Y/N walks down the aisle to marry Theoric, and Loki is nowhere in sight…
Characters: Y/N, Theoric, Loki, Frigga, Odin
Warnings: fluff
Word Count: 1570
Note: Here is the final instalment of Promises! I might write a honeymoon *eye wiggle* epilogue if enough people ask for one. Otherwise, I hope you all have enjoyed this series as much as I have writing it. Please do not hesitate to give constructive criticism, like, reblog, or shoot me a request. Enjoy!
Frigga stood under an arch set up on the edge of the Bifrost. The courtiers stood in a semicircle with a gap down the middle from where you stood to the arch. Banners fluttered in the wind as your parents walked on either side of you, holding your hands in theirs. In front of you, Frigga stood waiting with Theoric. He smiled at you, eyes gleaming. You beamed back at him but searched with the corners of your eyes.
Green and gold were nowhere to be seen.
You stepped onto the edge of the Bifrost feeling less content and more unsure. Theoric took your hands from your parents. His felt like ice against the nervous heat in yours. He gave them a squeeze as Frigga began.
“There is nothing more perfect in all the branches of Yggdrasil than the coming together of two souls. Two pasts becoming one future. Lord Theoric, please present your future to your bride.”
Theoric reached to his side and unclipped the scabbard there. He unsheathed the blade halfway and held it out in front of his face. “This blade of my ancestors I pass along to you to one day pass along to our sons. May you keep it as a sign of my love and trust for you.” He sheathed it with a click and handed it to you. You, in turn, handed it back to your parents in exchange for another blade.
Holding the blade out like Theoric did you said, “this blade, newly forged, is a symbol of my love and my trust in you to defend me and our children.” He took it and clipped it to his side.
Frigga took a brightly coloured ribbon from an attendant. She brought your and Theoric’s right hands together and began to wrap the ribbon around them. “Do you, Theoric Sindrison of Anaheim, take Y/N to be your wife in all things wonderful, and all things terrible, till eternal separation?”
“I do.”
“And do you, Y/N of Asgard, take Theoric to be your husband in all things wonderful, and all things terrible, till eternal separation?”
With Kurt Angle’s job in the balance, the entire roster is on edge. The reader is able to keep her head in the middle of the chaos and helps where she can.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence
Word Count: 2800
Note: Thank you all for being so patient with this series. I hope you like this chapter too! If you do, feedback is appreciated and the tag list is open. Enjoy!
August 27, 2018 – Monday Night Raw – Toronto, Ontario
“I have to agree with management. The best and only way Monday Night Raw should open every week is with the spotlight focused on me.” Elias frowned at the dissenters and rewarded the faithful with an irritated strumming. “You can disagree all you like, it won’t change a thing. WWE will still stand for-“ he paused for the audience’s response, “and Toronto will still be the last place on earth where I’d want to make my announcement.”
Elias plucked at the strings waiting for the crowd’s anger to die down. When they didn’t, he sighed. “I can wait here all night until you shut your mouths. You are going to hear what I have to say. You need to hear it because it concerns the future of my Intercontinental Championship.” That seemed to quiet them down enough. “Better. Next week I am going to have a concert. In between my music, there will be tournament matches to determine the number one contender. I will face them at Hell in a Cell.”
The crowd liked that idea, cheering loudly. Elias grumbled. “I don’t know why your so peppy to see one of your favorites lose. And that’s if anyone steps up.” He turned in his stool and faced the stage. “The mic is open to anyone who thinks they could take this accolade from me.” The arena filled with a hush as they waited for anyone to show up.
As Chad Gable’s music started, Elias nodded. Gable posed at the top of the ramp and pointed at the ring. Or more accurately, the title around Elias’s waist.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sunil Singh walked out onto the stage, “please welcome your former WWE champion, your former United States champion, and the future Intercontinental champion, the modern-day Maharaja, Jinder Mahal!” He stepped to one side, far away from Gable, and waited for Jinder to enter the arena. The wrestler stepped onto his red carpet made of light and then to the side, glaring at both Gable and Elias.
The stage’s screens were filled with static. Electric guitar was cut off and the arena filled with the cry of ‘burn it down!” Seth Rollins stepped onto the stage, then paused. His music ended and was quickly replaced by the guitar riff of Dean Ambrose. After Dean came out, they stood together in the middle of the stage and stared-down the men to their right and left.
“So be it.” Elias unhooked his title belt and raised it high, taunting his possible opponents.
***
Dean bumped into Roman backstage. “I have a plan, Uce.”
Roman’s eyebrows arched. “Oh, really. Should I be scared?” he kidded. He smiled as Dean lightly punched his shoulder.
“No. You don’t have a match planned for tonight yet, and I don’t want to wait till next week to do something. And my man No Way Jose hasn’t done anything in a while.”
Now Roman was confused. “Triple… threat?”
“No! You and Jose have a match, and I’ll referee.” He beamed, arms outspread as if presenting a golden goose. His brother’s expression suggested it was more like an egg. “Come on. You haven’t fought him yet. His style is different, he’s got better dance moves than me-“
“Nobody has better moves than you.”
“-and I haven’t gotten to oversee a match in a while. I bought the shirt and everything. Upgraded it too.” He tugged a black and white striped shirt out of his back pocket. Over the pocket, his logo had been stitched in. Messily. He wiggled it. When Roman sighed, he smiled even brighter in triumph.
“Alright. Let’s get this thing set up.” Roman rested his hand on the back of Dean’s neck after ruffling his hair while he could before Dean bounced away.
***
You were just about to start an interview with Chad Gable when there was the tell-tale roar of Braun Strowman. Many people turned and left the other way, including your interviewee. Not that you could blame him with an important match to have next week. You, on the other hand, could not keep your feet from running towards danger. You turned a corner and nearly tripped over the carnage that he was throwing around. “Braun! Braun! Please, stop.”
The monster stopped mid-throw. “Why?”
“Because if you don’t then we can’t help you.” You were shocked when Braun put down the trestle he was holding. You let out the breath you were holding. “That was quick, um. Okay. What do you want?”
“I want to smash Finn Balor’s face in.”
Were you expecting another answer? Not really. “Fair enough. Um, but nobody’s been able to find him. Which kinda means he’s not here tonight-“
“I’ve noticed.” He glared at the trestle and you interrupted his train of thought again.
“… so do you have a second option?”
He thought it over. “Samoa Joe’s gone. Fighting Jinder’s too easy, give or take a Singh.” When he stopped you hummed in agreement and motioned him to continue. “Roman’s here, but he’s already got a match tonight.”
If those were all his options, you would have to think of another. What about… “What about Seth Rollins? They’ve got a similar style and have both been champions. He’s had beef with Finn too. Ask him if he wants to have a little mutual practice. So, iron sharpens iron.”
Braun liked that idea. He smiled, which was a bit terrifying, and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” He went off to find Seth, clapping your shoulder heavily on his way by. You gasped and rubbed it with a pitiful ‘ow.’
***
Roman was waiting in the ring when No Way Jose’s music came on. He laughed openly and loudly when he spotted Dean in his ref shirt at the end of the conga line. As they danced their way into the ring, he leaned and against the ropes and shook his head. This was either going to be brilliant or a catastrophe.
Dean had the men face each other. Neither seemed to care when he started into the boxing spiel. “Alright. I want a clean fight with clean breaks. Go to your corners and come out swingin’.” While they stepped back, he looked over past the announce table and circled his hand in the air. “Ring the bell.”
They didn’t really know where to start. Frustrated, Dean pointed at each man and then at the center of the ring. When all they would do was circle one another, he exaggerated his sigh and stopped Roman’s pacing. He stood shoulder to shoulder him and raised his fists then did the same with Jose. He bounced on his toes as they met in a headlock, pushing and spinning until Roman gained the upper grip and forced Jose back into the ropes. Jose dipped under them and waved Roman off. Dean came in and counted quickly to four. Roman squinted at him and backed off.
Tapping his wrist, Dean answered, “we gotta schedule to keep, Uce.”
The match continued with Roman and Jose doing their best to fall into a rhythm that would benefit them. Dean watched happily, calling counts and near-pin-falls as needed. At one point he was sitting on a turnbuckle and had to hop to the outside of the ring as Roman tossed Jose into the corner. He counted, slower and closer to real time, as Roman hit Jose with his forearm ten times.
Jose was quick. Which frustrated Roman to no end and delighted Dean. He was able to avoid spears and superman punches with cat-like ease. With each miss, he would jive to another part of the ring while Roman got more and more frustrated.
Roman’s frustration turned into victorious offense. He slowed Jose down and disorientated him enough to plant him with a spear. Dean made a fair three count, and proudly raised Roman’s hand in victory, celebrating and hugging him. Dean paused just long enough to shake Jose’s hand and thank him before joining his bother for the exit.
***
“Hey, Y/N.”
Seth’s voice made you look up from your notes. You smiled at him as he trotted up. “Hey.”
“Not to freak you out or anything, but is there a reason why you suggested me as a Finn stand-in for Braun?”
You froze. It took you a second to come up with an answer. “Honestly… I panicked. I mean, it’s Braun; he’s a bit imposing. And I’m not and super short. But the Summer Slam match made me feel not so helpless, and then I know you and Finn have fought since forever. So, it all jumbled together, and your name came up. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to tell Kurt he needs to find someone else?”
“No, I’ll talk to him.” He smiled to put you at ease, which you appreciated. “Don’t worry about it.” He dropped his hand on your shoulder with a thud and left. Your bad shoulder. That Braun had just bruised.
You frowned in Seth’s general exit direction. “Ow,” you grumbled, massaging your shoulder.
