TeamChasezWrites

I’m TeamChasez on here and AO3. I like to write! Mostly fluff. Sometimes smut.

[teamchasezwrites]

MASTERLIST

Find all my stories quickly here. Most are fluff. Some might be smut. All can be found on A03 under Team Chasez. All my stories are finished at the time of posting. I do not post multi-chaptered stories without the story being completely finished. No cliffhangers here. Sometimes I use the same names across stories, mostly because that’s the type of stuff that will paralyze me trying to figure out when writing a story. Stories of the same universe or stories that are related will be marked.

Cody Rhodes/Jey Uso:

Showering Away Self Doubt *smut*

Helping Hand *smut* (SASD universe)

Cody Rhodes/Roman Reigns:

Cuffed *smut*

Jealousy *smut*

Jealousy: Mine (Coming Soon) (Sequel to Jealousy)

Mistaken Identity *smut*

Damian Priest:

24 Part I Part II Part III *Smut*

A Slice Of Life

Breed You *smut*

Chasing Nightmares

Girl Crush

MASH *smut* 🥉

Never Have I Ever

On Bended Knee *smut*

Opening Day (‘The Stocking’ Universe)

Tell Me When You’re Sober *Dirty Talk*

Thigh Master *smut* (Coming Soon)

Sober *smut* (Follow up to TMWYS)

The Stocking

Second Chance Part I Part II Part III

Secret Santa

Damian Priest/Finn Balor:

Purple Heart *Smut*

Damian Priest/Rhea Ripley:

Oneirophrenia

Damian Priest/OC/Roman Reigns:

For Your Eyes Only *smut*

Drew McIntyre:

Still of the Night

Saved By The Mountain Man *smut*

Finn Balor:

Jolly Old Saint Finn *smut*

Oral Arguments *smut*

Roman Reigns:

The Ride *smut*

Taste *smut*

Seth Rollins/Becky Lynch:

Scattering of Emotions

Calming of Emotions (Companion to Scattering)

[teamchasezwrites]

WWE fanfic writers rn:

[isabella-2025]

Behind Closed doors 

Pair: Damien Priest X Rhea Ripley X Finn Balor 

Plot: When an unexpected announcement shakes SmackDown, Finn Bálor and Damian Priest rush through the chaos of the night to get home to the one person who needs them most. Injured, frustrated, and overwhelmed by the noise of the outside world, Rhea Ripley finds herself breaking in ways she never lets anyone see — except them. As the three navigate hurt, comfort, and the quiet safety of their shared secrecy, they’re reminded that some battles aren’t fought in the ring, but in the moments where love becomes the only thing strong enough to hold someone together.

Song: Shatter Me — Lindsey Stirling ft. Lzzy Hale

This story explores the quiet, vulnerable moments that happen far away from the arena lights — the ones where strength falters and the people closest to you become the only anchor left. After a chaotic night on SmackDown, Finn Bálor and Damian Priest return home to find Rhea Ripley hurting in ways she never lets the world see. What follows is a blend of comfort, frustration, and the fierce loyalty that binds the three of them together.

Inspired by the emotional intensity of Shatter Me, this fic focuses on healing, connection, and the battles fought behind closed doors — the ones that matter most. ❤️💕🥺

The show opened cold with Adam Pearce standing in the ring, the crowd buzzing under the lights.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an update regarding the Women’s Champion, Rhea Ripley.”

The arena quieted instantly.

“Rhea has been recovering from a torn meniscus for several weeks. She’s been working nonstop with WWE Medical, and she’s close — but not close enough. She will not be cleared to compete at SummerSlam.”

A wave of shock rolled through the audience.

“With her return date still uncertain, WWE will crown an interim Women’s Champion. Starting tonight, five women will compete for spots in a ladder match at SummerSlam. The winner will hold the interim title until Rhea returns… and when she does, we’ll find out who the true, undisputed Women’s World Champion is.”

He lowered the mic.

“That decision is official.”

The crowd erupted as the opening music hit.

Backstage, the monitor flickered with Pearce’s announcement

Finn Bálor stood in front of it, already in his gear for his match with Talla Tonga — wrist tape half‑finished, boots laced, jaw tight. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared at the screen like the words hadn’t fully hit him yet.

A few feet away, Damian Priest stood with R‑Truth, going over cues for his solo segment with CM Punk later in the show. Truth was talking, animated as always, but Damian wasn’t hearing a word.

His eyes were locked on the monitor.

Truth finally noticed.

“Dawg… you good?”

Damian didn’t answer. His jaw flexed once, slow.

Finn muttered under his breath, low and sharp:

“…Interim champion. They’re really doing it.”

Damian exhaled hard through his nose.

“She didn’t relinquish the title. She didn’t.”

Finn shook his head, still staring at the screen.

“They’re acting like she did.”

Truth looked between them, confused but concerned.

“Y’all look like somebody just told you Santa ain’t real.”

Damian ignored him.

“She’s gonna lose her mind.”

Finn finally tore his eyes from the monitor and looked at Damian — that quiet, loaded look only people who love the same woman understand.

Finn: “We need to get to her.”

Damian: “After your match. After my segment. We go straight home.”

Truth blinked.

“Home? I thought y’all were just—”

Damian cut him a look that shut him up instantly.

Finn finished taping his wrist, movements sharp and angry.

Damian grabbed his gear bag, shoulders tense.

They didn’t stand close.

They didn’t speak again.

They didn’t make it obvious.

But both men were already planning the same thing:

Get through the show.

Get out of the arena.

Get home to Rhea.

Before either man could say another word, a stagehand called out that Finn’s entrance was in thirty seconds — forcing him to tear his eyes from the monitor, shake off the anger, and head toward gorilla for his match with Talla Tonga.

Finn didn’t even get a full minute to breathe after Pearce’s announcement. He was already in his gear, already taped up, already pacing, trying to shake off the anger before heading to the ring.

The moment he stepped through the curtain, the Tongans were waiting.

Talla Tonga stood in the ring like a wall — seven feet of fury, power, and bad intentions.

Tama Tonga circled at ringside, eyes locked on Finn, still seething from last week’s embarrassment.

The bell rang.

Talla came at Finn immediately, using his size to bully him into the corner, crushing him with heavy body shots that echoed through the arena. Finn tried to slip out, tried to use his speed, but every escape just made Talla angrier.

On the outside, Tama paced like a shark.

At one point, Talla lifted Finn and dropped him jaw‑first onto the edge of the announce desk. The crowd groaned. Finn’s head snapped back violently, and he staggered, dazed, barely able to stay upright.

The referee was distracted for half a second — and Tama took it.

He grabbed Finn by the skull and drove a forearm into him, vengeance for last week’s loss. Finn’s leg got caught awkwardly on the barricade, twisting, leaving him vulnerable.

Talla dragged Finn back into the ring and dominated him — slamming him, tossing him, crushing him with sheer power. Every time Finn tried to fight back, Talla shut him down.

But Finn is Finn.

He slipped out of a chokeslam attempt, sent Talla crashing into the turnbuckle, then sprinted outside and hit a Slingblade on Tama that took the ringside threat out completely.

The crowd exploded.

Finn rolled back in, hit a shotgun dropkick that launched Talla into the corner, then climbed the ropes.

Coup de Grâce.  

The big man didn’t stay down.

Finn climbed again.

Second Coup de Grâce.

He covered him.

One. Two. Three.

The bell rang.

Finn’s music hit.

And commentary called it exactly what it was — a brutal, chaotic win over both Tongans, and a massive statement for Finn’s SmackDown run.

Finn slipped out of the ring the second his music hit, adrenaline still buzzing under his skin as he made his way through the curtain. The moment he stepped backstage, the noise of the arena faded into the hum of production crews and rushing stagehands. He didn’t stop to talk, didn’t celebrate, didn’t even grab a bottle of water—he just found an empty spot off to the side near the monitor wall, dropped onto a crate, and fixed his eyes on the screen. Damian’s segment with Punk was coming up next, and Finn needed to see it. Needed to know how Damian was holding himself together after Pearce’s announcement. Needed to be close, even if nobody else understood why.

The monitor flickered, switching from commercials to a live backstage shot.

Punk had just got done talking to Adam Pearce, and Damian Priest was standing there waiting.

Punk said,

“What’s up big man, we good?”

Damian replied,

“Oh, we’re good. Honestly appreciate the shoutout last week. I hope you understand — if you’re still champ after SummerSlam, I’m gonna be standing right here waiting for you.”

Punk smirked.

“I hope you are. And you know what? I hope you’re still champ, because me and Cody are gonna go on a tear. We’re gonna beat Gunther and Sami tomorrow… and then who’s to say we won’t come after you? Double champ CM Punk sounds good to me.”

Damian nodded once.

“Alright. Sounds good to me, bro…”

They fist‑bumped, the segment ending on that respectful, dangerous promise.

Finn exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping as the screen faded out. Damian looked calm, collected, professional — but Finn knew better. He knew exactly what was boiling under Damian’s skin after Pearce’s announcement. And he knew they both needed to get home to Rhea as soon as the show was over.

The second the segment with Punk faded off the monitor, Finn pushed himself up from the crate, rolling his sore shoulder once before grabbing his bag. He didn’t need to say anything—Damian was already heading toward him from down the hall, gear bag slung over his shoulder, expression tight but focused.

They didn’t make a scene.

They didn’t rush.

They just walked with purpose, side‑by‑side but not too close, slipping through the backstage traffic like two men who had somewhere important to be.

Truth called something after Damian, but Damian only lifted a hand in acknowledgment. Finn didn’t even look back.

By the time they reached the parking lot, the adrenaline from the night had worn off, replaced by the same quiet urgency they’d both felt since Pearce’s announcement. Damian unlocked the car, tossed his bag in the back, and Finn slid into the passenger seat without a word.

They knew exactly where they were going.

SmackDown played softly on the TV in Damian’s living room, the volume low enough that the commentary blended into the background hum. Rhea sat curled on the couch, her injured knee wrapped neatly in fresh bandaging. She had on Finn’s Balor Club sweatpants—too big on her, hanging loose at the hips—and one of Damian’s hoodies, sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

Her title sat on the coffee table in front of her, close enough to touch, far enough away that she didn’t have to look at it.

She wasn’t crying.

She wasn’t breaking down.

She was just… quiet.

Focused.

Watching every match, every segment, every moment like she was studying a battlefield she couldn’t step onto.

When Pearce’s announcement replayed during the recap package, she exhaled slowly, jaw tightening, fingers curling into the fabric of Damian’s hoodie.

She hated being sidelined.

She hated being replaced.

But she hated being alone even more.

