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diablasuenos · 9 days ago

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soft spot. damian priest.

damian priest x single mother!reader

synopsis: when you, a single mom join the smackdown roster, you are ready to fight both for your career and your child. damian priest isn’t known for his warmth, but the moment your kid starts following him around backstage, something in him shifts. he didn’t mean to care. he didn’t mean to fall.

but some families find you when you least expect it.

faceclaim: jenna dewan

wrestlingupdates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 45,682 others

wrestlingupdates: y'all already know that i'm so excited. y/n y/ln has been drafted to smackdown and i can't wait to see what my favourite girl gets up to on the main roster.

view all 4,586 comments

user1: i am so excited for content of cleo causing chaos behind the scenes

user2: i have been a fan of y/n since she started in tna, twenty years later she is finally getting the recognition she deserves

user3: that's my girl

user4: OMG IT IS FINALLY happening

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you’d gotten used to new locker rooms.

ring lights changed, logos swapped out, but the feeling always stayed the same, a twist low in your stomach, like your body hadn’t caught up with your brain. you’d stood under banners that read impact, aew, nxt, and now, finally, the unmistakable blue and white of smackdown.

your daughter cleo clutched your hand tighter than usual, her fingers curled into your palm. she was six, impossibly curious and maddeningly fearless, until it came to loud arenas and unfamiliar faces. you knelt beside her in the hallway, brushing a curl away from her cheek.

"remember what we said?", you asked softly.

she nodded, eyes wide. "no running. no yelling. no getting suplexed."

you smiled despite the nerves. "good girl."

there were wrestlers moving past you, some familiar from nxt call-ups, others legends you'd only brushed shoulders with at cross-promotional events. a few gave you polite nods. a couple of the women smiled at cleo. no one stopped.

a pa pointed you toward your locker room. it was smaller than you expected but clean. functional. you dropped your duffel bag and helped cleo settle onto the little folding chair beside your things, handing her a snack and her tablet.

"stay here, okay? i’m going to go check the board and find my producer."

she pouted. "can’t i come?"

you hesitated. the hallway would be full of people. "five minutes. don’t move."

you didn’t like leaving her, but you didn’t have a choice. you didn't want to overwhelm her, or yourself

the rundown board wasn’t far. you scanned the paper tacked to the cork, finding your name buried in the second hour, promo segment. no match yet. safe start.

you turned back.

cleo was gone.

your heart slammed into your ribs.

you pivoted fast, eyes darting down the hallway, nothing. the crowd around the gorilla position blurred as your adrenaline surged. you took a step forward.

then froze.

there she was, about thirty feet down the corridor, standing in front of someone tall, imposing, and completely draped in black.

damian priest.

you recognized him instantly, taller in person, every inch the brooding solo act he’d become post the judgment day. hair slicked back, leather jacket gleaming under the fluorescents. he looked down at cleo, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

cleo pointed at his boots. "you look like a vampire."

for a split second, you thought he’d ignore her.

then his mouth twitched. just barely. "maybe i am."

you moved quickly, heart still pounding. "cleo", you said, a bit more sharply than you meant to. she turned, grinning.

"mom! he’s huge."

"i see that", you breathed, placing a hand on her shoulder. you looked up at damian. "sorry. she tends to wander when i blink."

he looked at you then. something passed through his expression. not judgment. not even amusement.

recognition.

"it’s fine", he said simply. his voice was low, calm. "she’s not bothering me."

you blinked. "still, i should’ve... thank you."

he nodded once, then walked past you both, disappearing down the hall without another word.

cleo tugged at your hand. "he’s cool."

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "yeah", you murmured. "he really is."

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y/ninsta posted a story

written: if anyone is wondering why i showed up last night wearing a dress it was because miss cleo needed us to match

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the second week felt less like walking into a storm and more like stepping into a tide you were starting to understand.

no one looked twice when you passed catering this time. a few nodded. bayley threw you a quick wink. you didn’t stop. you had your gear bag slung over one shoulder and just enough caffeine in your system to fake confidence if needed.

cleo was safe. that mattered most.

she’d cried a little when you dropped her off with the wwe childcare team, new toys, kind staff, still too many strangers. but she was in good hands. better than last week, where she’d nearly walked into the lions den.

speaking of…

you rounded a corner and nearly walked straight into him.

he caught the strap of your bag before it could slide off your shoulder, steadying it like it was nothing. like you were nothing to worry about either.

"hey", he said.

you blinked up at him. "hi. sorry. i didn’t see you."

he let go of the strap and leaned back against the wall, arms folded. Same as last week. dark clothes, focused expression. less intimidating now, but only just.

"no cleo today?" he asked.

you raised an eyebrow. "you remembered her name."

he shrugged. "she made an impression."

you gave a short laugh. "yeah, she tends to do that. She’s with childcare this week. probably convincing someone to let her run a match or eat five granola bars in a row."

a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. it was quick. almost shy.

"you okay with that?" he asked.

the question caught you off guard. not how’s your kid, but how are you handling this?

you hesitated. "i guess i have to be."

he nodded, not pressing. just listening.

you sighed. "she’s great. adjusting fast, better than me half the time. but i still feel like i’ve got one foot in the ring and the other one stuck in a daycare cubby. not exactly the image you want when you're trying to prove yourself."

he tilted his head. "image doesn’t win matches. hunger does."

you looked at him. he said it like he’d lived it. like he still was.

"you always talk like that?", you asked, half a tease.

he smirked. "only when i mean it."

you paused, then leaned next to him against the wall. not touching. just closer.

"you’ve been on top of this brand for months", you said. "so what are you still hungry for?"

for a moment, you weren’t sure he was going to answer. his gaze drifted to a production cart nearby, like something just offstage had taken root in his head.

"quiet", he said finally. "something real."

you turned to him, brows furrowed.

"wrestling’s loud", he added. "noise. hype. people cheering for who they think you are. i like when someone sees through that."

you weren’t sure what to say. but the silence between you didn’t feel awkward.

it felt safe.

you watched as he pushed off the wall, giving you one last look before heading down the corridor.

"tell cleo i said hi", he said, voice quieter now.

you nodded. "i will."

and for the first time since your call-up, you didn’t feel like you were walking into the spotlight alone.

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the hotel room was small, but clean. two beds, dim lamplight, the low hum of some animated show playing on the tablet.

cleo sat cross-legged on the comforter, still wearing the glittery blue hoodie you’d packed for her in case she got cold. she had a juice box in one hand and was absently brushing her doll’s hair with the other.

you sat at the edge of the opposite bed, unlacing your boots one slow loop at a time. your body ached in all the familiar ways, tight knees, stiff shoulders but your heart that was quieter tonight.

cleo looked up suddenly. "mommy?"

"hmm?"

