#jonxreader

(Jon x Reader)

Words: 2829

Sixth in a series.    

(Part 1 / King in the North / The White Wolf / Skins / The Thing That Came in the Night)

The heavy fall of Jon’s bootsteps echoed across the stones, and with them went all the other sounds in the room; a silence as thick and heavy as a wet bear pelt seemed to fall upon your shoulders.

It wouldn’t do to chase after him--if he’d grown so hotheaded as to storm out on a guest, it was best that he was left alone to settle. If he needed your ear, he could find you.

You looked at your grandmother as she finished the last of her meal: how her expression remained unchanged as she scraped up the last of the greens and pork drippings onto a heel of bread, and ate as slowly as she had before. You wanted to strangle her. You wanted to weep. You wanted to know how it took her a single dinner to throw everything into chaos. Worse yet, it made a part of you wish she had never come.

She chewed, and she swallowed. She eyed the all-but-empty hall, as if waiting for a servant to appear at her elbow with another noggin of ale. When none manifested, she turned expectantly to you. “I suppose you should show me to my quarters,” she said at last.

Um...does this thing work? You scribble onto the back of your hand quickly, before you lose your nerve. You’d noticed an exchange of marks before, gaining strange bruises and odd paint splotches so you thought, why couldn’t you talk back and forth?

You’d gone just about crazy trying trying to find out who your soulmate was - but it was kind of hard when there wasn’t any obvious identifications following the marks you received. You glance down at your hand and gasp.

I hope so? Hello :) 

Hi! You reply, giddy and grinning. Oh god this works,hi!

Hello to you too! The words are now slowly ending up on your forearm. How did you think to do this?

Ah....alcohol? You laugh to yourself.

Beautiful. Let me go ahead and apologize for all the bruises lately, my coworkers are...crazy.

And you talk. And talk and talk.  The next thing you know its way too early in the morning and you’re struggling to find free skin space. You and Jon (he told you his name!) finally say goodnight and you thank whatever powers may be that you used an eyeliner pen instead of a sharpie. After about 4 makeup wipes and a quick shower, you fall asleep thinking about your conversation.

***

You getting in line at a local pizza place when you notice a guy in front of you with dark hair in a bun and intricate lines on his arm. Impulsively, you tap on his shoulder.

“Do you mind showing me your tattoos? I’m interested in getting some myself and those look cool!” You grin at him as he turns around, though he ducks his head and pulls absentmindedly at his bun. 

“Ah, they’re not tattoos, I was, uh, writing on myself?” He says it questioningly, as if he’s not sure himself. You stare at the man for a long moment before you tilt your head.

“Jon?” You ask.

“Y/N?” He asks back. When you nod excitedly, Jon breaks out into a grin then almost immediately frowns down at you.

“Where’s all your marker leftovers?” He asks, pouting. You laugh lightly.

“I used eyeliner.” 

A/N: I hope it was worth the wait. I struggled with how to end a series I love so much. Enjoy and keep the Moxley love alive. 

Tags: @comeonerleen @thelookingglassalice @mrsjonmoxley @ladymoxley  @blueboxdiva @ashleyh28​ @dirtydeedsmewithsassbelievethat

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warning: Language and Lovin’

Summary: Life has a way of throwing dreams at you and asking you to choose one

  x Part Ten x

The baby sends you to the restroom in the middle of the night, reminding you who is in charge; you wash up and pause at the door, leaning against the frame to stare at your snoring husband.

Face nearly buried in the pillow, an arm curled under it as the other stays stretched out in your empty space, Jon sleeps like he hasn’t in weeks. Your request had relaxed you mutually, but for Jon it was a sedative. Everything was right with his world.

You shake your head a little, rolling your hands over your belly with a sigh; padding over to the dresser, you dig in the drawer to find one of the velvety soft shirts you had received from Ivelisse in the mail – the first items you can say someone actually bought at a maternity store. You would die before you admitted that you lived in and rotated the shirts for days on end.

Pulling it over head, you tip toe out of the room and head down the hallway. The house remains undisturbed, patient with you as you enter what is to be the nursery. It’s nothing but piled boxes right now, pictures on cardboard of what will come to be in the still bare room. You toes curl on the plush carpet and encourage you to take a careful seat.

In another trimester, you will have a tiny little being that depends on you and Jon for everything. Glancing down, you find yourself subconsciously rubbing your stomach again; you worry about what happens after the baby gets here. You’ve never discussed it.

Will you ever go back to WWE? To Lucha? Are you ready to be a stay-at-home mom who knows nothing about raising a kid? It’s driving you nuts to be without Jon now! Should you stay in state or should you convince Jon that Los Angeles is best? At least there you have the Lucha family to help you navigate everything.

