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shanie-the-toyaddict · 3 years

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A Sami and Kevin Fanfic

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4070 Words No Pairings Present (Zowens if you squint)

As Kevin lays in a hospital bed after Money in the Bank, he finds himself confronted by one Sami Zayn. But has Sami come to gloat? To enjoy Kevin's suffering yet again?

Or is there something else motivating his visit?

No violence or smut, but there is some foul language so, Rated T?

The worst thing about ladder matches was the fucking ladders.

Well, maybe not the ladders themselves; ladders were a useful tool in everyday life and carried no ill will of their own. But when you put them in the hands of the type of angry, violent assholes who filled the locker room of the WWE, it never ended well.

To be fair, Kevin Owens was one of those angry, violent assholes and he was happy to use the ladders to commit such acts himself but as he lay in a hospital bed in Fort Worth Texas battered, beaten, and with an injured neck that didn’t want to work courtesy of Seth Rollins powerbombing him through one of said ladders, he couldn’t help but curse the existence of the damn things.

Still, he wasn’t in much pain. He wasn’t feeling much of anything, really. Kevin was never one for painkillers outside the hospital; he'd been in the industry long enough to know that they could lead you down a dark path of no return and that was the last thing he wanted for himself or his family. But, as long as he was in the hospital, they were fine. Plus, if you got yourself into enough trouble to wind up in a hospital bed, you were likely at a point where they were a necessity.

This was one of those times.

On top of the painkillers, he was tired, so tired. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but it couldn’t have been long. Two days at the most. They’d taken the neck brace off at some point, although they’d warned him to try not to move his head much. He’d been sleeping on and off ever since arriving, but it never seemed to help. He wanted to sleep more, the utter exhaustion from the past few months having caught up with him.

His body was broken. Between his injured arm, his injured knee, and now his injured neck, he was ready for a vacation. He’d intended on taking one several weeks back but Sami, that infuriating bastard, couldn’t be left alone for more than a week. Kevin had been drawn back in again, this time for a Last Man Standing match, in an effort to end Sami’s reign of terror once and for all.

It hadn’t worked. He’d beaten Sami down until he couldn’t get up again, sure. But his original goal of fixing Sami went unfulfilled, and Kevin realized it always would. You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped and it was clear Sami didn’t want his help. He was too deranged and paranoid to see that Kevin gave a damn and, whatever, it was what it was. Kevin was shit at trying to help people anyway, he had no idea what made him think he could help Sami in the first place.

Best just to leave him to his insanity. He’d burn himself out eventually.

Hopefully.

Still, a break was a break, nearly literally in this case, and as he lay in the hospital bed half asleep, he couldn’t help but think that the room would be better with company. And as he stared up at the ceiling of the hospital room, contemplating another nap, he got his wish... in the worst way possible.

Kevin heard him before he saw him.

“You're an asshole, Kevin Owens,” he heard the voice say as he entered the room.

Kevin’s eyes shifted over to look towards the door.

Yep, it was definitely Sami Zayn, as bitter as ever.

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut.

Great, he thought, completely disgusted, the last fucking person I wanted to see.

“Go away,” he grumbled. His voice was raspy and weak and it only served to piss him off more. Being weak was never something Kevin tolerated from himself and being weak in front of Sami? Unacceptable.

Still, Kevin knew he didn’t have the strength left for the appropriate amount of rage warranted, so he would just have to make do with what he could give. Staring up at the ceiling once more, Kevin responded.

“I’m not dealing with your shit today,” he told Sami. “I’m tired. Whatever the hell you want, it can wait till Friday.”

A chuckle escaped Sami’s throat as he replied, “Oh, and I care so much about what you want. Really, I do. Oh, hang on, no I don't.”

Kevin sighed. If he’d had the strength, he’d already be out of his bed, strangling the lunatic. It was true that Kevin cared about Sami, but as he’d stated before, Sami wasn't Sami anymore. At the very least, he wasn’t his Sami. His Sami was an angel, kind, loving, protective, and all the things that Kevin secretly wished the powers of the universe had given him the capacity to be. But this new Sami? He was one big ball of psycho and just being around the bastard made Kevin want to throttle him.

But the truth was, there was nothing he could do about Sami being there. Sure, he could call the nurse to have him removed, but Sami would just cause a scene like he always did, and Kevin didn’t need any more stress. The best option was to ignore him until he went away.

He closed his eyes once more and said nothing.

Fuck him, he thought.

He feeds off attention. Don’t give it to him.

Kevin heard Sami drag a chair across the floor to sit down beside him.

“Besides,” Sami said, “I’m loving the look. You stuck in a hospital bed? It’s such a wonderful birthday present. A bit late, but really, great job, Kevin. A for effort. You outdid yourself this year.”

There was something about the tone in Sami’s voice, something that Kevin couldn’t quite put his finger on. Kevin pushed it from his mind. Whatever new flavor of insanity Sami had brewing he didn’t care.

Still, Sami didn’t shut up.

“I mean, I’m sure that’s what it was. A birthday present. At the very least it’s a gift from the universe. Karma for everything you’ve done to me. And it is so sweet. Sweet, beautiful Karma.”

Kevin was rapidly losing his patience. He wasn’t going to shut up. Granted, he never did, but like an idiot, Kevin had hoped this was the exception.

Mustering up all the energy he could but still not looking at Sami, Kevin responded, “Is that why you came? To gloat?”

“Gloat? Gloat?” said Sami, the mania not leaving his voice, “Why wouldn’t I? It isn’t like you didn’t try to break my back two weeks ago.Again. I mean, I have to hand it to you, credit for staying true to form. It isn’t enough to betray me time and time again, the consistency for you trying to end my career is admirable.”

There was definitely something about Sami’s tone. Kevin was trying valiantly to try and ignore it but the more the redhead ranted, the harder it got. Through the weariness, Kevin tried to place it. Once upon a time, he’d have been able to read Sami like a book without the need for words or other lesser means of communication. But whatever hellscape Sami’s mind had become, there was no understanding him anymore, even with words. Still, Kevin needed to try.

Anger? Well, that was surface level and to be expected. Hate? Again, par for the course between them. Regret? Possibly, but they’d put each other through so much by that point that their entire history was coated with regret. It was nothing new for either of them and it wasn’t what he was hearing now.

“Although, I have to say, Kevin,” Sami continued, “trying to end your own career? Odd choice. Brave, and entirely on point for your level of bullshit but still – odd choice.”

As the statement left Sami’s lips, the tonal shift became more evident than ever and, suddenly, Kevin realized what was happening.

Concern. That’s what was burning at the edges of Sami’s voice. Concern.

Suddenly, Kevin couldn’t avoid looking at Sami any longer. Pushing through the grogginess and haze, he turned his head to look at his former best friend. As he did, Kevin realized that, as tired as he felt, Sami somehow looked even more tired. His face was haggard and his already wild curls looked messier than usual, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple of days and the sight caught Kevin off guard like a kick to the stomach.

Still, Kevin didn’t care. He knew he didn’t. Not even a little and if he could just convince himself of it long enough for Sami to leave...

“You look like shit,” Kevin said.

Sami’s eyes fell to the floor, the façade starting to break. “So do you.”

Kevin couldn’t deny it anymore. Sami was worried about him.

And somehow, that made everything so much worse.

Don’t say anything,Kevin’s mind was screaming. Just let him leave. Don’t engage, don’t say a word...

“Are you... worried about me?” Kevin asked, despite himself.

Goddammit.

“NO!” Sami replied fervently, shaking his head as his eyes darted off in another direction. “No, of course – no, no! Why would I – no. No.”

It was far too many “no’s” to be a denial.

After a moment, Sami settled down again, his eyes once more on the floor. There was a knot tying itself up in Kevin’s gut, a familiar ache that Kevin loathed with every fiber of his being. He hated that knot, but he could never seem to escape it. As much as he told himself, swore to himself that he didn’t care, it always came back. With every stunner, every beatdown, every apron powerbomb atrocity he committed against Sami, he felt it. He’d fought against the feeling for over a decade by that point but it was relentless, carving up his insides and leaving him empty.

It felt a hell of a lot like guilt.

Kevin watched as Sami rubbed his face with his hands.

“Sami...” he said warily, but he was immediately cut off.

“I mean, I hate you!” Sami exclaimed, his voice turning wild once more. “I hate you with every fiber of my being! Every part of me, every single strand, every single sinew stands in defiance against you and what you have spent your life doing to me. You represent everything that is wrong with the WWE, and you are everything that is wrong with my life! You’ve been holding me down for so long, why the hell do I care?!”

For a moment, Sami’s crazed eyes locked with Kevin's, and Kevin realized two things immediately. First, Sami had accidentally replaced the word “would” with “do” in his rant and, second, Sami knew that he had and suddenly needed a way out of it. As quickly as they met, Sami’s eyes were gone again, slammed shut, and turned away from Kevin.

“I don’t care,” he muttered. “I really, really don’t. I just -”

Sami tensed up for a moment as if trying to restrain himself from something before letting out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair, and relaxing slightly. He was still pointedly avoiding Kevin’s gaze and as Sami rubbed his nose with his hand a nagging thought crept into Kevin’s mind.

It was the kind of thought that, were things different between them, might have meant something. The kind of thought that, was Kevin’s heart not already hardened against his former friend, might have given him hope. It was the kind of thought that chewed at your soul, stabbed you in the chest, and left you feeling raw and gutted inside.

He knew he should ignore it and any other lies like it. They couldn’t be true, the universe was too indifferent to muster up that level of cruelty. Were Kevin a wiser man, he’d have thrown the idea into the metaphorical dumpster, tossed in a burning match, and slammed the lid shut. But when it came to Sami Zayn, Kevin had never been a wise man, and the thought kept building and building until it was roaring like a freight train in his brain.

Somehow, the thought told him, likely against his will and buried deep in the shattered and broken mind of his ex-best friend, Sami still loved him.

It was a horrible thought, and as it tore through Kevin like a chainsaw he realized that a far worse fact lay buried beneath that.

Despite everything he had convinced himself of, all of the violence and aggression, rage and bitterness, he felt the same way.

Fuck.

Kevin stared at Sami, the silence between them almost tactile. It was no good. Kevin knew as much. Whatever they might have had long ago, it was gone now. Whose fault it was didn’t matter, although he knew in his heart it was mostly his. His friend, his Sami, the man he loved so much and who Kevin once would have gladly laid down his life for knowing that he would do the same, was gone. Immolated and turned to ash amidst a thousand paranoias, conspiracies, and obsessions. But as Sami sat beside his bed, his shoulders slumped and what Kevin swore looked like tears in his eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance, some excruciatingly small chance that they could be mended; Made whole once more.

Put back together.

They sat in silence for several long, agonizing minutes and Kevin watched as Sami fought the moisture in his eyes, steeling himself before finally shaking his head, scrubbing his face and eyes with his hands roughly, and hunching over in defeat.

Kevin couldn’t hold it in any longer. He had to say something, anything to break the tension.

What came out of his mouth was a question.

“Are you alright?”

Such a stupid question.

Sami didn’t respond at first, and Kevin watched as he bit his lip angrily before, strangely, he let out a small chuckle. Then another, followed by a laugh, and before Kevin could react, Sami was laughing. Rising, escalating laughter that reeked of the insanity Sami had been suffering from for so long. Crazed, maniacal laughter that shook Sami's whole body, and, as he cackled, he started shouting.

“Am I ok?” he hollered, “Am I ok? The man in the hospital bed asks me if I am ok!”

Anger filtered into Kevin's heart. What the hell was the asshole laughing at him for, all he asked was...

Sami bolted to his feet kicking the chair out from under him.

“YOU DIDN’T MOVE!” Sami cried out, and suddenly, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

Kevin’s eyes went wide as Sami’s laughter choked and sputtered turning into something that was entirely different and burned itself into Kevin’s brain.

“You didn’t move!” repeated Sami, waving his hands as the tears in his eyes threatened to spill over, “You landed on your head, bent in half and you didn’t move! I mean, it was just for a second, but I thought...”

Kevin wanted to say something, anything to calm Sami down, but his tongue felt thick in his mouth and the words got caught in his throat.

Sami’s words were soaked with pain as he continued. “... I don’t know why the fuck it matters, anyway, we aren’t friends. You didn’t... I don’t think we ever were, you just used me, used us for years until you were done with me and - and then... but we...”

Sami trailed off and Kevin watched as he fought to regain control. It struck Kevin as odd that he was fighting, that he was even trying to calm down. Sami had been ranting and raving for so long that Kevin had assumed he’d just stopped giving a damn about civility. But standing at Kevin’s bedside, Sami’s hands were now clenched into tight fists at his sides, with his body stiff, his eyes closed, and a face straining under the pressure to keep it together.

And, somehow, the impossible occurred.

Sami succeed.

Kevin watched the visible signs of Sami’s battle against his own mind start to subside and an uneasy calm fell over the redhead. Sami relaxed a bit, taking several long breaths before continuing.

When he did, he sounded nothing like the Sami that Kevin had grown accustomed to. He wasn’t Kevin’s Sami either but, somehow, it was as if a middle ground had been reached.

“I know it was Seth,” Sami told him. “Seth powerbombed you, that – you didn’t choose that, and I can’t hold it against you. It happens. But even on Smackdown, with the ladder there, and all the other crazy shit you’ve been doing? You’re going to injure yourself. End your career. Or worse…”

Sami trailed off once more, wiping his wet eyes.

Kevin knew Sami had a point, some of his antics from the past few years had reached new and creative levels of stupidity, outpacing the risks he so willingly took in his younger years. And yes, time and time again, he’d managed to injure himself in the process.

Still, it wasn’t all on his shoulders and Kevin’s jaw was tight as he replied.

“You know, I remember someone shoving me through a pair of tables a couple weeks ago,” he said.

Sami’s eyes were once more on his shoes as he responded.

“I remember some asshole powerbombing me through a pair as well. You wouldn’t happen to know who that was, would you?”

There was so much hurt in Sami’s voice that it broke Kevins’ heart. The anger was feeling dissipated and KO could feel his soul shattering into hundreds of mirrored fragments, shards of a past, present, and future devoured by fury and hatred, each reflecting back a stark reminder of who caused this, who was to blame.

He’d done this. He was the one who turned Sami into who he was now. Sure, the mental breakdown had a hand in it but Sami’s fall from grace was entirely on Kevin. He was the one who dragged Sami into his world all those years ago, determined to “fix him” and “bring him to the light”. All he had done was pull his best friend into a darkness that Sami had yet to come back from.

And still, as far as Sami had fallen, as much as he had crashed and burned, somehow Kevin was still managing to hurt him more.

Kevin’s voice was low when he finally responded.

“I never meant to -” Kevin paused for a moment, modifying the sentence in his brain, “ - worry you. Sorry.”

Sami scowled, shaking his head. “Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it, Kev. Not anymore. We have gone so far past sorry. So damn far.”

Kevin tried valiantly to shut down the part of his brain that was screaming at him. They’d gone too far, it was true. Anything they might have once had was irreparably broken. His gut was twisting as he realized it but there was a voice in his brain screaming at him to try anyway. Do whatever it took. Apologize more. Get on his knees to ask forgiveness. Plead. Beg. Hell, just kiss the guy if that’s what it took. Whatever was necessary to bring Sami back into his life. Sure, his Sami might be gone forever, but watching Sami struggle not to care, fighting back tears as Kevin lay in a hospital bed?

Part of Kevin believed that there might be enough of his Sami left to pretend they were ok.

And, at the moment, that part was winning.

Looking over at his former friend, Kevin’s brown eyes were full of love as he spoke his name once more.

“Sami...” he said.

The way the name came out, passing over his lips like a tragic reminder of what once was and what he wished could be again. It was a promise that Kevin would never give up on Sami, regardless of what new hells they might put each other through. A sacred oath that no matter what fate or any other force might do to them, Kevin would keep fighting to save them both.

Worst of all, Kevin knew it was a prayer. A prayer that, against all odds, there was something still worth fighting for.

That’s what you do with angels, isn’t it, he thought, the regret in his heart twisting like a serrated blade.

You pray to them.

Sami’s eyes returned to Kevin’s once more and KO realized that he was right. There was so much hurt, rage, and yes, insanity there in those hazel orbs. But Kevin had spent so long staring into them over the last two decades that he knew, in his heart, that his guardian angel wasn’t dead.

Not yet.

Fallen, yes.

But not dead.

And at that moment, Sami’s fight against the tears in his eyes was lost and they brimmed over, rolling down his cheeks.

“Don’t,” Sami said, his voice equally as sad as Kevin’s, “Just... don’t.”

“What?” Kevin asked.

Sami’s voice was cracking as he replied. “Don’t talk like we’re friends.”

Despite himself, a smile began to break through Kevin’s soul-torn expression

“I just said your name,” he said.

“I know.”

For the briefest of moments, Kevin thought he saw Sami smile in return when, just as before, the moment was wrenched from him as Sami broke away, turning his head aggressively to send a clear message that he was having no part of Kevin’s attempt at kindness.

“No,” said Sami firmly, “No, this isn’t happening. You don’t get off that easily, you shithead. We’re done here.”

Without looking back, Sami turned and started walking towards the door.

“Stay,” Kevin blurted out before he could stop himself.

God, you’re hopeless.

Sami stopped in his tracks, still facing the door.

“Why,” he asked. “Give me one good reason.”

Sleep was beginning to wash over Kevin. He fought it, he had to. He wasn’t ready to let go of... whatever the hell was happening between them. He had to stay awake, even if it was only until Sami was gone.

He didn’t want it to end.

“I’m waiting,” Sami said. “Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t just walk away.”

There was no anger or attitude in his voice and Kevin couldn’t help but think Sami sounded as tired as he felt.

“Because I... I want you to stay,” Kevin admitted. It was all he had.

With a bitter chuckle, Sami turned his head sideways to say over his shoulder, “I said a good reason.”

His voice weary with pain and exhaustion, Kevin said, “I don’t have one. Stay anyway.”

Kevin watched as Sami tensed up for a moment as if ready to throw attitude once more before he slumped and let out one final shaky breath. Wordlessly, he turned around and, retrieving the chair from where he’d kicked it, set it upright and sat down.

Nothing more was said. It was better that way.

Looking one final time at Sami in the chair, Kevin couldn’t fight the need for sleep any longer. He wanted to memorize the sight, Sami beside him for the first time in years peacefully and without them hurling insults, powerbombs, or helluva kicks at each other.

It wouldn’t last; Kevin knew that and Sami had to as well. By Friday, none of it would matter, they would be back to hating each other. Or, even worse, not caring at all.

At least when Sami was wailing on him, Kevin was close to him. Fight forever, that’s what they always said. When he was fighting Sami, they communicated on a level few could hope to comprehend. At Wrestlemania, there was an energy in the air, as if they’d found a canvas to paint a masterpiece on that would rival the greatest works of Rembrandt or Van Gogh. When he fought Sami, it still felt like home.

Sami loving him was the greatest gift of all. Sami fighting him was a close second. But indifference?

That was the worst fate imaginable.

And as sleep started to consume him, Kevin gave a silent prayer to any angel that was listening, Sami or otherwise, that that wasn’t the future that awaited him when he woke up.

The heavy silence between them faded away to foggy nothingness, and Kevin felt himself drift away.

The final thing he registered before unconsciousness took him was the feeling of a hand wrapping around his own.

#Fanfiction #Zowens #Shanie's Fanfiction #WWE

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luvksj · 3 years

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Yandere! Undisputed Era: Coming Back Home

author’s note: greetings and happy new years to everyone! for a while, i’ve been heavily into wrestling so i wanted to try write a yandere story for one of my favorite fractions in WWE right now-- UNDISPUTED ERA! please enjoy and thank you for your support! also, just for this setting, can we pretend COVID-19 never existed, just a heads up!

please let’s not talk about the fact adam cole turned his back on kyle o’reilly because i was not emotionally ready for undisputed era to fucking break up. i knew they were going to eventually break up but damn-- why so soon?

plot: undisputed era were on the other side of the world when you had escaped but two years later, you find yourself missing them despite everything they did.

[back in 2018: just for context]

“Flight FA8745 heading to Paris, France is now boarding. Repeating, Flight FA8745 heading to Paris, France is now boarding, please promptly make your way to Gate 7.” the announcer informed.

You were first in line, handing the awaiting flight staff your passport and ticket before literally sprinting inside into business class of the airplane which would take you far away from here and most importantly-- them.

Months of cautious planning went into this particular day from faking an illness to using public library computers to book your tickets to Paris where you’d start fresh again. Nothing could go wrong otherwise it would be game over and they were currently on the other side of the world: touring with WWE and NXT.

That’s right, you were in a relationship with ALL four members of the most dominant faction of NXT: Undisputed Era.

You met them through a mutual friend who worked for WWE and instantly clicked-- becoming good friends and they announce their attraction towards you before starting this four-year torturous relationship where freedom just didn’t exist anymore. Your access to the outside world was abruptly cut off, you had to obey their every request otherwise you’d be punished and those fan fictions didn’t go justice to what you went through each time.

It took hours to convince them to leave you behind with what they thought you had was a ‘nasty cold’ but however the only thing you were catching was a plane to Paris where no-one could find you. In order to make this act somewhat believable-- you remained home for the first few days and without fail, they would call to check up.

You had just finished the daily call, saying your final goodbye before hanging up and secretly disabling all security cameras then collecting your suitcases hidden in a false bottom underneath your bed. Catching an awaiting uber, you asked him to ‘step on it’ to the airport where you went through customs and sat anxiously-- losing your appetite with each passing second.

Finding your seat, you hoped and prayed that the plane would take off soon. You had secretly purchased another phone using money saved up in a secret bank account set-up. You knew each item brought by them was bugged with trackers so you didn’t bring much luggage since you had used the remainder of your secret stash.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for choosing Air France this evening. Please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for departure and direct your attention to the front for the safety briefing.” the captain announced.

You were finally free.

[time skip: 2 years later (2020)]

You had settled down nicely in Paris and eventually found a job as a dancer for a well-known video game: Just Dance. It paid incredibly well, you were loving this new-found freedom however... you maybe missed them just a little.

Adam’s humor, Roderick roasting anyone and everyone (including you sometimes), Bobby being the best teddy bear ever and Kyle’s cuteness/wholesomeness. They may have been incredibly possessive, manipulative and strict but at least you felt loved and wanted.

NO! You escaped and you shouldn’t be regretting it. You still followed their career and watched NXT every week without fail making sure they were okay however before you knew it, you had booked tickets back to America because it became too much.

Every week, watching NXT, you found yourself craving for them and yearning for their comfort but you kept saying that this was the best, remembering how they continuously scarred you both physically and mentally. But, you gave into your desire-- you needed them and that hurts.

Arriving in America or more specifically; Orlando, Florida where Wargames was being held. They were currently in a heated rivalry with Pat McAfee, Pete Dunne, Danny Burch and Oney Lorcan and they would battle each other inside Wargames much to Undisputed Era’s liking.

Hiding backstage, you watched from a monitor as the Undisputed Era entered first before Pat McAfee and company. They had changed dramatically since the last time you had seen them and unconsciously teared up, Kyle O’Reilly and Pete Dunne started the most anticipated match off.

Despite being at a disadvantage, Undisputed Era had managed to win with Kyle O’Reilly pinning Oney Lorcan for the win and you screamed with joy while jumping around, fist bumping the air. They were still inside the cage, soaking up the moment... well it was about to get a whole lot sweeter.

‘SHOCK THE SYSTEM’ resounded then you walked out, a smile wider than Roderick’s shoulders on your face with tears cascading endlessly. Circling the two rings carefully before entering on the opposite side, grabbing a microphone from staff officials.

Two years since you’ve seen them, you all have drastically changed: matured even. “I...” you were choking up just seeing them yet two years ago all you wanted to do was for them to disappear. “I’m sorry for leaving... if you don’t want me back, well I understand. I’m here to congratulate you on your ever so sweet victory against these four stooges. So... well done.”

Short, sweet and to the point. They looked among each other before circling you while completely ignoring the four bodies scattered aimlessly across the ring, “Don’t you ever do that again, understand?” Roderick stated, pulling me into a bone-crushing group hug.

Tears cascaded once again as you wrap your arms firmly around the four men who may be incredibly controlling but the men who will forever love you. “I understand... I’m sorry.” you whispered against Adam’s sweaty chest.

#wwe imagine #wweimagines #undisputedera #yandereau #yandere imagines #wwe x reader #wwe nxt #nxt fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

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shining-red-diamond · 3 years

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Ch. 1

Words: 3.1k

Pairing: NCT Misfit Unit x OCs

Genre: Fluff, angst, suggestive, mystery!AU

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: murder scene, violence, blood, brief sensuality

Savannah could smell the sweat and excitement the second she entered the clausterous arena. Two fighters were already in the middle of a match as she strolled in, and all of the men were screaming loudly for the fighter they were rooting for to defeat the opponent. The arena was once an abandoned nightclub, but some of the locals got the lights and electricity working again. After that, it became a place for underground WWE matches. The ring itself was made of metal wires with a tattered mat used as the floor. Sweat and old stains covered it so much that Savannah began to wonder when the last time it had been cleaned. It was certainly where she didn’t want to be on a Friday night, but she had a deadline to meet.

“Hey, lady,” a deep voice grunted from beside her. A young man with long, light blue hair and doe eyes was sitting at a table with a metal box filled with cash sitting on top of it.

“You gonna place a bet or what?” he said in a sharp tone.

“I’m looking for Johnny Suh,” she shot back. “Is he here?”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna have to wait until after the last fight is done to talk to him.”

Savannah just nodded, not very pleased with the young man’s attitude.

“Hey, babe,” a taller, young woman around five foot six with red hair approached the man and planted a loving kiss on his cheek. “Are we late? Astrid had to work an extra hour.”

“You’re in time for the last fight,” he replied, the biggest grin on his face as he looked up at her. His sudden change in attitude surprised Savannah, but she decided not to think too deeply about it.

The young woman was dressed in a cherry red, long sleeved crop top, denim shorts with a silver belt, and black combat books. Her friend, whom Savannah guessed was the one named Astrid, had shorter, dirty-blonde hair and sported an oversized military jacket and dark-wash jeans. Both of them seemed like sweet girls from what Savannah observed, so she decided to speak with them.

“Oh, hi!” the redhead greeted. “I’m Brittany. This is Astrid, and I’m sure you’ve met my boyfriend Hendery.”

“Savannah,” the journalist replied, not expecting such an enthusiastic welcome.

“You’re the reporter girl, right?”

“Journalist, but similar thing.”

“I’ve seen your picture in the papers before. You’re incredible.”

“I never knew I had such a fanbase,” Savannah nervously chuckled.

“I read your stuff when I’m in line at the grocery store, and you’re really changing the way cases get solved around here.”

Savannah got the impression that she was seen as a hero in this girl’s eyes, but she never considered herself one. She was just wanting to tell stories from her point of view, even if it meant solving a mystery. Her husband had the more heroic job with his fire chief occupation, and she was more than proud of him.

