Lifes been busy. Ive not forgotten to make prompts, irl shit has gotten crazy. Getting back into the swing of things. Got some prompts saved, but Im formatting it into more song prompts than scenario prompts.
I've gotten a few people asking if I will write these prompts.
Sadly, I will not be returning to writing fanfiction. Had a DEPLORABLE experience from people who I thought were friends on Tumblr years ago (pre-purge, if you know; you know). People who to my face said my writing was good, only to find out they were actually mocking me and my work behind my back. I then deleted that tumblr and never looked back. That horrible experience murdered any chance of myself returning to writing.
This is a masterlist of all my WWE fan fictions and one shots.
Mainly for my favorite WWE Superstars and AEW Jon Moxley.
Masterlist Posted Date: February 14, 2026
Latest Update: Feb 28, 2026 unjaded 03
Tips/Donations | LinkTree
The stories exist solely within its own universe, separate from reality.
The following stories are a work of fiction and takes place in an alternate universe. The characters, events, relationships, and timelines portrayed within these pages are entirely fictional and created for storytelling purposes only.
Any similarities to real people, real-life events, or actual experiences are purely coincidental. Details that may resemble situations from real life are not reflections, retellings, or representations of the same events, nor do they carry any affiliation, confirmation, or connection to any real individuals or names mentioned.
The stories exist solely within its own universe, separate from reality.
fluff 💞 ~ tooth-aching sweetness and happy endings, comedy
angst 🌧 ~ heart-wrenching sadness, emotional, hurt, pain, may contain crying and drama
romance 💋 ~ includes light to heavy flirting, tension, kissing, make-out
unfortunately, this writer does not know how to write smut :)
SONG FICs
Dean Ambrose / Jon Moxley
story here (soon…)
CM Punk
story here (soon…)
Cody Rhodes
story here (soon…)
Drew McIntyre
story here (soon…)
Roman Reigns
Seth Rollins
More to be added…
ONE SHOTS and PROMPTS Masterlist
story here
SERIES
unjaded (dean ambrose/mox x ofc)
a story told in the eyes of jade levesque-deveraux (now deveraux-good), triple h’s niece, on how she became the youngest wwe female superstar to the youngest women’s champion to marrying dean ambrose and leaving the squared circle and living the life away from the brightest lights of wwe.
This story exists solely within its own universe, separate from reality.
jon moxley x fem reader | rated e | drabble - commission
summary: a doe and a wolf circled each other, trapped in the tangle of a bond that would never break. it wasn't wasn't love, but rather something more immutable: nature. aka mox and his girl and a tether that won't loosen.
warnings: primal play, mild blood play, semi-public shennanigans, out in the woods shennanigans, perhaps a little teeny tiny whiff of cnc if you squint, unprotected p in v
author's note: a commission for @cryptidbunnyx - i hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for your trust in me to deliver a good story! i've never attempted primal play before, and i had fun trying something new!
“It’s gonna be dark soon,” Mox murmured, forearm draped over your right shoulder absently. “All the sounds out here change at night, like a switch got flipped. It’s incredible.”
The density of the trees made the last rays of sunlight struggle to reach you where you sat in Mox’s lap, your back against his chest, and the bed of fallen leaves, loosened twigs, and soft soil beneath you was muted by the buffer of a thick blanket. It was as if a space had been carved for the two of you, scooped out of the earth and left in solace.
“Change how?” you asked.
“It’s like rotating the guard, right? Everything that scrambles for cover during the day is ready and eager to be free at night.”
Reaching for your bag just off to the side with his free hand, Mox searched blindly for a moment before pulling out the thin, cylindrical bottle of roll-on perfume. Your breath caught in your chest on an inhale, and his arm shifted to cross over your chest with his forearm anchored in the valley between your breasts and his fingers brushing at the sides of your lower ribs.
“Shhh, I’ve got you.” He turned your head to the side with two fingers on your chin to reveal the naked expanse of your neck down to the collar of your sweater. The gentle pressure of the roller made you recoil in surprise. “Sit still.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” you asked, settling deeper into him for both comfort and surrender in kind. “Or are there actually dangerous things out here?”
“There’s bears, wolves, coyotes, stuff like that.” Mox moved on from your neck to swipe along the skin behind your ears and then down your arms to the inside of your wrists. “To them, we’re the ones trespassing out here. You just gotta hope they don’t mind it too much.”
Once he was satisfied, he leaned in close to your throat and inhaled slowly. The low, pleased growl he made evoked a shiver from you, and to your embarrassment, he knew it. “And now, they’ll all know there’s something here that doesn’t belong. Better be careful, little one, or they might snap you up for themselves.”
Your eyes settled on the gyrating flames of the campfire, watching how the wind moved them to evolve their rhythms. Symbiosis, coexistence through the most delicate balance. All it took was one little push too far, and there was no more peace between opposites.
With a parting kiss to your temple that lingered just enough that you were off-kilter when he stood up from behind you, Mox stretched luxuriously. The hem of his hoodie rode up with his arms raised to expose the trail of hair from his navel down beneath the waistband of his jeans. His jaw worked lazily on the gum in his mouth, emphasizing the strong muscle and bone. A distraction that almost worked to make you forget to question him.
“Where are you going?” Your voice shook a little, a warm flush spreading up your neck into your cheeks at feeling so exposed.
In the fading light, his teeth were bright when he pulled his lips back in a smile. “Gotta take a piss. Don’t worry, I won’t be far.”
The heavy sound of his boots eventually faded enough that you could no longer keep track of him from where you sat. Rather than worry, however, you decided to clean up the remnants of your dinner and start a kettle warming for some coffee.
Just as you set out two mugs, however, you heard something behind you. Something heavy, snapping twigs and rustling leaves underfoot.
With your heart racing in your chest, you shot to your feet on instinct. Moving to the opposite side of the campfire, you looked closely at where you had just been sitting. There was nothing you could see, but that feeling of unease pervaded. The sharp prickle on the back of your neck wouldn’t let you relax, and your palms felt cold.
There was nothing disrupting the trees or earth beneath them other than the evening breeze that curled around your feet and swept over the greenery. It had picked up a little in strength, though, wafting the scent of your perfume around you like a taunt.
“Mox? Is that you?”
There was no reply, nor accompanying sound, but somehow you just knew that something was lingering, waiting.
“Mox?”
Maybe it was just your imagination tainted with apprehension, but you could have sworn a soft, low chuckle echoed around you. You took a step back, and then another, and the heavy steps seemed to mirror you.
Until suddenly, they came louder, quicker.
You didn’t give yourself any time to overthink or freeze in fear; instead, you turned tail and ran in the direction you had last seen Mox.
The sharp ends of broken branches and stout thorns caught on your leggings and sweater sleeves, pulling at you like monstrous nails. The leaves under your feet made the ground almost slippery, and you had to shift your weight to keep your balance.
You didn’t know these woods very well. Mox was the expert, knowing the paths and trails like the back of his hand after years of coming here to get a little lost for some peace of mind. Now you wished you had asked more questions.
Rounding the trunk of a thick maple tree, you crouched down for a moment to catch your breath and take stock of your surroundings.
You couldn’t hear much over the pounding of your pulse in your ears, but you didn’t feel that same sense of urgency you had back at your camp. There wasn’t much to see, either, as the dusk faded quickly. Mox was nowhere to be seen, nor could you make any guesses as to whether he had been here at all with any certainty.
Suddenly, a sharp crack sounded to your left, and you were back on your feet and running in the opposite direction.
Without a plan and unsure where to look for safety, you just pressed on. Deeper in the woods, where the trees grew closer together and the sounds of insects and birds and wildlife closed in a little tighter, you felt even more lost. Every direction was starting to look the same in the fading light, and shadows seemed to warp with the growing darkness that fed them.