Thinking makes you feel dizzy, like the room is spinning out of control, and you ease yourself to the floor, rolling onto your back. As the light escapes through the curtains, you watch it dance along the ceiling and wonder if the baby can hear your thoughts. It sends you into a panic so quickly that you begin to direct your ideas to your child, No matter what, you will come first. Don’t you ever worry about that. Me and daddy will make sure you are surrounded with love, and nothing will ever come between the three of us.

“(Y/N)?” Jon’s voice brings you out of your head, smiling up at him to the point where he chuckles; he stares down at you, a pair of sweats riding low on his hips as he frowns, “Babe, what are you doing?”

“Hanging out with the baby.” You reach up to him with playful, grabby hands until he groans his way into lying beside you; when he’s flat on his back, you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder and take his nearest hand to put it on the tiny hill of your tummy, “Did I wake you?”

“I could just tell you weren’t there.” Kissing the top of your head, he exhales, “It woke me up.”

You love that he has such a connection to you, but you wonder if you should tell him everything keeping you up in the middle of the night.

Jon begins to run small circles on your belly, kissing the top of your head, “What were you talking to the baby about? Something else you don’t need to worry about right now, I’m sure.”

Taking a minute, you chew your lip and hug his bicep; you kiss at his shoulder then settle your head against it again, “…everything…where I’m going to work. If I’m going to work. If we should move closer to Ivelisse and Angelico since I know they’ll be my biggest help.” Panicking, you wonder if you told him, “They’re coming down when the due date gets closer. Said they would help me until the baby is here, and you can get a little time off.”

“You told me, but—everything else. Where’s it all coming from?” Jon lifts his hand from your belly and maneuvers it around your body, beginning to stroke your hair and back, “You just sitting here and driving yourself nuts?”

“No, I just…” You fidget with the waist of his sweats, sighing, “maybe…”

“Don’t you worry about anything, (Y/N).” Cupping your chin with his free hand, Jon lifts your view and locks your eyes, “We’ll figure it out. All of it.”

“There’s a little human on the way, Jon.”

He lets out the breath of a laugh, stroking your wild hair, “I’m aware.”

“It’s going to change everything.”

“Not everything.” Jon sees the question in your uncertain eyes, and he coaxes you up until the two of you are standing. His carved arms come in a strong hold around your upper frame as his chin settles on your shoulder, his bare chest against your back, “That box will change into a crib. And that will hopefully be a functioning rocking chair.”

You chuckle at the thought of him finally putting everything together, his quick temper trying to follow instructions that provoke his fury because he would rather eye ball it. Hugging his arms tighter around you, tilting your head to let him speak easier into your ear, you listen intently to your husband’s reassurance until the words seep into your skin an soothe your bones.

“There will be a baby who—hates being told what time to go to bed and eats way more than a kid should.” Jon releases a raspy laugh with you before kissing the side of your throat, “But it won’t change how I feel about you…how I’ve felt about you all this time.”

Your eyes mist at the reassurance, your breath trembles a little.

“You are my wife, and I would still kick any guy’s ass who so much as cracked a smile your way.” His assertion causes you to break out in a tearful giggle, thinking of the time he attacked a friend at a house party. Turning you towards him, his hands frame your face as Jon smirks like he knows he’s scored, said the perfect thing, “The important things are never gonna change, (Y/N). And the rest of it? …my job is to keep my family together so – I heard I just gotta keep you happy.”

“Oh yeah?” You lace your fingers with his and wrap his arms around you, “Who said that?”

“I don’t know, but…” Jon’s lips begin to hover around yours, sharing your smile as you guide him to a backwards walk out of the nursery, “I’ve heard it more than once so…”

“It’s gotta be true.” You agree, giving a small nod before your lips are catching and releasing his in feather light pecks, “Welp, I know what you could do to make me happy right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” You finally break your embrace but keep hold of one his hands to lead him into your bedroom, “Put me back to sleep, Moxley.”

A/N: I apologize for the long wait between chapters. The muse has been fickle. I hope you’re still into it as we’re nearing the end. 

Tags: @comeonerleen​ @thelookingglassalice​ @mrsjonmoxley​ @ladymoxley​ @dirtydeedsmewithsassbelievethat​ @ashleyh28 @blueboxdiva

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warning: Language and Lovin’

Summary: Life has a way of throwing dreams at you and asking you to choose one

x Part Nine x

Your doctor had promised you that, during your second semester, your symptoms would work themselves out. However, it feels like your baby has total control of you. While the morning sickness has lessened a little, your body is still tender in certain spots and you sleep a lot. Telling Jon this is a bad idea as he thinks you should see the doctor at the smallest sign of discomfort.

You promise yourself today will be different as Jon returns from a trip overseas and has a few days off to come home for a reset (a true rarity). Part of you is nervous about how he will react to the more pronounced curve of your stomach as your clothes are starting to feel a little snugger. It doesn’t really matter though because you are anticipating his arrival with unbridled excitement – especially since your hormones are anxious for his presence.

