cyb3rthoughts

[cyb3rthoughts]

IN YOUR HOUSE 2 (1995): Shawn Michaels vs Jeff Jarrett, singles match for the WWF Intercontinental Championship

[cyb3rthoughts]

⌗ ˚ ͙◌˖ ࣪ . ִֶָ𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝐇𝐇𝐇 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟗𝟎𝘀˖ ࣪ .ִֶָ

(f!reader, fluff, language, mentions of drug and alcohol use, smuttish, i've lost my touch i fear)

⏾ you didn't really care for hunter when he first joined the wwf. you didn’t exactly know who he was, you just saw him around backstage. he wasn’t exactly memorable to you, he had the basic wrestler look. 6’3, blond, muscular. not much to think about.

⏾ hunter, on the other hand, had his eyes on the prize way before signing with wwf. you had been established in the company as women’s champion at the time, the company heavily relied on you as their top female draw. you were great, the fans loved you, and your merch sold.

⏾ after he was signed, he’d just admire you from afar, you were so effortlessly cool. you've always been his wrestling crush. you were beyond talented, bombshell of a beauty, so, so sweet, and well liked by everyone. of course everyone liked you, look at you. the things he would’ve done to even be near you.

⏾ hunter began hanging out with shawn (who had essentially recruited him for the kliq) almost immediately. you and shawn were really good friends at the time, as vince had put the tag team belts on you and shawn as a joke. shawn could immediately tell that hunter had a thing for you, the way he could barely pull a proper "hello" when you're around immediately gave it away. hunter's eyes would be glued to your face, and up and down your body, he'd immediately smile and look away, slightly blushing when you'd even glance at him.

"dude, what's all that about?"

"don't. don't even, I just-.. she's.. wow."

"do you want me to introduce you-"

"yes, please."

⏾ you were somehow, magically, (backstage politically, shawn michaels sends his regards) dragged into a romance angle with hunter. he was the new signing, and the company wanted to give him a little push. so, now you two were forced to be around each other a lot. you dropped the tag belts soon there after, but kept the women's championship.

⏾ he had kept his french aristocrat gimmick from wcw, but instead of Jean Paul Levesque, he was now Hunter Hearst Helmsley. you were his ‘wife’, y/n y/l/n-helmsley, you escorted him into the ring, interfered in his matches, and cut promos with him. you spent a lot of time on and off the road with him, it's not like either of you had a choice.

⏾ you two slowly became friends, though the dynamic was a bit weird at first since he seemed to be a big fan of you. he kept up some of his 'aristocratic' behaviours, he was trying so hard to win you over. he'd hold doors open for you, always keep as seat open for you, push chairs in and out for you, carry your stuff whether it's a bag or a championship belt.

⏾ and warm up to him, you did. you thought he was really sweet, even though he'd give you 'funny eyes' when you worked out together. hunter was always complimenting you, your matches, your gear, your looks, anything. if he could find a way into your heart, he sure was going to sweet-talk his way there.

"your match was so good earlier, I watched the whole thing."

"yeah, I know. I saw you at the commentary table, burning holes into my body."

"how could I not? you're so talented, and you looked so damn gorgeous."

⏾ a friendship was beginning to blossom between you two, he was actually genuinely so lovely. it was nice for once to not be the only one sober when the rest of the kliq were either drunk or stoned off their mind. you two became the friend groups 'parents', and were often left alone when shawn, kev, scott and sean were passed out.

⏾ you could talk to him for hours about the most random things ever, whether it was wrestling, music, life, ways to get the idiots on the floor to sober up, it was just so easy to talk to him. you two had a whole lotta chemistry in real life, and it translated into the ring.

⏾ having you almost as a 'mentor' to his french gentleman character was constantly messing with his brain. it was like the really hot, popular girl tutoring the new guy in class.

⏾ you were trying to hard to teach him how to cut a babyface promo, but he just couldn't do it the way you wanted him to. he was just a natural heel. you ended up convincing vince to turn you both heel, as it would've been better for him. but, as you turned heel, vince wanted you two to turn up the sexual element of your on screen relationship.

