#playroom!verse

[peppermintquartz]

This one was set in the Playroom!verse and I really liked the idea of a Dom/sub relationship that didn't involve sex between the Dom and sub, and the idea of Finn training to be a Dom by learning exactly what subbing entails. Didn't really delve into that though, that was more of a background thing.

But I thought about Finn and Joe meeting as young men and well... Hot 🥵

Strangers in a Bar

Finn has been good. Sir picks out a guy for him.

[peppermintquartz]

minific, pre-Playroom

Joe x Finn, mention of Joe's ex

*

They meet in Bern, which is boring, so they spend the day in Finn's suite. Room service is good, the bathtub is better, and since Finn has not seen Joe for a year and six months, the sex is excellent.

When they're both filthy and sated, Finn lights a cigarette and draws in a deep inhale. "Well. That was nice."

"You've picked up some new skills, kid," Joe says. He's pleasantly buzzed on wine and sex, so he lets Finn smoke in peace; he'll make the younger man wash out his mouth later. "I wasn't expecting to see you though. What's got you out here in Europe?"

"Call me kid again and you won't get a morning blow," Finn drawls. He blows out a smoke ring. "I heard something disturbing last week from a patron. Bugged me enough that Tama told me to come find you, get you outta my system."

"Oh?" Joe lifted his hand to slap it on Finn's bare thigh and starts kneading. "What's got your panties in a twist now?"

"You know a guy named Styles? Goes by the handle Clash in the Business."

Joe feels a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "Of course I know him. I worked with him for a few months, early on."

"Only work?" Finn sounds deceptively casual.

"Are you jealous?" Joe doesn't bother hiding his delight. "We worked together and fucked a couple times."

Finn sits upright and stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray next to the bed. Twisting around, he glares at Joe. "Seriously? That guy? What in Satan's left arsehole did you see in him?"

Joe shrugs. "He was pretty."

"Ugh." The disgust is palpable in Finn's face. Then, in a more nonchalant tone, he asks, "Have you seen him recently?"

"Nah. We had a falling out." Joe slides his hand further up Finn's thigh.

"He's working for some really foul people," Finn says, "and for some godforsaken reason, Omega and the brothers like him. He has soccer mom hair, for fuck's sake."

"His hair smells nice, though."

"I'll fucking gut you."

Joe laughs. "Are you jealous that I slept with someone prettier than you?"

Suddenly straddling Joe, tangled up in the sheets, Finn slaps a hand on Joe's chest and snarls, "He isn't nearly half as pretty as me."

Joe flicks the tip of Finn's nose. "Sure, sure."

Finn sits back on Joe's thighs and pouts. He looks ridiculous, with his sex-tousled hair and reddened lips, but Joe can't help feeling fond of the younger man. Finn asks, "You think you'll ever sleep with him again?" After a pause, he adds, "I don't want you to do that. If you sleep with him, you either hide that from me forever, or never ever touch me."

"You really dislike him, huh."

"Yes, I do." The vehemence in Finn's tone makes Joe laugh outright.

"Nah, we've grown apart. He takes jobs that I'd never consider." Joe sighs and shuts his eyes. "Someday we'll end up on opposite sides, probably. I don't blame him for taking the jobs he does, though; man grew up poor and hungry, he'll do whatever he has to to never be poor and hungry again."

Finn huffs, but doesn't say anything. Everyone in the Business grew up damaged in some way. Instead, he gets off Joe and the bed. In another minute, Joe hears water running.

"I want a fancy dinner," Finn calls out from the bathroom, "so come take a shower."

Joe's smile deepens as he levers himself out of bed.

They don't make it out to dinner.

[peppermintquartz]

A Thousand Bottles

minific, Playroom!verse

William Regal, Tony Schiavone (why in the all-loving HECK am i writing them)

Gen

*

Now that he has relinquished control of the Court, William Regal finds it rather relaxing to travel the world to visit his many boys and girls, see how they're doing. Retirement suits him, he feels; the desire to dominate will always be there, and drawing someone close enough to submit willingly will always be a pleasure, but the work itself holds no attraction any more. His country home in the Cotswolds remains on holiday rental for the rest of the year, and then he will remodel it and move in. At least, that's the plan. He may change his mind again.

