I Can Wait

The reader won’t tell Sheamus what’s bothering her.

Pairing: Sheamus x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: angst, talk of non-smut

Word Count: I have no idea, wrote this on the fly

Note: Wrote something I needed to hear. Thought maybe a few of you out there could benefit from it too. Reactions and feedback much appreciated. 

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Through the dark in the room, you could hear every puff of your breath, every rustle of the trees outside your window, and every squeak of the bed as you tried to find a comfortable position. 

Never enough. Always in the way. I can’t give him what he wants. 

The pillow beneath your face was wet where it had once been cool. There wasn’t even a point to wipe away a single tear. Not that you had the energy anyway. 

When the door creaked open, you shut your eyes feigning sleep. The sound of stride let you know it wasn’t Alexa, who had agreed to be your roommate. 

“Y/N? Are ya asleep, lass?” He waited for your reply. If you hadn’t forgotten to breathe in your attempt to remain absolutely still, maybe he would have just gone to bed. “Y/N,” he sighed. The bed dipped beside you and his large warm hand rubbed over your back where it was uncovered by the sheets. He lightly tugged on your shoulder until you rolled over to look at him. The light he turned on blinded you for a second, then all you could see was him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

How could you?

Everything you could say about how inadequate you felt for him, or how your blood froze and burned when he touched you, or the all the blinding fear about your future, it would only make him blame himself. For every time he wasn’t there to comfort you. To make you smile. To hold you. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault. But your fears would only solidify his blame. 

“I’m just tired.”

Sheamus shook his head. “That may be true, but that is not everything.” He cupped your face and ran his thumb up and across your cheekbone. “You can tell me anything.” 

You bit your lip. It was all there. At the tip of your tongue. Waiting. Maybe if you drew blood it would wash away what he deserved to hear.

“Y/N?”

“I can’t,” you finally blurted. “I can’t hurt you.” You tried to roll back over, but Sheamus’s gentle grip on your shoulder made it so you could only turn your head. “Let’s try in the morning.”

“You are always going to say that.” Sheamus looked off into the darkness outside the window. “What is that verse your dad quoted at me the last time we met? ‘Don’t let the sun set on your anger.’ Whether or not if you’re mad at me or you think I’m mad at you, it’s already night. And I’m not going to sleep until I know what is tumbling around in your mind.”

You swallowed the dry taste in your mouth.

“I can’t give you what you deserve.”

His brow furrowed. 

“You deserve,” you tried again, “you deserve someone who can take care of your… needs.”

His eyes closed as he realized. “I don’t need anything like that. You told me on our very first date that sex was off the table. Unless I liked you so much that I put a ring on ya,” he chuckled. He sighed when you didn’t even smile. “You laid your boundaries. And I am not going to cross them.”

“But I want to,” you choked out. “In that pause when we are standing so close to one another and I can almost feel your heart beating, I want to. I get so close and my heart feels like it’s soring and crashing all at once. But something always keeps me back. At this point, I don’t know if it’s my faith or my fear. Or both. If I give you that piece of me and something breaks down the line, will I lose you and myself?” The tears were running freely now. Hot and blurring your vision. “There’s like an unshakable weight every time we’re out together. When we smile at each other in our way and everyone shares that look with each other.”

“Then don’t look at them,” Sheamus said. “I stopped looking a long time ago. All I see when we share those looks is you. All I see right now… is you.” He gave your hand a squeeze.

Your chest hurt so tight you almost wished it would burst. When the sob finally ripped from your throat you curled up into his chest. You twisted the fabric of his shirt around your fingers. Breathed deeply to feel his hands on your back better. 

“I can’t give all of myself to you.”

“Then don’t. I am perfectly, blissfully over the moon with what I have right now.” He angled your face up towards his. “You. In my arms. Telling me your worries so I can do what I can to show you how much I love you.”

You pulled his face down to kiss you. You didn’t want to breathe; you wanted to tell him how thankful you were that he was listening even though you had no more words. He rocked back and forth with you. His warm hands cupped your face, wiping away the tears that had turned to ice on your flushed skin. Your fingers worked their way under his sleeves, feeling how his shoulders flexed under your touch. You shivered and retracted your touch to stay only over the fabric.

Sheamus leaned back and removed his shirt. “You can feel me, lass. You can leave your clothes on, and if it makes you uncomfortable I can put mine back on.” He pressed his cheek against yours and whispered into your ear, “it’s okay, Y/N.”

“My nails are long. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” 

When you were finished making out several minutes later, you curled into Sheamus’s chest. His breathing steadied, steadying you. He ran his fingers through your hair, muttering soothing things in Irish. Before long, you were asleep. 


The next morning he left you asleep and met Seth in the hotel work-out room. 

“Damn, Sheamus.” He nodded at the bright red hash marks on his shoulders peeking out from under his tank top. “How hard did you guys go last night?”

“We didn’t. You know we’re not like that.”

Seth shook his head and continued prepping the weights. “You know, even if you would ask her father for permission next week it’s going to take six months at least before the wedding is done. And it’ll probably be closer to a year.”

“I know. I’m not worried.” Sheamus grunted as he started some bicep curls. “It doesn’t matter if I ask him in a month or in another year.”