Intentions were indistinguishable from sounds. There could be any number of things out of sight watching you and no way to know if they were just as vulnerable to the dark as you.
Each step you took felt like the shrill blaring of a klaxon exposing your presence as artificial by comparison. Even quiet and discreet, you were the anomaly; the artificially fragrant smell of vanilla and cardamom was starting to overpower that of oak and sap as your mere presence stained the evening breeze.
A sudden deep growl behind your left shoulder was all the warning you got before something strong gripped your upper arm tightly. “I could smell you, little one. Just like I warned you would happen. And if I can smell you, what else do you think can too?”
Your breath caught in your chest, but you didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes forward.
His open palm pressed to the base of your throat and his fingers curled around you like possessive ivy. “It’s a good thing I’m the one who found you. At least I’ve already got a sweet tooth for you; something else might not know what to do with a trapped little thing at their mercy.”
Mox pulled you against his body and lifted you just high enough off the ground that the heels of your boots rested on the toes of his. The tree closest to you had a trunk softened by moss and smooth bark, and he steered you into it carefully.
Palms to wood and nails digging into the earthy moss made you feel like a whole other kind of being. Prey; soft and gentle, with instincts to run and hide, or yield. The furnace-like heat of Mox’s body up against you was its companion—a predator seeking something to sink its teeth into and mold a new shape beneath its body.
His eager hands roamed beneath your sweater to pull your leggings down to your knees, finding you slick with arousal and damp with sweat. One finger trailed up your warm entrance, following the seam without parting your lips just yet. When the flat of his nail grazed your clit at the top, you jerked at the intensity of the sensation.
Mox rested his chin in the curve of your neck, nosing at the spot under your ear where the smell of your perfume was strongest. “I could eat you up, doe eyes. Keep you all to myself.” His breath was hot and damp, and you couldn’t help but roll your hips back into his touch hungrily.
“I just want to be yours,” you replied, your voice breaking a little when you felt the smooth warmth of his cockhead pressing at your entrance.
“You always have been.”
The force of his first deep thrust pushed you roughly against the mossy bark, and you turned your cheek against it as you braced yourself. Fully sheathed inside you, Mox was an unyielding pressure in your core. His strokes were shallow so that he never ventured too far from you, and the friction was dampened just enough not to hurt but still ached in all the right ways.
One of his wide, rough palms pressed low on your spine, deepened the arch of your back. “Spread your legs for me.” Despite their faint trembling, you complied, and he wrapped his free arm around your middle to help you stay upright. “Shit, I could stay inside you all damn day.”
Suddenly, a snapping sound echoed off the trees, followed by a gentle rustling.
It sounded like it was just off to the side in the brush, in the direction your face was turned. Your eyes went wide in concern and self-consciousness, your cheeks getting hot in mere seconds, but there was nothing there to see.
Mox hadn’t slowed his pace, but he was looking there too. “Guess I wasn’t the only thing that followed you here,” he mused roughly. “They all want a chance to sink their teeth into you now that they’ve found you.”
A sharp gasp was punched from your chest as he angled just right for the next thrust. “Mm—are…are we safe here?”
His laugh was tinged with condescension. “Nothin’ is getting me, baby. But you… It’s a good thing I claimed you first. All soft and tender and exposed out here, you’d be easy prey.” Loosening his arm from around your hips, he pressed his knuckles to your chin to encourage you to look where the noise had come from. “If there’s somethin’ out there that wants you, it’s gonna see you right here with me.”
Something twisted deep in your gut at his words; something dark and yearning, reaching towards the outstretched hand of obscenity. A prickle on the back of your neck made you feel like something pinned down and helpless, yet unafraid.
Caught in a snare, made to surrender to the beast with its mouth open to devour, by your natures.
The quietest whimper escaped your lips.
You felt spread open without anywhere to escape, with pleasure mounting quicker than you could process it. The insides of your thighs were sticky and slick, and you felt like you might come apart at the seams. Your orgasm was a shock to you, though, when it broke like the tide over you.
Mox made a low rumbling sound of approval but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. His purpose was in you, to his own end.
As such, he pulled away so abruptly that your body was left in a state of fractured descent, but only so that he could turn you around to face him. With his hands under your thighs, he hoisted you up easily and guided your legs around his waist. You had little energy left as the adrenaline burned away, but all he was asking of you was trust, and that you could do.
Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Instead, you just looked at him.
His eyebrows were drawn with intensity, and his eyes a steely kind of blue. This was a part of him you didn’t often see and touched even less so. It was raw and fueled by instincts and reflexes, the simple skeleton of his barest self. Maybe he thought it would scare you to face it too much, or maybe he felt traces of shame in its existence at all—neither of which you felt were justified.
Mox abruptly pitched forward, his head on your chest where his ragged breaths were hot on your skin. “Mine,” he rumbled, and it became a repeated prayer as he rutted desperately against you.
His large frame and sturdy build made for a welcome cage. It was safe and warm, with nothing left to want. You could choose to run or hide, but Mox was at the end of every path as a promise. The tighter he held you, all you felt was free.
But then, a sharp sensation—teeth breaking skin, just above your heart. Little pearls of crimson welled up under the bite. A claim, like a lock and key.
With his mouth occupied, his groan of pleasure and release was effectively muffled as he came. The taste of your blood on his tongue was what did it, and that touched an exposed and tender part of yourself that you didn’t quite know yet.
“Your heart’s beating wild,” Mox finally spoke.
“Yeah, it does that sometimes,” you managed to say as you tried to regulate your breathing again. “Usually because of you.”
“You’re bad for a guy’s ego, you know that?” He carefully loosened his grip so he could get you to your feet but kept a steady hand at your back beneath the hem of your sweater that pressed the two of you chest to chest. “Just breathe for me, baby.”
You did as he instructed, tucking your head under his chin. “Does it ever scare you? How easy it is to be like that.”
You felt rather than saw his shrug. “Not really. It’s just with you, and it feels like being me. Only, a little… less controlled.”
“That’s really saying something,” you teased, tucking your hands into his hoodie pocket for some extra warmth.
Mox snorted and wrapped his arms around you in a warm, snug embrace. “One good fuck, and it makes you feel invincible, hmm?” A playful growl rumbled in his chest and he squeezed you tight for just a moment. “That’s my girl.”
LA can dish it on the microphone, but when an up and comer from NXT makes her main roster debut. The two have a war of words that leaves LA stunned, but damn if you didn't make an impression on the megastar after that segment.
Being a distraction to LA while you're both in the gym.
A nice, peaceful evening dinner date with LA.
WWE is doing a calendar with all proceeds going to charity. Female superstars have ring gear modeled after random male superstars; yours happens to be modeled after LA Knights. While he's not in the calander shoot, word travels his crush (you) is in his attire.
Getting a noise complaint from your asshole neighbor in the next apartment over about LA's bolstering voice. Scared you're gonna get in trouble since this neighbor has had it out for you since you moved in a year ago. LA, being the good boyfriend he is, sees how distressed it makes you and decides to 'talk to them'.
Getting annoyed by LA, leaving stains of tanning spray on the hotel sheets - every time you travel.
LA princess carrying you from the ring to medical after you bust your head open during a match.
'Borrowing' LA's vest.
Having LA meet your family for the first time during the holidays.
Being assistant GM on Smackdown and actually having the balls to fine/suspend The Vision for sending LA Knight to the hospital. You then visit Knight at said hospital.
User note: I treat the Dean Ambrose and the Jon Moxley wrestling characters as their own separate entities. Hence why they're in different posts.
You're sitting in catering about to eat a box of medium fries when Dean comes in and steals them.