"did you see my friend at work today?"

you froze.

you didn’t need to ask who she meant. there was only one person she’d fixated on enough to give that title to. not rey mysterio, not liv, not even charlotte. damian.

you swallowed a smile. "i did, yeah."

her eyes lit up. "what was he doing?"

"standing around looking serious. you know. like always"

she giggled. "he’s so big. but he doesn’t scare me."

"i noticed."

you crossed the room and knelt next to her bed, brushing the juice-sticky hair back from her forehead. she yawned, blinked slowly.

"he asked about you", you said softly.

her whole face lit up. "he did?!"

"hhm. said to tell you hi."

She tucked her doll under the blanket like it was the most important thing in the world, then looked up at you with sleepy seriousness. "he’s nice. he seems a little sad though"

you paused.

"yeah", you murmured. "he kind of does."

"maybe he needs a hug."

your throat tightened unexpectedly.

you kissed her forehead. "you’re something else, kiddo."

she grinned, proud.

a few minutes later, she was asleep, small limbs curled, hair sticking out in every direction. you turned off the lamp, sat in the dark for a long time, scrolling through match footage on your phone.

but your mind wasn’t on wristlocks or crowd reactions.

it was on a man with shadows behind his smile, and the way your daughter had looked at him like she already knew he was safe.

you weren’t sure what was happening yet.

but it was starting to feel like more than just coincidence.

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damian wasn’t sure what made him do it.

one second he was walking past the crew hallway, the next he was crouched in front of a wide-eyed little girl in sparkly sneakers and a ponytail, whispering: "want to see your mom’s match?"

cleo didn’t hesitate. she just grinned and nodded like it was the best idea anyone had ever had.

it probably wasn’t.

he knew talent weren’t supposed to pull kids from daycare mid-show. knew security would ask questions if they spotted him dragging a six-year-old through the maze of cables and crates near gorilla. but when cleo slipped her small hand into his without a second thought, it was already done.

now she sat beside him in a folding chair behind the curtain, her legs swinging, her eyes locked on the monitor.

"is this where she comes out?" she whispered.

he nodded. "any second now."

cleo squirmed with excitement, holding a small bag of dinosaur-shaped gummies, he'd grabbed them from his own stash. he told himself it was just a kindness. something small. nothing more.

but then your music hit.

and cleo lit up like the fourth of july.

"there she is!" she squealed, pointing at the screen. "that’s my mommy!"

damian smiled, small, private. he watched as you stepped into the light for the first time under that enormous main roster stage.

no nerves on your face. just fire.

and something else. something determined.

he didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until cleo tugged his sleeve. "she’s gonna win, right?"

he nodded. "i’d bet on it."

and when your match started, he didn’t look away once.

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you didn’t have time to be nervous. this week was your first real match on smackdown, it was even more daunting considering seasoned pro naomi was your competition.

your music was already queued. your wrists were taped. the production team was shouting cues and pushing talent past you toward Gorilla.

it wasn’t your first match, not by a long shot. you’d bled under different banners, fought in cages, flipped off balconies. but this one felt heavier. brighter. more visible. it was the first time under the big lights with wwe’s main roster eyes all on you.

your heart pounded like a drumline in your chest. not from fear.

just pressure.

you glanced toward the tunnel, looking for someone, anyone familiar but the spot was crowded. and cleo she was supposed to be far from here, in childcare on the other side of the building.

at least she was safe. that was all that mattered.

you rolled your shoulders, focused forward.

then the match producer tapped you. "you’re up. good luck."

you exhaled and stepped into the curtain.

and the crowd roared.

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you didn’t hear everything after that.

the match moved in flashes. you remembered the pop when your name was announced. the sound of boots on canvas. the thud of your finisher landing clean. the heat from the lights. the way you breathed harder than usual, not from cardio, but from emotion that had no place in the ring but showed up anyway.

and then, three slaps on the mat.

your theme hit.

you’d won.

just like that.

you stood in the centre of the ring, arm raised, chest heaving, and scanned the crowd almost by instinct. you didn’t know what you were looking for

until you saw them.

tucked behind the timekeeper’s area, down low by the barricade where the cameras wouldn’t catch them unless they looked hard

cleo.

perched on someone’s lap, wearing her sparkly hoodie, waving both hands in the air like she was trying to call down lightning.

and behind her?

damian.

hat pulled low, hoodie up, clearly trying not to draw attention. but his eyes were unmistakable. focused entirely on you.

he gave you a slow, subtle nod.

not for the cameras. not for the roster.

for you.

you almost missed your cue to leave the ring.

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later, when the show wrapped and the adrenaline faded, you found them both in the hallway near your locker room. cleo ran toward you the second she spotted you, arms outstretched.

"you did it!" she yelled. "you beat her so fast! and you flipped! and he let me sit in the chair with the headphones but i didn’t touch anything!"

you caught her in your arms, burying your face in her hair. "wait, what?"

cleo turned and pointed dramatically at damian. "he broke me out! like a ninja!"

you stared at him.

he looked almost guilty. almost.

"before you get mad", he said, hands up in mock surrender, "she asked nicely."

you just looked at him, speechless for a beat. "you snuck her out."

"she missed you", he said softly. "and i thought she’d want to see you win."

your heart stuttered.

and then melted.

You looked down at cleo. "did you have fun?"

"best day ever."

you looked back up at him. "you know this means she’s going to ask for this every week, right?"

he smirked. "guess i'll have to start showing up early."

you didn’t say anything else. you couldn’t, really, not with your throat tightening the way it was. so instead, you smiled.

a real one.

and somewhere inside you, something warm and dangerous started to settle in.

because this? this was starting to feel like something you might not want to walk away from.

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the hotel room was dark, save for the faint blue glow of the tv. some mindless rerun played without sound, but he wasn’t watching.

damian sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between his knees, still half in his gear. he hadn’t bothered to take off his boots. Just the hoodie. the adrenaline had worn off hours ago, but something else hadn’t.

he could still hear her laugh. the kid.

cleo.

she’d sat on his lap like it was nothing. like she’d known him forever. no hesitation. no fear. she’d asked him how he got his hair so shiny and whether or not he’d ever wrestled a dinosaur. she’d called the match like a pint-sized commentator, whisper-shouting into the headset when her mom hit the finisher.

and when the match ended, she’d clapped so hard he thought she might break her hands.

damian hadn’t smiled like that in a long time.

he’d told himself it was just a gesture. something nice. a favor. maybe a small rebellion against the usual rules.

but that wasn’t true.

the truth was he wanted to see you win.

not just the match.

he wanted to see you find your place here. to be seen, the way you deserved to be, not just as "new call-up" or "former AEW star" or "the one with the kid." he’d watched the roster underestimate you for weeks. he knew the look. he’d lived it himself when he started.

but tonight, they couldn’t deny you.

not after that pop.

not after that finish.

and watching you walk up the ramp, shoulders squared, chin high, eyes scanning the crowd he’d felt something settle low in his chest. not nerves. not pride.

something quieter.

more dangerous.

damian sighed and leaned back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

this wasn’t just about admiration anymore.

it was becoming personal.

and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

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you didn’t sleep deeply that night.

cleo curled into your side, one small foot lodged beneath your ribs. the hotel ac rattled faintly, and your back still ached from the match. But that wasn’t what kept you up.

it was him.

damian.

you kept replaying the moment you saw them down by the barricade. the way he’d looked at you, silent but so present. no big gesture. no smirk. just solid. like someone you could fall into and not hit the ground.

it was a ridiculous thought.

this business didn’t allow softness. or time. or relationships that lasted longer than the next tour loop.

but then there was cleo, asleep beside you, mumbling his name in her dreams.

you weren’t sure what was happening.

but it felt like the kind of thing that didn’t stop easily once it started.

