Prompt: “I was wondering if you could write something kinda loosely based off a Matchbox 20 song called Push. If you need lyrics or anything, or a different guy to work with, I can come off anon. But can you write it for a reader with not so good self-confidence who is maybe dating a guy (hmm, let’s say Ziggler) who is taking her for granted? Enter Jack Swagger (if you write for him), who has a silent thing for her and finally, can’t take hiding it and he decides to show her? I need this like air please?”
Pairing: Jack Swagger x Reader, beginning Dolph x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: mentions of alcohol, break-up, continuous checking in, SMUT, oral (female receiving)
Word Count: 2340
Note: Forgive any inaccuracies in his characterization; I had a crash-course in Jack Swagger to write this. Again, I am sorry to any Dolph fans; he is again the perfect asshole. My requests are still open, and the WWE Answered Request Week is in process. All my tag lists are open. Enjoy!
Jack Swagger POV
She was curled up on a crate again. Arms wrapped around her legs and head on her knees. I sat next to her with a sigh. “What’d he do this time?”
“Nothing,” she said with a sniffle. Y/N must have been there a while because her face was already dry and the puffiness was receding. “I guess that’s the problem. It’s so much… nothing.” She leaned into me as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t mind him going out with his friends all the time, but is one dinner a week too much to ask? Is it?” She looked up at me. I shook my head. “He’s a good man,” she whispered, like she was trying to convince herself. “Driven. Willing to do anything for his goals.”
But not willing to fight for you.
I was about to say it out loud when the man himself sauntered up.
“You tryin’ to cop a feel of my girl, Swagger?” he joked. None of us laughed.
“No.” I stood. “It was just a chat. Though if you keep leaving your girl out in the cold, someone is bound to whisk her away. Like Rollins or Cesaro,” I added hastily. “Did you want to grab dinner, Y/N?”
Dolph stepped forward and took her hand. “Back off. Where would you like to go, Y/N?”
I sent her a wink as they started to make plans. It twisted like a knife that a wonderful woman like Y/N needed a third-party intervention to get time with her boyfriend. Her clueless boyfriend. That wasn’t right. She laughed at something he said. She wasn’t mine. Y/N was never going to be mine.
***
Reader POV
You were in the ring together. Dolph was staring down Tyler Breeze and you were doing the same to Summer Rae. As the match started, you realized too late that you were hardly going to get any ring time. Even though Breeze kept tagging in Summer, Dolph would turn around and tag you out. You evaded him once, having about five minutes with Summer before getting thrown into your corner. Dolph won the match. You almost didn’t rush to help him when Summer retaliated.
Backstage, you confronted him. “Why would you do that?”
Prompt: “I was wondering if you could write something kinda loosely based off a Matchbox 20 song called Push. If you need lyrics or anything, or a different guy to work with, I can come off anon. But can you write it for a reader with not so good self-confidence who is maybe dating a guy (hmm, let’s say Ziggler) who is taking her for granted? Enter Jack Swagger (if you write for him), who has a silent thing for her and finally, can’t take hiding it and he decides to show her? I need this like air please?”
Pairing: Jack Swagger x Reader, beginning Dolph x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: mentions of alcohol, break-up, continuous checking in, SMUT, oral (female receiving)
Word Count: 2340
Note: Forgive any inaccuracies in his characterization; I had a crash-course in Jack Swagger to write this. Again, I am sorry to any Dolph fans; he is again the perfect asshole. My requests are still open, and the WWE Answered Request Week is in process. All my tag lists are open. Enjoy!
Jack Swagger POV
She was curled up on a crate again. Arms wrapped around her legs and head on her knees. I sat next to her with a sigh. “What’d he do this time?”
“Nothing,” she said with a sniffle. Y/N must have been there a while because her face was already dry and the puffiness was receding. “I guess that’s the problem. It’s so much… nothing.” She leaned into me as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t mind him going out with his friends all the time, but is one dinner a week too much to ask? Is it?” She looked up at me. I shook my head. “He’s a good man,” she whispered, like she was trying to convince herself. “Driven. Willing to do anything for his goals.”
But not willing to fight for you.
I was about to say it out loud when the man himself sauntered up.
“You tryin’ to cop a feel of my girl, Swagger?” he joked. None of us laughed.
“No.” I stood. “It was just a chat. Though if you keep leaving your girl out in the cold, someone is bound to whisk her away. Like Rollins or Cesaro,” I added hastily. “Did you want to grab dinner, Y/N?”
Dolph stepped forward and took her hand. “Back off. Where would you like to go, Y/N?”
I sent her a wink as they started to make plans. It twisted like a knife that a wonderful woman like Y/N needed a third-party intervention to get time with her boyfriend. Her clueless boyfriend. That wasn’t right. She laughed at something he said. She wasn’t mine. Y/N was never going to be mine.
***
Reader POV
You were in the ring together. Dolph was staring down Tyler Breeze and you were doing the same to Summer Rae. As the match started, you realized too late that you were hardly going to get any ring time. Even though Breeze kept tagging in Summer, Dolph would turn around and tag you out. You evaded him once, having about five minutes with Summer before getting thrown into your corner. Dolph won the match. You almost didn’t rush to help him when Summer retaliated.
Backstage, you confronted him. “Why would you do that?”
“Do what?” He checked his phone and texted someone back.
“It’s the first time I’ve gotten to tag with you and you wouldn’t let me into the ring. I could have held up my half of the match. You said we had equal skills.”
He hummed and pulled you into his chest. “I’m sorry. I thought I was saving showing off your skills for a special occasion.”
“What’s a better occasion than getting to fight with you?”
“I didn’t realize this meant so much to you. It felt normal to me, you having my back. From the floor or in the ring.” He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll see if I can’t talk them into a rematch. One we’ll win together that will give you all the time to show off.” He was slowly swaying with you when some of his drinking buddies showed up. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he told them.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Where are you going? I thought you were taking me to dinner?”
“We ate in catering.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Sorry, baby. I already told them I was going out.”
“Tell them you have to cancel. Please.”
One of the guys waved. “It’s okay, Dolph. We can catch you another day.”
“No. Hang on.” He turned and gripped your shoulders. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve had me all afternoon. We had a great match. We won-“
“You won,” you spat, pushing him away. He growled a warning. “I’ll push you around if I like. That’s what you’ve been doing to me since we started seeing each other. Pushing me aside. Pushing me away. Pushing my career down below yours so you could get the glory.” You batted his hands away as he reached for you. “No. I’ve tried to give you what you need. But have you thought, even for one second, about me?”
“Come on, Y/N. Be reasonable.”
“I’m not going to do anything you say. At all.” You grit your teeth as your cheeks heated up. Before walking away you added, “and don’t bother with that rematch. We’re done.”
Dolph sputtered and cursed. “Fine,” he shouted at you. “You were a drag anyway. I’m going to get everything I’ve ever wanted without you pulling me down.”
You disappeared around a corner before he could see your tears.
