Prompt: “I would like to ask for a request, where the reader is plus size and insecure, so Sami Zayn, who she has a crush on for very long, shows her how beautiful he thinks she is 😊 smuuut please 😍😍”
Pairing: Sami Zayn x PlusSize!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: food, discussion of dieting, SMUT, oral (female receiving), implied further smut
Word Count: 1360
Note: Thank you so much for this request, anon. It actually helped me think through some things, and I hope it can maybe help you guys too. My Sami tag list only has five people on it, so there is plenty room for more; or there’s room on the WWE list too if you want to read about everyone. Same for all my lists. If you’ve got your own idea, send it in; my requests are open. Enjoy!
“So I understand the increase in protein-“
“More muscle,” you said stabbing another cube of chicken.
“But cutting out your fruit?” Nia scrunched up her face. “And no grains? Not even the good ones?”
“Right. No carbs. And if I’m going to effectively cut out sugar, that means not even the natural stuff. So no fruit.”
Nia shook her head. “This seems like an unnecessary amount of effort for something you don’t need. You’re not fat, honey. You’re a powerhouse.” She nudged your shoulder, “a thicc one.”
“I don’t feel thick, though.” You dropped your fork and your voice. “I feel like a balloon. I feel fat.”
“Hey,” she said softly, “we are both products of our heritage.” You heard the hurt in her voice and sighed.
“How did you accept it? Just… how did you do it?”
“I had help.” Nia looked around the room. “Half of the battle is having a support system. I had family, you and other friends. You all knew when I needed small compliments here and there. What works is an army louder than the haters.” She waved at somebody behind you. “Sami! Come tell Y/N how beautiful she is.”
“No,” you hissed. You put on an apologetic smile. “Sami, you don’t have to do that.”
The glow in his cheeks was suddenly brighter than his hair. “What if I want to?” He smiled as you blushed too. Nia’s dimples made an appearance as she watched you two, knowing how long you’d had a crush on him. She gave you a nod, then left for her warm-up.
“Nia was just teasing. You don’t have to-“
“But you are beautiful.” Sami blushed again. “I overheard a little of what you guys were talking about, and while I agree with Nia, I would like to volunteer as a member of your support team. If that’s okay?”
This could either be disastrous or the best idea in the world.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
Over the next several weeks, Sami joined your diet when he could. He directed you to different work-outs that you’d never thought to use before. And if he couldn’t be around, he always found a replacement who could encourage you almost as much as he did. You felt better. Brighter and more energetic. And you definitely smiled more when he was around. The more time you spent with Sami, the more you noticed the little ticks that had evaded your casual crush observations. Sparing with him gave you butterflies, though he never commented on how you would tumble over your words when you pinned him.
But the weight didn’t go away.
Soon you had reached a month and your weight hadn’t changed. You only measured once a week to keep from going crazy, but even that wore on you. And Sami noticed. It all came to a head when you broke down in your hotel room one night.
“What is wrong with me?”
Sami sat next to you on the bed and draped his arm over your shoulders. “Nothing is wrong with you.”
“Then how do you explain this?” You grave your stomach a slap. “I know results weren’t going to be immediate, but there should have been something lost at least.”
“Hey, hey,” Sami slid to his knees so you couldn’t avoid looking at him by staring at the ground. “There has been change. You’re stronger. You can throw me across the ring, and you couldn’t do that earlier. And, thin does not mean fit. Look at this.” He blustered around, patting his pockets until he found his phone. “Look at this. Athletes in a bunch of different sports, all with different body types. Weightlifting to gymnastics. And here,” he flipped a few pictures over, “all the same weight, just spread differently. All beautiful. And-“
“Sami.”
“Wait a second, I think I have another one.” He didn’t stop looking until he heard you giggle. Looking up he saw you smiling but crying. He dropped his phone and wiped away your tears. “Y/N-“
“Thank you.” You sniffed and leaned forward to press your forehead on his. It surprised you when Sami tilted his head so he could kiss you. What surprised you, even more, was how you leaned forward for more.
Sami pushed back against your lips until you were laying on the sheets and he was hovering over you. He broke away panting. “Y/N,” he whispered. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he tried again. “You don’t need me to feel beautiful or confident, but I want to show you what the world actually sees when it looks at you. When I look at you.” He dipped his head for a second before meeting your eyes again. “May I?”
All you could do was nod.
Gingerly, he reached under your shirt and trailed his fingers across your skin. Your breath hitched as goosebumps covered your body. You leaned up so he could remove your shirt. His mouth descended to the tops of your breasts. He kissed them softly. Then hummed. His hands moved back down your body, smoothing across your folds and muscles. His lips ghosted up your throat to your pulse point. His fingertips glided over the top of your sweats. With a glance of askance and your permission, he dipped his fingers beneath the band and started to push them down. You angled your hips up so they could join your shirt on the floor. Sami removed your underwear set next, leaving you bare to the cold and his gaze.
Sami grabbed your hands before you could cover up.
“Beautiful,” he said, whispering like he was in a library, hoarse and sharing a desperate secret. “And I could scream it to heaven. Then back and to heaven again.”
He kissed you on your forehead. Your nose. Your lips. Your chin. Your throat. Between your breasts. Several down and across your stomach. Above your belly button. Below your belly button. Just above your sex. On each hip. Down one thigh, then on the inside and to the other.
You were gasping. Each kiss was like a shock of electricity. Your body gave a jolt the closer he came to your sex. When he finally spread your legs open so he could see you, it was impossible to breathe. When he flattened his tongue on your lips, you released the last bit of oxygen in a frantic puff. His arms wrapped around your legs, guiding you to squeeze your thighs around his head. Something you would have never dreamed of doing. But it spurred him on to bring you the best of the delights you had ever experienced.
His fingers joined in and started to spread your leaking slick up to your clit. He hummed in delight as your walls clamped around them. Your hips bucked as far as they could with his death-grip on your thighs. Sami’s eyes peeked over your stomach up to your face. You were biting your lip. He chuckled into your thigh, scraping his scruff across your sensitive skin.
“You don’t have to be quiet, Y/N. Unless you want to. This is about you.” He sucked on your clit, making you cry out. “All about how my stunning, wonderful, gorgeous woman is perfect just the way she is.” You whined as he curled his fingers. “So perfect. So beautiful.” He moved faster, pumping and curling and lapping at you like it was going to be the last thing he ever did, humming with glee. You were blinded by light behind your eyes and came moaning his name.
Sami kissed the insides of your thighs one more time, then leaned over you with his hands beside your hips.
“Do you believe me now?”
“Uh-huh.”
He smirked. “Come again?”
You laughed and squeezed his wrist. “Yes.” You closed your eyes and focused on getting your breathing back to normal.
“Are you sure? You seem a little… uncertain.” He tilted his head and licked his fingers clean.
“You know,” you said breathing deep and readying for another round, “a few things are a bit… hazy. Could you clarify a few things?”
“Of course, Y/N. With everything between me and heaven.”
Prompt: “Are your requests still open? Cause I need some Drew McIntyre smut and that Joe fic you wrote blew my mind. Like y’all are already together and he gets jealous because Dolph keeps being a flirt. So, like possessive dommy Drew staking his claim.” – @ballins-princess
Pairing: Dom!Drew McIntyre x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: SMUT, oral (male receiving)
Word Count: 1430
Note: I apologize to any of my readers who like Dolph. He keeps getting hate in my fics… and will in this one too. He is a fantastic athlete, but I love to hate him with almost as much fervor as I do Miz. (There is a Dolph smut in the works though.) If you have an idea of your own, let me know! My requests and my tag lists are open. I hope you guys enjoy this.
Your cheeks hurt. Like ‘Oh my gosh will my mother ever stop taking pictures’ hurt. The hurt that reminded you of the ‘your face will freeze that way’ threat… as if hadn’t already.
“You have a really cute laugh, Y/N,” Dolph said for the millionth time that afternoon. “Are you from Tennessee?”
Heaven help you.
“’Cause you are the only ten-I-see on the roster.” He grinned, proud of himself as you forced yourself to laugh again.
“Did you steal that from Tye Dillinger? ‘Cause the ten-thing sounds like his style.” You leaned further back into the wall as Dolph leaned in like telling you a secret.
“Nah, it’s all me, sweetheart.”
He’s your love’s partner. You had to be nice to him. You couldn’t be the cause of issues. Drew had enough to worry about. You could handle this. For at least a few minutes more. Hopefully.
“Is this man both’rin’ you?” Drew strode into view over Dolph’s shoulder.
“No,” you breathed, relieved when Dolph moved away. “Thanks for the entertainment. Shall we?” You grabbed your purse and quickly rushed to Drew’s side. He was confused when you dragged him away until you were far enough away to take a breather.
“Was he botherin’ you?” The growl underlying his voice made you panic.
“No. Not at all. It’s just… it’s just Dolph you know,” you laughed. “You know how he never shuts up. Really.” You gulped as Drew crossed his arms. “Drew-“
He hummed to cut you short. “Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?” He kept staring at you with the same intensity as you tried to brush it off. But he saw straight through you. “Yer raight. I know Dolph.” Drew took a deep breath. “Tha bugger doesn’ know when to keep his mouth shut. I’m gonna give ‘im a lesson.”
“No, Drew.” You placed yourself between him and the path back to Dolph. “Not tonight. Tomorrow, please. Let us have tonight. I’m with you,” you wrapped your arms around his waist and felt his tense torso relax, “and I want to enjoy tonight. With you.”
Still, Drew growled. “Fine. Tomorrow I’m gunna let ‘im know that his advances are… unwelcome.” It made you shiver to see him tilt his head in that way. The way he did when he was going to get something he wanted. “How attached are you to the plan of dinner?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.” He suddenly had you trapped between him and the wall with his hand resting on your throat. “Because Dolph can’t flirt with you if you can’t walk enou’ to leave tha bed.”
“Strip.”
Your clothes dropped to the floor of your hotel room as fast as you could fumble out of the buttons and zippers. For whatever reason, your bra clasps got stuck. Your heart jumped to your throat as Drew stepped towards you.
