Double Trouble Part 2 - This is where Y/N meets Sheamus and details what happens with that meeting.
4983 words. NSFW. SMUT. Sheamus, Cesaro, AJ Styles makes a brief appearance.
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Sheamus and Cesaro won the tag team championship that night against The Hardy Boys. Cesaro went to celebrate out in the Cesaro section hamming it up with the fans and posing for pictures. When he saw you, he went and planted a big kiss on your lips, not giving two shits who saw it. You didn’t stick around after their match was over, you flashed your backstage pass & went to wait for Cesaro. You were only waiting about ten minutes or so before Cesaro strode up and looked better than the law should allow, in another one of his Armani suits. This time it was a dark blue. You were kissing your hellos when Sheamus walked up and cleared his throat discreetly to announce his presence. When that failed, he said with mock annoyance “Jaysus Christ, get a fekkin room already!” Cesaro grinned, broke the kiss and introduced you to his tag team partner, and brother, Sheamus.
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Sheamus looked really amazing in a black suit, and smelled even more amazing. He was wearing Burberry, another one of your favorites. As promised, he was on his best behavior, or what passed for best behavior for him anyway. You hugged him, and were genuinely glad to meet another one of your WWE favorites. You were amazed that you just disappeared into those arms of his like you were invisible! The plan was to go to a steak & sushi place to celebrate the big win. Sheamus offered to drive, so you and Cesaro could be alone together. Cesaro had just found out from Kurt that he had to go to Japan to shoot some promos, and do a few house shows, which meant he would not get as much time with you as he’d like. Sheamus, thankfully was exempt, and had earned himself a few well-deserved days off.
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Sheamus snuck glances at you through the rearview mirror. That shade of green you were wearing made him homesick for Ireland, plus the dress hugged your curves and set off your eyes and hair to perfection. Cesaro was an amazing shopper! Sheamus felt himself growing hard looking at your milky- white breasts popping out of the sweetheart neckline of your dress. He thought to himself “Damn, Cesaro sure knows how to pick the best of everything in life.” He shifted in his seat to adjust himself, and silently cursed himself for agreeing to go along tonight. Shitty idea. Sheamus is never good at being anyone’s 2nd anything.
He pulled into the restaurant lot, and Sheamus tossed the keys to the valet, and waited for Cesaro to get out and help you out. You and Cesaro walked in first, Cesaro’s hand on the small of your back possessively, and very close to your ass. Sheamus got a good look at that ass as he was walking behind you to the table, which didn’t help his situation from earlier any. Cesaro, ever the gentleman, and sensitive to his brother’s situation of being single helped to facilitate conversation over dinner. Cesaro said “Sheamus, did you know Y/N speaks Gaelic?” Sheamus smiled and looked over at you, and taking full advantage of the situation of Cesaro not knowing Gaelic said “Mar sin cad atá á dhéanamh le Guy cosúil leis?” - So what are you doing with a guy like him? You smiled and told him “Bhuail muid díreach. Tá sé faic tromchúiseach.” - We just met, it's nothing serious. You smiled and switched back to English and said, “My dad is from Dublin. My Mom is from here.” Sheamus did not really hear that second part, he was tossing over in his head where you said “It’s nothing serious.” Cesaro interrupted his thoughts and said to Sheamus “That’s where you’re from, Dublin, right?” “Yeah.” Sheamus said.