***
Nia handed her title to the ref for safekeeping and eyed her opponent for the night. It was a local woman with a name Nia didn’t really remember even though it had just been announced. Amelia? Celia? Either way, it didn’t matter. This was just to keep her in action while she waited for the division to work itself out.
The bell rang.
To her credit, the woman wasted no time to begin an assault. She had Nia on the defensive from the start and maintained it for a few minutes. Then Nia was able to catch the woman’s incoming hand. Nia grinned sweetly, almost as if apologizing. The woman shrieked as Nia used her hold to bounce her off the ropes into a clothesline. While she was catching her breath, Nia bounced as well and landed a leg drop.
A three-count and thirty seconds later, she had her title across her shoulder once again. And she was ready to see how the main event would unfold.
***
The pain in your shoulder had intensified enough that you were trying to rotate it out when Kurt walked up.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?” you asked. With a snap, you connected the dots. “Braun. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed that slows people down around here, it’s making them think with their heads and not with their fists. Actions may speak louder than words, but sometimes things get lost in translation. I take it there’s a Seth Rollins versus Braun Strowman match tonight?
He was impressed. “Yeah. And Seth agreed to it. Something about how ‘iron sharpens iron?’” He grinned as you shrugged. “Well it worked, so thank you.”
“No problem. Glad to help.”
Kurt turned to leave but gave you his attention for a split second more. “If I haven’t said it before, we appreciate you joining the team. You’re doing a great job.” You flinched as his hand clapped down on your shoulder. Hissing, you rubbed the sore spot harder than before.
***
Seth versus Braun went differently than everyone was expecting. There wasn’t a major goal for Seth, but he was still giving his all. Braun was being just as brutal as usual. Seth was quick and it was giving Braun trouble but that wasn’t the issue.
Braun was calm.
He didn’t give in to frustration or gloating. If anything, it was making him more dangerous to fight because Seth couldn’t read him. Which made Seth have to step up. Which in a normal match would have driven Braun to distraction. He maintained his controlled pace. Catching Seth. Grounding him. Letting the crowd use up all the excess energy that would feed his powerful rage.
The calm snapped when the red heartbeat took over the arena.
Finn, or was it Balor, showed up on the Titantron. His black leather jacket was almost indistinguishable from the back scene. At first glance, it was definitely Finn. But as he spoke and twisted to emphasize words, the bloody ring around his neck became visible. Seth stepped back and crouched into a corner, wondering who the blood once belonged to.
“Ya have my attent’on, Braun.”
The monster started pacing back and forth. Seth crouched lower; better to let the monster and the demon do battle and stay out of the way, he had enough of his own problems. All of the resolve formerly in Braun was a distant memory. Balor chuckled, his eyes flicking back and forth to keep up.
“Earlier ya said ya wanted to punch my face in. So, how about a little challenge? Next week there will be a fatal four-way, yerself included. If ya come out on top of t’at, then ya are welcome to take a little trip ta Hell… for this.” Balor raised the Universal title into view, causing Braun to stop. The demon king smirked as Braun’s knuckles turned white around the top rope.
Braun growled low and spoke loud, “I’ll see you there.”
Balor nodded. “Perhaps.” Then he was gone.
Seth and the ref flinched when Braun roared. They stayed as still as possible while he stood in furious contemplation. He left the match and the arena, uncaring of the ref’s count. There were bigger problems on the horizon.
***
The crowd was jittery and on the edge of their seats by the main event. Alexa Bliss and Alicia Fox started off first. Their fight ended up on the floor, where Alicia gained her much-needed advantage. To beat the count, Alicia rolled Alexa back into the ring. The goddess of WWE didn’t realize how much trouble she was in until her opponent was landing on her from the top turnbuckle, rendering her unable to kick out of the pin.
Alicia would survive through Mickie James as well. Her demise came at the hands of Bayley, who kept her exhausted body locked together in the middle of the ring. Several Bayley to bellys later, she was pinned.
Bayley didn’t celebrate past a victory pose in the corner before Dana came down to the ring. They were still battling it out when Sasha came out too. She circled the ring, always making sure she was in Bayley’s sights. When she hopped up onto the apron, Bayley tugged Dana to the canvas by her hair and went after her. Sasha dropped to the floor, keeping her engaged in a screaming match.
Dana made it to her feet and lifted Bayley off hers, bench pressing her over her shoulders and letting her drop, then holding on for dear life for the pin. She celebrated for a second, but Sasha was already out there and quickly took her out of the running.
The crowd was conflicted when Rhonda Rousey entered the ring next. Some still believed she was getting to move too fast, others wanted to see how her submission hold would stand up against the Bank Statement. It was soon answered as Sasha battered Rhonda’s sides and spine before flipping her into the hold. Had she also taken care of her legs, perhaps she wouldn’t have been able to crawl to the bottom rope. Rhonda retaliated with a similar tactic. She extended her focus to include injuring her shoulders and stomach, which helped preventing Sasha from being able to bend out of her hold. She tapped before her arm broke.
Moonlight flooded the stage. Ember Moon was next in line for the opportunity at the championship. She deftly avoided Rhonda’s well-aimed attacks and targeted her recent weaknesses. Cheers of encouragement followed her as Ember climbed to the top turnbuckle. Stunned by an earlier kick to the stomach, Rhonda turned and straightened just in time to be Eclipsed. Ember screamed in victory. She was only one more win away from Hell in a Cell when Natalya raced to the ring.
Formerly on the edge of their seats, the audience was on their feet. Swift. Piercing. Dangerous is how Corey described both women. The last round was one that exhausted those not even involved. Luck beat them to it. Natalya crashed on top of Ember and won the count.
At Hell in a Cell, it was going to be Natalya Hart versus Nia Jax for the Raw Women’s Championship.
***
Backstage, Kurt finished typing in a number on his phone. His expression was a mixture of pride and resignation while he waited for the other side to answer.
“I think I may have found an answer to your problem. Yes, I can meet you at the main office tomorrow. Yes, I have absolute confidence in this solution.”
Warnings/Promises: hastily written smut, suit!Dean, some dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fluffy-ish ending, no cut and NSFW (no gifs, just the text is SUPER smutty)
Word Count: 590
Note: It was move-in week, so this is super short. But it’s also very to the point. Enjoy!
Case-forced celibacy was the worst. It made everybody antsy and short-tempered. Mistakes were made. Things were said that weren’t true. Other things were left unsaid. So when those cases ended, you welcomed the idea of not being able to walk for a week.
“Come here.”
You did as Dean told you, stepping to the spot on the floor he was pointing to. It brought you chest-to-chest with him. He was clothed in his suit while yours had already piled on the floor. You hissed as he yanked your head back by your hair and sucked at your neck. He walked forward until your back crashed into your bedroom wall making some pictures rattle. Your hands frantically pulled at his suit shirt, but he batted your hands away. When you persisted, he tossed you onto the bed and pinned your wrists above your head.
“No,” he growled. “It’ll be better if you don’t try to move. Because I am going to make you cum and cum and cum until you can’t move anyway.” He silenced any rebuttal by ravaging your mouth until you couldn’t breathe. His hands gripped at your hips while his bucked. You could feel how hot and hard he was through the cloth. “Y/N,” he moaned against your skin. Rough, nipping kisses crossed down your body as his hands traveled up to your breasts. Those bright green eyes stayed on the placement of your wrists, smirking when you grabbed onto the headboard.
You shrieked. Dean dove int your sex. He lapped and sucked and hungrily did everything in his power to make you arch off the bed. His hands abandoned your breasts to control your thighs. He kept them from clamping around his head, spreading them as wide as your sore muscles could handle. Dean growled into you as you begged.
“Keep talkin’, Y/N. It’s the only voice you’re going to have for a while after this.”
Already he was making good on his promise. You were crying out when Dean curled two fingers into your heat. Whimpers. Screams. Mewling. Groveling. He wanted it all. And he took it all in exchange for mind-blurring pleasure. By the time he was crawling up your body again, you had come at least three times and you could barely feel your legs. At some point, he had shed his shirt and you could see his sweat-glistening muscles from under lidded eyes.
The sound of his zipper brought you back from faded consciousness.
A wrangled puff of air was all you could give as he thrust into you in one breath. You held onto the headboard for dear life as Dean fucked you as hard as you needed it. As desperately as he needed it. The headboard thumped wildly against the wall. Skin on skin was occasionally overcome by Dean’s grunts or your hoarse screams. Your body was raging. Your toes, fingertips, and nipples were cold. Dean’s eyes were still watching you. Blazing and intense enough to make you come at his bidding. He fell forward and took your hands, bringing you almost nose to nose. His eyes finally closed while his hips stuttered.
You were crushed under his weight, not that you cared. Your hands were your own once again. Dean gasped as you clawed down his back and flexed your walls, not that he cared. Neither of you cared what had been said or unsaid during the case.
So I went to my therapist the other day, and later in the appointment I mentioned that I like to write self-insert fiction to cope. I also said that I generally hide it and felt embarrassed mentioning it due to the way people treat the concept online.
She said that self-inserting yourself into art and writing is an incredibly healthy way to feel good about yourself, and that she was appalled when I told her about the way it’s mocked on the internet.
So never feel bad about self-inserting or enjoying reader insert fanfiction, 1/1 professionals agree that it’s good for you and that the jerks who say you’re doing something wrong are just uneducated and don’t understand. Never listen to the anons who try to make you feel bad ❤
Have a really nice day!
make that 2/2 professionals. my therapist talked about this too. she also talked about projecting onto characters and said that was an extremely healthy way to cope with things that you’re dealing with and things that have happened to you!!
