Apr 13, 2025
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la knight gifs — raw : june 22nd, 2026.
Punk is definitely excited for the Fatal Four-Way at Clash in Paris.
My bday is the 28th can I pay you for a Damien Priest or LA Knight story. Please 🥺. I’m a plus size reader and a black girl and it’s hard to find stories for those two with any black girls. Especially LA knight… idek anyone that makes any. Tell me the cost ! Or which one you’d prefer doing. Yes smut/fluff or kinks are okay. A story for a first time doing something 😉 would be interesting or where maybe some trolls say something in public and he makes it up to me after 😭😭😭. I’m open to any storyline just with being plus incorporated like your other work
first time ❧ la knight
PAIRING: la knight x black!fem!plus-sized!reader
SUMMARY: in which you and Shaun have been together for almost a year and have never actually had sex, until now. 🧡
AUTHOR’S NOTE: you ain’t gotta pay me to do what i enjoy. happy birthday, sweet girl! 🧡
TAGLIST: @myhobari @saikikay28 🧡
the words “i think i’m ready.” left your mouth before your brain even processed them, and even though you felt a little sheepish saying it, you didn’t regret it.
though you and Shaun had never had sex before, you’d still done other things, but none of those things compared to the impact sex had. both of you knew that sex was something special and that it had to happen when the timing was right, which is why you both held out for so long.
to be specific, Shaun held out because he didn’t want to force you into doing anything you didn’t want to do or weren’t ready for. you held out because you felt shy admitting how much you craved him and refused to say anything to save yourself the embarrassment.
…until now, of course.
“you sure, sweetheart?” Shaun asked softly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation, as he planted his hands beside your head on the bed for leverage and hovered above you, “remember, we don’t have to do this—”
“i know we don’t,” you interrupted him as you reached up and gently cupped his face in one of your hands while you stroked his cheek with your thumb, “but i want to. i want to take that next step.”
Shaun searched your eyes again and a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he adjusted his body between your legs, “you got it, beautiful.”
his lips found yours again and he kissed you tenderly, making you smile against his lips before kissing him back. one of your hands rested on the nape of his neck and the other rested on his shoulder as his hands rested on your chunky waist, holding your body against his and pressing his weight down against you.
the kiss wasn’t rushed or lustful, and neither was Shaun. you giving him the green light to make love to you awoke something deep inside of him, and he’d make it his mission to pleasure you as slowly, tenderly, and passionately as he could.
even if it meant the two of you going at it until dawn.
he peeled your pajamas off nice and slow, cherishing your body like it was a fragile piece of art. granted, it wasn’t his first time seeing you naked, but this moment felt different — special, in a way. neither of you were virgins and had your fair share of sex, but this moment felt like it was your first times all over again, especially yours.
“God, baby, you’re already so wet and i’ve barely touched you.” Shaun groaned once he tugged off your pajama shorts and your panties, his eyes glued to your slick pussy and watching the way your arousal coated your panties.
“hey, she knows what she wants.” you joked, a playful grin crossing your face, as Shaun tossed your bottoms to the side and laughed, his eyes flickering up to your face.
“does she, now?” Shaun smirked and sat up onto his knees as his thumbs hooked inside the waistband of his sweatpants, “why don’t you tell me what she wants then, sweetheart?”
one of your eyebrows raised and a small knowing smirk crossed your lips as your gaze dropped to his waist, watching his thumbs tease the waistband of his pants.
“i think i could show you better than i could tell you, Shaun.”
and just like that, he was fully naked in front of you and kissing you for the third time, lust starting to slowly seep into the atmosphere of the room while his hard dick pressed into your inner thigh.
“let me know, if i hurt you, yeah?” Shaun murmured against your lips, pressing his body against yours, as he slipped a hand between the two of you and grabbed his dick, gently slapping your clit twice with his tip before placing it at your entrance.
you hummed affirmatively into the kiss and your hands rested against his back to brace yourself for impact as Shaun slowly started pushing his way inside you and you gasped sharply, accidentally breaking the kiss due to your jaw going slack.
your eyelids fluttered a little and your grip tightened on his back as you two made eye contact and Shaun didn’t dare look away, his eyes drinking you in while he continued slowly sinking his inches deeper inside you.