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After what seemed to Sheamus a torturously long dinner, with inane small talk as you and Cesaro stared goofily into each other’s eyes, he drove You and Cesaro back to the hotel, dropped you guys off, and he went for a drive to clear his head, after sitting all through dinner with a raging hard on for you. Driving was pissing him off more, so he decided to hit the gym to work you off his mind. He couldn’t get that parting hug you gave him off his mind. Your perfume, the way your hair smelled of vanilla, the crush of your perfect breasts against his chest all haunted him. Arm curls. This is what he needed. Pain to put you out of his mind – muscles burning, the pain made him feel alive…
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Back at the hotel, Cesaro had set the scene for you perfectly, starting with Sheamus sharing a room with AJ Styles for the night. Cesaro had dimmed the lights, lit some candles, placed rose petals on the bed. He had also ordered a dozen red roses sent to the room in a Waterford Crystal vase on a serving table with coffee, and tiramisu for two. “What’s all this?” you asked him. “Mi Amor, Kurt is sending me to Japan for a week or two for some promos, and house shows. I would have told you sooner, but Kurt broke the news to me right before the match. We have tonight, and it’s all about you and making your dreams come true…” He said. You smiled, and got on your tiptoes to kiss that lovely man of yours. You grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him hungrily. Your mouth moved to his ear. “God, I want you to fuck me right now.” He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue between your lips. You cried out, and he bored deeply. You clutched his arms.. you could barely stand. He slid his arm around your waist and drew back just enough so that he could look at your flushed cheeks and liquid eyes. He laughed throatily and said “Patience, Mi amour… We have all night for that..”
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Sheamus finished his workout, and decided to cool off and swim some laps. He was far from done pushing and punishing himself. His mind flashed back to the green hills of Ireland, that green dress you were wearing, and his imagination wandered to him exploring your body with his hands. Those perfect milky-white breasts.. the dress pooled on the floor at your feet… His thoughts were both rudely and thankfully interrupted by the Southern drawl of AJ Styles breaking through. “Hey man! You’re getting more of the pool out here than actually leaving it in the pool where it belongs!” AJ smirked. “Sorry.” Sheamus grumbled. AJ knelt at the edge of the pool and asked “What’s got you so pre-occupied, man? You’re not sweating about the Tag Team Championship re-match against the Hardy’s are you? Cuz if you are, you and Cesaro have that shit in the bag, man!” “NO. I’ll knock another one of his fekkin teeth right outta his fekkin head!” Sheamus growled. “Easy man! Get dressed, we’re goin drankin. First round’s on me.” AJ said….
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After dessert and coffee, Cesaro cued up some Frank Sinatra on his I-phone, took you by the hand, and you danced in the dim room close together. It felt so good being in his arms. He was such a wonderful dancer. You pressed closer, and were rewarded by the feel of his hardness poking at you. He smiled at your smile, and the light in your eyes at that, and twirled you away from him, and right back to him again in one fluid movement. He leaned in, as if to kiss you again, and whispered hoarsely against your lips instead “No, my love, tonight it’s all about you.” And he reached behind him for one of the roses in the vase. He pulled it out of the vase, and dragged the flower lightly, teasingly down the side of your face, your neck, and over your breasts, admiring the contrast of the blood red rose against your perfect, milky skin, and your breath caught in your throat….
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At the bar, Sheamus was knocking back the Jameson’s as quickly as the bar keep was setting them up. AJ looked at Sheamus and asked “So, if it’s not the “Hardly Boys” making you edgy, then what? Did you and Cesaro have a fight?” Sheamus smiled and laughed into his glass at AJ’s rude name for the Hardy Boyz. “No man, it’s just woman troubles, and it’s complicated.” “Well shit, man. Women are always complicated!” AJ drawled. He sounded like such a redneck when he’d been drinking. “Yer married, fella, can’t be all that complicated.” Sheamus said. “It becomes complicated when I’m away from my wife for a long time, being on the road, and I see a beautiful woman that I wouldn’t mind bending over and fucking the shit outta. Why do you think so many times I’ve gone into the ring with raging wood?! Have you SEEN some of the hotties that get backstage?! ” AJ laughingly replied. “You haven’t actually screwed around on yer wife have you, man?” Sheamus asked, leaning forward and frowning, the lines in between his brows furrowing deeper. “No way! I love my wife, and she’s the mother of my kids! But it’s sure hard with the temptation all around all day every day. It’s easy to have a weak moment.” “Yes…” Sheamus said absently.. And he rolled his eyes as somebody decided to put “Jesse’s Girl” on the jukebox. It was high time for him to leave. He stood up, clapped AJ on the shoulder, set him up with another drink and said “Glad we could talk, man. I’m outta here, Fella.” Sheamus walked away, leaving AJ with a “What the HELL man, I thought we was drankin?!“ look on his face. He shrugged, and slammed the shot that Sheamus had left for him, and ordered himself another….
