[A/N: If this seems familiar to any of you, that's because I posted it on an old FF account of mine. I deleted it after a few days because some miserable human being didn't like my premise and left a crappy comment. I felt a little self-conscious and removed it, but thankfully saved the files. I've decided to give it another go & post it for you guys. I want to just disclose that, off the bat, this might seem like a run-of-the-mill Ambrose story, BUT IT'S NOT! It's not even intended to be an Ambrose story. Please, give it a read and a chance before you complain about that. Yes, this is in reference to that upset human and their review. Also, if that human is you & you're reading this - suck all the dicks. That's not to say I don't appreciate and welcome constructive criticism, because I do. What I will not suffer is unwarranted douchebaggery & if you don't know the difference between the two, please take some time to educate yourself before you start trying to critique shit. Also, to anyone following bulletproof weeks - I AM GOING TO UPDATE THIS WEEK, HOPEFULLY! I know I promise to update it like two weeks ago & forgive me, I had all the intent to. After the last update, my Little caught pneumonia coupled with a nice double ear infection. No sooner was she feeling better...I came down with esophagitis...because mom problems! Anywho, everyone is feeling mostly human again, so I will work on it and get it up ASAP! In the meantime, I hope you'll read and enjoy this one! I'll be updating both stories as regularly as possible.]
FULL SUMMARY: Corinne Morgan would say she had a life most people could only dream of ever living. As a seamstress/costume designer for the WWE, she's traveled the world, created memories to last a lifetime, and made some of the very best friends. Everything was perfect until her whole life changed in a split second. Just one mistake, one decision made in one single moment, obliterated everything she ever knew. As much as she wants to, she can't change what's done. She can't go back in time, she can't try to erase the hurt feelings, or mend the broken hearts. She can't make any of the details pretty, all she can do now is move forward and try to make the whole beautiful.
August 21, 2016
Brooklyn, NY
"I can't believe we're doing this..." Cori whispered, along with a drunken giggle, as they crept quietly down the empty hall to his hotel room.
In one hand, she held the high heeled boots she'd decided were too uncomfortable for the journey from the bar. The other gripped the hand of the man shuffling next to her. Talk about the blind leading the blind. They were both intoxicated – staggering together.
It wasn't unusual for the four best friends to go out for a celebratory drink after a pay-per-view event. A toast to all four living out their dreams and the three guys ending the night mostly unscathed. This night, Roman had his family with him and Seth was in the dumps about his match. That meant it was just Dean and Cori who'd met up after the show. He told Cori that he'd fought with Renee after the show, but he didn't want to talk about it. Cori didn't press for more details, but it meant he was alone for the night, too.
"One drink." They'd both agreed – Dean said he was exhausted from his match and Cori had to get up early to accompany Becky to the gym before the other woman had to leave for Connecticut.
One drink led to two, which led to several more. They were so twisted when they left the bar that they were holding one another up.
"Shhh." Dean was obviously still coherent enough to be cautious. "Are you tryna' make us the talk of the locker room tomorrow?" He asked, whispering.
The hotel halls were quiet and empty, typical of three AM on a Sunday night and perfect for Dean & Cori. Even though their co-workers were accustomed to Cori shadowing any or all the former Shield members, she never went to hotel rooms late at night with any of them.
"Oops." Cori giggled again, this time quieter.
Dean held her hand tight, fingers interlocked, his thumb impatiently caressing hers. As they reached his door, he took her in his arms. His kiss took her breath away, the hunger and desire. They stumbled against the door.
"Are you sure...Renee?" Cori's head swam as he pressed his lips to hers, his hand at the nape of her neck. He was neither rough nor particularly gentle, but he kissed her with the strength and sureness of a man who knew what he wanted. He tasted like morning coffee, a little tart, a little sweet, and kicked her adrenaline into overdrive more swiftly than caffeine.
Dean placed his hand flat against the door, rested his head on hers as he caught his breath. "I won't tell if you don't..." She could smell the alcohol on his breath – and God help her she wanted to suck the taste off his tongue.
She was looking forward to going to bed with Dean like she'd never looked forward to anything in her life.
"...unless you don't want to..." He murmured, kissing the arch of her brow, her eyelids, and her mouth.
He drew her more firmly against his hard body, so tight that she could feel the growing evidence of his arousal. A small gasp escaped her when he slowly ground his hips against her stomach. Something deep within her went liquid in response.