“talk to me, baby. tell me how you’re feeling.” Shaun asked huskily, his hands gripping your chunky thighs, as you felt him bottom out and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, a shaky and heavy exhale following the sound once he stopped moving inside of you.
“i-i… i…” you parted your lips to form words but nothing came out but a desperate whimper. you couldn’t say a word. you couldn’t even think straight with him filling you up like this. he was so big and so thick and so deep inside you to the point you could feel everything even though he wasn’t moving. you could feel his sensitive tip and the veins of his dick throb against your walls, and it only reminded you of how deep he truly was inside you.
the feeling was something words couldn’t describe. the way his dick deliciously stretched you out made you feel something you had never felt before. you knew sex with Shaun would be different, but this? this was on a whole other level, maybe even on a whole other dimension or planet.
but once he started actually thrusting… you went wild underneath him.
his hips moved deliberately and precisely, his dick aiming to find all your sweet spots under 5 minutes of him being deep inside your pussy. his thrusts held love and passion, but lust was still lingering around the corner watching the two of you like a hawk.
the way his hips snapped into yours made you feral, and it had you letting out noises and sounds you didn’t even know you could make. and Shaun? Shaun stayed right where you needed him, listening to your pornographic noises and enjoying the sounds you and your pussy made with him fucking you like this.
God, you didn’t know what you were doing to him by sounding all sexy calling out his name.
“you sound so pretty, baby,” Shaun groaned as he buried his face into your neck and pressed kisses against your skin, his thrusts starting to pick up speed, “fuck, you’re driving me crazy, honey.”
“Shaaaaun…” you whined, clinging to his back, as you tossed your head back against the pillows and your jaw dropped, your eyebrows furrowing and your eyes rolling back, “you f-feeel so g-goood, baby. oh, fuuuuck…”
Shaun groaned in response and bit down on a patch of your skin, marking your neck with a hickey and making you whimper in response. your body rocked underneath his as he continue stroking your walls, your legs now hiked up onto his waist to help him drive deeper inside you. your head remained thrown back and your mouth remained gaped open as you continued letting out desperate whines and whimpers, your nails sinking into his back and marking it up with red lines.
honestly, if you knew sex with Shaun would be this good, you wouldn’t have waited so long to ask for it.
“Sh-Shaun, i’m gonna cum! don’t st-stop, baby, i’m al-almost there!” you cried out, your voice shrill and your words cracking, as Shaun raised his head from the crook of your neck and looked down at you, his colored eyes admiring your face and taking in your love faces with a small proud smirk.
“cum for me, beautiful. i’m right here, baby, i’m not stopping until you’re satisfied and filled with my cum.”
Rules
LA Knight (Shaun Ricker) x reader
TW: Mentions of sex, Carmelo Hayes being a flirt, public declarations of affection. It’s a little shorter than what I normally write but I was inspired and I think it came out decent 🤷♀️
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Casual sex.
That’s all it was supposed to be. When Y/N met Shaun Ricker, he was pompous, loud, and unbelievably arrogant.
But that was what made her fall for him in the first place.
His booming voice never failed to get her heart thumping. And behind all that gusto and bravado was a man who was just as sweet as he was obnoxious. Getting to know the man beneath the Megastar was just like completing a fun puzzle. Trying to figure out what pieces fit where to make him who he is.
He felt the same way about her. He was captivated yet infuriated when meeting what the fans considered the women woman of the female division. She was secretive, mysterious, and too damn sexy to be strutting around those dark halls.
What started off as blurring the lines between fighting and flirting turned into hooking up whenever they got the chance. They both agreed, no strings attached, just fun, casual, non romantic sex. Traveling the way they do, being in the field of work they are, it’s hard to maintain a relationship. So when they both agreed to the terms of their so-called “relationship” it was like Christmas came early.
However, things got… difficult from time to time. While everything between them was considered, or not what they considered casual, there were some ground rules set in place along the way.
Y/N’s never considered herself a jealous person, but one night when she caught Shaun laughing just a little too loudly at something one of their on site medics said, she swore she could hear air horns blaring in her ears.
