switchbladekatie

[switchbladekatie]

couldn't make it any harder. bron breakker. smau.

bron breakker x hurt!reader

synopsis: you’ve never believed in soft things. not after the family that broke you, or the relationships that left you feeling smaller every time. in the ring, you’re a lone wolf, guarded, relentless, untouchable. the only person you let in is liv morgan, your chaos twin and emotional anchor. then there’s him. bron breakker. all sharp edges and brute strength on screen, but with eyes that always find you, even when you don’t want to be seen. you never asked him to stay. but he keeps showing up, in the gym, backstage, after your hardest matches, and eventually, in the places you swore no one would ever reach.

faceclaim: adeliene rudolph

angel's playlist

y/ninsta posted a story

written: sunny day off before my match tomorrow

bronbreakker posted a story tagging rollinswwe

written: gyn sesh

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the wwe gym was quiet this late, just how you liked it.

no cameras. no forced conversations. just the sound of your playlist in your headphones and the rhythmic clink of weights meeting the floor. you didn’t care for the small talk or the glances people gave you when they thought you weren’t looking. here, you could disappear.

you were mid-way through your third set, pushing through a heavy barbell press, when you felt your arms tremble, just slightly, but enough to make you pause. you weren’t one to ask for help. you never asked for help. but the bar felt heavier than it should’ve.

before you could consider dropping it and embarrassing yourself, a shadow passed into your peripheral vision. large hands steadied the bar, just enough to let you finish the rep without failing.

"got it?" a deep voice asked above you, calm but present.

you exhaled hard, adrenaline and annoyance flaring at the same time. you hated being caught struggling. you hated being seen struggling. but the bar was already back on the rack, and when you sat up, wiping sweat from your forehead, he was still standing there.

bron breakker.

grey shirt clinging to his frame. face damp. eyes locked on you, but not in the way most guys looked at you. not like you were a prize. more like you were a puzzle he hadn’t figured out yet.

"i didn’t ask for a spot" you said flatly, tugging out one headphone.

"you didn’t have to" he replied with a shrug, not smug, just sincere. "you were about to drop it."

you narrowed your eyes. "i could’ve handled it."

"i know" he said. and the way he said it, genuine, not condescending, caught you off guard.

for a second, neither of you moved. the air hung heavy between you, the thrum of your music still pulsing from one dangling earbud. you waited for him to walk away, or flash that cocky grin everyone seemed to fall for. but he didn’t.

Instead, he asked, "you always train alone?"

"yeah" you said, reaching for your water bottle without looking at him. "easier that way."

he nodded slowly. "maybe. but not always better."

you didn’t respond. just put your headphone back in and turned away like you always did, pushing people back before they got close enough to leave. but even as you started your next set, you could still feel his presence nearby. not overbearing. not intrusive. just... there.

and for reasons you didn’t want to explore, you didn’t mind it.

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wwe posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: y/n y/ln has arrived ahead of her match with roxanne perez

roxanne_wwe posted a story

written: y/n ain't gonna know what hit her

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the match was over, but the sting stayed with you.

roxanne’s hand had been raised. your body still ached, but it wasn’t the pain that shook you, it was the silence in your head after. that echoing voice that whispered "you’re not good enough" louder than any crowd ever had. you’d fought hard. you’d trained harder. and it still wasn’t enough.

you stormed through the corridor, sweat still clinging to your skin, jaw clenched. You didn’t even bother to change gear, you needed to find liv. she was the only person who could cut through the noise. the only one who didn’t sugarcoat, didn’t pity, just got it. got you.

"have you seen liv?" you snapped at someone near catering.

they shook their head. "think she’s in production for a pre-tape."

you swore under your breath, fists clenching at your sides.

your mind started to spiral, replays of the match flooding in. the hesitation in your final move. the second too slow on the reversal. The part of you that always doubted. you could hear your father’s voice in your head, cold and sharp: "you let them beat you again?"

you didn’t realize you were pacing until a voice broke through behind you.

"hey."

You turned too fast, and there he was, bron, still in street clothes, eyes locked on you like he’d been watching for a while.

"now’s not the time, bron" you muttered, brushing past him.

"you sure?" he asked gently.

you stopped. that wasn’t what people said. not the ones who wanted something from you. not the ones who cared more about image than substance.

he stepped closer but didn’t crowd you.

"i saw the match", he said. "i know you probably don’t want to hear anything, but you were good out there."

you scoffed under your breath, biting the inside of your cheek. "good doesn’t win matches."

"neither does perfect. not every time."

you looked up at him, the wall behind your eyes rising fast. "you don’t get it."

"then explain it to me", he said. "i’m not going anywhere."

that silenced you. because he looked serious, not pitying, not placating. serious.

your breath hitched. "i needed this win. i needed it to prove" you stopped yourself.

"to who?" he asked, voice low.

you didn’t answer. because you didn’t want to say: everyone. my family. myself.

bron’s voice cut through the static again. "you think losing one match undoes everything you’ve built?"

you shrugged. "it doesn’t matter what I think. i’m not like liv. or roxanne. or even you. i don’t have people lining up to say, ‘you’ll bounce back.’"

he stepped forward, and for once, you didn’t move back.

"i’m not here because i feel sorry for you", he said. "i’m here because i see someone who fights harder than anyone else in the locker room. someone who’s allowed to lose. just once."

your throat tightened. the burn behind your eyes caught you off guard. you swallowed it down.

"i’m still looking for liv", you whispered, almost as a reflex.

bron nodded. "she’ll come find you. but until then…"

he sat on one of the road crates nearby, looking up at you.

"i’ll sit here with you."

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t sit, either. but you stayed. right there. arms crossed, jaw clenched, breathing uneven. and maybe for the first time, you didn’t feel alone in it.

and maybe... that was enough.

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y/nlover

liked by bronbreakkerwwe, y/ninsta, user1 and 89,283 others

tagged: y/ninsta

y/nlover: we don’t talk about y/n enough tbh. yeah she’s insanely talented, but she’s also been so real with us.

she’s opened up before about how strained her family relationships are. how she’s had to figure everything out on her own since she was young. she’s even talked about being cheated on in literally every relationship she’s been in. and she still shows up, still wrestles like every match is a war, still keeps her circle small because she has to.

idk. just think we should appreciate the quiet strength too. the kind that doesn’t scream for attention but deserves it anyway.

love you always y/ninsta 🤍

view all 4,583 comments

user1: i always forget how much our girl has gone through

user2: if you don't know the y/n lore there is a video on youtube from the beginning of her career that explains everything

y/ninsta: thank you lovlies fans like you guys are the reason i do what i do

user3: why tf has bron breakker liked this

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the hallway was nearly empty, except for the low hum of vending machines and the occasional slam of a locker. liv was tying her hoodie around her waist, getting ready to leave for the night, when she heard footsteps behind her.

"hey", bron said, voice lower than usual.

she turned. "hey. you good?"

he hesitated, not nervous, but thoughtful. like he was choosing his next move carefully, which wasn't usually his style. bron breakker didn’t tiptoe.

"can i ask you something?"

liv raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "sure."

he looked past her for a second, then back. "y/n"

liv’s expression immediately softened. "what about her?"

"i just", he sighed. "i see the way she carries herself. like she’s always bracing for something to go wrong. and after last week i don’t know. i just wanted to check on her, but it feels like there’s always a wall."

liv leaned against the locker, arms folded.

"there is. she's been building that wall for years", she said quietly. "family let her down. every guy she trusted cheated or bailed when things got hard. and now? she’s convinced everyone will leave, so she doesn’t give anyone the chance to prove her wrong."

bron didn’t say anything at first, just nodded, absorbing it.

"she ever let you in?" he asked.

liv gave a small smile. "i'm probably the only one who’s seen the real her. The version that’s terrified she’s not enough. that’s angry at the world but too tired to fight it sometimes. but you..."

he looked up, hopeful but unsure.

liv tilted her head. "you’re different."

"in a good way?" he asked, half-joking.

"in a dangerous way", she said. "because if she lets you in, and you hurt her, even by accident, she won’t recover from that one."

bron's jaw tightened. "i don’t want to hurt her. i want to know her. like, really know her. but i don’t even know if i can get through to her.”

liv looked at him, a mix of warning and belief in her eyes.

"you can", she said. "but it’s not gonna be easy. you have to show up, consistently. even when she pushes you away. especially then."

he nodded slowly. "i can do that."

liv smiled again, this time with a bit of that teasing edge. "then maybe you’re the one who finally gets past the armour."

as she turned to walk away, she added without looking back, "just don’t screw it up. she deserves something real."

and for once, bron didn’t say anything smart. he just stood there, more certain than ever that he wanted to be the person she finally let in.

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y/ninsta posted a story

written: early call times hate to see me coming

yaonlylivvonce replied to this story: i legit just woke up

y/ninsta: i just got to the arena

yaonlylivvonce: i'll be there in like an hour, my bed is calling my name

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you were the first one at the arena.

it was early, too early for anyone to be around unless they were on a mission. you liked it that way, quiet, empty. you could lace your boots without the noise. run through your match in your head. pretend that the world didn’t expect you to smile or break.

you didn’t expect anyone else to be there, let alone him.

you caught the flash of his reflection in the mirror before you saw him walk in. grey hoodie, gym bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds hanging loose around his neck.

bron.

you paused, just for a second, then went back to taping your wrists.

"didn’t think anyone beat me to call time", he said, voice casual.

you didn’t look up. "didn’t know it was a competition."

there was a short pause before he replied. "it’s not."

you expected him to leave. people usually did after you hit them with your blunt edges. but instead, he sat on the bench across from you, a respectful space between. he didn’t speak right away. just unpacked his bag, like being near you wasn’t a challenge to be won, just something that was.

you glanced up. "what are you doing here this early?"

he looked at you, shrugged. "just figured it wouldn’t hurt to warm up early. get focused. and" his voice dipped a little. "make sure you were okay."

you blinked, caught off guard.

"i’m fine", you said, out of reflex. too fast.

he nodded slowly, not calling you on the lie. "alright. just figured i’d be around. in case you needed someone to not talk to."

that got the smallest twitch of a smile from you, which you buried quickly.

silence fell between you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was strange. peaceful. someone sitting beside you and not expecting anything. someone choosing to show up, without fanfare or conditions.

you didn’t know what to do with that.

so you went back to taping your wrists. and he stayed right there, rolling out his shoulder, stretching like it was the most normal thing in the world to share space with someone who didn’t let anyone in.

and somehow, in that moment, you realised something:

he wasn’t trying to break your walls.

he was just waiting for you to open the door.

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y/ninsta posted a story

written: see y'all tonight

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the roar of the crowd still echoed in your chest.

your knuckles were bruised. your chest heaved with every breath. you could still feel the sharp sting of ivy’s hold from earlier, but you’d won. you’d won.

for once, the doubt didn’t swallow you after the bell. for once, you didn’t walk backstage with your head down, bracing for silence. you walked with your chin high, eyes fierce, that tiny flicker of pride burning behind your ribs like fire.

but the second you turned the corner, that fire flickered. because there he was, again.

bron.

leaning against a production crate, arms folded, gear still half on from earlier. he wasn’t smiling, not really. just that look again. The one that said, i see you. i always see you.

your boots slowed.

"ivy’s a beast", he said simply.

you wiped sweat off your brow with a towel. "yeah, well so am i"

he smiled then. small, quiet, warm. "yeah. you are."

silence stretched for a second, long enough for the adrenaline to settle into something softer, something scarier. you looked away, unsure of what to do with the way your heart beat a little faster around him now, not out of fear, but something else.

you didn’t mean to speak. you didn’t plan it. but the words just slipped out before you could stop them.