“Thank you,” was all she could say.

The two women made a beeline to the ring, Savannah following close behind them, and immediately climbed the fence to the top to get a bird’s eye view of the fight.

“Ten bucks, and I bet you Sledge gets his teeth knocked out within the first five minutes of the fight,” Brittany smirked at her friend.

“Really?” Astrid scoffed. “Twenty dollars and Wrecker breaks his fist in the process.”

“Excuse me,” Savannah waved. “I’m looking for a Johnny Suh.”

The two girls turned their heads towards the journalist, confused of why this fancy-dressed business woman was at such a fighting place built into an abandoned nightclub.

“Well, he’s the emcee,” Astrid shrugged, her voice having a light Danish accent, “so you will have to wait until the fight’s over. You’re welcome to hang with me and Brittany.”

Sit near a fight? Near where bones are known to break? Where blood is said to be splattered? Where humiliation overwhelms the loser? She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see that up close.

“I think I’m just going to find an empty seat,” she excused.

“Okay. You can sit with Jeno.” Brittany waved to a young man with jet black hair, and he nodded in acknowledgement. “You two can talk if you can, but it gets loud in here. It might be hard to hear, so fair warning.”

“I figured that.”

Brittany led Savannah to where Jeno was sitting, and after introducing each other she went back to her perch with Astrid.

“Lee Jeno,” Savannah repeated his name, half-shouting over the comotion. “Why have I heard your name somewhere?”

“Well, I’m not one of the top most wanted, but I’ve seen you at the fire station. Your husband is Chief Lee Taeyong, right?”

It then clicked in her mind. Jeno was part of Taeyong’s company, and she had seen him cleaning the firetrucks whenever she would bring something for her husband. The two had acknowledged each other, but never really spoke until now. Jeno seemed like a respectful young man, so Savannah felt no threat when she was around him. Seeing him now, she couldn’t help but notice his behavior. He was friendly, but he definitely seemed anxious about something. His knee bounced rapidly as his fingers drummed on it as if he was dribbling a basketball. When he spoke, he was calm; but his actions were saying that he had something on his mind.

“Yes, he is,” Savannah confirmed as she sat down next to him. “What’s a guy like you doing here?”

“I’m one of the fighters here when I’m not on duty, but I hurt my shoulder at a house fire. The doctor doesn’t want me doing any work for six weeks, so I just came to cheer on my friends.”

Savannah listened intently as the younger man told his story. He was a strong, young man at almost twenty-one, and he was one of the best fighters at the ring. The other fighters had given him the nickname “Hercules” to signify his strength, but he was one of the kindest fighters as well. Hercules could talk smack before a fight but make sure that his opponent got proper treatment for their injuries afterwards. If he ever lost a fight, he always gave the winner his congratulations.

“My family doesn’t like that I come here as a side hustle,” he continued as two beefy fighters entered the ring, “but as long as I come home after each one, then they let it slide.”

“Where do you get the money from?” Savannah asked.

“Some of it comes from lost bets, and some come from whatever gets made at the snack bar.” He pointed to a lit up area where someone was serving drinks to two women. “It’s a variety of things.”

“Laaaddiieeeesss and gentleduuuuudddeeeesss,” a voice boomed over a loudspeaker, causing the crowds to cheer.

Savannah looked over to see a man about six foot two and wearing a blue and black flame shirt half opened, and he was carrying a bullhorn instead of a microphone. The energy he radiated seemed almost out of place, but he managed to hype up the crowd with it.

“Is that Johnny?” she asked Jeno, and he nodded.

“We’ve had quite a night, tonight, haven’t we?” Johnny continued. “Well, we have one more round of action before I have noise complaints from the cops.”

The audience laughed.

“Let’s bring out Sledge and Wrecker!”

As the crowd roared in excitement, two large men on opposite sides of the ring entered it. One had a deep tan, bright purple hair, and a whole tattoo sleeve on his right arm. The other was thinner, but still muscular; and he had lighter skin and a buzz cut. Both men got in each other’s faces as to try to outdo each other in intimidating the other. Savannah just rolled her eyes and shook her head. To her, it was like watching two middle schoolers in a fight; but she still pulled out her notebook to jot things down.

Vibrations pulled Savannah out of her focus. Jeno’s phone was going off, and after seeing who it was his eyes seemed to pop out of his head.

“Is everything alright?” Savannah asked.

“I have to go right now,” he said as he quickly stood from his seat, “but I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Lee. Excuse me.”

Without another word, Jeno rushed out of the building. Out of her curiosity, Savannah sneaked out of her seat to follow Jeno, but she remained a good distance behind him. Once he was outside, he lifted his phone to his ear.

“Where are you right now?” he asked someone over the phone as concern laced his voice. “Is she okay?...Is she about to?...I’m on my way now. Tell her I’m coming.”

Jeno hung up the phone, shoved it into his pocket, and flagged down a taxi once he had reached the sidewalk in the fastest sprint Savannah had ever witnessed.

Many questions filled her head. Who was he talking to? Who was the girl mentioned? A girlfriend? A cousin? A sister? Was she hurt? Where was Jeno headed? The most logical answer would be he was close with a female acquaintance and needed him for something while she was in the hospital, but it was only a theory. Even if Savannah knew the answer, she figured it was probably none of her business.

As she headed back into the old building, the noise from the crowd had changed from whooping chants to cries of concern. When Savannah looked towards the ring, Wrecker was sprawled out on the floor, his body twitching and what looked like blood was pooling around his mouth. Is this what happens when fighters get knocked out? Savannah thought.

Brittany was still with Astrid when Savannah found them. “What happened?” she asked them.

The redhead was speechless and seemed near to tears.

“He was about to throw a punch,” Astrid explained in a panic, “but then he just collapsed out of nowhere.”

Two medics -a tall, lanky boy and a shorter, blonde girl- rushed over with a first aid kit to the fallen fighter and checked him; but the boy’s face immediately went into panic mode.

“Wrecker’s not breathing!” he wailed. “Someone call an ambulance!”

The girl didn’t hesitate to do so, and within a few minutes paramedics were trying everything to revive the fighter as they loaded him onto a gurney and into the large, white emergency vehicle. The police were also on scene as Hendery had seen something strange beforehand, so the incident quickly was turned into a homicide case. Everything happened in a flash, and Savannah wasn’t sure how something that was already chaotic became a place of death. Police lights were flashing by the abandoned building, yellow tape surrounded the ring, and investigators worked to find any evidence of what could have killed Wrecker.

“Hey,” a voice approached her. Johnny was jogging towards Savannah. “I heard you were looking for me.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” she forced a smile. “Do you think we can meet another time?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean.”

Johnny stood there with his hands on his hips and looked out to the crime scene. Savannah figured he was probably in shock as much as she was as beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. She wanted to ask him about what happened, but she figured now was not a good time.

“How about tomorrow at noon?” Johnny finally suggested after about a minute of silence. “I run the Iron Bell gym, so you can come by my office, and we’ll talk.”

“That’ll be perfect,” she agreed. “I think we all need some rest after what happened tonight.”

An officer then approached Savannah, took her statement and allowed her to head home.

Eleven o’clock in the evening rolled around when Savannah got home. An exhausted sigh escaped her lips as she set her purse and keys on the kitchen counter. Her fingers massaged her temples, her head throbbing with the weight of all the stress from what happened with Wrecker. He had died just after the paramedics arrived, and now the ring was a crime scene. Savannah didn’t know what to think. All she wanted to do was sleep away her worries and rest before meeting with Johnny the next day.

“Hey, babe,” Taeyong’s voice greeted her.

She hadn’t noticed her husband sitting on the couch with a bottle of cider in his hand and the tv turned on to a basketball game. He looked tired, but a small, welcoming smile was present on his face.

“Hi, honey,” Savannah greeted back as she trudged over to him.

“How was your day?” he asked as his wife kicked off her shoes and threw her coat on the recliner.

In an exhausted exhale, she allowed herself to fall over the arm of the couch and into Taeyong’s lap. Her face was immediately buried into his neck, and his strong arms captured her waist.

“Long?” he teased, guessing from her body language.

“Just hold me,” she requested with a nod.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

Savannah pulled her husband towards her and placed a soft but loving kiss on his lips. Taeyong always craved her touch, especially when he was on duty. He loved being at the fire station and having the opportunity to save lives, but at the end of the day he wanted to be home with his beautiful wife. Ever since they wed, whenever he was home early or off duty Taeyong would always have something to drink and watch a show before bed with Savannah. Occasionally, she would come home later than usual if she was on location for a story, and if she was exhausted like tonight she was extra snuggly. A year and a half into marriage, and this became almost routine for them.

For a few minutes, Savannah cuddled Taeyong as he caressed her like a swaddled baby. She was almost asleep until he tapped her awake so they could get ready for bed. He disposed of the now empty bottle before following his wife into their shared bedroom.

“Did you go to that ring tonight?” Taeyong asked as Savannah removed her makeup in the bathroom.

“Yeah,” she answered honestly. “But it was for a story for the Star.” She then began to cleanse her face.

“I know. Jeno goes there,” -he began to undress by the closet- “so I hoped he would see you.”

“I met him. Nice young man, but he left just before the last fight could happen.”

Taeyong came into the bathroom and pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste. “He probably had a good reason.”

“Well, it sounded like an emergency,” she explained once she had rinsed her face. “He sounded concerned when he asked someone on the phone where they were and if they were with someone about to do something.”

The fire chief didn’t answer right away as he was occupied brushing his teeth, but he did shrug in response.

“I figured it was probably a sister or friend,” Savannah continued as she patted her face dry with a towel. “He said ‘she.’”

“Probably something with his girlfriend,” her husband finally answered after rinsing his mouth. “I don’t know.”

“Well, it fits the context.”

The two reentered their bedroom, and he insisted on undressing her and putting her pajamas on her as she was so tired. It was one of the intimate ways they both enjoyed to show each other; Taeyong more, because it allowed him to care for the woman he loved the most. A few soft kisses were stolen as he changed her, and they both swayed a little to some soft music Savannah put on to help them unwind for the night. Both of them had demanding careers, but when they had intimate moments like this, they were something worth treasuring.

After Savannah’s pj's slipped onto her body, Taeyong spun her out and back into himself before kissing her.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

“You’re not mad I went to the ring?” Savannah asked as she crawled into bed.

“Did I like that you were going there? No,” Taeyong admitted, climbing in after her. “But knowing that you didn’t get hurt puts my mind at ease. I just hate that this assignment was handed to you.”

Savannah scoffed. “You act as if I’m made of glass. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself.”

Taeyong removed his glasses and set them on his nightstand as soon as he was on his side of the bed. He then wrapped his arms around his wife and stared into her eyes. “But I’m your husband, so I also have to take care of you.”

“You’re a fireman. You take care of everyone.” Savannah’s fingers ran through her husband’s dyed-velvet red hair.

Taeyong gave her a loving kiss. “It’s my job, and I love helping out the community. But you’re the one I want to come home to at the end of my shifts. Everyone means nothing compared to you.”

With small scoff disguised as a laugh, Savannah pulled her husband closer to her and began a small makeout. Despite being exhausted, she was just as hungry for his embrace as he was for hers. Her heart picked up the pace as Taeyong’s thumbs rubbed small circles on her lower back.

“Have you thought about it?” Taeyong asked, his lips trailing kisses down Savannah’s neck.

“About what?” she replied in a breathy tone.

“Trying, again.”

Taeyong and Savannah both desired children, but they wanted to adjust to married life and having careers before they decided to begin trying to conceive. A year into their marriage and they started doing so, but it was proving difficult. Each of their doctors had told them that they were healthy and doing everything right, but not every pregnancy will begin right after the first try. It was a lot to process, but the couple decided to focus on their careers and each other for a bit before trying again.

“Sometimes,” she shrugged, “but work has gotten so hectic for the both of us recently. I don’t know if we’ll have time for a baby. Plus, I’m so tired from what happened tonight.”

“I know,” nodded Taeyong before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We can make time, but I’ll be ready when you are.”

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wrestlingwithhistory · 3 years

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Why do I like Pro Wrestling?

Even though I’ve put a few posts up on the page already I wanted to introduce myself a little and break down why I’m doing this and give a bit of history about me and why I like pro wrestling.

My name is Kyle, I’m 33 from South Wales, I am married with 2 children. I first started watching wrestling when I was about 7 which I will go into as we go through the post. I started this blog for 2 reasons.

1. I love stories about pro-wrestling and wrestling itself.

2. I am starting a creative writing course and want to keep on top of writing so that I am comfortable with writing as I haven’t done it since I was in school.

Now, there are a million stories from Pro Wrestling that you’ve heard from the Benoit Murders to The Montreal Screwjob to The Plane Ride from Hell, but I have an interest in writing about the stories that people are maybe not as aware of that still involve some of the biggest names in Wrestling history.

Nowadays, we can be thankful as wrestling fans that we have a multitude of ways that we could watch wrestling thanks to the rise of streaming sites, Youtube and online stores which you can buy DVD’s or digital copies of your favourite events. Being a child of the 90’s, you would stumble across wrestling almost out of nowhere. I remember being in my grandparents’ house maybe aged 5 or 6. I never had satellite or cable TV growing up, only terrestrial, and coming in one morning and seeing Hulk Hogan on the TV in my grandparents’ house really caught my attention. I couldn’t tell you what show it was or who else was on it, but I remember as I watched Hogan, waving his arms to the crowd and cupping his ears to the Hulkamaniacs as he did throughout his career, that I held a curiosity toward wrestling and did ever since.

I can then remember a few years later one of my best friends growing up had a video at home which on the cover, a man would be fighting himself! Undertaker vs Undertaker. Back then, it was the most amazing thing possible, the mystery of how a wrestler could square off against himself in the ring was unimaginable for a then 7–8-year-old. Of course, that event being Summerslam 94 would not be the great event you look back on, but you appreciate the spectacle of it. I do look back fondly on that VHS and as I watch the event back, the standout match-up is clearly the Owen Hart vs Bret Hart Steel cage match, but it’s not the type of thing you value as a child.

You value spectacle. You value entertainment. At least I did anyway. You treat it the same way you treat a cartoon or movie, you suspend your disbelief for a few moments and take in the pageantry of it all. Some people class Wrestling as 3rd hand entertainment, and I have had many occasions where people have made jokes of the fact I watch wrestling, to the point where I would not even mention it if asked.

But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to not care and be happy with the fact I like it so much. It’s not a guilty pleasure, It’s just a pleasure. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve also embraced less of the spectacle side of it I once did and look at the athletic feats that take place in the ring, focusing on the technique that these men have to make it look as dangerous as possible, all the while keeping their opponent safe. I do still appreciate the entertainment value, but I definitely look at things like the work rate of the competitors and what they are capable of.

During my teens, we used to travel to video store not too far away from us in a town called Bargoed. Global Video was one of the first places to stock ECW VHS cassettes. My friends Daniel, Josh and I would go there, pick out a few VHS and go back to Josh’s room to watch them. One of the first ones I can remember watching was Living Dangerously 1999. For its time, the pacing and the layout of the matches were a perfect fit for that show. I remember thoroughly enjoying Tajiri vs Super Crazy, Sid and Spike Dudley vs The Dudley Boyz and also New Jack vs Mustafa which was enough violence for a teenage to endure at that point.

The one match from that event which today I place in my top 10 matches ever is Rob Van Dam vs Jerry Lynn for the TV Title. Watching the opening exchange between the two men figure each other out, reversals of pins, hammerlocks and wristlocks was fantastic and when they separated and looked at each other, it was rapturous. The crowd ate it up. You could tell something special was taking place. As the match continued, I saw things that I never would have seen on WWF during that time realistically speaking. There was a reason the E stood for Extreme in ECW. They always took things to the next level, and while the TV Title was far from being the most brutal match on the card (in part due to New Jack!) it was creative in the way it structured the use of weapons, tablet spots and fighting outside the ring. When the bell rings at the end for a timer limit draw, as a first-time viewer you feel almost cheated, not by the quality of the match but by the fact it could have gone on for another 30 mins. When Jerry Lynn requests 5 more minutes and is granted it, you think you are in for a Jerry Lynn victory but RVD pulls it out of the bag at the end hitting the 5-star Frog Splash. And great ending to a great match.

Throughout this time the Attitude era was in full affect. WWF had a huge roster of stars that any company would have been proud to have, Stone-Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, Triple H, Chris Jericho, Kurt Angle. It was a pleasure to watch some of these events. My friend Michael would record Raw and later Smackdown and let us borrow the tapes so we could get our fix. In January 2000, Channel 4 had gotten a deal to show a few WWF Pay-per-views for free starting with the Royal Rumble. I stayed at Daniel’s house and we watched it live on a small TV. We were extra excited that Taz showed up on the event to face Kurt Angle with an extra ‘Z’ in his name, especially after find ECW a few months previous. Add to that the shock factor of Mae Young’s striptease, the Rumble result, the street fight between Cactus Jack and Triple H, the tables match between the Dudleys and Hardys, it was a phenomenal show.

With the events now being on Channel 4, I would look eagerly on internet forums during school hours trying to find out which ones were next. I remember staying up and watching Backlash 2000 and Fully Loaded of that year, also recording them to go back and watch and study the matches. I would cover the back of the VHS case with white stickers and write the match card on the back in order, so I knew where to find my favourites. They also stared showing Sunday Night Heat as well, which I later years would also have an RVD vs Jerry Lynn match up but not at the same quality as the ECW Event the years previous. These events on Channel 4 ended with the Invasion PPV in 2001 after WWE bought WCW and ECW acquiring many, but not all of their top stars.

Tying this in with Video games like WWF Attitude, Smackdown, WCW/NWO Revenge, WCW Mayhem it helped nurture my love for it even more especially WWE Smackdown 2: Know Your Role because you can create your own shows, wrestlers and storylines. We would have nights playing the game having Royal Rumbles and tournaments, finding how to create wrestlers from online forums like CAWs.ws.

My friend Daniel got the internet at home and we would spend hours searching Kazaa for wrestling videos we couldn’t find on VHS, in-between searching for Create-a-Wrestler guides for Smackdown games. They would usually be the Music Video highlight reels of matches we would want to see. Being early 2000’s it was usually set to Creed, Godsmack or Limp Bizkit but it would be things like Sabu vs RVD in a stretcher match, seeing Goldberg jackhammer The Giant/Big Show, and whatever we could find of these old matches you would read about in Power Slam magazine like the Exploding Barb Wire matches involving Mick Foley, Terry Funk and Onita.

A few years later, with the introduction of freeview satellite there was now more channels in homes than before and one of those was The Wrestling Channel. I turned it to this station thinking it would be WWE but was amazed to see companies more similar to ECW. US Promotions Ring of Honor, Combat Zone Wrestling, TNA/NWA and a few smaller based promotions were present as well as a mix of local British talent. It was on this channel that I first saw a match that involved light tubes, obviously CZW. Although not my favourite style, death matches certainly have a car crash factor to them. You know something gruesome is going to happen, but you can’t look away. But on the opposite of that, with ROH you got to see unbelievable work rate wrestling with the likes of CM Punk, Samoa Joe, Bryan Danielson and Low Ki and with TNA similar talents but with more professional looking, AJ Styles, Teddy Hart and Jeff Jarrett being stars that shone there.

Getting to see high flying stars like Amazing Red, Jack Evans, Teddy Hart, AJ Styles was enthralling. It was a side of pro wrestling you never saw on the more methodical WWE and I would watch whenever possible but still getting my WWE fix via VHS recordings Michael would lend us, especially as some of our favourites from ECW and WCW were now competing there.

From around 2006, I began to wane off watching Wrestling as often. I was playing in a band and focusing on that was well as starting a relationship with my now wife. My band mates Lloyd and Ryan were into Wrestling, so I used to and still do talk to them about it now and then. We used to go to local wrestling shows in Merthyr Tydfil for Celtic Wrestling. Back then, they were just Joe Nobodies wrestling in a bar, but as I look back over many of the people on that show, they have foundations on Wrestling all over the world.

A list of some of the names I got to see in Merthyr Tydfil; Sheamus – Now WWE, Steve Corino – ECW Legend, Zack Sabre Jr – Current New Japan star, Tracy Smothers – Wrestling Journeyman passed away in 2020. I remember seeing Tracy Smothers and I was a fan from ECW when he was with FBI and he was great and a nice guy after the show too. The fact that someone who was wrestled for WWE, ECW and WCW was in Merthyr wrestling, to me was mind-blowing!

A few months later I found out they were doing Wrestling training at The Studio Bar in Merthyr in around 2008 (could be way off), so I went along. I didn’t tell anyone, I got dressed in football gear and told my girlfriend Sara I was off to play football. Instead, I went into this bar and rolled around on some mats for beginner lessons on a Wednesday learning basic holds and how to bump. I really enjoyed it and it was better than bumping on the grass like I used to do as a kid in my local park. I went twice in all, as much as I wanted to go back and keep going, I was thinking that playing music would be easier to justify to someone than saying you were a wrestler so that was that.

I always kept an eye on wrestling but not as intently as I did before, maybe it was my way of disconnecting from wanting to do it as much as I did. I would watch the odd Raw or Smackdown and just buy the Big 4 Pay-per-Views and this went on for close on 8 years, just dipping in and out casually but still knowing who was in the business and doing things else were. We still had TNA in the UK so getting to see that was great, especially with the talent they had there for a while.

It wasn’t until 2016 I started to get back into wrestling as much as I do now. AJ Styles had finally joined WWE after seeming he would never appear there and that interested me because AJ is probably one of my favourites of all time. Twitter was blowing up because of a match between Will Ospreay and Ricochet in the Best of Super Juniors during that year. Seeing mostly positive comments and the odd one or two negative comments from old school wrestlers. So, I clicked on a then Youtube video of the match and it was such a great match. I felt the buzz straight away and immediately started to get the itch back for watching wrestling again.

I had no experience of much Japanese wrestling, but I always enjoyed reading in magazines about people like Jyushin Thuder Liger and The Great Muta and seeing their matches on WCW years ago, as well as people like Taka Michinoku and Tajiri but the Ospreay-Ricochet match convinced me to sign up to NJPW World. That summer I followed the G1 closely. Bullet Club madness was in full effect, seeing the iconic t-shirts and the way they were in the ring were similar to NWO, almost too much to a fault. I didn’t really know any of the performers in the tournament but after watching matches, would go back through the New Japan archives and watch the matches of Okada, Tanahashi, Naito, Shibata and the others, getting to know their styles and gimmicks.

One that immediately jumped out to me was Kenny Omega. He was one of 4 non-Japanese wrestlers (Gaijin) in the whole tournament. I learned that he had turned on AJ Styles and took over as leader of Bullet Club. I went back and watched AJ’s final matches against Nakamura at Wrestle Kingdom 10, and then the tag match the following night between AJ and Kenny vs Nakamura and Yoshi-Hashi. I followed Kenny closely over the G1 and into the finals against Hirooki Goto which was an absolutely brilliant match. Omega ended up winning, going onto Wrestle Kingdom 11 to face Okada for the IWGP Heavyweight Championship. I checked my work diary to see if I had work that day, and I was off! Due to the time differences, I was able to catch some of the pre-show in the morning, drop my oldest daughter off to school and come back in time for the Naito-Tanahashi and Omega-Okada matches.

I got back and watched the Naito-Tanahashi match, a really fantastic match to which I remember saying to myself ‘the main event is going to need to be special to top that’. Cue watching my personal favourite match of all time. The pacing and the psychology of the match were so well done, Omega targeting Okada’s back ready for the One-Winged Angel but never getting to hit it through the match. The springboard moonsault to the outside over the guard rails, the Tope Con Hilo over the top which still holds one of the iconic images of the match as a whole, Okada’s resilience as a champion, back dropping Omega over the top rope to the outside through a table. It was and is incredible, debatably one of the greatest matches of all time. Not just in my opinion but for many others as well. And so, I was back in. From that point onwards, I was an ardent fan once again. I would use the archives of WWE Network, NJPW World, Youtube, Highspots Wrestling Network to feed my addiction, following twitter pages which is just GIF after GIF of just the craziest moves.

I would try and watch as many of the live shows in Japan as possible to watch Omega perform and throughout 2017, even though it probably could have been savoured a bit more, we got to see 2 more amazing Omega-Okada matches at both Dominion and G1 and also a lead to Omega-Jericho for WK12. Both my current favourite and my all-time favourite meeting for the first time for a great match. From a Kenny standard it was not as good as some of his previous but for Jericho it was probably one of his best even compared against some of his classics against the likes of Shawn Michaels and Chris Benoit.

In the Summer of 2018, I watched the Dominion show where again Kenny Omega went up against Kazuchika Okada for the IWGP Heavyweight championship. It was a 2 out of 3 falls match with no time limit. I couldn’t get the time off work for the event so I managed to smuggle my phone into work and would watch intently while selling mobile phones. It was another amazing match up, but I had to watch it over again after finishing work so that I could experience with sound, but even on silent, you could feel how brilliant the match was and Kenny finally defeated Okada for the title. Even though Kenny won it, I much preferred him fighting from beneath, almost as if achieving the pinnacle of wrestling was never going to happen. Even though he had a good handful of matches as champion, the ensuing AEW venture obviously scrapped any possibility of a long-term reign. Also disappointing to see New Japan miss a trick by letting Ibushi win the G1 and then the title from Kenny at WK13, instead vying for Tanahashi who, for as great a performer as he is, was not in his prime and the story between Ibushi-Omega would have been concluded or at least cliffhung until a later date. That aside, the show killed. It was amazing, but you could see the writing was on the wall in terms of Omega, the Young Bucks, Adam Page leaving to start AEW in 2019.

That kind of takes it up to current day, or at least as close to it as possible. It was possibly a long-winded diatribe of saying ‘Yeah, I like Wrestling’ but I hope it helps people to understand what drives me to write about it, why I enjoy watching this often joked about form of entertainment and why I think people could probably appreciate it more.

My messages are open if anyone wants to ask me any questions about wrestling or share stories about your own experiences, favourite matches or even stories that you would like me to cover, and I will try and find something to contribute to the page if possible.

Please read through the posts, like and share if you enjoy and leave comments if you wish to appreciate, critique or contribute towards the stories if you know anything I may have missed out.

Thanks!

#wrestlingwithhistory #wrestling #wwe #njpw #aew #ecw #roh #czw #wcw

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sstrongstyle · 4 years

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𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Adam Cole x OC, mentions of Seth Rollins x OC 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After nearly a decade of being the golden girl of WWE, Adaline Marin wants out. Their ring was no longer home, haunted by her first love and upon reaching her thirties, the face behind "Aspen Glory" wonders if the passion she once had was still ablaze. Instead, she gets sent down to NXT to join the Undisputed Era. The next three hundred and sixty-five days, all captured by cameras for the history books, become a year of revival, reinvention, and realization with her legacy at stake and a new flame from the past emerging. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: All characters are referred to by their real life names (for the most part) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I love feedback! Please send some my way! <3 Very background heavy chapter, no real fun, but more to come. If you’re interested in being added to a tag list, let me know!