She didn’t do anything at that moment, but when Shaun came knocking on her hotel room door, she made it clear she would only be interested in continuing this “casual” relationship if they did it her way.
Monogamous.
Shaun was more than willing to do it her way when she started laying into him about being too flirty with other women. He found it unbelievably attractive watching her get worked up the way she did over him. Seeing someone so stone cold and put together falling apart for him had to be the best feeling in the world.
Y/N was stretching in the back, prepping for her big match against Tiffany Stratton. It’s not for the championship but for an opportunity at the title later on down the road. She pulls the band in her hands, getting the proper pump in her back muscles when she suddenly feels a pair of lips ghosting on her shoulders.
A small smirk graces her, knowing exactly who those lips belong to. “Hey, you…” A sultry tone is how she chooses to greet him as she leaned back into the solid heat of his chest, stretching the resistance band between her hands. “You do know there’s a whole locker room full of people, right?”
“Let ’em look,” he muttered, his lips still brushing the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “I’ll give ’em somethin’ to talk about.”
She let out a short breath—half amusement, half exasperation. “You really need attention that badly?”
Shaun pulled back just enough to meet her gaze in the mirror. “I don’t need attention. I need you. But if everyone wanna stare while I get my fix, then so be it.”
“Fix?” She arched a brow, toying with the band in her hands. “You talk like I’m your addiction.”
“Oh, baby,” he said with a slow grin, “you have no idea.”
Y/N turned, just slightly, meeting him in that narrow space between her body and his. He wasn’t touching her anymore—not quite—but the way he hovered, his hands braced on either side of her on the bench, caged her in more than a steel chair ever could.
“Be honest,” she said. “You miss me when we’re not rooming together, don’t you?”
Shaun tilted his head, tongue running across his bottom lip. “When I’m not roomin’ with you, I’m not sleepin’. I’m just layin’ there, picturing your smart mouth and those legs wrapped around my waist.”
She laughed softly, her hand brushing up his chest before curling around the collar of his shirt. “You’re such a sap.”
“I’m a mess,” he corrected. “And it’s your fault.”
“And yet,” she said sweetly, stepping back just an inch, just enough to pull him forward by the collar, “you still keep coming back.”
“Because you’re the best mistake I keep making.”
That made her laugh. A real one this time—warm and amused and just a little too affectionate for someone who claimed this was all for fun.
“You know,” she said, toying with the hem of his shirt now, “if you keep flirting with me like that, I might forget I have a match in ten minutes.”
He leaned closer, his voice like thunder in her ear. “Then let’s make it five.”
Y/N laughed again and shoved him back with a hand to his chest. Shaun didn’t let her get far though, grasping her wrist and pulling her back into his chest. “C’mon sweetheart,” he begs. “I don’t need nothin’ fancy… a janitor’s closet, your rental outback, hell, I’ll even take you behind those lockers right there if you think you can keep quiet.”
Y/N shakes her head, biting her lip, “You’re disgusting,” she mumbles, though it doesn’t come out as convincing as she wishes it would. “Y’know, I’m starting to think I need my head checked. Never seem to learn my lesson.”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna need a full psych evaluation if you think I’m lettin’ you go out there without a little pre-match good luck—”
She held up a finger, stopping him in his tracks.
“No. None of that. Not tonight.”
His eyes narrowed, amused but skeptical. “You serious?”
“I need to focus,” she said, winding her band back up. “Tiffany’s not just gonna roll over and let me pin her. Besides… wouldn’t it be that much sweeter to celebrate after I win? Just you and me…” she trails her finger down his chest before leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Naked?”
Shaun clicked his tongue. “Unreal. You get me all worked up, talkin’ like that, lookin’ like that, and then you’re just gonna… leave me here? High and dry?”
Y/N leaned in—just enough that her lips hovered dangerously close to his—and whispered, “Don’t worry pretty boy, we’ll fix that whole dry problem later.”
That groan? It was deeper this time. Frustrated. Rough. Real.
She gave him one last smirk before turning on her heel, her gear hugging her in all the right places as she walked away like she didn’t just leave him simmering in his own damn skin.
