a/n: wrote dean and paige a long time ago – or what feels like a long time ago, anyway – and i've wanted to write them again, i just never really found the right plot, i guess. but all the posts of their joint appearance together on tumblr inspired me to give them a try again. this is based off of a fifty sentence prompt from a soap opera fanfic board i write for. the sentences aren't in any particular order, they're just glimpses of their relationship.

~*~you call the shots, babe~*~

~*~candle~*~

"The candle," Dean murmurs while bouncing on the balls of his feet, like he's about to crawl out of his skin. "Makes it romantic and shit, right? Y'know, even if we're eating cheap-ass food from Mickie D's on your birthday cause every fancy place has closed down?"

~*~temptation~*~

The glimmer of mischief in those dark eyes tells him she swirls her tongue around her lip ring during interviews on purpose because she knows he's watching.

~*~silk~*~

"Payback's a bitch." A panting growl torn from perfect lips as wrists thrash against deep purple binds that hold her arms above her head, keeping her just where he wants her.

~*~fall~*~

"What the fuck are you doing to me?! It's, like, I can't fucking breathe unless you're around!" Steel blue eyes are manic as they search bottomless brown. "I hate this," A growl ripped from his throat as black lacquered nails tilt his chin upwards. "I hate you, cause fucking damn it, this ain't supposed to happen to me. Wanting someone the way I want you, needing you the way I do. Fucking fuck, Knight, what the hell is this?"

~*~music~*~

Paige giggles at Dean's gruff voice reaches her ear, arms winding around her waist, "Who knew big, bad Dean Ambrose knew all the words to Wonderwall?"

~*~dance~*~

i wonder if anything could feel this real forever/if anything could be this good again

Paige spins Dean around, as if he were the girl, while she sings off-key to 'Everlong' deliriously drunk but even more deliriously in love as their friends laugh in the background, not that she can hear them.

~*~wings~*~

He's never felt lighter, he climbed all the way to the top of that ladder – no Kane in his way this time – and grabbed that fucking briefcase and there she was, right there with him, rearing back to slap Luke Harper across the face, stunning the big man, and paving his way.

~*~ice~*~

"Who put a permanent stick up your ass, Knight?" Gruff and annoyed, but she just continues lacing up her boots, making no attempt at acknowledging him. "What? Did The Bitch Twins steal your clothes again? Cause if you ask me, the whole Lollipop girl get up or whatever, was pretty hot. Seriously, Paige, what the fuck?"

~*~formal~*~

"Isn't it against the law for you to be hotter in a suit than I am in a dress?"

~*~world~*~

the only thing i'll ever ask of you/you've got to promise not to stop when i say when

It's something that's just between them – that line from 'everlong' – when they say their vows in Planet Hollywood's chapel with only their closest friends, her family and his sister and cousin, in attendance.

~*~wait~*~

"You're pretty damn special, Deano," She whispers, throaty voice, softer than he's ever heard as fingers thread through his messy curls. "I'm normally not a very patient person, but for you, I will be."

~*~fever~*~

"Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer... Hey!" Dean yelped as a snotty Kleenex was tossed his direction along with a pitiful attempt at a death glare, which made him laugh and only lead to another Kleenex tossed at him.

~*~hope~*~

"You've got this," Taped wrists pounding on slim shoulders. "You're gonna wipe that smug look off Nikki's face for good tonight, and get that butterfly back," Then one hand slides down, spanning her waist. "So it'll be right here, where it belongs."

~*~promise~*~

"Look, I'm a fucking dick, okay?" Drowned from the rain and shaking because he's only wearing that leather jacket with the orange piping as he stands in the doorway of her apartment in Tampa, about 3,000 miles from his own in Vegas, which is where he is supposed to be. "And that's the only thing I can promise you; that I'm a fucking dick. And an asshole. I'm an asshole, too. I'm gonna drive you crazy and you'll probably hate me 99% of the time, but fuck, I can't get you out of my head and if you're willing to put up with my bullshit, I ain't goin' anywhere."

~*~strength~*~

"Gotcha!" Infuriatingly smug as she pins his brawny frame under her lithe one while they're training before throwing her head back and roaring, as if she's preening for a sold out crowd at RAW or Smackdown.

~*~ring~*~

"A program with me, huh?" Intrigue is written all over the gritty tone. "Wanna put your money where your mouth is, Knight? Nobody's training or practicing for the show tonight. How bout you show me whatcha got?"

~*~lock~*~

The key slides perfectly into the deadbolt and it's so stupid how giddy she feels, because, it's just a freaking key, but deep down she knows it's so much more; other than Roman, she's the only one with a key to his apartment.