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wwe posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: y/n has arrived ahead of her first ple, the elimination chamber where she has a tag match with tiffany stratton against nia jax and candace larae

wwe posted a story tagging archerofinfamy and rhearipley_wwe

written: the terror twins have been reunited for the first time since damian priest left raw during the transfer window

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finally being back with damian rhea felt like she had missed a whole season of damian's life.

she noticed it before she even made it to catering.

damian, leaning against a stack of production crates, arms crossed, pretending to scroll his phone.

you, sitting cross-legged on the floor with cleo in front of you, helping her colour a foam championship belt from the merch table like it was the most serious thing in the world.

cleo asked something. you smiled, laughed, pushed her curls out of her face.

and damian?

that man didn’t so much as blink, but everything in his posture said, locked in.

rhea smirked.

she detoured straight toward him.

"let me guess", she said, stopping beside him. "you're just coincidentally standing here. middle of traffic. next to this specific hallway."

damian didn’t look up. "it’s not like that."

"right", rhea drawled. "it’s not like anything. you just ‘happened’ to wander near the girl you’ve been brooding over for the last three shows while her kid paints glitter on a fake belt."

he glanced over. "you done?"

"nope." she leaned on the crate beside him, arms folded. "she’s cool. you like her. cleo loves you. you’re literally the only person on this brand that kid listens to. this whole soft-parent-energy thing is actually very cute. so what’s the holdup?"

damian exhaled, jaw flexing. "it’s not that simple."

rhea tilted her head. "why not?"

"because she’s new. and talented. and already has enough to prove without everyone whispering that she’s sleeping her way up the roster. because she’s got a kid and i’m..."

he stopped. didn’t finish.

rhea watched him for a moment, the edge softening slightly in her expression. "because you’re scared."

he didn’t deny it.

"look", she said, voice quieter, "i'm not saying get down on one knee and propose tomorrow. but you’re already halfway in. the kid adores you. she clearly feels something. you showing up? that means something."

he shook his head slightly. "i don’t want to mess it up."

"then don’t." she nudged his shoulder. "tell her. before someone else does."

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later that evening, following the elimination chamber cleo had passed out on a row of production cases, mouth slightly open, marker still clutched in her fist.

you were half-watching the monitor rewatching your match, the rest of your brain stuck in that foggy space between exhaustion and gratitude.

and then damian sat down next to you.

quiet. no preamble. close enough to feel the warmth of him but not enough to press.

"hey", you said.

"hey."

you both watched the screen for a beat.

then, without looking at you, he asked, voice low "if i said i wanted to take you out sometime what would you say?"

you blinked. looked at him, really looked.

"i’d say" you paused, smiling softly, "it’s about time."

and for the first time since you’d met him

he smiled back.

fully.

openly.

like something had finally been decided.

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one week into dating damian

cleo had a habit of crawling out of bed before you and wandering straight into whatever hotel room was across the hall, usually damian’s.

one morning you woke to an empty bed, slipped on your hoodie, and crossed the hall barefoot, fully ready to scold her.

but when you pushed open his door, you froze.

there she was, knees tucked under her, balancing on the edge of his bed with a tablet in hand, while damian sat beside her cross-legged, head tilted, listening intently.

"okay", cleo said, very seriously, "this one’s a therizinosaurus" , her pronunciation of the word was terribly wrong but utterly adorable. "it had really long claws and was a herbivore, but also terrifying."

damian nodded. "that’s actually a great name for a finisher."

you blinked. "are you guys naming moves after dinosaurs?"

he looked up. "only the deadliest ones."

cleo grinned. "we already picked one that is yours momma. wanna know what it’s called?"

you couldn’t say no.

and you didn’t want to.

archerofinfamy posted a story

written: tired on pretending dinosaurs aren't cool as hell

wwe posted a story tagging archerofinfamy

written: damian priest just debuted a terrifying new move that is calling the spinosaurus ddt

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three weeks into dating damian

you had a big match, one you wanted cleo to watch.

damian had been eager to be the one to watch her.

he sat at gorilla, watching you from behind the curtain. not in a possessive way. just proud. like watching the moment before lightning struck.

cleo stood beside him with a headset way too big for her head, shovelling gummy sweets into her mouth, free hand holding his wrist tape like it was treasure.

"do you think she’s nervous?" she whispered.

"no", he said, eyes still forward. "she’s ready."

he meant it. but he also meant: you always are. that’s who you are.

cleo giggled and held up the tape. "can i wear it?"

"only if you promise to cheer loud."

she nodded like it was a blood oath.

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a month into dating damian

cleo was sick.

nothing major, just a fever and exhaustion, but it hit hard after travel day, and she clung to you like gravity. you were supposed to wrestle that night, a solid match with a new push behind it.

but cleo had her arms locked around your neck, flushed and sweaty, and you’d already texted the producer your regrets.

then damian appeared in the doorway.

you started to tell him it was fine. that you had it under control. that you’d ordered Pedialyte and she’d be okay by morning.

he didn’t say anything.

just walked over, sat on the floor beside the bed, and held cleo’s tiny, fever-warm hand until she fell asleep.

later, after everything calmed down, you whispered, "thank you."

he shook his head. "you don’t have to do all of this alone."

and somehow, for the first time in years

you believed it.

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eight weeks into dating damian

you weren’t exactly hiding anymore.

people talked. rumors swirled. a few fans had caught on via glances, hallway sightings, or the time cleo accidentally called him "d" in front of a camera crew.

but you kept it quiet. protected.

not for shame, but for peace.

still, moments slipped through. you brushing glitter off his shoulder. him sneaking you cleo’s favourite snacks in catering. cleo climbing into his lap during a production meeting, chewing on a lanyard, and declaring him her "most bestest backup daddy."

he didn’t correct her.

not even once.