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Cesaro set the rose down on the table. You were trembling with anticipation of what you thought was to come. He gently picked you up, and sat you on the edge of the bed. He slipped your black Jimmy Choo stilettos off your perfect feet. He kissed your ear, as he said, "I don't want either of us to ever forget this night." He caressed up your legs and at your thighs, rolled your black stockings down, exposing your long legs. He held your hands over your head, and slipped off your dress, savoring the way your nipples puckered in the cool room, and how rosy they were in contrast to your creamy skin. He gazed upon you as if seeing you for the first time, burning your soft curves into his memory. He sucked on your lower lip, and nibbled. He ran his fingers through your fiery hair, lightly tugging at it. His other hand is on your breast, cupping it, he brushes the nipple with his thumb, rolling and pinching, you’re getting wetter by the minute as he continues this assault on your breasts, first one then the other.
He moved on to a new spot, his thumb rubbed around the sweet spot of your clit, and your eyes rolled back into your head. So very close. The strength of what was building inside you was staggering with each stroke of his thumb. Mind-blowing. If he stopped now, you’d cry and beg, maybe die. He moved on, and dove his tongue deep inside you, setting off another earth-shattering moan that was music to his ears, and if he touched you just right, you made the most glorious sounds — raw, intense, needful, absolutely delicious noises of fucking pleasure as he plundered you with his tongue. You were his for the taking. He sucked on your clit, while kneading your ass. He stopped long enough to thrust one finger inside you, crooking it and hitting you in the sweet spot that turned your moans into one long, high-pitched wail, he added another finger. You shuddered against him, legs quaking, hips thrusting, grinding against his fingers.
He then pulled you closer to the edge of the bed and thrust into you. You gasped and gripped the sheets, balling them up in your hands, as your body stretched to accommodate him. The feel of him was growing more familiar. He leaned over you, forcing you back almost to your elbows and thrust, sinking fully into you, filling you completely. As his thrusts gained a steady tempo, you brought your hands up to caress his pecs, his nipples, down his abs, clamping your legs tight around his waist, driving him further into you until your sweat-slick bodies were sliding together. You kept breathing life into his soul, almost more than he could bear. When he finally slowed to look at you, he saw your hair was a wild tumble, and you face was all glowing and blissed-out, and he's smirking and whispering in your ear "I never knew you were such a dirty girl, Y/N." You spooned, with him behind you, and soon you both fell asleep. Blissed-out and comfortable.
The next morning, the alarm went off. You stirred, stretched, leaned over and nuzzled, nibbled, licked, and kissed Cesaro’s neck as he lay beside you. He hugged you close a moment, grinned, got out of bed, stood up, and pulling you with him, He hooked his finger beneath your chin and lifted, forcing you to look at him. “I have to go now, Mi Amour. I will call you every day I’m gone, I promise. We will get together the second I return You will never be far from my thoughts.” You pouted a bit. And then he got dressed, and as he was dressing, told you Sheamus was on his way to take you guys to the airport. You were left to put on the dress you wore the night before and freshen up a little.
All too soon, there was a knock on the door, and Cesaro opened the door, and greeted Sheamus. He ducked his head slightly and waved at you, and then discreetly turned away and pretended to be looking intently at his phone. He had offered to drive you and Cesaro to the airport, and then return you to your house. As you were in the bathroom fixing your makeup, Cesaro took Sheamus aside and said quietly so you wouldn’t hear “I’d feel a lot better if I knew she was well looked after. Do you mind?” “Naw, I’ll check up on her and she’ll be ok” Sheamus promised. And then he took you guys to the airport. He was giving you shit the whole time about being touchy-feely kissy and grabby.