CHAPTER THREE.

June 8th, 2019

Adaline couldn't believe that she didn't just agree to this, but agreed for it to be done for an entire year. It wasn't like she cared about being in management's good graces and volunteered to do it, but she somehow got hoodwinked into agreeing to a 365 special on herself. She was the last person in the world to enjoy having cameras on her when she was out of the ring and no longer Aspen Glory. Doing interviews out of character for Adaline felt like pulling teeth. She avoided Total Divas at all costs. Even appearing on stuff like Ride Along and UpUpDownDown was difficult for her.

"Just call me the modern day Undertaker," Adaline rolled her eyes, but she smiled a bit, as she sat down for the camera.

She liked her privacy as much as any other wrestler that had cameras constantly on them, but especially since fans liked to pay extra attention to her life for whatever reason. Adaline attributed it to her once long term relationship with Colby, highly publicized at several points because of whatever dirt sheet rumours and private leaks that were thrown their way. She was quiet at all times, her Wikipedia page only covering her wrestling career, as she had been as vague about her childhood as possible in the past.

Raising an eyebrow at the producer, Craig, a few feet away, Adaline wasn't sure where to begin. "I can just talk about anything?"

Anything but the few things on the "no mention" list. Most were contributed by WWE, but a lot of other things were provided by Adaline. This included her past relationship with Colby outside of kayfabe and especially anything to do with Nikki Bella.

"Start with talking about your career so far. You can name drop companies and non-contracted performers, but only because we'll be editing whatever we don't want aired, anyway."

"Right," she shifted slightly, unsurprised. "Well, I'm turning thirty-two this fall, so this will be into my sixteenth year of doing this thing."

She wasn't exactly sure why the Network executives wanted to give her a 365 special. As far as she knew, most of the episodes were focused on wrestlers overcoming serious injuries or taking the next great step in their careers. Was this what NXT was supposed to be for her?

Craig's expression remained blank, as he pushed his semi rimless glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "You started at sixteen years old?" His eyes never left the clipboard in front of him, where she assumed was a list of prompts to ask.

"Yeah, I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade and I worked retail and other random part time jobs for two years while training and working local shows in Toronto. Bingo halls, high school gyms, random parking lots, you know," Adaline explained further, still trying to loosen up her tense shoulders. "When I turned eighteen, I dropped everything and moved to the United States because I knew I was limited, wrestling where I was wrestling. I was an illegal alien with no plan and just a few hundred dollars—the dumb indie wrestler dream."

It'd been so long since she looked back at that time in her life. Once embarrassed by her roots, Adaline felt a warm, fuzzy feeling at the pit of her stomach and couldn't ignore the swelling of pride in her heart. She'd come far.

The look on Craig's face induced Adaline to continue, so she took a deep breath. "My early work happened in Pennsylvania, where I fought my way into gyms and I mean fought. It was really hard at that time for a woman to be taken seriously. It was guys like Drew Gulak and Jon—" Although Craig said that she was allowed to name drop non-contracted performers, she was positive that uttering the former Dean Ambrose's name wasn't worth it. "—um, who helped me learn the ropes and culture in that area. Chikara's Wrestling Factory really helped me out and I did stuff for them and other places like CZW. Drew was the head trainer at the CZW at the time and was one of the first mentor figures I had."

If Adaline had to put her money on it, she would have said that Craig was bored out of his damn mind, but then again, he had the same expression on his face ever since he walked into the room. "Did you just stay in the northeast for that portion of your career?"

"I ventured a bit more west as time went by. Definitely lingered around Illinois for a while, since it's where the top independent women's promotions were at the time. Funnily enough, I ended up living in Chicago for about ten years after that." To be with her boyfriend, but she didn't mention that. "I did some time on the west coast, not as much as I wish I did, but I definitely had some fun doing stuff in California and for a split second, Mexico. Three years into working in the States and I somehow, by a miracle, land myself in the locker room of Florida Championship Wrestling."

To this day, Adaline wasn't exactly sure how she got in. The tape that she sent the developmental recruits was god-awful and her tryout promo was more than cringy. However, looking at other people in her recruitment class, it was clear that officials and scouts looked at potential over everything—how well could they be molded into the WWE standard, the ceiling of their entertainment value. She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered that they saw that in her or not or if they simply saw that she could be easily manipulated.

"It was definitely a time down there. Difficult, yes, but I learned so much." Adaline could recall nights crying into her pillow out of frustration for where her training was going and how she was treated by the other talent. Girls often claimed how hard they were judged for being models and dancers before coming to FCW, but it was just as hard being an "arrogant indie schmuck." There weren't many women from back then who could relate to the garbage that she went through.

Craig asked, "Do you think performers then had a harder time in FCW than the recruits down in the PC and NXT today?"

She paused, taking the question in. "Not a harder time, per say, but the process is much smoother now, while being more of a burden. We have the state of the art Performance Center now, compared to that warehouse we used to train in. NXT gets so much more exposure now that it's harder to reinvent yourself at your own pace." Adaline said. "In a way, because NXT is now its own brand, I would say that talent from the FCW era were much more catty in the sense of starting drama and wanting to move up to get on the road with the main roster talent. The divas division back then was a very different culture to the women's locker room here at Full Sail, which is now very welcoming. Everyone wants to help each other, not drag them down."

There was nothing Adaline wanted to do more than expose certain names, but she held herself back. The catty environment, the hazing, the drama and sabotage, was too much for her. She was just glad that she move on from there quickly, as her memories in developmental hurt her as much as they did help her.

"And after FCW?"

Adaline grinned. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows what happened after that."

For the first few years, she was afraid that the only reason she got lumped in with The Shield was because she was Colby's long term girlfriend and that they assumed he would be most comfortable with her as their valet. After all, Adaline wasn't exactly progressing as a character in FCW. She was scared of that, and only being considered as eye candy and a side item for the boys. It took years of understanding from other people and seeing the product in the eye of the executives that they truly must have seen potential in her.

And if all of the above were true anyway, then Adaline made damn sure to prove herself to be otherwise in the past few years.

"My time with The Shield was everything I could ask for and more. I'm glad I spent that portion of my career with those guys, I don't think I could have found my way around without them. We were all definitely kind of lost, but we had each other, and we were really family." She wanted to say are family, but things were different these days.

Adaline talked to Joe the most, at least up until her move to the yellow and black brand. He texted and checked up on her often while she was off TV. Jon came here and there, but things were different. She only kept up with him through Renee, since the man clearly had yet to discover how to reply to a text.

Then, there was Colby.

Things were good the first couple months after the big finale. As fine as they could be, really. They were on different brands leading up to Wrestlemania, which contributed tremendously to the smooth sailing. After the Royal Rumble, though, things got. . . weird and of course, she hadn't known it yet, but it was around the time he started seeing Becky.

"Hey, Becks, some of the girls are going back to my hotel room after the show," Adaline had tapped Becky on the shoulder after catching her outside of the trainer's room during the later hours of Elimination Chamber. "You gonna come and kick my ass in Mario Kart?"

For whatever reason, Becky's expression dropped. "Oh, uh, actually, I'm just gonna head back to mine. Call it in early, y'know?" Tripping over her words, the fluster in her voice was a tad suspicious to Adaline, but she brushed it off.

She'd proceeded with her plans with Pamela and Leah, playing video games into the early morning. Adaline didn't even think of Becky and her obvious excuse until Leah mentioned that she ran into Becky on her way back to her own room.

"It was written all over her face! Someone definitely got lucky that night," Leah mused at the makeup table, two days later at Smackdown. "Who do you think the guy is? She's definitely not one for random hookups."

Adaline knew that she wasn't owed an explanation to Colby's new love life, but she was a little disappointed that she figured it out on her own. The little things, the rumours she heard backstage, all pieced together for her to realize what was going on between the two of them. Maybe Adaline wouldn't have felt so ruffled about it if it wasn't made to be so weird and secretive. She didn't tell anyone what she found out, keeping it to herself until they announced it themselves.

"Stop making excuses for him, I know why he's late." She didn't even look up from her phone, as she waited in the passenger's seat of the group's rental car. "He's with her, right?"

This was at the tail end of The Shield's farewell era in February earlier that year. Though, Adaline was not heavily involved in the storyline as some expected her to be—the escalation to her own Wrestlemania feud had been going on and she had duties to fulfill on the Smackdown brand. She wasn't there for the buildup throughout the month on Raw, but she was able to join the reunion at Fastlane. It was the group's last match together and the group begged personnel to let her be apart of at least the final moments.

Joe and Jon simply exchanged looks with each other in response. They clearly knew about the couple and probably found out from Colby himself. While nobody said anything to Adaline about it, deep down, they all knew that nobody needed to. She knew Colby more than possibly any other person in the world and the two weren't surprised that she figured it all out.

"Right." Jon was the one who chose to break the awkward silence. "Well, he can meet us there. Let's get this show on the road, we got some beautiful people waiting to see my beautiful face at that bar." It felt a little wrong to not wait for Colby on their way to the roster's "Goodbye Shield" party at a local watering hole, but even Joe was sick of waiting and started the engine.

"We had the time of our lives in that initial run. There's just too memories that I'll cherish forever, you know. But, my memory of all time is surprising the fans at Fastlane, when I showed up to accompany the boys to the ring one last time and having that farewell embrace as the show went off air." Adaline quickly blinked back the tears, as sensitive as ever, but she didn't like showing that side of her to the camera. "I swear to god, time seemed to just completely stop for those few minutes. It was out of this world, nothing like it."

The most magical part of wrestling was the crowd, there's no denying that. On the eve of Fastlane, Adaline felt mountains of love and excitement from the fans, knowing that they were witnessing the end of an era. All four of them knew it was the end of an era, in many ways more than one. Adaline and Colby, who were always known as a collective, rather than individually, were now apart and were now moving on from each other. Mox chose to chase his dreams elsewhere, away from the three that became his family. Joe's legacy in the industry was building and building, year by year. They were no longer the people they were in 2012, having finally gotten a taste of wealth and glory after early years of struggle when the four used to share a single hotel room to save costs.

She'll always be grateful for her run with The Shield. At the beginning, she was just happy to be in a main roster storyline. She was just happy to be able to maximize her time with Colby. Beyond that, Jon and Joe became her family. Bickering over who's turn it was to drive after long house shows, getting to know Joe's kids, playing video games in the locker rooms and every hotel room, and nobody leaving the trainer's room until everybody was clear. No one got left behind.

Back then, it was like that. Now? Adaline can't help but feel like she's come to that point, without any of the three by her side for the first time in a decade.

Craig sighed a little too loudly, rolling up his sleeve and glancing at the shiny watch on his wrist. "We're running out of time. We'll touch on your time with The Authority and everything since then for our next interview day, maybe also dig a little deeper into your new alliance with Undisputed Era." Adaline tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, already worn out from the questions. "Last thing. What are your expectations going into NXT, considering all that you've gone through in sixteen years?"

A question that she didn't know the answer to.

"It's good catching up with you. You have your locker number?" Coach Bloom stood up from his chair from across the desk, extending his hand for Adaline to shake.

She nodded, taking his hand. "Yes, sir. I'll be on my way, then."

Being called into the head trainer's office was similar to the feeling of being called into the principal's office and she had more fear in her body than someone who had just arrived should have had. That was the feeling that Bloom gave off to all NXT residents, but she knew that there was always care behind his tough demeanour. He simply wanted to welcome her properly to the PC on her first official day.

Meanwhile, Serena had been sitting to the side of the two of them and she couldn't confine the grin stretching across her face. When they had shook hands, she instead pulled her old friend into a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy you're here," she whispered into her ear, not caring that Bloom was rolling his eyes at them, mumbling about something for the two women to take it outside of his office.

They had only reunited so few times since Serena signed on as a coach for the Centre a year ago and it only made the moment feel so much sweeter. At the very beginning of Adaline's career, Serena had served as such a helpful mentor figure, even going into their short lived time in the FCW women's locker room together. To have their paths intersect once again, at yet another pivotal part in Adaline's life, seemed poetic in a sense.

Adaline walked out of the office, in tow with Serena. "I guess I'll be responding to your drills again, huh?"

"And you better do it damn well," she raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "I'm still in shock that you're here. They really didn't want you going anywhere else, huh?"

Shrugging in response, the Canadian sighed. "I'm in shock, too—considering that NXT wasn't apart of the plan." Adaline was getting tired complaining about how the wool was pulled over her eyes during her contract negotiations, but it was starting to fully settle in. Meeting the guys in Hunter's office softened the blow. It was time to shut up and accept the facts.

"People everywhere watched what you did all over the world during those two years that you were gone. You don't need this company to be a star, they need you," Serena said. "Have you maybe considered that you're here because you did all you could do on RAW and Smackdown?"

Those words echoed in Adaline's head, as she trudged into the women's locker room.

It had almost ten years since she started this journey in this company and it seemed like almost everybody that started with her had already grown tired of it. Her first road wives, April and Celeste, were long gone. Danielle decided that she was worn out and was gone. Trinity had recently taken time off and wasn't sure when she was coming back to the ring. Saraya, someone who Adaline thought would be wrestling in her sixties, was retired. Even the goddamn Bellas weren't around anymore. Ninety percent of the division from a decade ago was gone. Wasn't she exhausted, too?

She envied women like Becky and Pamela, who were still hungry for more. There were others who had just made the main roster and some down with her in NXT now, who suffered through the struggles of the indies and were still ready to claw up to the top. Adaline wondered where that drive was for her.

Every locker was labelled by ring name, some with more long-standing plates—mainstays like Io Shirai and Bianca Belair. Meanwhile, others simply had a laminated piece of paper slapped on top of the metal. These were the recruits who had yet to prove themselves, the names that Adaline couldn't recognize.

A shiny, new plate shone on the locker that sat at the corner of the room. Aspen Glory, it read, in all of its permanent lustre.

She slammed her gym bag onto the bench, the impact echoing throughout the empty room. The process felt foreign, making a locker home when Adaline spent so many years travelling to probably hundreds of different arenas and treating each space and moment as temporary. She wasn't sure where to begin, as she unlocked the door and was met with a clean, baby blue interior.

There were some basic things that she brought, like extra socks, a water bottle, and shower shoes. Adaline quickly filled the locker up with these contents and it still appeared so barren to her. What the hell else was she supposed to put in it? She shrugged, not thinking too much about it. Then, she heard the door creak open.

Somewhat hidden away from the front of the locker room, Adaline could hear a distinct voice that seemed to be talking to someone over the phone and a smile formed, hoping it was who she thought it was.

"Yeah, that sounds good for dinner. I just got into the PC, I think Cheree's already waiting for me. You know how she is, she's always early. Alright, bye, Johnny, I love you. See you."

A flash of blonde hair only confirmed Adaline's suspicions. It was Candice LeRae, who hummed the melody of a 90s pop song and chewed bubblegum, as she strolled over without noticing the other female in the room. She easily unlocked her name plated locker, which was across from Adaline's, and nearly everything spilled out from it being too full.

She groaned. "Oh, crap," Candice said, trying to chase a bottle of dry shampoo that had begun rolling across the floor, only to be met with Adaline's bemused expression.

"Hi."

"Hey," Candice replied with a grin, a little perplexed.

Almost instantaneously, they pulled each other into a hug. Knowing that she would be diving head first into the unknown, Adaline was aware that she couldn't navigate all on her own. The two Breezango idiots were too busy figuring their own things out and she couldn't voice her anxiety to her new stable mates, wanting to give off a confident face. There were only so many people that Adaline could turn to outside of them, so she gave Candice a heads up that she was now reporting to the Performance Centre.

Adaline bent down and reached out for the lavender can for her shorter friend, passing it to her. "Your shit's a mess, girl."

"Yours will be, too. Give it a month," she rolled her eyes and peeked over her shoulder at Adaline's belongings on the bench. "You're moving in today?! I honestly did not expect to see you here so soon."

"I told you that I landed a few days ago, didn't I? I've been in meetings all weekend," Adaline replied with a groan. She had only been in Orlando for such a short amount of time and the amount of work and settling she had to do was taxing. The NXT tapings hadn't even begun, yet.

Candice said, "Yeah, it doesn't really slow down for another week or so. You'll love it here, I promise." As everyone else had promised Adaline, who clearly wasn't convinced.

The blonde turned around and put the can back into its place—if it even had one, in that mess of a locker—and began rummaging through her personal possessions. Candice let a out a soft a-ha! when she found what she was looking for at the back of the space, a Minnie Mouse hairbrush. Adaline chuckled softly at the sight and turned around, closing her own locker.

"Are you off to go workout?"

"Yeah, Cheree's wanted to get some cardio in. Any more meetings today?" Candice replied.

Adaline shook her head. "No, just moving in." She gestured to her gym bag and locker.

"Well, while you're here, the taping schedule is posted up by the west wing double doors, you know, the ones to the main gym. We can check it out together. Actually, would your name even be on there?" Candice thought to herself, considering that she was one of the few people who were made aware of Adaline's presence. The taping schedule wasn't usually subject to the change unless there was an injury, but producers were known edited the cards last minute to accommodate random returns and debuts before, at least once the talent found out.

The woman in question just shrugged in response. "Beats me. It doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Then, we can check out the travel schedule. Ooh, I hope you're coming with us to the midwest loop at the end of the month!" Candice became giddy. "We'll hit the road together, no men! I wish we got to do that more often when you were in Cali."

Adaline didn't get the opportunity to do so often, but she loved wrestling in The Golden State and especially in PWG. When she worked with them in the past, she always travelled and hung out with Candice.

"I don't think so, but probably the next one?" she shrugged.

The two began chatting more for the next few minutes, mostly about Adaline settling in and her new house. Always the lazy type, she'd been procrastinating and the boxes in her home were left untouched, despite her promising herself that she would get it all out. The small talk about something other than wrestling for once settled the restlessness in Adaline, a small distract of sorts.

It wasn't like she disliked talking about wrestling, rather it was all that seemed to be on her mind for the past while since Wrestlemania. Somehow, it was the first time Adaline really took notice of that, considering she lived, breathed, and ate wrestling for the past sixteen years of her life. A part of her felt worrisome for the sudden awareness of it, wondering it had any relation to her other career concerns.

Unfortunately, the brief, sweet wrestling-free moment was cut short when the locker room door slammed open.

Everyone knew who Shayna Baszler was, or at least, every woman in the company did. After all, the current NXT Women's Champion was probably next in line to overtake your spot in the animal kingdom. Management wanted to push her to lead the division once she would inevitably leave NXT and become a box office draw for all of the big pay-per-views and tours and media.

Some said that Shayna was one of, if not, the most intimidating women on the NXT roster and bore a vicious gaze. Even upon entering the locker room that was nearly empty, her presence demanded attention. All eyes drew to her so naturally and so quickly as they tore away from her out of fear.

"Out of my way," was all she had to say to Adaline, not even flinching at the sight of the veteran and former women's champion.

Adaline zoned out for a moment, completely baffled by the attitude that she was just given. She couldn't help but scoff, trying to process the disrespect that was being shown to her.

She narrowed her eyes at Shayna. "The hell did you just say to me?"

In between them, Candice just sighed. It seemed like that she wanted to end what was going to be an ugly dispute early, but something held her back. Adaline hoped it wasn't out of intimidation by the former mixed martial artist.

Shayna stared back at the woman in front of her. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you got this brand on lock? They get tired of you on the main roster and Japan couldn't offer you enough money, so you come down here to fuck around?"

Adaline wanted to find out how Shayna found out that she was going to be here, but that wasn't the main concern of hers. Her jaw nearly dropped to the ground, hearing Shayna's words. Clearly, she didn't like her or some rumours already began to float around backstage. Regardless, Adaline was already on the bad side of the de facto locker room leader.

With the fury running through her body, though, she didn't give a damn.

"I'm going to say this once, so you better listen up," Shayna began, "I think you're entitled. I think that you've ridden on the coattails of your ex-boyfriend for your entire career. So, I don't like you. Plain and simple."

"You think you know me?" Adaline's voice began to rise, but Shayna held up a hand and didn't let her finish.

She said, "Maybe for you, being here is like a little vacation before someone like Ashley Flair gets injured and creative will need another spoiled brat to bury their women's division with on Smackdown. For some of us, NXT is our entire lives. Don't mess that up for us."

With that, Shayna bumped Adaline's shoulder when she walked away to the other side of the room and behind a wall to another area of lockers. All she could hear after was the stomping of boots and the slamming of a metal door open. Meanwhile, she was in complete shock of the conversation that just happened, wondering if she just imagined it.

Looking at Candice's sheepish expression, though, it confirmed that Shayna Baszler did indeed strut right up to Adaline and cussed out one of the scariest warnings that the latter had ever heard in her life.

"Honestly, she gives that talk to every new girl," Candice said in a low voice, as she ushered Adaline out of the locker room.

"You can't be serious," Adaline shot back, still worked up over what happened. It took all the will in her body to not barge right back in and swing at Shayna's smug face.

The target was now on her back and she had yet to even step into the yellow brand's ring. If she was being honest, it was definitely a wake up call to where she was now and the expectations weighing down on her shoulders. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She didn't even want to be here. Adaline wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was terrified for the first time in years.

#adam cole imagine #adam cole fanfiction #adam cole x reader #wwe fanfic #nxt fanfic #wwe imagine #hm series

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1030

1. What did you do on the last nice weather day? I’m guessing ‘nice’ here universally means sunny and fair, even though that isn’t my weather of choice. But that said, yesterday I just stayed indoors and caught up on rest by binge-watching Friends, which I haven’t done in a while. I also ordered another embroidery kit online since my first kit, which I had mostly used as a trial since I’ve never done one before, has since run out of the given floss.

2. What do you love the most about your work? I work in an agency, so I’m not forced to do PR under just one company which I think would get boring for me pretty quickly. With the nature of my work, it’s fun working with many different brands/companies at one time because I get to be exposed to and learn about different industries, and I’m also challenged to come up with campaigns that would best fit the different groups that we work with which is always fun. Also, PR is a great way to keep up with the trends and always remain hip because I always know about upcoming campaigns or promos before they’re even unveiled to the public, lol.

3. What do you think about what is going on in the world today? I think wealthy people and big corporations are a crucial, if not the main, root of the world’s problems and it’s frustrating that the task of mitigating those issues is always delegated to everyone below them.

4. What is your favorite way to work out? By not doing so, hahaha.

5. What motivates you? I don’t know if anything has been lately. I’ve been taking life slowly and easily these days and I’m allowing myself to just go through the motions as I digest all these big adjustments currently going on in my life. For now I’m not putting any pressure on myself to be motivated to do anything big. I’m still a little overwhelmed with everything as it is.

...where’s #6?

7. What is something people do that drives you crazy? When people need something from you so they message you, but do unnecessary small talk before asking for a favor. The fact that they need my help does not bother me; the fact that they are only talking to me because they need something from me does not bother me. It’s the small talk that irks me. I’ll be ready to help anybody at any time and it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we’ve spoken – but just go ahead and ask for the damn thing and don’t waste my time trying to sound like you care about what’s going on in my life.

8. What are some things on your bucket list? Go to Wrestlemania, travel with my own funds, have my own place, have kids.

9. What are some of your deal breakers in a relationship? Do I even have any? Gab dropped so many red flags in our relationship that should have been dealbreakers and my dumb, ever-forgiving ass always saw past them. I think the thing with me is that I think I have a list of dealbreakers, but when actually confronted with them I’m too afraid to speak out about it, so I just forgive and forget and eventually they just stop being dealbreakers. I have to work on that.

10. What do you never leave your house without? My top three are phone, keys, wallet. And of course, as a given – a face mask and face shield.

11. What was your most memorable vacation? Sagada and Singapore/Malaysia, since that was my first trip abroad.

12. Do you have any phobias? Needles and fire.

13. What is your favorite ethnic food? Indian, Thai, Indonesian, and Korean. 14. I love Italian/Thai etc. Would you like to go to my favorite place sometime? I love both, though I like Thai a tad bit more. And yessss, I’m always open to anyone’s recommendations so long as it’s got something to do with food.

15. What TV shows have you binged lately? I’ve been rewatching Friends again and I’m in between seasons 5–7, which I believe to be the show’s peak. Currently, I’m several episodes away from the Ross/Elizabeth storyline and Chandler’s proposal.

16. Send me a funny meme that you shared recently. I haven’t been active on social media, so I haven’t seen any new memes lately. I hate missing out.

17. What do you hate about technology? This is more nitpickiness on my end than anything else, but battery power. I hate being constantly cautious over my gadget running out of power or dying on me especially when I’m out. I often find myself wishing for technology to evolve to the point that we won’t need batteries or to charge stuff anymore, which idek if it’s even possible haha.

18. What sites do you find yourself visiting the most? YouTube, by a mile.

19. Do you have any favorite apps? Again, YouTube. I also like going through Reddit at the end of the day.

20. What is the best part of your day? Any point I don’t find myself feeling miserable.

21. What time period would you like to visit the most, if you could time travel? 70′s punk/rock scene, maybe? < Ooh, this is a good one. Also, late 90s Attitude Era-era WWF/E. And whenever Pompeii was around.

22. What scents do you really enjoy? (a certain flower, cut grass, fireplace, perfume) Bakeries, a newly-cleaned hotel room, coffee shops.

23. What is something that you are terrible at? Giving and following directions, drawing, and cooking.

24. What are some favorites on your playlist right now? Because I mentioned The Japanese House on a survey last night, I am ALL over Saw You In A Dream again. Seriously, god-tier. One of my favorites ever. Outside of that, haven’t been listening to music lately because I’m still sad; but I might find myself back on Spotify soon. As much as I haven’t been tuning into music, I do miss it.

25. What comedy movie is your favorite? Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Also, a bit of a garbage choice but White Chicks.

26. Have you ever meditated? No. I don’t think I have the patience/required attention span for it.

27. What is your dream job? I wanted to be in PR. I currently work at an agency which is my dream for now so yay for me achieving that, but like I’ve said before it would be such a dream come true if I can come work for WWE, my dream company, in any capacity. Getting to work for their in-house PR team would be the perfect icing on the cake.

28. What comes to mind when you think of a great moment in your life? Being in a relationship, and how much I miss that feeling. Now that I’ve experienced both singlehood and having an SO, I can definitely decide that I don’t particularly enjoy being by myself.

29. What do you miss the most about college? The independence I learned to gain. My campus was such a freeing environment and it allowed me to grow so much, to wear whatever I want, to join whatever protest or rally was going on, to meet new people, to hear different perspectives from my classmates. I miss being there.

30. Whenever you text it makes me smile! ???

31. What are you planning this weekend? My weekend is nearly over, actually...for the remaining 10 hours and 20 minutes of it, I willllll probably just watch a bunch of wrestling and maybe find something to watch on Netflix just so that I have something interesting to share for the weekly check-in tomorrow with the team.

