𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐧 (+𝟏𝟖)
(𝐉𝐞𝐲 𝐔𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
Summary: Summary: After weeks of being separated by WWE travel and long-distance calls, Jey Uso and his girlfriend lean on late-night conversations to stay connected. When she secretly flies out to surprise him backstage after a match, their emotional reunion reminds both of them that no amount of distance can change how much they mean to each other.
A/N: I’ve been sooo out of wack it’s must be something in the air, but I hope you guys enjoy. Leave some love and comments would love to hear 🧡
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The hotel room was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner and the distant noise of traffic outside the window. WWE shows were always loud, chaotic, full of people yelling his name, cameras flashing, everybody wanting a piece of Jey Uso.
But the second he got back to the room alone, all of that energy disappeared.
You were stretched deep in a bubble bath three states away, your phone balanced carefully on a folded towel beside the tub while steam curled around the bathroom mirrors. Your music was low in the background. Soft. Calm. Completely opposite from the night he just had.
Your screen lit up.
JEY ❤️
You smiled instantly before answering. “There he is.”
On the other side, you heard shuffling, the sound of a bag hitting the floor, then his tired voice.
“Hey, baby.”
Just hearing him say it made your shoulders relax.
“You sound exhausted.”
“Mm.” He flopped onto the hotel bed with a groan. “Crowd was hot tonight though.”
“You win?”
“You already know I did.”
You laughed softly. “There he go.”
“Don’t do that,” he muttered, but you could hear the grin in his voice now.
For a second neither of you said anything. You just listened to each other breathe through the phone like people who missed each other too much.
Jey finally broke the silence. “What you doin’?”
You sank lower into the bubbles. “Bath.”
“A bath?”
“Mhm.”
“That explains why you sound all relaxed an’ shit while I’m over here barely alive.”
“You chose wrestling.”
“And I choose you too,” he said immediately.
That made you smile harder than it should’ve.
You heard him shifting around, probably laying flat across the hotel bed now, one arm over his eyes. You could picture it perfectly at this point. The black compression shirt half peeled off, chains still hanging from his neck because he was too tired to take them off yet.
“You celebrate with everybody after?” you asked quietly.
“Nah.”
“No?”
“Nah. Ain’t really feel like it.”
Your expression softened a little.
He continued after a second. “Everybody went out. Jimmy kept tryna drag me with ‘em.” He paused. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
The bathroom suddenly felt warmer.
“Jey…”
“I’m serious.” His voice got lower. More honest. “Whole arena loud as hell tonight, but I still kept thinkin’ about callin’ you after.”
You stared up at the ceiling, trying not to melt completely.
Long distance had been hard in ways nobody else really understood. The missed flights. The time zones. Falling asleep on FaceTime. Watching him through a screen while thousands of people got to stand right in front of him every week.
But moments like this made it feel manageable.
“You know what I hate?” he suddenly asked.
“What?”
“That after the shows… I can’t come home to you.”
The words sat heavy between you.
You swallowed softly. “I know.”
“I be seein’ everybody with their people backstage. Then I get back here by myself.” A pause. “Don’t like that shit.”
You traced lazy circles through the bubbles with your fingers. “I don’t like it either.”
Another silence.
Not awkward. Never awkward.
Just longing.
Then his tone shifted slightly. “Lemme see you.”
You laughed. “Boy, I’m in a bath.”
“And?”
“You are ridiculous.”
“I’m deprived, baby.”
“Deprived is crazy.”
“Man, turn the camera on.”
You shook your head smiling anyway, finally switching to video.
The second his face appeared, your chest tightened a little.
He looked tired with his damp curls pushed back, gold chain against his chest, hoodie half unzipped, but the second he saw you surrounded by bubbles his entire expression softened.
“Damn,” he murmured.
“What?”
“You just look pretty sittin’ there.”
Your face warmed immediately.
Meanwhile he stared at the screen like it physically hurt not being able to touch you.
“You got all them bubbles and still got me losin’ my mind.”
“Jey.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but he caught the smile you were trying to hide.
“There it is,” he said quietly. “Miss that smile.”
Your heart squeezed painfully.
“You’ll see it in person soon.”
“When?”
“Two weeks.”
“Too long.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“I’m flyin’ to you the second I’m done with SmackDown.”
“You said that last time.”
“An’ I meant it last time too.”
You laughed again, and for the first time all night, he looked fully relaxed.
The room stayed dim around him while steam fogged your camera slightly. Thousands of miles apart, but somehow it still felt intimate. Like you were sharing the same night together.
Jey looked at you for another long second before speaking softer this time.
“Stay on the phone with me till you fall asleep?”
You nodded immediately.
“Always.”