"you keep showing up."

bron blinked, caught off guard, like he hadn’t expected you to acknowledge it. "yeah."

"why?"

he looked at you for a long moment. his voice was calm, even, like this answer had lived on the edge of his tongue for days.

"because i know what it’s like to be in a room full of people and still feel like no one really sees you", he said. "and i see you."

your chest tightened.

you could’ve made a joke. could’ve deflected, brushed him off like you always did when someone got too close. but instead, you spoke.

"i’ve never had someone do that. not really."

his expression softened. he stepped closer, not enough to crowd you, just enough to be there.

"you do now."

your throat felt tight. your body still buzzed from the match, but it was this, him, that left you shaky. you nodded once, eyes flicking to the floor, then back to his.

"okay", you whispered.

that was it. just a single word. but for you, someone who’d built iron walls and wrapped them in barbed wire, it was everything.

and bron knew it, too.

he didn’t press. didn’t rush. just gave you a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching into the softest grin.

"good", he said.

then he turned and walked with you down the hall, not saying another word.

you didn’t need him to.

for the first time in a long time, silence didn’t feel like loneliness.

it felt like peace.

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you didn’t remind anyone.

you didn’t drop hints or make a post. you didn’t want the fake smiles or the "hope you’re okay" texts from people who hadn’t earned the right to say your name, let alone wish you well. birthdays had never been kind to you. they always seemed to echo what you didn’t have: family, stability, love that stayed.

so you trained. you showed up. you did your job. just like every year.

when liv asked you to swing by her hotel room "real quick", you didn’t think much of it. you expected chaos, maybe a spilled energy drink, maybe a facetime from someone’s dog. what you didn’t expect was to walk in and feel seen.

the lights were low, a playlist humming quietly in the background, songs you didn’t think anyone else even knew you liked. there was your favourite cake on the table, two slices already plated. a small bundle of wildflowers in a short glass. soft lighting. no noise, no crowd.

just liv, grinning from ear to ear and bron, leaning against the windowsill, watching your reaction.

you froze in the doorway, unsure what to say.

liv walked over first, wrapping her arms tightly around you. "don’t yell. just breathe."

you didn’t yell.

you did, however, blink back a sting in your eyes you weren’t ready to name.

"i told you not to do anything", you muttered, voice thinner than usual.

liv pulled back, smiled knowingly. "you tell people not to love you all the time. you think i’m gonna listen now?"

that made you laugh, just barely.

then bron stepped forward, quieter in his approach. He held something in his hand, a folded envelope.

"i didn’t know what to get you", he said. "so i figured i’d say something instead."

he held it out. you didn’t take it right away, too stunned. so he placed it gently on the table beside the cake.

you finally looked at him. really looked.

"you did this?" you asked.

his voice was steady, low. "liv had the plan. i just showed up."

that phrase again. the one he’d kept proving, over and over.

you nodded slowly, throat tight. "i don’t do well with birthdays."

"i know."

"i push people away."

"i know."

"but you came anyway."

bron’s gaze didn’t waver. "always will."

and just like that, the part of you that had stayed locked behind a steel door for years, the part that expected everyone to leave, cracked open.

you stepped closer. not much. Just enough to stand in front of him.

"thank you", you whispered, like the words were too fragile to speak loudly.

he didn’t reach for you. he didn’t need to. he just said, quietly:

"happy birthday, y/n"

and for the first time in a long time, it actually was.

then you opened the letter just letting your eyes glaze over the words, unsure how anyone could care this much.

y/n, i don’t know what a birthday is supposed to mean to someone who’s been let down more times than they’ve been celebrated. but i know what you mean to the people who get the privilege of knowing you, really knowing you. you fight like you’ve got something to prove. you walk like you don’t need anyone. but i've seen what’s behind that. and i just want you to know: i don’t expect you to be anything other than exactly who you are. you don’t have to trust me yet. you don’t have to say everything. but when you’re ready, i’ll be here. not for the good days. for every day. —bron

you hid your reaction to his words but deep down you knew, he knew how much this mattered to you.

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bronbreakkerwwe posted a story tagging yaonlylivvonce. y/ninsta.

written: the best company

yaonlylivvonce posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: happy birthday to my person

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later, after liv had gone and the cake was half-eaten, the room was quiet again.

the kind of quiet that wasn’t empty.

you were sitting on the edge of the bed, notebook in your lap, fingers tracing the corner of the page where his words lived. bron stood by the window, hands in the pockets of his sweats, still pretending he wasn’t watching you.

he was. always was.

"i didn’t know how much i needed this", you said softly, not looking at him. "any of it."

"i figured."

you finally looked up.

"you keep doing that", you murmured. "figuring me out."

bron smiled, the kind that barely touched his mouth but lit up his eyes. "not trying to crack you open. just want to be around long enough that you feel like you don’t have to keep everything buried."

you stood, taking a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

"i don’t usually let people get this close", you admitted. "most of them don’t bother trying."

he met your eyes. "i’m not most people."

and you believed him.

for the first time, fully, you believed him.

you walked toward him, slow but certain, stopping when there was barely a foot between you. close enough to see the way his breath hitched when you looked at him like that, like maybe you weren’t afraid anymore.

"you meant what you wrote?" you asked, barely above a whisper.

his voice was quiet. steady.

"every word."

you didn’t speak again.

you just leaned in.

no hesitation. no asking for permission. just you, pressing your lips to his, slow, soft, a little uncertain. like you were saying thank you with your mouth because your heart hadn’t quite learned the words.

he kissed you back like he’d been waiting, not for the moment, but for you.

when you pulled away, your forehead stayed against his.

And then you finally said it, the words catching in your throat but coming out anyway.

"i want this."

he didn’t ask for clarification. he didn’t need it.

he just nodded, hands settling gently on your waist like you’d always belonged there.

"then you’ve got it."

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y/ninsta

liked by bronbreakkerwwe, yaonlylivvonce, rhearipley_wwe and 422,922 others

tagged: bronbreakkerwwe

y/ninsta: not used to happy things but i guess i make exceptions

view all 7,829 comments

bronbreakkerwwe: my favorite exception.

yaonlylivvonce: SHUT UPPP MY PARENTS ARE THRIVING 😭🖤 (also i took pic #4, you’re welcome.)

user4: THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER IN THE FIRST PIC

user5: they’re the "we’ve been through hell but still chose each other" couple and i LOVE THAT FOR THEM.

user6: i want what they have. but also just want them to adopt me thanks.

[switchbladekatie]

closer. damian 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

wwenews posted a story

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.

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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.

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

archerofinfamy posted a story

written: i always get what's mine

[switchbladekatie]

please please please. la knight. smau

la knight x singer!reader

synopsis: you are a global pop sensation with grammys on your shelf and paparazzi in your rearview. he’s the loud, cocky wwe star whose voice booms louder than most arena speakers. when their worlds collide in a chaotic red carpet moment gone viral, rumors fly and so do the warnings. your team says he's a walking pr nightmare. your fans say he’s going to break your heart. it is up to you to decide whether you are ready to take that risk.

faceclaim rita ora

angel's playlist

y/ninsta posted a story

written: red carpet ready

wwe posted a story tagging reallaknight

written: the megastar la knight has arrived to the debut of raw on netflix

wwe posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: grammy winning y/n y/ln has arrived

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

you weren’t supposed to cause a scene.

the plan was simple: show up, pose for a few photos, wave politely, and leave before any tabloids could pair you with someone new.

you’d even picked the dress for that exact reason, elegant, understated, red satin with a subtle train. just enough to remind people you’re famous, but not enough to start rumours. your team told you it was a "low-impact press night." a quick appearance.

then you heard him.

"hold up"

the voice boomed across the red carpet, louder than the photographers, louder than the mic chatter, louder than the voice in your head telling you to pretend you didn’t hear it.

"they said this was raw, but i didn’t know they meant jaw-droppin’."

you turned. Slowly.

and there he was.

la knight.

sunglasses on (at night, no less), blazer, open collar, and the kind of smug swagger that made women either roll their eyes or lose their minds. he moved like he was walking into a ring, not a premiere.

and for some godforsaken reason, he was heading straight toward you.

cameras followed his every step, and before you could even fake a polite smile, he whipped off his shades like he was in a damn movie and let his eyes drag up and down with zero shame.

"damn. you tryna start a match out here? ‘cause you just bodied this carpet, sweetheart."

a reporter choked. your publicist inhaled sharply behind you. you blinked once, then tilted your head and stared him down like the trained popstar you were.

"and you are?" you asked coolly.

"la knight", he said with a grin, pointing two thumbs at himself. "wwe megastar. master of mic work. future problem for your group chat."

he stepped beside you like you’d invited him, standing just a little too close, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"we’re not doing this", you said, more to yourself than him.

"we already are", he shot back, smiling wider. "question is: am i your next regret, or your next grammy?"

you almost laughed. almost. Instead, you pressed your lips together, glancing at the flashing cameras as he leaned in slightly, just enough to make every photographer on-site hold their breath.

"don’t make me regret this", you murmured.

"baby", he said, voice low and infuriatingly smooth, "you’re gonna write a damn album about me."

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

y/nfan

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 67,829 others

y/nfan: for anyone who has not seen it, y/n is currently trending on twitter. she was at a wwe event when wrestler la knight approached her and started loudly flirting with her and took a few pictures with her. i fear mother always gets herself in these situations.

view all 4,229 comments

user1: i just looked him up. he is cocky, arragant, annoying and handsome so 100% y/n's type

user2: she needs to stay away from sport's people they never do her right

user3: oh god he just looks like bad news

user4: he might as well have red flag written on his forehead. y/n's gonna love him

y/nfan posted a story

written: y/n spotted downtown this morning

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

you showed up ten minutes late on purpose.

not because you were trying to be dramatic, just cautious. the red carpet last night had been a lot. funny, viral, chaotic. and him? He had been a whole performance.

a walking soundbite. la knight in all caps.

so when you stepped onto the quiet patio of the tucked-away café and spotted him already sitting there, alone, hoodie on, sunglasses off, it took you a second to register that this was the same man from last night.

it wasn’t la knight.

it was shaun.

he looked up as you approached, a small, easy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. not cocky. not loud. just warm.

"hey", he said, standing to pull out your chair. "you came."

"you sound surprised", you replied, raising an eyebrow as you slid into the seat.

"a little", he admitted. "figured you’d come just to throw your drink in my face. or write a diss track."

you smirked. "too early in the album cycle for heartbreak songs."

he laughed, a real laugh. no bravado, no crowd. just him. the waitress came by, and instead of ordering something ridiculous or over-the-top, he asked for black coffee and an omelette. you ordered tea.

and for a moment, it was quiet. comfortable.

"so", you said eventually, folding your arms. "where’s the guy from last night?"

he shrugged like it was nothing. "left him at the arena. this is me. shaun."

you blinked.

"that’s mildly terrifying. like seeing batman in gym clothes."

that made him laugh again, louder this time. his whole face lit up, and it softened something in your chest you hadn’t realised was tense.

"you get used to it", he said. "the yelling, the swagger, that’s work. it’s all part of the brand. but i figured if i invited you to lunch as him, you wouldn’t show."

"you’re probably right."

there was a pause, not awkward, just thoughtful.