***
Swagger POV
I was already at the hotel when I got the call.
“Jack.” Her voice shattered, breaking me.
“Where are you?”
“In the hotel.”
Y/N told me the room number and I rushed up, not even bothering to put on shoes. She was waiting at the door for me. I was going to kill Dolph for making her look like this. The door clicked shut behind me as I stepped in and hugged her close. Her arms tightened around my waist as her body shuddered.
“What have I done?” She let me guide her to the bed. Her phone lit up with a message. She unlocked it so I could read them. “His spelling is getting worse. He’s getting so drunk.”
The messages were getting worse, though they were terrible to begin with. My brow creased. All those hateful things he had sent her. All the names. Just because she broke up with him. She broke up with him? My mind raced. No. She needed comfort. Not my emotional baggage about her.
“He’s with friends. They’ll make sure he gets home safe.” I tossed the phone into her suitcase so she couldn’t hear it buzz or see the notification light. “Was he going to room with you?” If he was, we needed to leave. She shook her head. “Okay. You’re going to be okay.”
My world stopped when she leaned up to kiss me.
***
Reader POV
Fear twisted in your stomach. He looked so shocked. Had you overstepped? Misread something? He’d come so quick; he wouldn’t do that without some measure of something. Right?
“Y/N-“
“I’m sorry.” You scooted away from him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… you’ve always rescued… such a bother… I’m sorry.” At the far end of the bed, you hugged yourself and tried to become as small as you felt. His hand tilting up your face made your body tense. So you shut your eyes.
Jack puffed with amusement. “I liked that.” When your eyes snapped open, he had a small smile. “You’ve never been a bother. I’ve never wanted to step up because there were times you were genuinely happy with him. If you were happy, I couldn’t get in the way of that. And when you weren’t…” he ducked his head, “I kept my distance.”
You took a deep breath and guided his hand to cup your face. “You don’t have to keep your distance anymore.”
“You’re hurt. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Then just hold me.” He opened his arms so you could curl into his chest. “Hold me until I forget about him.” You held on as he moved further back on the bed so you could sit in his lap. The even rise and fall of his chest synched with your slowing heartbeat. With a contended hum your eyes closed as he rubbed your back.
***
I finally had her in my arms. With the possibility of her becoming mine. Mine to love and to cherish. To defend. To hold, just like this. I took a deep breath, relishing the moment.
It was impossible to stifle the moan when her hand curled around a portion of my shirt. She giggled against my chest. “You okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“You sure?”
I will never know if it was a mistake or the best decision of my life to take a peek of her face. Her eyes were focused on mine. She was pressed into me as close as she could with our clothes still on. Then her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. I swallowed and nodded. Y/N leaned into my touch as I ran my thumb over her cheek. My jaw clenched as she ran her finger up my chest. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
“Protection, me or you?”
“Pill.”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “Last chance. Are you absolutely-“ She swallowed my question with her lips. Her sweet lips. Smugly I thought about Dolph at whatever bar. With friends but alone. Missing out on the best part of his life that had just slipped through his fingers. I kissed her back, doing my best to show her how much she was going to be loved from now on. She whimpered into my lips as my hands began to roam her body. Everything fit perfectly into my grasp.
“Jack-“ she moaned.
“I’ve got you, Y/N. I’ve got you.”
With a nudge, I laid her back onto the bed. Under her clothes she was even more stunning than I could imagine. Her hand reaching to find me brought me out of my shock. I kissed as much of it as I could. From the part of her neck that made her gasp, to the tips of her breasts that made her restless, down her stomach, to the juncture of her thighs and everything in between.
“Beautiful,” I murmured into her skin. “Perfectly wonderful.”
Her thighs tensed on either side of my head as I nosed across them. She smelled wonderful. Like it was going to be the best meal of my day. I hummed in delight after one taste test. Definitely the best meal of my day. Her hands curled in my hair, guiding me forward where she needed. When her whines were high and needy, I curled my fingers into her channel. Curling them, I watched her writhe. I found the spot that made her cry out, toying with it until she didn’t have anything left to scream. Her eyes could barely stay open, and I was nowhere near done. Keeping my fingers still, I once again explored her body with my lips. Each time her walls clamped down on me, I learned a new place to revisit.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, darlin’.”
She quivered with a softer release as I visited each place while pumping my fingers. When I crawled up her body, her cheeks were wet. “No, no. Talk to me. What am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing.” She cupped my face with a smile. “Absolutely nothing. You’re taking so much time.”
“Of course. I’m not going to rush a second of this.” She moaned into my kiss. “Don’t rush this, baby. We’ve got all night. Every night. For as long as you’ll have me.”
***
All night. He was going to love you all night. Every night. It was such a strong promise you almost doubted it could be true. But then he was there. Dropping his clothes. Locking himself between your legs and easing into you with such a slow stretch that you were pleading by the time he was fully sheathed. You couldn’t hear what he was mumbling to himself under his breath, but he sounded distressed in the best of ways.
“Jack, move. Please. Move.”
He pulled out and hesitated. You gave a short cry as he thrust hard and deep. Slow and steady. You floundered to hold onto the sheets onto him onto anything. When you caught hold of his hip he rolled you up so your grip was better. And so his head could rest on your shoulder.
The angle shift reached even further depths. Then his mouth was at your pulse point, sucking gently. Yet focused enough to take your breath away. Your mind couldn’t process how that was possible. It had too much to focus on with the way your body shook with his movements, how your nails raking down his back made him growl, and how your toes were about to cramp.
“I’m right there, Jack. Don’t stop. Please.”
“Cum, Y/N.”
You gave a hoarse shout as he quickened his pace just enough to send you over. His mangled grunt was followed by him nearly falling on top of you. You shuddered as he pulled out. He fell to the side of you and reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your knuckles.
“Are you okay?”
All you could do was hum affirmatively.
After a few minutes you felt him leave the bed, and then the warm towel he used to clean you up. The slow, soft kiss he gave you was the last thing you felt before falling asleep.
***
She saw him before I did. But once I had Dolph in my sights, I stepped in front of her and readied my fist.
“Well, that didn’t take long. Were you cheating on me, you b-“
I didn’t let him finish. He scrambled up from the floor ready to fight but thought better of it. “If you want to do this, we can ask for a match. Is that what you want?” I cocked my head with a smirk.
Dolph tried to look at Y/N, but she was hidden behind me. “No. Have fun with her. If you can.”
Y/N had to step in front of me before I could go after him again. “I will. And I’m going to treat her right. The way you never could.” She stayed there until he was gone, trailing her fingers up and down my chest. I barely heard her.
“Do you really mean that?”
I took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Yes. You will never be hurt like that again.” She stunned me with a quick peck on my cheek, but I didn’t let her go. “Hey, hey.” I pulled her close again for something longer. “Don’t rush it, baby. Don’t rush it.”
