. 

your voice leaves off soft into cody's ear, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "it won't work. not in any way that matters". 

"you don't know that"

"i've been played before. i'm not new to games". 

cody rubs soothing into your shoulder, the compassion making you melt in that drunken way that leads to the welling of a tear. 

"games aren't made to last, that's why they get played, and why people play them. if it's real then it's real". 

"is this what it is now? you don't speak when you see me?" 

dead air and his own words, tired in their anger. 'how long can i go, before i break?', but the break came quickly, the silence disrupting him. he rests but not really, stands there idle as if to feign the strength of a stable man but his nerves stir with ill-control. they flip and they twitch, crashing up against the inner parts of him. you won't speak, and your eyes don't meet. and when the job forces your hand, you grow cold in this subtle way. warm still but a biting chill just like at the cusp of spring. and your lips become these masters of brevity. and he wants to say it here —where his blood rushes irate, wrought by adrenaline— that he isn't too far from hating you. your skin, your touch, your voice, your face, the pull of your lips when you smile, all the things that make him lov-

"we work together, i talk to you all the time". 

and even in all this, he couldn't not move closer to you. one foot in front the other till he was arms length. "promos and in-ring action aside, y'know what i mean". 

you fight your own urges. to meet his eyes, to touch him, to fall beyond the bounds of those drunken whispers from nights passed where you cursed his name. "it should stay like that, professional. it's cleaner this way, safer". 

he scoffs. something like a tower now the way he stands over you.

"yeah?", smirk mirthless. "and what, me fucking you out back behind an arena ain't clean? you bendin' over in a dressing room ain't safe enough anymore?" each word slightly louder than the last. 

"keep you voice down", you hiss. 

"or what?", his eyes sharp and narrowing. scrutiny burned into the brown of them. "everything you do is convenient for you". and his lips spread in that mirthless way again, bordering disgust. "you get scared so you pull away, you feel good again and come runnin' back. you ain't never fit me in for consideration, not once, unless it meant me sticking my dick in you". 

and when blood is drawn, words like venom dripping into raw split skin, isn't it only appropriate to do the same? to do him in with the violence he so easily struck with first?

"once upon a time i didn't have to consider you", meeting him with words, cold and mocking. "i paid you fucking dust and when i did acknowledge you, you were grateful for it". vexed and thrilled, you watch the silent ways his rage manifests. the flaring in his nose and the shifting in his jaw. beneath where heaps of muscle lie, just there at his chest, falters this steady beating. a deep plunging of his ego. it makes you smile, nicks pain into your heart just the same. "maybe we should revisit that and stay there, and not be so damn emotional about it".

he recedes into something like pity. "whoever he was before me, he did a number on you". 

it's this rupturing that hurts the most. the pain of it, a distant memory long remembered. this great big wound. raw and the skin so tattered still and messily undone. "you don't know me". 

"exactly", roman urges. still above it all, wanting to know something. the slightest thing. anything. 

you leave, slamming the dressing room door.

it was as if the spite of him, that which that'd already existed —a small, near idle thing, had reared it's head to tear through him again. seemingly more brutal than before. whether cruel or not, whether it worked or not, he'd made the effort, against his better judgement to see you bend. not to break no, but to see something other than the usual push and pull that became the mainstay of whatever this thing was between the two of you. that night at the club—his own go at drawing up some jealousy, an attempt at cracking your little shell of resistance, to see if you even cared, but still he didn't know. not for sure anyways. so here he was, needy, spiteful, and a short ways away from brutal as sweat broke from his brows and a frustrated groan from his lips. hips swinging in lethal, teeth gritting, and the core of him coiling tight. 

he couldn't remember her name, no, but she was too similar to pass on. she ran just parallel enough to you that it could work. similar skin tone, the nonchalance, the coy silence of the eyes, sly slim touches that roughed into something harsh—near skin splitting. but when she spoke, the puzzle piece couldn't quite fit. her pitch too bright, not bitty enough. it didn't wreck through him the same, didn't rush in to him or thrum his blood but he couldn't complain about it, not when the chase of his release was so close. just palpable enough to satisfy. 

roman took a mild shifting, hiking up a leg to leave the other bent, his foot nailing further into the hotel bed sheets, all to work his hips deeper. 

her face ran into the sheets, mascara smudging dark into the clean white. "mhmm- fuck! i-", her hips fluid, rolling against the swing of roman's. words nearly undone, breaths close to finishing. "pleasepleaseplease".

she pulsed about him, hips rocking to chase the burning in her limbs, the harsh twist up of her core. and where he dug into her she fought to keep him there, soaked and clenching but it just barely came close. she hugged him for dear life, fucked on him till she couldn't take him to the hilt anymore. attempted to possess him even, with sultry moans and the allure of whispered begging. everything he liked, everything he wanted but it didn't quite fit. everything lacked by only half of a half step but it all mattered. and it was evident you made the difference. 

the lazy trace of your lips, the delirium you took—even in rare bouts of aggression—the burn of your touch like a piercing in his skin. the dulling of your eyes, till they rolled overwhelmed and undone. the shivers in your skin and the submission of your body, the skin and bones of you left for him to form back together. 

he missed you, and yes of course he wanted to fuck you, completely break you in that faithful way that he did in times past, where you'd rush in dainty, words like feathers, thankyouthankyouthankyou, but he also wanted to hold you. wanted to mold himself to you till he was unsure of where he ended and you began. he wanted breath stealing kisses that rolled lazy and thick. he wanted to still the shivers in your body, wanted to caress you through the burden of release and even after, he wanted to keep you there. safe in the strength of him. 

and it was here, in these thoughts, where he found the feeling. the pulling in his gut strong and subduing, tugging away from the wet mess of her to release. thick ropes against her skin as he groaned. 

"fuck......".  

your name slipping through. unabashed and clear as day. 

roman winces, feels the recoil of it in his flesh. this awkward reversion where his body fights not to cave in on itself out of embarrassment.

why the fuck would he do that? 

but she's moving before he can do anything, cleaning herself till she's rid of him. and damn it, why can't he remember her name? his back flopping into the sheets, an arm thrown over his eyes. he's tired and ill feeling, somewhat ashamed. 

the woman saunters in, some ways from disgust. such a beautiful man, so obviously successful, and seemingly hung up on a woman who cares less than a fuck about him. thats what she can gather anyways. her fingers helping her slip her clothes back on. she grows curious. 

"who is she?"

roman looks to her, realizing just how much she doesn't look like you at all. beautiful but not you. 

"what?"

her eyes roll. that small sliver of curiosity done away with as she shuffles to adjust her heels."if your'e gonna finish all over me, the least you can do is remember my name". 

she makes for the bedroom door of the luxury suite, leaving roman to fall deeper into his own silence. her voice carries, sweet and mocking. 

"your little nda is signed. thanks for making me come". 

roman grunts in response. feeling the slight rattle of the slammed door. 

from the chill of new york city winter weather, to the warmth of one of the city's many luxurious hotels, came a firm dulling of the nights mixture of cocktails and whatever other light liquor your dear friend cody rhodes had decided was good enough for you. and what a dear friend indeed, always so caring, so righteous and so fucking motherly. his every word soft and urbane — "slow down, take this water, no more of that drink"—and his every look one of knowing and pity, until his glassy blue eyes and lisp-y mouth became resolute, even when in their own drunkenness, going as far as to putting you in a car and shipping you back to where you were now, at the hotel. "you're not even having fun, go sleep", his lips pulling into a gentle pout. his arms a warm embrace till they were gone, and you were ducking sullenly into an SUV. 

he was all you could think about.

...whoever he was before me, he did a number on you... 

and with so little said, roman had done you in to a silent sort of suffering. this shoddily made shell of something —your heart— playing at nonchalance, completely destroyed. stripped now, naked and fearful of whatever is to follow. the possibility, whether with or without him, the unknown, left you stunned, ill even. 

...should you call?... fingers itching to reach, to slip against his contact ...but would he answer?... or would he, and rightfully so, do you the quieted sort of violence you'd done to him, time and time again?... those brutal ways your lips refused to speak, and when they did their words like daggers. your eyes never meeting, and when they came upon him, they bore over him icy and displeasured. like he was a nuisance, or even worse, a stranger. and the desertion of your touch, once upon a time, when the drive of lust and adoration was new in him, seemed that it would never leave. yes, you'd understand, but fuck if it wouldn't hurt, wouldn't pierce the greater parts of you, where strength of the ego and desire lives. 

but its only when the phone rings that all hesitancy of the moment breathes hard. knocks unceremoniously against free inhibitions till you're wishing for him to ignore you. maybe, right here, right now, making the effort is enough, maybe it's all you need to say ...i did it, i tried... and nothing else. your whispers rushed and a bit scared and waiting. "don't answer, don't answer don't answer".

the ringing stops. he answers. 

your breathing is soft, but present, the only thing that sings amongst the silence of him. what is this? after the callousness, the hardy stones you'd thrown into the glass of his resolve in an attempt to break him. 

he's tired but not really. done but not really. he sighs, fingers roughing through his beard. "yeah?"

you giggle, breathy. a bit unnerved. your words rolling off, slightly slurred still. "thought i'd get your voicemail", you wonder how he looks, if his heart threatens to beat beyond the cage of his chest the way it does yours. "didn't think you'd answer".

he's quiet. breathing. "why'd you call?"

"you sound nice". the little thats left of the tequila pouring over your tongue into words. even in his tiredness he sounded beautiful. rich and dark and alluring. "did i wake you?" 

"no". but he can't help himself, in being curious, in caring. "you alright?" 

"i'mfine, ijust...i-"

"you sound drunk". 

"tipsy". 

"how much did you have?", a question but more so a command. the authority threaded in his voice lulling you in. it makes you shiver with need. makes you want to touch him. 

"mhmm idon'tknow rome". and he can hear your shifting over the sheets, as you shift over answers to give him, that would satisfy him. you wanted so badly, despite your fears, to satisfy him. "a shot, a drink or two". 

"lightweight for real", he chuckles. "who were you with?"

"cody. he got my uber". 

is it so bad?, when the hour is late?, to think of seeing you, even if the thought is little and fleeting and ways away from dangerous? "you here at the hotel?" 

"damn", and you're laughing. giddy at the way he worries. reeling with sarcasm "you want me to share my location?" 

"watch yourself".

"yes sir". 

and here the air is hesitant, forming fragile and ill-informed of whats to come. it shapes about the both of you wearily and groans even in it's stillness of how ill-suited it is at holding the ambivalence of this... love, lust, longing or whatever it is twisting about the both of you. it yearns for something new, for something unweighted and free and sweet. 

roman asks you again. curiosity breaking a heaviness into the weight of him. "why'd you call?" 

your bed sheets pinch and ruffle between your fingers, taking on the burden of your anxieties. "i figured if i went out...i'd-i'd get a little courage yknow? a drink or two and then i could call you, could hear your voice". 

"hear my voice huh?", his jaw clenching. tone one of full mocking and scrutiny. after everything, all that was said, something like venom off your tongue in a means to poison his resolve, and now you wanted to hear from him? "and all that big talk, all that mouth and bravado, paying me dust and keepin it how it used to be", smiling mirthless. "what happened to that? where'd that go?"

you shiver, cold despite the warmth of the room. "i don't know roman". 

"you don't?"

"i don't wanna argue with you". 

"what do you want then? tell me so i know". 

"it doesn't matter", something like a grin running through your lips, sullen and wistful. formed only by the sweet safety of what if's and what could be's, because those were always easier. "you'd leave". a single tear slips against your cheek. "you'd get bored after a while and you'd leave". 

...but he isn't him, whoever that other man was, or could be, the one that'd seemingly broken you...

he sighs. "you're afraid of somethin that ain't happen".

"yet", you add. 

"it's not going to".

"you don't know that". 

"you don't either". and of course the fight is natural, this insistent war where true desires of the heart are subdued to the will of something comfortable and simple, because love, even at its easiest, proved always to be tedious and demanding. "i don't make it a habit of getting played".

"i don't make it a habit of playin", sincerity filling him whole. "how i've felt... how i feel still, about you? it's always been real sweetheart". 

another tear and then another, till your skin is warm and nerves flustered. your chest tightening as your mouth trembles. "don't fault me for being scared, please?" 

"clean slate. we can start over". 

"ok". 

and that restless buzzing, the harsh rushing  of the city — cars and trains and people— works easy to overcome the natural fall of silence. breaths passing, his and then yours, one after the other and then together, in waiting, eager but unsure. 

the emptiness is unsettling. makes you restless. urges the drive in his muscles to move. 

your hand splays against a pillow, fingers curling in soft, your voice even softer. "what side of the bed are you laying on?"

"left side". 

you hum. imagining him. hair splayed, long and gentle. "i hate the left side".

"i know", he smiles, small like and imaginative. thinking of older memories, where your legs find themselves curling against his own. 

"it's empty, my left side".

"yeah?"

"yeah".

possibility, this mighty rushing in his blood. 

"whats your room number?" 

there was nothing flimsy about this, the gentle pull of his lips, tongue slipping cautioned but ready all the same, his fingers and palms seemingly made to do and withstand the brute force of many things but taking the time instead to hold you dearly. to savor with his touch what his lips cannot. but when the well of patience in him fills to the brim, when it overflows and floods him unsparingly, his persistence has no choice but to do the same. and your knees threaten to buckle, threaten to kill your resolve, as he cradles your head with one hand and the other anchored firm at your jaw —thumb and pointer— his kiss growing wetter, tongue sharper. because the time away —where neither of you could do more than fight and throw stones and break and avert, gazes and words and touches and thoughts and feelings— felt like forever. and then came the standstill, the white flag. clear air and even clearer intentions, over a phone call of all things. with simple words of the heart. 

roman figured if anything, he was making up for lost time. your palms taking to his beard, thumbing over his cheeks, mouth forming soft over his. 

you felt good, he felt good, but not so much that it couldn't be true.  

and here, where you feel the abandon of his control grow, you break from his mouth, trying and failing to grab for something on a nearby shelf. but he's faster, reaches to grab the outstretch of your arm, flying it over his shoulder. his breath warm and enticing, rushing a thrumming in your blood as he nips the skin there. teasing. 

your nails take this tender clawing into his nape, dipping into silky hair. "i thought we were taking it easy?"

his words mix between the twist of his lips. "we are. your clothes are still on". kissing along your neck.

but he doesn't loom here, statuesque in his anger. doesn't suffer your resolve to threaten a breaking or diminishing to fold under the weight of a harsh truth. knowing whether or not if his words would split you raw for a vicious bout of bloodletting. no he doesn't loom here, but his standing is firm all the same. gentle minded and secure. immovable in the way that it refuses to let you go. 

you wonder if jimmy and jey and solo and naomi can hear him in the pantry from where they are in the living room. hear his groaning, and the smack of his lips as he takes yours. hear his lust and his love and his longing. 

you hum against him in bliss. "you make it very obvious that you want to eat me alive when you look at me like that in front of everybody". 

"am i supposed to feel bad about that? because i don't". 

"being lowkey goes a long way sometimes". 

"yeah a little too long". 

but that night had only been one of the first nights of this mending, this slow cautious maneuver of putting back together the broken pieces of whatever this thing was that had been brewing for sometime. and it isn't until you're sitting in a shared comfortable silence, sipping wine and tasting sweet deserts that the realization comes to you. that this —the sex and the passion and the strife— has only ever been a thing, something ill formed and without definite shape. uncategorized and hesitantly spoken of. it had all been rushed with hushed pleasures and secrecy, rendezvous and an inherent longing that would not, for fear of realer things, be spoken of.

but it was very clear now, as he dipped a spoon into tiramisu, that you needed him. 

and the pace here is easy, as waiters and other patrons breeze by your table without rest, without wait, his eyes and his stillness forming well over the hold you have as you touch him idly. your palm at his knee, raising to take his hand in yours, fingers folding in, shy and feathered and bursting with a wordless affection. 

from where you are, just a short lean in from his lips, his features are not so intimidating, not so all consuming in that daunting way he's perfected. his cheeks are freckled and round and the brown of his eyes are bright. 

you kiss him, take that short lean in and meld your lips till he hums and thumbs your chin. because he isn't him if he doesn't touch you. doesn't hold fast to your warmth. 

and even after you part, the intimacy laced in the air breathes slow and lingering. "thank you for being so patient with me, with everything". your fingers fiddle and caress over his. "i know i haven't made it easy for you". 

"when it's something i want, i wait". 

and wait he did, with a statues patience. but even the strength of statues fail, worn and weathered if left to stand against time and their own stillness. eventually they all crumble, some in such a poetic fashion that its destruction means more than its birth, and other's with a simple, unceremonious falling. but the undoing of roman's patience is fierce and alluring. and as you breathe short, in between the firm pull of his lips, water hot and raining against your skin, you feel the chipping away of that patience as well. and it isn't just the pouring in of the shower and the sweet warmth of soaps and candles, but the influence of him as well, melting underneath flesh and bone.

6:17 PM

the steam forms something amorous. thickens the anticipation and lulls your resolve into a surrendering. and the tight feeding of his fingers into your thigh doesn't help any, nailing sharp and greedy as they have your leg hooked about his waist, his tongue licking against yours. and here in the kiss his lust grows slow and exacting, in a means to savor. making you moan and forcing your hips to grind mindless. his body hard and wet and safe. 

your fingers curl into the hair just at his nape, tugging to pull, to break his lips from yours, but he's fast and wanting, rushing in for another sweet assailment. groaning in time with his pleasures as his hips rut at your soft skin. you try again to break from him, to breathe even if the air suffocates you so, and he gives in. settles for fastening himself to you elsewhere, to supple skin, and to grinding his hard dick at you. his mouth roaming about your neck, nipping with his teeth and kissing gentle. a meager attempt to reigning himself in. 

your touch wanders further into his soaked hair, mouth moving to trace his, to tease him. "we have a reservation for 9", you kiss him lightly. "i don't wanna be late".

he hums, rests his forehead to yours. taut fingers working your hips to a slow grind against his dick. working what nerves lay dormant in you to life. 

"the restaurant is a 30 minute drive", his nose and mouth nestling into the plains of skin where your neck ends and your shoulder begins. drinking in the small breaking off of your moans. "plenty of time". 

7:29 PM 

and the minutes wandered away fast and teasing, forcing in an urgency as you fought hard to slip away from him and the heaviness of his desires. and it took much control, to part from his warmth and the heavy lust of his eyes. from the way his touch and his mouth maneuvered —with seductive method— and the heat of his cock laying at your skin, so terribly close to where you need him. but how odd the fear is here, after the pulling away of all that nasty pettiness and the settling of it, no longer scared of how much he would love you, or how well he could etch himself to the inside of you —with touches and deep words filled with passion— but now, weary of just how unbearable you would be. because it seemed now that he was stuck with you, and that if he would continue his affections with such an intensity, that you would have no choice but to return it. and even in this, your fears, your weariness of this love and lust and longing, were not so frightening at all. but exciting. 

you're excited. 

"tie or no tie?"

the bulk of his arm, where tattoos paint the skin, slip through a white button up. fingers deft as they take the time to do in each button. 

"no tie".

your hands soothing over your skin with a warm smelling body butter. eyes trailing to his as he watches your hands work over your skin. 

"and the jacket, yes? no?" 

"yes to the jacket", but your answer barely registers, and how could it possibly do so clearly enough when the fabrics of your underwear form over your body the way that it does. everything about you soft and inviting to the touch as you approach him. your fingers undoing the top most buttons. the intricate designs of tattoos here at the curve of his pec peaking through. "and just leave this open a little". your palms smoothening away at the rest of his shirt, over his shoulders to adjust the already adjusted collar, fingers slipping against already buttoned buttons, and when the smallest wrinkle catches your eyes, you're already flattening it to straighten. and here he takes you in, arresting with silence and a never ending depth to his eyes that leaves you without words.

his mouth close enough, breaths are shared. and there is no other word to describe the scent of him other than divine. 

you want to fall into him, as free as air and without hesitation. 

his lips smile. "you're staring". 

but it is justified, because shouldn't all beautiful things be looked upon with awe and a speechless sort of appreciation? shouldn't they be touched, the way you touch him, your palms possessing him to hold as you kiss him greedily and without wait. your tongue lashing through firm and without the mind to yield. moaning gentle into him and if not for his own strength he would fall to his knees. is this not how beautiful things should be treated? should they not be adored and reverenced? should he not pry at your skin the way that he does? dull nails sinking in to remember the forms they take as they go. your leg found slipping around his waist again as his fingers move swiftly to claw their way down till your panties push away helpless. 

and he groans, lips parting only to find yours again, finding you warm and wet as his touch slips through the mess of your slit. and he wonders how long you've been like this, stewing in your own desires. his blood rushing hot and fast, feeling the heavy throb your body takes as he plays a teasing touch at your opening. something whiny and dainty tumbling off your tongue as you fight to reign in that wild burst of lust so loosely falling off your skin.

"roman", you warn. so small it nears a whisper. 

"shhhh, relax", his finger dipping in to feel the heat of your pussy. a neediness to see you break bursting in the cage of his chest, his heart hammering at the sweet daze in your eyes. "just a little bit baby". 

"we're gonna be late". you fight.

and you want to say how much you hate him, how much you hate the ease of his touch—such a terrible gentleness— and you hate how it makes you swoon, and throb harder, feeling the depth of his artful handlings. you fucking hate it, hate him, fuck, and your breath labors harsher than before, feeling the seam of his lips as they sit to hover above yours, and shit, his fingers stroking firmer than before, a slighter urgency in the pace that catches your breath and his eyes dim low but they hypnotize you, and no you don't, but, well yes you do hate him, but you don't, a moan stretching in sync from him and from you, and damnit you love him. love his touch and the proof of his lust, how naturally it is born from his love and his longings. 

he can see the prickling in your eyes, the glassiness just before the burning brown of them. and you ruffle your face into his chest, into the balminess of his skin but he does not relent. and the sound your arousal makes as it coats his long fingers is lewd but it brushes over you warm and inviting. drives your waist to grind into his every stroke till release is sweet and so close. 

the undoing is palpable, a licking flame against the skin. short tremors starting in your legs as you call to him. little whispers that beg, "please...please...please", hushed and slurred. 

and just when it's there, it isn't, his fingers slipping out of you slow, wet still and gripping your ass to stop the mindless grinding your hips take. 

"roman, no, what are you-", his lips kissing yours to stop the words and the worry. but he's kilt weeks, hell, months of such a lengthy build up, and your body rushes confused and unsatisfied. you pull from him, just enough to speak, feeling his palm caress into where he holds you. "what are you doing?" 

"its almost eight", his body forsaking yours to step out of the bedroom. "need you to clean up and finish getting ready". 

8:18

at your wrist

at the bend of your inner knees, your elbows

the skin of your neck just behind your ears

and just where your ankles roll inward. 

his dress shoes click back into the bedroom to be met with an immediate assailment. but this violence is no violence at all, but rather a sweet, sultry thing. enticing. and he holds his wrist forward to check the time. 8:20. fuck the reservation, he thinks, stepping till he's behind you. eyes peering through the mirror, watching the delicate way you curl a thin brush over your eyelashes. a dark mascara that thickens and pulls the length and when you check the fruits of such minuscule labor, beautiful and satisfied, the crotch of his pants prove too thin, and uncomfortable. and as he dips his nose into your neck and molds his fingers to your hips, flushing you against him easy, you work into your nerves an air of dispassion. cleaning the dresser of miscellaneous things, fighting the urge to let him do whatever he wants with you. 

and here, just behind your ear, the perfume proves to be intoxicating. his grip nailing in, curling to bring you impossibly closer. but his eyes never break. they hold, piercing hot and mischievous through the mirror. 

in the silence you both suspend, weighing the importance of your plans. 

he nestles into you. the fabric of your dress raising as his fingers pull. 

and his voice makes you weak. thrums your blood. 

"how important is this dress?". 

"important enough", you hold against the balling his fist takes. "i paid money for it".

roman eases to his knees. undoes the neat knot he's made of his hair. he knows just how much you adore the feel of it. he pushes the fabric to rest above the curve of your hips. taps your right leg. 

you lift it, angling it to rest your knee on the dresser. breathing labored. excited. 

his own breath is warm at your skin, "and if we miss the reservation?" the sweet spice of your perfume meets him here too. his thumbs spreading you in a leisure manner. 

anticipation consumes you. voice ragged. "it's not important". 

he hums, delighted, his tongue lapping soft. testing and teasing. and your body leans forward, sensitive and longing, hips shifting away at such an intimate touch. but he holds firm, slipping wet through your slit again, continuously, his thumbs caressing where his grip tightens into your skin. and now that he's here, his patience to leave you undone forms new. bleeds a vigor about his every muscle and bone. your senses growing pliant above him, resolve melting as your hips shift to brush along the wet sweep of his tongue. and why he takes to such a leisure pace, you have no idea, but the pleasure simmering, fighting its way up the slope of your spine, grieves. wishing for something harsher. something less controlled. 

the silence is remedied with a tender "please". teeth taking your lips to bite. 

his mouth kissing, lingering, and you feel it spread. a smile. his mischief slipping into your skin before the inevitable pulling in, your clit caught, pulsing and needy as he sucks, thirsty and unstopping. and you feel arousal drip slow, glistening, his tongue catching it to savor. throat groaning as he shifts back forward to taste the fat of your clit. and though you stand above him, your hips shift ill-controlled and your voice leaves you soft and broken. belly coiling tight as his ministrations grow more singleminded by the second. 

the nails of your fingers find their way to the roots of his hair, pulling him closer and running to soothe into his scalp. jaw dropped and gasping."feels so good baby". 

and the slip of roman's tongue is lewd, caresses the swell of your clit as his mouth works your pussy. and as desperation mounts your bones, your other set of fingers tighten to hold against the dresser, arousal dripping its way past the onslaught of his mouth to run through his beard. the pricks of the hair there, rubbing your inner thighs to burn raw. 

he grunts. "fuck", muffled and heated. dipping his tongue through till he's caressing the warmth of your walls. slow and reverential, savoring the tight clutch that holds him there. 

white heat blankets your skin, fingers slipping to nestle through your slit, laying a dulcet touch to your clit. his tongue wide and gentle as it fucks you. and the sensation there is terribly sweet, solders hot and binding till your legs begin to tremble above him.

"roman", you call for him. tender and broken. he feels a blooming in his chest. heat and an eagerness. " 'm coming". 

and the burden of that mounting coil shatters. pulses hard as you ride the sensation, fingers rubbing over the mess of your clit. thumb catching the soft nub to press against your pointer, trapping it to prolong that rich thrumming that flows about your skin. and roman takes to kissing you again, licking his tongue through the messiness of your release and kissing over your fingers.