"i’m glad you invited me as you", you added.

from there, things shifted. the conversation melted into something easy. you talked about tour life and creative ruts. he told you about small-town indie shows he used to wrestle at, and the time he drove six hours in the middle of the night just to make a tryout. you told him about the worst song you ever wrote, and how your label loved it anyway.

he listened. really listened.

and when the check came and you both reached for it, he looked at you with something softer than a smirk, something sincere.

"i know i came in hot", he said, voice a little lower. "but i wasn’t kidding last night. i meant what i said. i want to prove them all wrong."

"prove who wrong?" you asked.

he looked down for a second, then back at you.

"everyone who thinks i'm just a gimmick. everyone who thinks i don’t stand a chance with a woman like you."

you paused. then said, more gently than expected, "you don’t have to prove anything to me. just prove them wrong. just be this version of you."

"shaun?"

you nodded. "yeah. shaun’s kinda great."

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

y/nupdates

liked by user5, user6, user7 and 87,637 others

y/nupdates: it is pretty obvious that y/n is dating wwe star la knight (shaun ricker) in the past five months they have been spotted together multiple times a week

view all 6723 comments

user5: i'm so worried he is going to break her heart

user6: he isn't right for her, he is so annoying on wwe

user7: you are aware he is playing a character right?

user8: as long as she is happy i am

y/ninsta posted a story

written: y'all ain't ready

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

you got home just after seven, your hair still damp from the studio shower and your voice a little raw from the last few takes.

the house smelled like takeout, thai, probably. he always ordered extra spring rolls without asking. you kicked off your boots at the door and followed the sound of some random documentary playing low in the living room.

shaun was sprawled on the couch in sweatpants and a tee, hair slightly messy, a container of noodles balanced dangerously on his chest.

when he saw you, his face lit up. that same unfiltered smile that still made your stomach flip, even five months in.

"hey, superstar", he said, sitting up. "you survive vocal hell?"

"barely." you dropped your bag by the stairs. "but i finished it."

He raised an eyebrow. "it?"

You nodded, suddenly aware of your own heartbeat. "the song."

he blinked once, like it was just hitting him. "the one you've been singing for weeks?"

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. "yeah. that one."

he set his food down immediately. "wait, can i hear it?"

you hesitated for a beat. not because you didn’t want him to, but because this one was personal. a little too personal. the lyrics had poured out of you like confession.

but you pulled out your phone anyway and queued up the demo. then, you sat beside him. shoulder to shoulder. thumb hovering over play.

"before i press this, just know it’s not all sweet", you warned, giving him a sideways glance.

"oh yeah?" he smirked. "i get a diss track after all?"

"not quite", you said. "it’s honest. that’s all."

you hit play.

the first notes were soft, bare piano, breathy vocals. your voice came through the speaker, clear and close, like a secret being whispered.

i promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes but just don't

he didn’t move.

i tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes

you felt him shift, but not away from you, closer. elbow brushing yours.

“please, please, please don’t prove them right…"

you watched his profile instead of the screen. his jaw tensed slightly. His mouth parted, like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

and we could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me

when the final notes faded out, there was silence. not awkward. just thick with meaning.

you glanced over.

he was looking at you, not blinking.

"you wrote that about me", he said quietly.

you nodded. "yeah."

he was quiet for another second. then.

"you still worried i’m gonna prove them right?"

that was the scary part. you weren’t. not anymore. but that fear, that lingering echo of every warning, every headline, every almost-ruined thing. it lived in your bones.

"i think i was", you admitted. "but i’m not now."

shaun leaned back slightly, studying you. then he reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"good", he said. "because they were wrong. and i meant it when i said i’d prove it.”

you cracked a smile. "so far, so good."

he grinned back. "so when’s that one dropping? because if that’s about me, i want full credit."

"credit?", you laughed. "you should be grateful i didn’t use your government name."

"honestly? might be an honour at this point."

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

y/ninsta

liked by reallaknight, biancabelairwwe, sabrinacarpenter and 1,634,557 others

tagged: reallaknight

y/ninsta: 5 months, 1 song, and one man who hasn’t proved them right (yet). "please please please" drops friday

view all 91,283 comments

reallaknight: y’all hear that? that’s the sound of me not messing this up. (yet.)

y/ninsta: have you ever been serious about anything ever

sabrinacarpenter: queen behavior. also stream the hell out of this one y’all she snapped

user9: HER SOFT ERA. HIS REDEMPTION ARC. I’M SICK.

user10: not y/n turning la knight into a man with FEELINGS???

[switchbladekatie]

What are your predictions for new movie?

Could contain possible spoilers!

"One life ends, another begins" will be quoted by Loak in the first few minutes of the film.

The movie starts with a flashback scene of Neteyam and Lo‘ak on their ikran, then the scene moves to that deleted scene of Neteyams body being cleansed by Jake & Neytiri for his funeral, they’re both crying and hugging each other.

Ronals baby will be a boy, he‘s born after the first half or near the end of the movie.

Lo’ak tries to lighten the mood about Neteyams death as he narrates the movie by making soft little jokes and we will all cry so fucking hard about it.

Jake and Lo‘aks relationship will begin to change after Neteyams death. Jake has realized he’s being too hard on his son, but Lo‘ak thinks it’s too late for that now. They will get in a fight.

There will be a scene in the beginning that shows how Lo'ak and Ao'nung have become great friends and also a scene about the development of Lo’ak and Tsireyas romance.

Spider meets Payakan and the rest of the metkayina.

lan Garvin will change sides and join the na'vi resistance at one point.

The air nomad clan will visit the metkayina village during their travels and that is how they meet the Sully family and hear about their journey and problems.

Quaritch has lost the RDAs trust / it’s his last chance to get the mission done so he seeks out the ash clan because they’re known as brutal and dangerous. He promises them weapons in exchange for their help.

Lo’ak gets them all in danger again / acts even more careless because he seeks revenge for his brother.

Further into the film, Jake and Neytiri get into an argument, her trust in him is broken ("you promised to protect this family") which leads to her not listening to him when he tells her not to attack or start a fight (with Varang?)

THIS leads to her getting injured

Even Quaritch is taken aback by the brutality of the ash na'vi, Varang is very manipulative, greedy and gruesome.

Quaritch is forced to work with them in the beginning but then turns against Varang in order to save and protect Spider.

Lo'ak and Spider are captured by the ash na'vi which leads to Jake and Quaritch working together.

Spider will eventually break his mask, Kiri will help him so he’s able to breath without it which makes Quaritch realize that eywa is real.

Theres a general tension and unresolved conflicts between the Sully family and Spider throughout the movie.

Kiri will find a way to reconnect to eywa, but still won't find an answer to her questions (will eventually make peace with this and accept herself?)

Scorsby will get an robot arm

Kiri will save everyone with the help of eywa, in the end Lo’ak will also play a big role as the hero and we will witness his emotional development and how much he's grown from his mistakes

[switchbladekatie]

[switchbladekatie]

[switchbladekatie]

Karrion Kross WWE Monday Night RAW #1678 21 juillet 2025 World Wrestling Entertainment Houston, Texas, USA Arena: Toyota Center

[switchbladekatie]

[switchbladekatie]

Hello!!! Can I request an LA knight story were the reader tries to challenge a male wrestler to a match and LA freaks out cause he doesn’t her to fight a man? Thanks!❤️❤️❤️

la knight x reader + drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

❌ just reader being reckless and crazy. shaun panicking and drew being the emotional support

ARE YOU CRAZY?

you were tying your boots when you got the idea.

and like every one of your brilliant ideas, it came out of nowhere, loud and impulsive and definitely without any planning. the kind of idea that made people say “what the hell is wrong with you?” and the kind of idea that made shaun — your man — immediately start looking for the nearest fire extinguisher or worse, ambulance.

you were backstage at smackdown, your gear was already half on, your eyeliner was sharp enough to kill a man, and you had exactly twenty minutes before your match.

it was a normal day.

until you saw drew mcintyre walk by.

he was…enormous.

not like a little big. no. the man looked like he had been carved out of the side of a mountain and then dipped in testosterone. his presence alone made half the backstage crew sit up straighter. he walked like a king. and you, in your glittery kickpads and neon gear, stared at him like he had personally offended you.

shaun, seated behind you on a folding chair, noticed immediately.

“don’t” he said without even looking up from his phone “don’t do the thing you’re about to do.”

“what thing?” you asked sweetly, already rising to your feet with the confidence of someone who had never been injured.

“the ‘i can fight god and win’ thing” he muttered. “baby. please.”

you adjusted your wrist tape like a warrior ready for battle “i’m just gonna talk to him.”

“that’s what you said before you put karrion kross through a catering table” he whispered “and her wife wasn’t happy”

you turned, gave shaun your best innocent look, and blew him a kiss “back in five.”

he stared at the ceiling like he was asking it for help.

you found drew by the production crates, chatting with one of the writers about his promo later tonight. he was sipping water, arms crossed, laugh booming loud enough to shake the scaffolding.

you, being you, walked right up like you weren’t five foot whatever and a fraction of his body weight.

“hey drew” you said casually.

he turned and smiled “hey, lass. good luck tonight.”

you squinted “wanna fight me?”

he blinked.

then blinked again. were you serious?

“…what?”

you stood on tiptoe just to get closer to eye level. “i challenge you to a match. open challenge. no dq. i don’t even care if you bring a sword.”

the poor man looked like he’d been hit in the head with a frying pan made of confusion.

“are you serious?”

“dead serious” you nodded “unless you’re scared.”

a few crew members looked up. one of them gasped. another dropped their walkie.

drew blinked once more. then grinned “you’re insane.”

you laughed.

“i’ve been told.”

and that’s when shaun arrived, breathless, like a parent chasing their kid through a walmart.

“nope. absolutely not. what are you doing?” he pointed at you, wild-eyed, then at drew, then back at you “are you crazy?!”

“depends…” you shrugged “crazy strong? crazy fast? crazy pretty? or just…crazy crazy?”

shaun looked like he aged ten years in ten seconds “you’re four feet tall and built like a redbull can. that man is a prehistoric tank.”

drew, god bless him, tried to help “i’d take it easy on her.”

“you think that makes it better?” shaun shrieked, flailing dramatically “she doesn’t need to be taken easy on! she needs to be stopped! next thing i know she’s gonna barge into the male locker room and challenge everyone!”

“oh i might…” you patted shaun’s chest comfortingly “you love me.”

“unfortunately” he muttered, face buried in his hands.

somehow, somehow, the challenge was accepted.

nick aldis thought it was CRAZY. like you were the first one to bring up this idea. but he liked it. he knew — of course — that drew would have gone easy on you.

and he also knew that after this huge tension that’s been going on between the two roster, the public needed something chill — well, mostly chill — a match that would make people smile and relax.

so he agreed.

while la knight looked at him as if he had fire in his eyes.

and now you were in gorilla position, bouncing on your feet, grinning like a maniac, while shaun paced behind you like a worried dog in a thunderstorm.

“just… don’t try to suplex him” he begged.

“i’ve been working on my form” you said brightly.

“you’ll end up broken in nebraska.”

he made you laugh.

you turned and poked his chest “you gotta trust me.”