⏾ you were now all over each other at all times, you were wearing shorter dresses, unbuttoning his white shirt before matches for him, he was constantly groping you and kissing your neck, just touchy.

⏾ you two immediately became significantly closer. the tension from your fake relationship spilling into your friendship. it was obvious, something was happening here.

⏾ you two were now hanging out without shawn, or the chaos of the kliq, just one on one. you work out together in hotel gyms, go on coffee runs because the coffee in the arena sucks, eat together in catering way before or after lunch breaks so you can be with each other in peace. sometimes, you'd just sit together just to be in each other's presence.

⏾ you and hunter were entering the mutual crush phase, and it was so beyond obvious to everyone around you.

⏾ shawn was your biggest fan, no one wanted you two to get together more than he did. he was always teasing you two, making loud kissing noises when you and hunter were doing literally anything, 'your girlfriend' to hunter's face when you were right there. shawn would even purposefully create situations where you and hunter had to be basically breathing each other's air. whether it's him taking up more space in cars so you'd be forced to sit on hunter's lap, or talking one of the boys who didn’t need much convincing into locking you two in a a tiny closet.

⏾ then degeneration-x formed, you two couldn't escape each other now.

⏾ shawn lobbied hard for you and hunter to be in the faction, and it was immediate perfection. it became a public secret that you and hunter had something going on, everyone backstage was so aware of it, and the fans began seeing it during shows. it was obvious it wasn't just the 'y/n and hunter are married' thing, even commentary would make jokes about it.

⏾ it went from casual friends, to close friends, to no one really knows what's going in with you two. now became stolen glances, hidden touches, whispered words, longing looks, painful yearning. hunter was always hugging you, his arms were always around your shoulders or you waist, hand glued to your hip, heart eyes.

⏾ you two were almost always cuddled up, hunter didn't care if people talked, he was obsessed with you. he wanted to always be near you, to be the one who made you laugh, to be the one who made you feel safe and love. he would even kiss your head and cheeks, he didn't care who saw. the relentless teasing was worth it, all the jokes and the stares. it was all worth those couple minutes of intimacy.

⏾ but he wanted more, both of you did.

⏾ it all boiled up to a moment when are four of you were on the road. shawn had stopped the car, and him and chyna went into a convenient store to buy some snacks and drinks. you and hunter were sitting in the back seat when he turned to you, and asked;

"why aren't i your boyfriend?"

"you haven't asked me-"

"can you please be my girlfriend? like please?"

"yeah, i would love that."

⏾ by the time shawn and chyna came back, you two were busy making out, not paying attention to anything but each other. shawn loudly knocked on the window, "happy for you, idiots, but not in my car." he said, chyna laughing in the background.

⏾ hunter is so obsessed with you.

⏾ hunter is also such a jealous boyfriend. it took him so long to finally have you all to himself, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you get away from him. he fucking hated the way some wrestlers backstage looked at you, sometimes even the fans at ringside pissed him off. you were his, and his alone.

⏾ he would possessively show you off. if someone in particular was annoying him, he'd pull you as close as possible to him, sometimes on his lap if he could. he'd hold and kiss you while holding eye contact with that person. he didn't give a fuck, you were his.

⏾ he'd also refuse to let you out of his sight. if you had a match, or a promo, he's there watching, the furthest he could be was gorilla. if you had to change, he was in your locker room. he was always there, but he had limits, of course. if you wanted to be left alone, he respected your boundaries.

⏾ he was so protective of you, so, so protective. he hates seeing you upset, or bothered. he would do anything to make his girl happy. he didn't care if he had to spend his entire cheque spoiling you, hunter would go to hell back to see you smile.

"is that a diamond fucking ring?"

"anything for my baby."

⏾ loves, loves, loves when you ask him to give you head. that man is a munch, i don't care what anyone thinks. especially as he gets older, baby, that alone gets him off.