"How did I know that would be your answer?" He smiled against her lips. "We'd better get inside before we give someone a show they never forget." He kissed her quickly and reached past her to insert the key into the lock.
Dean pushed the door open and nudged her inside. He tossed the keys onto the side table and kicked the door shut, before locking it behind them.
Her lips tingled with the remnants of his long lingering kiss. She pulled back and dropped her boots, quickly glancing around the room – almost as if she was expecting to find Renee sitting there and waiting to catch them in the act. Four beers and three Fireball shots ago, she probably would have felt guilty about where she was, who she was with, and what she was about to do.
But, any guilt or second thoughts she might have had quickly disappeared when Dean put his hands on her again.
A tingle shot up her spine – a tremor as he lifted her and carried her over to the bed, climbing on his knees and placing her on her back in the middle. He pulled off his black t-shirt and Cori took in his body. All lean, hard muscles she ached to touch.
"You're a bad influence, Dean Ambrose." Cori said, but the electricity coursing through her veins confirmed that she didn't consider this a bad thing.
He smirked and flicked open the button to her jeans with one hand. Grabbing the hem, he pushed her shirt up and out of the way. She could see the fierce hunger in his eyes as he focused on her breasts and an excited kick of pleasure gripped her.
After unburdening her of most her clothing, he crawled over her on all fours, caging her with his muscular limbs.
He lowered his mouth to hers, pressed his hard, hot body against her."Yeah, a really bad influence."
The Next Morning:
Cori groaned as she came into consciousness, blinking her eyes open to the dim light of the room. Her first thought was to wonder if anyone caught the license plate of the truck that must have run her down. As hangovers went, this one was a doozy. Her head was splitting – her thighs and center were also very sore...
"God, if I never see another beer in my life, it'll be too soon." She moaned.
She couldn't remember how many drinks she had, but she knew Dean had bought her two upon arriving at the bar, and that was it. She could remember laughing with Dean, and she wasn't entirely sure, but thought they might have danced. Then...well...then she must have stumbled back to the hotel and fallen into bed.
She felt bone dry – a hot shower and a glass of water were calling her name.
Promising herself a reward of returning to bed in a few minutes, she decided to go in search of both.
Keeping her eyes closed, she sat up slowly and swung her feet over the bed. She gasped when the cool air hit her – a shiver shimmied down her spine, her nipples tightening to tight buds.
It was in that moment she realized she was naked as the day she'd been born.
"Oh, holy mother of God." She opened her eyes and wheezed, partly from the sunlight burning her retinas, but mostly from her strange surroundings. The generic hotel furnishings and décor were familiar, it was obviously a room in the same hotel she was staying. But, the suitcase against the wall was black – hers was a purple, aluminum trolley case. None of her cosmetics and toiletries were strung out on the dresser, either.
That was the first thing she did in every hotel – every town.
She did recognize her clothes strewn out in the floor; her favorite skinny jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Next to them, another pair of jeans and a pair of men's black boots.
"Oh, Corinne Morgan, what have you done..." Her stomach was in her throat at the sight of those boots – she definitely recognized the boots she teased him for wearing everywhere.
Because her head wasn't spinning enough, Cori whirled back around to look at the bed and it felt like her heart stopped in her chest.
He was on his stomach, his entire right arm hanging off the side of the bed. He was lightly snoring, and drool ran freely from his open mouth. The white sheet lay carelessly over his hips. His naked hips, which led her gaze to his naked back and then to his naked shoulders, the muscles nicely highlighted by the way he slept with his other arm under his head.
Her head ached as the events of the previous night came back in a screaming rush. Though most of it was a hazy blur set to a soundtrack of shameful sounds she never thought Dean would elicit from her, she could still feel the softness of his lips on her skin. She could recall the melding of their two glistening and wanting bodies. Deep & passionate kisses. Soft moans as he let his instincts take over. Their slow rhythm giving way to urgent and demanding thrusts of passion. His hands entangled in her hair as he threw her into ecstasy.
Icy panic shot through her, chilling her to the core, upon realizing she'd slept with, not only one of her closest friends, but also one of her best friends' boyfriend.
She snatched up the comforter from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her naked body. "Dean!" She hissed his name, but he didn't stir – his breathing remained deep and steady.