And she knew they were coming home

The drive to Damian’s house was quiet, the kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward—just heavy. Heavy with Pearce’s announcement. Heavy with everything they couldn’t say out loud in public. Heavy with the need to get home to her.

Damian unlocked the front door, Finn right behind him, both stepping inside like they’d done it a hundred times.

Rhea looked up the second she heard them.

She didn’t say a word.

She didn’t pretend to be fine.

She didn’t try to act tough.

She just held her arms out toward Finn.

Not Damian.

Not both of them.

Finn.

Because according to her, Finn gives the best cuddles, and tonight she needed that more than anything.

Finn dropped his bag instantly and crossed the room in three steps. He slid onto the couch beside her, letting her fold herself into him—her head tucked under his chin, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, her knee carefully resting across his lap so he wouldn’t bump it.

He wrapped his arms around her like he’d been waiting all night to do it.

Damian watched them for a moment—soft, fond, protective—before heading straight to the kitchen.

Salt & Vinegar Chips rheas favorite 

So Damian grabbed the bag from the pantry, popped it open, and brought it over without saying anything—just setting it on the coffee table beside her title.

Rhea didn’t reach for it yet.

She just tightened her hold on Finn, breathing him in, grounding herself.

Damian sat on her other side, close but not crowding, one hand resting gently on her wrapped knee.

The three of them sat there like that—quiet, warm, together—while SmackDown continued playing softly in the background.

Rhea didn’t let go of Finn for a long moment. She just stayed tucked against him, breathing slow, steady, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Damian set the salt & vinegar chips on the table, then sat beside her, one hand resting gently on her wrapped knee.

Finn rubbed slow circles on her back.

Damian waited, patient, quiet.

Finally, Rhea exhaled — a shaky, frustrated breath.

“...I’m upset at myself,” she whispered.

Finn’s arms tightened around her automatically.

Rhea swallowed hard.

“I shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I shouldn’t have let it happen. And I should be healing faster. I should be back already. I should be out there. Not sitting here watching someone else fight for my title.”

Damian leaned in a little, voice low and steady.

“Rhea… you didn’t choose this.”

She shook her head, eyes stinging, fingers curling tighter into Finn’s shirt.

“I’m supposed to be unstoppable. I’m supposed to be the one carrying the division. And instead I’m sitting here with my knee wrapped like some rookie who didn’t know how to land right.”

Finn rested his forehead against the top of her head.

“Hey. No. You’re allowed to be human.”

Rhea’s voice cracked.

“I don’t want to be human. I want to be champion. And I feel like I’m letting everyone down — you two, the fans, myself…”

Damian reached over, gently cupping the side of her face so she’d look at him.

“You didn’t let anyone down,” he said softly. “You got hurt doing your job better than anyone else. And you’re healing as fast as your body can. That’s not failure. That’s reality.”

Finn nodded, his thumb brushing her shoulder.

“And we’re not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not when they crown an interim champion. We’re here. With you.”

Rhea’s eyes finally softened, her body relaxing between them — held, supported, safe.

Rhea stayed tucked against Finn’s chest, breathing slow and shaky, Damian’s hand warm on her knee. For a moment, it felt like she might settle — like the worst of the storm had passed.

But then her breath hitched.

Finn felt it immediately.

Damian saw her shoulders tense.

Rhea pulled back just enough to look at them, eyes glassy, lashes wet. She swallowed hard, trying to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her phone on the coffee table.

“...I didn’t want to show you this,” she whispered.

Finn’s brows knit with concern.

Damian leaned in, quiet, steady.

Rhea unlocked her phone with shaking hands and turned the screen toward them.

Comments.

Hundreds of them.

Scrolling fast, ugly, relentless.

“She doesn’t deserve to keep the title.”  

“Interim champ is better than her anyway.”  

“Good. She’s injured. Maybe someone worthy will take over.”  

“She’s faking it.”  

“She’s scared to defend.”  

“She should’ve been stripped.”  

“Hope she never comes back.”

Her voice cracked.

“I don’t… I don’t understand what I did. I gave everything. I wrestled hurt. I pushed through everything. And they’re happy I’m injured. They’re happy I’m gone.”

Finn’s face softened with heartbreak.

Damian’s jaw clenched, fury simmering under the surface — but not at her.

Rhea’s breath broke entirely, a sob ripping out of her before she could stop it. She covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking, the phone slipping from her grip onto the couch.

Finn pulled her into him instantly, arms wrapping around her tight, protective, grounding.

Damian shifted closer, one hand on her back, the other gently brushing her hair away from her face.

“Rhea… sweetheart… no,” Finn murmured, voice low and warm. “Those people don’t know you. They don’t know how hard you fight. They don’t know how much you give.”

Damian nodded, leaning in so she could hear him through her sobs.

“They’re not the ones who matter. They’re loud because they’re miserable. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t fail. You got hurt — and that happens to every single wrestler alive.”

Rhea shook her head against Finn’s chest, tears soaking into his shirt.

“But they hate me. They’re glad I’m gone.”

Damian’s voice dropped to a soft, steady rumble.

“They don’t hate you. They hate that you’re strong. They hate that you’re champion. They hate that you’re everything they wish they could be. And they’re wrong. Every single one of them.”

Finn tightened his hold, rocking her gently.

“We’re here. We’re not going anywhere. Cry as long as you need. We’ve got you.”

And she did.

She cried — hard, messy, shaking — for a long time.

Finn held her the whole time, arms never loosening.

Damian stayed right beside her, rubbing slow circles on her back, whispering quiet reassurances whenever her sobs spiked.

Eventually, her breathing slowed.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Her fingers curled into Finn’s hoodie and Damian’s hand at the same time — holding onto both of them like anchors.

She wasn’t okay yet.

But she wasn’t alone.

Not for a single second.

It took a long time for Rhea’s sobs to fade.

Finn held her through every single one, arms wrapped around her like he was shielding her from the whole world.

Damian stayed close, rubbing slow circles on her back, grounding her with quiet reassurances.

Eventually, her breathing steadied.

Her shoulders loosened.

Her fingers unclenched from Finn’s shirt.

She wasn’t okay — not fully — but she wasn’t drowning anymore.

Damian brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, gentle in a way only she ever saw.

“Good girl,” he murmured softly. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Rhea nodded, wiping her face with the sleeve of Damian’s hoodie.

Finn kissed the top of her head.

“You’re doing so good, love.”

She exhaled shakily.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.”

Damian shook his head.

“You’re allowed to fall apart. Especially with us.”

He stood, grabbed his phone from the counter, scrolled for a moment — then tapped a song.

The soft, haunting intro of “Shatter Me” filled the living room.

Rhea’s eyes widened.

“You remembered…”

Damian held out his hand.

“Come here.”

She hesitated — knee wrapped, eyes still red — but she took his hand. Damian pulled her gently to her feet, careful of her leg, guiding her into his arms.

He rested one hand on her waist, the other on her back, swaying slowly with her in the dim light of the living room.

Rhea melted into him, forehead against his chest.

Then Finn stepped up behind her, sliding his arms around her from the back, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder.

She was held between them — safe, warm, loved — the world outside completely gone.

Damian whispered against her hair,

“You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever.”

Finn tightened his hold, voice low and soft in her ear.

“We’ve got you. Always.”

Rhea’s eyes fluttered shut, tears slipping down her cheeks again — but this time, they weren’t from pain.

They were from relief.

Damian leaned down, kissing her temple.

Finn kissed her cheek from behind.

And then Damian said it — the truth they’d never say outside these walls:

“The world will never know you’re ours. And that’s a good thing… because we’d have to beat everyone’s ass who ever said a bad thing about you.”

Finn nodded, lips brushing her ear.

“Every single one of them.”

Rhea let out a tiny, broken laugh — the first sound of joy she’d made all night — and held onto both of them tighter.

Between them, she wasn’t the injured champion.

She wasn’t the target of cruel comments.

She wasn’t the woman being replaced by an interim title.

She was theirs.

And she was safe.

The End

TAGLIST

@acute-crashout-jeyuso @empressdede @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @femdisa @mytribalnightmare @eringobragh420 @southerngirl41 @officialeve24 @usoinked @bossbitch-22 @madhatterbri @purplementalitybluebird @bloodlinemadness @holycollectivekitty @jstarr86 @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @duhitzkay380 @bloodlinesbabe93 @theusotwinzcom @thebigredmonster @chynagirl13 @mamis-girly @transparentphantomface @amazinggirlsstuff @spiicii @mselenalovebug @sharmelasworld @moxley99 @crazylady20 @myleelovesfood @jeysbitch @skyesthebomb @fafomama @keenagurl @chocobuttabaybee @terrortwinunicorn @mamis-girly2 @lovelyjay45 @wwestrang-fan @bossbitch-25 @xnightmarexpunkx @ctinadiva @nash2023 @ztrek808 phoebe0391 @bigbackbri @armanihouse @bibonacita23 @scorpiodivazchamp @pruningthebreeze @dwill484 @rememberingvirgo @ambreignsfan4life @mikaelsonharem7 @teamchasezwrites

[teamchasezwrites]

Love it! Damian x Rhea x Finn?! *chefs kiss*

[teamchasezwrites]

Insert this directly into my veins…

[princedevitt]

[teamchasezwrites]

[teamchasezwrites]

Summer Slam might be it for me…

I can’t take this slop anymore.

[teamchasezwrites]

My opinion (that no one asked for) on Rhea vacating the title for an “interim” champion?

I like it.

We all knew upon returning Rhea would get a championship match almost immediately and take the belt back. This just lets fans (mostly the whining IWC) know Rhea’s getting a championship match. Get used to it.

I also think this is a big opportunity. It’s a test. Can they handle it? How are the fans reacting? Are the fans accepting? Do they like this champ? Is the woman able to handle it? The pressure. This could very well lead to retaining or even getting it back later for a real run.

Do not put Charlotte or Jade in this match. Leave their feud alone. Do not ruin it. Do not insult Charlotte with an interim title. Let these two women run their feud. Give them matches to qualify but cost each other. Add that layer in.

Don’t be stupid and think Rhea isn’t coming back to the title. They gotta be eye balling Crown Jewel for either Rhea/Iyo or Rhea/Liv.

She’s not the first injured wrestler to vacate the belt and come right back to the belt. (Or the first wrestler to be injured and come back to an immediate big win and title shot-win combo.)

My money? Jacy is winning this.

[teamchasezwrites]

Never mind…

They are playing it safe.

Charlotte or Jade is winning the championship at Summer Slam.

[princedevitt]

[punksyeetgifs]

CM Punk & Damian Priest Backstage Segment

WWE SmackDown - July 17th, 2026

🏷️: @spiicii @romanreignsbae @rollinsland @xnightmarexpunkx @mari3st4r @ashuhleawrites @disastardly @plaidpajamallama @beloved-cadaver @storybook-clan ⋆˙⟡

[teamchasezwrites]

I’m ready for Damian to be out of the tags and back into the title picture.