8:50. the dinner reservation long forgotten.

but there are many other things forgotten besides white table cloth, wine glasses and intimately lit candles. the once so perfect button up he'd tucked into expensive slacks, now strewn about the floor, creased to hell next to the shine of abandoned shoes. and with all these things, left to be unremembered, is that mischievous sort of patience born from his teasing. where his touch was once salacious and mocking, unforgiving in the way it played well and denied pleasure better, is now just a filled shell of desperation. need running like flares of wild fire. and it shows here, as you sit atop the dresser, legs wrapped about him, the way roman aches and throbs, hot and demanding. cock thick and hard, reddened and leaking as he slips it through the stickiness of your slit.  

his tongue growing sloppy, drunkly slipping over yours, pushing in the taste he'd savored so dearly. his skin teeming with a rushing, this great throbbing in his spine and the muscles in his core as he nestles the tip of his dick through the tight clutch of your heat. groaning in time with his pleasures as he sinks in, corralling your thighs forward to control the pacing, and deeper he goes till you're taking him to the hilt. the build of him seeming to crumble before your eyes, this mountain of a man trembling and undone by the warmth of you. delirium coursing fluid over bones as he stills to feel the softness and the pulsing. everything he'd missed, finally at his finger tips again. 

and if not for the pain and the violence of it, you'd pull your nails through him. over taut skin and the great build of his muscles. not in a means to destroy, no, but in the hopes to consume him. a more permanent etching beneath his flesh where blood flows, just as he's done to you. 

you hiss, breaths stuttered. mouth falling where the freckles at his cheeks live, balmy and heavy, attempting to find his mouth amongst the fall of his hair. to kiss him as he stretches you to take him. your fingers combing over the strays and flyaways, roughing your legs tighter to deepen the weight of him inside you. 

you moan. something feathery and gentle. the fullness of him threatening to split your ears. and when his hips slip forward, fluid and strong, your fist knocks against the marble of the dresser. pain in your hand turning to pleasure else where. 

"mhmgmh", his groan dark, feeling it rough up your body. and the carved marble of the dresser becomes more tainted by the second, the drag of him against the pulse and flutter of your heat so terribly charming. a soothing take to your pussy thats rigid enough to leave you breathless. and when your spine curls forward, head lulling to kiss the mirror, he leads with tongue to kiss your skin. "that's it right there huh?", but he needs no answer. pure evidence here, his dick rutting forward through the mess of you. 

"yesss", stressed and drawn out. 

the gentle pull of you, flexing wet and tight, a cureless addiction. his words slightly slurred, lips at your cheek, trailing to your neck, over your shoulder, plush and kiss swollen. "so soft babygirl". the draw in of him singleminded, throbbing and rutting. groaning as dazed eyes catch the feed in of his cock, a deep burying that shudders his skin. "love when you let me touch you like this", driving his fingers to form further up over your hips, dull nails curling at your back. "when you let me fuck you good", his hips pressing in as he stills, grinding slow, for you to feel him there, where he belongs. "how you need it". 

you cry, a tear staining your cheek. the tremble of your lips forming over his as you kiss him. body molding to him, the go of his thrusts mindful as they work to fill you. and here, he slips in easy, steady still but with a gentler purpose. and his fingers, even in their dullness, don't run as brutal and the deftness of him proves with a tender rocking of his hips. arousal soaking him sweet as it sounds above the silence. 

and the shock of everything takes hold. the ways you fought so terribly against him, to suffer in what you thought would be some less harsher fate than to live lovingly with him. 

your voice stretches out delicately. into the safety of him. "don't leave me", quivering as you feel the building pressure in your body. "stay please".

"not going anywhere sweetheart", a hand at your cheek, thumb caressing there, "i'm right here", and the other pulling you impossibly closer by the thigh. lips over yours, sharing breaths. "you feel me? i'm right here", words whispered and groaning, the stroke of him deep and easy still. 

and as he'd wanted since the beginning, your resolve crumbles as he holds you in his hands. 

your heart heavy. fearful, excited. "....love you....", trembling as you come undone. "i love you". 

he twitches, releasing thick and warm in you. pulling your lips in, passionate and relieved, tongue rolling to taste the words he'd waited to hear from forever ago, when everything about your attitude towards him was flimsy and hollow. and the bursting in his chest is undeniable, a smile slipping across his lips as the heat of the air sits easy about the both of you. 

he kisses you again, lingering, with love and lust and longing. 

"i love you too". 

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns smut #platonic!cody rhodes x reader #joannasteez #roman reigns x female reader #angst #i love the angst #reader may be a lil insufferable idk #shes going through it #bare with herrrrrrrrrr #roman has sex with a woman thats not reader #it makes him sad tho so… we still win #i wrote one of these parts when i was tipsy #these are yearning hours #its smut with decent plot #the fear of love after love is lost #at this point im just yappin in the tags #nah this shit is long as hell omg #but it ended so cute !!!

[smartycvnt]

Injured reader headcanon with The shield members from WWE?

They're practically your brothers and have looked out for you since you met at fcw

When you can't be in the ring, they like having you at ringside.

Roman is very much the father of the group and takes you to your appointments and whatnot.

Seth distracts you from the fact that you're hurt and can't do what you love because he's been there before and knows how it feels.

Dean is just always sort of there. Sometimes he's a reminder of what you're missing, but most of the time he is making sure nobody talks shit about you.

#wwe x reader #wwe headcanons #platonic headcanons #headcanons #injured reader #the shield headcanons #seth rollins x reader #dean ambrose x reader #roman reigns x reader

[kyleoreillylover]

Monster

Roman Reigns x Fem reader (platonic) & Jey Uso x Fem reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: ᴀꜱ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴ'ꜱ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪʙᴀʟ ᴄʜɪᴇꜰ. ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʜɪᴍ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴄᴀɴ, ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏꜱ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ, ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀɪꜱᴋ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ. ʀɪꜱᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ, ʟɪᴠᴇʟɪʜᴏᴏᴅ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇʟᴏɴɢ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴊᴇʏ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪꜱᴋ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴜʟ.

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, cursing, wrestling related violence, allusions to smut but no actual smut written, Roman Reigns being toxic but you’re just as toxic, etc.

A/N: This idea came to me literally by watching the Bayley vs Sasha and Jey vs Roman HIAC matches, and the inspiration just hit. I tried to base off the toxic friendship between you and Roman kinda off of Baysha, toxic and loving yet can betray each other at any moment. But I made you and Roman more lovingish? Jey is just a cutie pie as always. I worked really hard and long on this, so I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 18,893

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld (If you wanna be a part of my tag list let me know!)

You are intelligent. Precise. You never do anything without a motive, without a deeper reason. Every move you make has a hidden agenda, built by the intricate thread of your thoughts and the smart calculations of your actions. Nothing you do is without a purpose.

Which is why Jey couldn't wrap his mind around what the fuck you were thinking. He barged into your locker room, walking over to you with the speed of an angry bull. "Are you fucking insane?" he yelled, frustration etched in every line of his face. "What the fuck are you thinking?"

You glanced up from packing your bags, your expression unreadable, but Jey knew you better than you knew yourself. He could see the storm of emotions swirling in your eyes- determination, sadness, but most importantly, anger.

Yet, you met Jey's gaze with a calmness that contradicted the turmoil inside of you. "This is between me and him, nobody else." You stated firmly, your eyes darkening with an intensity that sent a shiver down Jey's spine before you looked away from him to resume packing your belongings. "We'll settle this, trust me."

Jey scoffed, nose snarling at your words and your nonchalant attitude. "Settle this means talking that shit out, not fucking challenging him to a cell match!" His eyes bored into you before narrowing at your stuff, hand darting out faster than lightning, but you were faster, grabbing the paper and stepping back so he couldn't pull it from you.

"Give me that fucking contract! Are you tryna get yourself killed? Huh? He's twice your fucking size! Why are you doing this?!" You calmly let Jey yell at you and take out his frustrations on you. You knew he would react like this once you laid down the challenge and came to the back, but it was necessary. That didn't mean you enjoyed being yelled at, but you understood his concern.

"I'm not trying to get killed, Jey," you responded evenly, holding the contract closer to your chest. "I'm trying to get him to understand that his actions have consequences, and unless I push him, he won't listen. This is the only way I can make him listen to me."

You softly looked at Jey, hoping he, out of all people, would understand you. But he just looked at you like you had lost your damn mind, and you couldn't blame him.

"Oh, so now you tryna stop him, huh? Be a savior cause your feelings got hurt?" Jey tried to snatch the contract again, but you evaded him, your unreadable expression dropping at his words, hurt flashing across your features. "You ain't in the right mind, you too angry to push away your fucking pride." Jey continued, his tone accusing. "I know you hurt, but you can't let that pain blind you. This ain't the way, and you know it."

You glared back at Jey, the hurt in your eyes replaced with a fire he'd never seen directed at him before. "Fuck you! This isn't just about that, and you know it." Your mind traveled back to a couple days ago. The blood. The pain. The tears in your eyes as you stared up at Asuka holding your title, that she beat you for. She might've cheated with her mist to get it, but there was no spinning it how you put it. You lost.

But you lost more than just a title. You lost a part of yourself too. You knew that being apart of the Bloodline meant owning up to your shit and taking scrutiny from Roman, but as his best friend, the very person who built up the Tribal Chief in the first place, you foolishly thought you were exempt from the harsher side of it.

That illusion shattered last week, when he tore you apart verbally in the middle of that ring, claiming that you turned complacent and weak, using your friendship as a crutch and throwing back your loyalty and insecurities in your face. Then he rubbed it in that he was looking out for you, and to do that you couldn't get another title match until he deemed you worthy.

Your heart burned with anger and humiliation, but you let him run his mouth, uncharacteristically staying silent and let him 'look out for you', accepting the hug he offered after the verbal lashing, even if it felt more like a gesture of dominance than genuine comfort.

But Jey saw the look in your eyes as you hugged him back. He saw that glint of anger, the spark that you wouldn't let die out, and he tried to calm you down before you let that fire burn and did something reckless. He let you cry into his shoulder for the first time, let you unveil your emotions behind that cocky facade you yielded that he knew deep down was just a crutch you used to not get hurt.

And he let you cry into his arms when Roman did it again, and again, and again, pushing you into a corner, not deeming you worthy of standing in his corner, claiming you would cost him and the twins a loss since you knew so much about losses. And when he did let you in the ring during his promos, he would make snipping comments about you, throwing you insecurities back in your face again. But he always said he did it out of love, to toughen you up, to make you- his best friend- realize how great you really are. And that- and Jey always holding you back with his arm and his knowing warm gaze- is what always stopped you from snapping at him and holding your tongue.

Until last week, when after the twins lost last week he blamed it all on you for being in their corner even though you were ejected. You were about to just shut your mouth and let him yell at you, but he then told you to take off your Bloodline and give it to him until you were ready to have it back.

And that was the last straw.

You don't know what took over you- but it was like the ghost of Satan took over your body. You screamed at Roman, the rage you'd been bottling up for so long finally boiling over.

"You want this?" You ripped the jacket from your body, throwing it at him with intensity and marching over to him with so much anger Jey thought you were gonna throw a punch at him.

"Fuck you, Roman! Fuck you!" Your voice shook with hurt and sadness, and a thousand other emotions you felt take over all your senses and sting your eyes with tears as you moved closer to Roman with speed he didn't even know you had- to punch him, to slap the taste out of his mouth, to simply try to physically show him how much he hurt you, you didn't know.

But Jey grabbed you before you could do anything, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you back.

"Take your stupid fucking jacket, and shove it up your a-"

"Hey, hey, calm down babe," he murmured, trying to soothe you as you struggled against his hold, holding you with a strength that matched your anger.

"No, I won't calm down! You wanna keep on fucking doing this? Keep on fucking blaming for everything? Every fuck up? Treating me like shit even though I've been nothing but loyal to you? Hurting me like my feelings don't mean anything to you? Like I don't mean anything to you?!" You shouted, your voice quivering with emotion as tears unwillingly streamed down your face.

"Like I'm not your best friend! Like I'm not the one who always been by your side before you became the Tribal Chief, always had your back, always gave you everything and poured myself into everything that made you happy, always believed in you before you even believed in yourself?!"

Roman's face was still stoic as he sat and took in your outburst, but his eyes were filled with a mix of surprise, anger, and realization- like he knew how far he was pushing you. He watched as you tried to claw at Jey's arms, desperately attempting to push him away to break free and let out your hurt directly onto Roman. But Jey just held on tighter, holding onto your kicking and struggling form to stop you from doing something you would regret.

"You are my best friend." Roman finally spoke up after what felt like hours, clenching his jaw and staring at you with a hardened glare that you couldn't decipher, that you couldn't recognize, and it dawned on you that you couldn't recognize him, couldn't recognize the man that you cared for more than you cared for yourself.

He stood up, and you gradually stopped struggling as he came closer to you, his blue eyes starring daggers at you as he softly cupped your face, his calloused hands touching your cheeks, the contrast between his touch and his cold glare jarring. "And sometimes you need to show the ones you love the truth so they can understand the pain they cause."

Roman's voice was chilling, but his eyes were tangled with emotions that felt foreign and unsettling, and your skin crawled at the unfamiliarity in his demeanor. "And once you do that, hurt them before others do to help them, you protect them from further pain."

You moved away from his touch as if it burned you, glaring at him with rage you hoped burned him from the inside out. "You really think I'm stupid? Think I don't see what you're doing? Trying to pretend your doing this out of the goodness of your heart so that I'll fall in line? Well, newsflash, I was already supporting you before any of this tribal chief bullshit even got to your head, before any of this meant anything to you. I didn't need a title to show you loyalty, I just needed you to be my best friend."

Your voice turned somber, your heart still hurting but the anger giving away to sadness, and for a moment Roman gazed into your eyes, really looked at you, like he was staring at your soul. Seeing the pain reflected in your toffe-colored eyes, the tear stains on your cheeks, your trembling form, the scars he etched into your soul with every callous word and cold gesture He saw it all, all the anger you wanted to unleash on him. But he also saw your guarded vulnerability, the part of you that just wanted to hug him and just forgive him, tell him everything would be okay, the part of you still hoping this was all a bad dream.

But that moment passed as fast as it came, and your face dropped into an unreadable gaze, and you wiped your tears, straightening your back and wiping your face and heart of any vulnerability you allowed him to see. You felt Jey's breath against your back, and you looked up at him, asking him the silent question to let you go. Jey's concerned brown eyes were boring into yours, and he didn't need to say anything, he understood everything you meant. He slowly let you go, backing away from you, giving you the freedom you needed.

You took a step back, never breaking eye contact with Roman. This time it was him who couldn't recognize the look in your eyes, but he knew one thing. It didn't mean anything good.

"You think you're the only one who can hurt others? Hurt them with what they love?" Your voice was scarily calm, each word measured as you faced Roman with a piercing glare. "You wanna play the game I taught you how to play in the first place? Then let's play."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you turned to the door, your gaze never leaving Roman.

"Trust me, we're gonna see who really is the Head of The Table. And once we do, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

With that, you slammed the door shut behind you, not looking back at the concerned and stunned look Jey was wearing and the scornful yet regretful expression Roman wore as he watched you leave.

Jey didn't know what that threat would carry out, what you would do, but now standing across from you, seeing it blaze out of control, he feared he was witnessing the unraveling of your carefully crafted self-control. He couldn't let you destroy yourself to prove a point to Roman, no matter how much he understood your pain.

"This ain't the way, and you know that. You guys can talk this shit out like fucking adults but instead you want to get him to sign the shit too you can kill each other in that cell, and for what? Huh? To prove a point? To satisfy your ego?"

You clenched your jaw, moving closer to Jey, your eyes ablaze in anger. “You think I'm doing this because I enjoy it? Because of my ego?" You scowled, the intensity of your gaze burning through him."I admit, I have an ego, but at least I have the balls to own up to my mistakes! Roman acts like he is perfect, like he is untouchable. But I'm gonna prove that nobody is above the consequences of their actions, not even him."

Jey paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours, and you could see the gateways of his emotions through his eyes. You saw the anger that mirrored yours, his protectiveness of you shining through his brown beautiful eyes that seemed to be made for staring at you, but you also saw the stubbornness, and you knew he wasn't gonna let this go without a fight. Jey searched your eyes for any sign that you were willing to back down, and when he found none, he groaned in frustration, running his hand across his face, heart torn in two different directions.

"You're proving to him that he has control over you." Jey's voice turned softer, eyes staring at you with understanding, he knew what you were feeling. Helpless. Out of control. Powerless. He knew even you would snap sooner or later, no matter what he did. But he didn't think you would risk your career, your life, your bond with Roman, to show him your retribution.

"Come here." Jey beckoned you, his arms open as he waited for you to make a move, hoping to stop your spiraling, to reach deep into your soul and mend the shattered pieces and help you piece them back together.

You stared up at him, your anger slightly softening as you saw the concern and care in his eyes. Jey saw the change in your demeanor and pounced, making the first move and enveloping you in his warm arms, and you finally felt at peace for the first time in what felt like forever. You breathed in his woody scent, shutting your eyes and relaxing into the crook of his neck, feeling some of the tension start to release from your body.

It felt calming. Jey was calming. He was gentle. Like the waves of an ocean lapping against the shore, slowly eroding the jagged edges of your anger.

Jey gently slid the contract out of your arms, setting it down on the table and sliding a hand up your body, stroking the back of your hair gently, as if he could mend your emotions with a single touch.

"Remember Hell in a Cell, when I went through all that pain, all that suffering, just to prove something to Roman? To prove I was worthy, to prove that I can bleed for this family, that I can be the guy for the family?"Jey's voice broke through the comfortable silence, his arms tightening around you at the memory.

You nodded against his neck, recalling the match vividly. The anguish, the pain, the brutality, the utter disconempt and fear of that night etched into your memory. The absolute hurt on Jey's face as you watched him watch Roman force Jimmy into a chokehold, forcing him to watch his brother in agony, screaming I quit over and over again until Roman finally let go of Jimmy, making Jey shake his hand before officially becoming Tribal Chief.

Rikishi doned him with the red flowers around his neck, Jey's heart heaving with pain and hurt as you shook Roman's hand in congratulations before making a beeline for the cell, your smile dropping as soon as you turned to the Twins and took in Jey's pained and saddened features, the bruises on his body making you want to shield him from anyone and anything as you dropped to your knees and hugged him so tight he almost couldn't breathe.

You and Jimmy helped him to the back, and it was that night you truly saw how twisted you have made Roman become by pushing him to become the Tribal Chief.

You wanted the best for your friend, for the family, but at what cost?

Jey pulled away, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You remember how it felt, right? The pain, the helplessness. Do you really want to go through that again?"

You shut your eyes, trying to ignore his logic and just focus on how you felt. On how Roman made you feel. But Jey wouldn't let you make the same mistakes he did.

"Open your eyes, babe. This aint just about you and Roman. It's about the whole family. You're not just putting yourself through hell; you're putting everyone through it. You're putting me through it. You're putting Roman through it. Hell, you're even putting Jimmy and the others through it. And you know what that's gonna accomplish? Nothing." Jey's hand firmly gripped your chin, making you open your eyes, and the raw sincerity and honesty in his eyes cut through the haze of your emotions.

"Because at the end of the day, this is what he wants. He wants to push you to your limits, to see how far you're willing to go for him. And if you go through with this, he'll think he's won. He'll think he's broken you."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing at Jey's words, his eyes penetrating the stubborn walls you had built around yourself like he had done a thousand times. Roman could get under your skin with ease, but Jey could do something he couldn't and that was reach your heart.

You couldn't lie to yourself and say Jey didn't have a point, he did. But the darker part of you craved the satisfaction of proving Roman wrong, of making him regret ever thinking you were a pawn in his game that the could just play. You wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you, tear his ego to fucking bits, and if you had to take his title and put your body through hell to teach him to not bite the hand that fed him, you were more than willing.

"He can't break me, because I'm the one that built him. I'm the reason he's Tribal Chief in the first place." You pulled back a bit, looking at Jey defiantly. "I made him, Jey. And now I'm going to unmake him if I have to and show him that I created him, and I could destroy him just as easily."

Jey's expression softened, and he let out a frustrated breath as his hands traced your jawline. "Please… don't do this. He'll sacrifice anything for power, and you will do the same. You guys are so similar… But where he's lost himself in that power, I've seen you fight to keep hold of who you are. You didn't let the power consume you, take over you. And I won't let it, no matter what you say."

Jey pulled away from you, his hands dropping to his sides. "I ain't letting you destroy yourself for him, let him do to you what he did to me. I love you too much to let you do that." He grabbed the contract from the table, crumpling it in his fist and ripping it to shreds, moving from you when you tried to protest.

"Jey, I'm doing this for you, for all of us, for Jimmy. But most importantly, I'm doing it for Roman." Your soft gaze turned back into an unreadable glare as you moved away from Jey and zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder and watching Jey as he threw the contract in the trash. "And I'm not gonna let you stop me."

Jey stared into you, your eyes, your heart, your soul, and saw the stubbornness in you, the anger in you, the same fire in you that he had. And he knew your mind was set.

"I don't care what you say, I don't care what you do, and I don't care how mad at me you're gonna get. I ain't letting you do this, no matter what." Jey could be just as stubborn, his eyes turning determined and voice hardening, firm and final.

You casted Jey one last look as you threw your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door, your hand on the door handle.

"I love you, but this something that needs to be done, something I have to do. And this is your official warning to not stand in my way Jey, or you'll regret it. I don't want to hurt you." You spoke with a chilling resolve, your skin prickling with the way Jey stared at you, like he had already lost you before this all begun.

The door creaked open, and you walked out, leaving behind a heavy silence in the room. Jey sighed in frustration, grabbing the nearest chair in his path and throwing it against the wall.

“Fuck!” He screamed out in frustration, rubbing his temples, his blood rushing in stress.

Jey knew that if you got that match official, that if you poked and prodded and got Roman to sign that shit, which you most definitely would, it meant war.

And Jey wasn't gonna let the war happen, because it would take your soul away in the process.

But you were willing to sacrifice your soul for the devil if that's what it took to bring Roman to his knees and burn his ego before it burned you.

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"I can't thank you enough for training me, you are one of the best so this is an honor." You giggled at Bron's compliment, giving him a blinding smile as you walked through the hallway, ignoring Roman's pointed glare you knew was on you as you passed by his room, wrapping an arm around his waist and moving closer to him.

"Oh, trust me, the pleasure was all mine. I can tell the future is in really good hands. I'm really interested in how your career will pan out in NXT." You took his hand in yours and laced your fingers with his, enjoying the way his pupils widened slightly with surprise and delight at your touch.

"Are you just interested in my career or something more?" Bronn smirked, squeezing your hand gently. You couldn't help but chuckle at his comment, it was so easy to get these guys to become putty in your hands with a few simple words.

"Maybe a bit of both." You replied, licking your lips, making his gaze drop to your glossy lips, and you knew it was time to strike so this can be over as soon as possible. "I heard you can spear pretty good, even better than Roman. Maybe you could teach me how to execute it perfectly?"

Bronn chuckled, " I might be able to show you a thing or two. But be warned, it's harder than it looks."

"Then maybe you're just not as good as you say you are."

You smirked at the intrusion, turning to the new voice and seeing Roman standing behind you both, his arms crossed over his chest, his steely gaze fixed on both of you. He looked unbothered, man bun slicked back to perfection and red Bloodline jacket showing off his muscled frame. But you knew him better than that, knew he was ticked off, his jaw was set, and you could see the flicker of annoyance he tried to hide in his eyes.

"Ro." You gave him a sweet smile, but he could see right through it, rolling his eyes when you made a point to show. him your interlaced hands. "Did you need something? I'm kinda busy here."

Roman smiled right back, but it was anything but sweet. It was deadly. "I need to speak with you. In my office. Now."

You smiled even wider and pretended to contemplate it. "But, me and Bronn were in the middle of something important here. Right Bronn?" You batted your eyes at Bronn, making him swoon and Roman internally groan.

"Yeah, we wer-"

"No one cares what you think. I was asking to speak with her." Roman sharply interrupted Bronn, his tone firm as he locked eyes with him. Bronn's gaze hardened, but before he could do anything you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, making him look at you.

"I'll catch up with you later, Bronn." you said with a reassuring smile, hoping to diffuse any tension he was feeling.

Bronn looked between you and Roman before reluctantly nodding, letting go and walking away, shooting Roman another glare.

"You didn't have to scare him away. He was nice."

“Baby, we all know you don’t like nice guys. Now are you coming?” Roman's voice held a note of impatience that you loved to cause as he arched an eyebrow, waiting for your compliance.

You gave a playful shrug, a smirk curling your lips. “Sure, but make it quick.” You tossed a teasing wink towards Roman before following him down the hallway, anticipating flooding your senses.

Roman held open the door for you as you entered his office, his blue orbs never leaving your face. You could cut the tension with a knife, neither of you wanting to give the other an inch as you sat across one another, neither one of you not wanting to give in. Whoever talked about the problem first loses.

“I see you’ve lowered your standard’s recently. Bron, really?”

You scoffed at the disappointment in Roman’s tone. “What, are you jealous? Mad that he’s everything you wished you could be at his age?”

Roman chuckled darkly, shaking his head slightly at your attempts to anger him. "You know jealous isn't my thing, sweetheart. But being honest is."

He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together with a knowing smirk on his face. "You really think I wouldn't notice you trying to replace me with a wish version of me? Please, don't insult me."

You raised a brow at the dig, relaxing into the chair and fiddling with your fingers, not giving him your undivided attention. "Ro, you really think that low of me? I would never do anything of the sort. I thought you thought better of me. Thought highly of me." You finished your sentence with a roll of your eyes, but Roman could hear the thinly veiled pain in your voice. Pain that he caused. Pain he needed to be caused in order to make you feel no more of it in the future. He just wished you understood that.

"I do think highly of you. Why would you say otherwise?' His tone was confused, but you knew better than to pretend he was playing dumb. He was baiting you in, trying to see if you would be the first to crack.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you aren’t acting like you do?” You snipped at him, trying to mask your hurt with annoyance.

Roman sighed as if he was tired of all of this even though he was the one who caused all of it. He picked up a remote from his desk, then leaned back in his chair, turning on the TV, his smirk never leaving his face. “I saw your promo last week.”

Your eyes flickered to the screen, seeing the footage of your emotionally charged promo airing on the screen. You watched your words play back, the anger palaphable and spreading over the arena. The two of you watched it in deadly silence, and once it was finished you turned back to him, the contract in your hand that you waved around while challenging Roman resting in his hands.

“Are you asking me to take back my words? Cause if so the answer is no.”

Roman turned off the TV, his smirk dropping as he turned to you with a serious glint in his eyes. “I’m not asking you to take them back. I’m asking you to reconsider them.” He dropped the contract onto his desk, and you noticed his signature void from it. “I’m not signing it.”

Your jaw tightened at that, picking up a pen from his desk and sliding it towards him. “Maybe you should be the one reconsidering your words.”