⏾ absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes, specifically in his leather jackets.

⏾ super touchy. whether it's a hand around your waist, around your shoulders, finger hooked on a belt loop on your pants. hunter always needs contact, especially when emotions are high. you're the only person who he could feel genuinely and wholly vulnerable with.

⏾ huge on cheek and forehead kisses

⏾ genuinely, has a sexual thing for you sitting his lap. has something to do with him being so much bigger than you.

⏾ massive daddy kink, even worse sir kink.

⏾ also has thing for seeing you in his merch, or anything with his name on it.

⏾ literally gets so annoyed and straight up upset when you have to do anything. he wants you to just sit back and relax, he wants to take care of you all the time. hates seeing you up on your feet doing something he could do for you. he gets borderline embarrassed.

“where are you going?”

“to get.. water..?”

“water? mhm, what else do you want?”

“uhm.. a sandwich…?”

“seat your ass the fuck down, then.”

⏾ you’re so beyond spoiled in this relationship. want a sandwich? he’ll start with making his own bread from scratch. need a change of clothes? here’s his comfiest hoodie, while he does your laundry. want to paint your nails? gel, or regular polish? you want a diamond ring? do you want that lab grown or naturally mined?

⏾ when he began growing his beard, he became absolutely in love with you trimming and cleaning it up for him. he closeness, having you on his lap, the bathroom smells like aftershave and your perfume, your clothes are slightly damp and he can’t get that silly smile of his face for you to actually work.

⏾ you’re his bestest friend :(

⏾ constantly reminds you that he loves you, mostly because he’s loves hearing you telling him you love him back.

⏾ gets the most raging boners when you tug on his hair. like, this man is borderline whimpering when your fingers barely graze his scalp.

⏾ the second you’re on your knees for him, he loses his mind. it’s like he can’t breathe anymore.

⏾ LIVES between your thighs. his eyes barely open, licking and sucking, he’s humping the bed beneath him. it’s gets him off so much. (i’m obsessed w this can u tell)

⏾ sit on his face, smother him. his nose takes care of your clit. (iykyk)

⏾ “angel” and “baby” are his favourite nicknames for you.

⏾ one of his favourite things to do was to rub the fact that you’re his in the faces of your fanboys. he lived for it, it gave him an excuse to be all over you on national television. the explicitness of dx also added to him being just inappropriate on live television.

“see this? see all of this? *actively groping you*, i get to have this gorgeous, sexy woman all to myself *more groping ofc*. and you pathetic scums can’t have her, you can just watch. *groping intensifies*”

“suck it? i mean, as long as it’s this pretty little thing”

⏾ (stupidly) flirts with you like his life depends on it

“ya come here often?”

“??? we both work here.”

⏾ 5939/10, need him. need him bad

[cyb3rthoughts]

WWE Wrestling Fan Signs.

[cyb3rthoughts]

Idc I want this era back

[cyb3rthoughts]

shawn michaels attends the vsda convention in las vegas, 1996.

[cyb3rthoughts]

THE SHIELD

[cyb3rthoughts]

his hair is making me insane

[cyb3rthoughts]

i need them

[cyb3rthoughts]

Shawn Michaels interviewing Bob Backlund at the Heartbreak Hotel (Oct 8, 1994)

[cyb3rthoughts]

Kill Him with Kindness

Synopsis- you’re an interviewer for WWE, a sweet one at that. Randy Orton on the other hand, is not. & he loves to see just how far he can push your buttons before you throw it back at him.

Warnings- language

Word Count- 2.5k

It’s complete and utter silence as Randy walks through the doors backstage. The moment he stepped inside, you could hear a pin drop from a mile away. It was like all the air was sucked straight out of the room.

You were standing there when he first walked in. Being an interviewer you usually have lots of time to wait around after getting your schedule for the night. Which called for lots of chatting (gossiping) when you weren’t busy. Plus you had already been there for a couple of hours, and gotten ready for the evening.