The future match for the Raw Women’s Title is complicated by an attack backstage. Going into Hell in a Cell, the reader’s duties take a sudden jump.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence
Word Count: 2800
Note: The storylines actually happening on Raw with Kurt Angle are getting eerily close to what I have planned. I hope you guys get to read it before they move ahead with theirs. If there’s a silver lining to this, it means I’m thinking like creative enough that we’re stepping on each other’s toes. Please let me know any thoughts, suggestions, questions you might have about the series. The tag list is still open for this series. Enjoy!
Monday Night Raw – September 3, 2018 – Columbus, OH
“Burn it down!”
Seth made his way to the ring. Chad Gable came out soon after, and they started their match for the chance at the Intercontinental Title. A showdown of strength became a show-off of who had the best series of suplexes. While Chad’s were harder to get up from, Seth’s had the crowd’s vote. They eventually ended up in opposite corners to catch their breath.
The match was interrupted by strumming. “Ladies and gentlemen: Elias.”
He was given the spotlight on the stage but didn’t seem too put off. “I believe I missed my introduction.” He smirked and played a chord. “Now while the two amateurs do their thing, the rest of you can listen to what you actually came here to see. Me. After all, WWE stands for?” He nodded his head at their response. “You all came to see me. Hear my music. My gift to share with this… well, this moonscape of a town that’s not really worth my time.”
In the ring, Seth and Chad shrugged at each other. They stumbled as he started to play, but continued their fight anyway. They had an unspoken agreement not to attack if the other needed to react to what Elias was saying. He mocked Seth’s obsession with CrossFit and his former injury. With Chad, he repeatedly compared him to a high school wrestler and asked him where his partners were. The last point got to him the most. He was about to step out of the ring when Seth pulled him back in.
“Let’s finish the match. If you beat me he’s almost yours anyway. Keep your head in the right-“
Chad cut him off with a series of emotional punches. Seth didn’t take kindly to that. He retaliated harshly with what he had been holding back as part of not letting Elias’s song get to him. Seth growled as Elias changed the tune to something akin to a video game boss battle.
He wanted his title back. And if he had his way, that guitar-playing hipster annoyance was never going to get his grubby musical fingers on it again.
Chad ate a curb stomp and a pin.
Elias swung his guitar over his shoulder and walked down to the ring. He gave Seth a wide berth as the techies set up his usual seating arrangement.
***
You were running over your itinerary when Kurt Angle walked up. “Y/N, can I ask a favor?”
This wasn’t going to be big, so you kept making notes. “You can ask, and I’ll do my best to fulfill. What can I do for you?”
“I need to go away on business next week and I need someone to run the show. You, preferably.”
Ah, what now? Your hands fluttered around your face from covering it to supporting it like Sherlock Holmes. “Me? What about Steph-“
Kurt nodded, “Also part of the business trip.”
“What about Dean? He’s hosted… oh yeah. He’s got a match tonight, with a possibility of already being in one next week.” No other names readily came to mind. You sighed, “I don’t know…”
“It’s just one week. Most of the matches have already been set. You’d only have to come up with one or two matches, and knowing this crew they might solve that problem for you.” He shook his head as you worried your nails into your palm. “I’m asking you because everyone here respects you. They know you won’t be walked over, and they listen to you.” You still didn’t give him an answer. “Think about it and let me know before the end of the night. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.” The nervous butterflies in your stomach turned to bricks as you left his office.
***
“In a drab little town they call Columbus,” Elias sang, “I find hard to find much. And many an hour o’ sweet happiness, I spent in any other town. ‘Till bad misfortune came over me, which caused me to stay around. Far away from real civilization-“
Dean’s music interrupted.
“No, no. no!” Elias stood and glared at Dean, who shrugged from the stage. He continued smirking and rubbing his hands together all the way to the ring, ignoring Elias’s personal space. “You better hope you don’t make it through this tournament or I will make you regret it.” The lunatic stepped aside and motioned that Elias could keep playing. He sat on a bottom turnbuckle like had won a front row seat. “I don’t trust you,” he said. Dean shrugged and rested his elbows on his knees.
Maybe one or two notes had hit the air before Sunil Singh came out and introduced Jinder Mahal. Elias stomped out of the ring and waited impatiently for his stool to be brought to the outside.
Jinder’s height advantage only lasted as long as he didn’t let Dean get to his feet. Even then, the Shield member risked more damage by taking time to ask Elias to play. The reply he got was angry playing and nothing to say. When Dean turned around, he just missed a boot to the face and began his own attack. Sunil, when he wasn’t focused on listening to the guitar, did his best to undermine his movements and was successful enough for Jinder to gain the upper hand. Then Sunil wasn’t where he needed to be and bounced off his employer.
With a kick and a drop, Jinder was pinned after a Dirty Deeds. Nobody in the ring proximity was happy about that outcome, so he left quickly.
***
Outside of the Nia Jax’s locker room, Renee was waiting. She knocked again and stepped back when she finally heard footsteps. She smiled back to the champion once they were standing together. “Nia, you have had the Women’s Title for a while now. Your next title defense has just been officially announced. Do you have any reservations about facing another tried and tested veteran, Natalya, at Hell in a Cell?”
Nia shook her head. “Not at all. Natalya and I have had matches before. Some were ruled in her favor, many in mine. But it’s been a while and I’m looking forward to it.”
“Do you think she is going to be dishing out some revenge on Rhonda Rousey’s behalf?”
“Ha. No. Rhonda is her own woman. If she’s got problems with me, she knows where to find me. As for Natalya, she is also her own woman with her own goals and aspirations in this company. There’s not going to be anything out of place-“
Renee flattened herself against the wall as Nia was attacked from behind. Ruby Riott laughed and kicked at her stomach and ribs. Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan were nowhere to be seen, but Renee didn’t stay to find out. Ruby was about to pull Nia to her feet when arms wrapped around her stomach and pulled her away. Natalya slammed her into some crates and checked on Nia. She stood, ready for another attack, and shouted at Ruby.
“What are you doing?”
Ruby checked her lip for blood with a smirk. “Ensuring my place at Hell in a Cell. You don’t mind do you?”
“I earned my spot. You don’t get to cut the line.” She stomped forward, forcing Ruby back.
“Cut the line? I was just taking notes from your friend Rhonda.” Twin cackling voices came up behind her. Liv and Sarah flanked Ruby in case Natalya lunged, or Nia recovered from offscreen. “Now if you’ve really got an issue with my methods, why not teach me a lesson? I just took care of Nia, and if I can beat you in a match I get to join you two at Hell in a Cell. How about that?”
Natalya scoffed. “You really think I’d walk into that trap? With your two back-ups, I’m not going to be put into the position to be outnumbered.”
Ruby looked at her teammates and shooed them away. “That’s an easy fix. I’ll make sure Sarah and Liv stay backstage. Just you and me.” She held out her hand for a handshake. Natalya stared at it like it was an unreliable contract. She took it anyway, gripping it tightly until Ruby fought to get away.