The reader gets a slight injury in a match. Roman takes his time making sure the reader is safe but very satisfied.
Pairing: Dom-ish!Roman Reigns x Wrestler!Wife!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, SMUT, dirty talk, slight bondage, begging, Roman being a teasing little shit, multiple orgasms
Word Count: 2230
Note: This came out way dirtier than I was anticipating. Thus, why it took over three months to write. Have fun babes; reactions greatly appreciated. Tag lists and requests open, as always. Enjoy!
It was a test match. The McMahons wanted to see if the universe would like more coed matches, and you and Roman were the test. They’d given you both a heads up, so you’d added weight training to your routine on top of sparing with Sheamus. So far it was doing you good. Your usual speed was keeping Roman on his toes, and it looked like you were wearing him down.
That was not the case.
Roman was a better actor than people gave him credit for. One second you were steady on your feet about to jump, the next you were flying through the air. You landed hard on your back, though you were able to sweep Roman’s feet out from under him. Holding his ankles in a lock, pain blossomed in your spine.
“I need you to spear me,” you whispered.
“What?”
“I need you to spear me. Got something to pop back into place.”
Roman squinted at you but eventually made it to his feet. He positioned himself in the opposite corner, waiting for you to get into position. He roared. You staggered towards him, turning at the last second. Right before the count of three you contorted out of the pin and felt your spine crack back into alignment.
“Thanks,” you mumbled.
The match went on. You were also taking the chance to tease Roman in the ring. At one point you nose-booped him and rolled out of the ring. He looked at you with an expression between ‘you’re going to pay for that’ and ‘just wait until I get you in my bed.’ Either way, your skin buzzed with the possibilities.
You lost in the end, but Roman tugged you to your feet for a handshake. “You’re gonna get checked out, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a chiropractor appointment tomorrow already.”
Backstage, Renee was waiting for you. “Y/N, you lost your match with Roman Reigns, but you don’t seem too upset.”
“No. That was a hell of a match if I say so myself. I’d do that again.”
“You don’t feel any apprehension?”
“Apprehension? No. I’m totally going to be sore in the morning, but it’s worth it.” You thanked her and left to change out. You met with a few other people before heading to the garage.
Roman met you at the car. He took your bags and opened your door. A few minutes down the road he brought up the inevitable. “How’s your back?”
“It’s fine. I talked to a trainer and he’s going to give the chiropractor some other places to touch on. Then I’m going to see a muscle stretcher a few times over the next month to make sure my muscles don’t pull my newly popped bones out of place. Nothing to worry about.”
He whistled. “You can’t scare me like that, baby girl.”
You bit your lip. Reaching out, you ran your hand down his thigh. Roman smiled, but he moved your hand to your lap and changed the subject. As far as you could see, that was the only touching you were going to get. He was always gentle with you, no matter how small the injury was. Even if you didn’t count this as an injury.
When you came out of the bathroom at the hotel, Roman was shirtless in his briefs and sitting against the headboard. He motioned you over. You tried to straddle his hips, but he turned you around to sit between his legs with your back against his chest. That’s when you saw the mirror. It was on the far wall, as wide as the bed, and inspiring.
“Here’s how it’s gonna go,” he rumbled. “You are not going to move. You are not going to touch. And you are going to cum when I say. Which is anytime. Got it?” He watched you nod in the glass. “Let’s try that again, ‘cause I am going to hear you one way or another.” He kissed your temple as you squeaked out something like a yes. “Good.”
Your breathing started to come out in short bursts as Roman slid his large hands up your sides and removed your shirt. They covered your upper chest almost entirely. He breathed deeply and kissed the juncture of your neck, guiding you to relax into him. His hands were warm, even compared to your flushed skin. He kneaded your breasts while sucking a light mark into your neck. You gave a soft whimper when he thumbed your nipples to attention.
Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.
Your nails raked long thin welts into the tops of his thighs. More than anything your body wanted to buck and grind against the sheets for some relief.
“You doing okay, baby girl?”
“Yes,” you breathed.
“Good.” Roman kissed the back of your neck and directed your attention to the mirror. “Look at you. Already strung out and I’ve barely gotten started.” One of his hands dipped lower on your stomach, stopping just above your sleeping shorts. “I bet if I were to check, you’d be dripping already.”
With a whine, you nodded. Your hands twitched and moved from his thighs to yours.
“No touching.” He nipped at your ear and moved your hands back to their original place. “If you can’t behave, I’ve got ways to make you.” His chuckle rumbled against your back. Then his hands were on your chest again, pinching and playing you higher and higher. In the mirror, his eyes latched onto yours. In the shadow you cast over his face, you could just make out a smirk. “You’re doing so good,” he hummed. “Staying still like a good girl. Though I can feel how much you want to move. To close those pretty legs or touch what I’m in control of. You know what would happen if you did any of those things?”
You moaned as his hands slid down your body and came to rest on the inside of your thighs. Oh no, he wouldn’t be so cruel. Right?
“Then this,” he ran a finger up the outside of your shorts, “wouldn’t get touched at all tonight. And you would have to be content to cum just because I’m playing with these perfect tits.” His hands were suddenly back on your breasts, pinching the nipples harder than before. Your legs shivered closed but Roman hooked your ankles under his and dragged them back open. “That’s two, Y/N.”
“Roman, please.” Your head lolled back to lay against his shoulder. You closed your eyes as he ghosted across your sensitive skin. Without thinking, you placed your hands on his and tried to guide them lower.
“That’s three.”
Fuck.
Roman leaned towards the side table and came back with one of your scarves. He held your wrists in front of you, tying them together. When they were secure, he pulled your arms back until your wrists were behind his neck. He caught your gaze in the mirror again, rubbing his scruff against your cheek.
“We’re going to try this one more time. Don’t move. But… you can beg all you like, baby girl.”
He started over. Teasing you with barely-there touches, then with rough squeezes that made you gasp. But you didn’t move. He hummed at your sounds, rewarding you with more of whatever you needed except where you needed it the most. You bit your lip and focused on not letting your back arch. Roman teased one hand further down your stomach.
“Please,” you whispered. “Please let me cum.”
“Nobody’s stopping you.” Roman smirked at your desperate face. “What can I do to help you, Y/N?”
“Touch me.”
“But I am.” To emphasize this, he gave your breast a tight squeeze and gave your shoulder and open-mouthed kiss. “Or did you mean down here?” The hand on your stomach dipped lower to cup your sex, making you jolt. “I thought we talked about this?”
Your mind raced. If you bucked down towards his hand he would make sure you went to bed needy. So your body settled with vibrating with desire. You would have to convince him. “But you love watching me when I cum. You set up the mirror and everything.” You whimpered as he rolled your peaks between his fingers. “I’m so close. Please, Roman. Make me cum. I’ll be good, just stop teasing. Please.” The flame in your belly intensified. Roman’s hand moved under your shorts and curled a finger into your heat. “Like that. Yes. Please, Roman. Feels so good.” Your mouth fell open, unable to form more words.
Roman watched you in the mirror as your eyes fluttered and your body shifted between rigid and limp. “Cum for me. That’s it.” He curled and uncurled, giving you just enough simulation to build with the continuous movements on your breasts to send you over. Your fingers curled into his hair and tugged. He grunted and nipped at your skin in return. “That’s my baby girl. Look at you. Breathless and relaxed. Makes me wonder if you could handle that second round I had planned.”
“Yes,” you pleaded. “I can handle it. Please, Roman?”
“Okay, okay. Just a minute.” Roman unhooked your arms from his neck and released you from the scarf. He massaged your shoulders, rubbing back in feeling you hadn’t realized you had lost. Then he maneuvered out from behind you. He guided you to lay sideways across the end of the bed.
“Wha-“
“Just a second.” He hooked his fingers under the bands of your shorts and bottoms and pulled them down your legs. Then he kneeled and breathed warm air on your soaked folds. You let out a long, low moan as he flattened his tongue against you. One hand he spread across your stomach, making sure you still wouldn’t move. The other he hooked under your ass and lifting you up closer to his face. His slurps and hums were desperate. Like he had been starving for you.
“So good, Ro. Don’t stop.”
Your hands gripped the sheets. You were almost afraid you’d rip them… but there were a lot more important things on your mind at the moment. Like how Roman had shifted his grip on you so his thumb could circle over your clit. Without warning, he sucked hard on your clit.
Don’t arch. Don’t touch. Don’t move.
You couldn’t help but weave your fingers into his hair. Roman didn’t reprimand you. He was too busy shifting again to curl two fingers into you. The need for release built up quickly. His scruff made your inner thighs burn. Your thighs quaked and your breath hesitated in your throat.
“Roman…”
“Cum, Y/N. Come on, baby girl.”
Your toes curled, and your thighs clamped around Roman’s head. His name burst from your lips in a screech. You did your best to catch your breath as he rubbed your thighs until you could relax back into the sheet. He stood but you grabbed at him.
“What about you?” you said with a pout.
“I’ll be fine.”
You reached up and rubbed your hand over his hard length showing prominently through his briefs. “No, you won’t. I can handle it.” You gave him your best puppy eyes. “Please?”
Roman chuckled. “Okay. Roll over, baby girl. It isn’t going to take much.” He helped you onto your stomach and ran his hands up either side of your spine. You watched his movements in the mirror. It made your heart swell to see how gentle was with you. His hands spread your ass cheeks wide. You clenched as his finger trailed up your slick. “Gonna make you scream. You ready?”
“Mhmm.”