“Allow me.” He stared down at you, reaching behind and freeing you. His hands grazed down your sides to your hips. With the slightest touch, he sent the last of the fabric to the floor. His breath caught in his throat and he reached up to thumb over your nipples. You closed your eyes in bliss, leaning into his touch. He stepped back and smiled as you whined. Drew palmed at the large bulge in his pants. You licked your lips, then flicked your eyes back up to his face. Where they were supposed to be.
He sat down on the bed and tilted his head so he could appreciate your form better. You stayed as still as you could, despite the buzzing under your skin. Again, your eyes drifted down to the bulge in his pants.
“Do ya want it?” He caught your eye with a bemused expression on his face. When you nodded, he leaned back on the bed and motioned you over with two curling fingers. You took slow steps, trying not to seem too eager. “I asked, do ya want it?” You quickly closed the distance and reached for the buckle on his pants. He unbuttoned the top button of his suit shirt while you lowered his zipper. You reached through the slit in his short for his length, brushing your thumb along the vein while pulling it out.
Bracing yourself on his thighs, you leaned down and gave his head a test lick. Drew groaned and let his head fall back. His thighs tensed under your hands as you ventured further. You licked the underside of his length from base to tip, pleased when he gasped in surprise. You took a deep breath. With one last lick of your lips, you began to wrap your mouth around him. Hollow. Suck. Lick. Batt your eyes. Repeat. You found your rhythm and gave Drew what you knew he liked. Behind it, you hoped you were telling him how much you preferred to be there with him than anywhere with Dolph.
You whined as Drew gently took hold of your hair and pulled you away.
“Nu-uh. I’m in control.”
“Yes, Sir,” you said without hesitation.
Drew couldn’t hide the dimple that peaked out. “Good girl.” He moved you to one side so he could stand and shed his pants and shorts. You took the initiative to unbutton his shirt. When it was open, you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed yourself into his warm chest, breathing deeply. His fingers combed through your hair and his chest began to rise and fall to match your breathing.
With a shrug, he dropped the shirt to the floor. You squealed as he fell back onto the bed with you trapped in his arms. He guided you up to sit on his stomach. Automatically, your hands splayed open across his pecs, which rippled under your touch. His hands came to rest on your hips. With a smirk, he began to guide you to slide back and forth. His cock was trapped beneath you. Your hips bucked each time the tip bumped into your clit. You tried to rush back for that sensation, but he maintained the pace. The longer he controlled you, the wetter you became.
Finally, he helped you up to sink down on his cock. You wiggled your hips at the bottom, feeling him fill you up so perfectly. A sigh fell from your lips. Your eyes snapped open from their hazy relaxed state and you slapped a hand over your mouth. Drew reached up and brought your hand back to his chest.
“I want ta hear ya, love. An’ by the time I’m done with ya, the whole floor is gonna know who you belon’ ta.”
Next thing you knew, you were on your back and Drew was holding your legs up and wide for him. You screamed his name as he thrust roughly into you. You saw stars. Clawing at the sheets, you fought to keep your eyes open because the view was spectacular.
Drew’s eyes were blazing. His hair had fallen over his face, and it swung as he rocked his hips forward and back. His skin was shiny with sweat, which dripped down between the curves of his abs. His chiseled jaw was taunt. You were mostly drawn to his lips, pursed tightly together though occasionally opening to let out a puff or a shout. Drew’s eyes drooped shut as your walls clamped around him.
“Cum, lass. Don’t worry; it won’t be ya last tonight.”
Your toes curled as he leaned forward to bury himself further in your heat. The blood rushing in your ears gave way to ringing when Drew flicked at your clit. You arched as far as you could go, then fell back into the sheets. Drew followed with a shout of his own, followed by moaning your name.
One he had eased out of you, he fell to lay beside you. You curled yourself into his chest, tucking your head under his chin. You were fighting off sleep when he started to stroke your arm.
“Rest, love. Just for a bit,” he hummed. “Dolph’s gonna be in ta next room in a few hours, probl’y alone. And I plan on making sure he hears who ya belong to as well.” He made room for you as you wriggled up to lay next to him on the pillows.
You smiled and bit your bottom lip. “Nothing like hearing how it should be done to get the lesson through his thick skull. I’m yours. And nobody is going to take me away from you.”
Drew nipped along the underside of your jaw to your ear. “Yer damn raight.”
Prompt: “I have an idea about a third part of Lessons Learned if your requests are still open? I was thinking something involving Elias’s latest feud for the Intercontinental with Seth?”
When Dolph Ziggler takes the title from Seth Rollins, Elias feels like he could have tried harder, several times over. The Reader encourages him with their words in private and with their actions in a lonely hallway.
Note: This has turned into a nice little series. It definitely wasn’t the plan, but it is a welcome surprise. I wrote this before Extreme Rules, so Elias and the Reader discuss some plans that could waver either way. If you would like to send in a request of your own, they are open as are all of my tag lists. Please let me know if you liked this fic, and/or the whole series. Enjoy!
“The referee doesn’t see it… and that’s it. Dolph Ziggler is a six-time Intercontinental Champion.”
Elias growled next to you as he watched Dolph escape with the title that should have been his. “I think I’d even prefer it if Seth had held onto it.: His fingers tightened dangerously around the neck of his guitar. When you slid your hand over his, he loosened his grip. But the next thing you knew the guitar was in your hands and he was stomping off down the hallway.
You rushed to follow him.
“Elias! Hey,” you grabbed for his wrist, bringing him to an undesired stop. “Talk to me.” He muttered something and tried to keep walking. “No. We can figure this out. Tell me-“
“Serves me right for trying to win the title with actual skill. I should have known only something like that was going to beat Seth. I could have involved you. I could have-“
“-done a lot of things. You still can.”
Elia slumped into the wall beside you. “I don’t think I can,” he whispered. “Roman, Finn, Seth. How many times do I have to lose an opportunity before it gets through my thick skull? I’m not made to be a champion.”
You didn’t know what to say. So, you kissed him. And you kept kissing him until he was pulling you into a dark hallway. The only shelter besides the shadows were towers of stage boxes on either side. You let him take control of your mouth, of your oxygen.
“Need you,” he moaned, mouthing over your pulse point.
“Then take me. Whatever you need.”
You gasped as he ripped down your bottoms. He stole the small tube from your back pocket on their way down and readied you for him with his fingers. You were his. He ensured it by stroking and forcing muffled sounds out of you. All the while he kept you quiet by swallowing those sounds with bruising kisses. Your fingers gripped at his shirt desperately.
The first high made your knees buckle. He caught you, but he wasn’t finished with you yet.
Elias flipped you towards the wall and used your flexibility to bend you nearly in half. If you wanted to touch him, your only option was going to be gripping his ankles. You heard the sound of his belt, of silvery plastic ripping, then Elias’s panting as he rolled the condom down his length. A loud sigh escaped you before you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. Elias bit his own lip for a moment once he was inside you.
“If I were to ask… ask that you not cum until I say-“
“I won’t. Not until you say.” You widened your stance, steadying yourself. “Not until you say, Elias. Please.” You contracted around his length, letting him know you were ready when he was.
But he didn’t move, not at first. He seemed to be satisfied with just the feel of you. Your heated skin under his large hand as it slid up and down your spine. Your alert nerves vibrating under his touch. How you contracted when he gripped at your waist. Then it wasn’t enough. He eased out of you, groaning with the drag. The wall was cold on your shoulder blades and had to be against his palm as he did his best not to tumble over you. Soon, slow movements weren’t enough.
He quickly pulled you back on his length as he took a step back. You were brought back up to standing, then forced back to the wall. Elias spread his hand wide over your stomach under your shirt as his hips pistoned. You raked at the wall, failing to find anything that could help you maintain sanity.
Elias froze, making you whine.
“I won’t cum. I promised,” you begged.
He chuckled, then moved just as slowly as before. You heard him sigh. His lips pressed into the back of your neck. “Such a good student. Having learned me. Obeying me.” He gave you a hard thrust, making your breath stuttering. “Does the student deserve a reward?”
You licked your lips. “Only if the teacher wishes to give it.”
That must have been a good answer because Elias built back up to the faster pace. You tasted blood as the control you had on your bottom lip reached critical.
“Let me hear you,” Elias pleaded. So you let him. Every sigh. Every pant. Each tiny shout as he found that perfect place inside you. Your whimper as you reached back for him. He repaid you with his own music and his hand that came to rest over yours on the wall. Entwined.
Sparks were starting to flicker behind your eyes. But you had promised. You channeled your need for release into meeting his thrusts. Then he said those words.
“Cum for me.”
So you did.
Elias grunted as you trailed red welts into his lower back as you came. Your arm slipped from reaching back for him and fell lax at your side. Your head lolled back to his shoulder, opening up the other side of your neck to his teeth. You spilled everywhere, then more as Elias followed you.
Your legs were quaking while you struggled to pull your pants back up. Elias had to lean on the wall beside you to get his up. You twisted and fell into his chest. Your hands trailed down his chest to his belt to lace it.
He didn’t look relaxed. If anything, he looked even further upset.
“Hey,” you rested your head on his shoulder. “If I have a plan, will you hear it?” He made a non-committal noise, but that was enough. “Whether Seth gets it back at Extreme Rules or if Dolph retains, you can fight for it again. I will be there with you every step of the way. Seth is alone, so it will be all the easier. I’ve been wanting to face Drew, so I’ve got your back there. And I know you can handle Dolph. You won’t fall for his tricks like Seth did.” You laughed. “Then we pull a Shawn-Hunter and switch sometime.”
His chest rippled with a quiet chuckle.
You tilted his face towards yours. “We make ourselves. And in my eyes, you are champion material.” You trailed your finger down his nose, then stared up into his eyes. He thumbed over your bruised lip.
“I like that plan.”
“Good.”
Elias smiled. Bright and normal. “It seems the student has surpassed the teacher.”
You pouted. “Not necessarily. I’m sure there’s still a lesson to be… bettered where it concerns me being able to hold off.” You stepped back. “Can we go study?”
Of everything you had learned, that night was your favorite lesson.
Prompt: “I love your Elias stuff!! I don’t ever see much written about him. Could you write about how he has feelings for a female superstar on the roster but acts like a jerk to hide it away? One cute encounter leads to a sexy night. BTW you’re so talented!!” [Thanks, hun!]
