#matt hardy imagine
Text
ATTITUDE || 001
IT'S YOUR FIRST introduction to the World Wrestling Federation and you’re surprised at the fan reaction. It makes you giddy, but now people (including those in the back) are going to be expecting much of you.
Your two best friends, Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler, return back to the hotel room and you guys chat before heading to sleep.
The adrenaline rush is still coursing through your veins as Shane McMahon helps you back over the barricade. You had just shown up to interfere in a match between Matt Hardy and the Big Show.
Shane told you that you needed to focus your attention on the redhead, Lita, and deal with the other, Trish Stratus, if necessary.
At one point in the match, Lita yanks Trish off of the apron and her shirt went along with it. Yikes.
Shane figured that this was a wonderful opportunity for you to get in there. He lightly pushes you forward and that was your cue to get the hell in there.
Lita was so busy with trying to beat on Trish that she hadn’t even noticed you jumped over the barricade. You can see her scream at Trish to “get up” as you approach. Her back is toward you. Perfect!
At first, the crowd was confused, but once realizing that you weren’t a fan, they holler and cheers at your appearance, quickly recognizing you from WCW.
“Is that—my god!” JR yells. “That’s [Name], from WCW!”
The crowd seems to get even louder when you yank Lita‘s shoulder and turn her toward you to smash your forearm right in her face.
Trish is looking on in awe, covering herself and scooting backward from the scene. Whoever you were, you kind of saved her?!
“She’s not taking too kindly to Lita right now!” Paul exclaims with laughter in his voice. “Fight, fight, fight!”
Lita doesn’t even get a chance to fight back, you’re moving way too fast.
It’s a little strange to hear the crowd so excited, but you try not to let it distract you as much.
Before you had gotten out of there, you made sure to give Lita a final parting gift. A swift DDT. You throw your arm around her neck and sweep your leg back, before pulling both of you down to the floor. Lita’s head slams into the concrete and you hop up from your spot.
The crowd gives a resound “ooooh” in response. If your DDT was in a box, it’d be wrapped with the prettiest bow anyone has ever seen.
Meanwhile, Trish wants to be thankful to you, this stranger that beat the hell out of Lita. Yet, she’s not sure if she should be feeling so grateful.
Covering herself with her coat, she slowly starts to make her way to the other side of the ring. She doesn’t want any problems with you!
And luckily for Trish, you didn’t have enough time to handle her, so you’ll save it for next show. Just disrupting the match equilibrium is enough.
No one was expecting you at all. You’re following behind the footsteps of people like Lance Storm, Hugh Morrus, and Booker T…..you are officially the fourth star to appear from WCW.
These random occurrences were no coincidence. To the WWF, it just meant man or woman, anyone could get it at any time.
Let it be known that the forbidden door is completely blown off its hinges. There was no longer any boundaries.
You had quickly made your way out before security could retrieve you and Shane had been waiting for you by the barricade. You two made a swift exit, with him encouragingly patting your side as he holds onto you.
Right now, he’s still guiding you out to the limousine with a camera trailing behind you two. The crowd cheers don’t end despite you two getting the hell out of there. You can still hear the noise from the arena.
“Great job, [Name]!” He exclaims. “Bet my father wasn’t expecting that! Now both divisions have something to look out for!” Shane quickly opens the door for you. “Get in!”
You quickly hop into the limo, shuffling in. Shane follows you and closes the door afterwards.
And just like that, it was the start of your WWF journey. You had always wondered if it’ll be like WCW. The backstage environment was sure to be different than this ones.
You suppose there was only one way to find out.
You’re splayed out in the seat of the limo, and though Shane had squished in there with you, he finds it to be a better idea to go sit across from you.
“I haven’t heard people cheer like that for a woman in years!” A but of an exaggeration, but it still holds true. People made a lot of noise for you.
Your attention is on the ceiling. It still hasn’t set in that the crowd might actually like you. You’re more focused on the fact that you’re actually here in the WWF.
You wouldn’t have ever guessed it. WCW was the place you wanted to be when you started. Years before you debuted, all you did was practice.
Really. Practice, practice, practice. Until you couldn’t move anymore. Your old mentor, Madusa, ensured that you were conditioned enough to be in the ring.
She kept you there for a while. You’d jokingly say that she was holding you hostage, but it ended up being for your benefit. You learned that they would pull the women from the school too early.
Madusa did not want them to make that mistake. She made sure you knew what you were doing before you could go anywhere!
You have to admit though, the training at the power-plant facility wasn’t the best. There were other woman who didn’t exactly know what they were doing. It was easy for them to mess up.
And it’s actually where you met your two close friends, Stacy and Torrie. You were nervous, they were nervous, it’s only inevitable you three would mutter things to one another.
You were more than happy to give them tips on what you knew. From you, they were more than happy to learn. Eventually it grew from only talking in the school to completely hanging out with each other.
It was really nice to finally make some genuine friends.
Shane takes you out of your daydream by holding out a bottle of champagne. “A performance like that deserves some reward! Want some?”
“No, I’m okay.” You shake your head. “But hey, I’m just glad I could get in there!”
Shane thinks you’re downplaying yourself. “Seriously, that was amazing.” He says. “I couldn’t believe it. WWF should know by now there’s one hell of a storm brewing.”
You didn’t realize it at first, but maybe you like this so called “invasion” more than you thought you would.
“You mind if we head to Times Square? I’m due to speak WWF New York.”
Your reply is sluggish. “Yeah, yeah, sure. What is that?”
“It’s mainly a restaurant, but we do some live events there too.” He summarized.
That quickly reminds you of the WCW Grill in Vegas. You’ve been there many times, whether it to be signing things or just hanging out with other coworkers.
You lean up from your seat. “WCW had something like that in Vegas! They closed last year though. Bummer, I kinda liked their food. And I think I had a menu item once!”
“Really? Well, I’m sure the WWF’s will be better.” Shane pauses for a second. “I mean, for once. Besides, we’ll be bigger and better. Then you can really get your name on the menu.”
You let out a chuckle. He slipped up a little. “Right.”
”I’m gonna need you for Smackdown too.” Shane says. “You don’t have to worry that much about transportation since we’re staying here for it.”
Oh joy! Seriously! No worrying about catching a flight tonight, that’s less stress on your shoulders.
“Then I’ll be there.” It’s not like you wouldn’t be anyway.
”While you’re at it, mind asking Torrie if she could attend as well?” He requests you. “I’ve got a great idea for the both of you.”
A great idea, he says. Not like you’ve heard that before. “Color me intrigued, what’s the plan?”
“I want you ladies to go undercover in the WWF. Somehow, someway. Get as much information as you can from anyone you run into.” He explains. “If anything goes wrong, WCW will protect you. You’ve got my word on that.”
“I believe you. But how should I do that? Just waltz up in there and proclaim I’m one of them now? I just attacked Lita!” You throw your arms out for extra emphasis.
“Relax. Just act like you were misguided. And when you learned that I wasn’t in the right, you want to change your ways. If I were you, I’d apologize to Lita first.”
It was only a six minute drive from MSG to WWF New York. When the limo pulls up, you can hear the sound of the crowd on the outside of it.
The only thing you could do was nod at Shane. It’s go-time.
Leaning up from your spot, you take a second to fix yourself up, fixing your shirt and adjusting your hair so that it’s presentable. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea…
Rumors still can circulate, even if you were seen in the ring earlier! The last thing you wanted was for dirt sheets to grasp at straws, with your boss of all people.
Shane gets out first, then takes a second to open the door. He then pulls it open and you are greeted with the crowd on both sides of the sidewalk.
When they turn their heads to see who else was in the vehicle, they cheer over at you. All you can really do is wave with a smile.
Do they really know who you are?
Photographers are at the ready, their bright white lights flashing at you. It makes you squint every time a camera would go off. You just hoped those photos won’t come out bad.
Shane waits for you, offering his arm for you to take while you get out of the car. You happily take it and he ushers you to go inside.
It’s like walking the red carpet, albeit shorter and quicker. You two go in, and you try to look at what they’ve got on display as you walk.
Lots and lots of action figures. You can only look over there for a few seconds, but you do catch a Lita figure on one of the holders.
There’s a lot of others, but you’re not quite sure who they are. Stone Cold Steve Austin? Triple H? Edge? None of those people ring a bell.
As you two approach the steps, there’s only one thing pops into your mind.
…You can’t believe that this place has two floors! So far, it was beating that WCW Grill by a long shot. Upstairs was for merchandise, and as you two go down you assume that the restaurant was around here.
You’re greeted by another large crowd of people and the both of you make your way over toward the stage.
The camera nearby moves over to the both of you.
Shane lets go of your arm and goes to grab a mic from a stagehand. You wait for him by the center of the stage.
Before he says anything, he reaches down toward the crowd to give them high fives. Shane comes back toward you.
“Surprise,” He says. “Well obviously, I’m not Perry Saturn, and she’s not Terri Runnels. But dad, I know you can hear me. It’s your son Shane, how’re you doing?”
The crowd cheers his name and you keep the smile on your face. This place was WWF New York, but before anyone knew it, it could easily become WCW New York.
“You know, the one that owns WCW. The very organization that has you a little heated under the collar. Because WCW continues to infiltrate your WWF.” Shane motions over toward you.
“[Name] made an example out of two women on your roster, and believe me, that won’t be the end of it.”
You nod your head. You’re eager to take these women down, one at a time. You definitely need to make a mental checklist.
Shane continues on. “You see dad, that is done out of necessity. Because in order to build a brand like WCW, we need television exposure. But I’ve gotta give you credit on this because I didn’t think it was possible, through all of your connections you have been able to block WCW from airing on any television network period.”
When he pauses again for a split second, the crowd cheers him.
“Here’s how it’s gonna go down.” He says. “I may not be able to compete with your checkbook but I can compete with your brains. Since you have prevented WCW from airing on any network, it’s now time for WCW to invade the WWF.”
You clap your hands toward him, then try to signal for the crowd to make some noise. They do and you smile. “Thank you!” Although your words were drowned out by the crowd.
“One of the people to lead the charge in one division stands here next to me,” Shane turns to you. “I reckon that she’ll become the next Women’s Champion in no time..”
You hope so. That’s a big step in your career. You were one year too late in getting the WCW Women’s Championship, despite Madusa’s efforts to revive it.
To your surprise, Shane holds out the mic toward you. He must’ve expected you to say something.
You try not to look like a deer in headlights as you take the mic and speak up.
“All I want is to lead WCW to victory. Whatever it takes, I will do…so let this be a warning to the entire women’s division. What I did to Lita was a demonstration of what’s to come. Trust me when I say that no one can stop me, but feel free to try if you want to…that is if you don’t want to end your career early!”
Shane laughs at your words. Hopefully the women (and men if they so dared,) would take heed. You pass the mic back to him.
“Oh, but that’s not all,” He points a finger up. “Might I introduce the second person to lead the charge, I’m sure that you and Stone Cold Steve Austin know this man very well. Ladies and Gentlemen, the WCW Champion, give it up for Booker T!”
As Booker makes his way from behind the curtain with a mic, he throws up his arms.
You watch as he reaches down to high five the fans. After of which, you reach out your own hand for him to shake. He grabs your hand and shakes firmly.
Shane mimics you, shaking his hand as well.
“Last night, at King of the Ring, it was just too easy, no, it was just too damn easy to take you outta the game!” Booker says.
There are mixed reactions at his words, with more cheering than booing from the antsy crowd.
“—And you call yourself the WWF Champion? I respect that, but ask me what I call you. I’m calling you out to let you know that if you want some you can come and get some, because I’m gonna be here at WWF New York, kicking it all night long!”