Let’s fucking go!

[teamchasezwrites]

I’m sorry. That was my fault.

I actually thought there was no way creative could fuck up the entrants to a ladder match.

I was wrong.

Adding 2 people who didn’t need to be in there. Charlotte will be next. I wouldn’t be shocked if they add either Roxanne or Raquel.

Hell at this point, just add Liv and Iyo.

[teamchasezwrites]

The fuck do you mean you just put your UNITED STATES CHAMPION in the match at Summer Slam for the vacated Women’s championship instead of DEFENDING HER OWN TITLE!!

Swear to God, Creative couldn’t find a good story if they were in the middle of a fucking library.

[teamchasezwrites]

My opinion (that no one asked for) on Rhea vacating the title for an “interim” champion?

I like it.

We all knew upon returning Rhea would get a championship match almost immediately and take the belt back. This just lets fans (mostly the whining IWC) know Rhea’s getting a championship match. Get used to it.

I also think this is a big opportunity. It’s a test. Can they handle it? How are the fans reacting? Are the fans accepting? Do they like this champ? Is the woman able to handle it? The pressure. This could very well lead to retaining or even getting it back later for a real run.

Do not put Charlotte or Jade in this match. Leave their feud alone. Do not ruin it. Do not insult Charlotte with an interim title. Let these two women run their feud. Give them matches to qualify but cost each other. Add that layer in.

Don’t be stupid and think Rhea isn’t coming back to the title. They gotta be eye balling Crown Jewel for either Rhea/Iyo or Rhea/Liv.

She’s not the first injured wrestler to vacate the belt and come right back to the belt. (Or the first wrestler to be injured and come back to an immediate big win and title shot-win combo.)

My money? Jacy is winning this.

[teamchasezwrites]

Noooooo Finn v Talla tonight???

What did we do to deserve this??

😭😭

[isabella-2025]

End of Days 

Pair; Becky Lynch X Seth Rollins 

Plot: When Baron Corbin hits Becky Lynch with End of Days in the middle of their Extreme Rules match, the world sees the shock. Seth Rollins sees something else — the woman he loves lying motionless on the mat The match explodes into chaos as Seth attacks Corbin in a rage, fear and adrenaline taking over. But once the bell rings and the titles are retained, Seth’s focus shifts entirely to Becky. Backstage, the medical team checks her ribs while Seth refuses to leave her side, his hand locked around hers like he’s afraid to let go. And when they finally get home, Becky sees just how shaken he really is. On the couch, wrapped in Seth’s arms, she listens as he admits the truth he couldn’t say in the arena — he was scared. He’s never been scared in a match before. Not until tonight. Becky comforts him, holding him close until his breathing steadies, and Seth finally relaxes with her safe in his arms. A night that began with chaos ends quietly, tenderly — with Seth whispering that he’s got her, always.

Song: “Saturn” — Sleeping At Last

Okay so um… this one shot had me in my FEELINGS. I forgot how insane that moment was until I rewatched it and then suddenly I was like “oh yeah Seth was actually terrified.” So I wanted to write something soft and emotional because honestly? He looked like he was about to cry in real life.

This fic is basically me exploring that “holy crap I almost lost you” energy and letting Seth be all shaken and clingy and protective because he LOVES that woman. And “Saturn” fits the vibe perfectly — soft, tender, a little heartbreaking, but also really warm.🥺💕😊

Once again thank you @teamchasezwrites for this idea please keep them coming. 😊

Becky and Seth had been unstoppable all night — a perfect mix of chemistry, chaos, and championship instinct. Every time Becky landed a kick, Seth shouted encouragement from the apron. Every time Seth hit a blockbuster, Becky smirked like she knew exactly how good her man was.

The crowd was loud, the kind of loud that made the ring shake. Extreme Rules meant anything went, and Becky made sure Lacey Evans understood that. A kendo stick to the spine, a chair to the face — nothing slowed the Man down.

Seth and Becky moved like a unit, baseball slide into suicide dive, sending Corbin and Lacey scrambling. Every near fall felt like the titles were hanging by a thread.

Becky was on fire, throwing Lacey into barricades, smashing her face into steel chairs, hitting a leg drop off the ropes that made the crowd roar.

Seth wasn’t far behind — stomping Corbin into the corner, kicking him square in the jaw, driving him into the chair he’d set up.

They were winning.

They were in control.

They were champions.

And then everything changed.

Becky slid back into the ring, ready to finish Lacey once and for all. Seth was on the apron, catching his breath, watching her with that proud little smile he always got when she was in her zone.

Corbin stepped in behind her.

Seth’s voice cracked.

“Becky—NO!”

Becky turned—

Corbin’s hands were already on her.

He lifted her clean off the mat.

The crowd gasped.

Seth’s heart stopped.

End of Days.

Becky hit the canvas hard, the sound echoing through the arena like a gunshot.

Seth didn’t think.

He didn’t breathe.

He just ran.

“BECKY!”

He dropped to his knees beside her, hands hovering, terrified to touch her, terrified not to.

Becky groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

“Seth…”

Seth’s voice broke.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

Corbin backed away, smug, hands raised like he didn’t care what he’d done.

Seth stood up slowly — shaking, furious, protective in a way no one had ever seen before.

He turned toward Corbin.

And something inside him snapped.

Seth didn’t hear the crowd anymore.

He didn’t hear the commentary.

He didn’t hear anything except the sound of Becky hitting the mat and the way she said his name like she wasn’t sure she could breathe.

Corbin smirked.

Like he was proud of it.

Like hurting Becky was just another move in the match.

Something inside Seth snapped.

He stood up so fast the ropes shook, his chest heaving, eyes locked on Corbin with a fury no one had ever seen in him before.

“You don’t touch her,” Seth growled, voice shaking. “You NEVER touch her.”

Corbin barely had time to react.

Seth launched himself at him, fists flying, every strike fueled by panic and adrenaline and pure, protective rage.

The crowd erupted.

Seth drove Corbin into the corner, unloading on him — not for the match, not for the titles, but because Becky Lynch was still lying on the mat behind him trying to get air back into her lungs.

Corbin tried to cover up, but Seth didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

“You think you can put your hands on her?” Seth shouted, voice cracking. “You think you can do that and walk away?”

Another strike.

Another.

Corbin stumbled out of the corner, dazed.

Seth hit a stomp.

The arena exploded.

Lacey Evans scrambled out of the ring, terrified.

Seth didn’t even look at her — his eyes were still locked on Corbin, shaking with fury.

He hit a second stomp.

The crowd counted with him.

Seth backed up, chest rising and falling like he couldn’t get enough air.

He looked over his shoulder — Becky was still down, trying to push herself up.

That was all it took.

Seth charged forward and hit a third stomp, the kind that made the entire arena shake.

Corbin didn’t move.

Seth dropped to his knees beside Becky again, hands hovering, voice soft and breaking.

“I’m here. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Becky reached for him weakly, fingers brushing his wrist.

Seth covered her hand with his, protective even in the middle of the ring.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

Seth’s voice cracked. “You scared me.”

Becky tried to smile. “You got him back.”

Seth didn’t look away from her. “I wasn’t thinking about him.”

He was thinking about her.

Only her.

Becky was still on the mat, breathing shallow, one hand pressed to her ribs. Seth stayed kneeling beside her, one hand hovering over her shoulder like he was afraid to touch her wrong.

The medical team slid into the ring fast — two trainers, a doctor, and a ref waving them over.

“Becky, talk to me,” one of the trainers said, kneeling on her other side.

Becky blinked hard, trying to focus. “I’m… I’m okay. Just—wind knocked out of me.”

Seth’s voice cracked. “She’s not okay. Check her.”

He didn’t move.

He didn’t back up.

He stayed right there, practically shoulder‑to‑shoulder with the medical staff, eyes locked on Becky like she might disappear if he looked away.

“Seth,” Becky whispered, trying to give him a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he said, softer this time. “You took End of Days. You shouldn’t have taken that.”

The doctor gently pressed along Becky’s ribs. She winced, sucking in a breath.

Seth flinched like he felt it.

“Any sharp pain?” the doctor asked.

“No,” Becky said. “Just sore.”

Seth leaned closer, voice low. “Bex… you don’t have to be tough right now.”

Becky reached for his wrist again, fingers curling weakly around him. “I know. But I’m still here.”

Seth swallowed hard, brushing her hair back from her face with trembling fingers.

“I thought—” He stopped, voice breaking. “I thought you weren’t getting up.”

The medical team exchanged looks — she was stable, responsive, breathing normally.

“She’s okay,” one of them said gently. “We’ll keep an eye on her, but she’s okay.”

Seth exhaled shakily, shoulders dropping like someone had finally taken a weight off him.

Becky squeezed his wrist again. “See? Told you.”

Seth didn’t smile. Not yet.

He was still too shaken.

“I’m not leaving you,” he murmured. “Not for a second.”

Becky sat on the medical table, ice pack pressed to her ribs, breathing slowly as the trainers finished checking her over.

Seth hadn’t moved from her side.

Not once.

His hand found hers — not tentative, not gentle, but desperate.

Like he needed to feel her skin under his palm to believe she was really okay.

Becky looked down at their hands, then up at him.

His eyes were still blown wide with adrenaline, fear, and something deeper — something she’d only seen a handful of times in all the years they’d known each other.

“Seth…” she whispered.

He didn’t let go.

His thumb brushed her knuckles, shaky.

“I thought you weren’t getting up,” he said quietly, voice rough. “I thought—”

He stopped, swallowing hard.

Becky’s chest tightened.

She slid off the table slowly, ignoring the trainer’s warning, and stepped right into him.

Seth froze for half a second — then wrapped his arms around her like he’d been waiting for permission.

Becky pressed her cheek to his shoulder, her arms looping around his waist.

“Hey,” she murmured. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

Seth’s breath hitched against her hair.

“You scared me,” he whispered.

Becky squeezed him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Seth shook his head, pulling her even closer. “Don’t apologize. Just… don’t ever take a bump like that again.”

Becky smiled softly into his shoulder. “I’ll try.”

Seth didn’t let go.

Not for a long moment.

Not until he felt her breathing steady against him.

And even then… he kept one hand on her back, like he needed the contact to stay grounded.

Seth didn’t let go of Becky’s hand the entire ride home.

Not when they walked through the parking lot.

Not in the car.

Not even when she tried to shift to get comfortable.

He held her hand like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

When they got inside, Becky tried to head toward the bedroom, but Seth gently tugged her toward the couch instead.

“Sit with me,” he said quietly.