Seth waited for him to say more. “And why is that?” he prompted. 

Sheamus grinned. “When she’s ready, then I’m ready. Until then, I can wait.”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags:  @blondekel77 @laochbaineann @hallemichelles @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @tinyelfperson @zuni21798 

Sheamus/WWE Tags:  @a-home-for-stray-stories @crossfit-princess-sethie-boo @flightofthefantasies @kaleywwefan @mother-forker @neversatisfiedgirl @racheo91 @roman-reigns-princess @savmontreal @secretagentfangirl @thetherianthropydaily @wwe-smutfics @1dluver13xx @barioncethlenn @coldmidnightlights @deidrelovessheamus @denise8691 @dirtydeeds-spear-curbstomp @jessica91073 @laraneia @ledmemangociana @shayscorpio @thessawea @wwesmutdonedirtcheap 

Compromise

The Reader tries to give blood, but there are complications. Dick and the Reader have a heart-to-heart to come to a compromise about donating.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Warnings/Promises: giving blood, passing out, mention of unfriendly needles, food mention, fluff, angst

Word Count: 880

Note: I tried to give blood the other day and it did not go well. The circumstances are a little different in the fic, but here’s hoping it connects with a few of you. Please let me know if it did, or if you have your own donation stories. All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Please enjoy!

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(Credit to here; I couldn’t find a better gif elsewhere. Thank you!)

A harsh white light filled your sight as you blinked. Blurry figures flittered in and out of your vision, slowly congealing into nurses as they moved around other participants. One figure hovered closer than the others. They were saying something but hearing and understanding took a few more seconds.

“Y/N? Wake up, please. Can you hear me? Y/N?” Dick’s face came into focus and you smiled. He was in his police uniform.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” You tried to lift your hands to cup his face, but it hurt too much to lift your left arm.

Dick glanced down at your arm and kept you from moving it. “One of the guys on duty recognized you and called me on dispatch when you passed out. What are you doing here?”

“Giving blood.” Oh yeah. Lightheadedness and then darkness. “Or trying too.”

As the nurse began to check the wrap on your arm, you made the mistake of looking down. Your vision swam again seeing the quick bruising around the needle site. Dick turned your face back to look at him. His eyes glinted with a flash of panic.

“No. Breath with me.” He led you through a breathing exercise, distracting you from… everything. By the time the nurse pulled your billowy sleeve down to cover the site you were both calmer.

“You’re good to go,” she said. “We got almost a full pint, so we should still be able to use it. Thank you for trying.” She handed you an ice-cold apple juice and spoke to Dick. “Give her a few minutes before letting her up. She’s probably going to be unstable for a hot second.”

Dick shook his head as the nurse went to help another donator. “I thought you weren’t going to try again?”

“But I want to help!” You wriggled to sit up a bit, then realized how leaned back they had you. “The last time was only bad because I tried it with my right arm last time. It was too thin and…”

“And the needle went through your vein. And you were bruised for over two weeks. And you have passed out or nearly passed out every time you’ve given, if you were even successful.” He sighed and rested his forehead on yours. “I don’t want you to keep risking your health.”

You snorted. “Like you don’t do that every day wearing either of your blue uniforms. Dick, I may not be able to fight the bad guys like you do, but I can give blood every once in a while. What’s a quick nap if I can help someone?” You studied his face. “Why does this scare you so much? You know I am safe here. It’s not Gotham.”

“I know, it’s just…” Dick looked around the room. “When you pass out, there’s nothing I can do to help you. You have to wake up on your own, and that scares me.” He gave your right hand a short tight squeeze. “I can’t save you.”

He looked guilty. Like it was his fault that your body was so adamant about not giving. Like it was his fault that you hadn’t told him you were going to try again. You felt guilty for not telling him.

“How about this?” You gathered your thoughts as Dick watched you intently. “You don’t like it, but I’m just as stubborn as you are so I’m going to keep trying. But I’ll tell you next time. We’ll make a day of it. You can take me to lunch, stay with me and hold my hand during the donation, and then take care of me afterward. You can save me by making sure my system is ready.” You bit your bottom lip when Dick didn’t react at first. “Thoughts? Worries? Suggestions?”

Dick’s temples flexed as he clenched his jaw. “You’re right. I don’t like it.”

“Richard,”

“And you’re right again. You are stubborn enough to keep trying.” He thought for a few more seconds. “I understand why you want to give. And I’m glad you see my side of things.” Again he paused. You fought against holding your breath. “I’ll ask off on days you want to donate, but I would like to keep it closer to four months between donations instead of the usual two allowed.”

“So you miss less work. I can agree to that.” You smiled. Dick did too.

“Cool. I would also like to take you to a doctor to see if we can do something different so you don’t pass out.” Dick looked away and mumbled under his breath, “and if they tell you not to give, all the better. Less stress all around.”

“I heard that,” you said at the same whisper level. You giggled. “If we are in agreement… where are you taking me for lunch?”

He laughed. “How about the Mediterranean place on Fourth? They have a great lentil soup with spinach. The best iron foods in one place for a hero.”

“Sounds good.” You leaned into his touch and he ran his thumb across your cheek. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Back at you. Now let’s see how many packages of Oreos we can get away with before they run us out of the joint.”

Masterlist 

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