Prompt: “Could you write me a Prince Devitt fic? All cocky and arrogant he is and really kinky? He meets me at a bar or something like that? 😍” – @florist-laura
Pairing: Prince Devitt x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: alcohol, language, bad decisions, SMUT, FILTH FILTH FILTH, public fingering, elevator make-out, spanking, name calling, hair pulling, master/sir use, oral (both receiving), orgasm control, begging, choking
Word Count: 2130
Note: Father, forgive us about to sin. Okay, so originally this was a Finn/Balor fic that I could never seem to finish. Thank you so much for sending this prompt in. I finally got to use the darn thing! Having said that, I wrote all of the rest of it in one sitting. Sweetie, this is filthy trash and I hope that’s what you were asking for because here it is. Happy WWE Answered Request Week. Have at it!
You felt his hand grope your ass.
Within a split second, you had grabbed his wrist and spun it behind him. Before he knew what was happening, you slammed his head into the bar, narrowly missing your glass of whiskey. He fell to the floor with a thud. The man jumped to his feet, fists raised.
You grinned at him. “Are you going to back off, or do you want me to reintroduce you to the floor?”
His face twitched as he growled “bitch” under his breath. But he walked away all the same.
You downed the rest of your drink under the amused eye of the bartender. “What?” you asked.
“Nothing. But a guy in the corner booth is motioning for me to refill your glass.”
“Seriously?” You turned to flip the guy off, but you stopped when you saw who was in the booth. He looked dangerous in the best of ways. Short hair, a scruffy beard that looked like it belonged to Jack the Ripper, and a black leather jacket. One hell of a gorgeous man. Those bright eyes shining from the shadow made your chest tight and your heart thunder in your chest. He lifted his glass in a salute, which you mimicked. You turned back to the bar before you were completely lost.
The refill burned as you took it like a shot. A chaser eased it along.
“Glad to see he got my message,” an accented voice said. The man from the corner stood on your right, filling in where the jerk stood just moments before. “Ya’ve got some style there, miss…?”
“Y/N. Thanks for the drink. And the compliment.”
“Ya deserve many compliments. More than I could give ‘n a lifetime.” He glanced away and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yer prob’ly not drunk enough for such lines. Or for hearin’ any more after that last prick.”
You smiled and looked at your glass, running your finger around the rim. “But you aren’t being a prick about it. Mr…?”
“Devitt. Prince Devitt.”
You snorted. “Prince? Started out on the top of the food chain early, huh?”
He barked a laugh. “I’m the best. The only way I could ‘ave started was at ta top.” Before you could say another word, he laid his hand on top of yours. “Come sit wit’ me.” An order. One you gladly followed when he reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of anything and two glasses.
It was half empty in a blink. It was going to be a bitch in the morning, but for the moment your skin was alive. Prince’s cheeks had a rosy glow to them that was almost cute, except for the way his eyes were o clear over them. Always looking at you. Your chest. Skimming your form. Your lips. Glaring at any man who dared look at you on the way by. His hand rested on your thigh dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. When you wanted it the most, he reached a finger to the seam of your jeans and pressed. You swallowed. Anything was better than moaning, even in such a deafening place as that. If he kept going, there was going to be trouble hiding your expressions. Already several people kept looking over.
“So, this is what you were holding out for?” The jerk from earlier stumbled up to the table. “You’re better off hooking up with someone else, dude. Paid the chic a compliment and she tried to slug me.”
Prince growled. “She did slug ya. And a slap on the ass is ‘ardly a compliment.” His face darkened as the man chuckled.
“Really? And flowers are more your style? Then you’re in the wrong place. This bar is for men who can take what they want.” His hand gripped your forearm as he began to drag you out of the booth.
You heard it before you saw it. The jerk was holding his face from the floor. His face looked like it was drunkenly trying to consider the existence of de ja vu. Prince’s shadow hovered over him like a foreboding hurricane. Right now he was in the eye, but here in a second, he was going to get hit with part two. Prince lifted the guy off the floor.
“No.” You stood and caught his arm. “Not worth the trouble. He’s too drunk and stupid.”
The jerk fell with a thud as Prince let go. You felt an arm around your waist and left with it. “We’re goin’ ta my place. I’m gonna to really show ya what a real man is. An’ take what I want in a way that’s gonna make you scream.”
You hummed. “Promises, promises.”
***
It started in the elevator. Other people got in a level after you, which seemed to irk him but not enough to stop him. He stood directly behind you and tightened his hands on your waist.
“Ya know why that prick was never gonna get ya?” He nipped at the shell of your ear and whispered, “yer too much for ‘im. I could see it soon as I saw ya. Ya wanna be throuwn around and given it rough. I’m gonna make ya drip before we make it to ma door.” The longer he talked the thicker his accent became. And the tighter you pressed your thighs together. “I’m right, aren’t I? Yer wet already.”
Since you were in the back of the elevator, everyone was looking at the doors. He popped your button and shoved his hand down the front of your jeans. You gave a jolt and his arm constricted around you. It was a fight to keep your breathing quiet and your eyes forward. Prince curled a finger into your slick and hummed into the back of your throat.
“I’m gonna love cummin’ in this tight cunt.” Twisting his head, he used his nose to push your head to one side. He bit down at your neck. “Gonna love markin’ ya. Makin’ ya mine.” He pulled away as the elevator emptied. You could feel the teeth of his smile on your skin as no one else got on. “Here we go.”
You gasped as he turned you around and slammed your back into the wall. His lips attacked your jaw’s underside. His hands reached up under your shirt and pinched at your breasts through your bra. Like any good woman, your mind latched onto the hot bulge pressed into your crotch. You reached for it, only to find your hands pinned above your head as Prince continued to ravage your chest and throat with kisses, bites, and a possessive licking across your collarbone.
The doors dinged. Prince was calm, borderline stoic, as they opened to his floor. You, on the other hand, looked fucked ten ways to Sunday. And he hadn’t even fucked you yet.
He dragged you down to his door, pinning you to the inside of it and fumbling to lock it. You rushed to remove your clothes before he could rip them. With a smirk, he stood still as you sank to your knees to undo his belt and pull down his pants. His length bobbed in your face, distracting you as you helped him step out of his clothes. You yelped as he tugged you to your feet by your hair straight into a teeth-gnashing kiss. He reached behind and grabbed at your ass.
“Hmhmm,” he chuckled. “ya got a great ass.”
You gasped as his nails clawed at your lower back. “Is that supposed to be a step up from the guy at the bar? I have to say… I’m not impressed.”
“You will be.”
Grabbing the back of your neck, he guided you over to the kitchen table. The wood was cool against the flush of your body. You yelped as Prince slapped your ass. Soon there was a matching handprint on your other cheek. It stung when he gripped the globes of your ass and parted your cheeks. He groaned in approval and gave you a series of lighter swats so he could watch your pussy clench.
“Yer such a slut, aren’t ya?”
“Yes, sir.”
Prince paused. “I like that. Let’s take it up one more step.”
“Master?”
“Good girl.” He leaned down and kissed the base of your spine. “Ya gonna be loud, yeah? Gonna tell tha whole fookin’ floor who’s fookin’ ya.” He slapped the back of your thigh. “Right?”
“Yes, Master.”
Prince kneeled and bit at your ass cheek in a place he hadn’t hit. “Good girl.” He sucked harshly at your leaking pussy, making you cry out. Setting a ruthless pace, he shoved two fingers past your lips and scissor them open. With a shout, you grabbed the sides of the table. The speed and force of it all took your breath away. Your walls tightened around his fingers. Then he pulled away with a smirk you could hear.
“Oh, cailín leanbh,” he cackled, “ya thought I was goin’ ta give it to ya that easily?” His voice was suddenly at your ear. “Yer not cumin’ till I says so.” Again he took hold of your hair and pulled you to your feet. “Now get down there and suck like the little slut coileach ya are. No hands.”
The floor bit at your knees as he shoved you to the floor. Whatever pleasure you had been experiencing had fed into making his head an angry red that matched the bright handprints on your ass. You placed your hands on his thighs and messily kissed your way up his cock. His grip tightened in your hair as you laved around the head. Taking him into your mouth, you sucked and hollowed your cheeks. Prince threw his head back while his thighs tensed.
“That’s it. Good girl. Such a great mout’. Suckin’ me dow’n like the proud slut ya are. Gunna fook yer mouth, cailín leanbh. Gonna fook yer t’roat till yer beggin’ me to cum.”
You bobbed faster. Your nails dug into his skin as he placed both hands on your head and held it steady as he took over. His moans and whines were the only thing helping you to focus on breathing. Your kees hurt, your ass stung, and your pussy was dripping and unattended. You needed him to cum. Then, maybe, he would let you cum too. He gave a strangled cry as you choked a bit.
“Oh, Y/N,” he hauled you to your feet again and crashed his lips to yours. You fumbled not to fall backward, but he pushed you back onto the table. Prince kissed up your stomach to your breats where he bit at your nipples. “Beg for it, Y/N. I can last all night or finish on ya face. Neith’r helps you. So, beg for it.”
Whimpering softly, you tried. “Please. Please, Master, let me cum.” He bit harsher at the side of your breast. You weren’t loud enough. And his cock was so close you could feel the heat of it. He slapped lightly at your pussy making you screech. “Please! Master. Make me cum. I need you. Your cock. Need it. Please.” You stopped as a hand came to rest on your throat.
Prince teased his head at your entrance. “That’s all I needed ta hear.”
Your body quaked as he sheathed in one hard push. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pulling your hips to his thrusts, leaving you with nothing to do but survive the ride. Bruises were surely going to cover your body tomorrow, and you didn’t care. And there was no chance of you being able to walk tomorrow. You didn’t care about that either. What you cared about was how Prince’s cock was spearing into each and every one of your sensitive places, known and formerly unknown.
“Prince,” you rasped.
“That’s it, Y/N. Cum on Master’s cock. Cum!” He pinned one of your legs back and thumbed harshly over your clit until your vision whited out. Vaguely you could hear screaming. It must have been you. Your walls fluttered as hot cum coated them. Prince’s wrecked voice hissed into your skin as he fell forward.
What a wonderful way to die.
“Y/N? Ya still alive?”
Honestly? Barely. You were probably dangerously close to passing out. “I’m just… perfect,” you answered with a sigh.
“Well, yer ruined for anyone else now. No one is gonna be able to fook you like I just did.” In the only moment of tenderness he’d shown all night, Prince lifted you into his arms and carried you towards your bedroom. You laid your head on his chest and he chuckled. “What? Did ya think I was done with ya?”
Prompt: “Maybe just a real Fluffy and Smutty one shot where Drake and the Reader celebrate either his or her birthday (it doesn’t matter which!) and they decide sometime early that day that they wanna start trying for a baby, which leads to them trying that night after they are settled in and home?”
Note: This came out super cute. But seriously, I had this cooking in my brain and then Drake had to go and check on his cruiserweights when they got beat-up? Not fair. Almost wrote this fic on the spot if I hadn’t had company. I hope this is what you had in mind, anon. Any feedback is super appreciated. Happy WWE Answered Request Week. Enjoy!
“Happy birthday, dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!” Everybody cheered and clapped as you blew out the circle of candles. The cake was quickly cut and dispersed to those who wanted a piece and you ended up with a plop of icing on your nose.
“Happy birthday, love.” Drake leaned forward and licked it off before giving you a sugary kiss. He bypassed your embarrassed squeaking and kissed your cheek.
“Get a room!” a few people yelled. The loudest was probably Xavier. Drake wandered off to join him and Miz. You heard them start talking about Xavier’s gaming show and smiled.
Brie slid up next to you and whispered in your ear, “careful about getting that room. Unless you don’t want to sleep for a few months.” She adjusted Birdie on her hip. With a laugh at your pout, she handed you her daughter. Birdie giggled and babbled while you danced your fingers in front of her face and down to her stomach. She grabbed your shirt in her small fist and laid her head on your shoulder while you bounced.
Across the room, Miz gave Drake a nudge and directed his attention to you. Miz whistled. “Oh, you’re in trouble now. She’s got the Look.”
“The look?”
He nodded. Drake watched you with soft eyes. Miz nudged him again. “You’ve got the Look too. Have you guys talked about it yet?”
“Talked about what?”
“Kids.”
Drake shook his head and looked down into his drink. “No.” He glanced back at you. “I mean, yeah, I would love to have kids. But I don’t want her to put her career on hold, ya know?” Miz and Xavier nodded. They suggested that you two should talk. It was an hour before he could catch you alone for a minute.
“Yeah, babe?” You giggled as he tried to work up to saying something. He was so cute when he was flustered.
He sputtered a bit then set his cup down so he could take your hands. “We can discuss this later in more depth. But seeing you with Birdie… it was a good look. I… I would like to see more of that. With our own. Child. It doesn’t have to be now. Or in nine months. Just… eventually.” He let go of your hands and fluttered his own.
“Drake, Drake…” you caught him before he could disappear. “Holding Birdie… it felt right. I want that too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
He grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you quick. The spark in his eyes dimmed a bit. “We have people in the house. So many people.”
“I’ve got a plan for that.”
Having that many people visiting, even if they were your friends, was actually exhausting. So, you planting yourself on the couch was realistic. And your girlfriends noticed. And since everyone came with a plus one… they started to leave a pair at a time. Miz and Xavier gave an extra nod to Drake on their way out. He plopped down next to you once the house was yours again. The topic hung in the air unsaid for several minutes. You licked your lips.
“Do you want to talk more about it now, or start the process?”
“What do you want?”
Him and his cheeky grin. Two could play at that. You ran your hand over his thigh. “I kinda what to get started.” You gave him a little pout and your best puppy eyes. “For my birthday?” A little cliché maybe, but what the hell.
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled you into his lap, gasping when you rolled your hips just how he liked it. The way you liked it too. While his hands on your hips and his growing desire was focused on the process, his eyes were focused on you. “You are going to be so beautiful. You’re stunning now, but I can’t wait to see you growing.” He placed a hand on your stomach. “And glowing.” You sniffled as he flicked your nose. His gaze wandered down to your breasts. “I wonder how big these are going to get.” Like he did most nights, Drake rested his head on your chest, his favorite pillow.
“And you,” you said, tilting his head up, “are going to be a great father. You take care of the 205 guys so well. I can’t wait to see you holding our child in your arms. Teaching them things. I bet they’ll have your gorgeous eyes.”
Drake blushed. “And your smile.”
You shared a look and then burst out laughing.
“We are such saps!” you laughed. You dismounted his lap and headed towards the bedroom. Drake snagged the back loop of your pants and followed you. He turned you around at the foot of the bed and caught you in a kiss. Distracted, he also rid the both of you of your clothes. In whichever pocket, you knew there was a little silver packet that was not going to be used any time soon. You fell onto the bed in a twist of limbs and a giggle. Drake landed on top.