“Try again.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Slowly and torturously he teased his head at your slit and worked in inch by eye-crossing inch. You sighed as his warm hand pressed lightly across the small of your back. The other curled under your stomach and lifted you up to your knees. You clenched around him, letting him know when you were adjusted. In the mirror, you saw his eyes close and his head tilt back. You could hear how strained his voice was as he moaned above you. Slow. Targeting. Each thrust had a purpose and each made you yelp. And cry out. And yes, scream. And you could tell he was holding back.
“Tell me you’re close, baby.”
“Yes. Cum, Roman. Ro-“ Words failed you as Roman reached once again for your clit. You came with a hoarse cry, collapsing forward.
Roman pulled out and covered your back with his cum. His muscles flexed all over his body, shiny in the reflection with a thin sheen of sweat. He braced on the bed on either side of your hips to catch his breath.
You blinked in and out of exhaustion. He left and came back with a damp towel and cleaned you off. You sighed as he gave you a little massage. The world shifted as he picked you up to move you back to the pillows. He crawled in behind you and pulled the sheets over you. His arm rested on your hip, rubbing his thumb across your skin.
“When you get back from the doc tomorrow, we’re going to check how well they did. Make sure those muscles are really worked out.”
You looked towards the mirror. Even the reflection couldn’t do justice to how excited you were.
The PPV has arrived, and titles are destined to change hands. It’s just a matter of which ones. Then on Monday night, there’s the fallout. Threats are made and alliances are put to the test.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, reader involved, some blood (just a tiny bit and you really won’t mind who), so much talking (got to build to the next big thing!)
Word Count: 5450 (sorry, lots to cover)
Note: Okay, so the reader’s match came out super epic and a bit long. Hopefully, you guys think it’s worth the space! (Please let me know if you do.) Any and all feedback will be loved and appreciated. Tag lists and requests open as always. Enjoy!
The wrestling highlight of the summer started on a high note. Elias was in position, his Intercontinental Championship on his waist, and his commissioned matching guitar on his knee. He didn’t fill the air with petty words. Not that he would have been heard over the insistent ‘Walk With Elias’ chants that made his chest swell with pride.
“I can feel you startin’ to get it. No longer the lost, no longer the same, and I can see you starting to ascend. I’ll keep you alive, I’ll show you the way, forever and ever. Here is your sign to anyone not from Brooklyn.” The crowd quickly turned on him, but he was finished. Nothing more to give to ‘the city pictured next to the definition of a waste of space.’
The stage screens shifted as Baron Corbin’s music began to play. Brooklyn didn’t like him much better, but at the moment they held him higher than Elias. Techies quickly took Elias’s things away so the two men could circle one another. Jojo announced the championship match and the bell rang.
Elias made the first move. As many times as he could, he knocked Baron to the canvas. Six feet versus six-eight wasn’t the worst thing, but Elias was not going to allow any benefits. He kept his opponent constantly on the defense. Occasionally, Baron would separate himself enough to catch his breath. Elias would knock it right back out of him with stomach kicks and choke holds.
His body bounced under the ropes, then Baron swung around the ring post, coming up behind a winded and unsuspecting Elias. Baron knocked him to his knees. He continued to return the favor of his earlier beating. In this round, Baron had to ensure Elias couldn’t pick up any speed or grab hold of him and cripple him with his strength. He picked Elias up for a deep six, but he spun out and turned the maneuver into a DDT in his favor.
The upper hand had shifted again. From there, it was too difficult to see who maintained it. Each man was a fantastic athlete, and each was willing to do anything to leave the ring with the white and gold. Baron was stranded on top of a corner, giving Elias the chance to jump up and flip him over onto his back. Elias wobbled to his feet and Baron hopped on his back, attempting to take him down with a chokehold. Elias backed him up to another corner, forcing Baron to step high and into Elias’s trap. Baron’s legs got caught over Elias’s shoulders just before he was flipped around and finished with a halo powerbomb.
The Intercontinental Champion had successfully defended his title once again.
***
The match for the Raw Women’s Championship was next in line for the red brand. Nia Jax entered the arena alone, proud and strong as ever. Rhonda Rousey entered with Natalya Hart, who gave her one last hug for luck before leaving to watch the match from backstage. Both looked at the belt as the ref raised it high, both wide-eyed as if dreaming a trip to the moon for the first time.
Having fought before, the women were acquainted with the other’s usual first steps. Rhonda knew better than to try for another arm-bar. Nia knew better than to get to close too soon.
“Have I put enough work in, yet?” Rhonda asked.
Nia smiled and readied her stance. “We’ll know by the end of the match.”
Rhonda did much better this time around. She was patient. She never had her back to Nia. And she waited for Nia’s weaknesses to show before making her move. Nia was impressed. Rhonda continued to evade her advances and step ahead of her plans. The match was adding up towards a cerebral battle as much as a physical one.
And it was frustrating.
The match ended when Rhonda fell back into her old habits. The habits that never worked on Nia. As a result, Nia retained her belt. She held the red and white belt up high while Rhonda slapped at the canvas. She refused Nia’s hand and stood by herself, fuming.
“So close,” Nia said, unbothered by Rhonda’s glare. “You’ve been putting in the work, and it shows. But tonight, it still wasn’t enough.”
***
You were nervous. Scratch that. You were terrified. All the training, the working out, the rage that had burned through you, none of it felt real until this moment. Roman and Seth were already on the stage staring down the crew in the ring. Dean was by your side, bouncing.
“Do you want to go out to your own music, or come out with me?” He slowed his movements to a hyper vibrating to wait for your answer.
“No. You got me music, and this is the only time I’m going to get to use it. So I’m going to use it.” You nodded once and hard. Hopefully, he couldn’t see how your hands were shaking. He left to his music, and you soon followed.
Anybody could hit anybody. You knew Mickie was going to use that as much as she could. As for you, it would be lucky if you could hold your own with anyone.
The rhythm started out quick. Seth and Mojo started the fight with no discussion. Both were quick, but Mojo’s football days came into play and he tossed Seth across the ring into your corner. Roman tagged in and tried his hand, successfully running Mojo out of the ring so Drew could rotate in. The rotations continued, and you hoped it would never end. Then Mickie tagged in. Although anyone could hit anyone, she motioned for you to participate. You gulped and let Dean tag you, then slowly made your way through the ropes.
Mickie grinned. Like a lioness toying with a field mouse. She rushed at you and you did your best to stay your ground. Still, her power lock forced you back into ropes. You yelped as she grabbed your hair and tossed you into the center of the ring.
Keep moving. Don’t stop. Can’t get caught. Dodge, dip, and roll.
Unbeknownst to you, Dolph sneaked into the ring behind the ref and behind you. Dean scurried in to help. He bounced off the ropes closest to you and flew into Dolph, knocking him to the floor. You and the ref were distracted as the other two took out Seth and Roman on the apron and engaged them in a quick bout that left your teammates unavailable for tagging. Mickie rushed you and pinned you in her corner while tagging Dolph. You spun out as quickly as you could, finding yourself like a lone island as Dolph sauntered into the ring and Mickie made sure Dean was down.
“Shall we, sweetheart?”
Oh, you were going to knock that smug look right off his face. And you would have if Seth hadn’t made it to the corner. Biting your lip and eyeing Dolph, you tagged him and shrugged. The match got back to normal with few interruptions. You even began to enjoy yourself. At one point you poked Dean in the side. “This buzz is what you feel every week? How do you not explode?” You alternated cheering on the guys and taking your turn eagerly as well as you could. The oncoming storm was inevitable, so part of you knew neither Drew, Mojo, or Mickie was going to pin you. It wasn’t their pin. And you were getting antsy to end it.
“Shall we? Ziggler?” You tripped Drew on his way by, causing him to fall in their corner. He rolled over to lean against the turnbuckles and lifted up his hand so Dolph could tag in. Your team was exhausted. His team was exhausted. You both were breathing heavily. If was going to be ever, it had to be now.
He’d been holding out. Dolph mixed his skill with every trick in the book.
And you had been trained by the Architect, the Big Dog, those Woken, and those just looking to kick lass with Flair. Schooled by the archivist and statistics manager of Titus World Wide. And above all else: you were a ‘come up swingin’ Ambrose.
Jumping off the middle rope, you spun in the air and punched Dolph in the chin as hard as you could. He fell like a log. For a split second, you were frozen. Waking up, you rolled over the top of him for the pin.
One. Two. Three.
The guys joined you in the ring. Your celebrating was interrupted by grumbling coming from the mat. You saw blonde wobble into view over Seth’s shoulder. They parted in front of you, giving you the space to superkick Dolph. You stepped to one side to feel the cheers of the crowd wash over you. The ring shivered as Dolph was triple power bombed. When you turned back around, the guys were holding their fists together over Dolph’s body.
Then they shared a look, and Roman nodded at you.
You looked between each of their faces, Dolph, and the fist bump. Anxiously you glanced at Dean who gave you a big grin and inched over. Curling your fingers together, you added your fist to the group. Your cheeks hurt from squelching the smile that threatened to erupt and your leg bounced with the excess excitement. But one more look up at Dean sent you flying. You felt yourself smiling but only registered the supreme bliss you felt.
The pose broke apart with Dean clapping his hand on your back. He chuckled when you wrapped your arms around his waist. You wouldn’t have let go any time soon except he began to muss up your hair.
“Dean! No- ahhh!” Dean lifted you into the air and threw you over the ropes to Roman, who caught you despite your scrambling to wrap your arms around his neck for stability. “Shit! Why?” Once back on the ground, you took a deep breath. “Damn, it’s like I’m five years old again.”
Seth laughed. “Like a cat.” Dean joined him on the floor.
“Hey, can’t blame me for flashbacks. What the hell, Dean?”