Roman chuckled and took the pen from you, never leaving your eyes as he shot it in the trash can. You think this is a joke?” You met his stare with a hard glare, not flinching from the sound as he leaned forward, his gaze intense as he stared you down. “You think shit is a joke?”

You leaned forward, matching his intense energy. “ I think you're playing a game, Roman. And I'm just trying to keep up and win.”

He let out a frustrated groan, slamming his hand down hard on the table. He cracked first. Bingo.

“You want to talk about winning? You’re playing a game you can’t win, sweetheart. And that’s because I make the rules. And unlike you, I don’t have time to play games.” Roman’s voice was menacing, an angry edge threatening to spill out.

You straightened in your chair, meeting his gaze head-on, not intimidated in the slightest. “Then prove it. Sign the damn contract. What’re you scared of?”

The two of you stared each other down, neither giving an inch in hopes of making the other give in. The two of you were mirrors of each other: Manipulative, stubborn, driven by your own motives. The difference between you both was that you were loyal by a fault.

And he wanted to test how far he could push that loyalty.

Roman’s face turned from impassive to sadness in a fleeting moment, a hint of regret crossing his features. He shook his head slowly, not matching your challenging gaze. “I’m scared of hurting you.”

You blinked at his words, taken aback by the switch of emotions but not willing to admit it, letting him continue. “You think I don’t feel? That I don’t feel hurt when I have to be the guy to punish everyone, to set the rules, to make tough decisions? Sometimes I don’t forgive myself, but I do it to protect everyone, including you. I thought you would understand that.”

Roman paused, his gaze flickering to the contract on the desk, a pained expression haunting his features. “But my father taught me to never lay a hand on a lady, on those who are loyal. And you’re more than just any lady, you are my best friend, my right-hand woman, the one person who helped me build myself up when no one else would help me.”

Your heart softened despite the warning signs going off in your head, the caution you tried to put up against his words. He was playing the game he was too good at, trying to appeal to your loyalty, and you were struggling to not give in.

He leaned forward and extended his hand towards you, his gaze pleading. “I can’t sign that, and you know why. But you also know I’ll always have your back. I’m just asking for yours now. Asking for my best friend to understand. Asking for the person who helped build me to not try to destroy me.”

Your was face stoic but your eyes telling a thousand words as you narrowed them at his hand, not speaking for what felt like an eternity until finally, you slid into his, his calloused hand enveloping your smaller one and testing the waters by squeezing it gently, smirking internally when you let him. You finally cracked.

“Ro… I’m not trying to destroy you.” You squeezed his hand back in return, waiting a beat before giving him a smile laced with dynamite. “I am trying to destroy the person you’ve become.” Roman’s smugness quickly faded away as you snatched your hand away from his, standing up and grabbing the contract from his desk.

“But since you don’t want to play ball with me, I’m gonna have to make you sign this contract the hard way. See you on Smackdown, Ro. Watch your back. You'll regret not making things right with me."

Your hand went to twist the knob to storm out, but Roman's voice cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks.

"You can't destroy something you made."

You froze at the door, the weight of his words sinking into your heart. Roman sensed this and stood up from his chair, his soulless blue eyes fixated on your form. "You made me, and I made you."

You turned back, meeting his intense gaze with an unwavering storm brewing in your eyes, the tension crackling between you both like electricity. "Then get ready to watch me tear it all down, Roman."

The door slammed shut behind you, leaving Roman staring at the closed door, wondering if that would be the last time he'd have a chance to reason with you, the last time he would have a chance to have you keep on being the glue that held the Bloodline together, held him together.

But he knew one thing.

He selfishly wouldn't let you leave him no matter the cost.

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"If you're gonna tell me I'm stupid, I'd appreciate it if you'd just get to the point."

Naomi giggled next to you where you both sat in the tiny corner of the bar, the neon ights casting a warm glow over the both of you, drinks in hand as you relaxed for what felt like the first time in forever.

"I wasn't gonna say that, but thanks for the permission," Naomi teased, nudging you with her arm.

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink before leaning back against the bar. Naomi saw the sad expression that flickered across your face and turned to you with concern.

"I hate seeing you like this." She grabbed your hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Talk to me."

You sighed, meeting Naomi's gaze with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "It's just... things have been so stressful. Especially with Roman. He's just... not the man I used to know. He keeps hurting me, and I didn't know how to handle it anymore, so I just blew up. Now I have everyone telling me how dumb I am for challenging him. I can't take it."

Naomi listened to your word vomit, squeezing your hand again to comfort you. "Look, I know he's your best friend and all... and he cares for you in his own twisted way... but you have every right to look out for your self. Be selfish. Don't let no man walk all over you, not even him."

She paused, her gaze searching yours, wishing she could take all your pain away. "Maybe I can get Jimmy to leave early, talk to him, sort all this out?"

You heart warmed at the gesture, but you instantly shook your head in rejection. You knew Jimmy would drop anything for you, you were like the little sister he never had, but he was finally seeing his family after months of being on the road, and you didn't want to bother him.

"I appreciate it girl, but I can handle this on my own. I need to do this myself." You replied, offering Naomi a small but appreciative smile.

Naomi nodded understandingly, her gaze still filled with concern. "Okay, but promise me you'll call me if you need anything, okay?" You nodded with a smile, grateful for her support. She was the sweetest friend you could ever ask for.

You nodded with a smile, grateful for her support. She was the sweetest friend you could ask for, and you couldn't be more thankful she was here for you right now. "I promise."

She let go of your hand and gave you a reassuring smile before picking up her drink. "Alright, then let's forget about our problems by drinking them away tonight!” Naomi raised her glass, and you followed suit, clinking them together in a toast.

“This is why I love you!" You drank it all in one go, fully determined to let go for one night and forget about everything. What could go wrong?

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You threw back another shot, waving your arms around and grinding on a man that had been trying to sweet talk his way into your pants for the past half-hour. The music blared through the crowded club, drowning out your thoughts, making you focus on the alcohol pulsing through your veins instead.

Naomi left a few hours ago, but you opted to stay and dance the night away. The man whose name you forgotten turned you around, his hands resting your waist as he smirked down at you. He wasn't bad looking, hair slicked back, a chiseled jawline, tall and muscular. "I'm gonna get us some more drinks, babe. Wait for me?"

You nodded, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Hurry back, handsome."

As he disappeared into the crowd, you found someone else to dance with, it wasn't hard with your confident attitude and red dress showing off just the right amount of skin. You threw your arms around the new distraction, peering up at them through your lashes, your lips parting in a sultry smile. He smiled down at you, arms sitting on your waist, hovering over your ass.

You danced with him for a while, until you yelped when he brought you closer to him, grinding against you more aggressively, licking his lips at the sight of you. "Mind if I kiss you?"

You leaned in, your lips just a breath away from his ear. "I don't mind at all." You leaned in to close the distance between the two of you, so so close to his lips, your own lips almost brushing against his, if you moved just a bit closer you could lose yourself in them-

"Wow, this is a new low for you."

A arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you away from the stranger. You spun around, slightly disoriented, looking up to see the man you had been trying to forget all night- Roman. His eyes were dark with disappointment as he stared down at you, and that made all the feelings you've been trying to ignore rush back. How dare he be disappointed in you when you've done nothing wrong?

You jerked away from his grip, scowling up at him. "You would know about low's wouldn't you?" You spat, the alcohol fueling your anger.

Roman's jaw clenched, his gaze piercing into yours. " And I guess you know a lot about lows, considering the company you're keeping tonight." He retorted, turning to the stranger who was still standing nearby.

"You are going to leave her alone, and get the hell out of here, now." The stranger quickly raised his hands in surrender, not wanting to fight for some drunken encounter. He mumbled an apology before making a fast exist, leaving you alone with Roman.

"Guess I'm following in the footsteps of my tribal chief." you sneered, crossing your arms over your chest. "I would say best friend, but he doesn't seem to remember what that means anymore."

Roman's expression hardened, his nostrils flaring with barely contained frustration. "You're embarrassing yourself. What the hell are you doing?"

You scoffed, his words hurting more than you'd like to admit. "Embarrassing myself? Says the guy who parades around, claiming to be the big, bad Tribal Chief. Maybe I'm just trying to see how it feels to be a heartless asshole, just like you."

Roman's eyes narrowed at your low blow, and he pulled you to a quieter corner of the club, away from prying eyes and judgmental stares. The music still thumped in the background, but the tension between you and Roman was louder.

"I don't want you to be me. I want you to be you." Roman growled, his voice low and intense.

"But this? This isn't you. The person in front of me is an embarrassment, is a disgrace, a mockery of everything I thought you were." His eyes scanned over you, as if he was looking into your soul, searching for something you didn't know existed. "You are better than this."

You laughed bitterly as his last sentence threw a dagger into your heart, a harsh edge to the sound. "Better than this? Better than what, Roman? Better than being the friend who stands by while you tear me apart?" You yelled at him, your voice attracting the attention of some curious onlookers, one of which pushed past people to get to the two of you. Roman's gaze didn't waver, and he stepped closer, the heat of his anger radiating off him.

"You don't get it, do you?" Roman shot back, his voice edged with frustration. "I tore you apart because I care, because I saw you losing yourself, becoming weak. I did it to make you stronger, to make you realize your potential. But you just can't see that, can you? Can't see how weak you've become. "

Your fists clenched at your sides, the alcohol mixing with the swirling emotions inside you. "And you wanna know what I see?"

You got into his face, your breath hot with anger, and you could see every emotion relfected in his eyes. "I see a power hungry man who is a shell of a person he used to be. I see a man who so desperately wants to be accepted, to be loved, to be respected, that he is willing to leave behind his morals to achieve it, to be come the monster he used to despise. You are a monster."

You moved closer to him, your breaths with each other, the air so suffocating you could taste the tension. Feel your two manipulating minds clashing against each other. mingling with his, the air thick with tension. "And you know what's the saddest part? I created this monster. I pushed you to become the Tribal Chief, and now I have to destroy what I made."

You could see the hurt in his eyes that you loved to be able to cause and throw right back in his face, his jaw tight. He matched your energy, glaring you down with an intensity that made your skin burn. "I became the man I needed to be to lead this family. I became the Tribal Chief. If you can't understand that, then maybe you never really knew me."

You chuckled darkly, your eyes never leaving his. "You're right." you said with a bitter laugh, the taste of regret lingering on your tongue. "But you never knew me if you think I'm just going to stand by and watch you destroy everything we built together."

Silence. The silence suffocated you more than the loud music ever could. Everything else faded away as you looked in the eyes that used to hold so much warmth.

Now they were cold, unrecognizable, filled with a distance you never thought possible between the two of you. You waited for a response, for some sign he understood, stared into his soul, waiting for a glimpse of the friend you used to know to emerge from the shadows that you had created.

It felt like an eternity before he spoke up, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering over your ear, his scowling face mere inches from yours.

"I love you, and I always will. But don't mistake my love for weakness." His lips brushed against your ear as his growl vibrated against your skin. "You can't destroy what you don't understand. I won't let your emotions cloud my judgment, unlike you, let it destroy what we've worked so hard for. And after this is over, you will thank me for saving you from yourself."

Roman pulled away from you, and you swore you saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve you taught him how to perfect.

You didn't know what you were feeling. Sadness. Regret. But when you looked at him, all you felt was the hurt that he had inflicted on you, the hurt that had pushed you to this point, the hurt you wanted to cause him.

You glared at him, pushing him away from you, the lights of the club flashing in patterns all around you, making your skin glow with anger and your eyes iridescent. "The only person who needs saving is you." The bitterness in your voice matched the taste in your mouth. "And if I take the very thing that is making you lose yourself, then maybe you'll thank me when you realize what you've become."

You stared down at Roman, hoping to see a crack in his stoic facade, a sign that your words had penetrated his defenses. The man who offered to get you drinks earlier walked over to you, but you didn't talk to him, your eyes never leaving Romans as you just snatched the drink from the tray, ushering him away.

Roman's chuckles rang in your ears as you stared at his breaking of the silence, his laughs low and mocking.

"You can't even hold onto a man for a night. How do you expect to hold onto my title?" You knew he was just trying to get under your skin, and it was working, having you play into him, but you didn't care.

Roman groaned in pain as your drink burned his eyes, your grip on the glass bruising as you threw the remnants of the drink in his face, reveling in the satisfaction of finally getting a reaction out of him.

"Fuck you!" You screamed, releasing all your aggression on him, pushing him into the table. "You finally broke me, congratulations! Is this what you wanted?"

You readied yourself to throw your glass cup at him, but a hand grabbed yours, stopping you mid-motion. You turned to see Jey, his concerned eyes pleading with yours, his grip on your hand firm but gentle.

"Baby, listen to me." His brown eyes bored into yours, worry etched on his face. You turned back to Roman, but Jey's voice made you still, and he could tell you were listening to him. "He ain't worth it. He ain't worth all of this." He tugged on your hand again, and your grip loosened slightly but still clenched with rage. "Let go of the glass, calm down, and we can leave, go back to the hotel, put on that movie you were bugging me to watch, and I can make you feel better. Let me make you feel better, okay?"

You never stopped looking at Roman, your eyes pleading, hoping, begging him to stop you, to say something, to do something. But he never did, Jey wanted to spare you from the realization he never would.

Your eyes met Jey's when his free hand cupped your jaw, making you look at him and his calming stare, his shimmering brown orbs grounding you in reality. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, trying to coax you into calming down. "Please, calm down. For me?"

Roman watched the interaction with intrigue, raising an eyebrow at the way you and Jey interacted with each other, how you looked at each other like you were the only two people in the room, how you gave into him like it was natural.

He stored the information into his brain.His lips curved into a smirk, though it was masked by the remnants of the drink in his eyes as he watched Jey wrap and arm around you, glancing back at Roman, a silent warning in his gaze before leading you away to a secluded corner.

You swallowed hard, the effects of the drinks and the argument with Roman making your throat close up with emotion. You tugged on Jey's arm, making him turn to you with concern etched on his beautiful face.

"I-I need a minute, Jey," you managed to choke out, the emotions that you've been trying to suppress for so long now threatening to spill over. You didn't wait for a response as you bolted for the bathroom, the only one open being the family restroom that was empty at the time.

Your reflection in the mirror showed a face etched with pain; broken, tired eyes stared back at you, tears brimming on the edge, messy hair cascading down your face. The facade you had tried to uphold shattered in that moment.

You splashed water on your face, trying to wash away the anguish, but it lingered, clinging to you like a heavy cloak you couldn't get rid of. Roman was right. You looked like an embarrasment. You were mess. You were a disgrace. You called him a shell of a man, but now you realized you were becoming a shell of the person you used to be.

The first tear came, falling silently down your cheek, followed by another, and soon, you were trembling, sitting down on the dirty floor and silently sobbing into your hands. You deserved this. You weren't innocent, and you knew it. You happily let him hurt others in hopes of making him happy, gloating about your own power over people, only to end up hurting yourself in the process. You deserved this, deserved the karma coming over you for all the hurt you've caused. You let out a muffled cry, wiping at your face.

A knock on the door made you stop in your tracks, the sound pulling you out of your head for a moment. "Can I come in?" a soft voice called out.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before responding. You didnt want anyone to see you like this, so vulnerable. "No."

The knocking stopped, but you heard the door handle twist. "Let me rephrase that, I'm coming in." It was Jey's voice, and he didn't wait for your response before gently pushing the door open and stepping inside.

He immediately spotted you sitting on the floor, tears streaming down your face, and his heart clenched with concern. "Hey," he murmured softly, crouching down beside you, his warm hand landing gently on your back.

You tried to wipe away the evidence of your breakdown, but Jey caught your hand, stopping you. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured, his voice tender. "You don't have to hide anything from me."

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. You hated feeling like this, and you hated showing it even more. But something about Jey made you want to let your guard down, let him see you for you, not for your cocky facade.

"Am I a bad person?" You sniffled, the question lingering heavily in the air as you looked up at Jey with teary eyes, begging for reassurance, begging him to heal your heart.

Jey's expression softened even more, his eyes full of empathy as he looked at you. "Nah, you not a bad person." he said firmly, his voice laced with sincerity. You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief, not fully convinced by his words.

"But I am Jey." Your voice cracked as you peered up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I've done things… I've hurt people, I manipulate everyone… I'm cocky, and egoistical… I lash out at the ones I care about… I'm just like him. And I don't know how to stop, Jey. I don't know how to fix it." You wiped at your face furiously, but the tears kept coming no matter how hard you tried to stop them. "Please… help me fix it."

You felt your hands being pulled away from your hands, and you tried and failed to look away as you stared up into Jey's comforting eyes that never failed to make you feel like you were in another universe, filled with compassion he reserved only for you.

He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring. "Look at me," he urged softly, waiting until your eyes met his. "You are not a bad person. You're just human." His thumb traced a soothing path over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "You ain't nothing like him, you hear me? You ain't. You everything he wished he was." Jey leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think I don't know the real you you hide behind that tough shit, but I do, and you can't hide it from me. The real you is caring as fuck for those she loves, kind as hell, and the most loving person I know. You got a good heart, sweetheart. You're just lost right now. But that don't make you bad. It just makes you real."

You stared up at Jey like he was made of starlight, his words making you want to believe him, make you want to look past any sense of darkness that had engulfed your heart. No one had ever seen through your facade like he did, and it gave you hope.

"Jey…"You whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible above the soft hum of the club's music."You really think that? You really believe that I'm not a bad person?" You leaned into his touch, even though you felt like you didn't deserve it. "I didn't even try to stop him when he hurt you, though. I only cared about myself, I only-"

"Hey." Jey's voice was firm yet gentle as he interrupted you, his hand still cradling your face. "You did care. I told you that you can't hide anything from me."

He leaned closer, his forehead touching yours. "I saw that look in your eyes when you held me in that cell, when you held me that night. You fell deep into his words, his eyes, so deep that you didn't even realize that Roman was using you to get to me. And you know what? That's okay."

You savored his words and his warm skin on yours, the guilt churning inside of you slowly diminishing. "Okay?" You echoed, your voice barely a whisper.

Jey nodded, his comforting gaze never leaving yours. "Yes, okay. Because you're not a bad person for caring. Protective, yeah. A bit petty, sure. Stubborn as hell, fuck yeah." You giggled at his words despite the tears still lingering, and Jey smiled at the sound, glad to have brought a hint of happiness to you. "But bad, no. You're just you. And I wouldn't like you if you were tryna be anything else."

The tears finally stopped, and Jey wiped the remants of them gently, before pulling you into his lap, his arms massaging your back soothingly, your head against his chest, his heartbeat calming your racing thoughts.

"I know, baby. I know." Jey soothed you as you clung to him, seeking comfort in his loving arms. His arms always made everything better, and you closed your eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne and burying your face into his chest, relaxing into the warmth and security he always provided. "I know baby. I got you."

Jey let you stayed like that until you were ready, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, you pulled back slightly, still resting against him. You gave him a small smile, a glimmer of gratitude and hope shining in your eyes. "Thank you." It was a simple sentence, but it spoke volumes. "I don't know what I would do without you, Jey."

Jey smiled softly, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "You ain't gotta do anything without me, okay? I'm here for you, always." He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Now, how about we get out of here, hm? Go back to the hotel, get you cleaned up, watch that movie you were talking about, and just relax?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of happiness wash over you. "That sounds perfect. You're perfect." His smile widened at your words as he helped you up, wrapping his arm around your shoulder protectively as he led you out of the restroom and through the club.

The uber ride back to the hotel was quiet, with Jey’s hand on your thigh, his gaze never leaving yours as you leaned your head against his shoulder, lost in the city lights passing by.

Jey’s arm never left your as he guided you through the hotel lobby, your feet going on autopilot as you let him take the lead. You barely even realized when you arrived at your room, the door clicking shut behind you. Jey gently guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, and you snapped back to reality when he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb wiping a bit of mascara that had smudged under your eyes.

"I'm gon' run you a warm bath, then we gon' relax in the bed, then you gon' go to sleep and forgot about everything that happened tonight and be happy cause that's what you deserve, ai'ght?" Jey softly caressed your skin, and his voice was even softer.

You nodded, giving him a small but appreciative smile. Jey smiled down at you before letting you go to go to the bathroom, but you pulled away slightly, catching his hand. "Wait." Jey turned back, concern flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong?" You hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "How did you and Roman know where I was gonna be tongight?"

Jey's expression softened, and he sighed, a sense of regret crossing his features. "We didn't plan it, not exactly," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Naomi texted me to not bother you guys, and Roman saw the text and found out where you were. I tried to get him to leave you alone, but he wouldn't listen to me." He paused, his gaze meeting yours, searching for any sign of understanding or resentment. "I knew I couldn't leave you alone with him. And I was right."

You nodded slowly, processing his explanation. "You didn't have to worry about me, Jey," you murmured, gratitude and guilt swirling within you. "But thank you for being there, for looking out for me."

Jey's expression softened even further, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. He wanted to scream at you how crazy you had to be to think he wouldn't worry about how, about how much he cared for you, how he couldn't beat the thought of something happening to you, how he wished he could protect you from every hurt in this world.

But instead, he smiled softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

"You don't have to thank me. I'ma always look out for you, baby." He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and your heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at you- as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He smiled down at you once more before pulling away and stepping towards the bathroom. "I'll get that bath ready for you, okay?"

Jey heart pounded in his chest as you smiled back brightly at him, and again when at the end of the night when the movie credits rolled, and you had fallen asleep in his arms, finally looking at peace, the worry and pain of earlier washed away from you.

Jey stayed awake a little longer, moving you so his back was to the bed, keeping you safely cradled in his arms. His gaze lingered on your face, feeling a mix of emotions- protectiveness, relief, anger (at Roman, never at you) and a sense of love he didn't dare label. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with tenderness as he whispered softly to you, "Sleep well, baby. You deserve it."

The anger swelled even more the longer he looked at you. This is where you belonged. In his bed. In his life. In his arms.

And he wasn't gonna let Roman take you away from him, even if it cost you everything.

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𝚂𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽-𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻

You fidgeted with your bracelet as your eyes burned with how intently you were watching the TV, waiting for the right moment to pounce, waiting for Roman to show his conceited ass out on TV for his weekly shit talking in the ring. This was the last chance you'd have to get rid of the thing that had been destroying everyone, the last chance you'd have to get him to sign the contract that would relinquish his control.

You took a deep breath, putting aside your emotions. You couldn't let your emotions get the best of you, you had to let them fuel you.

A text message alert flashed on your phone, breaking your concentration. It was from Jey.

I'm stuck in traffic, gon' be late. Please don't do anything while I can't stop you.

You sighed, eyes flickering to the TV and your phone. Another text message came, this time more urgent.

Don't do it. Please. I can't let you do this.

You looked up at the sound of Romans music, his smirking face and confident swagger mocking you as he made his way to the ring, Paul Heyman by his side. Your jaw clenched, the fire within you igniting as you watched him boast about how good he was, his dominance, his power, forgetting to mention the fact you helped him get the power he now yields.

You sighed resolutely, pocketing your phone and storming out from backstage, grabbing a mic from a stage tech and marching towards the ring to start the end of all of this.

Roman stopped talking at the sound of your music, his smirk dropping and Paul's eyes widening as they turned to see you striding down the ramp, contract in hand and the usual cocky smirk on your face replaced with an angry glare.

Paul attempted to intervene, but Roman shot out a hand, halting his movements, letting you enter the ring unhindered. You strutted over to him, and even across from each other, the tension was electric. Roman sat up from his chair, standing over you with a challenging stance, not surprised in the slightest at your arrival.

"What, not happy to see me?" You taunted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you stared back at him with the same challenging glint in your eyes.

Roman's gaze bore into yours, unreadable yet intense. "I'd be happier if you acted like my best friend and supported me instead of trying taking me down."

You scoffed, the bitterness rising within you. "Oh, spare me the sentimental crap, Roman. I have always supported you. But you said it yourself." You leaned in closer to him, the fury in your eyes never fading. "Sometimes you need to show the ones you love the truth so they can understand the pain they cause."

Roman's expression hardened at you, and you saw a flicker of uncertainty beneath his stoic facade. "And you think you can handle the pain?" He challenged, his voice low and dangerous. "You know more than anyone what I've gone through. You've seen it all. Helped me through it all. Saw how it ate at me." Roman came closer to you, his presence comannading and overwhelming. "But you still wanna take this away from me."

You held your breath, your heart torn between what you needed to do and want you wanted to do. You wanted to hug Roman, tell him it was all a mistake, to take back the words you said, but you couldn't. Not when you've reached the point of no return.

"I'm not here to talk about my pain. I'm here to end yours." You held out the contract, your hand shaking slightly. "End the madness. End the hurt. End the pain. End it all."

Roman stared at the contract in your hand, his eyes flickering at the contract in your hand, his eyes flickering between the document and your determined face with a mix of emotions—confusion, anger, and a hint of something that resembled hurt. A tense silence fell over both of you as you stared at each other — the same look in both of your eyes; clash between your egos and your love.

"You really gonna do this to me?" Roman broke the silence, his voice determined yet on the edge of pleading.

His eyes were broken, a vulnerability shining through the mask of the Tribal Chief. It was a look you hadn't seen in a long time, one that made your heart ache with guilt and conflict.

"I love you! I love you so much I gave you everything you ever wanted, everything to make you happy! You're the one person I've trusted with everything. You're the one person I gave my everything to." His words pierced through you like daggers, each one stabbing you in the heart.

Roman backed away from you slightly, a frown creasing his beautiful face, the pain smacking you in the face. "You are supposed to be by my side! Supposed to rule by my side like we planned, like we always wanted." He rubbed his face, like the words he was saying were causing him physical pain. When he looked up at you, his eyes were glistening with unshed tears, pleading for some kind of understanding, some sign of reconciliation. "Please, don't do this. Don't do this to me."

Your heart wrenched at the sight of him crying, at the raw emotions pouring out of him like a faucet, and you were the cause of it. Memories flooded your mind—the smiles you shared, the laughter he always pulled out of you, the shared dreams that had brought you two closer together that you were now living out. You looked at him, really looked at him, his soul, his love, the love in him that was broken.

"Roman, I…," you started, your voice wavering with conflicting emotions. You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears but they slowly came out, but you didnt bother wiping them. You stared at him for an agonizingly long moment before shaking your head, throwing the contract to the ground next to him and backing away, silently sobbing into your hands. "I love you too. I won't. I won't do this." You couldn't bring yourself to finish the sentence, your words catching in your throat as you crumbled under the weight of your emotions tearing you apart.

Romans face shifted from desperation to happiness, the tears still shimmering in his eyes as he watched you break down. He slowly made his way towards you, his steps deliberate and calulcated as he approached you. You moved your face away from your hands, and he could see your tears under the lights, see the same hurt in your eyes.

"Then don't." You peered up at him to see Roman with his arms outstretched, waiting for your answer. Paul, who had been silently watching the ordeal with concern, now had a tooth grin on his face as he walked up to the two of you, his eyes on you.

