#magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Godless

(not my gif!)

18+, CM Punk x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of our Own!]

Word count: 1,091

Tags: Referenced alcoholism, Religious imagery/symbolism, blow jobs, come swallowing

Summary:

This was the blessing you worked for. This was the blessing you deserved. To worship at the feet of CM Punk.

Author's note: Inspired by this wonderful fancam & Godless by Banks.

…And so you worshiped at the feet of CM Punk. 

It was a downward spiral and you circled the drain before you’d even known it. Oh, to trade one addiction for another… you hoped God could forgive you. 

The thought brewed in your mind. Dark storm clouds filled your head heavily with an impending sense of horror. When you felt the gentle caress of Punk’s fingertips across your cheekbones, the clouds broke. Tears flooded your eyes and began to roll down your cheeks and over his fingers. 

“Don’t you feel better? Don’t you feel clean? ” Punk whispered. His voice echoed around you like a haunting. You would’ve liked to say that there was no semblance of wickedness in his eyes, but why play God for a fool?

“Yes… but…”

Pain radiated through your nerves. Every muscle in your head twisted and stretched with exhaustion. You’d do anything for another sip of liquor. You’d do anything for Punk’s admiration. 

“But what?”

“For how long will this go on?”

His hand came to rest on the back of your head. It scared you how much you needed his touch. It calmed you down almost immediately. Now you knew it was okay to relax. Your body bit back at your now rested weight pushing down on your knees. Let them get scraped.  

“What if I told you I could make it all more bearable?”

The fluorescent lighting seemed to brighten behind his head, an aura of yellow-white glistening through strands of dark hair. If you reached out to touch him would he really be there? Was he not a trick of your mind, an illusion to sink you further into despair?

“I’ll do anything.”

“Anything… anything. Close your eyes for me.”

You squeezed your lids shut. The darkness behind them was well needed. The light from Punk was getting to be overwhelming. You wondered just what he could do for you to make all the pain go away. 

“Will you bless me?”

Punk paused at your words. He didn’t expect the desperation in your voice. If anything, it only spurred him on. Made him more comfortable with what he wanted to do. 

“Yes.”

Things were all a blur. There was no point in thinking about the circumstances that led you to this point. The only thing that was worth focusing on was how to please. And to please was to pray. There was more than one way to pray, not only through the act of speaking. Your mouth opened as if to sing a hymn and slowly became filled with him. 

It was a slow affair. There was no need to make the act more obscene than it already was. Punk knew what this was. It was more about the means to the end, the journey of it all. To see you so pliable below him was more pleasurable than the act itself he realized. A contented sigh escaped from his lips. The warmth of your mouth was slightly overbearing. 

“I look down at you now and see a saint. My saint.”

The bobbing of your head came to an abrupt stop to look up at him with a red rimmed wet sparkle in your eye. A saint. You couldn’t believe it. Yes, this made all of your former suffering worth it. Doing anything for this man, this— 

Prophet?

When he pushed deeper down into your throat, you thought that was it. You’d reached your end. Breathing was still possible but wasn’t even a priority in your lust soaked brain. You wondered why a sinful act made you feel so holy. Perhaps it was due to the sounds Punk made above you. Deep breaths and strained moans healed your tainted spirit. You were on your way to true salvation. 

The thrusts of his hips began to pick up pace. He was ready to give you what you needed. Out of all his followers, you were his favorite. You were the one who had put in the most effort and the one who’d suffered the greatest. You’d walked the straight and narrow path to a clean life. Now it was time to show you just how proud he was of you. 

“You’re perfect. I’ve always believed in you.”

All of his words had sent you careening towards the edge too. You were sure that if you reached down to pleasure yourself you’d be reprimanded and punished, and there would be nothing worse than that. Restraint was difficult but much better than the alternative. Your mind conjured images of reaching down to touch yourself and show Punk just how much you respected him. All you wanted to do was chant his name, over and over in the throes of ecstasy. Maybe one day after you continued to prove yourself. 

“Here it comes—“

Warm fluid filled your mouth in a rush. It was bitter tasting but no more bitter than any liquor you’d ever consumed. Even though you’d been down on your knees for what felt like hours, the peak was reached so soon. Punk’s nails dug into your scalp as he pushed your head to the base of himself. He knew he was choking you. It took him a few seconds to actually care. He slowly dragged himself out of your mouth, like he was in pain to leave. The saintliness you emitted had faded from his vision. You were once again just you. In that moment, just you was good enough.

The deep breath you took made you feel alive like you’d never felt before. It was amazing— your muscles no longer ached. Your memory must have played a trick on you… you weren’t even sure if you were truly feeling real pain before he entered you.

That very special light glowed behind Punk again when he held his hand out to help you raise off of your knees. His lips planted a loving kiss on your forehead, the metal of his lip ring feeling alien on your overheated skin. Your body flooded with affection and desire for him. 

“Let’s go. It’s time to spread the good word.” His smile was easy, yet mocking. Most likely because of how absolutely wrecked you looked with smudged mascara and a wet chin. It was easy to ignore his expression when he kept his grip on your hand, fingers wrapping around yours. You were his best disciple. The people had to see just how devoted you were. 

This was the blessing you worked for. This was the blessing you deserved. To worship at the feet of CM Punk. 

#cm punk #wwe #wwe smut #wwe fanfic #world wrestling entertainment #cm punk x reader #wrestling #wrestling fanfic #wrestling smut #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

I’ll Show You A Winner

(not my gif!)

18+, Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 1,282

Tags: Referenced drug use (cocaine), Referenced alcohol use, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, face slapping, voice kink, scratching, biting, bruises, condomless sex, reader is a total bitch, Shawn is mean

Summary:

Shawn gets mean with you after you make fun of him for losing a match.

Author's note: haha... yeah

“Aww, are you mad Shawn? Gonna cry about another lost match? God, you’re such a pussy sometimes.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said that you’re a crybaby. Mad that the world doesn’t always revolve around you. Guess all that politicking with Vince didn’t work, huh?”

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t wear your prettiest earrings to his office?”

Suddenly Shawn’s weight engulfed you into the plush mattress. Man he could move fast. His face was splotchy red after the last few hours you two spent drinking and snorting cocaine. It was a poor choice for the night since he was already in such a sour mood. As the hours passed by, he got angrier and angrier. The way you were picking at him wasn’t helping either.

“Some man you are.”

Your noses touched and his light smattering of facial hair scratched against you as he stared into your eyes. His breathing was heavy, so heavy you would’ve thought he just got done in the ring. The way his head cocked to the side made a warning sign flash in your head. The bull was being prodded too much. You didn’t have time to get another insult ready when Shawn’s hand clenched hard into your hair. It felt like he was going to tear it out with how strong his grip was. The pain radiated through your head and neck in a strangely delicious way.

“You wanna see what kinda man I am, honey? I’ll show you.”

Shawn’s breathing quickened as he moved his free hand down to unhook his belt. Just as soon as his pants were down enough, he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Your lips moved in a whispered frenzy by his ear, blond locks of his wavy hair shielding the rest of the room from you. “Can you even get it up, cokehead?” Your laugh was mean… and just the slightest bit panicked.

“Keep talkin’. I’ll shut you up soon enough.”

Shawn’s voice lacked the passion it usually had when he was pissed. You knew that when he was yelling and screaming it would pass pretty shortly. He just needed an outlet. When he was truly upset though? His already deep and raspy tone got even lower. It made your panties flood and your eyes widen. You were really in for it now.

With an aggressive push into you, Shawn began to thrust against your walls. You weren’t quite as prepared as usual, so your voice exclaimed out with a squeak. He continued to stare in your eyes with a look that was miles past angry. There was determination flowing through his veins to win. He couldn’t succeed in the ring tonight, that much was true. But he could make you shut up and could definitely make you come.

Your own hand flew up to grasp at his hair with force. Two could play that game. The feeling of you being so close to pulling it out made him go harder inside you. made him feel alive even more so than the coke. His neck strained as he reached down to kiss you roughly with no warning. Your muscles tightened around his length when his teeth bit your bottom lip.

“You like it when I’m rough, don’t you? Such a slut for me.”

Shawn shook his head in disappointment, but you both knew that he was loving this. His accent, that Texan drawl that made you melt, was especially heavy when he spoke. He could be as harsh as he wanted— as long as he kept talking you through it.

Before you could respond back, Shawn released his grip from your hair and instead wrapped his hand around your neck. You gushed below him, wet sounds filling the room when you adjusted your legs to surround his waist. You got a little dazed and lightheaded at the lack of air you were getting. Mirroring him, you decided to choke him back. It was too bad you weren’t strong enough to put as much pressure on his neck as he had on yours, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. The slight squeeze you could give was enough for him to groan loudly above you.

Your vision darkened around the edges. Shawn was pounding you into the mattress while he continued to restrict your airflow. You did your best to grind into every one of his forceful thrusts, your clit shooting bolts of pleasure through you whenever it brushed against him. He smiled at you in that cocky sort of way he liked to whenever he was winning. You got some air back when he moved your head up to angle more at him. He was fucking the bitchy resolve right out of you, tears building at the corners of your eyes at how he stretched you out.

“And look who’s crying now! It’s so pathetic it’s cute.” His cruel voice rumbled and reverberated through your body in hedonistic bliss.

Shawn used his other hand to grab your jaw and hold you in place. He was much stronger than you and your body was beginning to get weak at the impending orgasm threatening to wrack through you. Those soft blue eyes of his were crazed when he stuck his tongue out. You immediately stuck yours out too to swirl around his lewdly, hoping he’d push you into another kiss. Despite everything he’d been doing to you, this felt the most inappropriate.

That was until he slapped you.

It wasn’t very hard at all. It was more of a surprise than anything. Shawn immediately caressed the stinging skin of your cheek, then rubbed the pad of his thumb against your bruised bottom lip. With little force he pushed his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on. You did so gratefully with a dumb sort of expression on your face.

A mocking sigh breathed from his lips. “You disgust me.”

Stars began to overtake your vision before your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands pawed at his back in desperation. The deep scratches you were leaving weren’t your problem. He could just keep his shirt on the next time he had to be on TV. With every claw mark up the expanse of his well toned back Shawn’s movements stuttered even more. The way you looked at him right before you came, so innocent and doe eyed, sent him right past the edge and over the moon. Shawn filled you with his come until his entire body fell limp above you. It took the last little bit of energy he had to unwrap your legs from around him and roll over to the other side of the bed.

Both of you laid on your backs and breathed heavily into the open air. You felt Shawn shift beside you to stare at your heaving chest. Your cheek didn’t look too bad, but your bottom lip was puffy and your neck was bruised. Your hair was a bird’s nest above you from the pulling. Shawn wasn’t in great shape either. The scratches on his back actually hurt down now that the adrenaline was fading. The alcohol and coke made his face bloated and a headache form at his temples. He was pretty sure that strands of his already thinning hair were pulled out from the way you grabbed at him. Your nails dug marks into the side of his neck that were hard to look at.

In the end, none of that mattered. He won.

“Fuck, Shawn. That was amazing.” Your voice was laced with awe.

“Of course it was, honey.”

“That’s cause you’re the best.” You dragged yourself over to lay against his chest, drowsiness pulling you down into a deep sleep.

“Damn straight.”

#shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels #wrestling #wwe imagines #wwe smut #wrestling fanfic #wwe fanfic #90s wwf #wwe shawn michaels #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Worthy of Her

(not my gif!)

18+, Jeff Hardy x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: ~3.2k

Tags: flirting, oral sex (female receiving), condomless sex, cheating (reader is cheating on her boyfriend w/ Jeff), slight angst, reader’s boyfriend is an asshole lmao

Summary: 

Jeff Hardy finally makes his move on you after seeing how badly your boyfriend treats you.

"No, I'm through with this back and forth shit you keep putting me through! I'd rather you leave instead of cheating on me all the damn time."

Your flip phone felt hot against your ear. Or maybe it was your ear that felt hot against your phone? Your mind buzzed with irrelevant thoughts. Anything popped into your mind to keep you distracted from your boyfriend jabbering away on the other end. He was being mean again and starting to yell. His voice sounded tinny over the little speaker and made you have to pull the phone away from your ear.

"Call me back when you wanna act like an adult!" You slammed your phone shut and clomped away from the dark corner you hid yourself in for the call. Your boyfriend was a referee when he bothered showing up for work. It was incredibly embarrassing to have him no-show. Your ambition bothered him enough to make him put his own job at risk for you to look bad. Tonight he didn't show again and Vince McMahon decided to blame you. He screamed in your face for a few minutes before leaving you with hot tears flooding your eyes.

You hated crying in public.

Deep down within you, you knew it wasn't a sign of weakness to cry in front of others. If anything, it could be strong. Letting your feelings go when they couldn't be held in any longer, damn the consequences or reactions was a very powerful act… for everyone else. For yourself? It made you a crybaby. A weakling. A little kid. Those thoughts playing on a loop in your head certainly didn't help your emotional state.

Unrolling the thin toilet paper from the arena's bathroom stall, you delicately patted your tears away from your face. The last thing you wanted to do at that moment was look at yourself in the mirror, but you knew your heavy eye makeup would be smudged. Luckily you'd already done your job as valet for the night so the fans didn't have to see you with raccoon eyes and a streaky foundation face. It was almost worse to have the other wrestlers see you like this instead. At least with the fans you could pretend.

The deep breath that filled your lungs and poofed out of your body with relief grounded you much more than you expected. No more tears. You had to push your personal life to the side for the time being. You faced the sink's mirror and carefully tried to salvage what was left of your makeup. It was a hatchet job you had to admit but nothing a little eyeliner and powder couldn't fix. The thin heels of your strappy sandals click-clacked on the tile floor, each sound filling you with confidence. Both hands pushed the bathroom door open with more pizzazz than necessary. Fuck it! Fake it 'til you make it.

"Quite an exit, darlin'. Or an entrance, maybe?"

Your hand shot up to your chest as you gasped.

"Jesus, Jeff! You scared the shit out of me."

Jeff Hardy was standing by the door of the bathrooms looking very relaxed. He'd been trying his best to not to hover around you since you'd debuted earlier in the year. It was getting harder and harder to stay away though. The one thing that always drove him crazy about you was the smell of your perfume. It was some kind of fancy, expensive scent that seemed like it was created just for you. It wafted in the air whenever you walked by. With you standing so close to him now, chest heaving and eye makeup a mess, the scent was even stronger.

"Sorry, my bad." He chuckled as you began to calm down. You figured if anyone had to see you in this state at least it was Jeff. The past few months you two had flirted with each other casually. A quick wave here and there or a playfully amorous compliment were shared between you two. It never went any further because of your relationship with your boyfriend. Jeff had met him and didn't have too high of an opinion of the man. He ran around acting like a big shot all the time. He tried to make himself the star of the matches. Sometimes Jeff wondered why he hadn't been fired yet. After hearing the tail end of your heated phone call with him it all made sense. You wouldn't let him get fired. No matter how much of a jerk this guy was, you cared about him and didn't want to be the reason he got let go.

Your glossy lips fixed themselves into a pout for a split second. They settled into a slight frown as the sudden burst of energy you had went pop . You didn't have to be "on" with Jeff. As the weeks passed you came to appreciate that about him. His light eyes searched your face and watched the little changes in your expression. You seemed to want to speak up.

"I must look crazy, huh?" You laughed at yourself in a self-defeating kind of way.

"Even if you did, I wouldn't tell you." Jeff moved closer to you. There was a great comfort in that closeness you two shared. It was nice to revel in it after such an upsetting conversation. "What's goin' on?"

"It's just my boyfriend. He's so stupid sometimes! He's got a great job here. A lot of people would kill to do what he does, you know? And what does he do instead of showing up like he's supposed to? He--" You didn't want to admit the last part aloud. He cheats on me. It made you feel like a failure even though it wasn't your fault. You shook your head, not able to complete the sentence. It hung in the air awkwardly.

"I hope you don't mind me sayin' this… but that man of yours is an asshole." Jeff's strong southern accent was always so endearing to you. You felt a little guilty getting turned on by it as often as you did. It was hard not to though, the sweet and occasionally sexually-charged words surrounded in his voice worming into your brain.

Your laugh twinkled around you and your eyes lit up at Jeff, happy to have been distracted by his presence. Without thinking you leaned into him to kiss his cheek, strands of his purple hair brushing by you. Tingles spread through your entire body at the contact. Jeff got overwhelmed at your gloss smudging against his cheek, the scent of your perfume wrapping around him, and your chest rubbing just the slightest against his. It took a lot of restraint to not pull you away into the nearest empty room and put his face between your thighs. Your boyfriend was now not just a nuisance but also an obstacle.

The kiss, as chaste as it was, turned your mood completely around. You broke away from Jeff and gasped.

"What do I have to do to get you to leave him?"

"Jeff--"

"I'm serious. I'll do anything."

"That's sweet of you. Really, it is. There's nothing you can do though."

"Nothin' at all?" Jeff's fingers began to play with the bottom edge of your shirt, the pads gently touching your skin. He reached under the fabric to caress your lower back. The fabric of his mesh shirt scratched a bit at you. His lips played against your neck, light kisses making your head swirl. His body was so warm, so warm that you thought you'd pass out right there.

You knew you needed to speak up and stop this. It wasn't right! You know how you felt when you caught your boyfriend in bed with other women. The way your heart dropped out of your chest every time made you feel guilty about the way Jeff touched you now. But did your boyfriend ever stop to consider your feelings? Did he ever stand up for you? Everything you did for him and he never even said thank you. A soft moan shook you from your thoughts.

"What the fuck is this?"

Your boyfriend seemed to appear from the ether. He stumbled in with his referee uniform wrinkled and a wild look in his eyes. Jeff pulled away from your neck with an excruciating amount of patience. Just as soon as he had you where he wanted you this guy showed up. You got wet at the look of anger on his face. Nervous too, hoping and praying this wouldn't turn into a brawl.

"What does it look like?"

"Jeff!" You breathed, surprised.

"I've been so sick of you, dude. You've been trying to fuck her for a while now and you finally caught her."

"Don't you have somethin' better to do like skipping out on work and fucking ring rats?"

Oh God, you thought. Alarm bells sounded off in your head. As nice as it was to be defended like this you didn't want to cause trouble.

Your boyfriend's wild gaze moved to you. His sweaty face moved into yours with shifty eyes assessing you deeply. With the way he was breathing you thought he was on the verge of a heart attack.

"Now you're telling all of our business. To him." His rough grip on your arm shocked you.

Just as soon as you began to worry about how close he was, his grip was released from you abruptly. A loud slam against the wall knocked the wind out of the sweaty man. Your eyes widened at the sight of him slumped against the floor. Jeff rammed him into the wall faster than you could blink.

"Don't you ever grab her like that again." Jeff growled into your boyfriend's face. He roughly pushed the man over onto his side.

You were at a loss for words. Your eyelids blinked continuously, tears once again welling up in you. This time though it wasn't from anger or sadness. Jeff's physical display of defense for you made you happier than you imagined. Your boyfriend looked pathetic lying on the floor. It finally began to click that he was a weak excuse of a man. Jeff had been around to support you like your boyfriend should have been doing this whole time. Jeff was more caring than your boyfriend had ever been and the two of you barely knew each other. Jeff's face contorted at the sight of your tears. He knew he shouldn't have handled your boyfriend like that.

"Honey, I'm sorry for that. I hope you're not too upset with me. I can call the doctor around for him." Jeff waved away the man on the floor.

"Upset?" Your bewilderment at yourself was rising. How could you be upset? "Jeff… I'm in awe. You did that for me."

"You deserve it. He doesn't know what a prize he's got." No longer angry, Jeff stared at you with an undeniable amount of lust in his eyes.

"Stay with me tonight." You returned his look. "I need you to stay with me tonight."

Jeff nodded his head. A production assistant broke the moment up by tapping him on the shoulder, not sparing more than a second at the slumped man on the floor.

"You're on in five, Jeff."

He let himself get pulled away from you, turning his head behind him to catch another long look at you.

---

The ride up in the hotel elevator was dead silent. The sexual charge between you and Jeff was palpable. The two of you stood side by side with each other, fingers almost touching more than once. Your emotions came and went in waves. Bouncing between guilt, anger, happiness, being horny, embarrassment was getting to be a little much. Jeff on the other hand had one thing on his mind. His eyes roamed along your body as you fidgeted around. The ding of the elevator made you rush forward and leave him behind. You so anxiously wanted to unlock your room door and let him have his way with you.

You frantically unlocked the door. Jeff's erection pressed into your backside impatiently. Your brain whited out at the feeling of it. It had been a long time since a man had displayed such powerful feelings towards you that you had forgotten what it was like. To be wanted so strongly could be scary.

