You had met A.J at a previous event the other night and you had finally given in to him pestering you about a date. Grant you, he was offensively impolite and lacked consideration of others but you figured it was more so of his in-ring character that would soon burn out as the night went on.

 However, you thought wrong. The entire night consumed of you apologizing to people on behalf of A.J’s actions. He was consistently texting during the movie, proceeded to threaten the individuals whom had politely told him to put his phone away and even went as far as complaining to a manager about how useless the theater staff was. 

You were actually astonished that you had strung through making it to dinner with him as you contemplated on excusing yourself to the restroom and dipping through the back door. However, here you were, sitting across from him, listening to yet another conversation about how you should eat more protein and drink less Starbucks coffee to stay awake. The conversation was about to proceed until a much taller gentleman peered over your table, placing down drink coasters for the both of you. 

“Good Evening folks, my name is Dean and I’ll be taking care of yo-”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” A.J sneered, glaring up at the waiter.
You cocked your head to the side, dumb founded of what was even occurring in front of you. 

Whoa there, frustrated are we?” Dean chuckles, pulling out his notepad. “How about I start you off with some drinks? Take the edge off.” He winks, continuing on. “It is happy hour, 2 for 1 margaritas anyone?" 

Despite Dean’s effort into up selling, A.J refused to let him resume his act. "Listen Ambrose, I don’t care if we are in the ring or in a fucking restaurant, I will gladly kick your ass anywhere. Especially after you trying to sabotage my date.”

Dean turns his head, examining your presence completely ignoring A.J’s attempt into threatening him. “M'lady, can I get you anything to drink? Margarita? Martini? Bloody Mary?" 

A slight tinge of pink brushed over your cheeks as Dean made eye contact with you. "I’ll have.. uhm, I’ll just have a water, thank you.” You smile, putting your head down in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks. 

A.J rolled his eyes, slumping back into his seat. “I’ll have a beer Ambrose, and make it quick." 

Dean nods, turning away from your table and mobbing his way to the back of the restaurant as it is a full house on a Saturday.

"So, I’m guessing you know that guy?” You question to A.J, jutting your chin over to Dean whom has been sneaking glances at you. 

“It’s a long story.” A.J sighs with a roll of his eyes.
Dean makes his way back to your table, placing your water on the coaster and setting a kids cup beside A.J.

“What the hell is this?” A.J shouts, chucking the kid size cup back at Dean.

“Well, I thought since you seem to act like a child, you probably would like to drink like one too.” Dean retorts with a shrug, not even cracking a smile.

You cover your mouth, striving to hold back a giggle only causing A.J to become more irritated.

“I’ve fucking had it.” He announces, rising up from his chair and nearly launching at Dean only to be stopped by the manager of the restaurant.Dean stepped back gracefully as A.J began to cause a scene with the manager. He stooped down to be at level with you, rubbing his ginger tint scruff. “So, uh, you like Pizza? There’s a parlor down the street." 

The blush from your cheeks began to appear once again. "I would love too.” You smile, taking Dean’s hand and brushing past A.J.

James going to Dean for advice on how to ask you out but you and Dean have lowkey been banging backstage.

James; “I’ve tried getting her attention but she always seems too exhausted to hold a conversation with me. Y’know what I mean?”

Dean: *mumbles* “Oh do I.”

Hormones - Dean Ambrose Imagine

“There’s a difference between a crib and a bassinet, Dean.” You huff, shuffling inside your shared flat.

“(Y/N), Darlin’, either way the baby will be sleeping in one of the two. I don’t understand why you can’t just pick one.” He sighs, sliding his leather jacket off and placing it onto the hook.

His open response sends a slight nip in your flow causing your reply to come off strong. “Oh sure, why don’t I just pick one. Why don’t I just be concerned about what our child sleeps in.”

“(Y/N), I just had to sit through an hour car ride with you debating on damn bassinets and baby cribs. I think I’ve had enough time of consideration” He retorts.

The response hits you harder than it was intended too. Being 26 weeks pregnant wasn’t exactly amusing and with your hormones sprinting around all over the place didn’t exactly make it trouble-free either.

“Oh, I’m sorry you had to be attentive to my constant bitching about what our child should sleep in.” You reply.

“Jesus Christ, you’re more of a lunatic than I am.” He mumbles, brushing past your presence and making his way into the kitchen.

His statement pierces your patience resulting you to waddle your way behind him, being cautious with your pace. “Once again, I apologize for being the lunatic that seems to be the only one to care for anything involving our baby.” You counter harshly.

Dean lets out a breathy laugh, turning his figure towards yours. “So now this has turned into me not caring?” He questions before continuing on. “I’m the one going on food runs at 2 in the morning to satisfy your cravings, I’m the one helping you get your damn shoes off because you can’t reach your feet, I’m the one holding your hair back when you’re hurling over the toilet every damn morning. Don’t sit here and tell me I don’t care.” He states.

Frustration blankets your entire body as your only response is to cry causing Dean to perplex. His shoulders that were once tight begin to loosen up as he pulls you into his arms, gently rubbing your back.

“Baby, no..” He mumbles into your hair, embracing your petite frame.  "I’m sorry..“

Despite Dean’s comfort, your weeping continues on; more so of the fact that you felt bad. Sure, you had been snippy from the hormones but it was no excuse to hound him. He did tend to your every need and never questioned twice about it.

His hands soothingly trace down your back, as your tears subsided into heavy eyelids and quiet yawns. It was no secret that the hormones exhausted you, Dean knew it himself.

Cautiously sweeping you up bridal style, he carries you to the bedroom stamping a few kisses to your forehead. "I swear (Y/N), if I didn’t love you so much..” He begins only to be interrupted by your faint snores causing him to smirk and take in more of the love he has for you.