You stayed on the line with him, the phone propped against the edge of the tub as the bubbles slowly dissolved around you. His breathing had evened out a little, but he wasn't asleep. You could tell by the way he kept shifting, the rustle of sheets, the occasional low hum when he adjusted the phone.
“You comfortable?” he asked.
“Mhm.” You let your head fall back against the rim of the tub. “Water’s startin’ to cool though.”
“Get out then.”
“I know.” But you didn’t move. You just liked hearing him there, even through a speaker.
“You gonna let me watch?”
Your eyes snapped open. “Jey.”
“What?” He sounded innocent, but you knew better. “I’m just sayin’. You been in there a while. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with lookin’ at what’s mine.”
“Yours?”
“Mmhm.” The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “You know you mine.”
You bit your lip, not answering right away. The steam had mostly cleared, leaving your skin damp and slick, water beading along your collarbone. The bubbles had thinned enough that the outline of your body was visible beneath the surface.
“You see somethin’ you like?” he murmured.
“Maybe.”
“Let me see more.”
Your heart kicked. You knew where this was headed, the same way it always did when the nights got late and the distance felt too wide. He’d get that hunger in his voice, low and rough, and you’d let him talk you into things that made your cheeks burn for hours after.
“Camera’s fogged up,” you said weakly.
“Wipe it off.”
You hesitated, then reached out and dragged your finger across the lens. His face cleared on the screen, and then his view of you cleared too — shoulders bare, water lapping just below your chest, nipples pebbled from the cooling air.
His breath caught.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Jey…”
“Nah, don’t ‘Jey’ me. You knew what you was doin’ takin’ a bath and callin’ me.”
“You called me.”
“Same difference.” He shifted, and you heard the soft clink of his chain against the headboard. The camera tilted as he propped himself up, his face filling the screen again. Dark eyes, heavy-lidded, focused entirely on you. “Stand up.”
“The water’s—”
“Stand up, baby. Let me see you.”
Your thighs pressed together under the water. Slowly, gripping the edges of the tub, you rose. Water cascaded down your body in rivulets, splashing back into the bath. Droplets clung to your skin, catching the dim bathroom light. You stood there, exposed, water sliding between your breasts, down your stomach, over the curve of your hips.
His jaw tightened.
“Turn around.”
You obeyed, feeling his gaze like a physical weight on your back. The water ran down your spine, over the swell of your ass. You heard him exhale, long and shaky.
“Goddamn.”
You glanced over your shoulder at the phone. “This what you wanted?”
“You know it is.” His voice had dropped an octave, rough with need. “Now come here. Bring the phone to the bed.”
You stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel but not using it. Water dripped onto the tile as you padded to the bedroom, phone held in front of you. You set it against a pillow, then climbed onto the mattress, lying on your side facing the camera.
He was watching you like you were the only thing in the world.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he said quietly.
“Show me.”
A low sound escaped his throat, half laugh, half groan. “You tryna kill me tonight?”
“Maybe.” You let your hand drift down your stomach, fingers trailing through the moisture still on your skin. “You sound like you need to relax.”
“I need a lot more than that.”
You smiled, slow and teasing. “Then take what you need.”
His eyes darkened. The camera shifted as he adjusted his position, and then his hand came into frame, sliding down his chest, past the chain, lower. His abs tensed. He didn’t break eye contact with the lens.
“Touch yourself for me,” he said.
Your breath hitched. Your hand moved lower, fingers brushing your clit. You were already wet from more than the bath. A soft moan escaped your lips.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let me hear you.”
You circled your clit slowly, watching his face contort with pleasure as his hand worked himself in rhythm. The sound of his breathing, harsh and uneven, filled the space between you.
“Faster,” he ordered.
You obeyed, your hips bucking against your own hand. The pressure built, coiling low in your belly. His name fell from your lips like a prayer.
“I’m close,” you gasped.
“Look at me when you come.”
Your eyes locked onto his. The connection, even through a screen, was electric. Your orgasm crashed through you, your back arching, cry muffled against your own wrist.
He followed a moment later, a guttural groan, his body shuddering on the hotel bed.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just heavy breathing and the soft crackle of the phone speaker.
Finally, he let out a breathy laugh. “I needed that.”
You giggled, still catching your breath. “Me too.”
He paused, then added softly, “I love you.”
Your chest swelled. “I love you too, Jey.”
“Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight.”
You ended the call, stared at the ceiling, and felt the ache of missing him settle back into your bones.
———
The next week felt painfully slow.
Every phone call with Jey ended the same way.
“Soon.”
“Soon,” you’d repeat back.
But neither of you realized how soon.
—
The arena was loud enough to shake the floor beneath your shoes.
Production crew members rushed around with headsets, wrestlers moved in and out of gorilla position, TVs played the live broadcast overhead, and somewhere in the building the crowd started chanting Jey’s name so loudly it echoed through the hallway.