So you leaned against the wall doing just that. You were talking with Melina, one of your closest friends. She had a huge championship match tonight with Beth Phoenix. She was absolutely buzzing with excitement.

As she rambled on, about the moves she wanted to do and how much she loved her new gear for the night. A loud thud of the doors shutting caused you to jump. When you looked up, you saw him sauntering through the walkway. It went silent, everyone in sight stopped and looked at him. Melina immediately noticed your gaze shift and she turned around too.

He walked in with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he was in a world of his own. Which wasn’t far from ordinary. His head held high as he swam through a sea of stares.

He didn’t look at anybody, as he kept his eyes straight ahead. Until he passed you. He slowly dropped his head down, cocking it to the side as he held eye contact for a moment. You barely let your lips curl in a faintly ghosted smile. Your eyes too lingering as he went by.

His expression stayed stoic, unreadably blank. The usual look he wore.

It had become evident to you, you were always too nice to him. Over time it seemed to turn into a game you both played.

He wasn’t nice. That was his game.

You on the other hand have an over the top friendly nature. That inturn annoyed the shit out of him.

You two butt heads like crazy, lately a strange relationship developed. One where he loves to pick and poke and prod, at every last thing he can when it comes to you. And instead of giving him the reaction or whatever it is he wants.

You kill him with kindness, and the cycle continues.

Although sometimes you really have to put him in his place. Like one time you had pulled him for an interview and right before the cameras started rolling he said “that’s what you’re wearing?” Looking you up and down judgmentally, knowing it would drive you crazy.

Not even two seconds later, cameras were up and he was back into character. Leaving you scrambling to not overthink your whole existence and still perform well yourself. Of course afterwards you asked him “what the hell was that for?”

“What? I was going to say it’s a nice shade of purple.” He feigned shock, a sarcastic chuckle escaping him, and you understood. He couldn’t possibly care about the color of your dress. He only wanted to get a rise out of you. You just rolled your eyes, and walked away after that, refusing to give him what he wanted.

Although, more often than not your interactions left you jittery and flustered. Especially when he just looks at you, without saying a word.

Melina, turned back around to face you as he passed by, while your eyes stayed on his departing figure. Her loud voice snapped you out of whatever that weird trance was.

“Damnn you got it bad, girl.” She cackled, slapping a hand to your arm.

Your eyes went wide. “Shut up I do not!” You instantly deny it every time. You’re not even sure why. It just feels less embarrassing than admitting your attraction.

“Yeah Yeah and I’m the queen of England.” She chuckles as she scoops your arm up to link it around hers. “Cmon I want a quick snack before later.” Her eyebrows bounce up and down, excitedly. You giggle and walk with her, agreeing that you could use some food too.

But while you walked, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows as you thought to yourself.

Was it that obvious?

———————-

You both make it to catering, and take a b- line for the food. It's first come first serve and this was prime food getting time apparently. Every single person on the Raw roster seemed like they were in there.

Including of course. Randy.

He had his back turned to you, as he filled a plate with an assortment of different foods. He didn’t notice you at first. And you didn’t dare try to make eye contact or talk to him. You didn’t want to face any more possible ridicule and teasing at the hands of your best friend.

You grabbed a bag of chips, as she did the same. You both sat down at the only empty table around. That is until you heard a loud screech of the chair next to you.

Looking up you’re met with a tall, distractingly muscular, Randy Orton.

He sat down, not saying anything as he kept that same expressionless face.

You didn’t say anything either, as you watched him. Continually shoveling the cheesy chips.

Melina being the smartass she is, couldn’t contain herself. “Oh sure! Please sit.” She sarcastically gestured as he pulled his seat closer to the table.

You try to hold in your giggle as you kick her leg under the table.

“She’s kidding, you’re kidding.” You look at Randy reassuring him and then back at her. You try giving her a silent but expressive “be nice” look.

“mmm” she starts contradicting you, but you cut her off before she can fully disagree.

“So are you ready for Tonight?” You ask sweetly, turning to him. Hoping to distract from her unwelcoming vibes. “It’s you and Hunter right?” You stuffed more chips in your mouth, trying to seem as normal as possible.