Pairing: Elias x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: bad flirting (don’t do this), some language, SMUT
Word Count: 1810
Note: WWE Week continues with this crack-turned-smutty fic. Thank you for this request. I was looking for help with bad flirting stories and found a tip list that made my day and really made this fic. I hope you all like it. If you do please let me know, and if you have ideas of your own my requests are still open. Same goes for my tag lists. (WWE, 205 Live, individual wrestlers as listed on the masterlist, and other fandoms.) Enjoy!
It was weird, even for him. Elias had never been super talkative, though he didn’t shirk from your company either. Now he couldn’t seem to decide which one he wanted to flip on its head first. Some days he would stumble and say anything in his head to you. On others, he would leave the room when you entered. It was starting to make your head spin.
Then things got weirder. On the days he didn’t disappear, he would stare at you intently. He’d catch your eye then never let his gaze drop. His face would remain just as placid as if looking at the horizon, and he blinked. You changed up how you blinked to make sure he did.
“Elias, are you okay?” you finally asked him. “You’ve been acting differently lately.”
He bobbed his head. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“Huh?” Had you been acting differently? There was that one thing… but-
“I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it for the longest time. But now I know your secret.”
Your heart stopped. How? You leaned in close to him, attempting to keep anything he said next just between the two of you. “You do?”
He hummed. “And the more I learn about you… well.” He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head.
“Elias, how the… never mind.” You dropped your voice to a hoarse whisper. “If you really want to spoil it, please do it to the right people. Or if you are my friend, keep it under wraps. Please.” You shoved away from the table and left. In your haste to get away, you missed seeing him panic.
Every time you saw him after that he would wink at you. Excessively. Like he needed eye drops. When you got some for him from the medics, he threw the bottle against the wall and stomped off. He didn’t wink at you anymore. From there, he avoided looking at you at all.
You didn’t realize you’d pissed him off so much until he bumped into you. It could have been the unfortunate combination of his broad shoulders and the narrowness of the hallways. That’s what you thought. But then he weaved into your path just to bump you. And they were too frequent to be chance. It was like he was looking for you just to bump into you. He only stopped when you flattened against a wall when he came into view.
You groaned out loud when he strummed his way into one of your backstage promos. It took everything you had not to sassily ask him if he was talking to you now.
“You don’t have to glare at me like that, Dove. I just wanted to congratulate you on becoming number one contender.”
Dove? Since when did he call you Dove? It wasn’t… terrible. Just unexpected.
“Y/N?” He was looking at you like you hadn’t said anything back. Crap.
“Uh. Thank you. Yeah. Thanks.” Thankfully Charlie had other questions for you and Elias took his cue to leave. You were still confused as hell.
No more.
You couldn’t take any more of this. The weird changes in attention. Him holding your secret. How had he even found out about that? Did he hate you? What had you done to deserve that? But he had a name for you. Dove. If he hated you, he wouldn’t have given you a pet name, right?
“Elias, we need to talk.” Your knees were knocking together, but the guys sitting with him cleared out quick. Things were about to go down and they didn’t want to be in the crossfire.
“Oh?” He looked terrified. The placidity of several encounters ago had cracked.
“What the hell is wrong with you? First, you won’t shut up, then you shut me out. Crash into me. Threaten to reveal how I’m changing my gimmick-“
“You’re doing what?”
“I’m… I’m changing my gimmick. You- you said you knew my secret. I haven’t worked all the kinks out yet so I haven’t told anyone. How did you find out?”
He fell back in his chair. “I didn’t. I… it said to act vague.”
What? Was? He? Talking? About? “What said to act vague?” When he stuttered around, you sighed. “Elias, sweetie. I love you, but you’re not making any sense.”
“Wait. Do you-“
“Yes. I love you, you big jerk. If I was coming on too strong, I’m sorry. But you didn’t have to do all this. Whatever the hell ‘all this’ was. Why are you laughing? Elias!”
He wasn’t making any sound. But his shoulders were shaking. Every once and a while he would pause and take a deep breath.
“Dammit, Elias, if you don’t tell me what’s going on- what’s this?” You started to read the scrap of paper he shoved into your hands. “How to tell your crush… that you love them! In ten steps.”
Elias wiped the edges of his eyes and got his breathing under control. “There were supposed to be ten steps. But I spilled some tea on the paper before I could read them. Even then, they were confusing. Dolph was helping…”
“Dolph! Oh, honey…” you started laughing now too, “that was your first mistake. Dolph is the last man on earth you should be getting tips from.” Your legs gave out and you ended up in his lap as laughter wracked your body. Then you froze. “Dove?”
Elias swallowed, suddenly embarrassed. “I call you Dove because… well. Are you aware that you sing when you win a match?” He looked over your head with a smile. “When you won against Alexa… you stood and crowed at the sky. It… it was the most beautiful sound. Pride and accomplishment, and… just pure. Joy.”
Damn this man.
“You know, if you had started with that, you could have skipped all of this.” He was about to agree with you, but you shut him up with a long overdue kiss.
That night when you tumbled into the same hotel bed, you couldn’t keep your hands off one another.
“Y/N-“
“Dove. Please.” You bit your lip and avoided his gaze until he tilted your head up. “I like it.”
If the man could have smiled any wider he would have been the sun. “Okay. Dove. Do you really want to do this? I feel like we’re both… hyped up. I don’t want to move to fast for you. Do you want dates first or-“
“Elias Samson. What do you call all those times when we ate alone in catering? The chats long into the night after a show or during the week from opposite sides of the nation. We’ve had enough of those. If you want me,” you ran your hands up under his shirt over his heated skin, “I’m right here. Wanting you. Ready for you.” He helped you help his shirt over his head. Damn, the man was built. He made the same awed noise as your clothes landed on the floor too.
His lips latched onto the hollow of your throat has his large, warm hands massaged up your spine. You melted into his touch, going limp in his arms. His buckle was a hassle in your haste. Elias leaned back so he could wriggle out of his jeans. You stood and dropped the rest of your clothes before straddling his hips again and devouring his lips. He fell back to lay on the sheets and held you on his chest as he moved further up the bed. You could feel his length as it bobbed into your stomach. It made you grip his biceps tighter and pant harder. His fingers dipped to your sex and you whined.
“Mhhm,” he hummed, breaking away for a breath. “Already so wet? When did that happen?”
You chuckled and nipped at his collarbone. “The first time I saw you. Give or take a song.”
“I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”
“You are forgiven,” you rushed. “Please, Elias-“
Bucking your hips to match, you shivered as Elias’s fingers curled and pumped into you. He tugged on your nipple with his teeth. He was just getting started, and already you were a needy mess. Each time you made a new sound, Elias would keep toying with the cause. By the time he felt he had learned you enough for now, your vision was lidded and your voice was hoarse.
Elias guided you onto his cock. You dug your nails into his chest as he held you down on the base, muttering and cursing. His legs braced up behind you, making you lean forward. The first slow stroke could only be described as beautiful. He filled you so perfectly, sounded so good growling deep in his throat, gripping your thighs with control and guidance. You continued moaning as he sped up. The air filled with the slap of his body against yours. Beneath you, his eyes bored watch every shift in your face.
Then he began to use what he learned earlier. Your walls contracted as he again latched his lips around your breast. His thumb rubbed over the spot on your hip that made your matching thrusts stutter. He pulled you down to lap over the hollow of your throat, distracting you from his hand slowly approaching your clit. You shuddered as he pressed down. His thrusts were faster, harder, now. His thumb didn’t move, just alerted you to its presence.
“What do you need, Dove? No lists, no bad help. You tell me. What do you need, Y/N?”
“You. More. Elias. More.”
He understood. He pushed you to lean slightly back, ensuring his thrusts reached deeper into you. His thumb began to search for the rhythm that made your thighs tremble and unsteady. You cried out his name as he found it. He watched you come, enraptured.
“Stunning.”
You looked down just in time to see his eyes close. His pace stuttered. You picked it up, slamming down as he came with a guttural shout. His release gave you a second mini one. You clawed down his chest, then fell forward.
Heaving together, you both tried to catch your breath. You rose each time he took a breath.
Elias stroked your hair. “So, you love me?”
You smiled against his skin. “Yes.” You whined as he slipped out of you and left the bed. The warm cloth his used to clean you up with was relaxing though. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? I could have told you that so much sooner.”
He crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over you. “I don’t know. I’m an idiot, I guess.”
You curled into his chest with a yawn. “It worked out in the end though. Despite getting lost in translation.”
Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Erik Killmonger, Kevin Ford, Loki, Steve Rogers, and Ulysses Klaue
Supernatural: Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Lucifer
WWE: 205 Live, Baron Corbin, Buddy Murphy, Cesaro, Elias Samson, Finn Balor, Jack Gallagher, Mojo Rawley, Neville, Noam Dar, Roman Reigns, Sami Zayn, Samoa Joe, Sheamus, Tommaso Ciampa, and either Uso.
I can write more characters as they are requested (like I have for Elliot Spencer, Eggsy Unwin, Sherlock, Tim McGee, and Tony DiNozzo).
Please let me know at any time if you would like to be added to a tag list. (By request or personal message.) And you can request a fic about anyone on this too! You don’t have to be shy. My only uncrossable lines are underage readers (18+ only) underaged characters, ships, or cheating. I try to write for you guys as much as I write for me.
Prompt: “May I request for a smutty imagine/drabble (whatever you like better) with a jealous Cesaro who shows Y/N that he is better than Sheamus? 🙂 I really like your writing, every single piece of it <3” [Thanks hun!]
Paring: Cesaro x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: car SMUT, dirty talk, possessive smut
Word Count: 630
Note: It’s WWE week! I’ve got so many requests so I’m going to try to get them all out this week, though a fe might have to wait until the next Friday. This was fun to write. Thanks, love, for the request! I hope you all enjoy it. Got an idea of your own? Let me know! My requests and tag lists are open. Enjoy!
It could have been several things. Maybe you laughed at Sheamus’s jokes more than Cesaro’s. You tended to agree more with Sheamus. Your hands lingered either way, but perhaps from one angle, they seemed to prefer Sheamus. Maybe you recognized the wrong steps. No matter what it was, all of the tiny ticks that leaned towards Sheamus had lead you to your current situation.
Cesaro’s eyes were flashing and dark, and the car’s metal was cool against your skin.