You stood tucked behind a stack of production crates trying not to smile too hard.
One of the crew members looked over at you. “He has no idea you’re here?”
You shook your head.
“Nah.”
“That man’s about to lose his mind.”
Probably.
You had landed only an hour earlier after coordinating the whole thing with one of the women from production. Jey thought you were at home. Meanwhile you’d been sitting backstage the entire show wearing one of his hoodies with your overnight bag hidden in the staff office.
The closer his match got, the more nervous you became.
Not because you were unsure about him.
Because you missed him so bad it almost hurt.
The crowd suddenly exploded.
You looked toward the monitor just in time to hear:
“YEET!”
Your stomach flipped instantly.
There he was.
Jey came through the curtain on screen with all his usual energy, hyping up the crowd, chains swinging against his chest while thousands of people screamed for him.
And somehow seeing him in person after weeks apart felt different than watching on television.
More real.
More overwhelming.
You folded your arms tightly over yourself trying not to get emotional.
One of the makeup artists beside you smiled knowingly. “Yeah… that reunion about to be crazy.”
You laughed quietly. “Probably.”
—
By the time the match ended, the arena was deafening.
Jey had won.
Again.
You watched him celebrate in the ring for a moment before slipping away from the monitor and heading closer toward the backstage entrance where he’d come through the curtain.
Your heartbeat was ridiculous now.
Then suddenly—
The curtain burst open.
Jey walked through sweaty and breathless, still full of adrenaline while people patted his shoulders and yelled congratulations around him.
“Good shit, Uce!”
“Crazy match!”
He laughed, talking back to everybody, until his eyes landed on you.
And he stopped moving completely.
Like his brain genuinely couldn’t process what he was seeing.
The hallway noise faded around you.
You smiled slowly. “Hey.”
“…What?”
You laughed harder at the stunned look on his face.
“What, you don’t recognize me?”
He stared for another full second before immediately pushing past everybody toward you.
The second he reached you his arms wrapped around your waist so fast you squealed, nearly losing balance as he lifted you clean off the floor.
“Baby!” he shouted, laughing into your neck.
You buried your face against him instantly, breathing him in while he held you impossibly tight.
“You here?!” he kept saying. “You actually here?!”
“Yes!”
“When did you get here?”
“Like an hour ago—”
“You sneaky as hell!”
You laughed harder as he finally set you down only to grab your face immediately afterward, staring at you like he still didn’t believe it.
“You serious right now?”
“Mhm.”
“Man…”
The look in his eyes almost melted you right there backstage.
He leaned down and kissed you hard without caring who saw.
Crew members instantly started yelling and hyping in the background.
Jey barely acknowledged any of them. His forehead stayed pressed against yours while he grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.
“You got me messed up right now,” he muttered.
“You happy to see me?”
“You know damn well I am.”
Then quieter:
“I missed you so much.”
That softness in his voice hit harder than anything else.
You rubbed your thumb against his jaw gently. “I know.”
He kissed you again, slower this time, one hand sliding around your waist possessively like he needed constant reassurance you were actually there.
And honestly?
You needed the same thing.
—
The hotel room felt completely different with you in it.
Warmer.
Lived in.
Your shoes were kicked off near the door, your overnight bag sat open on the chair, and Jey couldn’t stop touching you long enough to even properly settle down.
The second the door closed behind you both, he grabbed you again.
“Come here.”
You laughed breathlessly. “Jey—”
“I’m serious.”
He backed you gently against the door, kissing you like he’d been thinking about it for weeks, because he had.
One hand rested on your waist while the other cupped your jaw carefully, like despite all the intensity he still wanted to be gentle with you.
“You know how hard that was?” he murmured against your lips.
“What?”
“Seeing you backstage lookin’ all good an’ not bein’ able to disappear immediately.”
You smiled. “You’re dramatic.”
“Nah.” He kissed your cheek. “I was sufferin’.”
You laughed softly, but it faded the second he looked at you again.
Because underneath all the jokes and flirting, there was something almost emotional in his expression.
Like he still couldn’t fully believe you were there.
“You really surprised me,” he said quietly.
“I wanted to.”
“Best surprise I ever got.”
Your chest tightened instantly.
He pulled you toward the bed with him until both of you collapsed onto the mattress laughing softly. The room finally got quiet after all the arena noise, all the travel, all the distance.
Now it was just you and him.
Jey laid on his back pulling you against his chest while his fingers lazily traced up and down your spine.
“This way better than celebrating,” he muttered.
You looked up at him. “You sure?”
“Baby.” He kissed the top of your forehead. “I got everything I wanted right here.”
The hotel room fell quiet around them, the muffled noise of the city far below nothing but a distant hum. Jey's fingers kept moving along her spine, slow and lazy, like he was memorizing the shape of you through the fabric of his hoodie you still wore. You could feel his heartbeat under her cheek, steady now, no longer racing from the match.