~*~lies~*~

She won't call him out about not being a dick and an asshole because the truth is, he is, but more often than not, he isn't; no, instead he's surprisingly sweet a candle being lit for romance even when they're eating Kraft mac and cheese out of mismatched bowls, winning her a giant stuffed unicorn at the carnival fundraiser for Roman's daughter's school, listening to her 'crappy emo shit' and soaking in the tub with her, even when she insists on using her Moonlight Path bubble bath from Bath and Body works, despite growling about smelling like "a fucking bra and panty set from Victoria's Secret."

~*~cold~*~

"Tell anybody I did this," Grumbling as she's suddenly engulfed in leather, Dean having taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders as they walk along the familiar trails at Red Rock. "And I'll deny it till my very last breath."

~*~talk~*~

"Look at these tits," Growled against her decolletage, as teeth bite and lips suck, while she thrashes against the bed, desperate and wanting. "So fucking perfect."

~*~hero~*~

"Do you want to see him?" Teasing and sing-song as Paige steps into the bedroom, Daddy Long Legs spider cupped in her hands. "Don't you fucking dare, Knight! Don't you fucking dare! I swear," High pitched and strangled as Dean moves further back with each step that Paige takes forward. "I'll murder you! You're a fucking hot piece of ass, but I will murder you – straight up, cut you into tiny little pieces – if you come any closer!"

~*~view~*~

Bloody hell, Paige thought, cheeks heating up as she continued watching Dean push himself up and down, handsome features contorted in total concentration. There goes another pair of panties. Fucking hot-as-hell, tosser. Ugh.

~*~highway~*~

"HEY SATAN PAID MY DUES PLAYIN IN A ROCKIN BAND HEY MAMA LOOK AT ME I'M ON MY WAY TO THE PROMISE LAND!"

"Ugh," Roman groaned from the backseat while Paige and Dean continued screaming – he wouldn't dare call it singing – in the front seat, oblivious to him having woken up.

~*~run~*~

He figured everyone would eventually leave – including her – but there she is, walking toward him in this gorgeous black dress (as if she'd wear white) on her father's arm, smiling so bright, it's like staring into the sun.

~*~drink~*~

"You're soooooooo bloody hot, Deaaaaaaaanoooooooo," Stumbling as she drapes herself over him, laughing loudly, as her face falls into his neck. "Have I told you that?" And there go her fingers, tugging on a cheek before her other hand starts groping as he's pulling her dead weight up the stairs. "Fucking Rosa and Fox can't make sure you don't completely lose your shit," He grumbles. "What the hell kind of friends are they?"

~*~fire~*~

They come together the same way after every show; rough, raw, teeth gnashing, hands roaming and grabbing, barely able to keep from ripping at their gear, as the heat – from seeing each other perform – engulfs them to the point of burning, to the point of wanting to crawl into the others skin.

~*~whisper~*~

"Marry me," Soft against the scar running along his shoulder blade. "Make an honest woman outta me and all that mushy stuff. Make me Paige Ambrose."

~*~dream~*~

It's not what little girls dream of; a black dress with a black glittering headband instead of a white dress and veil, the groom wearing pressed jeans and a white shirt with motorcycle boots and not a tuxedo, but it's everything she could have ever wanted.

~*~midnight~*~

"THERE ARE MILLION PEE STICKS IN THIS GODDAMN STORE! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHICH ONE IS THE RIGHT ONE?!"

"IT'S ALMOST ONE IN THE MORNING, AMBROSE, JUST GRAB ONE AND GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE!"

"YOU'RE THE CHICK, SHOULDN'T YOU TELL ME WHCIH FUCKING PEE STICK TO GET, AMBROSE?!"

"I'M GONNA MURDER YOU IF YOU DON'T JUST GRAB A FREAKING TEST AND GET BACK HERE!"

~*~search~*~

"Dark purple sheets shouldn't be this hard to find," Sniffle and there are tears glimmering in those dark eyes and Dean feels panic seizing his bones, because oh my fucking god, she's gonna start to cry and where the fuck is Roman cause he can't handle crying; he really fucking can't.

~*~silence~*~

"Hey," Is what finally breaks the prolonged stretch with the only sound reaching Dean's ears being Paige's soft snoring, as he holds his son – Richard Moxley Knight Ambrose, after Paige's father (his idea) and his old ring name (hers) – for the first time. "Buddy."

~*~sacred~*~

A small three karat diamond ring – more traditional than anyone who knew either of them expected – is what he slides onto her finger, even though, she demanded – weeks before – that he marry her.

~*~forgotten~*~

Dean's never made a big deal about his birthday – a side effect of being more worried about feeding and protecting your little sister – so he didn't expect anything, but when he walks into his apartment with Roman a step behind, there's everyone they know – including his sister and cousin who he hasn't seen in too long – and Paige is in the middle, goofy smile on her face, and party hat sitting jauntily on her head.