***
While the agreement was being made in the back, Alicia Fox had made her entrance into the ring for her match with Sasha Banks. The Boss made her entrance without much pomp or circumstance. She motioned for the bell almost as soon as she got in the ring, a motion that Alicia repeated. The referee complied.
It was another golden match between the two. Each woman was putting all she had out on the canvas and dragging her opponent through it. Alicia was able to escape a Bank Statement with a fingertips grip on the ropes. Sasha had just enough energy to arch out of a Northern Lights Suplex. Miraculously, neither had attempted to use the other’s hair to their advantage.
The stage lit up with bright neon colors.
Sasha froze. She turned slowly and faced the stage just in time to see Bayley come out. With a growl, she turned back towards Alicia, who backed away in a snap with her hands held up in surrender. Bayley smiled as Sasha came to the ropes. “What are you doing here, Bayley? Nobody asked for you.”
“Actually, they did.” Bayley ignored Sasha’s further comments and joined Corey, Cole, and Coachman at the desk. She put on her headphones so she could participate. It also doubled as a noise dampener to whatever Sasha was yelling. “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late. Didn’t want to back into too many people backstage.”
“We’re glad to have you, Bayley,” Cole said. Corey started to comment, but he flinched as Alicia grabbed Sasha by her shoulders and dropped her to the canvas.
It was all distraction from then on. Sasha would do enough to keep Alicia down for a while, then would only take the pin to two. Every time she looked over at commentary, Bayley would look down at absent notes. Even Alicia screaming as her forehead was run across the ropes couldn’t catch Bayley’s attention.
“If you were just going to ignore me, why did you come out?” Sasha glared at her. She barely removed her shin from the back of Alicia’s neck on the ropes in time for the count. The ref tried to give her a warning, but she waved him away. “I am doing everything you have ever been scared to do. Extreme Rules was a fluke. You only won the match because I pushed you to your limits. Then like a coward you put that huggable façade back on. When are you going to learn? You are not soft and friendly. You are hard and vicious. Like m-“
Alicia had taken plenty of time to catch her breath. She tried the suplexes again, now that Sasha was out of breath herself. They were successful. She bounced out of the ring and up the ramp with the win.
Bayley took off her headset and walked to the side of the ring that Sasha had rolled to. “That is why I came out.”
***
Kurt was just about to leave his office after officiating Natalya and Ruby’s match when you arrived. “Mr. Angle,” you said, passing him a sheet of paper, “you said next week was pretty much set up. For the problems I can foresee arising, I came up with a few ideas. Look over them and text me any suggestions or alterations. I’ve got one last interview, so I can’t stay.” You quickly shook his hand and rushed out shouting over your shoulder. “Thanks for the opportunity!
He looked over the sheet and nodded his head in pleasant surprise. “She’s going to be great.”
***
Thankfully Elias was where he was supposed to be. You took a deep breath and took your mic and list of questions. “Congratulations on your concert tonight, Elias. It went better than many of your previous attempts.”
He scrunched his nose in disagreement. “That was not the concert I was promised. I guess I will have to wait until Hell in a Cell to give a proper one.”
“Speaking of, what are your initial thoughts about your possible opponent. Tonight, it was decided that it will either be Dean Ambrose or Seth Rollins. Do you have a preference?”
“No.” He chuckled, “but you probably do.” You ignored that remark with a huff and waited for him to say anything more. “It doesn’t matter which member of the Shield shows up to the cell. Neither of them will be walking out with my title.” His scarf was suddenly interesting. Fiddling with it, he asked you a question. “What did you think about my music tonight?”
You gulped. “Um.” Elias frowned. “No, no. They were good. Great. I just have a preference to when you just… play.”
“You like it better when I don’t sing.”
“Not like that. It’s just… every week you insult the town we’re in and your opponents or people who have wronged you. And I agree, most of them deserve it. But when you strum out a tune? It’s new every time. I was never dexterous enough to learn an instrument. Words are more my thing. When you leave the words out of it, I hear so much more. More than what I can expand my own horizons too. It really is a gift.” You couldn’t tell if he was deep in thought or aloof. “Please don’t hate me too much.”
Elias’s cheeks tensed as he held back a smile. With one more quick glance at you, he started playing a more cheerful reprise of one of the earlier songs. You smiled as he walked away.
***
Ruby made a big show of sending Liv and Sarah away from the ring. They had accompanied her right up to the apron, joining her in slapping the canvas. Natalya was unfazed by their display. She continued to be unfazed through the start of the match.
The crowd was behind Natalya one hundred percent. It made her faster. Unpredictable in the best of ways. And stronger. She held Ruby in a choke hold for a long time, hoping to weaken her quickly and end the match sooner. The sooner the match was over, the sooner she could prepare for her match with Nia. But letting her mind drift to Hell in a Cell early had it’s consequence. Ruby made her move.
Everything Natalya had built up was undone. Ruby had stored away her energy and now used it against Natalya’s growing exhaustion. She twisted her arm around as far as it could go, then kicked high into her face. The number one contender was officially ruled a co-contender as Ruby won the pin.
“I’ll see you at Hell in a Cell,” Ruby called up to her from the floor.
***
The main event could only be described as bedlam. Nobody was aligned with the other or had any qualms about completely demolishing anyone. Braun and Lashley went after each other. Kevin rolled out of the ring and Roman stood in one corner. Waiting. He was brought into the center of the action when Lashley crashed into him. Braun soon had them both by the throat and sent them bouncing on the canvas.
Kevin tried to attack Braun after that and was partially successful. He tossed him into a corner and rolled into his chest with a cannonball. Braun fell to one side and Kevin tried for a pin, but he was too close to the ropes. Grabbing onto the bottom one, Braun pulled himself to the outside with Kevin still sitting on his chest desperately holding onto his leg.
Roman and Lashley made it to their feet. They tossed Kevin out of the ring and fought one another. This circling continued until it was just Roman and Braun in the ring. Roman jumped for a superman punch but was caught around his waist. Braun dropped him in a powerslam that kept him from moving for the count of three… or for several seconds more.
He threw Roman over the ropes to the floor where the others were also laid out. When he turned around, Finn Balor was standing right behind him. The Universal was bright and proud around his waist. With a roar, he charged. But Finn was too quick, and Braun had just been through an intense match. Braun was taken to his knees and then to his back where Finn could jump on him in a Coup de Grace.
The human side of the demon laughed on his way out of the ring. He stepped over Roman, Kevin, and Lashley each in turn. He turned at the top of the ramp, a bright smug smile on his face.
Brooklyn has never been a safe place to begin with. Sometimes getting rescued can take you deeper into danger. When the reader finds herself suddenly swept into the secrets of vampires and a pair of crystal blue eyes, she begins to find answers to questions she never thought she would ask.
Pairing: Modern Vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N); original villain, appearance by Wanda Maximoff
Warnings/Promises: opening trigger warning for assault (it is unsuccessful), moments of terror, vampires doing vampire things, vampire-related deaths, mentions/descriptions of blood (it is a vamp fic after all), SMUT, oral (female receiving), smut is noted so you can skip it if you’d like
Word Count: 6000 (sorry, not sorry, so much plot!)