You find a nice sundress to mask some of your curve, giving your hair and light make up a once over, before you head to the airport. A part of you hopes he isn’t too tired to ignore your obvious flirtations; however, as you pull up to the arrivals gate, you see nothing but exhaustion. You have to play off your disappointment as you pull up to him; you park the car and reach for your belt buckle when the passenger door swings open, “Don’t get out, just pop the trunk.”

“Oh, okay.” You do as instructed, watching with a slight pout as he loads his bags into the trunk.

Jon slams the trunk, taking the passenger seat and leaning over to kiss your cheek, “People here are fucking crazy. I don’t need them hitting my pregnant wife.”

“Thanks, babe, always looking out for me.” You lean over, signaling for him to give you a proper kiss and feel the same flutter in your chest when he obliges – hands framing your face in a familiar adoration.

--------------

Jon gets a shower in, one you are hoping will revive him; you need it to. Your body is craving his in a way which is so unfamiliar to you. While you had recently spent a lot of phone time talking about the baby’s daily treatment of your body, you had not had a chance to tell him how the changes were making you thirstier than you had ever been for your husband.  You wander into the bedroom as he steps out of the bathroom, prepared to ask him if he wants anything special so that you can make some suggestions.

Jon smiles upon seeing you, causing you to go dumb in speech, and his fingertips ghost yours, his lips catching a quick kiss of your neck, as he passes. Then, he falls face first onto the bed.

Rolling your eyes, realizing he probably thought you were heading to the bathroom, you turn around and grab a pair of his sweats, toss them onto the bed beside him. You know it’s a bad idea to disturb him like this; he just needs to rest.

Disappointed, you head back into the living room and curl up on the couch. It isn’t long before your body falls into a familiar lull, and you are out like your husband.

--------------

“Yeah, I don’t wanna wake her up. Doesn’t seem like she’s been sleeping much better than me.”

Your awareness stirs before your eyelids are light enough to blink, yet you recognize his fingers tenderly combing your hair as he speaks to someone else.

“Yeah, I’ll leave a note and head out. I can’t stay there long, man, or (Y/N)’s gonna kill me.”

“…damn right I will.” You mumble, blinking your eyes open as a smile spreads on your lips.

“She’s up. I’ll call you back.” Jon hangs up the phone, sitting on the floor beside the couch and admiring your features, “I was trying not to wake you…oops.”

“Babe, you actually think…” Done being patient, you run your index finger down his exposed chest and down to the waist of his sweatpants, “I’m letting you go anywhere tonight?”

Jon’s interest is peaked as his fingers move from combing your hair and down to your jawline, “What about…”

“That’s what I’ve wanted to tell you since I went to pick you up at the airport.” You sit up on the couch with almost childlike excitement, “My body is feeling ten times better, with exception of some soreness, and I’m—I—” You have no idea why you’re embarrassed to say it, but you feel the blush heat your cheekbones. Now, as Jon is so close and clearly interested in your words, you debate if you’re ready to experiment with your body confidence. The last thing you want to do is get him thinking twice because your baby bump is obvious and clearly responsible for your surge in hormones, “Could we just say…I’ve been thinking about—us a lot lately, together?”

He laughs sharply, leaning a little against the couch and stretching his legs out; he’s clearly aware of your concentrated stare on his muscles as he teases, “You’re horny?”

You roll your eyes then bow your head, “Really? You gonna make me regret bringing this up?”

“No!” Jon pushes the coffee table aside with a gentle shove and sits on his knees in front of you; his hands make their first contact with you, sliding the material of your dress up to your mid-thigh as a smile dances on his lips. Easily parting your legs enough to settle between them, he continues to massage your skin, “Roman said something about this.”

“You talked to Roman about my body?” You feel somewhat ashamed that your body begins to burn because of his touch despite your mortification, “I don’t wanna feel like a school girl for wanting something from my husband.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel anything yet.”

Jon combs his fingers into your hair once more, grasping at the ends and bringing you in for a hungry kiss. It is enough to completely consume your embarrassment and get your body focusing on only one goal – release. Snaking your arms around him, your fingers nails crawl over his bareback and scrape playfully at the skin.

His hands cascade down your body for a rough grope of your breasts, and you moan in a way that signals far more pain than pleasure. Wide-eyed, Jon ceases all contact, “What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” You cup yourself, hoping he doesn’t panic at your announcement, “They’re really sore.”

You wanna explain further, but Jon’s got a focus. Pushing the straps of your sundress off your shoulders and down just above your belly, he delicately undoes and removes your bra. However, rather than playful, he inspects your figure.

After a moment, when you see he’s trying to restrain a smile, you are halfway tempted to push him away, “There’s nothing wrong with them. Yes, they’re a little bigger. They’re really sensitive.” Brave and bold, you move your hands down to your belly, “This got bigger too.”