The door clicked open. The both of you almost fell on the floor with the way you rushed in. Frantic hands roamed all over your body. For Jeff, feeling every inch of you was his dream come true. You pushed him off of you with little force.

"Close your eyes."

Jeff didn't hesitate, lids shutting closed in an instant. Him listening to you so easily turned you on even further. There were no big arguments with him. You stripped out of what little clothing you wore. The thin fabric of your shirt hit the floor first and was followed up by your tight shorts and lace bra. You left on your lacy underwear as a surprise for him.

"Open 'em."

Jeff's eyes shot open and stayed wide at the sight of you. You were gorgeous. He knew this already of course, but seeing you in all of your glory in front of him reaffirmed it. He approached you slowly. There was a deliberate attempt at trying to restrain himself. You appreciated that. A part of you wanted to scream at him that it was okay, it was okay if he just ripped your panties off and took you right there. Instead though you took advantage of having a man be so patient with you.

Jeff's arms wrapped around your waist. He pushed you down onto the bed gently to lay his head against your stomach. For a second he rested there to take you all in. The motions of your breathing both calmed him down and made him harder. His face being so close against you again was out of this world. He hadn't even done anything to you yet and you were on the verge of coming.

Your fingers tangled into his brightly dyed hair. The way he styled himself was so cool to you. The first time you ever spoke to him was to compliment his facial hair, some intricately patterned affair that was different whenever you saw him. He played it cool at your words. After you had disappeared from him though, he wore his brother down singing your praises. You'd finally talked to him and the first thing you'd said was a compliment. From that moment on he decided that he'd get you one day.

While you had gotten lost in your mind Jeff had pulled your panties down from you. You were open to him now. Your legs spread apart easily at his touch and your heart pumped a million miles a minute the closer his face moved into you. Those light eyes looked up at you the entire time his tongue began to move around you. Just with the simple movements of his tongue slowly licking up your outer lips you moaned more loudly than you had in years. Man, were you deprived. Humming noises escaped your mouth as he kissed your inner thighs before moving to your clit. Your fingers clenched more tightly than you expected at the roots of his hair as his tongue swirled anxiously around you. Your eyes shot around your head looking for a spot to rest your vision on the ceiling above you. They finally tired themselves out and your lids shut.

A deep pressure began to build below your stomach. It had been a long time since you'd felt it. Being fully engulfed between you, the scent and wetness of you taking over every sense of him made Jeff dig his nails into your hips and push your body further into his face. Your own fingers clenched the covers beneath you. Jeff's hand released itself from your hips and grabbed at one of your hands. The two of you interlocked fingers as he took you through one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever felt. Stars danced at the edge of your vision. Your voice called his name out over and over.

"Oh my God," You couldn't stop repeating yourself. Those three words just couldn't help but to keep falling out of you. Jeff pushed his pants off and threw his shirt on the floor. He was so handsome in the throes of lust. You breathed deeply at the feeling of him pressing his body weight against you. You returned his earlier favor of his lips against your neck by pressing yours against his. There was an all encompassing hunger that took you over now and it made you want to mark him up. You wanted everyone to know that you were with him. He could sense this feeling from you and let you leave a deep hickey on his neck. You nipped a bit at him when he entered you with a slow thrust. As badly as he wanted to push into you with his full length, he paced himself. The two of you had the whole night.

"Oh darlin'," He whispered in your ear. "I've been waitin' for you."

You were filled to the hilt. Something primal was gathering up in you. You wanted to scream at feeling this good. It wasn't fair that this is what you had been missing out on. You kept your eyes shut for fear of overstimulation. The feeling of your walls being massaged so perfectly was incredible. You whimpered with every thrust and the slow pace of him. You knew his eyes were staring a hole through your head but you just couldn't bring yourself to open them.

"Open your eyes for me. Please," His words came out so sweet that you instantly focused on him. It was hard to deny him. There were no regrets at opening them up. He began to move at a quicker pace from seeing you locked on to him. Your eyes shut again for a moment at the sensation. Jeff was bringing you to your peak again.

His own orgasm was approaching him too. The feel of your body against his, the way you responded to him, the inevitably dark hickey you left on him were getting him close. You were finally his and he was finally yours. The noises the two of you made were obscene. Your arms wrapped around his back and pressed him as close to you. Being pressed so deeply into the bed felt like floating on cloud nine.

As soon as it became too much to bear, you snapped. A crashing wave of pleasure overtook you. Your breathing was labored as every muscle in your body tightened and released. The stars from earlier now fully prickled your vision. The only thing you saw above you were Jeff's own eyes among the stars. Jeff's released inside of you as soon as you came, his chest heaving against you. Something inside you was elated that he didn't pull out. He let himself cover your insides fully.

Together you began to breathe in sync. Jeff collapsed on top of you and then rolled over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. You were heaven on earth for him. Your hand rested on his chest to feel his heartbeat. It was beginning to slow down. His eyelids were droopy.

"I can--" Jeff yawned. "Stay here? Tonight?"

"Yes," you whispered. "Stay with me."

#jeff hardy x reader #jeff hardy #jeff hardy fanfic #jeff hardy smut #wrestling fic #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wwe jeff hardy #wwe imagine #wrestling #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

One of Those Nights

(not my gif!)

18+, Lalo Salamanca x Fem!Reader one shot smut

[Also available on Archive of our Own!] 

Word count: ~3.6k

Tags: Dirty talk, drunk sex, choking, rough sex, older man/younger woman, condomless sex, semi-public sex

Summary:

How does a fun night out with your friends suddenly turn into hooking up with Lalo Salamanca behind the club?

Albuquerque was one of the most boring places you'd had the misfortune of visiting on your cross country trip. Chasing around your friends on their quest to visit every state in the country seemed like a good idea at first. The prospect of the bright lights in New York, sandy beaches in Miami, and lush forests of Seattle were very enticing. As your travels began though, you realized that the U.S. had an unfortunate amount of painfully boring locales within itself. For every fun-soaked big city was a rinky-dink place with little to offer besides a mediocre local history and relatively decent restaurant.

You could concede that New Mexico had its share of gorgeous deserts. The sunsets were to die for, beautiful mishmashed paintings of lavender, pink, and orange. The first one you saw took your breath away, which happened to elicit laughter from your friends. Growing up in a concrete jungle for most of your 23 years didn't give you the opportunity to see the beauty of nature so often. Despite those sunsets, the rest of the state was quickly making its way to the top of your "Least favorite places (so far)" mental list. Oh well, at least your friends were having fun. Even in the locations that had little to do, they managed to find a party.

That night they decided to hit up a local club. The seedy uncurrent of ABQ revealed themselves quickly to the group of partygoers when your down-for-anything best friend Tawny discovered how easy it was to acquire drugs. Tawny and the other three girls in the group were shocked about the accessibility of meth and cocaine, but you weren't in the slightest. What else was there to do besides get high? You weren't much of a smoker or snorter. Alcohol was your enhancement of choice. The meth your friends showed you was a light blue color while the cocaine had a pearlescence to it. From the excitement in their voices it seemed like they got a lot of bang for their buck. If the alcohol hit you right, you considered taking a bump of the coke later on in the night.

Tawny grabbed your hand as you all walked into the club. Her shiny and strappy dress was forest green. It hugged at her cleavage, pressing lines into the soft flesh. She was a different person when she went out, transforming from the laid-back sporty tomboy of the day into queen of the night. She looked at you with a feverish excitement. The pupils in her eyes were saucer-big. It always freaked you out to see the change in people's eyes when they were high. You squirmed a little, causing Tawny to let go of your hand and run to the other two girls. They gestured to you to come to them on the dance floor. You waved at them with a soft smile on your face and hurried off to the bar so you could have some fun too.

Squeezing through the people yelling orders at the black-clad bartender, you managed to order a screwdriver. The sugar and liquor would get your night started soon enough. Especially on a relatively empty stomach. You hadn't eaten since much earlier in the day, preparing for the night ahead of you. You wanted the vodka to hit you hard , hard enough to be able to blame it for any bad choices you might make that night. Soon enough the cold, sweating glass with an orange slice was placed before you. The pink and purple lights of the club also flashed through the slightly hazed glass of the bar's surface. Your napkin stuck the bottom of the glass and the large gold bangle on your right wrist clinked against it while you gulped it down in seconds. The bartender returned from the other end of the bar, shaking his head playfully as you motioned for another round. 

"Hey, I'd like to keep a tab open for tonight!" You yelled over the bass of the music. The bartender leaned into you and you repeated yourself a little more loudly. 

"Don't worry about it, someone's covering your drinks for the night."

Already feeling buzzy, you shifted your body around to look for your mysterious benefactor. Too many people surrounded the area and they all looked preoccupied with their own parties. "Who is it?"

He laughed and shook his head again. "Sorry babe, can't tell you. You and your friends enjoy yourselves tonight." Two more drinks were placed before you, this time filled with a cloudy light yellowish liquid. You took one into each hand and downed them in a flash, the burn almost making you choke. Tequila! With a little lime juice. It was your least favorite spirit. Hey, it's free though. Who am I to turn down a drink? You thought to yourself. Within a few minutes you managed to shimmy back on the dance floor with your friends. You all threw your hands up in the air when the beat dropped in a pulsing fast-paced R&B song. The girls moved all around each other, playfully dancing on each other while throwing their heads back. You joined in on the fun, feeling the warmth in your belly that signified that you were the perfect level of drunk. The blur in your vision made the lights drag around you and the dizziness in your high heels added to the absolute blast you were having. Maybe ABQ wasn't so bad after all.

The cokehead amongst you all, Melissa, prepared a bump on the back of her hand. You and her stopped dancing for just a second while she poured the powder. She held it out to you and you sniffed, feeling a sense of clearheadedness cut through the daze of alcohol. Melissa took a snort too and smiled wildly. You all began to separate out from each other either to talk to other groups of girls or dance with a guy. You felt a man press himself against your ass, his hands tightly gripping your hips. From the bulge in his pants there wasn't much to grind against. Despite his lack of action downstairs, you returned the press and moved against him to the rhythm. Your head dipped down and rose back up, flipping your long dark hair behind you and into his face. He laughed into your ear. 

The DJ was on a roll, hit after hit mixing into each other with perfect timing. The man had turned you around several times throughout each song. You faced him a few times and weren't impressed with what you saw. He seemed to be average in every way, from appearance to height to size. If you were any less drunk or not on coke, you'd have pushed him away to find a new partner. Tonight you didn't feel like being picky though. He was adequate and that was good enough to work your energy out with. Dancing in the club always made you feel like a sex goddess. All eyes in the club certainly weren't on you but you felt at least one pair from just off the dance floor.

The deep brown eyes of an older man were staring a hole into you. He had a small and jovial smile on his face, watching you like you were performing on stage for him. His hands moved up and down his legs while he sat at a table just off to the side of the floor. You made eye contact with him and suddenly forgot about the man dancing behind you. A smirk formed on your own face while your dance partner moved his hands up your hips, past your stomach, and onto your breasts. His lips moved to your neck, planting kisses along the smooth expanse of skin. Sure it felt good. It was nothing compared to the feeling the mystery man's stare gave you. Your panties, a barely there piece of white lace, began to flood. Did you like being watched?

You decide that you don't like it, you love it. The older man cocked his head to the side just slightly, the smile still playing on his face. Even from the distance away from each other you can feel the sinister yet sexual energy emanating from his person. He looked like he could be mean when he wasn't having so much fun. Your body was on fire now. The bottom of the short, sheer lavender dress you wore rode up every time you grinded into your partner's crotch. For a quick second, with the motion of you and the movement of your partner's hands, it rode up so far part of your panties were exposed. When you bent over to really push into him, the mystery man got a direct view of your full tits. His hand began to move over his cock, rubbing over the fabric of his pants. The playful expression was gone now and replaced by a look of pure and unadulterated lust. 

With a swift motion he pushed himself up from his table and strode towards you. His walk was incredibly confident, as was his general demeanor. A large golden watch surrounded his left wrist with a tattoo on his forearm just above it. An exquisitely patterned burgundy shirt was with a few buttons open at the top. If he told you he owned the club you wouldn't be surprised in the least. Your partner looked up from your neck to get ready to claim you as his own, when he almost immediately backed away from you when he met the stranger's eyes. The sudden air behind you was a relief since your own body was so hot.

"Liking what you see?" You ask him, hoping you aren't slurring your words too badly. The cocaine has given you an extra boost of confidence. 

"I am." Was his smile mocking, or did he find your liquor soaked attitude cute? "You seem to be having a lot of fun."

"Even more when I saw you looking at me."

A purr escaped from the man. You shivered at the sound, feeling like prey under his gaze. You were playing right into his hand. "Have you been enjoying your drinks?"

"Very much so. Are you the one who bought me the tequila?"

His smile widened. "That was me. I'm Lalo, Lalo Salamanca.

His name was smooth on your ears. You told him yours and began to repeat his, liking the sound of it on your lips. He was becoming more intoxicating than the drugs were. You giggled the last time you said it, your clit twitching as he grabbed your arm roughly to sit you down at a stool at the end of the bar. The bartender from earlier stopped what he was doing and rushed over to the two of you, taking an order from Lalo in Spanish. You didn't know any besides a few conversational words.

The same cloudy yellow drink handed to you from before was once again placed in your hand, twice as much as before. Looking at it woozily, you thought twice while raising it up to your lips. You began to take a sip, the burning not quite as bad as it was the first time. Moving too slowly for his liking, Lalo tipped your glass the smallest bit. Some of the tequila dribbled off your lips and ran down your neck. The thin stripe of liquid made Lalo's eyes drag down to your heaving, sweat sheened chest. He looked hungry. 

"I'm not too old for you, am I?" Lalo was all jokes. 

"Not at all. I like older guys," You were definitely slurring now. "Not that you're old! Just older."

He laughed. You couldn't tell if it was condescending or if he was genuinely amused by you. "You're cute, mamita. I like the way you were dancing. Was that all for me?" 

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. Flashing your panties to a grown man in a club just because you'll never see him again?  

You crossed one leg over the other, feeling off balance on the tiny stool. You felt the blood rush to your clit, an undeniable sense of pleasure with every pulse of your heartbeat. Watching him finish his drink off and order another was a simple gesture that sent you wild. Something about this older man watching you dance provocatively on another man got you hotter than you'd ever been. The grip he gave your arm to lead you hurt, hurt more than you expected. That turned you on too. The thought of his large hands caressing your body, roughly moving you into any position he wanted, or around your neck made your cheeks get warm. Lost in your thoughts, he waved his hand in front of your face.

"You doing okay?" There was a little concern in  his voice. He mostly sounded like he had the hint of a joke you weren't in on. He liked how undone you looked, how open you were to him.

"I'm-- I'm good. Great, actually." Lalo stood beside you, looking down into your eyes. He could sense how wet you were, how much you wanted him inside you. That sinister look returned to him. You so badly wanted him to make you his plaything. Reaching your hand out to him, you curled a finger into his belt loop. Your well manicured hand began to rub over his dick, happy to find out he was much, much bigger than your dance partner. His own hand moved under your dress, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the seat of your panties.  

Lalo said something in Spanish again while pulling you off the stool of the bar. It sounded almost like was making fun of the situation, probably saying something disparaging about your slut behavior. That tight grip on your arm returned as he dragged you behind him. Soon enough you two were outside of the club, under the dim blinking lights of the back entrance. Your back was pressed against the rough concrete of the building. It scraped against your skin and provided some kind of relief from the tingles of pleasure rippling through you. Lalo took a deep breath of the warm winds blowing past to collect himself. His hand moved through your hair.

"So pretty, mamita. Such a pretty girl…" His cooing soothed you, made you feel like he was going to take care of you.

All you could manage was a small nod. His lips pressed to your forehead in a gentle kiss. It surprised you. The anticipation and slight dread of something much rougher coming along suddenly built in the deepest pit of your stomach. Would he get too rough? Was there anything too rough for you at this moment?

"I bet your pussy is pretty too," Lalo whispered. His hands hiked your dress up in a lightning fast motion. You were completely pressed against the wall now, the texture of the building pressing unbearably. "White lace butterfly panties? How sweet," The cruel laugh that came from Lalo's lips made you scared.

His lips were now against your neck, sucking on the skin there. He ripped them off and let them fall to the ground. You were exposed to the world now, no choice but to let him continue. Lalo's fingers moved up your thighs to your sopping wet entrance, exploring the slickness of your lips. Your hips bucked against him, the sensation overwhelming you. His teeth nipped at your neck as he sucked harder. It hurt, a lot, but you were afraid that if you told him to stop, he'd take his finger off your clit too. You wanted to prove that you could handle him. The moans that squeaked from you spurred him on.

Lalo placed even more pressure on your swollen clit. He moved at a punishing pace, whispering rapid Spanish in your ear. The hickey he left on your neck would show for days after.

Inserting two fingers inside you with an abruptness, your moans turned into a breathy gasp. His free hand came down on your neck to apply pressure. It felt so good, the lack of air freaking you out in the best way. You could barely breathe as he stared into your eyes while pumping his fingers into your g-spot. Your neck angled up to look at him, feeling dizzy at the air being cut off. A dumb and dazed look formed on your face at the way he glared into you, his look a mixture of care and disgust and pleasure. You began to drool while your core clenched around his fingers. Lalo's tongue stuck out as he moved you by your neck up to him, your own tongue swirling around his before he pushed you into a kiss. 

"I'm gonna-- gonna come, Lalo," You whispered hoarsely.

"No you aren't."

Your moan was loud as he pressed one last time on your neck, cutting the air off completely. You thought you might pass out. His smile was mean. He knew exactly how much you liked the control he had on your pleasure.

"Don't be a selfish girl. Are you always such a whore after a few drinks?" Lalo's voice was sickeningly sweet as he choked you hard. His cock hurt with how hard he was. He could tell that you were relatively innocent in day to day life when you weren't feeling over-confident from alcohol. The whiplash of his tone compared to his words sent you reeling.

Your nod was barely visible as he let go of your neck. The air had never tasted so good. Those bruises from his fingers would be even harder to hide than the hickey. 

Suddenly, your legs were in the air by his sides. While you recovered he placed his hands on your bare ass and hoisted you up around his waist. You could feel the marks his fingernails were leaving in the soft flesh of your skin and you bit down on your bottom lip. Lalo shushed you when you whined about not being able to see his cock. Your reach for it was futile as it was just inches from your grip.

"You can see it when I'm done with you." The hot flesh of his member jutted inside you. The scream that was waiting to leave your lungs finally echoed through the empty backlot of the club. God, he was huge. Even with how wet you were it still hurt when he impaled you with his cock. Lalo's grip on your waist pushed you down as far as you could take him in you. The pain made you wiggle around on him. He waited for a few seconds before beginning to thrust inside you with reckless abandon. With a panic, you realize that he didn't put on a condom. The little voice in the back of your brain piped in to through rational thought. You don't really care. You want him to come inside you. You want him to fill you up with his seed, forget the consequences. You feel like a ragdoll with every slap of his skin against yours.

Little gasping moans come out with each thrust. He's smiling again, that same mischievously evil smile that makes your eyes roll back in your head. Your fingers were scratching at the wall but moved up to push flat against his strong chest. His lips returned to the other, unbruised side of your neck. Lalo didn't even bother to start off easy. He immediately sucked on the skin hard, latching on like he'd never go. Your mind was a blank slate of nothingness, only thinking about his come painting your insides. Although he was more confident than the average man, the ego boost of this girl half his age wanting him to fill her up was invigorating. 

"Lalo, Lalo, Lalo," You chanted. "Laaaa-loooo." Your voice raised a pitch at the quickening pace of his cock inside you. You were close to coming again, wetness gushing onto your legs and his pants. His breath was so warm against your ear. "Please let me come, please," you begged him. He liked how needy you sounded for him. 

His own breath began to become ragged. The moment was soon arriving. He purred again and pressed his body all the way into you, your back now bleeding slightly from the texture. That was enough to make your legs start shaking. You began to babble incoherently as he filled you with his come. Your walls spasmed around him while you panted heavily, stars filling your eyes. The orgasm made you shake even harder and he chuckled at your movements. Your arms flew around his neck and your lips crashed into his, frantically kissing him. Lalo stayed inside you until he softened. He pulled his dick out in the most painfully slow motion you could imagine. Even while partially soft the glisten of his come and your slickness on the thick shaft was beautiful. 

Your thighs were wet with the mixture of juices. The oozing of his come out of you felt better than any drug or drink. The alcohol was now making you feel dizzy more than anything. Your back was scratched up, your neck bruised, your panties gone. You looked at him with big eyes. Your youthful look combined with the obscenity of your raised up dress and slippery thighs was beginning to make him hard again.

"'Lalo, Lalo, Lalo,'" he playfully mocked your coital whining. "You're a lot of fun. Do you usually let strange older men come inside you?" Deep within him, he hoped the answer was no. A strange relief consumed him when you shook your head.