Note: Written for @after-avenging-hours August AU Challenge. This is as close to writing horror as I have ever gotten. So be thus warned. On a funnier note, I forgot who I was writing for and had to completely rewrite my outline. (That Vamp!Loki fic might come out at a later date.) It still came out good and I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is super appreciated!
The moment you felt his eyes on you in the diner, your body shivered and filled your bloodstream with adrenaline. Your fingers and toes twitched with the urgency to run. Then you thought it over. You were in a public place. There were several people around, and you could leave when another table did. The idea worked until the party you followed went in the opposite direction from your apartment. Swallowing the dryness in your mouth, you turned towards home a few blocks away.
Your footsteps had an echo.
You looked over your shoulder. There was no one there. By the time you’d walked one block, your heartbeat was louder than your steps and fast enough to sound like running. So you did. You ran.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Three pavement chunks crossed.
Thump. Pat. Thump. Pat. Thump. Pat.
It was harder for your echo to keep up, but he did. A hand snagged your hair and tugged you back into a hard chest. Another hand clamped over your mouth as he dragged you into an alley. The streetlights flashed over the blade that cut through the strap of your purse. Bright teeth smiled, and the knife toyed with the buttons on your shirt. It cut through the top one. With your eyes, you pleaded for mercy.
Over his shoulder, two red lights blinked.
The knife and the smile were gone. You stayed where you were, frozen, as you listened to the scuffle. Somebody thudded into the wall with a groan. Small metal broke on the brick. A larger metal rang as it was picked off the pavement, then jingled as it fell. There was a harsh cry. Then a drowned gurgling.
You squeaked as cold hands tapped at your shoulders. Looking up, the two red lights drained into two blue eyes.
“Are you alright?”
The adrenaline in your system gave up, and darkness rushed up to meet you.
***
Your phone alarm was a rude awakening. It buzzed and fell to the floor, forcing you to crawl out of bed to find it. Officially awake, you took a second to breathe. What a terrible dream. The missing top button said it wasn’t a dream. You shot up. Did your attacker get murdered? Why weren’t you at a hospital? What if your memory was wrong? Were you even attacked? Stretching, you confirmed you had been. The tops of your shoulder blades were sore and you could feel what used to be ragged skin from getting shoved into rough bricks. Who had patched you up?
This was way too much thinking. Especially before coffee.
Groggily you walked to your kitchen, bumping into things that seemed to have shifted overnight. At least your coffee machine was still automatic. The cup seemed unfamiliar, and you weren’t sure why you left it on the counter, but it held coffee just fine. You opened up the fridge for creamer.
There was blood everywhere. Rows and rows of it. Hanging in bags from the racks and from an extra bar on the top. Various types, A+ through O-. And there was a container of creamer, which you hastily grabbed before shutting the door.
You were still dreaming. You had to be. The gurgling. That’s what it was. Way too many movies and then the stress from last night, yep. Your addled brain was making you see things. And the way to prove it was to look again. You took a deep breath and looked again.
Blood packets.
The door shut and opened several times as you tried to bring yourself back to reality.
Coffee. You needed your coffee.
“Don’t drink that.”
With a shriek, you dropped the cup. It never made it to the ground.
A large blond man was before you in a blink, holding your unspilled cup. “It has iron powder in it. Not that it would hurt you, but it probably wouldn’t taste good. At least to you.” The man stepped back and added some sugar to the cup before taking a sip. He reached into another cabinet and pulled out a travel-sized creamer. “Here. Use this, and you can take it home when you leave.”
Home?
Loose ends snapped into place. The things that had shifted overnight were not yours. The cups were in the wrong place. And now that you were paying attention, the walls were a different color and there wasn’t an atom of light coming through the curtains. The fridge. One more thread clicked, and you hastily ran your hands around your neck.
The man chuckled. “I didn’t bite you, don’t worry. I would have taken you home, but I didn’t have your permission to look through your things. Or to enter your place. You passed out before I could ask.”
“Where am I?” Before he could answer, the rest of your questions spilled out. “Who are you? What happened to that guy? When did you patch me up? Are you going to drink me? Am I dreaming?” You let him guide you to a chair and focused on breathing. The man started pouring another cup.
“My name is Steve. You are in my apartment, about twelve hours from when we met. We are across the street from the alley. The man who attacked you has ben taken care of. He’s alive and in jail. I patched you up while watching the police cars through the window. When you didn’t wake up for a while, I almost called the hospital.” He placed the tiny creamer and the bowl of sugar on the table in front of you.
“I don’t blame you for not taking me,” you said, playing with the sugar spoon. “They shouldn’t have had a reason to peek, but your fridge looks incriminating.”
“Thank you. I am not going to bite you. And,” he handed you the cup, “you are not dreaming.” The warmth from your cup and the way it burned our tongue verified his last statement.
Your breathing had eased down to normal. Your heartbeat was approaching sleep-steady. Steve sat across from you and waited patiently. You watched him too. How his eyes didn’t waver under your gaze. Your fear faded away into curiosity. “Am I allowed to ask questions about… being a vampire?”
He nodded. “Of course. Am I allowed to ask your name?”
“Yeah,” you blushed. “Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Ask away.”
It was the best conversation you think you’d ever had. The books had some correct things but were completely wrong in others. Like Steve couldn’t go out in the daytime. So he had black-out curtains and as a further preventive measure, he painted the glass too. He showed you, pulling back the fabric to reveal pictures rendered in an opaque stained-glass style. If there had been light coming through, you would have believed they came from a church. On the other hand, he was not averse to garlic and used it a lot in his cooking. Neither silver or crosses had any effect on him.
Steve asked you questions too. You told him about your job at the call center for the police station. You had been leaving to enjoy a few days off. He was glad he could help and that he wasn’t costing you your living. You told him about Wanda, your best friend who worked at the station next to yours and about your boss. “She’s not supposed to make us work overtime because of the phycological strain of taking emergency calls. But she’ll squeeze in an extra hour or two and guilt us out of overtime pay. One of these days the regional manager is going to show up and probably fire her. Unless she grovels her way out of it.” When you told him about your kickboxing lessons, he wasn’t as surprised as you were that you froze.
“If you need someone to practice with and gain the muscle memory that you need, let me know.”
It was dark again by the time the conversation puttered out. You were tired, and Steve had noticed. He offered to walk you home. At the main door to his apartment complex, you had to laugh. Across the street and one building over was your apartment complex. You invited him up.
“If you promise not to bite me.”
Steve smirked. “I won’t. Unless you ask me nicely.”
***
“Wanda, you should see this guy.” You flipped through your phone for pictures. It had been a couple of weeks but still, Steve kept checking up with you. “He walks me home from night shifts, so I feel safe.”
She hummed appreciatively at a picture you took of the two of you on the fire escape. “And you kept him a secret for this long because…?”