He kissed across your face and your chest and under your neck. Visiting each spot he knew was a weakness that made you drip for him. His lips latched around your nipples and his tongue swirled around the tips, making you arch for him. Keening turned into a sharp intake of breath as his fingers trailed through your lips, searching for proof of readiness.
“Please, Drake.”
“Not yet.” He curled his finger into your heat and shook his head. “You’re not quite open enough yet. I want your body with its door wide open.” He kissed and sucked at your sweet spot. Your walls tightened around his finger. “We’ve got all night, love. And we are not going to bed until I’m sure you are satisfied.”
Suddenly his body heat was gone from your side. It reappeared between your thighs. His scruff caught at your sensitive skin. Slowly, torturously, he added his deft tongue to the work of his fingers. One hand flashed out to pin your stomach down as you bucked towards his face. Each curl was right where you needed it. He added a second finger, using them to scissor you open. The pleasure was building too fast for you to keep your eyes open. Your body focused instead on the sparks whisking to your nerve endings. How Drake hummed louder when your thighs tightened around his head. The way his hand spread wider on your stomach the more you moved. He focused more on your clit like it was the final lock to a vault.
“Drake-“
You came with a shout. He eased you through it, also prolonging it by calmly circling his thumb on your clit. You eased into the sheets as the buzzing died down to a soft tingling. His hands rubbed up and down your thighs and along the back of your legs where they sometimes cramped.
“Y/N?”
“Hmm?” You forced your eyes to open from their blissfully closed state. For a minute you were confused as he had you pass him a couple of pillows. He had you to lay over them. With the two pillows propped under your stomach, you were presenting to him. It made you think, especially with the focus he had fluffing the pillows. “You’ve been planning this for a while haven’t you?”
Drake gripped at your ass in thought. “Maybe.” He trailed a finger up the back of your spine, making you shiver. “Does that make you any less ready? We can try a different position if you’d like.” You whined and made yourself dead weight so he couldn’t move you. “Okay, love. The process.”
Both of you groaned as he inched his length’s way into you. His hands massaged along your spine and your hips as you adjusted. He grunted when you thrust just enough to get him moving. The thrusts were long and sensual. Slowly building a bonfire with you. Alternating the placements so you received the full spectrum of pleasure. Then just a tiny bit faster. Pumping into you and making you pant. Faster. Reaching for your clit. You whimpered. You fisted at the sheets.
“Oh, baby, just like that…”
He tightened his grip around your hips and started to pull you back to meet him. With a rasped moan he slowed down to a slow, hard rhythm that made your eyes cross. Then he shifted his angle and made you scream. Finding that, he kept going, increasing his pace until you had nothing left to scream. Your body shuddered and stiffened.
“Y/N-“ he slurred, right before he came. His cum filled you in hot spurts.
Usually at this point, you would roll onto your back and hold him when he went to lay on your breasts. This time, Drake kept you from moving. He fluffed the pillows more so your hips stayed up. Not a single drop of cum was going to escape. In the meantime, he grabbed a warm towel from your bathroom and ran it over your damp skin. He finally took away your supports once he was done and slid into the bed next to you.
“Thank you for my present, sweetie,” you sighed. Stretching, you hummed barely above a whisper. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Drake shot up. “Oh my God. We’re going to have a baby.”
“Now, now,” you soothed, “don’t get too excited. It might take a few tries.”
“Like hell, it will.” Drake paused and thought for a second. “Maybe so. Either way, I am going to keep doing this until you are pregnant.”
You told him to remember that promise after you passed along Brie’s warning.
Prompt: “I was wondering if you could write something kinda loosely based off a Matchbox 20 song called Push. If you need lyrics or anything, or a different guy to work with, I can come off anon. But can you write it for a reader with not so good self-confidence who is maybe dating a guy (hmm, let’s say Ziggler) who is taking her for granted? Enter Jack Swagger (if you write for him), who has a silent thing for her and finally, can’t take hiding it and he decides to show her? I need this like air please?”
Pairing: Jack Swagger x Reader, beginning Dolph x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: mentions of alcohol, break-up, continuous checking in, SMUT, oral (female receiving)
Word Count: 2340
Note: Forgive any inaccuracies in his characterization; I had a crash-course in Jack Swagger to write this. Again, I am sorry to any Dolph fans; he is again the perfect asshole. My requests are still open, and the WWE Answered Request Week is in process. All my tag lists are open. Enjoy!
Jack Swagger POV
She was curled up on a crate again. Arms wrapped around her legs and head on her knees. I sat next to her with a sigh. “What’d he do this time?”
“Nothing,” she said with a sniffle. Y/N must have been there a while because her face was already dry and the puffiness was receding. “I guess that’s the problem. It’s so much… nothing.” She leaned into me as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t mind him going out with his friends all the time, but is one dinner a week too much to ask? Is it?” She looked up at me. I shook my head. “He’s a good man,” she whispered, like she was trying to convince herself. “Driven. Willing to do anything for his goals.”
But not willing to fight for you.
I was about to say it out loud when the man himself sauntered up.
“You tryin’ to cop a feel of my girl, Swagger?” he joked. None of us laughed.
“No.” I stood. “It was just a chat. Though if you keep leaving your girl out in the cold, someone is bound to whisk her away. Like Rollins or Cesaro,” I added hastily. “Did you want to grab dinner, Y/N?”
Dolph stepped forward and took her hand. “Back off. Where would you like to go, Y/N?”
I sent her a wink as they started to make plans. It twisted like a knife that a wonderful woman like Y/N needed a third-party intervention to get time with her boyfriend. Her clueless boyfriend. That wasn’t right. She laughed at something he said. She wasn’t mine. Y/N was never going to be mine.
***
Reader POV
You were in the ring together. Dolph was staring down Tyler Breeze and you were doing the same to Summer Rae. As the match started, you realized too late that you were hardly going to get any ring time. Even though Breeze kept tagging in Summer, Dolph would turn around and tag you out. You evaded him once, having about five minutes with Summer before getting thrown into your corner. Dolph won the match. You almost didn’t rush to help him when Summer retaliated.
Backstage, you confronted him. “Why would you do that?”
Prompt: “I was wondering if you could write something kinda loosely based off a Matchbox 20 song called Push. If you need lyrics or anything, or a different guy to work with, I can come off anon. But can you write it for a reader with not so good self-confidence who is maybe dating a guy (hmm, let’s say Ziggler) who is taking her for granted? Enter Jack Swagger (if you write for him), who has a silent thing for her and finally, can’t take hiding it and he decides to show her? I need this like air please?”
Pairing: Jack Swagger x Reader, beginning Dolph x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: mentions of alcohol, break-up, continuous checking in, SMUT, oral (female receiving)
Word Count: 2340
Note: Forgive any inaccuracies in his characterization; I had a crash-course in Jack Swagger to write this. Again, I am sorry to any Dolph fans; he is again the perfect asshole. My requests are still open, and the WWE Answered Request Week is in process. All my tag lists are open. Enjoy!
Jack Swagger POV
She was curled up on a crate again. Arms wrapped around her legs and head on her knees. I sat next to her with a sigh. “What’d he do this time?”
“Nothing,” she said with a sniffle. Y/N must have been there a while because her face was already dry and the puffiness was receding. “I guess that’s the problem. It’s so much… nothing.” She leaned into me as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t mind him going out with his friends all the time, but is one dinner a week too much to ask? Is it?” She looked up at me. I shook my head. “He’s a good man,” she whispered, like she was trying to convince herself. “Driven. Willing to do anything for his goals.”
But not willing to fight for you.
I was about to say it out loud when the man himself sauntered up.
“You tryin’ to cop a feel of my girl, Swagger?” he joked. None of us laughed.
“No.” I stood. “It was just a chat. Though if you keep leaving your girl out in the cold, someone is bound to whisk her away. Like Rollins or Cesaro,” I added hastily. “Did you want to grab dinner, Y/N?”
Dolph stepped forward and took her hand. “Back off. Where would you like to go, Y/N?”
I sent her a wink as they started to make plans. It twisted like a knife that a wonderful woman like Y/N needed a third-party intervention to get time with her boyfriend. Her clueless boyfriend. That wasn’t right. She laughed at something he said. She wasn’t mine. Y/N was never going to be mine.
***
Reader POV
You were in the ring together. Dolph was staring down Tyler Breeze and you were doing the same to Summer Rae. As the match started, you realized too late that you were hardly going to get any ring time. Even though Breeze kept tagging in Summer, Dolph would turn around and tag you out. You evaded him once, having about five minutes with Summer before getting thrown into your corner. Dolph won the match. You almost didn’t rush to help him when Summer retaliated.
Backstage, you confronted him. “Why would you do that?”
“Do what?” He checked his phone and texted someone back.
“It’s the first time I’ve gotten to tag with you and you wouldn’t let me into the ring. I could have held up my half of the match. You said we had equal skills.”
He hummed and pulled you into his chest. “I’m sorry. I thought I was saving showing off your skills for a special occasion.”
“What’s a better occasion than getting to fight with you?”
“I didn’t realize this meant so much to you. It felt normal to me, you having my back. From the floor or in the ring.” He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll see if I can’t talk them into a rematch. One we’ll win together that will give you all the time to show off.” He was slowly swaying with you when some of his drinking buddies showed up. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he told them.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Where are you going? I thought you were taking me to dinner?”
“We ate in catering.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Sorry, baby. I already told them I was going out.”
“Tell them you have to cancel. Please.”
One of the guys waved. “It’s okay, Dolph. We can catch you another day.”
“No. Hang on.” He turned and gripped your shoulders. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve had me all afternoon. We had a great match. We won-“
“You won,” you spat, pushing him away. He growled a warning. “I’ll push you around if I like. That’s what you’ve been doing to me since we started seeing each other. Pushing me aside. Pushing me away. Pushing my career down below yours so you could get the glory.” You batted his hands away as he reached for you. “No. I’ve tried to give you what you need. But have you thought, even for one second, about me?”
“Come on, Y/N. Be reasonable.”
“I’m not going to do anything you say. At all.” You grit your teeth as your cheeks heated up. Before walking away you added, “and don’t bother with that rematch. We’re done.”
Dolph sputtered and cursed. “Fine,” he shouted at you. “You were a drag anyway. I’m going to get everything I’ve ever wanted without you pulling me down.”
You disappeared around a corner before he could see your tears.
***
Swagger POV
I was already at the hotel when I got the call.
“Jack.” Her voice shattered, breaking me.
“Where are you?”
“In the hotel.”
Y/N told me the room number and I rushed up, not even bothering to put on shoes. She was waiting at the door for me. I was going to kill Dolph for making her look like this. The door clicked shut behind me as I stepped in and hugged her close. Her arms tightened around my waist as her body shuddered.
“What have I done?” She let me guide her to the bed. Her phone lit up with a message. She unlocked it so I could read them. “His spelling is getting worse. He’s getting so drunk.”
The messages were getting worse, though they were terrible to begin with. My brow creased. All those hateful things he had sent her. All the names. Just because she broke up with him. She broke up with him? My mind raced. No. She needed comfort. Not my emotional baggage about her.
“He’s with friends. They’ll make sure he gets home safe.” I tossed the phone into her suitcase so she couldn’t hear it buzz or see the notification light. “Was he going to room with you?” If he was, we needed to leave. She shook her head. “Okay. You’re going to be okay.”
My world stopped when she leaned up to kiss me.
***
Reader POV
Fear twisted in your stomach. He looked so shocked. Had you overstepped? Misread something? He’d come so quick; he wouldn’t do that without some measure of something. Right?
“Y/N-“
“I’m sorry.” You scooted away from him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… you’ve always rescued… such a bother… I’m sorry.” At the far end of the bed, you hugged yourself and tried to become as small as you felt. His hand tilting up your face made your body tense. So you shut your eyes.
Jack puffed with amusement. “I liked that.” When your eyes snapped open, he had a small smile. “You’ve never been a bother. I’ve never wanted to step up because there were times you were genuinely happy with him. If you were happy, I couldn’t get in the way of that. And when you weren’t…” he ducked his head, “I kept my distance.”
You took a deep breath and guided his hand to cup your face. “You don’t have to keep your distance anymore.”
“You’re hurt. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Then just hold me.” He opened his arms so you could curl into his chest. “Hold me until I forget about him.” You held on as he moved further back on the bed so you could sit in his lap. The even rise and fall of his chest synched with your slowing heartbeat. With a contended hum your eyes closed as he rubbed your back.
***
I finally had her in my arms. With the possibility of her becoming mine. Mine to love and to cherish. To defend. To hold, just like this. I took a deep breath, relishing the moment.
It was impossible to stifle the moan when her hand curled around a portion of my shirt. She giggled against my chest. “You okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“You sure?”
I will never know if it was a mistake or the best decision of my life to take a peek of her face. Her eyes were focused on mine. She was pressed into me as close as she could with our clothes still on. Then her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. I swallowed and nodded. Y/N leaned into my touch as I ran my thumb over her cheek. My jaw clenched as she ran her finger up my chest. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
“Protection, me or you?”
“Pill.”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “Last chance. Are you absolutely-“ She swallowed my question with her lips. Her sweet lips. Smugly I thought about Dolph at whatever bar. With friends but alone. Missing out on the best part of his life that had just slipped through his fingers. I kissed her back, doing my best to show her how much she was going to be loved from now on. She whimpered into my lips as my hands began to roam her body. Everything fit perfectly into my grasp.
“Jack-“ she moaned.
“I’ve got you, Y/N. I’ve got you.”
With a nudge, I laid her back onto the bed. Under her clothes she was even more stunning than I could imagine. Her hand reaching to find me brought me out of my shock. I kissed as much of it as I could. From the part of her neck that made her gasp, to the tips of her breasts that made her restless, down her stomach, to the juncture of her thighs and everything in between.
“Beautiful,” I murmured into her skin. “Perfectly wonderful.”
Her thighs tensed on either side of my head as I nosed across them. She smelled wonderful. Like it was going to be the best meal of my day. I hummed in delight after one taste test. Definitely the best meal of my day. Her hands curled in my hair, guiding me forward where she needed. When her whines were high and needy, I curled my fingers into her channel. Curling them, I watched her writhe. I found the spot that made her cry out, toying with it until she didn’t have anything left to scream. Her eyes could barely stay open, and I was nowhere near done. Keeping my fingers still, I once again explored her body with my lips. Each time her walls clamped down on me, I learned a new place to revisit.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, darlin’.”
She quivered with a softer release as I visited each place while pumping my fingers. When I crawled up her body, her cheeks were wet. “No, no. Talk to me. What am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing.” She cupped my face with a smile. “Absolutely nothing. You’re taking so much time.”
“Of course. I’m not going to rush a second of this.” She moaned into my kiss. “Don’t rush this, baby. We’ve got all night. Every night. For as long as you’ll have me.”
***
All night. He was going to love you all night. Every night. It was such a strong promise you almost doubted it could be true. But then he was there. Dropping his clothes. Locking himself between your legs and easing into you with such a slow stretch that you were pleading by the time he was fully sheathed. You couldn’t hear what he was mumbling to himself under his breath, but he sounded distressed in the best of ways.