Becky nodded, easing down onto the cushions. Seth sat beside her, close but careful, one arm slipping around her shoulders like he needed to feel her breathing.

Becky leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.

For a long moment, Seth didn’t speak.

He just held her — one hand on her arm, the other rubbing slow circles on her back, grounding himself in the fact that she was warm, alive, and safe.

Finally, he exhaled, shaky and uneven.

“I was scared,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been scared in a match before.”

Becky’s brows softened. She shifted just enough to look up at him.

Seth swallowed hard.

“When Corbin hit you with End of Days… I didn’t think you were getting up. I didn’t think—”

His voice cracked, and Becky’s heart squeezed.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

Seth froze for half a second — then melted into her, burying his face in her shoulder.

Becky held him tighter, rubbing his back gently.

“Hey,” she murmured. “I’m okay. I promise.”

Seth’s breath hitched. “I’ve never felt anything like that. Not in the ring. Not ever.”

Becky pressed her cheek against his temple. “Because it wasn’t just a match.”

Seth nodded, arms tightening around her.

“I know,” he whispered. “That’s why it scared me.”

Becky hugged him again, slow and steady, letting him feel her heartbeat against his chest.

“I’m here,” she said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Seth didn’t let go.

Not for a long time.

Becky eventually drifted off against Seth’s chest, her breathing slow and steady.

Seth didn’t move.

He didn’t dare.

He just held her, one hand stroking her arm, the other resting over her ribs like he could protect her from anything that might hurt.

And for the first time since the match, he finally felt his heartbeat settle.

Becky was safe.

Becky was home.

Becky was with him.

Seth pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Always.”

And that was how the night ended — not with chaos, not with fear, but with Seth holding the woman he loved, grateful she was still in his arms

The End

TAGLIST

@acute-crashout-jeyuso @empressdede @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @femdisa @mytribalnightmare @eringobragh420 @southerngirl41 @officialeve24 @usoinked @bossbitch-22 @madhatterbri @purplementalitybluebird @bloodlinemadness @holycollectivekitty @jstarr86 @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @duhitzkay380 @bloodlinesbabe93 @theusotwinzcom @thebigredmonster @chynagirl13 @mamis-girly @transparentphantomface @amazinggirlsstuff @spiicii @mselenalovebug @sharmelasworld @moxley99 @crazylady20 @myleelovesfood @jeysbitch @skyesthebomb @fafomama @keenagurl @chocobuttabaybee @terrortwinunicorn @mamis-girly2 @lovelyjay45 @wwestrang-fan @bossbitch-25 @xnightmarexpunkx @ctinadiva @nash2023 @ztrek808 phoebe0391 @bigbackbri @armanihouse @bibonacita23 @scorpiodivazchamp @pruningthebreeze @dwill484 @rememberingvirgo @ambreignsfan4life @mikaelsonharem7

[teamchasezwrites]

Call me crazy, but I do love the Seth x Becky even if they are a real couple.

[isabella-2025]

After the Fall 

Pair: Damien Priest X Cathy Kelly 

Plot: When Finn betrays Damian at SummerSlam, the world sees the storyline. Cathy Kelley sees the man behind it — hurt, blindsided, and alone backstage trying to hold himself together. She’s forced to interview Finn moments later, tension simmering between them as he gives her a look she can’t ignore. But when Cathy finds Damian sitting alone afterward, she chooses to sit with him, listen to him, and be the one person who doesn’t judge his pain. The next morning, Damian texts her from an unknown number, asking to meet. Over coffee, he opens up about losing the title, losing trust, and losing the version of Judgment Day he thought would last. Cathy listens, steady and patient, and Damian finally admits something he’s kept quiet for years — he’s always liked her. Cathy tells him she feels something too… but wants to take things slow. And Damian agrees. Slow is enough.For now.

Song: “Like Real People Do” — Hozier

Okay so this one shot is just… soft. Like painfully soft. I wanted Damian and Cathy to have that quiet little moment where everything is messy around them but they’re gentle with each other. Slow, careful, emotional — all the vibes.

“Like Real People Do” is literally the perfect song for them because it’s got that hesitant, intimate energy where you’re like “okay maybe this could be something if we don’t rush it.” And that’s exactly what this fic is — two people easing into something new without forcing it.

Anyway, here’s me being sentimental about Judgment Day imploding. Enjoy. 🥺💕😊

Thank you @teamchasezwrites for this ship idea i actually liked writing for them and if you want a second part to this let me know. 😊

Cathy watched the monitor from the production area, her headset half‑off as the crowd roared.

Finn’s turn hit like a shockwave — the kind that makes everyone freeze for a second before the noise catches up.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t breathe.

She just stared as Damian’s face fell on screen, betrayal hitting him harder than any bump he’d taken that night.

The segment ended.

The crowd kept screaming.

Cathy finally exhaled. “Damn…”

Footsteps echoed behind her. Heavy. Slow.

Damian walked past the production crates, jaw tight, eyes unfocused, like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer force.

He didn’t look at anyone.

He didn’t speak.

He just kept walking.

Cathy’s heart pulled.

But she didn’t follow — she had a job.

And that job was about to get harder.

“Cathy, you’re up,” a producer called. “Interview with Finn. Now.”

Her stomach dropped.

She grabbed her mic, straightened her blazer, and walked toward the interview area.

Finn was already there — calm, collected, smug in a way that made her skin prickle.

“Ready?” he asked, voice smooth.

Cathy nodded, even though she wasn’t.

The interview started.

Finn talked about “doing what needed to be done,” about “weak links,” about “evolution.”

Cathy kept her face neutral, but her chest felt tight.

When the camera cut, she lowered her mic. “Thanks.”

She turned to leave.

Finn’s eyes followed her — sharp, cold, almost offended that she wasn’t impressed.

Cathy didn’t look back.

She walked down the hallway, the noise of the arena fading behind her.

And that’s when she saw him.

Damian stood alone in the corner near catering, hands braced on the table, head down.

No crew around him.

No Judgment Day.

No one.

Cathy swallowed, stepped closer, and spoke softly.

“Damian… are you okay?

He lifted his head like he hadn’t expected anyone to speak to him, let alone her.

His eyes softened for half a second.

“Oh… um—Cathy. Hey.”

He tried to straighten up, wiping a hand over his face like he could erase everything Finn just did.

“Didn’t think anyone saw me over here.”

Cathy stepped closer, her voice low so no one else could hear.

“I saw.”

Damian swallowed, looking away. “Yeah. Guess everyone did.”

Cathy shook her head gently. “Not like I did.”

Damian’s jaw tightened, the hurt flickering across his expression before he could hide it.

“It’s whatever,” he muttered. “He made his choice.”

Cathy didn’t move. Didn’t leave.

“And you’re allowed to feel something about it,” she said softly.

Damian let out a breath — shaky, quiet, the kind he didn’t want anyone to hear.

“I don’t… I don’t really know what I feel right now.”

Cathy didn’t hesitate — she slid onto the bench beside him, close enough to show she was there, far enough to give him room.

Damian kept his eyes on the floor, fingers flexing restlessly against his knee.

“I had the world title,” he said quietly, like the words were heavy in his mouth.

Cathy nodded, listening.

“I had a couple months with it,” he continued, voice rough. “And I wanted more time. I wasn’t done. I wasn’t ready to let it go.”

He swallowed hard.

“But they wanted to run this angle.”

Cathy’s chest tightened. “Damian…”

He shook his head, jaw clenching.

“I don’t like it,” he admitted. “It feels wrong. It feels like… like I’m losing something I fought my whole life for.”

Cathy’s voice softened. “You didn’t lose anything. Not really.”

Damian let out a humorless breath. “Feels like I did.”

She leaned in just a little. “You didn’t lose your talent. You didn’t lose your momentum. And you didn’t lose who you are.”

Damian finally looked at her — really looked at her — eyes tired, hurt, searching.

“Then why does it feel like everything’s slipping?”

Cathy didn’t look away.

“Because betrayal always hits harder than the storyline.”

Cathy’s voice stayed gentle as she reached out, her fingers brushing his arm.

Damian froze.

Not in fear — in surprise.

Like he wasn’t used to someone touching him when he was hurting.

His eyes flicked down to her hand, then up to her face.

Something softened in him, just for a moment.

Before he could say anything, footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Rhea.

Her makeup was smudged, her chest tight with uneven breaths, eyes red from crying.

“Dame…” she whispered, voice breaking.

Damian stood immediately, instinct taking over.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest as she shook.

“I know,” he murmured into her hair. “I know, Ree.”

Cathy stepped back quietly, slipping away so they could have their moment.

She didn’t want to intrude — not when Rhea was shattered from Dom choosing Liv.

But as she turned to leave, Damian’s eyes found her over Rhea’s shoulder.

He mouthed it softly, just for her:

“Meet me in the morning.”

Cathy nodded once, heart catching in her throat, and disappeared down the hallway.

Cathy’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, dragging her out of a light, restless sleep.

She blinked at the screen.

Unknown Number.

For a second, her heart kicked — she didn’t know why.

Maybe she did.

She opened the message.

“Can you meet me at the café down the street?”

She stared at it, thumb hovering.

Another buzz.

“It’s Damian.”

Cathy exhaled, sinking back against her pillow.

He didn’t call.

He didn’t send a long explanation.

Just that simple, quiet request.

She typed back before she could overthink it.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

She sat up, brushing her hair back, the memory of last night hitting her all over again — the way he froze when she touched his arm, the way he held Rhea, the way he looked at her over Rhea’s shoulder and mouthed meet me in the morning.

Cathy swallowed, grabbed her jacket, and headed out the door.

The café was quiet that morning — soft music, warm lights, the smell of espresso drifting through the air.

Cathy stepped inside, scanning the room until she saw him.

Damian sat in the corner booth, hoodie pulled up, hands wrapped around a mug he hadn’t touched.

When he saw her, something in his shoulders eased.

He stood, pulling her chair out without thinking — like it was instinct.

“Morning,” he said softly.

Cathy smiled. “Morning.”

She sat, and Damian slid back into his seat across from her.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I… uh… wanted to apologize,” he said. “For last night. When you touched my arm.”

Cathy tilted her head. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Damian shook his head. “I froze. I didn’t mean to. I just… I wasn’t expecting anyone to care.”

Cathy’s expression softened. “Damian, you were hurting. Anyone would freeze.”

He looked down at his hands, thumb tracing the rim of his mug.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said quietly. “About everything. About Finn. About the title. About Judgment Day. About where my head’s at.”

Cathy didn’t interrupt.

She didn’t judge.

She just listened — really listened — and Damian noticed.

“I don’t know what’s next,” he admitted. “I don’t know what this means for the group. Or for me. I just… I feel like everything shifted overnight.”