“i do!” he exploded “but you also tried to german suplex bron breaker once and blacked out for six seconds.”

you grinned “worth it. also he took it easy on me…”

shaun looked at the monitor like it had betrayed him. he couldn’t believe your words.

your music hit.

the crowd went nuts because they always did for you. they loved the chaos, the glitter, the trash talk, the recklessness. you were the firecracker of smackdown. and now you were about to step into the ring with the goddamn scottish terminator.

you skipped to the ring, blew a kiss to the crowd, and rolled under the ropes like you owned the building.

then his music hit.

the crowd alone made your spine vibrate.

drew stepped out onto the ramp like a boss fight, cape flowing, shoulders massive, looking down at you like you were adorable and also possibly dangerous.

you blew him a kiss too.

he smiled like he thought you were crazy. and if fact. you were.

the match was unhinged.

you jumped on his back like a spider monkey. he tossed you across the ring like a feather duster. at one point you tried to headbutt him and nearly concussed yourself. the crowd was eating it up.

you hit him with a chair.

he laughed.

you screamed “WHY ARE YOU SMILING?”

he shouted back “BECAUSE YOU’RE CRAZY!”

you lasted eight minutes.

eight glorious, exhausting, ridiculous minutes before he hit you with a claymore so fast it sent your soul to orbit. but even then, flat on your back, limbs spread like a starfish you were smiling.

and the second it was over, drew knelt and helped you out laughing like crazy. shaun was at ringside, hopping the barricade like he was being chased by a hurricane.

“don’t move” he said, crouching beside you.

“why?” you wheezed.

“because i don’t know if all your bones are still attached.”

you blinked up at drew and then up at him “was i cool?”

“pretty cool” drew added.

“baby. you were insane.” la knight smiled looking at you “and insane” then got more serious.

you reached up, grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a kiss, right there in the ring, your vision still fuzzy, crowd still cheering, drew laughing next to you.

when you pulled back, shaun groaned “i swear to god if you challenge roman next…”

“i was actually thinking gunther.”

“NO.”

[switchbladekatie]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Roman Reigns x fem! Reader, where she's a wrestler who's been out of action for a while, and she surprises him during WWE's Holiday Tour by making a return during his match with Karrion Kross, to take down Scarlett when she interferes, and they share a moment with the crowd.