“If you have made a different choice, I will leave. No questions asked, no hurt feelings, nothing but resignation. Is he who you want?”
He flinched under your touch as you cupped his face. “But I have already chosen.” You smiled, even though he avoided eye contact. “I have chosen you.”
“Wha- but all the-“
“I laugh at Sheamus’s jokes because if I laughed at every one of yours I would constantly be in stitches. I agree with Sheamus because I love to debate with you; I learn more about you that way. My hands linger because no matter how much I compare your physicality, I love the way my fingers curve over your muscles more. And you two are usually together, so if I say the wrong name for the footsteps I hear, it is because you are nearly inseparable.” You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket to nuzzle your noses together. “But I can try harder. I can learn your step. Your touch. Your desires. Please.”
Cesaro closed the distance and answered your plea with a kiss. “I desire you.”
His warm hands reached up under your shirt, exposing more of your flushed skin to the cool metal. You shivered. Cesaro chuckled into your neck and pulled you to one side so he could open the door to the back seat. You climbed in as best as you could, squealing when Cesaro slapped your ass. Once he was in and the door was shut, you climbed into his lap. His breath hitched in his throat as you rolled your hips. His body reacted and his hardness grew beneath you.
“That’s it, Liebling, show me you desire me too.” He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. Needy, but still in control. He helped you out of your shirt and bra then sucked one nipple into his mouth. Humming around it, he kept your hips moving. “Look at you, rocking in my lap. Needing me. My Frau der Begierde.” Cesaro pushed up the back of your skirt and palmed over the globe of your ass.
He stopped your movement only long enough to push his slacks and pants down. You gasped as he ripped your panties from your body. His fingers ran through your slick, making you buck down on his hand.
“Cesaro, please…”
“Oh, I will. I’m going to fuck you so hard, all you can think is my name so you can scream it.”
You gasped out a cry as he thrust into you. He held you down on while you adjusted, and your body quaked. You leaned your forehead to his to steady your breathing, but it never got there. Cesaro stole your oxygen away with a kiss that also muffled your screams of pleasure. He pulled you down by your hips, surely bruising them above your ring gear line. You clawed at his shoulders as your thighs clamped around his hips. You did scream his name, and it made him slam your hips down one more time so he could finish too. His breath stuttered as you desperately rotated your hips to feel the last shocks of pleasure.
“My beautiful liebling,” Cesaro murmured into your skin. He nipped across your neck and shoulder while rubbing your back. “My Y/N.”
Prompt: “Hi! I was thinking about requesting something different this time around. How about a fic with the wrestler Buddy Murphy but he has a serious crush on the reader (a new wrestler) who is either oblivious/not interested but he does something that makes the reader start to like him more. Could be any gender reader and probably fluff, also the reader is in the 205 live division.
Pairing: Buddy Murphy x 205Live!Reader, TransMan!Reader
Warnings/Promises: FLUFFY AF, mutual pining and mutual impressed feelings, wrestling violence, mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 1390
Note: My first Buddy Murphy fic! I hope you guys like it, and if you have a second let me know how I did. This was such a fun request, so thank you nonny. If you have one of your own, my requests are open (if you have a lot of detail my messages are open too.) Tag lists for WWE, 205, Buddy Murphey, and everything else I write for is open too. Enjoy!
“Who’s getting your plus one ticket to Extreme Rules?” Buddy Murphy leaned on a crate. “I can never seem to use mine because everyone I know is already involved.” Tony Nese nodded in agreement. You, on the other hand, sheepishly rubbed at your elbow.
“Ah… nobody. Unless something happens in the next few days. Which is unlikely.” You dropped your voice to talk mostly to yourself. “There hasn’t been anybody since before… my… and it ended badly.” You looked down the hall as the stage manager called for you. “Well, see you guys out there.”
They watched you go. Tony turned to leave but saw Buddy still looking after you.
“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”
“Have what?” His Adam’s apple bobbed under Tony’s scrutiny. “I do not.”
“Right. You might want to tell him before he finds someone for that seat.” Tony left chuckling to himself. Buddy kept looking after you until you turned around a corner.
“Yeah. I should probably say something.
***
Akira Tozawa nearly tackled you upon leaving Gorilla. You’d beaten him, though he didn’t make it easy by any means. He always liked to slap you on the back no matter how your matches ended, just to “get in a few good last hits.”
“I’ll get you next week,” he said with a smile.
You laughed. “You always say that then never do.” You gave his shoulder a shove, unsteadying him.
“Nuh-uh. I got you two weeks ago.” He started to describe each and every move, with a few extras thrown in. You tossed your head back to laugh when he lightly tapped your chest with the back of his hand. “He’s looking at you again.”
“What?” You followed Akira’s nod to see Buddy watching you from the corner of his eyes. The man could not be inconspicuous if he tried. “And?”
“That look is the special look.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Either he wants to challenge me, or he wants to invite me out for beers. Neither of which he has said yet.” You stopped walking before either of you could get to close. “So what? He’s got a chance to take it to Cedric. He’s not going to throw that away to do anything with me.”
Akira shook his head. “Okay,” he sang. “But you’re missin’ out on somethin’. And you know it. You’re both new here, so why don’t you challenge him? Or invite him out for beers? I can be your wingman!” He looked more excited for possible free beer than anything else.
“Hmm. I’ll think about it.” You punched him in the shoulder as he walked away, mumbling something about missed opportunities. “I’ll think about it.”
***
“Hey, Y/N.”
You paused in taping up your wrists. Buddy trotted up, stopping a few feet from you. “Hey. What can I do for you?”
He scratched his palm and let out a tiny puff of air like he had been holding it for a while. “I was wondering if… if you’d like to have a match?” He swallowed hard as your eyebrows shot up. “We’ve both fought everybody else in 205 but haven’t had a chance to personally see what the other’s got. Are… would you be interested?”
You bit your lip and let it slide slowly from between your teeth. “Sure. Why not?” You smirked. “Think you can keep up? Your match last week was intense. I was exhausted just watching.”
“Thanks.” If you didn’t know better, you would have said he blushed. “I’ll tell Maverick. This week or next week?”
“This week. Akira’s got something with Noam. So, I’m open for anything.”
“Great,” he said brightly. “Loser buys the beers?” You chuckled and played with your tape with a nod. He coughed and lowered his voice. “Great. I’ll see you out there, then.” He gave you a curt nod and turned on his heel. You took a deep breath, then finished wrapping your wrists.
***
Buddy slid into the ring under the bottom ropes. It was impressive as hell, you had to admit. The bell rang and you both circled around, looking for an opening.
You stepped first, catching him in a headlock. He shoved you off into the ropes. The spring of them sent you flying into his chest before you found yourself on the canvas. You stared up at him, impressed with what you had run into. Buddy dusted off his pecs with a grin. You were up quick, catching him in another headlock that he escaped as easily as the first. He jumped over your attempt to clothesline him, squaring off.
He attacked next with a few attempted clotheslines of his own. You jumped up using the middle rope to lock your ankles around his neck. He sailed across the ring and landed with a bounce. He rolled out of the ring and looked up at you. His cheek twitched with a grin. You wiggled your fingers at him while leaning on the ropes. It was obvious that you were going to turn and bounce off the far ropes so you could flip and land on him. He could have moved. Instead, Buddy caught you and landed hard on the mat.
He was making you look good.
You were more than willing to return the favor.
As many times as he stepped into a position where you could flip or hit him, you stayed put for that split extra second for him. At one point you were both circling again, like sharks made up of all muscles and harsh, bright smiles. You were going to be incredibly bruised tomorrow, but that didn’t matter.
Buddy fell out of the ring from a kick but rolled right back in. You ran at him, and at the last second twisted for a spinning elbow. He dropped to the mat in front of the corner, which you rapidly climbed. Your frog-splash was successful. While the ref raised your hand in victory, he scooted back to sit on the bottom turnbuckle. Waiting.
The crowd hushed as he came to stand toe to toe with you.
You bowed your head to hide a smile as he held out his hand. You made sure to make the handshake as strong as you could without showing how nervous you were. He left the arena with his arm thrown over your shoulder while the announcers made comments about a dangerous partnership.
***
“Who all is going out for drinks?” you asked the locker room. “Murphy’s buying.” You looked over at him with a smile he mirrored.
“Can’t.” Cedric finished putting on his shirt. “I’ve got media in the morning.”
Buddy tossed Cedric his roll of tape. “Come on. Just one drink.”
“When is it ever just one with you guys?” He nodded at everyone in the room. They all groaned in agreement.
You looked at Akira. He shook his head. “I’m out.”
“What about being my wingman?” you whispered.
He just winked at you. “Goodnight!” The guys replied and sent him on his way. Soon everybody had claimed something else to do, or exhaustion, until it was just going to be you and Buddy. A few minutes later it was just the two of you in the locker room too.
“Welp, it looks like your tab is going to be much cheaper,” you joked. “You lucked out.”
“Yeah.” He fiddled with a towel before dropping it in his bag. “Not to back out of our deal, but would you rather raid both of your hotel mini fridges?” He laughed with you when you pointed out that might be the more expensive choice. “Probably, unless you want to put up with the sticky seats and the deafening music.”
“Hell no, That’s what Spotify is for.” You picked up your stuff and fished out your keys. “When we get to the hotel, I’m emptying out my fridge then I’m showing up at your door. Deal?”
“Deal.” He didn’t move. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out? I don’t want to cost you a chance to find your plus one.”
You smiled and wrapped your arm around his shoulder. “Like you said, the person I want to ask is already involved.”
His face lit up and he accepted your forehead bump. “Now let’s get out of here. I owe you several drinks for that beating you gave me tonight.”
On Sunday it is time for Extreme Rules. Tables are busted, titles change hands, and the momentum carries into Monday night where new and unlikely alliances are made.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence
Word Count: 5190
Note: Per usual, a longer chapter due to the PPV. Had to change something at the last minute because I forgot Ruby was out on injury, but the fix should work just fine. Let me know what you think of the new pairing that’s in this week’s chapter, and/or how you think it’s going to go. As always, tag lists and requests are open. I have several for WWE in the works and they should be out soon. Enjoy!
Neither Sasha or Bayley came to the announce table for the pre-show. They both kept to opposite sides of the arena, or as much as they could backstage. Thankfully you didn’t have to bother with either, and Renee was handling the questions.