Dean shrugged and wrapped his arm over your shoulder once Roman put you down. “I’ve got you back. Now I’m never going to lose you again. I promise.”
***
The Braun Strowman versus Brock Lesnar match went as most people thought it would. Someone in the crowd even had a giant whiteboard with tally-marks for each suplex and F-5.
And Braun was pissed.
Everyone agreed it was rightfully so. He’d fought to this chance and now he was going to take each missed day as possible champion out of Lesnar’s hide. Those two moves were not going to be enough to hold back the monster among men this time. Lesnar’s pride and accolades couldn’t save him. Paul Heyman yelled and screamed from ringside, directing his client in ways that ended badly. The spokesperson held his head in his hands, already fearing the fallout. If Lesnar was going to go, he wasn’t going to go without completely decimating his opponent. Several times Braun was at risk of failing to answer to a ten count from outside the ring. And several more trying to get to his feet inside the ring. By the end, he couldn’t lift his boots higher than Lesnar’s knees, though that was enough considering Lensar’s exhaustion. A weak powerslam would have to do.
There was a second of silence as Braun held Lesnar down for the count of three. Then there was pandemonium.
Braun was kneeling and had the belt in his hands.
Then the stage pulsed with red light.
For a second time, the crowd erupted. Finn Balor raced down the ramp with his contract in hand. He passed it to the referee, slapping his hand against it. The ref passed it towards the techies and nodded for Jojo to make the announcement.
“Finn Balor is cashing in his Money in the Bank Contract.”
Finn ripped off his jacket, leaving him in his bright red shorts and hands that looked like they had been dipped in blood. A bright eye watched his back from between his shoulder blades.
Braun was gasping for breath and didn’t even have the energy to deny the ref ripping the Universal Title from his hands. He made it to his feet and took a deep breath. Turning, he ran right into Finn’s assault. The destructive patterns suggested that it was not fully Finn in the ring.
However he did it, Braun fell in front of a corner. Balor eyed the crowd with a wicked grin and raced to the top of the ring post. He Coup de Gras-ed the last of Braun’s oxygen out of his chest.
One. Two. Three.
Balor snatched the title and laughed. He showed it to each side of the ring. On the floor, Brock Lensar was laughing, his lip bleeding slightly. Braun wasn’t doing anything. Except trying to breathe again. Balor took this all in with the brightest smile on his face. He ran up the ramp to the stage.
With both functioning arms, Balor lifted the belt above his head. His at last, no matter the cost.
***
Monday Night Raw – August 20, 2018 – Brooklyn, NY
“Style and grace, I’m never gonna be done. Lean on in. Now Welcome to the Queendom.”
Stephanie McMahon walked down to the ring. ‘Walked’ was too delicate a word. It was something closer to stomping but veiled in having complete control. Her fingers tapped at her elbow where her arms were crossed. “Summer Slam was a hit.” She was not pleased, though the crowd agreed with her. “Titles were retained. And titles changed hands. Which brings us to the most pressing matter at hand. Mr. Angle. If you could come out here, please.”
He did. Hesitantly but with shoulders rolled back.
“Last night Brock Lesnar lost to Braun Strowman.” She was unable to continue for a minute as the crowd reacted. “-to Braun Strowman. Who then immediately lost it to Finn Balor. Mr. Angle, if could explain yourself, that would be greatly appreciated.”
Kurt was confused. “What do I need to explain? You just-“
“You need to explain why you demanded Brock Lesnar’s attendance that resulted in his loss of the Universal Title.”
“Because he is a champion. And as such he has specific obligations to the WWE Universe, such as defending it. There are rules as to how often that’s supposed to happen… but Brock hasn’t been made to stick to that by. Not as often as he should have. What happened yesterday was the inevitable.”
Stephanie chuckled. “Kurt, Kurt, that’s a big word for mistake.” She paced to the ropes and back. “Because of Finn Balor’s cash in of his contract, he cut out the possibility of Brock Lesnar’s rematch. And, as such, he would have to earn an opportunity-“
“Like every other wrestler.” Kurt chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a sight. The Beast incarnate having to fight like a common employee of this company. Such a terrible thought,” he mocked.
She nodded with pursed lips. “And Brock Lesnar doesn’t have time for that. He has made his final arrangements with the UFC and will be competing with them in the future. We had hoped that he could be the first to be champion of both, but your leadership shortcomings have ruined that.”
This was sounding like a different announcement than what Kurt had assumed. “Stephanie, I have been very clear with my leadership. I think if you would explain what you’re saying it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Brock Lesnar will no longer be competing in the WWE.” Stephanie stood fuming until the ruckus was starting to die down. “You have cost the company a great asset, Kurt. You overstepped your bounds as manager and now your ability to continue in your position is… under scrutiny. More so than it was before.”
Kurt nodded and took a deep breath. “To be a manager is to constantly put the needs of the wrestlers before my own. The time and energy it takes to wrangle the conflicting egos alone is enough to lose sleep over. Often managers have to get involved in matches. Like your brother has repeatedly. Like you and your husband, Triple H, have done. Like I did with Rhonda Rousey in Wrestlemania this year. She’s not under your thumb and now Brock Lesnar is no longer in your control. My ‘ablity’ is only under scrutiny because you’re mad that you will actually have to put in an effort to do right by your wrestlers.” He turned and bent to step out of the ring.
“Don’t you want away from me. Can’t you hear what I’m saying? You are at a high risk of losing your job. If that happens I will be finding your replacement. You may not like who I chose, so I suggest you do better if you care about ‘doing right’ by our wrestlers so much. I know you know how to do your job. You did once. We’d all like to see it again.”
“What more can I do, Stephanie?” he yelled. Planting his feet and sighing, he continued more in control. “What more can we do? For now, we both have a lot of thinking to do.” He finally left the ring, unsure about several things.
***
Despite the stiff tension that had just left the ring, Elias was proud and ready to perform. He sat on his stool and smiled brightly at the crowd.
“Another concert. Another retained championship. No matter the tune, the song stays the same. After all, WWE stands for?” He laughed as they responded enthusiastically. “Yes. Even here in this cockroach ridden hole of a town called Brooklyn. And most of those are sitting in this arena.” Elias played his guitar over the sounds of an unhappy audience. He sang one song. And after he had received praise, he sang another. “Know that tonight you are blessed. For I have been given a whole hour to give you all the concert that you need to hear.” He was beginning to play a third when music from the stage interrupted him.
“No. No. No. These people don’t need your music if you can honestly call it that.” Curt Hawkins strutted down the ramp. “What they deserve to see is the end of my losing streak. And on top of that, my first WWE championship win.”
“Your what?”
Curt smiled and entered the ring. He pointed his baton at Elias. “You heard me. Jojo, if you would.” He walked past Elias and handed his baton and mic to a techie on the floor. By the time he turned around to shadowbox, the guitar was swinging towards his face. He fell like a stone that had a tree dropped on it.
“Do not interrupt me!” Elias stomped around and crashed his guitar into the canvas next to Curt’s head. “I wish people would stop interrupting me. Every week. Every week!” He gave one last irritated kick to Curt’s side and left the ring.
***
“Kurt, listen to me,” Kevin Owens huffed and tried to keep his manager’s attention. A manager who was signing some things on your clipboard and gritting his teeth in frustration. “The Shield is not your friend. I know you fought with them last year a bit. But they… they… they’re friends with Finn Balor. That guy that’s got your job on the line. Let me challenge him-”
“Kevin, I really don’t have time for this. Do you have a point?”
Before he could answer, Elias stormed into Kurt’s office. Kevin ducked as he swung the guitar around. “Kurt, if you don’t do something about people interrupting me-“
“Man, nobody cares about your music.” Kevin tried to step back into Kurt’s focus. “Now, Kurt-“
Elias turned Kevin around and raised his splintered guitar. “Owens, if you don’t get out of my way-“
“Hey!” You passed Kurt your clipboard and stepped between the two men. “You two are better men than this. I’ve never seen you act like it.” You shook your head and your hands and tried to clear the air. “Doesn’t matter. Kevin. Get out.” He stared you down until Elias growled. Then he left in a hurry, leaving you to pop back into reality of where you were standing. “Okay. Um. The problem at hand. Right.” You glanced at Kurt and shrugged. “What about a concert series?”
“What?” they chorused.
“A, um, a series? A tournament? Maybe before each match, you can sing about your opponents, or about the city, we’ll be in. Or just play. I know how the muse can be fickle when the environment is unfriendly.” You took a second to breathe. Why did your heart feel like it was going to fly out of your chest? “Then, Mr. Angle, that keeps several of the guys busy. It’ll be an opportunity for the Intercontinental Championship, so they’ll be happy. Elias, you’ll get to show off your musical skills and more of your ring prowess. And hopefully, that will be fewer people complaining back to you, Mr. Angle.”
You waited on baited breath as the men hummed in thought.
“I like this.” Elias stepped past you and gave Kurt a hard pat on the shoulder. “Make it so.” He turned to leave but snapped as if remembering something. “If you’re still around next week.”
Behind you, you heard a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You know, you’re really good with quick thinking.” He handed you back your clipboard with a smile.
***
Nia Jax stood in the ring, waiting to pummel her local talent for the evening. The woman’s name was a blip in her memory and barely lasted five minutes past the bell. After the three count, she took her title from the ref and a mic.
“Here’s how things are going to go,” she started. “I am Raw women’s champion. Nobody has succeeded in changing that, and nobody is going to any time soon. I am the top of the women’s division. I proved that at Summer Slam against Rhonda Rousey; I can prove it time and time again. Tonight-“
The opening beats of Alexa Bliss’s music cut through the arena. “Now hang on just a second.” She planted her feet on the stage and smirked at Nia. “Sure. You proved it ‘this time.’ But acting like you’re going to hold onto it forever. Psh. Honey, you are not that good. You’ve got the power and the strength and the ring awareness, I’ll give you that. But you are not a goddess.”