Shane brought back up his own mic. “I’d like to call this my dream team. These two are going to lead my brand new company to victory. Dad, this is a warning to you. I’m just here to say that you’re on borrowed time..”
That’s all that was needed to say.
Shane was 100% sure that his father was watching. He’s also sure that he was boiling in anger. It’s exactly what he wanted.
The camera makes sure to get all three of you into frame. It’s up to you, as that’s left was for you and Booker T to apply pressure on the WWF..
After the segment at WWF New York, Shane fortunately allowed you to return to your hotel, but told you to watch the remainder of Raw when you could on the television.
You’re not exactly sure what his plan was, but now you’re curious to see. All you knew is that Booker T was asked to stay and they went off somewhere else while you just left through the back this time.
Just what in the world were they up to?
Shane was nice enough to send you your own limousine after bidding you a good night. Most of your energy had fizzed out and you could tell that his had too.
All you were excited for was to flop onto your bed. You don’t even move the comforters, all you do is just lie down for a few minutes. You’re sure you can move a little later.
There’s a lot of big changes going on in your life right now. You think the first biggest one was Shane McMahon’s entry to WCW and how quickly everyone went on his side.
It’s only fair. It’s the competition, hell, it’s the son OF the competition. Who specifically came in saying that he was against his father.
But what made him so trustworthy anyway? A lot of your coworkers were immediately on his side. You knew WCW was declining, but you never thought everyone else would stoop low enough to side with competition.
At least, not that quickly. The way things were going in the company, it made you feel like you had no choice but to trust him. So far, no betrayals, so everything is going okay so far.
You do get enough energy to at least turn on the television to Raw. You figure it’s only right to honor Shane’s request.
Immediately, you’re greeted by the sight of Shane McMahon heading down the ramp with a pep in his step. His father is not happy to see him at all.
Seeing the brand new WCW logo projected onto the ramp makes you feel…
Well, you don’t know how it makes you feel. You can safely say it makes you feel weird though.
You’re so used to it having an obnoxiously large watermark behind it, with the barely visible text of “World Championship Wrestling”.
Now it’s all small, jagged with the points on each letter. You have to tilt your head slightly in order to see it better.
Eventually, the camera moves away from the ramp and decided to follow Shane who was circling around the ring.
With you being able to hear the commentators properly, you wonder what they had to say about your prior run-in. You should’ve asked someone back at home to tape it!
“WCW does NOT belong in Madison Square Garden!” Paul is almost standing out of his seat by now with all of his screaming.
“You may be right about that, but—“ Unfortunately, JR isn’t allowed to get one single word out thanks to his partner.
“You’re damn right I’m right! I grew up here, I know these things, I see these things!”
You roll your eyes. Shouldn’t Paul Heyman be worried about his own company instead of everyone else’s?
Oh, wait…
You chuckle to yourself. Thank god no one could hear your thoughts or that you were backstage. That wouldn’t have been good.
Vince is beckoning Shane into the ring, but unbeknownst to him, Booker had hopped right up into the ring, ripping his jacket off in the process.
It’s so over for him! You can’t help but smile. You watch as Booker lays in punches onto him, causing him to stagger backwards.
Booker takes advantage of this and runs toward the ropes, bounces off of them, then lifting one of his legs to give him a scissor kick.
Just to add salt in the wound, he hits a spinaroonie to get off the canvas.
How amazing is this?! You can see the entire WWF locker room run down the ramp but Shane and Booker are way too fast, making their exit.
This obviously must’ve been what Shane wanted you to see. Maybe this means that the ball is back in your court now.
You wonder how you can upstage Booker this time. It’ll definitely be hard since he literally knocked the hell out of the literal CEO of the WWF! Vince McMahon!!
Although, Shane offhandedly mentioned he has a sister who also happens to be in the business. You could always find something to do with her if he allows it.
Are you still buzzing from earlier? You had thought your energy was all gone, but it seemed like there was still bits of adrenaline in your veins.
You had only a few seconds to make your appearance count and from what you can think back on, you did a pretty damn good job.
The sound of the door unlocking makes you snap your head to your right.
“Helloooo!” Torrie sings from the doorway. “[Naaame], are you here? I’ve got Stacy with meee!”
Ah yes, your unofficial roommate for this trip. Torrie Wilson. And Stacy, who insisted that she room with you guys this time.
You think she’s just scared of being alone, which is understandable. But there was no need for her to try and sneak into your bed when she could use the pull out couch!
“I saw you on TV,” Stacy exclaims. “You were great! You really kicked….what’s her name? Ah, who cares?! The crowd was really loud too!”
“Yeah.” Is all you can really say to that. And then you fall back onto your bed, turning away from them and putting your head onto the cold pillow.
The both of them share a look, but Torrie’s the first to question you. She takes a seat next to you on the bed. “What’s your problem tonight? I’m surprised you haven’t called us on that dying Nokia you’ve got. Normally you’d be the one to drag us out after a show.”
Torrie teasing you about your phone was nothing new, but you still take offense anyway!
“I’m holding onto it!” Your words are muffled. “My 1999 phone is getting me places, okay?!”
Stacy takes a seat on the opposite side of you. “Aren’t they making a new one in like November?”
“Are they?” You turn your head so that they can hear you better. “I hope they have other colors. But honestly, I’m tired. Kinda.”
“Kind of?” Stacy repeated. “How much sleep did you get last night?”
You hold up five fingers. “Five, so just enough to me. I had a flight to catch to get here, so five was really pushing it. I can’t really tell if this schedule’s gonna be worse than our old one.”
“Oh, you poor thing!” Torrie exclaimed, rubbing her hand on your back. “You’re right, but with Shane McMahon being our boss, I’ve gotten more sleep than I would normally! But that’s pretty bad to say, huh?”
“Yes,” You mumble. “Yes it is.” She just haaad to rub it in your face.
“Listen, I don’t think we have to be at the next show—“
You quickly interrupt Torrie. “About that, Shane wanted me to ask you to be at Smackdown. He didn’t say anything about Stacy this time.”
It makes Stacy cheer. “Yay! I get to relax aallll day tomorrow. You know what? [Name], I saw this really cute top at Delia’s earlier today. Now I can go back and buy it for you!”
“Was it that crop top with all those safety pins on the side?” Torrie turns over to Stacy. “If it was, that one totally screamed [Name].”
”YES!” She exclaimed. “That’s exactly the one I’m talking about!”
”From the sound of it, it sounds like I’m gonna have to have a lot of trust in that top.” You say. “And when did you guys go shopping??”
”Earlier. See, they said they needed us.” Torrie removes her hand from your back. “Then I guess they changed their minds since they had you?” It’s the only logical explanation she comes up with.
Whatever, it’s really no big deal. ”Well, you’re gonna be needed tomorrow anyway. And Stacy, I’m sure they’re gonna ask you to show up again. People went crazy! It would be bad if we just left you two in New York.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all!” Stacy finally decides to take a seat too. “Times Square is beautiful! If I could, I’d totally live here.”
“I saw a rat walking down the street with pizza.” You comment. “And you’d stay here. Crazy, crazy, girl.”
Stacy definitely rethinks it. “…Well, now that you say that, shopping only!”
“Hold on a second, it had pizza?!” Torrie exclaims.
It’s gonna be a long, long night, that’s for sure.
*painfully gives a thumbs up.* I SWEAR THIS WAS LONGER WHEN I LOOKED AT THIS OMG. but, yeah. Here we go again, please strap in for the ride
#LET ME COOK.#wwe x reader#wwe Imagine#wwe various x reader#trish stratus x reader#trish stratus imagine#lita x reader#lita imagine#matt hardy imagine#matt hardy x reader#shane mcmahon imagine#shane mcmahon x reader#WWF ATTITUDE SERIES#wwf x reader#wwf imagines#wwf imagine
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
best friend - jeff hardy
2001! jeff hardy x gn!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: mentions of (scripted) violence?, reader is younger than matt and jeff, best friends to lovers trope
you watched from ringside with wide eyes as your best friend of 10 years, jeff hardy, walked across the top of multiple ladders in the centre of the ring, before toppling to the canvas below, somehow landing on his feet. you breathed a sigh of relief, but your rapid heart rate didn’t let up as the match continued on. splintered tables and steel ladders littered the ground surrounding the ring, along with the barely moving bodies of the other tag teams. you felt like a spectator in your own body, like you weren’t really there, as you watched the 6 men toss eachother around for what felt like hours. jeff climbed back up the ladder and got a hold of the belts, before the ladder was pulled from under his feet, leaving him dangling high above the ring.
positioning another ladder in the center of the ring, edge climbed nearly to the top before spearing jeff mid-air, the two men plummeting to the mat below before laying there motionless. you had to physically held back from jumping into the ring to make sure he was okay, and if you weren’t panicked out of your mind you would have mentally thanked the official for not allowing you to interfere, or worse, throw the match. lita, one of your closest friends and also the girlfriend of jeff’s older brother matt, rubbed your back reassuringly, but you knew she was just as worried as you were. for the remainder of the match, you clutched the apron so hard your knuckles turned white, until finally christian grabbed the belt, ending the match.
as soon as you heard the bell, you slid under the bottom rope, immediately checking on jeff to make sure he was okay. he mumbled almost inaudibly that he was alright, as your hands frantically but gently checked him for signs of injury, before he began to sit up. jeff winced, holding his ribs as he got himself to a sitting position, letting you pull him into your arms in a hug filled with relief.
“are you okay?” you asked desperately, as jeff returned the hug, placing a kiss on the top of your head before you pulled away, cradling his face in your hands, his long red hair dripping with sweat as your brushed it aside.
“i’m okay, i promise,” he assured you, his southern accent peeking through as he spoke. you tilted his head to the side to kiss his cheek, and steadied him as he tried to stand, grateful to have you as a crutch for balance.
•
a few hours later, jeff had been checked over by the medical team and deemed fine, miraculously having sustained no serious injuries during what was sure to become a historic match for the ages. you were curled up next to him on the couch in the hardyz dressing room, waiting for it to be time to head to the next venue. your head rested on jeff’s chest, tangled in each others arms and you slept soundly. jeff’s attention was drawn to the sound of the door opening, and he placed a finger to his lips, signalling to his older brother to be quiet. matt obliged as he silently sat in a chair across from jeff, who’s tattooed fingers absentmindedly traced little patterns onto your back.
“you’d think we’d be the ones sleepin after that match,” matt joked, and jeff smiled down at you. “i guess it takes a lotta energy to worry about your dumbass all the time.”
“ain’t just me, you’re out there jumping off ladders an shit too,” jeff laughed, but his eyebrows furrowed together slightly.
“yeah, but you’re the one they haven’t let go of since the match ended. doctors could barely examine you they were clingin’ on to ya so tight,” matt teased, and jeff was worried you’d woken up as you made a small noise, but only snuggled closer to him and continued sleeping. “jesus jeff, quit droolin,” matt laughed. the younger hardy looked up at his older brother, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
“man, is it that obvious?” he asked sheepishly.
“jeff, i’m your brother; of course it’s obvious to me,” matt said. “but it’s pretty obvious that kid’s in love with you too.” jeff held you a little tighter, and you mumbled slightly as you awoke, eyes opening slowly as they adjusted to the light.
“hey sleepyhead,” jeff smiled, and your heart skipped a beat when you realized where you were. it was a common occurrence for you and jeff to wind up tangled on the couch on asleep on each other shoulders in the backseat driving from show to show, but it still have you butterflies every time you woke up in his arms.
“hey- is it time to go?” you asked, sitting up slightly to jeff’s disappointment as he let you out of his grip. he was relieved when you stayed close beside him however, keeping yourself tucked under his arm.