Oh, so many reasons. “I didn’t want you to freak out. And I wasn’t expecting him to stick around this long.” You hissed as she elbowed your ribs.
“McCready alert,” she whispered. You both lowered your heads and focused on your lunch. Still, your boss came over.
She tsked. “Hurry it up, ladies. Chatting is for once you’ve left the building. And Y/N, put your phone away. I know it’s lunch, but it’s still the tax payer’s time.” She waited for your ‘yes ma’am’ then turned on her heel and left to fret over another group of workers.
You and Wanda leaned back in your chairs. “I can’t wait until management gets wind of this,” Wanda moaned.
“Wait. You did it? You actually did it?”
She gave you a mischievous smirk. “Had to sneak my phone for a video of her pressuring Maria last week, but yes. The email has been sent. There are multiple copies of evidence. We should be rescued any day now.” You gave her a tight hug before going back to work.
The day turned sour after that.
“Yes, Ma’am, help is on the way.” You switched over to a cop ready for dispatch and told him the address. “Another body. Same as the others. Bloodless and with a punctured neck.” That was the third call of it’s kind that day. By the time you were about clock out, there had been three more. But the last person who was called in had survived. And they were still lucid as they were being strapped to the gurney. Which of course was caught on camera by every news station in the city.
The man’s eyes were glassed over with newly formed cataracts. “But I saw him. Big. Broad shouldered. His skin was cold as ice.” He reached out and grabbed at a first responder. “And his eyes. Red as a sunrise. He caught me in those and then I couldn’t see anything.” The doors closed and the sirens ended the video.
Steve was waiting for you in the lobby when you got off. “I know. I heard.” He waited until you were out in the street away from the last people going home before continuing. “It wasn’t me. These attacks happened during the day.” He took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “There’s another vampire in Brooklyn.”
He was forced to stay in as the attacks continued; you stayed with him every night. Six more each day and there were no other survivors. Even the guy in the hospital died. Some reports said from his wounds. One report you overheard in the break room from the case detective said that he was found with two more holes in his neck. Whoever was doing this had come back to finish the job.
By the fifth day, Steve was weak. He could barely walk from his bedroom to the kitchen. The once eerily stocked fridge was depleted to only a few bags. Rationing them wasn’t working. And worse: because the blood wasn’t flowing, not alive, if the attacks went on much longer he was going to have to go out and hunt. And possibly get caught in the frenzy.
He chuckled as you dabbed his clammy skin with a damp towel. “I can’t starve to death, one of the perks of being immortal. But this isn’t even as bad as when I was holed up during the Jack the Ripper Scare.” You sat back on your haunches and squinted at him. “Fine. I wasn’t around back then.” He looked less in pain while he was talking, so you tried to keep it going.
“When did you turn… get turned?”
“World War Two. I was a skinny kid and couldn’t get into the army. A doc caught me lying on my papers and told me about an experiment he was running. I showed up and he injected me with something blue. Didn’t find out until later that it was vampire blood.”
“Blue?”
“Yeah. Confused me too. Vampires can’t make their own iron, so our blood doesn’t oxidize when it makes contact with air. When we… feed… the iron we ingest flows through our bloodstream like anybody else. That’s what’s so confusing about these attacks. Feeding on people should only give them anemic qualities for a few days. But they have been completely drained.” He gasped and sank further into the pillows. “We only tested with so much. Maybe if they had made me drink more I would know enough to help.” He hissed and grit his teeth and you reached forward to use the towel again. He grabbed your wrist. You couldn’t help but notice the purple back-hue to his eyes as his thumb traced over your veins on your wrist.
You leaned closer. “What? You gettin’ hungry?”
“Don’t tempt me, doll.”
You bit your lip. “What if I want to tempt you?” He let go of your wrist and guided it to your lap. “Really. I hate seeing you like this. Please.” You kissed his forehead. “Let me help.” He shuddered a breath as you nosed across his cheekbones. “Steve, please.”
Next thing you knew, you were on your back. Steve’s eyes were dark and focused. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t take much, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He groaned as you turned your head, giving him access to your neck.
“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”
He nodded and took a deep breath, gazing at your exposed neck. His eyes glazed over with the same red hue you saw all those nights ago. Your breath caught in your throat as his lips made contact with your skin. He chuckled as your heart rate increased. He nipped at you, just enough with his sharp teeth to allow the tiniest amount of blood to well to the surface.
“Last chance,” he said, his voice an octave lower.
“Yes.”
{Smut Starting}
You gasped. Because of the placement, it felt like any other hickey. It made your skin flush and goosebump. As he kept going, time slowed. His words muttered against your skin sounded like he was yards away in an echoing tunnel.
“You taste so good, Y/N. Makes me wonder what the rest of you tastes like.” He moaned as you gripped his biceps. “Would you like that? Hmm? Me taking all of you. Your blood, your essence, your pleasure.” He inhaled and kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. “If you have an answer, best make it now.”
“Please, Steve,” your breath hitched as he ran his teeth over your shoulder. “Please.”
He pulled back. His cheeks had a rosy hue that contrasted with the dark lust in his eyes. “No tricks, no powers. Do you want this?”
“Yes.” You pulled him down for a kiss. The shirt you had bundled in your fists was tossed away, giving you access to so much skin to touch and admire. He rid you of your clothes too, shredding them. You got rid of your bra yourself.
Steve wasn’t focused on your chest once he had your shorts off. Your thighs were parted wide as they could go. He nipped up and down your stomach, not breaking your skin, before nosing down your thighs. “I hope you like to scream, Y/N. I like my meals vocal.” He caught your gaze. The comparison hit you. The way his eyes hovered between red and blue reminded you of a night sky at its darkest right before the dawn. Satisfied that he had your attention, he began to suck hungrily at your sex. Indeed, you did scream. You would have screamed down the stars if he had just. Let. You. Reach. That. Peak.
You were panting. Eyes glazed and unseeing besides your focus on him. Your nails lightly scratched at his scalp, making him grunt. You were shivering too.
“’bout ready to cum, baby doll?” he joked, taking a breather to mouth at your inner thigh. It made him laugh when you couldn’t form the words, insisting instead by furiously nodding your head. You arched back into the pillows as his hand sank down and a finger curled through your folds. “That’s it, doll. Let me take it all.” He added a second and set his mouth against you again. Your body was quivering on the edge until he sucked down on your clit. While you were falling apart, you could hear him lapping up everything.
His hands, cool against your passionate heat, moved up your body, followed by the rest of him. You reached for his belt buckle and found it missing. Instead, your hands wrapped around his length. It was your turn to toy with him now. Each stroke and twist made him hoarsely moan and gasp.
With a broken chuckle, you reached lower and tightened your grip at the base of his cock. “’bout ready to come, baby?”
