Going Soft. Cm Punk.

going soft. cm punk.

cm punk x reader

synopsis: when punk goes on a podcast the whole world finds out just how soft he is for his girlfriend.

punk hadn’t expected to enjoy this podcast as much as he was. he’d been on enough to know the beats, a little banter, a few nostalgic wrestling stories, some inevitable teasing. but this one had a laid-back energy, and the host clearly knew his stuff, not just about wrestling, but comics, pop culture, and all the weird corners of interest that Punk cared about. they were nearly forty minutes in, and it had been mostly harmless fun, batman debates, injury horror stories, and a detour into punk’s very strong feelings about pineapple on pizza.

then the host grinned across the table and said, "so, we’ve talked wrestling, pipe bombs, and the joker’s overrated plans but let’s pivot. fans want to know, what’s going on outside the ring these days? you’ve mellowed out a bit, haven’t you?"

punk chuckled, sensing the shift. "i don’t know about mellowed out" he said, leaning back in his chair. "i still yell at clouds on twitter. but yeah, life’s good. i’ve got someone who keeps me grounded."

the host raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased. "the mystery woman makes an appearance. you’ve been keeping that low-key."

"i try. i don’t need the whole world in our business", punk replied with a shrug. "but she’s awesome. smart, funny, way cooler than me. And patient. god, so patient. you have to be, to put up with my cranky ass."

the host laughed and pointed at him. "you’re smiling like a dork right now."

punk blinked. "am i?"

"you don’t even realize how soft you just got. dude, you went from ‘pipe bomb’ to ‘puppy love’ in thirty seconds."

punk rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. "she’s got that effect, i guess. i don’t notice it when i’m talking about her. feels normal."

there was a brief pause, and then, more quietly, he added, "it’s weird. you go through life thinking you’re this lone wolf. you make peace with it. then someone shows up, looks at you like you’re worth something, even on your worst days and suddenly you’re checking her grocery list and reorganizing your whole damn house just so she has drawer space."

the host let out a laugh that bordered on a wheeze. "so what you’re saying is, cm punk the most dangerous man with a mic, is out here living the domestic dream."

"hey", punk said, mock-defensive. "don’t get it twisted. i’ll still fight a dude in a parking lot. but i’ll text her first to let her know I’ll be late."

that set the host off again. "that’s love, man. that’s growth."

punk laughed too, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression softening despite himself. "she makes things better just by being around. she doesn’t try to change me, and somehow that makes me want to be better. you don’t come across people like that often."

"does she know she’s got you like this?"

"oh, she knows", punk said with a smirk. "doesn’t abuse the power. well, not much."

"you’re whipped."

"i’m in love. big difference."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

later that night, you sat curled up on the couch, one of his hoodies drowning you, headphones in, phone clutched loosely in your hand as the podcast played. you were at the exact part where he started talking about you, really talking about you and the smile on your face couldn’t have been stopped if you tried.

you watched him out of the corner of your eye as he walked into the room, pausing mid-step when he saw you grinning.

"you’re listening to it, aren’t you?" he asked, already looking like he regretted opening his mouth on the show.

you paused the episode dramatically and turned to him. "she’s got this stupid laugh", you quoted, placing a hand over your heart. "poetic."

he groaned and dropped down onto the couch beside you, burying his face in your shoulder. "i knew that was gonna come back to haunt me."

"you’re soft", you teased, laughing as you stroked his hair.

"i was ambushed", he said into your hoodie. "i thought we were gonna talk about bane and joker, not my undying devotion."

you kissed the top of his head and pulled him closer. "for the record", you murmured, "i love your cranky ass. especially when you get all mushy without realising."

he sighed but didn’t move. "remind me to never speak publicly again."

"too late. the world knows", you teased, resting your chin on his head. "you’re whipped."

he tilted his head up just enough to look at you. "yeah", he said simply, his voice low and honest. "i am"