Jon moves the dress down, eyes jumping up to signal that you lift your hips; you oblige, and he gets rid of the dress. Now, the grin is undeniable as his large hands cover the space.

You want to ask him a million questions, most revolving around how he feels about your body’s changes. You speak none of them, wanting him to have the chance to reacquaint himself with the idea of your ever growing child. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest as he bends down to place a kiss above your belly button, and his thumbs continue to stroke your sides when he manages to pull away.

No words leave his lips as he leans in and places kisses along your collarbone then trail up towards your lips, a kiss which clearly signals how thankful he is for you and the family that is being created. Jon cradles your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you, (Y/N).”

Rubbing his biceps, you feel as though he controls every single thing in your world; but you aren’t scared, not anymore. You just feel safe and guarded, sighing with blissful content, “So, you’ll stay here with me?”

You were hitting a mild dry streak in terms of obtaining money. Okay, more like a major dry streak. Your money only was enough to keep your normal necessities going, and frankly you were slowly becoming desperate for the less than necessities in life such as going out to eat, Netflix subscriptions, and new clothing. For a while, you had been keeping your financial mini-crisis a well-kept secret to your fellow coworkers. That’s when the shirt incident occurred.

“Is that my shirt?”

Jumping in your spot next to the kitchen, you spun to find Jon, staring confused at you with a drink in one hand and his laptop bag in the next. Mind fetching a blank, all you could manage back was a very unconvincing and meek ‘Huh?’. Jon was not satisfied.

“{Y/N}, why are you wearing my shirt?”

You blushed, embarrassment on your cheeks. “I...I-”

“Did you take it?”

“No,” you said quickly, biting your lip after in self-frustration. “I mean, yes? Look, I was going to give it back to you eventually, it’s just that...I’m struggling for money lately and...and I miss having new clothes to wear and your clothes are always so nice and...you must hate me.”

Jon smiled softly. “I don’t think anything you could do would make me hate you,” he said, setting his bag down to go up to you. “I am rather confused about one thing, though.”

“Is it why I took your clothes instead of just using mine? Because I don’t really have an answer for you that won’t sound incredibly selfish or desperate.”

Laughing, Jon shook his head. “No, that’s not my question. My question is...why didn’t you just tell me you have been hard pressed for cash lately? I, or heck anyone really, would’ve been more than happy to loan you some until you can get back in the swing of things.”

You frowned. “I wouldn’t want to take your money like that. What if I couldn’t pay it back immediately?”

Jon shrugged and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “{Y/N}, I’m your friend. Your happiness matters to me more than getting back a few extra dollars from you. Besides, it’s not like I’m some mob boss that is going to come and hurt something you love if you don’t have my money. You just try your best to get things going for you again, and whenever you are feeling comfortable again and have the money, I’ll be around. Okay?”

“Ah, look at you!” You squeal, catching Jon taking a selfie for Project BATTMSOWC . “So cute and buff!”

“Pfft, please!” Jon waves your comment away. “Look at these love handles!”

“I know, they’re my favorite!” You tell him. You wrap your arms around him from behind and press a quick to his shoulder. Jon is quiet for a moment before you hear the click of his phone’s camera. You lean around his arm to look at his phone. The picture is of his torso again, but with your arms wrapped around him.

“Do you mind?” Jon asks, about posting it online. You shake your head and hug him tighter before stepping back. 

“Come on, buffy, let’s go eat dinner.” You hold your hand out to him and Jon smiles, taking it and following you downstairs. Later, you check instagram and can’t contain the grin that grows on your face.

“We’re being grown-ups, and we are having thisdinner party,” Jon warned as you rolled your eyes.

“But you made me invite my boss!” you sighed asJon placed lemons into the cart “All of your co-workers are amazing.”

“Not as amazing as you,” Jon smiled, pullingyou in to kiss your forehead.

“Stop trying to butter me up.”

“Never,” he grinned, pulling you towards thenext aisle. You climbed onto the trolley, using the handlebars to steadyyourself. Jon was behind you, pushing you and the trolley towards the nextaisle “Such a child.”

You giggled as you jumped down to pick up thecheeses you needed for dessert. At least the dinner party gave you an excuse todo some baking, and Jon had insisted you made your famous New York cheesecake.

“How much wine am I allowed to buy?” you asked,scanning the shelves “I’ll need a lot to get me through this evening.” Jonexpertly picked a range of bottles, and when his back was turned, you snuckanother bottle in.

I have no excuse for this tbh; I haven’t written in so long I’ve just lost my brain. There’s no names in it AT ALL BUT I SWEAR IT’S ABOUT JON. Also this is for everyone’s sweet little sugarplum RJ :)

Pairing: Jon x reader

Warnings: Could rot your teeth from fluff?