'Busting' Dean out of 'jail' for a backstage segment. Both of you 'borrow' a police cruiser to return to the arena.
Being on the set of 12 Rounds: Lockdown as Dean's character, John Shaw's, love interest.
The Miz is trying to get under Dean's skin by confronting you backstage, but before Dean can make the save. You knockout The Miz with a punch to his jaw. Sure, your hand hurts, but damn if Dean isn't proud as shit of you.
Trying to prank Dean on Swerved (ya'll remember when WWE tried to have a prank show involving their talent? Back in the mid 2000s?) And jumpscaring his ass with a train horn.
The night Dean Ambrose won the Universal Championship and left with you to celebrate in your guys' hotel room.
Dean comforts you backstage after having a panic attack over witnessing his cinderblock spot before being taken off TV to going to shoot a movie.
You stop mid-converstation with Paige near the gear crates as from the corner of your eye spottin Dean wearing that ridiculous foam cowboy hat he won in the casino, Intercontinental title belt resting on his left shoulder backstage. Feeling mischievous, you tell Paige you'll talk to her later as you full sprint down the hallway and steal it, as the echos of your giggling can be heard off camera. While Dean is a bit stunned but just smirks and shakes his head before heading into the GMs office.
The following prompts and ideas below are based on episodes of Total Divas:
Your family is meeting your boyfriend, Dean, for the first time at a local restaurant for lunch. While enjoying your meal, some thief swipes your purse off the ground and takes off. Dean, not having any of that shit chases the thief in hot pursuit and manages to catch him. After the police handle the situation, Dean returns with your purse a little sweaty but unharmed. Your mom leans over to you and whispers in your ear, "He's a keeper."
You and Dean have a housewarming bbq at your new house with friends.
Enjoying a day at the beach with Dean on a day off.
Okay, the Total Diva section ends here. Let's move on to Shield Era Dean, shall we?
[Shield Era Dean] Your tag team partner for your mix tag match is nowhere to be found. Internally? You're freaking the fuck out. As you search for anyone backstage, you come across the three most dangerous guys: The Shield, hanging around stage crates, and shooting the shit with each other. Desperate times call for desperate measures - you walk towards the trio and hope that if you explain your situation, one of them would be willing to team with you. Fingers crossed.
[Shield Era Dean] You did the impossible. You managed to dethrone AJ Lee for the Divas Championship. High from the adrenaline and excitement of winning, as you make your way towards the womens locker room. You run into someone... The US Champion, Dean Ambrose, face first into his vested chest.
[Shield Era Dean] (This one is just an excuse to give Dean a hot goth gf 😋). You're an alternative model who is visiting your bestie, Paige, at RAW for her debut to the main roster. (Always pictured tattoo artist Ashley Ryan from Ink Master fame in this, personally). While hanging out, you see The Shield and are immediately attracted to he scrappy blue-eyed brawler with the slicked back hair at the far end of the room.
[Post Shield Dean] You comfort Dean after Seth's betrayal.
Dean is going to be heading back on the road soon. Thinking you'd leave him something to remind him of you while traveling. You 'borrow' Deans leather jacket for a week. Wearing to sleep and to run errands, making it smell like you. Before packing in his suitcase. When he arrives at his hotel room for the night, he's surpised by his 'missing' jacket and a note attached to it. Dean smiles softly, the jacket that once smelled of his aftershave and musk now smells of you.
[Shield Era Roman] It's an episode of WWE Ride Along, and you join your boyfriend and/or husband along for a 45-minute drive after RAW wraps up from the venue to the hotel.
[Post Shield Roman] Being his support system when he starts feeling down about all the hatered fans give him.
[Post Shield Roman] During your time as a member of the Shield, you've hidden your feelings towards him, even from your former faction members. The Authority tried to use this against you, but after Roman and Dean beat Seth and Kane in a tag match. You decided to let your feelings for the Samoan known in front of everyone.
You're Sami Zayn's sister. Your relationship has been a bit strained since he allied himself with the Bloodline. Still, you worry about him making choices that would put him at odds with the Bloodline. So, you decided to have a meeting with the Head of the Table without your brother's knowledge.
Joining Roman on the red carpet for the premiere of Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw.
Showing off your new ring gear to Roman as a newly joined member of the Bloodline.
Doing the morning press junket together to promote RAW, Smackdown, and/or PPV show in whatever city it's in.
Enjoying a well-deserved vacation after the chaos of week of Wrestlemania, Wrestlmania itself, and following week post Mania.
Celebrating Roman's first World Championship win.
Roman proposes to you in front of everyone while you are all in gorilla position after he retains the title Wrestlemania 39.
Having a brunch date with him.
Him getting distracted by you in your gym fit while you both work out.
This is my 2nd attempt at posting this. Fucking tumblr marked the original post as 'mature'. Guess shirtless Rollins gif was too damn much *eye rolls*
Trying to talk Seth out of wearing those ridiculous Mickey Mouse looking red boots on RAW. Bonus if you also include the yellow croc looking ass ones.
Being Seth's go-to designer for all of his insane ring attire and wardrobe.
Going to a Chicago Bears game with Seth.
[Shield Era Seth] Being Team Hell No's valet/manager and having a secret crush on Seth.
[Sellout Era Seth] Being the niece of HHH & Stephanie McMahon, who is offered to be the new GM for Monday Night Raw. While settling into your new office, Seth barges through the door pissed expecting Kane but is taken aback by your presence.
[Sellout Era Seth] Being at WM 31 when Seth pulls the 'heist of a century'.
[Sellout Era Seth] Being Corporate Kane's PA and having to deal with Seth, who you are secretly dating.
Doing the Hot Ones Verses with Seth.
Doing GQ Sports 10 Things You Can't Live Without with Seth.
Being backstage at Summerslam 2025 when Seth pulls off the MITB cash in successfully the second time around.
Being Paul Haymen's daughter and falling in love with Seth or in a secret relationship with him.
You and Seth team together in a tag match.
Comforting Seth after being betrayed by Heyman and The Vision.
You see Allister Black and his wife, Zelina Vega, attack your man from one of the monitors in the gorilla position. You're absolutely NOT having any of that mess, so you rush down the ramp and start laying it in on Zelina while Damien recovers enough to get the upper hand. You both send the pair packing.
Taking care of Damien after the fireball to the face backstage.
[Judgment Day Era Priest] Celebrating his MITB win or his successful cash in at WM XL.
[Judgment Day Era Priest] You're Rhea Ripley's best friend, and she decides to play matchmaker between you and her Terror Twin.
[Judgment Day Era Priest] You're Edge's (sister or daughter or cousin; choice is yours), and you just turned on him to become the new leader of Judgment Day; while you, Rhea, and Damien all walk backwards across the entrance ramp. You decided to add insult to injury towards your dad by pulling Damien in for a passionate kiss in front of everyone.
Joining Damien on Cody Rhode's 'What Do You Wanna Talk About?' show.
Consoling Damien after he was ruthlessly kicked out of the Judgment Day.
plot: after being betrayed by what you thought was your family, Jon moxley offers you some advice
warnings: 18+ I started writing this when he was champion…dirty and naughty, technically smut if part 2 def smut, weapons, mentions of blood, wrestling in aew duh
You were furious.
Your faction…well old faction now had just kicked you aside, left you to get pinned and told you that you simply weren’t good enough for them.
Emotions high, your hair disheveled from the match, mascara running down your eyes, tights ripped your feet were moving quicker than your mind as you went down the hallway.
Sniffing, your eyes wet and blurry you didn’t even see the tall figure in your way until you collided with it.
His body didn’t even flinch, taking the pain as you cursed down to your phone that fell and most likely cracked.
Another thing that pissed you off today.
