A/N: I just want to say a thank you to HalloweenBarbie, charmedbyortonbarrett, samanthajaydex, KatieKazaMizAwesome, Guest, Guest, Sonib89, LovingMYsins, katydtbhmusic, and MRSCMPUNK1 for your reviews! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying my story, it really keeps me going! I also wish to you all, my readers a very Merry Christmas, that I hope you guys have happy holidays! Also thank you to KaylaNicole143 for her kind message, it truly touched my heart. You guys have been fantastic and I'm blessed having readers like you all.

I'm sorry I took a while with this chapter seeing as it's the holidays I was a tad bit busy with games as well. Either way, here's chapter 5. Full of more Dean and Vivienne interactions you guys seem to get a kick out of. However, I must say from here on out I'm going to be touching more darker elements that make Dean/Jon one of the greatest persona's within the WWE. I try my best to remain true to Jonathan Good/Dean Ambrose, and to receive messages saying that I'm doing good at keeping him how he is makes me all the more happy. Either way, this is a very lengthy chapter for your pleasures.

Please don't forget to review! I owe nothing that corresponds with the WWE.

Chapter 5: Game Changer.

It's getting harder to pretend. To pretend what happened that night didn't actually happen. It taunts my mind. My flesh. My neck burns at the thought of it, and my mind tantalizes with the scent of cigarettes, old spice, and him at its natural state. This man, I hate the fucking most, is doing something to me.

Vivienne found herself sighing into Seth's shoulder whom embraced his sister, tightly almost as though he didn't want to let go. Already Roman has parted ways with the group, and of course Dean is the only one left. It's Christmas Eve and the group is splitting up seeing as they want to spend the holidays with their family members or loved ones. In Seth's case, his girlfriend is coming over, Roman with his family.

Dean? Didn't say anything of who he's spending time with. Neither did Vivienne. For of course, they had nobody, nobody but themselves.

Seth kissed the crown of Vivienne's head as they broke the embrace. Vivienne stared up at her brother, right into his eyes as she softly smiled at him. Seth did so as well. "Spend the money I gave you wisely, I'm not going to be around to be taking care of you until Thursday. Also, call me if you need anything. I'll fly out to get you or you can come over here if anything. Also-" Vivienne at first was nodding her head but then she placed her hand over her brother's mouth, shutting him up. Seth was concerned; worried that back at New York his sister could get into even more trouble.

"I could handle myself okay. You just have fun, I'll call you tomorrow. Merry Christmas Colby." Grinned Vivienne as she took hold of her duffle bag and began to walk into the airport. Dean whom was simply waiting for Vivienne stared at Seth before giving him a slight nod. "I'll see you Thursday." It's all they told each other as Dean grabbed hold of his bag from the trunk of Seth's car. Before Dean could walk away, Seth took hold of the sleeve of Dean's jacket.

"Don't do anything stupid Jon." Dean turned his head, as his lips curved in an almost maniacal smile. "Oh, would I ever, my dear, dear, dear, Colby?" Dean snapped himself out of the grip of Seth before laughing, and walking right behind Vivienne whom only eyed Ambrose. The two never talked at all about what occurred that night. Although the urge came from both sides to bring it up, to see what the other would say, they never said anything. It wasn't fear that held them back either – it was the fact that the subject matter would only make the notable tensions between the two all the more.

"Princess, what are ya plannin' on doing? Got someone special out there in the shithole of all cities?" And by that shithole he meant New York City. Vivienne whom sat across from Ambrose in the waiting seats would only blankly stare at the male as she pressed her chin onto the palm of her hand. Her elbow pressed against her thighs as she supported herself.

"You know me so well Ambrose. I'll rather not even go to the damn city. Christmas over there is all marketing, nobody gives a shit about what's around the tree, only underneath you know? I don't even want to go. Only reason I'm leaving Iowa is because I don't want to cock block for Colby, and being here just brings me awful memories."