“not yet. y’all want anything from catering? i’m gonna grab a bite,” matt offered, and you turned your attention to him, only now realizing that he was in the room.
“no, thank you,” you replied as he stood to leave, jeff shaking his head as he also wasn’t interested.
“suit yourselves. be back in a bit.” he tapped jeff on the shoulder as he passed by, the sound of the door confirming that he had in fact left the dressing room.
“tired?” jeff asked, and you nodded, snuggling back into his chest, and cussing him to laugh as he tightened his arms around you again.
“are you sure you’re okay? that spot was insane,” you asked, looking him in the face and searching his eyes for any sign of hesitation. jeff leaned forward and kissed the end of your nose, and you felt heat rising to your cheeks as he replied.
“i’m okay, i swear. it coulda been a lot worse than it was,” he said, and you nodded, finally accepting his answer.
“okay. promise me you’ll be careful though?”
“how long have we been best friends? shouldnt you know by now that’s not in my nature?” he teased, pinching your side by your ribs, sending both of you into a fit of laughter
“alright alright! please stop!” you begged, laughing all the while until jeff finally stopped pinching and tickling your sides, smiling at you. “what? why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, your stomach doing a flip as jeff’s hand grabbed the back of your head softly and pulled your face down until your lips met his. the kiss was soft and sweet, but full of all the love you had both bottled up for years. you pulled away in shock, staring into jeff’s hazel-green eyes.
“i’m sorry, i..i should’ve asked-“ he stuttered nervously.
“so ask me,” you interrupted, and his eyebrows raised in surprise before he cleared his throat.
“can i kiss you?” he asked sincerely, and you nodded in response, jeff crashing his lips onto yours immediately after receiving your permission. it felt as if the weight of a thousand bricks had lifted off of your shoulders; of course you had always loved jeff. how could you not?
pulling away, he placed one more soft kiss on your lips before doing. the same to your nose and forehead, and pulling you into his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck.
“i love you,” he muttered into your hair, and you smiled, breathing in the scent of his freshly washed hair and the cologne that lingered on his skin.
“i love you more.”
#jeff hardy#i’ve never written for wwe before#this is very out of my comfort zone but jeff is the loml#jeff hardy wwe#jeff hardy fic#jeff hardy imagine#jeff hardy x reader#matt hardy#hardy boys#wwe imagine#jeff hardy aew
209 notes
·
View notes
Note
ID LIKE TO REQUEST SOMETHING LIV‼️‼️‼️ if i can 😭
maybe jeff with an oblivious reader or the other way around? whatever u think…. And then maybe Matt and Lita are like “THIS IS GETTING ON MY NERVES” or some shit?????!!!!
ur da best!
AN UNSUSPECTING LOVER
The adrenaline after a match always made your head pound and your body jittery. Especially for the likes of Y/N, who pushed through the curtain with a limp and a gleaming smile from the praise of backstage staff. They were quick to ask for the nearest source of water which, for some reason, was only in catering. Out of breath and truly now deperate for water- because why would they only have it in catering and have catering like, five miles away from the gorilla?? Either way, Y/N, walked into catering with an agitated sigh and finally reached their prized water.
Half way through their water bottle, Y/N heard familiar laughter from behind them. Turning around and taking the plastic bottle from their lips, they were quick to find Team Xtreme who had very clearly been watching them.
“Oh, hey guys!” Now, out of breath from chugging the much aforementioned water, they greeted the three with a grin while moving over to the table they were seated at. Lita returned their cheerful hello from her place in between the boys and Matt gave Y/N a smile across the table.
“Hi, n/n.” Jeff looked up at them leaning into the vacant chair next to him, love sick expression too obvious to everyone but them.
“Hi, Jeff.” They repeated, voice as sweet as can be and grin growing cheekier. “Oh, did you see my match?” They leaned in closer to him, giving his arm a -unfortunately, for Jeff- friendly swat. “I tried to do a Swanton variation thing, was it any good?”
“It was great, I loved it! Everything you do’s perfect, wouldn't have expected any less.” Matt scoffed at the infatuated boy and Lita swatted at him- a lot less nice than y/n had done to Jeff.
“Oh, you’re too sweet!” They moved even closer, hand gently landing on his shoulder at his compliment. “Well, I’m gonna get going, I gotta shower. But I’ll see you guys!” As they walked away, Lita quickly turned to Jeff with wide eyes, expecting something from him. But he only sat and watched their leaving form.
“Jeff! You were supposed to ask them out!” She stressed, exasperated.
“Oops.” He mumbled from behind his hand of the arm he had propped up against the back of his chair, eyes never leaving y/n.
“God, I am so sick of this! Matt, give him some advice, how’d you ask me out?”
“Uh, I just kinda kissed you.”
“And then?” Lita egged him on.
“And then you told me we were going on a date..” At Matt’s quiet confession, Lita pushes up from her chair, hands slamming against the table.
“You guys are so useless, I have to do everything around here! Why can’t you just come out and say that you like them instead of looking at them like a little love sick puppy all the time!”
“Lita, I really have been trying everything. I even did the whole hand size comparison thing you told me to do! Y/n’s just..not into me.” Jeff sunk into his chair as he spoke before hearing a scoff at the table next to them to find Billy Gunn, who had turned away from his conversation with a couple other people waiting for the night to end.
“Yeah, right. Do you not see the way that kid looks at you? Plus, one time Hunter asked them out and they said no- ‘cause they were goin’ out with you that night- but they would love to hang out some other time. Y/n’s just a little oblivious sometimes, you gotta put it right in their face.” Billy turned back to his prior conversation, leaving Jeff to swallow all of that. Lita, still very frustrated let out an angry groan.
“Well, if you know all that and still won’t do anything, then I’ll do this myself too!”
“Yeah, Jeff, shes gonna do it herself.” Matt smuggly told his brother, kicking his feet into Lita’s abandoned chair. Jeff glared over at him, before quickly leaving his seat and following after Lita.
Jeff had easily found Lita- banging on your locker room door. Jeff tried to pull her away before you heard, but the door opened just as he reached her.
“What? What’s the matter?” Y/n stressed, wrapped in a towel and dripping wet. Jeff drew in a breath and quickly flushed, turning away from the door but Lita quickly turned him back and grabbed him by the bicep.
“He’s got something to tell you.” Lita spoke as she looked over at him, raising her eyebrows with expectancy and shoved him into the room, almost into y/n, before quickly making her exit.
“So, whattaya gotta tell me?” Y/n asked, a little uncomfortable from the semi-wet clothes stuck to their body after rushing to get dressed.
Jeff shifted nervously, eyes moving around the room to meet anything but y/n, taking a quick breath before finally spitting it out.
“I really like you, n/n. Um, a lot.”
“Oh. Well, I like you too!” Y/n answered, their smile shining bright. Jeff smiled softly at them, all nerves leaving him.
“You do?”
“‘Course I like you, you’re my best friend!” Jeff couldn’t help but let out a short laugh at their explanation, his head falling and hand coming to rub at his temples. “What’s wrong? Did I say something bad?”
“No, sweetheart. I meant-“ He couldn’t help but burst into sweet laughter again, looking up at them. “I meant in a romantic way. I want to go out with you, and kiss you, and spend long, peaceful nights with you.”
“Oh.” Y/n’s voice was soft, face burning from a bit of embarrassment but also from Jeff’s endearing words. “I didn’t- I didn’t think you were into me like that.”
“Is it okay that I am?” His voice turned soft too. He stepped forward, softly grasping their forearm. Y/n’s hand moved to touch his arm too, the room filled with a tension much better than the anxiety it held earlier.
“It’s perfect. Is it okay I’m into you like that?” Soft voices turning to whispers, adoration burning further in their close proximity. His thumb smoothed over their skin, grasping a bit firmer, but still very softly. His other hand moved up, taking place on their cheek.
“That's all I could ever ask for.”
y/n is very much sunshine in this, dont know y ig i just felt like it but either way yippee!! this was fun to write and a lil corny but i love making mr jeffro a lover boy also dont know where the water bottle obsession came from I just ran with it after I wrote it (a bit of an unconscious solitude reference perhaps?) also Lita is a girlboss
the first bit of this was very fun to write while staring at that pic teehee he is so silly and u are so amazing rita <33 thank you for requesting 😽😽
and my tumblr is fr actually fully functioning rn so it let me do the little keep reading thing!! it never appears up on my computer for whatever reason but this did take me like an hour to reread bc im watching one of my fav streamers and kept getting distracted so I really didn’t reread it very well tbh
#liv writes;*!#jeff hardy x reader#lita#jeff hardy#matt hardy#billy gunn#(just for a lil bit but he is there!)#wwe#wwf#aew#jeff hardy imagine#i luv him#(and i luv rita 2)#sorry this is so short :((
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
ೃ༄ TAP OUT (christian cage x reader)
ೃ༄ pairing: christian cage x fem!reader (ft. brother!edge)
ೃ༄ requested by: anon
Hi! Is there anyway I can request a Christian x Female!Reader one shot? Maybe she’s Adam’s younger sister and Christian’s girlfriend and she’s teaming with them against the Hardy’s and Lita and she ends up seriously injured and the boys are there with her the whole time taking care of her? Fluffy and angsty if possible please?
ೃ༄ warnings: light swearing, mentions of injury, inconsistent use of christian/jay and edge/adam
ೃ༄ word count: 2.1k
ೃ༄ note: hi anon!! i hope this is similar to what you wanted <3 i got off track with the hurt/comfort elements and the connection with jay hehe <3
the shout of the crowd was always the most exhilarating part of a match. standing against the turnbuckles, a perfect mirror image of lita on the other side of the ring, listening as your team partners worked the crowd from the ropes either side of you. it was your favourite part of the group you worked with, the dynamic which had your partners being the ones to act as your hype men, leaving you to revel in the energy before kicking off every match you began. it worked, and the crowd loved it, even if your positions were meant to be that of heel. it was hard to deny your popularity — no matter how much vince tried to push for the opposite.
if you glanced to your left, you’d see the man you loved bouncing so elegantly off of the mixed reaction from the crowd. it was hard to not spend your time staring at him, to keep your focus on intimidating the opponent when he just looked so good. but it was always worth it when you got the win.
even now, as christian jumped down from the middle rope, taking his place by your side and wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours, ignited by a holler of cheers from the crowd. they always ate up every moment the two of you showed your relationship on stage — and when they found out that relationship extended beyond storylines? well, your popularity skyrocketed.
what made it even more perfect was the perfect play from edge, rolling his eyes as he joined you by your right side. it was perfect really, the idea that your big brother hated your relationship but fought alongside you for the sake off the team — when in reality, adam loved the two of you together. sure, backstage his jokes never ceased, and you were more than often third wheeling with jay and adam as opposed to the other way around, but the in ring reactions he always had just added to your determination to prove yourself as a power couple.
the hardy siblings took their place by lita, jeff, unbeknownst to the crowd, sending a wink your way. and then the match was set.
the referee took his place, and amongst the crowd’s screams you could hear edge’s whisper of ‘let’s kick some ass’, coupled by one last squeeze of your hand from your boyfriend to your other side, before he launched into his signature pendulum kick to defend from matt hardy’s oncoming attack.
it was only up from there, elbow body shots all around, coupled with more than exhilarating special abilities you weren’t even aware your opponents had. no amount of fight calls could prepare you for some of the moves lita pulled on you, but you were always prepared with reversals when you got the chance. behind every move you could feel the crowd’s cheering thrumming in your veins, pushing you to get out of any compromising position to turn it around with your own abilities. you even attempted your brothers signature spear, knowing he’d rip you for it after the match.
at one point, christian managed to get jeff hardy with his killswitch, but the man, as planned, kicked out at the last second.
then, it all went wrong.