“Is that so?” Nia sucked her teeth. “You know, I’d rather be me than a goddess who screams and runs at the first sign of real power.”
Alexa glowered at the ring and at the audience agreeing with the champion. “I know when to lose the battle so I can win the war. Unlike your opponent last night. Rhonda’s been here learning the ropes, but not the field. You haven’t had real competition in-“
Rhonda’s music played next. Alexa scurried down to ringside while Nia groaned. “You got something to say, little miss Bliss? Then you can say it to my face. You may be the goddess of WWE, but I’ve got skills unique to me. Ones that could easily pin you. I know I’m new. I get that every time I get pinned for some stupid mistake.” She shifted her focus to Nia. “Ones that I won’t be making again.”
Shaking her finger, Alexa said, “Nu-uh. You lost to Nia again. You’ve got to go to the back of the line now. And let others more skilled and tested than you get their chance.” She rolled into the ring as Rhonda walked down the ramp. She avoided bumping into Nia then realized she was outnumbered.
She was saved by the peppy intro for the Riott Squad. The trio circled the ring, then Ruby stepped up onto the apron. “You know. I think I agree with Rousey. It is easy to pin Alexa.” She laughed. “All you gotta do is corner her and leave her with no place to run. But to take out Rhonda? Hit her in the ring awareness. No one was going to hop the octagon fence and attack from behind, but here? You’ve always got to have someone watching your back.” She smiled wickedly as Liv Morgan reached out and tugged on Rhonda’s ponytail from behind. “As for Nia? Well. Like we learned from Alexa: hit her in the heart.” The three of them hopped through the ropes and froze as more music hit.
Bayley came out. And was promptly interrupted by Sasha Banks. The second woman had just passed the first on the stage when Alicia’s music played. Then Mickie’s. The two new women linked arms and bumped their way past the two former best friends.
“Enough!” Nia took her position back in the center of the ring. “If anybody had been listening, I was going to announce how any of you could earn a chance at this title.” She looked left and right to all the women who had joined her in the ring. “Next week, there is going to be a gauntlet match. I don’t care how you pick who the first two women will be, but the last woman standing will get a championship match at Hell in a Cell. We are the future, ladies. So let’s show the world what we are willing to give.”
She dropped the mic and left for the exit, carrying her belt high over her head.
***
You had to interview Kevin next. Apparently, some of his complainings had gotten through to Kurt because he wanted you to find out his plans for Hell in a Cell.
“Plans?” Kevin scoffed. “My plans are my own. And with management up in the air, I’m going to be making them myself. But enough about me.” He stole your mic and changed his stance as if announcing the weather. “We know a little about your history, but what about your thoughts on how Summer Slam went for you. How did you enjoy your first pay per view in-ring action?”
You sighed. “Well-“
“For someone as inexperienced as you, you did pretty well. But for someone who had all those legendary trainers and the like, you didn’t do as well as you could have.”
“At least I had a match at Summer Slam. Not bad, right?” You reached for your mic, but he held it past your reach.
“Honestly, I can’t blame you. Three of your teachers aren’t what they used to be. Rollins lost his spunk when he lost the Intercontinental to Elias. Roman has been running himself to death to please people who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And Dean…” Kevin barked a laugh. “Did Dean ever have his mind to begin with?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “Right. Like you’ve never destroyed the one good thing in your career by stabbing it in the back. Oh wait, I read Dana’s notes. You’ve done that several times, haven’t you?”
Kevin’s knuckles turned white around the mic handle. He bared his teeth and stepped to you, then a large hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Roman tightened his grip on Kevin’s shoulder. Dean swung around and plunked the mic from his hands to give it back to you. Seth took a position on Kevin’s other side.
“I’m good. Kevin was just telling me how much he liked our match yesterday.”
He ground his teeth. “No. I… your match a catastrophe. Chaos everywhere. And you,” he shoved a finger into your face, “you only got the pin with a lucky punch. If that had failed, these three wouldn’t have been able to help you. These shadows did nothing but suck you into trouble.”
Dean lowered Kevin’s hand out of your face. “And you’re talking yourself into trouble. Again.”
Kevin puffed, shrugging Roman’s grip off his shoulder. “Again? Not that the trouble was all that much before, right Ambrose? You’re to busy being happy about being back with your brothers that you can’t see the damage. None of you could give me enough trouble even to wind me. Not even the big dog himself.”
Oh, there was a thought.
“Hey, why not?” They all looked at you. “Mr. Owens, you were looking for a match tonight.” You smiled and motioned around. “Pick one. Mr. Angle signed that you could have a match. Said you could have someone in your corner too.”
Seth nodded. “Yeah. And the other two could be on commentary. Haven’t done that in a while,” he said to himself.
Kevin realized with a start that he was surrounded with no way to get out. His Adam apple bobbed. You watched bemused as the wheels in his head turned at full power. “Not that it matters,” he said. “Roman. Good a match as any.” He twisted and ducked to get away.
***
Down the hall, Kevin caught his breath. He stepped faster as he spotted some possible ring help. “You guys aren’t doing anything tonight, right?”
Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre were sitting on a crate discussing something on Dolph’s phone. Mojo was close by, lacing up his boots. He turned and walked the other way as Kevin approached. Dolph and Drew could not make as quick as an escape.
“Hold it right there.” Dolph stood. “We are not going out to the ring. Not with you.”
“Why not?”
Drew snickered. “Our plans are our own.” They laughed at Kevin’s desperate face and left to find a new scheming spot.
***
Seth and Dean had a lot of fun on commentary. Roman had fun in the ring. Kevin did not have fun. Even when he gained the upper hand for a minute or two, he was still working defense in an effort to catch up.
Kevin left the ring and took the loss by count-out. This was not the match he wanted. And he was not going to waste his energy on it any further.
The Shield was more than happy to mock him on his way out of the arena.
***
The mood of Braun Strowman was nothing like it had been on Sunday. The only thing more terrifying than a pacing monster was one who stood still and held an almost unblinking gaze.
“During Summer Slam, the earlier part of it, I was in control of my own fate.” Braun’s chest heaved with a steadying breath. “If I had failed to pin Brock Lesnar, it would have been because of my own lack of skill. But I didn’t. I won the Universal Championship with my own two hands. I held the title with these same hands and had the world at my feet. And then…” He growled and rolled his neck. “Then it was taken from me.” He turned to the stage. “Finn Balor, I want my rematch!”
The crow cheered, then cheered louder as Finn’s face showed up on the titantron.
He giggled. “I have to thank you, Braun. Because of how things went last night, I’m not the shortest reigning Universal Champion anymore. You are.” He stroked the title hanging over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you come down here so we can fix that?” Braun dropped his mic.
“Of course.” The screen flickered. Finn’s face was cast in red light and shadow before disappearing.
In the arena, red lights pulsed on the stage. The smoke rose and the music started. Balor emerged. Dreds and ribbons and blood-red hands crawled their way down to the ring with the Universal title around the waist of the demon king.
Braun backed into the lower corner. This wasn’t going to scare him. He’d once been a Wyatt.
It should have though.
Balor was unlike anything Braun had ever fought before. Where Finn was predictable due to his tried and tested methods, Balor was just as unpredictable. He moved differently. Hit differently. Spotted and took advantage of weaknesses differently. Braun did the best he could. But he hit a wall. Sunday’s match took its pound of flesh and left the mangled remains to Balor to play with. The Monster knew he was in trouble when the demon didn’t want to play; he wanted to retain his crown. Every aching muscle, every strained limb was a target.
One. Two. Three.
Balor crawled back to the stage with his prize. He stood and held it high. Reigning and defended.
Warnings/Promises: name-calling (slut and the like), SMUT, spanking, hair pulling, begging, orgasm control
Word Count: 1540
Note: I hope this what you wanted, anon. It took me a minute to get the writing ball rolling, but then it tumbled down a mountain and this was at the bottom. Super smutty. My requests are still open, and all my tag lists. Have fun reading!
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you sneakin’ out?” AJ slammed the door behind him and threw the keys into the bowl, uncaring when they flew out from the force. “I couldn’t find you after the show and thought the worst.”
You dropped your purse on a surface. “It was just drinks with the ladies. It had been a while.”
“Y’all went out last week. And you were just with them.”
“Yeah, at work! When football season hits we’ll have all your friends here on Friday and Sunday nights for months. People that you also see on Tuesdays. How is this any different?”
“Fine. But could you at least not dress like that?”
“Like what?” You twirled in your favorite little black dress, the backless one with red tulle underneath. “These are clothes approved by you.”
“Yeah, for me only. You know I don’t like it when other guys can look at you and… daydream. You’re my daydream.”
“You’re right. I do know.”
“So, you’re goin’ to stop sneakin’ out?”
“No. It means I’m going to do more not to get caught.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.
“Y/N stop acting like a child.”
“Me?” You crossed your arms with a huff. “You’re the one using the same argument we had all through high school. And Japan. You knew how much time I want to spend with my friends when you married me. AJ, honey, I love you. But you are such an asshole sometimes.”
“I can’t help it if you dress like a slut all the time.”
You raised your hand to slap him, but he caught your wrist. The pictures on the wall behind you rattled as he slammed you into it, his other hand forceful on your stomach. His eyes were bright and his breath was hot on your neck. You shivered as he leaned close, pressing his body to yours.
“You want to try that again, sweetheart?”