"You see Miss, the Tribal Chief loves you, he would never want to hurt you!" Pauls voice was loud with excitement as he was literally jumping up and down at the prospect of the two of you making up. He knew just as well as everyone else on the roster the two of you together were a dangerous duo and everyone else would be happy to see the two of you tear each other apart then tear apart the entire roster, and he couldn't let that happen.

"You see him, how he loves you, how you love him. Hug it out! Hug it out! Hug it out!…" Pauls annoying voice seemed so far away in your ears as you stared at Roman, your heart torn between the love you felt for him and the pain that had consumed you.

It felt like hours before you suddenly jumped into his arms, clinging to him tightly, your tears soaking his shirt as he caught you easily and held you close.

Roman's hand gently cradled the back of your head as he held you close. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered back, his voice filled with love and understanding. "I forgive you."

You nodded against his chest, relaxing into the moment and his arms, into the man you trusted the most, not noticing the smirk on his face as he held you just as tightly as you were holding him. You finally pulled back slightly, your voice muffled by your tears. "I know."

You gave him a dazzling smile, caressing his face gently. "But you might not forgive me." You didnt give him time to think about your words before you were giving him a DDT, slamming his head into the chair.

You stood up, wiping your tears away with ease, as if you'd never wept them, staring at Roman's half-fallen form before grabbing the chair and slamming it into his back, making him finally fall down, his mouth groaning in pain.

Paul's mouth dropped in shock and horror as he stared at you, his mouth agape as he tried to moved towards Roman, who was slowly stirring, but a menacing look from you stopped him in his tracks and made him run right out of the ring.

"Forgive me?" You scoffed, your voice holding a cold edge, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you had displayed moments ago, walking towards him, throwing the chair aside and bending down to his level.

"I did nothing wrong accept believe in you! Believe you actually cared about me!" You fishing out a pen from your pocket and glared down at him. "I told you I was gonna do this the hard way." You dropped the pen in front of him with the paper and dropped down on top of him, grabbing his arm and wrenching it back in a submission move.

Roman immediately started to struggle against your hold, grunting in pain as you applied pressure to his arm. "Sign it, Roman!" You wrenched back even harder, and he yelled in pain, his face contorted in agony, but he refused to give in easily. "Sign it and I'll let go!" You pushed him towards the paper, the strain evident in your voice as you applied more pressure to the submission hold. "Sign the fucking paper!"

Roman grunted in pain as he struggled against you, gritting his teeth to try and endure it. "I'm not signing a fucking thing!"

You gritted your teeth, the desperation and anger in your eyes mirroring his determination. "You're making this harder for yourself!" you snapped, your voice laced with frustration and a hint of sorrow.

"Just end it, Roman. Sign the contract!" You gritted your teeth, the desperation and anger in your eyes mirroring his determination. You intensified the pressure on his arm, causing him to cry out in agony.

Roman finally was cracking under the pain, and you cranked up the pressure, finally making him push his free hand out towards the pen and paper. With a gritted jaw and a pained expression, he scrawled his signature across the contract. You didnt let up until the pen dropped from his hand as he collapsed, writhing in agony, clutching his injured arm.

You let go of him, taking a step back and watching him writhe in pain, the sound of his pained groans piercing through your conscience. You took the contract now bearing Roman's signature in your hands, your mind at peace with the chance to end things but your heart achds at the sight of the man you called your best friend in agony. But you knew if you wanted to keep him in your life you needed to do this.

Your head snapped back when you heard Jey's music play, his familiar eyes staring back at you as he raced to the ring, trying to stop what has already started.

But you quickly bolted out of the ring, escaping his grasp, as he lunged forward, his fingers just inches away from reaching you. You clutched the contract to your chest, the thudding of your heart matching the rhythm of your hurried steps.

Jey didnt even look at Roman, didnt even look at Paul who was yelling at him to help Roman. He just stared at you like you were the only thing that mattered, his heart wrenching with each step you took away from him.

"Don't do this!" He screamed with anguish, tears spilling down on his face as he yelled for you, the desperation in his voice making you freeze mid-step, staring at his face that held so much pain that you caused, causing an ache in your chest that matched the one in his.

"Jey...don't." You begged him, your voice cracking with emotion, your lip quivering as you struggled to form words.

Jey would understand. He always did.

"Please, don't do this to him. To us. To me!" His voice wavered as he pleaded with you to come back to the ring, to come back to him.

But you just stood there, your feet frozen in place, tears streaming down your cheeks matching Jey's. And it wasn't the fake one's you shared with Roman.

You couldn't fake anything with Jey. It was real, it was raw, and you hated every second of it.

You took a step backward, your eyes locked with Jey's, silently apologizing for the pain you were causing, for the wounds you were about to inflict.

Jey's voice cracked with agony as he watched you slowly back away. "I ain't letting you leave me!" His words were hauntingly sad, yet had a warning edge in them as you walked away, your eyes filled with tears that blurred your vision as you walked to the back, clutching the contract as if it were a lifeline, not seeing him go to the corner of the ring and clutch the ropes, burying his face in his hands and sobbing his heart out, every cry echoing out his need for you.

Your heart felt like it was being torn apart, but you knew this is what you had to do. And as you delivered the contract to Adam Pearce and got ready to go home, your mind was swirling with many thoughts, but one stood out amongst the rest.

You were going to be the one to end the monster you created, and you weren't going to let anybody stand in your way.

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You laid in bed, but your mind was far away from the comfort of the sheets and the quiet of your room. You couldn't sleep, despite the exhaustion that weighed heavy on your body. Everything that happened was playing on a loop, repeating over and over and over again, each moment etched into your memory.

The echoes of Jey's cries and the heart-wrenching look on his face haunted you. You couldn't shake off the image of his tear-streaked face, pleading for you to stop, to come back to him. But now you knew he wouldn't even want you to come back to him after this, wouldn't want you after this.

And that was the worst part of it all. You were losing the two people you cared about the most, and you couldn't even do anything about it.

Your eyes were dry from how hard you were crying all night, but now you wished you had more tears to cry, to distract yourself from everything you were feeling. You laid on your side, closing your eyes in a futile attempt to get some rest, to force your body to let you relax for once.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You bolted upright, jolted out of your thoughts by the insistent knocking at your door. Rubbing your tired eyes, you staggered toward the door, feeling the turmoil of the night clinging to your every movement.

As soon as you swung the door open, you were met with lips smashing on yours, catching you off guard. The force of the kiss pushed you a step back, and before you could fully register what was happening, you found yourself being lifted off the ground. Your arms instinctively wrapped around the person's neck, the passion of their lips on yours sending a pleasurable jolt through your body.

It took a moment for your brain to catch up and recognize the person kissing you. It was Jey. His lips were desperate against yours, sloppy yet intense, chaotic yet loving. It was as if he was trying to covey everything he couldn't express in yours through his lips, and you followed suit, matching the fervor of his kiss, pouring all the emotions that had been bottled up inside you. Lust. Passion. Love.

He broke the kiss, his intense gaze locking with yours, his breaths coming out in erratic huffs, mirroring the pace of your heart. His eyes were red and puffy, matching your own, and your heart fluttered at the sight of the raw emotions swirling in his eyes.

"Jey, I-" Jey's finger silenced you, pressing against your lips gently, preventing you from saying anything else. His eyes were stormy with emotion as he stared at you, his expression a mix of love, anger, and desperation.

"You don't get to talk right now," Jey interrupted harshly, his voice strained yet firm. "I need to say this before I lose my fucking nerve."

He lowered you gently to the ground, his hand never leaving your face as he caressed your cheek, his touch both tender and intense. "I watched you leave, and fuck… I was about to lose my mind seeing you walk away… seeing you leave like that… I couldn't take it." Jey's voice quivered with sadness, his grip tightening slightly as if he feared you might slip away again.

"You're so fucking stubborn, so fucking determined, it drives me insane. And that's why I love you."

Your eyes widened at Jey's confession, and you opened your mouth to speak, but Jey's eyes pleaded with you to let him finish. "I fucking love you. There, I said it. I needed you to know. I need you to know that you mean everything to me, that seeing you leave tore me apart, that I can't lose you."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you were speechless. You didnt know what to feel. What to do. How to act. All you knew was that Jey's lips on yours and his arms around you was something you always wanted to feel.

"I don't… I didn't…" Your voice faltered, emotions choking your words as you attempted to articulate your thoughts. You searched for the right words, the perfect response to the whirlwind of feelings rushing through you. "I love you too." With that, you pushed your lips against his.

You felt Jeys smile against your lips, relief flooding through him as he depeened the kiss, pouring his love into it. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the locks as you kissed him fervently, trying to convey all the feelings you couldn't put into words, his taste addicting and intoxicating, and you wanted more of it.

This time it was you who broke the kiss, your forehead resting against Jey's as he looked deep into your eyes. His fingers traced your cheek, sending shivers down your spine as his touch ignited a rush of love and lust within you. "I meant what I said. I ain't letting you go. Not now, not ever." His eyes were soft at the sight of you in his arms, punctuated each word with a gentle kiss against your lips, making you giggle softly in response.

"You are so possessive." You teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips as Jey chuckled softly. "It's hot."

Jey's eyes held an intensity at your words that made your heart skip a beat. "Why you actin' like you don't like it?" Jey smirked, his voice husky with desire, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke. His hand caressed your waist, pulling you closer to him, making your heart race with anticipation.

"Oh, I like it," you whispered back, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "In fact, I think I love it." You leaned in, capturing Jey's lips with yours in a slow, passionate kiss, your tongues tender against one another, slow and addicting before breaking apart.

"I love you." You gushed out affectionately, heart swelling for the man in front of you.

Jey grinned widely, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I love you more," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin as he held you close, savoring the moment. "And I ain't letting you slip away again."

You smiled back at him, letting him kiss you again and again and again, let him lead you to the bed and show you just how much he loved you, show you just how much he was holding back from you, showing you just how much he cared for you.

And when the dust settled, and your souls merged into one, you found yourself wrapped in Jey's arms yet again, your head resting on his chest as the rhythmic beat of his heart lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

As Jey gazed down at you for the second time in his arms, he knew you were it for him, the person for him.

And he promised himself that if he had to protect you from yourself to keep you, even if it hurt you, he would.

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𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻

"You're up in 10." A stage tech tapped you on the shoulder, pulling you out of the focus of your thoughts.

You nodded in acknowledgement, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Tonight was the night you'd finally get your best friend back, finally get the man you trusted with your life back by taking the very thing he loved the most: His title.

Your thoughts went back to Jey, as they always did as of late, and especially since last night. The two of you didnt really talk today, not because of any arguments but because you both knew what was coming tonight.

You bluntly told him that as much as you loved him, if he waved those puppy dog eyes around you while you were trying to get in the zone, it would only make things harder for you because you'd want to do nothing more but do everything to get back in his arms, which would mean give up on your plan with Roman. You wanted to win, to defeat Roman, and to make things right again.

You straightened yourself out before making your way to the entrance ramp, your heart racing with determination and nerves. You had to do this. You had to win. You had to save him.

That was the mantra running through your mind as you stepped out into the arena, your music blasting through the arena as you put your game face on, strutting down the ramp toward the steel structure looming in the distance with a cockiness that masked the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

You stood in the ring, staring up at the steel structure, the gravity of the moment sinking in as you waited for Roman's arrival. His music hit- and you turned to face the entrance, your gaze fixed on the titantron, awaiting the appearance of the man you once trusted with everything, the man who had become the very source of the pain within you.

Roman came out, the Universal Championship draped over hs shoulder, smirking and exuding the confidence and dominance you taught him as he stepped out and made his way down the ring. Your eyes met, and your gazes locked in an intense standoff, the tension that always seemed ever-present overwhelming you as you stared each other down, emotions running through both your eyes. Hate. Love. Determination.

You finally shifted your gaze away from him, your eyes flickered to the figures behind him- Paul of course by his side, doning a scared expression on his face at the sight of you- and Jey, wearing a guilty expression as he stood in the background, conflicted and anxious at the sight of you glaring at him. You told him to stay back, to stay out of this, that he would be a distr-

You noticed Roman's smirk widened at the sight, and you scoffed internally at his arrogance, realizing his plan. If he thought Jey being here would shake you up, he was sorely mistaken. You were gonna take Roman down, no matter what.

Roman finally made his way into the ring, standing across from you, pride and arrogance written all over his face, almost challenging you to make a move as he held the title high. You smirked back at him, challenging him right back.

The ref's introductions went by in a blur, and before you knew it, the bell rang, and the ref was sealing you both in the unforgiving cell.

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, until suddenly Roman slipped out of the ring, making you scoff as he made his way to the door, snatching the keys from the ref.

"I'ma lock this damn thing myself, cause I'm in control! I'm the one who decides when this ends," Roman boasted, his voice echoing through the arena as he locked the cage, slipping the key's to Jey, who took them with a questioning and guilty look on his face.

"Keep these safe for me, Jey." Roman winked at him before slipping back into the ring, his smirk slipping off as he ran right into a slap across his face from you.

The sound of your palm making contact with Roman's cheek echoed through the arena, and you smirked at the look of shock on Roman's face, as if he really expected you to lay down and let him pin you?

"What's wrong?" You mockingly pouted down at him, sarcasm dripping from your every word. "Get up!"

You pushed him down onto the floor, laughing at the angry expression on his face. "I told you to get up!" You grabbed him by the hair, dragging him up and pushing him into the corner, backing up wisely and enjoying the look of shock and anger contorting Roman's face.

Roman chuckled darkly, wiping the corner of his mouth and looking up at you with a twisted grin. "You wanna play?" He taunted, his voice laced with a hint of amusement despite the pain that flashed across his face as he stood up, stalking towards you like you were his prey.

You watched as he strided towards you, an equally twisted grin on your face. You beckoned him to come closer with a daring look in your eyes. The air crackled with tension, each step he took mirroring your own until you were standing face-to-face, mere inches apart.

"Let's play, Ro."

Let the games begin.

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Pain.

All you felt was pain as you gasped for breath, the kendo sticks raining down upon you with unforgiving force. The sharp sting of each strike left your body aching, and you laid on the mat, trying to shield yourself with your body, trying to crawl towards the ropes.

WACK. "You made me do this!"

WACK. "This is your fault! Why are you making me hurt you!?"

WACK. "You made all this happen, everything happening to you right now, you can blame YOURSELF FOR!"

Roman's cocky voice haunted you with every strike, his words digging into your skin deeper than the kendo stick. Tables and chairs were strewn all around the ring, blood coating the mat.

Roman was surprised, he wasn't expecting this much of a fight from you. You had given it as good as you got in this brutal match, countering his strength and towering height for as long as you could with your agility and in-ring intelligence, and his busted open face was the evidence of that.

But you couldn't put it off forever, and with every passing minute, your body screamed with pain, each breath as agonizing as the last. Your vision blurred, your muscles protested with each movement, and yet you refused to submit, refused to give up.

Roman stalked you as you took shelter in the corner, your knees buckling under the excruciating pain coursing through your body. He sauntered over to you, fully prepared to give you another strike, but the tears in your eyes seemed to give him pause.

For a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of something resembling regret crossing his features. He hesitated, the kendo stick poised mid-air at your face.

"Please..." You begged, sobbing against the pain, your voice barely audible between your sobs. "Stop this, Roman... please... I give up."

Roman's grip on the stick loosened, and he saw the desperation in your eyes, the genuine pain that resonated in your plea, and for a brief moment, a pang of guilt shot through him.

He hesitated, the kendo stick wavering in his hand as he looked down at you, your vulnerability piercing through his hardened exterior. "You give up?" He smiled, and Your voice barely made it past your trembling lips as you nodded weakly, the effort to speak taking every ounce of energy you had left. He studied your face for a moment longer, trying to see if you were telling the truth.

And then, unexpectedly, Roman dropped the kendo stick to the mat, stalking you with a mix of emotions on his face—anger, frustration, and a hint of pity.

He finally made his way towards you, and you peered up at him, struggling to meet his gaze through tear-filled eyes, your body trembling from the pain and exhaustion. Roman crouched down in front of you, his expression unreadable as he looked at your battered form.

You gave him a nod that spoke volumes, outstrethching your arms apologetically, signaling your surrender. "Please…" Roman studied you a moment longer hesitantly before he made his way closer to you.

When he hesitantly got close enough to you, you sat up and in one swift motion, pushed him harshly into the waiting table on the outside, sending him crashing down hard, the table splintering on impact.

You pulled yourself up weakly, sliding out of the ring and dragging yourself to Roman, staring at his broken form, staring at your broken best friend, knowing you had to break him again to save him.

You ignored Jey’s pleading eyes staring from outside the cell as you had been all match as you hauled Roman up from the table, using all your strength to pull him. “This is it, Roman," you hissed through gritted teeth, dragging him to the ring. "It ends now.”

You pinned his crumbled form, praying he would just give up now, praying he would listen to you for once.

ONE

TWO

THR-

You cried out in frustration when Roman pushed you off of him just before the final count.

Roman rolled away, panting heavily, his eyes locked on you with that same cocky defiance he had the entire match, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You scrambled to your feet, desperation clawing at your throat. This had to end. You couldn't let it continue any longer. Your body protested every move, every breath, but your eyes flickered towards to the kendo stick laying next to you, and you staggered towards it, gasping as pain shot through your body.

All the guilt, all the regret that flooded your body since the bell rang washed away when you gazed at Roman, at his soulless eyes, in his heart that you no longer recognized. You needed to get it back. You needed to save him.

SLAM! Roman let out a pained groan that the strike at his mid-section, trying to shield himself from you, peering up at you and seeing the same soulless eyes he had staring right back at him.

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! You slammed him with it, on his ribs, his legs, anywhere you could hit, over and over and over again, the pain in your heart matching the agony etched on Roman's face with each strike. Tears mixed with sweat, your breaths ragged as you continued to rain down blows upon him.

SLAM. “You made me do this!” you screamed between sobs, striking him in the stomach.

SLAM. “You should have listened to me!” You cried out, tears streaming down your face as he yelled out in agony as you smacked in in the jaw with it.

SLAM. “Why won’t you just stop and come back to me!” You sobbed, the kendo stick landing blow after blow, as if trying to beat some sense back into Roman, your voice breaking with every word.

Roman laid there, unable to stop you from releasing your emotions on him. Unable to stop you from releasing your pain on him, releasing everything onto him, making you feel everything he made you feel, until you let out a final guttural scream, throwing the kendo stick down and tugging your hair and collapsing in the corner, staring at the destruction you caused.

Everything that led up to this moment flashed every emotion, every choice, every regret, and every sacrifice you made. And as you looked at Roman, the confidence of his earlier gone and replaced with hurt, you knew you had to make the biggest sacrifice of your life.

You slowly walked towards him, his eyes trained on you, preparing for a blow. But you gripped his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, a well of emotions swirling through both your orbs. Tears stained both your faces, a poignant silence in the air .

“I'm sorry, Roman," you whispered hoarsely, your voice trembling with regret, and determination. You pressed your forehead against his, tears mingling, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.

That moment passed, and you hauled yourself up, sadness turning into a determined glare as you stared at him. “This ends now.” You pushed him down to the mat, using your weight on his back to evade his strength and grabbed his arm, wrenching it behind his back in an excruciating hold, the pain etched across Roman's face evident as he struggled against your grip, his cries echoing in the cell.

"Please give up Roman, please." You shouted, your voice cracking with emotion as you strained to maintain the hold, your entire body trembling from the effort and exhaustion.

“I need you back. I need you to come back to me!” You pulled even harder, begging him to just give up this one time.

“I am with you!” Roman finally screamed back, voice cracking with the same emotion as yours, shaking his head at the ref, refusing to tap out. He used his strength to push himself up with you on his arm, pushing himself out of the ring and hoping you would be dumped on the outside from his weight.

But you held on, holding on for dear life as the two of you dropped in front of the cell doors, dragging him back down and wrenching back as hard as you could. Your eyes locked with Roman's, pleading silently for him to end this, to give in and put an end to this.

Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity, Roman's arm finally tapped against the ground, and you let go, but the ref yelled from in the ring that the match couldn't end outside the cell.

Your eyes widened in shock, but your face turned into a snarl as you watched Roman crawl back in the ring. It was now or never. All you had to do was crawl and lock in the submission and you’d wi-

“Stop!” Jey’s pleading voice made you freeze in your tracks, realizing you were standing across from him, the cell doors separating you. You turned towards Jey, your chest heaving and your breath labored, your body screaming with exhaustion. Your gaze met his, and your heart dropped saw the anguish and fear in his eyes as he stood there, watching everything that happened unfold.

"Please, don't do this," Jey pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. He reached out towards you, his hand pressing against the steel structure that separated the two of you, as if trying to bridge the gap between your hearts.

“Don’t go through with this. Don’t do this to him. I can’t let you be like him!” His hand clutched at the steel bars, his eyes teary and his heart pleading for you to stop.

Your resolve wavered, torn between finishing what you started and the overwhelming pain in Jey’s face. The image of Roman, right where you wanted him, battered and vulnerable, flashed through your mind, intertwining with Jey's tear-stained face. And you knew what you had to do.

You turned to Jey, giving him a sad smile, your hand resting against the cold steel beside his. "I have to do this, Jey," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I'm sorry."

Jey shook his head in disbelief, his eyes begging you to reconsider. "No, you don't. You don't have to do this. Please, come back to me. We can figure this out together. I can't lose you like this," Jey pleaded, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes, conflicting emotions swirling within you. “I’m sorry.” you repeated, your voice quivering. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, and turned away slowly, your body begging you to just go into Jey’s arms-

SPEAR!

Jey looked on in horror as Roman flipped your body over with a sudden spear, capitalizing off of Jey’s distraction and knocking you down onto the steel ramp outside the ring.

Roman's fierce gaze pierced through Jey as he towered over your, the vindictive triumph in his eyes sending a chill down his spine.

“That’s why you’re my right hand man!” The guilty look on Jey’s face came back as Roman gave him a beaming smile, pointing at him with a smirk.

"You da man, Jey!" Roman laughed twistedly, relishing in the sight of you lying in pain, the once familiar and loving face of his best friend now reduced to a pained grimace. Jey's heart sank as he watched his worst fears come true, watch as Roman crawled into the ring, a wicked smirk on his face as he stood over your lying body, reveling in the pain on your face.

Roman slowly kneeled in front of you, taking your chin in his hands, the softness in which he held your face contrasting the dark tone in his eyes.

"Look at me." Roman's voice was menacing yet soft, a malicious edge cutting through the air as he glared down at you, his fingers tightening around your chin. "I said look at me!" You looked at him through teary eyes, your vision blurred from the pain and exhaustion. His grip on your chin was tight, forcing you to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare unnerving you and making your skin crawl.

"I didnt want to do this. I don't want to do this." Roman's voice was laced with scorn, his face contorted with anger. "You made me do this! You made me hurt you like this!" He snarled, shaking your head with force, the pain searing through you with each movement.

You tried to speak, to reason with him, but your voice faltered, barely a whisper escaping your lips. "Please, Roman, stop this… I had to"

He laughed bitterly at your plea, his laughter echoing through the cell, sending shivers down your spine. "Stop? Why would I stop? You have to do this, right? This is what you wanted, isn't it? To see me like this, to feel what I feel!" His voice was a venomous hiss, punctuated by the fury burning in his eyes.

You reached out, a desperate attempt to reason with him, but Roman seized your wrist, his grip like a vice, his face contorted with pure malice. "I told you I was gonna save you from yourself, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do." he growled, pulling you up harshly, making you cry out in pain as he dragged you to the center of the ring.

"And if you do what I'ma know your stubborn ass is gon' do, then I know I was right." He pushed you to the ground, putting his entire body weight on you, praying you'll pick the right choice as he pinned you.

You proved him right by barely kicking out at the last second, his body pressed hard against yours, the pain almost unbearable. Roman kissed his teeth and tutted apologetically.

"I was right, I'm always fucking right" he muttered, his expression a mix of disappointment and anger.

"You're really gonna make me do this, huh?" You struggled beneath him, trying to catch your breath, your body aching from the relentless assault. Roman leaned down, his face inches from yours, his hot breath brushing against your skin as he spoke. "You'll thank me later."

His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion and you knew you weren't gonna be able to manipulate his emotion anymore. You braced yourself, knowing what was about to come, and it was worse than anything you'd endured in the match so far.

You gasped for air as Roman pulled you into a guillotine chokehold, squeezing tightly around your neck, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and wheezed, struggling to breathe as panic set in, your hands desperately clawing at his arms, trying to break free from his vice-like grip, but it was no use.

You tried to hang on, scratching at his arms with your nails, trying to break free, but your strength was fading rapidly. The world around you faded into a blur, darkness encroaching at the edges of your vision. Your thoughts spiraled, flickering between moments of pain and memories of happier times, almost all of them including the man who was hurting you. You fought against the encroaching darkness, desperate to stay conscious, to resist the overwhelming urge to succumb to the blackness that threatened to engulf you.

"Just quit!" You could barely shake your head at Roman's screams fading away in your ear, only able to feel the air squeezing out of your body.  You didnt know how long it had been, but  you could feel Roman's anger increase the longer you refused to tap out by the tightness of his grip increasing. Just fucking quit!" 

It could've been hours, days , or mere moments—time lost its meaning as your vision was turning to black as you fought to hang on, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your body fought desperately for air, the lack of oxygen making every movement feel sluggish and labored. You were on the verge of blacking out, the edges of your consciousness dimming. "Just fucking quit, god damn it! Why won't you quit?!" 

Just when you thought you couldn't endure it any longer, your body weakening and the world spinning, the pressure around your neck suddenly released.

Gasping for air, you collapsed to the mat, coughing and sputtering, drawing in deep, desperate breaths, not even having enough energy to open your eyes, let alone move any part of your body.  The pounding in your head was deafening, your body felt as if it had been through a grueling war, every muscle aching and protesting with agony.

You lay there, your chest heaving, and it took you a few moments to realize someone was shaking you gently, calling your name over and over again. The voice was faint, barely audible over the ringing in your ears, but it was persistent.

"Come on, wake up. Please, wake up," the voice pleaded, the desperation and fear evident in every word. The shaking became more insistent, and you felt a hand on your shoulder, urging you to move.

Slowly, painfully, you managed to pry your heavy eyelids open, your vision blurry and unfocused. As the world came back into view, you saw Jey's worried face hovering above you, his eyes wide with concern and fear.

"Hey, hey, look at me." His voice was shaky, filled with emotion as he cradled your face in his hands. "I got you, baby. I got you." 

You struggled to speak, your throat raw and parched, but you managed to croak out a weak, "Jey?"

Tears welled up in his eyes as relief flooded his features. "Yeah, it's me. Thank God, you're awake." Jey softly caressed your face before  letting you go and turning away from yo , and that's when you noticed the keys in his hand, and Roman with an angry expression on his face, pushed far away from you. 