He gave you a prolonged annoyed look, how dare you ask him a normal question? But you stayed looking at him with a smile plastered on your lips refusing to waiver. In turn his eyes softened a bit but only for a second before he was speaking.

He didn’t respond to your question, instead leaning over closer to you. “Why don’t you just worry about your performance huh?” His vile tone, aggressive as ever.

It sent a jolt to your heart, causing it to race into overdrive. But you refused to let your face show your cards. Even though sometimes it worked against you, you hoped now wouldn’t be the time.

You wondered why he even sat down here, if he was just going to be an asshole. But then again, you remembered who you were talking to. It almost was like messing with you was his favorite thing to go out of his way to do. Second to wrestling of course.

So you let your smile creep up further on your cheeks. You were trying to be as convincing as possible, even if you were aggravated out of your mind.

“Well let’s just hope all your moves land right! I know that was probably scary last week.” You spit back, referring to his botched RKO last Monday Night Raw when he flew over the top rope landing directly on the ground. You coated your biting words with sugar, something that you were oh so good at.

A side smirk found its way to his face, he loved that you were giving him a taste of his own medicine. Though you could tell that still got under his skin. He shuffled, sliding forward in his seat, it seemed like he was trying to think of a quick comeback.

Just before he does, in your peripheral you see Melina start to shuffle out of her own seat. You were pretty sure she was just getting up to throw away her trash. But you can also never tell with that girl, she could’ve mauled him right then and there for being mean to you. She’s a little over protective.

“You know what-“ he starts

Just as he does, you jump up, dropping your hand to his broad shoulder to cut him off. “Sorry, gotta run good luck tonight!” You quickly turn around, grabbing Melina by the arm and dragging her away.

Just as you're finally out of sight she turns back to you. “God I don’t know how you don’t slap that jerk!” She started to shout emphatically. “Shhh!” You pull her into your side trying to keep her quiet. All the while still laughing at her irritation.

“He's just like that.” You respond with an eye roll just thinking about it. “It’s fun to mess with his head anyways.” You shrugged.

She cackled in response leaning into you as you both strutted back to the locker rooms. Or wherever you were gonna end up next to kill time.

————————

It had been an eventful Raw, and you had your fair share of interesting interviews. One that included a very eccentric “Goldust.” He spoke in gibberish like always. Then he decided to throw actual gold dust in the air, absolutely covering you from head to toe, in the sparkly substance.

Thank god that was your last interview for the night. So you decided to go find a change of clothes, for the last bit of the show.

You headed back to the locker rooms, hoping to be as fast as possible. Even if you didn’t necessarily have to, you didn’t like missing much of the show and the main event was nearing.

You turned a corner, finally arriving at the changing room when you were stopped by a shadowy figure.

Randy.

You had just minutes ago seen him look like he was fighting for his life. His chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing. The water bottle in his hand crunched with every gulp he took. He obviously thought he was alone. Because just as he was done chugging he noticed your approach, and turned all his attention to you.

Even though you’d hoped to just sneak past without a word. Unfortunately you weren’t so lucky.

“Woah woah hey.” He said sturn, holding out his arm like a railroad crossing so you couldn’t go by.

You huffed, not in the mood for his antics right now. “Hm?” Was all you could muster up.

“What? you’re not gonna tell me how great I did?”

“You’re Miss down to earth right?” He followed his question up with another one.

Your hands now landed on your hips, as your head involuntarily cocked to the side at him.

You guessed it was because you were distracted by only wanting to clean the glitter off. That you didn’t at you didn’t at first notice that he was in his full, (or lack thereof) ring gear. His body smothered with baby oil, and with how close he was getting. It was like you could literally feel the heat radiating off of him.

Then all of the sudden you got nervous. You again involuntarily, subconsciously or accidentally. Maybe even all of the above, checked him out. Your eyes fell to his boots, then drank him in like a tall drink of water. His abs were practically staring you in the face.