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It had only been three days since Cesaro had been gone. You hadn’t really paid Sheamus much mind, you missed Cesaro too goddamn much. You figured Sheamus went back home to Florida to relax. All that aside, you had a gig tonight! You had decided on a yellow strappy low cut vintage style dress – classic pin up style, and black rhinestone Yellowbox platform flip flops. You had to admit, you looked damn cute as you surveyed your reflection in your full-length mirror. You were a little nervous because this was your first gig in a while, and you had been writing lots of fluffy love songs with Cesaro in mind. That man had awakened something in you. You had been writing frantically like a woman possessed, and almost had enough material for a full-length cd! Lord how he consumed your thoughts. He’s only been gone about three days and you missed him terribly. You were smitten. He was good, and kept his word, and had been sending you sweet texts and voicemails and silly selfies when his schedule allowed. You always woke up knowing you were on his mind…
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Sheamus was still in town, unbeknownst to you. He was feeling restless as fuck, and didn’t know why, other than he couldn’t get you off his mind – Especially after Cesaro innocently asked him to look after you, since after all you are his best friend and brother. He cursed himself for agreeing – but he couldn’t deny Cesaro anything. The hotel TV was blaring “Mallrats” A Kevin Smith movie, and his thoughts were interrupted by Jay calling Silent Bob his “hetero lifemate.” Sheamus ducked his head and laughed. Yep. That fit him and Cesaro perfectly, he had to admit.
Sheamus decided he needed a Guinness, so he turned off the TV and hopped into the shower, dressed meticulously in well-worn faded jeans, a black button down shirt, and his gray tweed hat. He headed out the door. You had just taken the stage, and started your first set when Sheamus made his way from the bar to a middle table, whiskey in hand. The bar did not have Guinness, so whiskey had to do. After settling in, he cursed himself silently when he looked up and realized the pretty girl with the voice of an angel singing was you! “Of all the fuckin bars in this shit town, and I choose this one. Great! Just fuckin great!” He thought to himself. You were blinded by the bright stage lights and smoke, and couldn’t see who had just walked in and sat down, other than they were really tall.
Sheamus shifted in his seat as he looked at you adoringly, hanging on your every word as you belted out a Linda Ronstadt cover “I’ve got a crush on you.”
At the back of the bar at a corner table were a group of oilfield men that were on the island blowing their wad of pay on drinks. They were shitfaced and hooting and laughing loudly, swearing, and grabbing at every pretty serving girl that walked by, and cat-calling. Sheamus paid them no mind, until they began to heckling you. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he was hyper aware of everything around him. They were yelling “FEEEBIRD!!” and “Play some Skynyrd!” You were used to this shit, playing in dive bars across the country. It was still no less soul crushing when it happened. You decided to do a poppy upbeat cover to appease the crowd.
It was time for you to break, so the jukebox came on, and you headed for the bar. You smiled at Scotty the bartender and asked for a whiskey. You heard a sexy Irish brogue behind you say “I neva pegged ya for a whiskey girl, Lass.” And then to the bar keep “Put her drink on my tab, Fella.” You smiled at the attention from Sheamus and tell him you’re glad to see him, and ask if he is enjoying the show. He is surprised that you are so talented.
On your break, you had steadily drank, danced, laughed, and tried to have fun despite the oilfield idiot having been annoying you constantly. Sheamus was also a good dancer. You were surprised a man so big could be graceful on his feet like that. He was greatly impressed you matched him drink for drink and showed no signs of being shitfaced. Sheamus was really a lot of fun to be around!
One of the oilfield men kept staring at you, the same one that was heckling you earlier. He was sitting at the bar with the two of you. Sheamus glared back and yelled at him “Hey Fella, the fook you lookin at?”