Kinda similar to Seth & Becky last year at WWE's Holiday Tour in Toronto when he had a match with Finn, Rhea & Priest interfered & Becky handled her. Thanks, really enjoy your writing BTW!

~~~𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌~~~

gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚

𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓<𝟑

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒚/𝒏 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

not proofread

“What the hell!” Michael Cole shouts in his headset as the crowd lets out a shout when Scarlet is hit in the back with a kendo stick. “Who the hell is this?!”

Scarlet lets out screams as she is repeatedly hit in the back with a kendo stick before she is grabbed by the person and thrown over their shoulders. The person walks over to the commentary table and slams Scarlet down on it, crashing the table as the crowd gasp in confusion.

Roman looks on confused, glancing over at Paul who is just as confused. Paul takes it upon himself to walk over and check who the person is. Once it’s revealed to him who it is, he starts laughing with a smile.

“Oh my god.” Paul Heymam laughs hysterically as he claps his hand.

Roman stands up and stares at the person who takes off their hood to reveal Y/N Y/L/N. The crowd goes wild almost immediately when they see who it is.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Michael Cole, “It’s Y/N Y/L/N, Roman Reign’s wife! She’s been out due to an arm injury!” Michael Cole explains.

Roman slowly starts smiling as him and Y/n stare at each other. Roman never knew about this, they never even talked about her returning. Now that she’s back though, he has a ton of opportunities for her to have.

“Come inside here baby doll!” Roman motions inside the ring.

Y/n slides into the ring and skips over to him, wrapping her arms around him as he leans down and gives her a kiss. Everyone around them cheering.

“Why ain’t you tell me nothing?” Roman pulls back.

“Wanted to surprise you.” Y/n shrugs, glancing back at Scarlett and Karrion, “What should we do with them?”

Roman smirks and gives her a look that Y/n immediately understands as they both step out of the ring. They watch as both Scarlett and Karrion get to their feet and both start charging at them.

“Are they going to do it?! Are they?!” Michael Cole shouts

Both y/n and Roman hit a spear on Scarlett and Karrion making the crowd go crazy with cheers.

“Spear!” Michael Cole shouts, “A couples spear!” He exclaims.

Roman gets Karrion into the ring and pins him as Y/n stands above Scarlett, making sure she doesn’t interfere.

“1! 2! 3!” The crowd chants and the bell rings as they announce Roman retaining his titles.

Y/n slides inside the ring and jumps into Roman’s arm, “My tribal chief!” Y/n says, giving him a big kiss.

“Welcome back! Welcome back! Welcome back!”

[switchbladekatie]

𝗪𝗪𝗘 𝗪𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱

𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝: Alex Shelley, Chris Sabin, CM Punk, Cody Rhodes, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, JD McDonagh, Karrion Kross, LA Knight, Penta, Rey, Alexa Bliss, Chelsea Green, Dakota Kai, Liv Morgan, Scarlett

alex shelley [ 42 & 25 \ 17 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ At first, Alex really tried not to catch feelings. He noticed you, sure — who wouldn’t? But once he found out your age, he quietly pulled away.

❀ He’s hyper-aware of optics. “I don’t want to be that guy,” he told Sabin once, running a hand over his face.

❀ It’s not that he thinks the age gap means anything bad — just that he knows people talk, and he’s already a niche name with enough weird online rumors.

۶ৎ The Admition

❀ You probably have to make the first move. Gently, but clearly.

❀ Even then, he double-checks. “You do know how old I am, right?”

❀ He’s not insecure, but he’s cautious. He doesn’t want you to wake up five years down the road and resent him for “stealing your twenties.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ He asks, often, “Are you sure?” Sometimes about the relationship. Sometimes about the future. Sometimes in bed.

❀ You’ll reassure him, then tease, “Dude, you’re not a hundred. You’re hot and you quote Nietzsche when you’re sleepy. I’m good.”

❀ He once got moody after a fan said, “Damn, Alex’s new girl is young enough to be his student.” He laughed it off — but you could tell it hit something deeper.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Alex is quietly intense. He listens when you talk about your passions like they’re sacred texts. He buys you weird indie books and writes you playlists.

❀ He keeps you grounded when you spiral, and you pull him out of his tendency to emotionally isolate.

❀ He calls you “kid” sometimes. Not to be condescending — more like a soft nickname he doesn’t realize he says.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ You make fun of him when he says “tape” instead of “stream” and don’t know the bands he grew up on.

❀ He makes fun of your generation’s slang and refuses to learn TikTok.

❀ He once joked, “When you were in kindergarten, I was working Ring of Honor tapings.” You didn’t think it was funny. He apologized. You made him watch your favorite cartoon in revenge.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He sometimes worries he’s holding you back. That you’ll want kids when he’s done thinking about that. Or that someday he’ll be 50 and you’ll be 33 and feel trapped.

❀ You told him one night, dead serious: “I didn’t fall in love with your age. I fell in love with you.”

❀ That was the first time he cried a little after a kiss.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ He doesn’t broadcast the relationship online. Not because he’s ashamed — but because he knows how fast people judge when they don’t understand.

❀ You both have an agreement: stay strong privately, and let the world think whatever it wants.

❀ When he finally calls you his partner in an interview — not “girlfriend,” not “someone I’m seeing” — it means more than a ring.

chris sabin [ 43 & 23 / 10 year age gap]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Chris didn’t even think of you like that at first. You were just “the kid” around the locker room — cool, talented, kinda dorky, kinda hot, way too young.

❀ He clocked the age gap the second he learned it. “Jesus. Twenty-three?!” He laughed — nervously — like it was the punchline to a joke about his own mortality.

❀ “I’m closer to your dad’s age than yours.”

❀ He avoided flirting even though he definitely wanted to — didn’t want to be that guy.

❀ But then you kept showing up. Being kind. Being funny. Quoting his matches. And suddenly he wasn’t laughing anymore.

۶ৎ The Admition

❀ You probably had to call him out first. Something like: “You always act weird around me, but I know you like me.”

❀ He stammered, said some dumb crap about “protecting your innocence” or “trying not to be a midlife crisis meme.”

❀ But when you told him, “I like you, not your birth year,” it broke something open in him.

❀ Chris finally gave in with a sigh and a soft smirk: “Okay, kid. Just don’t tell anyone I was still using LimeWire when you were in diapers.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ “Are you sure about this?” — said at least once a week, especially when you do something thoughtful for him.

❀ You reassure him often, teasing: “Dude, if you make one more AARP joke, I’m gonna put you in a headlock.”

❀ He calls you “kid” or “rookie” affectionately, but only in private — not in a patronizing way, but like a pet name.

❀ You argue about music, movies, and which generation had the better cartoons. He always pretends to win, even when he’s wrong.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ He flirts by giving you hell. You flirt back by calling him washed.

❀ He does little things for you like charging your phone for you, carrying your bag, wrapping your wrist before a match. He’s quiet about it, but deeply present.

❀ He lets you borrow his gear hoodies. You “accidentally” never return them.

❀ Sometimes, when he’s feeling it, he pulls you into his lap and says, “God, how’d I land someone like you?” You tell him: “Because you still got it, Sabin.”

۶ৎ In Private

❀ Chris is softer than he lets on. At home, it’s warm hoodies, Star Wars reruns, and your legs tangled up on the couch.

❀ He’ll rest his head on your chest like he’s hiding from the world, and you’ll stroke his hair and say, “You’re not old. You’re golden.”

❀ You once caught him looking at old TNA clips of himself, quietly. You didn’t say anything. You just kissed his shoulder and held him tighter.

❀ He keeps your photo — a printed one — tucked in his wallet. No one knows but you. (And Alex who accidentally saw it)

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ Chris worries all the time that you’ll regret choosing someone older. That you’ll wake up and want someone who matches your timeline.

❀ “What if I can’t give you all the things a 25-year-old can?” he asks one night.

❀ You look him dead in the eye: “They can’t give me you.”

❀ He’s afraid people will see him as some washed-up guy clinging to youth. You’re afraid people will see you as naive.

❀ So together, you just choose to block out the noise. You make your own rules.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ Chris takes his time going public. He wants to protect you. Not from being seen with him — but from what people might say.

❀ But once he’s sure you’re serious? He’s all in. Brags about you in interviews like it’s nothing.

❀ You end up being the one who pulls him back into the spotlight in a new way. Younger fans know him now because of you.

❀ “She thinks I’m cool,” he says once in a podcast. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but I’m not gonna question it.”

❀ And when people ask how the age gap works? He just smiles and shrugs: “She keeps me young. I keep her grounded. Works out.”

cm punk [ 46 & 33 / 13 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Punk didn’t take you seriously at first. Not because he didn’t like you — but because he absolutely did, and that scared the hell out of him.

❀ The age gap wasn’t just a number to him. It was an entire lifetime of baggage, headlines, Twitter threads, and burned bridges.

❀ “You’re too young to know better,” he muttered once, when you looked at him like he hung the stars.

❀ He told himself you’d move on. You didn’t. You stayed — and it wrecked every wall he’d built around himself.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It happened in a quiet moment. He didn’t plan it. No speech, no dramatic gesture. Just a sigh and a soft, almost embarrassed, “You make me feel human again.”

❀ You didn’t need declarations. You just needed honesty. So when he added, “I think I’m falling for you,” it was enough.

❀ He apologized for the age gap like it was a flaw — like you should’ve picked someone younger, someone less him.

❀ You told him, “I didn’t fall for you by accident. I chose this.” He didn’t say anything, just pulled you into his arms like a man who hadn’t been held in years.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Long, winding talks at 2AM — about the business, the bullshit, the people who used him, and the parts of himself he lost along the way.

❀ He listens when you rant, and gently tells you when you’re being too hard on yourself.

❀ “You’ve got time to figure yourself out,” he’ll say. “Just don’t lose your soul doing it.”

❀ You challenge him sometimes — ask the questions no one else does. And he likes that more than he’ll ever admit out loud.

❀ And yeah, he lives for your sarcasm. He once told you, grinning: “If I was 20 years younger, I’d still lose an argument with you.”

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Protection masked as indifference. He acts chill, but he’d absolutely torch the earth for you.

❀ Physical touch. He doesn’t do PDA, but in private? He’s always touching you — your back, your hair, your hand.

❀ Acts of service — making your tea, downloading your favorite playlist on a flight, carrying your bag when no one’s watching.

❀ He doesn’t say “I love you” often. But he says “Get home safe,” “Wear your seatbelt,” and “You okay?” every single day.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ The public gets the punk rock rebel. You get the quiet, hoodie-wearing softie who quotes books and reads old comics in bed.

❀ He lets you trace his tattoos when you’re lying on the couch. He doesn’t say anything. He just closes his eyes.

❀ You once caught him watching an old match and mumbling his own commentary. He got embarrassed. You thought it was beautiful.

❀ He writes notes and leaves them around the house. Not love letters — stuff like: “You’re not a kid. You’re the only one who sees me.”

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He worries constantly that he’s taking something from you — your youth, your time, your chance to grow without his shadow.

❀ “You should be doing dumb 20-something things, not babysitting a bitter old man with joint problems.”

❀ He’s scared that you’ll wake up one day, realize you want something easier, lighter, safer — and walk away.

❀ But you remind him that love isn’t about convenience. It’s about who makes you feel alive. And no one does that like he does.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ He’s hesitant to go public. Not because he’s ashamed — but because he knows what people will say.

❀ But the first time someone talks shit online and you clap back? He sees it, chuckles, and reposts your comeback with the caption: “That’s my girl.”

❀ In private, he calls you his peace. His anchor. His home.

❀ When he finally proposes — and he will — it won’t be flashy. Just the two of you, a quiet night, and a simple, “I want to spend however many years I’ve got left with you.”

cody rhodes [ 39 & 27 / 12 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Cody’s first reaction to finding out your age was surprise — not in a gross way, but in a “wait, what?” kind of way.

❀ “You’re 27?” he asked, brows raised. “I’m literally pushing 40.”

❀ He didn’t flirt right away, even if he was into you. Too much respect. Too much awareness.

❀ Deep down, he was scared you’d just see him as some overpolished, walking PR poster with baggage and a legacy complex.

❀ But then you laughed at his dumb jokes, teased him about his entrance being longer than your attention span, and called him out when he tried to hide his nerves. You saw him. That’s what changed everything.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It happened slowly — soft confessions built on mutual glances and quiet loyalty.

❀ He didn’t come out and say it at first. But one night after a rough loss, when you hugged him and told him he didn’t have to prove anything to you, he broke.

❀ “I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

❀ He expected you to freeze. You didn’t. You kissed him. You held him like you’d known forever.

❀ “I already knew,” you said. “Took you long enough.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ You talk about pressure, about legacy, about who you want to be when the spotlight’s off.

❀ He listens when you rant about your own stuff. He doesn’t interrupt — just nods and takes it all in.

❀ Sometimes he brings up Dusty when he’s feeling vulnerable. You don’t say much. You just sit closer and hold his hand.

❀ He tells you, “You’re not a kid. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve met.” That’s how he sees you.

❀ And when you tease him? He loves it. “Okay, Grandpa,” you once said. He nearly choked laughing.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Physical touch. Forehead kisses. Hand on your back. Arms wrapped around you while you sleep.

❀ Words of affirmation. He tells you you’re brilliant, brave, and better than you know — because he means it.

❀ Buys you little things that remind him of you: notebooks, coffee mugs, a hoodie with your favorite movie quote on it.

❀ Always introduces you proudly, no hesitation in his voice.

❀ Will hype you up before anything important like you’re about to main event WrestleMania.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ He’s calm. Softer. You see the guy behind the suits, behind the pyro.

❀ He loves having slow mornings with you — coffee, half-asleep kisses, curled up in his shirt.

