We all go a little mad sometimes. | Dean Ambrose Imagines | Requests: CLOSED (Please read FAQ)
The repetition noise from downstairs interrupted Dean from his slumber. Flinging the comforter from his figure, he sluggishly made his way downstairs as he rubbed his eyes. This had become a reoccurring procedure where Dean would find you hunting through your cabinets at 3 in the morning hoping to fulfill your pregnancy cravings.
Entering the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on the hardwood as you preyed through the refrigerator drawers.
He cocks his head to the side, approaching you from behind. “Whatcha doin’?” He questions with folded arms as he peers down at you.
You tilt your head all the way up looking at him with bug eyes and a container full of whipped cream resting in your lap. “I, Uhm, Well…I got a little hungry” you confess.
The sight of you was quite adorable resulting Dean to scoop you up into his arms and perch you on top of the counter. “You were hungry?” He asks, ghosting his hands across your stomach. “Or the little guy?”
Your cheeks develop a pink tinge from embarrassment causing you to nuzzle your face into Dean’s shoulder. “I ate the rest of the peanut butter and whipped cream in one sitting.”
Dean chuckled, gently massaging your stomach. “You reek of peanut butter.”
You gasp, weakly punching his bicep with the only strength you have. “Dean! Not funny.”
“Hey, Hey. Cool it, woman.” He throws his hands up defensively with a laugh. “Lemme make it up to you, how about I make you a grilled cheese?”
Your brows unknit from the position they were once in and from that point you can’t help but nod your head in agreement with a smile.
Dean spins to the refrigerator, grabbing all the ingredients and it doesn’t take him long until he’s already starting to plate your food.
“You want it cut across or cut into fours?” He questions with his back facing you while he flips the cheese sandwich.
No response.
“(Y/N)?” He questions, peeking over his shoulder only to find you sleeping peacefully on top of kitchen island.
“So much for womb service.” He smirks, cutting the grilled cheese into his liking.
You had met A.J at a previous event the other night and you had finally given in to him pestering you about a date. Grant you, he was offensively impolite and lacked consideration of others but you figured it was more so of his in-ring character that would soon burn out as the night went on.
However, you thought wrong. The entire night consumed of you apologizing to people on behalf of A.J’s actions. He was consistently texting during the movie, proceeded to threaten the individuals whom had politely told him to put his phone away and even went as far as complaining to a manager about how useless the theater staff was.
You were actually astonished that you had strung through making it to dinner with him as you contemplated on excusing yourself to the restroom and dipping through the back door. However, here you were, sitting across from him, listening to yet another conversation about how you should eat more protein and drink less Starbucks coffee to stay awake. The conversation was about to proceed until a much taller gentleman peered over your table, placing down drink coasters for the both of you.
“Good Evening folks, my name is Dean and I’ll be taking care of yo-”
“What the hell are you doing here?!” A.J sneered, glaring up at the waiter. You cocked your head to the side, dumb founded of what was even occurring in front of you.
“Whoa there, frustrated are we?” Dean chuckles, pulling out his notepad. “How about I start you off with some drinks? Take the edge off.” He winks, continuing on. “It is happy hour, 2 for 1 margaritas anyone?"
Despite Dean’s effort into up selling, A.J refused to let him resume his act. "Listen Ambrose, I don’t care if we are in the ring or in a fucking restaurant, I will gladly kick your ass anywhere. Especially after you trying to sabotage my date.”
Dean turns his head, examining your presence completely ignoring A.J’s attempt into threatening him. “M'lady, can I get you anything to drink? Margarita? Martini? Bloody Mary?"
A slight tinge of pink brushed over your cheeks as Dean made eye contact with you. "I’ll have.. uhm, I’ll just have a water, thank you.” You smile, putting your head down in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks.
A.J rolled his eyes, slumping back into his seat. “I’ll have a beer Ambrose, and make it quick."
Dean nods, turning away from your table and mobbing his way to the back of the restaurant as it is a full house on a Saturday.
"So, I’m guessing you know that guy?” You question to A.J, jutting your chin over to Dean whom has been sneaking glances at you.
“It’s a long story.” A.J sighs with a roll of his eyes. Dean makes his way back to your table, placing your water on the coaster and setting a kids cup beside A.J.
“What the hell is this?” A.J shouts, chucking the kid size cup back at Dean.
“Well, I thought since you seem to act like a child, you probably would like to drink like one too.” Dean retorts with a shrug, not even cracking a smile.