AJ let go of your wrist and took a step back. You gave him a weak shove and tried to walk away, but his arms caught around your waist. When you attempted to elbow his ribs, he adjusted to pin down your arms. He walked you forward to the couch and tilted you over the armrest. With one hand, he restricted you from fighting back. In your struggle, your skirt flew up over your ass. AJ gasped when he saw your red lacy underwear. He made them snap against your skin.
“And I thought we agreed these were never to leave the house, hmm?” The playful growl in his voice made you squeeze your thighs together. He kicked your stance back open, ignoring how difficult it was to stand in heels. “Y/N.”
Your mouth suddenly dry, you tried one more time to wriggle out of his grasp. He pressed close behind you, thrusting his crotch into your backside. It made you shiver to feel how hard he was. “AJ,” you moaned. You yelped as he slapped your ass. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes. You are going to be.” He gripped at the globes of your ass. “Hmm, do I want you to count tonight. Or do I want you to beg?” You waited on baited breath for him to answer his own question. You jumped as he ran his fingernails over your exposed skin. “Begging. Nice and loud sweetheart.” He gave you a test slap, one that wouldn’t even redden your skin.
“More,” you whimpered. He slapped you again, harder. “Yes, please, more.” There were two quick slaps, one to each side. Your knees almost buckled. But then, that was probably why he had leaned you over the armrest. “Just like that.”
AJ slid your lace off your hips and let you step out of it. Then he continued. It was only another two rounds or so, but your voice was already hoarse and your skin was on fire. You wobbled on your heels until AJ had you take those off, which made you more reliant on his grip on your wrists for balance. AJ spread your cheeks for a peek. “Well, well,” he chuckled. He teased two fingers towards your heat. “What do we have here? Does my little slut like being punished? Maybe we should do it all night.”
“No. AJ. Need you. Please.”
“Now you need me. Maybe I don’t need you.” He thrust his length into your sensitive sex again. “Maybe I’ll take care of this myself.”
You fell forward, shaking your head. You didn’t like that idea at all. A hand twisted into your hair and tugged your face back up.
“Is that what you want? I could always repeat what we did that one time. Tied you to the chair and made you watch while I jerked myself off. My personal whore didn’t get anything, didn’t deserve or earn a single drop.” He turned you around to sit on the edge. “Tell me. What do you think I should do?”
Desperately, you wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t do that again. Not tonight. Touch me. Love me. Use me. Please.”
He silenced you with a kiss that made your teeth clack together. He bruised your lips, nipped at them, and dominated your mouth with his tongue. All the while he directed you to walk towards your room. When the bed finally bumped into the back of your legs, he stepped back, breathless just as much as you.
“If that dress isn’t gone in two seconds I’m going to rip it off.”
You slid it off as quickly as you could, then moved to sink to your knees. AJ caught you and pushed you onto the bed. He stripped and crawled over you. His thighs pinned your arms to your sides while his length bobbed in front of your face. You yelped as he roughly kneaded your breasts. He pinched your nipples into throbbing peaks. He noticed your gaze following his cock.
“You want it? Want to be my cock slut?”
“Yes, AJ,“ you dutifully opened your mouth.
He teased the head around your lips before shoving it past them. Using hollowing and sucking, you worked quickly. You ravished in the weight of his weight on your tongue. It was probably going to cost you, but you hesitantly used teeth in the way you knew would make him… yes. Would make him moan and growl just like that. His breathing was starting to come out in bursts. Given another minute or two, he would cum. You whined as he pulled away and crawled down your body.
“Oh, no. Not going to give it to you that easily.” He took a deep breath. “Open your legs, Y/N.”
You complied.
With a nod, he smiled. “There it is. The best way to make sure you pay attention. That gorgeous dripping pussy.” He reached forward and curled two fingers into your heat, rapidly pumping them. He snickered as you mewled. “So easy to play you. Make you sing and whimper and make every sound under the sky. And only I can make you do this.”
You cried out as the rush of pleasure was about to overtake you. AJ pulled away and slapped your lips. He positioned himself between your legs and pulled one of your knees over his shoulder. He sheathed in one go, pushing all the air out of your body. His body shivered as your walls rushed to adjust. Taking another second, he pulled almost completely out and slammed back in. You screamed. It broke apart each time he repeated the action.
AJ growled. “You’re mine. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours. Oh,” you panted, “I’m only yours.”
“Tell me, who do you belong to?”
“You. You, AJ.”
“Damn right you do.”
He reached forward and dipped his thumb in your leaking juices. He spread them harshly on your clit. He chuckled as your eyes crossed before squinting shut. The snapping of your hips rattled your whole body. Your thighs began to quiver, waiting for him to tell you could let go.
“If you want to cum, Y/N, you better do it soon. ‘Cause when I cum, I’m done. So get there.”
That was all the invitation you needed. You met him thrust for thrust and toyed with your breasts. Your body went rigid as you came, whiting out your vision. AJ fucked you through it. His eventual release made your walls clamp down again, milking his cock. He fell forward and steadied himself on his forearms. You laid boneless under him.
A minute later he had a cup of cool water at your lips and didn’t leave until it was empty. He cleaned you up and pulled the covers over you both as he slid in next to you. You curled towards his chest, humming as he stroked your hair. His chest heaved like it did when he was trying to say something.
“We can talk about this more in the morning, but… in the future… just, talk to me. Tell me when you’re going out. Please, don’t scare me like that.” He hugged you close, gripping you like you would turn to dust if he let go.
OMG! Thank you so much! I love those fics too. I’m sure you’ll happy to consider it, but there are some ideas bouncing around in the back of my head for a part 2 for the marriage one. And that line I had no idea so many of you were going to like it. That’s what you get, I guess, for writing sleep deprived. That my fics helped you back into the fandom is the highest praise I could possibly get. Thank you thank you thank you!
OMG!!! Okay if u ever make a part 2 please please please tag me🙏🙏 Also once again i love u and your writing. Happy Anniversary again.
Awe! I’m glad I could help you get started. I’ve only been watching wrestling a little over a year myself. So I totally get that quick but deep drop into WWE! Thank you for sending in an anon! 😚❤
In the last Raw before Summer Slam, you are included in the main event. Final opponents are determined for the other matches but you feel out of place. Will you let Dean and everybody down or work past your fears?
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, self-doubt
Word Count: 2700
Note: Heads up, I’m going to be moving back to college next week. (I know, just in time for Summer Slam! Yippee.) So it will be interesting to see how maintaining this series goes once my class schedule kicks in. Hopefully, I will be successful. Another heads up: Summer Slam’s chapter is going to be awesome and action-packed. *squee* Tag lists and requests open. Happy reading!
Monday Night Raw – August 13, 2018 – Greensboro, NC
If you were a begging type of woman, Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre would not have started the show. Your nerves were on fire as you saw them walk into Gorilla, cringing when you heard Dolph’s music. In the ring, he pranced around as if the audience’s reaction to him was unanimous praise.
“Well hello to you to.” He grinned wide, ignoring the waves of hate rolling towards him. “We’re out here to announce that there’s a special match tonight. Drew, if you would.”
“You’re havin’ a Lumberjack match tanight,” Drew rumbled.
“That I am. Against Dean Ambrose. And there to catch him when I toss him out is going to be you, Mojo, and Mickie James. And of course Roman, Seth, and Y/N backing up Dean. But they won’t be able to much. Now, if Y/N could step out here please.”
You were more than happy to. If he wanted to have a battle of wits, he was going to realize quickly how unarmed he was. Seth followed you out, to rushed to zip up his gear shirt. “What do you want Ziggler?”
He laughed. “No need to be so formal, sweetheart. Dolph is just fine.”
“Get to the point. Ziggler.”
Biting back a scowl he cleared his throat. “I wanted to let you know it’s okay. At some point, your cousin is going to knock me out of the ring. You’re frustrated and angry. I won’t hold it against you if you hit me.”
As if reading from a hokey script, Drew asked “but I thought you liked Y/N. Why all this?”
Dolph turned to him and talked with his hands as if to a child. “You see, the key to winning a girl’s heart is playing hard to get.”
You scoffed. “That would be difficult for you then since you’re hard to want.” This was getting old. The match could start right now for all you cared.
Seth read your mind. He crossed his arm across your shoulders, keeping you from storming down the ramp. Dolph noticed. “Gettin’ a little close there, Rollins. Y/N, you could do so much better. He’s no Dolph Ziggler.”
You looked down at Seth’s abs, then back at the ring. “Good. It means he’s not freakin’ orange.” Seth coughed and turned to face behind you. He cackled quietly. “And I hope you’re ready for some serious bruising. This is going to end tonight.” You turned on your heel.
“Whatever you say, Y/N. But all tonight is going to prove is that I am the best man in the business. And nothing the Shield can do is going to disprove that.”
The women’s music sounding told Dolph his time was up. They each took turns bumping shoulders against them as they left the arena. Rhonda nearly knocked Dolph off his feet, making him growl and make a hastier exit. Alexa Bliss and Alicia Fox stood on one side of the ring while Natalya and Rhonda stood on the other. They may have won their opportunity as a team, but tonight eventually it was going to be every woman for herself.
Renee Young explained how the match was going to work. “The match is going to start as a tag match. To eliminate a team, one member has to be knocked to the floor over the top rope. Then from the remaining two women, a singles match will begin immediately.”
Corey snorted. “I can’t say I agree with this method.”
“I’m looking forward to see how it goes,” Renee pipped up. Nothing Corey was going to say was going to dampen her Raw commentary debut.