"You're the only one." You were embarrassed and tired now. The coke comedown was wearing you out and the liquor was starting to make your stomach hurt. Even with your aching body you wanted him inside you again. 

"We're gonna do this again tomorrow tonight, okay?" He planted that same gentle kiss on your forehead. 

How were you gonna tell your friends you wanted to stay in Albuquerque for just a couple more days?

#bcs #better call saul #bcs fanfic #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca x reader #bcs smut #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Bubbly

(not my gif!)

Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 964

Tags: Romantic gestures, champagne, the heart shaped hot tub!, Loverboy Shawn

Summary:

Prompt: Bubbly | A romantic night with you and Shawn.

Author’s note: Prompt from @fluffyfebruary​! I’ll be posting various stories using their prompts throughout the month.

Shawn sure enjoyed playing up that loverboy persona of his.

You were awoken that morning with a loud knock on your door. Rushing down the steps to see what the problem was, you flung open the door to be greeted by a gigantic bouquet of blood red roses. Your eyes widened at the delivery boy who struggled under the weight of the beautiful flowers. The note was printed on hefty cardstock with gold foil surrounding the edges. Shawn certainly was sparing no expense on this night of romance.

There won't be any heartbreak at the hotel tonight.

-S

You rolled your eyes playfully at the card. The rest of your day was a blur as you tried to keep focus on the errands around the house. Shawn had decided to call you a couple of times while you took care of your chores in an attempt to distract you. You fell for it after the second call, leaning against the wall to hear his smooth voice tell you how much he missed you. A fuzziness built at the way he called you honey, the word just skirting the edge of lewdness. After the call ended you ignored the constant ringing that followed it up. Shawn loved to play his little games with you.

As the night approached you, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. A car would be coming to drop you off at a hotel on the outskirts of town. You were completely awash in Shawn's all encompassing feelings of passionate love for you, and you for him. Memories of past rendezvous left you in an intoxicating daze while you applied your makeup and chose your outfit. When you heard the car horn beep outside, you looked down at the dress you wore in confusion. In your zoned out state you didn't even realize what you grabbed out of your closet! It was sexier than you were going for, but as you left the house you figured it fit the mood of the night better than whatever your original plan would be.

Your nerves were completely bunched up at the sight of the hotel coming closer and closer. The building was relatively inconspicuous, causing you to become more alert. Shawn never did anything on the small scale and this place felt absolutely miniscule. It was tucked away amongst the beginnings of a forest that seemed to go on for miles. Shawn met you at the door of the lobby dressed in all black, his blond hair waving down his shoulders in contrast. You couldn't help but to run into his arms and squeal at seeing him again. It just wasn't the same seeing him on TV bouncing around into the ring like an overgrown golden retriever puppy. Your friends were getting sick of the way you grabbed them in excitement every time Shawn won a match. He called you like clockwork after each show no matter how it ended. When he won you showered him with compliments, and when he lost you babied him beyond all belief. Sometimes you swore you could hear him pouting over the phone, his bottom lip poking out just the slightest. Now that you were back in his arms, he squeezed you as tight as he could without hurting you.

"Miss me, honey?"

You nodded against his chest as he rested his hand against the back of your neck. "You know I did."

He hummed and began to move his hand up and down your back lovingly. With a deep breath he led you to the shiny gold doors of the elevator. The exterior of the building was very misleading to what was on offer on the inside. The gold and marble patterns covered every free inch of space to the point of making your eyes hurt. Shawn's hands roamed all over your body in the short time it took the elevator to reach the top floor of the hotel. You melted under his restrained touch. The flowers were gorgeous and the hotel was campy fun, but you would've been happy in a rundown old house as long as you were spending time with Shawn.

Entering your room, your smile spread so wide across your face that your lips started to hurt.

Hearts, hearts, hearts…

Everywhere!

The vanity mirror, the bed, even the large window facing out into the trees was heart shaped. The real pièce de résistance of the suite was the huge, candy red heart bathtub in the center. Two glasses of champagne bubbled away by the edge of the tub as Shawn reached down to make sure the water was still warm. He seemed especially proud of the massive amount of bubbly foam that filled the heart. Shawn scooped up some of the bubbles and blew them out at you playfully. His clothes flew off of him with a grace that took quite a bit of control. You could see the effort he exerted painted plainly across his face and your heart floated. Even in his excitement he still wanted to look as sexy as possible for you.

Your own clothes fell beside you slowly. You took even longer to actually get in the tub for Shawn's benefit. There was something about the look in his eyes that made you feel like you were on top of the world. His soapy hand held onto the other champagne glass carefully to hand it over to you. You took a sip of it and floated over to him to plant a kiss on his lips that felt exceptionally chaste  in contrast to the lovey dovey theming surrounding you.

"I hope there's more of that coming." Your golden retriever of a man winked a blue eye at you, the charm incapable of being turned off.

"That and more, sweetheart."

#shawn michaels #wwe imagine #shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels fanfic #wrestling fanfic #wrestling #wwe #wwe fanfic #wwe shawn michaels #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Christian's Good Girl

(not my gif!)

18+, Christian Cage x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 2,337

Tags: Angry sex, vibrators, jealousy, hair-pulling, daddy kink, light dom/sub, exhibitionism, oral sex (mentioned), overstimulation

Additional character(s): Wardlow

Summary:

Christian Cage gives you a very special gift. --- Sitting in his lap one evening before a taping of Dynamite, Christian was ready to put you to the test.

“You’re gonna do something for me. Something fun. Something that shows how much you really love me.”

Christian Cage was a tease. He lived to be a jerk who enjoyed the suffering of others. You were starting to think that he gained some kind of life force from it like an energy vampire. That had to be the reason he started to zero in on you in particular. He’d already burrowed deep into the minds of Jungle Boy and Wardlow like a disgusting worm. Then when he got tired of them he dropped them like a bad habit, always on the lookout for his next victim. Lucky you to be just in his line of sight. 

It’d only been a few months since you started to fall for his weird psychosexual games. At first they left you confused. You were upset at yourself for not getting angry at him when he gripped his hand on your jaw to turn you to him mid conversation. He held you in place with his sparkling blue eyes, the tips of his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. As soon as he did it your train of thought was thrown off the rails. All you could think about was how strong he was— God, he was a lot stronger than he looked. You were as lost as a fawn in the woods with shock in your eyes and an instant submission relaxing your muscles. Yes, you’d be perfect. 

It didn’t take long for you to start following him around like a puppy. You were always at his heels ready for any scrap of his attention. But like a puppy, sometimes you were disobedient. It was always on purpose to teach him a lesson, to show him that even though you'd do anything for him, he had to prove himself. Christian could admit that your undivided devotion made him feverish. He loved it when his toys already came ready to play with. Despite your occasionally defiant nature, you were very open to his desires. It was his world and you were living in it. 

Sitting in his lap one evening before a taping of Dynamite, Christian was ready to put you to the test. 

“You’re gonna do something for me. Something fun. Something that shows how much you really love me.”

You didn’t know what else you could do to show your affection for him. By this point everyone was pretty aware that you were his. The way he left his hand resting on the back of your neck while you talked to other men or the deep, messy kisses he pulled you into before he walked down the ramp were signs enough. What more could you do? Well whatever it was, you’d do it happily. 

You shifted around in his lap to face him. Grinding against him while you turned, you wrapped your arms around his neck and blinked at him in that way he liked so much. All innocent and doll-like just to do something disgusting to him immediately following it. The very first time you did it, you dropped to your knees to pull his dick out from his pants and let him push it all the way down your throat. That same sweet look was in your eyes now, that same sweet look as when you were drooling and gagging all over the girth of him. 

“Sure daddy, what is it?”

Your hands came to rest on his cheeks. Looking at his beard you came to realize how much you missed feeling it scratch against your thighs. Squirming at the thought of his tongue gliding over your clit, you wished you hadn’t tried to teach him a lesson by being flirtatious with the other wrestlers. For that transgression he punished you harshly— lots of spankings and he wouldn’t eat you out for the indefinite future. Little did you know he missed it just as much as you did. 

Christian shifted around to dig in the pocket of his pants. Your eyes widened when he pulled out a bright purple silicon toy. It was curved just the slightest bit with a small raised area close to the top of it. Excitement began to course through your veins at Christian’s next words. 

“You’re my good girl, you know that right?”

All you could do was nod. 

“No, not good enough. Out loud.”

Christian smacked your backside, the skin exposed due to your short skirt bunching up. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s right. So what you’re gonna do for me is wear this little toy tonight, okay?”

Your hands gripped the sides of your chair while Christian leaned you back to get better access to your panties. He pulled up the tight fabric of your skirt to expose your underwear, some delicate lacy affair he had bought for you. Taking care to be gentle, he pulled them down just enough to place the smooth silicone toy right in the seat of your panties. It felt comfortable against you. 

“I can control the vibrations of it from my phone. You keep being good and I won’t mess with the levels too much. But if you act up…”

Christian pulled out his phone and opened up the vibrator’s app. Within seconds the thing buzzed to life with a force that almost knocked you out of his lap and into the floor. 

“Stop it stop it stop it! I promise I won’t do anything!”

Christian took mercy on you and turned it off. 

“I’ll give you a couple minutes to recover. Why don’t you go walk it off? It has a pretty good range. I’ll start it up again soon.” The smile on his face was so easy, it drove you insane. Walking out of the room with your thighs squeezed together, you could have sworn you saw his handsome features already twisted up. This would be just as hard for him as it would be for you. 

---

You were wrong. This was way harder for you. 

Even though Christian could be a total asshole most of the time, tonight he was being very sweet. He set the vibrations to a nice level, not light enough to be a tease but not strong enough to be uncomfortable. The toy buzzed pleasurably at your clit. You were smiling like the Cheshire cat but otherwise could hold a conversation normally. Christian stayed away from you for the majority of the night pretending as if he wasn’t the one making you feel this good. He’d glance you way every so often to see you squirm or for you to stop midway through a sentence to catch yourself. You were being good. 

That was until you started talking too much. 

Wardlow approached you at the catering table looking somber. Your hands were clenched around a bottle of water as you took small sips from it. You barely registered his presence next to you when e began to speak. 

“Hi there.”

“Hi, honey. Why the long face?”

“Ah well, it’s because I see you’re spending time with Christian now.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it. Spending time.”

“I just wanna tell you this ‘cause I’d hate to see him put another person through the pain. He’s a bad guy, okay? He might be treating you well now but he’ll turn on you when he gets bored. Trust me.”

You’d seen it play out at least twice now. The only person Christian cared about was himself. He’d use anyone to make his way to the top and not care how hurt they were after the fact. This thought did itch at the back of your mind sometimes. That was a bridge you’d cross when you reached it. 

The vibrator raised a level. It still felt good but now you had to cross your legs. Uh-oh. 

Christian saw you from across the large room talking to Wardlow. Anger scrunched up the lines on his face and reddened his skin quickly. Wardlow was trying to taint his newest plaything. Trying to make you see all of his flaws. And from the look on your face, you might seriously be considering whatever garbage he was spewing. He knew the perfect way to stop this right in its tracks. 

Leaning over past Wardlow’s wide frame, you caught a glimpse of Christian messing with his phone. 

“Wardlow, I really— appreciate! You coming over to warn me… it’s sweet— of you.”

The more you dragged this out the worse it’d be for you. Christian dragged his thumb on the strength slider with every word you spoke. Wardlow’s concern for you was painted plainly across his face, his eyebrows scrunching and his eyes searching yours for an answer. 

“I’ve got Christian handled though. You trust me .” You winked playfully and squeezed your legs even tighter, then stomped your foot on the ground. There was no way he couldn’t hear how loud this thing was. Maybe it was just vibrating through your whole body and ringing in your ears. 

“Are you okay? You look tense.”

“Yes, I’m doing just fine! Gotta go!” Christian was pissing you off. It's not like you were actively seeking out Wardlow, he came up to you! It wasn’t fair that you had to be punished ‘cause of his nosiness. You figured since you already made him this mad, why not take it a step further?

With deliberate steps forward, you reached up to stand on your tiptoes and kiss Wardlow’s cheek. Peeking over his shoulder, Christian shook his head slowly at you. You were in big trouble.

You ran away in the direction of Christian’s dressing room. Wardlow stood still in a daze at your strange behavior and warm kiss trying to figure out what the hell just happened. 

---

As soon as you made it to Christian’s dressing room you collapsed on the floor. You were a panting mess, the toy sending you closer and closer to a mindblowing orgasm that you were sure Christian wouldn’t let you have. About a minute after you fell on the floor, Christian walked in slowly and shut the door behind him. You opened your squeezed eyelids to see him the angriest he’d ever been as he stared down at you with his arms crossed over his chest. Then you looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. 

“You’ve got me handled, huh?”

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it—“ Your body curled in on itself while you moaned. There was no way this thing could get stronger. 

Your eyes flew back open when Christian grabbed your hair to pull you up onto your knees. He held you there while you pawed at your panties trying to move the toy away from your overstimulated clit. Tears began to cloud your vision of him and your scalp started to hurt at his grip. 

“You weren’t being a very good girl for me tonight. I don’t think you deserve to come.” Christian sighed and rubbed at his erection, his gaze not leaving you for a second.

“Please!”

“Tsk, tsk. I think I have to teach you a lesson.”

Christian led you up on to your feet by your hair and dragged you with him to a small couch in the room. He took his time to sit down and readjust himself before pushing you back down on to your knees. Finally he let go of your hair to unzip his pants. His cock sprung out already leaking from the sight of you so ready to come. Your mouth began to wrap around it when he snatched your head back again by the hair. 

“What makes you think you can have this right now?” Christian grabbed his dick and lightly slapped your cheek with it. There was such a cruel and condescending note in his voice that your own anger bubbled over. It wasn't your problem that he couldn't trust anyone, why should you suffer because of it?

That was it. 

“Fuck you Christian, let me come!”

Your whole world was turned upside down when Christian pulled you up into his lap and right onto his cock. One long and tortured moan fell out of you at the feeling of being so filled up by him. The toy finally slid off your clit with all of the movement and you were happy for it. What you really wanted was to feel him inside you. He snapped his hips deep inside your writhing body as you pawed at his face. You’d probably leave a scratch or two, but Christian wore those proudly. Anything to show that he made you feel that good. 

“Daddy loves you… even when you piss him off.”

“You’re an evil bastard, I hate you so fucking much!” 

The string of profanities you had for him that had been steadily building up all melted away. You could never stay mad at him, not when he fucked you hard like this. Christian wrapped an arm around your waist while he fidgeted around to look for the toy. Placing it gently on your clit while he continued to plunge his length within you, you cried out for him. Your body leaned into his, your breath tickling his ear while he breathed hot into your chest. 

“I’m gonna come for you, daddy.” You whispered in his ear all honey-sweet. 

Your muscles tightened around him with his final stuttered thrusts inside of you. Christian was pretty sure he was going blind when he released inside of you, the sight of your shaking body making his heart beat too fast. You couldn’t catch your breath as pleasure washed over you, it was just too much. Christian removed the toy from you and grasped for his phone to shut it off. Your body limply fell onto the couch.

“Were you getting jealous of me talking to Wardlow?” You giggled. 

“You must be delusional from that vibrator. And I obviously didn’t fuck you hard enough if you’re still able to talk.”

“Mmm, you're such a dick. I love you.”

“I thought you said you hated me?” Christian leaned over to kiss you softly. 

“Same thing."

#aew #all elite wrestling #christian cage #christian cage x reader #wrestling #wrestling fanfic #aew smut #wrestling smut #aew fanfic #aew christian cage #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Mango Lip Gloss

(not my gif!)

18+, Lalo Salamanca x Fem!Reader one shot smut

[Also available on Archive of our Own!]

Word count: ~2.8k

Tags: Rough sex, condomless sex, older man/younger woman, teasing, eye contact, sugar daddy, dirty talk, car sex, daddy kink

Summary:

Lalo Salamanca brings you along with him and Nacho for a late night ride in the desert. Nacho is made to wait outside of the car while Lalo and you have fun.

The warm desert winds of New Mexico whipped strands of your hair to get stuck in your sticky lip gloss. For about the hundredth time that night, you moved your hair out of the way and pushed it back only to be thwarted again. The wind did feel nice despite you annoyance. It was dry, much drier than the wind from your hometown. Staring out into the landscapes passing you by, you began to think of home. There was nothing waiting for you there. No home to call your own, no job, no family, not even a pet to anxiously await your returning presence. New Mexico was your home for the time being. Your thoughts began to get clouded at the circumstances that led you to this moment; sitting in the back of a drug dealer's old school car while flying through the never ending desert late at night.

The song playing was something upbeat in Spanish. It pounded through the impressive sound system in the car and was bringing forth the beginnings of a headache. Maybe getting involved with someone you couldn't understand half of the time was not a smart idea, you thought. But on the other hand it didn't matter. You preferred to be ignorant of the things he said. From his tone it tended to sound like something you didn't want to know anyways. You did at least wish you could understand the music. Lalo Salamanca talked loudly over it to the man driving the car, Nacho Varga. He was in a particularly jovial mood for reasons you weren't fully aware of. A wide smile covered his face as he told what seemed like a joke to the driver, who returned a tight smile to him.

From your position behind the driver's seat you could tell that Nacho was strained. He was always strained the few times you'd seen him. His eyes, pools of sorrow and anger surrounded in long curled lashes, flickered over to Lalo and then to the rearview mirror. As soon as you met them there you had to look away. Too intense. Lalo curled his body back around the passenger seat to look at you. You were once again removing the strands of hair from your lips. Surely the gloss was smudged across your face now.

With a frustrated huff you reached for your tiny designer purse. It didn't contain anything but a few hundred dollar bills, a compact, lip gloss, and extra pair of panties. Lalo had managed to convince you that you didn't need to carry anything else, not even a cell phone. You figured that since he bought you the purse you should take heed on that "suggestion". As you flipped open the compact and unscrewed the applicator from the gloss tube, Lalo shifted just the slightest in his seat. He was watching you reapply the shiny, mango scented gloss. Something about the way your full lips parted just slightly… your concentration while you applied to make sure you didn't go past your lip line, the way your lips smacked together when you were done. The scent of the gloss was strong and wafted through the car quickly as the wind flew through the open windows. A playful wink at your boyfriend was all it took to make him rock hard.

"You're getting yourself cute for me." Lalo's eyes were aflame with passion, but his smile tried to show that he was just joking around. "Or is it for Nachito over here? She looks cute, huh?" Lalo nudged Nacho. He was too smart for the trap, eyes not leaving the road ahead of him. A terse nod was the only response he gave. Yes, you were a cute girl. A girl, not a woman. He figured that's why Lalo kept you around, because of your youth. You weren't a baby at 22 years of age, but you certainly weren't as grown up as you thought. Nacho could tell that just like many other men, Lalo liked having a young woman worship everything he did. Besides, Nacho was too occupied with the extenuating circumstances life kept throwing at him in recent days. He had no time for relationships of any kind. In fact he wondered how Lalo made time to drag you away.

"He's so stoic. Never has any fun!" Lalo waved off his associate. "But you, mamita, you know how to have fun with me." Blood rushed to your cheeks at the memories of your escapades. Hotel rooms, in his car, in Nacho's car, behind auto shops… Lalo would take you anywhere he wanted to. Whenever he grabbed you it was with a tight grip and an urgency. He left you wet and aching, clawing at him for more before he told you to be quiet and wait for later. You liked being used like that, especially in the broad daylight when he was in the middle of his business. You'd return to the room with a huge reddish-purple hickey on your neck or the top of your cleavage, letting all the other cartel members know that you were his. Then he'd take you out to eat at a nice restaurant or buy you a fancy piece of jewelry at the mall. Yes, this was much more exciting than home.

A yawn, louder than you expected, escaped your lips. A quick glance at your dainty gold watch told you that it was midnight. How much longer would you be driving? Where were you even going? When you got in the car Lalo told you that you all were just going on a trip. That was two hours ago. If you fell asleep now you'd probably wake up just as you arrived back in Albuquerque. With that thought now being the only thing on your mind, you rearranged yourself to lay on your side and face the backseat. You didn't wear much more than tank tops and cutoff shorts around Lalo, and tonight was no different. The pair you had on was cut a little higher than usual. He knew you were teasing him by having your ass face out to him. The view of the seat of your shorts meeting right at the soft flesh of lips caused him to squint into the rearview mirror, then shut his eyes.

"Hmm," was the last thing you heard from him as you drifted off into sleep.