vaguely, you could see the hardy boyz and high impact battling it out in a series of moves you couldn’t pinpoint, as you were focused on defending yourself against lita’s own high power attacks.
as she went to performance her signature moonsault, the plan called for you to reverse her mid air, but as her body collided with yours, the sudden, piercing pain in your leg caused for you both to go tumbling to the floor. you hit the surface harder than expected, lita’s weight on top of you an added pressure as something twinged in all the wrong ways. she knew immediately what had happened, and quicker than expected the woman was playing it off but wasting no time in leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“you okay?” she questioned in the privacy of just the both of you, face positioned in the crowds blind spot.
you nodded, expecting to be able to walk it off. as you rose to continue with the planned moves, the pain in your leg became unbearable, and before you had even stood to full attention, you were back down on the surface of the ring.
this time, lita wasn’t the only one to turn her attention to you. previously engaged in their own personal battles, christian was the first to react, immediately giving some sort of signal to his currently one of the brothers so that he could attend to your side. edge held up appearances, taking on both of the hardy brothers but you were sure they were all watching you from the side.
christian’s hands were on your waist, momentarily dulling the spiking pain from below your waist. “y/n? you okay?”
you went to nod your head, halt your boyfriends worries before they began, but the pain returned tenfold and all you could manage was a pained yell as you gripped at one of his forearms weaker than before. christian knew immediately, his unoccupied hand raising to your cheek as he tried shallowly to comfort you between pulses of pain. there were some words exchanged between him and lita, sounds you couldn’t quite make out amongst the ache, and then the referee was signalling with crossed arms for a time out.
finally, amongst keeping up appearances, your brother rushed to your side, no longer occupied by the hardy siblings. he was behind christian, just as worried but without knowing where you were hurt, not wanting to touch incase of causing further harm. christian was vaguely saying something to him in the background, but his hands were just as grounding before.
from the side of the ring, you could see the medics appear through the ropes, and even as they pushed everyone away, christian remained by your side.
somewhere in your peripheral, lita was explaining what happened to the medical professionals, but all you could focus on was your boyfriends soft whispers, shrouded by anxiety.
“can you move? can you sit up?” before you could even answer, christian was peppering you with concern again “you haven’t hurt your back right? shit — if you’ve hurt your back—“
you squeezed his arm before he could panic anymore. “i’m okay. my backs fine it’s just— my leg— i think i tore something—“
there was a gentle hand in your hair, brushing back strands whilst you lay until the medics shifted your leg, and you couldn’t help the guttural scream that left your throat. you were suddenly being shifted, your leg in the air as they put some strap to provide pressure, the pain unbearable until your head was being moved too. whilst they iced your muscle down the best they could, christian had moved until your head was placed gently on his thighs. hands caressing your hair and whatever inch of you he could reach in a pale but appreciated nonetheless.
“jay—“ you whined weakly, reaching your hand as far as it could go to tap his thigh. he was there on instant, tangling your fingers together and bringing his lips down to press a kiss to your knuckles. you could hear a cheer at the action, some concerned, some maybe convinced it was all part of it, but all you cared about right now was keeping your attention on christian. “it hurts.”
“i know. i know baby.” and he did better than anyone. you had been there by his side through more than one injury, and now it seemed it was time for him to do the same. one of the medics said something to him, and then christian was turning his attention back to you. “can you get up, sweetheart? i’ll help you.”
your attempt to nod was muffled by the awkward position you were in, but then christian was moving from under you until he could firmly grab at both of your hands. you tried to place your uninjured foot to pull you up, but it was to little avail, having to rely on your boyfriends strength alone to get you standing. the second you were back on your feet (or foot, considering your current predicament), edge was back by your side, and the boys took their positions under each of your arms.
a firm, yet caring hand on your bare stomach drew your attention to you brother.
“you still with us, champ?” he joked, pulling a weak smile of you as the two men helped you through the ropes.
you barely remembered the journey backstage, too busy thinking about the repercussions of whatever you had pulled — or worse, torn. but there was no need to worry about that now when your boys were on either side, attentive as ever to every need.
it brought you back to the time you received your first injury, nothing more than a dislocated shoulder shortly after your debut.
christian and you weren’t together back then, but it was certainly the beginning of something. you remembered sitting in the hospital, way past visiting hours, with a worried adam to your side, hand tightly gripping yours. jay was there too, refusing to leave despite his lack of full association to you. it was the first moment you realised how deeply he cared for you.
it was all very deja vu now, except this time, it was jay holding your hand in the medical room, with adam pacing back and forth like a mad man whilst you waited to be attended to. he was, if you even glanced for a moment, furious.
ignoring adam’s internal plight, jay lowered his voice, skin still clammy from adrenaline, but warn as you leant into him. “you were a beast out there, injury or not.” he emphasised his words with a kiss to your temple, pulling the briefest of smiles out of your anxious self.
“what happens now?” you whispered, the turmoil evident as ever in your voice. jay could only shrug, pressing another soft kiss to your temple before you adjusted your position so you could press your lips against his.
“whatever happens, we’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?” he rested his forehead against yours, revelling in the moment until the sound of your brother’s pacing pulled him out of the moment “adam, you ass, you’re worrying her more.”
adam turned to his best friend, fury evident on his face but features relaxing the moment you sent him a sympathetic look. “i’m just pissed, they should have been more prepared for something like this in such a high stakes match.”
“no one can predict it,” you empathised, leaning into jay’s side as you spoke “nothing was botched, i just clearly had my leg in the wrong position.”
“still! why is no one here attending to you? if you’ve torn your acl and they’re off gallivanting around—“
“adam.” jay spoke sternly, his hand not holding yours outstretched in a pause symbol.
glancing between the two of you, the harsh lines on adam’s forehead didn’t disappear until you outstretched your unoccupied arm to him. you could see the moment he battled with the internal angel and devil, before his face softened and he stepped towards you, taking your hand tightly in both of his and placing an extended kiss to the available skin.
you let yourself relax for a moment, head lolling against jay’s shoulder whilst your brother crouched down in front of you. your leg was still strapped from foot to thigh, no one wanting to take any chances, but you tried just for a moment to ignore what was to come and revel in the moment with your fellow company.
adam was in deep thought, allowing you just a moment of reprise in which you turned your head up to see jay already looking down at you. his brow was creased in concern, and you couldn’t help but release his hand to run your thumb along his temple, smoothing out the lines that had appeared. despite the circumstances, he offered you a soft smile.
“no matter what happens, i’m proud of you, you know that?” he spoke quietly, leaning into your touch as your hand rested against his cheek.
“i know.” you whispered in response. amongst everything, one thing you would never doubt was jay’s care for you, and the pride the man carried whenever he saw you in action. “i’ll be okay right?”
jay glanced in adam’s direction. you weren’t sure if the older of the two was looking, but there was an understanding that flashed across your boyfriends eyes before he turned back to face you. “as long as we’ve got each other, right?”
you smiled, lifting your lips to his in another soft kiss. “as long as we’ve got each other.”
a/n: thank you for such a cute request anon!! i always have fun writing any dynamic that involves jay/adam as they are my faves <3 i hope this at least somewhat did justice to your request!
#✍🏻 requests : anon#christian cage x reader#christian cage imagines#christian cage imagine#christian x reader#christian imagine#christian cage#edge imagines#edge x reader#wwe imagines#mentioned:#lita#jeff hardy#matt hardy
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
i just need more jeff hardy fics dude, i swear i’ve read them all😭
#jeff hardy x reader#jeff hardy imagine#jeff hardy#wweuniverse#wwe superstars#the hardys#the hardy boys#90s wwf#lita wwe#matt hardy#the enigma
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I was browsing around the net, right? As I do. And look what snuck into my recommendations today...
Bro, I swear to God. All I'm gonna say here is they better not just be teasing here. Unless you've been a long time follower of mine, you've had no idea just how long and just how badly I've been begging for a Jeff heel turn to happen again since like 2010 (putting the horrible aftermath aside). And even though the words here are coming from Matt's mouth, this right here could be the first ever little hint that we could be heading down the Hardy Heel Turn very soon, and I'm absolutely ecstatic and on the edge of my seat to see what's to come out of this. Obviously, take all this with a heaping bowl of salt, but goddamn would this be amazing. 🫨
#i honestly don't care exactly how we get the heel hardyz at this point#just as long as we get them#Jeff especially#can you even imagine the storyline potential?#lefty talks about wrassling#wrestling news#all elite wrestling#jeff hardy#matt hardy#aew
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
One Shots/ Imagines Masterlist
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Chris Jericho:
-Reunited
Jey Uso:
-He Knows
-Samoan Dessert
Roman Reigns:
- Get Down Tonight
#visionarystoryteller#aew#storytellingg#aew imagines#all elite wrestling#wrestling imagines#storyteller writes#kenny omega#matt jackson#story teller g#storytellerg writes#storyteller prompts#storytellerguniverse#storytellerg#wwe imagines#one shots#romanreigns#the bloodline#the youngbucks#Jeff Hardy#Matt Hardy#hook#Danhausen#Wardlow#wwe#daddies
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jeff Hardy x Lita
Summary-
Matt just broke up with her. She didn't do anything wrong?.. What.
Once Lita left the lockeroom, she slid down the door and started sobbing.
What felt like eternity, which in reality was only a couple seconds she felt Jeff's presence and felt him start hugging her. When they go back to the hotel they wake up in quite a rough situation
~
Every touch feels right
Matt just broke up with her. She didn't do anything wrong?.. What.
Once Lita left the lockeroom, she slid down the door and started sobbing. What did she do to deserve this. She just fuckin told Matt she loved him for godsake.
What felt like eternity which in reality was only a couple seconds she felt Jeff's presence and felt him start hugging her asking her what was wrong.
"i-i went in there to talk to Matt, I wanted to tell him i was sorry, and i told i loved him and he said that we're breaking up" She explained in a teary voice
When she looked up she saw in staring at her with the most concerned gaze. It made her feel loved for once. She doubted Matt ever cared about her. Jeff was always caring and protective. Matt always got jealous.
He kept whispering comforting things in her ear to help her calm down.
"you shouldn't of went in there, You're sticking with me alright, it'll be alright don't worry" He reassured her
They lost their handicapped match.
Her and Matt were offically done and apparently so were the Hardyz.
Jeff and Lita felt empty. All they had was each other now.
When they got backstage Lita was trying very hard not to burst into tears right then and there. Jeff saw this and brought them into a private area and gave her the biggest hug and let her sob her heart out.
"Its okay Li let it all out its alright, Matts just a dick" He told her
"i know i just feel bad, Its all my fault." she cried
"No the hell is it not Lita" He started
He broke the hug and said
"Hey come back to my hotel room we can invite Edge and Christian over as a distraction. How does that sound?" he finishes
She nodded slighty and smiled at him
"Thank you" She whispered gratefully
"No need to thank me" He whispered back
Both of them were heading to the hotel and all Lita could think about was everything that just happened. It would take her awhile to get over the breakup. Her heart hurts for Jeff. She knows he's hurting but he he's hiding it. He's quite good at that. But she's so thankful she still has Jeff.
They arrived at the hotel and booked another room since they weren't going to risk going back to their shared room with Matt. They dont even know why they were sharing a room. They were already having problems. All of them. Everything was so tense and awkward and they could feel the anger and annoyance radiating off of Matt.
Once they booked another room for them to share they called up Edge and Christian once they were settled told them to bring up beer.
They weren't planning on drinking a lot obviously. Just enough so they could get away from their problems.
~
It was about 2 hours later and all of them were black out drunk. They played every game they could think of, Truth or dare, would you rather, and even twister and monopoly- things didn't really end well with that game. She had no idea where the boys got that mat and gameboard from she never even saw them bring it in.