“Jack, move. Please. Move.”
He pulled out and hesitated. You gave a short cry as he thrust hard and deep. Slow and steady. You floundered to hold onto the sheets onto him onto anything. When you caught hold of his hip he rolled you up so your grip was better. And so his head could rest on your shoulder.
The angle shift reached even further depths. Then his mouth was at your pulse point, sucking gently. Yet focused enough to take your breath away. Your mind couldn’t process how that was possible. It had too much to focus on with the way your body shook with his movements, how your nails raking down his back made him growl, and how your toes were about to cramp.
“I’m right there, Jack. Don’t stop. Please.”
“Cum, Y/N.”
You gave a hoarse shout as he quickened his pace just enough to send you over. His mangled grunt was followed by him nearly falling on top of you. You shuddered as he pulled out. He fell to the side of you and reached for your hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your knuckles.
“Are you okay?”
All you could do was hum affirmatively.
After a few minutes you felt him leave the bed, and then the warm towel he used to clean you up. The slow, soft kiss he gave you was the last thing you felt before falling asleep.
***
She saw him before I did. But once I had Dolph in my sights, I stepped in front of her and readied my fist.
“Well, that didn’t take long. Were you cheating on me, you b-“
I didn’t let him finish. He scrambled up from the floor ready to fight but thought better of it. “If you want to do this, we can ask for a match. Is that what you want?” I cocked my head with a smirk.
Dolph tried to look at Y/N, but she was hidden behind me. “No. Have fun with her. If you can.”
Y/N had to step in front of me before I could go after him again. “I will. And I’m going to treat her right. The way you never could.” She stayed there until he was gone, trailing her fingers up and down my chest. I barely heard her.
“Do you really mean that?”
I took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Yes. You will never be hurt like that again.” She stunned me with a quick peck on my cheek, but I didn’t let her go. “Hey, hey.” I pulled her close again for something longer. “Don’t rush it, baby. Don’t rush it.”
Brooklyn has never been a safe place to begin with. Sometimes getting rescued can take you deeper into danger. When the reader finds herself suddenly swept into the secrets of vampires and a pair of crystal blue eyes, she begins to find answers to questions she never thought she would ask.
Pairing: Modern Vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N); original villain, appearance by Wanda Maximoff
Warnings/Promises: opening trigger warning for assault (it is unsuccessful), moments of terror, vampires doing vampire things, vampire-related deaths, mentions/descriptions of blood (it is a vamp fic after all), SMUT, oral (female receiving), smut is noted so you can skip it if you’d like
Word Count: 6000 (sorry, not sorry, so much plot!)
Note: Written for @after-avenging-hours August AU Challenge. This is as close to writing horror as I have ever gotten. So be thus warned. On a funnier note, I forgot who I was writing for and had to completely rewrite my outline. (That Vamp!Loki fic might come out at a later date.) It still came out good and I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is super appreciated!
The moment you felt his eyes on you in the diner, your body shivered and filled your bloodstream with adrenaline. Your fingers and toes twitched with the urgency to run. Then you thought it over. You were in a public place. There were several people around, and you could leave when another table did. The idea worked until the party you followed went in the opposite direction from your apartment. Swallowing the dryness in your mouth, you turned towards home a few blocks away.
Your footsteps had an echo.
You looked over your shoulder. There was no one there. By the time you’d walked one block, your heartbeat was louder than your steps and fast enough to sound like running. So you did. You ran.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Three pavement chunks crossed.
Thump. Pat. Thump. Pat. Thump. Pat.
It was harder for your echo to keep up, but he did. A hand snagged your hair and tugged you back into a hard chest. Another hand clamped over your mouth as he dragged you into an alley. The streetlights flashed over the blade that cut through the strap of your purse. Bright teeth smiled, and the knife toyed with the buttons on your shirt. It cut through the top one. With your eyes, you pleaded for mercy.
Over his shoulder, two red lights blinked.
The knife and the smile were gone. You stayed where you were, frozen, as you listened to the scuffle. Somebody thudded into the wall with a groan. Small metal broke on the brick. A larger metal rang as it was picked off the pavement, then jingled as it fell. There was a harsh cry. Then a drowned gurgling.
You squeaked as cold hands tapped at your shoulders. Looking up, the two red lights drained into two blue eyes.
“Are you alright?”
The adrenaline in your system gave up, and darkness rushed up to meet you.
***
Your phone alarm was a rude awakening. It buzzed and fell to the floor, forcing you to crawl out of bed to find it. Officially awake, you took a second to breathe. What a terrible dream. The missing top button said it wasn’t a dream. You shot up. Did your attacker get murdered? Why weren’t you at a hospital? What if your memory was wrong? Were you even attacked? Stretching, you confirmed you had been. The tops of your shoulder blades were sore and you could feel what used to be ragged skin from getting shoved into rough bricks. Who had patched you up?
This was way too much thinking. Especially before coffee.
Groggily you walked to your kitchen, bumping into things that seemed to have shifted overnight. At least your coffee machine was still automatic. The cup seemed unfamiliar, and you weren’t sure why you left it on the counter, but it held coffee just fine. You opened up the fridge for creamer.
There was blood everywhere. Rows and rows of it. Hanging in bags from the racks and from an extra bar on the top. Various types, A+ through O-. And there was a container of creamer, which you hastily grabbed before shutting the door.
You were still dreaming. You had to be. The gurgling. That’s what it was. Way too many movies and then the stress from last night, yep. Your addled brain was making you see things. And the way to prove it was to look again. You took a deep breath and looked again.
Blood packets.
The door shut and opened several times as you tried to bring yourself back to reality.
Coffee. You needed your coffee.
“Don’t drink that.”
With a shriek, you dropped the cup. It never made it to the ground.
A large blond man was before you in a blink, holding your unspilled cup. “It has iron powder in it. Not that it would hurt you, but it probably wouldn’t taste good. At least to you.” The man stepped back and added some sugar to the cup before taking a sip. He reached into another cabinet and pulled out a travel-sized creamer. “Here. Use this, and you can take it home when you leave.”
Home?
Loose ends snapped into place. The things that had shifted overnight were not yours. The cups were in the wrong place. And now that you were paying attention, the walls were a different color and there wasn’t an atom of light coming through the curtains. The fridge. One more thread clicked, and you hastily ran your hands around your neck.
The man chuckled. “I didn’t bite you, don’t worry. I would have taken you home, but I didn’t have your permission to look through your things. Or to enter your place. You passed out before I could ask.”
“Where am I?” Before he could answer, the rest of your questions spilled out. “Who are you? What happened to that guy? When did you patch me up? Are you going to drink me? Am I dreaming?” You let him guide you to a chair and focused on breathing. The man started pouring another cup.
“My name is Steve. You are in my apartment, about twelve hours from when we met. We are across the street from the alley. The man who attacked you has ben taken care of. He’s alive and in jail. I patched you up while watching the police cars through the window. When you didn’t wake up for a while, I almost called the hospital.” He placed the tiny creamer and the bowl of sugar on the table in front of you.
“I don’t blame you for not taking me,” you said, playing with the sugar spoon. “They shouldn’t have had a reason to peek, but your fridge looks incriminating.”
“Thank you. I am not going to bite you. And,” he handed you the cup, “you are not dreaming.” The warmth from your cup and the way it burned our tongue verified his last statement.
Your breathing had eased down to normal. Your heartbeat was approaching sleep-steady. Steve sat across from you and waited patiently. You watched him too. How his eyes didn’t waver under your gaze. Your fear faded away into curiosity. “Am I allowed to ask questions about… being a vampire?”
He nodded. “Of course. Am I allowed to ask your name?”
“Yeah,” you blushed. “Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Ask away.”
It was the best conversation you think you’d ever had. The books had some correct things but were completely wrong in others. Like Steve couldn’t go out in the daytime. So he had black-out curtains and as a further preventive measure, he painted the glass too. He showed you, pulling back the fabric to reveal pictures rendered in an opaque stained-glass style. If there had been light coming through, you would have believed they came from a church. On the other hand, he was not averse to garlic and used it a lot in his cooking. Neither silver or crosses had any effect on him.
Steve asked you questions too. You told him about your job at the call center for the police station. You had been leaving to enjoy a few days off. He was glad he could help and that he wasn’t costing you your living. You told him about Wanda, your best friend who worked at the station next to yours and about your boss. “She’s not supposed to make us work overtime because of the phycological strain of taking emergency calls. But she’ll squeeze in an extra hour or two and guilt us out of overtime pay. One of these days the regional manager is going to show up and probably fire her. Unless she grovels her way out of it.” When you told him about your kickboxing lessons, he wasn’t as surprised as you were that you froze.
“If you need someone to practice with and gain the muscle memory that you need, let me know.”
It was dark again by the time the conversation puttered out. You were tired, and Steve had noticed. He offered to walk you home. At the main door to his apartment complex, you had to laugh. Across the street and one building over was your apartment complex. You invited him up.
“If you promise not to bite me.”
Steve smirked. “I won’t. Unless you ask me nicely.”
***
“Wanda, you should see this guy.” You flipped through your phone for pictures. It had been a couple of weeks but still, Steve kept checking up with you. “He walks me home from night shifts, so I feel safe.”
She hummed appreciatively at a picture you took of the two of you on the fire escape. “And you kept him a secret for this long because…?”
Oh, so many reasons. “I didn’t want you to freak out. And I wasn’t expecting him to stick around this long.” You hissed as she elbowed your ribs.
“McCready alert,” she whispered. You both lowered your heads and focused on your lunch. Still, your boss came over.
She tsked. “Hurry it up, ladies. Chatting is for once you’ve left the building. And Y/N, put your phone away. I know it’s lunch, but it’s still the tax payer’s time.” She waited for your ‘yes ma’am’ then turned on her heel and left to fret over another group of workers.
You and Wanda leaned back in your chairs. “I can’t wait until management gets wind of this,” Wanda moaned.
“Wait. You did it? You actually did it?”
She gave you a mischievous smirk. “Had to sneak my phone for a video of her pressuring Maria last week, but yes. The email has been sent. There are multiple copies of evidence. We should be rescued any day now.” You gave her a tight hug before going back to work.
The day turned sour after that.
“Yes, Ma’am, help is on the way.” You switched over to a cop ready for dispatch and told him the address. “Another body. Same as the others. Bloodless and with a punctured neck.” That was the third call of it’s kind that day. By the time you were about clock out, there had been three more. But the last person who was called in had survived. And they were still lucid as they were being strapped to the gurney. Which of course was caught on camera by every news station in the city.
The man’s eyes were glassed over with newly formed cataracts. “But I saw him. Big. Broad shouldered. His skin was cold as ice.” He reached out and grabbed at a first responder. “And his eyes. Red as a sunrise. He caught me in those and then I couldn’t see anything.” The doors closed and the sirens ended the video.
Steve was waiting for you in the lobby when you got off. “I know. I heard.” He waited until you were out in the street away from the last people going home before continuing. “It wasn’t me. These attacks happened during the day.” He took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “There’s another vampire in Brooklyn.”
He was forced to stay in as the attacks continued; you stayed with him every night. Six more each day and there were no other survivors. Even the guy in the hospital died. Some reports said from his wounds. One report you overheard in the break room from the case detective said that he was found with two more holes in his neck. Whoever was doing this had come back to finish the job.
By the fifth day, Steve was weak. He could barely walk from his bedroom to the kitchen. The once eerily stocked fridge was depleted to only a few bags. Rationing them wasn’t working. And worse: because the blood wasn’t flowing, not alive, if the attacks went on much longer he was going to have to go out and hunt. And possibly get caught in the frenzy.
He chuckled as you dabbed his clammy skin with a damp towel. “I can’t starve to death, one of the perks of being immortal. But this isn’t even as bad as when I was holed up during the Jack the Ripper Scare.” You sat back on your haunches and squinted at him. “Fine. I wasn’t around back then.” He looked less in pain while he was talking, so you tried to keep it going.
“When did you turn… get turned?”
“World War Two. I was a skinny kid and couldn’t get into the army. A doc caught me lying on my papers and told me about an experiment he was running. I showed up and he injected me with something blue. Didn’t find out until later that it was vampire blood.”
“Blue?”
“Yeah. Confused me too. Vampires can’t make their own iron, so our blood doesn’t oxidize when it makes contact with air. When we… feed… the iron we ingest flows through our bloodstream like anybody else. That’s what’s so confusing about these attacks. Feeding on people should only give them anemic qualities for a few days. But they have been completely drained.” He gasped and sank further into the pillows. “We only tested with so much. Maybe if they had made me drink more I would know enough to help.” He hissed and grit his teeth and you reached forward to use the towel again. He grabbed your wrist. You couldn’t help but notice the purple back-hue to his eyes as his thumb traced over your veins on your wrist.
You leaned closer. “What? You gettin’ hungry?”
“Don’t tempt me, doll.”
You bit your lip. “What if I want to tempt you?” He let go of your wrist and guided it to your lap. “Really. I hate seeing you like this. Please.” You kissed his forehead. “Let me help.” He shuddered a breath as you nosed across his cheekbones. “Steve, please.”
Next thing you knew, you were on your back. Steve’s eyes were dark and focused. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t take much, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He groaned as you turned your head, giving him access to your neck.
“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”
He nodded and took a deep breath, gazing at your exposed neck. His eyes glazed over with the same red hue you saw all those nights ago. Your breath caught in your throat as his lips made contact with your skin. He chuckled as your heart rate increased. He nipped at you, just enough with his sharp teeth to allow the tiniest amount of blood to well to the surface.
“Last chance,” he said, his voice an octave lower.
“Yes.”
{Smut Starting}
You gasped. Because of the placement, it felt like any other hickey. It made your skin flush and goosebump. As he kept going, time slowed. His words muttered against your skin sounded like he was yards away in an echoing tunnel.
“You taste so good, Y/N. Makes me wonder what the rest of you tastes like.” He moaned as you gripped his biceps. “Would you like that? Hmm? Me taking all of you. Your blood, your essence, your pleasure.” He inhaled and kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. “If you have an answer, best make it now.”
“Please, Steve,” your breath hitched as he ran his teeth over your shoulder. “Please.”
He pulled back. His cheeks had a rosy hue that contrasted with the dark lust in his eyes. “No tricks, no powers. Do you want this?”
“Yes.” You pulled him down for a kiss. The shirt you had bundled in your fists was tossed away, giving you access to so much skin to touch and admire. He rid you of your clothes too, shredding them. You got rid of your bra yourself.
Steve wasn’t focused on your chest once he had your shorts off. Your thighs were parted wide as they could go. He nipped up and down your stomach, not breaking your skin, before nosing down your thighs. “I hope you like to scream, Y/N. I like my meals vocal.” He caught your gaze. The comparison hit you. The way his eyes hovered between red and blue reminded you of a night sky at its darkest right before the dawn. Satisfied that he had your attention, he began to suck hungrily at your sex. Indeed, you did scream. You would have screamed down the stars if he had just. Let. You. Reach. That. Peak.