---

The sound of a car door slamming shut awoke you with a jolt. It was still nighttime and you were still in the middle of nowhere. You wanted to take a nice, cool shower and lay in plush sheets instead of being glued to a leather car seat. The car was parked as Nacho and Lalo were outside for a bathroom break. With a stretch of your limbs, you turned onto your stomach. Hopefully after this you'd be taken back to ABQ. You didn't even understand what the point of all this driving was. The rear door by your feet opened and suddenly the full weight of Lalo's body pressed down on you. You were trapped under him, feeling shocked, scared, and immediately turned on. His erection pressed right into your smooth legs, the feeling weird due to also having his scratchy denim against you. His large metal belt buckle, which always made you giggle internally at its size, was cold against the small of your back.

Lalo's lips were close to your ear. "You've been teasing me all night. The smell of that gloss drives me insane. And those shorts... you know exactly what you're doing." He moved your hair to the side to begin kissing your neck more gently than usual. He was going to take his time. The prospect of that sent butterflies through your stomach.

Just as soon as you thought tonight would be different, you felt the seat of your shorts and panties moved to the side. Lalo rocked back onto his knees, your legs spread apart around him. You were glistening with arousal. The pushed to the side fabric of your shorts pressed your outer labia together. Lalo's eyes widened at the soft plushness of your lips, shining and full just like the ones on your face. He pressed back down on you, filling you to the hilt with his thick cock.

"Ah!-pshhhhh." You could no longer form coherent words, just noises while his member massaged you. Lalo loved the way that you mumbled when he fucked you, the way you always went dumb when he fucked you hard. The tip of him hit your g-spot, causing your legs to fly up behind him. He grabbed you up by your neck and turned your face into his. The clear gloss was definitely smudged now. The scent of it invaded his nostrils while he hungrily kissed you, tongue swirling around yours. A string of spit trailed between you two as he moved his head away, pushing your face back down into the seat. The artificially sweet mango scent settled into his mustache while he pumped away.

The hickey Lalo began to leave was painful as usual. Your moans alternated into gasps interspersed with nonsense mumbling. Every few strokes, he'd push into you as deeply as possible. He'd stay there for a second, then pump quickly into your spot for a few strokes to make you scream. He laughed the first time he did it, raising your head back again to wipe away the drool from your mouth. The fabric of your jeans continued to rub into your clit while his strokes pushed you back and forth. Your thin wife beater shirt rubbed into your nipples too, reminding you that you weren't wearing a bra. The overstimulation was sending you to the edge.

"How does it feel? I'm gonna fuck you until you can't feel those pretty legs. I want my little slut to beg me to stop." There was that mean edge to him, the part of him that flashed to the world every once in a while. It could be a little surprising but you came around to liking it. Only a man like him would be allowed to be so awful in that way and still command respect. It had to be that way because he'd always get nice again, even if it was a facade.

More gurgles came out at Lalo's purposefully slowing strokes inside you. His fingers moved to your clit to rub lazily over it. He knew you were reaching your limit. He was too, the warmth of you almost too much to handle. Your pussy clenched around him while your nails clenched into the seat. The weight of him on you knocked the wind out of your chest and made you blank out for a second. Right, you were getting fucked harder than you'd ever been in the back of a car! How could you ever forget?

"Feels good… you feel good," Your lips were smushed against the seat as the words dragged and lilted out of you. "You feel so good, daddy."

Lalo's hand curled into the hair at the base of your scalp to raise you up roughly. You were sure it was going to rip out of your head if he held it any tighter. He was still mid-stroke, cock almost pressing against your spot again. You were instantly regretful over your choice of words.

"What did you call me?" Lalo's voice was… you couldn't quite tell. Strained? It was growly, definitely. On the calm side though. He had to be pissed.

"D-daddy. I'm sorry," You breathed.

His laugh was dark. Dark and playful. "Mmm. I like that. Means I'm fucking you right! Tell me, is daddy fucking you the way you like?"

Lalo's hand was still tangled in your hair. Thankfully he had released some of the grip on it. In the reflection of the window, you saw that charming smile he mastered in the reflection. The same smile he gave cashiers and clerks when he wanted to get his way. The same one he gave you when he had you right where he wanted you. With a suddenness that disoriented you, you were placed on your back. Lalo's face was so close to you that your noses almost touched. Your right leg was placed on his shoulder, giving his cock purchase against your warm opening. His eyes were locked on you, while yours darted around your head. A hand began to gently run across your cheek, such a sweet gesture from him.

"I love the way you fuck me."

With those words, the feeling of him filling you up erased all other feeling from you. Lalo refused to look anywhere else but into your eyes with a look you could only describe as passionate. He wouldn't say that, of course. You could tell. He slid into you so easily. His large arms wrapped behind your back to get you even closer to him. The belt buckle dug into your stomach and felt alien in comparison to the feeling of fabric and skin. His thrusts were more deliberate than earlier. He wanted to feel every part of you, every muscle grabbing and releasing around his dick. The words he said to you in Spanish didn't seem as mean as usual. You wouldn't know the difference either way.

"Tell me again, and look at me this time. You're gonna look me in my eyes when I make you-- come." Lalo's breath quickened in pace. He was close. He didn't think the term of endearment you let slip would make him feel like this so soon. His hand moved from your cheek to your chin to hold your face in place. There was no running away. It's not like you had anywhere you wanted to go.

"I fucking… love the way you fuck me, daddy. Will you come inside me, please?" Your lips trembled at saying it again. Something about the way your voice rose when you spoke to him in the throes of sex made him keep coming back. The little things you did, from putting on lip gloss to fixing your shorts were the things that Nacho didn't understand about your presence amongst them. You had your worth.

"You know just what to say, huh? Naughty girl, begging for my come like that. Impaciente." Lalo refused to lose by breaking eye contact first. He needed to see you come undone from him. He wasn't able to hold on any longer though, thick ropes of his seed releasing inside you. You lost your breath at the warm sensation. Your own orgasm hit you hard, so hard you wrapped your legs around him so he couldn't pull out too soon. You had to have his cock in you while you twitched over it. The two of you stayed stuck together like that for a moment to revel in the moment. Little aftershocks rolled through you while he smiled at you again, this time with no semblance of mischief or evil. Just the genuine happy relief of someone who was thoroughly satisfied. Your smile back was small. He tired you out even more than you already were, causing your eyelids to get heavy.

"Ha!" Lalo laughed, winning the staring contest. "Alright, get up and change out of those panties. We've got a long drive back to Albuquerque." He left a wet kiss on your cheek before raising up to put his softened dick back into his pants. Climbing out of the car, he shut the door for your privacy. You quickly switched out your underwear, happy he made you bring an extra pair. Despite all of his terrifying moments there was a caring man somewhere within Lalo. That's what you told yourself, at least. You could pretend for the time being that he cared. He cared enough to buy you things and let you stay with him. In the back of your head you knew that could change at any second. For the meantime you decided to push that thought away and just be happy.

You were sitting upright when Nacho and Lalo got back in the front seats. The car roared to life, music blasting. Nacho still wore that same terse look on his face as reality dawned on you. You and Lalo forced him to wait outside while you two had sex! Embarrassment took you completely. Lalo turned to wink at you mockingly as if to say "Gotcha!. He began to speak to Nacho in Spanish, laughing every once in a while. Deep breaths inhaled that mango scent over and over. You moved back behind the driver's seat to stare out of the window again, the wind rushing by just as before to throw your hair into your lip gloss while the three of you sped back to ABQ.

#lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca #bcs #bcs fanfic #bcs smut #better call saul #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Sextape

18+, CM Punk x Randy Orton one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Tags: mutual masturbation, porn video, porn with feelings

Word count: 2909

Summary:

Randy invites Punk over to his hotel room, then gets more than he bargained for.

Punk shoved his raggedy old duffle bag into Randy's arms and walked into the hotel room like he owned it. It was one thing Randy respected about him; he didn't act confident, he was confident. Sometimes, too much for his own good. But Randy was sure someone had said that about him in the past. 

"Did you really need to bring all this shit with you?"

Randy stared down at the duffle bag while he kicked the door to the room shut. Punk sat down on the couch, sinking into it without a care in the world. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of it and rested his hands on his chest, blinking pretty eyes at Randy's prone figure still standing at the entrance. 

"This is a nice room, a lot nicer than anything they've given me. What do I gotta do to get a suite this nice?"

"Be me."

Punk huffed out his breath dramatically, then rolled his eyes. Randy was such a buzzkill sometimes. 

"Or, fuck me. Then you get to stay for a night. Depending on how I feel after, at least."

"Oh come on, Randy. We both know you'll let me stay."

"Don't be so sure."

Randy threw the bag onto the couch beside Punk and walked back into the room. The sun was setting relatively quickly, no doubt because of fat clouds rolling in. They were tinted a pleasant shade of pink and purple and orange on their bottoms, with a threatening deep gray painting the top of them. As hot as it was outside, rain would soon come pouring down. Randy let himself stare out into the distance for a few seconds, tilting his head at the droplets that were already beginning to appear on the window pane, then shut the curtains. 

Punk watched the whole thing quietly. Sometimes there were those little moments where he so desperately wanted to know what the hell was on Randy's mind. He wasn't sure he had the balls to ask him though, so he never reached out. The prospect of bothering him with an inane question, breaking whatever this little thing they shared together some nights… Well, Punk had come to enjoy it. So it was best to keep his mouth shut.

"You haven't even asked what's in the bag." Punk's voice held a hint of teasing in it.

"Probably something weird."

"Ouch."

Yes, the stuff was weird. But he didn't need to say it like that, in that deadpan no-joke unreadable way that made Punk twist up inside.

"Lucky for you, weird is what I'm in the mood for tonight. Open it up."

Randy made his way back over to the couch as Punk unzipped the bag slowly. He wanted to shock Randy, in fact he kind of needed to. The shock was what made it especially fun. There was only so many times Randy could call him a bitch or fuck him in some sort of semi-public space before it started to bore Punk.

"Tsk, tsk," Randy shook his head as he rifled through the bag. A red and white striped cheerleader's skirt, a cock ring, various dildos of different colors and sizes… the only thing that caught the barest semblance of his interest were a few DVDs.

"Not weird enough, Punk. Or maybe, predictably weird."

Punk felt like his chest was going to cave in very suddenly. Not weird enough? What the fuck?

"Uh… predictably weird?"

"Yeah, man. I knew you were into this kinda stuff already." Randy threw a transparent purple dildo into Punk's lap as he hit the bottom of the bag. He picked up the DVD cases and fanned them out in his hands. Two were about what Randy expected-- one held a perfect shot of a woman with her mouth wide open and come covering her lips, the other a barrage of stills of a man being fucked in a few different positions.

"Kinda looks like us." Randy turned the case around to Punk and smiled. Thank God. Punk was starting to think he fucked up.

The last case was strangely not of the dirty variety. It advertised some low budget action movie, the kind where every element on it looked poorly photoshopped on. A ripped white sheet of paper was slotted in the plastic covering that covered the actor's body. Randy popped open the case to find an unmarked disc where the movie should have been. He was stumped.

"And what's this supposed to be?"

The little gap in Punk's front teeth was cute. It gave him an air of innocence he most certainly didn't actually possess. Randy couldn't help but to let his cock stiffen slightly at seeing Punk beam up at him while it showed. 

"A surprise."

Randy paused at how playful Punk had gotten. He knew to be cautious when he started acting like that. It was best to ignore it for the time being. Soon enough, Punk would spill his own secret. Whether that was because he couldn't contain it or because Randy would get it out of him one way or another was to be seen. 

"A surprise? I don't know if I like your surprises."

"You'll like that one. But for now, it waits. Choose one of those other videos."

Randy sat the mystery movie down on the coffee table. He tried to figure out what kind of mood he was in as he looked at the other two videos. Watching Punk squirm while he took his time deciding made it all the more fun.

"Hm, okay. I think I know what I want. Close your eyes."

Punk shut his eyelids and crossed his arms over his chest. Randy turned on the TV and immediately muted it as he pressed a few buttons on the remote to switch the input to the DVD player. The plastic case snapped and popped when Randy removed the disc from it. Very shortly after he let the player take it, the menu queued itself up in all of its bright, naughty glory. Randy let the production logos start, then skipped past all of the scenery set up. Finally, he turned the sound back up just a little. 

Punk was being a lot more patient than he expected. It turned Randy on more than he thought it would, so he hurried to remove his clothes. He lowered himself onto the couch, only inches away from Punk's figure.

"Open."

Punk wasn't sure what to look at. Randy sat beside him completely naked, eyes on higher alert than usual, stroking himself slowly for Punk's benefit. He felt his cheeks get hot as he looked up towards the video, the woman with her mouth agape on the DVD cover getting ready to take a large cock into her mouth.

"Undress for me. Then, press play and sit back down."

Punk was off of the couch before Randy could finish. He fumbled to get his jeans and t-shirt off, then rushed over to press play. When he returned to sit by Randy, he made sure their bodies were touching.

"You must have seen the case for this one at my house, huh?" Randy's breath hitched as he twisted around himself. The video wasn't new to him by any means, but it was good every time. He'd shot off to it more than a few times, imagining the dark-haired woman as Punk each time. She even had a lip ring just like his. He wondered if he should do a better job hiding his stash as he recalled Batista coming across it once while visiting and making the connection between the woman and Punk very quickly.

"Maybe," Punk didn't take a second glance at the TV. His gaze fell fully on Randy's body, on the way his chest rose and fell while he stroked away. His head was thrown back while he continued on, feeling the way Punk stared a hole through him. Punk grabbed on to his own dick roughly, applying lots of pressure while he watched Randy. It'd been some time since they'd done this together. 

Randy's eyes, as blue as ever, shot open to return a look at Punk. The flush of his cheeks had spread across his cheeks, adding ever so sweetly to that innocent look he loved to put on. Punk felt especially seen, an overwhelming sense of pleasure washing over him. 

"Don't you look pretty," Randy smiled at Punk like he was going to eat him up. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Punk did look pretty coming undone just thinking about Randy.

"Just for you, Randy." Punk pressed his thumb hard at the base of himself. The woman's moans felt much louder in Punk's ear than they actually were. Randy could barely even hear them with the blood rushing in his ears.

"Just for me, fuck." 

Randy groaned and took a deep breath. He let go of himself, to Punk's immense disappointment. Punk continued to stroke at the sight of Randy's wet cock bobbing in the air. Punk didn't know where he got the discipline from to just stop at a moment's notice. He certainly wasn't going to stop on Randy's accord. It was selfish, but Randy had come to expect it. He'd even started to get a thrill out of how much Punk couldn't contain himself.

"You can keep going, but I want you to come while I fuck you. So you'd better slow it down."

Punk made a tortured noise that was a cross between annoyance and restraint. He pouted and let his hand flop onto the couch.

"I think it's time for that other video now. This time, you go stand over there and close your eyes."

Randy sighed at the request, but obeyed. It only took a couple of minutes for Punk to swap out the DVDs and position himself on the bed. He arched himself up, shaking his hair out to get it nice and big, and turned his head his neck quickly to peek at Randy still standing in the corner. The remote rested right in front of him, ready for the final step.

"Alright, open."

There was a long, expected silence in the room. Punk kept his ass in the air and wished he could see Randy's expression. If he wasn't angry, he could bet he was surprised.

"What… the fuck?"

Randy could not take his eyes off the image of Punk's fucked out face filling the TV screen. He had a wild look in his eyes as he bit at the bottom of his smiling lip and looked right into the lens of the camera. Randy was right behind him, or at least the blurred movement of his legs were.

"I look hot, huh?"

Randy was too pissed to admit that he looked perfect. 

"When did you do this?" Randy's voice was dangerously low. 

"Does it matter?" Punk readjusted his arms. They were starting to cramp up.

"No, I guess it fucking doesn't." 

The weight of the bed dipped when Randy climbed onto it. He grabbed at Punk's neck hard and forced him to look into his face.

"Are you mad at me?" Punk tried to reach up to give Randy a kiss, but couldn't move a muscle.

Randy took a second to answer. He was mad. Not because he'd been filmed without permission, he didn't care about that. He was mad because Punk had done it first, the sneaky bastard. He'd been planning on asking him if he could have a camera going for a while now. Now he had to come up with some new idea to keep Punk interested.

"I bet you wish I was, I know you like it when I'm angry. No, I'm not mad. I think it's sexy."

Punk almost let the wind get taken out of his sails before hearing that Randy said he thought it was sexy. He pushed his body back into Randy eagerly and inched his way to the remote's play button.

The volume had been turned up significantly from the sudden sound of Punk laughing ringing in Randy's ears as the video started. Randy watched himself pull Punk across-- his own bed? He filmed this at his house? He'd know those dark sheets anywhere. Video Randy grabbed at Punk's waist and pulled them chest to chest together, almost out of frame. He leaned into suck at the flesh of Punk's neck hard, making Punk moan as they both fell back fully on the bed. 

It was all coming back to Randy. That session between them had been a particularly good one. Better than usual, and that was saying a lot. Seeing the video now, it all clicked in Randy's head. Punk put on an extra special show just for him. 

Punk felt the slicked up head of Randy's cock press at his hole. While he thought they were both watching the video in a daze, Randy had reached over to the bedside table to rub lube onto himself. 

Punk was on his back now in the video with Randy still incessantly kissing and sucking at his neck. Those bruises took forever to heal, he remembered. He sported them proudly around the locker room and let the other guys take a guess at which Diva had given them to him. With every new name that came out of their mouths, Punk laughed. Video Punk looked up into the camera when Randy entered him. 

Punk of real life's mouth fell open when Randy took the opportunity to slot himself inside of him. He pushed back onto his dick and fucked back while watched the video play. It was unfortunate that the hidden positioning of the camcorder had muffled its microphone. Punk caught a few snippets of whatever Randy had been whispering to him that night and felt his cock twitch below him. He always knew the perfect thing to say. Randy continued to grasp at Punk's hips while he watched the video. What had made him so passionate that night, he couldn't remember. He was at Punk's neck like a vampire, moving from side to side then reaching up to say something obscene in his ear.

Punk moaned a beat off of his moans from the video, filling the room with a loud cacophony of his own voice. He was never not selling it. The smooth, tanned, tattooed skin of Video Randy's back had a bit of a sheen covering it from sweating. Video Punk licked the sweat that dripped down onto his neck as he looked back into the camera, then quickly pulled Randy in for a messy kiss when he began to look up in the direction of the lens.

"Very sneaky of you," Randy growled above him. He was sort of embarrassed at how ready he was to come this soon. 

Punk was jumping out of his skin from Randy's pace. His cock swung around heavily below him, begging to be touched. He wanted to save it for right at the end, right at the perfect moment. Randy's legs shook as he continued to fuck Punk hard and the video played on. Not only did Punk look good, but he himself looked good. He always looked good, but seeing himself on video in the middle of sex really did something else for him. At least he knew if wrestling didn't work out, he could always be a pornstar.  

Punk angled up to reach at his cock at the impending finale. He just knew it would catch Randy off guard. He of course knew it was coming up. He'd watched the video about a million times before finally debuting it to Randy. 

Video Randy slowed down and grinded slowly into Punk, a lewd movement that made Video Punk's eyes shut. They were both about to come. 

"God, you look so good, baby." 

Randy delicately smoothed Punk's sweaty hair out of his face. In a moment that Punk was sure had to be a slice of heaven, Randy's lessened pace and loving expression sent him careening out to space. He returned the look back to him, his eyes saucer plate huge and adoringly staring at Randy. Together they both groaned in ecstasy, their orgasms wracking their bodies at the same time.

Punk's moan was guttural as he latched onto his dick and stroked. His come shot out on the comforter with rushed spurts that made his legs wobble. Randy followed suit shortly after, breathing heavily. It took him a long time to actually pull out of Punk. He waited for his blurred, wet vision to clear up while he watched the last minutes of the video. He had collapsed on top of Punk, whispering little inside jokes as they both tried not to pass out. Finally, Randy of real life pulled out and fell back on to the bed, his arms spread out while he stared up at the ceiling. Punk climbed off of the bed and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. Randy hadn't moved an inch when he returned to lie down next to him.

"So, you gonna kick me out?"

Punk framed the question as a joke. Deep down he wasn't sure if Randy was going to send him packing, especially after his little videotape stunt.

"No."

"No?" 

"No, Punk. I want you to stay."

"Okay."

Punk didn't press his luck as he moved in closer to Randy's body and the video quietly stopped playing.

#cm punk #randy orton #cm punk x randy orton #wrestling #magnoliafanfic #wrestling smut #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction

[magnoliacharmed]

Not So Scary After All

(not my gif!)

18+, Bret Hart x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: ~3.1k

Tags: Secret relationship, sneaking around, flirting, vaginal fingering, hand job, hickeys, condomless sex

Summary:

You and Bret try your hardest not to reveal your secret relationship to everyone. Eventually you two have too much fun one night and accidentally make the relationship known.

