Soooo I’ll start off with the Moxley route because I’m trash and I live for a bad boy with serious self hate. Maybe I’ll progress the story to his transition into Ambrose but it depends on how long I want to make it.
I’ll still take requests for Moxley/Ambrose/Rollins. Just message me if you have anything in mind. In the meantime,
I hope you enjoy!
Jon
I was still shaking by the end of the night. After one of the more brutal matches in my career. I fucking lost my title at Southern Violence. Fucking Nick Gage. Fuck him. I was going to skin him alive the next time I got my hands on him. He was a fucking snake and an opportunists – taking every chance he got to steal my title. He’d always come out when he knew I was beat to shit and exhausted. That’s why he barely touched me the entire match until he knew I was worn down. There’d be hell to pay when I got to him again. That was a fucking promise.
For now, my whole body hurt. It hurt. Worse now that the adrenaline was subsiding.It felt like I’d been hit with a convoy of mack trucks. Between all of the lights. The chains. The fucking knives, chairs and thumbtacks. I was fucking aching. There must’ve been a total of 25 stitches between my head, face, and back and I wanted to bury that pain the only way I knew how. Beer and Pussy.
I’d lost Sami somewhere between the door and the bar. I’d made a beeline and since he was shorter than me, he wasn’t in my line of focus whatsoever. The place was overcrowded and he seemed to just blend into the sea of heads anyway. Besides – he could handle himself. It’s not like he had gotten the shit out of him tonight.
I pushed my way through to the bar where people were shouting angrily for a bartender’s attention. From what I could see there was about 3 on staff and 80 people just crowding the area. Grabbing one guy from the collar of their shirt, I yanked him off the bar stool so hard he’d fallen to the ground. I was clearly bigger than him so he made the smart decision to not fuck with me when I stole his seat.
“Hey!” I slammed my hands against the bartop. “Heyyy!!” I slammed my fists harder, trying to get someone to get me a goddamn drink.
I rested head on my hand, wincing when I pressed against the fresh stitching across my brow. My mind kept replaying the match over and over again. How the fuck could I have lost my title? One minute I was ready to pin Younger then next I was hit over the head and knocked out.
Fucking Gage. I’d tear him apart every chance I got until that title was back around my waist.
“Can someone just get me a motherfuckin drink?!” I shouted again.
“Woaah – the fuck happened to you?”
I could barely hear anything between the ringing in my ears and the music playing over the speakers but the silky tone of that voice cut right through all of it like a hot knife cutting through butter.
Lifting my head, I was met by the gaze of pale green eyes. They were catlike in shape with a burst of yellow in the center. Despite how dark it was in the place, they were bright as fuck framed by long eyelashes.
Holy shit..
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I was usually quick with smartass responses – especially when I was pissed, but it was like all anger had somewhat subsided and this night was suddenly still salvageable.
Usually, I aimed for lower grade pussy – something easy to just get me off and I could get focused again, but now I had my eyes set on a certain target.
Her.
And goddamn was she fine as hell.
“That shit don’t look like it feels to good.” She said, wiping down the bar top in front of me.
Her tits shook with the wiping moment. They were barely contained in a black bra that had a lace front and a leather trim, giving me a perfect view of her tiny pink nipples.
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “You’d be surprised at what I think feels good.” I said, leaning in a little closer, I rested my hand close to her body, my thumb brushing across the bottom of her tits.
She didn’t slap me, which was a good sign. She also didn’t move away. Instead, she laughed, her lips parting to show a row of perfect teeth, blindingly white in contrast to the dark red lipstick she had on. Her tongue rolled over a small silver lip ring in the corner of her bottom lip and I wanted to reach over and pull it with my teeth.
Leaning across the counter, most of her upper body rested on my arm, letting me feel the softness of her skin all the way down to her stomach, her face only inches from mine.
She smirked, her eyes searching mine. “Next time you touch me without my say-so, I’ll cut your cock off and shove it up your ass.”
She threatened in the most sultry tone I’d ever heard in my life. I could tell by the look in her eyes she meant it and I didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on but right now I was a conflicting mixture of both.
Fucking christ, I was a masochist.
“But I bet you’d like that too, wouldn’t you?” She said, bringing her face even closer to mine. The slightest pucker would’ve made our lips touch. “Sick fuck.”
My smile grew at her feistiness and I ran my tongue across my bottom lip. “I’m starting to think you got me all figured out, darlin’.”
“Oh I gotta pretty good idea. I’ve met a thousands of men like you.” She replied, standing back up.
“Trust me, sugar lips – you ain’t never met a man like me.”
With a laugh, she nodded her head back to the shelves of liquor. “What can I get ya?”
“You even old enough to be behind the bar?” I teased, knowing damn well she must’ve been.
Judging by her curves, she was all woman and not afraid to show it. Between the bra top, painted on booty shorts, and thigh high black boots, there was little left to the imagination. It should actually be considered a crime for bitches of this caliber to ever hide their body.
None of this was any different from the women I dealt with in the industry, but she wasn’t no ring rat and this look worked for her. Though, she could be wearing a garbage bag and still have my dick hard just by the way she looked at me with those fucking eyes.
“You even old enough to be looking like a middle-aged man?” She returned, leaning her hands against the counter as she looked at me expectantly.
“Ouch. Someone’s got a mouth on her.” I smirked. “Let me get a shot.”
“Of what?”
“Anything hard and cheap – and keep ‘em coming until I black out and not feel any of this tomorrow.” I said, motioning my hand over my body.