32. Who is your favorite band? Paramore, but you knew that already.

33. How do you like to spend your free time? If I manage to find a few free minutes while at work, I gobble that shit up by lying in bed and finding a video to watch. On weekends I like doing embroidery, taking surveys, maybe even find a black hole of articles to read on Wikipedia. I’m also looking forward to playing video games once I’ve finally bought the ones I’ve been eyeing to get.

34. What do you like about springtime? I don’t know. I can’t relate, we don’t have that season.

35. Is your personality similar to anyone in your family? I’m most similar with my mom, but I share traits with my dad as well.

36. How have you handled having to stay in? It was sucky at first, but after eight months you kinda get used to it and just make the most out of things you can do only at home.

37. Are you able to work at home? Yeah, we’re all on a WFH set-up right now.

38. How would your friends describe you? The most popular opinion would probably be ‘shy.’

39. Did you ever take a really big risk? Sure.

40. What do you want to be known or remembered for? Anything but negatively.

#survey #surveys

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takerfoxx · 4 years

Text

All right, so long as we’re playing catch-up, let’s address exactly what I was doing over the weekend that cut into my activity, why I posted “finally” at 3AM Sunday morning for seemingly no reason, and why at that very same time I was kneeling on the living room floor in front of the television, a luchador mask pulled down over my face, a Los Ingobernables de Japon towel draped over my shoulders, stomach full of Pringles and candy, and tears of joy prickling at my eyes.

You see, something happened at that moment, something I’ve been waiting to see for two years, something that brought me the most genuine joy and relief from any story in an exceptionally long time.

Yes, this is going to be about wrestling. Deal with it.

But honestly, it was more than just my favorite wrestler winning the big one at the big show against the big rival. It was the culmination of a five year journey, a story with twists and turns, one about failure and redemption, starring the coolest anti-hero ever and that happened almost entirely by accident.

Let’s wind back the clocks a bit. I’ve been a fan of pro wrestling for pretty much about half my life now. I got into it at around seventeen when I saw the Undertaker on tv, remained a devoted fan for several years, and even when I stopped watching due to life circumstance I still kept up with what was happening through internet news and would pick up the occasional PVP DVD from Best Buy. And over time I became as equally fascinated with what was going on outside the ring as inside it, with how these seemingly normal men and women would craft intricate second identities that they would embody at almost all times in order to stage violent battles over extravagant prizes. Wrestling is basically live action anime, and has been my longest lasting passion.

But unfortunately, at that time wrestling was entering something of a dark age. The WWE crushing all of its competition had left it without any reason to really try, and the quality dropped. Sure, there was the occasional bright spot, the occasional revolutionary storyline or character that would make waves, like the Shield, CM Punk, the Broken Hardys, Daniel Bryan, etc. All well and good, but these bright spots were just that, and overall the landscape seemed bleak. And when I traveled to Florida for Wrestlemania to see the Undertaker’s grand finale, I sort of considered my own grand finale with the WWE, a way to close the book on that chapter of my life. I saw my idol, the man that got me into wrestling in the first place, reach the end of his story, and so I could move on.

And then something magical happened.

In early 2017, the wrestling world suddenly started clamoring. Apparently, a match in Japan had happened between two wrestlers I knew little about that was supposedly the greatest match of all time, a transcendent masterpiece that dwarfed all other contests. These two men were called Kenny Omega and Kazuchika Okada, and the match was at an event called Wrestlekingdom, for a promotion called New Japan Pro Wrestling.

Now, I knew what NJPW was, of course. I had read several wrestling autobiographies, and many of those wrestlers had done tours there. And I knew of the famous Bullet Club through several of its members coming to WWE and bringing that attitude with them. And of course Shinsuke Nakamure also going to WWE and Kota Ibushi working the Cruiserweight Classic tournament put NJPW in a spotlight. And yet, until that moment, I hadn’t actually really checked it out. I had checked out a couple matches here and there, but they weren’t really my thing, so that was that.

But I had to see this match. I had to see what all the fuss was about. So I hunted down a recording and watched now.

Now, my experience probably wasn’t the same as a dedicated fan watching it in full live. I was someone going in cold, watching it in chunks here and there over a couple days. But it was a damned good match. I could see why it was so highly praised. But it wasn’t enough to make me keep watching.

But then, as a listened to several wrestling journalists and commentators discuss the match, one made mention of its very slow start, pointing out that it had to start slow because it was following another fantastic and highly anticipated match that had gone on right before it. So my curiosity got the better of me, I looked up this other match for the Intercontinental Championship between a couple of guys called Tetsuya Naito and Hiroshi Tanahashi, and…oh…

dailymotion

That. That’s all it took. Tetsuya Naito’s entrance, right there. I had never seen anything that cool before in my life, from his fancy suit and skull mask combo, to his overall languid disdain for everything around him, to how the giant eye opens up on the screen behind him right as he removes his mask, to the way he tosses his championship belt around like he couldn’t care less. He was absolutely mesmerizing.

This match clicked with me in a way that the other didn’t, and it was all because of Naito. His trollish persona, his mindgames, his over bastard demeanor had me hooked, and I simply had to know more about the man!

Well, it really looks like I know how to pick them, because not only was Naito a fascinating character, he had an actual bonafide backstory, the sort that would make any anti-hero jealous. And rare for a wrestling character, it happened almost by accident in a manner that came incredibly close to sabotaging his entire career.

To explain why, we have to go over to the man he was facing that night. We have to explain Hiroshi Tanahashi.

Tanahashi. The Ace of the Universe. The Once in a Century Talent. The Savior of New Japan Wrestling. The man that took the company on his back and singlehandedly lifted it out of its darkest days.

Tanahashi’s persona has been described by many as being the Japanese John Cena. Certainly there are parallels, in that’s he’s portrayed as an ultra-wholesome do-gooder, the ultimate superhero, an incorruptible paragon of good that was always the top champion, was always in the main event spot, and almost always won.

However, that comparison also does Tanahashi a massive disservice, because while John Cena’s supposedly unbreakable goodness and winning streak made large swaths of fans turns against him, the crowd in Japan never stopped loving Tanahashi. That is in part because he came around when the company was in a bad place financially and creatively. Multiple bad business decisions had left it in a rut, and poor attempts to course correct had only made things worse. But Tanahashi was exactly the man they needed, someone who could take Japanese workrate and combine it with Western flashiness and pageantry to turn himself into a genuine must-see star, and unlike John Cena, whose wrestling skills never seemed to be equal to his billing until fairly late in his career, Tanahashi was an amazing wrestler from the get-go, one who had a knack for pulling the best performances out of his opponents and make them look like a million bucks, so that even when he won, they came out of it looking better for having battled against the Ace.

Tanahashi saved the company. He brought back the fans, filled the seats, and got people buzzing about NJPW again. Hell, he pretty much was the only thing keeping the company afloat until other stars, such as his arch-nemesis Shinsuke Nakamura, Prince Devitt and the aggressively Western Bullet Club, and others could come along to help shoulder the load. However, while having all those other stars was great, they could not fill Tanahashi’s role, and too many were being tempted away with big WWE contracts. Tanahashi wasn’t going to be around forever. Sooner or later, a new Ace needed to be created.

To this, the company decided to have not one, but two stars at the ready, one to fill the role of Ace, the ultimate good guy, and the other to be his rival, the ultimate bad guy. For this, they chose two of their most promising rookie, a pair of prodigies that had all the tools they needed to succeed. The one chosen to be the bad guy was one Kazuchika Okada, the Rainmaker.

And the man chosen to one day replace Hiroshi Tanahashi as the Ace of New Japan was Tetsuya Naito.

In Okada’s case, the plan worked perfectly. He spent some time in America, where he studied various tapes and characters and came up with the gimmick of the Rainmaker, an ultra-arrogant rich boy who draped himself with gold and acted as if he was owed the world. And it is with this gimmick, this character, that Okada was rocketed into an immediate rivalry with Tanahashi himself, where he then showed everyone that he could walk the walk and was, despite his youth and inexperience, one of the greatest wrestlers walking the earth. His and Tanahashi’s rivalry has become the stuff of legends, as the upstart newcomer battled against the aging veteran for the top prize in a series of matches that are simply breathtaking in their quality. When it came to Okada, his place was secured.

At the same time Okada was being built up as the man who deposed Tanahashi, Naito was being groomed to be the man to replace Tanahashi. He built up a following as a white-meat babyface nicknamed the Stardust Genius, an enthusiastic, high-flying underdog hero that the fans could get behind. He was even turned on by his tag-team partner to build sympathy. Over time, he rose through the ranks, gaining popularity and esteem, until finally the time came to pull the trigger.

Okada had already taken Tanahashi down and claimed the Heavyweight Championship for himself, so someone had to be the one to confront him at Wrestlekingdom. That someone was, of course, Naito, who won the prestigious G1 Climax tournament by besting Tanahashi himself and earning the right to challenge the champion at Wrestlekingdom, and he did so to rapturous applause. Everything was working out great.

And then, just when it seemed that Naito the Stardust Genius and Naito the actual person had finally achieved everything he had ever dreamed of, it all came crashing down.

As Tanahashi was being led to the back, Naito got on the mic to make his celebratory promo, in which he declared himself to be the Shuyaka, or top star, of New Japan.

This was a mistake.

You see, it was still in Japan, and Japanese culture still puts great stock in its elders, those who have established themselves as successful leaders, and there was no veteran wrestler as beloved as Tanahashi. So for Naito to brazen declare himself to be the Shuyaka right there when Tanahashi was still in the room was akin to a slap in the face.

Now, unlike WWE, New Japan does not script out their wrestlers’ promos. More often than not, they simply improvise, say what they want, so long as they hit the right points. So this little comment came directly from Naito. Perhaps it was a heat of the moment thing, something he just spouted off in the giddiness of having won the G1? Maybe it’s something he planned out in advance. Regardless, it doesn’t matter, because right at the moment that was supposed kick off his rise to the top, it instead was the beginning of the end for Naito.

Now that the main event spotlight was upon him, it was up to Naito to back his arrogant words up, and he outright bombed, and bombed spectacularly. Oh, he was still an excellent wrestler, but he just didn’t have what it took to be the next Tanahashi. He didn’t have Tanahashi’s irresistible charisma, Tanahashi’s godlike connection with the crowd, his knack for eliciting sympathy while under attack and making the place erupt with cheers when he made a comeback. Instead of making both himself and his opponent look good like the Ace should, Naito would look weak even in victory. Everything about Naito just seemed off, like he was trying to wear someone else’s clothes that were not made to fit him, and it was clear that he was completely out of his depth. And little by little, the crowd who once chanted his name began to turn on him.

Cheers dulled to polite applause, which weakened to apathy. Naito was dead in the water. Instead of riding a tidal wave of support and momentum into his clash with Okada, he was being greeting by silence, which is the worst response for a wrestler to get. Negative reactions were one thing; any wrestler worth their salt could work with getting booed when they ought to be getting cheered. It’s what turned the Rock into the blazing star he became, after all. But Naito was getting absolutely nothing at all. And things finally came to a head when he came out to a wall of silence to formally challenge Okada for the Heavyweight Title and once again called himself the Shuyaka.

And the audience laughed at him.

They laughed. They mocked him. Naito wasn’t a anything anymore. He wasn’t the hero, he wasn’t the valiant underdog, he wasn’t a rising star, he most certainly wasn’t the Shuyaka. He was a joke.

And New Japan noticed.

It bears repeating that this wasn’t supposed to happen. Wrestling is fixed and staged, yes, with storylines and rivalries being written out in advance backstage and the wrestlers themselves only feigning hostility and working together to make the matches as exciting as possible, but things don’t always go according to plan. The crowd was supposed to be cheering Naito. They were supposed to be chanting his name. Instead, the loudest reaction he was garnering was laughter. And with him already penciled in to face Okada for the Heavyweight Title in the main event of their biggest show of the year, New Japan was in trouble.

However, they had an out. The crowd might not care one bit about Naito vs. Okada, but they were intensely interested in the undercard battle for the Intercontinental Championship, which was to be between none other than Shinsuke Nakamura and, you guessed it, Hiroshi Tanahashi. The writing was on the wall. The crowd didn’t want this inferior new model. They already had a perfectly good Hiroshi Tanahashi, and would accept no substitutes.

For the first time ever, the company took a fan vote. Which match did they want to headline Wrestlekingdom? The battle for the top title by the two young up-and-comers, or the match for the lesser title by the established stars? By a factor of 70%-30%, people voted for Tanahashi vs. Nakamura, thoroughly rejecting Natio.

Now, I’ve seen video of the moment Naito was laughed at by the crowd. I’ve also seen clips of when the results were announced. And in both cases, Naito looked absolutely heartbroken, like he had a lump in his throat and was trying not to cry. And why shouldn’t he feel that way? This was his dream, the moment he had sweat and bled for years to achieve, the moment he had done everything that was asked of him in order to earn! It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t Tanahashi! It wasn’t his fault that they had told him to be something he was not! It wasn’t fair!

Fair or not, the decision was made. The Naito experiment had failed, and while it isn’t known if he was originally scheduled to win the title, he certainly couldn’t be allowed to hold it now. In quick succession, he lost the Tokyo Dome main event, the match itself, the undercard title he was already holding at the time, and slipped down the card. He was booked to lose most of his matches now, and the crowd continued to be absolutely merciless, turning from apathy to outright hostility. The man who had been rising to the top of the mountain was now little better than a jobber. Naito had lost.

And so, after little more than a year of enduring abuse and ridicule for something that really wasn’t his fault, Naito left the company and departed for Mexico in disgrace.

Naito’s first excursion to Mexico as a rookie wrestler years later had been rough, and he had been constantly bombarded by racist taunts from the crowd. This time, however, things were different. This time he had friends waiting for him, specifically a luchador named La Sombra, whom Naito had befriended a couple years earlier. And as it so happened, La Sombra knew exactly how Naito felt. He too had tried to play the wholesome good guy only to be flatly rejected by the crowd. He had tried to do the right thing only to have it thrown back in his face. And so he had decided that if he was going to get booed anyway, then he was going to do something to earn it.

La Sombra had turned heel, rejecting the crowd like they had rejected him, and gathered a small group of like-minded individuals. Callings themselves Los Ingobernables, they embraced being outright bastards who did what they wanted, how they wanted, and wallowed in the crowd’s hatred. For poor Naito, the experience was life-changing. No longer hampered by New Japan’s restrictions, he was allowed to cut loose, unleashing his pent-up aggression out on his opponents and the crowd alike. He was finally allowed to be the bad guy, and it felt good.

As such, when he later returned to New Japan later that year, the Naito that the Japanese crowd was a very different person than the one they had rejected.

Gone was the excitable good boy who was happy to be there. Gone was the attempts to pander to the crowd and do the right thing. This new Naito was a lazy, dickish malcontent, one who straight up didn’t give a fuck. He regularly refused to do his part to win matches for whatever team he was assigned to, would regularly abandon his partners, lounge around when he was supposed to be wrestlers, and walk off during beat-downs, leaving his partners to the wolves. He showed disrespect to everyone and anyone, spitting in people’s faces, cheating whenever he felt like it, screwing with the referees and ring crew, and generally just being a really unpleasant person. The only thing that he seemed to care about at all was his Los Ingobernables hat and the group it symbolized, the only people in the world to ever accept him.

If the crowd disliked him before, then they outright hated him now, and before too long Naito was the most hated man in the company. And he just relished in their anger. Yeah, that’s right! I tried to be the good guy, and you rejected me! So now here’s the new me! Enjoy!

But it didn’t stop there. Naito might now be a lazy asshole, but he still had his ambition, and over time he started to gather disciples of his own, such as the psychotic Jet-Black Death Mask BUSHI, the self-proclaimed King of Darkness EVIL, and the silent and sinister Cold Skull SANADA, and later on the lovably deranged Ticking-Time Bomb Hiromu Takahashi and the deadly brawler known as the Dragon Shingo Takagi. Together, they formed the Japanese branch of Los Ingobernables, known as Los Ingobernables de Japon. And together, they cut a swatch across New Japan, using their uncanny coordination to overwhelm opponents with their numbers and pick them apart. What was more, in a company that revolved around faction warfare, this small group, easily the smallest of the New Japan factions, stood out. Others were alliances of convenience, or several individuals working together toward a common goal, or friends who occasionally had each other’s backs. But LIJ was a brotherhood, a family of outcast miscreants.

And then, something fascinating started to happen.

The tide began to turn on Naito, and the crowd began to appreciate El Ingobernable in a way they had never appreciated the Stardust Genius. In a culture built around conformity, seniority, and submission, there were many among the younger fans who also felt left behind by society, unappreciated by their employers, overlooked because of their youth. To them, Naito became something of a symbol, a man who had both company and society turn their backs on him, and who turned his back on them in turn. And unlike the manufacturedness of the Stardust Genius, this was something that felt real. The crowd’s rejection of Naito had been real, as was his betrayal by the company, so everything he did now felt completely honest, and they appreciated that about him. They empathized with him. They understood him. And what was more, for the first time ever, Naito was actually cool. His new detached contempt made him hotter than he had ever been. Instead of the plucky hero, he had turned into the edgy renegade, the man with a grudge and chip on his shoulder, and every reason to feel slighted.

The boos quieted, and in their place Naito began to hear what he had craved for so long. People were cheering for him. People were chanting his name. LIJ merchandise became New Japan’s hottest selling item, supplanting even merchandising titans that were the Bullet Club in some places. Because Naito had tapped into something that few other wrestlers other wrestlers had managed to reach. He had touched the zeitgeist of a generation and become something real. He had turned himself into a movement.

However, unlike other anti-heroes that had found themselves unexpectedly popular, Naito did not lose his teeth. Instead, he took all of that support and channeled it, feeding upon it and using it to drive himself further and further up the card. He embraced his new legions of fans while not caring one whit for anyone else. To his mind, if you were with Los Ingobernables, then you were cool. If not, then fuck you.

Now with his brothers at his side and his supporters at his back, Naito once again went after Okada, whose star had only risen higher in Naito’s absence. Okada had recently managed the impossible and defeated Tanahashi at Wrestlekingdom to claim the throne that was meant for Naito. Using his new talent for mind games to bewilder and stall Okada, and having his brothers swoop in with sneak attacks time and time again, Naito finally managed to get the better of Okada and claim the Heavyweight Title.

Which he then tossed away like a piece of trash.

See, it wasn’t about fulfilling his dream anymore. It wasn’t even about proving himself. It was about making a statement. It was about getting back at those who had left him in the dust. In Naito’s mind, he had already reforged himself into the biggest star in the company, and he did it on his own without the higher-uppers’ help. So why should he treat the title like it was a big deal? He was a bigger deal than it, and so long as he held it, he was going to treat the top prize of New Japan with as much disrespect as New Japan had shown him.

Naito’s time as top champion was ultimately a short one, but that didn’t slow him down. He instead then focused on gaining the Intercontinental Championship instead, which he did. However, this time wasn’t coldly disrespectful to the title, he was outright malicious and abusive! He wouldn’t just toss it around like it didn’t matter, he would actively try to destroy it, by kicking it around, throwing it against the steel steps and ring posts, spitting on it, leaving it behind in the ring, and at one time trying to use it to pay for snacks at a convenience store. It was that title that had robbed him of his coveted Tokyo Dome main event, and now he was going to get his revenge.

And the more vile and abusive Naito was toward NJPW’s treasured prizes, the more people loved him. The Ungovernable Army was growing by leap and bounds, and soon Naito was being cheered when going against Tanahashi. The message was clear. Naito had absolutely been the right choice to place at the forefront of the company, but not as an artificial Tanahashi clone, but as himself. He had tapped into something real, and it was carrying him forward on a wave of momentum.

But Natio wasn’t done. He had rebuilt himself as a star when the company couldn’t. He had founded a movement of the mistreated and disenfranchised, one that embraced him as their standard-bearer. He had even held the top title, albeit for only a short time. He had claims victories over both Okada and Tanahashi. But though he had gotten his revenge, he hadn’t taken back what had been denied him.

He had to main event Wrestlekingdom.

He had to win back the Heavyweight Title in the main event of Wrestlekingdom.

He had to prove that he really was the Shuyaka. The crowd now believed in him. Now it was time for those whose shadows he stood in to understand as well.

See, despite all of his contempt and disrespect, despite having shed the Stardust Genius, despite for all of his tranquilo disinterest, deep down inside Naito still cared. That driven young wrestler with stars in his eyes desperately wishing to ascend to the top of the company that he dearly loved was still there. The wound of rejection still gaped open, and he desperately needed to prove to himself that he was worthy of being the Shuyaka.

After finally losing the Intercontinental Championship (to Hiroshi Tanahashi no less), Naito powered through the grueling G1 Climax, winning his block and again progressing to the finals. But waiting for him was none other than Bullet Club leader Kenny Omega, the man who had won that same tournament the previous year and was gaining a reputation as possibly the best wrestler in the world.

What followed was a spectacular battle between two alpha anti-heroes, each of them heading immensely popular villainous factions and vying for the same prize. Naito and Omega gave each other everything they had, taking greater and greater risks and nearly ending their own careers several times. And at one point, Naito seemed to have finally gained the upper hand and laid Kenny out. The crowd roared in delight, certain that their hero was going to win the big one.

And then Naito made a mistake.

Overcome by the prospect of victory and giddy with emotion, he did not go for the cover or set up his finishing maneuver, the Destino. Instead, he turned and pointed at the top turnbuckle, signaling for the Stardust Press, the finishing move of the long-abandoned Stardust Genius persona. He believed that by winning with that move, he would prove that he had always been worthy, that even as the Stardust Genius he had still been deserving of being the top star.

The crowd roared with anticipation. They too understood what move meant to him. They knew his story very well.

Unfortunately, Kenny managed to roll out of the way, causing Naito to come crashing down.

It was almost the end then, but Naito managed to rally and finally put Kenny Omega down with a pair of Destinos, once again winning the G1 Climax, and this time as the beloved star he was almost meant to be. And with the G1 trophy in hand and his fellow Ingobernables all around him, he got on the mic and once again proclaimed himself to be the Shuyaka, and this time there was no objections whatsoever. Everyone agreed with him.

That ought to have been the catalyst to his ascension to the top. Finally, the Wrestlekingdom main event was his, and he had done it on his own! Tickets to Wrestlekingdom were selling better than ever, everyone wanting to see the Ungovernable One finally achieved his Destino. And on that, fans flocked to the Tokyo Dome and tuned in to the stream from around the world, all of them with one thought. This had to be it, right? Naito had to win the big one. It was his time!

Unfortunately, reality can often be a cruel mistress.

Despite all he had achieved, this was Naito’s first Wrestlekingdom main event, and in his excitement he forgot the tranquilo attitude that had brought him his success. Whereas Okada had main-evented not only multiple Wrestlekingdoms at that point, he had become perhaps the greatest champion of all time, striking down every challenger and sending them hurtling back into the abyss. To him, it was just another title defense. As wrestling’s self-proclaimed Final Boss, no one had been able to touch him, not Tanahashi, not Kenny Omega, no one.

Not even Naito.

Naito again began playing to the crowd, pulling out moves he hadn’t used in a long time, including two more attempts at the Stardust Press, but none of them succeeded. Okada had his eye on the prize, and he took advantage of Naito’s lack of focus to turn his pandering back against him, rallying and taking him down. One, two, three.

When that pinfall was counted and Okada declared the winner, fans all over the world felt the air get sucked out of their lungs. What had happened? Why had Naito lost? This was supposed to be it, his big moment! How could he fail.

Then, as Naito left the ring in defeat, Okada got on the mic and called him out, mockingly asking him how it felt to main event the Tokyo Dome, and suggesting that if he liked it, he could try again. In answer, Naito gave a nonchalant smirk, but inside his heart was breaking. He had finally gotten everyone to rally behind he, and he had let them down.

Over the next two years, Naito would try and fail to regain the same momentum that had led him to the Tokyo Dome, only to see obstacle after obstacle. He would get eliminated from the New Japan Cup twice. He would score high on the next two G1’s, only to choke in his last matches, failing to gain enough points to qualify for the finals. And, as if to mock him, his fate seemed entwined with the Intercontinental Championship.

Despite his disinterest in it, the title seemed to keep finding its way back to him, and he would find himself battling the likes of the sadistic Minoru Suzuki, the brash foreigner Christ Jericho, and his supremely talented “frenemy” Kota Ibushi for the title. Though he would lose it every now again, circumstance would bring him once again in contention with whoever he lost it to, and the title would once again be his.

As this happened, he found himself reconsidering how he felt about the belt. Certainly it had been the source of his downfall years later, and he had made his hatred for it clear. But over time he began to reconsider. Perhaps he had been looking at it all wrong. Perhaps the title would be the key to his redemption.

As 2019 rolled by and NJPW began its march toward the next Wrestlekingdom, Naito saw his opportunity. As Japan was to be hosting the Olympics next year, Wrestlekingdom was going to be expanded into a two-night event in celebration. And as his worthy arch-rival Kota Ibushi ended up winning the G1 Climax that year, he was set to main event one of the nights.

But what of the other?

Showing a rare instance of like-mindedness, Naito and Ibushi proposed an idea. As Naito was the current Intercontinental Champion, and Ibushi was gunning for the Heavyweight Championship the first night, should they both come out with gold around their waists, why not face each other in the main event of the second night in a winner-take-all match to decide the first ever double champion? If Naito could accomplish that, then he would finally achieve something that none of his peers had been able to do. Not Okada, not Omega, not even Tanahashi. He was going to be the first.

Enter Jay White.

In the years since their G1 encounter, Kenny Omega had since departed both the Bullet Club and New Japan to see his fortunes elsewhere. And in his absence, the Bullet Club had come under the control of the sinister and dangerous Switchblade Jay White. Under the Switchblade’s rule, the Bullet Club had returned fully to its villainous roots, becomes a despised and despicable faction that ran down all in their path. And once he heard of the Double-Gold Dash tournament, Jay White saw an opportunity for himself to insert himself into contention, to not only be the first double champion himself, but also deny the prize to the man who needed it the most.

Using the fact that he had defeated Naito in the G1 Climax, Jay White targeted Naito and his Intercontinental Championship, claiming that he was going to take the title and insert himself into the Double Gold Dash in Naito’s place. And Naito, who had supposedly written the book on mind games and opportunistic sneak attacks, suddenly found himself under attack by a mind more wicked and devious than his own. Jay White stalked and harassed Naito for months, the two trying to one-up one another and psyche each other out. But at the end, it would be Jay White that would come out ahead, wielding the Bullet Club as a weapon to take Naito down and steal his title away, leaving him with nothing.

For Naito, it seemed like the end of the road. He had lost his ticket to the Double Gold Dash, which had been his idea to begin with! He had lost the title, lost his spot, and also seemed to lose his spirit, becoming languid and dead inside. And with that weakness seeping in, the sharks came out for blood.

