A/N: I had a few requests to elaborate on the scene Nikki mentioned about Jon/Peyton in the bathroom stall. So, here it is. Smut warning!
The music pumped through the air, filling every empty space not occupied by a body and coursed through Peyton's body, mixing with the alcohol. Peyton stood in the center of the small dance floor, swaying along to the song. She knew Jon was watching. He was always watching. His hat was pulled down obstructing his eyes from her view, but she could feel them on her.
Jon was leaning against a wall, beer in one hand and the other shoved in his pocket. Peyton spun around, her hazy green eyes locking on him. She didn't need to be able to fully see his face to know she was the focus of his gaze. She was use to him watching her. Sometimes he watched out of curiosity and amusement, never really sure what she might say or do. Sometimes he watched because he was protective and a little jealous and didn't like the way some people looked at her. Sometimes he watched because there was nothing else to do and sometimes, like tonight, he watched because he couldn't not watch her.
Peyton smirked, noticing the waitress stand a little closer to him than was necessary, her hand resting on his arm as she handed him the drinks he'd ordered. He held the two bottles, one in each hand, taking a long swig from the beer in his right hand before waving the one in his left in a small circle toward Peyton's direction. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't stop her feet from moving across the floor. "That for me?" Reaching out, she tapped her finger against the glass of the bottle.
He didn't answer, just nodded his head and handed her the bottle, letting her fingers rest on his before pulling his hand back. He watched her bring the bottle to her lips and let the liquid roll down her throat, her eyes closing briefly before she turned her back to him to watch the crowd on the dance floor. Peyton watched for a few moments swaying softly when a particularly slow and bluesy song came on. She immediately recognized it. Touch by Jonny Lang. Leaning back, she rested her head against Jon's chest when he wrapped an arm around her and grabbed the bottle from her hand, sitting it on the table beside them.
"Dance with me."
Peyton nodded her head and let Jon pull her back closer against him, wrapping an arm up and around his neck, pulling her fingers through the curls poking out from the back of his ball cap. She'd gotten use to his changing moods. He truly was an enigma. The man was the funniest, goofiest, sweetest guy she'd ever met. But, like Peyton, he also had a darker side. Quieter, more withdrawn, more cynical…more like the character people saw on TV every week. It was no secret that his previous persona of Jon Moxley and his current one of Dean Ambrose were extensions of his darker, calculating, dominant, more alpha side. It's what made him so successful. The man behind her now, hands gripping her hips, was not the relaxed, easy going Jon from earlier in the day. She could feel his body tense, alert, a commanding presence.
His size, build, and reputation alone tended to make him intimidating. Nights like tonight, most people steered clear of him. Peyton, however, wasn't most people. She felt safer than ever on nights like this. She had no doubt the laid back Jon would do anything to protect her if need be, but with this Jon, she didn't need to be protected because one look at him and anyone would be a fool to mess with her.
She traced the flesh beneath his hairline with her fingertips before digging her fingers back into the curls. Peyton knew it was a trigger for him. Even if she hadn't known, the way his head rolled forward and his hands tightened on her, long fingers dipping just inside the waist of her skirt would have given him away.
Peyton's hips never faltered with their swaying, one hand alternately toying with the back of his neck and his hair, the thumb on her other hand tucked into his front pocket. "Peyton." Her name came from his mouth coarse and gruff, just a harsh whisper. A cautionary warning. She knew it was more of a reminder to remember their surroundings than anything. "Jon." She purred back, challenging him. She could feel him hard, pushing against the base of her spine, right above the denim material riding low on her hips. "Peyton." He ground her name out again, breathing against her neck.
Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, Peyton tilted her head to the side, purposely rotating her hips a little harder against him, "Take me back to the room." He grabbed her hand from the back of his neck and headed toward the exit, their drinks forgotten on the table. A slight turn of his head and they were headed down a short hallway. Pushing the door open to the women's restroom, Jon glanced around seeing it was empty, he pulled Peyton in fully behind him and let the door close, somewhat muting the music and voices from the bar.
"I tried to warn you." He was on her, the duo falling into the closest stall.
"I know." Peyton grinned up at him, pushing her hair back out of her face and leaning against the wall watching him tug on his belt, working to free himself from his jeans…his eyes never leaving hers. Peyton stared back, green eyes blazing as she eased her hands up her thighs and beneath her skirt, tugging her panties down her legs. She stepped out of them with one foot then raised the other, letting the silky material dangle from her boot. Jon grabbed her leg, pulling the material from her foot and tucking it into his back pocket then letting her leg fall back to the ground. The soft thud of her boot on the concrete floor echoed around them.
His hands slid beneath her skirt, sliding it up. Pushing off the wall, Peyton spun around, dark hair flying over her shoulder. Jon grabbed a fistful of her hair, twisting it around his fingers and tugging her head to the side, kissing her hard and rough. Peyton reached up, gripping the top of the stall and returning his kiss with as much fever and raw lust as he was covering her with. Their teeth clashed before she sank hers into his bottom lip. He pulled back, snapping his hips forward and pushing into her, filling her completely.
Peyton gasped out, barely registering the slight pain when her forehead banged off the wall. Her grip on the wall tightened with each powerful thrust. A whimper fell from her when he pulled back, withdrawing from her, tearing her back from the edge. "Turn around." Before his simple command was out she had rotated, facing him. Her hands had switched positions, now gripping the wall above her head. She used the new angle to pull herself up and wrap her legs around his waist. "Don't fucking stop again." Her voice was shaky, little more than a pant of air. She bucked slightly, arching toward him when he slid back inside of her and attacked her mouth again, one hand resting on her neck, the other cupping the flesh of her ass beneath her skirt.
Jon barely acknowledged the sound of the door opening and closing over the sound of their bodies slapping against each other and Peyton's whimpers and moans along with his own grunts and groans. The entire bar could have filed into the bathroom and neither would have noticed. Both so lost in their own world they didn't notice the brunette Diva standing in shocked silence, mouth agape, hand clenching her chest.
Peyton's hands slid from the edge of the stall to Jon's back as pleas for release and barely coherent curse words tumbled from her mouth. Her nails dug into his skin, raking down his back leaving angry red welts in their wake. A sharp hiss sounded in her ears followed immediately by his demanding, "Cum for me baby." He wrenched her head to the side, exposing her neck to his mouth, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh as he exploded inside her. Peyton yelled out, her head falling forward and biting down on his shoulder, nails once again scraping down his back when she could feel him dripping out of her and sliding down her thighs.
"God damn." Jon's head was resting on her shoulder now, both fighting to catch their breaths when the sound of the door opening and closing caused them to both jerk to attention. Peyton peered through the crack in the door of the stall and shrugged not seeing anyone. Jon grinned down at her, easing her down to stand on the floor. She tugged at her skirt, adjusting it as he smoothed his shirt and refastened his belt. "You're gonna be the death of me woman." He leaned down, kissing her lips, "But what a fucking way to go. You ready?"
Peyton nodded, "Yep…can I have my panties back?" She took Jon's hand that he was holding out for her and followed him from the stall, smacking at the back of his head when he smirked and shook his head, "Nope."
"You still owe me from the last pair you kept." She ran her free hand through her hair as they exited the bar and stepped into the parking lot.
"Trophies." He joked, smiling at her over his shoulder, slowing slightly so she could fall in step beside him. The air around him had changed, gone was the air of danger and caution. In its place was a feeling of ease and contentment.