Vivienne didn't talk much about her past in Buffalo, after all this is where she was born, raised, and even ended up going to court in. The fact that she lives in New York is a decision she made during the times of her trial to change her life up, well, hopefully change her lifestyle at the least.

It explains why she barely went out while being in Buffalo, why she didn't even want to step in a bar when the others did. She was in a way infamous – well known and because of that notoriety she hated being in Buffalo. These were things she was ashamed of, that she herself in thoughts couldn't and wouldn't go into details of the occurrences.

Dean on the other hand had no interest in the holidays. Nor anything else that didn't involve fucking, drinking, or wrestling. Mainly wrestling.

"What about you Ambrose, what are you planning?"

"Fucking, smoking, drinking to my heart's content. I could care less about these kind of things ya know? Ain't exactly, and never has been my thing." For Dean, it was since childhood he couldn't enjoy these holidays. Especially since he technically had no family around for it. His father was locked up; his mother on the other hand was drugging herself up or found in a corner doing what she did best. Instead of finding peace in Christmas, he was off fighting some kids who thought could dominate over him, as if he was some punk.

Vivienne chuckled. "Sounds ideal," And it wasn't even sarcasm.

"Join me then," Dean didn't even have control at much what he said. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could even reach out and take them back. He stood up from his seat, bewildered at himself as he began pacing back and forth. Everyone else in the airport eyed the male with concern, or suspicions. Vivienne knew this was something he did when agitated or nervous for that matter. Vivienne couldn't even tell what exactly he was feeling. Nor was she in the mood to sit down and decipher what is going on.

However his offer struck her rather odd, but not as much as it bothered him. Still, she thought Dean to be much of a loner, to himself. Vivienne pried her eyes away from Dean and stared down at her ticket. Clearly it stated New York City. Whereas Dean's say Cincinnati. I've never been to Cincinnati. She found herself trying to find reasons to make it seem okay to say yes. Though everything inside of her screamed for her to accept the offer put on the table.

"You don't have to say yes ya know, it's not like I have a gun to your fuckin' head Princess."

Vivienne glared at Dean. "I know I'm not obliged to do shit Ambrose."

"So it's a no then right?" A part of him hoped it was a no, and at the same time he wanted a yes. He wanted someone for once to spend time with, and for some reason it had to be her. It couldn't be just a senseless woman he picked up at a bar and fucked. It had to be Vivienne. The only woman whom can't stand him, and can actually put up with him.

"Sheesh Ambrose if you wanted a no why the fuck did you ask?" Vivienne sighed, as she glanced down at her ticket once more and back up at Ambrose, who was still pacing back and forth. The people around them began to mutter. They appeared almost dysfunctional as a set. Or to their assumptions as a couple. "I'll join you for Christmas."

Dean lips slightly parted open, as he stared with disbelief. Vivienne stood up from her seat as she heard the announcement of Dean's flight. Now her flight as well. "Come on, let's go."

For once he was having company on this day. Someone he knows. Someone he cares to know to begin with. Someone he knows their name, but just refuses to say. A part of him felt as if he was to call her by her name, it establishes a sort of relationship, a friendship, anything with a label on it. And that's what he didn't want. He just want it to be how it is. Dean and Vivienne. Not friends, none of that bullshit.

"Don't regret it afterwards."

"I don't have time to regret."

Dean Ambrose was deemed insane. Of course what isn't conventional or in the norms is always deemed mad. And that's what causes people to alienate him, or for him to alienate himself from others. His erratic, violent behavior however is all just a cover up. Or so this is the conclusion Vivienne thinks to herself as she stares at the skyscrapers and lights of Cincinnati. He's afraid. Maybe more of himself than others. His own judgment. He's not accustomed to yes's. He's not accustomed to even having someone in his passenger seat at this moment – sober at the least – smiling as she stares at the scenery.

"What ya think?" His voice disrupted her thoughts. Vivienne whom was staring out at the window now looked at Dean, whom as always was smoking a cigarette. "This is amazing." Were the only words Vivienne managed to utter. She wasn't lying.