One of Naito’s long-time rivals, Taichi from the nefarious Suzuki-Gun faction, came after Naito. He had also beaten the Ungovernable One during the G1 Climax and had been hoping to challenge him for his title as well. But with it now in Jay White’s hands, that opportunity was gone, and he was going to take it out on Naito. He began to come after him like Jay White had, only this time Naito seemed to muster barely any will to fight back. What was the point?

But when the two finally had their singles match, Naito finally snapped. He struck back, firing up and finally defeating Taichi. And with his fire back, he decided to go after what he had lost. After Jay White still needed to defend his title on night one. Who better to challenge for it than him?

Naito had managed to wriggle his way back into the Double Gold Dash, but he still had a long and difficult road ahead of him. After all, with Jay White going in with the Intercontinental Championship, Okada with the Heavyweight Championship, and Ibushi with the G1 Climax contract, Naito was the only participant entering the tournament with nothing. It was do or die for him. The others could bounce back, but if he failed, then he would never recover.

First order of business was Jay White, who was as crafty and malicious as ever. Furious that Naito had managed to get back into the tournament, he attacked viciously, but wisely, breaking down Naito’s body and spirit with a series of brutal and calculated attacks and taunts, all the while with his Bullet Club allies waiting on the outskirts. Naito, however, was not going to fall this time. He couldn’t afford to. And it was time to show this upstart punk who the real Alpha Asshole was around here.

Naito rallied, countering Jay’s moves and foreseeing and countering the Bullet’s Club’s offenses as well. And with the Switchblade staggered, he managed to get the upper hand and take him down with a Destino, winning both the match and the wretched Intercontinental Championship as well.

One down, one to go.

Unfortunately for him, a complication had emerged. In the main event of that night, his friendly rival Kota Ibushi took on the nearly godlike Kazuchika Okada. Now, Ibushi might be one of the most skilled and resolute wrestlers in the world, but this was Okada, and Wrestlekingdom was his domain. He was called the Final Boss for a reason, and before everyone, he took Ibushi’s best shots in a long and absolutely brilliant match before felling the Golden Star and retaining the championship.

This was a problem. See, Naito had beaten Ibushi before, and of the two of them he was the only one who had ever main-evented Wrestlekingdom. If it was Ibushi he was facing, then he would have the advantage. But not against Okada. Twice already he had tried to best Okada at Wrestlekingdom only to come up short, and the only recent victory he had over the Rainmaker was due to Los Ingobernables’ help. But in this, he had to do it himself. He had to defeat the man chosen to be his arch-rival on his own.

The second night arrived, and Naito came to the ring battered and weary. This was it. This was his final and most important chance. It was a true clash of titans, between the two biggest stars in the company, hand-picked years ago to be the ones to carry New Japan into it’s future. In this, Okada had succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, while Naito had choked and choked hard, and had to reinvent himself completely in order to finally become the star he was meant to be.

The two were complete opposites, Okada being the shining champion on top of the world, while Naito was the edgy renegade with a chip on his shoulder. Okada’s success and accolades were at a level that Naito would never be able to touch, while Naito had the love and support from the fans that Okada could never hope to equal. The two were equally jealous of one-another. Why should Okada be treated like the face of the company when it was Naito that had the crowd support, Naito that was selling the tickets, Naito that was moving all the merchandise? And why should Naito be in the main event when it was Okada who had succeeded, Okada who had risen higher and higher against Tanahashi when Naito had crashed and burned, Okada who had helmed the company and taken it to its greatest heights when Naito had left? It was like Rameses vs. Moses, a tale of two brothers.

This was going to be Naito’s greatest challenge yet.

The match started off slow, the two working their way through familiar moves, almost seeming nervous to make a mistake. Then the pace started to pick up. Naito started to feel himself and took greater and greater chances, but for everything he tried, Okada had an answer. After all, this was Okada’s world, and Naito was out of his element.

The two continued to fight, bringing the crowd to a rage. They traded finishers but each managing to kick out, neither willing to stay down. The damage was piling up, and Naito’s bruises were being felt. Ten minutes went by. Fifteen. Twenty-five. Thirty.

Now things were at their most dangerous. The few times Okada had been defeated, it was usually done within the first twenty minutes. Long matches were his specialty, and the longer it went, the more the odds favored him. Naito hit him with everything he had, move after move, counter after counter.

And then it happened. He laid Okada out, and looked to the ropes. The crowd rose to their feet in anticipation while the commentary team begged him not to do it. He couldn’t be trying for it again, could he? It had failed every time, and the last time he had faced Okada, it had cost him the match.

Not this time though.

This time there was no hesitation, no second thoughts. Naito leapt to the top rope and took flight, finally, finally, finally hitting Okada with the Stardust Press, just like he had been supposed to all those years ago.

But this was Final Boss Okada, and not even the Stardust Press could keep him down.

Another quick flurry followed. Okada try to fell Naito with a Rainmaker Lariat, but Naito ducked, and nailed him with a huge buster. It was time. He got the groggy champion to his feet, wrung his arm around, took a running start, and leapt.

Okada had countered the Destino so many times, grabbing him partway and bringing him crashing down again. Not this time though. Naito’s feet went up and up, completing a full revolution and brining Okada crashing down again. Naito then hooked the legs as the referee counted, all the world counting with him.

One!

Two!

Three!

Naito had done it. He had finally defeated Okada in the main event at Wrestlekingdom. He had claimed both the Heavyweight and Intercontinental Championships at the same time, both the title that had been denied him and the title that had denied him. And he did it as the most beloved wrestler in all of New Japan Pro Wrestling.

And as Okada was led away, Naito got onto the mic, reminded him of his words two years prior about main-eventing Wrestlekingdom again, and suggested that they should do it again in the future. And rather than be angry, Okada simply smiled, and raised his fist in acknowledgement that his little brother had finally done it.

Naito’s story certainly has not stopped there. The fact that KENTA of the Bullet Club saw fit to attack him during his victory speech tells us that Naito’s problems are far from over, and there is still Jay White waiting in the wings. But though the story goes on, nothing will ever be able to take that moment away from him, the moment when he became the first double champion, when he was able to slay the demons that had haunted him ever since his days as the Stardust Genius, when he finally ascended to the top, not as the Stardust Genius, not even really as the Ungovernable One, but as Tetsuya Naito, the Shuyaka.

And as someone whose love of pro wrestling had been reignited largely in part thanks to him, who had been following him for the last couple years as a loyal Ingobernable, who had experienced a rare moment of starstruck when I finally got to meet him, I will continue to follow every step of the way.

Tranquilo.

#njpw #new japan pro wrestling #tetsuya naito #naito #los ingobernables de japon #kazuchika okada #okada #hiroshi tanahashi #tanahashi #jay white #bullet club #wrestlekingdom #tokyo dome #pro wrestling #kenny omega #stardust genius #iwgp heavyweight championship #iwgp intercontinental championship #tranquilo

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charliefliehr · 4 years

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home | ambrollins

warnings: none, one small mention of sex. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21756655 word count: 1230 characters/era: 2018!ambrollins summary: After their match at TLC, Seth is left feeling rather emotionally drained and longing for the company of his boyfriend, Dean.

Seth and Dean had always worked in perfect harmony. No matter what role they were playing in the ring- brothers or enemies, they always put on a show worth the fans' time. This time they were playing enemies again, Dean betraying Seth a mere few weeks ago. In kayfabe, the wound of betrayal was still raw in Seth's mind. But behind the scenes, the love between the boys couldn't be dulled.

Both were seated in their locker room, preparing for tonight's upcoming pay-per-view. Dean was booked to beat Seth tonight, ending his International Championship reign- which was fine by Seth, of course. There wasn't much planned for their feud, management didn't need to write complex stories, there was enough raw energy between the two to keep them bickering and fighting for at least another few months. Although Seth knew his lover was starting to become restless and angry with WWE and their management of his character in general. Sometimes his mind wandered to if Dean would ever leave, but that just brought thoughts of fear and anxiety. He pushed those thoughts away.

Their music's roared throughout the arena, one after the other, the fans screaming numerous things. Seth kept his main objective in his head, what spots in the match he had to meet, the story that would be continued throughout their movements, the final finisher and pin, even how he was meant to react to losing. The match started before he knew it, the two of them harmoniously moving through their designed set, bouncing off each other's energy and story-telling.

Seth tried to keep his mind focused on the end goal, kept repeating what he had to do over and over again in his head. He struggled to keep in the mind of his character a bit tonight, perhaps he needed to stop thinking about real-life problems before his matches. He made a mental note on that. Seth took the final finisher, lying on the mat for the three counts. The crowd roared, his mate's music hit. He laid there, looking up at the ceiling whilst Dean celebrated his win. After Dean had celebrated and walked backstage, he rolled out of the ring whilst the promotions for the next match rolled on the titantron, walking backstage himself with the roars of the crowd accompanying him until he got back into his locker room, where they became distant shouts and screams.

A gleaming Ambrose was awaiting him, his skin red in certain spots due to spots in their match, championship slung over his shoulder. Seth knew he should be happy, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat numb about it. He braved a smile and pulled his lover into a hug. “Congratulations man,” Seth said, pulling back from the embrace, “I want her back eventually, though.” He pointed to the championship that was his, they both laughed about it as more people began to crowd the room.

“I’ll take good care of it, but ain’t so sure about giving it back,” Dean’s laughed, the sound of Dean’s after-match, after-sex voice left a warm feeling. It was much deeper and raspier than normal, his breath more laboured. Seth grabbed a drink, cooling down himself. He knew Dean had to deal with some normal business mojo, that anyone has to do upon winning a title, which gave him some time to himself. As he began to undo his boots and wrap, he realised that they were both done with the night, free to go home, free to enjoy the part of Dean he enjoyed the most, the part that only Seth and occasionally Roman got to see.

Seth hopped into the driver’s seat, getting this navigation map ready whilst Dean literally chucked his bags in the boot of the car, hopping in the passenger seat himself. He let out a heavy breath, today had been physically and emotionally draining and Seth was just ready to settle for the night beside Dean.

Home was a foreign feeling with being on the road most of the year. You had to make do with what you could. He created a home within the company of Dean; to matter what city, how different the hotel was, how long the car trips were if he was beside his taller companion, Seth was okay. The promise of just relaxing, seeing the softer side of his boyfriend, just being in his company, without any expectations of outsider influences, just the two of them, snuggling together in their dimly lit hotel room.

The music on the radio played softly, enough to lure Seth away from distracting thoughts. The raw smell of Dean, in his entirely filled the car and Seth’s senses, it might’ve been a weird thing to admit, but Seth didn’t mind.

Seth thanked whoever created cruise control in his head, it allowed Dean’s hand to rest on his thigh, it allowed for Seth to hold his boyfriend’s hand and drive, but more importantly, it allowed him to be just that inch closer to him, which he desperately craved tonight. Seth had learnt to appreciate Dean’s actions, rather than his words. He’s convinced that the moon would turn neon blue before Dean makes a speech proclaiming his love for another. But Seth wouldn’t have it any other way, he loves Dean more than he loves himself sometimes and the two of them created a perfect team.

Seth thinks that about half an hour had passed, he honestly couldn’t tell you exactly. But he looked over at Dean, who was now asleep in one of the most uncomfortable positions he’s ever seen, with his arm still extended, his hand still resting on Seth’s thigh. Seth had only a moment to appreciate how his boyfriend looked, peacefully asleep, the chains around his neck dangling, limbs everywhere. It was art to him. Dean was art. Dean is home.

Seth moved Dean’s hand when he drove into the hotel parking lot, just seeing Dean asleep and his scent still lingering had filled that emotional hole that left Seth feeling so empty just a few hours beforehand. He decided to leave Dean in the car briefly, whilst he checked in and carried all their bags up, dumping them in one corner of the room. Making quick work of undoing the made bed before him, shoving the covers over to the other side. It was a bit of a tackle to get Dean up into their room without actually physically picking him up and carrying him bridal style.

Dean was barely awake, staggering whilst Seth held him up and directed him. Seth helped him undress to a level of clothing he deemed comfortable enough to sleep in, before tucking him in bed. Within minutes, he was snoring. On any given night, this might annoy Seth but tonight it was sweet bliss. Eventually, Seth climbed into bed beside his sleeping boyfriend. Something that wasn’t discussed often was how Dean was the little spoon... most of the time.

Seth tried to stay awake, just admiring how his bare skin felt up against Dean’s bare skin, how their hands always managed to find one another, their breaths, the feeling of the blanket over them, the scents in the room, Dean’s snoring. He tried to just, admire it all. To mentally appreciate his own version of home. But, just as it did for his lover, sleep quickly eclipsed him.

#*mine #wweedit #wwe #ambrollins #dean ambrose #seth rollins #seth x dean #seth rollins x dean ambrose #dean ambrose x seth rollins #dean x seth #ambrollinsedit #sethrollinsedit #deanambroseedit #wwe fanfiction #nerdbrose #fanfiction #fanfic

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corbo-florbo · 4 years

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Fantasy Booking - Smackdown: Getting Old and Growing Up

Soooo, how about that ending to Super Showdown, huh? Yeah, I’m still reeling from that myself, but thankfully, this has altered this fantasy booking only a small amount. I guess I sat on this for too long! Rather than do a “what-if” of alternate events rather than the one we got, I figured why not run with what we’ve got? It’s even got a message I felt passionate about sharing, something I’ve been holding on to as a nostalgic person. Also, I promise this is the last one of John Cena I do for a while. Promise.

Tagging my favorite new people to talk wrestling with: @mith-gifs-wrestling and @adriennegabriella! Without further ado, here we go!

Friday Night Smackdown, the night after the Super Showdown pay-per-view. Goldberg is out, celebrating his win, as you expect - negative reactions. People are upset, angry. Almost as though they were in mourning. Goldberg cuts a promo about how he has let the WWE Universe down too many times. 2004, Wrestlemania 20, the night he left. 2017, Wrestlemania 33, his loss to Brock Lesnar before riding off into the sunset towards retirement after not being able to keep up with Lesnar. 2019, Super Showdown, the night he and Undertaker put on that horrific match. Yet, after defeating a horrifying monster, he is met with boos and jeers. “What does it take to please you people?!” The frustration and tension in the air is palpable from the sheer hatred from the WWE Universe, that Goldberg meets in kind. He’s done being Mr. Nice Goldberg, he doesn’t care what everyone wants, he just cares about “WHO’S NEXT?!”

Cue the Firefly Funhouse, as Bray Wyatt cheerfully welcomes everyone, even Goldberg. He claims that he and The Fiend harbor no ill will towards Goldberg. Goldberg has no history with Wyatt, so therefore The Fiend did not feel any need to dominate, not to mention never fighting Goldberg before. Now that Goldberg took something away from him, however, he doesn’t rule out collecting that debt. He then goes on to state that he never truly intended on obtaining the title. He was just after Seth Rollins at that time. Seth and Bray had a complicated past, so The Fiend had to make him pay like he made Finn Balor pay. Just like he eventually made Daniel Bryan pay. Miz, being the only exception, was targeted by Bray,not The Fiend, as there was little history, none of it hurting Bray in the past. The title means nothing to him, and he doesn’t mind moving on. Bray goofily asks “who’s next?” before resorting to that growl and saying the familiar “Let Me In.”

This night, John Cena returns to a warm welcome. He’s happy to see us as much as we are happy to see him. Cena states he doesn’t know how long he has left to provide to the WWE, but he knows this is his home. He remembers where he came from, the place he held it down. Just the usual standard stuff. Nothing too big, but the backstage footages of him subtly show Firefly Funhouse puppets lurking around in the background. Ironically, it is Cena that can’t see them.

Next Smackdown, the go-home to Elimination Chamber, Goldberg comes out to cut a promo asking “Who’s Next?” Out comes Roman Reigns, having ended his feud with King Corbin, and Roman looks annoyed. Pissed, even. He eyes down Goldberg, who smiles, confused.

“Roman Reigns, nice to finally meet you in person. I see you’ve adopted my spear. So what brings you out here, and what’s on your mind, son?” Goldberg does not take his eyes off Roman.

“I’mma just say this once, Bill. The Fiend worked his ass off to get to where he was. He found himself - whoever the hell that was - and the fruits of his labor was paying off. You know how hard that is to do in this company? I’ve been finding out the hard way after my ass got taken out. Y’know, I too lost the Universal Title, and I’ve been busting my ass to get back there. It’s almost fate it’s here on Smackdown with me. Now, here’s my problem with you, and people like you.

“Y’see Bill, we are the new generation, and we’ve been dying to bring something new to the table. We leave it all in the ring only to hear that today’s product sucks. That we need to bring back the Attitude Era, and now the Ruthless Aggression Era. Everyone is stuck in the past, and that’s where guys like you come in. Some familiar face that the casual fan comes in to see, and all of a sudden wrestling is magical again, it’s captivating again. Out the window goes our hard work, all that easily ignored. Of course you wouldn’t know what that’s like, you’ve had a rocket strapped to your back your whole career. Squashing people left and right in WCW, and starting off dominant coming off into WWE. Then you couldn’t handle it and you left. Came back again, and lost, and guess what? You left. You gonna leave again? Might as well leave it to someone more capable.

Unfortunately Roman isn’t done with Corbin, as he comes to the ring, and cuts a short promo, followed by Robert Roode (planting seeds for dissention between their trio involving Dolph Ziggler). Then Shinsuke Nakamura and his mouthpiece Sami Zayn (with a tinge of longing and jealousy in his voice as he gazes at the title Goldberg holds.). Braun Strowman comes out, wanting to add another title belt around his waist. Daniel Bryan comes out and cuts a promo about how lost he’s been, and he needs this Elimination Chamber match to find out which direction he needs to go. Goldberg chuckles and leaves. The match has been set and the figures are in place. To the victor goes the spoils.

That same night, John Cena issues an open challenge for Elimination Chamber, and the Firefly Funhouse music plays. Bray greets John. “Hiya John! Yowie wowie, it’s been ages since I seen you! Let’s go Cena, Cena sucks! Remember that? I do...” then Bray transitions into a growl. “And so does he.” Back to smiles, Bray continues: “You’re a hero! A legend! Shoot, at Wrestlemania 30, you defeated me, even with the help of my former Fireflies! Your many, MANY fans loved it, but there’s someone that didn’t. HE still doesn’t like that, John.” Bray goes into a hush, “Maybe he wants to meet you again. Maybe at Elimination Chamber, he wants to get his hands on you... Let me in. See ya, bye!”

Unsettled but undeterred, Cena accepts, confident. If Goldberg could take down Fiend, why not him? But it was all a trick, as at Elimination Chamber, Bray comes out instead of The Fiend, but not even as Funhouse Bray, but Muscleman Dance Bray. Just like with The Fiend, Muscleman Dance Bray (MDB for short) no-sells every move by John Cena, and dances to taunt him. Desparate, Cena goes for every Attitude Adjustment and Five-Knuckle Shuffle (enough to the point the lead-up to his moves becomes shorter, until there is no lead-up.) Cena drops more and more moves from his arsenal: Running One-Hand Bulldog, Flying Shoulder Block, and what seems most effective, the STFU. Bray powers out of each, almost rhythmically, as he goes in for the win.

Jump to the Elimination Chamber match, starting out with Shinsuke and Roode. Shinsuke seems to dominate at first, but Roode starts powering out more. They go back and forth until the next entrant comes out: King Corbin. Sami tries to help in the back, trying to distract against Corbin and Roode, which works to a degree. It matters not, for Shinsuke still struggles. He reaches for Sami, as though expecting something and Sami reaches back, barely through the Chamber wall, before being attacked by Elias and laid out. Corbin gets the pin on Shinsuke, eliminating the King of Strong Style. As he’s rolled out, Corbin hits a surprise End-of-Days on Roode, covers him for the pin, bringing the fight down to four people. Out comes Daniel Bryan, who gets the boot by Corbin. Bryan takes opportunity of this by grabbing Corbin’s leg, pulling him down for a leg lock, shades of Ric Flair. This is broken up a bit later by the next entrant, Braun Strowman, but not without a bit of wait time. His pod door won’t open, so he breaks through and breaks the submission. Grabbing Bryan, Strowman carries him and slams him down on the mat and gets the pin. A roar erupts from the Monster Among Men, taking his eyes off Corbin, who dishes out a low-blow. As Roman steps out of his pod, Strowman kicks out at 2. Roman pulls Corbin to his feet, backs to the turnbuckle and dishes out a Superman Punch. That pin is broken up by an enraged Strowman. Tying Roman to the turnbuckle using the ropes, Braun barrels into him over and over again. Corbin crawls outside near the Chamber wall, watching as this goes on. Braun takes notice. “I’M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!” as he steps over the top rope and grabs Corbin by his head. Roman gets untangled and wraps his arms around Braun’s head until he is brought over the top rope, but he lands on his feet. Two spears from Roman later, and Strowman staggers. Roman grabs his head, looks to the audience and gives a cocky smirk as he lifts Strowman up for a Jackhammer, ending with a powerful slam. 1, 2, 3. Now it’s Roman and Corbin. The two stare for a bit, Roman ever so determined, but there’s something different in Corbin’s eyes.

“I QUIT! Corbin raises Roman’s hand, and walks out of the Chamber. Confused, Roman shrugs it off and celebrates.

Next Smackdown, Roman brags about his win. “Y’all, this has been a long time comin’. My ass fought long and hard to get back to the title I never lost. I kicked leukemia’s ass. I came back and dominated, even survived a crappy attempt at manslaughter by Rowan. Most importantly I survived Corbin, and I thought that would never end!”

Almost as if a reply, Corbin’s entrance theme plays. All seriousness with Corbin as he walks to the ring. “Don’t think this means we’re buddy-buddy. I still hate you. But I hate moments when old, legendary part-timers come in and take time from us. I know that’s cheap coming from me. I got so much camera time and I’ve had that “go away heat”, but this has got to end. It’s our time, Roman. And you might just be the one to stop Goldberg. I mean, he hasn’t even showed up for a match since he won the damn title! Meanwhile, you come in every week and do your job. You’ve kicked my ass I don’t know how many times over the past few months and did you complain? No. You’ve got the heart of a lion. No matter what happens, you do not stop until he is down, you got me? You take his ass down, Roman! Put an end to this, before I put an end to you! You owe it not to yourself, or even these idiots out here. You owe it to me and everyone else backstage. Get that title, Roman. So I can take it off of you.” Corbin leaves, and Roman isn’t smiling anymore. This isn’t fun and games anymore.

In the ring later that night, Goldberg is interviewed by Michael Cole. Cole asks if Goldberg is worried about Roman, which Goldberg shrugs off and laughs. “You’re asking me if that young pipsqueak has anything on me? Please, I took out the best of ‘em. Hogan, Raven, Sting, DDP, Jericho, even Brock Lesnar. Roman’s just a guy. He’s next alright, but not for the title. He’s next for a spear. He’s next to be my victim. Come Wrestlemania, he’s dead meat.”

John Cena’s theme song hits, and he walks down the ramp. “Seems you forgot, you got one more pay-per-view between now and Wrestlemania, pops. Fastlane, remember? Isn’t that where you took out Kevin Owens?”

“Maybe, but I figured it was just a pit stop, y’know?” Goldberg retorts, his dumb old grin spreading. Meanwhile, Michael Cole steps out, knowing how this goes, being a vet to the industry. “It’s just a formality at that point. It’s a foregone conclusion. C’mon, I’m Bill freaking Goldberg. You’re just Mr. Hollywood now, so run along now pretty boy. I bet I don’t even have to hit a Jackhammer on you!”

Cena chuckles. “Now ain’t that an arrogant way to see things? After all, why not deny these people a chance to see a dream match they didn’t know they wanted?”

“Screw these people! I come back and they turn on me.”

“They’ve been against me for half my career, it ain’t nothin’ new to me old-timer. I still came in regardless. They turned on Roman too, he ain’t never turned on them though. So I think it’s time I take your old ass down a few pegs and make you humble. How does Fastlane sound?”

“Really, Cena? You think you can take on me? Name one thing you think you got that makes you think you can go toe-to-toe with me!”

A smile spreads upon Cena’s face. It’s been a while he’s been asked this. “RUTHLESS AGGRESSION!” A slap to Goldberg, which is no-sold, as per usual. He pushes Cena, and crouches for a spear, which Cena dodges, as he gives the Flying Shoulder Block. “Remember Goldberg, at Fastlane, as you’re laying flat on your back and the ref counts to three, just remember that you were next. Cena out.”

Fastlane approaches, and the two legends face off in the main event. Cena displays an offense we haven’t seen in a long time from him. He’s brutal, attacking before Goldberg. Goldberg hits him with three spears in between Cena’s bigger arsenal of moves. Still, Cena persists. Cena resorts to heelish tactics, like tricking the referee, hitting Goldberg with weapons, and using the environment to his advantage. He’s wearing down Goldberg the best he can. After an AA, he sets it up for the Five-Knuckle Shuffle, knowing an AA won’t be enough to put Goldberg down. As he gets ready for the drop, the arena goes black. With the little amount of lights, Cena can be seen suffering a Mandible Claw at the hands of The Fiend until he is incapacitated. The arena brightens up again and The Fiend is gone. Goldberg takes advantage of this and gets the pin over Cena. Goldberg is then boo’d out of the building.

The Friday following, Goldberg brags about how Cena was just another guy. “Yeah, he made me give out everything I had, but it just wasn’t enough. LIke I said, I didn’t even have to hit a Jackhammer on him! I’m going through everyone like I did him. I’m the bullet that’s shooting through all of your heroes!” He drops the mic and as he heads back through the entrance, he is met with a spear by Roman Reigns, mic in hand. “You still got me to deal with, grandpa.”

Later that night, Cena sits in a chair in the middle of the ring. The arena is dark, with all lights on him. “So I stopped your momentum back in the day, Bray. I get it. I was on my own power trip that I didn’t let you have your moment. Again, I get it. Someone with your capabilities could have taken over this company, yet I took out you and your goons. But you need to stop right now. I’m not just someone looking for a big payday. This is my home. If you keep coming after me, I will do all I can to put your ass down. Maybe I won’t last against you, you’re a different beast now. I may be looking at my next big defeat. Whatever it takes, come Hell or high water, I’ll do what it takes, even if I gotta take this golden shovel everyone claims I have, and I’ll bury your ass back to Hell where you belong!”

The Friday before Wrestlemania, Cena doesn’t show up, but he is shown in a montage vignette of getting himself in shape to take on The Fiend. Further into that evening, a Firefly Funhouse promo plays out, with The Fiend and the gang discussing John Cena. Ramblin’ Rabbit pleads with Bray to not go after Cena, before being killed again. Mercy the Buzzard says he wants to see blood run from Cena’s face. Abby the Witch asks Bray to make it quick so she can get back to her beauty sleep. Huskus the Pig simply sleeps. Bray stops the kiddie talk at the end, saying: “You’ve stopped me from taking everything over before, John. You’re next... Let me in...” Cheerful Bray returns, “See ya in Hell! Bye, bye, bye!”