❀ Talks to you about fears he doesn’t let anyone else hear. You’re his safe space.

❀ He lets his guard down with you, and that trust means everything.

❀ Once whispered “you’re the dream I never knew I had” when he thought you were asleep.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He worries about how people will see you — that they’ll assume you’re chasing fame, or that he’s trying to look young.

❀ He never wants to make you feel like you have to grow up faster just to “match” him.

❀ Sometimes he overthinks — “Am I giving you enough?” “Am I too intense?”

❀ You always bring him back with simple, steady reassurance: “You’re not too much. You’re exactly right.”

❀ And when his mind spirals, you remind him: “I’m not with Cody Rhodes. I’m with you.”

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ Cody doesn’t do anything halfway. Once he knows you’re it, he’s in it for the long haul.

❀ He pictures you in his future — beside him at events, backstage at big moments, slow dancing in the kitchen.

❀ He keeps it private at first, but when he posts a soft picture of you on IG with a heart caption, it breaks the internet.

❀ He doesn’t care what people think anymore. You make him better. You make him whole.

drew mcintyre [ 40 & 29 / 11 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Drew didn’t even think about the age difference at first — you were just you, and that was enough to rattle him.

❀ When he found out your age, he paused and gave you this deep look like he was doing silent math in his head.

❀ “You’re 29?” he said slowly, like it wasn’t a big deal but also kind of was. “Damn… I’ve been wrestling longer than you’ve been legally allowed to drink.”

❀ He kept it respectful. Protective. Almost distant at first — not because he didn’t want you, but because he didn’t want to overstep.

❀ But the way you looked at him — like you saw the man behind the muscle — made him start to rethink everything.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It slipped out after a long night on the road, when you were curled up in a hotel room watching dumb TV.

❀ “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone like I want you,” he said, eyes heavy but honest.

❀ You kissed him and said, “So stop fighting it.”

❀ He didn’t answer right away. He just held you tighter, like he finally gave himself permission to want this.

❀ From that moment on, he never made you question how he felt — not once.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Deep talks. The kind that happen at midnight after long drives or after matches when adrenaline crashes into honesty.

❀ He tells you about growing up too fast. About failure, redemption, and how heavy the sword sometimes feels.

❀ You call him on his brooding when it gets too intense: “Alright, Braveheart, come back to Earth.”

❀ He listens when you talk about your own dreams — and never once makes you feel small for them.

❀ Occasionally gets overwhelmed by how much he loves you and just stares. You tease him for it, but secretly melt every time.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Physical protection. He always puts himself between you and a crowd, instinctively holds your lower back, opens doors, watches your surroundings.

❀ Quality time. Long walks, long talks, late-night cuddles with his giant arms wrapped around you like a fortress.

❀ Surprises you with flowers, quiet gestures, and sometimes ridiculously dramatic romantic stuff — like lifting you bridal-style just because he can.

❀ Soft forehead kisses, especially when you’re anxious. He leans in slow, and it always works.

❀ Loves when you wear his shirts — not even for the look, just because it means you’re his.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ Behind closed doors, he’s quieter. Gentle. His voice drops to this soft rumble that only you get to hear.

❀ Reads with his head in your lap. Lets you braid his hair when you’re bored. Grumbles about it, secretly loves it.

❀ He has a playlist full of songs that remind him of you but won’t admit it unless you catch him.

❀ You once caught him looking at rings online — he shut the tab fast, but his ears turned red.

❀ At home, he’s just Drew. No sword. No scowl. Just the man who loves you like it’s the only truth that matters.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He worries you’ll get tired of the road, the spotlight, the grind that comes with dating a WWE guy in his 40s.

❀ “You should be with someone who hasn’t already broken every bone,” he joked once. You didn’t laugh. You kissed his scarred knuckles instead.

❀ He fears holding you back — that you’ll want something easier one day.

❀ And even though he never says it out loud, he sometimes wonders why someone like you would choose someone like him.

❀ You make it clear every single time: “I didn’t fall in love with the wrestler. I fell in love with you.”

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ Once he knows you’re it? He’s already mentally planning a future. A quiet place in the Highlands. Peace.

❀ He talks about having dogs. Maybe a cabin. Maybe more — but he lets you bring that up first.

❀ He takes your relationship seriously from the start — no games, no half-measures.

❀ When he finally proposes, it’s private. Gentle. On one knee with tears in his eyes and both of your hands shaking.

finn balor [ 43 & 23 / 20 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Finn clocked the age gap the second you told him your birth year. “Two thousand what?” he blinked, half-laughing, half-spiraling.

❀ He kept his distance at first — not because he didn’t want you, but because he absolutely did, and that terrified him.

❀ “You’re just getting started,” he told you. “You don’t want to be dragged into my mess.”

❀ Deep down, he thought you’d eventually realize he was too cold, too damaged, too old.

❀ But you stayed. Even when he tried to push you away. That was when it hit him: you saw through the mask.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It came out during an argument — not loud, but tense. You asked him why he kept pulling back.

❀ “Because I’m scared you’ll wake up and see me for what I am,” he said. Quiet. Honest. Raw.

❀ You told him, “I already see you. That’s why I’m here.”

❀ He didn’t say “I love you” right then — he just kissed you, slow and deliberate, like the words lived in his mouth and couldn’t come out yet.

❀ When he finally said it weeks later, it was whispered into your hair at 3AM, after a nightmare. “I love you. That’s real. That’s not going away.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Deep, layered talks — about loyalty, pain, reinvention, and what it means to survive in a business that eats people alive.

❀ You bring out the version of him that still laughs. The version that cares. The one that isn’t just Fergal underneath all that war paint.

❀ “You’re not scared of me,” he once said, almost like a question. You smiled: “Should I be?”

❀ He lets you tease him — even when you call him “grandpa” for not knowing a meme.

❀ He’ll playfully roll his eyes, but nothing makes him melt more than hearing you say, “You’re my favorite part of all this.”

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Quality time. He doesn’t need fancy plans — just you, a couch, your legs over his lap, and music playing low.

❀ Physical closeness. He always has a hand on your thigh, your waist, the back of your neck — like he needs to know you’re real.

❀ He buys you black leather or plum-colored things that match his gear — and loses his mind when you wear them.

❀ Forehead kisses. Slow hugs. That rare smile he only shows when he thinks no one’s watching — except you always are.

❀ When he’s anxious, your voice centers him. No one else calms his pulse like you do.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ You get the softest version of Finn — hoodie up, socks on, lying with his head in your lap, asking what you’re reading.

❀ He lets you trace his tattoos. He says nothing, but his breathing slows every time.

❀ He listens to your music playlists even if he pretends to hate your taste — secretly has three of your songs saved.

❀ At home, he lets you call him “baby.” If anyone else tried that, they’d get a death stare.

❀ You once caught him building a Lego Rose Bouquet just for you, so that you can put on display.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He worries people will see you as naïve. That they’ll think he manipulated you, or worse — that you’ll believe them.

❀ He’s not scared of judgment from strangers. He’s scared of letting you down.

❀ “You deserve someone with less history,” he says sometimes. You always respond, “You are not your past.”

❀ He wonders if you’ll want kids someday, or a stable, slow life. He wonders if he’ll be enough.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ He’s cautious about showing you off publicly — not to hide you, but to protect you.

❀ But once he knows this is it, he stops hesitating. Posts a picture of your hand in his, dark red nails and all. No caption.

❀ He talks about retiring differently now — less like an end, more like a beginning. “Maybe one day… we’ll get a place near the sea.”

❀ He’s already imagining growing old with you. Not dramatic, not loud. Just quiet mornings and knowing glances.

jd mcdonagh [ 35 & 21 / 14 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ JD didn’t hesitate because of your age — he hesitated because of his own mind.

❀ He was more worried about what it meant to let someone in. Especially someone as alive as you.

❀ “You’re 21?” he asked once, not judging — just calculating. “That’s not young. That’s formative.”

❀ He watched you for a while, never pushy — just observant. Waiting to see if your energy would burn out or turn serious.

❀ And when you didn’t flinch at his darker thoughts? That’s when he knew.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ He didn’t confess it. He implied it. JD is the kind of man who wraps vulnerability in riddles.

❀ “You make everything sharper,” he told you one night. “Most people dull me. You don’t.”

❀ You figured it out, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. “You’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

❀ He didn’t say yes. He just smiled — not with his mouth, but with that cold fire in his eyes.

❀ And later, when things got quiet, he whispered against your neck: “It’s not love. It’s obsession. That’s much worse.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ You two speak in code — private jokes, unfinished thoughts, looks that say everything.

❀ He rants about philosophy, violence, the psychology of fear — and you engage. Not just nod along.

❀ “You’re disturbingly smart,” he once said after you countered one of his arguments. “It’s infuriating.”

❀ He’ll ask you questions mid-match, backstage — just to see if you’re watching closely enough to keep up.

❀ Your banter could destroy planets. Everyone else is confused and maybe a little afraid.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Mental stimulation. He needs your mind more than anything else. You challenge him. That’s rare.

❀ Unhinged protection. Someone talks down to you because of your age? JD’s smile gets sharper — and you know he’s about to say something that’ll haunt them forever.

❀ Sends you bizarrely specific gifts: a rare book on body language, a vial of black sand, a charm that “wards off liars.”

❀ Touch isn’t constant, but when it happens — his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tracing your spine — it’s electric.

❀ He memorizes your habits. Doesn’t just know what you like — he knows why.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ The JD people see in public? That cold, calculating tactician? That’s not who you get.

❀ Behind closed doors, he’s still intense — but soft-spoken. Introspective. Clingy in weird ways.

❀ He’ll read aloud to you, but only if you sit in his lap. He doesn’t like distance once he’s decided you’re safe.

❀ You’re the only person who’s ever been allowed to touch his gear before a match. He pretends it doesn’t matter — it does.

❀ He once said, “If I had met you when I was your age, I wouldn’t have survived you.” And he meant it.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He doesn’t worry about being older — he worries about corrupting you.

❀ “You’re so… pure,” he says, like it’s a threat. “It’d be a tragedy if I ruined that.”

❀ He’s convinced he’s too far gone sometimes. That you’ll realize he’s a project, not a partner.

❀ But when you say things like, “I know exactly who you are — and I’m still here,” he looks at you like you just rewired his entire belief system.

❀ His biggest fear? That he’ll make you like the chaos too much. That he’ll turn you into a version of him. And somehow… you’re okay with that.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ JD doesn’t plan for forever. He plans for outlasting.

❀ He talks about time like it’s malleable — like maybe the two of you can bend it, break it, make it yours.

❀ “We don’t need a picket fence. We need a fortress,” he once said. “One no one gets into but us.”

❀ Marriage isn’t off the table — but he’d want something symbolic, something ancient, something no one else understands.

karrion kross [ 39 & 28 / 11 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Kross doesn’t fear judgment — he fears fragility. And at first, he assumes you’re too soft for the world he lives in.

❀ When you first connect, he keeps his distance. Cold, unreadable. Always watching.

❀ “You’re 28?” he asked once. Calm tone. But there was a flicker in his eyes — like a warning to himself.

❀ He doesn’t like feeling drawn to someone. Doesn’t trust that kind of pull.

❀ But when you look him dead in the eye, no fear, no hesitation… that’s when his walls start cracking.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ He doesn’t do grand confessions. His love shows in actions, not speeches.

❀ But one night, after a match that left him battered and bloody, you sat beside him in silence, gently cleaned his wounds, and said, “You don’t have to fight alone.”

❀ He took your wrist, kissed your palm, and said, “You already fight with me.”

❀ Later, you asked if that meant he loved you. He didn’t answer — just pressed his forehead to yours like it was a vow.

❀ The next day, he wore a chain around his neck with your birthstone in it. No one had to ask why.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Conversations with Kross are deep, intense, often layered in metaphor. He doesn’t do surface talk.

❀ He’ll randomly ask, “If the world ended tomorrow, what would you regret not saying to me?” — like he needs to hear your truth.

❀ You talk about power, fear, pain — and your ability to hold space in a life that’s anything but normal.

❀ He listens more than he speaks, but when he talks, every word is heavy — and meant.

❀ Sometimes, in rare moments of softness, he’ll whisper things like, “You calm the monster. You know that?”

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Protection. He walks with you like a shadow. Always watching. Always alert.

❀ Silent touch. A hand on your waist. A brush of his knuckles across your back. A grip on your thigh beneath the table.

❀ He doesn’t give you typical gifts — he gives you keepsakes: a knife he’s carried since his first match, a ring from his father, a piece of his history.

❀ His version of “I love you” is “I’d burn the world down for you.”

❀ You once joked he was your villain. He said, “I’m your sword. Not your savior. Not your villain. Yours.”

۶ৎ In Private

❀ He’s quieter. Softer. Less armor, more skin.

❀ You’ve seen him sleep with his hand resting on your hip like a tether to reality.

❀ He reads dark poetry out loud — but only to you. His voice low, steady, magnetic.

❀ His favorite thing? You curled against him post-shower, his hoodie swallowing you, his name soft on your lips.

❀ Once let you trace the scar on his chest and said, “Every one of these marks meant something — but none meant more than you do now.”

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He doesn’t worry about the age gap — he worries about what being with him means for you.

❀ “You don’t get to have normal,” he told you. “Not with me.”

❀ He’s terrified you’ll wake up one day craving a softer life. A safer man. A younger man.