He batted your hands away and pinned your wrists above your head with a smirk. He mouthed at the valley of your breasts, then moved up to lave at your nipples. You writhed in his grasp. “Not so cheeky now, huh?” He moved to your other breast, making you mewl under his ministrations. Shifting his grip, he held your wrists in one hand. With the other free, he traced it down your face, pushing your hair out of the way, and then to his bite. You shuddered as he touched it and kept trembling as he continued down your body. He teased his head at your entrance, coating his length in your slick. He captured your lips in his, delightedly swallowing your scream as he bottomed out in one thrust.
Steve fought to control his breathing as your walls welcomed him in. His grip faltered, and he had to brace on either side of you. You kept your arms up. Ready, you started the rolling pace. He moved with you, easing you into something faster and breathing hotly on your neck. He brought his face nose-to-nose with yours and thrust faster. Harder. Until you were seeing stars.
“Steve-“
“I’m right behind you, doll. I’m right. There.” He reached for your clit again. “Let me hear you, Y/N.”
You weakly cried out as your toes curled. It turned into a scream as Steve bit down on your neck as he came. Your vision blanched. He fell to one side, chest heaving. Not that you could catch your breath either.
{Smut Ended}
Faintly, you could feel his lips at your neck again, his tongue running over your punctures. “They’ll be gone in a few minutes.” He sank back into the pillows and pulled your hand onto his chest.
For once, Steve’s skin was warm under your touch. You hummed and snuggled closer to him while you dragged your fingers up and down his chest. Your mind turned on again, against your will.
“Have you loved before?” you asked.
His chest rose and fell deeply. “Yes.” You paused to let him continue if he wanted to or to change topics. “Her name was Peggy. Back during the war. Soft hair. Powerful brown eyes with legs for days. And British. She kept them from putting me in an early version of cryo. Helped me escape too when they wanted to keep using me for spy missions.” His Adam apple bobbed in his throat. “She wouldn’t let me turn her.” He said it without malice or blame, but you could hear the hurt. “We were married, but eventually I had to tell people I was her son.”
You knew the answer but hoped that you could be wrong. “Where is she?”
“Back in the UK. She left in her sleep. Peaceful. As it should be.” He placed his hand over yours on his chest. “I’ll always have her. And you will always have me.” He kissed the top of your head and held you as you fell asleep.
***
As suddenly as the attacks started, they stopped. The public was on edge, but they were comforted by the usual crime documentary idea that serial killings stop because something happened to the murderer. The cops in the precinct were not comforted. It made everybody snappy. Broken pencils. Slammed drawers. And shouted statements that could have been said normally. The only person seemingly unaffected was your boss. She fluttered her hands to get the incoming floor’s attention.
“Good morning to you all. Today is going to be like any other day. Except that we will have a visitor.” She turned and gestured to a man standing so still you hadn’t realized he was there. “This is Mr. Sorin Vladimirescu. He will be observing our process and asking a few of you some questions.” She chuckled nervously. “I know you all will be honest.” Her wristwatch chimed. “And that’s the bell. To your stations everyone.”
You and Wanda giggled as the man gently ordered McCready to her office. Someone must have also given him the heads up how cold they kept the building because he was wearing a dark grey peacoat and matching gloves. His long dark hair swept over his shoulders and was tied back from his face. You looked back at your desk before you were caught looking at his light hazel eyes.
“Handsome too,” Wanda whispered before putting on her headset.
The only person you noticed he took away for questions was the newer girl. Her usual nervousness was replaced by calm ease with just a smile and firm but welcoming handshake. It was about another half an hour before he made it to your and Wanda’s side of the floor.
“You must be Y/N,” he said once you’d turn your station off. “I’ve heard from just about everyone how level-headed you were last week during all those attacks. I listened to some of the recordings myself, and I have to agree.” He smiled and caught your gaze. It was almost impossible to look away except you had to blush. “I was wondering if you could have a longer private chat about helpful calming techniques I could pass along. If that isn’t to forward?” Nothing else came to mind except a yes. “Perfect. I will see you at the end of your shift then.”
Once he had shifted his attention, you shook your head. The front of your head hurt. You must have been staring at the screen too long and didn’t realize the damage until your eyes got a rest. Stealing a glance you noticed he was now talking with Wanda. You didn’t mind resting your eyes on him.
“Thank you for blowing the whistle,” he told Wanda, giving her the same intense look. “I have learned many things today. Because you stepped up, a lot of your coworkers are going to be better off.”
Wanda beamed under his praise. She shared a giggle with you once he had left. Neither of you could help but watch his retreating form before turning your stations back on.
***
The taxi Sorin had hailed pulled up to the door of one of the nicer hotels in the city. He walked around and offered you his arm to lead you into the building. The doorman greeted you both and encouraged you to enjoy your stay. Sorin kept his hand on the small of your back all the way to the door of his room.
“I took the liberty of having an evening dress brought for you.” He guided you into the suite and shut the door to give you some privacy.
On the bed was a white gown with drooping sleeves rimmed in delicate lace. It was fastened with a belt around your waist and fit you perfectly. Touching your bare throat, you took your grandmother’s necklace and matching bracelet from your purse. Jewelry was discouraged at work, but you usually forgot that until you were at the door. The chain and pendant matched nicely.
Sorin smiled and took your hand in his still gloved one. “Lovely. Shall we?” Dinner was brought to the room. He finally shed his jacket and gloves before pushing in your chair. The staff stayed and served each delicious course. They left after dessert, dimming the lights even lower on the way out. He reached out for your hand then jerked it back. “That is a lovely bracelet. Looks like silver.” He smiled roughly and took your other hand to lead you to the window seat.
“About keeping calm,” you started.
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get to that in a minute, dear. Tell me about yourself. Do you have anyone waiting for you at home? We’d hate to keep them up.” When a name didn’t come to mind, he scooted closer and pushed your hair out of your face to get a better view of your eyes. The light kiss to your lips was cold and hesitant. He breathed hard as he moved closer to your neck. “Y/N, would you mind removing your necklace? We don’t want it to get in the way.”
Your necklace? It hadn’t been in the way when… Steve.
“Steve,” you whispered. You said his name again, louder, as your mind slowly became your own. Sorin grabbed for the back of your neck when you jumped off the seat. With a shout, he let go and pulled his steaming hand to his chest.
The front door shook on its hinges. It shattered completely and Steve fell through. He was breathing hard. His eyes were a pale pink. Two steps in he fell to his knees. Strong hands on your shoulders kept you from rushing to his side.
“This? This is Brooklyn’s protector?” Sorin scoffed. “I’d heard stories. The soldier. Defender of the innocent and damnation for the wicked. I would have thought there were plenty of corrupted souls to feed on. And yet here you are. Starving.”
Steve struggled to his feet, bracing on the table. “I only take what I need.”
“All you take is their iron.” Sorin shifted his grip to your waist, wrapping his arms around and pulling you close. “I take it all. It’s not like they are going to need it. Iron, calcium, all the nutrients in their soon-to-be-dead body.”
“Cataracts,” you whispered. You shivered as he kissed the side of your face.
“Beautiful and brilliant. Yes. Sucking the nutrients out of someone has the effect of sucking out a lifetime. The fear in their eyes ages them. And then they die.”