They were partying inside the small hotel room. They didn't even get any noise complaints. Pretty shocking.
When she woke up and sat up a bit then looked around and saw Edge and Christian on the floor cuddling each other just in their underwear. She stiffled a laugh at that even though it was quite adorable.
She finally looked down at herself and saw she was naked. WHAT?!
oh fuck.
And of course the person laying next to her- who was also naked, was Jeff hardy,
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck." She panicked
Her panicking woke up the other three men and when they all realised the situation. Every. single. person. froze in shock.
"Oh shit man" Edge laughed
Christian just felt awkward but felt sympathy for the two while also trying not to laugh in shock
Both men rushed to put on all of their clothes and left so fast without even saying goodbye.
Leaving the two to sit in silence
"Li I'm so so-" Jeff started
"Don't apolagize its not your fault. We were drunk it didn't mean anything" she said to him.
She felt a pit in her stomach after she finished to last sentance, and apparently, so did Jeff because she seen him frown slightly for a second before it was completely gone and nodded his head, agreeing.
They both awkwardly grabbed their clothes avoiding any eye contact what so ever and left the room without saying a word.
When they got to the lobby they came to the realization that they should probably talk about this and that's when the shock truly set in.
They walked outside and went to a secluded area and just stood there staring at each other.
"If it makes it any better I don't remember anything that happened between you and I last night" Jeff confesses
"Neither do i" Lita agrees
"But what were we thinking" she continues in a slight whining tone
"I don't know, I really dont know.." His voice fades off
They both stared at each other once again. Even though neither of them would admit, they know they're the ones for each other. She was never truly in love with Matt, like she loved him of course but it didn't feel right but with Jeff it did. She just never said anything.
Before any of them think they jump into each other's arms and hug each other tightly
Lita breaks of the hug a bit so attach her lips to Jeff's
They both continue the kiss until they break apart and smile brokenly to one another. They knew this was wrong. Very wrong but neither of them did anything to stop it. They didn't want to stop it.
"Screw Matt Li stay with me, please. I'd never fuckin break your heart like that" He promises
She believes him.
To answer his question she smiles and kisses him again while putting her hands on his face and rubs his cheeks.
He wraps his arms her waist and rubs her soft skin.
Every touch felt right.
This was right- Maybe. Well at least for now it was. They could deal with everything else later.
~cross-posted on Wattpad & ao3~
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ehe I'm back to writing after an unplanned hiatus.
Peter Parker never got the chance to do a lot of things but this time he gets to go to Oscorp and has a great time (/gen)
Aka my old spider verse is kicking back in cuz I'm mad my favorite variants weren't visible in the new film.
#spider man#spiderverse imagine#daredevil#shang chi#peter parker#matt murdock#oscorp#spidey my love#spiderverse oc#into the spider verse#but my own tho#mcu fanfiction#fanfic writing#fanfiction#gwen stacy#felicia hardy#sister maggie#spider man villains#foreshadowing
0 notes
Text
Bray Wyatt gave so much the world with his creativity, his passion, his brilliance and imagination. Whether he was the Eather of Worlds, The Fiend, or in The Firefly Fun House, whether he was by himself, with The Wyatt Family, with Matt Hardy, Randy Orton or Alexa Bliss, he always had our attention and our hearts.
He’ll go down in history as one of the most creative, brilliant wrestlers to ever exist. A genius. He gave so much to us… thank you, thank you for everything. Rest in Peace, legend.
He’s got the whole world in his hands…
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ATTITUDE || 020
it finally worked OMG. 1, 2, is this on….
also, i cant believe attitude won over golden i was like “:O” but i can kinda see that now lmao
there is kinda a lot going on here but when isn't this series chaotic? hope you guys like it anyway. shout out to mickie dressing up as trish stratus. thank you for your service mickie stratus....again this is pretty shorter than i wanted it to be and i apologize LMAO
YOU JUST WANT to cry. Cry as hard as you can. Tonight, you lost. And there's nothing you can do to change it. You could have a rematch many weeks from now, but nothing changes the fact you lost at Vengeance.
“Jeff Hardy will pay for his transgressions.” Raven says, bandaging up his wrists. “I will see to it that he will never try and fight with me again.”
He only came around after your “temper-tantrum” was over. You’re not sure if that was a good thing or not.
There are still a few chairs isolated around the room (since..you pretty much threw them in anger), shelves knocked over, and here you were, sitting on the ground. In the process, you had even accidentally hurt yourself.
There’s a lot to take in. For a second, you consider telling Dr. Smiley about this.
Raven ordered you to clean yourself up a bit, noticing that you had a mix of dried blood and fresh blood on your hands and arm.
So you are. You’re scrubbing away with moist towelettes.
“A mere Hardy boy thinks he can get the best of me. Crazy.” He complains. “However, everything isn’t a total loss. The blood I shed today can only make us closer, [Name].”
As strange as it sounds, you’d like to think he’s right. From your blood and his own, despite scrubbing it off, perhaps this just means you two will grow a stronger bond.
There’s nothing for you to say, really. You didn’t want to upset him if you told him you were mad at him. But he wasn’t alone, you were also angry at Jeff.
And you didn’t even want to ask what he thought of the match itself..
The both of them ruined it anyways. At this point, you’re sure Torrie’s got the air rushing to her head and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she can beat you all the time.
This was just a nightmare.
The door to the locker room opens to reveal none other than the Women’s Champion with a smile on her face…before it falls into a nasty glare. “Um, excuse me, this is the women’s locker room.” She says, attempting to stare Raven dead in the eye.
“I know.” He doesn’t even spare her a glance, instead opting to finish up his bandaging.
“Then get out.” Trish orders. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to. I’m having a conversation. If you don’t like it, then you can go away.”
She looks offended. When the champion gives someone an order, they’re expected to follow! “Not gonna happen. Again, women’s locker room? If you don’t get out, I’m gonna call someone and they’ll throw you out. So you better go..”
You look at Raven and he looks at you. There's a look in your eye that's signaling for him to just leave it be. Thankfully, he simply groans and walks past Trish begrudgingly to the exit.
"Good riddance," She mumbles, slamming the door behind him. When she turns back to look at you, she feels like she's right back to square one. “You’re uh…you were really loud earlier. Are you okay?”
Her voice rung through your ears like bells. She sounds very nervous. She can clearly see the chairs lying around. Victims, all of them..
She too had meant to come earlier, but after hearing how angry you were, decided against it.
You rub your hands over your face. By loud, she must’ve meant that you’ve been screaming in anger for the past hour. You’re pissed and rightfully so.
“Do I look okay?!” You exasperatedly say, jumping up from your spot. It startles her. “Do you think I look okay right now???”
“Well, I mean, you look very pretty…?” Trish says, but for some reason it sounds more like a question than a statement.
You just look up at her to stare. You don’t know whether you want to slap her or come over and just hug her and cry.
“See, I just wanted to say that I saw your match, err…half of the locker room saw it, actually. I’m sorry that happened.” She admits, throwing her title over her shoulder. Trish doesn’t know what else to offer you other than her condolences.
Sorry didn’t change anything. Sorry didn’t change the fact you lost. Sorry didn’t change the fact you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of Raven.
With her successful title offense and your unsuccessful match, she starts to feel horrible. She hides it behind her back, hoping that you’d see her as any other competitor.
“Yet again, another man ruins it for us women.” She rolls her eyes. “Ugh. I can’t stand them sometimes. And I don’t know what you’ve got going on with Raven, but he just gives me bad vibes.”
You just stare at Trish in silence, so she decided to continue her tangent.
Trish comes a little closer, seeing that you have not reached for any projectiles. The sight of your face makes her frown, you really look worn down…
She’s not entirely sure how to comfort you with all those words, but she reaches a hand out to set a hand on your shoulder.
It's when you start to spill out everything that’s on your mind. Before you know it, tears start to stream down your cheeks.
“I don’t know what to do! I lost! This is humiliating! I lost to someone who can’t even tell the difference between a arm lock and a wrist lock!”
….......
Trish pauses for a second. Of course she’s not gonna tell you she had trouble with identifying them at first. “Hey, hey, it’s okay! There's always next time.."
“It’s just not enough! Raven’s gonna be so embarrassed, he’s never gonna come out with me again and—“
“Who cares about Raven?” Trish interrupts you. “Listen, you two may be a thing or whatever, but you definitely don’t need his approval.”
You didn’t need Raven’s approval? That’s wrong. Of course you did. After all, he’s saved you. Saved you from yourself and started a slow journey to help you figure out who you truly are.
This really was you. And you needed to welcome it in with open arms.
“And on top of that,” She continues. “You don’t need any man’s approval! Take it from me, the old mistress of Mr. McMahon..”
“What?! Ew!” You exclaim. Thinking that it was a bit rude, you cover your mouth. “Oops, I’m sorry..”
“No, ew is right. Now that I think about it, I don’t even know why I did that..” Trish sighs. “Maybe it was for more opportunities. Maybe it was so T&A could have an advantage. Either way, nothing good came out of it. I was humiliated on television. But hey, look where I am now?”
She then shows you her title with a smile. “On top of the world!“
You smile at her, but there’s a twinge of bitterness among your expression. Trish seems to falter. That isn’t what she meant to do.
“T&A?” You repeat, doing your best to ignore the title. “What’s that?”
“I used to be a valet. T&A was a tag team. Test and Albert, if you’ve seen them around.” She says. “It’s over now, but wow. Anyway, it's probably best if we talk about you instead."
You wipe your eye. "Me?"
"Yeah." She nods. "Obviously, you need to get your head back in the game..to get people's mind off of your loss, why not try and make a statement?"
Trish doesn't exactly understand what she's just done. It dawns on you that your Hardy boy slash Lita plan has yet to be in action. If she says to make a statement, then that's exactly what you'll do.
"You're you. So show everybody else who exactly you are!" She says, poking you a bit too harshly on the chest.
You know exactly how you’d do it.
“Thanks, Trish. I know exactly what'll do.” You say, giving her a grin. She's stroked the fire that should've been put out weeks ago. “I need to get changed.”
“Hold on—...” Trish wasn’t exactly done talking to you yet, but you’re already heading out the door. Maybe you've gotten the correct message...
BACKSTAGE // 7:51 PM
The makeup artist, Jan, helped you out with adjusting your makeup and your new hair.
“Thanks, Jan.” You wave, hopping out of the chair. You better hurry, you were sure the match between Jeff and Matt already started.
You look at yourself in the mirror. It’s you, but you’re copying Lita. You’ve never really tried to do it before, preferably doing your own thing. You loved her style, yet you never thought you would see yourself mimicking her.
You don’t want anyone to see you, it’d ruin the surprise and you’d rather not deal with the awkwardness that comes along with it.
Lita, Lita, Lita….she’s made such a big mistake. She’s supposed to be your friend, but she turns around and talks about you behind your back? She’s just like Torrie. No, she's like everyone else.
And you really liked Lita too. It’s a shame you had to do this and it’s an even bigger shame to have to beat her up after Vengeance. She can’t win against you. You’re sure this’ll be your second time winning against her.
Lita just can’t compare. She can do as many hurricanrana’s and moonsaults as she pleases! She’s just not you. She will never be you.
Gosh, you should’ve known she would do that. Lita reassured you that she’d never hurt you, but here Debra was, telling you what she “said” verbatim. She must have been jealous, yes, that was it. Jealousy for sure.
Or, so you think. You still haven’t figured out that she was fabricating most of it. More than likely you won’t realize until it’s too late.
Seeing your own reflection makes you laugh. It makes you laugh so hard that you couldn’t even breathe for a second. It comes to a halt when you realize you’re wasting time. You have to get out there.