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two months dating damian

you didn’t mean to say it that night.

not in the way people usually plan for those moments. there was no candlelight. no big romantic speech. no music playing in the background. just the hum of the a/c, cleo’s quiet breathing from the second bed, and the weight of his arm draped across your stomach.

damian was half asleep beside you, still in joggers and a thermal shirt. the room smelled like takeout and travel-sized lotion. it was one of those rare nights where you had nowhere to be. just here.

just with him.

you rolled to your side slowly, brushing a piece of hair off his forehead. He looked peaceful like this. less guarded. younger, even.

he stirred at your touch, blinking at you.

"you okay?" he asked, voice low and rough.

you nodded. "yeah. just thinking."

"about what?"

you hesitated, then exhaled.

"how lucky i am", you said quietly. "to have this. to have you. to not be alone in it all anymore."

damian didn’t say anything at first. just brushed your wrist with his thumb, soft and steady.

then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you whispered it, barely above the buzz of the a/c.

"i love you."

silence.

and then

his hand stopped moving.

your breath caught.

he sat up slightly, his eyes finding yours in the dim light.

"you do?", he asked, not teasing. just stunned.

you nodded, nerves bubbling under your skin. "i didn’t mean to say it like that. not all weird and sleepy and-"

"i love you too."

he said it before you could spiral further. no hesitation. just warm certainty.

"i’ve been trying not to say it for weeks", he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "didn’t want to freak you out. or mess this up."

you laughed, quiet and shaking. "you could never."

damian leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, both of you breathing the same small space.

"i love you", he said again. "both of you. it’s not even a question anymore."

across the room, cleo turned in her sleep, murmuring something about "dinosaurs and pancakes."

you smiled.

this wasn’t flashy. it wasn’t loud.

but it was real.

and for the first time in years, love didn’t feel like something you had to fight for.

it just was.

y/ninsta

liked by archerofinfamy, beckylynchwwe, biancabelairwwe and 489,322 others

tagged: archerofinfamy

y/ninsta: just us. some snacks. a few late nights. cooking classes. & a man who carries stickers in his gear bag "just in case."

view all 18,283 comments

archerofinfamy: my girls

beckylynchwwe: i knew it. didn’t even need the detective hat. congrats mama

rhearipley_wwe: i’ve been WAITING. cleo’s the real star here tho, sorry not sorry

user5: the soft launch era is OVER. we are FEEDING

user6: damian "i destroy men for fun and braid toddler hair" priest??? iconic

user7: you went from indie darling to smackdown star to mom of the year with a hot wrestling boyfriend. living the dream fr.

156 notes · View notes

diablasuenos · 16 days ago

Text

how do you want it | damian priest

pairing — damian priest x fem!reader | warnings — smut, 18+, unprotected sexual activity (always use caution when engaging in any sexual activity) minors dni

genre — smut with minor plot | author’s note — inspired by touch me by victoria monet & this lovely request | @stacys-momxx | @eringobragh420

You noticed his hands before anything else. Not his voice, not his smile —but his hands. They were adorned with worn metal rings and scars of the life he used to live. You took note of the way he emphasized his words with his hands — especially when he spoke Spanish, the hint of his Bronx accent colliding with his native tongue — and how they eclipsed the topic of the conversation. He held a tight grip on everything — his luggage, the ring’s ropes, his opponents — and you were no exception.

Even know as you looked at him from across the bar you imagined the feeling of his fingertips coasting hauntingly on your skin, down your spine, and between your legs. You watched the way his skull ring glinted underneath the glowing lights of the bar and wondered if they would send a chill down your body when the coolness of the metal met your throat while he choked you gently.

In perfect world, Damian wouldn’t even be out tonight, no, because in a perfect world he would have never even made it out of the hotel room. In a perfect world, his thick fingers would be inside you while the other hand fisted your hair. In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to down three shots and a cocktail to attempt to ease the tension building up inside simply because you agreed to go out and socialize. In a perfect world you would’ve admitted to your partner that the only thing on your mind for the 24 hours was his hands all over you. But you didn’t live in a perfect one — you lived in a flawed one where your boyfriend was a social butterfly.

Instead of calming your nerves, the alcohol seemingly made you even hungrier, thirstier, hornier than you ever knew yourself to be — emboldened by the liquid courage. You took matters into your own hands and strutted across the bar, placing yourself underneath your boyfriend’s arm where the palm of his hand settled comfortably on your ass. You leaned into the crook of his arm, sipping your drink and relishing underneath his touch, the conversation simply white noise as you focused on the heat that was pooling in the center of your stomach.

“You good, baby?” Damian’s breath caressed your ears as he used a finger to lightly brush your hair off your shoulder. “Need anything?”

“M’good.” You meet his gaze with a soft smile. He pressed a kiss to your temple and zoned back into the discussion. You found it hard to focus with the way his fingertips were drawing tiny circles on your hip bone, each sweep agonizing and icy hot. It was tortuous to be so close to him yet his touch still so far away — what you would give for him to sweep up the bottom of your dress and part your legs with his massive hands and make good use of his ring adorned fingers. It had been too long since you had seen him and although you enjoyed seeing his friends and coworkers too, you were dying to get him to yourself. “I’m going to close our tab.” You subtly said to him in hopes he caught your drift and when his eyes narrowed, you knew that he had.

You were only two steps into the hotel room when you began to fall apart under his touch. He placed one arm underneath your thighs — like the absolute man he was — and lifted you up to carry you through the hotel suite. He swiped away all the junk that accumulated on the dining table and sat you on the edge before stepping between your legs.

“You been eyeing me all night.” He chuckled.

“A girl can’t admire her man?” You blinked lazily as you leaned back onto your hands. “I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Damian dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin softly. His hands trailed up your thighs to push the fabric of your dress around your waist before instinctively pulling at the sliver of fabric that you called a thong.

“Mhm.” You managed. He hooked his pointer finger around the fabric, using it as a guide down to your pussy. His knuckle grazed over your clit, down between your soaking wet lips, and ended at your entrance. He had no intentions of touching you — not yet. Not without making you beg for it.

“Yeah? How much did you miss me?” He asked, his knuckle running up and down your slick folds. You arched your back and tilted your hips forward, hoping and praying to feel him get deeper inside you.

“Enough to consider have you fuck me in the bathroom of the bar.”

“Closed mouths don’t get fed,” Damian said with th a click of his tongue. “You should’ve let me know.” He began peppering kisses on the top of your cleavage. You sighed softly at the feeling of his pillowy lips on your skin. Second best thing about Damian? His mouth and all the little tricks he could do with it. “You know you can get whatever you want, querida.”

“Whatever I want?” You gasped as he trailed his mouth up your cleavage to your clavicle then to your neck and underneath your ear. He suckled on the sensitive skin and smiled when a moan erupted from you. You arched your back and wrapped your legs around him, fighting the urge to have him take you then and there.

“Lo que sea.” (Whatever) He breathed out in Spanish.

“I want you, now.” You admitted.