You were panting. Eyes glazed and unseeing besides your focus on him. Your nails lightly scratched at his scalp, making him grunt. You were shivering too.
“’bout ready to cum, baby doll?” he joked, taking a breather to mouth at your inner thigh. It made him laugh when you couldn’t form the words, insisting instead by furiously nodding your head. You arched back into the pillows as his hand sank down and a finger curled through your folds. “That’s it, doll. Let me take it all.” He added a second and set his mouth against you again. Your body was quivering on the edge until he sucked down on your clit. While you were falling apart, you could hear him lapping up everything.
His hands, cool against your passionate heat, moved up your body, followed by the rest of him. You reached for his belt buckle and found it missing. Instead, your hands wrapped around his length. It was your turn to toy with him now. Each stroke and twist made him hoarsely moan and gasp.
With a broken chuckle, you reached lower and tightened your grip at the base of his cock. “’bout ready to come, baby?”
He batted your hands away and pinned your wrists above your head with a smirk. He mouthed at the valley of your breasts, then moved up to lave at your nipples. You writhed in his grasp. “Not so cheeky now, huh?” He moved to your other breast, making you mewl under his ministrations. Shifting his grip, he held your wrists in one hand. With the other free, he traced it down your face, pushing your hair out of the way, and then to his bite. You shuddered as he touched it and kept trembling as he continued down your body. He teased his head at your entrance, coating his length in your slick. He captured your lips in his, delightedly swallowing your scream as he bottomed out in one thrust.
Steve fought to control his breathing as your walls welcomed him in. His grip faltered, and he had to brace on either side of you. You kept your arms up. Ready, you started the rolling pace. He moved with you, easing you into something faster and breathing hotly on your neck. He brought his face nose-to-nose with yours and thrust faster. Harder. Until you were seeing stars.
“Steve-“
“I’m right behind you, doll. I’m right. There.” He reached for your clit again. “Let me hear you, Y/N.”
You weakly cried out as your toes curled. It turned into a scream as Steve bit down on your neck as he came. Your vision blanched. He fell to one side, chest heaving. Not that you could catch your breath either.
{Smut Ended}
Faintly, you could feel his lips at your neck again, his tongue running over your punctures. “They’ll be gone in a few minutes.” He sank back into the pillows and pulled your hand onto his chest.
For once, Steve’s skin was warm under your touch. You hummed and snuggled closer to him while you dragged your fingers up and down his chest. Your mind turned on again, against your will.
“Have you loved before?” you asked.
His chest rose and fell deeply. “Yes.” You paused to let him continue if he wanted to or to change topics. “Her name was Peggy. Back during the war. Soft hair. Powerful brown eyes with legs for days. And British. She kept them from putting me in an early version of cryo. Helped me escape too when they wanted to keep using me for spy missions.” His Adam apple bobbed in his throat. “She wouldn’t let me turn her.” He said it without malice or blame, but you could hear the hurt. “We were married, but eventually I had to tell people I was her son.”
You knew the answer but hoped that you could be wrong. “Where is she?”
“Back in the UK. She left in her sleep. Peaceful. As it should be.” He placed his hand over yours on his chest. “I’ll always have her. And you will always have me.” He kissed the top of your head and held you as you fell asleep.
***
As suddenly as the attacks started, they stopped. The public was on edge, but they were comforted by the usual crime documentary idea that serial killings stop because something happened to the murderer. The cops in the precinct were not comforted. It made everybody snappy. Broken pencils. Slammed drawers. And shouted statements that could have been said normally. The only person seemingly unaffected was your boss. She fluttered her hands to get the incoming floor’s attention.
“Good morning to you all. Today is going to be like any other day. Except that we will have a visitor.” She turned and gestured to a man standing so still you hadn’t realized he was there. “This is Mr. Sorin Vladimirescu. He will be observing our process and asking a few of you some questions.” She chuckled nervously. “I know you all will be honest.” Her wristwatch chimed. “And that’s the bell. To your stations everyone.”
You and Wanda giggled as the man gently ordered McCready to her office. Someone must have also given him the heads up how cold they kept the building because he was wearing a dark grey peacoat and matching gloves. His long dark hair swept over his shoulders and was tied back from his face. You looked back at your desk before you were caught looking at his light hazel eyes.
“Handsome too,” Wanda whispered before putting on her headset.
The only person you noticed he took away for questions was the newer girl. Her usual nervousness was replaced by calm ease with just a smile and firm but welcoming handshake. It was about another half an hour before he made it to your and Wanda’s side of the floor.
“You must be Y/N,” he said once you’d turn your station off. “I’ve heard from just about everyone how level-headed you were last week during all those attacks. I listened to some of the recordings myself, and I have to agree.” He smiled and caught your gaze. It was almost impossible to look away except you had to blush. “I was wondering if you could have a longer private chat about helpful calming techniques I could pass along. If that isn’t to forward?” Nothing else came to mind except a yes. “Perfect. I will see you at the end of your shift then.”
Once he had shifted his attention, you shook your head. The front of your head hurt. You must have been staring at the screen too long and didn’t realize the damage until your eyes got a rest. Stealing a glance you noticed he was now talking with Wanda. You didn’t mind resting your eyes on him.
“Thank you for blowing the whistle,” he told Wanda, giving her the same intense look. “I have learned many things today. Because you stepped up, a lot of your coworkers are going to be better off.”
Wanda beamed under his praise. She shared a giggle with you once he had left. Neither of you could help but watch his retreating form before turning your stations back on.
***
The taxi Sorin had hailed pulled up to the door of one of the nicer hotels in the city. He walked around and offered you his arm to lead you into the building. The doorman greeted you both and encouraged you to enjoy your stay. Sorin kept his hand on the small of your back all the way to the door of his room.
“I took the liberty of having an evening dress brought for you.” He guided you into the suite and shut the door to give you some privacy.
On the bed was a white gown with drooping sleeves rimmed in delicate lace. It was fastened with a belt around your waist and fit you perfectly. Touching your bare throat, you took your grandmother’s necklace and matching bracelet from your purse. Jewelry was discouraged at work, but you usually forgot that until you were at the door. The chain and pendant matched nicely.
Sorin smiled and took your hand in his still gloved one. “Lovely. Shall we?” Dinner was brought to the room. He finally shed his jacket and gloves before pushing in your chair. The staff stayed and served each delicious course. They left after dessert, dimming the lights even lower on the way out. He reached out for your hand then jerked it back. “That is a lovely bracelet. Looks like silver.” He smiled roughly and took your other hand to lead you to the window seat.
“About keeping calm,” you started.
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get to that in a minute, dear. Tell me about yourself. Do you have anyone waiting for you at home? We’d hate to keep them up.” When a name didn’t come to mind, he scooted closer and pushed your hair out of your face to get a better view of your eyes. The light kiss to your lips was cold and hesitant. He breathed hard as he moved closer to your neck. “Y/N, would you mind removing your necklace? We don’t want it to get in the way.”
Your necklace? It hadn’t been in the way when… Steve.
“Steve,” you whispered. You said his name again, louder, as your mind slowly became your own. Sorin grabbed for the back of your neck when you jumped off the seat. With a shout, he let go and pulled his steaming hand to his chest.
The front door shook on its hinges. It shattered completely and Steve fell through. He was breathing hard. His eyes were a pale pink. Two steps in he fell to his knees. Strong hands on your shoulders kept you from rushing to his side.
“This? This is Brooklyn’s protector?” Sorin scoffed. “I’d heard stories. The soldier. Defender of the innocent and damnation for the wicked. I would have thought there were plenty of corrupted souls to feed on. And yet here you are. Starving.”
Steve struggled to his feet, bracing on the table. “I only take what I need.”
“All you take is their iron.” Sorin shifted his grip to your waist, wrapping his arms around and pulling you close. “I take it all. It’s not like they are going to need it. Iron, calcium, all the nutrients in their soon-to-be-dead body.”
“Cataracts,” you whispered. You shivered as he kissed the side of your face.
“Beautiful and brilliant. Yes. Sucking the nutrients out of someone has the effect of sucking out a lifetime. The fear in their eyes ages them. And then they die.”
“It’s a waste of life.” Steve tried to step towards you, but Sorin growled over your shoulder.
You licked your lips. “Why waste the life? Why not only do half, then let them heal and do it again? Then you’d have an endless supply.”
Sorin laughed and started dancing around the room with you at a frenzied pace you stumbled to keep up with. “Darling, we are immortal! Your lives are like blips of light to us. What is one more snuffed out now and then? The world does not miss them for long.” He grinned, spinning you and making you scream. “But it’s not a perfect life. I enjoy the finer things of this world. Thankfully, if you drink with the right people, sometimes they lead you to the right people to drink.”
Shivering, you tried to distract him. “Mercenary?” You cried out as he tightened his arm on your lower back. As if to crush your spine.
“You could call it that. I don’t curve my appetites to teaching the unwanted about life. Not that I’m paid to. And then there are the wives. The widows. The ones who have read to many romance novels. I save their souls when I deny them immortality.” He looked straight into Steve’s furious gaze. “Can you say the same?”
“Let her go.” Steve’s eyes were dangerously red now.
Your captor feigned thought. “Um… no. I don’t think I shall.” With a hiss, he yanked your necklace from your neck and leaned for your neck. The second his tongue ran over your skin, he jolted away. Freed, you ran to Steve and helped support him. Sorin’s eyes flashed crimson as he observed your body. “Ah, I see it now. You’ve claimed her.” He shrugged. Unbothered. “No matter. There is another.” He looked pointedly at you, then turned and crashed through the window.
***
The jab about ‘another’ made your blood run cold. There were two options, but the way he had looked at you could only mean one. Then when Wanda wouldn’t answer her phone, you descended into the panic that had been absent in your own encounter. Presently, you were sitting shotgun in a borrowed sports car. The owner, a very unlucky shark that Steve routinely caught frisking frat boys for imaginary debts, had been dropped off in the emergency room.
“Turn here.”
Wanda’s apartment building loomed. Having given Steve permission to enter, you raced up to her apartment, hoping Sorin’s head start wasn’t enough. You used your key copy to enter the door.
She was arched against the ceiling. Her mouth was opened for a body-wracking scream, one that you couldn’t hear. Her eyes were clamped shut. Every half-blink you could make out a swirling red mist surrounding her body, holding her in place, coursing through her.
Sorin sat calmly on the couch.
“Ah, you made it. Just in time to see the finale.”
At his words, Wanda fell to the floor. You moved to help her, but Steve held you back. She clawed at the carpet, her nails unnaturally long and sharp. You gasped as she saw you for the first time.
Wanda’s eyes were blood red.
She coughed. “What did you do to me?” An aftershock made her moan and roll onto her back.
“I saved you. From the march of time that tramples the best of flowers.” Sorin observed his nails as they lengthened to sharp points. “Is that going to be a problem, soldier?”
“Yeah,” Wanda said, wobbling to her feet and running her tongue over her new teeth, “it is. Take it back.” Her voice wavered. “Take it back.”
Sorin came to stand before her. He took her hands and kissed them. “Why would I want to do that? Think about it, darling.” He placed a finger on her lips before she could speak. “Eternity is slow at times, but you can enjoy every moment. Every sunrise. Every soft snow.”
“Then do it yourself,” she spat. “Why do you need me? How did you do this to me and how to you undo it?”
“It’s a lonely life, darling. And painful if done incorrectly. Ask the soldier. To make a bride?” He clicked his tongue and smiled, baring his teeth. “That takes a bit extra. Six days of six full feedings. A beautiful night under an empty moon. Sharing my gift.” He trapped her close to his body. “Even though you are only halfway done, it cannot be undone. There is only one last step to making you mine. And then… eternity carries on.” For a moment he leaned towards her mouth, then with a growl, he turned to look at you and Steve. “I do not wish an audience.”
Steve’s eyes flickered, and he moved you behind him. “Then you’re gonna have to kick us out.”
Sorin pushed Wanda to one side. “So be it.”
They leapt at one another, colliding and twisting mid-air. The slashes they made at each other healed quickly like zippers closing over the wounds. You and Wanda ran from one side of the room to the other as furniture was broken and holes punched into walls. The longer the fight went on, the longer it took Steve to heal. Sorin threw him into the support wall, chuckling as Steve sank to the floor. He pinned him to there, one hand around his throat and the other tense above his heart. Steve gave a shout. He fought against the hand caged over his heart, but the fight and the lack of oxygen were making him weak. Sorin wearied of his attempts. You winced as Steve bounced off the floor.
“Is this enough? This pitiful life you have chosen?” Sorin stepped onto Steve’s chest and pressed until you heard a slight crack. “You only take what you need, so you have the advantage over silver and the like. But I am stronger. I can go out in the light, feed whenever I want to. There is only a short time until the sun rises. My bride and I will be immune. But you? You will scream and smoke and disintegrate into unholy ash. Is that what you want your lover to see? It must be, for your death is imminent.”
“Do you always talk in paragraphs?”
Sorin spun to the source of your voice. Right into your fist wrapped around your grandmother’s necklace. He let out an unearthly scream and twisted away. Into Wanda’s path. Her eyes were an even fiercer red. When her long nails sank into his throat his cry gurgled in his throat. She kept digging and pulling. “Now, Y/N.” You tossed her the chair leg that had been broken during the fight. She looked into Sorin’s eyes, freezing him in place as she used her weapon. He shuddered as the air left his body. Around the wound, cracks formed and crumbled away until there was nothing left of Sorin Vladimirescu.
Wanda sank to her knees. Waiting. Looking at her hands she was surprised when they didn’t fade to dust as well.
“He didn’t make you his,” Steve said, sitting with his back against the wall. “You are your own vampire. Immortal outside of his power.”
She leaned into you as you kneeled and kept her from tipping over. “What do I do now? I don’t know anything about this except from fiction.” Her body shivered in your arms. You sent a look to Steve. Pleading. He nodded in agreement.
“You can stay with Y/N and I. I have the journal I kept when I was turned. It’s not perfect, but it might be the best base-line we have.”
Nodding, Wanda sat up straighter. “Okay. I might call my brother too. Pietro. Though, if you don’t mind, we might get a different apartment close to yours. We don’t want to be wholly in the way.”
You smiled. “I think the apartment right above us just opened up. I’ll give the landlady a call.”
While Wanda went to gather a few overnight/overday things, Steve met you in a reassuring kiss. He hummed against your forehead. “So. Does this mean you are moving in with me?”
“I guess so.”
“For how long?”
There was more to that question than the surface. You took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to turn me. I don’t want to put you through the pain you went through with Peggy again either, but…” You sighed and hugged him close. “I’m afraid even of the idea of eternity. All I want is to love you for as long as I live.”
He breathed deep, letting it out slow. “Then I’ll be here. For as long as you live. And I’ll love you forever.” He kissed the top of your head. “I promise.”