Cathy nodded. “It did. But you’re allowed to take a breath before deciding what comes next.”

Damian looked up at her, eyes softer than she’d ever seen.

Slowly, he reached across the table and took her hand.

His fingers were warm, steady, careful — like he was afraid she’d pull away.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

Cathy’s heart kicked. “Yeah.”

Damian swallowed, thumb brushing her knuckles.

“I’ve always liked you,” he said quietly. “But Finn was always… weirdly protective.”

He met her eyes.

“Any idea why?”

Cathy’s breath caught for a moment — not in shock, but in that quiet “okay, we’re really doing this” way.

She didn’t pull her hand back.

She let Damian hold it, steady and warm across the table.

“You want the truth?” she asked softly.

Damian nodded.

Cathy exhaled. “Me and Finn… we messed around a little when he was in NXT.”

Damian’s eyes flickered — not angry, not jealous, just understanding.

“It wasn’t serious,” she continued. “We were both young, both busy, both… figuring things out.”

She looked down at their hands for a moment.

“I moved on. He didn’t really.”

Damian leaned back slightly, absorbing that. “So that’s why he always acted weird around you.”

Cathy nodded. “He wasn’t possessive. Just… protective in a way that didn’t make sense anymore.”

Damian’s thumb brushed her knuckles — slow, thoughtful.

“That’s why he gave you that look last night,” he murmured.

Cathy swallowed. “Probably.”

Damian didn’t look away.

“And that’s why I wanted to talk to you today,” he said quietly. “Because whatever Finn feels… whatever he thinks… I needed you to know how I feel.”

Cathy’s heart kicked. “Damian…”

He squeezed her hand gently.

“I meant what I said. I’ve always liked you.”

Cathy didn’t pull her hand away.

She let Damian hold it, steady and warm between both of them.

“Damian…” she said softly, her thumb brushing his knuckles. “I like you too.”

His breath caught — barely, but she saw it.

“But,” she continued gently, “I want to take things slow. Really slow. Just… ease into it.”

Damian nodded immediately, no hesitation, no frustration.

“Yeah,” he said. “I can do slow.”

Cathy smiled, relieved. “Good. Because last night was a lot. For both of us.”

Damian leaned back slightly, still holding her hand like he didn’t want to lose the connection.

“I didn’t ask you here to rush anything,” he said. “I just… wanted to talk to you. Wanted you to know how I felt. And I wanted to know if you felt anything too.”

Cathy’s voice softened. “I do. I just want to move carefully. No pressure. No expectations.”

Damian nodded again, slower this time.

“Then we’ll go at your pace,” he said. “Whatever that looks like.”

Cathy’s chest warmed. “Thank you.”

Damian finally let go of her hand — not abruptly, but gently, like he didn’t want her to feel trapped.

“So,” he said, a small smile tugging at his mouth, “slow it is.”

Cathy smiled back. “Slow.”

The End

TAGLIST

@acute-crashout-jeyuso @empressdede @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @femdisa @mytribalnightmare @eringobragh420 @southerngirl41 @officialeve24 @usoinked @bossbitch-22 @madhatterbri @purplementalitybluebird @bloodlinemadness @holycollectivekitty @jstarr86 @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @duhitzkay380 @bloodlinesbabe93 @theusotwinzcom @thebigredmonster @chynagirl13 @mamis-girly @transparentphantomface @amazinggirlsstuff @spiicii @mselenalovebug @sharmelasworld @moxley99 @crazylady20 @myleelovesfood @jeysbitch @skyesthebomb @fafomama @keenagurl @chocobuttabaybee @terrortwinunicorn @mamis-girly2 @lovelyjay45 @wwestrang-fan @bossbitch-25 @xnightmarexpunkx @ctinadiva @nash2023 @ztrek808 phoebe0391 @bigbackbri @armanihouse @bibonacita23 @scorpiodivazchamp @pruningthebreeze @dwill484 @rememberingvirgo @ambreignsfan4life @mikaelsonharem7

[teamchasezwrites]

Damian x Cathy is almost a guilty pleasure! Love the Finn tidbit as well in there!

[isabella-2025]

The Elevator incident 

Pair: Finn Balor X Bayley 

Plot: A Vegas hotel lobby, a post‑show crowd, and one moment that gets way too close for comfort. Bayley slips away to breathe, Finn notices instantly, and what happens next is the kind of quiet chaos no one downstairs will ever know about. It’s a soft, protective little story about being there for someone when they need it most — even when nobody else realizes what’s really going on. 

Okay so… hi. I’m actually soft about this one because The Elevator Incident turned into something way gentler and more protective than I expected. It’s not dramatic in a big, loud way — it’s the quiet kind of chaos that happens when the night gets overwhelming and someone steps in at exactly the right moment.

The song for this fic is “Shelter” by FINNEAS, because that’s the whole heartbeat of this story. That warm, steady feeling of I’ve got you, even when nobody else sees what’s happening. The way everything gets loud downstairs but soft upstairs. The way someone becomes your safe place without making a big deal out of it.

This fic is about protection, comfort, and that tiny pocket of calm you find with the right person. It’s simple, it’s quiet, and it’s full of the kind of softness I love writing.

Thanks for reading — I hope it makes you feel held for a minute. 🥺💕

Thank you @teamchasezwrites for this request i loved writing it. 🥺

The Vegas hotel lobby was loud in that way only wrestling weekends could be — fans everywhere, flashes popping, voices echoing off the marble floors.

AJ and Bayley walked in first, side‑by‑side, deep in conversation about the show. Bayley was animated, hands moving as she talked, AJ laughing at every dramatic retelling.

Punk and Finn followed a few steps behind them, both relaxed, both in that post‑show haze.

“Man, Dom’s face when you came out in the Demon paint?” Punk said, shaking his head. “I was cracking up backstage. Kid looked like he saw a ghost.”

Finn smirked. “He wasn’t expecting it.”

“No one was expecting it,” Punk added. “You scared the hell outta production.”

Finn laughed, but his eyes kept drifting forward — toward Bayley. She rubbed her shoulder again, the same one she landed on weird in the fatal four‑way tag match. He’d been meaning to ask if she was actually okay.

AJ slowed down as a group of fans approached, already pulling out pens.

Bayley smiled politely… then quietly slipped away, drifting toward the elevator bank like she wanted a moment to breathe.

Finn noticed instantly.

Punk did too.

“She’s not with AJ anymore,” Punk muttered.

Finn’s brows pulled together. “Yeah. I saw.”

AJ started signing autographs, Punk stepping closer to keep the crowd from pressing in too tight.

Finn took one step forward — toward Bayley.

Punk glanced back at him. “Go. I’ve got AJ.”

Finn didn’t hesitate.

He headed toward the elevators, weaving through the lobby crowd, eyes locked on Bayley’s retreating figure.

He’d wanted to check on her after that nasty spot in the match.

Now he had a reason to hurry.

Bayley reached the elevator bank with a relieved exhale. It was quieter here — or at least, it looked quieter.

A little girl tugged gently at her sleeve. “Bayley? Can I have your autograph?”

Bayley’s whole face softened. “Of course, sweetheart.”

She knelt down carefully, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder, and signed the girl’s notebook with a big smiley face.

“Thank you!” the girl beamed before running back to her mom.

Bayley stood, brushing her hair back…

And that’s when the crowd shifted.

One fan became three.

Three became ten.

Phones came out, voices rose, and suddenly Bayley was pressed back toward the wall — her bad shoulder hitting the corner of the marble pillar.

She winced.

A man stepped in too close, arm brushing hers, phone practically in her face. “Bayley, look here—”

She tried to move away, but the crowd boxed her in.

“Guys, please—”

Her voice was small.

And Finn heard it.

Finn didn’t think — he moved.

“Back up,” he said sharply, cutting through the crowd like a blade.

The handsy guy turned, annoyed. “I just want a picture—”

“I said back up.”

Finn stepped between Bayley and the crowd, one arm out, the other reaching behind him to guide her away from the wall.

Bayley’s breath shook. “Finn—”

“I’ve got you.”

He cleared a path with his body, pushing the crowd back without touching anyone, voice firm and controlled.

“Give her space. She’s done for the night.”

Someone shouted Finn’s name. Another tried to shove a phone past him.

Finn didn’t budge.

He reached back, found Bayley’s hand, and pulled her toward the open elevator.

“Come on.”

She stumbled in, clutching her shoulder.

Finn hit the button.

The doors slid shut just as Punk’s voice echoed across the lobby — loud, furious, unmistakable.

“HEY. BACK UP. SHE’S SIGNING FOR THE KIDS ONLY.”

AJ’s voice followed, sharp and protective. “Don’t crowd people like that!”

The elevator doors closed completely, cutting off the chaos.

Bayley leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

Finn stood in front of her, chest rising and falling, adrenaline still buzzing under his skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Bayley nodded, but her eyes were glassy. “My shoulder… I hit it again.”

Finn stepped closer, voice softening. “I knew that spot messed you up.”

She looked up at him, exhausted. “I didn’t want to make a big deal.”

“You don’t have to,” Finn said. “Just tell me when you’re hurting.”

Bayley swallowed hard.

The elevator hummed as it climbed.

Finn stayed right there — not crowding her, not touching her, just present.

Safe.

Steady.

The kind of presence that made her finally breathe.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached her floor.

Bayley stepped out first, still holding her shoulder, her breath uneven from the crowd and the pain. Finn stayed close behind her — not hovering, just… there.

The hallway was quiet, carpeted, dimly lit. A complete contrast to the chaos downstairs.

Bayley exhaled shakily. “Thanks for… y’know. Back there.”

Finn nodded. “You don’t have to thank me.”

She walked a few more steps, then slowed.

“Finn?”

He looked over at her, brows softening. “Yeah?”

Bayley hesitated — just for a second — then said it.

“Can you… stay? Just for a minute? I need help wrapping my shoulder. And the ice pack is in my room.”

Finn didn’t even blink.

“Of course.”

Bayley unlocked her door and stepped inside, flicking on the lamp. The room was quiet, warm, lived‑in from the long weekend.

She went straight to the mini‑fridge, pulling out a hotel ice pack she’d grabbed earlier.

Finn closed the door behind them gently.

“Sit,” he said softly.

Bayley sat on the edge of the bed, letting her arm fall into her lap.

Finn grabbed the wrap from her bag — she didn’t even have to tell him where it was — and knelt in front of her.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” he murmured.

Bayley nodded, eyes tired. “It already hurts.”

Finn gave a small, sympathetic smile. “Then we’ll make it better.”

He pressed the ice pack to her shoulder, gentle but firm, and she sucked in a breath.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back.