Jey must've not been able to take anymore of the match and used the keys to come in and push Roman away to save you. Your eyes widened in realization and you tried to push yourself up and speak, but your body protested vehemently against any movement.

You winced, feeling the pain coursing through every inch of your being, and all you could do was watch as Jey made his way to Roman, who was sitting on the mat, the angry look on his face fading into a unreadable glare as Jey kneeled beside him, tear stains marking his face, his eyes downcast as he took Roman's hand, hoping Roman still had some sanity left to listen to him.

"Please Roman..." . Roman seemed to resist at first, pulling away slightly, but then seemingly softened at the begging tone in Jey's voice. "She won't quit... take mercy on her. She loves you. She's doing this because she loves you. You know that! And if you love her, you'll stop this!" Jey squeezed his hand tightly, putting his forehead on his, praying in his entire being that Roman will finally listen to him. "And I love her... so please... stop this."

Roman closed his eyes, the arena lights casting shadows on his face, and for a moment, he looked like a man battling his inner demons. Not the tribal chief, not an invincible power hungry individual. Just a man. 

Roman finally opened his eyes, staring at Jey- not as usual  like he could see through him- but like he was seeing him for the first time. His eyes were no longer soulless, they were vulnerable, they were hurting; they were human.

Roman squeezed Jey's hand back, a gesture that spoke volumes more than any words could convey. He nodded against Jey's forehead, and it was like they had a silent conversations they spoke through with their eyes in a language only they could understand. 

Jey's eyes lit up, and he squeezed Roman's hand back again in acknowledgment before bringing Roman into a one armed hug, all the feelings that got them to this point washed away as Jey buried his face in Roman's neck, holding onto him as if he was afraid to let go. 

Roman cradled the back of Jey's head gently, time standing still as they embraced in the ring. Roman was the one who ended up pulling away, gently breaking the embrace. He looked at Jey with emotions he couldn't put into words, but Jey understood it, understood what he was trying to say.

"I love her too, Jey." Roman whispered softly, as if he was revealing a secret he had long kept hidden. He leaned in close, so close that their breaths mingled, his hand still on the back of Jey's head. Then the vulnerability vanished. The emotions washed away. And any remants of humanity were wiped away.

"And that is why I have to do this."

Roman's understanding expression was replaced with a dark smirk on his face that made Jey's smile drop, and his lungs seize as Roman pulled him into the guillotine hold, any hopes Jey had dying down as he gasped for air, his body being pulled down to the mat as he clawed Roman's arm, desperate for release. Roman'e eyes were now cold and determined, the arena lights flickering, reflecting the conflict within Roman's eyes, torn between the man he could be and the tribal chief he had become.

You gasped for breath as you watched the horror happening right in front of you, Jey's eyes pleading for mercy as he gasped for breath, the arm that wasn't clawing at Roman desperately being held out to you.  It felt like deja vu- your mind going back to the way Jimmy had cried out, pleaded for mercy, reaching out to Jey just like Jey was doing to you right now.

And just like Jey, you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't fight back, you couldn't manipulate your way out of it, all you could do was watch on helplessly, moving your tired body closer to Jey's and intertwining your fingers with his outstretched hand, the desperation in his eyes mirrored your own feelings of powerlessness.

'This must've been his plan all along' your brain screamed at you as you squeezed Jey's hand with all your might, your body screaming at you to do something as you watched Jey cry for mercy. Bringing Jey out here...giving him the key... making him watch everything unfold.

Roman knew Jey knew you wouldn't give up no matter what, and that would eat at him, and he used that against the both of you. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, but a little voice in your brain couldn't help but respect him for how far he would go as a sickening feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew what you had to do.

"I give up!" You yelled out, gripping Jey's hand tighter as you shouted, your voice echoing through the arena.

"I quit! I quit, Roman! You win! You fucking win!" Your free hand tapped rapidly against the mat, tears streaming down your face as you pleaded for Roman to release Jey and spare him.

Roman's gaze shifted from Jey to you. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched you tap out over and over again in submission, begging him to stop as the bell ringing to signal the end of the match. He didn't stop until his name rang from the speakers, and then finally, he released Jey from the hold, letting him collapse to the mat, gasping for air.

You finally found the energy to move and rushed to Jey's side, kneeling beside him as you gently cradled his head in your hands. Jey rolled over, breathing heavily, eyes filled with pain and sadness as he collapsed on top of you, his body shaking you held onto him, running your fingers through his hair soothingly, whispering comforting words even as your own tears fell.

Roman stood tall in the center of the ring, the Universal Championship slung over his shoulder, a smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the sight of you and Jey, him engulfing your body in his bigger frame protectively, comforting each other with a tenderness that seemed to contrast the brutality of the match.

Roman's eyes shifted from smugness to happiness as he slowly walked out of the ring, the arena lights casting a sinister glow on his face. He finally got his best friend back, got his person back right where you belong, by his side, and made sure Jey was right there with you. Roman was sure that even if you didn’t get over this-which you would-he knew that you might have tried to beat his ass, but you wouldn’t let anyone else touch him no matter your anger. Paul brandished him by his side as he casted you one last smile before making his way up the ramp.

Jey was feeling that same happiness, despite the pain and exhaustion, despite all the shit that happened. Despite all the odds, despite Roman destroying everything in his path, Jey fulfilled his promise whether you liked it or not. He didn't let you let Roman destroy your soul.

And that's all Jey ever wanted for you.

#wwe x reader #nxt x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe #wwe fic #wwe imagine #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x best friend reader #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x fem reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso x reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso imagines #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x fem reader #roman reigns x fem black reader #jey uso x fem black reader #wwe fanfic #jey uso smut #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #the bloodline x you #the bloodline x reader #the bloodline x black reader

[damiansgoodgirll]

wwe masterlist

rhea ripley (the only woman i feel comfortable writing about)

love and thunder

it’s just me and you

hi barbie, hi ken

protector

you said you loved me

love you better

safe place

damian priest

sleeping beauty

breathe with me

champions

mi vida, mi amor

can’t keep my hands to myself

aftercare

hold me please

money in the bank

shut up

different prospective

flowers

the other woman

gym time

is that my t-shirt?

primadonna

movie night

soft for you

you and me, under the rain

i could show you if you give me the chance

my birdie

what i always wanted

nothing to prove

i just wanna feel loved

papi

bday party

the usos (writing for them x reader only platonically!)

backstabber

by his side

jey uso

are you pregnant?

sunshine

no one can hurt you

shark week

proud of you

home is where you belong

jimmy uso

through hell with you

dolph ziggler

the judgment day (platonic)

where are my shoes?

we’re in this together

the baby of the group

cowboys

seth rollins

traitor

roman reigns

dean ambrose (forever dean ambrose for me)

beauty and the beast

edge

goodnight pretty girl

finn balor

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x you #damian priest #damian priest x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day #the usos #the usos x reader #jey uso #jimmy uso #jey uso imagine #jey uso x reader #jimmy uso x reader #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins

[punksdoll]

Hii!! Love your imagines!!

Was wondering if I could request a Kevin Owens x Sami Zayn x reader (platonic) fanfic? Where you are all best friends but ever since you joined the Bloodline in 2020 and started dating Roman you iced them out.

And like how Kevin was tryna convince sami to leave the bloodline, they try to convince you to leave the bloodline in every way possible, but you ignore them cause you think you can’t get the big break in your career without roman, and now that ur womans champ it is because of roman.

And ur notorious for jumping ship when you don’t get ur way, so everyones expecting you to betray roman when he accidentally costs you your womens championship. And Sami and Kevin keep finding you after roman keeps treating you horribly and tryna convince you that roman doesn’t care about you the way they do. And that the way he is treating you, an amazing person, is shitty. But you just give them sad looks that hurt them and brush them off. And Kevin just wants to kill Roman but knows he has to get you away from him first.

But you don’t even think of betraying Roman cause you genuinely think ur not good enough without Roman until you caught him cheating on you. And then you just silently snap and as soon as Roman goes out to cut a promo against Sami and Kevin your music hits and you make ur way to the ring with a kendo stick. And Kevin and Sami think your so far gone that ur gonna attack them with it but you attack a smug roman with it and shockingly attack him and beat him up and sami and kevin are shocked and pull you off of him before he could hurt you. And they are confused when the three of u are backstage and you just break down and cry and tell them everything and they hug you. And kevin wants to tell you i told u so but knows nows not the time. They both tell you that you did the right thing and that you deserve better. And you keep apologizing and they say they forgive you and kevin and sami are sad that ur hurting and happy you are finally back with them, that their best friend is back. and comfort you the rest of the night in the hotel.