Bayley rolled her eyes at Renee’s suggestion that the match would be more than she could handle. “I don’t know why everybody keeps saying that. When we were in the Four Horsewomen, I handled plenty. What’s been holding me back all this time since then is my friendship with Sasha. The power of a fighting heart with mercy. And my effort to show the WWE Universe that you don’t have to be cruel and backstabbing to get to the top.”
“Do you feel like tonight’s match goes against the principles you have built up during your career?”
“No,” she answered immediately. “My principles are still under my control and this match, no matter the outcome, will change that. At the end of this, I will still be the hard worker and dedicated wrestler I entered the ring as. But Sasha? She’s going to leave having finally realized that everybody can see through her lies to who she really is: a woman terrified of being left in the dust. Every match, Sasha gives her heart and soul for a victory. Tonight, it’s not going to be enough.”
“Thank you, Bayley. And we go to Sasha to hear her thoughts about tonight’s match. Sasha?” Renee waited until she was on-screen. “Bayley had some strong opinions about you. Are any of them true?”
Sasha scoffed. “No. I’m terrified. I’m not a backstabber. I am see-through though, I guess. I’ve never lied about who I am or what I was after. Bayley? She’s a little girl in a woman’s world. All she’s dedicated to is keeping her fans smiling and hugging each other while she’s lost sight of the main goal. Ha, mercy. Mercy has no place in the world we fight in. Tomorrow night I’m taking the next step towards the goal of winning the Raw Women’s Championship. And where will Bayley be? Oh yeah, sitting in the back watching me win my opportunity she squandered.”
“But what about tonight? Is tonight’s extreme rules match a deviation from your plan?’
“Not at all. If anything, it fits in perfectly.” Sasha smiled, sticky sweet. “Tonight is going to show Ember Moon just how far I will go to win and what she has to look forward to since she crossed me. And it will show the same to Nia as I come to take away her crown. And once I’m Raw Women’s Champion? The Raw Women’s roster is going to have a new, real, boss in charge.” She did her pose just before the attention blipped back to the announce table.
Everybody leaned back in their chairs and let out the breaths they had been holding.
Otunga spoke up first. “Let me be the first one to say, this match is going to be intense. Both of these women have something to prove, and they are not leaving the ring until they do so.”
There was an agreement that what was to come would blow the roof off the arena, but there was dissidence in who was going to come out on top. Per usual, the predictions came out about even towards both Sasha and Bayley.
Renee shook her head. “I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see. Though you all made great points! As the clock ticks down to the official start of Extreme Rules, it is now time for the match between the Authors of Pain and the Deleters of Worlds, Matt Hardy and Bray Wyatt.” She directed to Corey, Cole, and Coachman on the announce table so they could call the match.
Akam and Rezar entered first. They stood back to back in the ring as Hardy’s music started. If the Deleters of Words were going to teleport into the ring, they were going to be ready.
It was unnecessary since Hardy and Bray entered from the stage. They circled the Authors of Pain who refused to move from their position. Bray blew out the flame in his lantern and the lights came up, revealing him in one corner and Hardy diagonal from him with their opponents in the middle. Jojo looked at the ref, questioning whether she should start with things so tense. Hardy and Bray took a step towards their corner. Akam and Rezar took a step toward theirs. This continued until both teams were where they supposed to be.
Jojo breathed a sigh of relief. “The following match is a championship match for the Raw Tag Team Titles. The competitors: the Authors of Pain!” They roared to the crowd while keeping their eyes on the other corner. “And the defending champions: Matt Hardy and Bray Wyatt!” Bray kneeled in front of Hardy with his arms outstretched while Hardy laughed above him. Jojo made her exit quick before the bell rang.
For all of their potential, the Authors of Pain did not yet have the skill. Hardy and Bray’s mind games skill far exceeded their own. Their egos were toyed with, like two alley cats circled by vultures. It wasn’t a quick match by any means. The newcomers held their own as long as they could. What caused their downfall was not watching the other’s back, weakening them one sneak attack at a time until there was nothing left. By the time the realized what was happening, and tried a similar tactic, the match was over.
The Authors of Pain had just enough strength to roll out of the ring. They glared with disdain at their champions.
***
It was one hell of a way to start Extreme Rules.
They were on each other like lionesses. The ref couldn’t do much besides keeping out of the way. If one woman crashed exceptionally hard, he checked for blood and asked them if they could continue. They always said yes. If anyone had asked him later what scared him the most, it wasn’t the kendo sticks, chairs, or the broken announce table. It was the claws. Everything was legal, including ignoring punching for swiping their manicured nails across each other’s faces and backs.
For the most part, Sasha had the upper hand. Like she planned. Throughout the match, she taunted Bayley. “Give up!” she would scream. “You will never be better than me.” Punch. Kick. “Everybody will forget about you.” Sasha slammed her head to the mat using her hair. She was about to maneuver for a Bank Statement when Bayley made her move.
Bayley was a hugger. She used her Bayley to Bellies. She was sure of herself. She bounced off the rope and jumped into unknown airspace. Bayley was dedicated; even when her lungs burned and her chest heaved, she kept moving.
Both were running out of steam as the match took its toll. Their bodies were riddled with bruises and red welts. Sasha stumbled into the ropes on one side, while Bayley leaned on the ropes across from her. They stared at each other. Sasha’s eyes were full of malice. Bayley’s with determination. With a split second of recognition, both scurried to opposite corners and leaped. Their bodies collided in mid-air, tumbling and thrashing long before they hit the canvas. Bayley was the first to recover. She didn’t go immediately for a pin. Instead, she sat on Sasha’s stomach and punched at her head and torso until Sasha stopped fighting back.
The ref counted to three.
He raised Bayley’s arm in victory, though she wasn’t smiling. But she was proud. She surveyed the carnage around the ring and shook her head. Before she left, she stood next to where Sasha was lying.
“Everyone will remember this match. And how I beat you. Good luck with your match tomorrow.”
Bayley walked away without looking back while Sasha stared daggers into her shoulder blades.
***
Depending on who was looking, Jinder was a smart man. Although Kurt Angle had banned Sunil from ringside at the last minute, Jinder had a plan. Which included rolling out of the ring as soon as the bell rang. It left the bitter rivals together to completely demolish one another while he preserved his energy.
What he didn’t anticipate was both Braun Strowman and Roman Reigns rolling out after him. They blocked any entrance that wasn’t into the ring. Roman moved the fastest, so he was in the ring sooner and made sure the Maharaja didn’t escape towards the ramp while Braun kept him from moving back to the floor. Past that, any alliance or temporary teamwork fell apart.
Roman would superman punch one only to get caught in a choke hold from the other. Braun would choke slam one, then get taken out at the knees. Jinder would chop the chest of either and found that it was not as useful in the ring at Extreme Rules. So, a flurry of punches would have to suffice.
Braun tossed Roman over the ropes to the floor then turned his attention to Jinder. Jinder was tired of running away. He ran toward the monster and was able to knock him off his feet. In all honesty, he didn’t want to face Brock at Summer Slam or anywhere. To him, it was one less giant to fight. He had his pride to defend, and while a championship would be great, it was not necessary to his life. ON the other hand, Braun and Roman had insulted his abilities enough. Jinder channeled his frustration into his fists. Every attack backstage, each time he came up short on the mic, the times when his plans had crumbled in his hands. Maybe if he had been thinking about how he’d been wronged less, he would have seen Roman coming. Jinder gave a shout as Roman yanked him to his feet and threw him out of the ring.
The Monster Among Men stumbled to his feet to catch a spear. Roman fell against his chest for the pin, but Braun rolled to his side with exhausted ease. Neither moved while they thought about what to do next. Braun hauled himself to his feet and snatched Roman out of the air. But his speed was weakened, so Roman was able to contort around his boy and bring him down for a roll up.
Jinder made it back into the ring and dropped his fists onto Roman’s spine, making him let go and arch. He curled up and did his best to protect his face and chest as Jinder continued with a kicking offense. He didn’t notice Braun had joined until there was a shout and once again the Maharaja was out of the way. Braun lugged Roman over his shoulder and slammed him down. Then again. And once more.
Roman’s vision was blurry. He couldn’t tell the difference between the ref’s second and third count, nor could he hear it until it was too late. He growled and rolled onto his stomach as Braun roared as the number one contender for the Universal.
Once more.
***
Kevin was nervous. That was an understatement, but he couldn’t find any other way to phrase it. He jumped as Dean’s guitar riff sounded, soon followed by the bell. Dean didn’t stop running, so Kevin rolled out towards the announce tables.
Dean paced inside. Jumped on his toes. If Kevin thought all this movement was going to tire him out before they could even get started, he was going to be sorely mistaken. And sore. All over. He backed into one corner and smoothed down the tape on his hands while Kevin inched into the ring. He stayed there when Kevin stood in the center and motioned him toward the middle.
“You wanted this match, Owens,” Dean said with a smirk. “You want the fight? Bring it here.” Dean hopped up to sit on the top turnbuckle and smiled. “Any day now.”
When Kevin did finally bring the fight, he did a good job of reminding Dean how long it had been since he’d had a good fight. He was surprisingly on the defense. Kevin had his recovery moves scouted, rendering them nearly useless. While he was shaking the ringing out of his ears after one attack, he missed Kevin disappearing. It was the crowd’s excitement that saved him from taking a steel chair to the back. Then he had Kevin on the run.
Owens didn’t notice Dean changed directions of the chase until he was in front of him. He collapsed under the chair attack. Groaning, he was rolling into the ring for a pin that failed. Dean growled and moved back out to hunt for anything under the ring.
Dean tilted his head to listen to the crowd. “We want tables!” they chanted. Dean turned his attention back to Kevin in the ring and grinned wickedly. He pulled out several and set them up around the ring.
Just in case.
With the last, he tugged it into the ring. It made a lovely addition to one corner. The legs that he pulled out made it sturdy as proven by the shadowboxing he did to an invisible Kevin pinned against it. He should have been worried about the real Kevin behind him. He was punched in the kidneys, then shoved to sit down in front of his own table.