"Do you like scary movies?" 

You stood up on your tiptoes behind Bret, just barely reaching his ear. It took a lot of practice to get your voice to be threateningly gravelly, yet still sexy. 

"Yeah." There was a playful tone in his voice. 

You cleared your throat, the sound coming with a higher pitch than you would've liked. You put the voice on again. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

---

You'd been watching Scream quite a bit ever since it was released on videotape. After learning that Bret was a fan of all things horror, you finally managed to convince him to come to your room so he could watch it with you. You both sat through the first forty-five minutes of it, completely engaged like it was new to you, until Bret pulled you to sit in his lap. 

You were surprised that your plan had actually worked, considering that you were pretty sure he hated you! He didn't say much to you backstage and always had a look of simmering annoyance when your name was spoken near him. You took his reactions in stride and left him alone for the most part. Not everyone was going to like you. Damned if you didn't throw a little bit of yourself Bret's way occasionally to gauge his reaction, though. His beautiful brown eyes couldn't help but to fall to your chest every once in a while. You never seemed to be wearing a bra when that happened. 

After your tryst together you laid on his broad, heaving chest and decided to ruin the moment. 

"I thought you didn't like me."

Bret's huge hand raised up from the bed. You placed your own hand palm side to his. His fingers pushed your hand into a fist which he then covered with his own completely. You didn't realize how physically imposing he was until this moment of intimacy. The man simply took up space. 

"That's exactly what I wanted you to think." 

Your eyebrows raised as you lifted up to straddle his body. He looked up at you with a smugness that got you turned on all over again. Your hands ran up and down his chest while he continued to speak.

"I would've flirted with you too often and gotten myself in trouble."

You smiled at this reveal. If anything you would've been the one getting yourself in trouble with him. Generally you could keep it cool in the face of lust (and love)… but there was something about Bret that made you feel like a kid with a schoolyard crush all over again. "So instead you pretended you didn't want anything to do with me?"

"You're a smart girl. You're bold too. I had a feeling you'd test the waters one day."

With a light slap against his chest and a kiss pressed to his cheek he rolled you over. You were trapped under him now, his eyes shining into yours. He didn't give you the chance to react to his words as his lips began to move from your ear down to your neck, strands of his brown hair brushing past you and lighting you on fire in their wake. 

Memories of that night returned to you at inopportune moments over the next couple of months. It was hard to focus at the gym when you kept replaying the way Bret said your name while he was inside you. Continuing the charade of feigned irritation toward you was proving to be difficult for him too. How could he pretend that you were a nuisance when every time you looked at him he got so hard it hurt? It got to the point that you both took the risk of sneaking away for little moments together. You two made out like horny teenagers in every dark corner you could find. There were only a handful of times you thought you'd get caught and once was almost by Mr. McMahon himself. It wasn't enough to dissuade either of you. Some professionals you were. You were each other's one weakness. 

The problems really started when you two left hickeys on each other's necks. 

What an amateur move that was!

The heat of the moment was just too much to handle. The thrill of getting exposed was making you two not think straight. You could come up with all the excuses in the world but what's done was done. Now you and Bret both sported big purple hickeys for the world to see. How were you going to explain that matching set to everyone?

To be fair, Bret started it! There was just something about the expanse of skin on your neck that made him want to keep his lips on it whenever possible. He was being such an asshole that night. Whispering the dirtiest words you had ever had the pleasure of hearing in your life, he stood behind you while you looked at yourself in the hotel mirror. Your hands stopped trying to fix your hair as you felt him approach you. 

"You can't go out tonight, not until I make you come again." He whispered into your ear and immediately you were wet. You wondered why you even bothered wearing panties around him sometimes. 

You stared at him through the mirror. The slight pain of a hickey was always so much fun. He latched on you the same way a vampire latched onto his victim. The thought of Bret in comically bad vampire teeth was funny enough for you to mentally file away for later when you needed a pick-me-up. 

"You're not the boss of me." You hoped you could keep up the brat act for longer than usual and finally win this game of--

You were shocked out of your thoughts by how loud your moan was. Focusing on the reflection in the mirror once again somehow Bret had managed to sneak his hand under the seat of your underwear. It's not like there was much to the skimpy fabric. He could have ripped it away with little force. The thought of doing so crossed his mind and burned bright. He could imagine you going wide eyed at the sudden roughness of the gesture. Instead though, he restrained himself. You could have just as easily gotten pissed at him too. 

The hickey he left began to hurt more than anything. As soon as it approached becoming unbearable, the pads of his fingers grazed over your clit. His own hardness pressed into your backside with an urgency. You were already so wet for him and he'd barely touched you. It was little things that made these risks worth taking. Your eyelids fluttered at the lazy swirling motions across your most sensitive spot. He liked seeing you slowly come undone because of him. 

Bret no longer had to imagine that look of surprise on your face he desperately needed to see. He decided to go all in and rip your panties off of you, the fabric of them falling onto the floor abruptly. 

"What's gotten into you?" You breathed at him. One of his large fingers was inside you now, slowly moving in and out. Your muscles twitched at the sensation. He could be such a tease sometimes. 

You didn't receive an answer to your question. You did, however, feel Bret's free hand reach up to your jaw. He moved your head to look straight into the mirror at you while he held you to him. How lewd you looked, hair a mess and panting away while Bret fingered you. He wanted you to see just what he could do to you. You were happy you were in a hotel room instead of a dark corridor or dressing room so you whimper and moan as loud as you wanted. Bret's grip on your jaw was tight. He didn't want you to miss the show. 

Finally he released himself from the hickey. In the back of your mind you hoped it wouldn't look quite as bad as it felt. The dull ache seemed to spread and pump in time with your own raised heartbeat. Bret pushed another finger into you and your eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure. 

"We're not standing in the mirror for nothing. Open your eyes and see how pretty you look." He was starting to get close himself just from the way you were writhing against him. With a superhuman amount of effort your eyes opened again to meet his in the mirror. The hand he'd placed on your jaw was now on your neck, his thumb rubbing lightly against the hickey he'd just left. He barely put any pressure into his grip as your orgasm took over you.

His name came out of you in chants and breathless pleas. Your knees buckled below you causing you to almost collapse right onto the floor. Bret's arms wrapped around your waist before you could fully fall down. There were a lot of words running through your mind that just couldn't form themselves into proper sentences. One thing did peek its way through -- you had to return the favor. 

You turned to face Bret, pressing your head against his chest. You had to catch your breath. His own heart was beating fast at the heat of you against him. Your eyes blinked up at him innocently. You hoped they didn't betray you by showing him how much lust you were truly filled with. Just as he was about to speak, most likely to make a joke about you still going out for the night, his voice was cut off by his own strangled groan. You tugged his pants down and shoved a hand into his boxers. Bret began to stumble backwards towards the bed at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, stroking his length in the deliberate way you knew he liked. Your hand moved in a twisting motion from the base to the tip of him, his pre-come giving you what you needed to stroke at the perfect pace. Now you were the one in charge. 

Bret collapsed on the bed. He was happy he'd managed to shake your hand off him as he sat. He wasn't trying to and definitely wasn't going to waste his orgasm on an (admittedly very good) handjob. No, your pussy was too good for that. He had to have his release inside you. 

His wish was coming true. You hastily pulled his boxers down and straddled him. His arms wrapped around your waist again and he lifted you up off the bed, ankles locking behind him so you wouldn't fall from his grasp. So much for being in control. 

"Sit against the headboard."

"Nah. I think I like having you in the air like this. I can keep a better eye on you."

"Suit yourself," You said with a smile. "Don't blame me when your legs give out and we both hit the floor too hard. You know you start to shake when you come."

It was true. He'd feel pretty embarrassed if he fell. Knowing you were right but not wanting to admit it, you came along with him as he moved pillows out of the way and sat against the headboard. You were back straddling him with full control of your body. The lustful look you were trying so hard to conceal was very present on your face. Bret had noticed you giving him that same look at sneaky and inconvenient moments for him. It never failed to make him hard. He once almost dared to take you right there backstage after you told him just how good he was after a match, that same look on your face.

"You're so good, Bret. So good…" You whispered. You had begun to grind against him. Even with it being torture for you, you knew how crazy it must be driving him. Your wetness slicked over his cock. Bret's eyes seemed to glaze over at the tip of him being impatiently placed at your entrance.

You yelped at the feeling of him filling you up, your body pressing into his further and your lips flying to his neck to suck on the skin there. He let you get adjusted to the thickness of his cock. You were frantically alternating from little kisses to lovebites while your walls clenched around him eagerly. You needed him to move! If he didn't start soon the hickey you left on him would be much worse than the one he left on you. 

As if he was reading your mind, Bret thrusted into you. You chose to straddle him in an attempt at making him lose control while you bounced on top of him. You'd really show him! Secretly though you knew that he'd take control and fuck you instead, leaving you grind into him in response to the way he pounded into you. 

His powerful legs gave him the leverage to drive himself into you over and over. Bret was getting a little dizzy from the stimulation on his neck. Your hands tangled in his hair when you lifted up your head to speak to him. 

"How are you so good… every fucking time?" You punctuated your feelings with a whine. That familiar warmth that built up below was arriving again. You returned to the reddening bruise on his neck and began to suck again. 

You were too much for him, in a good way. Everything about you made some kind of switch flip in his mind that made him only able to think of making you come. It was starting to become all encompassing to the point where he really didn't care if you two got caught. You would be worth it. He thought about he'd approach that subject with you to keep himself from painting your insides too early. 

The attempt was futile. His strokes got deeper and slower whenever you pushed back onto him. The final time you did it, you positioned down on him, another orgasm locking you up completely. Your head fell back away from his neck while you moaned. You bounced just a little on him to chase the residual throes of your pleasure. That movement was enough for him to spill inside you, his cock twitching with spurt after spurt. He was glad he was able to wait. The come began to leak out of you almost immediately to your disappointment.

The stimulation was too much for the both of you. Bret raised you off of him and placed you on the bed beside you gently. The only sounds in the room were the two of you trying to catch your breath. You both stared up at the ceiling with all kinds of thoughts in your mind.  You had to get up and use the bathroom, take a shower, get a glass of water, figure out your outfit for tomorrow… 

You awoke with a start the next morning. Bright light streamed into the room pleasantly. It was going to be a warm day. The lack of warmth in the bed showed that Bret was no longer lying next to you. You scratched your head in confusion then noticed something was scribbled on the bedside notepad. 

"You're in for a surprise…" The note said. Knowing him you were sure it wasn't going to be a fun surprise. Bret loved leaving cryptic notes around you just had to figure out on your own. 

Climbing out of the bed you shuffled into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It took you a few seconds to notice the surprise he was talking about. Right there, plain as day, was a gigantic bruise right at the base of your neck. It was going to be a bitch to cover up. You weren't even sure you had enough concealer to do the job! You groaned with annoyance and decided to step in the shower, stewing in your feelings the entire time. 

The door of the room opened as you stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy towel. Bret had a plastic convenience store hanging by his side. You decided to forgo the towel and tossed it onto the bed, leaving you bare in front of him. 

"Are you trying to kill me?" He teased. 

"Me?! What about you, Dracula?" You angrily pointed towards the hickey. The effect of anger was kind of lost on Bret considering you were naked and partially dripping wet. 

Bret pulled the collar of his shirt to the side. He was also sporting an angry looking bruise. Embarrassment wasn't a strong enough word for how you felt. When he let go of his shirt the purpleish edges of the hickey still creeped past the collar. He really went to the store with it showing to the world. Something about you marking him as yours, him marking you as his, was very, very sexy. And kind of sweet. 

"If I'm Dracula what does that make you?"

"A fool who spoke too soon. I can't believe you actually walked around outside with that giant hickey on your neck."

Bret shrugged. "Well I had to get these for us." Bret reached into the bag and pulled out two tubes of concealer. "The girl at the store giggled when I asked where it was." 

You laughed at him too, softly and with appreciation in your voice.

---

"Do you wanna come to my room and watch your favorite scary movie with me?" You gave up on the Ghostface voice halfway through your invitation. Playing with lines from Scream was becoming a little game between the two of you. 

"Sure, as long as I get to be the one that does the stabbing."

"Ew, that was corny." You rolled your eyes at him but laughed as he grabbed you into a hug backstage. It turned out that you two both sucked at applying concealer because everyone could tell that you two both had spent the night together. From the way you avoided each other that fateful day, they assumed you'd been sleeping together for a little while. The other wrestlers ribbed the both of you about your relationship, peppering in statements like:

Oh, I knew the whole time. 

Who were you fooling?

I'm telling on you to Vince!

Somehow Vince was the last to know. When he finally found out by seeing you two hug, he was more upset that he couldn't figure it out before that moment then he was about the actual relationship. The bubble had popped on your secret. You didn't have to hide any more. 

"Now we don't have to worry about the concealer any more." Bret said in a voice low enough for only you to hear. You smiled and kissed his cheek, no longer worried about the consequences of you being together.

#bret hart #bret hart x reader #bret hart fanfic #bret hart smut #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wwe imagine #wwe bret hart #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

It Takes Two To Tango

(not my gif!)

18+, Billy Gunn x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 2,592

Tags: Oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, swallowing, trying to be quiet, secret relationship

Additional characters: Ken Shamrock, Jim Ross, Jerry Lawler, Vince McMahon

Summary:

Your real life relationship with Billy Gunn begins to pick up steam on TV. Your kayfabe boyfriend, Ken Shamrock, doesn’t like what he sees.

“JR, you see the way Gunn looks at me when I enter the ring! Always trying to peek under my skirt. I’m not having it any more.”

“That bastard really shouldn’t be treating a young lady like you in that way.”

“Well with the way she dresses, what do you expect?! I wouldn’t be able to contain myself either!”

“You’re such an old pervert, King.” Your voice crackled over the mic.

You readjusted the headphones squeezing your ears. This was your first time on commentary and it was a lot more fun than you expected. A hell of a lot more fun than interviewing backstage. Even with Vince yelling  in your ear the whole time, the banter between you, JR, and Jerry made it all worth it. It was also nice to get a break from standing around in your heels. You watched Billy enter the ring doing his spiel. It never got old and the crowd seemed to agree.

“… then I’ve got two words for ya!”

“SUCK IT!”

Billy thrusted, then pointed right at you.

“Can you abide by this?!” You turned your head to JR, your eyebrows scrunched up in overplayed annoyance while your voice raised a pitch. The camera caught JR shaking his head and Jerry laughing like a hyena.

Billy was up against Ken Shamrock. After dealing with Val Venis trying to corrupt his sister Ryan, Ken had gotten himself involved in a love triangle with you and Billy. So far he’d won in the ring, but he hadn’t been able  to capture your affections outside of it. Despite his gentlemanly behavior defending you against Billy’s lewd presence, the blond still edged him out. He was never exceptionally rude, just flirtatious in the way that confident people can be. It (unfortunately) was still working on you even though you knew he was no good.

Just as Billy geared up to do his signature Fame-asser, Ken managed to get out of the way. He got Billy with a clothesline and was close to getting him in position for an ankle lock, but Billy rolled out of the ring in a graceful flash. His eyes immediately focused on you, his stride long and slightly wounded as he made his way over. The mics on the table picked up his words.

“Stop distracting me over here before I have to teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, please. Maybe become a better wrestler and you won’t have such an issue with distractions.”

Jerry’s high pitched voice let out an “Oh! OH!” Vince was close to blowing out your eardrums on the other end of the headphones.

“SHUT UP, YOU’RE ONLY OUT THERE TO LOOK CUTE.”

Billy huffed, close to being out of breath. You were supposed to be on Shamrock’s side. He was the good guy. He was the one who treated you with some respect. But that was so boring. Poor Ken.

Billy walked away, pointing at you again and gesturing towards his crotch. He re-entered the ring to struggle with Shamrock for a few minutes before finally being subjected to the ankle lock. Billy tried his hardest, but ultimately tapped out.

It was hard to hear over the cheers.

“How’re you gonna reward your boyfriend?!” Jerry asked, his voice keeping that hysteric note to it. You wonder where he got the energy from.

“Don’t worry about what I’ll do to him!”

You took the headset off in a rush and scrambled from behind the announcers table. You were almost in the ring, crouching down to get between the ropes, when Billy grabbed you from outside of it. He pressed his heaving chest to yours and began to whisper in your ear.

“I know you want me. You gonna let me make you feel good later?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his words even though they made heat pool down below. Wriggling out his tight hold took some effort. With a quick flicker of your eyes up and down his well toned body, something you were sure you’d catch some heat for, you turned away to run to congratulate Ken. He looked at you with a tired sort of skepticism as you planted kisses across his face that were more subdued than the crowd expected.

----------

Backstage, you thought about the night so far. Even though Vince treated you like a puppy that piddled on the nice rug, you were sure that this wouldn’t ruin your push. He didn’t immediately leave gorilla to fire you after it was all said and done. The love triangle was getting good pops. Ken looked sympathetic from losing his sister and girlfriend in quick succession. Billy was establishing himself as a worthy competitor. You were getting the chance to show off your personality, something you hoped to pivot into more in-ring action. Everyone won!

Well, everyone except Ken.

His steps were heavy as he approached you. It took a second to register that he was even there, your head so up in the clouds that your vision blurred into a watercolor painting.

“What the hell was that with you and Billy?”

“What was what?”

Ken was a lot more upset than you thought. This was nothing but an angle! You two had tried to go on a few dates, sure. There was no spark between you two. At least on your end. He was handsome and he was sorta funny…? In the end, he just didn’t do it for you. Whatever it was, that special X factor, Shamrock didn’t have it. Billy did.

“You and Billy at the end of the damn match. Are you two fucking?”

You weren’t going to let his sour mood ruin your high. He should’ve been happy the match went so well. Plus, he knew the deal— you were only dating on screen, and that was barely. A few decent dates don’t make a relationship.

“Is that really any of your business?”

“Are you?”

“You’re so nosy, Ken. No, Billy and I aren’t fucking since you want to know so badly. And I’ll say it one more time just so you feel reassured—“ Your voice rose.

“—I AM NOT FUCKING BILLY GUNN. You know I’m also not fucking? You. So don’t worry about what or who I’m doing in my free time, alright?”

“Yeah, alright. You just watch out and don’t get hurt.” Ken’s face was stony as he turned to walk away from you. You didn’t know he cared that much about you. That clouded up your thoughts again. You started to wallow in confusion when Billy rounded a corner. He had a smug smile painting his face walking up to you.

“Heard we weren’t fucking. You don’t know how sad that makes me.”

“Geez, I said that so loud you heard me?”

“Well I only paid attention ‘cause I misheard and thought you said that we would be.”

“Yeah, you definitely misheard.” He was pulling you right into his little flirtatious back and forth.

“That’s too bad. I’ve got a few things I wanna do to you that I wasn't allowed to say on TV.”

“Mmhmm, I sure bet you do.” Your voice was a whisper.

Gunn was undeniably sexy, an even tan contrasting with his blond hair. His  long legs looked powerful, like he really could fuck you as hard he did his taunt. His height wasn’t intimidating or foreboding. There was something in the way you had to look up at him, a spark that turned you on beyond belief.

“You know,” Billy popped his gum. “I heard Vince is gonna do a poll in the next issue of the magazine. ‘Who’ll be the next hot couple in the WWF?’ You think he’ll put you and Ken or you and me?”

A playful smile spread on his face. You lightly slapped him on the chest, then made a frown at hearing Ken’s name. He was the last thing you wanted on your mind.

“Vince probably isn’t too happy with me right now.”

“Was he screaming at you?”

“Absolutely.”

“I could hear it even all the way from where I was. You’ll be fine. He gives all the pretty ones a pass.”

“I see you’re using that famous charm of yours on me.”

“Yeah, is it working?”

You laughed and rose up to place a long kiss on his cheek. It was a kiss that the audience sure would’ve liked to see you give Ken. You bristled as the thought slid through your mind, but it was dashed away by Billy’s hand slowly sliding down to palm at your ass. His favorite way to tease you out on the mat was by doing anything he could to take a nice look at it. There were many times when he got hard just thinking about bending you over.

“Why don’t you let me tell you what was on my mind earlier?”

Billy got dangerously close to reaching under your skirt, his fingers caressing your skin with more gentleness than you expected. It made your head swim with dirty thoughts and lit a fire within.

----------

You bit down so hard your lip it started to bleed a bit. You had to keep your mouth shut! With the attention Billy was paying to your clit, his tongue swirling around it at an unhurried pace, it was hard to keep quiet. A buzzing feeling coursed through your body that made your nerves clench up in ecstasy. Billy’s eyes stayed glued on your tortured expression above him, the twisting of your features making his cock twitch. Little moans escaped you with every lick of his tongue.

“You’ve gotta be quieter if you want me to keep going.” He stopped, noisily releasing suction from your clit.