Then you felt your cheeks get hot, and that very familiar jittery feeling made its way through your bones. You couldn’t think of a clever response, all you thought was run, run, run.

So that’s what you did, or tried to anyway. You bolt turning around hoping your eyes, or blushed face hadn’t given you away.

He somehow, speedily jumped in front of you, refusing to let you escape. He was now holding his arm across the width of the door frame to keep you from going inside. Now all you could think about was how damn big his arms are.

You huffed again, still not saying a word.

Something switched inside you, your once apparent confidence had shifted to bashfulness. He seemed to notice too. Of course he had to take advantage of that.

You could hardly make eye contact, darting your eyes all around from the wall, to the floor, his arms again. His face stayed unmoving, boring its gaze into yours.

After what felt like a full eternity, he started leaning in close. He took his time, moving slowly until you could feel his breath against the shell of your ear.

“Gold suits you.” He spoke barley above a whisper.

You pull back to look him in the eyes, somehow trying to find that gumption you once had.

“Better than purple?” You ask matter of factly, as you remembered that past interaction.

His chest rumbled, slowly with an almost impressed chuckle.

“But yeah you did good, would’ve been great had you won.” You said before you even thought about what you were saying.

He scoffed, taking a step back but still holding his long arm across the door. “Woah! I knew you had it in you.”

He hissed, his face still hovering in front of yours.

“What is it you want?” You question your confidence slowly coming back, only because you were now too distracted by your irritation.

He sighs “I want you to stop acting so… so nice, when I know you can’t stand me.” He responds, in a rage laced tone.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused by his statement. Sure you didn’t always like how he acted but you surely didn’t hate him.

It would be a lot easier if you did.

“I don’t hate you Randy.” For some reason his comment made your exterior soften ever so slightly. “Just hate it when you're a dick.”

You reached up grabbing his forearm, to move him out of your way. He let you, not resisting against your touch. Which shocked you. He still stood covering most of the doorway, so you had to squeeze past him to get through, the side of your body just barely grazing him. He seemed stunned at your total honesty, it was something he wasn’t always used to in this business.

He turned around, watching as you walked further into the deserted room. Suddenly something dawned on him. The reason why he treated you specifically the way he did. Or why even though you annoyed him, he was magnetically drawn to you. Then out of nowhere he blurted out “go on a date with me.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, spinning on your heels, but still staying in the same spot. You didn’t know what to say as he stayed in the doorway staring holes through you awaiting an answer.

You tried to seem as cool, calm and collected as possible. Even though inside you were flipping out.

“Ask me next week, Legend Killer.” was all you said, you internally palmed your forehead for using one of his many nicknames. Why did I say that? You thought.

He looked down, caught off guard by it too, and huffed out a quick laugh.

“But right now I’m going to take a shower.” You continue, pointing towards that area. He looked back up with the cheekiest grin he could possibly have, and you totally read his mind.

“And no you can’t join me!” You halfway joke.

“I uh - I wasn’t even thinking that!” He jests back, knowing damn well he was thinking exactly that.

“Goodnight Randy.” You say pointedly

“Goodnight Y/n.”

[cyb3rthoughts]

[cyb3rthoughts]

👑Trish Stratus style icon of the 90s⭐️

[cyb3rthoughts]

A pictures worth a thousand likes

Synopsis- you’re backstage watching your boyfriend Randy Orton at work. & you just kept help but take his picture.

Warnings- None, only fluff

Word count- 900

A/N- here’s a cute little one shot, hope you like!! <3333

You and your boyfriend stood backstage during a fast paced Monday night raw taping. Randy just had a match, and was sweaty, shirtless, and only craving only your company.

It was torture, as you watched from behind the curtains. Staring at his rapid, moving figure all over the ring. His tattoo covered arms flexing, every time he’d throw a punch. Or cut thighs defined even more after every kick.

It didn’t matter how long you’ve been with him. He still always got you hot and bothered. Especially tonight. You weren’t even sure who he was fighting, at least you couldn’t remember anymore.