And all Shaun could do was stand there, jaw tight, hands flexing like he didn’t know whether to go punch a wall or follow her out to the ring and throw her over his shoulder like a caveman.
“She’s gonna be the death of me,” he mutters just as she disappears out of the room.
Y/N can hear Tiffany’s music echoing throughout the stadium as she heads to gorilla position. She prepares herself, cracking her neck as she waits for her cue. Once one of the stagehands nods at her, she pushes the curtain aside with an attitude that even a spoiled toddler couldn’t rival.
Tiffany Stratton was already in the ring, glistening like a gold-dipped Barbie, all smug smiles and shimmery smugness. She flipped her platinum hair over her shoulder with the kind of arrogance only someone who’d never been humbled could wear.
She posed on the ropes, blowing a kiss to the crowd that got her a chorus of cheers.
The lights dimmed.
A beat of silence.
Then— “Control” by Halsey hit the speakers like a thunderclap.
The bass dropped, and the crowd roared to life.
Fog curled at the base of the ramp. A single red spotlight cut through it like a blade. And through it all walked Y/S/N—shoulders squared, jaw set, every inch of her radiating danger.
This wasn’t a woman coming to compete. This was a woman coming to conquer.
The playful smirk that usually teased the edge of her lips was gone. There was no wink for the camera, no hand-slap to the fans at ringside. Her eyes were locked on Tiffany Stratton with laser precision, the kind of focus that stripped a person down to their bones.
She climbed the steel steps, ducked between the ropes, and stalked across the ring like a lioness. The air in the arena shifted—like everyone could sense something big was about to happen.
Ding ding ding.
Tiffany exploded out of the corner with a screech and a slap, trying to catch Y/S/N off guard with sheer chaos.
Big mistake.
Y/S/N caught her wrist mid-swing, twisted it behind her back, and sent her sprawling with a crisp Japanese arm drag that earned a surprised pop from the crowd.
“She’s not here to play,” Wade Barrett said from commentary. “She’s here to make a statement.”
Tiffany scrambled to her feet, mascara already smudging from the sheer impact. She threw a wild lariat. Y/S/N ducked under, hit the ropes, and came flying back with a running single-leg dropkick that cracked across Tiffany’s chest.
The sound alone got a “OHHHHHH!” from the crowd.
Tiffany rolled out of the ring, clutching her sternum and gasping like someone had just stolen the air from her lungs.
Y/N leaned over the ropes, hair falling forward, and said loud enough for the hard cam to catch, “Come on, Blondie. That all you got?”
Tiffany screamed something unintelligible, slapped the steel steps in frustration, and climbed back in.
She tried to take control with some cheap tactics—hair pulls, eye gouges when the ref’s back was turned, stomps to the foot.
Y/S/N answered every dirty trick with something sharper.
Snap suplex.
Hammerlock backbreaker.
Hard European uppercut in the corner that left Tiffany staggering like a drunk on New Year’s Eve.
“She’s got Stratton rattled,” Joe Tessitore called. “Y/S/N is absolutely picking her apart!”
Tiffany got one moment of hope—climbing the ropes for her signature Prettiest Moonsault Ever—but Y/N rolled to her feet with feline grace and caught her mid-air with a thunderous sit-out powerbomb that shook the canvas.
“GOOD GOD,” Barrett shouted. “SHE JUST FOLDED HER IN HALF.”
Y/N didn’t go for the pin. Not yet.
She stood, slow, deliberate. Her expression unreadable. She looked down at Tiffany, breathing heavy, and then yanked her up by the hair.
The crowd surged to its feet. They knew what was coming.
She hooked the arms.
Lifted.
And drove her down with her finisher:
“The Final Say” —a brutal double underhook brainbuster that bounced Tiffany off the mat like a ragdoll.
1… 2… 3.
DING DING DING.
The crowd went wild.
Y/N rolled to her knees, chest heaving, fists planted into the mat. Still no smile. Still no celebration. Just that quiet, dangerous calm that said: I told you I was next.
“Here is your winner… Y/S/N!”
Tiffany rolled out of the ring, clutching her neck and mumbling curses, but nobody cared. All eyes were on the woman standing tall in the center of the ring, her theme music echoing through the arena like a war anthem.