You’re trying to brush on some eyeshadow when you’re startled by a loud voice..
“Lita! You’ve got some guts showin’ up around here..”
Great. This is just the person you want to see. He’s going to regret this. So are you. You slowly turn around, shaking your head. “No, I’m not Lita, I’m—“
“Debra?!?!! Where's my pacemaker!?” Austin yelled out, clutching his chest. The outfit you were in was absolutely horrific to see.
You want to laugh so bad, but you know he’s THIS close to killing you. This just solidifies it. Austin just knew he couldn’t let you out of his sight for one second. Debra told him to let you do your thing, now look where that got you.
Now you look just like Lita, the woman who had no idea what belts were, the woman who you’d be going up against after Vengeance.
First, it was that damn Raven, now it's this? He has a lot to talk with you about.
You can hear Debra loudly suck her teeth from the other room. “Gosh, what is it now, Steve?!” She seems aggravated, but the moment she steps outside and sees you was when it disappears. “…Oh my.”
Austin takes one look at you, then covers his head and shakes it in shame. Pain. Pain is all he feels right now. “What in the hell are you wearing?” He finally asks.
“I just….uh.” You’re not sure what to say. How could you explain yourself? “There’s Lita and...I wanted to do a thing, you see.”
“A thing?” Debra quirks an eyebrow at you. Hopefully she’s not angry or anything. You're not sure whether to be more afraid of Austin or HER!
“You know what? I’m just gonna run away now.” This is exactly what you wanted to avoid right now. Before they can say anything else to you, you book it down the hall back to gorilla.
You can hear both of them calling your name, but you don’t even look back.
VENGEANCE // 8:03 PM
“One, two—!!“
As Lita’s in the middle of counting the pin, you happily skip down the ramp, waving to the fans as you go. Lita turns over towards the front where you were, a look of confusion on her face.
What were you doing?
Lita completely disregards Matt’s pin attempt, heading over to the ring ropes. She leans forward on them, trying to yell your name. “Hey! [Name]! What’re you doing??” You look just like her, which is strange because you looked completely normal earlier.
'Look at this! I told you she's got a couple of screws loose!' Jerry exclaimed. 'Talk about double trouble.'
'I almost can't tell who's who..' JR remarked. There was a bit of sarcasm behind his voice.
You don’t reply to her, instead looking up at her with a smile. You even mock her little Hardy hand sign. Then, you just start to skip around the ring.
Lita’s eyes don’t stop following you. She doesn’t even care about the match right now. Why are you dressed up like that?!
Jeff and Matt hadn’t even noticed you, nor did they notice Lita’s attention being pulled away. “Hey!!” She tries once again to get your attention. “[Name]! What the hell?!”
Finally, you give her your undivided attention. You jump onto the ring apron with a smile. Lita’s finally able to come towards you.
You can hear her complaints a little better now, but who cares? You want to express how much you hate her. You feel like you’ve made a lot of bad decisions and you feel as if there will be more to come in the future.
For some reason, this is the only way you could convey how much you hate her right now.
You bring her in for a kiss. It ended as quick as it started, and it definitely looked more like a hug than anything. The moment Lita tries to swipe at you, it was already over.
The crowd makes a “whoaaa!” sound, which means you’ve got them right where you want them. But most importantly, you think you’ve got Team Xtreme’s main girl right where you want her.
Lita looks like she’s seen a ghost. Though even as she pales, she starts to turn red. She wasn’t expecting that at all.
…That….actually really hurt. You did it so haphazardly that Lita has to swipe a finger against her lip just to check if she was bleeding.
And nope, as your research has concluded, talent wasn’t transmitted that way either. You make a note to let Torrie know.
Lita's not sure whether to have hated that exchange or have enjoyed it. She's never really thought about you doing something like that, let along anything romantic despite you two being pretty good friends.
She feels like if she truly did like this, then she'd be betraying Jeff. But that kiss made her feel weird. It's something she hasn't felt in quite a while. Matt couldn't even make her feel that way.
There's something different about your lips being on her own. And even in that serious moment, she finds herself wanting it to happen again.
It's wrong, but she has to admit it, she doesn't want to be right at all. She’s too caught up in the moment. Before she knew it, you quickly enter the ring and tackle her.
If you’re supposed to be “Lita”, then you’ll be Lita. You take her referee shirt off, leaving her in the pink fishnet top she wore under it.
The crowd cheers, of course. For a moment you consider taking off your own shirt but decide against it, sliding it up and over your head. You’re the referee now.
It's a strangely cut shirt and it's especially uncomfortable with the shirt you have under, but you don't really care.
Every single person in the arena is confused. From the crowd, to the commentators, to the three that were in the ring with you.
Just what's going on through your head? You spin around in a circle. This moment just has the euphoria coursing through your veins, yet you're not sure why.
You feel like you can truly be yourself.
You weren't a sweet Nitro girl anymore. You're someone who's finding their own way in this world. If anyone wants to get out alive, they'd better move out of the way. It's every man and woman for themselves.
Trish was right. You don't need Raven's approval. You loved him dearly, yes, but just doing things by yourself felt much more natural.
It’s Matt’s turn to come over to you, and he's pissed. Not only had you kissed Lita, but you're interfering in his match. He genuinely thinks that this was an attempt to make him lose. He can't let that happen.
Yet again, you’re here to possibly ruin someones career.
He’s screaming some nonsense at you and all you’re doing is twirling your hair. "Hey!" Matt (halfway) snaps you out of your trance. "What's your deal?!"
“Don’t you think I’m pretty?!” You suddenly ask. “Look, you see I’m Lita! Tell me I’m pretty! Or....maybe you wanna kiss me too?”
Matt stops his yelling to look at you in confusion. Nothing but word vomit seems to be coming out of your mouth. You pucker your lips in anticipation, but Matt just shakes his head at you.
The match is starting to derail and it gets worse when Jeff slowly starts to get up and look over at the commotion.
“What’s going on—?” He too, gets struck by the arrow of confusion. You think it’s a good look for him, although he tends to look confused 50% of the time.
Still, no one even had a clue what they should do. Technically, were you the referee now? Both brothers didn't know if they should still follow Lita's orders or follow yours.
In a stunning turn of events, Jeff shoves Matt out of the way, coming towards you. "[Name], are you alright?! Why’re you dressed like that?”
To everyone, this was well deserved. Especially since he came out and ruined your own match. Fortunately for him, you truly had other things in mind.
"You ruined my match!“ You cry out, throwing your fists to hit him in the chest. “Everything is your fault! If you didn't attack Raven, I would’ve won! I hate you!”
You’re starting to actually hurt him, so he has to grab your arms to stop your flailing. “You don’t mean that—hey! Listen to me! Go backstage!” You're obviously not in the right state of mind. He can't have you out here.
The match can still be saved, he thinks. There's still time. If he can get your attention off and somehow get you backstage, everything can continue like nothing happened!
And later, he can finally talk to you about what he did. If you wanted answers, that’s what he’ll give you. Just not now.
“I don’t care! I’m not leaving!” You refuse. He’s slowly starting to get a bit irritated. This isn't a good time and he can tell something's not right in your head at the moment.
He’s going to say something else, but Matt comes over and shoves him away. He’s not happy about Jeff pushing him earlier.
They get into an argument, and Lita takes this opportunity to confront you about your behavior. “What was that?! Give me my shirt!"
And no one could call off the match. Well, Lita technically could, but almost all rules have been thrown out the window thanks to your appearance.
You don't say anything, so she pushes you. Something inside of you just snapped as soon as you were pushed, so you tackle her once again and start to hit her.
Now everyone's arguing. But the boys have to put a pause on their own dispute to handle you and Lita's altercation. Jeff has to yank you off of the poor woman, hooking his arms under your own so you can't move them.
Matt’s busy helping Lita up, doing the best to stabilize her.
"Cut it out!" He yells. The crowd can only be happy that they’ve got a taste of what’s to come after Vengeance.
You think you’ve done enough damage. “You want your shirt? Here!” You take it off and throw it in her direction. “You can have it! I’m out of here.”
Jeff is taken aback by your sudden mood shift. You were just aggressive but now you’re backing off? That gut feeling he has is gnawing at him. Something’s just not right.
He lets you go and you roll out of the ring, heading right up towards the ramp. You don’t even look back.
Trish Stratus said to make a statement, so you did. You don’t think anyone would forget this bizarre match.
That’s the way it should be.
BACKSTAGE // 9:45 PM
You seriously have to breathe. It’s starting to be difficult to even try.
Torrie’s win really has gotten under your skin. It shouldn’t have, but somehow it wormed its way under.
To add onto that, that short adrenaline burst from earlier’s interference had been still lingering. Even as you pick up your cup of water, your hand is still shaking.
All that’s left for the night was the Undisputed Championship match. All the matches have come and gone. All that’s left was Chris Jericho and Stone Cold Steve Austin.
The match was definitely in it's middle stages and things weren't looking so well.
You were advised not to go out there again, with Debra being the main person telling you no. She’s not sure if she witnessed a mental breakdown or an identity crisis, but she doesn’t want you to go out and make things more worse than they already are.
She felt that she had to stay behind with you to not only cheer you up a bit, but to break the news. She knew the outcome of the match.
“Are you feeling okay?” Debra suddenly asks. “You’re shaking like a dog.” She pats your shoulder and you nod.
“I’ve never felt better!” You chime. Debra knows that it’s probably not true, but she keeps it pushing.
“I think you should sit down…” She gently pushes you over to a chair and you oblige, taking a seat right in front of her. “You’ve done a lot tonight. I think it’s time for you to head back to the hotel.”
“But the match.."
Debra waves her hand at you. "Steve should be fine. And besides, it's not going the way you want it to." Before you can question her, she continues on. "He doesn't win the title. Chris Jericho wins the title."
You gasp and cover your mouth. Was she serious?! "You're kidding!"
Sometimes the finishes of matches was to be expected, but to think Jericho was going over.....you just couldn't believe it. You're not as panicked as you would originally be, because you knew that you'd see him tonight.
Triple H would come and "save" you by attacking him in the hotel room. Maybe that's all the revenge you need. So after she confirms it with a nod, you sigh. "Alrighty then.."
"Just alright?" Debra's wary. You're not snapping. Not angry. You're just okay. "You sure?"
"Yes."
At the very least you could watch the match from the monitor. But the night just isn't over. It's not over until they go off the air. Your revenge will come soon, even if you're not the one mainly attacking him.
Though, you weren't sure about being in lingerie on national television. You're not even sure if green actually fits you.
Honestly, you’ve never been a fan of those kind of things. Back then, you were somehow able to slip between the cracks of the monstrosities that were called gimmick matches.
Oh yes, you always chickened out. Sometimes you couldn’t get away with it, but the times you did, you ended up on some sort of cleaning duty backstage.
Very annoying. Even in WCW’s dying days, you somehow were always a victim to backstage politics, even if you were a woman.
Not having enough time. Having too much time. The crowd likes you too much. Things of that nature.
Fortunately the producers were more focused on your wrestling skill. They left most of the expose to Torrie and Stacy.
Sure, it hurt a little bit. Maybe gave the slightest hit to your confidence. But it’s kind of what you want.
“I have to ask, [Name]. Just what in the world was that earlier? Gosh, you’re lucky I urged Steve to get ready for his match.”
You did feel lucky. You’d rather have Debra talk to you than him, even if you were a bit more scared of her..
“Trish said I should make a statement, so I tried to make one. To get people to forget about my match.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” She crosses her arms. “If you ask me, that is the complete opposite of making a statement. I’m sure people think you’re out of your god dang mind.”
Okay, you might have screwed that up. But you’re starting to reach into the territory of not caring anymore.