She laughed and reached for one of the bottles behind her. I watched as she took her time, pulling two shot glasses out from under the counter. There was no rush in her movements. There was people calling and clawing for orders and refills, but she didn’t hear any of that. She was there for her own time, letting the other bartenders run around like madmen while she filled up the two shot glasses, passing me one with a smile while we were the only two people in the entire bar.
She passed me one of the glasses, clinking her glass against mine before we downed them simultaneously.
Her eyes squeezed shut as the burn traveled down her throat before she smiled down at me. “So you gonna tell me why you look like this or you want me to start guessing?”
“You ever watch professional wrestling?”
“You mean like WWE and shit?” She raised a brow, seemingly more interested. “My uncle loves that shit.”
“Yeah – but not with that company. That’s the goal though. I’m in the indie circuit and I’m working with Combat Zone Wrestling.” I continued. “You know – that extreme shit. Tables, glass, ladders, anything sharp and deadly basically.”
“Well fuck. That would explain the face.” She laughed, refilling our cups.
“You think this is bad, you should see my back. You ever been dropped on thumbtacks?”
“Can’t say that I have sweetheart, but go on then – lemme see.”
“Shit -”
I stood, turning my back towards her before pulling my shirt up over my back to show off the hard earned scabs that had already formed from this match alone.
“That’s fucking wild!”
I looked over my shoulder to see she was less horrified and more excited than I expected her to be.
This chick had a thing for pain. I could see it behind her goddamn eyes.
Good.
“Does it hurt to touch?”
“No fucking shit.” I laughed, but she didn’t hesitate to reach across and run her fingertips down my back to feel every cut on the way down.
“Fuck.” I backed away, groaning at the same time when she touched a particularly deep one. “You’re one of those bitches that loves shit a little rough, ain’t ya?”I laughed and lowered my shirt, sitting back down to drink the third shot she’d filled for us.
Her smile screamed danger, confirming my assumption.
“What can I say? Pain has a way of making me feel alive.”
Ugh – she was perfect.
“Well – lucky for you I’m an expert on pain, baby.”
“Is that right?” She smirked, playing with her lip ring as she leaned against the bar to meet me eye to eye again.
“Ye-”
Out of nowhere she was yanked from her arm, by some drunk piece of shit, causing her to almost fall over.
“Jesus fucking Christ bitch, I’ve been trying to get your attention for ten fucking minutes.” He shouted at her. “Are you fucking deaf? I said I wanted another beer!”
“Hey asshole.” I stood, my blood suddenly boiling from all the rage of what he’d just seen as well as losing my match. “You either say you’re sorry or I’m breaking this bottle in half and carving the words across your fucking forehead.”
“Who the fuck -”
Wrong choice of words.
Grabbing his head, I slammed his face into the bartop.
Once.
Twice.
She looked on with a fire in her eyes, hands resting comfortably on the edge of the counter as his head was pummeled between them. She wanted me to keep going. I could fucking see it.
“Hey! Hey!!” Someone yelled before I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders yanking me off the man. “Both of you – out!”
Security grabbed the guy off the floor, pulling us both away from the bar.
“Woah woah woah!” I protested, trying to gain some footing. “I ain’t even got her name yet! What’s your name?”
“You believe in destiny?” She answered back.
“What? No!”
“Well I do – I’ll let you know if our paths are meant to cross again.”
I didn’t believe in Destiny. I believed in going after what I wanted. If I left shit up to destiny – I’d still be in the projects probably dead by now.
But goddamn did the whole “mysterious and sexy” thing work for her. If it wasn’t for that motherfucker interrupting us, I wouldn’t have just gotten her name – would’ve had her screaming my name by the end of the night.
Ugh.
The thought of her pussy clenching around me while that sexy ass voice screamed out for me – instant hard on.
I wanted it.
I fucking needed it.
And once I put my mind to something – it was mine.
Fuck destiny. I’d make sure our fucking paths crossed.
ooo
The next night, my feet couldn’t get me to the bar fast enough.
I had barely been able to focus in the gym. I had to train. it was fucking critical for my next match. I might not get a title match immediately but I’d hunt down Nick Gage until I fucking got it. That belt was mine. It belonged to me.
Just like that fucking bartender from last night.
I had to get my hands on her. The bitch I took home last night hadn’t done anything to quench that thirst. Nah – I wanted those red lips around me. I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else until then.
Today was a prime example. My whole fucking body hurt. I had no recovery time between the matches I was booked for over the next two weeks. With only one day in between them, I had to train my ass off – that meant what I was feeling and what my dick wanted to feel had to be put on the backburner.
After fumbling all through training, I jumped into the shower then headed straight for the bar.
It was still just as packed as the night before. This place always was. Loud music and sexy woman was the key to success. That was the same logic I used for my entrance into the ring. Why fix something that wasn’t broken.
Everything looked exactly the same, only one thing was missing. That bartender.
Where the fuck was she?
“Yo!” I cut through the crowd. “Hey!!”I called out for one of them to listen.
“What can I get you, sugar?” One of the women behind the bar asked?
“Where’s the girl that was here last night?”
You gotta be more specific than that now, baby. There were plenty of women here last night.”
“She had green eyes, um light-ish hair. See through bra…?”
“Oh! Yeah, she’s out of town for a couple of weeks. Sorry love.” She answered as she wiped down the bar.
Out of town for a couple of weeks.
What the fuck man?
I was only going to be in town for a week.
**None of the gifs are mine