There was no belt on her waist—yet—but the message was loud and clear: She wasn’t coming for it. She was taking it.
The adrenaline still surged in Y/N’s veins when she stepped back through the curtain, the roar of the crowd still echoing faintly in her ears. Sweat clung to her skin beneath her gear, every muscle in her body thrumming from the fight, from the win, from the high of knowing she’d owned that ring tonight.
Someone handed her a water bottle—she nodded her thanks absently and cracked it open, barely stopping to breathe before high-fiving a tech guy, winking at a camera op, and throwing her towel over her shoulder like a war general returning from battle.
She was still grinning when she turned the corner—
—and froze.
Carmelo Hayes was slouched on a bench just past the medics’ station, his usual cocky confidence noticeably dimmed. One of the trainers knelt beside him, gently rotating his arm while he winced through clenched teeth.
Y/N’s smile dropped instantly. “What the hell happened?”
The words were out before she could think. She was already moving, rushing to his side, dropping to her knees beside the bench as if instinct had kicked in before logic could catch up.
Melo looked up with a lopsided grin, even as he shifted uncomfortably. “Just a bad bump,” he said, trying to shrug it off—literally and figuratively—but wincing when the motion sent pain shooting down his shoulder. “Tweaked something. I’m good.”
She ignored the bravado. “You’re not good.” Her brow furrowed as her fingers hovered carefully over the area the medic was icing. “It’s swollen. It’s definitely more than tweaked.”
“Damn,” he said with a grin, “you worried about me, L/N?”
“Of course I’m worried about you, dumbass,” she shot back, but her voice was softer now. Her fingers gently tapped his forearm. “You’re my tag partner next week. If you’re benched, I’m gonna get stuck in some stupid backstage segment.”
Carmelo chuckled, then leaned in just a little—too close, if you asked the man standing down the hall.
“You’re real cute when you’re bossy,” Melo murmured, tilting his head. “Remind me to fake an injury more often.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her with the faintest grin.
“I know,” he said. “But at least I’ve got charm to back it up.”
She stood and offered her hand. “Come on. I’ll help you to the trainer’s room. You shouldn’t be walking around like this.”
Carmelo didn’t hesitate—he looped his arm around her shoulder, his body pressing just slightly too close to hers as she helped him up. He leaned into her with the casual ease of someone who’d imagined this moment more than once.
She didn’t notice. But someone else did.
Shaun’s voice cracked through the tension like thunder. “Y/N.”
She turned instinctively. Carmelo straightened, but didn’t move from her side.
Shaun was walking toward them with purpose—broad shoulders tense, jaw working like he was physically biting back a string of words. His eyes scanned the scene in one quick sweep, landing first on her, then on Melo, then back to her.
“You need help gettin’ him there?” Shaun asked, voice low and clipped.
Y/N blinked, her tone gentle. “No. I’ve got it.”
A beat passed. It should’ve ended there. But of course, Carmelo couldn’t help himself.
“You know she’s a saint, right?” he said, directing the words at Shaun with a lazy smile. “Putting up with me and keeping up with you? That’s Olympic-level patience.”
Shaun’s jaw ticked.
Y/N sighed. “Melo—”
But Melo just smirked, unbothered. “She’s got a thing for high-maintenance, I guess.”
Then—because he was Carmelo Hayes—he winked.
And that was it.
Shaun turned without a word. His boots pounded the concrete as he stalked off, muscles rippling under his T-shirt like he was two seconds away from throwing something—preferably someone—through a wall.
He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to move. His jaw was locked so tight it hurt, his shoulders square and stiff like he was holding back the urge to knock someone straight into catering. Hopefully that joker in sneakers and a smug grin who thought they were slick with his girl.
His girl?
He shook his head, frustrated.
Not your girl, remember? That’s what the deal was supposed to be. Just fun. Just sex. Just two people blowing off steam.
So why the hell did it feel like someone had stuck a knife under his ribs the second she said, “I got it”?
Why did “I got it” feel like “I don’t need you”?
“Y’know,” a voice chirped beside him, sweet with trouble, “usually when you look like this, it’s after a loss. What happened, cowboy? You get pinned by your own feelings?”