~*~body~*~

"Quit it with this 'i'm fat bullshit, you're freaking pregnant, and hot as hell."

~*~red~*~

The shock of vibrant lace – the color of a fire engine – against her pearl skin nearly makes him come in his pants like some fucking horny teenager.

~*~overwhelmed~*~

"When you found out you were gonna be a Dad, did it make you feel like you were gonna throw up every five seconds?" Dean questions as he paces back and forth in his son's unfinished nursery and Roman laughs while shaking his head. "To be honest," The big man says, truth ringing in every syllable. "Yeah, I did."

~*~forever~*~

hello, i've waited here for you/everlong

There's this warm feeling – he can't describe it, put it into words – that curls in his stomach when he listens to the baby monitor next to the bed as Paige sings to Ricky.

~*~breathe~*~

"DON'T FUCKING SAY IT." Strained through gritted teeth as another contraction hits, this one – somehow – harder than the last. "DON'T. YOU. FUCKING. DARE. I WILL FUCKING CUT OFF YOUR DICK, BECAUSE THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, SO DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE, DEAN JONATHAN AMBROSE."

"Yeah, Doc," Dean mumbles fearfully as Paige clams down harder on his hand, almost as if she might break it. "Don't say b-r-e-a-t-h-e. Just say push. Cause I think you'd like to keep your dick, too."

~*~eclipse~*~

He can't explain it, but it's like nothing's ever existed before her, as if everything until she walked into his world, it was just a blur – something under a haze, not quite in focus – but she is color and vibrant and real and something unforgettable.

~*~farewells~*~

Everyone expects her to walk away after Ricky is born, to play the part of the good little wrestling wifey, but instead it's him and he goes out wearing Think Again blazed across his chest, hitting the PTO on Seth for his last win in the ring.

~*~unknown~*~

"A baby..." Barely a whisper as dark eyes bore into steel blue. "Here," As she grabs for his hand, shaking just like hers, and places it on her for-now-flat stomach. "That's a little bit of you and me, Deano. This is bloody insane," A giggle bursting forth as he brings his forehead to rest against hers.

"I got your back..." A pause as a smile, small but so genuine, curls at the seam of his lips. "Ambrose. We're in this together. Even though I have no fucking clue about babies and shit."

~*~box~*~

Leaping out of the box on their first Christmas together is a wriggling German Shepherd with a purple bow wrapped around his neck and lunging for Paige who giggles and shrieks as he laps, enthusiastically, at her face.

Her giggling grows into full on laughter when she sees the name on the dog's collar.

Reigns.

~*~mask~*~

The lace mask covering her eyes makes his dick immediately grow hard and he can already feel every ounce of blood in his body rushing south.

~*~talent~*~

No one has ever made her feel so bloody fucking amazing with just a lap of their tongue.

~*~hurricane~*~

She's nothing less than a whirlwind; with her sharp tongue, with her ability to freeze him out without warning, pouncing on him one moment and the next glaring, giggling and then screaming, but he wouldn't have her any other way.

~*~laugh~*~

"Fuck you, Knight," He growls, smacking her with a pillow, as she rolls while howling because he ran – naked and dripping wet – from the shower when he noticed a spider.

~*~memory~*~

"Possessions put a target on your back..." Something he said – believed – a long time ago when he was a brash and rough bare knuckle brawler trying to crawl his way out of the gutter, but now he's so much more, and now he keeps his memories – a picture of him and Paige from the surprise party, a lock of Ricky's hair, even a watch from Roman – close at all times.

~*~journey~*~

"Your Mom will kill me if she ever finds out I told you about this stuff – about where your middle name comes from, even though she picked it – but what the hell? A Dad and son gotta have secrets and whatever, right, bud? Somethin' just between you and me, don't you think?"

Dean laughs to himself as Ricky just blinks while trying to stick his fist in his mouth.

"How bout I tell you the time I did the 'cinnamon challenge?' That's a little tamer than barbed wire or dog collar matches. But everything I tell you, all of it got me here, in this rocking chair with this ring on my finger and you in my arms."

He shakes his head, grumbling, "I'm such a fucking sap. Thanks a lot, kid."

~*~gravity~*~

It's, like, walking on air for Paige, making the foot long journey while on her father's arm as Dean waits for her at the end of the aisle.

and i wonder

when i sing along with you

if everything could feel this real

if anything could ever be this good again

the only thing i'll ever ask of you

you gotta promise not to stop when i say when

"everlong" - by the foo fighters

soundtrack "everlong" by the foo fighters, which is my personal dean and paige theme