“Are you serious? Don’t stop, someone might catch us if we take too long.”

“They will catch us if you don’t try to keep your voice down.”

“I’ll be quieter,” Your voice was filled with grit.

You didn’t even finish the short sentence as Billy returned to eating you out. It took your all not to make a sound, especially when he grabbed your hips to pull you closer into him. You collapsed onto your elbows and threw your head back, feeling like you were ready to explode. It was hard to stay silent when he was giving you his all. Gunn kept his promise when he told you he’d make you feel good.

The heel of your shoe kicked against his back. It was the only way you could express how close you were to your orgasm. You could’ve sworn Billy smiled as he stopped again.

“You gonna come for me?”

You shook your head yes frantically.

“Tell me.”

The look you gave him could only be described as pointed.

“I’m gonna come for you, Billy.” You were close to losing your composure. You didn’t want to whisper, you wanted to scream.

Seconds later he was back and taking you over the edge. You completely collapsed on the desk below you, your legs shaking then going limp as Billy kept licking. He finally stopped but not before leaving a kiss on your oversensitive spot.

With one swoop he picked you up, your legs wrapping against him with no second thought. He carried you with ease and pressed your back against the office door. You watched as his lips moved in to kiss your neck, the feeling of his breath against your skin shooting through you like lightning. It was almost overwhelming how great his body felt against yours. As if it was meant for you to be pressed that close together.

“Shhh,” Billy hushed you as he slowly pushed inside you. His preparation wasn’t enough for you to mentally prepare yourself. A loud moan filled the room, spurring him on to thrust fast and deep into you. How he could do this while holding you up was beyond you. Your assumption about his legs was happily proven right as he maintained a good, hard rhythm.

Gunn’s hand quickly reached up to pull down the neck of your dress, your breasts suddenly exposed to the cold air of the room. The chill brought you back down from the stars. Billy tore his gaze away from your face to stare at the bounce of your tits, the mesmerized expression on his face giving you a boost of confidence.

“Fuck, you look so good.”

You buried your head in his shoulder and moaned again, deep and primal. For purely selfish reasons, he didn’t want you moaning. Of course didn’t want you to get in trouble… but he also knew he’d come too fast if he heard your voice making the noises he so loved to hear. It was too late. You were past the point of no return and didn’t care who heard you.

His tongue found itself back around yours. The sloppy kiss pushed you to the next level. His urgency was so hot, it was like he just couldn’t contain himself around you. You could always count on Billy to make you feel wanted.

“Gonna... oh my God,” You breathed right into his ear. As soon as you said it, every muscle in your body compressed. No one else was ever going to make  you come harder than he did, a fact he would have loved to lord over you if he knew it. Just when you were beginning to remember where you were, Billy pulled out of you and pushed you on to your knees.

“Where?” Gunn stroked himself with a tight grip, his words strained. His cock was still shiny from your wetness. It was hypnotizing.

You opened wide to take Billy down your throat with perfect timing. He released hot, your mouth getting coated while you sucked him down. Now it was your turn to look up at him, his lips parted in awe. He caressed your cheek with the same gentleness from earlier. When he began to soften, you took his cock out of his mouth to get a good look at it. It was beautiful, one thin vein running down the long length of it. The way you gazed at it made his heart thump loudly in his chest.

Your brain struggled to form words as he helped you up. His hand held yours as if he was escorting you to a debutante ball instead of picking you up after he came in your mouth. It did feel equally as magical.

“Now imagine how good I am when I have a bed.” Somehow he snuck a new piece of gum in his mouth when you weren’t looking.

“That’s an invitation, I assume.”

“Yeah, for tonight actually.”

The two of you put your clothes back on in a rush. It wasn’t a secret that you two were fucking. If it was, it was poorly guarded. You just didn’t want to deal with Ken actually catching you with that post-sex disheveled look. The two of you at least needed to be cordial to make it all believable on television. There was a little part of you that hoped Vince really would couple you and Billy on the magazine poll. Maybe you two would win and get paired together.

Stepping out of the office, you and Billy looked around. No one walking by, no one hanging out. Perfect.

“Don’t think about me too much before tonight. Save the stamina.” It was hard to play it cool when you knew that you’d be replaying everything he did to you for the next few hours.

Billy’s laugh echoed down the hall while he walked away from you.

#billy gunn x reader #billy gunn #wrestling #wwe imagines #wwe smut #wrestling smut #wrestling fanfic #wwe fanfic #wwf #wwe billy gunn #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Don’t Stop

18+, Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Tags: Daddy kink, brat Shawn

Word count: 841

Summary:

Shawn just needs some good old fashioned fun. What better way to get it then by acting a little bratty with Bret?

“I fucking love you Bret.”

The air was sucked out of the room in an instant. Did Shawn really just say that? No, he couldn’t have. The sex was so mind blowing that Bret was just imagining things, he had to be. He questioned the statement with a slow thrust inside of Shawn. The feeling of the larger man’s cock brushing against his prostate made Shawn whine. 

“You love me?”

“Well— your dick. Not so much you.”

Ouch. 

Bret smacked Shawn’s toned ass so hard it was probably going to leave a bruise. Thankfully he had the foresight not to do it on the tattooed cheek. He wanted to slide out of him right then and there. Why should he keep making him feel good when he was being such a jerk? He knew how the blond could be sometimes, choosing the exact words that would push his buttons. It was time to put a stop to that. Bret roughly wrapped his fingers in Shawn’s wavy hair and pulled his head back. His other hand remained on Shawn’s hip, fingers digging deeply into his flesh.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Apologize.”

Another whimper escaped from Shawn at the feeling of being pressed against Bret’s chest. Shawn did mean it— he loved Bret. Was even ready to admit that he was in love with him. But he didn’t want the mushy, overly romantic sex that those words brought. Tonight all he wanted was to get fucked. So he pushed the feelings aside and turned up the attitude.

“Say sorry, Shawn. Or I’ll pull out right now.” The strained disappointment in Bret’s voice strengthened his accent. It made Shawn smile so big he looked delirious. 

“Ugh, okay. I’m sorry. Keep fucking me.” 

There was so little sincerity in Shawn’s voice Bret wondered why he even bothered to pretend. If they had a mirror in front of them he’d probably see Shawn rolling his eyes, and not for the reasons they were supposed to be rolling.  

“Why should I? That wasn't — good — enough.” Bret moved to wrap his arm around Shawn’s stomach. His words were followed by hard, slow strokes. Strands of his brunette hair stuck to his sweaty forehead in anticipation. After a too long moment of silence, Bret agonizingly began to pull out of him. 

“Please, please, please don’t stop, daddy. I’m sorry.”

That was new. It was so new and so hot Bret chose to ignore how extremely not sorry Shawn was. 

Bret’s brown eyes zeroed in on Shawn’s cock as soon as “daddy” left his mouth. It twitched and leaked, a pretty picture that made Bret’s vision white out. Shawn must have been waiting a long time to call him that. As soon as Bret heard it, he started to pound away. Tears of pleasure built in the corners of Shawn’s eyes that Bret reached up to wipe away. His voice was almost primal as he growled right into Shawn’s ear.  

“You like how daddy makes you feel, huh? Is that why you’re acting like this?” 

He’d never heard him sound like that before. They’d had some passionate, intense sessions in the past. Escapades that were enough to make Shawn blush when they randomly came to mind. Nothing like this. Shawn made a note to himself that he’d have to put the brat act on more often.

“I love it, I love you, fuck, Bret —“

Shawn felt Bret release hot inside of him. His scalp was starting to ache like a motherfucker from the iron grip Bret had on his hair. It was worth it though to hear his worn out breathing. Shawn laughed to himself; he knew he was the only one who could make the other man feel that way. Whether Bret wanted to admit it or not. 

Bret shoved Shawn back down on the bed hard. He laid there in the soft, white sheets not saying a word. His head was swirling way too much to come up with a quip. 

“‘I love you daddy.’ You don’t know how pathetic you sounded.” Bret tried to mock him, tried to act like the disgust was real. Really, he wanted to hear Shawn say it one more time. Maybe two or three more times. An infinite amount of times wouldn’t be bad, either. The way Shawn’s normally deep, gravel-lined voice hitched up an octave or two when Bret began to grind into him would be etched in his memory forever. 

“Psh, you liked it. Don’t even act like you didn’t.” 

Shawn lifted his head up and turned his sparkling blue eyes to Bret’s tired face. He winked and let his head fall back into the sheets with a plop. Blond hair shook down and across his shoulders as he rolled onto his back, cock hard and already wanting more. The charm was on in full force and Bret was having a hard time not indulging him. 

“You wanna go again, daddy? I promise I’ll be good this time.” Shawn laughed, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

#bret hart x shawn michaels #bretshawn #shawn michaels #bret hart #wrestling #wrestling fanfic #wrestling smut #hartbreak #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Hard Candy

(not my gif!)

18+, Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader one shot 

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: ~1.5k

Tags: teasing, semi-public foreplay, foodplay (just candy), hair pulling, enemies to... hooking up? definitely not lovers lol

Summary: 

You and Shawn hash out the tension between the two of you the best way you know how.

"What are you eating?"

The small hard candy swirled around your mouth idly. It was almost too sweet. Your teeth would thank you later by aching.

"Jolly Rancher."

His eyes fell to your full lips as you continued to suck on the sweet. These things lasted forever, you both thought.

"What flavor?" Shawn was beginning to grow impatient at your cool attitude. Why weren't you falling head over heels for him like the other girls?

You finally decide to look away from the TV screen in front of you, dragging your eyes dramatically to his. He's not that much taller than you. Your jaw moves slightly with every rotation of the candy. Shawn's strong arms reached behind him to readjust the hair band holding his ponytail. It took a superhuman amount of willpower to not watch him.

"Cherry."

"Gross. That's the worst flavor."

"It's a good thing you're not the one eating it then, huh?" Your head cocked to the side, lips moving into a snarl, hip poked out. This playground bullying act from the Heartbreak Kid was wearing very thin. Ever since you joined the Monday Night Raw roster, Shawn started chasing you around just the same way he did with all the new women. You refused to fall for the antics and chose to ignore him best you could. Tales through the grapevine told you that he kept running to Vince for the two of you to have a romance storyline; as far as you were concerned, that was your worst nightmare. No one would take you seriously after it and you'd really start falling for the jerk.

"I can smell it from here." His deep voice was faux disgusted. Yes, he could smell the strong artificial cherry scent just by standing next to you. It was actually driving him insane thinking about the way the candy moved in your mouth. Inappropriate thoughts of your mouth on his... your mouth on him, his on you, lips together-- distracted him from his goal. He wanted to make you crack. He didn't care if you got pissed and started cursing him out, he just needed to see you have some response. Anything was better than nothing.

You couldn't help but to scoff. "Oh please, you cannot. Stop being a baby."

Deep down, you did like knowing that you had this man come undone when he was around you. You pretended like you didn't like the chase and attention, but you loved it. Shawn was very persistent. It could be annoying sometimes when you were trying to make a real name for yourself. Then he'd manage to crack a joke and you'd have to stifle a giggle or hide a smile.

"I can. I wouldn't have thought a girl like you would be such a sugar junkie."

Now your interest was piqued, even though your gaze returned to the screen. "And why is that?"

"You're so… cold. A damn stick in the mud. Candy seems too colorful and fun for you." Shawn had you right where he wanted you. That accent of his definitely got you going, to your annoyance. In another world maybe he'd be a drill sergeant yelling at his cadets everyday.

Your eyes rolled around your head so hard you thought they'd fall out like marbles. Why was this childish taunting making you so upset? You twisted around to face him again, eyes darting from his lips to his eyes. The corners of his mouth seemed to want to curl into a smile, but instead remained straight. Almost got you… he thought.

"You're only saying I'm boring because I haven't fucked you yet." The words came out sufficiently venomous, you thought.

"Yet?"

Got her!

For a second, just one second, your brain short circuited at the words that left your mouth.

Yet.

Yet yet yet yet yet yet--

An unexpected growl rose from deep within you. You wanted it to come out threatening so you looked like a force to be reckoned with. Instead, halfway through it ended up a squeak. You went from sounding like an angry tiger to a bratty teenager who wasn't allowed to go to the mall. Shawn wondered which noises you made more in bed, the high pitched squeaky ones or the deep growly ones. The prospect of hearing either of them or even both began to make him hard.

"Ugh! Fuck you, Shawn."

"Any time." There was that pretty boy smile of his that all the ladies fell for.

The rubberband of mixed up feelings finally snapped inside of you. All of the lust, anger, and tension came to their peak. Your brows furrowed at the thoughts rushing through your mind. Fuck it, what was there to lose?

Acting on autopilot, you braced your hands against Shawn's chest and backed him into the nearest wall. He was pretty sure you were going to knock him out. Staring into each other's eyes for what seemed like a moment too long was just enough time to catch him off guard with a press of your lips to his.

One hand clenched into the fabric of his thin t-shirt, while the other reached down to massage his hardness through his pants. The cherry Jolly Rancher managed to move from your mouth to his and the satisfied part of your brain noted that you weren't hearing any complaints about how gross it was. In fact, he was enjoying it a lot. Shawn's hips bucked into you involuntarily, your hand squeezing around him. His arm wrapped around your waist to press you closer to him. His frustration built at your choice of location for this escapade. It wasn't the right time or place to really give you what he'd wanted to for so long.

The candy got smaller and smaller as the two of you continued to kiss. Your tongues each rolled around the candy and met with each other's, making the kiss sickly sweet. His hands tangled into your hair, then moved down to caress your back before beginning to palm your ass. The fabric of your pants were so thin he could feel the seams of your thong through them.

Shawn pushed off the wall and leaned into you, your head falling back as his lips moved down your neck. Your hand was still rubbing against him, mind telling you to undo the button and zipper to pull it out. The DX strip poker segment gave you an idea of how big he was but you wanted to see just for yourself what was driving the other women crazy. Now wasn't the time, though. Your logical side was unfortunately very much on. The candy was now in his mouth.

His eyes met yours again while your hands played around in his hair to remove the ponytail holder. His lips kissed against your cleavage. It was another thing that drove him crazy about you, the way you wore low cut shirts around him. You always had to readjust your bra or pull down the shirt a little more when he happened to be around. Your teasing was subconscious while his was very much forward. You felt the beginning of a hickey coming on and it drew a moan out of you. Oops.

"Oh my god, okay." You both had to stop. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you gripped and moved his head away from your chest. His dick twitched at the sensation of you grabbing at the root. Could he make you do that while he was inside--?

Your fingers snapped in his face as you let go of him. There was a pout present on his face that made your panties get wetter. Did he really want to fuck you that badly? Heat flushed your cheeks.

"Don't. Tell. Anyone. About this! No one!"

The usually cocky playboy demeanor was back in a flash. Shawn cleared his throat and finished off the rest of the Jolly Rancher. "Hey, do I look like the kiss-and-tell type?" He winked at you.

"I'm serious. Just… if you stay quiet maybe we can do it again." You waved your hand away and rushed out the last few words.

Shawn held his hand up to his ear and raised his eyebrows mockingly. "Huh? What was that? You wanna do it again? Of course you do." His laugh was triumphant.

You took the hair band off your wrist and gathered Shawn's hair behind him tightly. His dick twitched again while you twisted the band around his hair.

"You're lucky you're cute 'cause you can be a real asshole sometimes."

You heard your name being called over a nearby walkie-talkie. A production assistant poked their head in the room to tell you you were needed in makeup. With a turn on the heel of your boot, you followed them out. You turned one more time to face Shawn, who left you with a kissy face and him grabbing his dick.

"Ugh." It was your turn now to be fake disgusted, smiling to yourself as you walked away.

Shawn's hands ran over his hair to smooth it down. The ghost of the cherry candy was still in his mouth and on his lips. It was his new favorite now.

#shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels #shawn michaels fanfic #shawn michaels smut #shawn michaels x oc #wrestling fic #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #lil nervous bout this one lol #wwe imagines #wwe imagine #wwe shawn michaels #wrestling #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Awakening

18+, Shawn Michaels x Sycho Sid one shot

[Also available on Archive on Our Own!]

Tags: Mild S&M, semi-public sex, biting, hair pulling, hickeys, face slapping, scratching, come eating, creampie

Word count: 2483

Summary:

Shawn helps a reluctant Sid discover something new about himself.

There was something about Sid that intrigued Shawn. He would’ve liked to think it was purely a physical thing, but he knew there was something else lurking in the recesses of his mind. Sid was a big guy, so big that Shawn had to tilt his head up to look at him. That always did it for him— a bigger man could toss him around like a little ragdoll, just the way he liked it. If someone had asked him though, his excuse was that those tall guys with huge muscles were also perfect bodyguards. With the shenanigans Shawn was always managing to get himself into, a protector with a threatening aura was necessary. So that was his excuse for running after one aptly named “Sycho” Sid, not that he wanted to ride him until his legs went numb. 

Of course, not all guards were built the same. Shawn was devastated when Diesel decided he was through with him. The former trucker was perfect in his role as Shawn’s muscle. He managed to bring Shawn down a level when he got too rowdy, never instigated any fights on his behalf, and only took violent action when needed. He was a good companion too, a good friend who always had something funny or interesting to say. The cherry on top of it all was that he was a great lay, maybe the best Shawn had ever had. Sid on the other hand… Well, he wasn’t especially known for being charismatic. No one could ever replace Diesel in that department, Shawn realized. On top of that, Sid loved to fight. It seemed like Shawn was ending altercations more than starting them nowadays. Sid didn’t seem to be the least bit interested in him sexually either, but it was hard to tell for sure. 

“Hey, you’re dripping all over my hair,” Shawn complained backstage as he felt big droplets of Sid’s sweat plop down on him. “I just got it done and you’re already ruining it.”

“Hush, don’t start cryin’ like you always do.”

Even though he had a few choice words he would’ve liked to tell Sid, Shawn kept his mouth shut. The two were already on thin ice. For what reason? Shawn didn’t know. He hadn’t been any more of a jerk than usual, he thought. There was no telling what was on Sid’s mind, if he was even capable of thinking that much. There was no point in pissing off a man that much larger and crazier than him, even though he really really really wanted to. Sid may not have had much to offer in the personality department, but his reactions to the world around him were interesting enough that Shawn felt like the risk was worth it. 

“Don’t you forget who runs things around here, big man. It’s me, not you. You use that half a brain you have to remember that, got it?”

“You little asshole, you can’t tell me shit about shit!”

Shawn felt Sid’s large fingers intertwine themselves in his hair, pulling his neck and body harshly so that his back was pressed against Sid’s chest. He tried his best to angle his neck up and around to see just what he expected— Sid’s unblinking eyes as wide as dinner plates staring straight into him. 

“I’m sick and tired of your disrespect. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m Shawn Michaels.” 

Shawn smiled wide and spit his gum right into Sid’s face. The chewed up white mass bounced off of Sid’s nose and onto the ground in a charged moment. As Sid flickered his eyes away to watch it fall by his shoe, Shawn took advantage of his lessened grip to pull out of his grasp and run towards gorilla. He thought of all the things he hated (losing the title belt, Vince not paying attention to him, running out of liquor) to keep his cock from getting harder at the way Sid grabbed his hair, but the slightly painful sensation kept tingling his scalp in an appealing way. Now he knew exactly what he’d get out of keeping his unhinged bodyguard around. 

---

"Sid, I want to apologize for my behavior the other night. You were right, I was being an asshole and you didn't deserve that."

Sid looked everywhere but at Shawn. He looked at the battered old cars in the diner's parking lot, at the line cook in the kitchen mumbling some tune, at the runny egg yolk that was beginning to congeal into an unappealing yellow gel across remnants of his hash browns. His eyes sliding all over the place sent a twinge of annoyance zipping through Shawn's body. What, did Sid think he was too good for an apology from The Showstopper himself?

"Even though you were a little out of line," Shawn paused to drink his sugary black coffee. "I don't think you would've gotten that way if I didn't start the whole mess."

"Out of line." 

Sid continued to poke at his less-than-spectacular breakfast. The only reason he even agreed to go out to eat with Shawn and not with his real friends was because Shawn said he was paying. Knowing that, Sid decided to let the situation go.

"Okay Shawn, I accept your apology. I'll try not to react so quick next time."

"Great! And please be more careful about my hair. It's what the ladies come to see, so it's gotta be at its best. Costs a lot of money to get done, too."

"Mm-hmm." 

It was in Sid's best interest to ignore and placate Shawn's vanity, so he did just that with a terse nod. Luckily for him, their waitress breezed by with a fresh pot of coffee and topped them off before continuing on her way.

"You know how I know you really are 'psycho'? No one's ever been crazy enough to pull my hair the way you did. Not that hard at least. Sometimes when I'm walking out to the ring I feel people tugging at it, but never like what you did. I mean, you almost lifted me off the ground."