Shaun didn’t look over. Just let out a clipped, “Not now.”
But Lacey Evans wasn’t one to be brushed off easily. She jogged a step to keep up, high ponytail bouncing behind her, a wicked grin dancing on her lips.
“Oooh, so it is about a girl. Let me guess. Little Miss Mysterious gave you the cold shoulder?”
“Lacey…” he warned, voice low.
“Relax, I’m just messin’.” She nudged him with her elbow. “But come on, Ricker. Since when do you sulk? You’re like the king of the rebound. I’ve seen you charm someone into your hotel room with half a wink and two syllables.”
“Yeah?” Shaun muttered, still not looking at her. “Well maybe I’m not in the mood.”
That gave her pause. “Okay, now I know something’s up. You’re not in the mood?” She scoffed. “What, she got herself a new tag partner and now you’re jealous?”
His stride faltered just slightly, his mouth twitching like he was holding back a thousand things he didn’t want to say.
Lacey grinned wider, seeing an opportunity and going for it. “Look, you and me both know the best way to get someone outta your head is—”
“Lacey.” He stopped suddenly.
She nearly collided into him, hand shooting out to brace herself against his chest. “Whoa. Easy.”
Shaun looked at her, finally. But his usual spark, that cocky light in his eye—it wasn’t there. Not fully. Something in him looked rattled. Like a man who just realized the fire he lit might burn down the whole damn building.
His voice came low, edged with something raw.
“I can’t do this.”
She blinked. “Can’t what?”
He hesitated for half a beat. Like the words had to fight their way out.
“Can’t flirt. Can’t do this. ‘Cause–” He sucked in a breath, shook his head. “’Cause there’s rules,” he grunts out frustrated.
Lacey raised both brows, hands on her hips. “I’m sorry?”
“There’s rules,” he said again, sharper now. “She set ‘em. No other people. No side flings. Just her. And I said fine. I said yes. Hell, I didn’t even blink.”
“She wanted this. She wanted monogamy. Exclusivity. And I didn’t argue. Because I…” he trailed off, swallowing hard, He looked away, like it physically pained him to admit it out loud.
Lacey stared, trying to process his rambling, “You what?”
Shaun just continued on, exhaling through his nose as he talks himself through his own mind. “I was fine with casual. I really thought I was. But then she said she wanted it her way—and I didn’t even think twice. Because somewhere along the line it stopped being casual. And now I can’t even look at another woman without feeling like I’m screwin’ it up.”
He dragged a hand down his face, jaw clenching hard. “And then tonight she tells me she’s ‘got it,’ and walks off with Melo like I’m some extra in her life? Nah, nah.”
He looked back at Lacey, eyes stormy.
“She wanted these damn rules. And I followed ‘em. But now? Now I want everyone to know I’m following ‘em. That she’s mine. Not just when the door’s closed. Not just between the sheets. Mine every damn day.”
Lacey watches as he spins on his heel, still not comprehending what she’s listening to. “Shaun–”
But he didn’t turn around, he didn’t smile, didn’t joke, didn’t say anything back. He just continued on and walked off, more sure of where he was going this time.
Because he was done playing pretend.
Done being the secret.
If Carmelo or anyone else wanted to flirt with Y/N? They were about to learn what it meant when LA Knight claimed something—someone—for good. And this time, there were no blurred lines.
The buzz of the med bay was a dull hum in the background, overshadowed by Carmelo’s easy laugh and Y/N’s quiet voice as she pointed something out to the medic. Melo was sitting on the table now, legs dangling, his shirt off to allow better access to his shoulder while the medic taped it up. Every so often, he cracked a joke, just enough to keep the mood light.
Y/N rolled her eyes at him—but she smiled too, and that’s what did it.
Carmelo’s eyes were locked on Y/N, who stood a little too close—at least from Shaun’s perspective as he stepped just around the corner.
“Look at you,” Melo drawled, voice low and flirtatious. “My own personal nurse and you throw hands in the ring like it’s nothing.”
Y/N huffed a small laugh, clearly amused. “Is that your way of asking me out? Because I don’t date people who can’t lift both arms.”