His boys and girls have proven themselves, and he feels no small sense of vicarious pride at their achievements. Finn has done the best of the lot, of course, though the violence of his reign in Tokyo was regrettable; William was pleased when Joe stepped in. No need to reveal who had persuaded the three smaller yakuza families to band together to hire Joe to disable Finn as mediator; William would never allow Finn to know who was watching over him from half a world away.

Now his blue-eyed boy runs a smaller dungeon for select customers, and even more importantly, is in love with a spirited young sub with pretty doe eyes and dark curls. William has never been happier for the beat-up Irish teen hooligan he plucked off a street, bleeding and almost dying from a beating.

*

William is in New York right now, enjoying a delicious if overpriced steak, and thinking if he wants to travel southwards to Florida to visit a few old friends, when he hears a delighted and surprised gasp of "Mr Regal?"

William Regal has always congratulated himself on his impeccable memory, but it takes him a few breaths to place the dark-haired, bearded man with the slightly plump features and neat black-rimmed glasses. The eyes and eager demeanor... The name falls into place. "Tony? Tony Schiavone?"

The man visibly brightens. "Mr Regal, you remember me?"

"Of course," says William, getting to his feet to shake Tony's hand. Still slightly damp and warm, but the grip is firmer. William can't help beaming at the shorter man, running a hand along Tony's lapel and over his shoulder. "You look good. Yet to find a good tailor, though. It has been, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine years?"

To William's pleased surprise, Tony blushes and lowers his gaze. As easily flustered as before, it seems. Tony tugs at his sleeve and says, "Twenty-nine." In a low voice, he adds, "I... I've wondered how you've been."

"Do you have another appointment right now? Because I have yet to have dessert, and I would love some company," says William warmly. "It would be wonderful to catch up with an old friend."

Tony visited the Court regularly in its first year, when he was posted to London for his job, and William had liked him from the start. Earnest and well-spoken, good at following orders, and oh so willing to let William build his craft through him... William thinks back to the way Tony showed trust in him, the way he listened attentively, and the way he never talked back. How his pale skin turned dark pink under the pressure of ropes or leather, the strangled cries he kept stifled until the very end of each session, the softness of his body yielding easily to William's manhandling.

"I wish I could," Tony stammers, gaze sliding up to William's eyes and darting away again. "I-I have to... My wife is waiting for me, over there." He points to a lovely woman in a green dress standing a few tables away.

William bows slightly in her direction, and she smiles at him, apparently charmed. To Tony, William says, "In that case, I shan't keep you. It is good to see you again, Tony. I have thought fondly of you often."

"Sir." The word escapes Tony and he appears startled by it. Licking his lips, he reaches into his jacket to produce a silver card case - William is delighted to see that it is the very same one he gave Tony nearly three decades ago, or a close facsimile - and passes a name card to William. "I should be - will be - free tomorrow evening. My wife will be at a women's benefit."

"I shall impose myself on you, then," says William, and grins wickedly when he sees Tony's ears turn pink as he stammers his goodbye. Sitting down again, he waves the server over and places an order for the poached pears. It's a day for something sweet.

[peppermintquartz]

minific, Playroom!verse

TyRo (Mature)

*

Tyler Breeze is getting used to the routine and stability in his life courtesy of Roman, and so when his boyfriend asks if they can talk, Tyler doesn't think too much about it.

But the expression on Roman's face suddenly trips Tyler's alarm bells. Roman isn't making eye contact, and he's wringing his hands subtly; his broad shoulders are tense, like he's getting ready for a fight.

Did I do something wrong? Tyler thinks frantically over the recent past. He spent a night with Joe and Mustafa, because Mustafa wanted to learn more about breathplay and Seth didn't enjoy it as much; he did send racy selfies to Roman after that, but Roman likes getting those, and the sex after he got home had been spectacular. They accidentally ripped the curtain out of its tracks in the game room. The recent pap pics of them and Seffy at the beach were pretty mild, although there were two where they were caught mid-kiss, but that's hardly anything to talk about. Finn has him testing out a sex swing with Seth, which is pretty par for the course - the testing, not the sex swing, that was fun - so Tyler has no clue what is making Roman fidget.

"Hey babe," Tyler manages to say, leaning down to kiss Roman. He'll never be sick of this, he thinks, capturing the younger man's lips with his own, tasting and savoring the feel of Roman's mouth.