Kevin cannonball rolled into Dean. As he stood he noticed the dent in the wood from Dean’s skull. If it worked once…. Kevin ran to roll again, but Dean moved at the last second. He crashed through. Faintly he recognized that he was being moved, kicking out when Dean tried to pin him.
“No. No!” Kevin crawled away, confusing Dean. “We’re done. Welcome back, Dean. Have a good night.” He tried to step through the ropes. He froze as he heard cheering and sighed. Turning to look back, Dean had bounced off the far ropes and was rapidly approaching faster than he could evade. He went flying and through one of the tables Dean had set up. Dean smiled and leaned on the ropes, tapping the side of his head.
How he hated that man.
Dean won the match. The Battle. The War. And he basked in the full welcome from everyone sitting in attendance.
***
Elias strummed. “I know you all came here to hear what you need.” He was forced to pause as the crowd cheered deafeningly. “But I know Seth is just going to interrupt; he’s so anxious to lose that title tonight. So I’ll have to be brief.” He took a deep breath and strummed again, playing a melody that hushed the audience for a few minutes. He glanced hesitantly towards the stage. “Seth Rollins is a fighter. A man with a plan. But he is no champion.” Elias smiled. “All those open challenges were just playing to the sorry lot of you and mean absolutely nothing. A real champion waits for the challenges to come to him. Let the rabble fight amongst themselves just for a chance to even look at it and laugh at them from the sidelines.”
Seth’s theme cut off anything Elias was going to say. He swung the Intercontinental Championship on the stage, then slung it over his shoulder before making his way down the ramp. Outside of the ring, he picked up a mic.
“No, no, no, no, no.” Seth shook his head and finished entering the ring. “If you keep talking like that, you’re gonna sound like a very specific person that nobody here likes.” He beamed as the crowd agreed with him, then brighter as he even got a nod from Elias. “Now, are you done talking? ‘Cause not everybody like the sound of your voice as much as you do.” When Elias didn’t move, he shoved him off the stool and kicked it out of the ring. They stood face to face, once Elias had made it back to his feet, and a ref and Jojo hurried into the ring.
Jojo did her thing, then the bell rang.
There was a reason why this was an extreme rules match.
Both men wanted to decimate the other. In a display that made everyone watching ooh, ahh, and cringe at a pain most could never understand, Seth defended his title. And Elias took as much out of him as he could. Chests were slapped until they were bright red and hands couldn’t feel. Chairs were broken over backs. And more announce tables collapsed under the assault.
Seth was doing well. So was Elias, but it was looking like Seth was going to retain. When Elias swung his guitar, Seth kicked him in the stomach. The guitar fell to the canvas, with Elias leaning heavily over it. Seth looked at Elias. Then the guitar. Then the crowd, who cheered him on to do what they hoped he would. He smiled and ran to bounce off the rope.
Finn Balor’s music interrupted.
Seth knew he should follow through. Elias had completely fallen over the instrument and was unmoving. Despite his screaming gut, the biggest threat was running down the ramp carrying a gold briefcase. He’d been on the giving end of such an exchange, and he wasn’t about to be on the receiving end. So he readied himself for Finn’s attack at the ropes.
Finn trotted to a stop. He stared up at Seth, looking for an entrance. He walked around the ring, occasionally bobbing and backtracking to keep Seth on edge. When he had made it back around to stage-side, he stopped and held the case above his head.
“Tempting. But I’m saving this for something even better.” Finn waved past Seth.
The Kingslayer turned just in time to catch Elias’s clothesline that sent him over the ropes. He fell at Finn’s feet, who laughed and hurried away in mock guilt.
Elias wasted no time dragging Seth back into the ring. With the distraction having thrown off the earlier rhythm, Seth was soon on Elias’s shoulders. He carried him over a few feet. Seth realized why when his back broke through wood and strings.
The shattered mass was shoved away, and the ref counted to three.
Elias grabbed the belt and held it high while standing over Seth, who hadn’t moved more than to roll onto his stomach. Already there were bright purple welts, and Elias was smiling ear to ear.
***
Monday Night Raw – July 16, 2018 – Buffalo, NY
The night began with an announcement from Kurt Angle. His brow was tense and his demeanor was heavy. The closer he trudged to the ring, the weaker his chants became. By the time he had stepped through the ropes, the crowd was silent. He took a breath.
“There’s no use sugar-coating it. Brock Lesnar will not be attending Summer Slam. The Result of last night’s number one contender’s match is null.” He sighed. Massaging the bridge of his nose, Kurt worked up enough energy to continue. “Lesnar claims that he does not have to fight Braun for the Universal because it had already been done. And as he points out, correctly, Lesnar retained against Braun Strowman.” He was stopped from saying more for a moment by the sounds of disapproval. “my hands are tied… for the moment. I will continue to do what I can, but as of right now, until there is a ‘better’ opponent for Lesnar there will be no match for the Universal Title.”
He left. Head bowed. Shoulders weighted. And his blood boiling for the injustice towards the wrestlers working under him.
***
Backstage, there was pandemonium.
Mojo flattened himself against a wall as Braun thundered by. Then he caught Mickie James as she was thrown into him from a hallway. Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan cackled on their way by. Sarah tossed a handful of a techie’s papers into Mojo’s face for good measure.
“Seriously?” He shook his head and steadied Mickie. “What’s their problem?”
“Really?” Mojo twisted around towards where the Riott Squad left, flinching as something crashed. When he turned back around, Mickie was attempting to hide a pout. “And where do you fit into that plan?”
“Well….” She huffed. “Unknown at the moment. But What Alexa wants, Alexa gets. And heaven help us if she doesn’t,” she muttered.
He nodded in agreement. His eyes scrunched as he looked at her more closely. She leaned back as he continued to stare. “If I had a plan for something… different… would you be interested?”
“Different?”
“Something that would bring you back into the main light. No Alexa required. No more… getting passed over in her shadow. Interested, if even just to hear me out?”
Mickie eyed him with disapproval. “Perhaps.” She chuckled as he held out his arm for her to take. She took it and they walked down the hallway.
Mojo nodded to Dolph and Drew as they passed.
***
In an attempt to cheer up the crowd, the first match of the night was Sasha and Ember’s number one contender’s match.
Sasha made no attempt to cover up her injuries from the night before. Her ribcage was bandaged, but her back, shoulders, arms and legs were all covered in variously colored welts of all sizes. And she was pissed. She half-did her entrance, careful around what hurt (everything) and waited impatiently for Ember.
The Goddess of War stayed on her side of the ring after entering. She could tell Sasha was hurt more than physically. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to be on the receiving end of some serious steam blowing.
On the other hand, the toll of Extreme Rules wasn’t just physical. It was emotional too. Ember found herself often pausing, rattled, when Sasha didn’t seem to be paying attention. When Sasha was participating, she was repeating movements from Sunday night like she could change the outcome if she tried harder. She couldn’t use chairs or her nails, but she could hit harder and faster. Ember found holes in her offense though. Her guard would be misplaced on one side. Or Sasha would be going for some dramatic hit that Ember could evade easily because she wasn’t exhausted.
The Eclipse that had helped them win team matches finished off this one. Ember was going to face Nia, and she wanted to do it as soon as possible.
Sasha rolled out of the ring and sat on the floor, holding her head.
“I’m not going to waste time. Nia, I am coming for you. And if you’re smart, you won’t waste time either.” Ember tried to catch her breath. She was almost relieved she didn’t have to when Nia walked out on the stage.
“I’m game,” she said with a smile. “How soon were you thinking?”
“Next week.”
“Deal.”
Ember watched Nia leave, then moved to leave too when Sasha got to her feet. She took the stairs, examining her on her way to the ramp. It was only for a split second, but Sasha leaped when she turned her back. Ember stepped aside, and Sasha crashed into the barricade. Ember walked out with her back to the stage, and her eyes on Sasha.
Everyone froze as Braun’s roar ripped through the air.
***
Roman and Dean laughed. They were sitting on crates in some back hallway, taping their wrists for their match with Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre. In the background, they could hear the carnage.
You came to a skidding stop in front of them. “What is that?”
Dean avoided eye contact with his brother, who was shocked that Dean hadn’t explained more to you. “That’s Braun. It’s more normal than people think. Don’t worry about it.”
“He’ll blow over in a few minutes,” Roman added.
How could they just sit there? “What are you guys doing?” You huffed as they looked confused. “So. You guys have a different match later and that makes Braun not your problem?”
Dean nodded. “Pretty much.”
“But… you…. You guys were the Shield. Defenders against injustice. Braun terrorizing everybody is an injustice.” Your blood began to boil as Roman laughed.
“Things have changed a bit since then. Kurt can handle it.” He started to put on his gauntlets. Dean wasn’t worried about who could get hurt either as he started to do the bit between his fingers.
“If you’re not going to do something about it, I’m going to try.” You stormed off, not caring if they followed you or not.
In the garage, a group of security men was trying to block Braun from a semi-truck. They weren’t touching him, fearing for their arms if they did. He was caring for their protection anyways. If someone got close enough, he grabbed them by their shirt and belt and tossed them out of the way.
One came flying by you and nearly fell on top of an already distressed Kurt Angle. You looked towards the truck and saw that the driver was still inside. Without a second’s hesitation, you ran into the fray, using your smaller frame to get past security and Braun. You jumped up on the step and tugged the door open, allowing the driver to escape. Fuming, you slammed it shut and turned to Braun.
“That’s enough!”
Braun stopped more out of shock than anything else. That quickly passed and he growled. His hand moved towards you.
“You want to throw me across the garage? Try it. I’ll come up swingin’.” You stared him down as he paused again. “You are one of the biggest and most talented men around here and you do not get to act like a child. I may not have been around long, but I’ve heard the stories. Too many of them. Do you have any idea how long it takes to fix one of your tantrums? Do you?”
“No,” he mumbled.
“Hours. Not everyone can flip trucks, Braun. They have to wait for all the other trucks to be loaded and gone before they can call in a crane. That’s hours that people have to stay after an already long show away from sleep and possibly their families. Not to mention, you didn’t even see there was still a guy in this one. He could have been hurt. Not that it would have mattered to you, Monster Among Men. If you’re going to flip something, you better be prepared to stick around to fix it. And all of this because you’re not getting your way-“
“Brock-“
“I know. We all heard. But we also heard that Mr. Angle is going to do all he can. It may not turn out to be much, considering the powers that be. Not everything is up to him, even if he is the manager. And said management seems to have Brock’s back. That’s how it is. You can find something to do in the meantime. Any suggestions?”