With Kurt Angle’s job in the balance, the entire roster is on edge. The reader is able to keep her head in the middle of the chaos and helps where she can.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence
Word Count: 2800
Note: Thank you all for being so patient with this series. I hope you like this chapter too! If you do, feedback is appreciated and the tag list is open. Enjoy!
August 27, 2018 – Monday Night Raw – Toronto, Ontario
“I have to agree with management. The best and only way Monday Night Raw should open every week is with the spotlight focused on me.” Elias frowned at the dissenters and rewarded the faithful with an irritated strumming. “You can disagree all you like, it won’t change a thing. WWE will still stand for-“ he paused for the audience’s response, “and Toronto will still be the last place on earth where I’d want to make my announcement.”
Elias plucked at the strings waiting for the crowd’s anger to die down. When they didn’t, he sighed. “I can wait here all night until you shut your mouths. You are going to hear what I have to say. You need to hear it because it concerns the future of my Intercontinental Championship.” That seemed to quiet them down enough. “Better. Next week I am going to have a concert. In between my music, there will be tournament matches to determine the number one contender. I will face them at Hell in a Cell.”
The crowd liked that idea, cheering loudly. Elias grumbled. “I don’t know why your so peppy to see one of your favorites lose. And that’s if anyone steps up.” He turned in his stool and faced the stage. “The mic is open to anyone who thinks they could take this accolade from me.” The arena filled with a hush as they waited for anyone to show up.
As Chad Gable’s music started, Elias nodded. Gable posed at the top of the ramp and pointed at the ring. Or more accurately, the title around Elias’s waist.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sunil Singh walked out onto the stage, “please welcome your former WWE champion, your former United States champion, and the future Intercontinental champion, the modern-day Maharaja, Jinder Mahal!” He stepped to one side, far away from Gable, and waited for Jinder to enter the arena. The wrestler stepped onto his red carpet made of light and then to the side, glaring at both Gable and Elias.
The stage’s screens were filled with static. Electric guitar was cut off and the arena filled with the cry of ‘burn it down!” Seth Rollins stepped onto the stage, then paused. His music ended and was quickly replaced by the guitar riff of Dean Ambrose. After Dean came out, they stood together in the middle of the stage and stared-down the men to their right and left.
“So be it.” Elias unhooked his title belt and raised it high, taunting his possible opponents.
***
Dean bumped into Roman backstage. “I have a plan, Uce.”
Roman’s eyebrows arched. “Oh, really. Should I be scared?” he kidded. He smiled as Dean lightly punched his shoulder.
“No. You don’t have a match planned for tonight yet, and I don’t want to wait till next week to do something. And my man No Way Jose hasn’t done anything in a while.”
Now Roman was confused. “Triple… threat?”
“No! You and Jose have a match, and I’ll referee.” He beamed, arms outspread as if presenting a golden goose. His brother’s expression suggested it was more like an egg. “Come on. You haven’t fought him yet. His style is different, he’s got better dance moves than me-“
“Nobody has better moves than you.”
“-and I haven’t gotten to oversee a match in a while. I bought the shirt and everything. Upgraded it too.” He tugged a black and white striped shirt out of his back pocket. Over the pocket, his logo had been stitched in. Messily. He wiggled it. When Roman sighed, he smiled even brighter in triumph.
“Alright. Let’s get this thing set up.” Roman rested his hand on the back of Dean’s neck after ruffling his hair while he could before Dean bounced away.
***
You were just about to start an interview with Chad Gable when there was the tell-tale roar of Braun Strowman. Many people turned and left the other way, including your interviewee. Not that you could blame him with an important match to have next week. You, on the other hand, could not keep your feet from running towards danger. You turned a corner and nearly tripped over the carnage that he was throwing around. “Braun! Braun! Please, stop.”
The monster stopped mid-throw. “Why?”
“Because if you don’t then we can’t help you.” You were shocked when Braun put down the trestle he was holding. You let out the breath you were holding. “That was quick, um. Okay. What do you want?”
“I want to smash Finn Balor’s face in.”
Were you expecting another answer? Not really. “Fair enough. Um, but nobody’s been able to find him. Which kinda means he’s not here tonight-“
“I’ve noticed.” He glared at the trestle and you interrupted his train of thought again.
“… so do you have a second option?”
He thought it over. “Samoa Joe’s gone. Fighting Jinder’s too easy, give or take a Singh.” When he stopped you hummed in agreement and motioned him to continue. “Roman’s here, but he’s already got a match tonight.”
If those were all his options, you would have to think of another. What about… “What about Seth Rollins? They’ve got a similar style and have both been champions. He’s had beef with Finn too. Ask him if he wants to have a little mutual practice. So, iron sharpens iron.”
Braun liked that idea. He smiled, which was a bit terrifying, and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” He went off to find Seth, clapping your shoulder heavily on his way by. You gasped and rubbed it with a pitiful ‘ow.’
***
Roman was waiting in the ring when No Way Jose’s music came on. He laughed openly and loudly when he spotted Dean in his ref shirt at the end of the conga line. As they danced their way into the ring, he leaned and against the ropes and shook his head. This was either going to be brilliant or a catastrophe.
Dean had the men face each other. Neither seemed to care when he started into the boxing spiel. “Alright. I want a clean fight with clean breaks. Go to your corners and come out swingin’.” While they stepped back, he looked over past the announce table and circled his hand in the air. “Ring the bell.”
They didn’t really know where to start. Frustrated, Dean pointed at each man and then at the center of the ring. When all they would do was circle one another, he exaggerated his sigh and stopped Roman’s pacing. He stood shoulder to shoulder him and raised his fists then did the same with Jose. He bounced on his toes as they met in a headlock, pushing and spinning until Roman gained the upper grip and forced Jose back into the ropes. Jose dipped under them and waved Roman off. Dean came in and counted quickly to four. Roman squinted at him and backed off.
Tapping his wrist, Dean answered, “we gotta schedule to keep, Uce.”
The match continued with Roman and Jose doing their best to fall into a rhythm that would benefit them. Dean watched happily, calling counts and near-pin-falls as needed. At one point he was sitting on a turnbuckle and had to hop to the outside of the ring as Roman tossed Jose into the corner. He counted, slower and closer to real time, as Roman hit Jose with his forearm ten times.
Jose was quick. Which frustrated Roman to no end and delighted Dean. He was able to avoid spears and superman punches with cat-like ease. With each miss, he would jive to another part of the ring while Roman got more and more frustrated.
Roman’s frustration turned into victorious offense. He slowed Jose down and disorientated him enough to plant him with a spear. Dean made a fair three count, and proudly raised Roman’s hand in victory, celebrating and hugging him. Dean paused just long enough to shake Jose’s hand and thank him before joining his bother for the exit.
***
“Hey, Y/N.”
Seth’s voice made you look up from your notes. You smiled at him as he trotted up. “Hey.”
“Not to freak you out or anything, but is there a reason why you suggested me as a Finn stand-in for Braun?”
You froze. It took you a second to come up with an answer. “Honestly… I panicked. I mean, it’s Braun; he’s a bit imposing. And I’m not and super short. But the Summer Slam match made me feel not so helpless, and then I know you and Finn have fought since forever. So, it all jumbled together, and your name came up. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to tell Kurt he needs to find someone else?”
“No, I’ll talk to him.” He smiled to put you at ease, which you appreciated. “Don’t worry about it.” He dropped his hand on your shoulder with a thud and left. Your bad shoulder. That Braun had just bruised.
You frowned in Seth’s general exit direction. “Ow,” you grumbled, massaging your shoulder.
***
Nia handed her title to the ref for safekeeping and eyed her opponent for the night. It was a local woman with a name Nia didn’t really remember even though it had just been announced. Amelia? Celia? Either way, it didn’t matter. This was just to keep her in action while she waited for the division to work itself out.
The bell rang.
To her credit, the woman wasted no time to begin an assault. She had Nia on the defensive from the start and maintained it for a few minutes. Then Nia was able to catch the woman’s incoming hand. Nia grinned sweetly, almost as if apologizing. The woman shrieked as Nia used her hold to bounce her off the ropes into a clothesline. While she was catching her breath, Nia bounced as well and landed a leg drop.
A three-count and thirty seconds later, she had her title across her shoulder once again. And she was ready to see how the main event would unfold.
***
The pain in your shoulder had intensified enough that you were trying to rotate it out when Kurt walked up.
“How did you do that?”
“Do what?” you asked. With a snap, you connected the dots. “Braun. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed that slows people down around here, it’s making them think with their heads and not with their fists. Actions may speak louder than words, but sometimes things get lost in translation. I take it there’s a Seth Rollins versus Braun Strowman match tonight?
He was impressed. “Yeah. And Seth agreed to it. Something about how ‘iron sharpens iron?’” He grinned as you shrugged. “Well it worked, so thank you.”
“No problem. Glad to help.”
Kurt turned to leave but gave you his attention for a split second more. “If I haven’t said it before, we appreciate you joining the team. You’re doing a great job.” You flinched as his hand clapped down on your shoulder. Hissing, you rubbed the sore spot harder than before.
***
Seth versus Braun went differently than everyone was expecting. There wasn’t a major goal for Seth, but he was still giving his all. Braun was being just as brutal as usual. Seth was quick and it was giving Braun trouble but that wasn’t the issue.
Braun was calm.
He didn’t give in to frustration or gloating. If anything, it was making him more dangerous to fight because Seth couldn’t read him. Which made Seth have to step up. Which in a normal match would have driven Braun to distraction. He maintained his controlled pace. Catching Seth. Grounding him. Letting the crowd use up all the excess energy that would feed his powerful rage.
The calm snapped when the red heartbeat took over the arena.
Finn, or was it Balor, showed up on the Titantron. His black leather jacket was almost indistinguishable from the back scene. At first glance, it was definitely Finn. But as he spoke and twisted to emphasize words, the bloody ring around his neck became visible. Seth stepped back and crouched into a corner, wondering who the blood once belonged to.
“Ya have my attent’on, Braun.”
The monster started pacing back and forth. Seth crouched lower; better to let the monster and the demon do battle and stay out of the way, he had enough of his own problems. All of the resolve formerly in Braun was a distant memory. Balor chuckled, his eyes flicking back and forth to keep up.
“Earlier ya said ya wanted to punch my face in. So, how about a little challenge? Next week there will be a fatal four-way, yerself included. If ya come out on top of t’at, then ya are welcome to take a little trip ta Hell… for this.” Balor raised the Universal title into view, causing Braun to stop. The demon king smirked as Braun’s knuckles turned white around the top rope.
Braun growled low and spoke loud, “I’ll see you there.”
Balor nodded. “Perhaps.” Then he was gone.
Seth and the ref flinched when Braun roared. They stayed as still as possible while he stood in furious contemplation. He left the match and the arena, uncaring of the ref’s count. There were bigger problems on the horizon.
***
The crowd was jittery and on the edge of their seats by the main event. Alexa Bliss and Alicia Fox started off first. Their fight ended up on the floor, where Alicia gained her much-needed advantage. To beat the count, Alicia rolled Alexa back into the ring. The goddess of WWE didn’t realize how much trouble she was in until her opponent was landing on her from the top turnbuckle, rendering her unable to kick out of the pin.
Alicia would survive through Mickie James as well. Her demise came at the hands of Bayley, who kept her exhausted body locked together in the middle of the ring. Several Bayley to bellys later, she was pinned.
Bayley didn’t celebrate past a victory pose in the corner before Dana came down to the ring. They were still battling it out when Sasha came out too. She circled the ring, always making sure she was in Bayley’s sights. When she hopped up onto the apron, Bayley tugged Dana to the canvas by her hair and went after her. Sasha dropped to the floor, keeping her engaged in a screaming match.
Dana made it to her feet and lifted Bayley off hers, bench pressing her over her shoulders and letting her drop, then holding on for dear life for the pin. She celebrated for a second, but Sasha was already out there and quickly took her out of the running.
The crowd was conflicted when Rhonda Rousey entered the ring next. Some still believed she was getting to move too fast, others wanted to see how her submission hold would stand up against the Bank Statement. It was soon answered as Sasha battered Rhonda’s sides and spine before flipping her into the hold. Had she also taken care of her legs, perhaps she wouldn’t have been able to crawl to the bottom rope. Rhonda retaliated with a similar tactic. She extended her focus to include injuring her shoulders and stomach, which helped preventing Sasha from being able to bend out of her hold. She tapped before her arm broke.
Moonlight flooded the stage. Ember Moon was next in line for the opportunity at the championship. She deftly avoided Rhonda’s well-aimed attacks and targeted her recent weaknesses. Cheers of encouragement followed her as Ember climbed to the top turnbuckle. Stunned by an earlier kick to the stomach, Rhonda turned and straightened just in time to be Eclipsed. Ember screamed in victory. She was only one more win away from Hell in a Cell when Natalya raced to the ring.
Formerly on the edge of their seats, the audience was on their feet. Swift. Piercing. Dangerous is how Corey described both women. The last round was one that exhausted those not even involved. Luck beat them to it. Natalya crashed on top of Ember and won the count.
At Hell in a Cell, it was going to be Natalya Hart versus Nia Jax for the Raw Women’s Championship.
***
Backstage, Kurt finished typing in a number on his phone. His expression was a mixture of pride and resignation while he waited for the other side to answer.
“I think I may have found an answer to your problem. Yes, I can meet you at the main office tomorrow. Yes, I have absolute confidence in this solution.”
Warnings/Promises: hastily written smut, suit!Dean, some dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fluffy-ish ending, no cut and NSFW (no gifs, just the text is SUPER smutty)
Word Count: 590
Note: It was move-in week, so this is super short. But it’s also very to the point. Enjoy!
Case-forced celibacy was the worst. It made everybody antsy and short-tempered. Mistakes were made. Things were said that weren’t true. Other things were left unsaid. So when those cases ended, you welcomed the idea of not being able to walk for a week.
“Come here.”
You did as Dean told you, stepping to the spot on the floor he was pointing to. It brought you chest-to-chest with him. He was clothed in his suit while yours had already piled on the floor. You hissed as he yanked your head back by your hair and sucked at your neck. He walked forward until your back crashed into your bedroom wall making some pictures rattle. Your hands frantically pulled at his suit shirt, but he batted your hands away. When you persisted, he tossed you onto the bed and pinned your wrists above your head.
“No,” he growled. “It’ll be better if you don’t try to move. Because I am going to make you cum and cum and cum until you can’t move anyway.” He silenced any rebuttal by ravaging your mouth until you couldn’t breathe. His hands gripped at your hips while his bucked. You could feel how hot and hard he was through the cloth. “Y/N,” he moaned against your skin. Rough, nipping kisses crossed down your body as his hands traveled up to your breasts. Those bright green eyes stayed on the placement of your wrists, smirking when you grabbed onto the headboard.
You shrieked. Dean dove int your sex. He lapped and sucked and hungrily did everything in his power to make you arch off the bed. His hands abandoned your breasts to control your thighs. He kept them from clamping around his head, spreading them as wide as your sore muscles could handle. Dean growled into you as you begged.