Roman kisses back sweetly, but pulls away before it can become heated. "Hey babe." He bites his lower lip and averts his gaze. "Um, I needed to talk to you about something."

Despite the fear making his palms sweat, Tyler pretends that he's not worried as hell. "Yeah, you said. What's wrong?"

Please don't be a breakup speech. Please don't be a breakup speech.

He notices his fingers digging into his knees and forces himself to relax. Roman isn't looking at him. His cheeks are flushed.

"Tyler, don't take this the wrong way, but I... kinda want a change," he begins, and Tyler's heart drops like a stone.

He can't breathe, but he doesn't speak, because if Roman really wants them to break up... Tyler doesn't know if he can accept it, but he's going to hold on to the hope that they're going to be okay, that the celebrity life isn't too much, that the Arrangement isn't too much, that Tyler isn't too much.

Roman inhales sharply, as if he's been holding his breath, and grabs Tyler's hands. Tyler almost jerks away out of shock, still bracing himself for misery and heartbreak, but Roman's hands are cool and clammy.

"Tyler, I want you to know that... Look, this isn't criticism, because I love our sex life, I love that you're so into it and some days I swear I can't believe I get to, you know." Roman finally looks up at Tyler, and sees something in his boyfriend's face. "Oh shit. Tyler, don't cry, I'm not- Shit, no, babe, I'm really not criticizing you, this isn't... Oh fuck. Babe. I'm sorry. I don't mean that we-"

"I don't wanna break up," Tyler croaks out, suddenly aware that tears are leaking out his eyes. He's ready to beg if he has to; he's not going to let Roman go without a fight like the others. "Roman, I love you. I don't wanna break up."

"What? No! We're not- oh fuck. I said it all wrong, didn't I?" Roman pulls Tyler into his arms and hugs him, before kissing his face all over in frantic reassurance. "Babe I'm sorry. God fucking damn it, I'm shit at talking."

Sniffling and relieved, Tyler wipes away his tears and asks, "So... If you didn't wanna break up, what is this talk about?"

"Our sex life," says Roman, and the blush returns twice as strong. "I just... Wanted a change."

Feeling less terrified, Tyler relaxes more into Roman's embrace. "What sort of change are we talking about? Because you know I am very amenable to experimenting."

Roman tenses fractionally, and then mutters, "You're gonna laugh at me though."

"Promise I'll try not to."

"You know how I always, um, do the fucking?" Roman's fingers twitch where they are placed on Tyler's waist. "I was wondering if I could... Or, if, um, you could." His voice drops to an embarrassed whisper. "I want you to fuck me."

Once the words sink in, all the blood in Tyler's body rushes towards his dick. His hands clutch Roman's shoulders tightly.

"Babe?" Roman's voice is soft, almost shy.

"Yeah, I just. Needed to think."

"You don't want to?"

Tyler grabs Roman's hand and puts it on his erection and stares him in the face. "Roman Reigns, if I could, I would fuck your brains out right now." He kisses his boyfriend and murmurs against Roman's mouth, "I would fuck you legless, babe, fuck your name right out of your gorgeous head. I'm gonna do everything I can to make your first time so fucking good that you beg for my cock every night for the rest of your life."

The younger man turns bright red. Finally he licks his lips and says, smiling crookedly, "That's a very big promise."

"I'll do my best to live up to it," says Tyler, grinning. "We start tonight."

[peppermintquartz]

Chapter 13 || Tomorrow

Becky fights the time dilating effect of Tomorrow, but soon she realizes that she doesn't really have to: it's nowhere near as disorienting as when she tried it back in Japan, under Shinsuke’s watchful eye. The aerosolized drug hisses out from the smoke grenades, tinting the room green. The loud, upbeat music adds to the confusion; it’s hard to focus with the thumping, distorted beats and shrill singing. Struggling to her feet, feeling like she is wading through half-melted wax, Becky kicks the two grenades out of the way. One sails into the bushes outside the broken wall, the other rolls to a corner of the room. As she turns around, she is punched, hard enough to make her stagger a few steps.

The Empress is shaking out her hand when Becky struggles back to her shaky, swollen feet, her nose broken. The pain centers her, as does the taste of blood on her tongue. It's good. The effects are there, but nowhere as potent as it is in pill form. Not perfected yet, then.

[Read more on AO3]