You cover your mouth, striving to hold back a giggle only causing A.J to become more irritated.
“I’ve fucking had it.” He announces, rising up from his chair and nearly launching at Dean only to be stopped by the manager of the restaurant.Dean stepped back gracefully as A.J began to cause a scene with the manager. He stooped down to be at level with you, rubbing his ginger tint scruff. “So, uh, you like Pizza? There’s a parlor down the street."
The blush from your cheeks began to appear once again. "I would love too.” You smile, taking Dean’s hand and brushing past A.J.
He was always the first to wake up when he stayed the night at her flat. Mentally commanding himself to go back to bed and absorbed the shared capacity he missed so much when he slept alone.
A soft groan from her lips interrupted his thoughts when she rolled away from the sunlight that was peeking through the blinds.
He pleaded for her not to wake-up, not just yet at least because if she woke up that meant Moxley had to leave. And when he left he wouldn’t see her until 9, which was 12 hours without her. Which is probably why he was so cranky all the time because he’s so anxious to get back to her.
She glimpsed over at the flashing alarm clock before sprinting out of bed. “Shit Mox, why didn’t you tell me my alarm went off?!”
Because I didn’t want to spoil our morning even if it means more to me than it does to you. And maybe, quite possibly, you look cute sleeping.
But he couldn’t tell her that, even if he wanted too mainly because she never had time for his feelings. She was so on-the-go he never even had time to ask her when he would see her next. It’s why every second with her was so precious.
She was pacing her bedroom floor in nothing but her black lace thong and hickeys from last night credit to Mox. He possessively watched her slip on her pencil skirt in a hip swaying motion that mocked his morning wood. His hand slid under the sheet, palming at his prompt package that twitched when she bent over to prey through her closet for her nude pumps.
Her second alarm echoed off the walls signaling her with 15 minutes left to spare interrupting Mox from rubbing one out.
He through the sheet off his bare body and slipped on his boxers that were disbanded last night.
He cleared his throat, brushing a hand across her lower back soothingly. “I'was uh, thinkin.. maybe you could come to one of my matches after you get off tonight?”
She leaned back up from her bent posture, Mox receiving a sweep in the face from her long locks. “Oh goodness, I don’t want to be a distraction.” She says, unashamed with her breast bouncing with her balance as she tries to slip on one of her heels.
Her hand grips onto his muscular shoulder for support, sliding the other one on. “And besides, friends don’t bring their fuck buddy’s to their occupation.”
She was too busy buttoning up her blouse to acknowledge the disappointed look in Mox’s eyes. He was so out of control when it came to her, he hardly even felt like himself anymore. Even if she wasn’t his, he was hers. But what if she decided one day she didn’t want him anymore? That she found a posh, educated, stable guy at her work and not some rugged indie-wrestler.
The peck of her lips suspended his distress thoughts only to have her pull back. “You’re staying the night again, right?”
No. Nope. Absolutely not. I’m ending this before you do. I’m going to be the one to walk away, not you.
Another kiss was sealed to his lips before he could respond. Her tongue brushed along his lower lip in a seductive taunt that obeyed Mox to let her in. Their tongues momentarily danced while her hands found their way to the waistband of his boxers. Mox let out a throaty groan when her hand slipped underneath and grasped his bulge.
“You’ll be here when I come back, yeah?” She whispered against his neck, stamping delicate pecks while she stroked him.
“Y-Yeah.” He managed to get out.
She smiled victoriously, leaning up on her toes to press a closed kiss to his mouth before taking her hand back.
“See you later!” She calls, swinging her luxury purse over her shoulder and strutting out the door.
Dean: Y’know? On the road I’m kinda a big deal, lunatics don’t tend to do laundry and I certainly don’t need anyone to tell me when to do it or how to do it.
You: Fascinating. Are you done rehearsing your wrestling promo or are you gonna finish folding your clothes?
Summary: Sleep was never an option when Dean was home.
Having Dean home came rare and very brief. It was nothing that you didn’t understand though and when he was in the comfort of your shared flat, it only made it more significant. However, him being home also came with minor cons; those being what resulted in your broken sleep.
You do your best to peak over at your nightstand without troubling Dean from his deep slumber as his arm is in a thigh hold around your waist. The alarm clock which projected 12:45 am was nearly blinding and quite mocking considering you haven’t even gotten a full hour of sleep with Dean’s snoring. In all honesty sleeping with Dean was impossible. If it wasn’t the snoring howling in your ear, it was the constant kicking he did or the wet awakening you would receive with his drooling.