Sorry if this is too long, you don’t have to do all this. Have a great day! :)

~~~𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑴𝒆~~~

gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated

𝑲𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏 𝑶𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑺𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏 ^owner of gif

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒕. 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈<𝟑

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏, 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆, 𝒘𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒆𝒗, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏’𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔🫶🏼, 𝒚/𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇.

not proofread

“All you have to say is yes and you’ll be running this division with my tribal chief. Right by his side. He can give you anything that those fools could never give you.” Paul negotiates with y/n.

“Let me…think about it.” Y/n sighs, “I have a lot going on right now dealing with him and those “fools” that are my best friends.” Y/n narrows her eyes.

Paul opens his mouth to say something only to immediately bow his head. Y/n raises an eyebrow and turns around, being met with Roman Reigns himself.

“Me and your fools fight got nothing to do with you, baby. You putting too much energy on something that they are dragging you down with them. Join me? And you won’t even have to worry about that. All you gotta worry about is nothing.” Roman smiles, “Let me do the work for you and you’ll be even bigger than them.”

Y/n knew it was wrong but the idea alone of being able to rise to the top was brainwashing her. Before she even has the chance to answer, two men appear in front of her; blocking her view of Roman.

“Don’t talk to her.” Sami shakes his head, “She has nothing to do with our problems.”

Roman chuckles, “that’s not what I be hearin’ but let me just mind my business.” Roman raises his hands in surrender before making eye contact with y/n who is tryna take a glance at him, “You got 5 days ma, think about it.” With that, Roman and Paul walk away from them.

Kevin immediately looks at Y/n who looks like a kid just got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do. “What is he talking about?”

Y/n looks at both of her best friends before sighing, “He offered me a really nice offer that would make me stupid if I don’t take it into consideration.” Y/n sighs.

“You’ll be stupid even if you do take it into consideration.” Kevin narrows his eyes.

“He’s bad news y/n/n. Do not fall for his tricks.”

“Ok ok…” Y/n nods, “I won’t.”

“You promise? We don’t want you anywhere near him. So promise.” Kevin demands.

“I promise.”

•••

Kevin and Sami stare down at the ramp where The Bloodline are coming down the ramp. It’s been 3 years since that conversation and 3 years since y/n picked their rival over them. When they found out about her decision, they were pissed. Absolutely pissed. They had tried talking to her over and over again to leave the bloodline but when she had told them why she couldn’t, they were even more pissed than before.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Kevin stared at you with betrayal and disappointment, “You took up the offer after everything.”

“You do realize he doesn’t like us right?” Sami asks with a frown, “Which means he’s just going to use you against us.”

“We’re dating.” Y/n blurts out and immediately closes her eyes, knowing she fucked up even more.

Kevin lets out a breathy laugh mixed with a scoff as he stares at her. Out of anger, he walks away. Sami looks at y/n with betrayal as she slowly opens her eyes to stare off at Kevin before looking back at Sami.

“You promised…”

Y/n avoids eye contact with the duo as she gets inside the ring with Roman and his cousins, all holding a finger up high. Y/n holding it down low. Roman notices and raises her hand up higher, taking a glance over Sami and Kevin with a smirk.

“She’s not a dog.” Kevin says out loud towards Roman.

Y/n looks over at Kevin and glares, “Shut up, Kev.” Y/n says harshly.

“Yeah, mind your business.” Roman smirks as he gets in his corner.

“Good luck…” Y/n tells him as she goes through the ropes but is stopped immediately as Roman pulls her face closer and gives her a kiss.

Kevin charges at him but is automatically stopped by Sami and the referee. “Kev! Kev!” Sami pleads as she tries pushing the man away from Roman.

Y/n pulls away, flustered, before getting down from the ring with the help of the twins.

The match starts and Solo is tagged in almost immediately. Roman laughs as he points at Kevin who’s already fuming as it is, “The hell he think this is?” Roman chuckles and gets out of the ring as Solo gets in.

The match is on a roll as Y/n watches anxiously. If she was gonna be honest, she was rooting for Kevin and Sami. She loves Roman, she does, but Kevin and Sami are her best friends and she didn’t want to see them lose.

“Yo y/n/n.” Jimmy walks over to you, “We goin distract the ref, pass this over to uce.” Jimmy hands over some brass knuckles to her.

“No…no i can’t do that.” Y/n immediately shakes her head, pushing his hand away from her.

“He wants you to do it. Don’t disappoint our tribal chief.” Paul snaps at her, pushing them into her hands.

Y/n nibbles her lip nervously before walking around the ring. Sami notices her and sees the brass knuckles in her hand, immediately jumping down the ring and rushing to her. “Don’t do that please.” Sami pleads with her.

“Move.” Y/n sighs trying to get around him only for him to follow her movement, “Sami…” she pleads.

Jimmy jumps on the ring and starts distracting the ref as Jey runs around towards Y/n who quickly moves to the side and sends a kick to Sami’s face.

“Go! Go! Go!” Jey rushes y/n who rushes over to where Roman is waiting.

Y/n walks over and makes eye contact with Kevin who is also yelling at Jimmy to get away.

“Y/n!” Roman shouts, “Give me the dam brass.” He holds his hand out.

Y/n looks at Roman then back at Kevin, “Why can’t you just win normally?” Y/n pleads.

“Give him the dam thing!” Paul shouts and Y/n, with pressure, fumbles around and hands them to Roman who snatches them and puts them on.

Roman turns around and sends a punch to Kevin with the brass knuckles, immediately knocking him down and taking the win. The twins slide in to celebrate with their cousin and brother. Y/n stays outside the ring and stares at Kevin who had rolled out of the ring and is now holding his face. Sami walks over to him and sighs, staring over at y/n.

“Sami…” Y/n goes to walk over but is immediately stopped by Roman who calls for her. Y/n completely forgets about what she was going to do and slides into the ring, walking over to Roman who wraps his arm around her and holds his titles up with a smirk.

Kevin and Sami both look over, “We gotta get her out of there…”

•••

“Y/n!” Y/n immediately picks up her pace as she tries rushing away from the men who are trying to get her attention. All she wanted to do was go to her hotel room and cry. Her body hurt and what she wanted was to have a simple comforting hug from her boyfriend…instead she had gotten told off.

“Here is your winner…Bianca Belair!” The announcer announces after Bianca had just pinned her down.

Y/n stares at the uso twins who look at her with wide eyes then back at Bianca who is celebrating her win.

“NO NO NO!” Y/n shouts as she stands up and attack Bianca from behind. “NO! NO! NO!”

Sami catches her arm and stops her from making anymore movement. Y/n turns around and looks at both of them, annoyance plastered on her face.

“What.” She snaps.

“We heard.” Kevin says and y/n feels her annoyance flair off and instead embarrassment covers her features before she conceals it immediately.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Y/n shakes her head.

She did.

“Yo y/n/n…” Jimmy walks over to where she’s at, packing her clothes. “Uce wants to see you…it ain’t good.”

“Yeah…he pissed.” Jey looks at her with a sympathetic expression.

Y/n nods slowly before walking away from them to go to her boyfriend’s locker room. She was trying to avoid him as much as possible after her match but knowing him, he was going to see her whether she wanted him to or not.

She gets to his locker room and knocks first, trying to waste time. Clearly Thor wasn’t on her side as she hears his voice.

“Open.” Roman says.

Y/n takes in a deep breath before walking in and closing the door behind her. She sees him sitting down on his couch, man spreading with his hand holding his face.

“The twins said you wanted to see me…” she says.

“You disappointed me today, y/n.” Roman says, “You lost your match after you promised you’d win it…”

“Just because I promised something, doesn’t mean it’s always going to be kept.” Y/n rolls her eyes. She was shading herself.

“You getting smart with me?” Roman raises an eyebrow, “She getting smart with me?” Roman looks over at Paul who shakes his head.

“Indeed she is.” Paul tsked.

Roman stands up and walks over to y/n who keeps eye contact with him. “You should remember who even booked you before you get all sappy with me, y/n. I can take away your shine just like this…” he holds his hand up and snaps his finger. “Respect your tribal chief and remember who got you here.”

“I can get here on my own…” y/n narrows her eyes.

Roman laughs, he actually laughs in her face. Y/n is baffled as she watches him look back at Paul while still laughing then looks back at her. “Oh really?” Roman raises an eyebrow.

Y/n feels her confidence falter as she nods slowly, feeling herself wanting to break eye contact.

“Then do it.” Roman snaps, “oh wait? you can’t. wanna know why? because you don’t got the power that i have. you don’t have the voice that i have. you are nothing without me. you are nobody without me.”

“Why don’t you just leave y/n/n?” Sami sighs, “he called you nobody and i bet you he’s making you feel worthless right now.”

Y/n looks at Sami offended, “Seems like you’re the one making me feel worthless. He’s the reason why I am even getting noticed. He’s just trying to remind me who got me here.”

“and you believe that?” Kevin says and when you don’t answer, he scoffs. “Of course you believe that. You believe everything that comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t care about you. He’s using you for his own benefit.” Kevin spats out.

Y/n stares at both of them before slapping Kevin in the face, “Don’t ever disrespect him like that. He can get me where I want to be. I know he will. I trust him.”

•••

“Here is your winner and the new wwe women’s world champion, y/n y/l/n!” the announcer announces as the crowd cheers for y/n.

The usos snatch the title from the ref and slides into the ring to hand it to y/n who raises it up with a big smile. Roman smirks and walks up the steel steps before getting in the ring. He holds his arms open and motions for Y/n to come over.

Y/n smiles and runs over to him, jumping into his arm as she gives his cheek multiple kisses. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank youuuu!” Y/n gives him a long kiss on the lips.

The moment ends as Sami’s entrance music hits and everyone cheers automatically as Roman snaps his head over towards the ramp where Kevin and Sami are walking down of. Y/n stares at her ex best friends then back at Roman whose hold tightens.

The Bloodline watches as the best friends make their way towards the ring and walks up both of the steel steps. They slowly get in and stare at y/n.

“Got a problem?” Roman asks them as he puts y/n down and gets closer to them.

“Nope, no problem.” Kevin shakes his head as he keeps his eyes targeted at y/n.

Roman takes notice and blocks their view making Kevin chuckle before looking at Sami who holds his hand up in surrender.

“We just wanted to say congrats.” Sami says as he takes a glance over at y/n, “We’re proud of you…” he smiles.

Y/n looks at them and nods slowly, looking away. “We would be even more prouder if you did it by yourself but…” Kevin shrugs and y/n snaps her head towards him with offense.

Roman looks over at his cousins and gives them a look which they automatically understand. The Usos attack Kevin and Sami who saw it coming and knocks them down.

Y/n rushes out the ring and holds her newfound championship close as she watches the men go in a brawl.

“Go.” Paul ushers her away, “Go go go.”

•••

Y/n wraps her championship around as she’s getting ready to defend it against Rhea Ripley, again.

“It looks good on you.” Y/n snaps her head over to see Sami watching her put it on.

“Screw you both.” Y/n says as she puts on her leather jacket.

“He’s sorry for what he said…” Sami says.

“Then why isn’t he apologizing himself?” Y/n raises an eyebrow.

Sami sighs, “We’re worried about you y/n. You could have still made it even without them you know?”

Y/n eyes him and shakes his head, “No…no i wouldn’t. He gave me chances that you and Kevin couldn’t even give me.” Y/n says.

Sami frowns, “We could have given you a chance to prove yourself…and make your work hard to earn stuff.”

“Whatever Sami, i’ll see you around.”

•••

Y/n eyes widened as brass knuckles are pushed into her hand as Roman gives her a look. “Use it and win it.”

Y/n looks over at Rhea then at Roman, “I-I can’t.” Y/n stutters, “Thats cheating.” Y/n shakes her head. She will do anything to win but cheating was not an option for her.

“God damit y/n.” Roman huffs before walking away and rushing over towards the ring and stands on it to distract the ref.

Y/n sees that she has no choice but to use the brass as she stands up and uses them on Rhea. She pins her down and waits for the ref to count.

But it never comes.

Y/n snaps her head up and sees Roman not noticing her pinning Rhea down. Y/n stands up and storms over there and catches the ref’s attention.

“I was pinning her damit!” She shouts at the ref who apologizes before turning towards Roman and forcing him down. Y/n looks down at Roman and gives him a look, “I did it! Why didn’t you stop talking.” Y/n snaps with a frown.

Y/n feels herself getting yanked around and get positioned into a riptide.

“1! 2! 3!” the bell rings as the crowd cheers.

“Here is your winner and the new women’s world champion, Rhea Ripley!”

•••

The Bloodline get’s backstage. Roman is fuming as Y/n follows behind him with her head down and quiet. Everyone parts away to make space for them, not wanting to get in between Roman’s wrath. They get to their locker room and it’s silent for a moment as everyone watches Roman take deep breaths to calm himself down.

“You had one job.” Roman says, “You had one single job. It was to retain what was supposed to be your championship belt. But you can never do anything right. When I tell you to do something? You fucking do it y/n.” Roman looks over at y/n who narrows her eyes as she fights to keep herself from crying.

“I did do it right though…I used the brass knuckles and I pinned her. You were the one that was still distracting the referee…” Y/n frowns.

Roman narrows his eyes, “Are you blaming me right now? You saying it’s my fault that you lost your own dam title?” Roman snaps, “It’s your own dam fault. You were the one that was pinned down by a stupid ass finisher and you were supposed to kick out of the finisher. It’s all your dam fault.” Roman gets closer to her, taking heavy deep breaths.

Y/n closes her eyes and keeps her head down, avoiding any eye contact. Her eyes snap open as she feels her arm get gripped up and herself getting dragged away and towards the door where he opens it and shoves her out, slamming the door in her face. Y/n jumps when the door shuts and she takes in a shaky breath.

“Everything ok?” Y/n hears Kevin’s voice behind her and all she wants to do is curl up and let him comfort her but she already fucked up too many times tonight and she rather not piss Roman off even more.

“Mhm…” Y/n turns towards them and starts walking away, hearing them follow her.

“Do you seriously not see what he’s doing to you y/n? He doesn’t even care about you. We told you countless times how he’s just using you. You seen how he just easily kicked you out of his locker room? Like you were trash? You don’t deserve that.” Kevin shakes his head.

“You’re an amazing person y/n/n who’s getting treated by a self centered piece of shit.” Sami scoffs already sick and tired of the whole ordeal.

Y/n looks at them and feels her eyes gloss over as she shakes her head and walks away completely. They seen your face. You were hurt. Extremely.

“I’m gonna kill him…I swear it.” Kevin seethes as he turns towards where The Bloodline locker room is and goes to charge himself over there but is stopped by Sami who shakes his head.

“We have to get her out first…”

•••

The universe was buzzing. Y/n has been getting multiple notifications from posts she’s been mentioned on or tagged on. They were all talking about her match and how Roman costed it. Rumors were going around saying how she was going to betray him next week but if y/n’s gonna be honest…she doesn’t think she can betray him.

He has done everything for her. He had made her more known, he had given her more opportunities than many, he has had her in matches that she wouldn’t have expected herself to be in if she wasn’t with him.

He has done everything for her and just thinking about a betrayal makes her feel ungrateful. She’s not. She is grateful, she really is.

•••

Until she wasn’t.

Ever since she lost her match and the argument between her and Roman, she had noticed how secretive he’s been. He stopped having an arm around her, he stopped giving her kisses, he stopped being the boyfriend that she used to know and love.

She found out why.

Y/n was laying down in hers and roman’s shared hotel bed as she goes through her phone and looks at all the posts that she’s been tagged in about her match. Roman had left his phone charging on the nightstand next to the hotel phone.

*buzz*

Y/n looks over to Roman’s phone when she hears it vibrates. She grabs it and looks at the new message that he has and frowns.

Yasmin: you’re still coming over right?

Y/n narrows her eyes before looking towards the bathroom, seeing him still in the shower. Y/n opens his phone up and opens up the message, her heart immediately shattering as she goes through the messages. It was all about of lovey text messages that she used to have with Roman before she had lost her match. He was cheating on her…

Y/n quickly closes his phone when she hears the water turn off and Roman getting out. She puts her phone to charge before getting comfortable as possible and closes her eyes

That was the day that she broke. He had been cheating on her since the moment they started dating.

Today she was avoiding Roman. Instead of staying in the bloodline locker room, she was staying in the women’s. Y/n was avoiding everyone actually. She even avoided Kevin and Sami, afraid that she would have a breakdown if she even thinks about talking to them.

Y/n is standing in front of the screen as she watches Sami and Kevin do their promo. They were calling Roman out, not to her surprise.

“There you are…” Y/n hears Roman’s voice and her mood immediately sours as she feels him come up behind her. “I’m gonna go cut their promo, you coming or what?” Roman looks down at Y/n who just shakes her head. Roman narrows his eyes before shrugging and making his way towards the curtains and walking out.

Y/n watches as he makes his way down the ramp with his cousins and Paul. Y/n looks away and feels herself as lonely as ever as she watches her fellow coworkers talk to their work best friend and she starts reminiscing about how she, Sami, and Kev were like before she betrayed them to be with Roman.

Y/n feels her eyes darken as she sets her eyes on a stack of kendo sticks. She makes her way over to them and grabs one out of the stack and makes her way towards the curtain.

•••

The men snap their heads towards the ramp when y/n entrance music hits the arena. The crowd cheers for her as they watch her walk down with a kendo stick in her hand. Sami and Kevin immediately look at Roman who has a smug look on his face as he watches her slide inside the ring and get closer to Sami and Kevin. Y/n stares at both of them, feeling the adrenaline pump through her veins. Kevin shakes his head as he prepares to get hit with the kendo stick.

Y/n raises the kendo stick and the crowd is shocked as you turn around and attack Roman with it. Everyone starts cheering for her as they watch y/n take Roman down with the kendo stick.

The men watch with wide eyes as they watch her lose her shit. The Usos immediately get into action to stop you but Sami and Kevin both attack them first and take them down. Once they get the brothers out of the ring they grab you away before you could lose the upper hand.

•••

Y/n stares at Kevin and Sami who stare at her with shock written all across their faces.

Y/n feels her eyes burn as she swallows thickly. “You were right…” Y/n croaks out. Before they knew it, she was in full blown tears as she starts rambling on about the things he’s done and said to you behind closed doors. “Then I found he HES CHEATING ON ME.” Y/n lets out a choked sob as she covers her face and cries into her hand.

Sami rushes over and pulls her into his arm, letting her cry it out. Y/n wraps her arms around him and cries harder.

Kevin stares and forces himself to bite his tongue as he watches your body rack up with sobs. He’ll say it another time.

“You did the right thing…” Kevin nods, deciding that’s the better way of going about this. “You did right on beating him up and embarrassing him in front of thousands of people. You showed him who really has the power in this division.” Kevin says.

Y/n glances over at him and pulls away from Sami, “Really?” She croaks out.

“Absolutely. You deserve 100% better than him. Whatever he put you through was not ok and you deserve someone else who can give you everything that he couldn’t.” Sami smiles as he wipes away her tears.

“I’m so sorry for what I did to you guys. I’m so sorry for costing your matches, I’m sorry for brushing you off, ignoring you, pretending you guys never existed to me. You guys don’t deserve that…” Y/n sniffs as she feels herself getting pulled into Kevin’s arms.

“We forgive you, we knew you’d come around. We’re just glad to have you back with us.” Kevin gives her head a kiss.

“Why don’t we go on a late night drive like old times? Hmm?” Sami suggests.

Y/n smiles and nods, “Like old times.”

#wwe imagine #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x reader #wwe one shot #wwe superstars #roman reigns x reader #wwe roman reigns #roman reigns #the bloodline #sami zayn x reader #sami zayn imagine #wwe sami zayn #kevin owens #kevin owens x reader #wwe kevin owens #kevin owens imagines

[cumxxslutt]

MASTER LIST - REQUEST

Request Rules

-The request should tell you if it’s open or closed

-I mainly write for : Roman reigns , jey uso , jimmy uso , solo sikoa , but I also do extras

-what I do write , SFW , Platonic , Relationships , Cheating , au’s , polyamory , blackreader , any other race reader , chubby reader ,

-What I will not write , x white reader , rape , incest , gore , x sibling reader , NSFW , body fluids ,  bestiality , sa .

-I only write for wwe

-I will start writing , NSFW , x sibling reader

-I’m sorry for not writing x white reader but I can’t write for something I know nothing about and that is not my race so I am not  comfortable

-Warnings: the term “nigga” will probably be used in some of my fics , there will most likely be a a lot of cussing , and maybe some playful jokes

-I am Black duhh . 🥴🎀

-And the request is now Closed/Open

___________________________________

Masterlist

Roman reigns

Edit . 🎀

Really . 🎀

Please . 🎀

Period pains . 🎀

Drunk Reader HC . 🎀

My Heart . 🎀

No More . 🎀

——————-

Jey uso

Edit . 🎀

Period pains . 🎀

Oh shit! . 🎀

Jey Uso Hc [Age Regression ] .

I can’t skate . 🎀

———

Jimmy uso

Edit . 🎀

High and light / HCS . 🎀

Period pains . 🎀

I can’t skate . 🎀

————

Bloodline

Oh shit! . 🎀

Edit . 🎀

Period pains . 🎀

What’s wrong mama . 🎀

Fuck . 🎀

The Bloodline HCS . 🎀

Ew . 🎀

Hi . 🎀

Ow . 🎀

—————

Solo sikoa

Coming soon . 🎀

————-

Extras

Coming soon . 🎀

———-

*NOT MY GIF ABOVE*

#jey uso #jimmy uso #wwe fanfiction #roman reign x y/n #wwe raw #wwe fics #wwe smut #roman reigns #solo sikoa x reader #the bloodline 🎀 #cumxxslutt.speaks🎀 #cumxxslutt.writes🎀 #🎀 .

[inagetawaycarxo]

hey love! I adore your writing so much. I was hoping to request a Roman Reigns x platonic! reader where the reader used to be in the shield but left when dean did because of an injury and when she comes back she learns about the bloodline

Aw ty amore, that means alot, 💜

💜You're On Your Own, Kid 💜

#anon #asks #answered #answered ask #answered asks #wwe related #request posted

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

In the Heart Of the Wolf (WWE College au)

AN- This is my first attempt at a College AU. I hope you like it.

Chapter 1

Ashers POV

'Make a U turn as soon as possible.'

I groan as I look for somewhere to turn around. Forty god forsaken hours in all in the car, and I really needed to get out and stretch my legs. I probably should have sooner, but I wanted to get here as soon as I could.

'Turn left in 400 feet.'

As I turn I finally see the sign for the college. I saw signs directing cars in where to go, and thankfully there's not a lot of people here as only Freshman have to be here today. As I drove I looked around and saw it was a pretty nice campus, not that I knew what any of the buildings were for. I saw a parking lot where lots of other people were, so I took that was where I was supposed to be. I circled the parking lot about 3 times before finding a place to park. Once I did I climbed out of my car, practically falling over as my legs got used to standing.

"Ok, now what?" I whispered to myself looking around. I decided on following the crowd, and wiped some sweat off my forehead. I wasn't really used to being out in the sun a lot, and was dressed in black leggings with jean short shorts, and a black Umbrella Academy sweatshirt. Definitely not Florida summer weather. As I walked I found different tables with letters on idly for last name. "Ok, where is J?" I said to myself looking down the line. Thankfully there was only a few people at that table, so I walked right up.

Two girls were at the table, if I had to guess, they were at least sisters. Both had brown hair and the same face shape, but one had their hair straightened with a tad bit more makeup then the one with curled hair. "Hi! Name please?" The one with straight hair asked. "Oh, um Asher Jackson" I said quickly.

"Nice to meet you Asher. I'm Brie Bella, welcome to Palm Beach University!" The one with curled hair said, or I guess brie. "Found it! Oh, your in our housing unit!" The one with straight hair said. "Oh, I'm Nikki, by the way. Nikki Bella." So they were sisters. "Nice to meet you both." I said shaking there hands. Brie bent over looking for something as Nikki continued to talk. "So at PBU, instead of dorms, everyone gets a housing unit. So there's a group of guys and girls that all live in a big house, you'll get a room and then everyone shares like the kitchen, living area, and so forth." She explained as Brie sat up, holding a bag.

"This is a small gift for all the freshmen. It has a map of the campus, a schedule, your house key, and a few other things." She said hanging me the bag with a smile. "Nikki, text Drew or someone to get over here so they can help her find the house and get her things in." Brie said but Nikki just rolled her eyes. "Already did!" Just then a guy walked up. He was super tall, and had on a leather jacket.

"Hey lassies, what do y'all need?" He asked, his Scottish accent vary obvious. "This is Asher, she's in our house, so I figured you could help her find it and such." Brie said looking down to write something down. "Oh! I almost forgot, Asher, the house is 402. Drew will show you it." She said smiling up at me. I nodded and turned to the larger man. "Lead the way." He said motioning forward.

I walked quickly to my car, Drew following right behind me. Once at the car I turned to look at him. "You don't have to show me, I'm sure I'll find it eventually." I say quickly. "Don't worry about is dear, don't really have anything better to do. Sophomores don't have to be here until tomorrow." He said shrugging. "Do you want to drive and have me tell you where to go, or should I drive?" He asked.

"How about I let you drive and kidnap me." I said smiling a bit. He looked shocked for a moment before chuckling. "Your going to be fun, get in the car, I'll tell you where to go." After driving for about 5 minutes, he pointed at a large Blue house. "That's the one." I parked and popped the trunk so I could start to unload. I took two suitcases and drew grabbed two boxes. "There's probably someone in there that can grab the last of your things." He said walking up to the door, giving me no real choice but to follow him.

The door was propped open and we walked in. It lead right into a large living room with a L shaped couch. On my left I could see the dining room and past that was a kitchen. The whole thing was vary open, so if you're ere in the living room you could talk to someone in the kitchen. On the couch there were a few boys sitting playing video games. Two had long flowing black hair and one had short reddish brown hair. "Reigns, Rollins, Ambrose! Get off your asses and help this lovely girl get moved in!" Drew yelled at the boys. After pausing there game, the got up walked over to great us.

"You must be the one taking Natalias room." One of the boys with brown hair said. Now up close I could see one had brown hair and the other had more black. "Natalia moved?" Drew asked sounding surprised. "Ya, apparently all of us are 'Just to much!'" The one with reddish brown hair said making his voice squeaky to mock whoever Natalia is. He then turned to look at me. "You don't mind to much right?" He asked eyebrow raised.

"Most people use that word to describe me." I say smiling, making all four of them laugh. "She's a keeper." The one with Black hair said. He had a significantly lower voice then the rest of them.

"Well, I guess I can show her to her room, will you three go and grab the last of her things?" Drew asked. "Oh! They don't have to. I can make a few trips, it's no problem." I say trying to cut in, but the guy with Brown hair shakes his head. "Na. A beautiful girl like you shouldn't have to get her own things. We've got it, it's kinda the reason we're here a day early." He said before all three walked outside.

"Come on, your room is up on the third floor." Drew said already walking up the stairs. "Men are on the second floor, women on third. There's a communal bathroom on each floor, and the bottom floor has kitchen, living room, and a few extra rooms for rec activities and such. Out back is a pretty big yard, not much is set up, but tomorrow the rest of the people that live here should be here." He explains as we walk up the steps. I have no idea how he's walking up the steps, carrying two large boxes, and talking so much.

Once on the third floor he walks me down the hall. "That door is the bathroom, you share it with 9 other girls. And this is your room!" He said stopping at the last door in the hall. He balanced the boxes in one hand and opened the door. The room was pretty nice, an empty bed, a desk and chair, bookshelf, and dresser on each side of the room. There was a large window with a nice view of the campus. "Ok, the other three should be up here with your things. Um, they don't really care what you do with the room, make it yours. But don't like, paint the walls, or destroy the place. Your roommate will probably be here tomorrow. Any questions?"

I was a bit frazzled by all the information, but I did have one question. "So counting me, there's 10 girls in the house, and I'm guessing there's 10 boys, so..... 20 people live here?" I questioned. I was exactly shy, but I didn't LOVE people ether. And by how they all talk to each other they all clearly know each other. "Ya, but don't worry about it. You would be shocked by how empty the place can be. Plus, everyone gets along, and if anyone gives you shit, you've got a big scary dude to set them straight." He joked pointing at himself.

"I think you mean 4, but I can understand your mistake." I turn to see the three boys walking in. Some how they got all my shit in the house in one go. "Ya, I'm sure they'll be afraid of you Rollins." Drew said rolling his eyes. "Now, we should leave this fine girl be, she has things to do." He said walking out. I stoped the other three before they could. "I didn't catch your names." I pointed out.

"Seth Rollins." The one with brown hair said shaking my hand. "I'm Roman Reigns." The one with a deep voice said. "And that's Dean Ambrose." Roman said motioning over to the one with reddish brown hair who nodded to me. "Well, I'm Asher Jackson. Nice to meet all three of you." I say. They don't stick around to long and I turn to look at all the boxes I needed to unpack.

"This is the shity part." I mumble opening the first one. The first few boxes had clothes in it, and because I fold all my clothes except really nice things, it goes relatively quickly. Then I start to get to my personal items. I have a few pictures I put up of my family, and I put all my school supplies on the desk. I put everything I want on walls in a pile, I'll have to go to the story latter to get things to hang it up with, and I put my sheets on the bed. I set my Guitar in the corner of the room out of the way, not sure how much I'll use it. "Now, is there a target near by?" I ask myself turning my phone on and opening google maps. Luckily there was one about 5 minutes from campus.

I walk downstairs keys in hand planing on just a quick run to the store. "Hey Asher!" I turn to see Rollins in the kitchen a cup in his hand. "Where you off to?" He questioned taking a drink of the liquid I am choosing to believe is water. "Target. Need to get a few things." I say brushing some of my hair out of my face. "Mind if I come? This house has no food in it yet, and there's no way in hell Im listening to Ambrose complain about no food all night." I chuckle at him but nodded. He smiled and started to follow me out when a voice stopped us.

"Where you two sneaking off to?" Dean called from the couch. "Target ." Seth called back. Dean practically jumped over the couch at that. "Dude, I wanna come! You in Reigns?" Roman looked up from his phone with his eyebrow raised.

"Your joking right? I refuse to go to Target with you two ever again." He said shanking his head. I looked at the two of them a bit nervous. "Hold up. Red flag, why won't he go to Target with you guys?"

"Don't listen to him Asher, man doesn't know what he's talking about." Dean said pulling me by my shoulder towards the door. "He's just mad that me and Rollins know how to make a shopping trip fun." He said as walked to my car. I heard Roman yell a 'good luck' from in the house.

"You better not do anything stupid...." I mumbled getting in the car.

————————————————

"Ok, go get what you guys need.Ill get what I need." I said as we walked into the building. I turned to look at the two of them, but they already had a cart and were rushing towards the food section.

I chuckled as I picked up a basket and went to look for what I needed. I ended up grabbing some thumb tacks and command strips. I was now standing in the hair dye section. I had dark brown hair, just like my brothers, and had wanted to dye it for a while now. What better time then the first week of college.

"Hey! You need any help?" I turned to see a girl with bleach blonde hair and pink highlights.

"I think I'm good. Just..... thinking about trying something new." I said shrugging. Her face lit up at that as she jumped up and down.

"Can I help you? I've been dyeing my hair since I was like 10!" She explained happily.

"Um... I guess?" I said a bit uneasy.

"Oh! My names Alexa! What's yours?" She said sticking out her hand. I shook it lightly before pulling my hand back.

"Asher..."

"Nice to meet you Asher. What color were you thinking?" She asked motioning to the different boxes of hair dye.

"Not sure. Maybe a green or something." I said shrugging.

"Ok. Personally I think this one would go best with your skin tone and such, but we have a few other kinds you could try." She explained handing me a few different boxes. I ended up choosing the one she suggested.

"Thanks for the help." I said trowing it into my basket.

"No problem." She said giving me a smile before walking away. I wandered the store a bit looking for Seth and Dean, picking up a few random snacks as I did.

"Asher!" I turned to see Seth running and pushing the cart, with dean sitting in the cart, boxes of frozen pizza, ice cream, and beer were piled on top of him.

"Oh my god....." I whispered walking up to them. "W- I, Why?" I asked speechless motioning to the cart.

"Because why not." Dean said a big smile on his face. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Oh ya. I'm ready to go if you are." I said as we began to walk towards the front to check out.

"Hair dye?" Seth asked noting what was in my basket.

"Ya. I figured new school new me." I said shrugging.

"Great, you two." I looked up surprised to see the cashier glaring daggers into Seth and Dean. She wasn't quite short, but not tall ether. Her blond hair, from what I could tell, went to her mid back area, and the tips were dyed pink a bit like Alexas.

"Nice to see you too Natie." Seth mumbled putting his things up on the counter to be scanned.

"Your Natalia?" I asked remembering the name from earlier. She turned to me as though just realizing I was there.

"Um... ya. Who are you?"

"Asher Jackson. I'm moving into your old room." I explained.

"Oh, good luck. The people there are horrible! None of them know how to take anything seriously."

"We take things seriously, just not you." Dean mumbled making Natalia glare at him once again.

"Says the guy in a shopping cart. Let me just ring you up so you can get out of here sooner." She snapped. She quickly rang the boys up, then myself before practically shoving us out the store.

Once we were in the car I looked over at Seth who was next to me. "She's, quite the personality."

"You can say that." Seth chuckled as he buckled up and I started the car.

"What caused you guys to clearly hate each other?" I asked curiously. My parents always said that was my down fall. 'Curiosity killed the cat' they always said.

"You'll never meet a girl with a stick shoved so far up her ass or a silver spoon shoved so far down her throat." Dean said from the back, making Seth chuckle.

"You really shouldn't say that Dean." He mumbled making dean sit up a bit in his seat.

"Why? We both know daddy put the spoon down her through. I'm honestly surprised that she is actually working a job."

"I'm sorry, what am I missing?" I asked as I drove.

"Her dad is a pretty big alumni, she gets away with a lot in's school, expects everything to go her way," Seth explained.

"The only person who might get away with more is Orton." Dean said, as though that name meant something, and apparently it did because Seth sighed.

"Randy's not nearly as bad as you thin-"

"He left you like a you were a pile of shit Seth, quote defending him." Dean snapped, making me shift in my seat.

"Whatever." Seth mumbled turning his body towards the window so he wouldn't have to look at us. This was going to be an interesting year.

#wwe fanfiction #Baron Corbin x reader #Cory Graves x reader #Seth Rollins x reader Platonic #Roman Reigns x Reader platonic #Dean Ambrose x reader platonic #College AU #fanfiction

[ao3feed-lokiangst]

Fandom One-Shots and Imagines

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3iAsehi

by leztrangem