She snorted out her irritation and tried again, this time much louder. "DEAN AMBROSE! I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP!"
This time, Dean's eyebrows scrunched together and he opened his eyes, glaring at her tiredly. "Goddamn, what are you yelling about, Morgan?" The low and husky rumble from sleep accentuated his already gravelly voice.
Slowly, he sat up, clearly hung over. "Fuck..." He grumbled, scrubbing a hard hand over his face. "I'm going to kick Roman's ass for letting me get so wasted last night."
He must have been a lot drunker than Cori originally thought – briefly, she considered reminding him that Roman never showed up at the bar, but she chose to digress.
"Dean, I think a hangover is the least of our problems right now!" She clutched the comforter tight, fingers digging deeply into the folds.
Dean seemed confused for a moment, but then she could tell his half-awake, hungover mind registered why Cori was standing naked in his room. She saw the dawning in his eyes, the flash of awareness, along with an obvious sense of disappointment.
"Oh, shit, so it wasn't just a filthy dream after all..." He said, so cavalier.
Cori knitted her brow – did he have filthy dreams about her often?
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She needn't be concerned about his stupid wet dreams, not after their actual filthy activities the prior night.
"Really? That's your response?" She couldn't believe how calm he was being, it was irritating. "You have a fucking girlfriend – who just so happens to be my friend and co-worker. Is this not a problem to you?" She scoffed her disbelief.
Dean sat up slowly and groaned as he stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders forward, then back. "Cori, I see how this could be problematic – I do." He rubbed his scalp and yawned before saying, "But, why panic? You're acting like we can go back and un-screw one another or something..."
Cori stared at him incredulously – so stunned by his completely unbothered state that she almost lost her grip on the comforter hanging around her frame. She watched him as he got out of the bed, staggered a bit, and stretched his arms to the ceiling. Nerves warred within her stomach and she wondered if she was the one over-reacting.
"Trust me, Cor," He'd collected his jeans from the pile of clothing on the floor and they now hung snugly around his hips. "I regret our little drunken romp as much as you," He sighed and drew a hand threw his already tousled hair. "but the way I see it – we're the only ones who know about it, right?" Dean was standing in front of her now – bare chest inches away from her nose.
"Right." Cori looked away, the heat of her shame rising in her cheeks. Dean was one of her very best friends, along with Roman, Seth, and Becky. She'd seen him shirtless many times – at the gym, the pool, backstage. It was never a big deal before, now it just felt wrong and wholly inappropriate.
"Well, I'm not saying shit to anyone and, judging by the way you're shaking like a dog shitting glass, I doubt you are."
She stepped back to give herself some space and bit her lip, eyes on the ground. "We were obviously very wasted, Dean, we don't know for sure that nobody saw us come back here together."
"We don't know for sure that anybody did, neither, do we?"
He was right but panic emptied her brain of logic. "But, what if they did?"
"Morgan, life's too short to walk around chewing your lip over things that may not happen, okay?" He put a finger under her chin and raised her face to his so that she was forced to meet his eyes.
She fought the urge to pull away from his touch. She could never let him put his hands on her again – all she'd ever think about was how those hands had explored every inch and sought an audience with the most intimate parts of her body.
"We're adults," He continued. "and, drunk or not, we made a decision. We'll just have to deal with the consequences of that decision – if we're met with them. Otherwise," He sighed again and dropped his hand to his side. "I'm gonna hop in the shower..."
Cori nodded. "You're right." She took in a deep breath and exhaled. "I should get back to my room and get cleaned up, too. Becky's probably worried sick."
She really couldn't deny the honesty of his words – they couldn't change it and by worrying about uncertainties they would only be robbing themselves of peace of mind.
Peace of mind - internally, she scoffed.
She'd slept with another woman's boyfriend; the last thing she deserved was peace of mind, ever again.
"Alright. I'll see you and the guys at breakfast." He playfully punched her shoulder and disappeared into the bathroom.
Even after hearing the door shut and lock behind him, she didn't move right away. She was frozen for a moment – part of her still couldn't fully process what had happened. She was completely shocked, she'd never even been attracted to Dean – or so she'd thought. She was more stunned by his indifferent reaction, to say the least. She didn't even have a significant other and she was completely frazzled.