“How do you want it?” He asked and bit down on the skin he had taken to sucking on. When his eyes finally found your face, your head was thrown back, eyes closed, enjoying every stroke of his knuckle against your pussy. You quivered under his touch and placed a hand underneath his t-shirt, grabbing at his bare skin, wanting him closer. Instead of answering him, you grabbed two of his ring clad fingers that were in your panties and placed it then in your mouth. You pushed them deep into your throat before pulling them out slowly, letting every bit of his fingertips feeling your tongue. You could taste yourself on him and it was so hot you couldn’t even see straight.

“You want my hands, baby?” He asked with a knowing smile, eyeing his now soaking wet fingers. You bit your lip and nodded, desperate for his touch. You shimmied off your panties and he stepped back to admire the view of you on the table, spread wide, like a dreamy midnight snack. “You love when I finger fuck you don’t you?”

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered as he took to stroke you teasingly slow. Your hips bucked up and you found yourself chasing after his touch, wanting to feel him completely encompass you with his hand.

He obliged to your request by sticking a lone, thick, finger inside of you. You gasped at how easily you took him in and he deep inside you he went. He moved his hands in and out of your dripping wet cunt and watched how you soaked his fingers so quickly. He groaned when he swirled your hips to take him deeper, already twitching under his touch. He grabbed your hips with his free hand to hold you place, placing another finger inside you.

You were tight around his fingers but you were in heaven. The wet, sloshy sound of you getting fucked by your man was music to your ears and when he began coaching you through the thickness of his fingers, you damn near fell to pieces.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” He praised you, his forehead dropping down to touch yours. “Takin’ all of me like a good girl.”

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, gasping for breath. His mouth was inches from yours and you were desperately ready for him to give in and kiss you but instead, he kept the distance as he continued talking.

“This is just the beginning,” he told you, “I want that pretty ass bent over the table.”

“Please,” You said. “Oh my god.” Your legs twitched as he hit that one spot just right. You bit your lip and whimpered, telling him you couldn’t take it any more. You were certain your orgasm was going to come crashing down on you at any moment. It had been too long without him and simply being in his presence, let alone being finger fucked by him, was taking you over the edge.

Damian’s hands were off of you and before you could even protest, he grabbed you by the throat and turned you around. He grabbed your hips with both hands and trailed them up your back, placing another finger hand on the lower arch of your back and bending you over. He dropped down to his knees, soaking in the savory sweet smell of your pussy before diving in. His tongue was warm and hot against your clit and once again, your legs twitched in accordance to the way he flicked his tongue. He made quick work of taking off his belt and freeing his thick cock. He was damn near bursting at the seams, pre-cum coating the head of his dick.

Damian’s hands gripped your hips as he aligned himself in you and began fucking you slowly. You rose on your toes and collapsed onto the cool wooden table. You placed your palms on the table, clawing for some type of reprieve as he thrust so deep into you that you felt him in your cervix. The sound of skin on skin filled the hotel room and your whines carried throughout the room and surely into the hallway. You moaned his name shamelessly as he thrusted deeper — he was fucking you like he has an agenda of reminding you of how good he gave it to you. You were dumb founded by the feeling of his hips against your ass and you began throwing it back on him, much to his approval. He guided you back and forth by the grip he held on your hips, surely to leave the skin sensitive and possibly bruised by the night’s end.

“Papi, fuck!” You yelled out, earning a tighter grip on your hips. “Just like that, Damian, fuck.” You tightened around him and felt your legs going weak, your head growing cloudy. You were going to cum all over him.

His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier as he neared the edge. You knew that he was going to orgasm soon, too. You felt your release instantaneously and you collapsed onto the table, slamming your heels down on the floor. Damian hiked one of your legs up and kept going, fucking you harder and faster until he found his own release inside of you. You let out a string of curse words and he filled you up with his cum, some of it dripped down your standing leg. You gasped for your breath and when you finally felt ready to stand on your own two feet, Damian was there to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

“I’m just gettin’ started,” He exclaimed as he carried you to the bedroom to continue his night’s mission.

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diablasuenos · 16 days ago

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closer. damien priest. smau.

damian priest x fwb!reader

synopsis: you told yourself it was just sex. damian priest was everything you weren’t supposed to want, too tall, too intense, too dangerous with the way he looked at you like he owned you. the deal was simple: no strings, no sleepovers, no catching feelings. but rules like that were made to be broken, and somewhere between the 3am texts and the bruises he left on your thighs, it stopped being casual. he said you weren’t his. but he acted like you were. but finally you are forced to express how you really feel.

faceclaim: teyana taylor

warnings: mature content.

angel's playlist

y/ninsta posted a story

written: candid baby

archerofinfamy replied to this story: is that my shirt?

y/ninsta: looks better on me

archerofinfamy: i ain't arguing with that

archerofinfamy posted a story

written: still from last night

y/ninsta replied to this story: fuck me

archerofinfamy: i'll be over tonight

y/ninsta posted a story tagging y/friend

written: missed this

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written: damian priest spotted in a club last night

y/ninsta posted a story

written: unbothered

archerofinfamy replied to this story: you really gonna ignore me all day and then post a pic like this

y/ninsta: exactly

archerofinfamy: let me come over

y/ninsta: ask the girl from last night

archerofinfamy posted a story

written: you can't ignore me forever

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you hadn’t heard from damian in days. not a text. not a half-assed "you up?", or one of his possessive, cryptic messages. not until tonight. now he was knocking, no, pounding, on your apartment door like he had the right to.

you ignored him at first. he deserved that much.

"open the door", his voice called through the wood, rough and low. "please."

you didn’t move.

"i’m not leaving", he warned, voice rising just enough to let you know he was serious. "so unless you want your neighbours hearing everything i’m about to say"

that made you exhale, frustrated and curious in equal measure. you opened the door, just enough to see him. black hoodie, tired eyes, and that same heavy tension in his jaw that always meant he was trying not to feel something. he looked like hell. good. you hoped he did.

"you’ve got some nerve showing up here", you said flatly.

"i know." his voice cracked slightly. "i fucked up."

you didn’t say anything, just crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"it wasn’t what it looked like", he said quickly. "i didn’t touch her. She leaned in. the cameras made it look worse"

"i don’t care", you cut in. "do what you want, right? that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? no strings. no feelings. no reason for me to care where your hands are when they’re not on me."

that landed like a punch. his brows drew together. His mouth opened, but no words came out at first. then he stepped forward, into your space.

"you stopped answering me", he said, quieter this time. "i haven’t slept. i haven’t thought straight. you think this is just sex for me? i haven’t touched anyone else since the night i met you. i can’t. i don’t want to."

you stared at him, heart pounding.

"then what is it, damian?" you asked. "because i’ve been trying to convince myself this doesn’t mean anything, and it’s starting to feel like a lie."

he exhaled, eyes dropping to the floor like it hurt to admit what came next.