You breathed out from your nostrils in quick breaths until they stopped, your eyes connecting with the hauntingly blue irises of Jon Moxley.
The Champion, the bloody mess and the leader of the death riders who was now looking you up and down
the same you that looked a mess.
After a stare down with no room left in between you he bent down, not breaking eyecontact even when he was on his knees.
He rose up, passing you your phone that now felt like an afterthought.
You went to grab it but he pulled it away.
He breathed out before finally speaking.
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you who you are and what you’re worth”
The words were supportive but the tone sounded like a warning.
Passing you back your phone he shoved it into your chest where the crevice of your cleavage ended.
He left his hand there until you finally reached up and grasped the phone, both of your hands grasing eachother as he let go.
Your facial features hadn’t changed at all since you bumped into him although they were screaming to.
You couldn’t let him know of the effect that the champion had on you.
But the champion had an effect on everyone and he knew it.
Smirking he chuckled and walked away.
You didn’t see him in the hallways for the rest of the night.
But his words repeated in your head.
“Don’t let anyone tell you who you are and what your worth”
Though the death riders locker room, reeked of danger and could hold any possible weapon used in a death match your heart quickened in anticipation as you finally walked up to it.
Opening the door, all of the members turned their stoic heads
Marina nodded her head to the others, each of them walking out beside you with no words but your eyes were stuck on blue as the champions were stuck on yours.
When the door clicked to close you stepped behind to lock it but when you returned to face the man he was already right in front of you.
“I thought I warned you-“
“What am I worth?” you asked him, cutting him off
He raised his brow “I thought I said-“
“You don’t think of yourself as just anyone though” you taunted “so what does a champion like you think of my worth” you sounded out for him, his smirk growing
“So you did hear my warning”
“Loud and clear”
His hand, rough and callous quickly rose to your throat but you stood still, showing no sign of fear.
“You wanna be a death rider?” He asked and you smirked
“I wanna be a champion” you stated and stepped closer towards him, your chests touching as you both could feel each others heart beats which were both speeding.
“Are you scared?” He taunted
“Excited actually. What about you?”
“Ecstatic”
His movements next were quick. His hand lifted from your neck just to join his other hand, under the end of your wrestling bottoms and lifting you from the ground.
Placing you on the nearest table throwing his own body between your legs, the table which held chairs, kendo sticks and bats covered in barb wire he grabbed onto the hair tie in your hair, ripping it out and putting it on his own wrist.
You smirked “what you gonna tie up your hair” you bullied, taunting him on the lack of hair on his head before grabbing the tail of his beard “or you gonna tie this beard and have a man cave aesthetic going on”
You didn’t let him reply, instead pulled him in from the beard, letting him growl into you as you connected your lips.
It was messy, very messy but you didn’t expect anything else.
Blood drew from your bottom lip as he pulled away, biting it.
His hands moved from your waist, slowly making their way down to your ass, squeezing it hard before lifting you up.
You squeezed your legs around him, creating zero space in between his abs and your core.
“Now I heard” he started, lifting his hand to fix your now messy blowout you got before the show, holding you with one hand.
“What did you hear?” You hummed into his face, you now barely taller than him as he held you high.
He chuckled, the vibration of his body hitting straight to your core “I heard from pretty boy that after a round or two you get a little bit messy down there” he said
“Yeah?” You smirked, internally killing your ex boyfriend Maxwell.
“What else he say about me?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer
He tensed
“Nothing more than what I’m gonna tell him next week”
Your eyes hardened, your grip tightened almost scratching out blood at the back of his head.
“Tell the locker room and you’re dead”
He just smiled, intrigued by the challenge.
“Tell the locker room what, nothings happened” he shrugged, your body still on his.
“Yet” you added and dropped down from his grip.
Though you swore you could feel your wetness start to drool down your gears tights you were not doing this in a locker room where you knew his little ‘buddies’ were outside the door.
You grabbed a painted black kendo stick with thumb tacks glued all over it.
“Want your shiny weapon?” You asked, walking backwards towards the door as an obviously hard Jon Moxley watched you walk away with his arms crossed.
“Gonna have to come and fine me to get it”
“What room number are you?” He asked, wanting to know where abouts in the hotel she was staying.
“Find out yourself”
You opened the door to see the rest of the death riders just as you thought on the other side of the room.
“Where are you going with that?” Marina sat up from her seat but you ignored her, walking away.
“Let her go”
With the death riders behind you, you smirked
From a day where you started at the bottom, you know walked away in control of the champion.
SAY HIS NAME AND-- HE APPEARS! I BELIEVE IN JOE HENDRY!
You take a page out of your boyfriend, Joe Hendry, book and make a parody song to embarrass your opponent prior to a big ppv match coming up.
So this one starts like this: Thea Hail gets taken out backstage by Alba Fyre prior to her and Joe's mix tag match against Ethan Page & Chelsea Green. Since Thea is your best friend (plus you're pissed off at what happened). You go to Ava's office and ask to be Thea's replacement. She agrees. Out in the ring, Joe is standing near the entrance ramp and ring. Ethan and Chelsea can be heard mocking him in the middle of the ring. When a few seconds later, your entrance music hits. Your ring attire rocks the Scottish flag colors, matching Joe's. A smile graces Joe's face as you both rush to the ring and kick off this match. You can extend this from there.
Being backstage at Wrestlemania 41 and supporting your man, Joe Hendry, his is Mania debut.
Celebrating with Joe after he becomes the TNA World Champion for the first time.
[Circa 2016] Video: Joe Hendry Mocks Drew McIntyre You're valeting for your brother, Drew McIntyre, while his manager threatens poor audio/video engineer who's running the wrestlers entrance videos and music not to play whatever video Drew's opponent, Joe Hendry, has concocted. The video causes you to break character. Afterwards, backstage you give Joe shit for making you laugh but also how praise how funny that was.
hi!! can i request number 9 with jon moxley from the small details for fictional kisses prompt list? thank you, love!! i can’t wait to read it if you decide to do it!! <3
Yes, of course!! I’m always delighted to write Jon for you! I hope you like it. <3
Pairing: Jon Moxley x OFC.
Prompts: Unbuttoning your lover’s shirt, pressed against the wall.
Rating: M.
Warnings/Content: Smutty smut. A little rough but nothing super intense.
Word Count: 1,767.
(I don’t own gif; credit to audreyhrnes!)
Jon hated wearing suits but damn could he wear the hell out of them when someone finally managed to scam him into it. And she had. Sort of. Just for a night. She grinned to herself as she watched him tug on his tie, pace near the far wall of the room. The attempt to hide her smirk behind her champagne glass was caught by one Britt Baker and the good doctor sauntered over. She settled back against the drink table and grabbed one of her own.
“He is hating every minute of this, isn’t he?”
Britt gestured towards Jon with her glass.
“Oh, for sure,” she answered with a nod. She eyed Jon across the way and the look on his face when he saw that Eddie wasn’t also in a suit was priceless. As blue as his eyes were, she could see how wide they were clear across the room. “Eddie and I figured we might pull a rib on him, tell him that we would all be dressed nice. God, he fought against the tie like a dog with a collar.”
She had wrongly assumed that Jon wouldn’t mind the tie because of that correlation. She had seen all of his matches. But shit, they had almost been late because of that tie. He had threatened to tie her up with it and she should have known better than to dare him to do just that. Eventually, they had gotten their shit together enough to make it out the door and to the event. They could circle back to that later.
“He’s gonna hold this against you for forever, you know,” Britt said. “I’m going to go find Adam so good luck with Jon later. You’ll probably need it. Have fun!”
Britt shot a wink at her as they clinked their glasses together and downed their champagne. Just as she turned to set her empty glass, she could feel a presence behind her. A smile spread on her face.