“Keep talkin’, Y/N. It’s the only voice you’re going to have for a while after this.”
Already he was making good on his promise. You were crying out when Dean curled two fingers into your heat. Whimpers. Screams. Mewling. Groveling. He wanted it all. And he took it all in exchange for mind-blurring pleasure. By the time he was crawling up your body again, you had come at least three times and you could barely feel your legs. At some point, he had shed his shirt and you could see his sweat-glistening muscles from under lidded eyes.
The sound of his zipper brought you back from faded consciousness.
A wrangled puff of air was all you could give as he thrust into you in one breath. You held onto the headboard for dear life as Dean fucked you as hard as you needed it. As desperately as he needed it. The headboard thumped wildly against the wall. Skin on skin was occasionally overcome by Dean’s grunts or your hoarse screams. Your body was raging. Your toes, fingertips, and nipples were cold. Dean’s eyes were still watching you. Blazing and intense enough to make you come at his bidding. He fell forward and took your hands, bringing you almost nose to nose. His eyes finally closed while his hips stuttered.
You were crushed under his weight, not that you cared. Your hands were your own once again. Dean gasped as you clawed down his back and flexed your walls, not that he cared. Neither of you cared what had been said or unsaid during the case.
The reader gets a slight injury in a match. Roman takes his time making sure the reader is safe but very satisfied.
Pairing: Dom-ish!Roman Reigns x Wrestler!Wife!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, SMUT, dirty talk, slight bondage, begging, Roman being a teasing little shit, multiple orgasms
Word Count: 2230
Note: This came out way dirtier than I was anticipating. Thus, why it took over three months to write. Have fun babes; reactions greatly appreciated. Tag lists and requests open, as always. Enjoy!
It was a test match. The McMahons wanted to see if the universe would like more coed matches, and you and Roman were the test. They’d given you both a heads up, so you’d added weight training to your routine on top of sparing with Sheamus. So far it was doing you good. Your usual speed was keeping Roman on his toes, and it looked like you were wearing him down.
That was not the case.
Roman was a better actor than people gave him credit for. One second you were steady on your feet about to jump, the next you were flying through the air. You landed hard on your back, though you were able to sweep Roman’s feet out from under him. Holding his ankles in a lock, pain blossomed in your spine.
“I need you to spear me,” you whispered.
“What?”
“I need you to spear me. Got something to pop back into place.”
Roman squinted at you but eventually made it to his feet. He positioned himself in the opposite corner, waiting for you to get into position. He roared. You staggered towards him, turning at the last second. Right before the count of three you contorted out of the pin and felt your spine crack back into alignment.
“Thanks,” you mumbled.
The match went on. You were also taking the chance to tease Roman in the ring. At one point you nose-booped him and rolled out of the ring. He looked at you with an expression between ‘you’re going to pay for that’ and ‘just wait until I get you in my bed.’ Either way, your skin buzzed with the possibilities.
You lost in the end, but Roman tugged you to your feet for a handshake. “You’re gonna get checked out, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a chiropractor appointment tomorrow already.”
Backstage, Renee was waiting for you. “Y/N, you lost your match with Roman Reigns, but you don’t seem too upset.”
“No. That was a hell of a match if I say so myself. I’d do that again.”
“You don’t feel any apprehension?”
“Apprehension? No. I’m totally going to be sore in the morning, but it’s worth it.” You thanked her and left to change out. You met with a few other people before heading to the garage.
Roman met you at the car. He took your bags and opened your door. A few minutes down the road he brought up the inevitable. “How’s your back?”
“It’s fine. I talked to a trainer and he’s going to give the chiropractor some other places to touch on. Then I’m going to see a muscle stretcher a few times over the next month to make sure my muscles don’t pull my newly popped bones out of place. Nothing to worry about.”
He whistled. “You can’t scare me like that, baby girl.”
You bit your lip. Reaching out, you ran your hand down his thigh. Roman smiled, but he moved your hand to your lap and changed the subject. As far as you could see, that was the only touching you were going to get. He was always gentle with you, no matter how small the injury was. Even if you didn’t count this as an injury.
When you came out of the bathroom at the hotel, Roman was shirtless in his briefs and sitting against the headboard. He motioned you over. You tried to straddle his hips, but he turned you around to sit between his legs with your back against his chest. That’s when you saw the mirror. It was on the far wall, as wide as the bed, and inspiring.
“Here’s how it’s gonna go,” he rumbled. “You are not going to move. You are not going to touch. And you are going to cum when I say. Which is anytime. Got it?” He watched you nod in the glass. “Let’s try that again, ‘cause I am going to hear you one way or another.” He kissed your temple as you squeaked out something like a yes. “Good.”
Your breathing started to come out in short bursts as Roman slid his large hands up your sides and removed your shirt. They covered your upper chest almost entirely. He breathed deeply and kissed the juncture of your neck, guiding you to relax into him. His hands were warm, even compared to your flushed skin. He kneaded your breasts while sucking a light mark into your neck. You gave a soft whimper when he thumbed your nipples to attention.
Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.
Your nails raked long thin welts into the tops of his thighs. More than anything your body wanted to buck and grind against the sheets for some relief.
“You doing okay, baby girl?”
“Yes,” you breathed.
“Good.” Roman kissed the back of your neck and directed your attention to the mirror. “Look at you. Already strung out and I’ve barely gotten started.” One of his hands dipped lower on your stomach, stopping just above your sleeping shorts. “I bet if I were to check, you’d be dripping already.”
With a whine, you nodded. Your hands twitched and moved from his thighs to yours.
“No touching.” He nipped at your ear and moved your hands back to their original place. “If you can’t behave, I’ve got ways to make you.” His chuckle rumbled against your back. Then his hands were on your chest again, pinching and playing you higher and higher. In the mirror, his eyes latched onto yours. In the shadow you cast over his face, you could just make out a smirk. “You’re doing so good,” he hummed. “Staying still like a good girl. Though I can feel how much you want to move. To close those pretty legs or touch what I’m in control of. You know what would happen if you did any of those things?”
You moaned as his hands slid down your body and came to rest on the inside of your thighs. Oh no, he wouldn’t be so cruel. Right?
“Then this,” he ran a finger up the outside of your shorts, “wouldn’t get touched at all tonight. And you would have to be content to cum just because I’m playing with these perfect tits.” His hands were suddenly back on your breasts, pinching the nipples harder than before. Your legs shivered closed but Roman hooked your ankles under his and dragged them back open. “That’s two, Y/N.”
“Roman, please.” Your head lolled back to lay against his shoulder. You closed your eyes as he ghosted across your sensitive skin. Without thinking, you placed your hands on his and tried to guide them lower.
“That’s three.”
Fuck.
Roman leaned towards the side table and came back with one of your scarves. He held your wrists in front of you, tying them together. When they were secure, he pulled your arms back until your wrists were behind his neck. He caught your gaze in the mirror again, rubbing his scruff against your cheek.
“We’re going to try this one more time. Don’t move. But… you can beg all you like, baby girl.”
He started over. Teasing you with barely-there touches, then with rough squeezes that made you gasp. But you didn’t move. He hummed at your sounds, rewarding you with more of whatever you needed except where you needed it the most. You bit your lip and focused on not letting your back arch. Roman teased one hand further down your stomach.
“Please,” you whispered. “Please let me cum.”
“Nobody’s stopping you.” Roman smirked at your desperate face. “What can I do to help you, Y/N?”
“Touch me.”
“But I am.” To emphasize this, he gave your breast a tight squeeze and gave your shoulder and open-mouthed kiss. “Or did you mean down here?” The hand on your stomach dipped lower to cup your sex, making you jolt. “I thought we talked about this?”
Your mind raced. If you bucked down towards his hand he would make sure you went to bed needy. So your body settled with vibrating with desire. You would have to convince him. “But you love watching me when I cum. You set up the mirror and everything.” You whimpered as he rolled your peaks between his fingers. “I’m so close. Please, Roman. Make me cum. I’ll be good, just stop teasing. Please.” The flame in your belly intensified. Roman’s hand moved under your shorts and curled a finger into your heat. “Like that. Yes. Please, Roman. Feels so good.” Your mouth fell open, unable to form more words.
Roman watched you in the mirror as your eyes fluttered and your body shifted between rigid and limp. “Cum for me. That’s it.” He curled and uncurled, giving you just enough simulation to build with the continuous movements on your breasts to send you over. Your fingers curled into his hair and tugged. He grunted and nipped at your skin in return. “That’s my baby girl. Look at you. Breathless and relaxed. Makes me wonder if you could handle that second round I had planned.”
“Yes,” you pleaded. “I can handle it. Please, Roman?”
“Okay, okay. Just a minute.” Roman unhooked your arms from his neck and released you from the scarf. He massaged your shoulders, rubbing back in feeling you hadn’t realized you had lost. Then he maneuvered out from behind you. He guided you to lay sideways across the end of the bed.
“Wha-“
“Just a second.” He hooked his fingers under the bands of your shorts and bottoms and pulled them down your legs. Then he kneeled and breathed warm air on your soaked folds. You let out a long, low moan as he flattened his tongue against you. One hand he spread across your stomach, making sure you still wouldn’t move. The other he hooked under your ass and lifting you up closer to his face. His slurps and hums were desperate. Like he had been starving for you.
“So good, Ro. Don’t stop.”
Your hands gripped the sheets. You were almost afraid you’d rip them… but there were a lot more important things on your mind at the moment. Like how Roman had shifted his grip on you so his thumb could circle over your clit. Without warning, he sucked hard on your clit.
Don’t arch. Don’t touch. Don’t move.
You couldn’t help but weave your fingers into his hair. Roman didn’t reprimand you. He was too busy shifting again to curl two fingers into you. The need for release built up quickly. His scruff made your inner thighs burn. Your thighs quaked and your breath hesitated in your throat.
“Roman…”
“Cum, Y/N. Come on, baby girl.”
Your toes curled, and your thighs clamped around Roman’s head. His name burst from your lips in a screech. You did your best to catch your breath as he rubbed your thighs until you could relax back into the sheet. He stood but you grabbed at him.
“What about you?” you said with a pout.
“I’ll be fine.”
You reached up and rubbed your hand over his hard length showing prominently through his briefs. “No, you won’t. I can handle it.” You gave him your best puppy eyes. “Please?”
Roman chuckled. “Okay. Roll over, baby girl. It isn’t going to take much.” He helped you onto your stomach and ran his hands up either side of your spine. You watched his movements in the mirror. It made your heart swell to see how gentle was with you. His hands spread your ass cheeks wide. You clenched as his finger trailed up your slick. “Gonna make you scream. You ready?”
“Mhmm.”
“Try again.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Slowly and torturously he teased his head at your slit and worked in inch by eye-crossing inch. You sighed as his warm hand pressed lightly across the small of your back. The other curled under your stomach and lifted you up to your knees. You clenched around him, letting him know when you were adjusted. In the mirror, you saw his eyes close and his head tilt back. You could hear how strained his voice was as he moaned above you. Slow. Targeting. Each thrust had a purpose and each made you yelp. And cry out. And yes, scream. And you could tell he was holding back.
“Tell me you’re close, baby.”
“Yes. Cum, Roman. Ro-“ Words failed you as Roman reached once again for your clit. You came with a hoarse cry, collapsing forward.
Roman pulled out and covered your back with his cum. His muscles flexed all over his body, shiny in the reflection with a thin sheen of sweat. He braced on the bed on either side of your hips to catch his breath.
You blinked in and out of exhaustion. He left and came back with a damp towel and cleaned you off. You sighed as he gave you a little massage. The world shifted as he picked you up to move you back to the pillows. He crawled in behind you and pulled the sheets over you. His arm rested on your hip, rubbing his thumb across your skin.
“When you get back from the doc tomorrow, we’re going to check how well they did. Make sure those muscles are really worked out.”
You looked towards the mirror. Even the reflection couldn’t do justice to how excited you were.
The PPV has arrived, and titles are destined to change hands. It’s just a matter of which ones. Then on Monday night, there’s the fallout. Threats are made and alliances are put to the test.
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, reader involved, some blood (just a tiny bit and you really won’t mind who), so much talking (got to build to the next big thing!)
Word Count: 5450 (sorry, lots to cover)
Note: Okay, so the reader’s match came out super epic and a bit long. Hopefully, you guys think it’s worth the space! (Please let me know if you do.) Any and all feedback will be loved and appreciated. Tag lists and requests open as always. Enjoy!
The wrestling highlight of the summer started on a high note. Elias was in position, his Intercontinental Championship on his waist, and his commissioned matching guitar on his knee. He didn’t fill the air with petty words. Not that he would have been heard over the insistent ‘Walk With Elias’ chants that made his chest swell with pride.
“I can feel you startin’ to get it. No longer the lost, no longer the same, and I can see you starting to ascend. I’ll keep you alive, I’ll show you the way, forever and ever. Here is your sign to anyone not from Brooklyn.” The crowd quickly turned on him, but he was finished. Nothing more to give to ‘the city pictured next to the definition of a waste of space.’
The stage screens shifted as Baron Corbin’s music began to play. Brooklyn didn’t like him much better, but at the moment they held him higher than Elias. Techies quickly took Elias’s things away so the two men could circle one another. Jojo announced the championship match and the bell rang.
Elias made the first move. As many times as he could, he knocked Baron to the canvas. Six feet versus six-eight wasn’t the worst thing, but Elias was not going to allow any benefits. He kept his opponent constantly on the defense. Occasionally, Baron would separate himself enough to catch his breath. Elias would knock it right back out of him with stomach kicks and choke holds.
His body bounced under the ropes, then Baron swung around the ring post, coming up behind a winded and unsuspecting Elias. Baron knocked him to his knees. He continued to return the favor of his earlier beating. In this round, Baron had to ensure Elias couldn’t pick up any speed or grab hold of him and cripple him with his strength. He picked Elias up for a deep six, but he spun out and turned the maneuver into a DDT in his favor.
The upper hand had shifted again. From there, it was too difficult to see who maintained it. Each man was a fantastic athlete, and each was willing to do anything to leave the ring with the white and gold. Baron was stranded on top of a corner, giving Elias the chance to jump up and flip him over onto his back. Elias wobbled to his feet and Baron hopped on his back, attempting to take him down with a chokehold. Elias backed him up to another corner, forcing Baron to step high and into Elias’s trap. Baron’s legs got caught over Elias’s shoulders just before he was flipped around and finished with a halo powerbomb.
The Intercontinental Champion had successfully defended his title once again.
***
The match for the Raw Women’s Championship was next in line for the red brand. Nia Jax entered the arena alone, proud and strong as ever. Rhonda Rousey entered with Natalya Hart, who gave her one last hug for luck before leaving to watch the match from backstage. Both looked at the belt as the ref raised it high, both wide-eyed as if dreaming a trip to the moon for the first time.
