Prompt: “That Tommaso/male reader was so wonderful and spicy!!! You really did a great job. I may seem demanding (hides in corner) but could you take a prompt where Ricochet has a crush on a male reader? Once again you did amazing!!!” - @issacloveswwe [Not demanding at all, dear. I’m glad you liked it. I hope you like this one too!]
Velveteen’s ability to see people’s possible weaknesses is unparalleled. It doesn’t work out for him this time, but it works out well for the Reader and Ricochet.
Pairing: Ricochet x Male!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: fluff, fight-flirting, wrestling violence, implied smut, FLUFFY ENDING
Note: Oh my god, this turned out so fluffy! It twice as long to write the ending because of it. Super proud of this, so please reblog the heck out of it. As always, my requests and tag lists are open. Possible tag lists: WWE, NXT, and a bunch of other stuff. Don’t hesitate to ask. Enjoy!
(Using this gif because it will always be the sexiest thing I’ve seen this man do.)
Velveteen was back on his bullshit.
Come to think of it, you don’t think he was ever off it. Especially when you and he were both gunning for the North American championship.
“Are you looking at the championship or Ricochet?” Velveteen broke through your thoughts, startling you as he plopped down in the chair next to you. “You know, if you two wanted to have some fun time, I could babysit the title for a while-“
He frowned. “Come on, don’t deny that you’ve got feel-“
“I’m not.” You plucked at your wristbands. “What I feel and what he feels… never mind. Doesn’t matter.” You turned in your seat to face him. “Besides, we both know you don’t really care if I’m getting any. You just want to be champion,” you chuckled.
Velveteen shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t try.” He left the way he came, keeping a wide birth around Lars brooding nearby.
While you had been in thought and not looking at anything in particular, you shifted your gaze to Ricochet himself, his championship laying on his gym bag near his feet. He was stretching, getting ready for the show that night. Your airways constricted as you swallowed dryly. Aim for the stars, land on the moon, right? It didn’t matter what you felt. He was out of your reach. And it was probably unlikely that you’d win the triple threat tonight. But hey, you were going to try your hardest. At least for that.
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