Any and all thought consisted of him and only him.

He had met you in the back afterwards, where you waited, watching. Which you absolutely loved to do. You were instantly greeted with a huge smile. Then a confused “what?” As he looked down at you towering over, hand grazing over the small of your back.

You realized your mouth was agape, eyes dark with lust as you

looked up. Tonight he had a rather long, and extremely physical fight. At one point you weren’t sure if he was going to win or not. Eventually he came out on top, something you loved even more.

Albeit he was too caught up in his adrenaline to notice what your facial expression said.

“That was amazing” was all you could exhale, trying to cool yourself down.

Sure you’d seen him wrestle a million times before, and even watched him in person a ton too. But it had been a while, and even though you never miss a match, the tv just doesn’t do it justice. He chuckled at your awe, throwing his heavy arm over your shoulders.

You both started to stroll back to the locker room. Stopping every time he’d bump into someone that wanted to compliment his match, or just talk wrestling.

You'd stand next to him quietly, hanging off his arm. As you pretended like you were listening to what they were saying. But in actuality you only wanted him all to yourself. Biding your time until you could pull him away.

He would look down at you briefly, only barely cocking his eyebrow up, like he could sense your need for attention. To which he would try to cut the conversation short. Because he loved to give it.

Finally after that happened a few more times. You broke free and made it to an empty area. He pulled you to the side leaning against the wall as you just made small talk. Like you both were so good at.

But only with each other.

Still you couldn’t ignore how good he looked. His skin still glistened partly from the sweat. Mostly from the lingering baby oil. His cheeks were just barely pink from the physical exertion. You didn’t even know what he was saying at this point.

Something about how he messed up, a ddt or was it a suplex? Normally you would, but right now you didn’t really care. Selfishly relishing in his overwhelming attractiveness.

As he still spoke, you slowly pull out your phone snickering to yourself, as you open the camera. He rambled on, in his usual deep, husky voice. Until he noticed what you were doing. Your hands now outstretched in front of you, phone right in between the two of you.

You step back, and start snapping pics, to savor the moment. Clicking away as he modestly stood in front of you, arms crossing. A stark contrast from his usual arrogant persona.

You stop tapping, camera still raised in front of you, when you look around it. Giving him an annoyed stare that he wouldn’t cooperate as he stood there awkwardly. Even though you did just totally interrupt his talking.

He realized what you were doing, and scoffed, laughing at your boldness.

“You are somethin else you know that?” He said as he tried to grab at your hips from behind the camera. You eye him down knowingly.

“Babe cmonnn” you whined

“You just look so hot right let me take your picture.”

He scoffed again.

“I’m all gross and sweaty.” He said looking down at himself.

Now, like earlier you were the one cocking your eyebrow. He was anything, it was the opposite of gross.

Sweaty, maybe

“Just humor me.” You said smile creepy across your face.

He placed each hand on each of his hips now, staring at you with his normal attitude. That was more like him.

He stepped back and posed, you could tell he was definitely channeling his inner “viper”. Posing with that same attitude, just for you.

Your smile grew even bigger, your cheeks started to burn.

“Yesss! Much better!” you start gassing him up from behind the phone. The click sound, filling the empty walkway.

“I can’t believe I get to take you home.” You giggled.

You were no better than a man at this point. Ogling at your muscular boyfriend.

He smiled, quickly falling away from his mean exterior. You watched through the screen as he grabbed at your phone now. Pulling it down in your hand.

“Alright alright shows over.”

“Why don’t you take me home?” He joked, slinging his arm around your waist.

“Gladly.” You looked up, sweetly placing a quick peck to his lips.

You couldn’t wait to go home and post it, only to brag that he was yours.

[cyb3rthoughts]

[cyb3rthoughts]

If shit's getting bad Seth's always gonna take it upon himself to make things 10 times worse.

[cyb3rthoughts]

Jeff Hardy 💜

[cyb3rthoughts]

priorities.