“It’s a waste of life.” Steve tried to step towards you, but Sorin growled over your shoulder.
You licked your lips. “Why waste the life? Why not only do half, then let them heal and do it again? Then you’d have an endless supply.”
Sorin laughed and started dancing around the room with you at a frenzied pace you stumbled to keep up with. “Darling, we are immortal! Your lives are like blips of light to us. What is one more snuffed out now and then? The world does not miss them for long.” He grinned, spinning you and making you scream. “But it’s not a perfect life. I enjoy the finer things of this world. Thankfully, if you drink with the right people, sometimes they lead you to the right people to drink.”
Shivering, you tried to distract him. “Mercenary?” You cried out as he tightened his arm on your lower back. As if to crush your spine.
“You could call it that. I don’t curve my appetites to teaching the unwanted about life. Not that I’m paid to. And then there are the wives. The widows. The ones who have read to many romance novels. I save their souls when I deny them immortality.” He looked straight into Steve’s furious gaze. “Can you say the same?”
“Let her go.” Steve’s eyes were dangerously red now.
Your captor feigned thought. “Um… no. I don’t think I shall.” With a hiss, he yanked your necklace from your neck and leaned for your neck. The second his tongue ran over your skin, he jolted away. Freed, you ran to Steve and helped support him. Sorin’s eyes flashed crimson as he observed your body. “Ah, I see it now. You’ve claimed her.” He shrugged. Unbothered. “No matter. There is another.” He looked pointedly at you, then turned and crashed through the window.
***
The jab about ‘another’ made your blood run cold. There were two options, but the way he had looked at you could only mean one. Then when Wanda wouldn’t answer her phone, you descended into the panic that had been absent in your own encounter. Presently, you were sitting shotgun in a borrowed sports car. The owner, a very unlucky shark that Steve routinely caught frisking frat boys for imaginary debts, had been dropped off in the emergency room.
“Turn here.”
Wanda’s apartment building loomed. Having given Steve permission to enter, you raced up to her apartment, hoping Sorin’s head start wasn’t enough. You used your key copy to enter the door.
She was arched against the ceiling. Her mouth was opened for a body-wracking scream, one that you couldn’t hear. Her eyes were clamped shut. Every half-blink you could make out a swirling red mist surrounding her body, holding her in place, coursing through her.
Sorin sat calmly on the couch.
“Ah, you made it. Just in time to see the finale.”
At his words, Wanda fell to the floor. You moved to help her, but Steve held you back. She clawed at the carpet, her nails unnaturally long and sharp. You gasped as she saw you for the first time.
Wanda’s eyes were blood red.
She coughed. “What did you do to me?” An aftershock made her moan and roll onto her back.
“I saved you. From the march of time that tramples the best of flowers.” Sorin observed his nails as they lengthened to sharp points. “Is that going to be a problem, soldier?”
“Yeah,” Wanda said, wobbling to her feet and running her tongue over her new teeth, “it is. Take it back.” Her voice wavered. “Take it back.”
Sorin came to stand before her. He took her hands and kissed them. “Why would I want to do that? Think about it, darling.” He placed a finger on her lips before she could speak. “Eternity is slow at times, but you can enjoy every moment. Every sunrise. Every soft snow.”
“Then do it yourself,” she spat. “Why do you need me? How did you do this to me and how to you undo it?”
“It’s a lonely life, darling. And painful if done incorrectly. Ask the soldier. To make a bride?” He clicked his tongue and smiled, baring his teeth. “That takes a bit extra. Six days of six full feedings. A beautiful night under an empty moon. Sharing my gift.” He trapped her close to his body. “Even though you are only halfway done, it cannot be undone. There is only one last step to making you mine. And then… eternity carries on.” For a moment he leaned towards her mouth, then with a growl, he turned to look at you and Steve. “I do not wish an audience.”
Steve’s eyes flickered, and he moved you behind him. “Then you’re gonna have to kick us out.”
Sorin pushed Wanda to one side. “So be it.”
They leapt at one another, colliding and twisting mid-air. The slashes they made at each other healed quickly like zippers closing over the wounds. You and Wanda ran from one side of the room to the other as furniture was broken and holes punched into walls. The longer the fight went on, the longer it took Steve to heal. Sorin threw him into the support wall, chuckling as Steve sank to the floor. He pinned him to there, one hand around his throat and the other tense above his heart. Steve gave a shout. He fought against the hand caged over his heart, but the fight and the lack of oxygen were making him weak. Sorin wearied of his attempts. You winced as Steve bounced off the floor.
“Is this enough? This pitiful life you have chosen?” Sorin stepped onto Steve’s chest and pressed until you heard a slight crack. “You only take what you need, so you have the advantage over silver and the like. But I am stronger. I can go out in the light, feed whenever I want to. There is only a short time until the sun rises. My bride and I will be immune. But you? You will scream and smoke and disintegrate into unholy ash. Is that what you want your lover to see? It must be, for your death is imminent.”
“Do you always talk in paragraphs?”
Sorin spun to the source of your voice. Right into your fist wrapped around your grandmother’s necklace. He let out an unearthly scream and twisted away. Into Wanda’s path. Her eyes were an even fiercer red. When her long nails sank into his throat his cry gurgled in his throat. She kept digging and pulling. “Now, Y/N.” You tossed her the chair leg that had been broken during the fight. She looked into Sorin’s eyes, freezing him in place as she used her weapon. He shuddered as the air left his body. Around the wound, cracks formed and crumbled away until there was nothing left of Sorin Vladimirescu.
Wanda sank to her knees. Waiting. Looking at her hands she was surprised when they didn’t fade to dust as well.
“He didn’t make you his,” Steve said, sitting with his back against the wall. “You are your own vampire. Immortal outside of his power.”
She leaned into you as you kneeled and kept her from tipping over. “What do I do now? I don’t know anything about this except from fiction.” Her body shivered in your arms. You sent a look to Steve. Pleading. He nodded in agreement.
“You can stay with Y/N and I. I have the journal I kept when I was turned. It’s not perfect, but it might be the best base-line we have.”
Nodding, Wanda sat up straighter. “Okay. I might call my brother too. Pietro. Though, if you don’t mind, we might get a different apartment close to yours. We don’t want to be wholly in the way.”
You smiled. “I think the apartment right above us just opened up. I’ll give the landlady a call.”
While Wanda went to gather a few overnight/overday things, Steve met you in a reassuring kiss. He hummed against your forehead. “So. Does this mean you are moving in with me?”
“I guess so.”
“For how long?”
There was more to that question than the surface. You took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to turn me. I don’t want to put you through the pain you went through with Peggy again either, but…” You sighed and hugged him close. “I’m afraid even of the idea of eternity. All I want is to love you for as long as I live.”
He breathed deep, letting it out slow. “Then I’ll be here. For as long as you live. And I’ll love you forever.” He kissed the top of your head. “I promise.”
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.
Our Deepest Desires 