“So, how pissed is Jon?”
“Truth be told his ass is a little chapped over it, doll.”
That was not Eddie Kingston’s voice. She tried to temper her face as she turned and looked up at him. Jon’s narrowed eyes greeted her.
“Hi, babe,” she said. “Are you having a good time?”
He shook his head, a smirk of disbelief on his face. He reached past her to grab a glass of champagne. He took a sip of it and scrunched his face. It wasn’t to his taste. Not like the bottle of Jack back in their room.
“Oh yeah, you’re gonna hi, babe me like you didn’t do anything wrong?” His low voice rolled through her ears. “You did me dirty, sweetheart. You and Eddie. He’s not getting out of this one and neither are you.”
She traced a finger down the line of open buttonholes at the front of his suit as she looked over him again. He insisted on wearing it unbuttoned, the sleeves pushed up. All broad and muscled, beard trimmed and that earring in. Hair a little messy like he’d just rolled out of bed or bar fight. Rugged and nothing at all like a gentleman.
“Oh, I get it,” he rumbled as he looked down at her, his dimples prominent when he began to grin at her. He made like he was going to kiss her cheek and lingered there. “Is it doing it for you, dressing me up all nice like this? I feel like it’s doing something for you.”
Her face flushed and she looked away for a beat. It was as much confirmation as anything. Jon’s tongue swept across his bottom lip and he nodded when he pulled away.
“Eddie and I thought it would be funny,” she finally said, confidently as she could. She fumbled for a glass and he did the honors of handing her one. She took a long sip of it before she spoke again. “We can go whenever if it’s really that ba--Oh we’re leaving now?”
Her words were all the incentive Jon needed to grab her hand and tug her towards the exit. She barely had time to set her glass down before they were through the double-doors. Thankfully, their room was in the same building the event was being hosted in. The time in the elevator went by quickly with Jon’s hand pulsating around hers, his barely contained energy swelling in the glass and metal box.
As soon as their door beeped them in, he was on her. He stooped down to pick her up against him and slanted his mouth over hers to claim. To bruise. Frustration spilled through and his tongue was harsh against her, his teeth sharp. She fisted his tie in her hand and tugged it hard when she pulled away from his mouth. He went to kiss her again and she pulled away.
“What, doll? What is it?”
His voice was a throaty rasp as his chest heaved. She kissed his cheek before she spoke.
“You said I did you dirty earlier, right?”
His intense eyes burned into her as he pressed her back against the wall. He nodded, then narrowed his eyes. What was she getting at? She made like she wanted to get down and he acquiesced. He grunted when she forced him back against the wall and she could see the way he strained against his suit pants, the way his thick thighs went tight. As much as dressing nice did it for her, he liked it when she got her hands on him and was anything but soft about it. Her hand loosened in his tie and she moved her hand down the front of his dress shirt, undoing the buttons as she went. She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him and he groaned into her mouth when she popped the last one, her hand splayed across the warm skin of his stomach.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She knelt down and kissed his stomach. His lips parted as he stared down at her, widened his stance. Her deft hands undid his belt and didn’t bother to pull it through the loops. His zipper went next and she slowly pulled his pants down over his ass, halfway down his thighs. Her fingers curled around the waistband of his boxer-briefs.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he said. His long fingers found a home in her hair. He hissed when she scratched her nails along his hip bones. His hips stuttered forward at the sensation and he tugged at her hair. “You’re gonna kill me. You are killing me.”
She smiled up at him as she palmed him through his briefs. He secured his bottom lip between his teeth once she bared him to the cold air of the hotel room. His abs contracted hard when she took the head of him into her mouth. Then the rest of him slid into the warmth of her mouth and he didn’t care about being quiet. A filthy moan thundered out of him when she took him as deep as she could and dug her nails into the muscle of his ass.
“Fuck, fuck,” he huffed out. “Do I need to wear nice shit more often, doll? Is that it? You like that? You like when I dress all nice for you?”
Her affirmative hum vibrated through him as she worked and his knees almost buckled. The hum turned into a moan and he swore. Such a large, intimidating bruiser of a man nearly brought to his knees just by her lips, her tongue? Fuck.
“Shit,” he heaved out. She felt him stiffen in her mouth and the muscles of his thighs go tight under her hands. The hand in her hair tugged hard and pressed her against him. His eyes fell shut and he leaned back into the wall to brace himself. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna--”
Jon’s words were choked by his guttural groan as he filled the back of her throat. He hissed and his hips stuttered until the grip he had on her hair finally lessened. The back of his hand lightly smacked against the wall as he let her go. She looked up at him, completely debauched and still half-dressed in the suit she picked out for him. Her lipstick clung to his skin. His head fell back against the wall, eyes shut, and he barely startled when she kissed his neck.
He found her mouth with his and she felt his hands trace down her arms, his grip soft. Then the heat of their kiss was turned up and she moaned into his mouth as his tongue pressed against hers. The bliss of his orgasm faded, burned away by the resurgence of heat that made his hands feel warm as brands on her skin.
She moaned his name and reached for him. Except she couldn’t. She opened her eyes. His tie was gone, her hands bound behind her. Jon’s lips stalled against hers and she felt him smile. He pulled away, his breath hot on her moist lips. Hooded eyes looked down at her.
“You dared me earlier, doll,” he said as he guided her back to the bed. He slowly spun her around and pulled her back against him, his chest to her back. She arched against him when he mouthed against her neck. His hand lightly squeezed one of her breasts through her dress. “You remember that?”
She nodded. He squeezed the other and she panted.
“Do you still want me to make good on that?”
She whimpered and her head fell back against his shoulder. A low chuckle rose out of him when she whispered a yes.
“You dressing nice does it for me too,” he admitted as he guided her to bend over the edge of the bed. His hand ran down her back to play with her bound hands, squeeze her ass, then down her thighs to where the hem of the dress was. If it tore a little when he yanked it up over her hips, she didn’t care. He nudged her feet apart and she turned her head against the bed to look back at him. He leaned over her and she shuddered at his breath against her ear. “But fuck, you look damn good like this too. Real fucking good.”
He tore her panties down and the only thought that crossed her mind when he got his hands, all of him, on her, was that she would have to put Jon Moxley in suits more often. Forever, if possible.
This was requested by @bellalutionn! Thank you so much for your request, as well as your patience, on this one. I hope you like it! <3
Pairing: Jon Moxley x OFC.
Rating: M.
Prompt(s): “I’m pregnant.”
Warnings/Content: Mild smut at the beginning but rest is fluff!
Word Count: 1,033.
(I don’t own gif; credit to audreyhrnes!)
Jon was a brute in the ring and a master purveyor of violence. A bulldog, some said. That was never out of the question and she would fully admit it was part of what drew her to him. The other part? It was the way he was when they were alone. His low drawl, the way he called her doll, and how his dimples became even more pronounced when they clinked their glasses together that first time.
Those intense blue eyes of his locked on where they joined and his large hands splayed across her hips. Other than their heavy breaths and the slight creak of the hotel mattress, the morning was quiet. A space made for them. He was nothing but gentle with her. Sometimes rough if the mood struck the two of them. The morning didn't call for that. His hand had been slung low over her hips and she felt him hard against her naked back. Somewhere, their hands linked and he dragged her on top of him. For such an imposing and unpredictable man to most everyone else, she knew the places hidden behind his sharp edges that could get a laugh out of him. His stomach tightened and he growled a faint warning when her fingers dug into his sides.
"Oh no, doll, that's not fair," he murmured as his eyes dragged up her body. His hips jumped up against hers and held his bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands went to her chest and she braced herself against him. "You can't do that when you got me in such a compromised position."