He wrapped the band around her shoulder carefully, fingers brushing her skin only when he had to, movements slow and precise.

Bayley watched him — the focus in his eyes, the care in his hands, the way he didn’t rush or fumble or make a joke to lighten the moment.

He was just… present.

When he finished, he sat beside her, letting her test the wrap.

“Better?”

Bayley nodded. “Yeah. A lot.”

Finn leaned back slightly, finally letting himself breathe.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly.

Bayley looked down at her lap. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Finn said. “But you don’t have to handle everything alone.”

Bayley swallowed hard.

“I know.”

          Bayley flexed her shoulder gently, testing the wrap. It hurt, but not the sharp, stabbing kind — more like a dull ache settling in.

Finn stayed sitting beside her, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely. He wasn’t rushing to leave, and she wasn’t asking him to.

“You really scared me out there,” he said quietly.

Bayley let out a small breath. “I didn’t mean to. I just… needed a second.”

“You could’ve told me.”

She looked down at her lap. “I didn’t want to make it a thing. Everyone was already dealing with enough.”

Finn shook his head. “You’re not ‘a thing.’ You’re allowed to need help.”

Bayley’s eyes softened. “I know. I just… forget sometimes.”

Finn leaned back slightly, studying her face. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Bayley swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t pretending. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

Finn’s lips twitched into the smallest smile. “I’m always gonna worry.”

She nudged him lightly with her knee. “You don’t have to.”

“I do,” Finn said, voice warm. “That’s part of the job.”

Bayley blinked. “Job?”

Finn stood, reaching for the discarded ice pack to put it back in the fridge. “Yeah.”

He turned back toward her, expression soft, almost amused.

“They’ll have no idea I just saved my girlfriend.”

Bayley’s breath caught — not in shock, but in that quiet, familiar way she always reacted when he said it out loud.

She smiled, small and real. “No,” she said. “They won’t.”

Finn stepped closer, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And that’s fine. As long as you’re okay.”

Bayley nodded, eyes warm. “I am now.”

Bayley shifted on the edge of the bed, testing her shoulder again. The wrap held, the ice was helping, and the pain was finally settling into something manageable.

Finn stayed beside her, quiet, calm, watching her with that steady focus he always had after a long night.

“You okay now?” he asked softly.

Bayley nodded. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Finn exhaled, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. “Me too.”

She looked at him for a long moment — the way he’d stepped in downstairs, the way he’d wrapped her shoulder, the way he hadn’t left her side once.

“Can you stay?” she asked, voice small. “Just for a little while?”

Finn didn’t even pretend to think about it. “Of course.”

Bayley scooted back on the bed, careful of her shoulder, and Finn sat beside her. She leaned gently into him, her head resting against his chest.

He froze for half a second — not out of surprise, but out of wanting to make sure she was comfortable.

“Is this okay?” he murmured.

Bayley nodded against him. “Yeah. It helps.”

Finn relaxed, letting his arm rest lightly around her waist, nowhere near her injured shoulder. Just enough to keep her steady.

The room was quiet.

The hum of the air conditioner.

The soft Vegas lights bleeding through the curtains.

Bayley’s breathing slowed first, her body finally letting go of the adrenaline and fear.

Finn felt her settle, felt her weight soften against him, felt her trust.

He rested his cheek lightly on top of her head.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered.

Bayley mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch — something warm, something grateful — and then she drifted off completely.

Finn stayed awake a little longer, listening to her breathing, making sure she was comfortable, making sure the ice pack hadn’t shifted.

Eventually, his eyes grew heavy too.

He tightened his arm just slightly, keeping her close, keeping her safe.

And the two of them fell asleep like that — quiet, steady, wrapped around each other in the softest way.

Hidden.

Safe.

And absolutely no one downstairs had any idea that Finn Balor had just saved his girlfriend and ended the night holding her until she slept.

The End

TAGLIST

@acute-crashout-jeyuso @empressdede @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @femdisa @mytribalnightmare @eringobragh420 @southerngirl41 @officialeve24 @usoinked @bossbitch-22 @madhatterbri @purplementalitybluebird @bloodlinemadness @holycollectivekitty @jstarr86 @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @duhitzkay380 @bloodlinesbabe93 @theusotwinzcom @thebigredmonster @chynagirl13 @mamis-girly @transparentphantomface @amazinggirlsstuff @spiicii @mselenalovebug @sharmelasworld @moxley99 @crazylady20 @myleelovesfood @jeysbitch @skyesthebomb @fafomama @keenagurl @chocobuttabaybee @terrortwinunicorn @mamis-girly2 @lovelyjay45 @wwestrang-fan @bossbitch-25 @xnightmarexpunkx @ctinadiva @nash203 @ztrek808 phoebe0391 @bigbackbri @armanihouse @bibonacita23 @scorpiodivazchamp @pruningthebreeze @dwill484 @rememberingvirgo @ambreignsfan4life @mikaelsonharem7

[teamchasezwrites]

This was great!

[isabella-2025]

Back then, even now 

Pair: Finn Balor X Bayley 

Plot: After a brutal night in London leaves Bayley shaken and vulnerable, she returns home to Orlando searching for something steady to hold onto. Finn steps in without hesitation, offering comfort, quiet support, and the kind of warmth she hasn’t felt in a long time. Over the next few days, the two fall back into an easy rhythm that feels just like their earliest days in NXT — soft, familiar, grounding. But when Bayley finally opens up about her doubts and fears, Finn shares something of his own that changes everything, leading them to a moment years in the making. 

I don’t even know how to explain this one except… it hit me right in the chest and wouldn’t let go. Bayley’s London heartbreak, Finn’s quiet softness, the way they fall back into that old NXT rhythm — it all came together so naturally I just had to write it. It’s tender and a little bruised and very them.

Song: “Everywhere, Everything” by Noah Kahan — the exact emotional temperature of this fic.

Enjoy ❤️🥺😍

Flashback 

Bayley was finishing up her cooldown stretches in the NXT gym when she heard the door open behind her. She didn’t look up at first — new people came through all the time — but the room got quiet in a way that made her glance over her shoulder.

A man stood in the doorway, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, eyes scanning the room like he was taking in every detail. Dark hair, sharp jawline, calm posture — but there was something gentle in the way he held himself.

She recognized him immediately.

Everyone did.

“You’re Finn, right?” Bayley asked, pushing herself up to her feet.

He smiled — small, polite, but warm. “Yeah. Just got in today.”

Bayley wiped her hands on her shorts and walked over, offering hers. “I’m Bayley.”

Finn shook her hand, firm but friendly. “I know. I’ve seen your matches.”

Bayley blinked, surprised. “You have?”

“You’re one of the reasons people talk about this place the way they do,” Finn said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bayley felt her cheeks warm. “Well… welcome to NXT. It’s crazy, but it’s good crazy.”

Finn set his bag down, glancing around the gym again. “Feels different. In a good way.”

Bayley nodded. “It is. Everyone here works hard. Everyone cares. And we look out for each other.”

Finn looked at her — really looked — and Bayley saw the exhaustion behind his eyes. The travel. The pressure. The expectations.

“That’s good to hear,” he said softly.

Bayley smiled, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Come on. I’ll show you around. You don’t have to figure this place out alone.”

Finn let out a small breath — relief, maybe — and picked up his bag.

“Lead the way.”

And just like that, something settled between them.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just easy.

The kind of connection that feels like it’s been there forever, even though they’d only just met.

Bayley spent the afternoon walking Finn through every corner of the Performance Center — the rings, the promo room, the trainers’ office, even the tiny hallway where everyone taped up before shows. Finn followed her with that quiet, attentive energy she already liked.

“You’ll get used to the chaos,” Bayley said, pushing open the door to the main ring. “It’s loud, but it’s a good loud.”

Finn smiled. “I like it already.”

Before she could say anything else, Shawn Michaels stepped out from the office, headset around his neck.

“Bayley,” he called, “you’re up tonight. Sasha. Ten minutes. Go get ready.”

Bayley nodded, then turned to Finn. “I’ll see you after?”

“Yeah,” Finn said softly. “Good luck.”

Bayley jogged off, leaving Finn alone with Shawn.

Shawn looked him over, arms crossed. “You ready for tonight?”

Finn straightened. “Yes.”

“Good,” Shawn said. “You’re working Johnny Gargano. He’s fast, he’s sharp, and he’ll push you. Don’t let him outpace you.”

Finn nodded, steady. “Understood.”

Shawn clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to NXT, kid.”

Later that night, Finn stood backstage watching Bayley’s match with Sasha on the monitor. He didn’t expect to be so invested, but Bayley’s energy was magnetic — the crowd loved her, Sasha pushed her hard, and Bayley fought like she had something to prove.

When she hit the finish, Finn actually smiled.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” someone said behind him.

Finn didn’t look away from the screen. “She’s brilliant.”

Bayley came through the curtain a minute later, flushed and breathless, and Finn was still standing there.

“You watched?” she asked, surprised.

“Of course,” Finn said. “You were incredible.”

Bayley’s cheeks warmed. “Thanks. You’re up next.”

Finn nodded, nerves settling into something calmer. “Will you watch?”

Bayley grinned. “Obviously.”

And she did — arms crossed, leaning against the wall, eyes glued to the monitor as Finn stepped into an NXT ring for the first time. Johnny was fast, just like Shawn warned, but Finn kept up. He hit his strikes clean, moved like he’d been there for years, and when he pinned Johnny, Bayley let out a quiet, proud laugh.

Finn walked through the curtain afterward, chest rising and falling, adrenaline still buzzing — and Bayley was right there waiting.

“You killed it,” she said.

Finn smiled, small but real. “Thanks for watching.”

Bayley bumped her shoulder against his. “Told you. We look out for each other here.”

And that was the moment — the exact second — Finn realized he wasn’t just joining a roster.

He was finding his people.

And Bayley was the first one.

After their first night wrestling, something just… clicked.

Bayley started showing up early to the Performance Center, and Finn somehow always ended up there too — stretching on the mats, taping his wrists, warming up in the ring.

They fell into a rhythm without ever talking about it.

One morning, Bayley was practicing chain wrestling with Sara, and Finn hopped into the ring after, offering to run it again with her.

“You move fast,” Bayley said, breathless.

Finn smiled. “You keep up.”

Another afternoon, Finn was working on his strikes, and Bayley stood outside the ropes, giving him feedback.

“Your kicks look great,” she said. “But your elbow? You’re holding back.”

Finn raised a brow. “Show me.”

Bayley climbed in and demonstrated, and Finn watched her like he was studying film.

On Thursdays, they always ended up doing cardio together — Bayley on the treadmill, Finn on the one beside her.

“I hate running,” Bayley groaned.