"it’s you", he said. "it’s always you. you drive me insane. i want you all the time. i hate that i don’t know where you are or who you’re with. when i saw that guy on your page, i lost it. but i don’t get to be jealous when i'm not man enough to admit i’m already all in."

you said nothing. just stared at him like he’d grown another head. and maybe he had, because this wasn’t the damian priest who said he didn’t do feelings. this wasn’t the version who left after sex without a goodbye. this was someone breaking open in front of you.

"i want more", he said, stepping closer. "i want all of it. you. no one else. i’m done pretending it’s a game."

you didn’t realise you were shaking until you reached for him.

"shut up", you muttered, grabbing the front of his hoodie and yanking him inside. the door slammed behind him, and before either of you could say another word, his mouth was on yours.

it wasn’t soft. it wasn’t gentle. it was desperation and apology, possession and pain. his hands were in your hair, your back, your hips, like he was trying to memorize you, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. you clawed at his hoodie until it came off, dragging your nails down his back, punishing him for every day you spent angry, confused, wanting him.

"you’re mine", he growled against your mouth. "you hear me? say it."

"you’re not allowed to say that", you gasped, lips swollen, breath ragged. "you don’t get to be jealous and disappear"

he picked you up like you weighed nothing, carried you through the apartment without missing a beat.

"too late" he said.

he laid you out like you were something holy and then ruined you like you weren’t. over and over. with his hands. his mouth. his voice in your ear, whispering everything he wasn’t supposed to feel.

and when you were wrecked, breathless, trembling in the dark, you felt him kiss the inside of your wrist.

"mine", he said again. quieter this time.

and this time, you didn’t argue.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the morning after felt like something neither of you wanted to break.

sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting lazy lines across the sheets tangled around your legs. damian's arm was slung across your waist, heavy and possessive even in sleep, his chest rising and falling against your back in a steady rhythm. you weren’t sure how long you’d been awake, but you didn’t move, not yet. not when his fingertips were brushing soft circles just under the hem of your shirt like he was still touching you in his dreams.

you shifted slightly, and he pulled you closer, burying his face in the curve of your neck with a sleepy groan. his voice, rough and low, vibrated against your skin.

"where you goin’?" he mumbled.

"nowhere", you whispered. "just breathing."

he kissed your shoulder lazily, his lips warm and soft. "good. stay here. i’m not done with you yet."

you smiled into the pillow. "we’ve already gone three rounds, big man."

he chuckled, slow and satisfied. "still not done."

you rolled over to face him, and for a second, neither of you said anything. You just looked. His hair was a mess. he had pillow creases on his cheek. his eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, no bravado, no heat, just this quiet awe like he couldn’t believe you were real.

"you’re staring", you teased.

"can’t help it.", his thumb brushed your bottom lip. "you’re pretty when you’re not yelling at me."

you laughed and smacked his chest lightly. "don’t get used to it."

he caught your wrist before you could pull away and kissed the inside of it, the same spot he’d whispered mine the night before. "i won’t. but I’m not messing this up again."

you felt your chest tighten. you hadn’t talked about what this was now, hadn’t put a label on anything, but you could feel it. the shift. the way his touch felt like a promise now instead of a placeholder.

"i missed you", you admitted quietly, eyes falling to the space between you.

he lifted your chin. "i was a dick. i know that. but i missed you more. and i’m here now. not going anywhere unless you tell me to."

you didn’t.

instead, you leaned in and kissed him, soft, slow, like you were learning him all over again. his hand slipped under your shirt, palm splaying across your stomach.

"you keep kissing me like that", he murmured, voice husky, "and i’m gonna be late to training."

you smiled against his mouth. "call in sick."

his grin was crooked, lazy, and a little dangerous. "you’re gonna ruin me, you know that?"

"already did", you whispered.

and you stayed in bed a little longer.

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archerofinfamy posted a story

written: i always get what's mine

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diablasuenos · 22 days ago

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worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

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diablasuenos · 28 days ago

Text

got my outfit for the Cowboy Carter tour & im so so excited

#anyone else going?!

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diablasuenos · 29 days ago

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run for the hills | karrion kross

pairing — karrion kross x fem!reader | genre —angst, fluff, flirty | authors note — this is for my girl, @onlyangel4 who always listens to my silly little fic ideas & encourages me to write

hotels, late nights, hands through my hair. long talks, red eyes, clothes everywhere. missing a moment when you're still there, you gotta thing you can't find nowhere.

Time stood still as the arena erupted in song, singing his praises and bellowing for more - you were rooted in your spot, unable to process the moment unfolding in front of you.

His walk was powerful, his stance unwavering and as you stood in the ring watching him make his way towards you, you wondered if you were about to find yourself in the cross hairs of something that you could never get out of but you also wondered if you even wanted to be freed of him. From the moment you laid your eyes on him you knew that something about him was made for you — you wanted to know him, to feel him, to breathe him in. Even against your own will, your eyes stayed trained on him as he stepped in the ring.

"Oh don't look that way darlin' He ducked underneath the ropes. "Aren't you happy t'see me?"

You knew that he was coming to interrupt your promo but it still struck a nerve when he came face to face with you. Your lips stayed in a thin line as he circled you like a predator sizing up their prey. Despite the thousands of fans in attendance, you felt like the room was filled by you and Karrion only.

"I'm here to make all your dreams come true." He said eerily close to your ears. "Cause you aren't going to get what you're looking for with the likes of the people in the back."

“The likes of who? I roll solo, always have and always will.”

“That’s cause you didn’t have me. See you and me,” He stepped squarely in front of you and his gaze softened as it trailed down to your lips then back up to your curious eyes. “We’re cut from the same cloth - ragged, rough around the edges, too good to be held back. So I’m asking you now — you gonna hold back on me?”

Simultaneously a smile crept across his and your face revealing the same expression, one that was so eerily similar that fans probably thought the whole thing was planned. In actuality, it was the most natural moment you’d had in the ring and you knew you’d be chasing that high for days.

“What the hell was that? When’d they pair you with him?” Your friend, and makeup artist, Lila, asked as soon as you made it backstage. “I mean don’t get me wrong you looked hot as hell but him?”

“What about em?” You felt oddly defensive as she cornered you. You glanced over her shoulder to see a few people glancing in your direction, eyes intrigued and mouths closed trying to see what was unfolding.

“Look — I’m not trying to be in your business but,” She looked behind her then back to you with a sigh, placing a gentle hand on your now crossed arms. “He’s got a bit of a reputation, y’know.”

“No, Lila, I don’t.” You clenched your jaw. She tilted her head back and huffed in annoyance.

“He dated Scarlett forever and I don’t know, I’ve heard a few things.”