She leaned forward, nearly chest to chest with him, and kissed him. It was a slow, languid kind of kiss. A lazy one that knew where it was heading but they weren't in any rush to get there. It wasn't their style. She pulled away and huffed against his lips.
"Oh, is that what you are? Compromised?"
Her fingertips grazed his side again and she could feel that growl in his chest. Then he was on top of her, the bulk of him between her legs. He took her hands in his and held them above her head. His hips rolled into hers, muscle against muscle. Bone against bone. A comfortable pressure. Her toes curled and they sighed together. Mornings with Jon Moxley were never wasted.
---
She sat on the edge of the bathtub and bounced her foot as she waited. She was on the third test because she was nothing if not thorough. Jon rummaged through something outside the door and she dabbed at the nervous sweat that lined her forehead. Most times they were careful. She should have known it was the lazy, easy mornings that might be the culprit. Minutes passed and she checked the test.
"Hey Jon?"
Jon seemed to stub his toe on something and she could hear him rattle off a line of swears. The bathroom door opened and there he stood, brows slightly lifted and his eyes slightly wide. He was nervous too. When she told him she needed to buy some tests, he had dropped everything he was doing to go with her and he hadn't left her side since. Up until the bathroom, at least.
"You alright, doll? What does it say?"
He seemed to be waiting for her invitation to join him and she patted the spot beside her. It was kind of funny to see Jon Moxley, a monolith of a man, squat to sit on the edge of the bathtub with her. She stifled a laugh behind her hand and he smirked at her.
"What, this funny to you? My knees are gonna fucking hate me for this."
The humor eased their nerves and when their laughter quieted, there was nothing else to do but tell him. She turned the tests over in her hand so he could see them.
"Well, I'm pregnant."
"Holy shit."
The two spoke at once and she quickly examined his face. She didn't know what she would do if she saw any hint of regret or disgust or--
She was off the edge of the bathtub and pulled up unto his arms. He had considerable height on her and she balanced on her tiptoes to stay upright.
"We're having a baby?"
His normally heavy and rough voice sounded so soft in her ear. There was enough affection in his tone to make her eyes water.
"Yeah, Jon, I think we are."
She clung to him and nodded as he looped an arm under her ass so he could hold her against him. The way he held her was effortless as he walked them back by the bed. He sat them down on the edge of it and fumbled for his phone in his pocket.
"We're gonna be the best fucking parents to this kid. You know that, right? Our kid ain't gonna want for nothing," he said as he scrolled through his contacts. His other hand gently laid across her belly as he looked at her. Her eyes warmed at the way he looked at her. Always had. "Can I tell Eddie?"
"Tell Eddie what? Why're you callin' me, Mox? What're you tellin' me?"
Jon's eyes widened and he scrubbed a hand over his face. Shit, he must have not meant to hit call yet. She shook her head with a playful roll of her eyes and hit speakerphone. That was her way of giving her blessing and he kissed her.
"Eddie, man, I got news for you," Jon started and she could hear Eddie's impatience clear as day. "You any good at planning baby showers?"
"Baby showers? The hell I look like, some kind of baby--Oh shit. You're pregnant? You're pregnant."
"I'm not pregnant but she is, yeah," Jon said with a wink her way. "Just found out a couple minutes ago."
The call ended suddenly and the both of them stared at each other in audible confusion. When they heard the excited hollering of one Eddie Kingston coming down the hallway towards their hotel room door, it clicked. That night, she traded her usual drink for an ice water and the three of them toasted.
Jon Moxley x Female Reader
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1396
Warnings: Fluff. Just cursing I think? Oh and Eddie Kingston.
Summary: Reader is enchanted by the mysterious stranger that always comes around her record shop.
A/N: Heyyy, how are you guys doing? I'm trying to slowly get back into writing, these last couple of months wasn't the best but it's getting better (or so I hope). Hope you guys enjoy this.
If it wasn’t for the modest sign, you wouldn’t assume that that place is a record shop. The building’s façade still looked like the same one from when the shop opened in the 60’s, the same sage green with wooden accents, the striped white and green awning protecting the inside of the store from the sunlight, and golden, charming but imposing, letters saying “Fleet’s Records”.
It was almost comical to see the building side by side with its newer and more modern neighbours.
The small façade hid a big store, one with several ambients, filled with vinyls, cassettes, dvds and blu-rays. The store is divided by styles and their progression through the decades. Every week she selects an ”album of the week” that gets to be displayed in the shop’s window, and everyone who purchases the album gets a free espresso from her friend's coffee shop next door.
The shop is a family business that she inherited from her father, and he inherited from his father before him. She tried to keep the decor similar to what she remembered from when she was a kid, plants everywhere, several seats scattered around the room, mixed with a few listening stations so the clients could get a few snippets from what they were planning to buy.
He started showing up at the shop around six months ago.
A tall man, like, really tall, lean but muscular, blonde, close shaved hair and a full, ginger beard.
He’s always quiet, goes straight to the rock section, looks around for a few minutes and leaves with a couple of records.
She has tried to engage in conversation with him a few times before, to no success, he usually nods, grunts and mumbles a low “thank you” after she rings his purchases.
The only time she sees him talking is whenever he visits the store with his loud mouthed, New York accent having, green eyed friend, Eddie.
She remembers the first time the blonde actually talked to her, it happened during one of his visits with Eddie, the two men had been talking about important rap figures and the taller man told Eddie that Kanye was better than Tupac.
She grimaced.
She had been rearranging some records that were out of place when she heard the new yorker call her.
“Hey sweet cheeks,” she looked up at him, “you work here, right”
“I own the place, why?” she answered.
“Good! By the way, you’re running something great, this is better than a lot of places in New York. Anyways, my dipshit of a friend here thinks Kanye is better than Tupac, can you believe it? I need an expert's opinion, what do you think?”
It took her a few seconds to answer, Eddie’s stressed out demeanor making her want to laugh, and the little mischievous smile plastered on his friend’s face wasn’t helping.
“You don’t have to answer it.” the taller man told her, his raspy voice getting her caught off guard.
“Mox, shut up. C’mon sweetheart don’t listen to him, what’s your opinion?” Eddie cut Mox off.
Mox.
That’s a nice nickname, she thought.
She looked at Mox before speaking, his little nod and playful smile encouraging her.
“Well, as much as I do think Kanye has contributed to and innovated within the genre, I don’t think he’s better or that we’ll ever get anyone better than Pac, at least in this lifetime.”
“See, Jon! Someone who knows what they are talking about.” Eddie exclaimed excitedly, getting a few annoyed stares from other customers.
Jon smiled at her again, this time bigger, as if he was happy that she got into their little discussion without thinking that those two angry looking men were disturbing her and her customers' peace.
All she could think about was how cute the shadow of a dimple looked behind his beard.
Jon’s next visit took longer than usual to happen. Three weeks had passed after the day they had last seen each other and properly talked for the first time, the woman was setting her new record of the week at the shop’s window, when the little bell rang, signaling a new customer had just gotten inside.
“Hi.” Jon said as he closed the door.
“Are you ok?” she asked, worry filling her voice as soon as she saw his face. A few stitches in his forehead, a couple more in his upper lip and a bruise in his left cheek, those were new features in his usually tired but clean looking face.
“Yeah, why?”
She didn’t speak, but moved her index finger to motion around her face.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Just some work shit.” He moved closer to her, trying to take a peak of the record she was setting down.
The woman picked it up again, showing the man the cover. “I don’t think this is your thing.” The ocean blue of Madonna’s Ray of Light album cover caught his eye.
“What do you mean it’s not my thing? I love Madonna, everybody does!” Mox exclaimed in his mumbly voice, his reaction making her laugh.
“Do you need any help?” she asked.