Alexa rolled out, leaving Alicia at the other’s two women’s mercy. Which they gave. Sharing a look, each of the three rolled a different way out of the ring, circling Alexa. While she was focused on not getting caught by Natalya or Rhonda, she bumped into Alicia. They shared sticky sweet smiles, then Alicia tossed her partner into the ring at the sound of the bell.
Natalya fought her first. She made frequent tags to Rhonda, ensuring they would both have enough energy for part two of the fight. If they made it that far. Alexa escaped and put that plan in jeopardy as Alicia rushed in, quickly weakening Natalya and trapping her in the ring. Rhonda rushed around to the side as Alicia tried to tip her partner over.
She was successful but crashed to the floor herself when Alexa knocked her feet out from under her. They continued to fight on the outside. Inside the ring, Alicia was gaining the upper hand. Once again, Natalya had no one to tag and had to muscle through and do her best. Exhausted, she fell against the ropes. Alicia scooped up under her, attempting for a pin.
“Oh yeah.” Alicia grabbed Natalya’s hair and slung her towards the ropes. Rhonda was there to make sure she didn’t sail over. She guided Natalya to the corner and tagged in, rushing towards Alicia. Foxy turned and reached for Alexa, who wasn’t there. Alexa hopped down, hoping Rhonda would tire out her partner. It backfired as Rhonda swung Alicia over her back and threw her over the top rope. Alicia fell on top of Alexa and they were announced to be eliminated.
Rhonda waited for Natalya to catch her breath. It wasn’t ideal. In a perfect world, they would both have more energy and could put on a better match. Natalya stood tall. This would have to do. For how much they had trained together, Rhonda picked up on her tells. Mixed with Natalya’s lack of momentum, she didn’t last much longer.
Even then, Rhonda hesitated to pin her friend. “I’m sorry,” she said as the ref counted to three. She helped Natalya to her feet.
“It’s okay, for now,” Natalya joked. “But you better kick ass on Sunday.” She helped the ref raise her hand in victory.
Kurt Angle held his phone far away from his ear with a wince. “Braun. Braun! I know, but it was best that you stayed away from the show tonight.” He paused and tromboned the phone as Braun reacted. “Because there are a lot of people who don’t want you to beat Brock on Sunday, and that’s not just him an Paul Heyman. I didn’t want you risking your Summer Slam match.” Gritting his teeth, he talked over his employee. “Look, you can yell at me Sunday night. After your match. If nothing goes awry. Okay? Good. See you Sunday.” He hung up with a sigh then saw you. “Hey, Y/N. Please come in.”
This couldn’t be good. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Angle?”
“Just Kurt. And yeah. I need your opinion on something.” He waited for you to step further into the room. “If I’m wrong I do have a back-up, so please be honest with your answer.”
You gulped. “Okay.”
“Y/N, do you think tonight’s match is going to end the problems with Dolph?”
“Honestly,” you said slowly, “no. From what I’ve learned about him, Dolph is going to keep going until the injuries to his body outweigh any gain he’s been scrambling for. Even if Dean gets him to that point, Mojo and Mickie are involved now too. They’ve got their own issues with us now.”
Kurt thought for a second. “There’s one more slot for Summer Slam.”
How? “Isn’t it a little late to be making matches? Summer Slam is on Sunday.”
He nodded. “I know. But I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be over before then. So, you and the Shield will have a match on Sunday against Dolph and Drew, and Mojo and Micke James.”
You sighed. “This is all my fault. I didn’t mean to be such a bother.”
“Hey,” Kurt gave your shoulder a light pat. “It’s how we settle things around here. If anything, you fit right in. You are not a ‘bother’ and we are lucky to have you on the team. You’ve just started and you’re putting more effort into your contract than some old timers.”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have the experience.” You groaned. “I’m not Dean. No matter how much effort I put into the match tonight or Sunday, I am going to burn out quickly.”
“Don’t worry about tonight or Sunday. You’ve got this.” His phone rang again. He walked away to answer it, despite your attempt to grab his attention. With a worried huff, your left his office.
“Are you ready for the match?” Seth’s voice behind you made you cringe. “I’ll take that as a no.” He jutted his chin in the direction that Kurt went. “So, I heard the tail-end of that. You get to be part of a Summer Slam match too, huh?”
“This is a disaster.” You slumped to sit on a crate. “I came here to be a reporter. And to reconnect with Dean, in a way. Everything has gone wrong. This is way more than what I can handle.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve seen you train. I’ve been beaten by you in training. Which, not to toot my own horn, is saying something,” he chuckled. When you didn’t cheer up he sighed and tilted your head up. He gave you a small smile. “Y/N?”
“I don’t want to let him down. Or any of you.”
“You won’t. I trust you.”
It was a tiny statement. But it meant the world. You couldn’t find the words to thank him but nodded. Seth grabbed your wrists and gave them the once over.
“Let’s get you some tape.”
Corey was grumbling even before Elias could strum his first chord. His stool was set up a few feet from the announce table on the stage. He sang an upbeat ditty about hating the town and his disdain for the opponents squabbling for his title, then left the spotlight.
“Front row seats to an Elias concert. Man, you guys really do get the good stuff,” Renee cooed. She elbowed Corey before he could retort.
Elias dipped his head. “I’m glad to see at least one person has accepted the enlightenment my music brings.” He glared at Corey and made small talk with Cole as Baron Corbin and Bobby Roode made their way down to the ring. He was unbothered by the idea of this match. If anything, he was excited to see who was going to face him at Summer Slam. It was the perfect opportunity to scope out his adversary.
Corbin and Roode circled each other looking for a way in. Eventually, they had to meet in a contest of strength. Corbin used his height to his advantage and caught Roode in a headlock. Neither wrestler was one known for their gravity-defying stunts, but Corbin was going to do everything he could to keep Roode from using his strength. It worked. For a while.
Using the crowd’s enthusiasm, Roode was able to make it to his feet. He bounced off the ropes and sent Corbin’s back crashing to the canvas. He didn’t fall for Corbin’s tricks. If Baron swung around a ring post, he was waiting for him. The Deep Six was hard to kick out of, but he did. Roode danced his way across the ring. If things continued his way, he was going to Summer Slam with a chance at the Intercontinental Championship. Roode kicked Corbin in the stomach and stepped back to power up for the Glorious DDT.
He took to long. Corbin reversed Roode’s movements into another Deep Six. When Roode stumbled up from that, he walked into an End of Days. His music was cut short by Elias playing his guitar.
Elias gave him a slight bow, then strummed his way out of the arena.
They were waiting for you in the ring. Roman and Seth went out first. Then Dean. He stayed close to the curtains, having promised you a surprise. You were still trying to work up the courage to go out there when a second guitar riff sounded. It was underlined with an electric guitar and strong drums.
“Surprise,” he smiled.
You had your own entrance music.
It was bold and had a great beat. Dean wiggled along with it on the way to the ring; you poorly stifled a giggle.
Dolph was left standing alone as his accompanying trio left the ring. Dean rolled and you took your spot on the ramp-side of the ring. After the bell rang, you bounced up and down like you usually did when watching matches from backstage. Being out in the arena? It was electric. Now you knew why Dean bounced and jumped through his matches. Mickie was glaring at you from the other side of the ring but that didn’t bother you. You had ringside access to one of Dean’s matches. This was wild.
Dean got tossed out first. Thankfully, Dolph’s aim was off and he sailed right into the arms of Roman. He received hair ruffling and loud pats on the back and then they sent him back in. His arms flailed, striking Dolph about every other rotation. You laughed as Drew and Mojo watched Dolph take the beating with uncomfortable grimaces. By keeping an eye on them, you saw the plan they formulated before Mickie could distract the ref. She jumped up onto the apron, pulling Dean’s attention away from Dolph. They tried to grab at his ankles, but even their long arms couldn’t reach him and a crisis was averted.
When Dean tossed Dolph over a rope, he made sure Roman was there to catch him too. You made sure there wasn’t inference from the left and Seth did the same for the right. You could tell the men weren’t scared of you. There was another plan in place. One that was for later as Dolph staggered his way back to his feet. The match went on, with Dean maintaining the upper hand. Drew and Mojo traded sides with Mickie.
You were distracted by Drew inching his way to Seth’s side when Dolph came flying over the ropes. He landed on you, smirking when he realized what his position was. With a growl, you flipped him to his back and started to punch at his face as hard and fast as you could. You were yanked to your feet by your hair. Mickie slammed your face into the apron. You fell back, dazed. Roman picked you up around your stomach, shouting at everyone to back off.
“Ow,” you mumbled, holding your head while Dolph slid back into the ring.
“Better get used to that, sweetie,” Mickie said, backing away.
There were several other altercations. Mojo did surprisingly well against Roman, while Seth used the barricades or apron to gain some height on Drew. Dolph continuously underestimated you and received similar treatment as to the first incident. No matter what you did, Mickie could always make you crumple like a ball of tinfoil. She could do the same to Dean, too. It took the three of you a few minutes to realize how much damage she was dishing out, then another few to break away from them to come to his aid.
Then there was the chair.
Mojo tossed it in while the ref’s back was turned. Dean was leaning against the ropes. He moved out of the way at the last second. Dolph’s swing bounced back at him off the top rope, sending the chair into his forehead and his body to the mat. The ref saw the whole thing and wouldn’t motion for a disqualification since it was self-inflicted. Dolph cursed and threw the chair away. It cut into Dean’s stomach, folding him in half.
You slid into the ring as the ref called for the disqualification. Dean waved off your worried looks and questions while the other team left. He coughed hard, holding his stomach.
“This isn’t over,” you hissed. “Far from it. They wanted the fight. They’ve got one.”
“That’s my baby cuz.” Dean grinned as you stuck your tongue out at him.
Our Deepest Desires 