“Same,” Finn said. “But you make it less miserable.”

Bayley laughed, pushing her hair out of her face.

Some days, they practiced promos in the empty room, sitting cross‑legged on the floor, tossing ideas back and forth.

“You’re good at this,” Bayley said.

Finn shook his head. “You’re better.”

“We can be good together,” she said.

Finn looked at her — really looked — and nodded.

And on Fridays, when training was over and everyone was exhausted, Bayley always tossed Finn a water bottle and said, “See you tomorrow?”

And Finn always answered, “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t loud.

It was just two people finding comfort in each other during the hardest, most chaotic part of their careers.

And before either of them realized it, training together wasn’t a habit —

it was home.

They didn’t know it then, but those early days in NXT were the start of something they’d carry with them for years — through call‑ups, title runs, injuries, chaos, and every version of themselves they’d become. 

Present day 

Monday Night Raw — June 22nd, 2026 — London, England  

Orlando, Florida — Finn’s House

The match between Bayley and Lyra and Paige and Brie was underway and it was a brutal back‑and‑forth match but the end was near.

Finn had RAW on his TV, sitting on the edge of his couch, one arm draped over the backrest. He wasn’t planning to watch the whole show — just the Bayley match. He always watched her matches.

“Come on, Bayley… come on, Lyra…” he muttered under his breath.

Paige rolls Lyra up and then Lyra rolls Paige up — both kick out.

Finn leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Good counters… stay focused,” he whispered, like they could hear him.

Lyra kicks Paige and then puts her in position for the fisherman’s buster — she hits it, but she doesn’t get the cover, and Paige turns it into the Rampage and they retain the tag titles.

Finn winced.

“Ah, that’s rough… they had it.”

Michael Cole says:

“You can’t help but feel bad for Lyra and Bayley tonight. They put a lot of pressure on themselves though.”

Lyra was laying down in the ring crying and upset. Bayley kneeled beside her and said:

“You okay? You good? We’ll get another chance… it was not tonight but listen, we’re the best.”

Finn’s chest tightened a little.

Bayley comforting someone else — even after losing — was so her.

Michael Cole says:

“Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, go back to work.”

Then the unthinkable — Lyra threw Bayley into the ropes and started beating her down.

Finn shot upright.

“What the— Lyra, no!”

Cole screams:

“Wait a minute! Oh my goodness, Lyra about decapitated Bayley… frustration boiling over for Lyra Valkyria… the losing finally got to her and she’s assaulting a woman who’s been a mentor to her!”

Finn’s jaw clenched, eyes glued to the screen.

“Bayley, get up… get up…”

Corey says:

“Lyra Valkyria has had enough.”

Lyra throws Bayley into another rope and her throat hits it again.

Finn flinched hard — hand instinctively going to his own throat.

“Jesus Christ…”

The refs grab Lyra and get her away from Bayley.

Bayley is helped up by a trainer.

Michael Cole says:

“Just a reckless assault from a woman who detonated tonight… a relationship ruptured… I mean, I get it, right? Frustrated after losing each and every opportunity you’ve had, but at some point—”

Corey says:

“But Cole, Bayley didn’t get pinned. Lyra did.”

Lyra grabs Bayley and hits her Knightwing finisher on her.

Finn’s breath caught.

“No— Bayley!”

Cole says:

“And to your point, Corey, maybe Lyra should take a look in the mirror.”

The show goes to commercial with Bayley laying in the ring looking devastated and tired.

Finn sat frozen, staring at the screen long after it cut to black.

His heart was pounding.

His stomach was tight.

His hands were shaking just a little.

“Bayley… what the hell just happened…”

He reached for his phone — not to text yet, just holding it — because he knew he would.

He always checked on her.

Especially after something like this.

Bayley stumbled through the curtain with the trainer’s arm around her, throat burning, chest tight, eyes unfocused. The noise of the O2 Arena was still echoing in her ears — the gasps, the boos, the shock.

She sat down on a crate backstage, elbows on her knees, breathing hard. Someone handed her water. Someone asked if she needed medical. Someone tried to talk to her.

She didn’t hear any of it.

Her hands were shaking as she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.

One name was already on her screen.

Finn.

She didn’t text.

She didn’t think.

She hit call.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Then—

“Bayley?” Finn’s voice came through immediately, worried, breathless, like he’d sprinted to answer even though he was sitting at home.

Bayley swallowed hard, her voice cracking. “Finn…”

He exhaled sharply, relief and concern mixing. “I saw it. I saw everything. Are you alright?”

Bayley pressed her hand to her throat, eyes stinging. “She— she just snapped. I don’t know what happened. I tried to help her, Finn, I—”

“Hey,” Finn said softly, steady, grounding. “Breathe. You don’t have to explain anything right now.”

Bayley’s breath hitched. “It hurt.”

Finn’s tone dropped, gentle but fierce. “I know it did. I could tell. She hit you hard.”

Bayley wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just… I didn’t think she’d do that to me.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Finn said. “You trusted her. You believed in her. That’s who you are.”

Bayley leaned back against the wall, letting his voice settle her shaking nerves. “I feel stupid.”

“Don’t,” Finn said instantly. “Don’t you dare feel stupid. You were trying to lift her up. That’s what you’ve always done.”

Bayley let out a small, broken laugh. “Yeah, well… look how that turned out.”

Finn sighed softly. “Bayley… you didn’t deserve that. Not any of it.”

She closed her eyes, breathing him in like oxygen. “I wish you were here.”

Finn’s voice softened even more. “I wish I was too.”

There was a long, quiet pause — the kind that only happens between people who’ve known each other forever.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Finn said finally. “And when you get home… I’ll be there. Whatever you need.”

Bayley nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Thank you.”

“Always,” Finn said. “Always, Bayley.”

Bayley sat cross‑legged on the hotel bed, the lights dimmed, a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream melting beside her. Her throat still hurt. Her chest still felt tight. The betrayal replayed in her head like a loop she couldn’t shut off.

She took a slow spoonful of ice cream — cold, sweet, familiar — hoping it would settle her nerves. It didn’t.

Her phone buzzed.

Incoming FaceTime: Finn

Bayley exhaled shakily and answered.

Finn’s face filled the screen — soft lighting, messy hair, worry written all over him.

“Hey,” he said gently.

Bayley swallowed. “Hi.”

Finn’s eyes scanned her face like he was checking for bruises. “You alright?”

Bayley shook her head, voice cracking. “Not really.”

Finn nodded slowly, like he expected that. “Okay. Then let’s just… talk. Yeah?”

Bayley curled deeper into the blankets. “Yeah.”

Finn shifted, settling back against his couch. “Do you remember that night in NXT… the one nobody else knows about?”

Bayley blinked. “Which one?”

Finn smiled softly. “The night the power went out.”

Bayley’s breath caught.

She remembered.

“We were supposed to run drills,” Finn said, voice warm, nostalgic. “But everything shut down. No lights. No ring. Just us sitting on the mats in the dark.”

Bayley felt her chest loosen just a little. “You told me you weren’t used to quiet.”

Finn nodded. “And you said you weren’t used to being still.”

Bayley smiled — small, tired, but real.

“We talked for hours,” Finn continued. “About wrestling. About life. About how scared we both were of messing up.”

Bayley’s eyes softened. “You told me I made NXT feel less overwhelming.”

Finn’s voice dropped, gentle. “You did.”

Bayley took another spoonful of ice cream, her hands steadier now. “What else do you remember?”

Finn leaned closer to the camera, eyes warm. “That morning you beat me to the gym. You were sitting on the ring apron eating a granola bar, and you looked up at me like I was interrupting your peace.”

Bayley laughed quietly. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“I know,” Finn said. “But you scooted over and made room for me anyway.”

Bayley’s throat tightened — but not from pain this time.

“Or that day you helped me with my promo,” Finn added. “You didn’t have to. You stayed late. You told me I didn’t need to be perfect — just honest.”

Bayley blinked hard. “You were always honest.”

Finn smiled softly. “Because you made it easy.”

Bayley’s eyes stung again, but the ache was different now — softer, safer.

“Finn…” she whispered.

“I’m here,” he said immediately. “I’m right here.”

Bayley wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I don’t know why she did it.”

Finn shook his head. “You don’t need to understand it tonight. You just need to breathe.”

Bayley inhaled slowly, exhaled shakily.

Finn watched her like she was the only person in the world. “Good. Just like that.”

Bayley looked at him through the screen — the man who’d been her first friend in NXT, her partner in MMC, her quiet anchor for years.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Finn’s voice softened even more. “Always.”

Bayley’s breathing slowed.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Her eyes fluttered.

Finn noticed immediately.

“You’re tired,” he murmured.

Bayley blinked heavily. “I don’t wanna hang up.”

Finn shook his head gently. “You don’t have to. I’ll stay.”

Bayley nodded, curling into the pillow, the phone propped beside her. “Okay…”

Within minutes, her breaths evened out — slow, soft, steady.

Finn watched her, the glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t even blink too long.

He just stayed.

And when he was sure she was asleep, he whispered one last memory — one she’d forgotten.

“There was a night in NXT,” he said softly, “when you told me you hoped we’d still be friends in ten years.”

He smiled — small, tender, meant only for her sleeping form.

“It’s been more than ten,” he whispered. “And I’m still here.”

Finn stayed awake the entire night, watching over her through the screen, making sure she didn’t wake up alone.

Morning light crept through the thin hotel curtains, soft and pale, brushing across Bayley’s face. She blinked slowly, her eyes heavy, her throat still sore but her chest… quieter.

She shifted under the blanket, the phone still propped beside her pillow.

The screen was glowing.

Finn was still there.

He was sitting on his couch, hoodie on, hair messy, eyes tired but awake — like he hadn’t moved all night.

Bayley’s voice was soft, raspy. “Finn…?”

His head lifted instantly. “Hey. Morning.”

Bayley rubbed her eyes. “Did you… stay?”

Finn nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I didn’t want you waking up alone.”

Bayley’s heart squeezed — gentle, warm, aching. “You didn’t sleep?”

“Wasn’t tired,” Finn lied, but the softness in his voice made it sound true.

Bayley looked at him through the screen, her hair messy, her face still puffy from crying, but she felt… safe.

“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

Finn shrugged lightly. “Maybe. But you needed someone.”

Bayley pulled the blanket tighter around herself, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Finn’s smile deepened — small, quiet, meant only for her. “Always.”

Bayley glanced at the melted mint chocolate chip on the nightstand and laughed softly. “I fell asleep on you.”

“You did,” Finn said. “You were out in like ten minutes.”

Bayley groaned. “Oh my God…”

“It was cute,” Finn added, teasing but gentle.

Bayley rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re too nice to me.”