For a time, things normalized, and before you or Sheamus knew it, the man had quickly cut back through the room from the bar, cutting across the dance floor. He had timed it perfectly to intercept you. You had excused yourself from Sheamus' company, and were en route to the ladies’ room. Before you got there, however, the man grabbed your arm hard, and twisted you to him. You were being pressed up against the wall, he was crushing you, and your skirt was being hitched up by his rough stubby fingers. You were crying, screaming at this man to let you go, get off of you. He is cursing you, calling you a dirty whore, and a filthy cunt that needs to be punished. His breath stank.
Sheamus heard you yelling. His head snapped up, assessed the situation, and he charged the guy like a bull. He shoved you to safety behind him. He knocked him into the Men's room door. From his prone position, he endured the beating and brogue kicking Sheamus gave him. He was too inebriated to fight back, really. As quickly as it began, it ended with the bouncer picking up the guy, and ousting him and his friends and telling them to get the fuck out and never come back to his bar. Scotty put out his hand to shake Sheamus’ hand and thank him. He set you guys up with a shot apiece of Jameson’s before last call.
Sheamus ignored the drink in front of him for the moment. He tenderly wiped your tears from your face and spoke softly to you. “Hey Lass, it’s alright. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not on MY watch.” He looked you over to make sure you were ok. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Sheamus asked?? “No.” you whispered. He enfolded you in his arms and held you tightly. You tried not to cry. “Thank you.” You sniffled against his shoulder. He smiled tenderly at you and said there was no need to thank him, he was glad to be your protector for always. You both finished your shots, and you grabbed your guitar. Sheamus held his hand out for you, and you took it. The two of you walked outside together. He was calming. Steadying. He had planned to drive you home, since you walked to the gig. Home was not too far away, but after the attack, he was on guard.
Turns out, it wasn't over. The man was waiting outside. You screamed. He put up his fists. He was southpaw. Right hand forward, and he steps into a REALLY wide wobbly karate or kung fu stance, Sheamus had never seen anything like it. Sheamus right away launched a right-foot roundhouse kick, full blast in his face, which is even worse for the guy because Sheamus is wearing steel toes. SMASH! It hits him and he goes down on his knees, and his lip is split in half, you can see the lip hanging. Blood everywhere. "Ya dirty shitehawk, if you so much as look at this woman again, I will fucking end you." The other oilfield men had by this time scattered like roaches into the night.
Sheamus decided he couldn’t chance you being alone, not with those assholes on the loose. He took you to his hotel room. Against his better judgement. He was almost high from the vanilla perfume you wore. He was duty-bound to protect you. His hardness had other ideas. He shifted in his seat to hide it.
“I never got to properly thank you for saving me.” You told him, as you were in the safety of his hotel room. You got on tiptoe. And kissed him. Your hand rubbing the scruffy of his beard, and going behind his neck, pulling him to you. All the air sucked out of the room for him… He returned the kiss, warm and probing. Gentle… with a hint of rough to it… He sucked your tongue, nibbled your lip, sucked your lip. His thumb traced your lips. Your tongue snaked out and sucked his thumb seductively. His gaze narrowed and devoured your body, touching you with dark intent. He was hungry for you. You shivered and moved toward him, except he kept you right where you were. At this moment in time, you both loved and hated his strength, how he was controlling you, and could throw you around at will. Right now it was fucking hot as Hell, and you were horny.
He pushed you down on the bed and held you there with one hand on your stomach and stripped your dress off of you, leaving you in just your lacy panties. This uninhibited style of sex was new to you, and you were quickly growing addicted. You’d never known the rough abandon or carnal intent that Sheamus showed you. Cesaro was more gentlemanly. With Sheamus, there was a borderline danger. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies, and knotted, as he grasped your lace panties and pulled them. They ripped at the seam on one side with his super strength. Sheamus paused, staring at the bit of torn material and he shrugged. A slow grin spread across his face and he ripped the other side with a simple flex of his powerful arms. He gazed at you as he slowly slipped his shirt from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. He ran his hands down the length of your arms, his fingers entwining with yours. Then he crossed your hands behind you as he kissed you long and deep, pressed so tightly against you, you almost couldn’t breathe - In a really good way.