He thought for a second. “Not really. Fought Roman, beat him. Fought Jinder, beat him.”
You sighed and turned to Kurt. “What about… Bobby Lashley? Didn’t he fight in something-“
“The MMA.”
“MMA. Fantastic. That’s a skillset that different than usual, if not closer to UFC style than what you’ve fought already. Is that possible Mr. Angle?”
He nodded. “We can make that happen.”
You turned back to Braun. “Will that satisfy you for now?”
“Yes.”
Kurt brightened up. “Great. I’ll let him know and get your match for tonight.” He nodded at you. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, sir.” You gave one last glare up at Braun, then left to finish up your show duties.
***
The match against Dolph and Drew was next while Kurt set up the new main event. Dean and Roman beat them easily, though the odd team-up was able to get in several good hits. The big shock was that Dolph kept whispering something to Dean during the match, making him more angry by the minute. Roman had to tag himself back in and finished Ziggler off before he could be rescued by the Scotsman.
“What was he saying?” Roman asked on their way out.
“Nothing I’m going to repeat.”
The original main event was bumped back. Seth was ready though. He was always ready when it came to his Intercontinental title. To watch him fight Elias, it was nearly impossible to see the fatigue from Sunday.
But Elias saw it. He knew where to look. The repeated blows to the small of Seth’s back, where he had crashed through the guitar, wore him down. He didn’t need the guitar tonight. The damage was already done. Elias won. But he was still a trembling mess by the end of it.
His blood chilled in his veins when Finn Balor’s music sounded.
Elias grabbed his belt and waited at the stage-side ropes. Finn came down similar as before, coming to stop to look up at Elias. The Drifter knew he was shaking, and knew the other man could see it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to hold off a rested Finn.
Finn shook his head and smiled. “Nah. T’is is your moment.” He gave Elias a shallow bow and headed towards the stage. Only to be stopped himself by the flames and wolf logo of Baron Corbin.
“You’ve had it pretty easy since Money in the Bank,” he said, circling Finn. “But this the WWE. Anything and every prestige is up for grabs. If you think you’re man enough, you’ll put the contract on the line next week. Then we’ll see whose ‘moment’ it really is.”
Finn stole the mic before he could say anything more. “You’re on.”
Baron grinned, haven gotten what he wanted. He sent a nod towards Elias in the ring and walked away.
***
Fighting Bobby Lashley was good practice. It wasn’t an easy match, and Lashley had an impressive strength to him that kept Braun guessing.
Kurt was ready in commentary before the match was even over. When Braun won, he made another announcement. This one was well received, especially by Braun.
“This is Monday Night Raw. For too long we have been stunted by those who have not put their best foot forward. You don’t have to be the best to show up every week, nor does a high consideration of self get you far here. That is why I am already announcing this promise. If Brock Lesnar does not show up to fight Braun at Summer Slam, then he will be forced to relinquish the Universal Title. If he retains, then he will have to follow the standards set up for champions and defend it at least once a month.”
This was really putting his job on the line, but finally getting this frustration out in the open was addicting.
“If the Universal cannot be pried from his hands, then it’s replacement shall be designed by the WWE Universe so it can represent them.” He sighed. “I don’t know a lot of the details here, but this will happen. I give you all my word.”
Note: There was supposed to be more to this, but the week got away from me. If you’d like there to be a smutty part two, let me know. Any other thoughts, comments, and ideas can be sent to my requests, which is open for business. So is my tag list for a bunch of fandoms. Enjoy!
When he walked in, he immediately stood out like a perfect target. The swagger was like something pulled out film noir. A bad one. And the “tattoos?” Even temporary tats should be applied over a few days so they don’t all look fresh, ignoring how fake they looked.
He blustered up to the bar and waved you over. You groaned.
“A martini, please. Sh-“
“I swear, if you say the Bond line I will kick your ass myself.” You made him the drink quickly, eyeing everybody that was eyeing him. He paid for it then and left a great tip. “Honey, that’s sweet and all, but you really don’t belong here.”
He nodded and took a sip. “I agree this is not my typical drinking destination. But I’m looking for someone.” The bar instantly went silent. The man continued on like nothing had changed. “He’s about six-two, balding, has a four-leaf clover tattoo cut through by a scar on his left shoulder, is wearing a bright blue shirt, and has a really bewildered look on his face right now.”
A man fitting that description stood at a back-corner booth. “Who’s lookin’ for ‘im?” He was a local gangster known for sneaking ammunition in and out of the city. Cináed by name.
The rookie didn’t look back. “Oh, a few people. But just me at the moment.” He finished his drink and swiveled around on his bar stool. “I was wondering if we could talk.” He reclined against the bar as Cináed’s men left their table and formed a circle around him.
“One more time,” Cináed growled, “who’s askin’?” His hand reached under his coat. “Everybody out!” He made eye contact with you. “Sorry, miss.” He pulled out a wallet and dropped a large fold of cash on the counter. “For your missed tips. This is your place, so you can stay and keep an eye on it. We’ll try not to get it too messy.”
You swallowed. “I’d appreciate that.” The last of the patrons filed out. You left the bar and went around collecting glasses. You cleaned them at the far end of the bar, straining your ears to hear what they were saying.
“I just want to talk. I heard about a little somethin’ you did on thirteenth street. Wanted to meet the mastermind.” He sighed and put his hands up as a goon patted him down. He bit down on his lip when the goon fumbled with the bottom of his shirt. “I can explain-“
“Officer Richard Grayson.”
Several guns clicked and cocked into place. Cináed pointed his ready piece at the officer’s head.
“What did you want to know, officer? ‘Cause you’re talkin’ to the wrong guy.”
“Am I? My apologies.” Grayson tried to stand up but was forced back down. “It was beautifully done. I thought perhaps it was your brother, but we found one of your prints at the scene. Unless he’s framing you.” He leaned back further as Cináed pushed his gun into his forehead.
“Is that so?”
“Boys,” you called out. “Don’t make a mess in my bar.”
Cináed nodded and stepped back. “My apologies, miss. Listen, Officer, even if my sweet kid brother was tryin’ to frame me… there wouldn’t be evidence. Try Okada. He keeps encroaching on my turf with his sales. If I’m out of the way, he gets twenty square blocks. Got it?”
Grayson nodded. “That’s what I needed to hear.” He licked his lips and looked around. “Do I get to pass this along to my superiors?”
The boss shared a look with the man to his right. He jutted his chin and the men started to leave, paying for their drinks on the way out. Cináed was the last out. “Get home safe, miss.” The bell over the door chimed on his way out.
The officer drew his hand across his face. He turned around to you. “Can I get a-“
“We’re closed.”
When you got home, your boyfriend was waiting for you.
“Did you really have to be so dramatic?” You dropped your purse and escaped your shoes. “And what’s with the tattoos? They look terrible.”
Dick was laying on the couch shirtless. He smiled brightly. “Welcome home to you too. I got what I needed.”
“Mmm. And you almost got shot for the trouble.”
You avoided his grasp on the way to the bedroom. He groaned and chased after you. He didn’t catch you until it was just the two of you and your skivvies. You helped make it even by pushing down his sweatpants. When he leaned in to kiss you, all he got was air.
“I’m mad at you. You almost got yourself killed.” You stopped him from saying more with a kiss of your own. “I could have lost you. Right in front of my eyes.” You covered up his excuses with more desperate kisses. He hissed as you dug your nails down his back. He was there. You could feel him. He was okay.
Dick pulled you down to sit in his lap on the bed. “Hey. I’m okay.” He nuzzled into your neck. “I won’t promise anything because I can’t, but nothing is going to happen to me. Or you. Okay?” He pulled you ask close as he could. “I’m here. Safe.”
You leaned back with a chuckle. “Safe? Honey, you are stuck in this room with me. A very scared and horny me.” You licked your lips as he tilted his head.
“Did… did me staring down that guy turn you on?”
“A bit. Yeah.” You straddled his hips.
It was a lovely night, though you made sure he understood that if he almost blew your cover again, there would be serious consequences. Drowsily you played with the ink across his chest.
“You gotta get rid of the tats, babe. They are so fake.”
“What, you don’t like them? I even got one inspired by you.” Dick turned onto his stomach so you could see the rose between his shoulder blades.
“Fine. If you do ever go for it, you can get something like that.” You laughed when he tried to crawl back over top of you. “Nuh-uh. We’re closed.” You pushed him off and curled your back into his chest. It wouldn’t be long before circling your hips would inspire him to convince you to stay open.
The Reader gets caught in the middle of an attack on Roman. The final touches are put into place for Extreme Rules.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, the reader gets involved, unwanted advances from Dolph Ziggler
Word Count: 2360
Note: This one was written a bit quicker due to the 4th of July, but all plot points made it in this week. (I forgot one a few weeks ago and had to scramble. You guys didn’t notice, did you?) In the coming weeks, the Reader is going to get sucked into the middle of everything. If you don’t want to miss a chapter, my tag lists are open. So are my requests if you’ve got an idea you don’t want to write yourself. Hope you guys like how this has been going so far. Enjoy!
Seth was past being subtle and he hoped Elias was too. The crowd screamed along with his entrance and he made his way to the ring like a man on a mission. They tried to start a Rollins chant, but he waved them away.
“No, no, no, no, no. We’ve got to get something out of the way. All of these open challenges have been fun, but who I want to fight hasn’t answered. Not like he should have. But that’s alright. That’s what we’ve got a manager for.” Seth paced around the ring. “I talked to Kurt Angle, and if my opponent answers the challenge, we’re gonna have one hell of a match at Extreme Rules. Elias, can you drift your way out here?”
There was a pause. Seth shifted his weight and shook his head. A bright grin broke out on his face as he heard the strum of a guitar. But he was confused; Elias wasn’t on the stage. The strumming came again, and the crowd started screaming. Seth spun around, and Elias was leaning against the ropes.
“Rollins,” he said with a nod.
Seth eyed how Elias was holding his guitar. “Which Delilah is she?” Rollins counted on his fingers. “Are you at ten yet, or…”
“Delilah is always Delilah. Doesn’t matter how many times the song breaks, the tune will always be the same. And so will the pain each time she comes into play. Right, Rollins?” Elias smirked. “How’s your head?”