Before knowing it they've arrived to Dean's home. Inside, Vivienne only plopped her bag onto one of the seats in the living room. Dean light up another cigarette as he plopped himself onto the couch. There was no pictures in this house, there were only championship belts he's won within the indies. Vivienne stared down at her cell phone which vibrated. I hope you landed safe in New York. Let me know if you need anything.

"Who was that? Rollins?" Dean finally spoke up as the scent of clovers crawled up to her nostrils. "He'll flip the fuck out if he knew that you, his baby sister was with me right now. I must be the fuckin' devil."

Vivienne only chuckled as she shrugged her shoulders. "Who cares. I mean he's not going to find out because I'm sure as hell not saying shit. I don't know what the hell Colby's deal is. What the hell is so bad about you, Dean Ambrose other than the fact you can't even call me by my name."

"Well Princess apparently if I must admit, there is a lot of things wrong with me." Inwardly he winced however, for he knew he didn't lie. "It's alright though, being so fucked up, its what makes us human." He remembered telling her those words and as he blew the smoke past his lips, that infamous grin of his developed on his soft pinks.

"Now you're sounding like me, I hope I'm not a bad influence." Dean, sarcastic as ever. Vivienne stood up from the seat she sat in as she then approached Ambrose and took the cigarette from his hand, and with her free hand took hold of his wrist as she slightly began to tug him. Dean was surprised by her sudden movements as he; perplexed stood up from the couch. He stared at her lips as they pulled onto the butt of what was once his Newport. He noticed how her lipstick slightly smudged on. And the look of ease that developed on her face as she excreted the smog.

It was almost sinful, the way she smoked that cigarette.

"I did not come to Cincinnati for my ass to be stuck indoors with you on Christmas Eve. Come on. Christmas is within the hour; let's have some fun in the city!"

This is what it felt like, or so thought Dean. Having someone annoying you on Christmas Eve that they should go out and hang out. Nobody wants to spend time with the big bad wolf, and here's fearless red riding hood, wanting to actually go out with him. It was mind blowing almost. But he couldn't comfort himself. He knew he couldn't sit there and think it was going to be like this all the time. This is her now, this is her out of boredom. This isn't a Vivienne that actually wants to spend time with Dean. She wants to cope with her loneliness, and is using him for a means of escape.

A part of him didn't mind it at all. That other part of him wanted to drive her insane, make her hate him all the more. I can't stand the guy. Those words only ring through his head, remembering, and only fueling the part of him that wants to drive Vivienne Lopez out of his life.

With ease Dean slipped out of the grasp of her fingers onto her wrist, as he then took hold her wrist and began to walk out. He couldn't be the one dominated; he had to be the one on top. It was the same in real life as it is in the ring. Best in the world isn't a gimmick, for he believes he is it.

"This is great!"

Surprisingly enough the bar was full and one would think after that night's incident being in a bar with Dean Ambrose would be a mistake, however it was the complete opposite. However, one would think many things; especially how people would've probably been home on Christmas Eve night with their families, instead they were in a local bar in Cincinnati.

Here, Dean was well known. Respected for that matter; it was hard to deem if it was respect or not, some, or many feared him. The muttering is notable as the two sat were sitting down in a table sipping from their immensely sized beer mugs. Vivienne who just finished taking a chug from her mug would place it on the table and beam. Ambrose on the other hand light up another cigarette as the two sat next to one another. In order to comfort himself he placed his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"Hope you don't mind Princess." Vivienne shrugged, she wasn't in the mood to fight for once with Dean, she was willing to have a good time with him, and the rest of the people here whom danced or sang to the music whom played.

"Like we haven't gone through worst." Vivienne felt her lips immediately purse from what she just said, knowing well he would know what she meant by it.

Dean glanced towards her direction for a mild second before he began to laugh as he pressed his cheeks against her shoulders. "Ain't that right?" He whispered.