Once she heard the shower start, she finally dropped the blanket and hurried into her clothes. Her phone was flashing with dozens of missed calls and texts from Becky – as Cori had predicted. After not returning to their shared room all night and sleeping through their early morning gym date, she was surprised Becky hadn't already gathered Roman & Seth and beat down Dean's door to recruit him for her search party.
She sent Becky a quick text to assure her that she was okay and on her way back to the room. She didn't know how Dean could be so calm, but she would follow suit – he certainly had more to lose than she did. To start, she just wanted a shower to wash Dean and the night off her. After that, she wasn't sure what would become of their friendship.
She didn't really want to think about it, either.
She just wanted to forget the night had ever happened.
September 15, 2016
Milwaukee, WI
"Well, shit."
Heart slamming fiercely in her chest, Cori stared at the three sticks lined up on the edge of her bathroom counter and hoped her Jedi mind trick would turn the positive signs to negative.
There had to be some mistake, but how could three pregnancy tests be wrong?
Regardless of how concerned she had been about this, how much it had occupied her thoughts, she couldn't wrap her mind around the results.
Even if you know what's coming, you're never prepared for how it feels.
She placed her hands on either side of the sink and inhaled deeply through her nose.
She became suspicious 8 days ago, when her period was officially 3 days late. She was never, ever late. 28 days, like clockwork.
Then this month – nothing.
She had hoped she was just late, but every day that passed without Aunt Flo coming to town sent a new rush of terror through her heart. It had taken her a week to find the courage to take a test and now she desperately wished she'd hadn't.
After 5 minutes of willing the results to change, her brain felt like it was about to explode, so she sat down on toilet seat and placed her head in her hands. Her stomach clenched painfully and her mouth felt desperately dry.
"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid." Tears welled in her eyes and she gulped them back. "How could you let this happen, Corinne?"
The sensible side of her told her not to be so hard on herself – she was drunk and made a mistake. She had been so occupied with her shock over having slept with Dean and trying to get the night out of her mind – she'd never even stopped to wonder if the two of them, in all their drunken brilliance, had paused long enough to bother with protection.
Obviously not, because it couldn't be anyone other than Dean. Aside from their one night together, she had the sex-life of a nun; the reason she wasn't on any birth control.
"What am I supposed to do now?" She pressed her hand hard against her flat stomach, clenching her shirt with trembling fingers.
Pregnancy would create enough problems, but with Dean as the father, those problems would only be multiplied to the point where she wasn't sure how she would be able to handle them.
So far, their night together had remained their dirty little secret. With Dean and Renee traveling with Smackdown and Cori working backstage with the RAW roster, she was really beginning to think it would fade away into a distant memory.
So much for that – sure, she could probably hide it for a few months, but certainly not forever. When it became noticeable, people would ask questions. She briefly considered not telling him or anyone the truth, but dismissed that thought when she remembered he was still one of her best friends. Even if they never spoke about it, he knew they'd spent a night together and she was certain he could do basic math.
Eventually, he would figure it out on his own.
A knock on her bathroom door jolted her from her thoughts.
"Cor, did you die in there? Hurry up, I gotta piss, man." Seth called.
She'd honestly forgotten he was there, crashing on her couch that night so they could drive into Chicago together the next day for Riot Fest.
"Sorry, Seth, I'll be out in a sec." She called back quickly, doing her best to hide the quiver in her voice. "That chili you made isn't sitting right with me."
"Okaaaay. TMI, Corinne."
Cori waited for the sound of Seth's retreating footsteps before she stood up from the toilet and grabbed the tests, their instructions, and the boxes. She wrapped all the paraphernalia in a garbage bag and buried it as deep in the waste basket as she could manage.
"Holy hell..." She uttered on an exhalation, staring at the garbage. If she honestly thought there was a God in heaven, she would ask him what she had done to deserve this? No, she knew what she'd done – this was her punishment for sleeping with another woman's boyfriend.
Did she really let herself think that night would just go away?
Stupid
And pregnant.
With Dean Ambrose's baby.
I want to stress, at the beginning, that this isn't really a Dean/OC story - as you read on, you will see that it's to be more of a Zayn/OC story. I just wanted to disclose that before anyone thought this was a Dean/OC story, got deep into it, and then messaged me disappointed later on. Hell, stories/ideas grow and evolve! If it flows that way, it might become a Dean/OC story - but I don't plan it that way. So, yeah.