“Just fine,” Seth smirked back. “As a matter of fact, I would like to return the favor. You up for an Extreme Rules match on Sunday?” He held up the Intercontinental Championship. “I would fight to the ends of the world to keep this. The past several weeks you have done just about everything to make me lose it but get involved fully yourself. If you were trying to piss me off, congratulations, you’ve done it. On Sunday, under this ring, there will be tables, chairs, and everything we can use to break each other. Use them, bring your guitar, bring your best. ‘Cause I am going to-“
Seth didn’t get to finish as Elias quickly moved forward and crashed his guitar over Seth’s shoulder. While Seth was trying to catch his breath, Elias towered over him.
“Bring your best. Your ego. Your all. It won’t be enough.” He left the ring, broken guitar over his shoulder. On the floor, he turned around and gave Seth a mock bow, who could only grimace and glower back.
Jinder had been able to secure a match with Titus O’Neil. He claimed it “was one last bit of sparring before Extreme Rules” where he was “sure” to beat both Braun and Roman and ensure the coveted spot for the Universal Championship.
Despite Apollo Creed and Dana accompanying Titus to the ring, Sunil was able to interfere several times. At one point, Dana was able to knock him over the head with her clipboard, but that only kept him out of trouble for a few minutes. Minutes that Jinder was able to use his own skill to beat down the founder of Titus Worldwide. Sunil was about to interfere again as an ankle grabber when a large hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. He was thrown nearly the entire length of the ring where he crashed into a barricade.
Jinder hurried to the ropes and came face to face with Braun Strowman. The monster among men stepped off the apron and smiled. Jinder started to shout at him when Titus scooped him up. Jinder was rolled up for the pin. Titus Worldwide had a short celebration outside the ramp, then they hurried out of the arena. Braun stepped into the ring and quickly neutralized Jinder for his customary drop. He roared and left.
This could not be allowed.
Sunil stumbled ahead as they searched for Kurt Angle. Jinder pushed his announcer out of the way when they found him.
“What kind of a manager are you? Letting Braun go around and do whatever he wants. It’s terrible leadership. What are you going to do about his actions.”
Kurt sighed. “Nothing.” He waved his hands and kept going before Jinder could interrupt him. “I watched everything before Braun showed up. You had an advantage over Titus O’Neil because of Sunil, who I know was working under your orders. So from what I could see… you’re even. You had the advantage, then Braun gave enough to Titus so he did. Considering everything, I think the superstar who won was the right one.”
Jinder scoffed. “So there’s not going to be any consequences.”
Kurt pursed his lips and thought. “No.” He rubbed his head as Jinder huffed and stormed off. This was either the easiest blow-off he had given so far, or it was the worst decision he’d made in a while.
Further backstage Ember was roaming the hallways. Her forehead was creased, and everybody could just about see the cogs of her mind tumbling over one another. She shadowboxed at an extra steel frame for the stage. A sing-song voice made her freeze.
“Ember!” Sasha came up next to her, all smiles. Ember tried to walk away, but Sasha followed. “I need to talk to you. About Extreme Rules.”
With a sigh, Ember stopped. “Me too. Sasha-“
“Bayley is all hugs and smiles, I know, but she’s also full of fight. It won’t hard to beat her, but we’ve got our match next Monday and I don’t want to jip you a great match by giving all my energy to Bayley. If Bayley wasn’t in the way, we could have been having our number one contender’s match on Sunday.” She nudged Ember’s shoulder. “Fate is a funny thing. So can I count on you to have my back? There’re no disqualifications. No rules. We can do anything. You in?” Sasha held out her hand for a handshake.
Ember took Sasha’s hand and curled her fingers into her palm. “No.”
“What?” she growled.
“I’m not going to have your back on Sunday. If it had only been one person, maybe. But nearly the entire women’s roster is telling me to not trust you. So, I’m not going to. If I was in your position, I’d use Extreme Rules as a chance to take out Bayley, and then turn around and use what I could to weaken you before Monday.” Ember watched Sasha’s eyes widen. “That was your plan, right?” She shook her head. “No. I won’t have your back on Sunday. See you on Monday.”
Ember walked away. The other woman stood irate until Ember rounded a corner.
Then all hell broke loose.
Sasha threw everything she could get her hands on. Chairs. Papers. She tipped over the steel frame, ignoring the people it almost landed on. They all stayed back as she let out a harsh scream.
When her lungs finally gave out, she brushed back her hair with a huff. “What are you looking at?” She pushed past a bewildered techie. Ready for battle. With anybody.
“Excuse me, Mr. Ziggler?” You rushed to catch up and nearly bumping into his partner, Drew McIntyre. Not that it was a bad thing. “Um, you guys have a match tonight to become number one contenders for the tag team champions. What are your thoughts on your opponents for the evening?”
Dolph sniggered. “The ‘Authors of Pain’?” He smiled up at Drew. “They just got here and they think they even deserve a chance at the titles? Whew. The audacity.” He eyed you up and down, making you clear your throat and shift your attention to Drew.
“Mr. McIntyre, they have shown themselves to be incredibly strong. Do you foresee any problems in keeping up-“
“Keepin’ up? Lass, they will be the ones strugglin’ to keep up. We ‘ave years of experience an’ it has served us well.”
“They don’t stand a chance,” Dolph added. He stepped closer to you and laid his hand on your shoulder. “Speaking of chance….”
“Mr. Ziggler?” You eyed him warily.
“Dolph, please. Life is a game of chance, don’t you think? So what about this bet: we win I get to take you out to dinner. If we lose I have to settle for your number?”
You shuddered and took a step back. “I only gamble with my money, Mr. Ziggler, never with my life. Good luck in your match.” Dolph had kept his hand on your shoulder, so you pushed it off and walked away hoping he wouldn’t try to talk to you after the match.
It looked like it was going to be unlikely. New or not, the Authors of Pain did a great job of keeping the veterans on their toes. They weren’t as fast as Dolph, but they were sturdy and hitting them was like hitting a brick wall. The sturdiness carried into fighting Drew, with Akam surprising Drew with a suplex.
You considered taking them a collection of cookies when they pinned your unwanted suitor.
The last match of the night had been set up between Finn Balor and Bobby Lashley. Something about wanting to show off in a past versus future of the company match. It was mostly going to be for show with nothing to be gained except for pride, so you answered when the stage manager was looking for someone to interview Roman.
You found him packing up his stuff at a hall convergence. Seth and Dean walking away in the background. “Hey, Roman.”
He dropped his stuff and answered you with a smile. “Hey, Y/N. What can I answer for you this evening?”
“I’m kinda wondering what you’re going to be doing for Extreme Rules. Seth has got his extreme match with Elias, and Dean has one with Kevin Owens. Dana hasn’t completely caught me up, but as far as I know, this is your first pay-per-view without a match in… a while if not ever.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it is. I mean, the night’s not over… and I have to say I might actually be looking forward to getting to just enjoy a show for once. And it’s not like I won’t have anything to do. I’ve got my brothers to root for, to have their backs if they ask.” He chuckled. “I’m going to be there anyway, even if technically I’ve got the night off.”
“You guys really are like brothers,” you asked with a hushed voice. Sounded nice.
“Yeah, we are.” He gave your shoulder a slight nudge. “How’s the training coming?” He grinned as you perked up.
“It’s going great. Thanks for your help, by the way. I don’t think I could handle a whole match by myself or anything, but I can watch my back. I think.”
“That’s good. Have you-“
You were grabbed from behind and Roman was pushed into the wall. Jinder punched at Roman’s torso until he fell. Then he continued with kicks. Seth and Dean came running up and were able to pull Jinder away for their own attack.
The ruckus had summoned a series of security guards and an irritated Kurt Angle. He stood between Jinder and the Shield. “What are you doing? You can’t just do whatever you want.”
“That’s not what you said about Braun earlier.”
Kurt grit his teeth. “I explained by choice then. You were already crossing the line. Braun’s actions more or less pushed you back across it. Or I thought they did.” Roman surged forward, making Kurt struggle to push him back. “This has got to stop. Roman, you go one way, and Jinder you go the other way. I’ve got something to announce before the last match.”
Roman and Jinder stared each other down.
“Roman?” you squeaked. He looked back at you and stood down. Jinder was smirking, so you glared at him. “Jinder,” you said darkly. His forehead scrunched up, but he did leave. Kurt headed towards Gorilla.
“Hey,” Dean caught your attention. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You looked back at Sunil, whom nobody had seemed to notice yet. “I’m fine.” You hugged yourself and picked at the fabric of your sleeves. Did you really just-
“Hey,” Dean said softly. He looked at you, trying to look past the mask you’d built. He opened his arms to talk, but you stepped into his chest. Like clockwork relearning how to tick, his arms closed around your shoulders. Dean relaxed into the hug as you did. Your stomach felt like it was full of butterflies, but not quite. More like finding the missing piece to a thousand-piece puzzle. The one from the center that completed the picture and made you feel accomplished. The last one right before you took the puzzle apart to start a brand new one. One that hopefully wouldn’t be missing anything. Dean broke into your thoughts. “You okay, ladybug?”
“Yeah.” You took a deep breath and stepped away. “You guys were packing up. Didn’t mean to keep you from that.”
Seth snorted. “Don’t worry about it. Jinder did the interrupting. Not you.”
It made you smile. “Still, I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll see you guys Sunday.” You gave them a hesitant wave and left for Gorilla to catch Kurt’s announcement.
Kurt went out with no music. “On Monday Night Raw, superstars are supposed to settle their differences in the ring. It’s to keep backstage free from becoming dangerous for everyone involved in making the show happen every week. That is why I am setting the last Raw match at Extreme Rules between Jinder Mahal, Braun Strowman, and Roman Reigns. That match will be a triple threat number one contender’s match for who will get to face Brock Lesnar for the Universal Championship.” He sighed while the crowd reacted. “Hopefully this will clear things up. Now for our main event.”
Finn Balor’s music started before Kurt could get off the stage. He was beaming and carrying his briefcase. He would end up winning against Bobby Lashley, each wrestler impressed by the other in a rare clean ending for Raw.
Our Deepest Desires 