Dean Ambrose one shots

I'll be home soon

I'll Be Home Soon by Kelly H.

Angsty fluffy one shot, featuring Dean Ambrose(Jon Moxley)/unnamed OC. Brief appearance by Renee Young.

Category: WWE - Rating: G .

A/N: Lyrics belong to Melissa Etheridge.

It was a frigid November night, and while the man professionally known as Dean Ambrose was toasty warm on the tour bus that was taking him onto the next city—he couldn’t even remember where he was supposed to be next—he couldn’t have felt colder inside, or more frustrated. Jon tried very hard to keep his personal life just that—personal—and yet more and more these days, Jon was finding himself in a position where he had to bite his tongue to keep from tearing a fan’s head off verbally for not respecting this.

He hadn’t seen her in weeks, how many he couldn’t be sure, but every day they spent apart felt like a year to him. The schedule he kept for work was beyond demanding, and when he was home, Jon could barely muster the effort to care for and be attentive to his dogs before collapsing into bed and sleeping for a day straight. He tried his best to call or at least shoot her a text before he did this, but sometimes he just couldn’t, and yet she was the one person in his life that didn’t demand something from him. She was the one person who understood that he was doing the very best he could, and her patience with him was something Jon would be eternally grateful for. It was for this reason that he tried so hard to protect her, shelter her from the chaos that came with being associated with him. Jon carried her picture in his pocket, and took it out at night on the bus—while everyone else slept—just to make sure he wouldn’t be seen doing so. He knew better than he’d ever let on what was said about him online, and how rabid the female half of his fanbase had become. If Jon could help it at all, he would never let her be exposed to that.

The Europe tour, which he’d just returned home from, had been hell. He was well aware of the way he’d come off to people, and he didn’t really give a damn at this point. Jon had promised her that he would try his best to get together with her before he left, and hadn’t been able to do so. He was angry with himself for not trying harder, angry with WWE for being so demanding, and angry at the fans for continuing to pry into his private life. He was tired, he was burned out, and most of all he was ready to be home for more than a couple of days. Of course she’d found it out—how she always managed to find these things out still baffled him—but she’d insisted that she understood, that she was happy to wait her turn, and then she’d reminded him that she knew exactly what she had signed up for.

“If I had my way, beautiful girl, you’d never have to wait,” he murmured, gently stroking the image of her face with his thumb.

Keeping my eyes open, I cannot afford to sleep,

Giving away promises I know that I can’t keep,

Nothing fills the blackness that has seeped into my chest,

I need you in my blood, I am forsaking all the rest,

Just to reach you,

Just to reach you,

Oh, to reach you…

“Oh, so this is the mystery woman.”

Jon cringed as he heard a soft voice behind him, and glanced up to see the face of Renee Young popped over the top of his seat.

“Can you please not say anything? I’m trying to keep her away from all the bullshit.”

Renee was one of the few people Jon trusted enough to even know about her. Renee understood, and kept his relationship in confidence. That being said, he had never taken out the picture around her. He didn’t wanna take the chance that someone would get a glimpse of it and post it on their Twitter account or worse, their Instagram.

“Y’know, I know how it feels to be away so much. I miss Norm like crazy when we’re both working, especially because Burger goes with him,” she mused, not even bothering to address the comment he’d just made, as she stared off out the window. “It makes the days when we actually get to be together that much more special. You could always have her fly out to Vegas and crash with the furballs until you get home. Didn’t you say the big one missed momma?”

“He misses her alright, he misses inserting himself between us and giving me a dirty look before he shoves me over and takes my spot,” Jon griped.

“Oh be nice, the big guy’s never had a mom before. It’s not like you make a habit of bringing women home,” Renee retorted.

“It’s because she baby talks him and spoils him. The last time she was at the house while I was away, she let him sleep in bed next to her. Said she felt safer knowing he was looking after her, and ever since then, he’s been a big jerk over sharing her, not to mention I can’t get him out of my bed. That asshole dead weights me and then she scolds me.”

“Like you don’t spoil the little one, Jon.”

“It’s different, she’s a baby and she gives me that pitiful look.”

“Uh huh, whatever you say. Anyway, I’m gonna lean back here and try to get some shuteye while I can. Think about what I said, yeah? We have a five day stretch after the tapings tonight, and I bet you’d rest a lot better with her next to you.”

“…If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were workin’ me.”

“Me? Never. But I bet she’s still awake if you wanted to talk to her.”

“You think?”

“From what you’ve said about her sleeping habits? I’d say it’s a safe bet. And I’m not gonna leave you alone until you do, because you’ve been a grouchass the entire tour.”

Jon rolled his eyes as Renee beamed at him, sighing in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll text her. See? Already got the phone out.”

Come to my window,

Crawl inside, wait by the light of the moon,

Come to my window,

I’ll be home soon…

As soon as he heard Renee settle back into her own seat, Jon began typing, hoping he’d make enough sense to convey his wishes. He hadn’t slept worth a fuck in days, and he wasn’t sure he had the ability to be coherent anymore at this point. Five minutes later, he tapped the send button on his phone, and began tapping his foot impatiently, hoping he hadn’t woken her, but selfishly praying for a quick response. Two minutes later, he was rewarded with a short but sweet reply, letting him know that she had already booked a flight, and was packing her suitcase. That she missed him and she loved him, and that yes, she remembered where the hide-a-key was, now go to sleep, damn it.

As the first genuine smile in three weeks stretched across Jon’s face, he began to think about the gifts he’d brought back from the UK, and wondered what she’d say when she found her key to his house waiting inside the tea tin, instead of the loose tea she would be expecting.

“I’ll be home soon, beautiful.”