Cautiously slithering out of his grip, you tip toe your way out of the room with a pillow clutched underneath your arm.
You felt bad as you made your way downstairs and onto the couch to sleep in peace. It wasn’t his fault he had such fits during the night, however you could not function properly with lack of sleep.
Sighing, you toss the soft cover over your petite frame and lay back onto the stolen pillow from upstairs. Without the interruptions from your lover beside you, your eyelids become heavier and soon you’re knocked out cold.
– You shifted sheepishly as the access for air became more difficult for you to grasp. A large amount of weight felt as if it was suffocating you which interrupted your sleep.
Rubbing your eyes, you weakly prop up onto your elbows only to find Dean’s head nestled into your stomach while his legs are tangled with yours.
You groan, falling back onto the pillow and are soon welcome by his constant snores. He must of woken up in the middle of night and maneuvered on the couch to be with you.
“For the love of go-” you begin only to be stopped by sudden movement from your boyfriend.
Dean’s snores were unexpectedly cut short while his body began to twitch. You hushed your complaining comments as you assumed he was woken by them. He wearily slid his hands around your waist, clinging onto you tighter as he snuggled his head against your stomach.
A blush crept through your cheeks while examining your boyfriend’s sleepish actions. You lace your fingers in and out of his soft curls then slowly dragging your hand along his face to cup his cheek with a gentle stroke.
He openly rests his scruffy face into your palm while sluggishly whispering “love you babe.” Before returning back to sleep.
You were the last to leave the arena the night of a heavy storm. Majority of the make-up department had bolted minutes after the show ended to avoid driving in the rain. To your misfortune, Leslie forgot to leave you the key to the rental car and it was far too late to schedule a new ride.
You huddled under the venue awning as the rain streamed around it. Clutching onto your suitcase to prevent it from blowing with the rapid wind, you use your free hand to check for an available uber or taxi on your phone. However, with the harsh weather conditions it looked unfortunate for you.
Lightning suddenly strikes through the air followed by a roaring rumble that startles your balance. You faintly curse to yourself as you frantically collect your belongings and hurry back inside of the venue.
Your eyes are glued to your phone when he spots you from the corridor. He notices your hair a bit damp and your jacket coated with spots from the rain.
He clears his throat, throwing his backpack over his shoulder as he makes his way towards you. “(Y/N)..?”
You pluck your attention away from your phone as you turn towards the raspy voice, the knot in your stomach slowly forming. “Dean, Hi!”
His matted curls reflect off his forehead as he cocks his head to the side. “What’re you still doing here?”
Sighing, you refresh the uber app on your phone in hopes of any availability of a driver. “Leslie rode with Stephanie and took my rental key with her. I’m hoping to get an uber within the next hour.”
Scoffing, Dean grasps your suitcase and juts his chin toward the door. “C'mon.”
“I’m sorry?” You ask, a little dumbfounded.
He’s halfway out the door while rolling your luggage behind him. “Let’s go, kid. I don’t wanna hit traffic.”
It takes you a moment to comprehend what is occurring and the pit in your stomach begins to fasten when he’s holding the door open for you.
You follow Dean out to the awning where he pauses when he’s aware of the rain pouring rapidly.
He turns to you, sliding his backpack off and placing it beside your feet, chuckling at your dingy Sk8-Hi top vans.
“M'gonna go get the car, stay put.” He states, throwing his hoodie over his head before jogging down the parking lot.
You stand there awkwardly, intellectually attempting to tame all the swift thoughts in your head. It’s not long until he’s pulling the car in front of you, drawing you away from your mental diary. You go to gather up the bags only to be stopped by Dean.
“Nah, I got it. Go warm up in the car.” He says, taking your suitcase and swinging his backpack over his shoulder.
You were about to thank him until another voice echoed from the parking lot.
“Dean, hey! Wait up man!” Seth calls jogging through the pouring shower.
“What’s so important that you needed to Baywatch through a storm? Couldn’t you have texted me?” Dean chuckles.
Seth immediately scoffs, unaware of your presence as you keep hidden behind Dean’s larger figure. “You barely know how to work a phone, don’t kid yourself.”
It’s when Dean shrugs his shoulders that Seth finds a glance of your appearance, slightly embarrassed that he assumed he interrupted a moment between you and Dean. “Oh, hey (Y/N). Didn’t expect to see ya there.”