The night ends with a contract signing between Goldberg and Roman Reigns. Roman signs first, not saying anything...yet. Goldberg cockily proclaims, “You’re awfully eager to get speared into an early grave! You sure you don’t wanna back out and play out the rest of your career? It’s only the end for you after Wrestlemania, young man!”

“I’m not gonna say your catchphrase, about bein’ next or whatever. I’m not gonna make any snide remarks. I am gonna put your ass down, and make an example out of you. I’m gonna send a message for every old, decrepit fossil that decides they gonna step in the ring with my generation that we ain’t gonna take it anymore. We’re sick and tired, and it’s our time. If it takes my ass getting boo’d again, so be it. At Wrestlemania, you’re not next, last, or whatever you like to say. At Wrestlemania, Bill, you’re done.” Roman leaves and Goldberg signs. Commentary remarks about how rare it is that contract signings don’t end in a calamitous brawl.

Wrestlemania time:

John Cena vs The Fiend Bray Wyatt - John shows up in regular, red and blue wrestling shorts. No more jean shorts. The Fiend stares him down regardless. Cena hits low blow after low blow, and changes his AA into an FU. Not even that stops Fiend. Shoulder Block, Five Knuckle Shuffle, Running One-Hand Bulldog, and even the Sixth Move of Doom isn’t enough to end Fiend. Each time he gets up, he hits the Mandible Claw, only to have it broken out. Cena even removes the pad from the turnbuckle, and Irish Whips Fiend in that direction, only for it to be reversed and Cena hits it face-first. There is one move Cena hasn’t tried though, and doesn’t get to try after Fiend transitions his Mandible Claw into an STFU. Cena looks like he’s about to pass out, as drool drips from his mouth and blood drips from his forehead. He taps out. The Fiend has just collected another debt.

Goldberg vs Roman Reigns (Universal Title) - Both men hit a spear on each other, first thing. Both men are flat. Goldberg attempts to knee Roman, but misses as he hits the Superman Punch. Roman even brings back moves he doesn’t use as much, such as the Drive By and the Moment of Silence. Goldberg gets up from those and spears Roman twice. Roman no-sells both of them, patting his vest, which he then takes off for the first time since he put it on in his wrestling career. He hits Goldberg with another Superman Punch, which only staggers him before giving Roman a Jackhammer, and goes for the pin, which Roman kicks out a second before the ref could count to three. Goldberg beats down on Roman’s head, until the referee forces him off. Goldberg watches impatiently as Roman gets to his feet, and quickly moves out of the way as Goldberg’s spear hits the turnbuckle post. Roman hits the “OOOH-AHHH!” before lunging another spear at Goldberg, and gets his leg up for the pin. 1, 2, 3 and Roman is reunited with the Universal Champion again.

Goldberg stays retired, having realized the error of his ways. He grows up and realizes those years as a dominant force are to be left behind him. Roman has a lengthy and entertaining reign (see what I did there?), and loosens up again, being laid-back and entertaining to the fans. John Cena sticks around for a bit, becoming more brash and abrasive, having gone heel, and he targets Roman, who has to teach another old man a lesson. As for Bray, he hints at targeting Roman in the future. Maybe not now, but someday, he will get that title back, as he still has a score to settle with Roman. But next on his agenda? The Undertaker. Survivor Series. Four decades since The Deadman's debut.

#john cena #WWE #fantasy booking #goldberg #bill goldberg #roman reigns #the fiend #bray wyatt

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llzehs · 5 years

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As a fan of these three, but most importantly as a fan of Dean Ambrose, this video is everything to me. To know the company Dean almost killed his body for doesn’t appreciate him, but his peers and brothers make sure Dean knows how much he’s loved and admired and respected for everything he has done for the locker room and the business just warms my heart so much. Seth and Roman’s love for Dean is out there.

I firmly believe WWE had nothing to do with this. It was all Seth (& Roman). Two locker room leaders who realize they are losing the backbone of the company they have worked so hard to built their legacies around. I am so grateful for them always having Dean’s back.

The contrast between Roman and Seth’s relationship with Dean is beautiful. Roman’s clearly Dean’s best friend in real life, but Seth’s someone who loves and respects Dean SO MUCH for what they have shared in this business. The way he loves Roman and Dean both, you can easily see how genuine and sincere and grateful he is for their presence in his working place.

The absolute cuteness that is Roman and Dean’s friendship/bond 😭 You watch them, and you can easily tell how close they are. Dean’s an utter goofball. Watch at 4:36 mark, while Seth’s showering him with praises and saying how much he’s learned from Dean and how much he loves him Dean leans into Roman and Roman so attentively turns to him but then break into a hilarious set of laughter at whatever Dean said. Its like when it comes to Dean, Roman’s always like ‘omg why you gotta be like this, you are such a fool and I love your ridiculous ass so much’ 😂

Dean being the source of Roman’s constant smile, the way his eyes crinkle and the way he shakes his head in amusement and adoration...My heart just can’t take it. He loves Dean so much.

This video also soothes the ache and worry for Dean cuz Dean genuinely looks at peace with his decision. He seems so happy that he was able to work one last time with his brothers, and for someone who’s not big on using words, him being so expressive when it comes to how much he loves Roman and Seth is just beautiful and tells you what a sweet soul he really is.

Roman’s body language was depressing to be honest, but at the same time it looked like he chose to focus on celebrating his boy rather than dwelling on losing him. He knows Dean is happy, and that matters the most. You can tell through the whole video that was the vibe between Dean and Roman.

This also showed to me that Dean’s extremely shy when it comes to expressing emotions in front of the world. Like, you can tell its not his thing to listen to someone tell him how amazing he is. He tries to turn focus back on Roman and Seth even when the moment was about him and its just so sweet and admirable cuz it just shows how down to earth he really is and how much he values the relationships and bonds he formed.

The most important and admirable thing about Dean is that he’s such a positive human. He has so many things to be bitter about, but he’s simply grateful for fans and moving onto the next chapter of his life. He doesn’t hold grudges, he doesn’t complain, he never focuses on negativity even though he has ton of reasons to do so. This man is just a professional on a complete different level.

Seth’s ‘we gotta give my boy the send off he deserves’ and ‘I love you please would you come out here so I can tell you that to your face’ had me like 😭 😭 😭 And the way he smiled like ‘yes’ when Dean’s music hit like he half expected him not to come...I just can’t.

Dean looking an absolute piece of art in his new leather jacket, neat jeans and fancy watch and earing 🤤 Boy is leaving but he is glowed up to the fullest.

At 3:44 mark just before entering the ring when Dean’s perched up on the ropes, he points at both Roman and Seth and yells something. Which to me seemed like he was proudly claiming they were his boys/brothers which is cute as fuck if that was the case.

Dean being an utter cutie when he comes into the ring and after hugging Seth is raising his arm, once again trying to turn HIS moment into THEIRS. The smile on Seth’s face is so cute, and then he’s shaking his head and shrugging it off as like he’s implying ‘nah its bout you tonight’ which just makes me 😭

WWE never treated Dean as Seth or Roman’s equal, but here you have Seth giving all credit to Dean for his success. Roman has also talked about Dean in interviews like Dean’s the most important thing. Which is just like a slap in the face for WWE, cuz there’s your top guys, the faces of your company telling you even though you paid Dean dust, they see him as someone without whom they wouldn’t have happened anyways.

‘Please don’t go’ chant and Seth heartbreakingly saying he has already tried that and it didn’t work 😔 Also his voice broke when he started saying ‘that title wouldn’t be around my waist if it wasn’t for Dean Ambrose’.

Dean still avoiding addressing the exact subject of his departure. He’s a closed book, and only future will tell what’s really going on with him. But I get the vibe he’ll eventually be back in WWE.

For Dean nothing matters more than the bonds he formed with the Shield, his brothers being the best thing that ever happened to him. He gets the mic and that’s all he wants to talk about. Not him. Not his future. But his brothers and what they mean to him. He’s so unselfish and loyal, and you can tell he NEEDED this after WWE put him through emotional hell by making him use his best friend’s real life situation for storyline purposes. Dean loves wrestling, but money, titles, top spots, he was never here for that. So its fitting how he values the thing which gave him the most in this business, and that’s the bonds/relationships he got cuz of The Shield.

These three are super proud of being the work horses of WWE for these last 7 years. That’s what brings them even closer to each other. Same passion, same goals, and in the end what matters the most is how much they love each other outside of this business.

Dean’s so pure. Even if WWE never let him reach his true potential, he’s so damn proud of his brothers for getting there. No jealously. No bitterness. He’s just so proud like ‘yeah that’s my brothers you fuckers’ which is just beautiful.

Also Dean’s the goofy child of the group, cracking jokes and all. Seth and Ro are always shaking their heads, laughing and looking at him with hearteyes. It makes me so happy cuz after the life Dean lived, its so comforting to know he has people who love and admire him so much. And values him to the moon.

Dean’s ‘woofs’ omg how cute is he 😂

Seth and Dean being able to have their happy ending after the hell hole WWE put them both through. They deserve it after they were forced into doing something neither one of them wanted to do after losing their cornerstone in Roman. I am so happy they are here proclaiming their respect and love for each other and going out the way they deserved.

At 7:16 mark when Dean’s talking about fans making a building matter, you can see Seth’s face in the background and it looks like he’s crying 😔

Thank you Dean chants 😭 Finally some acknowledgment and respect from fans that he deserves so much. Roman and Seth making sure their boy got it. I love them so much for this.

At 8:00 mark when Dean’s done, Seth is raising his fist and his lips are trembling as he looks at Dean with this smile, then when Dean beckons them in the middle to do their fist bump, Roman just looks at him, trying to keep his composure but its pretty evident he’s crying too. That just broke my heart, cuz Seth and Roman are so damn sad and heartbroken, and even if they are trying to be supportive and celebrate their boy and wish him the best in future, they cannot help but be emotional cuz they won’t have him anymore which is fucking hard to deal with. Its bittersweet really. It makes me wish Dean would one day come back in the arms of two guys who loves and admire him the most. He belongs with them, and its so sad cuz of WWE’s constantly fuckery these three have to loose something so precious and special.

Right before the video ends Dean and Roman are leaning on the ropes side by side and Dean is laughing this full laugh at something Roman says and its so good to see him happy again specially with his best friend 😭

All in all, The Shield will live forever. I wish Dean the best in future. I am grateful he has people like Roman and Seth in his life. Specially Roman who’ll still remain being a very big part of his life.

#The Shield #Dean Ambrose #Roman Reigns #Seth Rollins #WWE #Ambreigns #RAW #Post RAW #Thank You Dean #Goodbye Dean #WWE.com #Thoughts #Highlights #OP

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msbigredmachine · 5 years

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The Roman and Jaida Series, Part 2 - We Are Closer

As Roman and Jaida deal with the aftermath of their passionate encounter the night of Blizzard Raw, a new challenge arrives in the shape of a face from one person's past. The sequel to "We Are Fire".

---------------

"So..." Summer Rae started as she picked on her chicken salad in the hotel restaurant, "You hear Roman tapped Dana Brooke last night?"

Alicia raised an eyebrow. "The Kaitlyn clone from NXT? Really?" When Summer nodded, Alicia chewed her breakfast and then sighed. "Well, you can add another name to the list," she smiled, raising a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice to her lips.

"Not surprised," Summer said with a shrug. "You shoulda seen her last night. You left the bar early. She was all over him."

"And now she's been under him too," Alicia concluded. "I hope she's not expecting more 'cause that's how far she's gonna get with him."

Sitting between the two women, Jaida took her time sipping her orange juice, refusing to partake in the discussion. Inwardly she wished they didn't talk so much about the man in question. It was common knowledge that both ladies had given in to the charms of the Samoan powerhouse, but neither knew that the seamstress, only a week ago, had also done the same. And if she had her way, they would never know about it. She had no interest in being dragged into lewd conversations and comparing sexual notes about him all the time. "So…what are y'all doing for Valentine's Day next week?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Nothing," Alicia said grumpily, still smarting from her recent break-up with Wade Barrett. Jaida winced at her own insensitivity.

"We could room together," suggested Summer, "Watch shitty chick flicks and eat Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream."

Alicia laughed. "Sounds utterly pathetic, but I'm down for that." She then looked over at Jaida texting on her phone. "What about you Jay? What are you up to next week?"

Summer said, "Probably hooking up with that hunky guy she's been talking to all week. Your ex, right Jaida?"

And then there was that.

Alicia sat up straighter, looking back forth between the two women eagerly for the fresh gossip. "Ex? What ex?"

Summer faced Alicia to fill her in. "His name's Lincoln, and he's coming over today to pick her up and take her out on a date. That's why she's not eating anything."

Jaida shook her head, glancing out the massive glass window of the restaurant. "You need to quit bein' so damn nosy." She looked back inside to see Roman walking in, accompanied by former Funkadactyl Cameron, and her train of thought was temporarily derailed. "And it's not a date. We haven't seen each other in a long time. He's in town so we decided we're gonna catch up, that's all."

"Can I see a picture?" Alicia asked, and Jaida passed her phone to her. "Holy shit, he's hot! Why do you keep all this juicy shit from us, Jay? I thought we were friends," she whined. "What else are you hiding, huh?"

Oh, you don't wanna know. Taking another glance at her phone, Jaida rose to her feet and picked up her bag. "I gotta go, guys. I'll be back in an hour, two tops. Y'all don't need me, right?"

"He's here already? Aren't you gonna introduce us?" asked Alicia.

Jaida scrunched up her nose. "Hell no. I'm not bringing him near any of you," she said, pointing an orange fingernail at both of them.

Alicia shook her head. "Fine, be selfish. Get one in for us though."

"Ain't nothin' to get in. We're friends."

"For now you are," said Summer, hugging her goodbye. "Don't be too long, we've got Main Event and SmackDown tonight."

Jaida made her way out of the restaurant, walking past Roman and Cameron's table like they weren't there. Ever since their little tryst, the seamstress was doing everything in her power to keep away from Roman. It was easy to pass it off as her continued hatred for him since most of the roster already knew the two were constantly at loggerheads. But if the sexual tension was meant to dissipate after their night together, it hadn't gotten the memo yet because if anything it seemed to get even worse for Jaida. She had her game face down pat in public, but behind closed doors was a different scenario. She couldn't get him or the amazing sex they had out of her mind or her dreams; sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night sweating and, to her horror, her hand between her legs. The man himself wasn't making things any easier. The backbiting hadn't stopped, but his remarks were more innuendo-laden and the look in his grey eyes was more loaded than usual. She hadn't forgotten about him wanting her to stay the night. To her knowledge, none of the girls he fucked slept over. Jaida could only chalk it down to his vulnerable state of mind at the time. If she hadn't been the one to show up at his door, it would have been someone else and he would have told her the same thing. He'd probably said that to Cameron and now there she was by his side. He'd moved on to the next one so it was time she moved on too.

Outside the restaurant she looked for an approaching vehicle, as was said in the text message, and rolled her eyes with a huge smile when a black stretch limousine pulled up in front of her. Only one person she ever knew was capable of such a thing. The back door opened for her and she shook her head with a grin.

"Some things never change," she muttered. She climbed into the limo, unaware of the narrowed pair of grey eyes that had watched everything from inside the restaurant.

------------------

"You look different," Jaida observed as she ate her chicken salad. The handsome man across the table from her did look different. His head was shaven and he had this five o'clock shadow thing going on that looked really good. He'd put on a bit of lean muscle, filling the black business suit he was wearing very well and further accentuating his good looks.

Lincoln flashed her a familiar thousand-watt smile as he sipped from his water glass. "In a good way, I hope?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Still stylin' and profilin' I see, with the limo and everything."

"What can I say? Life's been good. And you are still as beautiful as the last time I saw you," said Lincoln.

Jaida smiled at her ex-boyfriend. "You're too kind. It's been a while." She'd missed him and had thought about calling him a number of times. When she saw the email he sent her a couple of days ago, they got to chatting again like they'd never been apart. It turned out he was in town this week, so they agreed to meet today.

"It's been too long, actually. I've missed you constantly badgering me about the horrible sneakers I used to wear to work," Lincoln laughed, though Jaida didn't miss the tinge of longing in his voice as he spoke. He continued before she could make a comment. "And speaking of work, how's it going? WWE, huh? Never imagined you being there."

"I know, right?" Jaida went on to chronicle her interesting several months working for the biggest wrestling promotion in the world, designing and making ring gear for the WWE ladies. It wasn't the glitzy catwalks of Milan and Paris that she always dreamed of, but the squared circle of the WWE was just as huge a global platform to show off her talents. Lincoln listened attentively, as she expected him to. He always was a good listener.

"Wow, that sounds amazing," he said, nodding approvingly. "You're obviously having a blast."

"I am. And what about you, Mr. Chief Marketing Officer? How's it going over at our favorite magazine?

Picking up his cutlery, he focused on a piece of his steak. "No idea. I left."

Jaida's eyes grew wide. "What? When?"

"About three months after you did. I felt terrible about the way the company treated you before you left. It takes two to tango, and it wasn't like any of those hypocrites weren't doing the exact same thing we were doing."

Jaida remembered it like it was yesterday. Only eighteen months ago they were colleagues. She was his secretary at her last job at a world-renowned fashion magazine, and it was the reason her poker face was as foolproof as it was today. About six months into her job they became romantically involved and it went on in secret for over a year, until a jealous ex-girlfriend of Lincoln's exposed their relationship. The fallout was so humiliating that it prompted Jaida to sever all ties with Lincoln, uproot herself from L.A. and migrate to the East Coast. She needed space and time to regroup and rebound, and it eventually came in the form of the job offer from the WWE.

"So, I handed in my resignation letter and was gone by the summer," Lincoln went on. "I couldn't take it anymore. Plus I got tired of being the son of the owner of the company. It was a crutch I didn't need and it ended up wrecking my chances with the woman I loved," he said, staring intently at Jaida as her eyes softened. "So yeah, I seized that opportunity to move on and do something else with my life. So I got my own business now. It's not a Fortune 500 company, but it's doing great."

"You're your own man now. The ladies must be falling over their feet to get to you, more so now than ever," said Jaida.

Smiling, Lincoln shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm not interested in any of ‘em."

"Hmm."

Their eyes locked together in an intimate stare. Leaning forwards, Lincoln rested his elbows on the table. "So…who's the lucky guy I have to contend with now? Or maybe not, seeing how gargantuan they all are," he added, chuckling at his little joke.

A certain Samoan flitted through her mind that very moment, and she immediately chastised herself, horrified. "There's no one. Free as a bird," she answered.

"I guess that's good for me, right?" He looked right into her eyes, and Jaida knew that look anywhere. Swallowing, she shook her head. "Linc-"

Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his own. "I've missed you, Jay-Jay. I think about you every day, and I wish things didn't end the way they did," he said. "I want to start over with you as friends. I know it's too soon for anything more, but I'd really like to have you back in my life." He kissed the back of her hand. "So what do you say? Is that okay?"

Jaida still cared about Lincoln. In their time together they had developed a strong connection, physically and emotionally. Having not heard from him since leaving her old job and being so busy with the WWE slowly diminished that connection. A lot had changed between them, but starting again as friends didn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe eventually, they could grow to become something more again.

"Okay."

More importantly, maybe it could help her forget about him.

-----------------

Looking around the vast Catering area, Roman's gaze fell upon the entryway, where a young dark-skinned woman strolled in arm-in-arm with Natalya. "Who's the girl? Been seein' her around lately," he asked Seth next to him.

Seth looked up, and then looked back down at his phone. "Jaida. Sandra's new assistant," he answered, "Heard she came in from one of those chick magazines. The girls have been raving about her sewing skills or something."

So she was a seamstress. It didn't really surprise the Pensacola native. One could tell she was fashion-forward with the way she dressed, though there was an effortlessness about her style that he liked. She wore a baggy monochrome chiffon blouse with a short black pencil skirt and ankle strap heels, a maroon bowler hat perched on her head. He could tell that she had a cute little body; perfect for twisting into various raunchy positions...

"She's a cool chick," Dean spoke up, biting into a chicken leg. "Seems a little high-maintenance though. Like, buy her fake designer shit and she'll call you out."

"Sounds like every other broad in this joint. She'll fit right in," Seth laughed, saw the look on Roman's face, and groaned. "Oh God…dude."

Roman was still looking at the woman, but an eyebrow was raised for his Shield brother's benefit. "What?"

"I see that fuckin' look in your eye, man. You're makin' a play for her already."

"And?"

"Do you always have to nail every woman that passes through this company?"

"Hey, they come to me. Who am I to deny them?"

"One of these days one of 'em will kick you in the balls, or break your finger when you grope them. I guarantee it."

The trio finished up their breakfast and then went their separate ways. With nothing to do for another hour, Roman decided to search for the newbie, wanting an up-close look for himself. Who knew? Perhaps it could be the start of a beautiful…friendship…between them.

He found her backstage outside the women's locker room reading a magazine. A cocky smile tugged his lips. "Hi."

She looked up, and Roman was instantly drawn to her eyes; wide and almond-shaped with a mix of green and grey that he had never seen before. Her pretty face was contorted into a frown.

He extended his hand. "I don't think we've met. I'm Roman."

She glanced down at the outstretched hand. A second or two passed before she put her hand in his for a quick handshake. "Jaida," she said coolly before returning to her reading.

Roman quietly blew out a breath. They always tried to put up a front, only for their resolve to crumble soon afterwards. She would be no different. "Jaida. Beautiful name." He leaned against the table next to her. "So how you doin'?"

"Good," she replied uninterestedly.

"May I ask why a pretty lady like yourself is sitting all alone?"

Jaida shrugged. "I don't know," she said, refusing to look at him. "Definitely not to listen to the cheesy one-liners you're about to throw my way."

"Cheesy one-liners? Come on."

"Yeah. The other day I saw you chatting up one of the girls while she dreamily twirled her hair in her finger," said Jaida. "If you expect the same from me, sorry to disappoint. I'm not very good at playing the dumb floozy."

Roman had an amused look on his face. "I think we're starting off on the wrong foot."

"No, I'm perfectly fine where we've started. Shouldn't you be off somewhere keeping your little girlfriends in check or something?"

"I don't have a girlfriend, sweet pea. I'm free as a bird."

"It's Jaida, not sweet pea," she snapped.

"I kinda like sweet pea. Suits you. So if that's what I want to call you, that's what I'ma call you."

"Because you always get what you want, don't you?" Finally, she turned to face him, a look of annoyance on her face.

Roman stared at this mouthy little woman, growing annoyed himself. No woman had ever talked to him this way before. Ever. "Hey, I'm trying to be nice here. There's a lot of ladies, and I mean a lot," he bit back, "that are dying to be in your place right now, getting all this attention I'm giving you."

"Then go find them and leave me alone."

"Why all this hostility, sweet pea?" Roman said, unwilling to give up just yet. "I mean, we're going to be working together; we might as well take this time to get to know each other, ya know?"

Jaida rolled her eyes. "I think I know you just fine, Reigns. But thanks for the offer."

"So you do know my name."

"I don't have a choice. You and your buddies seem to be the shit around here. Though I don't see why," she said, giving him a disapproving look up and down.

"You got quite the mouth on you, sweet pea," Roman said, moving closer. Raising his hand to touch her cheek, his voice dropped an octave. "How 'bout you show me what else that pretty little mouth can do later tonight?"

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Then, she did something he never in a million years expected her to do. She twisted her face and sank her teeth into his index finger. Hard, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Oww! What the fuck!" he cried, shocked. Did this bitch just bite him?

"My name is Jaida. I don't want your so-called attention, so unless you got problems with your ring gear I suggest you stay the hell away from me," she warned. With that she stormed away, her high heels clicking angrily on the concrete.

Rubbing his finger gingerly, Roman narrowed his eyes at her retreating form. "Crazy bitch," he murmured angrily. She had another thing coming if she thought he was going to leave her alone. She hadn't seen the last of him, not by a long shot.

As pissed off as she had made him, he was also very much aware of how much this little altercation had aroused him.

Roman was used to having Jaida Leonard on the brain most of the time; thinking up new ways in which to get on her nerves and generally make her life miserable. Fucking her was also somewhere on his to-do list, and he figured that once he did that, she would lose her appeal. But he had fucked her, more than a week ago, and since then all he could fucking think about was her.

Her poker face impressed the hell out of him though. She was damn smooth about it too. Other girls would have acted out, hunting him down demanding answers or openly casting pathetic, lovesick glances from a distance. Nothing from her. Even when he stoked the fire by dropping obvious hints or parading another girl on his arm, she completely ignored him, and it was starting to aggravate him. He preferred it when they were constantly fighting. He knew something was very wrong with him when he saw her drive away in that limo with that guy in the back seat earlier this morning and his chest felt clogged. A tingling sensation settled in his stomach every time he thought about her or looked at her, as opposed to his groin. That wasn't a good thing. Tingling sensations belonged in his dick, not in his stomach or his chest or anywhere else.

This was all her fault. Why did she have to be so goddamn irresistible?

Turning a corner, he came to an abrupt stop and rolled his eyes. Speak of the damn she-devil.

At the end of the hallway, Jaida stood by her sewing station, engaged in friendly conversation with Lana. Keeping himself hidden from their view, he took the chance to observe the seamstress. Dressed in a sleeveless yellow crop top, a high-waist A-line skirt and black wedges, her curled hair framing her face and shoulders, she looked like a doll. Lana then waved and continued down the other end of the hallway while Jaida disappeared round a corner. Looking around to ensure he wasn't being watched, Roman followed her.

This was crazy. He'd banged her. He'd gotten what he wanted; he had no clue why he still craved her attention but here he was, scurrying after her like a big-ass rat.

He found the seamstress searching for something in a closet, that backside he fantasized about in his downtime poking out, causing his tongue to dart out over his lips. Quietly, he came up behind her and placed both hands on her hips.

She jumped with a shriek, spinning around. "Jesus, Reigns! You fuckin' scared me!"

"Sorry." The stupid little grin on his face indicated that he was anything but.

Rolling her eyes, Jaida subtly stepped back from him. "Did you want something?"

"You know the answer to that, sweet pea," he replied. "I was wondering earlier; do you get fancy limos to come pick you up in every town we're in? You gotta hook me up with that shit."

Laughing, she placed a bunch of folded clothes on top of the equipment crate. "And here I thought you couldn't detach your face from some trick's pussy long enough to see what's goin' on around you," she said.

"Funny. So who was he?"

Jaida met his eyes with a smirk. "Why do you care? Is someone jealous?" She threw the word out there to see what his reaction would be.

Roman snorted derisively. "You wish."

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Jaida leaned against the equipment crate and crossed her arms. "He and I used to work together."