You tilted your head up to look at him. His eyes were already on you, dark and soft in the dim light from the bedside lamp.
“What?”
He didn't answer. Just brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a gentleness that made your chest ache.
“I really missed you,” he said again, like he needed to hear it twice.
You reached up and touched his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of stubble. “I know. I missed you too.”
He turned his head and kissed your palm, then her wrist. His lips lingered on her pulse point, and she felt it flutter under his mouth.
Slowly, he rolled them over until he was above her, braced on his forearms, looking down at her. The weight of him felt good, solid, real.
“You don't know how many nights I laid in some random hotel bed thinkin' about this,” he said, voice low. “About havin' you right here under me.”
She slid her hands up his chest, over the compression shirt still clinging to his skin. “Show me.”
He leaned down and kissed her, deep and slow, his tongue sweeping into her mouth like he had all the time in the world. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
The kiss broke only so he could sit back on his heels, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it off in one motion, tossing it somewhere behind him. His skin gleamed under the lamp light, sweat still drying from the match, every muscle defined. She reached for him, palms flat against his stomach, feeling the heat of him.
“Your turn,” he said, tugging gently at the hoodie she wore. She sat up enough to let him peel it off, then the tank top underneath. His eyes traveled down her body, slow, deliberate.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You so beautiful.”
She felt her cheeks warm, but she didn't look away. She reached for the button of his jeans, and he helped her push them down his hips along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, already hard, the tip glistening. She wrapped her hand around him, stroking once, twice, and he let out a low groan.
“Nah,” he said, catching her wrist. “Not yet. I wanna taste you first.”
He guided her back onto the mattress, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. She lifted her hips, and he pulled them down, along with her panties, baring her completely. The air hit her wet skin, and she shivered.
He settled between her thighs, spreading them wide with his hands. The lamp light caught the slickness of her, and he let out a sound that was almost a growl.
“Look at you,” he muttered. “All wet for me already.”
She bit her lip as he lowered his head. The first touch of his tongue against her clit made her gasp, her hips bucking instinctively. He held her down with a firm hand on her stomach, his tongue circling slow, teasing.
“Oh god, Jey.”
He hummed against her, the vibration sending sparks through her whole body. He licked from her entrance up to her clit, then back down, lapping at her like he was savoring every drop. His tongue pressed flat against her, then pointed, flicking at the sensitive nub until she was writhing.
He slid two fingers inside her without warning, curling them just right. Her back arched off the bed.
“That feel good, baby?” he asked against her thigh, his breath hot.
“Yes—fuck—don't stop.”
He didn't. He pumped his fingers in and out while his mouth worked her clit, alternating between sucking and licking. Her moans filled the room, loud and breathless, and he seemed to feed on them, going harder, faster.
She felt the pressure building, coiling tight in her belly. Her hand fisted in his hair, pulling him closer.
“I'm gonna—Jey, I'm—”
“Come for me,” he said, his voice muffled but commanding.
And she did, her orgasm crashing through her, her cry sharp as her thighs clamped around his head. He kept licking through it, drawing it out until she was trembling, oversensitive.
He finally lifted his head, chin glistening, a satisfied smirk on his face. He crawled up her body, kissing his way over her stomach, between her breasts, up her neck.
“You taste so fuckin' good,” he murmured against her ear.
She was still catching her breath, but she reached down between them, wrapping her hand around his cock again. This time he didn't stop her. He was slick with pre-cum, and she spread it down his length.
“I want you inside me,” she said.
He didn't need to be told twice. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her wet folds. He looked into her eyes.
“You ready?”
“Yes.”
He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, her body stretching to accommodate him. She gasped at the fullness, her nails digging into his shoulders. He paused once he was fully sheathed, letting her adjust.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he said, voice strained.
Then he began to move.
Slow at first, long deep strokes that hit all the right spots. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. He lowered his head, kissing her, swallowing her moans. His pace built, faster, harder, the bed creaking beneath them.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
She opened her eyes, met his gaze. The connection was electric, raw, intimate. Sweat slicked his brow, his muscles tensed with every thrust.
“I love you,” he said, the words punched out with each stroke.
“I love you too,” she gasped.
He shifted angle, and she cried out as he hit a deeper spot. His hand slid between them, thumb pressing against her clit, and she shattered again, clenching around him, her orgasm triggering his. He buried himself deep with a groan, spilling inside her, his body shuddering.
For a long moment, they just lay there, tangled together, breathing hard. He pulled out slowly and collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. His hand stroked her hair.
“I ain't ever lettin' you leave again,” he murmured.
She smiled against his skin.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed. Leave some love and comments. PEACE & LOVE
- Zira Amore