Shawn laughed somewhat deliriously. He was trying his hardest to be subtle, not really caring if it landed since Sid probably wouldn't catch it anyways. There wasn't a great need to segway into this subject with grace.

"Didn't mean to hurt you, just wanted you to be quiet."

"Oh no, you didn't hurt me! Not at all, come on. I'm not that much of a pussy."

Finally, Shawn managed to elicit a laugh from Sid. It was nothing more than a small huff of air, but it was still a win in Shawn's book even if he had to make fun of himself to get it.

"I mean, I could still feel my head aching a little later. I didn't mind though," Shawn clumsily dumped more sugar into his coffee. 

"You didn't mind what? The pain?"

Shawn let his eyes blink rapidly, cutely, demurely while his head tilted to the side.

"Between that and all the sugar you put in that cup, I think you're the crazy one, Michaels."

With that, Sid exited the booth and walked out of the diner and into the warm night air. He rushed himself back to the dark end of the large parking lot to their car. What kind of freak was Shawn? He liked pain? It just didn't make any sense to Sid. His mind whirred with reasons why anyone would like that kind of stuff as he slid into the backseat of the car. Only a minute later, Shawn opened the car door opposite of him and situated himself almost right into his lap.

"You sure did make me look bad in there with the way you ran out."

Despite not being able to see much of his expression in the dark, Sid knew Shawn was kidding. Now that the ice that Sid didn't even know existed had been broken, Shawn seemed to relax. 

"I don't understand, what do you get out of being hurt?"

"I don't know, it feels good. What else can I say besides that I like it?"

"But why?"

"Ugh, what does it matter, Sid? Actually, I'm surprised you even think this way about it. You look like you're halfway to coming whenever you knock someone out at the bar."

"That's different. I don't get anything sexual out of that."

"Yeah, right. Like I'm supposed to believe you've never gotten a little turned on smacking someone around?"

A long beat of silence filled the small space of the car.

"I think you've just answered my question, big man."

Shawn once again felt Sid's fingers wrap in his hair. This time his head was being pulled into Sid's lap face up, the off-white far away glow of the diner's interior brightening up his eyes while he looked up at him. 

"You like this?"

Shawn tried his best to nod. 

"What about this?"

Sid yanked harshly at Shawn's locks, pulling some kind of needy noise out from him. Immediately his hand moved to rub at his cock while he tried to keep his breathing steady.

"I love it, I love it. Harder."

It was hard for Sid to resist the way Shawn was sounding below him. 

"Let me get on top of you," Shawn exhaled shallowly as he wiggled his way out of Sid's grip. He took his time to straddle Sid's lap, grinding against him before firmly planting himself against his cock. Running his hands against the thin fabric of Sid's shirt, he shook his hair around and bounced playfully up and down against him in an attempt to loosen his nerves. 

"Come on, Sid, don't be so uptight. Have some fun with me."

Shawn pulled his jeans off and unzipped Sid to reached to line up his cock against himself. He expected him to be big, but was shocked at how thick his cock was.  

“You’re my bodyguard, you’re supposed to protect me,” Shawn pouted. 

“How is—” Sid groaned when he felt the tight rim of Shawn’s hole. “Any of this… protection?”

“You’re keeping me from doing this with some stranger who might not stop if I’m in too much pain.”

“I guess so, fuck.”

Sid pushed away any opposing thoughts as soon as Shawn slammed down onto him. Shawn saw stars behind his eyes with every roll down against Sid’s dick. He let his lids shut as he realized the only thing Sid and Diesel had in common (besides their job titles) was being blessed with a perfectly sized cock. The stretch of him was just on this side of too much, even more so with the lack of lube he had. 

“God, Sid.” Shawn’s mouth fell open at the feeling of Sid’s fingertips digging deep into the supple skin of his ass. Frantically he reached for Sid’s free hand and clung onto his wrist, dragging his hand up to his scruffy jaw and smacking it against his face lightly. 

“Slap me, come on. You afraid to? Too scared to actually hit me?”

That same laugh Sid dreaded hearing because he knew Shawn was about to start running his mouth filled the rocking car. He did his best to keep control and not give fully to Shawn’s perversions. Not just for his own sake, but so Shawn couldn’t lord this escapade over his head until the end of time. 

“You’re supposed to be so big and bad but you can’t even give me a little slap. Maybe I need to find someone else to do your job.”

The sting of Sid’s palm hitting Shawn’s face made butterflies build in his stomach. Past experience had shown Shawn that taunting always worked. Sid slapped him again, a less aggressive and more attention grabbing affair. 

“You always shut up… when I...”

Sid’s words went in one ear and out of the other. Shawn was too busy leaning forward into him and running his hands through his curly hair. Sid was thankful for the maneuver as he didn’t want Shawn to see even the barest semblance of pleasure in his features, even with the dim lighting. His hands moved up and down Shawn’s back, switching between grabbing his hips and fucking up into him to running his fingertips up the tanned expanse of skin. Shawn’s dick twitched strong against Sid’s stomach when he felt shallow scratch marks against his back. 

“Should I scratch harder? Leave marks on you?”

Shawn almost huffed in annoyed frustration before he felt Sid sucking hard against his neck. As good as it felt, he knew he’d be in trouble if he left too big of a mark. The makeup girls had a hard enough time covering some of his past love bites, and Shawn was sure this was going to be the worst yet. The feeling of Sid’s teeth sinking into him negated any potential consequences he’d have to face. 

Sid’s fingers traveled up to Shawn’s shoulders one last time to leave long, deep scratches all the way down to the small of his back. A string of curse words that surprisingly made Sid blush from the sudden vulgarity rushed out from Shawn as ropes of his come painted Sid’s upper torso and chest. His softening cock didn’t stop him from continuing to move up and down on Sid, who seemed to be using all his focus on trying not to come yet. 

“Damn.” Sid took one long glance at Shawn’s beautiful thighs and his own dick sliding in and out of the man above him and had to shut his eyes. Shawn stayed still when he felt Sid beginning to release inside of him. His come filled Shawn more than he thought it would, causing him to abruptly pull out and accidentally leak out on the backseat. 

“Now this car is christened with us forever.” Shawn kissed Sid’s cheek quickly, then swiped his tongue across the come he’d left across his chest and swallowed it all down. 

“That’s wild. All of this was just… wild.” 

Sid shook his head and reached over to the nearest window to roll it down. The air outside of the car wasn’t much cooler, but at least it was fresher. 

“Your ‘wild’ is just a regular Saturday night for me. Although this was a much more fun version of it. You did have fun, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Sid pursed his lips in defeat.

“I’ve decided to extend your contract out as my guard, so get ready to have even more fun with me. That’s an order!” 

Shawn cleaned him and Sid up with some scratchy fast food restaurant napkins, then tossed them out of the open window. 

“Now, why don’t you get in that driver’s seat and take us to the next town? I think I’m gonna take a nap back here.”

Sid rubbed his temples. What had he gotten himself into?

#shawn michaels #sycho sid #wrestling #magnoliafanfic #wrestling smut #wwe fanfiction

[magnoliacharmed]

Employee of the Month

(not my gif!)

18+, Sting x Fem!Reader one shot smut

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: ~2.1k

Tags: Backstage sex, unprotected sex, facepaint (is that a tag that even makes sense... i mean the man’s whole thing is facepaint lmao), 

Summary:

Reader/you finally get acknowledged for your behind the scenes work in WCW by Sting.

Eric Bischoff was definitely getting his money worth hiring you as his personal assistant. That title sounded too professional, it had too much prestige to it. In reality, you were his gofer. Get me this, go for that, make this call, and before you go, don't forget to solve world hunger? You may not be in as good of shape as the wrestlers around you but with the running back and forth you did on a daily basis you were starting to build up some great stamina.

You rarely got to speak to the wrestlers you saw so often. For a good majority of the day you were glued to Bischoff's side constantly making little notes on your clipboard. They'd approach the both of you, sometimes tossing a short greeting your way. Then they'd talk to the boss and you were back to being in the shadows. You figured it was best this way. You didn't want to come off as a groupie or too eager. It was a dream come true to even get this job and you wanted to make sure you kept it.

As far as you knew, to everyone else around you were simply the world's most efficient ghost. Somehow things just got done. No one ever saw (noticed) you complete the tasks, but they managed to be finished. The only person in the company who actually acknowledged you, who actually remembered your name, was Sting. He was one of the biggest names WCW had. For someone with his amount of star power, he was a pretty nice guy. Whenever you rushed by him he said hello, asked how you were doing, all those general pleasantries. Despite his status you'd never really paid much attention to him before. That all changed after he began to speak to you more regularly. You began to look forward to seeing him. You felt sparks fly when he said your name.

Crap, you had a crush on him.

That was gonna make things difficult considering how often you had to see him.

Little did you know, he had a little bit of a crush on you too. He liked the way you held it together under pressure. Your crafty ways in solving problems. The fact that you minded your business and didn't get involved with the messiness that was other wrestlers' problems. They could be so overdramatic, acting as if they were still in high school. Your direct reporting to Bischoff kept you away from all that.

A knock on the locker room door made him whip his head around to see you standing in the doorway. You looked a little nervous, clipboard clutched to your chest and eyes wide. Some poker face you had.

"Ah, Mr. Borden? Mr. Bischoff sent me down here to assist you for the night?" Bischoff told you early that morning that just for the night, you'd be Sting's gofer instead of his. That was fine by you. You needed a break from the man and his many ideas. You wondered why tonight of all nights he decided to send you away.

"Oh yeah. I don't need much help but I'm happy you're around."

Now your heart was beating hummingbird fast.

Sting returned to the mirror to fix his hair. The way it flowed and moved mesmerized you more often than not. You sat down on the bench between the lockers and mirrors, quickly scribbling notes on some scratch paper. You had a feeling Eric was going to dump a lot of work on you tomorrow.

"You can call me Steve, you know. Or Sting. I don't mind either." He turned to smile at you. You could've melted into the floor right there. Your bashful smile and the involuntary movement you made of raising the clipboard to hide your face sent him reeling. Were you always this cute?

"Okay… Sting." You would've liked to call him by his real name but didn't feel comfortable. But how much more comfortable was calling him his stage name off-stage? You still weren't sure of the etiquette.

"Do me a favor? My makeup is in that locker behind you. Mind grabbing it for me?"

With a nod, you quickly got up to grab the black and white face paint out. You always liked the creative liberties he took with the designs. You handed off the jars to him, hands touching each other briefly.

Butterflies. Hummingbirds. Flames. Flooding?

Lust, too? Ugh, this was just too much to handle.

Sting felt it too. The touch was like unexpected thunder on a bright, cloudless day. Where did all that feeling come from?

"I like your… makeup. The designs. It's really cool. Kinda scary." You really hoped you didn't sound like a geek.

He smiled at you again. You could tell he was handsome underneath the facepaint and you were happy you were right.

"Thanks. I usually do it myself but I think I need some help tonight." His eyebrow raised up at you playfully.

Do not come undone!

"Oh! Oh, sure, I can help. It won't look as nice as what you do though. Just as a warning."

He handed you a brush and the white paint. Were your hands trembling? God, you hoped not. He smelled so good. Like strong men's body wash. It made you kind of wet.

Likewise, the smell of your shampoo wafted in his face as you leaned over in front of him. It was fruity, a scent that seemed a lot more exciting than what he expected. Sting realized now he never really thought about what you did outside of work. What kind of friends did you have? What's the last movie you saw? What turned you on?

Uh-oh. That last question came out of nowhere.

Sting looked forward at himself in the mirror as you covered his face in the white makeup. The smell of your hair and you bent over in front of him was driving him a little crazy. It wouldn't be a smart idea to fuck Bischoff's assistant. You're always in his ear. Really, you're was the one holding everything together. Whether or not everyone else realized that was anybody's guess. A quick glance down at your chest was the worst idea he could've had. The cut of your shirt didn't allow for a lot of view, but the glimpse he caught of your breasts was the last thing he needed to get rock hard.

He had a feeling you wouldn't ever make the first move. That's why he had to be the one to ask Bischoff for your assistance that night. Now he had to continue on, damn the consequences.

"I hope this position isn't too awkward for you." Sting's voice was a little hoarse. It made your breathing quicken.

"No, not all Mr. Borden-- Sting. Sorry. Hard habit to break." You gave him a lopsided "what can you do?" smile. The heat building between your legs was very distracting. The way you were bent over was making your knees lock up. You kicked your legs up behind you to move the muscles.

As soon as your right calf reached the air, Sting picked you up and sat you in his lap. He picked you up so easily too, like you were a bag of feathers in his arms. Suddenly your faces were inches away from each other, noses almost touching. His big hands rested on the small of your back.

"If you're uncomfortable, we can stop right here, right now. I'll leave you alone. I'll tell Eric you did a great job."

You shook your head no vigorously. There was no way you wanted to stop now.

Sting breathed in deeply. It was a combination of relief and restraint.

"Okay. Keep going with the makeup."

Words could not form correctly. You nodded and finished off the white paint. His grip around you was tight. You could feel just how hard he was against you, your warmth meeting his in a way that made your brain fuzzy. You twisted your body around to reach for a new brush and the black paint. The friction of you moving on top of him made him clear his throat.

The show would be starting soon. Now or never. When you twisted back to face him, brush and paint in hand, Sting lifted you just a fraction into the air. He was happy he chose not to wear the singlet tonight. With a swift and frantic motion he pushed down his pants to let his cock spring forth.

Your eyes widened at the sight. He was so hard. Precome leaked from the tip of him, glistening and wet.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck me

He pushed your own jeans down. He was pretty skillful with one hand, undoing the button and zipper with ease. You raised a leg up for him to push the pant leg down, freeing one side of you from the fabric. The sight of your crimson red lace panties made him pause. Again, another surprise. Very impractical underwear for such a practical person.

His eyes met yours. Sting finally let you sit back on his lap, dick pressing so dangerously close to you. He was on the verge of pushing inside of you.

"Keep applying… the paint." He breathed. His face might have looked blank but lust fired in his pupils.

Your hands were trembling now, no doubt about it. You clenched the brush and black paint with as much effort as you could. Painting around his eyes? No problem. You got it! The look was beginning to come together when--

"Holy shit," your moan was loud. Much louder than expected. The brush almost fell from your grip as the pad of Sting's thumb began to circle around your clit. He was moving so painfully slow, taking in the sight of you squirming above him. You threw your head back in ecstasy at the pressure building down below.

"Keep going," his voice had gotten deeper below you. How were you supposed to do a good job face painting while he rubbed your clit? It would just have to come out sloppy. You did a great job 100% of the time… one tiny slip up wasn't so bad.

Your voice turned to a whimper as Sting finally entered you. A string of curses rapidly escaped your lips, causing him to laugh. Tonight was the first time he'd heard you curse and it was all because of him. The man had a lot of girth. He stretched you out, massaging your walls with a practiced ease. You were putty in his hands. The warm wetness of you was close to too much to handle. The way your muscles clenched around his cock, the way you seemed to pull him deeper in you was unique. He'd never felt anyone like you before. Every stroke hit your spot perfectly.

Your breathing was heavy. The brush finally reached his lips and it was a struggle to get there. You tried your hardest to stay in the lines as his hands gripped your hips and pushed you up and down on him. You gushed over his pants, eyes rolling back in your head. Your hard work was for nothing. Your lips pressed down into his, fresh paint smearing across his face onto yours. You had enough time to fix it, he didn't come on until the show was almost over.

Good at kissing, good at fucking, good at wrestling. What a man, you thought as he pounded away at you.

Your body slammed against his. You hummed along with every push down onto him, fingers reaching to grab into his hair.

"Steve-- Sting-- ah, fuck," You began to mumble. The fact he had Bischoff's well composed cute assistant saying his name so passionately was enough to send him to the edge. The black and white paint smeared into a gray streak on your lips. Something about that sight was the final piece of the puzzle.

"Fuck," he growled. His come covered your insides, cock twitching with every spurt. Your own orgasm rocked you hard. Your legs shook below you and your fingers gripped even tighter at the roots of his hair. You grinded forward on his still hard dick, pushing his come deeper in you. His thumb finally left your clit while your breathing slowed down.

No feeling in your legs. Not a surprise. He raised you up again, one hand around your waist. His cock slid out of you so painfully slow that you whimpered at the feeling of cool air against your wetness.

He turned you around so you could face the mirror. The smear of makeup made you bury your head in your hands.

You were not supposed to fuck the talent!

But man, it felt good.

Sting laughed at your embarrassment. The bottom half of his face was gray now.

"Best makeup I've ever had." He smiled at your expressions in the mirror.

#sting #sting wcw #steve borden #sting fanfic #sting x reader #wcw #world championship wrestling #wcw fanfic #wcw fic #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wrestling #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Say What You Feel Inside

(not my gif!)

Bret Hart x McMahon sister reader (one shot)

[Also available of Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: ~1.2k

Tags: Public displays of affection, fluff, arguing, misunderstandings, flirting, declarations of love, family fluff

Summary:

As the oldest McMahon sister, your relationship with Bret Hart is fun, frustrating, and surprisingly sweet.

(Thank you for the request, anon!)

S. McMahon, the oldest McMahon sibling

You generally keep a cool, aloof disposition. You're dissimilar to your dad and siblings in that way

When you’re public facing you don’t tend to smile often or participate in a lot of fun and jokes

You stay behind the scenes for the most part. Vince let you be in charge of the women's makeup/hair/costuming. You enjoy it and denied the multiple promotions he tried to give you

After rejecting him so often, Vince stopped including you in major business decisions. He's hurt by your supposed lack of interest no matter how many times you try to tell him you like what you do and you do it well. He'll still will run ideas by you before he finalizes them, valuing your opinion even when he acts like he doesn't

When you first met Bret, you diffused arguments between him and Vince more often than you expected to

One day, Bret absentmindedly says "You're a lot different than your siblings." It feels nice to be acknowledged for your reserved nature instead of it being looked at as a negative

After he pushes your father to the mat on an episode of Monday Night Raw, you say "You're kind of an asshole Bret -- I like it." when he returns backstage.

He realizes that you're the one who even convinced Vince to let himself get pushed. (or at least, egged your father on. "C'mon Dad, the ratings will be so good!")

The first time you give him a compliment (about how you liked how fluffy his hair got by the end of a match), Bret's face gets really really red. He's so embarrassed about it he brushed it off and walked away, leaving you laughing. As soon as heard your laugh he realized he’d never heard you laugh before. He wanted to make you laugh like that again forever.

The next time he sees you he manages to awkwardly ask you out to dinner. You say yes in the most nonchalant voice you can manage but feel butterflies inside. He feels the same way too, the invitation short and with little fanfare to keep him from tripping over his words.

By the third date you end up spending the night together

When you get up to sneak out of the hotel room (you're not someone who likes to stick around… too much opportunity to fall head over heels), he grabs at your waist in his sleep

Bret mumbles sleepily to ask where you're going.

You realize that you could just lie and say you're using the bathroom, then slip out quietly. Instead you stay, hiding in the bathroom for a few minutes before returning to bed

Bret immediately wraps his huge arms around you and you fall asleep shortly after.

He apologizes for the display of affection the next morning. "Been a while since I spent the night with a woman I really like-- I mean, I know we've only been on a few dates--")

You rib him about it all, from the grabbing to his stuttering about it ("Your accent is so strong when you're sleepy!") and remind him in a quiet voice that you stayed with him.

Vince is upset at first when he learns you're dating Bret, then realizes he can use you to his advantage to spy on him.

You don't want to do that and stick to Bret's side. It causes a huge argument between you and Vince.

Vince respects you for that decision in the end even though it annoys him

Stephanie doesn't like the relationship (you roll your eyes at that) but Shane thinks it's funny how pissed off Vince is about it and supports it

Owen tells Bret he approves - "If you're gonna date a McMahon, she's the best choice... even if she is kind of a hard ass. You are too though, so it's a match made in heaven!"

When you get in one of your type-A controlling moods Bret mutters: "Just like a McMahon." just to piss you off. You scoff at him and calm down, appreciating being brought back down to earth from the one person you'd let say that to you

Even when Bret gets irritated at your "suggestions" (about his hair, his ring gear, his promos, or pretty much anything involving him) he tends to follow them

You get in arguments, real screaming matches occasionally. He’s the only man who’s ever gotten you so upset to the point you’re raising your voice, let alone yelling!

You make it up to each other without ever actually saying sorry (usually whoever was in the wrong gives the other person a kiss on the cheek)

You decide to tell Bret you love him live on TV in a rare appearance. "I came on the show to tell Bret Hart one thing. Bret-- I love you."