Finn shook his head. “No. I’m exactly as nice as you deserve.”

Bayley’s breath caught — just a little — because he said it so simply, so sincerely, like it wasn’t even a question.

She looked at him again, really looked, and for the first time since the heel turn, she felt steady.

Finn leaned closer to the camera. “How’s your throat?”

Bayley touched it lightly. “Sore. But… I’m okay.”

Finn nodded. “Good. That’s all I wanted.”

And for a moment, neither of them spoke — just soft morning quiet, two people who’d known each other forever, connected across an ocean like it was nothing.

           Tuesday — Orlando International Airport

Bayley stepped off the plane with her hoodie pulled tight around her, sunglasses hiding the exhaustion in her eyes. Her throat still hurt. Her chest still felt heavy.

The flight had been quiet — too quiet.

She kept replaying Lyra’s heel turn, Finn’s voice on FaceTime, the way he stayed awake all night just to make sure she didn’t wake up alone.

She walked through the terminal, dragging her suitcase behind her, weaving through crowds of travelers.

And then she saw him.

Finn.

Standing near the baggage claim, hands in his pockets, hoodie on, eyes scanning every face until they landed on hers.

His shoulders dropped in relief.

Bayley froze for half a second — because seeing him in person after everything felt like stepping into warmth after being out in the cold too long.

Finn walked toward her, slow but sure, like he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

Bayley’s voice cracked. “You’re here…”

Finn nodded, eyes soft. “Of course I’m here.”

Bayley swallowed hard, her suitcase forgotten. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Finn said, gentle but firm. “You shouldn’t come home alone after a night like that.”

Bayley’s breath hitched — because he said it like it was obvious, like it wasn’t even a question.

Finn stepped closer, lowering his voice. “How’s your throat?”

Bayley touched it lightly. “Sore.”

Finn nodded. “We’ll get you some tea.”

Bayley blinked, eyes stinging. “Finn…”

He shook his head softly. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Bayley exhaled shakily — and then she stepped forward and hugged him.

Finn wrapped his arms around her immediately, carefully, like she might break, but securely, like he’d been waiting for this moment since she left London.

Bayley pressed her forehead into his shoulder, breathing him in. “Thank you.”

Finn closed his eyes. “Always.”

They stood there for a long moment — two people who’d been through hell in different ways, finding comfort in the one person who’d always been steady.

When they finally pulled back, Finn took her suitcase handle.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you home.”

Bayley nodded, wiping her eyes.

And for the first time since RAW, she didn’t feel alone.

Finn unlocked the door to his house and pushed it open gently, letting Bayley step inside first. The lights were soft, the air cool, the space quiet in a way that felt safe instead of lonely.

Bayley dropped her bag by the couch and sank into the cushions, pulling her knees up, exhaustion settling into her bones.

Finn watched her for a moment — the way she curled in on herself, the way her shoulders slumped, the way her eyes looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

“I’ll make you tea,” he said softly.

Bayley nodded without looking up. “Okay.”

Finn moved around the kitchen quietly, boiling water, grabbing honey, choosing the mug he knew she liked when she visited — the one with the little cartoon bear on it.

When he brought it over, Bayley took it with both hands, letting the warmth settle into her palms.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Finn sat beside her, close but not crowding her. “You don’t have to talk about London if you don’t want to.”

Bayley stared into the tea, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just London.”

Finn’s brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

Bayley swallowed hard. “My contract’s up later this year.”

Finn froze.

Bayley kept her eyes on the tea. “And I… I don’t know if I want to renew.”

Finn’s breath caught — sharp, quiet, stunned.

“Bayley…”

She finally looked at him, eyes tired and honest. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. The travel. The pressure. The way everything feels lately. I just… I don’t know.”

Finn stared at her, shock flickering across his face before it softened into something deeper — concern, fear, protectiveness.

“You’ve never said that before,” he whispered.

Bayley’s voice cracked. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

Finn leaned forward, elbows on his knees, trying to process it. “You’re… you’re Bayley. You’re the heart of the locker room. You’re—”

“I’m tired,” she said, voice breaking. “I’m so tired, Finn.”

Finn’s expression shifted — the shock melting into something gentler, steadier.

He reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over hers.

“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” he said softly. “Or tomorrow. Or next week.”

Bayley blinked hard, tears gathering.

“But whatever you choose…” Finn continued, voice low and sincere, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Bayley looked at him — really looked — and the weight in her chest loosened just a little.

“I know,” she whispered.

Finn squeezed her hand gently. “And for the record… the thought of you leaving scares the hell out of me.”

Bayley let out a small, broken laugh. “Yeah?”

Finn nodded, eyes soft. “Yeah.”

They sat there in the quiet, her tea cooling between her hands, his thumb brushing her knuckles, both of them realizing this conversation meant more than either of them had admitted out loud before.

Wednesday morning  

Bayley woke up on Finn’s couch, wrapped in one of his blankets, the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen.

Finn looked over his shoulder and smiled softly. “Morning.”

Bayley stretched, wincing a little at her throat. “Morning…”

Finn handed her a mug. “Drink. Then we’re going out.”

Bayley blinked. “Out?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “You need sunlight. And fun. And something that doesn’t involve wrestling rings or betrayal.”

Bayley laughed — small, but real. “Okay.”

          They jog around the lake near Finn’s neighborhood, Bayley teasing him for being slow, Finn pretending to be offended.

They grab smoothies afterward, sitting on a bench in the shade, talking about nothing heavy — just stupid jokes, old memories, things that made them smile.

And for the first time since London, Bayley felt like she could breathe.

Thursday 

Finn showed up at her door holding two pickleball paddles.

Bayley stared. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Finn said. “Get your shoes.”

They played for hours — Bayley competitive and dramatic, Finn pretending he wasn’t trying but absolutely trying.

She laughed so hard she had to bend over at one point.

Finn laughed so hard he dropped his paddle.

It felt like NXT again — the lightness, the friendship, the closeness, the way they moved around each other like they’d been doing it for years.

And Bayley realized she hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.

 Friday 

Bayley knocked on Finn’s door Friday afternoon, expecting another day of pickleball or smoothies or quiet comfort.

“Come in!” Finn called from inside.

Bayley stepped in — and froze.

A photo album sat open on the coffee table.

Finn was sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at it like he’d been waiting for her.

Bayley walked over slowly. “What’s this?”

Finn swallowed, his voice soft. “Sit with me.”

She did.

Finn opened the album fully — and Bayley’s breath caught.

Photos from their entire career together.

NXT training days.

Mixed Match Challenge backstage selfies.

House show candids.

Random moments fans never saw — Finn’s arm around her shoulders, Bayley laughing at something he said, Finn looking at her like she was the only person in the room.

Finn touched the first photo — them sitting on the NXT mats during the blackout night.

“This was the first time I realized you made everything feel less scary,” he said quietly.

Bayley’s chest tightened.

He turned the page — a picture of them at a live event, sweaty and smiling.

“This was the night you told me I made you brave.”

Bayley blinked hard.

Another page — MMC warm‑up photos.

“This was when I realized I trusted you more than anyone I’d ever worked with.”

Bayley’s throat burned — not from Lyra’s attack, but from emotion.

Finn turned one more page — a candid of Bayley hugging him after a match, her face buried in his shoulder.

“This…” Finn whispered, voice cracking just slightly, “is when I realized I didn’t want to do this job without you.”

Bayley’s breath hitched. “Finn…”

He looked at her — really looked — eyes soft, vulnerable, honest.

“You said your contract’s up,” he murmured. “And you don’t know if you want to stay.”

Bayley nodded slowly.

Finn’s voice dropped, gentle but firm.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Bayley’s eyes stung.

“I want you to stay,” Finn continued. “Not for the company. Not for the fans. Not for the titles.”

He reached out, taking her hand.

“I want you to stay because… you mean more to me than you know.”

Bayley’s breath trembled. “Finn…”

He squeezed her hand gently.

“You’re the best part of my career,” he whispered. “And the best part of my life.”

Bayley’s eyes filled.

And for the first time, she didn’t look tired.

She looked seen.

She looked held.

She looked like she finally understood what she meant to him.

Bayley stared at the photo album, her fingers brushing the edge of a picture where Finn had his arm around her shoulders backstage at an NXT house show. Her eyes were already glassy, her breathing uneven.

“Finn…” she whispered, voice trembling. “Why did you show me all this?”

Finn swallowed, his thumb tracing the corner of a photo like he needed the grounding. “Because I needed you to know what you’ve been to me.”

Bayley blinked hard, a tear slipping down her cheek. “And what am I now?”

Finn’s head snapped up — shocked she even asked.

“Bayley…”

She looked at him, eyes wide, vulnerable, searching. “What do I mean to you now?”

Finn’s breath caught.

He closed the album gently, turning fully toward her.

“You mean everything,” he said softly.

Bayley’s lips parted, her breath shaky.

Finn continued, voice low and honest, no hesitation, no fear.

“You’re the person I trust most. The person I look for in every locker room. The person I want to talk to after every match. The person I stay awake for even when I’m exhausted.”

Bayley’s tears fell freely now.

Finn reached out, brushing one away with his thumb.

“You’re the person I worry about. The person I want to protect. The person who makes everything feel lighter just by being there.”

Bayley’s breath hitched. “Finn…”

He leaned closer, eyes soft, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not just part of my past. You’re not just NXT. You’re not just memories.”

His thumb rested gently against her cheek.

“You’re my present. And I want you in my future.”

Bayley’s heart squeezed so tight she thought it might break. “Finn… I didn’t know you felt—”

“I’ve felt it for a long time,” he said, voice trembling just slightly. “I just didn’t know if I was allowed to say it.”

Bayley leaned in, forehead touching his. “You can say anything to me.”

Finn exhaled shakily, eyes closing for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay. Not for WWE. Not for the fans. For me.”

Bayley’s breath caught — soft, stunned, warm.

She cupped his face with both hands, her thumbs brushing his jaw.

“Finn…” she whispered, voice breaking in the sweetest way. “I care about you so much.”

Finn opened his eyes — and the look he gave her was everything.

Soft.

Tender.

Certain.

Bayley leaned in first.

Finn met her halfway.

Their lips touched — gentle, slow, warm — the kind of kiss that wasn’t rushed or desperate, but full of years of trust, quiet moments, shared history, and everything they’d never said out loud until now.

Bayley’s hand slid to the back of his neck.

Finn’s fingers curled around her waist.

When they finally pulled back, foreheads still touching, Bayley whispered:

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Finn smiled — soft, relieved, in love.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m right here.”

The End

TAGLIST

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[teamchasezwrites]

I love this. ❤️ Bayley x Finn is one of my favorite ships. Wish there was a lot more. Love the sweetness of this.