"And let me guess, y'all hooked up." Her prolonged silence and averted gaze told him much more than he expected. "Oh, you dated. Interesting," he sang. "You gotta thing for your co-workers huh?"

Jaida scoffed. "I do not have a thing for my co-workers. And just 'cause you and I fucked one time doesn't automatically mean I have a thing for you," she said, unable to keep the agitation out of her voice. "And who are you to talk about co-workers when you're the one fucking half the girls on the damn roster? I see Cameron's the latest victim. Go find your new girlfriend why don't you?"

"She's not my girlfriend. And if I wanted to see her I'd be where she is right now." Taking her by the hand, he maneuvered her out of public view and into a darkened area where more equipment crates were stationed. He then backed her up against the one furthest in. Jaida's eyes were wide the entire time. "Reigns, what are you doing?" she demanded, watching him place his hands back on her hips.

"What's it look like I'm doing?"

"You can't! And someone could see us!" she hissed, glancing over her shoulder cautiously.

"No one will see us, look where we are. And even if so, what's wrong with that?"

The seamstress glared at him. "The whole world don't need to know you've sank your claws into me."

"Ain't the only thing I've sank into you, is it sweet pea?" he whispered with a devious smirk. He loomed over her, his big body surrounding her and invading her space. Being so close to him was both making her uncomfortable and turning her on, and she wasn't sure which emotion too choose. She wanted to push him away, and at the same time she wanted him so badly she could taste it. Avoiding his eyes, she said, "You've already fucked me, Reigns. What more could you possibly want from me?"

Roman caught her chin, gently tilting it up so that their eyes met again. "I told you I'd have you again, and I always make good on my promises. You gonna pretend you don't want that too? Huh? You wanna act like you don't think about the night we shared? Because I know you do."

Without warning, he lifted her up and sat her on top of the equipment crate, wedging his body between her legs. He pressed himself against her, and his nose dipped into her hair, inhaling its appealing scent. Reflexively Jaida put her hands on his chest, but not to push him away. She felt the firmness of muscle, the heat exuding from his olive skin. "Reigns…" she drawled.

"I remember everything clearly, baby girl," Roman said in her ear. "Your hot breath on my neck, your tongue in my mouth; the way you moaned my name over and over as your tight-as-fuck pussy clenched my dick…I get fuckin' hard every time I think about it." He ran a hand up her bare thigh, a small smile forming when she shivered in response. "Wonder if that man of yours makes you feel like this," he mused, his gruff voice even huskier, his teeth nibbling her earlobe. "If his touch makes you shiver the way mine does."

Jaida had forgotten how to breathe. Visions of their night of passion sparked wildly in her mind, which was now hazy from the kisses Roman was trailing up the left side of her neck. His hand boldly made its way into her crop top, leaving goose bumps on her skin in its wake. As he placed his palm over her right breast and squeezed, a moan she couldn't control escaped her lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and used her leg strength to draw him closer, weaving her fingers through his hair. He continued to suckle her neck, the spiky hairs of his goatee tickling her skin. His hand slipped inside her skirt to cup her mound, rubbing her through her dampened panties. "Wow, sweet pea. All this wet pussy for me?" he asked.

Before she could conjure up any coherent words to respond, he slipped two fingers inside her and stroked her wet core. She rewarded him with a long moan and eyes that fluttered shut. He plunged his fingers deeper, brushing the pad of his thumb over her clit, and she squirmed in a very satisfying way. He kept at it, relishing the sounds of her heavy breathing, then pulled his fingers out, pleased at the way she whimpered in protest. With a smirk, he pushed back in, curling his fingers inside her.

"Fuck, Roman…" It was pleasure overload for Jaida. Her forehead rested on his shoulder, clutching his massive biceps to support her weakening frame. Her entire body was on fire and tingling from head to toe. His mouth found hers the instant she lifted her head. They kissed fervently, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the heated silence. He drew her tongue into his mouth, sucking hard on it. His fingers plunged deeper, thrusting faster until she was moaning and rocking her hips against his hand. His arousal pressed insistently against her inner thigh. She was helpless, only cognizant of her raging need for him. She let herself luxuriate in his touch, enjoying the boldness of it, the intimacy, the sensuality of him confidently exploring her body.

The shrill, off-putting sound of her cell phone ringing permeated through the thick haze of passion. They were both more than willing to ignore it, but a few more insistent rings forced Jaida to break the kiss. On the equipment crate, Lincoln's name lit up her phone screen. Shifting so that Roman’s fingers slipped out of her, she pushed off the crate, landing on her feet, and picked up the device. "Gotta take this," she muttered dazedly, a hint of an apology in her green eyes.

Roman cleared his throat. "Whatever." He took a step back from her, hating how disappointed he felt at that very moment. But as he turned to leave, he felt her grab his arm. With her phone at her ear, she pulled his hand up to her mouth and sucked the fingers that had been inside her. He swore under his breath as he watched her taste herself, her tongue rolling around his fingers, and the erotic contact lit a fire within the Pensacola native like never before.

Jaida forced herself to let go of him, and with a wink, she walked away, more turned on than she already was. As she refocused on talking to Lincoln, one thought ran through her mind.

Boy, am I in big trouble.

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Valentine's Day

"Jaida! Presents for you!"

At the sound of Sasha Banks’ chirpy voice, Jaida turned around, her perfectly manicured eyebrows coming together in confusion, and it took her a few seconds to register the items in Sasha's toned arms; a sizable bouquet of red roses wrapped in green paper, and a large box of chocolates. "For me?" she said. She wasn't expecting any gifts.

"Yeah, and guess who sent them. Starts with an L, ends with an N," the Boss said, wiggling her eyebrows at the seamstress.

Unable to suppress a smile, Jaida reached for the bouquet, scooping it out of Sasha's hands and bringing it close to her face to inhale their scent. "Oh wow. They're beautiful," she said.

"I know right?" Sasha agreed, reading the card that came with it. "My darling Jaida, so happy to have you back in my life. Thinking of you now and always. Love, Linc." She sighed dramatically. "Honey, you are so lucky I'm with my man. I'da found a way to steal that hunk from right under your nose."

"I don't doubt that for a second," Jaida chuckled, touching one of the roses, feeling its velvety softness beneath her fingertips. At the thought of Lincoln, she felt a pleasurable tingle within her. Things were going well between them. They weren't officially dating, but it was heading in that direction. Recently they kissed for the first time in over a year, and while it was as nice as she last remembered, it didn't quite compare to that of a certain long-haired, tattooed individual.

Yeah. Him. She still couldn't get him out of her head, and it was starting to get on her nerves.

The hairs on her arm suddenly stood on end, and she felt the sensation of being watched. Glancing up, she found Roman's gaze on her. Of course. He was a number of feet away but she could still see his face clearly. His expression was unreadable, making her wonder what was going through his head at that moment. They were back to ignoring each other, right after their make-out session the night of the tapings. She thought she had him figured out but she found him more befuddling than ever.

Jaida remembered the first time she laid eyes on him, all those months ago. She'd gotten lost in the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit and stumbled upon him in a deserted hallway, making out with some girl, who she now knew was Eva Marie. The two were clearly on the way towards more explicit activity so she'd quietly gone the other way unseen. In retrospect, she wasn't very pleased that she was now lumped together with the redhead as one of his probably many backstage frolics. Only hours later he was flirting with Summer, the woman twirling her finger in her hair as she stared adoringly at him. Jaida knew what he was all about from then on. He was a guy that evidently got what, or who he wanted whenever he wanted, and she wanted no part of it. She'd lashed out at him when he hit on her, but deep down she knew that sooner or later they would cross paths in more ways than one, and she was right. She finally understood the hype though, and she was coming to terms with the fact that she may like him a little more than the boundaries of mere physical attraction permitted. But she knew better than to let her feelings cloud her judgment and dive into something she could not get out of. She knew what she was like. If she slept with him again she would fall, just like she'd fallen for Lincoln. And unlike Lincoln, there was no certainty that the feeling would be mutual with Roman. After all, what made her so special that she was the one, of all the women he'd been with, he would change his habits for?

This was not a fairytale. Life did not work that way and she didn't feel like waiting around crossing her fingers and hoping that it did. So yeah, distancing themselves from each other was for the best. Now she had to figure out how to distance herself from him mentally.

---------------

After a long evening, Jaida was relaxing on her bed in the hotel room she shared with Summer, biting into a piece of Lincoln's truffles and listening to her R&B playlist on Pandora when there was a knock on the door. A hotel employee stood outside, holding a long rectangular box sealed with a thin red bow. "I have a delivery for Miss Leonard?"

Jaida was pleasantly surprised as she took it from him. "Thanks."

"No problem, ma'am. Happy Valentine's."

She said the same to him and shut the door. She scanned the box for a moment, a smile on her face as she pulled off the ribbon and opened the box. Nestled inside was a long, single-stem red rose. She took it out and inhaled it. Aw, he was so sweet. Taking her phone, she dialed up his number, grinning giddily.

"Hey. Was just thinking about you," Lincoln greeted.

"As I you," Jaida said, making her voice as seductive as possible. "Someone's been generous today."

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh. Flowers and candy in the morning, a single rose this evening…you're spoiling me, Linc."

Lincoln chuckled. "Trust me darling, I'd like nothing more than to take credit for something that's made you so happy," he said, "but not this time. The rose didn't come from me."

It was like a record had scratched in her head, bringing everything to a screeching halt. "Wait, you didn't send this?"

"No babe. Looks like you got a secret admirer. I'm not surprised, beautiful girl like you…"

Lincoln was still talking, but Jaida could no longer hear him. Her heart was pounding wildly, slamming against her ribs. Lincoln hadn't sent her the rose. And if it wasn't Lincoln…

And then she saw it. A small white card inside the box. Jaida picked it up and flipped it open, her eyes growing wide when she read the words written inside.

Happy Valentine's Day, Sweet Pea.

An unpleasant foreign sensation began to envelope her, making her lightheaded, but Jaida fought it off so she could refocus on Lincoln, hoping, praying, that her voice didn't betray her true sentiments. "Oh, uh, guess what? I just found the little note that came with the box. Turns out the rose is for Summer. I found it on my bed so I assumed...My bad." She forced a giggle, trying to sound embarrassed. "I better put this back then."

"You sound disappointed," said Lincoln. "If you want I could send you another bouquet."

Jaida forced a smile into her voice. "Oh no, that's okay. You've done more than enough for me." She feigned a loud yawn, desperate to get out of this awkward situation. "I should go to bed. I have an important meeting tomorrow."

"I'll let you go. I got some work to finish up myself." He paused. "I miss you."

She could tell there was something else he wanted to say. "Miss you too. Goodnight."

As soon as she hung up, she lunged for the hotel room phone on her nightstand and with trembling hands dialed a room number. A familiar deep timbre resounded from the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing sending me flowers, Reigns?" Jaida hissed into the phone. "Are you fuckin’ kidding me?"

Roman's voice danced with amusement. "Is that your version of a thank you, sweet pea?"

"No jackass! What are you playing at? If this is your idea of a joke it's not funny."

"You are one ungrateful broad, you know that?"

Jaida frowned. "And you are an ass. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Every day, baby. Now where's my thank you? I'm waiting."

Rolling her eyes with a heavy sigh, she relented, forcing herself to calm down. "Thank you for the rose. It's beautiful," she said. "Happy?"

"Very."

Silence fell between the two of them for a long moment. "What'cha doin' right now?" Roman finally said, his voice softer.

A warm smile crossed her features. "Nothing. I'm in my room. Summer went off with Fandango I think, so I'm all alone tonight."

"Yeah, I saw them. You sound like you're having fun."

"Come over," she blurted out.

Again, it went quiet, and Jaida immediately regretted opening her mouth.

"Boyfriend ain't around to tuck you in?" Roman taunted, and the teasing rumble of his baritone voice sent embarrassment through her. "You know what, forget I said anything," she mumbled.

"Make up your mind, woman," Roman chuckled. "You want me to come over or not?"

Jaida chewed her bottom lip. This was wrong. So wrong. And yet it was all she wanted. "Yeah."

"Fine. I'll be there in ten minutes. Wear something pretty so I can take it off of you." And he hung up without another word. Jaida stared at the phone before slowly replacing it on the receiver. Oh boy. There was no turning back now. She might as well get dressed. Or rather, undressed.

When the door opened, Roman walked in, holding up a bottle of Rosé and two glass flutes. "I brought champagne. Hotel provided a complimentary bottle to all the Superstars." He smiled as he looked Jaida over. She was dressed in a thigh-length satin red robe, concealing her curvy frame, and her wavy hair cascaded down over her shoulders. She had on a pair of sinful-looking heels that pumped lust and desire through the Samoan's blood. He noticed her hardened nipples through the thin material of the robe, and he suspected it was all she was wearing. "You look smokin', doll."

So did he, even in a simple black tank top and grey sweatpants. The visible dick print, along with his smoldering gaze, brought a blush to her cheeks. Fuck, he was sexy. "Thanks. So do you," she said. "So who else did you send roses to today? Must've spent a lot of money trying to cater to all of your women."

"I sent roses to two people today, one of them being my mother. You can figure out for yourself who the other person is." Setting the champagne and the glasses on a nearby table, Roman turned and saw Jaida standing right in front of him, her hands slowly tugging at the belt around her waist.

“I’m flattered,” she said, her voice low as she pulled her robe open, “But we ain’t here to talk.”

She eased the robe off her shoulders, and as it slid to the floor, Roman felt his mouth go dry. She was completely naked, wearing nothing but those devilish heels and an even more devilish smile. He thought a lot of women were hot, but Jaida was a thing of beauty all to herself. “Jaida,” he whispered, casting his gaze hungrily over her body.

Jaida shivered when he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her flush against him. With his deep, husky tone and that 'I'ma sex you so good' expression on his gorgeous face, the only thing she wanted to feel right now was that big dick of his inside her. As Roman's lips met hers in a string of small, fleeting kisses, desire and something else she couldn't place shot through her veins. Throwing caution to the wind, she pushed her mouth against his, exploring him with her tongue. She reached down to stroke his dick through his sweatpants, smiling when he groaned in response. His hands snaked around her butt and thighs to lift her up into his arms. She thought it was so hot how easily he did that. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, Jaida returned every one of his heady kisses. She held onto him as he blindly staggered over to her bed without breaking their kiss. He sat on the bed and raised his arms to allow her pull off his tank top. Her fingers then raked through his ponytail, setting his hair loose while he fondled her breasts. His touch sent heat instantly flooding through her body. She began to grind her ass into his crotch slowly, feeling him harden against her. With another lustful growl Roman took her hair in one large fist and tugged back, exposing the tender skin of her throat. She inhaled sharply as he attacked the sensitive spot, his mouth hot and delicious on her flesh. His fingers traced the blue rose tattoo on her breast. "Your tattoo's so hot," he observed.

Before she could respond, he scooped her breast into his mouth and sucked, squeezing the other with his free hand. Jaida swore softly and tipped her head back, welcoming the sensations he invoked within her. As he pulled back, she caught sight of the open box of chocolates on the nightstand. She glanced at Roman and then back at the box, smiling as a delicious idea popped up in her head. "Lay back," she instructed.

Casting her a questioning look, Roman did as she asked, and Jaida relieved him of the rest of his clothes and mounted him. Picking out a few pieces of chocolate, she squished them together between her hands and then offered her index finger to him. Roman took the digit in his mouth and sucked slowly, never taking his eyes off her face, and his darkened gaze sent shivers down her spine. Her palms smoothed over his upper body, spreading chocolate over him like paint on a canvas, and she swirled her tongue over his heart, while Roman looked on hungrily. "Nice. I like where your head's at, baby girl," he grunted, rubbing her back lazily.

"I knew you would." She licked along his body, placing wet kisses on his stomach, accompanied by slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue. She heard his hiss of pleasure when she dipped it into his navel. "Mm babe, you taste so good," she said, tracing his abs with the chocolate and licking it off.

Roman was fixated on her every move, his lips parted and his breathing labored as she made her way further down, her seductive tongue causing goosebumps to break out all over his skin. Jaida paused at the scar from his surgery a few years ago. Looking at him, she placed a gentle kiss on the scar, and the unexpected gesture sparked a ripple of affection through him. She moved down to his dick, which stood proudly at attention. Her tongue swished briefly over her lips as she stared at it, then squeezing some more chocolate onto her hand, she closed her fist around him, slowly stroking up and down, smearing chocolate from the base up to the plum-shaped tip. Roman moaned his approval at her touch. He watched his dick disappear into her mouth, her sigh vibrating against his most sensitive skin. He caressed her hair, pushing it back from her face. "How does my dick taste, sweet pea?" he asked.

"It tastes great baby," she answered before engulfing him again, his girth stretching her mouth.

"Mmm. That's right beautiful, suck my dick." His voice was a gasping whisper as she ate the chocolate off his penis, sparing no inch of him. The flat of her hot tongue gave long strokes along his shaft and balls, her lips sliding and pulling along his coated erection. "Fuck, so good," he groaned, his grip on her hair tightening.

Jaida continued her ministrations for several seconds, sucking, tonguing and stroking him. Then, without warning, she took him all the way in the back of her throat. The sensation that surged through him caused his hips to buck off the bed instinctively. "Jesus, Jay…wow." His head fell back, mouth open and panting with pleasure. Damn, she was good. The way the tip of his length kept hitting the back of her throat, the way her hands massaged his balls nearly tipped him over the edge. She started to suck him harder and faster, and he knew if she carried on he was going to explode. He grabbed her shoulders roughly, and with one twist of his body, she was the one on her back while he loomed over her.

"My turn," he announced, smirking at the challenging expression on her green eyes as she was aware of how worked up she had made him. He would wipe away that smug look soon enough. Taking a piece of chocolate of his own, he surveyed her thoughtfully. "Now, where do I start?" he mused.

She gathered her hair up and pointed at her neck. "Here."

Smiling, Roman rubbed the chocolate over the spot and sucked on the sensitive skin. He expected her satisfied sigh and got it. He cupped her bare breasts and lathered both with chocolate, paying particular attention to her tattoo. Jaida bit back a moan as he leaned down to slowly lick the treat off her twin mounds. He liked her tits; they were soft and supple and fit into his hands very nicely. He took his time, smiling at the way her breath hitched each time his teeth pulled her hardened nipples. He licked down her stomach, her thighs, her legs, slurping and sucking the chocolate off her skin. He returned to the juncture between her legs and smirked at how wet she already was. He slipped a clean finger inside her before withdrawing it and putting it in his mouth. "Best taste of the bunch," he remarked, then he dipped his face between her thighs, his tongue swiping greedily at her pussy.

With her chocolate-covered hands caressing her breasts, her heavy breathing intensified as his mouth pressed further into her. She reflexively lifted her hips to grind against his face, but he abruptly shoved her hips back down to the bed. Holding her legs wide apart, he thrust his tongue deep inside her. A loud, guttural groan escaped Jaida as hot pleasure surged through her system. The feeling of his tongue relentlessly stroking her was driving her insane.

Having his fill of her feminine essence for now, Roman crawled over her body and met her face to face once more. Jaida promptly pulled him down and crashed her lips to his. There was something extremely erotic about the way their nude bodies were streaked with confectionery and writhing against each other. Their tongues tangled together hungrily, and Jaida couldn't get enough of the chocolate flavor mixed with his natural taste. She wanted…no, needed, more of it, more of him.

Roman himself had reached his breaking point. Reaching for the condom he'd brought along, he sheathed himself in record time. Laying Jaida on her side, he sidled up behind her in a spooning position, then slid his knee between her legs. They both moaned as he pushed his dick through her entrance, sliding slowly inside her. She was so hot, so wet and ready for him.

"Take me," she gasped, rolling her ass back against him. The wait was becoming unbearable. "I need you, Roman. Fuck me."

He didn't need telling twice. He snapped his hips once, driving his dick hard into her, and reveled in her scream, which quickly became a groan of pleasure as he started moving in and out of her. He twisted her face towards his and muffled her moans with hot, wet kisses, as she reached up to tangle her fingers in his long locks. Her breasts were at his hand's mercy, molding and massaging, plucking the hardened nubs of her nipples. His thrusts were deep and commanding; her moans were throaty and orgasm-inducing. Then, as she was nearing her release, he slowed down, going in and out of her in a tortuously measured tempo, savoring her heat and moist warmth. Jaida moaned loudly, overwhelmed by the dizzying sensations. "Fuck, Roman…yes, just like that, oh fuck…"

Roman watched the pleasure contort her beautiful features, memorized the euphoric look in her breathtaking green eyes, the way her hair clung to her face, the way she groaned his name. The Samoan found himself proud to be the one to bring her to this state of bliss. "Such a tight little pussy, sweet pea. So wet for me," he breathed heavily in her ear, accentuating the statement with another single hard, deep thrust that caused her to cry out. Rolling her onto her belly, he adjusted himself on top of her and increased his pace as he fucked her from behind, pistoning deep into her inviting heat.

"Oh god!" Jaida moaned noisily into the sheets, her toes curling as she crept closer and closer to her climax. Roman was hitting every spot she owned with amazing precision. She was vaguely cognizant of his warm mouth suckling her neck, his pelvis smacking against her ass as he long-stroked her pussy. His fingers snuck back between her legs, probing her clitoris, and gripping the sheets tightly, Jaida screamed as she came hard, trembling uncontrollably in Roman’s arms. Groaning, he pressed her down into the mattress and hammered into her, desperate for his own release.

“Fuck, Jaida, I’m comin’...fuck!...” He moaned out loud as the orgasm seized every muscle in his body, leaving him temporarily without the ability of speech or thought. Relaxing against her, he gave her breast a feeble squeeze then let go, flopping onto his back to catch his breath.

On the nightstand, Jaida's message alert beeped. Finding the strength to move, the seamstress picked the phone up, finding a text from Lincoln, bidding her goodnight and that he would dream of her.

From where he lay, Roman could see every word in the message, the little smile on her face. "You like this dude." It was more of a statement than a question, his hand wiping away stray chocolate on the curve of her hip.

Jaida turned towards him, searching his face as she tried to gauge the casual tone of his voice. A few seconds passed, and biting her lip, she nodded.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Fair enough. It got nothin' to do with what we're doing, right?" he asked, a meaningful look in his eyes. He didn't give a shit about Jaida getting together with this Lincoln guy, as long as he got his own special piece of her.

Jaida's eyes narrowed curiously at him. So he wanted this to be a thing now? As much as she should have questioned the wisdom of this decision, she found herself not wanting to, not when this was as incredible as it was. Switching off her phone and putting it away, she took his face in her hands and wrapped his lips with hers, over and over. "No," she murmured against his mouth.

“You sure?”

“Mm-hmm.” She swung a leg over him and straddled his sweet, sweat-ridden body. "Don't worry about it."

Roman stared up at her, a mix of amusement and lust in his grey eyes. "You want more, baby? Can't get enough of this good dick?" he smirked.

"Not quite," Jaida stated, a challenging glint in her eyes. "Now let's see what you're really made of."

Roman's smile mirrored her own as he braced his hands on her hips. "Careful what you wish for, sweet pea," he murmured, right before her mouth covered his once again.

Jaida wasn't sure where she and Lincoln were going, but she knew exactly where she and Roman were at. They would indulge in each other, and when the next day rolled around they could pretend like nothing happened. She'd done it before, with Lincoln and in more treacherous circumstances. This wouldn't be a problem for her. She would find a way to make it work.

And with a dick game as stellar as Roman Reigns', she definitely wanted to make it work.

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imaginethiswwe · 5 years

Text

Chapter 5: Demon Mania

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Hi guys! I am sorry I’ve been MIA! I saw some requests to be tagged in my chapters and I will do my best to accommodate from here on out. Thank you all so much for your support with this story!

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I never answered that text. I know that probably hurt Finn, but I didn’t know what he expected me to say. He was so confusing. He kept saying things that implied one thing, but his actions showed something different.

I know he was trying to check up on me because Sami was blowing my phone up way more than usual. It’s not that Sami didn’t care, but we had a friendship that we could go weeks, even months sometimes without talking and would pick up right where we left off.

The last time I heard so frequently from Sami was when Ferg was in surgery and PT and even that wasn’t as frequent. So I knew to hear from Sami this often was definitely not his idea. It was Finn’s way to check up on me. Even though I knew this, I tried to never let on that I did. The truth is, I wanted him to know I was okay. I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to him, but it was comforting to know he was still there, even if it was in the shadows.

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It’s finally that time of year. The Christmas of wrestling, WrestleMania. WrestleMania week is always full of activities for superstars past and present to attend. Charity events, the Hall of Fame ceremony, the big show itself; and of course I had to attend them all. This is easily the busiest month for me all year. So much media buzz for the company and I had to make sure everything went smoothly.

It was Friday night, Hall of Fame night. Everyone involved in the company was going to be there. Everyone.

Even though Sami and I both had to attend anyway, he asked me to be his date. Basically, this meant we would sit together during the ceremony. Thank God. If I had to sit and endure seeing Ferg and Cathy there together, at least I would have Sami next to me for some comic relief.

-------

I was in my hotel room having my hair and makeup done, I had to be on the red carpet while the superstars would be interviewed, making sure the media stuck to the talking points and didn’t bring up anything that wasn’t wrestling related.

I decided to keep it classic and simple.

I wanted to feel beautiful, but I wasn’t supposed to be on display. I was a background character on the main stage. I was supposed to make the backdrop beautiful without taking away attention from the Superstars. This was the nature of my job. Something I was used to. It didn’t much matter tonight anyway, the one person I wanted to notice me, would be there with easily one of the most beautiful women on the red carpet.

We were in New Orleans, a city I was relatively unfamiliar with. The buzz in the area all week was electric, enough to make even the most casual of fans excited for what this weekend had in store. I had to pinch myself multiple times to realize this was really my life.

-----

WWE had called me a car for pickup. When I walked outside to meet the car I was expecting an uber. But WWE had called me a luxury car. It was a blacked out Escalade. A small smile crept across my face. Sure, my personal life was in slight shambles, but my job was amazing. I worked for a company that truly appreciated me.

When the driver got out to open my door for me I was relieved to see a red beard grinning ear to ear waiting just inside the car for me. Sami, what would I ever do without you.

“Wow.” He said as I stepped up into the car. “I know you get tired of me telling you how beautiful you are, but this tops the charts. You look absolutely stunning, and you-know-who is going to have to pick his jaw up off the ground when he sees you”

“Thank you, Sami” I started, “Thank you for always being here for me. You are truly the most amazing friend I could have ever asked for, but I’m not sure he’ll even notice”

“Listen Y/N/N, Ferg can be oblivious, but I know him. When it comes to you, he always notices” Sami said back while lifting my chin with his finger and giving me a winning smirk.

We rode to the event laughing and catching up. It wasn’t a long ride, but it was such a nice relief for what I was about to encounter. Not only was this going to be a very busy night for me, but I wasn’t sure how I would feel seeing him. I haven’t seen him since that night at the restaurant with Cathy and his awkward staring. I haven’t directly spoken to him, and honestly, I don’t even know if he’ll want to see me now. But ready or not, I was about to find out.