Hello, everyone! This is my first work ever to be posted on here. This is a collection of one-shots from many different fandoms reposted from my Wattpad. All of these are pretty much SFW. That's because Wattpad is so strict about what type of content can be posted. This is honestly just a way for me to get used to posting on here because I'm fairly new. Fair warning, a lot of these were written when I was in like...middle school.

More tags and characters will be added to tags soon!

Words: 1012, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice (1988), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, Homestuck, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, Blood Drive (TV), Riverdale (TV 2017), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types, A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies), The SpongeBob Musical - Various/Anthony & Coulton/Jarrow, Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF, World Wrestling Entertainment, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, Supernatural, Gotham (TV), DCU (Comics), DC Extended Universe, Joker (2019), DCU, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Shameless (US), Rocky Horror Picture Show, X-Men (Movieverse)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi

Characters: Joker (Joker 2019), Joker (DCU), Arthur Fleck, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Pennywise (IT), Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Lip Gallagher, Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Lin-Manuel Miranda, James "Bucky" Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Peter Quill, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Yondu Udonta, T'Challa (Marvel), Reader, Mark Cohen, Roman Sionis, Harleen Quinzel, Armitage Hux

Relationships: Pennywise (IT)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/Reader, Arthur Fleck/You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Oswald Cobblepot/Reader, Edward Nygma/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader, Thor (Marvel)/Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Freddy Krueger/Reader, Jason Voorhees/You, Freddy Krueger/Jason Voorhees/Reader, Lin-Manuel Miranda/Reader, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Reader, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black/Reader, Roman Reigns/Reader, Seth Rollins | Tyler Black/Reader, Lip Gallagher/Reader, Harry Potter/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Reader, Lucius Malfoy/Reader, Severus Snape/Reader, Neville Longbottom/Reader, Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader, Billy Loomis/Reader, Billy Loomis/Stu Macher, Peter Quill/Reader, Yondu Udonta/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Depression, Bullying, Demons, Demonic Possession, Crying, Kissing, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Dates, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Hide and Seek, Games, Chess, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Arrogance, Mates, Vampire Bites, Polyamory, Polyamorous Character, Bisexuality, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Character, Heterosexuality, Witchcraft, Movie Night, Balloons, Harleen Quinzel's Hyenas, Roommates, Harleen Quinzel Needs a Hug, Riots, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lightsabers, Fights, Horror, Comedy, Lesbian Character, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Mutants, Mutant Reader, Mutant Powers, Drinking, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Why Did I Write This?, Spoilers, Spooky, Romance, Awkwardness

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3iAsehi

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

[ao3feed-snape]

Fandom One-Shots and Imagines

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3iAsehi

by leztrangem

Hello, everyone! This is my first work ever to be posted on here. This is a collection of one-shots from many different fandoms reposted from my Wattpad. Most of these are pretty much SFW but I'm marking it as mature just in case due to certain themes and the possibility of things getting more explicit in the future. That's because Wattpad is so strict about what type of content can be posted. This is honestly just a way for me to get used to posting on here because I'm fairly new. Fair warning, a lot of these were written when I was in like...middle school.

More tags and characters will be added to tags soon!

Words: 1012, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice (1988), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, Homestuck, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, Blood Drive (TV), Riverdale (TV 2017), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types, A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies), The SpongeBob Musical - Various/Anthony & Coulton/Jarrow, Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF, World Wrestling Entertainment, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, Supernatural, Gotham (TV), DCU (Comics), DC Extended Universe, Joker (2019), DCU, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Shameless (US), Rocky Horror Picture Show, X-Men (Movieverse)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi

Characters: Joker (Joker 2019), Joker (DCU), Arthur Fleck, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Pennywise (IT), Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Lip Gallagher, Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Lin-Manuel Miranda, James "Bucky" Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Peter Quill, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Yondu Udonta, T'Challa (Marvel), Reader, Mark Cohen, Roman Sionis, Harleen Quinzel, Armitage Hux

Relationships: Pennywise (IT)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/Reader, Arthur Fleck/You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Oswald Cobblepot/Reader, Edward Nygma/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader, Thor (Marvel)/Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Freddy Krueger/Reader, Jason Voorhees/You, Freddy Krueger/Jason Voorhees/Reader, Lin-Manuel Miranda/Reader, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Reader, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black/Reader, Roman Reigns/Reader, Seth Rollins | Tyler Black/Reader, Lip Gallagher/Reader, Harry Potter/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Reader, Lucius Malfoy/Reader, Severus Snape/Reader, Neville Longbottom/Reader, Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader, Billy Loomis/Reader, Billy Loomis/Stu Macher, Peter Quill/Reader, Yondu Udonta/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Depression, Bullying, Demons, Demonic Possession, Crying, Kissing, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Dates, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Hide and Seek, Games, Chess, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Arrogance, Mates, Vampire Bites, Polyamory, Polyamorous Character, Bisexuality, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Character, Heterosexuality, Witchcraft, Movie Night, Balloons, Harleen Quinzel's Hyenas, Roommates, Harleen Quinzel Needs a Hug, Riots, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lightsabers, Fights, Horror, Comedy, Lesbian Character, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Mutants, Mutant Reader, Mutant Powers, Drinking, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Why Did I Write This?, Spoilers, Spooky, Romance, Awkwardness

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3iAsehi

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Severus Snape #Snape #Professor Snape #SS

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood (3)- a funeral, and the second coming back

pairing: biker!roman reigns x black reader (mentions), biker!cody rhodes x black reader (mentions) warning: descriptions of alcohol. some talks about death and funerals (not negatively). cursing. roman being a dick smh. authors note: intro-ing more characters. some funny parts and not so funny parts. this chapter, as you will see, has a few different perspectives. i thought it would be nice to learn some of the fic lore from other pov’s. this chapter takes place in the present time!!!! word count: 6k tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @spritelucozade @gg-trini (if anyone else wants a tag for this story let me know!)

dean was not an inheritor of his leather. he had no familial ties to such greatly established pensacola street bloodlines. but he was scrappy and clever and loyal. he loved fixing things. making a hard work of his hands till the satisfaction of a job well done had no choice but to bleed from between the slight cracks of skin. and he didn't need second or third generation leather, or a bike gifted to him on his eighteenth birthday, and then again on his twenty first—because bikers could be showy motherfuckers—he just wanted something to call his own. a beautiful sum of meek ambition. a tangible manifestation of earned freedom. and kendrick greggs—God rest his soul—had given it to him. all those years ago, when the roar of engines were still new and ear splitting, KG—as everyone called him—let dean's desires run wild. and then when those too humble desires became ill-suited, KG threw a prospect kutte at dean, with a stare that dared him to succeed. and here dean found family. absolute community. no blood relations needed. 

dean remembers the grit of his early bloodline days well, but it is the existence of such a fond remembrance from which his annoyance is born. he hates the easy slip into reminiscence. that ache so naturally tethered to the joy of it all. it was always just too much of everything. but funerals make him nostalgic. with each one, comes that reminder. he's getting older. 

and maybe that's why anger doesn't move in him. doesn't stifle the surprise rife in his blood or the stinging in his eyes. emotion threatening to well over, and then its—fuck—it's brimming and washing hot in his cheeks. its just that thing. and of course when the whole abrupt ordeal of you leaving came about, he, in a bout of rather rare sensitivity, worked his sadness to a favorable subtlety. because you weren't his but you were still like family. you were KG's blood so, yeah, there was no halfway to think about it. you were family. and it's just that thing, that comes with much time and much distance, and then finally and so suddenly theres that breaking of the space between, where such time and distance is forgotten, and all there is left, are the things waiting to be picked up again. a taking in and a holding, as if such things had never been let go in the first place. 

just outside a small pensacola church, dean pulls lazily from his cigarette. seth—and he knows its seth by the leisure thudding step of his heel toe—approaching with a cigarette of his own. the both of them watching interestedly, as you brush harsh against cody to pass him. with the air of someone amidst a lovers quarrel. the remnants of a disagreement sticking to the rushed way you make your way up to the church. 

seth snickers. "you think they're fuckin'?

"if they're not already, then he probably wants to", dean assess. mirth slipping over his lips as he takes another much needed drag. and honestly, cody wasn't to blame for such a desire if dean's thinking was as spot on as he knew it to be. it was a small, not fully established joke of sorts after all, that at one point or another, most third generation bloodline members thought about KG's daughter in not so platonic ways. the one forbidden fruit amongst a plethora of other things to freely choose from in the garden. but it only happened maybe once or twice, before the realization set in that you just weren't to be seen that way. or at most, if such thoughts occurred, it was better to let them stay exactly as they were. as thoughts with no tangible form to see to its flourishing. 

"cody is dusty's son. he'll go the gentleman route and slow burn it", seth's cigarette falling to its end as its met with the tip of his shoe. 

dean does the same. making a dramatic show of peering over his shades before his leather clad arms open up to encourage an embrace. "this ain't a mirage is it?" 

you laugh. and as your face caves softly into dean's chest he can feel the lightness of it pulsing into him. a laugh filling itself with relief as you slip your arms to tighten the embrace. "no dean". 

you slip away to embrace seth. the three of you bright with smiles despite the adornment of mournful colors and eye-guarding shades. and dean can feel the fast to creep up nostalgia. the clever way it goes about softly sweetening his blood. 

"good", dean starts. unfailing in the not so subtle way he takes you in. everything about you different but the same. new but old. "thought i was hallucinating. between the leather and the weather, i'm due for a heat stroke soon".

"fuck tradition". a short thoughtless quip. your fingers tugging his leather. "take off the jacket".

seth bristles. the offense a detailed etch along his face. "fuck tradition?! you went up north and got fucking screws loose. one of the originals is dead in a box, we gotta represent". 

and seth was right. tradition was tradition, and dean wasn't going to forsake his leather because he felt a little uncomfortable. come to think of it, it wasn't so hot—it absolutely was hot— that he needed to have loose lips with complaining about. 

your eyes roll. smiling still. "m'not nursing you when you collapse". 

"anyways", a drip of mischief steeping in. deans arm hugging your shoulder into his side. "in the spirit of reunion, do i have permission to indulge in some thoughts and opinions?" 

"i too would like to indulge". seth adds. grinning. 

your head shakes in what dean knows to be a small gathering together of patience. "are said thoughts and opinions messy and reductive". 

"...yes...maybe...", dean looking to seth for a quick temperature check of just how unruly their curiosities could be. "...i don't know". 

you sigh. "go ahead". dean feeling the ever so slight tense up in your shoulders. because loads of time had past, since the last time any of the guys had seen you. and everyone would have their own little questions and curiosities. it was impossible to hide everything forever anyways. they were all as nosy as they were rowdy and dean only knew this because he was one of them, one of the guys. 

seth breaks the tension. "you and cody?"

and you move quick. slipping from under deans arm. "absolutely not", trying to make it up the rest of the church steps. 

"ohhh no no no no no", the guys giggling like children. dean bringing you back into his side. "absolutely yes". 

"there's nothing going on-".

"because if so, it'd be cool y'know?", looking to seth for some teasing validation. "juggling both. some real TLC harem shit". 

and the mixed deadpan-grimace you take is beautiful. fulfills the void of all that long standing separation thats been existent till now. it's like you'd never left. everything feeling good and whole. 

"actually", seth adds. "i was reading, as most intelligent people do, and came up on this article about the fall of the postmodern monogamist nuclear family and the rise of polygamy... so yeah", seth feeling big in his little drop of whatever knowledge he thought that was. "nows the time for all that lovin you got sweetheart". 

and God maybe you should've came home sooner. dean laughing in the most ironic of ways. a good from the belly sort of laugh he hasn't done in a while. 

"you read?", he asks seth. words semi-genuine. 

"first of all", seth immediately brimming vexed. "i'm well read and why do you do this? i try to flex a little intellectual prowess and you shit on it". 

"ain't enough prowess in that mustard-fucking-seed brain thats worth an eighth of my shit". 

seth scoffs. "oh cause your shits just so damn prestigious". 

"thats right. premium shit. ask your mother". 

"if i gotta ask then maybe it ain't that good brother".

dean toughs a chuckle. "anyways...", feeling loss of touch again and then he's pulling you back to stand between him and seth for more questioning.  "...back to you". 

your attention switching between dean and seth. words trying their damnedest to sound sure. "there is no me and cody. i do not want or care to have roman again. drop this please". 

and deans never heard such a hard attempt at self-persuasion. 

"for now", seth relents. "but it is good to see you. very good. i been gettin bored lately". 

"a telenovela couldn't produce this much fuckin' mess, i'll tell you that much...but", dean pivots. throwing his hands up to surrender when your own hand swats his way. "...but...i agree. very happy to see you". 

and the softening you take to isn't something dean has seen for quite awhile. this more than mild reversion, a silent change of language where your arms cross and cover over in what he thinks is an anxious grasping at safety. the degree of it showcasing a vulnerability that maybe once upon a time you wouldn't have dared let be so exposed. 

"i'm hoping thats the general consensus", you let out.

seth hums short. sparing dean a glance through the tint of his shades. "one very big possible margin of error". 

"maybe even two", dean adds. aware of the context. 

"oh?", you give. 

but before any true indulgence of your flight or fight, dean pulls you along up the church stairs. "you'll see. we'll walk you in". 

your fingers squeeze over the thick set of his. thumb running in what feels like an aimless go at his skin. an attempt at quelling whatever anxieties threaten to fully undo you. dean squeezes back and slows the wide fast pace he's used to taking. 

"me being here though, whats the temperature on that? ya'll aren't...."

"mad? no", dean settles. "you left. you’re back home. its all good". 

you nod. matching now the width of their steps with a little more confidence. 

"then again", seth teases. "we weren't exactly the ones fluffed out and madly in love with you". 

and the fight you give not to smile is a comedy in of itself. that harsh fight against self-persuasion. 

dean snorting. "speak for yourself seth. i was quite literally ready to marry you before i found out you were so goddamn untouchable". 

you swat against dean's arm. a little more speed in your walking to get away from their teasing. "it wasn't like that with him".

"funerals make people delusional. so we'll let you live". 

giana rarely feels threatened, with being the daughter of a silversmith and all, it affords her the luxury of patience. but this doesn't feel good. having to constantly maneuver strangers and their strange, too ancient to understand histories. maneuvering for him and for the willing give of his attention. said attention that lingered elsewhere. and giana doesn't mind the occasional funeral, but she doesn't particularly enjoy–not that its supposed to be a joyous occasion—bloodline funerals. they're busy, rowdy affairs. men covered from head to toe in black, draped in leather, and smelling of too much amber wood and tobacco. all of them too mournful to care about just how wild they could and would eventually be. and most of the women—mothers, sisters, nieces, long standing girlfriends and wives—seemed not to care. filled with too much indifference, so much so that they find delight sometimes in the way their men carry on. and amongst the crowd and energy of the room, giana settles, finally, within herself that it's all too much of everything she doesn't want. something that fails to coax her into a care that persuades her to delve deeper. but still she's patient for him. for roman and this easy, nameless situation she’s settled into with him.

and her oh so diligent thought to check the exits—the guys had penchants for sharp, abrupt turns into violence— leads her to roam into a wild fascination. this major pushing away of the goal post that flares her settled apathy to intrigue. 

because roman's father never smiled so much so that it reached his eyes. and if he has, giana has never seen it. but he's smiling now. thick tinted shades done away with as he holds against the shoulders of a woman giana has never seen before. his hands embracing delicately, adoration sweetening the shine in his eyes as they both smile at one another. his mouth kissing her cheek. 

and never until now has giana cared so much to understand. to want the silent force of such a great man to will itself upon her through adoration. of course she didn't need roman's father to love her, but never has he ever looked at her with more than anything other than something cordial and constrained. a diplomatic smile and head nod of acknowledgement. 

from all corners of the room came upon this woman a full adornment of adoration. grievers making room in their well of emotions. 

and maybe this purity of love is the appeal. the thing which giana has moved so quickly from to avoid. 

but to some odd mixture of dismay and relief, roman stays unmoved. 

roman grew up hearing the stories. fierce, scrappy remember when's and how it came to be's, like lullabies, if such soft tales were more vicious than virtuous. KG—God rest his soul— and his father. thick as thieves, his mother would tell him. the great street men of pensacola who birthed the bloodline. rubber against the heat of asphalt and a less than holy roar of harley davidson engines. and where ever they stepped the recognition followed. a bountiful hand off of respect, often wordless but pure in its spirit. it was something awe inspiring. a dream that seemed to roman to be more sure fated than not. because if his father was the king, than surely there would be a time of a great succeeding. the president's patch promised to the prince since his own making. and even from young, roman could feel it, see it. the coming into fruition of a future that was more fate than dream. and the grime of it just came so natural. the style and the dirty flare. how could it all not be his? 

but with age came other things. other little complexities. off the road ambitions that lent themselves to less harsh, more ardent affairs. because KG didn't have sons. KG had a daughter. and the same feelings of promise he felt towards his father's legacy, he felt towards her. towards you. and here came a natural drawing in to one another, that grew steadily in it's own time. his commitment to childishness at fourteen and fifteen, turning on its head at sixteen. and soon all the stupid, petulant things didn't matter so much anymore, because all that mattered was the sweetening of your voice in his ears. persuasive and goading to his seventeen year old senses. and then came eighteen, nineteen and twenty. a man—because who would tell him he wasn't—with his own mind, his own way and his own bike, pensacola a playground made by his father for all his delights. races and bars and late night rides. KG's amused knowing stare and the heavy disapproval of your mother. by twenty one, you were his without ever having to say it. 

lingering stares and touches, turning more sure by the second, till they became heavy and unmovable. a stain. 

and that staining proved to be permanent. a deep etching that preserved itself in time. beyond the distance even. a hardening in his bones and over his heart till the beautiful youthful heat of it turned cold and grey. 

a fettering he had started so long ago, unable to be released. and he sees that now, amongst this great show of love as people surround you to greet adoringly, that all this work to undo you, was just a lousy attempt at forgetting. 

and that shit is vexing. filters the mourning in his spirit till all thats there is this silent flaring. anger. because how audacious were you really? to show your face after so many years? after breaking him so easily? your eyes uncovered and beautiful still, and your lips smiling, hugging his father. acting oh so humble. 

romans jaw shifts. clenches hard before release. his eyes taken by a slight narrowing stare that only fixes itself at the meeting of it with his fathers. the joy in him battling against the irritation rife in romans bones. and it all feels so shitty and rotten. a heavy disturbance in his belly. he needs a drink or two even. something strong. an agent of forgetfulness, of numbing. 

and of course with every bloodline funeral there is the draping over of a gray sky. moody and still and blanketing. the swell of bodies in the church filing out as the mourning family took to cars and the guys slowly step towards a heinously long row of motorcycles. but who would they be if the procession were not this heavy, dirty, roaring clash of engines along the streets. the show of it, the noise and the leather and the all black, it was just their way. tradition. something that—and even if it exhausted him—roman would hold to forever. because there was nothing else to know or live for aside from this. a life always dreamed of. and he'd honor it till he couldn't anymore. when others were carrying him in a casket to the cemetery. 

roman takes his time getting to his dyna. surveying the buzz of energy. shades masking his eyes now as he watches jimmy, jey and naomi surround you almost covetously. his jaw clenching again. mounting with irritation. wanting that hard drink more by the second. 

and he can smell the sweetness of giana's perfume. a wafting at his side, becoming closer and closer, that oddly eases the tension in his shoulders. and she, amongst everyone else, is none the wiser to such minute details. the deep understandings of such intertwined and complex histories totally evading her. roman figures now, with the way his vexation wells steadily, that she's better for it. saving him even from the not so efficient procedure of having to explain. because that in itself was a task with more surgical leaning qualities. he'd have to actually open himself up to the vulnerabilities of past circumstance. an in depth overview of just how deeply you'd severed yourself from him. and that, he absolutely wanted to avoid at all cost. even the possibility of it made his stomach drop. 

a whiskey neat. yeah that would straighten him good. 

"who is she?"

the curiosity, he finds odd. because giana was always so quick to maintain that she didn't care much for the inner workings of "whatever you got going on", as she'd say. but now the interest was written about her face clearly. and it was everything that roman did not want. he didn't want roundtable talks, twenty one questions and all about me discussions explaining the intricacies of past lives. he wanted the nameless, shapeless situation they'd always maintained. why the hell was she so curious now?

he turns to her. "be specific. we're at a funeral", clenching his jaw. and if not for the thick of his beard, she'd recognize it as such an obvious tell of his annoyance. 

her head nods in your direction. "the woman your father seems to have so much love for". 

"funerals make him sentimental. he can't help himself". 

"if eye-fuckin her is all sentiment then neither can you". 

roman unfolds the legs of his shades and rests them on cooly. this smooth slipping on of a cover to mask the surprise threatening to shine in his eyes. because to him, that poor heavy build of displeasure felt all palpable. this absolute etching into his face that could be readable to anyone who cared enough to look. but maybe his irritations then didnt appear as whole as they felt to him. he has yet to master the stoicism of his father, the same father who now has so suddenly forsaken his stoic disposition for absolute adoration. bringing on an obvious shift to the spirit of the day. really didnt need whatever giana was attempting to muster up. 

he needs a drink. badly wants it actually. 

"whatever you think it is, its not". releasing the neat knot in his hair as he palms his bike helmet. avoiding the bare over of giana's eyes. a patient burn in of brown he can feel in his skin. "shes a good friend of the family".

"ohhh", a sarcastic draw out. gianas arms folding over. "well if shes a good friend, then i got no choice but to play nice".

and roman cant help the snort that leaves him. the giana he met months ago, suddenly so different now. "stick to what you know gi. playin brazen ain't your game". 

the sweet jasmine of her perfume overtaking the rainy scent of such an oddly mournful afternoon. easing further into him till her hands are holding his cheeks. thumbs running over freckles. a show of intimacy that neither satisfies or disappoints him. and maybe thats worse than feeling either of the extremes. 

her lips kissing his. lingering before she releases him. "and playin clueless ain't yours". 

roman mounts his bike. helmet fastening. he starts the engine and like some great call to action, the guys disperse from their little groupings in front the church to make way to their rides. this small army of all black, draped in leather. 

he looks to giana. eyes hidden behind his shades and his face emulating the great impassiveness of his father. "we are what we are", this vague skating around of words. words that affirm the simplicity of their romantic situation. because thats what it is. "we're good". making no effort to look her way as he backs out of his space to lead the procession of bikes.

the first shot of whiskey is to wet his palate. the oh so simple taste of a familiar spiced burning. and the second shot is friendly. doesn't suffer him to grimace or grunt in that faithful way. settling in faster, easier, a fire on his tongue that steeps into his blood. the third take of whiskey warming his belly. a deep restraining. and then comes that odd form of clarity. all the overthought things, less overthought. the diligent fight that once existed, managing that complicated flow, because what were words and thoughts and feelings anyways? if not just the dregs of an already downed beer. useless idle remains. but still that foamy sludge lingered, like a thick film at the top of his drowning patience, refusing to go ignored. his tongue forsaking the whiskey for beer. cold and his palm clutching it for dear life. the heat of his body losing to the icy chill of the bottle. and he's losing everywhere. his presence waning amongst the energy of the clubhouse. 

the guys mingling as they always did. heavy knocking bass from the speakers and the too loud boostings of laughter. whispers and clinking. bottles and shot glasses. the warm brown of creaky hardwood walls and the coarse gray of the floors. the leather couches swishing from the rise and fall of bodies. so many bodies. and the more he attempts to sip his beer while missing the dregs the more it foams over his mustache. the more he sinks into his seat, the louder the room gets. this sharp focus about him that can't be mitigated. the whiskey and the beer working in vicious tandem. whiskey makes him hot. molten lava flowing over with a threatening pace to reign amongst the fright of the people. 

and he can do it if he likes. he can let the remains of him loose and reign amongst the people. forcibly siphon the energy since everything was so damn funny. 

that laughter filling the air, where the joke is too funny. takes the attention too well, till the room has no choice but to yield. the twins were good at doing that. at coveting the attention innocently. and everyone always fell victim to it. it made for good times. for good memories. but that was the problem. 

all this strolling down into remember when's made roman's belly ache. a nagging twist too hot to ignore. 

"and you know the type of guy i am. im approachin ole girl all gentlemanly n'shit. finesse game on damn near a thousand".

whiskey makes roman hot. makes his blood wreathe with what feels like anger. and maybe thats why he doesn't drink the stiffer stuff too much. 

"next thing i know, we back at her's and im in it, like in it. neighbors know my government type shit. and then BOOM the damn front door opens. it's her HUSBAND UCE!", jey grabbing a too-drunk seth's shoulder. 

and roman can feel the damp way his skin grows. leather burdening his shoulders. 

"i swear my lil nineteen year old ass was shook. damn near was peeing on myself hiding in that closet. i ain't know nothing about being the other dude. i was tryna get out of there".

"fuckin' with cougars had ya ass shook, hidin in closets, danglin out of windows and shit, tryna escape", jimmy quips. laughing and sipping at his cup. 

and with every new height of laughter, comes this deeper sinking in of whatever heaviness that's making roman suffer. because it was too much to simply call it anger. anger never consuming him so wholly. 

"but the SAVE uce, the save!", jey's arm throwing around your shoulder till you were tucking under him. hugged into his side. "my sis came in clutch. rolled up quick with that lil cutlass ciera and saved my ass". 

the mirth in your eyes, crinkling at the corners as these little delicate laughs escape you. it makes him fume. the ease you've taken, returning back into the fold so seamless. aided by the love and longing of so many who seem to have forgotten just how shitty it was. a sudden departure. this tearing away that never really mended. like the raw splitting of skin, together again but gruesomely scared. the pain that came with such a nasty tattering felt still. felt when it was quiet and when it rained. when he drank too much whiskey and when the foamy dregs of beer stuck annoyingly to his lips. and then comes this accidental meeting. the linking of your gazes and it stutters the beating in his chest. an arresting that feeds the fire. because how does such power still exist? a potency that makes his stomach lurch. 

your eyes are soft. hesitant. scared. and none of it satisfies him. none of it fixes the wrongness twisting in him. and even when he wins, watching you rip away to look else where, the triumph in victory forsakes him. 

your lips sipping on a drink. something mixed he's sure. because things haven't changed so much that the way you take your alcohol completely evades him. but nothing ever really gets past roman. not much. definitely not cody and his eyes. the small slipping smile of his lips and the linger of his hand on your shoulder. flanking your side like he's been ordered to protect you. but it's not new. cody's always been servile. ready to perform for you. and maybe, just maybe he can't help it. maybe its the history roaming in cody's veins, an inherited drive to see to it that you were ok. the same way dusty did for KG. because dusty was the protector. the slightly older man. KG's slightly older "brother". but cody was different because he lingered. his eyes and his touch. just long enough for roman to notice. and never has it bothered him so much till now. 

the whiskey making him hot still. not so much his skin anymore—though yes he was a little warm—but the vexing in his blood. and no it was not the agent of forgetfulness he needed it to be. it numbed nothing. mitigated nothing. 

and when you slip away from this reminiscing cluster of laughter and leather, he has all the mind to follow you. because the gall of it all steadily amasses the heat of his anger. that desire to siphon the energy pushing deeper until it begins to solder to his bones. a dense take to his will. because how can you be so comfortable with yourself  in his presence, that such maneuvers have no hesitation? no second guessing? and then to make him watch your fit of smiles with another man. their has to be another word other than hot to describe the blaze in him. the overflow of vexation. but either way cordiality is for the fucking birds. 

roman stands, and with it everything follows. eyes and a swelling anticipation. waning laughter and the slow drift away of mouths telling old memories. 

seth shifts. suddenly more sober than he's been for hours. aggressively clearing his throat to lessen the torture of such an abrupt silence. 

dean just stares. sips from his beer and holds his eyes over roman. and if not for the drowning of whiskey and beer, roman would run rife with appreciation for such a sharp attentiveness. 

and cody. oh cody. never too hard to read. his thumb fidgeting over his knuckles. restless but ready. 

roman crosses the floor, stepping closer till his shoulder checks cody's. a stiff leather against leather. something petulant and liquor inspired. 

the noise of the clubhouse back to its former glory as roman disappears down a long wide hallway. slow measured steps as he feigns for stability. and of course it'd take more whiskey to have him completely stumble, but the additive of the fire in his blood makes things all the more unusual. and this push to seem alright, unaffected, only reinforces the opposite. makes his steps heavy and the pounding in his chest thunder. 

and when he gets to you, the unrelenting need to be vicious overtakes him. nearly threatens him to illness if he fails. and maybe thats just the anger again. the pensacola heat and the whiskey and the hurt. 

the wide hallway is small somehow. feels taken up. by warm subtle perfume smelling of autumn and far away ancient things. hugs and summer morning whispered i love you's. soft eyes and softer fingers. in his hair and over the steady growing muscles of his shoulders. because memories aren't just in words, this tedious coming together of letters and syllables, it's the time of day, scars left by long healed bruises and perfumes. its the old, overwrought beating in his pulse. uneven breaths and shy lingering eyes. and here the rushing back is quick. like whiplash. and the idea that such a thing has to rush back to him, cross over to close such a wide distance, is the source of such deeply rooted anger. 

it is the second coming back of everything lost. 

fuck being cordial.

a framed photo sits in your hand. your thumb brushing over the old wood of it. the wide long hallway filled with doors that lead to small bedrooms and framed photos. because the clubhouse for many, was always like an actual house. a place to stay, to be, when no where else was available. like a home for family. 

you hang it back up, turning to look at another. wistfulness in your eyes. it makes his jaw clench. thick arms folding over his chest. feigning still for stability. 

"s'nothin in here that's changed", you give. a too short olive branch. the pretty shape of your eyes taking to a widely framed photo. you and KG, smiling under the harsh beam of the sun. posing cooly next to his custom harley soft-tail. 

romans heart skips. your voice sinking sweetly to mix among the welling over of his pain turned anger. 

"that's usually what happens when things go untouched".  

and it comes in, as you finally turn to face him, this storming chant. fuck being cordial. fuck it. whiskey inspired and sounding so right. amongst the muffled droning of too drunk bikers and the easy mean speak of his own thoughts, your eyes take him in. a meticulous working over, as if to reaffirm your memory. and he does the same. your body done up in traditional bloodline funeral attire. black boots, black denim, black leather and silver jewelry. your hair so different from the last time he'd seen you but your face the same. everything of your father except your eyes. those being all your mother. eyes that always seemed so close and far away. leaving him doubtful and chasing. always in attempt to settle them. to remedy the faraway look of them with something satisfying. 

back then, all those years ago, he only ever wanted to satisfy you.

being amicable? yeah. no. 

"he talked about you a lot before he passed", he starts. inching closer, step by step, till he's close enough to smell your perfume in full. the same scent you've worn since you were sixteen. nostalgia working to run rife in him, his displeasure working deeper. "little soliloquies n'shit. said he was happy he had you, cause if he had sons, they'd be too much like him. too fixed into everything. too stuck in the life. too loyal". 

the glazing over of your eyes shine under the warm hallway light. lazily going about his face. that drink you'd had filled with whatever before definitely not your first.

"you're saying this because?" voice edged with hesitancy. guarded. 

"i don't know really", his back leaning away to rest against an empty spot on the wall.  "i guess i just realized how wrong he was, and KG was always right about shit but that? very very wrong". his lips smiling malicious. head tilting. "m'sure all that heartbreak and disappointment, getting abandoned. the way it was eating away at him, he wouldn't have gotten that with a son". 