“Nah, you know I already know my way around here. I’ll scream if I need you though.” he said, leaving to his already well known rock section.
He emerges back almost an hour later, arms filled with records.
She’s at the register now, and smiles when she sees the choices he made this week: Patti Smith, Hole, Garbage, L7 and Madonna’s Ray of Light.
She looks at him a little longer than usual and his dimpled smile shows up again.
“What? I got something in my face?” he asked playfully, already knowing the answer.
“Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I’m a wrestler, sweetheart, it comes with the job. Don’t worry about me.”
She only nodded and proceeded to check his items, only speaking again when she handed his purchases back to him.
“Here are your albuns and your free espresso at Rosie’s. Hope you enjoy them.”
Mox’s next move was a well thought one, one that has gone through his mind several times before since the first day he stepped inside the store.
“Would you like to waste this espresso card with me?”
The question surprised the woman, making her blush.
“Umm… I would love to but–“
“Oh! It’s ok I get it. I over step–“
“No, Mox,” she said as she grabbed his hand to make him stop. “I really would love to grab some coffee with you, but I’m short staffed today and I can’t leave. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, ok!” his voice was back to normal now. “So some other day then?”
“Yes!” she nodded profusely “I’m free whenever… I mean, if I’m not short staffed again.”
The two giggled.
“See you soon then, sweetheart.” Jon winked at her as he left.
The group of teenagers that always visited the shop after school showed up as usual, so did the elderly couple that visited the shop once a month to reminisce about their prime years, but besides that, the day followed eventless.
It was almost 6a.m. when the already familiar herbal musky scent hit her nose, mixed with the strong coffee smell that also wasn’t new to her.
“Hi.” she said shyly, but with a smile growing on her lips.
“Hey! Ummm… I’m a bit anxious and I couldn’t wait until my next visit so I brought you coffee and some other stuff.” Mox replied, a bit more fidgety than usual, clearly nervous about how she was going to react.
He handed her the bags and the cup holder before speaking again. “I asked Rosie what your favourites were.”
She opened the paper bags, only to find them filled with bagels, croissants, vanilla cream donuts and slices of red velvet cake. By the looks of it, he got her a large caramel cappuccino and a matcha latte.
“So you got all of them?”
“Yeah.” Jon answered, a bit embarrassed.
“Oh my god, you lunatic.” she giggled as she got up. “Let me grab you a stool.”
She positioned the stool behind the counter, where they sat side by side, talking, eating and sharing stories the whole night, until the shift ended.
Mox made sure to help her close the store, and insisted on walking her home, and kissed her goodbye at the front steps of her building.
Summary: Having a bit of jealousness towards Jon Moxley as a member of BCC, the reader doesn’t mind messing with him whether if it’s looks or jokes, but when Jon calls her bluff, she feels deep down inside why she feels that way…
Being in the BCC was a new, fun experience for me, but lately? It was hell.
Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for my fellow member Jon Moxley, he’s a good, fighting champion.
But everywhere I went, it was Moxley this, Moxley that. Moxley, Moxley, Moxley.
Hell, even at meet and greets, fans coming to see me would ask about him!
Jon, Bryan, Yuta, and I got some dinner after a meet and greet, heading to the hotel together and boys will be boys.
They were play fighting in the elevator and I took a chance to make a joke:
“Hey, don’t push him too hard, he might start bleeding.”
Bryan and Yuta didn’t even bother to hold back their laughs while shaking Jon around and him? He had this stare, deep into my eyes and I smiled at him in return.
“Well guys, the night was fun,” Bryan patted Jon on the back and fist bumped me, Yuta following him out as the elevator came to a stop.
“See ya, guys.” I waved softly and Jon didn’t move an inch or say goodbye. His eyes were still fixed on me.
As the elevator closed and headed up more, Jon caught my attention by pushing the stop button.
“Dude, what are you doing?” I shot quickly, growing curious while he fixed his title on his shoulder, saying:
“You and I need to have a talk.”
“And you had to stop the elevator for that?” I groaned, not being able to finish as he said quickly:
“Why do you envy me so much?”
“Envy you?” I giggled, shaking my head at him, “I wouldn’t call it envy.”
“You don’t like that I’m the number one guy in BCC, in AEW. You envy me,” He was certain that was the case and he wasn’t wrong truthfully.
Leaning back against the wall and crossing my arms, I smirked at him, “I just like pushing your buttons. It’s fun to mess with you.”
“Just pushing my buttons, huh?” Stepping up to me, his blue eyes light up some with a small smile, “I get it, now.”
“Get what?” This time, he didn’t say anything, just smiling at me and I had a feeling of what he was thinking, steering away from it:
“You know what, I won’t lie. You’re the star of BCC, but when I win the women’s title? You’re gonna be blinded by my light.”
“Yeah, sure, man,” His eyes rolled and I corrected just to mess with him some:
“I’m not a man.”
“Okay, dude,” He started laughing at me, “And don’t complain about that. You say that to guys and chicks.”
“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes back, hitting the elevator button so it would go again and as I leaned, I heard his whisper:
“And good luck trying to top me.”
“I’m sure I could do it easily,” I could never let someone get away with a slick comment and he was no different, winking at him too.
“That’s what you think,” Of course, he had to keep dragging this on and I glared at him when I faced him this time:
“Bite me.”
“Haha,” He chuckled softly, winking back at me, “I am a biter. You into too?”
In that moment, I started to realize why we always bickered and messed with one another so much, my heart rate picking up when he propped himself up by the arm on the wall behind me, taking another step closer so there was barely any space between us.
“Maybe,” Looking him up and down, there was the aurora that he had, making me loosen up, subconsciously slipping into deeper thoughts that revealed my true feelings buried deep within me, “If I were you, I’d be careful. I have a hard bite.”
“There you go trying to one up me again,” He seemed to be complaining, but a devilish smirk on his face, putting his foot on the pedal when he shrugged, “But fuck it, there’s only one way to find out.”
One touch of his lips against mine made my cold blood run hot and since he wanted a bite, I took his lip, biting down with a bit of force, pulling his lip back with my head:
“I’ll be nice and take it easy on you.”
“Naw, I don’t do easy,” His head came back to mine, kissing me more along with a whisper, “I don’t know who you think you are with this attitude, but if we’re gonna get busy, I’m gonna do a whole lot of bad things with you.”
“Bad things, hm?” I hummed, looking to the elevator doors as it dinged and came to a stop, “Come show me what you mean by bad things then.”
“Oh, you’re gonna find out,” He snickered, pulling me along with him to the elevator so we could head into my room.
Stepping in, he tossed his title onto the chair in the corner, enjoying one last kiss before practically ripping each others clothes off.
We had physical chemistry considering how much we trained with each other and he read me easily.
The moment my hands went up to take him by the shoulders, he took me by both wrists, his strength lifting me up some and slamming down on the bed and keeping me pinned.
“What happened to topping me, Y/N?” His laugh was evil and this dominance, strength, it did turn me on even more, but I poked at him:
“You’re such a dick, you know that?”
“I know I can be,” He acknowledged, shifting his hips upward and easily slipped the tip of his cock into me, slamming his hips back down so hard that my breast flung upward, jaw dropping with a gasp, “But how’s that for some dick, huh?”
“Jon-“ This time I didn’t have a comeback, just moaning at how his cock was inside of me, clenching more and more at his rough thrust, giving every inch each time his hips smacked into mine and about splitting down the middle.
“And oh yeah,” Leaning down and biting my lip with his kiss, his head dipped down so he could whisper in my ear, “Don’t think that you weren’t gonna learn how hard I bite too.”
“Bite me with all you got,” I encouraged, the filthiest moan flying out of me when I felt his teeth sinking into my neck.