His breath crawled against the nape of her neck, and his words into her ear, and converted themselves to pieces of lines that she'll remember. The clock struck 12, and officially it is December 25, 2012. Christmas Day. Vivienne whom stopped drinking after her 5th mug so she could remain sober would take hold of the cigarette that dangled from the corner of Dean's lips. She pressed her chin onto his shoulder as he held her closer and inhaled the bittersweet toxin. "You need to start getting your own cigarettes Princess; I'm not going to contribute to your cancer."

Throughout the night she didn't get to talk much to Dean, seeing as this is Dean Ambrose's hometown, and he's a well-known face, people have questions, people want to talk to him. Ask him how's it been going in the WWE. To Vivienne's disappointment, it isn't exactly what she had in mind. And as he was sitting down talking to a group of people he seemed to be very familiar with, Vivienne managed to slip out of his arms and stepped outside.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared up at the ink-spilled cosmos. She leaned against the wall of the bar, where the music blared and people kept going in, instead of going out. Word must've gotten out that the all great, Jonathan Good, Jon Moxley, now known as Dean Ambrose is in town. Vivienne rolled her eyes, for this isn't exactly what she envisioned at first for Christmas. Hell, she didn't know how to view Christmas. The only time Christmas ever meant a smidge of anything to Vivienne was at childhood, when she was closest to her brother. When she was close to her family period. She rubbed her arms as it was bitter and stinging cold out.

Dean, inside the bar took notice that no longer Vivienne was by his side. "Shit.." He muttered to himself as his eyes scoped the premises, but couldn't spot her. Why the fuck didn't I realize when she got up and go? And why the fuck she didn't tell me a damn thing? I swear this woman.. Is all he can think to himself as he stood up from his seat and pushed through the people, still looking around, wondering where the hell did she go.

Vivienne on the other hand light up a cigarette and placed it on her lips, and before she could even inhale the smog, she found her cigarette being pulled right out of her lips. "Now now now, what the hell do we have here? Never seen you around these parts." Vivienne growled as she stared up at the two male figures who held the sickest of smirks upon their faces. The man who took hold of Vivienne's cigarette took a pull as he then tossed an almost whole cigarette to the ground and put it out.

Vivienne felt a knot form in her throat. Out of anger, agitation, but out of fear as well. Situations like these didn't benefit her, or the other party really. "Fuck off you two."

"Woah, and we got a barker too Jay? Ain't that something special?" He slightly elbowed his friend as he leaned in towards Vivienne whom already was leaning against a wall. As she tried moving to the side, the two only moved with her. She glanced down at the floor, at her burned out cigarette and felt her throat tighten all the more. This was only spiraling downward, and she was going down along with it.

She unwrapped her arms from her chest as she shoved one of the guys whom stood in front of her as she tried pushing by past the two but that only resulted her being shoved back into the wall, roughly as well as her head banged right against the brick wall. She felt the pain surge through her head, however she didn't wince, and she didn't display the pain. She only bit her tongue as she felt the blood withdraw from the wound on her head, and from her biting her tongue.

"Sweetheart you need to stop being so rough, unless you like it that way." Vivienne snarled, and only barked inwardly at herself. Thinking about how she should've stayed inside, hell probably fall asleep with all the chit-chatting Dean was doing. She should've stayed by Dean for ironically she is safer by side him. "Pin her down Jay, I think we got a fighter." At then her arms were pinned up against a wall as the one who gave the orders leaned his frame against Vivienne. Vivienne began to trash about, trying to get out of the grip, but only resulted being backhanded by whom by assumptions is called Anthony.

Vivienne's head already was in a whirl from the impact against the wall, as then he did what she didn't want at all. He pressed his lips against her neck and began to lavish upon her flesh. Vivienne closed her eyes, as she didn't stop trashing, but the force from Jay, who happens to be a hefty man, didn't allow her to budge at all. She only tightly closed her eyes, imprisoning the tears that begged to escape, but she didn't allow to. Her pride, didn't allow to.

This wasn't the first time she's been in such situation. These were reasons she left Buffalo, these were reasons she almost left someone for dead in Buffalo.