Melo smirked, undeterred. “Nah, not askin’ you out. Just lettin’ you know—if you ever get tired of dealing with men who don’t know what they got? I’ll remind you real quick.”
And Y/N laughed. She laughed.
That was it.
Shaun moved before he even realized it.
His hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist—not hard, not rough, but firm enough that she felt it. She turned, startled, eyes locking onto his. There was a storm behind them—something brewing that wasn’t going to be ignored.
“Shaun—”
“We need to talk.”
She blinked. “I’m kind of in the middle of something—”
“No,” he said again, firmer this time. “Now.”
He didn’t wait for her to argue. He was already walking, pulling her along behind him, not giving a damn who watched. They cut around the side of a row of stacked production crates until they were tucked away, out of sight. Not that he cared about privacy at this point—he wasn’t about to keep any of this quiet.
He dropped her wrist and planted his hands on her hips, backing her into the crates gently but with purpose. His eyes burned into hers like they were made of wildfire.
“You remember those rules you laid out a few months ago?” he asked, voice low and dangerous in a way that made her stomach flip.
Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Yeah…What does that have to do with anything?”
“I want them too. Every single one. No seeing other people. No acting like we’re available. No flirty bullshit with other guys—because you’re mine.”
She blinked, thrown off by the intensity in his tone. Her mind finally catches up to her, and that’s when she realizes what’s got him so worked up. He’s jealous. “Wait. This is about Melo?”
“Damn right it is,” Shaun growled. “You think I’m gonna stand there and watch him look at you like that? Watch you laugh at his stupid jokes like he’s got a shot? Hell no.”
“Shaun, what the hell is wrong with you—”
“You!” he snapped, then immediately ran a hand through his hair like he was trying to rein it in. “You are what’s wrong with me. You got in my head, sweetheart. You laid out all those rules like you were doing me a favor, like you were giving me boundaries, and I said yes. I said yes because I thought I could handle it. But you know what I realized tonight?”
Y/N folded her arms, her breath shallow. “…What?”
His chest rose and fell. “I don’t want to handle it. I don’t want you casual. I don’t want you part-time. I don’t want a secret thing that happens in hotel rooms when no one’s looking.”
Her heart thudded against her ribs.
“I want all of it. I want you. And I’m not gonna be quiet about it anymore. You want monogamy?” He leaned in, nose brushing hers. “You got it. You want exclusivity? Fine. But you better know it goes both ways.”
He stepped back just enough to gesture wildly between them.
“This ain’t just sex anymore. It stopped being just sex the second you started caring about how I drink my coffee and remembering my sister’s birthday. And now, if some goober like Carmelo freakin’ Hayes thinks he can swoop in while I’m standin’ ten feet away?” His voice dropped to a low, growling thunder. “I’ll kick his ass with you on my arm and the whole damn locker room watching.”
Y/N didn’t say anything right away.
She just stared at him. Calm. Still.
“Are you done?”
He scoffed. “Not even close.”
And then he grabbed her.
One hand went to her waist, the other to the back of her neck, and he yanked her into him, smashing his mouth to hers like it was the only thing in the world that could shut him up.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was all teeth and heat, all that tension between them catching fire in an instant. Her hands gripped his shirt, and he backed her harder into the crates, devouring her breath, her body, her silence. When he pulled back, it was only to look at her, lips swollen, eyes wide.
“You wanna know what the biggest rule is?” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. That’s it. That’s the whole damn contract.”
Before she could reply, he dipped down and swept her up, throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.
“Shaun!” she laughed, half protesting, half breathless.
He didn’t stop. Just strode out into the hallway—the very same one full of crew, talent, agents, and backstage eyes—like he owned the place. Because tonight? He did.
They passed a group of rookies and road agents. A few people turned. A couple of heads snapped up. And right in the middle of the chaos, he yelled without shame:
“HEY! In case anyone’s wonderin’— This!” He smacks her ass, the sound resounding through the entire backstage area. “Mine.”
More heads turned. Someone whooped. Laughter rang out in surprise.
And through it all, Y/N stayed over his shoulder, hand pressed to her face, half-mortified, half-thrilled.
Because dammit, he meant every word.
And so did she.
YEAH!