“And more importantly—“ Debra is interrupted by the door opening.
The both of you turn your heads to see none other than a tired Jeff Hardy stood before you two.
“Hey. Sorry to interrupt. Can I talk to [Name] alone, please?”
You can just feel things becoming tense yet again. Guess it’s time to lay in the bed that fate has seemed to make for you.
tbh now that i think about it? golden!debra is probably gonna be different towards reader just because of jeff jarett. it’s not like a mentor thing, so i hope you know where im going with this…either way QUEEN DEBRA!!!!
i feel like this chapter wasn't what i wanted to be because of TUMBLR but either way i still hope you liked it for now im going to try and start putting the remaining bits into another post. so one portion will be past vengeance and next will be another show i suppose.
jeff wasn’t exactly mean to us right now, i ended it on a cliff hanger, but it’s coming for sure + triple h beating jericho up while we watch and cheer HEEHEE!
#wwe attitude series#wwe x reader#wwe imagine#wwe various x reader#lita x reader#lita imagine#jeff hardy imagine#jeff hardy x reader#matt hardy x reader#matt hardy imagine#trish stratus x reader#trish stratus imagine#wwe raven x reader#wwe raven imagine#chris jericho imagine#triple h x reader#triple h imagine#im playing toontown heehee
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wish WWE was open to working with other promotions because they could have a reoccurring bit of R-Truth “accidentally” showing up at shows and Miz having to come get him. Imagine Tony Khan trying to explain to Truth that this is AEW and Matt and Nick Jackson walk up and Truth refers to them as The Hardy Boyz or Truth at NJPW and he sees Moxley and he’s like “Where’s the rest of the Shield” or he shows up in TNA and sees Jordynne Grace and is like “Beth Phoenix! It’s been a long time!”
#I just like silly wrestling#and I think they should all work together to take our money#wwe#r truth#r-truth#the miz#aew#njpw#tna#matt jackson#nick jackson#jon moxley#jordynne grace
362 notes
·
View notes
Text
only smile in the dark [matt murdock x fem!reader]
A/N: Written for my darling Pheebs for our Discord’s Dicked-Down-December event.
Summary: You and your sometimes-antagonist, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, are snowed in together – in his apartment of all places – after he gets you out of a jam. Will the two of you survive the night? Or will you find some common ground?
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!black cat!reader (reader is a cat burglar and a minor antagonist to Matt Murdock, based on Felicia Hardy)
Word Count: 5.9k of the warm blanket of being snowed-in with your vigilante nemesis, of traded quips and loose lips.
Warnings: p-in-v sex, so 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex, sensory overload, dirty talk, oral (fem!receiving) not-so-hateful hatefucking, mild enemies to lovers, mild bondage, sacrilegious dialogue.
“We have got to stop meeting like this.”
You rolled your eyes beneath your Domino mask as you braced yourself for the approaching footsteps that carried the object of your annoyance from behind you and into your view, bent over the safe as you were, hand poised to deliver the final crack.
Sure enough, onto your field of view came the crimson boots (and everything else attached to them) of your – was arch-nemesis too dramatic? – your whatever he was… Erstwhile annoyance. Masked menace. Devastating devil. – No, not devastating. Stop it.
You spun on your heel, flipping the long hair of the silver wig over your shoulder.
“Hi, Devil-Boy,” you curled your fingers in a flirtatious little wave. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He scoffed, stopping in front of you and crossing his arms over his chest. You could just imagine the disapproval in his eyes behind the foggy cherry glass of the mask.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he gestured to the grandiose room. Here. The study in Fisk’s Hell’s Kitchen-based secondary office. Where you had made your mark to pick up some valuable information for a client (and maybe some valuable stones in the safe – call it a finder’s fee – for yourself). You'd certainly made a name for yourself as one of the most proficient cat burglars – ugh, you'd hated that phrase … try proficient diamond thief – in the city.
You prided yourself on remaining undetected. On the quick inside time for your deliverables. But, well, sometimes… unfortunate incidents occurred.
“And you should?” you raised an eyebrow at your current unfortunate incident, replete with horned mask. You propped a hip against the desk of this ostentatious office, pretending to examine your manicured nails through the black leather of your gloves. “Tell me, Red-Dead, what’s the going rate for your oh-so-noble vigilantism? I guarantee it isn't as high as for my services. So let's not waste my time. Is this the part where you ask me, ‘What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?’”
The devil from your dreams, whom you'd had the unfortunate misfortune to run into on several nights just like this one stepped toward you. Head slightly inclined, as though he were a bull gearing up to charge. And if you had been one of those arms-dealing goons he beat up on the regular, or perhaps a Russian mobster, or a Fisk goon, you might have felt intimidated.
No. Your run-ins with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had been much more – could you call them pleasant? He had broken up a few of your smaller-time heists, letting you off with a slap on the wrist after a tussle that had left you weak in the knees. And who wouldn’t be? After trading quips and blows – don’t think about ‘blows’ – with a man whose firm thighs between your own felt as though they could crack walnuts when you had rolled on top of him during a prior fight. Whose suit made his chest look that much more expansive.
No, your exchanges were coy and cloying. And they ended much the same: in a half-hearted tease of a fight that left you with an ache between your legs and his sinful, syrupy voice warning you that he "wouldn't let you off so easy next time" reverberating through your ears for the rest of the night. That left you with the lingering temptation to slide your hands beneath your expensive covers when you were safely back in your lush apartment, imagining his hands instead of yours gliding through your glistening folds. Imagining his voice, still in your ear.
Wondering if he was imagining you. If he dreamt of the way you teasingly left a trail of crimson lipstick smeared up the cheek of his mask as you dragged your lips there, murmuring that this was no way to treat a lady. If he imagined the way you flexed your fingers, like a cat's claws, up the expanse of his chest when you bested him in a fight, wishing you could feel the drag of your nails along his skin instead of his armoured suit. If the click of your heeled boots as you sauntered through an open window – tossing him a wink before slipping away into the night – reverberated in his mind.
You supposed you would never know.
The energy between the two of you had always been thick, like dusky clouds impregnated with rain in a summer storm – waiting to fall, waiting to devastate. Stuffed with the smell of sagebrush and cleansing promise.
And if you’d managed a successful little robbery? Well, were you disappointed if he didn’t show up to chase you off with pulled punches and heaving chest? –
“Oh no, sweetheart,” He smiled, snapping you from your risqué reveries with a sardonic grin of bared teeth beneath his mask. “I know what kind of girl you are. And I know what you’re doing in a place like this. No need to ask.”
“That's disappointing. Of all the so-called heroes running around this city in Spandex, like a bunch of moral high ground losers, I don't know why I ended up with you. And I don’t know why you insist on trying to get in my way,” you hissed through the bared teeth of a forced grin. “I’m a perfectly reasonable girl, Devil. I don’t get in your way. You shouldn’t get in mine.”
“Honey, this isn’t Spandex.” He half-heartedly made to reach for you with an outstretched hand – which you swatted in kind, procuring a small blade with your other hand and bringing it to his throat.
He swallowed, the edge of your blade snicking against the skin of his throat as he swallowed.
“I can’t just,” he began, swallowing once more before swatting at your wrist with a gloved hand, knocking the blade away from his throat, and boxing you into the desk, “I can’t just let you take shit that doesn’t belong to you. And girls like you don’t play nice.”
“You could, Devil. And so could I,” you shrugged, meeting the glass eyepieces of his mask with wide, doe eyes of your own, fluttering your lashes. “I’d be ever-so-grateful if you just let this one slide?” You glanced out the window, inclining your head at the thick, fluttering flakes that were starting to fall in the New York chill. “I’ve gotta get home, and, baby, it’s cold outside.”
"You –" the Devil stopped himself, tilting his head like a dog listening to a whistle only he could hear, full lips parting as he took in whatever it was he was hearing.
"D-" you began, curious about his sudden pause, trying not to prickle like a skittish cat.
"Shut. Up.," he hissed, snatching your wrist and tugging you from your spot by the desk, marching you past the exposed face of the safe you had been stopped from cracking, and toward the wide window of the office. "They're here."
"Who's here?" You questioned, attempting to tug your wrist free from his tightening hold, to no avail.
The Daredevil appraised you, the tilt of his mask indicating a sweeping survey of your person before continuing,
"Fisk's men. All of them. And they're looking for you. I think you've been set up, sweetheart… Yeah, that's," he swallowed. "That's a lot of heartbeats downstairs. And outside." More to himself than you.
You raised a brow at him again, sardonic. Heartbeats? Doing your best to bite down the panic currently climbing within you with the thin veneer of a sneering grin.
"Then let go of me and let me get out of here," you tugged at your wrist in his grip.
"That's not gonna work, kitten," he responded, wryly. "We've only got a few seconds. I can get you outta here, but you've gotta trust me."
"Trust you?" You hissed, "The guy who tries to turn me in after every little tango? How about …" you tapped a spare finger to your chin, as though deep in thought, "hell no."
"We don't have time for this," he pleaded. "I'm not gonna sell you out to Fisk," he sneered the name through a curled lip. "I'd rather rot."
You studied him for the barest moment, the tenseness in his shoulders at the approaching threat. The warmth of his grip around you, even though the gloves. The clear, demonstrable distaste for Fisk evident in his voice, in the exposed lower-half of his face, the set of his jaw. How he’d always let you go before.
"Fine," you whispered. "I'm trusting you. On a probationary basis. Get me somewhere safe."
Which was how you found yourself stealing away on snow-covered rooftops, the packed powder muffling your steps, and all traces of your journey wiped away in the weather. As you shivered in your bodysuit behind the man leading you through a rooftop window and into an expansive loft space. An apartment.
You strode into the open space of a living room, eyeing the wide windows and exposed brick.
“Nice digs, Devil,” you whistled. “This, like, your safe-house?”
“No,” his voice echoed not-so-distantly behind you as he also made his way down the stairs and into the common area. “Though that would have been much smarter.”
“Don’t tell me you live here?” You whirled around as you watched the Devil remove his gloves, tossing them into a trunk and exposing fine-boned, long-fingered hands, shrugging his shoulders at you, turning his head as if to gesture to the now-storm outside.
“Not up to your standards?” He mocked. “Sorry. It’s not exactly the Plaza. But it was close by. And no one will know you’re here.”
You perched yourself on the edge of his couch, feeling distinctly out of place in a lived-in place with your catsuit, wig, and mask. A clash of ideals. Not unlike you and the man before you.
“Is it wise,” you arched your brow at him, voice acerbic, “to bring someone like me into your home …?”
You leaned forward on the couch, eyeing a stack of mail and papers on the coffee table. And though the Devil seemed to be observing your plain-sight snooping, he made no move to stop you. You leaned forward,
“Matt Murdock,” you finished, reading the name off of the envelopes. Why was that name familiar to you?
The Devil – Matt Murdock – removed his helmet, allowing you to take in the man behind the mask. Pretty dark hair, matted by the helmet, a strong jaw, full lips. Fringed lashes framing hazel eyes that seemed to … look right past you.
Oh.
“Well I suppose my identity remains intact,” you tried to gently tease, removing your Domino mask and your wig, settling yourself into his couch, as he made to remove the rest of his stiff armour.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, kitten,” he turned to face you again, breezing past you through the space and clattering with a tea kettle, of all things.
While the kettle brewed, he scooped a Braille paper from the countertop, slapping it down in front of you, and reading your father’s last name from the headline.
“And here you are,” he finished, “the daughter of a tycoon who likes to get her rocks off stealing Upper East Siders’ jewelry. Moonlighting as a cat burglar. I’ve known since we met.”