Having fought before, the women were acquainted with the other’s usual first steps. Rhonda knew better than to try for another arm-bar. Nia knew better than to get to close too soon.
“Have I put enough work in, yet?” Rhonda asked.
Nia smiled and readied her stance. “We’ll know by the end of the match.”
Rhonda did much better this time around. She was patient. She never had her back to Nia. And she waited for Nia’s weaknesses to show before making her move. Nia was impressed. Rhonda continued to evade her advances and step ahead of her plans. The match was adding up towards a cerebral battle as much as a physical one.
And it was frustrating.
The match ended when Rhonda fell back into her old habits. The habits that never worked on Nia. As a result, Nia retained her belt. She held the red and white belt up high while Rhonda slapped at the canvas. She refused Nia’s hand and stood by herself, fuming.
“So close,” Nia said, unbothered by Rhonda’s glare. “You’ve been putting in the work, and it shows. But tonight, it still wasn’t enough.”
***
You were nervous. Scratch that. You were terrified. All the training, the working out, the rage that had burned through you, none of it felt real until this moment. Roman and Seth were already on the stage staring down the crew in the ring. Dean was by your side, bouncing.
“Do you want to go out to your own music, or come out with me?” He slowed his movements to a hyper vibrating to wait for your answer.
“No. You got me music, and this is the only time I’m going to get to use it. So I’m going to use it.” You nodded once and hard. Hopefully, he couldn’t see how your hands were shaking. He left to his music, and you soon followed.
Anybody could hit anybody. You knew Mickie was going to use that as much as she could. As for you, it would be lucky if you could hold your own with anyone.
The rhythm started out quick. Seth and Mojo started the fight with no discussion. Both were quick, but Mojo’s football days came into play and he tossed Seth across the ring into your corner. Roman tagged in and tried his hand, successfully running Mojo out of the ring so Drew could rotate in. The rotations continued, and you hoped it would never end. Then Mickie tagged in. Although anyone could hit anyone, she motioned for you to participate. You gulped and let Dean tag you, then slowly made your way through the ropes.
Mickie grinned. Like a lioness toying with a field mouse. She rushed at you and you did your best to stay your ground. Still, her power lock forced you back into ropes. You yelped as she grabbed your hair and tossed you into the center of the ring.
Keep moving. Don’t stop. Can’t get caught. Dodge, dip, and roll.
Unbeknownst to you, Dolph sneaked into the ring behind the ref and behind you. Dean scurried in to help. He bounced off the ropes closest to you and flew into Dolph, knocking him to the floor. You and the ref were distracted as the other two took out Seth and Roman on the apron and engaged them in a quick bout that left your teammates unavailable for tagging. Mickie rushed you and pinned you in her corner while tagging Dolph. You spun out as quickly as you could, finding yourself like a lone island as Dolph sauntered into the ring and Mickie made sure Dean was down.
“Shall we, sweetheart?”
Oh, you were going to knock that smug look right off his face. And you would have if Seth hadn’t made it to the corner. Biting your lip and eyeing Dolph, you tagged him and shrugged. The match got back to normal with few interruptions. You even began to enjoy yourself. At one point you poked Dean in the side. “This buzz is what you feel every week? How do you not explode?” You alternated cheering on the guys and taking your turn eagerly as well as you could. The oncoming storm was inevitable, so part of you knew neither Drew, Mojo, or Mickie was going to pin you. It wasn’t their pin. And you were getting antsy to end it.
“Shall we? Ziggler?” You tripped Drew on his way by, causing him to fall in their corner. He rolled over to lean against the turnbuckles and lifted up his hand so Dolph could tag in. Your team was exhausted. His team was exhausted. You both were breathing heavily. If was going to be ever, it had to be now.
He’d been holding out. Dolph mixed his skill with every trick in the book.
And you had been trained by the Architect, the Big Dog, those Woken, and those just looking to kick lass with Flair. Schooled by the archivist and statistics manager of Titus World Wide. And above all else: you were a ‘come up swingin’ Ambrose.
Jumping off the middle rope, you spun in the air and punched Dolph in the chin as hard as you could. He fell like a log. For a split second, you were frozen. Waking up, you rolled over the top of him for the pin.
One. Two. Three.
The guys joined you in the ring. Your celebrating was interrupted by grumbling coming from the mat. You saw blonde wobble into view over Seth’s shoulder. They parted in front of you, giving you the space to superkick Dolph. You stepped to one side to feel the cheers of the crowd wash over you. The ring shivered as Dolph was triple power bombed. When you turned back around, the guys were holding their fists together over Dolph’s body.
Then they shared a look, and Roman nodded at you.
You looked between each of their faces, Dolph, and the fist bump. Anxiously you glanced at Dean who gave you a big grin and inched over. Curling your fingers together, you added your fist to the group. Your cheeks hurt from squelching the smile that threatened to erupt and your leg bounced with the excess excitement. But one more look up at Dean sent you flying. You felt yourself smiling but only registered the supreme bliss you felt.
The pose broke apart with Dean clapping his hand on your back. He chuckled when you wrapped your arms around his waist. You wouldn’t have let go any time soon except he began to muss up your hair.
“Dean! No- ahhh!” Dean lifted you into the air and threw you over the ropes to Roman, who caught you despite your scrambling to wrap your arms around his neck for stability. “Shit! Why?” Once back on the ground, you took a deep breath. “Damn, it’s like I’m five years old again.”
Seth laughed. “Like a cat.” Dean joined him on the floor.
“Hey, can’t blame me for flashbacks. What the hell, Dean?”
Dean shrugged and wrapped his arm over your shoulder once Roman put you down. “I’ve got you back. Now I’m never going to lose you again. I promise.”
***
The Braun Strowman versus Brock Lesnar match went as most people thought it would. Someone in the crowd even had a giant whiteboard with tally-marks for each suplex and F-5.
And Braun was pissed.
Everyone agreed it was rightfully so. He’d fought to this chance and now he was going to take each missed day as possible champion out of Lesnar’s hide. Those two moves were not going to be enough to hold back the monster among men this time. Lesnar’s pride and accolades couldn’t save him. Paul Heyman yelled and screamed from ringside, directing his client in ways that ended badly. The spokesperson held his head in his hands, already fearing the fallout. If Lesnar was going to go, he wasn’t going to go without completely decimating his opponent. Several times Braun was at risk of failing to answer to a ten count from outside the ring. And several more trying to get to his feet inside the ring. By the end, he couldn’t lift his boots higher than Lesnar’s knees, though that was enough considering Lensar’s exhaustion. A weak powerslam would have to do.
There was a second of silence as Braun held Lesnar down for the count of three. Then there was pandemonium.
Braun was kneeling and had the belt in his hands.
Then the stage pulsed with red light.
For a second time, the crowd erupted. Finn Balor raced down the ramp with his contract in hand. He passed it to the referee, slapping his hand against it. The ref passed it towards the techies and nodded for Jojo to make the announcement.
“Finn Balor is cashing in his Money in the Bank Contract.”
Finn ripped off his jacket, leaving him in his bright red shorts and hands that looked like they had been dipped in blood. A bright eye watched his back from between his shoulder blades.
Braun was gasping for breath and didn’t even have the energy to deny the ref ripping the Universal Title from his hands. He made it to his feet and took a deep breath. Turning, he ran right into Finn’s assault. The destructive patterns suggested that it was not fully Finn in the ring.
However he did it, Braun fell in front of a corner. Balor eyed the crowd with a wicked grin and raced to the top of the ring post. He Coup de Gras-ed the last of Braun’s oxygen out of his chest.
One. Two. Three.
Balor snatched the title and laughed. He showed it to each side of the ring. On the floor, Brock Lensar was laughing, his lip bleeding slightly. Braun wasn’t doing anything. Except trying to breathe again. Balor took this all in with the brightest smile on his face. He ran up the ramp to the stage.
With both functioning arms, Balor lifted the belt above his head. His at last, no matter the cost.
***
Monday Night Raw – August 20, 2018 – Brooklyn, NY
“Style and grace, I’m never gonna be done. Lean on in. Now Welcome to the Queendom.”
Stephanie McMahon walked down to the ring. ‘Walked’ was too delicate a word. It was something closer to stomping but veiled in having complete control. Her fingers tapped at her elbow where her arms were crossed. “Summer Slam was a hit.” She was not pleased, though the crowd agreed with her. “Titles were retained. And titles changed hands. Which brings us to the most pressing matter at hand. Mr. Angle. If you could come out here, please.”
He did. Hesitantly but with shoulders rolled back.
“Last night Brock Lesnar lost to Braun Strowman.” She was unable to continue for a minute as the crowd reacted. “-to Braun Strowman. Who then immediately lost it to Finn Balor. Mr. Angle, if could explain yourself, that would be greatly appreciated.”
Kurt was confused. “What do I need to explain? You just-“
“You need to explain why you demanded Brock Lesnar’s attendance that resulted in his loss of the Universal Title.”
“Because he is a champion. And as such he has specific obligations to the WWE Universe, such as defending it. There are rules as to how often that’s supposed to happen… but Brock hasn’t been made to stick to that by. Not as often as he should have. What happened yesterday was the inevitable.”
Stephanie chuckled. “Kurt, Kurt, that’s a big word for mistake.” She paced to the ropes and back. “Because of Finn Balor’s cash in of his contract, he cut out the possibility of Brock Lesnar’s rematch. And, as such, he would have to earn an opportunity-“
“Like every other wrestler.” Kurt chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a sight. The Beast incarnate having to fight like a common employee of this company. Such a terrible thought,” he mocked.
She nodded with pursed lips. “And Brock Lesnar doesn’t have time for that. He has made his final arrangements with the UFC and will be competing with them in the future. We had hoped that he could be the first to be champion of both, but your leadership shortcomings have ruined that.”
This was sounding like a different announcement than what Kurt had assumed. “Stephanie, I have been very clear with my leadership. I think if you would explain what you’re saying it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Brock Lesnar will no longer be competing in the WWE.” Stephanie stood fuming until the ruckus was starting to die down. “You have cost the company a great asset, Kurt. You overstepped your bounds as manager and now your ability to continue in your position is… under scrutiny. More so than it was before.”
Kurt nodded and took a deep breath. “To be a manager is to constantly put the needs of the wrestlers before my own. The time and energy it takes to wrangle the conflicting egos alone is enough to lose sleep over. Often managers have to get involved in matches. Like your brother has repeatedly. Like you and your husband, Triple H, have done. Like I did with Rhonda Rousey in Wrestlemania this year. She’s not under your thumb and now Brock Lesnar is no longer in your control. My ‘ablity’ is only under scrutiny because you’re mad that you will actually have to put in an effort to do right by your wrestlers.” He turned and bent to step out of the ring.
“Don’t you want away from me. Can’t you hear what I’m saying? You are at a high risk of losing your job. If that happens I will be finding your replacement. You may not like who I chose, so I suggest you do better if you care about ‘doing right’ by our wrestlers so much. I know you know how to do your job. You did once. We’d all like to see it again.”
“What more can I do, Stephanie?” he yelled. Planting his feet and sighing, he continued more in control. “What more can we do? For now, we both have a lot of thinking to do.” He finally left the ring, unsure about several things.
***
Despite the stiff tension that had just left the ring, Elias was proud and ready to perform. He sat on his stool and smiled brightly at the crowd.
“Another concert. Another retained championship. No matter the tune, the song stays the same. After all, WWE stands for?” He laughed as they responded enthusiastically. “Yes. Even here in this cockroach ridden hole of a town called Brooklyn. And most of those are sitting in this arena.” Elias played his guitar over the sounds of an unhappy audience. He sang one song. And after he had received praise, he sang another. “Know that tonight you are blessed. For I have been given a whole hour to give you all the concert that you need to hear.” He was beginning to play a third when music from the stage interrupted him.
“No. No. No. These people don’t need your music if you can honestly call it that.” Curt Hawkins strutted down the ramp. “What they deserve to see is the end of my losing streak. And on top of that, my first WWE championship win.”
“Your what?”
Curt smiled and entered the ring. He pointed his baton at Elias. “You heard me. Jojo, if you would.” He walked past Elias and handed his baton and mic to a techie on the floor. By the time he turned around to shadowbox, the guitar was swinging towards his face. He fell like a stone that had a tree dropped on it.
“Do not interrupt me!” Elias stomped around and crashed his guitar into the canvas next to Curt’s head. “I wish people would stop interrupting me. Every week. Every week!” He gave one last irritated kick to Curt’s side and left the ring.
***
“Kurt, listen to me,” Kevin Owens huffed and tried to keep his manager’s attention. A manager who was signing some things on your clipboard and gritting his teeth in frustration. “The Shield is not your friend. I know you fought with them last year a bit. But they… they… they’re friends with Finn Balor. That guy that’s got your job on the line. Let me challenge him-”
“Kevin, I really don’t have time for this. Do you have a point?”
Before he could answer, Elias stormed into Kurt’s office. Kevin ducked as he swung the guitar around. “Kurt, if you don’t do something about people interrupting me-“
“Man, nobody cares about your music.” Kevin tried to step back into Kurt’s focus. “Now, Kurt-“
Elias turned Kevin around and raised his splintered guitar. “Owens, if you don’t get out of my way-“
“Hey!” You passed Kurt your clipboard and stepped between the two men. “You two are better men than this. I’ve never seen you act like it.” You shook your head and your hands and tried to clear the air. “Doesn’t matter. Kevin. Get out.” He stared you down until Elias growled. Then he left in a hurry, leaving you to pop back into reality of where you were standing. “Okay. Um. The problem at hand. Right.” You glanced at Kurt and shrugged. “What about a concert series?”
“What?” they chorused.
“A, um, a series? A tournament? Maybe before each match, you can sing about your opponents, or about the city, we’ll be in. Or just play. I know how the muse can be fickle when the environment is unfriendly.” You took a second to breathe. Why did your heart feel like it was going to fly out of your chest? “Then, Mr. Angle, that keeps several of the guys busy. It’ll be an opportunity for the Intercontinental Championship, so they’ll be happy. Elias, you’ll get to show off your musical skills and more of your ring prowess. And hopefully, that will be fewer people complaining back to you, Mr. Angle.”
You waited on baited breath as the men hummed in thought.
“I like this.” Elias stepped past you and gave Kurt a hard pat on the shoulder. “Make it so.” He turned to leave but snapped as if remembering something. “If you’re still around next week.”
Behind you, you heard a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You know, you’re really good with quick thinking.” He handed you back your clipboard with a smile.
***
Nia Jax stood in the ring, waiting to pummel her local talent for the evening. The woman’s name was a blip in her memory and barely lasted five minutes past the bell. After the three count, she took her title from the ref and a mic.
“Here’s how things are going to go,” she started. “I am Raw women’s champion. Nobody has succeeded in changing that, and nobody is going to any time soon. I am the top of the women’s division. I proved that at Summer Slam against Rhonda Rousey; I can prove it time and time again. Tonight-“
The opening beats of Alexa Bliss’s music cut through the arena. “Now hang on just a second.” She planted her feet on the stage and smirked at Nia. “Sure. You proved it ‘this time.’ But acting like you’re going to hold onto it forever. Psh. Honey, you are not that good. You’ve got the power and the strength and the ring awareness, I’ll give you that. But you are not a goddess.”