As soon as he released your hands, they found themselves tangled in his hair. He feathered kisses and little nibbles down your neck to your collarbone, and your breath hitched and caught in your throat. Sheamus smiled against your ivory skin, knowing instinctively this was one of your sweet spots. He felt his way as his hands unclasped your black lace bra, adding it to the pile at your feet. He bent his head and left a trail of kisses across the tops of your breasts, his hands traveling up to cup them gently. His thumbs grazed and pinched your nipples, and you almost came out of your skin.
“That feels fucking amazing.” You sighed, watching him attend to you. The words “Oh my God!” left your mouth as you dropped your head back to enjoy. His tongue flickered across your right nipple and his mouth zeroed in, taking the nub in between his lips. His teeth softly encircled you, biting gently and sucking. You cried out underneath him, letting him know that this was exactly what you needed. His teeth nibbled more insistently, and his left hand began to move toward your legs. You ran your hands up and down his back, scratching, beginning to feel the slow build that was going to quite possibly be your undoing. Cesaro and Sheamus were alike in that department.
When you took your first look at him shirtless, it was a good thing he was holding on to you so tightly, as you felt your knees shake. He was so motherfucking beautiful. You pushed him away just far enough to take him in, your gaze traveling up and down. He was so strong and handsome, chiseled like marble. He noticed you staring, and he grinned at you. “What are you staring at?” “You. You’re beautiful.” You ran your fingertips lightly across his chest, lower onto his smooth stomach, and he groaned. “Not as beautiful as you, Lass.”
You expertly snapped open his button and unzipped him before he knew what you were doing. As his eyes widened, you slipped one hand inside, found what you were looking for, and gave him a gentle but insistent squeeze. He was fucking huge! “Fuck, Y/N . . . ,” he moaned, buying you a few more seconds, which was all you needed. You slipped his jeans down his legs. He gave in, kicking off his shoes and allowing you to continue to slide them off. You knelt in front of him before he could stop you, and as you finished removing them, you chanced a quick look up. He was staring down at you with such a look of lust and want, it darkened his eyes, and almost made you rock back on your heels. You took him in your mouth.
He regained his control before he lost it with your mouth on him, and scooped you up and brought you to the bed. He leaned over you, his hardness teasing your wetness, entering you just enough to tease your clit. He slid home into you then. You felt so good and tight. So wet, “Oh, God, Y/N . . . Jesus,” he growled, his hands tightening in your hair, reflexively bringing him deeper into you. Balls deep. Hearing that gorgeous voice, that sexy as fuck Irish brogue — oh my God. You let him fill you, feeling the hardness of him, stretching you, and you inwardly smiled.
This was exactly where you wanted him. Needed him. He was perfect and huge and smooth and rock hard. Everything about the man was huge. When his tongue touched your body, you arched off the bed so violently that he had to hold you down. “No, love, you aren’t going anywhere,” he said, admonishing you, and the feel of his hot breath against your skin almost made you come instantly. His hands gripped your hips, angling you so that you were completely vulnerable to whatever he wished to do to you. You shivered in anticipation.
Oh, sweet lord. He was good. He kept thrusting into you and you felt as if you’d break. He groaned, pulled out, jerked it twice, and shot his wad all over your stomach, and collapsed on you, rolling you on top of him, the both of you breathing hard. Blissed-out. You nestled into his shoulder, and he kissed your forehead, smoothed your hair with his hand, and then slipped his arms around you, protecting you. That was where you slept off the whisky hangover you knew you were going to have the next morning. In his arms.
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