But what pained her most about this situation was that her neck was touched once more, and it only made her body go cold, calloused. It wasn't like then, it wasn't like when Jon touched her neck. It angered her, it angered her that she felt nothing but cold. The last thing she wanted to feel on her neck is her internally freezing over. Vivienne snapped her eyes open as she turned her towards Jay who was close to her face as she roughly headbutted him, causing him to slightly fall back and loosen his grip on her hands. Vivienne then swiftly punched Jay, and before Anthony could react elbowed him right into his ear socket.

Before the two had time to react she began to run. She ran back into the bar and before stepping in, out was coming Dean whom was coming right out. His eyes widen, staring at the soft purple shade cheek of Vivienne, at the blood that was at the corner of her lips, and even all over her olive cargo jacket. Her eyes looked vulnerable, like that night he saw her with the bottles at her side. They glistened with her tears, with her sadness, her anguish, and marked exasperation. "Who the fuck did this to you?!" He yelled but she didn't say a word. She didn't want him to get involved, it wasn't his problem, it's nobody's problem but her own. But it didn't even matter, because the two men who did this came right out of the small alley passage where the incident occurred.

With a macabre twist to hallelujah, Dean knew it was them, the bastards who took more light out of the eyes of Vivienne. Jay, at realizing who it was, Jonathan Good whom wouldn't be the first time they would encounter. Jay, without telling Anthony anything would run off, but before Anthony got the opportunity to follow he was tackled into the ground. Dean only punched him with both of his hands continuous amount of times and laughed as he did so.

"You fuckin' son of a bitch! You were never taught how to fuckin' treat a woman you fuckin' shit?!"

Vivienne slowly turned around as she stared at Dean, whose knuckles were cut and covered in blood from the male who was underneath him in a bloody pulp. However, he didn't stop. Even after the guy fell unconscious. Jonathan Good felt a distinct pleasure in causing pain, as well as feeling it. His knuckles ached every single time they collided with the cheekbones or even the broken nose bridge of the unconscious male, but it was his fuel, that bit of pain. Vivienne however shook her head, trying to pry words out of her mouth for Dean.

But she didn't want him to, she loved what she was seeing. And slowly a smile formed on her busted lips. Everyone from the bar stepped out and stared at Dean and begged him to stop, for he can obviously kill the man. Vivienne, at snapping out of her twisted fantasy, would only go towards Dean as she took hold of his arms and tried pulling him away.

"That's enough Jon.." She didn't need to yell, for she knew he'll listen to her. Didn't even call him by his stage name, which is something she normally prefers doing. With one last punch, Dean tossed the body to the side as already someone was making the call to 911. Dean stood before Vivienne, staring at her tender, bruised flesh. The temptation of wanting to caress her bruise to ease her pain was there, but he didn't want to coat her olive complexion with the filthy blood of the man who did this to her. He wanted to yell at her as well, as to why she couldn't just stay inside with him. But he knew that didn't matter anymore, at least she was safe, at least she was here.

Vivienne didn't say a word, as Dean only wrapped his arms around her shoulder, and pulled her close to his frame, and only began to walk away. At least she's here, in his arms.

Vivienne winced as she sat on Dean's bed. She had her head hung as he slightly applied ointment to the gash on her head from the impact with the wall. She sat between his legs, as his chest was pressed against her back, but even with the slight touch between the two, Vivienne felt cold. The incident only brought her memories she had thought she submerged into the deepest parts of her subconscious.

"I should've killed that fuckin' guy, the fuck did ya have to tell me to stop for..?" He hasn't called her Princess at all, or even sunshine or any other pet name he has the tendency of laying on her. Vivienne slightly shook her head, as much as her head throbbed in pain.

"It wouldn't have solved a thing Dean…It'll ruin you. It'll ruin your career. And you've just made your official debut on live WWE television.. You don't want to ruin that. I wouldn't want you to ruin that all because of me.." Vivienne knew how much wrestling meant to Ambrose, it's all he seemed to hold legitimate feelings for, Professional Wrestling.