you laugh. something mirthless and corrosive. biting into the air the way it fills up the hallway to taunt him. 

"sika's little baby bird couldn't have his chance out the nest", your mouth smiling with teeth. a mean sort of amusement taking your eyes as you meet him. "jealousy never did look good on you. it makes you whiny. needy. like a child, and it's boring", you chuckle. rolling tipsy eyes. "for the first time in a while i'm seeing you and already the argumentative shit is boring me". 

"oh?", his back pushing off the wall. eyes baring down. a mirthless smile slipping in to mirror yours. "did it get a little to real for you? is the ride down memory lane not fun enough anymore?" his breathing deep. brows pulling together and his jaw goes to clench. "yeah... all that nostalgia is a bitch ain't it? just a whole bunch of bullshit sentiment and remember whens". and whether it is the draw of your scent—your presence—or the rushing of his ego he does not know, but the space even in such a wide hallway grows minimal. the whiskey on his tongue washing over just as the tequila on yours does the same. sharing angry breaths. "you got them boys reelin, fallin all over you, all wistful and simpy and shit. what'd you do to cody to make him go all puppy eyed? you fuck him finally?" 

"you should know better than anyone, cause i never needed to fuck you to make you care", and the stinging there is deep. cruel and gut twisting. "yeah no, you got all simpy and shit on your own". 

a few inches closer. if he were inches closer he'd be able to feel your lips. his eyes lingering over them. desire and pain gathering themselves to war. "you got him placeholdin. doing him the same way you did me". 

"the same way you doing her". 

and till now he'd forgotten about giana. her suspicions and her questions. her sudden doing away with of that apathy he found so faithful and easy to enjoy. 

because of you. everything always for him. because of you. 

"he's always been a little soft for you", roman smiling. "but cody is smart. your m.o. ain't hard to pick up".

"i'd love to know what you think that is". 

"i don't even think its something you can help. it's just in you. hereditary shit. just like your moth-"

a breath toughing out. "watch. yourself". 

"you leave. thats what you do. you leave". 

and here there is no triumph in victory either. not when your eyes well, nor when you step away from him to leave the hallway. the twisting in his gut tightens and the whiskey soaking his blood is graceless. makes all the attempts at stability a failure . his back against the wall again. feeling ill and incomplete. 

Oof… that was a-lot lol. roman being a dick unfortunately, but his tune will change eventually. let me know what you think!

#roman reigns #cody rhodes #biker au #the bloodline #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black reader #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes fanfic #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes x black reader #dean ambrose #seth rollins #female reader #black female reader #anyone can read! #joannasteez

[handsupinthebalorclub]

Anagapesis (chapter 3)

pairing: the shield x reader

word count: 3,034

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

warnings: cursing, mentions of betrayal, violence and trust issues

a/n: I have a question for you guys. Do you like the idea of having romantic subplots or should this story be strictly platonic? 

playlist: x

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four

Normally, when the announcer team wanted a WWE talent to be on commentary for the night, an email would be sent to them or their manager weeks prior. Yet, for some reason, a last minute request was found in your inbox Sunday afternoon. The Shield had a match against The Bar scheduled, so you assumed commentary wanted to take Roman out of the match to add more fire to the pre-existing feud Seth and Dean had with The Bar. But, to your surprise, the email was a commentary call for you during their match. You had been on commentary a number of times before, but it was always accompanying one of your clients. You were weary about being called up alone, but after you had thought about it for a few hours, it made sense you would be getting some attention with your admission back into the group.

You stepped out from behind of the black curtains and begun the descent down the ramp. The Shield’s music blasted throughout the arena, which caused fans to gawk at the three men who traveled through the crowd. You crossed paths with them briefly once they had jumped over the barriers. You had already gave them a pep talk earlier but gave them a smile of encouragement nonetheless. Before you had stepped out of reach, Roman placed a hand on your shoulder and nodded as if saying ‘good luck’.

Thankfully, Roman wasn’t mad at you for falling asleep at Finn’s hotel room. By the time he had returned from his search, you had gotten out of the shower and had a huge monologue ready that asked for his forgiveness. The concept of losing one of the only positive influences you had at the moment frightened you to no end. But Roman was very understanding and simply wrapped you up in his arms upon first sight. When you explained what had happened, he only smiled and asked for you to be more careful next time.

“Welcome, y/n.”  Michael Cole greeted as you sat down in the designated chair. You took the extra microphone that was being offered to you by Coachman, but kept your eyes on the guys as they met The Bar in the center of the ring. “Thank you for joining us.” You took your gaze off of the match and looked towards the announcer team.

You didn’t know Corey Graves, Jonathan Coachman, or Michael Cole that well. You knew Corey was close with Seth and Roman, and he was on decent terms with Dean, but you never quite befriended him yourself. Michael Cole was someone you had spoke to during events, but it was always small talk until either of you had to leave. Coachman was new to the commentary team, but you had heard a lot about him from his previous positions in the industry.

“Thank you for having me,” You said as the bell rang, symbolising the beginning of the match.

Dean was the first person to make a move. He threw himself towards Sheamus, but the Irishman was quick to counter the charge. Sheamus hooked his arm underneath of Dean’s underarm and pulled him into a backbreaker. Michael Cole made a comment about the move, which led into a whole conversation between him and Corey. This went on for quite a while until Michael Cole completely dismissed his co-worker’s banter and decided to pull you into the conversation.

“Y/n, are you happy to be working with the Shield again?” Before you could respond, Coachman decided to pipe up.

“According to Dolph Ziggler, she isn’t.”

You leaned back into the black leather conference chair with an irritated facial expression. Technically, you no longer represented Dolph nor the Smackdown brand, so you could outwardly detest his words.

“Actually,” You spoke up. “What Dolph said was false.” This statement earned various curious looks from the three men. “I never confined in him about working with The Shield again. He didn’t even know I was leaving until I had already departed for RAW. We weren’t friends like he painted us to be.”

“Why do you think Dolph lied?” Corey asked. You shrugged lightly and allowed your eyes to fall upon Dean tagging Seth into the match.

“To make himself look like the good guy, I guess. Maybe even give the locker room a reason to doubt my loyalty to the Shield? I never did understand that man’s thought process. I suppose they don’t call him The Show Off for nothing, though.”  

“So you’re saying you feel completely comfortable working with the Shield again?”

You hesitated to answer Michael’s question at first, but collected yourself after a few seconds passed.

“My relationship with the members of the Shield is a work in progress. Things aren’t quite the same as they used to be, and I feel very sad about that, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure The Shield continues to thrive.”

This must have been a good enough answer for the three color commentators, because they began to speak about the way Seth was climbing onto the ropes to perform a high flying move. Seth managed to successfully land the frog splash on Sheamus and pull him into the pin, but the orange haired man kicked out. While Seth caught his breath, Sheamus pulled his body over to the corner of the ring and tagged in Cesaro. Cesaro went over to the recovering male and grabbed the back of his pants. He forced Seth up to his feet and uppercut him.

“Y/n,” Coachman began. “It’s been awhile since you’ve seen Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose, and Roman Reigns in action besides the match last week, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Over the last couple of years I’ve seen them in some matches when they went up against one of my clients. But, I haven’t had the chance to actually sit down and analyze their moves until now.” This was somewhat of a lie since you had watched numerous amounts of YouTube videos to see when the reunion was beginning to form, but you didn’t want to tell them that.

“Who do you think has improved the most and the least since the old days?”

You thoughtfully watched as Seth recoiled from one of Cesaro’s attacks and did a high kick to his opponents jaw.

“I think in a way, they’ve all improved a lot. When The Shield formed they all had a strong foundation, and it’s become really apparent to me since I’ve re-joined the group that their styles have grown. Honestly, sitting here right now, I’m fairly impressed with Rollins.”

“Really?” Corey’s eyebrows arched upwards. His eyes shifted over to you to make eye contact before he looked back at the match.

“His moves look a lot cleaner than what I’m used to. He’s always been the one to calculate and plan but it seems as if puts a lot more thought in between moves. He also seems to be having a lot more…” You paused as you tried to find the correct word. “fun? During matches.”

“Is that last part necessarily a good thing?” Michael remarked, but Corey quickly followed up with another question.

“And the person who has improved the least?”

“Like I’ve stated before, they’ve all improved throughout the years. But, I’d have to say that title goes to Dean. Dean is so unpredictable when he’s fighting and he doesn’t have a set style-so it’s hard to gauge exactly if he meant to do something or if he’s just rolling with the punches.”

Back in the ring, Seth had Cesaro in a chokehold. He was slowly inching his way over to the corner where Roman and Dean stood, despite Cesaro’s efforts. Eventually, Seth’s hand made contact with Roman’s outstretched one and Roman entered the fight. Seth handed Cesaro over to Roman before climbing over the ropes. Roman pulled Cesaro above him and performed a Samoan drop. When Cesaro’s back collided against the canvas, Roman threw his body overtop of the other man and pinned him. The ref counted to three and claimed the Shield as the victors of the match.

“Thank you again for having me,” You placed down the microphone and stood up from the leather seat, slightly stretching as you did so. You gave the three announcers a kind smile before walking towards the ring to join Dean, Seth and Roman.

* * *

The bustling sounds of catering filled your ears as you sat alone at one of the circular white tables. A plate of various fruits sat in front of you, which you had been picking at since you had arrived a half hour ago. Dean, Seth, and Roman had disappeared into the locker room after you guys had arrived at the arena, and you doubted you would see them any time soon since you weren’t scheduled to accompany Roman in his match against Triple H for another twenty minutes.

“Hey, y/n.”

Or, maybe not. You looked to your left to see Seth approaching in his Shield attire, although his vest was nowhere to be seen. You couldn't quite blame him for waiting for the last minute before putting it on. The vest concept never did seem very comfortable to you. That’s why you had opted for a leather jacket overtop of a black tank top when your “ring gear” was being decided.

“Hi,” A smile came onto your face as Seth stopped so he was standing right next to your table. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just looking for a way to kill time before we have to go out.” He shrugged as he picked up a blueberry from the plate in front of you and popped it into his mouth. “Wanna take a walk around the arena with me?”

“Sure, beats sitting here.”  The sound of the metal chair you were sitting in scraping against the concrete floor stopped Seth from stealing another piece of fruit, this time a grape, from your plate. You gestured towards the plate, a laugh escaping your throat as you did so. “Do you want the rest?”

“No, I’m good. Let me just take the grape before you throw it out, though.”

You picked up the plate and held it in front of Seth, who took his grape happily. As the two of you headed out of catering, you threw the plate out and exited into the hallway. You and Seth made your way through the labyrinth of corridors, talking about whatever came to mind.

“How do you think Roman’s going to do against Triple H?” You asked.

“Roman’s totally going to kick that old man’s ass. Why wouldn’t he?”

Your silence spoke volumes, causing Seth to pause in his tracks. You did the same and looked towards him with pursed lips. He looked tense for a second, but with a shake of his shoulders, the tension seemed to slip from his body.

“You’re going into your ‘worried manager’ mode, aren’t you?”

“No,” You were quick to defend yourself, but the deadpanned look on Seth’s face made you sigh. “Okay, yes. I am. Can you blame me, though? Yeah, we had a good run a Payback. No significant injuries and a win at a pay per view. Hell, it’s a manager’s wet dream. It was simultaneously one of the proudest and scariest moments in my career. But, Hunter’s going to be absolutely pissed about it. Especially after Batista quit-”

“Y/n, take a deep breath.” Seth took a step forward and placed his hands onto your shoulders firmly to stop your rambling. “Roman’s going to be fine. Dean and I are going to be fine, too. Whatever Triple H throws at us, we’re gonna hit him back with ten times the force.” Seth’s brown eyes looked deeply into yours before he pulled you into a hug. You melted into the warm embrace, the feeling of his toned arms wrapped around you made you feel safe-a feeling that you didn’t feel often in your line of work.

One moment, your arms are wrapped around Seth’s torso and the next, you’re staring at a black door. It took you a few seconds to process what exactly had just happened, but when you came to the realization that Seth had just pushed you into a custodian closet, you huffed.

“Ha, ha. Very funny Seth. Prank your stressed out manager. Gosh, you’re such a dick.” It wasn’t unusual for the members of the Shield to prank each other in over the top ways. You placed your hand onto the doorknob of the closet to open it, but the door stayed shut. “Really? You locked it? We don’t have time for this, Seth. We need to get back to the main part of the arena. C’mon.”

An eerie silence followed your words and a sinking feeling entered your stomach.

“Seth?” Again, nothing. “This isn’t funny!” You wrapped your hands around the doorknob and desperately attempted to free yourself, but it wouldn’t budge. Panic seeped into your brain and your breath quickened. The concept that Seth was no longer standing in the hallway hit you like a ton of bricks. Your eyes widened as you patted your pockets to find your phone, only to remember you had left it in your duffel bag.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl, making a mere ten minutes seem like hours. You banged your fists against the door rapidly in hopes that someone would hear you.

“Help! Please, someone!”

Four more minutes passed before you slid down onto the floor with tear stained cheeks.  You screamed until your voice morphed into sobbed pleas. Your fists were pulsating but you still struck the door, although the rhythm was less frantic.

Your mind buzzed in your skull. It created so much noise that you almost didn’t hear the steady footsteps coming from the hallway. A rush of adrenaline entered your body, causing you to jump up to your feet and bang upon the door again.

“Please! Let me out!”

The footsteps paused and you watched in awe as the doorknob turned slightly. As the door swung open, it revealed a very concerned stagehand.

“Miss l/n? Are you okay? What happened?” She immediately took a step back and allowed you to exit the closet.

“Where’s Seth Rollins?” You breathed out, ignoring her questions. You only had one goal right now and that was to find Seth.

Her face twisted into a look of confusion, as if she was attempting to piece the puzzle together herself.

“He’s in the ring with Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns. Shouldn’t you be there as well?”

Your eyes widened and your heartbeat quickened. “I-I have to go.” You quickly dashed in the direction that you and Seth had came. Wrestlers and crew alike gave you muddled glances as you entered the gorilla for a few different reasons, but the two most common was that fact that you should have been with your clients and your frazzled appearance.

The sound of muffled grunts and metal bouncing repeatedly off of something made you gaze at a nearby monitor. You were already riddled with different emotions, but nothing could compare to what you saw on that screen. Seth. Beating Dean over and over again with a metal chair and Roman laying only a few feet away, face down with his hands wrapped around himself. Triple H and Randy Orton stood at the bottom of the ramp, triumphant smiles plastered across their faces.

“N-no…” Fresh tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you ran over to the black curtain that parted the WWE Universe from the gorilla. You pushed open the split fabric and stepped out onto the ramp, the situation you saw on the monitor coming to live in front of you. You had to felt the urge to look away as you barreled down the ramp. You don’t know what you exactly going to do once you got to Seth but it probably wasn’t going to be pretty.

You made it to the edge of the ramp, but before you could throw yourself into the ring to stop Seth, Randy pulled you into his arms. You tried your best to thrash around, but his grip didn’t loosen up in the slightest.

“Welcome to the party, y/n.” The tone of Hunter’s voice made your skin crawl.

The metal chair bounced off of Dean’s body once more but this time, Seth allowed the object to clash onto the floor of the ring. His head slowly looked upwards to look at the crowd as if saying ‘I did that’ before his eyes snapped over to where you, Hunter, and Randy stood. You saw a flicker of something in his eyes when he saw you behind held back by Randy, but you couldn’t tell if it was surprise or amusement.

Seth’s eyes scanned over his former brothers before he picked up the chair and made his way out of the ring and in your direction. You tried to stare him down, but he refused to make eye contact with you as he looked towards Hunter. His gaze then switched to Randy, who allowed his grip to loosen for just enough time for Hunter to grab your left shoulder firmly. Seth outstretched the arm and offered the managaled chair to Randy, who happily grabbed the weapon and climbed back into the ring. Hunter wrapped his other arm around the shoulder of Seth proudly.

You opened your mouth to snap at the two men, but the image of Randy slamming the chair right into Roman’s spine made you flinch. Your vision blurred from the tears that rushed down your face, but you could still see Randy take the vest and shirt off of Roman and the bruises that followed.

This was the point in which you tried to run over to the ring, but Seth wrapped his arms around your chest once you pulled free from Hunter. The fact that you felt safe in his arms practically a half hour before but now felt completely terrified churned your insides.

“Let go of me, you fuck!” You growled, but Seth chose to stay quiet. Hunter walked over to the apron of the ring and climbed onto it so he could get a better view of what was happening. Even with you in his arms, Seth managed to position himself next to Hunter. You watched in both horror and anger as Randy continued to beat down your brothers.

Moments passed before Randy took a step back from pummeling Roman, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Hunter turned to Seth before he nodded towards the injured Dean and Roman.

“Let her go,” He commanded to Seth. As soon as Seth’s arms dropped to his sides, you lurched forward and propelled yourself between the ropes. You dropped to your knees next to Dean and Roman, your tears now falling freely as you weeped in between them. The crowd formulated a chant for the man who had done this to your bothers. ‘You sold out!’ repeated throughout the stands.  

Dean noticed your hunched figure above him and maneuvered his body so his head rested in your lap. You ran your hands through his tangled brown hair.

“I’m okay, kiddo.” Dean cracked a smile despite the pain that shot through his body. You felt movement behind but you didn’t bother to look up until Hunter had wrapped his arms around both Randy and Seth.

“That’s Evolution…” Hunter sneered down at you before looking back up at the camera. “I win.”

“Y/n!”

You sprang upwards and looked around at your surroundings, bringing you back to reality. Eventually, your eyes landed on Dean. He was sitting on side of your bed, and even in the dark of the hotel room you could tell his face showed concern.

“I’m guessing you were having a nightmare or something? You were screaming so loud I thought someone was going to call the front desk and tell them someone’s committing a murder.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the lump that had formed in your throat forbade them from escaping. Tears began to stream down your cheeks and land onto the white bedsheets, one after another in rapid succession. Your chest began to grow tight and your brain was foggy. Everything, all of the stress and the frustration, that had been building up in your life had finally rushed forward.

“H-hey..” He inched closer to your now heavily crying form and placed a hand onto your back in a comforting matter. When he did, you quickly latched onto his shirt and began crying into his chest. Dean’s body tensed from the sudden action, but his muscles slowly relaxed and he started rubbing circles into your back. “Shhh, you’re okay sweetheart. Everything’s okay.”

After awhile, your breathing had steadied and Dean looked down to see that the exhaustion from your breakdown had put you back to sleep. He shifted slightly and pulled your sleeping form away from his body. A light smile found its way onto his face as he went over to his own bed.

* * *

Neither you nor Dean spoke a word to each other the next day until Dean broke the uncomfortable silence. One hand was dug into the pocket of his jeans while the other fiddled with the keys of the rental car.

“Hey, I’m about to head out to grab some lunch. Want to come?”

You nodded, although you were taken back from his offer. In all honesty, you had been under the impression that the event  from last night had left him with even more of a reason to dislike you, but this action proved you wrong.

“Yeah, sure.” You closed your laptop and stood up. Dean made his way towards the door but paused when he noticed that you were rummaging through the backpack that rested upon your bed.

“What are you looking for?” He asked as he leaned back onto the wall.

“My wallet.” You answered simply as you sorted through the various items in the bag.

One of Dean’s eyebrows cocked upwards.

“I’ll pay.”

You casted him a shocked look, but decided not to question his change in character since it involved free food.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem.”

With that situation solved, the two of you exited the hotel room and went down into the lobby parking lot. You climbed into the passenger seat of the rental vehicle and Dean got into the driver’s seat. The car came to life with a hum and in the span of minutes, the two of you were driving down the street on your way to eat.

When Dean pulled up to the restaurant, a large grin stretched across your face. You couldn’t help but smile at the quaintness of the small diner in front of you. A neon sign sat on the roof, accompanied by a large red arrow that pointed to the double doored entrance. The parking lot was almost empty despite a cluster of cars in the left hand corner of the blacktop.

“Thought you’d like it. You always were a weirdo when it came to diners.” He smirked when he saw your reaction.

“I would take offense to that, but you’re kind of true.” You chuckled as you unclipped your seatbelt.

Everyone who travels has a quirk. Some people collect postcards, others enjoy seeing gigantic items in which the owners claim they’re the largest in the world, and most by merchandise  to commemorate where they have been. But you? You enjoyed visiting diners.

You knew it was strange and every travel partner you have had since joining WWE have pointed out that fact as well, but you always found them fascinating. No matter what state or country you were in, every diner had a similar feel to it. Over the years, you had grown a certain distaste for change. It felt comforting to you that no matter what, you could walk into a diner and feel some familiarity.  

When you entered the diner, you were greeted by an elderly hostess.

“Table for two?”

“Yes, please.” You smiled back at the lady. She nodded and grabbed two menus. The lady guided you and Dean through the restaurant and over to a booth that was nestled away from the doorway. She laid down the two menus and shot one more friendly smile before walking off.

“So,” you tapped your fingers against the white top of the table. You were obviously very confused in Dean’s sudden change of heart.

Dean must have noticed where this conversation was going because a sigh exited his mouth.

“Look, last night made me realize a lot of things.”

“Like?”

“I still care about you, no matter how hard I try not to. I could have woken you up, told you to pipe down and then go back to sleep. But, I couldn’t.” Dean paused as he tried to think of what else he wanted to say. “Last week when you didn’t come back to the hotel room, I kept calling you a bitch in my mind but I couldn’t stop myself from worrying so fucking much. I miss being that big brother figure to you.”

“I appreciate you telling me this and you were completely right in what you said last week.” You tried to ignore the shocked expression Dean horribly hid. “My work life and personal life are completely separate. I should have found time to talk to you and Roman. I truly apologize.”

“Hm. Apology accepted, kid. But don’t think you’re off the hook because I’m still mad. If you buy me a few beers next pub crawl, I’ll think about forgiving you a little bit more.” A faint smile came onto his lips. “Plus, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but what was all that about last night?”

“Can I put a pin in that question? We can talk about it later, I just don’t really want to talk about it now.” You admitted with a frown.

“Yeah, sure.” Dean said just as the waiter arrived.

You could tell it would take awhile to rekindle your friendship but Dean, but there was potential for things to go back to how they used to be.

tag list: @scuzmunkie / @alyj12 / @letshaveadepressingtime / @theroyalbrownbarbie / @shieldgallover / @nikora3010 / @zombiewerewolfqueen / @insaneship / @sausagefest1996 / @kingslaxerpark / @houndsofjxstice / @viperslunatic / @kenyadakblalock / @twisted1ginger / @captainfoxy22 / @calwitch / @staystrongyoureawarriorfighter

let me know if you’d like to be taken off or added to the tag list!

#wwe x reader #the shield #the shield imagine #the shield wwe x reader #seth x reader #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins imagine #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose imagine #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine

[wwevampireamongkpop]

Do something

Pairing: Roman Reigns x reader (platonic), Sheamus x reader (platonic?), Seth Rollins x reader (platonic), Dean Ambrose x reader (platonic), Renee

Warning: the usual cussing, slight angst i think lol, a pissed off Roman

A/n: idk what this is going to be, if y’all want more of this just let me know. Plus if you want to be tagged in all fics or certain superstars, let me know

Tag List: @ladyjayelehnsherr @crayzeebizkit 

Part 2

               You were ringside for the main event tag match between Sheamus, Cesaro, Samoa Joe, Jason Jordon, Dean and Seth. You weren’t expecting Dean to get hurt more than he already was. What no one expected was that Joe slammed Dean’s arm in between a crate in the trainer’s room.

               You tried to get Joe to stop the attack but that only resulted in him throwing you into the wall left shoulder first. He was supposed to have thrown you down the hall but he threw you into the wall instead. Seth was torn between the both of you. The man he called brother and the woman he called sister. Despite the pain in your shoulder, you were worried about Dean.

               Both you and Dean were put on the inactive list. Dean a lot longer than you. Despite being injured, you were backstage to support both Roman and Seth. Your shoulder wrapped up in a sling as you sat near the monitor as you saw a very angry Roman make his way to the ring. Renee sat down next to you as the match got underway.

               “How’s Dean doing?” Your eyes never leaving the pissed off Samoan.

               “He’s been better.” You could tell by the sound of her voice she wasn’t happy about what had happened. “He appreciates that you tried to stop Joe last week. He didn’t want you getting hurt though.”

               “I know but I couldn’t stand there and not do anything. He’s my brother from another mother and I’d hurt anyone who hurts him, Seth or Roman.” This made her smile.

               You saw Roman get himself disqualified by shoving the ref. After that, you saw him go into intense attack mode. Roman started attacking Joe, throwing him shoulder first into the ring posts and even hit him in the shoulder with the steel steps. He grabbed a chair and started to walk towards Joe, his left arm wrapped around the ring post closest to the ramp. Joe was clearly in pain but Roman didn’t care, he wanted Joe to hurt just as bad as you and Dean. The moment Roman was about to swing the chair, Joe let go of the post and started up the ramp with the help of some of the refs as a few stopped Roman from getting Joe again.

               “Do somethin’ now huh, who’s hurting now – huh?” Roman yelled at Joe as he was assisted to the back. He walked up the ramp after grabbing his IC title and the crowd was cheering for the Samoan as he walked. Roman smiled the moment he saw you as you stood there waiting for him. “What are you doing here?”

               “I wasn’t gonna miss you beating the shit out of Joe.” You gave him a one armed hug the best you could.

               “How long are you looking to being out baby girl?”

               “About six months. Torn rotator cuff, luckily I don’t need surgery. Docs want to keep an eye on the healing to make sure surgery isn’t needed.” You saw the pain in Roman’s eyes. He hated seeing you in any kind of pain and seeing you with a sling on your arm as well as knowing that possible surgery for you made him pissed. “Ro, I’ll be back before you know it. So I need you and Seth to look out after each other for me.”

               You placed your hand on his arm which caused him to look down at you and his eyes softened. Smiling up at him and gave him another, semi tight hug.

               “I’m technically not supposed to be here tonight so shh.” You held your finger to your lips and smirked at him. “I should be leaving before I get caught.”

               “Yeah, don’t need you getting in trouble sweetheart.” He pulled you into another and final hug and gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

               “Kick ass and keep that title as long as possible Big Dog.” You turned and walked away from the Samoan. You couldn’t help the tears that collected in your eyes.

               As you made your way through the hallways you thought you heard someone yell your name but you just kept walking towards the parking lot, not wanting to deal with whoever was trying to get your attention. That was until you felt a hand on your right shoulder which caused you to stop and turn around. The moment you turned, you instantly regretted it because there stood the Celtic Warrior Sheamus.

               “What do you want Sheamus? I want to leave.” Your eyes held anger and annoyance as you looked at him.

               “I was wondering how ya were doing.”

               “I’m fine. I won’t concern you with anything other than that I’m fine.”

               “Come on. With how long we’ve been friends, ya can’t leave me in the dark like this.”

               “I can’t?” You tilted your head slightly. “You let Samoa Joe throw my ass into a fucking wall, Sheamus. You did nothing to stop him. Story line or not. Besides you knew he was supposed to have thrown me down the hall, not a fucking wall.”

               “Look I’m sorry.”

               “You’re sorry. I call bullshit. You didn’t even bother to come see me while I was at the hospital last week. You didn’t even bother to text or even call me.” The two of you were friends since you were brought up from NXT last year and since you became part of the Shield when they reunited, your relationship with Sheamus faltered which you didn’t like one bit. “You let our friendship go south all because of this fucking feud between you and Cesaro and the Shield.”

               You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned around and walked out of the arena to your rental car. It was going to be a long six months but it was going to do you good to rebuild yourself and come back better than ever.

#roman reigns #wwe fanfiction #sheamus #cesaro #seth rollins #roman reigns x reader #dean ambrose x reader #seth rollins x reader #sheamus x reader

[inagetawaycarxo]

Poison | Mob!Boss!Roman Reigns {MOB!BOSS AU/Gangster AU}

❛❛ Can you imagine dating a Roman mob boss❜❜- @shieldgirl18​

+ ❛❛Gangster AU Roman reigns please❜❜-myritzaa

Pairings: Mob!Boss!Roman Reigns x Gangster Reader, Mob!Boss!Roman Reigns x Drug Lord!Seth Rollins (Platonic), Drug Lord!Seth Rollins x Mob!Boss!Roman Reigns (business partner), Cop!Drew McIntyre x Gangster!Reader

Featuring: Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, Y/n (Reader), Drew McIntyre, unnamed characters

Summary: who is deceiving Roman? They are closer then he thinks.

WARNINGS: betrayal, deceiving, mafia themes, gangster themes, drugs, a corrupt cop, probably got a lot of things wrong, cheating, errors.

Word Count: 853

A/N: two AU’S in one imagine. Also, I don’t see a lot of Gangster!Reader fics out there.

Seth turned around as soon as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. Smirking to himself as he turned around. Smiling wickedly as he saw Roman. Roman stopped walking. Standing in front of him, in a modern suit, and black shoes.

“Told you it was a huge supply.” Seth spoke. Roman looked around the warehouse with a satisfied smirk.

“Everything is going according to plan.” Seth smirked.  Roman smirked wickedly as he looked at the boxes.

His smirk suddenly dropped into a scowl. Seth’s smirk dropped into a look of worry, gulping rapidly, as a swam of cops with their guns drawn out in front of them, aiming at Roman, Seth, and their gang members.

“Hands in the air, all of you are under arrest for contributing, and trafficking drugs, the illegal operation of drugs.” A cop yelled as they pulled their arms behind their back, putting handcuffs on their wrist tightening them.

Seth felt like his heart was in his throat, as a cop put cuffs on his wrists. He shot Roman a panicked look. His heart beating ten times faster as he saw the deadpan expression Roman had. Seth quickly looked in front of him, an intense feeling of dread washing over him, the cop pulled him over to the car, opening the backseat door, shoving his head down as he pushed him into the back of the car roughly. Slamming the door. Seth’s gaze landed on Roman, as the cop shoved him into the car, his face void of expression. Seth gulped as he hoped they wouldn’t put him in the same cell as Roman, or jail…

Your heart pounded in your chest, as you sat down on the chair. Waiting for them to bring out Roman. You felt relief wash over you as Roman come out, handcuffs on his wrists and ankles, making you frown. Roman came into the room, the guards roughly guiding him over to the table.

You quickly got up going over to him and hugging him. Roman hugged you the best he could. While the guards gave you deadly glares, which you annoyed.

“Five minutes top.” One of the guards grumbled as they walked to the door. Still keeping a watchful eye on Roman and you.

You pulled away. Looking deeply into Romans eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here y/n.” Roman spoke, pulling away from your touch. Making your heart shutter. You recomposed yourself, going to sit down on the chair in front of him. Roman sat down on the chair.

“I had to come, what Seth did to you was uncalled for he set it up, he set you up.” You spoke. Tears pricking your eyes. Roman’s jaw clenched at the mention of set up. He felt betrayed by Seth. Clenching his hands into fists.

“He will get what’s coming for him.” Roman growled lowly.

Roman felt his anger slowly fade away as he felt your hands rest on his fists. Caressing his hand. Staring at each other.

“I promise you I will get you out of here.” You promised him. Staring deeply into his eyes. Roman gave you a half-smile. Tears welling in your eyes.

Just as he was about to say something the guard cut him off.

“Times up.” He rudely spoke. Grabbing Roman roughly and dragging him away from you. Causing tears to pour out of your eyes. Another guard walked up to you leading you out of the room and the jail.

You numbly walked over to your car. Unlocking it and getting it. Wiping your tears away. Putting the car in drive and driving off. you stopped in an abandoned grocery store. Pulling the sun visor down and fixing your smudged mascara. You smirked at yourself in the mirror as you heard the sound of a car pulling up beside your car. You put the sun visor up. Opening the door and getting out. You leaned on the door of your car. As the person hopped out of their car.

You smirked at the guy in front of you. Dressed in black. His tight black button long-sleeved shirt. Sleeved rolled up to his elbows. His hair tied back into a ponytail. Looking at you with intense blue eyes. You were more turned on then intimated.

“It’s all going to plan, Drew.” You smirked. Making Drew smirk

“Good.” He responded.

“I told you, you can trust me.” You spoke. Pushing yourself off your car and walking over to him. Drew stared at you. Eyes searching your eyes for any signs of lying.

“You better not betray me.” He growled lowly. As you stopped in front of him.

“I won’t, I’m on your side.” You spoke truthfully. Cupping the side of his face. Bringing your lips closer to his. Your lips hovered above his. Eyes fluttering as you looked at him. Drew felt his heart flutter. His hands rested on your waist. As you closed your eyes. Pressing your lips against his passionately. Drew's eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him. His hands moving up towards the back of your head. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, as he deepened the kiss….

#wwe x reader #roman reigns x reader #drew mcintyre x reader #roman reigns imagine #drew mcintyre imagine