He's in complete shock as the show ends before he can respond

Backstage after you go off the air, Bret is pissed. "Is this all for an angle, McMahon? Trying to get me caught up on tv? You sure know how to cut a good promo."

Bret is more angry at himself for falling into your trap. He knew the relationship was too good to be true, you were just using him.

You shake your head "no", equally as mad as he is. He knows how you like to keep a low profile so doing something huge like publicly declaring your love on television was a big deal! How could he think you were trying to trick him? Or maybe he was upset that you were even telling anyone that you two were together. No one knew about the relationship besides your families.

"Bret, I love you so much I came out from behind the shadows to scream it to the world. That's how serious I am about you, about us. I'm sorry if you didn't want anyone to know--"

He walks away from you and you don't see him again until next week's show.

Stephanie tells you that you'll be on again just for a few minutes, barely containing a smile on her face. Your nervousness doesn’t allow you any time to wonder why she’s acting so strange

At the start of the show you're left standing in the middle of the ring alone

"Now I know you all are wondering what was going through my mind last week when I said--"

Bret is suddenly walking up to the ring, a look of determination on his face

Your heart aches at seeing him but you keep your expression neutral

He climbs in the ring and time feels like it's slowing down as he pulls you into him, giving you a kiss in front of everyone that makes your knees weak. The flashbulbs light up like crazy around you

The crowd screams when his voice pipes in with conviction to say "S. McMahon, I love you too."

After the show, Vince tells you that he told Bret you didn't have any ulterior motives and that the stunt you pulled the week before was all your idea. ("If it makes you feel better I was upset she even went out there and did it.")

Bret put his pride aside to ask Stephanie to convince you to go back out so he could kiss you. Stephanie, as much as she didn't like him, did it because she wanted to see you happy

Bret apologizes for his behavior and the ambush of making you go back into the ring.

You playfully slap his chest and kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck

“Don't expect me to show up on TV with you again any time soon. I've never felt so exposed!"

#bret hart #bret hart x reader #bret hart fanfic #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #wwe fanfiction #90s wwf #wrestling #wwe imagines #wwe bret hart #magnoliafanfic

[magnoliacharmed]

Hard Working Man

18+, Shawn Michaels x Kevin Nash one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Tags: Stripper AU, referenced drug use, alcohol use, masturbation, condomless sex, daddy kink

Word count: 4081

Summary:

Shawn finally gets to hook up with Diesel, the security guard at his strip club.

There wasn't a mirrored surface in existence that Shawn wouldn't glance into. He was surrounded by them in his messy dressing room with the fucked up yellow lighting, he fixed his hair in the giant heart-shaped one on the stage before he started his show, he made kissy-faces at himself in the cracked one he snorted his coke off of. Shawn's eyes were always glossy and wet. Red as the spandex of his pants. His nostrils burned when the asprin-y post nasal drip trickled down his sore throat.

Shawn had spent a lot of the night yelling. It added a sort of mysterious raspiness to his voice that the strip club patrons were very fond of when he went to their booths to offer a private dance. He had the best record in the club-- never turned down, not even once. Whenever his friends hit the stage in their tiny shorts or cowboy hats, Shawn sat in the audience and cheered for them. Reaching into his jeans pocket for crumpled up cash (not the hundred dollar bill though, he needed that for later), he walked up to them and stuck the bills between their tight, shiny g-strings. What a good friend. He knew they'd do the same for him after they’d a few drinks and lines. 

Of course Shawn was the main event. He was who everyone in this place even came for. Not to shit on the other boys, they did a great job too. But he and they knew who was really the big dog. They might have had bigger muscles and a fuller head of hair, sure. They didn't have the charisma , though. Shawn was all sweet smiles reflecting into that big heart under the pink lighting. A well toned body covered in oil made his few tattoos shine like bright stars. The crowd went crazy when he swung his pretty blond hair around, fluffing it and shaking it with reckless abandon. Hands reached up to paw at his hips when he rolled them. Women sighed when their lucky friend was chosen to bethe special lady Shawn grabbed the back of the head of to grind his crotch into her face. His sky blue eyes blunk heavily down at the girls looking up at him like some kind of king. Cash flittered off their fingers and into the air around him, a storm of dirty dollars clouding the smoke-filled skies of the club.

Diesel was having a hard time staying still at the display. Thank God no one was paying him any attention. His cock was at half mast under his faded black jeans watching Shawn writhe under the hot lights. An innocent little smile, the kind that said Oops, didn't mean to do that! , played perfectly across Shawn's face. Hooking his thumbs into the waist of his tights (his costume of choice was the one of a pro wrestler, which Diesel thought was a silly gimmick for a stripper), he shimmied them down just above his dick. The thick happy trail of hair leading down his stomach was blond too… Diesel's eye twitched at the sight of it. He could've sworn Shawn winked at him as he pulled the stretchy fabric down past his ass to show off the tattoo on his cheek.

The big man had only been working as security for the club for a few months and that was off and on. He had yet to work a shift with Shawn, always getting taken off the schedule or moved around at the last minute. Mean jokes were made at Shawn's expense whenever Diesel had some downtime with the other guards. Their favorite thing to call him was a sissy, but they didn't hold back from some other choice words either. Diesel never understood their vitriol. Night after night of women throwing their body and soul at your very existence? Those same women spending their whole paycheck just so you could press your dick against their inviting lips? Sounded like a dream job to him. The only reason he never got into it was his general clumsiness. He had the look for it but no rhythm or dancing skills. Some of the women he checked the IDs of had begun to call him Big Sexy. The drunker ones ran their hands over his big arms and asked when he'd take the stage. Diesel shooed them away with a smile, convincing them to go throw their money at someone who deserved it.

"Shawn's not a sissy 'cause he strips, man," One of the other guys rolled his eyes at Diesel's obvious lack of interest. "You see anyone calling Hunter a sissy? Or Ken?"

Diesel shrugged. Honestly he wasn't trying to involve himself in the gossip. This was just an easy job for him to make some extra money from. He didn't come here with the goal of making friends. The biggest perks were his two shift drinks and the occasional pussy that got thrown at him. If he got a drinking buddy out of it too it was a win for him. He hoped it wouldn't be one of these security jackasses though.

"He's a sissy 'cause he doesn't give a fuck about the ladies. All that twisting and grinding is for the guys. You've seen some of them out in the audience right? Ray on the other shift says that sometimes he'll see him set up private dances on his off time." The guard shivered at the revelation that other men would be present at a male strip club.

"What, so Shawn's gay?"

Another guard piped in. “He says he's bi. Do you believe that?"

Diesel spent the rest of the night chewing on it. Shawn liked men too, huh. Diesel himself had ventured with the same sex a few times. The experiences were pretty good. Good enough to try it again. Especially with someone as pretty as Shawn. This job was paying too well for him to shit where he ate by fucking him, though. The blond was a wreck of a person from what he heard from the bartenders. Because he was the top earner, the owner of the club let him do whatever he wanted. Shawn took advantage of his status by showing up smashed beyond all belief. Somehow he managed to pull it together by the time he had to perform. The more Diesel thought about it, he realized that the sex would probably be mind-blowing between him and Shawn. He was prone to having soft spots for those who were a little damaged. 

The pendulum between a secure job and a good orgasm swung around in Diesel's mind for the next couple of hours. It had been so long since he'd earned a steady paycheck. Knowing he could pay his landlord on time took a ton of weight off his shoulders. But Shawn… the pendulum was all out of whack. He had to get over this. 

When Billy Gunn approached him in a not-so-subtle way to spend some time together in the bathroom stall, he strongly considered taking him up on the offer. Billy was pretty in his own elusively open way. Diesel had to admit that the glittering gem in his belly piercing was enticing, along with his easygoing smile and tall frame. He opened his mouth to tell Billy to give him a five minute lead when Shawn bounded up to them with a skip in his step, waves of his hair floating around his face like strands of old gold. He had changed into his street clothes, a pair of tight jeans and a well fitting white t shirt. Billy immediately knew he'd fallen out of favor. He'd catch Diesel next time.

"Hi, big man." That thousand watt, pilled out smile spread wide on Shawn's face. Diesel heard the hint of an accent in his voice… maybe Texan? He took in the sight of him in all of his fidgety golden retriever glory. Even in the dim back area of the club Shawn was still shining bright.

"Billy, I think McMahon is looking for you." 

Shawn blinked rapidly with big doe eyes at Billy like he was only stopping by to relay the news. A note of finality in his voice told a different story. Tonight wasn’t the night to start a fight over it all, so Billy instead rolled his eyes and left to get his shift drink. Keeping Shawn happy was for the best of everyone in the club. He and Billy had their little arguments, never anything serious. Even though Shawn was the troublemaker most of the time, somehow it always ended up with him pouting and tearing up at Billy for being oh-so-mean to him. It only took a Shawn grabbing his dick and whining I promise I won’t be a jerk again, baby in that drawl of his for Billy to forgive him. 

The dynamics between Shawn and Billy caused Diesel to spare a few extra glances at Billy while he left. Another lewd image wormed its way through Diesel’s mind-- Billy and Shawn on their knees taking turns sucking him off. 

Shawn shook Diesel out of his fantasy when he noisily released suction from the cherry lollipop he'd been sucking on and dropped it into his glass of vodka. Swirls of red food coloring hung suspended in the alcohol like blood in the ocean. Diesel wondered if he was supposed to be the shark as he stared at Shawn’s crimson tinted lips.

"Good job out there, Shawn. The ladies loved it." 

"They always do." Shawn took a sip from his demonic looking concoction. "Want some? I promise I don't have the cooties."

Diesel couldn't help but to laugh. Shawn was being extra cute towards him. It only made him harder and more confused at what he should do. Still leaning towards fucking his brains out, Diesel took the glass and swallowed a bigger gulp than he wanted to. He tried not to react to the burning liquid as he handed the glass back to Shawn, but he still elicited a giggle out of him by tearing up.

"A big guy like you can't handle his liquor?" Shawn was on the verge of sounding maniacal. Despite this clear and obvious warning sign to stay away from him, Diesel kept his eyes locked onto his lips while he drank down the rest of the liquid. 

"I can handle it. But what I wonder is if you can handle me?" 

Diesel reached down to readjust his now painfully stiff cock in his pants. It was supposed to look casual, like it was just so big he had to do that sometimes. Shawn was smart enough to catch the hint, thankfully. He tilted his head to one side, eyes widening at how much of a handful Diesel took of himself. Caution wasn't thrown into the wind, it was launched like a fucking rocket. 

"Wow… " Shawn moved in closer to Diesel. Heat radiated off the two men and made the already sweltering air of the club even warmer. Scents of body oil, sweat, and cologne all mixed together into something that Diesel wished he could bottle up and carry around with him as a pick-me-up. "Does that mean what I think it does?" 

"What do you think it means, Shawn?" 

Diesel's voice was very low. This “so stupid it was adorable” act Shawn put on got him going way more than he liked to admit. Especially because he could tell it wasn't who he really was. It was just a sweet little persona he liked to throw on for the customers. And Diesel was in the mood to be a customer tonight.

"It means, hmm…" Shawn tapped his finger against the scruff on his chin. He didn’t particularly like the way it felt, but it got him extra cash from the women whenever he grew it out. "It means you want to fuck me."

God, yes.

It only took a couple of minutes for Shawn to slam back another double shot of vodka then pull Diesel's large figure back to his dressing room. After who knows how many drinks, snorts, puffs of weed and popped pills, Shawn was still managing to stand steadily. The only telltale sign that he wasn’t sober was his words beginning to run into each other. He dragged his hands all over the expanse of Diesel's pecs. His mouth was moving a mile a minute about… something. It was hard for Diesel’s brain to keep up with the way Shawn's touch was lighting him on fire.

"I knew you wanted me! I saw the way you looked at me when I was on stage, I did that just for you daddy, I'm all yours tonight, you gonna give me something I can feel?"

Diesel planted a rough kiss on Shawn's waiting lips. He needed him to be quiet for just a second so he could compose himself. The energy coming from him was overwhelming in the best possible way. Along with being a good dancer, Shawn was also an excellent kisser. He pressed his body into Diesel, his own erection rubbing against the bigger man's. A small gasp caught in his throat at the sensation. Shawn wrapped his arms behind Diesel's neck and melted at being pressed so tightly. He nuzzled into his neck to leave a kiss on his sensitive skin, then reached up to smack one on the curvature of his jawline. It made Diesel’s brain flip up and down and his cock throb.

Shawn released himself from the kiss slowly, as if he was memorizing every little thing around him to store away for later. He looked like he'd been fucked already. The reddening of his cheeks would be cute in any other moment, but now it looked very inappropriate. Doubly so when Diesel wrapped his large hand gently around Shawn's neck. Scratchy stubble prickled against his calloused palm. As soon as Diesel's hand rested on his delicate flesh, the delirious smile returned right to Shawn's face. Harder, harder, harder.  

"You gonna get rough with me, daddy?"

“Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see. Why don’t you give me a show first?”

Shawn eagerly pushed Diesel to sit on the cracked leather of the dressing's room couch. Total excitement consumed his being as he lowered himself down into his lap. It'd been a long time since he'd been fucked, really fucked. Diesel was the type of guy who could give that to him the way he liked it. With a less than graceful movement, Shawn unzipped his jeans. To Diesel's surprise, he was going commando. Immediately he wondered why he was so shocked. He’d just got off the stage after being a huge fucking flirt. Of course he'd want as much access to his dick as possible. It sprang from the form-fitting denim to bob in the air obscenely. Diesel was relatively content to let Shawn stroke himself in front of him until he came. Shawn’s lips parted into a perfect O-shape, his eyes dreamily blinking while he twisted and pulled at his cock. 

“I need you, Kevin.” Shawn breathed into the stuffy air of the room.  

“How do you know my real name?” Diesel didn’t really care that he knew. Really he wanted to hear Shawn moan it again and again, all night long. He wanted to hear him yell it, or have him crying and begging it all muffled into the couch. 

“I have my ways. Some of your boys are real big fans of mine, despite what they may say.” Shawn continued stroking but slowed down to really give Diesel a show. He made sure to store the memory away of Diesel’s destroyed, screwed up expression. 

“They’ll be jealous of me, then. Raise up just a little.”

Diesel’s hand came to rest on Shawn’s ass to gently lift him up. It was hard for him to even focus on pulling down the zipper of his jeans with the way Shawn looked above him. He was just so… pretty . Diesel had never seen a man like him before. 

The hitch in Shawn’s breathing when Diesel pulled his cock out was a real ego boost. He abruptly stopped stroking to stare down at how heavy it was. 

“It’s so big.”

Shawn fidgeted around to fully pull off his jeans and throw them on the floor. Now Diesel could finally rest his hands on the taut muscles of his ass. Shawn giggled when Diesel’s cock twitched as he grinded his body forward. 

“You’re driving me crazy, Shawn.”

“Not yet I’m not. You’ll see just how crazy I can drive you.”

Shawn leaned forward to wrap his arms around Diesel’s neck. Their cocks rubbed against each other with one long stroke from the movement, causing Diesel to grab onto Shawn tighter. Shawn’s hair fell around both of their faces like a curtain. Thin streams of the awful yellow light from the ceiling peeked through to cast shadows across Diesel’s face. 

“Can I get another kiss, daddy?” Shawn whispered down into his ear.

Diesel was embarrassed at how easy he was. Those few words alone were enough to make him leak out onto his shirt. He was pretty sure that stain wasn’t coming out in the wash. His hand freed itself from Shawn’s ass to rest against his head and push him in for a kiss. This time it was feverish with Shawn reaching into Diesel’s thick brown hair to steady himself. His mouth still tasted like the dregs of his vodka and cherry candy cocktail. Diesel was distracted enough to not react in time to Shawn reaching back to press the head of his cock against his hole. His whining from above made Diesel want to push it all inside of him at once just to see if he could take it. He wanted to— no, he had to see Shawn speechless.

“Do you have any lube?” Diesel choked out. 

Shawn twisted his body around to reach for the partially filled bottle of lube on the couch’s side table. He quickly squeezed some of the cool liquid onto his index and middle finger, then pushed his two fingers inside him. His eyes fluttered beautifully at the feeling, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough in comparison to being filled up by Diesel. Just as Diesel was beginning to feel like he would come before he even got inside of him, Shawn removed his fingers and lined up against the head of his cock once more. 

“God, I’ve been waiting for this,” Shawn murmured as he lowered himself down onto Diesel. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open as he was stretched out by the thickness of his cock. When his eyes opened back up, Diesel knew he got exactly what he needed. Shawn was at a loss for words and already looking fucked out. He was sure he was looking pretty fucked out too; the show Shawn had put on had almost put him over the edge a couple of times already. Now here he was bouncing on top of him, palms pressed against Diesel’s knees so he could lean back for better control. His cock bobbed around and hit his stomach with every roll of his hips against Diesel while his hair flew around him from the increasing movement. 

The springs of the couch squeaked uncomfortably below Diesel and Shawn. Along with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the only noises in the room came from Shawn. He couldn’t help but moan loudly, as if he was purposely trying to let everyone know what was going on in the room. Diesel hoped to be a little more discreet… but fuck it. Shawn was worth his business being exposed. Sweat poured down the both of them as Diesel continued to rut hard into him. 

“Fuck— fuck— fuck!” Shawn’s voice raised an octave every time Diesel pushed against his prostate. He moved inside of him fast and hot and Shawn felt like he was being absolutely split open. It was exactly what he needed after a long night of working. He was beginning to come down from the coke and was in need of another Soma. Diesel’s cock pushed those feelings away for the time being, the most beautiful and perfect distraction one could ask for. 

Shawn’s hand rushed to return to stroking himself. Diesel couldn’t take the view of him twisting his hand around his length, thumb pressing against the slit of himself while he pushed himself up and down above him. It was like being presented with a buffet full of desserts… too many sweet options to choose from. Tears squeezed out of Shawn’s eyes and rolled down his blushed cheeks as his hips began to stutter. He was even more gorgeous when he cried, a realization that made Diesel’s stomach feel funny. It was as if Shawn really was an angel with the way the light haloed around his hair and reflected in his eyes.

“Stop— stop crying, fuck.” 

“I can’t help it, daddy. You feel so good,” Shawn’s words were slurred and his smile was lopsided. The room was beginning to spin from the vodka and his rapidly approaching orgasm. He used the last of his strength to slow down and grind deeply into Diesel, matching the pace of his hand pulling against himself. Putting on a show was half the fun of sex, anyways. Sometimes he got more pleasure out of turning people on than he did from fucking. Luckily for him, he got to do both with Diesel. 

Diesel threw his head back to squeeze his eyes shut. He couldn’t take it anymore. It only took one last drawn out whimper from Shawn to make him shoot off inside of him. Shawn gasped at the feeling of his come painting his insides and began to ride with a fervor again. Just as the last of Diesel’s come flooded him, Shawn came. Pearly white ropes painted his lower stomach and abs while he continued to chase after Diesel’s orgasm. His muscles ached like crazy from all the riding. Diesel slowly dragged him off his worn out body and watched as the come leaked from his tight hole and back down onto his own dick. It truly was a sight to behold, a sight Diesel would never ever forget. 

“Goddamn, Kevin. Goddamn.”

Shawn took deep, rasping breaths as he ragdolled onto the couch. Diesel opened his eyes to look over at him splayed out. Goddamn was right. What was he so worried about? Fucking Shawn wouldn’t cause any disruptions for him at the club. It’d only make the job more exciting. So he was kind of crazy. Maybe a little manipulative. Definitely an egomaniac. But he was fun and he knew how fuck. Diesel could work around the rest. 

“Will you take me home tonight? I don’t wanna be all alone out there in the dark.” Shawn crawled up back into Diesel’s lap. He caressed his chest and poked his bottom lip out cutely.  

“You really know how to put on a show don’t you?”

Shawn’s hearty laugh was comforting to Diesel’s ear. The spell was broken. 

“This is why I like you, man! You know when I’m just playing around.” He pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail and grabbed up his jeans off the floor. It was almost time for Diesel to clock out. He didn’t want to hear shit from the boys and definitely not from McMahon about where he’d been for the last half hour, so he had to find a way to get out as quietly as possible. 

“Seriously though. Come home with me after your next shift.” 

Shawn winked as he smoothed out his shirt. It was definitely a demand and not a request. It was his world, so he always got what he wanted. Diesel’s legs were still liquified beneath him. Shawn was the one who’d done all the work and still managed to get back on the move faster than him. 

“You think Billy’s still around? Gotta go apologize to him.” Shawn rolled his eyes and stopped out of the room before Diesel could even start to answer. For a man who was on the verge of screaming just minutes ago, Shawn’s voice seemed even deeper than it was earlier. It must have been for Billy’s sake as another layer of their weird relationship. 

Diesel sighed. Maybe Shawn would be a problem after all.

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