"So much for Christmas, and its shit of a spirit.." Vivienne tossed aside the tools he used to apply the ointment on Vivienne's head as he pushed her back her head, Vivienne sighed as she molded into the frame of Dean Ambrose. Dean took his hands and pressed his index finger onto her temple, slightly rubbing them, with hopes to ease the pain.

And surprisingly it worked. Her eyes closed as she only leaned her head back, into Dean's chest. Dean, glanced down at her revealed neck and realized it was slightly red. He recognized the marks like that of teeth and he felt rage well up within him, he was also disgusted.

"It's okay, at least we are here right? We're okay.."

You're not okay, you're not okay at all huh Princess?

Dean pressed his chin onto the shoulder of Vivienne, and that's when she froze up. As his cheek as pressed against her cheek. And that all familiar, enticing, drawing scent of his. The cigarettes, the old spice, and all of him crawl up her snout. Dean slightly rubbed his cheek against hers, and she only kept her eyes closed as she turned her head. Opening her eyes, Vivienne then clashed with the treachery of those blues. Those blue eyes of Dean Ambrose.

"I was fuckin' worried about you, ya know?" Vivienne felt the tip of her nose slightly rub up against his, and his words almost hushed. "When you're with me, you stay with me. You got that?" Vivienne only nodded her head lightly, as her nose once more slightly touched against Dean's.

"I can take care of you, as much as I can break you. But I want to take care of you Vivienne.." Her heart stopped at hearing his voice say her name, and this time he was sober, he was in the actual zone. She didn't even say a word, as his bandaged up hands would cup her cheek, his thumb pad pressed against her cheek lightly as she winced for the bruise was still there, however, he eased the stinging sensation as he slowly rubbed it. He wanted to hear that quiet sound of affliction to feed his perverse pleasure.

His fingertips trailed the bridge of his nose, as his lips ached and inched close towards Vivienne. His thumb lightly ran on her satin like blushed lips. Vivienne bit her bottom lip, and that only made Dean fight the itching groan that wanted to escape from the ends of his throat. This was the changer, what was going to change the way they functioned around one another.

Their lips were millimeters apart from one another, as then his other hand came and cupped her cheeks, as cautiously their lips met. Their lips pressed lightly against one another in order to accustom themselves to each other's shape, and slowly they molded in on their own.

She felt her eyes widen at first, as did he, for they stared at each other for a second, before their eyes closed in unison. He felt like filth, as though he took opportunity of her vulnerability to do such things to her, but her response only displayed a mutual desire. Her cheeks flushed, and her breathing slightly erratic along with his for her body grew feverish as her hands traveled from his face to his hand. Her fingertips combing through his locks as she then felt his tongue slightly massage her bottom lip, begging for access. The small moments their lips parted for a second he only said it again and again.

"Vivienne.." Goose bumps only formed down her spine. He whispered her name brokenly against her lips, devouring those delectable lips of hers. Vivienne shifted her movement as then Dean took his arm and snaked it around her waist - turning her around as she now rested on top of his frame for he laid back onto the bed. His hands traveled from her waist up to her hair, taking a fistful of it as her scent engulfed the animal within him. Everything about Vivienne Lopez was intoxicating, enticing, and he realized it since day one, when she cursed the living soul out of him with her presence.

The kiss compared to nothing like the many he's experienced. And although her tongue tasted like that of beer, it had this odd trifle of vanilla, cigarettes, and mint. The mint was always something she loved having after smoking a cigarette. Maybe the kiss wasn't the same due to the fact there's this unknown, indescribable feeling when it came to her. But there was no denying now, that this indeed was the changer of it all.

Dean knew if he didn't stop at all he would ravish all of her body. Pulling away, Vivienne slightly opened her eyes and stared down at Dean for she lay on his frame. The look on his face wasn't easy to decipher. Before Vivienne could part her lips to say something, he would tell her to shut up before proceeding to kiss her once more. Between the kisses all he said was once thing.

"Damn you Vivienne."