❀ He doesn’t beg. But the night you told him, “I don’t want soft. I want you,” he exhaled like it was the first real breath he took in years.

❀ His greatest fear? That his darkness will one day swallow the light you bring. So he keeps a piece of you — a note, a photo, your scent on his pillow — with him always.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ Kross doesn’t plan for the white picket fence life — but he plans for you. Always.

❀ Talks about leaving the chaos behind someday. Buying land. Raising wolves. Living quietly — with you as his peace.

❀ When he proposes, it’s not with a ring. It’s with a blade. Ancient. Silver. “This is yours now. Like I am.”

❀ You’re not his weakness. You’re his tether. His center. The only thing he’d ever kneel for.e

la knight [ 42 & 29 / 12 year age gap ]

The Hesitation

❀ LA Knight isn’t shy about flirting, but the moment he found out you were 29, he gave a raised brow and a low whistle.

❀ “Twenty-nine? Hell, I’ve got sneakers older than you,” he said with a smirk — but the moment lingered longer than he let on.

❀ He wasn’t worried about what you thought — he was more surprised at how fast he started caring.

❀ He tried to play it cool, calling you “kid” or “rookie” to push you away, but you gave it right back.

❀ That mouth of yours? Yeah, it caught his attention. But your brain? That’s what kept him coming back.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It wasn’t some deep, dramatic moment. He said it like it was fact — mid-argument, eyes locked on yours.

❀ “You think I’d let anyone else talk to me like that? Nah. I’m in love with you, that’s why.”

❀ You blinked. He kept talking like it wasn’t a big deal.

❀ “Don’t make it weird now,” he added with a wink — but his thumb brushed your cheek afterward, soft like the moment actually did matter.

❀ That’s the thing with him: all bark in public, but his bite is only ever gentle with you.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Constant teasing. Pet names. Arguments that start with sass and end in kisses.

❀ “You keep acting like you know everything ‘cause you’re 42,” you said once. He just grinned. “You’re damn right I do.”

❀ Beneath the banter, though, he opens up — late at night, when the cameras are gone and his guard’s down.

❀ Talks about regrets, second chances, and how nobody really expected him to get this far.

❀ You call him out when he hides behind the gimmick. He secretly loves that.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Words. Compliments, flirtation, jokes — but laced with real meaning.

❀ “Nobody’s lookin’ at me when you’re in the room, baby. You make me look like a warm-up act.”

❀ Physical affection. Constant touch — arm around your waist, hand on your thigh, tugging you close just to feel you laugh against him.

❀ Shows you off every chance he gets. Posts pictures with you on his lap, not the other way around.

❀ Buys you flashy stuff — not because he thinks you need it, but because he wants you to feel like the prize you are.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ Offstage, he’s quieter than most expect. Still cocky, but with less bark, more realness.

❀ Wears sweats, lounges against you, lets you play with his hair while watching reruns of old wrestling shows he was barely in.

❀ You once caught him listening to your favorite playlist when you weren’t around. When you asked, he just shrugged. “Had to see what kind of chaos raised you.”

❀ Lets you wear his jackets — doesn’t say it, but seeing you in them? That does things to him.

❀ When he wraps his arms around you at night, he always says, “You good?” — and never falls asleep till you say yes.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He pretends he doesn’t care what people think, but part of him wonders if folks assume he’s just using you to feel younger.

❀ Once said, “You sure you don’t wanna be out clubbing with someone who doesn’t ice his knees after a workout?”

❀ He’s not insecure — just aware.

❀ You never let that nonsense fly. You ground him with reminders that he’s the only one who makes you feel seen.

❀ His real fear? That you’ll outgrow him, or move on when the spark fades. So he keeps it burning like it’s day one, every damn day.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ He acts like he doesn’t plan, but he’s already imagined what it’d be like to wake up next to you for the rest of his life.

❀ If you mention houses or kids or long-term anything, he doesn’t panic — he just says, “If it’s with you? Yeah.”

❀ He wants a life full of noise, heat, passion — and peace that only you bring.

❀ He’ll still be calling you “kid” when you’re 40 and he’s grey at the temples.

penta [ 40 & 22 / 18 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Penta doesn’t say much when he realizes your age — he just nods once, slow and unreadable behind the mask.

❀ He doesn’t judge, doesn’t panic. But something shifts in the way he moves around you: quieter, more careful.

❀ The age gap doesn’t bother him in theory — it’s what it might mean in practice. Different life stages. Different needs.

❀ You challenge that fear without even trying. You match his fire with your own.

❀ It’s not your age that changes him — it’s your presence. You’re the first person who treats him like a man, not a myth.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It’s unspoken for a while. Lingering touches. Heated glances. A stare that lasts just a few seconds too long.

❀ He tells you in Spanish first — soft, low, intimate: “Te amo.”

❀ You ask him to say it in English. He cups your face and says it like a vow: “I love you. That is real.”

❀ You kiss him. He exhales like it’s the first breath he’s taken in months.

❀ After that, he never hides it. Doesn’t downplay it. Doesn’t let the age difference become a wall between you.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ He’s a man of few words, but what he says matters.

❀ Conversations are layered — some in Spanish, some in English, some just eye contact that speaks louder than anything else.

❀ He tells you stories from lucha days, about loyalty, brotherhood, pain, pride.

❀ You talk about the future. About healing. About creating something powerful from something violent.

❀ You ask questions no one else dares to. He answers all of them — eventually.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Acts of service. Fixes things before you notice they’re broken. Carries your bag. Adjusts your necklace clasp without you asking.

❀ Gift giving. You’ve got more skull-themed jewelry now than you know what to do with.

❀ Paints a mini version of his mask just for you, in your favorite colors.

❀ Holds your hand under the table. Always lingers behind after matches to find your eyes in the crowd.

❀ Doesn’t say “I need you” — he shows it in every motion, every glance, every still moment between chaos.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ No mask. Just Penta. Real name. Real voice. Real touch.

❀ You see his scars, both old and fresh. He doesn’t flinch when you trace them.

❀ You sleep wrapped in his arms — the only place he truly lets his guard down.

❀ He teaches you Spanish with lazy whispers and kisses between syllables.

❀ Once woke you up at 3AM just to say, “This… this is the peace I never thought I’d earn.”

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ He doesn’t fear what people say. He fears the weight this life might put on you.

❀ Wonders if you’ll grow tired of the mask, the flights, the silence.

❀ Sometimes asks, “Are you sure?” even when you’ve already proved it a hundred times.

❀ He’s scared of loving too hard — of giving you all of him and still losing you to time.

❀ You never let the gap become a gap. You meet him in the middle, every time, no hesitation.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ He builds a future in quiet pieces — a home, a place for your shoes by the door, a shelf for your books.

❀ You talk about kids. He listens like the idea has never been spoken aloud to him before — and then he starts picturing it.

❀ Keeps your photo in his travel bag, tucked beside his mask. Always.

❀ Plans to retire in Mexico one day — and you’ll be there with him, sun on your skin, his last match behind him, peace ahead.

alexa bliss [ 33 & 21 / 12 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Alexa didn’t flinch when she found out you were 21 — she just tilted her head and gave you that signature smirk.

❀ “Twenty-one?” she teased. “So you just stopped being jailbait, huh?”

❀ On the surface, she played it like she didn’t care — but deep down, she was nervous. Not about you, but about herself.

❀ Her life’s been fast, messy, glittery chaos. She worried it’d overwhelm you.

❀ But then you showed her you weren’t some wide-eyed kid — you were the only one who didn’t expect her to play a role.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It started as harmless flirting — playful touches, eye rolls, Instagram comments that made people assume.

❀ One night after a match, when you helped her take off her boots and she saw how gentle your hands were, she just said it.

❀ “You know I love you, right?” Like it was obvious. Like it had always been true.

❀ You smiled. “Yeah. I know.”

❀ She kissed you with glitter still on her face and said, “I don’t want to pretend I don’t.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ She talks fast when she’s excited, jumps topics like stepping stones — you never lose track.

❀ Late-night convos include trauma dumps between giggles, mental health check-ins, and debates about which horror movie villain is hot.

❀ You keep her grounded; she keeps you on your toes.

❀ She opens up in DMs and voice notes at 2am more than in person — but you always respond like it matters. Because it does.

❀ She’ll vent, then panic-text “Sorry, that was a lot.” You always reply “You’re not too much. Never.”

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Words of affirmation. She’s always hyping you up — “Look at you! You’re literally so hot I could punch a wall.”

❀ Touch. Constant clingers. Hand-holding, sitting in your lap, braiding your hair (or demanding you braid hers).

❀ Buys you cute matching gear, little keychains, and trinkets that “reminded me of us.”

❀ Posts the softest photos of you with captions like “my favorite distraction 💖”

❀ Hates PDA with anyone else — but with you? She’ll kiss you mid-promo if she feels like it.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ She’s a homebody more than people expect — curled up on the couch in fuzzy socks, watching horror movies with you and her pets.

❀ You’re the only one who sees her when the lashes come off, the glitter wipes away, and she just needs to cry.

❀ You once found her old diary from her early WWE days. She let you read it — then burned it together in the backyard.

❀ She loves lying on your chest, tracing your skin with her fingers like she’s memorizing the safe place she never had growing up.

❀ If you fall asleep first, she takes pictures of you. Not to post — just to keep.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ She’s insecure about the “former starlet” thing — worries you’ll want someone newer, shinier, less baggage.

❀ “You’re 21,” she whispered once. “You could have anyone. Why me?”

❀ She knows she can be intense — high highs, low lows, mood swings like a rollercoaster.

❀ You never make her feel like she has to shrink to be loved. That’s what scares her the most — that your love feels real.

❀ She’s terrified of being your phase. You prove every day that you’re not going anywhere.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ She never saw herself settling down. Then she met you.

❀ You talk about buying a weird little house with pink decor, a horror movie room, and a space for her ridiculous collection of Disney items.

❀ She jokes about eloping in Vegas in full cosplay. You joke back — but she’s halfway serious.

❀ She’d be a chaotic wife, an overprotective partner, and a damn good forever.

chelsea green [ 34 & 20 / 14 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Chelsea didn’t act shocked when she found out your age — she just smirked, tilted her head, and went, “Aw, baby… you’re practically fresh out the cradle.”

❀ It wasn’t a dealbreaker, but it was a red flag in her mind — not because of you, but because she knows people, and she knows how they talk.

❀ “They’re gonna think I’m corrupting you,” she said with fake horror — while adjusting your lip gloss.

❀ But then you stood your ground, teased her right back, and she realized: you’re not fragile. You’re formidable.

❀ That’s when she stopped seeing the age gap as a risk… and started seeing it as her favorite scandal.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It came out of nowhere, during one of her dramatic spirals over a broken heel and a late Uber.

❀ “I swear, I’m cursed, and I’m in love with the only person who’ll probably outgrow me in five years.”

❀ You blinked. She froze.

❀ “Wait—nope, too honest, don’t look at me.”

❀ You just kissed her and said, “You’re lucky I like crazy.” She’s never blushed that hard in her life.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Endless voice notes. Chaotic FaceTime calls. Long, late-night texts that bounce between, “ugh I hate everyone” and “do you think I should dye my hair for us?”

❀ She opens up slowly, wrapped in sass and sarcasm, but you hear the hurt between the jokes.

❀ You remind her she doesn’t have to perform around you. Th

❀ She loves your opinions — about her outfits, her promos, what shade of pink you should match on nails.

❀ “You’re smarter than me,” she said once with no humor. “That’s hot. I hate it.”

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Gift giving. Custom jewelry, spa dates, and matching lingerie sets that she insists you model only for her.

❀ Physical affection. She clings. Always touching — hand-holding, back-of-the-neck kisses, lying across your lap while scrolling Instagram.

❀ She buys you things just to see them on you — hoodies, rings, sunglasses — all “borrowed” by her the next day.

❀ She’ll post you every chance she gets: mirror selfies, blurry candids, captioned “mine 💋” or “get you a girl who looks like this.”

❀ And when you’re quiet or distant, she knows. Instantly. She’ll crawl into your lap, pout, and go, “What’s wrong, baby?”

۶ৎ The Private

❀ She’s wild on TV, extra at brunch, but at home? Cozy pajamas, messy bun, barefaced and tucked under your arm.

❀ She hogs the bathroom and the blanket but will scream if you’re not touching her constantly.

❀ Sometimes she breaks down for no reason. You hold her, rub her back, and remind her she’s safe. That she’s not too much.

❀ You two cook terrible meals together, dance in socks, and prank each other with fake bugs.

❀ She once cried because you brought her flowers “for no reason.” You told her, “Because loving you isn’t hard.”

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ She jokes about being your “older, unhinged sugar mommy” — but deep down, she fears not being enough.

❀ “You’ll wake up one day and realize you want someone calmer. Less… all this,” she says, gesturing to herself in glitter and chaos.

❀ She overthinks your quiet days. Gets nervous when you don’t answer quick.

❀ She’s terrified people will see her as a phase you went through in your twenties.

❀ You’ve said it more than once, loud and clear: “I don’t want safe. I want you.”

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ She already calls you “wifey.” Half as a joke, half as a threat.

❀ Plans your life in Pinterest boards: wedding themes, tropical vacations, matching dog collars.

❀ She says she wants to grow old with you — but still be wearing 6-inch heels at 60 just to “keep it dramatic.”

❀ She’s ready to build a life of chaos, glitter, and forever. As long as it’s with you.

liv morgan [ 31 & 19 / 12 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ When Liv first realized you were 19, she blinked, laughed, and said, “You’re literally a baby… like, Gen Z-Z.”

❀ She wasn’t grossed out — but she was cautious. She’s been hurt, misread, underestimated.

❀ “I don’t want to be a lesson,” she told you honestly. “And I don’t wanna teach you anything either. I’m not trying to be your big heartbreak.”

❀ But then she saw how steady you were. How you didn’t idolize her, didn’t put her on a pedestal — you just got her.