“I don’t care about his dating history,” — absolutely were intrigued by it now, knowing he dated a female on the roster — “I care about if he’s got my back when the bell rings.” You pushed past her with one last glance just to find Karrion with his eyes on you, a glimmer of hope lighting them up.

“Listen, all I’m saying is, if it were me, I’d run for the hills.”

One match was all it took to confirm all that you imagined — the crackle of energy between you two was real. The instant loyalty, the understanding, the camaraderie — it was all there the moment you two walked side by side to the ring. When you made it back to guerrilla, Stephanie and Hunter seemed to believe that too.

“That was amazing,” Hunter patted Karrion’s back though the younger man’s eyes were trained on you. “You’ve got yourself something special here.”

“We do.” Karrion agreed and you failed to fight the blush that crept up from the pit of your stomach. Thankfully you were still red and sweaty from the match so if questioned about the silly little blush, you could attribute it to your adrenaline pumping.

“This could be something great — I mean it,” Stephanie beamed with a knowing smile on her face. She could see it unfolding clear as day, the tale as old as time, the one that she herself had played a role in as a young woman in the wrestling world. But she knew what was to come with it: the stares, the whispers, the never ending gossiping of the others on the roster.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” You said softly with a glance to Karrion who was staring at you now.

“I’m here for you,” She narrowed her eyes and shifted them so quickly towards Karrion you wondered if you had imagined it. “For anything.”

“That was something…” Karrion agreed.

You found yourself literally DM’ing your tag partner because up until now, weeks later, you hadn’t had his number. You asked him if he wanted to get dinner at a sketchy little diner late one night and he happily agreed. Now it had become a bit of a habit — arrive together, laugh and eat together, stretch, match, then dinner at a hole-in-the wall diner or bar. You weren’t picky. Any place that was open in the late hours of the night with a decent drink selection was good for you.

“I can’t believe that move actually worked,” You leaned in to sip on the vanilla milkshake — one shake, two straws. Definitely not nutritionist approved by any means but it was a secret you two shared and indulged in after matches, sometimes. “For a second there I didn’t think you were going to catch me.”

“I’d let a hella lotta things happen before I let your pretty little ass hit that mat,” Karrion deadpanned. You rested your back against the booth and laughed. You found yourself laughing with him a lot — whole body laughing, not the tiny one you reserved for your other coworkers.

“Maybe you should stop staring at my ass and focus on the match,” You giggled. The two of you hadn’t won this match because it was a set up for a much bigger match down the road. This feud was a slow-burn and the pay off was going to be monumental.

“First of all, I’m a man of many talents, one of which is multitasking. I only enjoy all your ring gear has to offer when we’re walking down the ramp.”

“Is that why you walk so slowly?”

“And behind you, baby.”

That night when you finally made it back to the hotel you were surprised to find half of the roster dressed up to hit the club. You would usually partake in the activities but as of late, your routine with Karrion was perfect for you. You enjoyed your time with him. When the other group spotted you two, side by side, they quieted down as they walked past and didn’t acknowledge you — especially Lila and Scarlett. For the first time, you felt snubbed. You were rooted in your spot and your eyes trailed her as she brushed past you without a word. The only thing bringing you back to earth was Karrion’s hand on your lower back, asking if you were alright.

“M’good, yeah.”

“Don’t worry about them,” He murmured against your hair and it felt so soft and natural that it didn’t take you by surprise. When he placed a soft kiss on your head all you could do was breathe easier under his touch. “Wanna come to mine? We can watch a movie or whatever girly show you’ve been binging.”

You swatted him away with a laugh but happily let him walk hand in hand with you to his room where you stayed up all night, hands intertwined with one another, laughs seeping through the thin hotel walls. You even managed to fall asleep with his hand playing with your own. And in the morning, he woke you up with a cup of coffee and that damn smile you’d come to like so much and suddenly the snub didn’t mean anything to you anymore. Because he meant everything.

“Soooo, you and Kross,” Lila said with distaste in her voice. She dabbed the press powder under your eyes and you shifted your gaze up to the ceiling. The makeup area was full of other girls who suddenly fell hush over the topic of conversation.

“It’s nothing.” You said in a pleading tone that she ignored.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” She sighed and slammed the brush down, “I told you that he’s —“

“That he’s what, Lila? You haven’t told me one damn thing about the man cause you don’t actually know him.”

Despite the whispers of who he used to be, that wasn’t the Karrion Kross that you knew. You knew him to be gentle, caring, a solid listener and a damn tag partner. He was everything to you.

“You should be runnin for the hills, not runnin into his arms.” She huffed.

They didn’t even know the half of it. The past two months on the road with him had been the hardest but most rewarding experience in your career. He reminded you of who you were, all that you were capable of in the ring. Out of the ring, he was kind and reminded through his actions — bringing you breakfast in the morning on the mornings you wanna sleep in, carrying your bags and gear, spending hours in the ring with you honing your craft, the late nights with him by your side gently rubbing his hands through your hair or holding you close as you watched trashy reality tv, despite him claiming he hated it. When you botched a move and went semi-viral it was Karrion who wiped your tears and told you to hold your head up high.

They didn’t know him. Not like you did.

And you were determined to show them all that you would go to hell and back with him if it meant being by his side.

This time when you stood at the entrance of the ramp, you stood with your feet planted to the floor and your head held high. You scanned the audience before locking eyes with the camera, knowing that Karrion was only a few steps behind. You waited patiently for the pop and his presence behind you — it only took a moment but you just knew he was there. With your eyes locked on the camera, you placed your hand out for him to grab. He interlocked his hand with yours and a smile crept across your face. The audience seemingly grew louder as Karrion brought your hand up to his lips for a small kiss.

Hand in hand, you and Karrion walked down the ring to face another set of opponents but this time, you’d already won because he was by your side.

The match flowed with ease and as he went to tag you in, instead of a slap of hands, he held yours and held the rope down for you to walk into the ring on your own accord. Your opponents rolled their eyes but the crowd ate it up. Every glance at Karrion seemed to be heightened by the fans love of your partnership but little did they know. You loved it, too.

Your ring gear had long been abandoned by your own selfish desires, scattered lazily in your gym bag that was a few rooms over. You were in a T-shirt and shorts when Karrion found you and pulled you into the hallway closet of the arena, his hands finding your hair and his lips finding your own. You moaned into his mouth and grabbed at him greedily as he pushed you against the door. You weren’t certain that you hadn’t whimpered under his touch but you were far too gone to care what noises you made as he touched you.

His hands caressed your skin with a feverish energy, as if he was trying to commit every bit of you to his memory. You were shameless as you wrapped your legs around his midsection when he went to pick you up off the floor. His lips on your neck had you begging for more, begging for more of him all over you.

“You’re trouble,” He groaned when he pulled away.

“You like trouble.” You replied with a heavy chest. He’d taken all the air out of the room and out of you.