“Is that so?” Nia sucked her teeth. “You know, I’d rather be me than a goddess who screams and runs at the first sign of real power.”
Alexa glowered at the ring and at the audience agreeing with the champion. “I know when to lose the battle so I can win the war. Unlike your opponent last night. Rhonda’s been here learning the ropes, but not the field. You haven’t had real competition in-“
Rhonda’s music played next. Alexa scurried down to ringside while Nia groaned. “You got something to say, little miss Bliss? Then you can say it to my face. You may be the goddess of WWE, but I’ve got skills unique to me. Ones that could easily pin you. I know I’m new. I get that every time I get pinned for some stupid mistake.” She shifted her focus to Nia. “Ones that I won’t be making again.”
Shaking her finger, Alexa said, “Nu-uh. You lost to Nia again. You’ve got to go to the back of the line now. And let others more skilled and tested than you get their chance.” She rolled into the ring as Rhonda walked down the ramp. She avoided bumping into Nia then realized she was outnumbered.
She was saved by the peppy intro for the Riott Squad. The trio circled the ring, then Ruby stepped up onto the apron. “You know. I think I agree with Rousey. It is easy to pin Alexa.” She laughed. “All you gotta do is corner her and leave her with no place to run. But to take out Rhonda? Hit her in the ring awareness. No one was going to hop the octagon fence and attack from behind, but here? You’ve always got to have someone watching your back.” She smiled wickedly as Liv Morgan reached out and tugged on Rhonda’s ponytail from behind. “As for Nia? Well. Like we learned from Alexa: hit her in the heart.” The three of them hopped through the ropes and froze as more music hit.
Bayley came out. And was promptly interrupted by Sasha Banks. The second woman had just passed the first on the stage when Alicia’s music played. Then Mickie’s. The two new women linked arms and bumped their way past the two former best friends.
“Enough!” Nia took her position back in the center of the ring. “If anybody had been listening, I was going to announce how any of you could earn a chance at this title.” She looked left and right to all the women who had joined her in the ring. “Next week, there is going to be a gauntlet match. I don’t care how you pick who the first two women will be, but the last woman standing will get a championship match at Hell in a Cell. We are the future, ladies. So let’s show the world what we are willing to give.”
She dropped the mic and left for the exit, carrying her belt high over her head.
***
You had to interview Kevin next. Apparently, some of his complainings had gotten through to Kurt because he wanted you to find out his plans for Hell in a Cell.
“Plans?” Kevin scoffed. “My plans are my own. And with management up in the air, I’m going to be making them myself. But enough about me.” He stole your mic and changed his stance as if announcing the weather. “We know a little about your history, but what about your thoughts on how Summer Slam went for you. How did you enjoy your first pay per view in-ring action?”
You sighed. “Well-“
“For someone as inexperienced as you, you did pretty well. But for someone who had all those legendary trainers and the like, you didn’t do as well as you could have.”
“At least I had a match at Summer Slam. Not bad, right?” You reached for your mic, but he held it past your reach.
“Honestly, I can’t blame you. Three of your teachers aren’t what they used to be. Rollins lost his spunk when he lost the Intercontinental to Elias. Roman has been running himself to death to please people who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And Dean…” Kevin barked a laugh. “Did Dean ever have his mind to begin with?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “Right. Like you’ve never destroyed the one good thing in your career by stabbing it in the back. Oh wait, I read Dana’s notes. You’ve done that several times, haven’t you?”
Kevin’s knuckles turned white around the mic handle. He bared his teeth and stepped to you, then a large hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Roman tightened his grip on Kevin’s shoulder. Dean swung around and plunked the mic from his hands to give it back to you. Seth took a position on Kevin’s other side.
“I’m good. Kevin was just telling me how much he liked our match yesterday.”
He ground his teeth. “No. I… your match a catastrophe. Chaos everywhere. And you,” he shoved a finger into your face, “you only got the pin with a lucky punch. If that had failed, these three wouldn’t have been able to help you. These shadows did nothing but suck you into trouble.”
Dean lowered Kevin’s hand out of your face. “And you’re talking yourself into trouble. Again.”
Kevin puffed, shrugging Roman’s grip off his shoulder. “Again? Not that the trouble was all that much before, right Ambrose? You’re to busy being happy about being back with your brothers that you can’t see the damage. None of you could give me enough trouble even to wind me. Not even the big dog himself.”
Oh, there was a thought.
“Hey, why not?” They all looked at you. “Mr. Owens, you were looking for a match tonight.” You smiled and motioned around. “Pick one. Mr. Angle signed that you could have a match. Said you could have someone in your corner too.”
Seth nodded. “Yeah. And the other two could be on commentary. Haven’t done that in a while,” he said to himself.
Kevin realized with a start that he was surrounded with no way to get out. His Adam apple bobbed. You watched bemused as the wheels in his head turned at full power. “Not that it matters,” he said. “Roman. Good a match as any.” He twisted and ducked to get away.
***
Down the hall, Kevin caught his breath. He stepped faster as he spotted some possible ring help. “You guys aren’t doing anything tonight, right?”
Dolph Ziggler and Drew McIntyre were sitting on a crate discussing something on Dolph’s phone. Mojo was close by, lacing up his boots. He turned and walked the other way as Kevin approached. Dolph and Drew could not make as quick as an escape.
“Hold it right there.” Dolph stood. “We are not going out to the ring. Not with you.”
“Why not?”
Drew snickered. “Our plans are our own.” They laughed at Kevin’s desperate face and left to find a new scheming spot.
***
Seth and Dean had a lot of fun on commentary. Roman had fun in the ring. Kevin did not have fun. Even when he gained the upper hand for a minute or two, he was still working defense in an effort to catch up.
Kevin left the ring and took the loss by count-out. This was not the match he wanted. And he was not going to waste his energy on it any further.
The Shield was more than happy to mock him on his way out of the arena.
***
The mood of Braun Strowman was nothing like it had been on Sunday. The only thing more terrifying than a pacing monster was one who stood still and held an almost unblinking gaze.
“During Summer Slam, the earlier part of it, I was in control of my own fate.” Braun’s chest heaved with a steadying breath. “If I had failed to pin Brock Lesnar, it would have been because of my own lack of skill. But I didn’t. I won the Universal Championship with my own two hands. I held the title with these same hands and had the world at my feet. And then…” He growled and rolled his neck. “Then it was taken from me.” He turned to the stage. “Finn Balor, I want my rematch!”
The crow cheered, then cheered louder as Finn’s face showed up on the titantron.
He giggled. “I have to thank you, Braun. Because of how things went last night, I’m not the shortest reigning Universal Champion anymore. You are.” He stroked the title hanging over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you come down here so we can fix that?” Braun dropped his mic.
“Of course.” The screen flickered. Finn’s face was cast in red light and shadow before disappearing.
In the arena, red lights pulsed on the stage. The smoke rose and the music started. Balor emerged. Dreds and ribbons and blood-red hands crawled their way down to the ring with the Universal title around the waist of the demon king.
Braun backed into the lower corner. This wasn’t going to scare him. He’d once been a Wyatt.
It should have though.
Balor was unlike anything Braun had ever fought before. Where Finn was predictable due to his tried and tested methods, Balor was just as unpredictable. He moved differently. Hit differently. Spotted and took advantage of weaknesses differently. Braun did the best he could. But he hit a wall. Sunday’s match took its pound of flesh and left the mangled remains to Balor to play with. The Monster knew he was in trouble when the demon didn’t want to play; he wanted to retain his crown. Every aching muscle, every strained limb was a target.
One. Two. Three.
Balor crawled back to the stage with his prize. He stood and held it high. Reigning and defended.
Warnings/Promises: name-calling (slut and the like), SMUT, spanking, hair pulling, begging, orgasm control
Word Count: 1540
Note: I hope this what you wanted, anon. It took me a minute to get the writing ball rolling, but then it tumbled down a mountain and this was at the bottom. Super smutty. My requests are still open, and all my tag lists. Have fun reading!
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you sneakin’ out?” AJ slammed the door behind him and threw the keys into the bowl, uncaring when they flew out from the force. “I couldn’t find you after the show and thought the worst.”
You dropped your purse on a surface. “It was just drinks with the ladies. It had been a while.”
“Y’all went out last week. And you were just with them.”
“Yeah, at work! When football season hits we’ll have all your friends here on Friday and Sunday nights for months. People that you also see on Tuesdays. How is this any different?”
“Fine. But could you at least not dress like that?”
“Like what?” You twirled in your favorite little black dress, the backless one with red tulle underneath. “These are clothes approved by you.”
“Yeah, for me only. You know I don’t like it when other guys can look at you and… daydream. You’re my daydream.”
“You’re right. I do know.”
“So, you’re goin’ to stop sneakin’ out?”
“No. It means I’m going to do more not to get caught.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.
“Y/N stop acting like a child.”
“Me?” You crossed your arms with a huff. “You’re the one using the same argument we had all through high school. And Japan. You knew how much time I want to spend with my friends when you married me. AJ, honey, I love you. But you are such an asshole sometimes.”
“I can’t help it if you dress like a slut all the time.”
You raised your hand to slap him, but he caught your wrist. The pictures on the wall behind you rattled as he slammed you into it, his other hand forceful on your stomach. His eyes were bright and his breath was hot on your neck. You shivered as he leaned close, pressing his body to yours.
“You want to try that again, sweetheart?”
AJ let go of your wrist and took a step back. You gave him a weak shove and tried to walk away, but his arms caught around your waist. When you attempted to elbow his ribs, he adjusted to pin down your arms. He walked you forward to the couch and tilted you over the armrest. With one hand, he restricted you from fighting back. In your struggle, your skirt flew up over your ass. AJ gasped when he saw your red lacy underwear. He made them snap against your skin.
“And I thought we agreed these were never to leave the house, hmm?” The playful growl in his voice made you squeeze your thighs together. He kicked your stance back open, ignoring how difficult it was to stand in heels. “Y/N.”
Your mouth suddenly dry, you tried one more time to wriggle out of his grasp. He pressed close behind you, thrusting his crotch into your backside. It made you shiver to feel how hard he was. “AJ,” you moaned. You yelped as he slapped your ass. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes. You are going to be.” He gripped at the globes of your ass. “Hmm, do I want you to count tonight. Or do I want you to beg?” You waited on baited breath for him to answer his own question. You jumped as he ran his fingernails over your exposed skin. “Begging. Nice and loud sweetheart.” He gave you a test slap, one that wouldn’t even redden your skin.
“More,” you whimpered. He slapped you again, harder. “Yes, please, more.” There were two quick slaps, one to each side. Your knees almost buckled. But then, that was probably why he had leaned you over the armrest. “Just like that.”
AJ slid your lace off your hips and let you step out of it. Then he continued. It was only another two rounds or so, but your voice was already hoarse and your skin was on fire. You wobbled on your heels until AJ had you take those off, which made you more reliant on his grip on your wrists for balance. AJ spread your cheeks for a peek. “Well, well,” he chuckled. He teased two fingers towards your heat. “What do we have here? Does my little slut like being punished? Maybe we should do it all night.”
“No. AJ. Need you. Please.”
“Now you need me. Maybe I don’t need you.” He thrust his length into your sensitive sex again. “Maybe I’ll take care of this myself.”
You fell forward, shaking your head. You didn’t like that idea at all. A hand twisted into your hair and tugged your face back up.
“Is that what you want? I could always repeat what we did that one time. Tied you to the chair and made you watch while I jerked myself off. My personal whore didn’t get anything, didn’t deserve or earn a single drop.” He turned you around to sit on the edge. “Tell me. What do you think I should do?”
Desperately, you wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t do that again. Not tonight. Touch me. Love me. Use me. Please.”
He silenced you with a kiss that made your teeth clack together. He bruised your lips, nipped at them, and dominated your mouth with his tongue. All the while he directed you to walk towards your room. When the bed finally bumped into the back of your legs, he stepped back, breathless just as much as you.
“If that dress isn’t gone in two seconds I’m going to rip it off.”
You slid it off as quickly as you could, then moved to sink to your knees. AJ caught you and pushed you onto the bed. He stripped and crawled over you. His thighs pinned your arms to your sides while his length bobbed in front of your face. You yelped as he roughly kneaded your breasts. He pinched your nipples into throbbing peaks. He noticed your gaze following his cock.
“You want it? Want to be my cock slut?”
“Yes, AJ,“ you dutifully opened your mouth.
He teased the head around your lips before shoving it past them. Using hollowing and sucking, you worked quickly. You ravished in the weight of his weight on your tongue. It was probably going to cost you, but you hesitantly used teeth in the way you knew would make him… yes. Would make him moan and growl just like that. His breathing was starting to come out in bursts. Given another minute or two, he would cum. You whined as he pulled away and crawled down your body.
“Oh, no. Not going to give it to you that easily.” He took a deep breath. “Open your legs, Y/N.”
You complied.
With a nod, he smiled. “There it is. The best way to make sure you pay attention. That gorgeous dripping pussy.” He reached forward and curled two fingers into your heat, rapidly pumping them. He snickered as you mewled. “So easy to play you. Make you sing and whimper and make every sound under the sky. And only I can make you do this.”
You cried out as the rush of pleasure was about to overtake you. AJ pulled away and slapped your lips. He positioned himself between your legs and pulled one of your knees over his shoulder. He sheathed in one go, pushing all the air out of your body. His body shivered as your walls rushed to adjust. Taking another second, he pulled almost completely out and slammed back in. You screamed. It broke apart each time he repeated the action.
AJ growled. “You’re mine. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours. Oh,” you panted, “I’m only yours.”
“Tell me, who do you belong to?”
“You. You, AJ.”
“Damn right you do.”
He reached forward and dipped his thumb in your leaking juices. He spread them harshly on your clit. He chuckled as your eyes crossed before squinting shut. The snapping of your hips rattled your whole body. Your thighs began to quiver, waiting for him to tell you could let go.
“If you want to cum, Y/N, you better do it soon. ‘Cause when I cum, I’m done. So get there.”
That was all the invitation you needed. You met him thrust for thrust and toyed with your breasts. Your body went rigid as you came, whiting out your vision. AJ fucked you through it. His eventual release made your walls clamp down again, milking his cock. He fell forward and steadied himself on his forearms. You laid boneless under him.
A minute later he had a cup of cool water at your lips and didn’t leave until it was empty. He cleaned you up and pulled the covers over you both as he slid in next to you. You curled towards his chest, humming as he stroked your hair. His chest heaved like it did when he was trying to say something.
“We can talk about this more in the morning, but… in the future… just, talk to me. Tell me when you’re going out. Please, don’t scare me like that.” He hugged you close, gripping you like you would turn to dust if he let go.
Our Deepest Desires 