You give him a slight smile, feeling a bit awkward.
Seth turns to Dean, mumbling “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” In hopes of it being a faint whisper but you’re aware of the words even with the rain becoming heavier.
Dean shakes his curls, clearing his throat to cut the tension. “Nah, just giving the kid a ride home. Didn’t want her stranded here.” He says, before nudging Seth. “What’s up though?”
Seth gives you and Dean an uncertain look, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just, uh, wanted to see if we were still up for the gym tomorrow.”
Dean nods, giving Seth a pat to the shoulder. “Yeah man, of course.”
“Great! Well you guys have a goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow man.” Seth asserts before politely excusing himself back to his car.
Dean’s attention turns back towards you as another struck of lightning appears through the sky. “C'mon, before the rain gets any worse.”
–
“So.” Seth grunts, benching a weight against his chest as Dean spots above him. “Did she give you a ride?”
Dean scoffs, peering down at his sweaty friend. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
Seth continues pressing the weights to his chest not phased by Dean’s dismal. “(Y/N).”
“What about her?” Dean questions.
Another grunt escapes from Seth’s lips while he lifts the metal bar up and down in a routine. “Listen, she’s cute there’s no argument there but you need to be careful.”
Dean’s hands hoist the bar back onto the plate holder. “What are you getting at Seth?”
“Look, when you were graduating high school, she was celebrating her 8th birthday.” He says sternly, catching Dean completely off guard.
“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. You think I’m trying to nail the kid?” He spits.
Seth throws his hands up defensively, refusing to stir the pot. “As your friend, I’m telling you people talk around here.”
“And? What if I was interested in her? What are they going to do? Do a shoot interview about me?” Dean says, clearly annoyed at this point.
“I’m just saying man,” Seth begins calmly. “It just doesn’t look right. A 20 year old girl dating a 31 year old guy. How do you think the media would see it? Let alone if management found out, you’d be pulled from live shows immediately. Not to mention meet and greets, signings, press con-”
“Okay, I get it.” Dean cuts his friend off, irritated by all the possibilities of what could happen to his career.
“I’m just trying to look out for you.” Seth objects, going back to his routine.
Dean sat there momentarily shaming himself for even thinking about possibly asking a girl on a date. He excuses himself from the facility, mentioning to Seth he was going to hit the showers.
He surged down the hallway, avoiding anyone in sight as they were possibility already gossiping about his encounter with a girl half his age. It’s when he hears the delicate voice from behind him that stops him in his path.
Your sneakers scuffed against the pavement as you caught up to Dean, a little out of breath as he was walking at a fast pace. “I just wanted to thank you for yesterday.” You begin, smiling through a breathy statement.
He nods his head with no words followed, goggling his eyes at anyone looking insight.
“I mean, it’s not everyday that a guy takes care of you when you’re drunk and offers you a ride to your hotel the next day.” You smile, blabbering on.
He’s mentally praying that no one is looking longer than a glance. “Yeah, well, maybe it’ll be a reoccurring thing when find a guy your own age.” He states bluntly, avoiding eye contact with you.
His clear expression leaves a slight sting to your esteem and you try your hardest to dismiss it. “Right. Well, I was thinking maybe we cou-”
“We?” He snaps, finally making eye contact with you.
His sudden cold shoulder recoils your stance, and you immediately want to dig yourself a hole to crawl into.
“Listen, kid.” He says harshly, a little overwhelmed by longing stares from a few divas and talent agents. “Maybe, you took my kindness out of context but, I’m not interested. There’s plenty of guys down in the rookie playpen though.”
You roll your lips between your teeth, pressing down unpleasantly as you hold back a few tears.
You mentally beg yourself not to cry, not to make an even bigger fool in front of him.
You clear your throat awkwardly, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Right, I-uh, I guess I got a little ahead of myself.” You mutter. “I apologize.”
Dean nods in acceptance, trying his hardest to not apologize for being an asshole as people were still staring at the two of you. “Glad we’re on the same page, I’ll see ya around kid.”
Can you imagine Dean sneaking up behind you and smacking your ass so hard that you fall forward on your face. Then you get up and scold him and he’s all, “I thought it was funny.”
Summary: Housesitting for Dean had its perks, his house was beautiful, quiet and relaxing when it came to studying compared to your dorm or the lecture hall. However, your friends convince you to throw a party at his bachelor pad only to have Dean crash the party.