He could’ve taken a chunk out of me if he really wanted to, not loosening and growling along with quicker snaps of his hips that sent my whole body upward with the shaking bed.
“Oh fuck,” I could barely get the words out with the air being knocked out of me, so lost in the swirling world in my head, hips jerking along with the spasm of my walls, “Bite me harder, Jon.”
“Hope they can cover these marks for the show tomorrow,” He snickered, leaving hickeys all over my neck before he threw my right leg up and over his shoulder, spanking my ass hard with it exposed, pushing his and my weight down onto me when he bit at my neck again, knowing exactly what I was feeling:
“You gonna cum all over my dick?”
I was sure he wanted to hear me say it, my arm wrapping around his head with my nails sinking in, delivering my own bite on his shoulder, just as hard as is after I whined out:
“Gonna cum so much with you going like this!”
“Good,” He muffled out, spanking a sting into my ass again, leaving me with no oxygen again, his entire body weight behind his thrusts, “Cum, right now.”
I didn’t need his command, panting and gasping as my walls clenched so hard my nerves jolted all at once, my back arching instantly as another reaction, hearing a deep growl from him and his teeth sinking deep and hard into my neck, making me scream:
“Fuck, Jon!”
He picked up his head quickly to look at me and I was still at an intense high, rocking my hips up to keep the feeling for as long as I could, pulling his head back down so I could find his shoulder to bite again, whining at the languid series of thrusts he had still.
“Whoops,” He was giggling under his pants, slipping out of me and I was still moaning at my walls now clenching around nothing, leaving me with an ache, side eyeing him when I felt his finger running along my neck.
Even I could feel the indents of his teeth along my neck, the heat radiating off of it, seeing blood on his finger tip.
“You’re lucky that was so hot,” I smirked, not minding in the slightest, I was sure I could get all of the marks and bruises covered up.
“I can say the same to you,” Looking to his shoulder, I wasn’t the only one with some marks on them.
“Don’t try and sass me,” I took my turn to feel his shoulder, leaning up slightly to kiss it, “I know you loved every second of that, you wild thing.”
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he sat idly, in wait. in an uncomfortable folded chair positioned in the centre of your shared bedroom. the winter chill ghosted over his already bare frame, goose bumps rose to his frozen skin, normally the sensation would not bug him, but tonight it seemed to irk him more than ever. jon was not a patient man per say, never has been, yet the longer you stood behind him, in a desperate attempt to bind his wrists together, the more his impatience and arousal grew.
yet he said nothing, remaining silent for the moment, rather enjoying the sensation of your warm breath against the nape of his neck, a soft grunt of frustration leaving your lips in your struggle, one of which make him smirk to himself. he merely sighed in wait, the sound more condescending than you’d like to admit to yourself.
“jon, sit still…” you muttered with sight annoyance at the way your boyfriend's wrists would twirl against the rope, struggling to get the knots to stay tightly in place. he offered a small huff in response, rather amused at the scene playing out behind him.
“how long does it take to tie a knot, doll” he taunted, cerulean blues peering over his shoulder to watch, he must admit, your inept handiwork. staring daggers back in his direction, still not a word leaving your lips in response. he merely raised his eyebrows, a cocky still still plastered across his lip, simply turning his head back to face the wall.
a small, elated gasp left your lips, as to what you determined was an unbreakable knot that kept his wrists bound, jon feigned struggle against the ropes, but that was unbeknownst to you. quickly you stripped yourself, the soft shuffle of you ridding yourself of your clothing, to the thud of said material hitting the carpet below, it had caught his attention. you made your way around him, hovering over you like he had done a million times. he stared, pupils blown and mouth hung slightly ajar. icy grey eyes scanning your frame meticulously. starting from your chest, your perfect breast, naturally full and round, hardened nipples being warmed by his breath. his gaze continue downward, to your stomach, still marked by his lips, now a faded yellow, almost golden brown hue, your stomach, while not exactly flat, it rounded slightly at the bottom, all women have it, and its natural, he knew that, but goddamn if it wasn’t the most sexiest thing to him. plus it was a big bonus for his breeding kink. he’d love nothing more than to watch your stomach grow with his seed. eyes still travelling down, to the axis of your hip and thigh, trailing down to in between, your cunt glistening with sweetness under moonlight, he could practically taste you.
“so…” he began, steely irises now peering up to meet your gaze one more. “are you gonna ride my cock or what?”
his arrogance was playful, you knew that much, as he slumped back into the chair, his cock already hard at the sight of you bare before him. you simply giggled in response, positioning your hands upon his shoulders slowly lowering yourself on his thigh.
“not yet, daddy” your words muttered into the crook of his neck, the sound reverberating against his skin. you began to slowly buck your hips, your sweetness already glossing his thigh. it was not the fact you were fucking yourself on his thigh, it was the fact that he could not touch you while doing so. he’d love nothing more than to wrap his arms around your waist, slamming you down onto his thick cock.
“fuck…” he grunted, adoring the way your dripping folds rocked against his thigh, the side of his cock just barely grazing the outer of your own, the sensation only phantoms of the stimulation you could provide him. you steadied yourself against his chest, hips jolting whenever your clit met his tight at a particular angle.
god his was going insane right now! from the lack of contact on his behalf, to the way you were grinding against his thigh, soft pleas and moans for release, thighs shaking with each movement you gave, he could feel the soft pulse of you cunt against his skin, so wet, so warm.
“you love this, don’t you daddy?” you queried, craning your neck back to meet his gaze, hands wrapping around the back of his neck, staring seductively into his eyes.
“i’d love it even better if you were riding my cock, doll” he only stared back for a moment, revealing his arms, now having freed himself, very easily might i add, from the restraints used to bound him moments prior. your eyes widened in shock and horror, so much so that you had completely halted your movements, effective edging yourself. how the hell did he manage to undo the ropes?! you were sure, a hundred and ten percent sure you had tightened them to prevent this sort of thing from happening!
his hands fell to your waist quickly, rather harshly prying you from his thigh, your cunt practically dripping with want. he pulled you into his chest, holding you there for a moment with one hand as he used the other to position his cock at your entrance.
“amateur…” he remarked smugly, slamming you down onto his thick size. although you were unfazed by his condescending comment, you were relieved to be once again filled to the brim with his cock, despite how much you wanted to cum on his thigh.
his arms still held a death lock around you waist, his hips bucking upward, roughly fucking up into you. your mouth hung open, what were once soft moans, now echoing loudly in his ears. an animalistic growl fell from his lips, having to bury his head into your shoulder to suppress his moans and quiet himself. not necessarily because he wanted or needed to be quiet, more or less because he wanted to hear you scream, hear you cry out his name while you cum all over his cock.
you could barely speak, mind to fucked out to even think coherent sentences let alone speak. a cacophony of moans rung out throughout your shared bedroom, a mixture of yours and his, bodies crying and screaming for release. his speed increased and with that so did the force of his thrusts, completely bottoming out and hitting your cervix with every movement.
you cried out in pleasure, sweetness coating his cock much as you wished you would of done to his thigh, still he remained relentless, slamming into you with such force that left you a shell of your former self, completely fucked out beyond knowledge. with a low grunt he buried himself inside your walls for the final time, his thick cock fucking his hot seed deep inside your warmth, sweet cunt pulsing around his length.
he left your body shaking with such wonder, mind and skin buzzing with lust. you collapsed into his chest, with heavy breaths, hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes. he kept himself buried deep within your void, his breath also starting to falter as he came down from his own high.
“now have you learnt your lesson about tying me up, doll?” he panted, beads of sweat gathered at his hairline, slowly rolling down his temples. you gave him a weak nod in response, body still held a light shudder, comfortably pressed up against his chest.
“good girl”
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