❀ The age gap didn’t scare you, and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ Liv’s the type to accidentally say “I love you” when she’s drunk on cotton candy at the fair.

❀ She said it mid-laugh, cheeks flushed, your hand in hers, and then froze.

❀ “Oh my god, wait—was that too much?”

❀ You said it back without even blinking, and she pulled you in so fast she knocked the lemonade out of your other hand.

❀ After that, she’d say it in every way except straight up: “Drive safe, okay?” “I saved you the last bite.” “You make me feel like maybe the world doesn’t suck.”

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Chaotic, half-finished thoughts. Tangents. You fill in her blanks without her asking.

❀ She opens up about her childhood in weird moments — in drive-thrus, under blankets, when you’re painting her nails.

❀ “Sometimes I think I’m too much,” she says softly. You always say, “Not to me.”

❀ You ground her, and she energizes you. She loves that you listen, but also challenge her when she spirals.

❀ Her favorite thing? Your random compliments. She’ll write them in her notes app like little lifelines.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Touch. All the time, everywhere. Holding your hand, leaning on you backstage, falling asleep literally on top of you.

❀ Words of affirmation. “You’re so hot it’s offensive.” “I’m obsessed with your dumb little face.”

❀ Sends you selfies with no caption just to see how fast you respond. Gets pouty if you take too long.

❀ Always matches her gear to something you’re wearing — it’s subtle sometimes, but it’s for you.

❀ You’re the lock screen. She pretends it’s no big deal. She stared at it for five minutes after setting it.

۶ৎ In Private

❀ She’s loud and soft all at once. A firecracker in your lap.

❀ Loves curling up with her head in your lap while you play with her hair and watch trashy reality shows.

❀ Leaves her clothes everywhere but gets mad if you misplace one of her earrings.

❀ Breaks down sometimes — too much attention, too much pressure, too many expectations — and you’re always there, arms open, no questions asked.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ She worries she’s stunting your growth — that you’ll look back and feel like she pulled you too fast into her chaos.

❀ “You should be out partying with college girls, not laying in bed with me watching conspiracy TikToks,” she mumbles.

❀ She’s insecure about being messy, emotional, dramatic — but you never flinch.

❀ Sometimes she worries she’s just your first — not your forever.

❀ But you tell her over and over, “I’m not here for the experience. I’m here for you.”

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ She dreams big. Road trips. Matching tattoos. A farm in the hills with a dumb little white dog.

❀ You once said you weren’t sure where you’d be in five years — and she immediately said, “With me.”

❀ She talks about getting married in the woods, barefoot and wearing glitter.

❀ Liv is chaos, but you’re the thing she never wants to lose — her home, her person, her safe place.

scarlett [ 34 & 23 / 11 year age gap ]

۶ৎ The Hesitation

❀ Scarlett clocked your age immediately. One look and she knew: young, fearless, probably trouble.

❀ She didn’t run — but she did keep you at arm’s length for a while. She’s had people fall in love with the fantasy of her, not the woman underneath.

❀ “You’re 23?” she said once, eyebrow raised, lips smirking. “Baby, I’ve got corsets older than you.”

❀ What she didn’t expect was how disarming you were — calm, grounded, yet just as intense in your own way.

❀ It wasn’t your youth that caught her. It was your clarity. The way you looked at her like she was real.

۶ৎ The Admission

❀ It wasn’t planned. It never is with her.

❀ One night, after a match that left her furious and bruised, you found her backstage. Sat down. Said nothing. Just held her hand.

❀ “You don’t flinch,” she whispered. “Everyone flinches. But you don’t.”

❀ Then, under her breath, eyes on your fingers tangled with hers: “I think I’m falling for you.”

❀ You just leaned in and kissed her palm — no words, just presence. She’s been yours ever since.

۶ৎ Conversation Types

❀ Sultry on the surface, deep underneath. She’ll start a sentence with a flirt and end it in vulnerability.

❀ She tells you things she’s never said aloud — what power costs, what loneliness feels like when the lights go down.

❀ You don’t talk over her. You listen. You ask real questions.

❀ “You don’t try to save me,” she said once. “You just see me. Do you know how rare that is?”

❀ Her voice is quiet with you. Almost reverent.

۶ৎ Love Language

❀ Touch. She’s tactile — always adjusting your jacket, brushing lint off your shoulder, fingers under your chin to tilt your face toward her.

❀ Quality time. Candlelit rooms. Silk sheets. Wine glasses with lipstick on both rims.

❀ She buys you lingerie — for herself to unwrap.

❀ Always makes sure you’re looking at her when she walks into a room. She likes the way your gaze softens.

❀ Sends you little notes in your bag before flights: “I miss you already. Come back dangerous.”

۶ৎ In Private

❀ She’s softer than anyone would expect. Slippers instead of heels. Oversized robes instead of corsets.

❀ She rests her head on your chest, lets you brush her hair, lets herself breathe.

❀ She doesn’t need to be dominant around you. With you, she’s equal. Real.

❀ She’ll cook, burn it, swear, and order takeout — and you’ll both laugh till you cry.

❀ She has a playlist called “for her” — it’s all slow, sultry songs she imagines dancing to with you in low light.

۶ৎ The Worry’s

❀ She’s terrified she’s just a chapter in your youth — a beautiful blur you’ll remember fondly but leave behind.

❀ “You’ll want simpler one day,” she murmured once. “And I’ll still be… me.”

❀ She doesn’t fear age. She fears being replaceable.

❀ You’ve had to remind her more than once: “I don’t want simple. I want you.”

❀ She believes you. Mostly. But she holds you a little tighter every time you say it.

۶ৎ The Long-Term

❀ She sees forever with you, even if she pretends not to dream.

❀ “If we moved to Paris, I’d never wear pants again,” she jokes. Then she looks serious. “Would you come with me?”

❀ She wants passion, ambition, and a partner who matches her flame — and you do.

❀ Marriage? Maybe. Matching tattoos? Definitely. Growing old in black lace and eyeliner? Absolutely.

[switchbladekatie]

Prompt 20, Colten Gunn and female reader

Hold you

Colten Gunn x f/Reader

Fluff Prompt List

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: mentions of a past injury.

WC: 246

Requested by @chantelaustingunn

©️magicalbuttertarts 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

#20: hugging them from behind

I was having a rough day.

After getting the go-ahead from the AEW Medical Doctor that I could start training again, I jumped right back into, hoping that I would be like how I was before I fractured my ankle.

After being off for months, due to surgery, recovery, and physiotherapy, I just wasn't the same as I was.

Every day I was getting better and better, but today, for some reason, I just couldn't seem to jump from the high rope.

I kept having flashbacks to landing on it weird all those months ago and not being able to stand on it.

Austin didn't say anything as I gently climbed down the ropes, taking a deep breath, wondering if I would ever be able to jump from the high ropes again.

"How about we take five?" Austin suggested, watching as I hadn't moved from the spot. Still holding onto the rope.

"Yeah, I think that may be a good idea," I muttered.

I was about to move when I felt someone stand behind me and wrap their arms around my waist.

Their front flushed against my back.

When I heard her say my name, I instantly relaxed, knowing it was just my girlfriend.

"Just one day at a time Colten. No need to rush."

I placed my hand over her clasped hands and just squeezed, letting her know silently that I appreciate what she is doing right now.

Knowing I just needed this hug.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @blackwingedmisanthrope @sunshinevirus

[switchbladekatie]

[switchbladekatie]

Bro, Gates of Agony push. FUCK YES!

Rooting for these guys since Mogul Embassy and Cage of Agony lfg!!!

[switchbladekatie]

When I’m talking shit about someone with my bestie and I didn’t realize they where behind me the whole time

[switchbladekatie]

•Damian Priest x Reader•

------------------------------------------------------------------

*Y/N's POV*

Standing ringside as Randy Orton is getting ready to give an RKO to my man Drew McIntyre, Kevin Owens comes walking down the ramp towards the ring. I run over to the backside of the ring because I am going nowhere near that man. He is crazy! Randy gets distracted and Drew hits him with a Claymore to end the match. Drew rolls out from under the ropes and falls onto the floor. I help him stand up with his arm around my neck and we walk to the back.

------------------------------------------------------------------

*later in the night*

Drew and I are walking through the back when we run into Lewis Capaldi. Drew and him mess around for a little inviting him to come drink with us. We say our goodbyes and continue down the hallway when Jackie Redmond comes up to us.

"Y/N. Drew. Congratulations on your victory tonight! I was hoping to get your thoughts on your victory and what happened tonight and ummm...."

"See what happened. I don't care about other people's business. When nobody screws Drew McIntyre over. When nobody gets involved with my business, I win. I defeat Randy Orton. I called out Damian Priest last week. Not even showing. Doesn't have the balls. So I'm gonna go in the town, Lewis is gonna meet me. Everybody is invited. Get mad with Drew, Y/N and Lewis! Good night everybody!"

Drew pulls me closer to him with his arm around my neck and I blow a kiss at the camera as we turn towards the back door to leave. As soon as he opens the door, Damian is standing on the other side waiting for him. Damian grabs him by his head causing me to fall over and Damian slams Drew's head into the door. Damian starts beating him up, throwing him into staging equipment then into a car. Damian slams Drew's head into the back of the car and a security guard is yelling at Damian to stop. Damian grabs the guard, picks him up and smashes him through a table. I run over to Drew and check on his head when Damian turns around and points at me. Drew grabs him and knees him in the stomach. He throws him into the car then onto the hood of the car.

"You trying to pull a fast one? Is that right Priest?"

Damian pops up and gouges Drew's eyes out. I am standing in front of the car watching them fight as Damian stands up, grabs Drew by his throat and hits him with a South of Heaven through the car windshield. I gasp then stare up at Damian as he leans over Drew.

"Rest in peace jackass."

He jumps down as I slowly turn towards him and he looks at me with a smirk. He runs his hand up my neck, grips my hair and turns my head up to look at him.

"Nice work mi amor."

"Nice work yourself."

He grips my hair tighter as I smile really big and he gives me a big sloppy kiss. We start making out in front of the camera basically devouring each other. I hear Drew groan and smash his fist into the hood of the car. I pull away from Damian and look over at Drew then back at Damian.

"Let's get out of here!"

"Right behind you!"

The end! ❤️

[switchbladekatie]

I've loved this man since day one 😩

Summary: Bron shares a quiet and intimate morning with reader at the hotel.

It's about 7 AM in a luxury hotel somewhere in Ohio. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, alarm echoing off the taupe walls.

"Mmm." I groan, eyes blinking open slowly.

My bare skin is cool against the silk sheets beneath me. I shift on the sheet, leaning back into the warm and firm body behind me.

"Go back to sleep." A gruff voice whispers in my ear, warm breath against my neck.

"I have meetings all morning." I protest softly. "Not all of us can parade around in a slutty singlet and get paid for it." I yawn again, rubbing my eyes.

"Oh?" Bron's rough morning voice deepens a bit, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. "You think I'm slutty, baby? Only for you, gorgeous." His lips trail down the back of my neck and to my shoulder.

"Doubtful." I quip back. "Manwhore."

Bron shifts against me, propping himself up on his arms so he's hovering above me. He looks down at me on my back below him, his dark eyes full of playfulness and affection.

"That's not very nice of you, baby." He brushes a stray strand of hair out of my face. "I might have to teach you some manners."

"Teach me, huh?" I roll my eyes playfully. "I'm your boss, remember? I teach you things. Not the other way around."

Bron grins, head dipping down. His lips brush my neck and collarbone. "Pretty sure that I could teach you a few things, baby." He takes my earlobe between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug. "You just gotta let me."

"Bron." I groan. "Come on, babe. I have meetings." I push at his shoulders to free myself from underneath him.

"Kiss first, dollface." Bron insists.

I roll my eyes, a small groan of annoyance leaving my lips. With a sigh, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down. My lips meet his in a gentle and warm kiss.

"There." I pull back after a moment. "Satisfied? Can I go now?"

Bron chuckles, his warm hand caressing the side of my face affectionately. "Satisfied? With you, baby? Never." He grins. "I'll never get enough of you."

"Ugh." I groan. "Why are you so damn sweet?"

"You love me." Bron grins, face hovering over mine once again.

I roll my eyes again, rubbing my hands up and down the plane of muscles that is his back.

"Yeah." I smile. "I love you."

"Love you too, gorgeous." Bron smiles back, leaning down for one more kiss before he rolls off of me.

I stretch now that I have room again. With a yawn, I sit up and check my phone. It's around 730 now. I have to meet Pearce in the arena to go over the show at 9.

Bron settles onto his back next to me, wearing nothing but his boxers. He props an arm behind his head with a sigh, closing his eyes to relax.

"You shouldn't get to go back to sleep." I complain, dropping back onto the bed.

I settle against him, laying my head on his chest with a sigh.

Bron wraps his arms around me, his fingers dancing over my bare back. "Stay here." He suggests. "Pearce ain't gonna care if you miss one meeting."

"He will." I groan. "You know how he is."

"Yeah..." Bron sighs, an idea popping into his head.

I close my eyes for a second to enjoy the way his chest rises and falls against my head. So, I don't notice Bron picking up my phone and dialing a number until I hear the line.

"Pearce?" Bron speaks into my phone, clasping a hand over my mouth with his free hand before I can protest. "Yeah. I'm calling in for Y/N. She's not feeling well this morning. Oh, yeah. Puking up a storm. Hangover, yeah. So, she won't be in until tonight." He lies through his teeth on the phone.

Bron takes his hand away from my mouth once he's hung up the phone.

"What did you do!" I move to straddle his torso, grabbing at my phone.

"Helping." Bron replies with a cheeky grin. "Now you're all mine for the morning." He grabs ahold of my hips, turning me over onto my back again.

I gasp, settling onto my back. "God. You're horrible." I whine, putting my arm over my eyes. "I can't believe you did that."

"You get to spend your morning with me now, though." Bron grins. "And I'm gonna make it worth your wild, babydoll."

He presses his lips against my neck, trailing wet and warm kisses down my body. His lips make a path down my body, tongue darting out to swipe down the valley between my breasts. I gasp at the sensation, making him smirk against my skin. His tongue flicks down my abdomen, dipping into my bellybutton for a brief second.

"Bron!" I gasp, body shuddering under him.

"Yeah, gorgeous?" Bron sets his chin on my stomach, grinning up at me.

I narrow my eyes, looking down at him. "I hate you." I grumble.

"Nah." Bron hums, peppering my stomach in kisses again. "You love me, dollface. Can't get enough of me." He mumbles against my skin.

I sigh, knowing that's true. I do love and adore the man currently between my legs. I grab his chin, pulling him back up so he's level with me.

"Yeah, I love you. Dickhead." I admit before kissing him.