“I love trouble.” He corrected and that same smile you’d grown to love, spread across his face.

liked by fanxfan and 67,345 others

wrasslinreport — looks like Y/N and Karrion Kross have something serious going on. fans spotted them heading back to the buses arm and arm after the show tonight — what do you guys think?

fanxfan — oh they fuckin for sure

fanuser — he can’t keep getting away with this

fanuser — ref have a word

wrasslinreport replied — hahahah

ynfan — omg 🥺

—

liked by yn.wrestling, fanxfan, and 54,650 others

tagged: yn.wrestling

karrionkrosswwe — 🫀🕷️

comments on this post have been limited

liked by fanuser, karrionkrosswwe, and 56,345 others

tagged: karrionkrosswwe

yn.wrestling — you & yours vs me & mine

karrionkrosswwe — love you baby

yn.wrestling replied — love you always

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diablasuenos · 1 month ago

Note

Okay first of all, I’m obsessed with the way you write! Keep it up!

Second, can you please write more for Damian? I literally can’t stop thinking about that man since I’ve read your fics. I have a feeling he would be quite territorial and jealous (but not in a controlling way, just in a very very sexy way). So maybe you can explore that a bit? Thanks and byeeeee <3

this is so so so sweet!! yes, I would love to write something like this, I’ll get to work on it

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diablasuenos · 1 month ago

Text

how do you want it | damian priest

pairing — damian priest x fem!reader | warnings — smut, 18+, unprotected sexual activity (always use caution when engaging in any sexual activity) minors dni

genre — smut with minor plot | author’s note — inspired by touch me by victoria monet & this lovely request | @stacys-momxx | @eringobragh420

“You good, baby?” Damian’s breath caressed your ears as he used a finger to lightly brush your hair off your shoulder. “Need anything?”

“You been eyeing me all night.” He chuckled.

“A girl can’t admire her man?” You blinked lazily as you leaned back onto your hands. “I missed you.”

“Enough to consider have you fuck me in the bathroom of the bar.”

“Lo que sea.” (Whatever) He breathed out in Spanish.

“I want you, now.” You admitted.

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered as he took to stroke you teasingly slow. Your hips bucked up and you found yourself chasing after his touch, wanting to feel him completely encompass you with his hand.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” He praised you, his forehead dropping down to touch yours. “Takin’ all of me like a good girl.”

“This is just the beginning,” he told you, “I want that pretty ass bent over the table.”

“I’m just gettin’ started,” He exclaimed as he carried you to the bedroom to continue his night’s mission.

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diablasuenos · 1 month ago

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love the way Damian is down to be in a TikTok. just imagine all the silly trends he would for you

#‘sorry I’m not into short guys’#or ‘she want a big dawg’#or ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind!’#damian priest

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diablasuenos · 1 month ago

Note

Hihihi!!! Can you please write another Grayson Waller x female reader smau where the reader is a streamer who’s also a fan of Grayson, meets him by pure luck, and they eventually become a couple? TYSM in advance!

posted here!! hope you enjoy bb

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diablasuenos · 1 month ago

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shameless | grayson waller

pairing — grayson waller x streamer!podcaster!reader

genre — fluff, social media au | author’s note — this was a request, hope you love it

the podcast

“So before we dive in, we always start the podcast with a confessional….” Alex prompted. You blushed in response, knowing your answer was bound to take quite a few people by surprise.

“Okay, I must confess: I’m obsessed with professional wrestling.”

“Oh my gosh I would have never guessed that!”

“I know buts legitimately like one of my favorite things.”

“Wait so do you have like a wrestler or team you love.”

“Oh my god actually I do! I really love this duo - this faction - called A Town Down Under. Specifically Grayson, ugh, he’s so cute. No but I’m a huge fan and have been since I was a kid. I’m hoping to get tickets to see Wrestlemania this year.”

“Maybe you two could meet!”

“Eh, we’ll see.”

the stream

“Wait, chat, what do you mean ‘he’s joined the chat?’” Comments were flying by quicker than you could read them and you weren’t catching on to them at first.

“Grayson Waller has joined the chat….oh my god!” You buried your face in your hands and fought for your life to not geek out. Of all the ways you could’ve possibly have met him for the first time, it was over a stream after you geeked out about him on a podcast with your friend, Alex. “No he’s not guys, this isn’t funny.”

“No he actually is,” Your assistant replied with evidence from her phone. Surely enough, Grayson Waller joined your stream and had gifted you a subscription. “Say hi.”

“I cannot hahahaha,” You laughed with your head thrown back. “Grayson, what’s up buddy? How are you?”

the posts

y/n posted to their story!

video captions: “Guysssss, someone from WWE literally sent me Grayson’s merch and I’m dying. Look at how cute it is, I mean, this is insane.”

-> reposted from bestie | y/n posted on their story!

caption — help she’s in her merch watching the show @/graysonwallerwwe

graysonwallerwwe replied — that’s my girl

graysonwallerwwe replied — you look good in my stuff

yn replied — you tell all the girls that?

graysonwallerwwe replied — just the pretty ones

—

liked by yn fan, graysonwallerwwe and 6,745 others

yn.jpg — here there a lil bit of everywhere

ynfan— yn the merch lmaoooo

fanxfan — her being an actual wwe fan is cracking me up

graysonwallerwwe — nice shirt liked by author

yn.jpg replied — thanks bestie

fanxfan replied — bestie????

ynfan — wym by that yn 👁️👁️

—

liked by ynfan, graysonwallerwwe and 5,675 others

yn.jpg — girl on film 🎞️ 🫀

graysonwallerwwe — i’m your biggest fan liked by author

yn.jpg replied — stop you’re making me blush

ynfan — cuuuuute

bestie — gorgeous

—

Months later, calls during all hours of the night, falling asleep on the phone with one another and endless text messages — you were officially in love with Grayson Waller. Everything about him was better than you could have imagined. He was a sweet, humble, kind and caring man. You went from being just a fan to being his biggest fan to now, damn near his girlfriend. You’d been able to fly to him once or twice and now the ultimate test lie in front of you — Wrestlemania.

He met you at the airport and you all but crushed him in a hug once you finally got your arms around him. His smile rivaled your own large one and you found yourself giggling like an idiot. He grabbed your bags and your hand and led you on your way, taking you to the arena to soak in all that the weekend had to offer.

yn posted to their story!

—

liked by graysonwallerwwe and 56,456 others

tagged: graysonwallerwwe

yn.jpg — this ain’t stayin’ in Vegas

graysonwallerwwe — my girl

fanxfan — omggggg

fanuser — a town down liked by author

wwefan — what a crossover

randomfan — hell yeah grayson

graysonwallerwwe posted on their story!

captioned — my biggest fan

#wwe fanfiction #wwe #wwe x reader #grayson waller fic #grayson waller x reader #grayson waller #grayson Waller x you #diablasuenos*

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