______________________

We pulled up to the event, and this time instead of the driver, Sami rushed out and opened my door. He reached out his hand and helped me step out of the car. I smiled at him as he quickly placed my hand on his arm to escort me down the red carpet to where the production team was camped out. He was so proud to show me off. He wanted people to gossip about who he took to the HOF. Even though we were strictly platonic, he loved it. I loved it. It felt good to have someone so proud to be seen with me.

Heads turned as we made our way down the carpet. I’m not sure if they were looking at me, or at Sami, but I played it off. I wasn’t in love with being the center of attention. As a publicist, I’m always the bridesmaid never the bride.

When we reached where my media team was, I put on my headset and started to organize my team and set up superstars for their interviews. Sami did a couple of interviews and then mostly hung by my station talking to a few friends as he waited for me to finish up. As each superstar approached the red carpet I had my team hand out the list of questions each media outlet was allowed to ask, and what was off-limits completely.

Then I saw him.

I hadn’t seen him in months and yet subconsciously I was still drawn to him like he was a magnet. If he was in the vicinity I would somehow find him.

Was he here alone? Surely, she was not far behind him.

And then I saw her. She looked gorgeous. Nothing less than I expected. She wore a blue sheer overlay gown with Swarovski crystals throughout. Her hair and makeup were kept very simple, something she pulled off so effortlessly.

She walked closely behind him but never engaged. They were widely known as a couple within the company, but to the public, they still hadn’t officially confirmed their relationship. Finn was a huge attraction for the female fans especially, and if he was confirmed taken, it stood a chance of upsetting them. Never good for business. Cathy always seemed to understand that.

I’m not sure what they thought was going to happen tonight. Would they sit together? One would naturally think so. Wouldn’t that be confirmation to the WWE Universe? Only as much as me and Sami sitting together would. It didn’t necessarily have to mean anything as far as fans knew.

Finn stopped to do his first interview as Cathy stood in the close distance talking with some of the female WWE staff. While he was mid-sentence he looked up, saw me and smiled without missing a step with the interviewer. He caught me red-handed staring at him, and I could feel my face starting to burn. Now he knew that I saw him. I couldn’t play it off that I never found him.

Good going Y/N, how the hell are you supposed to avoid him now? He caught you basically undressing him with your eyes. Ugh, look away, go back to work. You’re here to do a job, not worry about the guy you’re in love with who’s here with his GIRLFRIEND

Finn finished the red carpet without approaching me. I think he knew this wouldn’t be the right time or place to talk about our issues. If he even WANTED to talk to me that is.

He disappeared into the building with Cathy in tow, as the red carpet was just about wrapping up and coming to a close.

_____________________________

As Sami and I walked into the building we found some of our good friends Karl Anderson and his wife along with Luke Gallows.

“Hey Y/N! Sami! How are you guys, it’s been such a long time!” Karl said while wrapping me up in a big hug.

I had met Karl when I moved to Orlando. He was best friends with Ferg, as they went back years in Japan. His wife was one of my close friends, but we didn’t get to see a ton of each other.

“Hey, you guys! How have you guys been?” I asked, taking my time to hug each of them.

“Oh, you know us, still kicking ass and taking names. Have you guys seen Ferg?” Karl asked. He always associated the three of us as a trio. Wherever one of us was, so were the other two. Or at least that’s how it used to be. Before she came into the picture.

“Ummm, no I haven’t, I’m sure he’s floating around here somewhere with Cathy,” I told him. I tried not to say it with any kind of tone, but immediately I knew I did.

“Oh, right, Cathy,” Karl said while giving me a wink. What the hell does that wink mean? Why does it always seem like everyone knows something I don’t?

He continued looking around as I gave them hugs and said our ‘see you laters’ so that Sami and I could find our seats. We were seated in the first row on the left side of the aisle. Great, I thought sarcastically, I have an amazing view of the stage..... and of Ferg and Cathy. This night just got so much better.

_________________________

The show started and Superstars of the past were inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. Every once in a while I would catch a feeling like someone was boring a hole into the right side of my brain. I would move my eyes, but never my head, and catch Finn just staring at me. Why does he do this? Doesn’t he know it’s extremely uncomfortable? What if she catches him?

To be honest, I had done my own stealthy investigation whenever someone else would get up. They looked uncomfortable. The body language between the two said something other than a happy couple.

_____________________

The show ended and Sami let me know that a few of the superstars were going out to celebrate and have a night on the town before they had to buckle down for WrestleMania. He asked me if I wanted to come and of course, I said yes. I could definitely use a drink after this shitshow.

We went back to the hotel where most of the WWE were staying. I guess it was easier to keep track of everyone if we all stuck together.

I went back up to my room to change into something a little more bar crawl friendly

I headed back downstairs to meet Sami. He was waiting for me in the lobby along with Seth and his girlfriend. The 4 of us headed out to our uber and to the bar everyone was meeting at.

When we got inside the place was crawling with superstars, some who bothered to change, and some who threw off their suit jackets and headed to the bar in their ties.

We headed to the bar and I waited to place my order. As the bartender approached I opened my mouth to speak when a voice spoke for me instead.

“She’ll have a shot of patron and an Aperol Spritz” the voice said.

I stared straight ahead at the bartender and then nodded my head slowly. I didn’t want to look over and see him. If I look at him I have to talk to him. He’s standing right next to me. So now I have to deal with them at the bar too?

I looked over slowly and tried to smile “thanks,” I said, thanking him for ordering. I didn’t know what else to say, he was just standing there like he wanted me to tip him.

“You’re welcome, been the same order since the day we met.” He said with the biggest grin on his face.

How can I be so heartbroken by this man, but when he smiles I just want to crawl into his arms and pretend like none of this ever happened?

“Where’s Cathy?” I asked, immediately regretting it. It was really none of my business. I wouldn’t even give the guy the time of day 5 minutes ago, and now I’m asking where his girlfriend is?

“Cathy isn’t here. I wouldn’t worry about seeing her around much anymore” he replied, staring ahead while taking a swig of his beer.

“Oh, Ferg, I’m sorry to hear that” I looked over at him. I wanted to sound sincere, even if internally I was jumping for joy.

“No you’re not,” He said, bursting out into laughter. I miss that laugh

I smirked back at him. He was right, I really wasn’t.

“To be honest, I was hoping you were coming out tonight Y/N/N. You disappeared. I asked you specifically not to, and that’s exactly what you did. You were and still are the most important person in my life. Whether you like it or not. Whether you disappear on me or not. You can’t run. I will still be here when you come back. There’s nothing you can do about it...” He started

“Ferg...” I interjected.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this to me anymore. It’s like torture. Sometimes when I’m on the road and had the longest day ever, I just want to hear your voice or see your smile, and you won’t even answer. I miss you every single day. You’re my best friend. I miss going to the bar with you and knowing exactly what you’re going to order and that you’re going to get plastered and sing every song they play”

I burst out laughing and nudged my shoulder into his. I couldn’t help it. He was my best friend, and he knew me so well. I reached out my hand and grabbed his.

“Alright Fergie, you got me. I’m sorry. Someday hopefully we can talk about all of this and understand it from both sides, but tonight.... we drink” I said as I clinked my glass against his and downed my shot. He smiled and nodded his head.

“Sleepover tonight? Stranger Things marathon?!” I asked while he laughed and wrapped me into the biggest hug we have shared in a long time.

“Absolutely, I’ll bring your favorite pillow” he teased while patting the left side of his chest where my head always seemed to fit perfectly.

___________________________________________________

Tag List: @scuzmunkie @calwitch @nevergone4ever

#finn balor #wwe #wwe fanfic #finn balor fanfic #finn balor fanfiction #wwe imagine #reader x finn balor #reader x finn #reader x sami #reader x sami zayn #wwe finn balor #finn balor imagine #fergal devitt #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction

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the-beastslayers-queen · 5 years

Text

Magic and Moonlight: Chapter 2

Here’s Chapter 2 of Magic and Moonlight. Enjoy! Tagging @queenofthearchitect if you want to be tagged, hit up my inbox.

I continued to look at the wolf before until I looked at my phone and saw it was getting really late. I was sure Charlotte was getting worried about me. I returned my gaze to the wolf, who was now sitting up in front of me. It was like he knew it was late.

“I should get home,” I said aloud to the wolf, “Goodbye.”

I rose from my spot on the pavement, letting out a hiss because my ankle hurt from having my weight on while I was on the ground. I tried to keep my balance as best I could as I gritted my teeth in pain. That was when felt the wolf nestle up to my side, using his body to keep me upright.

“Thanks,” I gave the wolf a soft smile, and I swear from the look in his gorgeous brown eyes I think he was returning my smile.

My wolf companion nudged my side. Like it was his way of encouraging me to start walking home. I obeyed and he stayed close beside me. It was nice to have an escort home, even if it was from a wolf and some guy I would have been out with, if I had anyone like that anyway. Once I reached the front door of my apartment, the wolf took a seat as I fished my keys out of my jacket.

“Thank you for walking me home,” I told him and he nodded gently to me, “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime, just not so late.”

The wolf nudged me to get inside and I giggled a little at how sweet and concerned he was for me. I smiled at him one last time I shut the door and locked it. I looked through the peephole to watch him run off out into the night.

I was running through the trees of an unknown forest. The trees were passing me by in a blur. I could feel the wind against me as I sped around the trees and over the roots and fallen branches. I slowed down once I reached a clearing with a stream. I walked over to the stream, and looked at my reflection. But it wasn’t mine.

It was the wolf from last night.

Alright time to wake up, child.

I was exhausted as I entered the PC. I had gotten little sleep and my dreams scared me a little. I didn’t understand why I had a dream of me being the wolf I had met at the park. I also didn’t understand why it kept happening over and over every night since.

But then I remembered what Morrigan had said a few nights ago after the incident at the park. That she felt the wolf imprint on me, on us. That wolf had to be my soulmate. But who is the man behind the wolf. I needed to find them, and maybe that will help me sleep better at night.

But for now, I had to focus. I was sparring with Becky today.

“I t’ink somet’ing is on yer mind, lass,” Becky said as we locked up in a collar and elbow.

“I had the strangest dream replay every night,” I confessed to her, “I have no idea what it means. I mean, I don’t even have control over this dream either, which is bizarre. Any other dream I’ve had, I could change it however I wanted to, but not this one.”

“I dun know,” Becky got lost in thought for a moment as I put her into a side headlock, “Maybe this dream is someone else’s and their too far away for you to have any sway. Maybe Morrigan is breaking the power of your choker, letting more of your magic out.”

“I certainly hope she’s not messing with my binding charm,” I ran toward the other side of ring when Becky shoved me away from her she then clotheslined me down into the matt and sat on her knees beside me, “I don’t trust myself to keep all of my magic in check just yet. I’m still trying to separate myself from Morrigan. I don’t want her having sway over my magic.”

I’m right here, you know. I like it in here.

Well I don’t. I want to give you up to a witch that would like your company. Or give you a new body to claim as your own.

Okay fair point. I can see about making sure your charms are still in place. Your welfare is my concern to.

“Morrigan’s talking again isn’t she,” Becky knew the tells when I was listening to Morrigan, “Is she causin’ any trouble?”

“No,” I kind of chuckled for once when it came to my “house guest” in my head, “She was offering to fix my charms to keep my magic in check.”

“Hey Becks,” we both looked over to see Colby waltzing over to our ring and lean against the apron, “Mind if I spare with Thea for a bit?”

“Not at all,” Becky smirked at me and I just groaned at her, “Am I going to see ya at Sasha’s party tonight?”

“Maybe,” I replied as I kip-upped off the matt, “Come on Colby, let’s spare.”

I was walking out of the ladies’ locker room when I jumped out of my skin at seeing Colby leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Holy shit Colby,” I grabbed at my chest to steady my heartbeat, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry Thea,” Colby smiled sheepishly, “I’m actually here to ask you something.”

“Okay,” I walked a little out of the way of the door to talk to him, “I’m all ears.”

“Would you like to come get some coffee with me,” he asked tentatively, “Just a nice friendly cup of coffee. I’d like to get to know you.”

“Coffee sounds nice,” I replied, “But I do only drink tea though. If that’s okay with you.”

“My usual coffee shop does have nice tea,” he replied with a smile, “Come on, I’ll drive us over.”

I followed Colby to his car, which was a decent SUV. It looked like it had seen some miles. Colby decided to be a gentleman and opened the passenger door for me and helped me.

“So is this your car from home,” I asked him as he climbed into the driver’s side.

“Yeah, it was gift from my mom and step-dad for my sixteenth birthday,” he replied, “This bad boy has been with me through the indies and all the way to NXT. Hasn’t let me down yet. Did you bring a car from home? I’ve only ever seen you walk here with Charlotte.”

“I didn’t actually,” I replied, “I flew down here and Charlotte had insisted I move in with her when I arrived at the PC right away. We’ve become close because of it.”

“Charlotte is a sweetheart,” Colby smirked, “When she wants to be anyway. Never get on her bad side. I did once in NXT and she just about turned me into a tree.”

“A tree,” I looked at him shocked, “I didn’t know she was a witch.”

“She’s not,” he shook his head lightly as he pulled into a parking spot at the coffee shop, “She’s a nature nymph. For being her roommate I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

“She never shares that kind of stuff with me,” I confessed, “But she found out I was witch when I accidently wandered into her dreams one night. She was pretty mad at me for it, but forgave me once I told her it was an accident.”

Colby got out first and came and helped me out of his car. He placed a guiding hand on my low back, making me blush a little, as he led me inside the quaint little coffee shop. He led me over to register and ordered what I would was his usual coffee order since he didn’t look up at the menu once. He turned to me, seeing I was still looking at the menu.

“I’ll have the earl grey with milk and honey and a shot of vanilla please,” I told the barista once Colby got me to focus, “How much do I owe?”

“Oh no,” Colby grabbed my wrist gently to stop me from fishing my wallet out of my purse, “My treat, okay.”

Colby got out his wallet and paid for our drinks before we moved over to the pick-up counter to wait for our beverages. I tapped my fingers in a random beat as I waited for my tea when Colby tapped my shoulder.

“So is there a reason you don’t drink coffee,” he asked innocently.

“My dad is from England and he always drinks tea,” I replied, “I’m a bit of a daddy’s girl and wanted to be just like him. I tried to pick up on using his accent and I took up tea drinking. The accent didn’t stick obviously.”

“I think that’s kind of cute,” he smiled at me, “Are you still close to him?”

“Not really,” I replied sadly, “My dad is purist. He isn’t too fond of me being bound to a werewolf.”

“Wow,” Colby just shook his head, I could tell he was angered by what I said about my dad, “He has such a narrow point of view. He would rather you be with another witch and miserable than with the person you’re destined to be with.”

“That’s why I grew distant with him,” I told him, “And why I took up wrestling. He wanted me to become an apothecary like him, selling herbal teas and natural beauty products but I didn’t want that.”

“Well I’m glad you chose to wrestle,” Colby smiled warmly at me, his eyes shining in the sunlight that filtered through the windows, “Because I got to meet you, Thea.”

Our drinks were done and we moved over to a booth in the back corner of the shop. I sat across from Colby and took a small sip of my tea, humming in delight at the taste.

“You were right,” I smiled at him and placed my hand on top of his, “This place has some great tea. I think I’ll make this my go-to spot for tea.”

Colby and I continued to talk about all sorts of things. We talked about our favorite WWE legends. Turned out Colby adored the Ultimate Warrior. I told him mine was Chyna. We talked about our first ever matches in the indies and what our try-outs were like.

But soon it was time for me to get back to my apartment. Colby was kind enough to drive me home. He even walked me to my door.

“Thanks for today Colby,” I smiled as I got my keys out of my purse, “I had fun.”

“It was my pleasure,” he smiled back, “Are you going to Sasha’s party?”

“Are you,” I asked him.

“I am,” he replied, “But only if you go.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you there then,” I opened my door and took a step inside, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the PC.”

“See you later, Thea,” he waved goodbye before going back to his car. I decided to have a little fun with my magic.

I concentrated on Colby and I went into his mind and made him feel like I had kissed him on the cheek. I went to the window in my living room, looking outside at Colby as he brushed his right hand against his cheek where I had ghosted a kiss. I simply smirked at him as he looked at my window and wiggled my nose as a little tease of telling him I used some magic on him.

Tease.

Shut up Morrigan.

#seth rollins fic #seth rollins x oc #seth rollins fanfic #seth rollins fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #werewolf!seth rollins #witch!oc #supernatural/occult!au #magic and moonlight

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emblem-333 · 5 years

Text

Let’s Save The Hitman

In my eyes wrestling is corny, formulaic, and whenever someone tries something creative for the sake of change it is immediately the worst. There’s a fine line between PG and PG-13 the WWE walks today. In some ways for the better. The women, while often forgotten, aren’t treated primarily as sex objects. Wrestlers of various ethnicities are treated better, at least in their on-screen portrayal. The Attitude Era content fans yearn to return never will. No matter the platform WWE finds itself on they want to appeal to children to obtain mainstream credibility they enjoyed for a very brief time in the Hulk Hogan-era, and in 2000. You can gauge how in-vogue wrestling is with the casual audience with if one of them hosts Saturday Night Live.

As of today, the WWE doesn’t know what it wants to be. Every year they beg celebrities to show their faces for WrestleMania for that mainstream appeal. They are also grooming Shane McMahon to be the edgy, son of a billionaire heel to fill his father’s shoes from The Attitude Era. Women are challenging man’s masculinity on live television on Raw, then on Smackdown the champion is hugging little children on the way to the ring. C.M Punk is right when he describes wrestling as the most “bipolar” industry.

In 1997 the WWE appealed solely to the crowd who wanted the edgier product. The rejection of the clean-cut Babyface Bret Hart and his stereotypical tendencies, despite his superior in-ring and fine promo skills, the days of the black and white were long over. In ‘97 World Championship Wrestling simply was kicking WWF’s ass. The New World Order was setting the landscape on fire. Heel Hogan rejuvenated his career. It didn’t even matter the wrestling matches featuring the nWo were subpar. The characters were just that great. Meanwhile, the WWF in late in the year knew what had to be done, only they lacked the funds to do it. It wasn’t enough to give the red hot “Stone Cold” Steve Austin the title. Vince McMahon needed more juice in the building for the occasion. He set his eyes for heavyweight champion Mike Tyson. His expensive price tag was paid after McMahon ran Bret out of the WWF into the arms of WCW. WHAT A COINCIDENCE!

The first hurdle McMahon had to conquer wasn’t simply getting the belt off Bret. It was the squeeze a pay day out of the illustrious Shawn Michaels/Bret Hart rivalry before The Hitman walked out the door. The two have worked in singles matches only twice prior. The first time at Survivor Series, 1992, and the famous Iron-Man Match at WrestleMania XII. Each match a four-in-a-half star affair. The two were penciled to have a rubber-match for WrestleMania XIII. Except the champion Michaels “Lost his smile”.

Translation: “I’m the champion. I don’t have to do jobs for anybody. Also, my knee hurts.”

As you can imagine, this caused a rift between The Heartbreak Kid and The Hitman. Prior to Survivor Series, in 1997, all Hart asked McMahon was he’d end his WWF career with his dignity. McMahon insisting he drop the championship to Michaels. Hart won the title from The Undertaker at Summerslam earlier in the year.

The infamous Montreal Screwjob ruined the life of one of the greatest performers the business had ever seen. While simultaneously catapulting the cutthroat McMahon above his competitors to the point he currently holds a monopoly on the wrestling industry. (We’ll see how All Elite Wrestling does)

So what-if a compromise was reached? Or if the whole scene was avoided all together? Obviously the Monday Night War continues into the 21st century. Even as WCW decayed under the inmates running the asylum (*coughs Hulk Hogan*) if the company never felt the need to try anything different after losing their lead in the ratings maybe the company is still around today? With no “Mr. McMahon” character to act as a foil for the anti-Hero Austin how much of what made Stone Cold so great is missed?

How do we arrive at such an occurrence? Simple. Have The Undertaker go over Bret Hart at Summerslam. Referee Michaels catches Bret using a chair on Undertaker and disqualifies him. The stipulation for this match was if Hart were to lose he would no longer compete on American soil. This is earth shattering to the WWF world in 1997 if Hart had to adhere to this stipulation. Hard to imagine this not being an appropriate end for Hart’s WWF career if his heel run comes to a screeching halt at the hands of his arch nemesis. The Madison Square Garden crowd goes bonkers obviously buying the now anti-American Hart.

With no Monday Night Raw scheduled for Canada we probably never see Hart wrestle for the WWF again. Fun fact: his contract was expired by the time Survivor Series rolled around. He didn’t have to work the show. Being the champion at the time he felt obliged. If we do arrive at Survivor Series in Montreal with Hart and Michaels main eventing HBK is the one with the belt. You need this match to have the belt at stake. Is the sting of Montreal still momentous if Hart is screwed out of the title he did not have? I have no clue. It’s awfully hard to believe Hart refusing to do the job if Michaels was already champion at Survivor Series. The circumstances would be different. Michaels could retain via D.Q. McMahon wouldn’t be so hellbent on destroying Hart’s reputation Canada. Perhaps a more dignified exit means no racist angle involving the D-Generation X vs The Hart Foundation vs The Nation of Domination? People forget how clumsy and nonsensical the early stages of The Attitude Era was. HBK and Triple H frequently would crack unfunny, immature jokes. They would blabber on and on and find themselves miles away from the initial subject matter.

Hopefully, in this universe, Undertaker retaining washes all of that away. As for Undertaker, Michaels probably gets the belt at either of the In Your House PPVs prior to Survivor Series. ‘Taker’s younger brother Kane was scheduled to debut at Badd Blood. So his appearance can cause ‘Taker to lose the belt to Michaels and transition both participants to the next story.

Scenario Number 2: The Patriot Defeats Bret at IYH: Ground Zero

Hey! Remember The Patriot? Of course you don’t! Nobody does. But for a brief time (oh, so brief) Del Wilkes was red hot debuting in the WWF after stints in Japan and WCW, popping in just as Bret got one over on Michaels and won the belt from ‘Taker at Summerslam. The Patriot didn’t take too kindly to Hart’s defaming America and challenged him to match on July 14th edition of Raw is War. With a little help from The Showstoppa' Patriot scores a monumental upset win over Hart. Sgt. Slaughter acting as commissioner later ordered The Hitman to defend his recently won title against the Patriot at Ground Zero: In Your House.

Funny side-note: this is the feud that turned Vader face. While Vader and Hart were slugging it out for the title on Raw the Hart Foundation attacked Vader, The Patriot ran out to make the save. The next week The Patriot found himself triple-teamed by Bret, Owen and the British Bulldog where Vader repaid the favor by saving Patriots’ bacon.

Del Wilkes was an average wrestler. He spoke in a slow southern accent, lacked charisma and his backstory never was a mystery despite wearing a mask. His gimmick didn’t make much. Why was he wearing a mask if he was a Lucha Libra? The video package prior to the match tells us who The Patriot is. Informing us he played offensive tackle for the South Carolina Gamecocks with Heisman Trophy winner running back George Rogers.

Watching the match I’m convinced Bret could make me look like a thousand dollars because he made The Patriot look like a million. While the crowd chanted “Austin! Austin! Austin!”, I found myself engrossed. Even though I was well aware of the outcome, with each near-fall I wondered if the upset was possible.

I’m sure Wilkes was a hard worker, but he was not championship material. That all being said, if there was ever a night to crown a Cinderella it was right then and there. Even if it was for ONE NIGHT no matter the aftermath the WWE today could have benefited from an out of nowhere challenger turn champion back when their belts meant something.

In his promos after conquering Michaels, and ‘Taker, Hart still is nagging about how the American fans don’t appreciate him. It’s so bizarre. He is on top of the world and can’t transition from complaining to gloating self-righteousness. I don’t fault Hart for this. Creative just saw him as a whiny heel. But then why give him the belt if you were only going to write him a certain way?

You can have Hart win the title back on Raw (even on the night after Ground Zero), or turn Vader heel and take advantage of a weakened, naive Patriot. Be nice to see what Vader could have done with the WWF World Championship around his waist.

To close out this scenario, I searched for Wilkes on Twitter. He is unverified. Also, he’s a MAGA chud. What is it with wrestlers having terrible political beliefs???

Scenario 3: Owen Hart defeated Shawn Michaels to face Bret at WrestleMania XII

We never really did get that Bret vs Owen rubber-match. The two put on absolute clinics to open WrestleMania X in 1994, and a couple months later at Summerslam. Owen winning the first in an upset over his brother. Bret won the steel cage rematch for the world title. It was Owen’s only world title match. The little brother would never rise outside of the mid-card for the rest of his career. It’s unfair for a great many reasons. Owen was the most technically sound wrestler - even more than Bret. Arguably, Owen was superior on promos because there’s more depth in his heel persona than Bret’s portrayal as a face. After his victory at ‘Mania Owen delivered a stuttering, delusional promo. Owen simply didn’t know how to handle the success overcoming his big brother, feeling he’s finally escaped The Hitman’s shadow — only for Bret to win the world title hours later over Yokozuna.

In 1996 in the run-up to WrestleMania XII the red hot Shawn Michaels recently turned face and was gearing up to take the torch from Bret, having won his second straight Royal Rumble; in his first win, he did it coming in at number one. But Owen earned the right to challenge Michaels’ #1 contender status at In Your House: Rage In The Cage. The two put on an absolute show ending in HBK solidifying his status as the one to challenge Bret at ‘Mania. HBK would go on to win the strap, Bret would go on to dip his toes in acting.

But what-If Owen beat HBK? What-if his manager Jim Cornette waffled Michaels with his tennis racket while the referee was distracted and Owen got the cheap pin?

Well, for starters: it will be the first year where the Royal Rumble winner wouldn’t have gone on to challenge for the title at ‘Mania. A scheme McMahon didn’t concoct until the Rumble Rey Mysterio won in the prelude of WrestleMania XXII a decade later.

Owen relinquishes his brother of the strap, as Bret would not have any qualms doing the honors for his brother like he did in their first matchup since he was already leaving. This wipes away Michaels losing his smile, and Owen nearly killing Austin at Summerslam ‘97.

Owen and Bret meet for WrestleMania XIII, so no iconic submission match for Austin (we’re just cutting off Stone Cold’s legs right now). Austin probably finds himself challenging the white-meat Babyface Rocky Maivia for the I.C title. He probably does the job for Rocky. No feud with Bret means no heat for Austin.

If either of these scenarios became reality we’re watching WCW right now. There’s no way without sacrificing Hart the WWF could have overcome the Atlanta base promotion. At the end of the day, the bad guy did win. It’s a damn shame. But that’s the real world.

#bret hart #owen hart #montreal screwjob #shawn michaels #alternate history #WWF #WCW #Monday Night War #WrestleMania

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