Your breath hitched, your eyes trailing over Matt’s form. The evenness of his voice. He was confident, assured. No question in his assessment of you. You’d balk at it, at the fear that should prickle through you at knowing who you were. But… he hadn’t done anything with that information til now, had he?
“In that alleyway behind that stuffy old coot’s apartment?” You queried.
“Oh, sure,” he eased. “Girl like you doesn’t often go to that part of town. I recognized your perfume. And the way you sound walking in heels. Like I said, we’ve met before.”
You lifted yourself from the couch easily, swooping past Matt to kick off your heeled boots by the door. You may as well make yourself comfortable, follow his lead, if he wasn’t going to kick you out into the snow or otherwise turn you in. Easing into his kitchen to remove the now-whistling kettle from the heat, processing where you might know Matt Murdock from.
“We didn’t go on a date, surely? I might have remembered. You’re certainly handsome, though I’m sure you hear that all the time.”
Matt chuckled at that, a dry, wry rumble from his throat, as he scruffed the back of his sweaty neck with his palm, using his other hand to unstick the clinging fabric of his undersuit from his skin.
“No,” he snorted. “We didn’t go out. I’d definitely remember if we had,” he accepted the cup of tea you now passed him.
“Then …” you eyed him over the rim of your own mug, which boasted, in loud text “World’s Best Lawyer.”
It clicked.
“Matt Murdock,” you breathed, “the attorney with a hard-on for bringing down Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you were –”
“At the gala. That political event for bigwigs who wanted to raise money for their campaigns to sweep crime out of Hell’s Kitchen. We met,” his sentences were punctuated. “Briefly. Your dress was killer, by the way.”
“How…?” You made to ask just how the blind, humble pro bono lawyer from the nighttime news could exactly tell that you looked killer in your Yves Saint Laurent gown. Or how he could pull off that ninja shit night after night.
“Devil’s gotta have his secrets, sweetheart,” he eased, fixing you with a cheeky wink.
Trying to figure the Devil – Matt Murdock – was like trying to catch light in your fingertips as though it were a tangible thing. Toying with dust motes that appeared when you opened the blinds in a dark room. Impossible, devastating, however pretty it may be. And Matt was a do-gooder. Trying to make the city better.
Whereas, you…
A bored little rich girl whose job wasn’t exactly above-board. No, the light seemed to be ever out of your reach – dooming you to a life of shadow. Of secrecy. So, you could respect that he wanted to keep his.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me. I can take the couch, then. I’ll be outta your hair by morning”
You made to settle yourself into the cushions, as though you were queuing him to leave.
“Please, sweetheart,” Matt urged, coming to stand before you now, his hands making their way to your hips.
And it was different from the ways in which he had touched you before – different from your traded blows and quips. Different from the way he would swat at your ass playfully during a fight. Different from the playful tension laden in his voice when he encountered you before. And yet – it was the same. As though all of those run-ins were building to something.
And yeah, it was no secret you enjoyed teasing the Devil. Enjoyed taunting him, toying with him, allowing your touch to linger too long when you departed from him on any given evening. But Matt?
You eyed the crucifix peeking its way from his tight undershirt.
What an altar boy, you thought. No way he would actually want someone like you. Someone who toyed with people with bored, careless fingertips. Someone who broke things because she wanted to.
You allowed yourself to be brought into Matt’s arms,
“At least take the bed,” he urged, finally. “I’ll find you some sweats.”
You snorted at that.
“You just wanna get me out of my suit,” you teased. Eager to restore the balance to what you knew – the quipping banter of antagonists, and not this … blooming flush between the two of you, reflected on the apples of his cheeks at your quip. At the thought of getting you naked.
“I mean,” he recovered. “You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”
“I suspect,” you murmured, trailing your fingers over the peaks of Matt’s face, while his hands tightened on your waist, “that you’re smoother than you let on, Matthew Murdock.”
Matt’s lips met yours then, causing your eyes to flutter shut and snatching the breath from your lungs. He kissed you as though you were sacrosanct. As though the movement of his lips over yours was a prayer he had recited hundreds of times, and would recite hundreds more. At your gasp, he slid his tongue into your mouth, his hands coming to cup your face as he kissed you.
You allowed your hands to roam his body, to feel the firmness of his chest unencumbered by the Devil suit, to appreciate the warmth, the realness of his beating heart beneath the skin of your palms through his thin shirt.
You could barely contain yourself, as the storm raged outside, it building inside of you with every pass of Matt’s hands along your form, with every press of his lips to yours. And it seemed the same was true for Matt.
His hands found his way to the front of your catsuit, easing the zipper down with a smooth, zinging slide, allowing his fingertips to ease in to trail along the skin as it became exposed.
Oh. And if the heat of the room hadn’t been building before, you could certainly feel it now, as you allowed yourself to explore Matt in kind, whimpering at the touch of his hands along the curves of your breasts, the ridges of your ribs. Pulling your lips from his and allowing your eyes to wander as your hands trailed to his waist and to the front of his pants, stroking the outline of his hardness there with tentative touch.
"Not here," Matt's lips left your skin from where they had since been working on your neck, murmuring into your throat. At your quizzical groan, he continued. "Don't be petulant, sweetheart. I'm going to fuck you. Just not here."
In a flurry of feverish movement and stripped layers, Matt had ushered you into his bedroom, urging you down onto his mattress, his lips never leaving yours as he guided you on top of him, with nothing but your panties and a feverish grin as you rolled your hips over Matt’s, relishing in the feel of him, as you knew he was doing to you.
You scratched along his skin with your nails, kissing and sucking his neck as you continued to grind yourself on Matt’s clothed cock.
Quick as a flash, Matt flipped the two of you, a groan catching in his throat at the feel of the weight of you beneath him now, pulling your lips from him and allowing himself to appreciate you, in his bed, in his home …
Matt's fingers stroke along the peak of your cheekbone in a reverent way, a way befitting of a devout man. But the silken touch is also wrong -- it doesn't bely that he's not the sort of man who wraps a hand around your throat when he fucks you (he would), or like he's not the sort of man who gets down on his knees to unravel you with his clever, silver tongue (he is).
But the clean baritone of his voice an ever- pleasant rumble that caressed and ensnared you. Every time you meet. But especially now.
“I’m going to fuck you, sweetheart.”
You could melt. That's the Devil you were expecting.
Matt had removed his shirt, arms crossed as he lifted the fabric from his delightfully muscled torso. Your fingers keen to follow as you trace the planes of his chest.
Your nails caught along the edge of his nipples as your palms skated their way upward, reveling in the choked gasp that ripped its way through his throat at the feeling.
Matt cupped your face with firm hands, guiding you down into his plush, satin-y comforter as his mouth devoured yours. The fabric sang along your skin as you allowed yourself to sink beneath his spell – a servant to the Devil’s whims, as Matt’s hands trailed along your body.With clever tongue – which really could only benefit him as an attorney, right? – and teasing touch, he seemed intent on unraveling you without so much as posing a question. Matt’s heated fingers made their way along your own bare chest, exposed to the wintery-coolness of the room, your nipples pebbling.
You choked on gasps as he made his way down your body, his mouth trailing from yours, to your neck, pressing kisses to your breasts and laving his tongue around your nipple before rendering one with a particularly cruel suck, departing with lips more swollen than before, the popping noise echoing in both of your ears.
And you wondered if the heaving of your chest, the headiness of your breath, was overwhelming to him. In the way that he was overwhelming to you.
Overwhelming was a good word for it. As thick fingers drew their way across the seam of lace adorning your clothed slit, causing you to wriggle in his grasp, the reciprocal shudder from Matt’s body was all the confirmation you needed. He was just as turned on as you.
Turned on by the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. Wrecked by the sound of your gasps in his ears. Besotted with the taste of you beneath his tongue. Intoxicated by the feeling of your mouth on his.
He had been afraid this would happen with you. Had he learned nothing from before? With Ele– not the time.
And Matt felt everything to an impossible degree, he knew. But if only he knew how it was almost flattering to have it confirmed for you ... if the way he was now slowly bucking his hips into the bedspread when you threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged was any indication. Seeking friction that would feel far rougher, far better, than it had any business feeling, thanks to his heightened senses.
“I’ll give you what you want,” he murmured, keening into your tugging touch while he worked his way down the planes and curves of your body.
Grinding himself into the bed as he went, as he buried himself in the cleft of your thighs, the flash of his hot tongue like cracking summer lightning, jolting through you from the very center as he licked a long, sweet stripe along the seam of your clothed cunt.
And it seemed reciprocal, you noted, as he rolled his hips into his bedspread in kind – taking in the feel of you beneath his fingertips as your hips and thighs rolled and writhed beneath his attentions as he continued to lick you. The song of your whimpers sweetly ringing through your ears as he felt himself harden in his boxers.
Thick fingers traced the slick, heated flesh of your center as you felt Matt draw the lace away from you, your arousal clinging to your panties in glistening strands as he pulled them to the side with something like reverence. Fully baring you to him.
And if you’d thought the first hinting taste of his mouth on you, your clothed cunt, was heavenly – saintlike and sweet, you had never imagined he could make you feel like this – The lavish, attention with which he was now devouring you, your bared slit. Matt's mouth worked your pussy, like singing a hymn, like an apostle breaking his fast – a man of singular focus. Possessed by the scent of your arousal, the taste of your slick on his tongue as he continued to work you.
It was enough to make you infatuated. Obsessed with the devil you longed to know.
The feel of him was like the slow drip and drizzle of honey, the snap of cinnamon – warm, sweet, and tingling. Swirling tongue and sickly heat.
"Come on, devil, give it to me bad," you purred, teasing the man beneath you with a buck of your hips, reveling in the sensation and rolling them up, seeking the friction you craved, your hands still in his hair. Losing yourself in the repetitive feel of heady, sweet attentions of his tongue.
A particularly clever lick-and-suck tore a moan from your throat, prompting Matt to part from you, to pause the moment to allow himself to savor all of his senses – his own chest heaving and cheeks flushed with the attention he had wrought on you.
“I’ll give it to you, sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to your thigh, chasing it with a nip of teeth. “Only if you’ll be sweet.”
You rolled your eyes, head lolling against the feathery plush of the Devil – Matthew’s – pillow, “I said I would, didn’t I?” You puffed, exasperation coloring your voice, rolling your hips again.
You made to tug Matthew up to you, urging his hips with the legs you had wrapped around him, trying to tug him with willing arms and wanton fingertips.
It punched the air from your lungs when Matthew struck – like a coiled viper wrapping its body around its prey – warm, dangerously snug, as he rolled his body up and over yours, gripping your wrists in one of his firm hands, bringing them up and over your head, rendering you helpless to him.
And the feel of him above you, heated and firm, a wall of muscle leaving you immobile beneath him – reciprocal to him, as he relished in your softness, your pliance. Like a curving crescent moon bends for the sky.
“Close your eyes, kitten,” he purred, his lips gracing the shell of your ear, a tempest rumbling in his chest, urging its way through his voice.
And you had no choice to obey.
Allowing your eyelids to flutter shut as you acquiesced to your other senses overtaking you, the silken feel of one of Matthew’s – was it a tie? Something he’d wear to court? – traipsing over the bare skin of your arms. Up, up, up as it closed around the wrists still held over your head. Matthew was tying you to his headboard. And you were letting him.
You were sure Matt didn't mind. You could just imagine the sharp half-grin that quirked onto his face at the feel of you tied to his bed, his skin beneath yours. His smile was cold, quick, assured. Devilish.
You had accepted earlier in the night that you would never truly know all of Matt Murdock. Whether he was the Devil, or not. That there were parts of his personhood he wouldn't deign to share. Those things weren't for you, after all. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to care at this moment, when he shared what was simultaneously everything and enough, as he held you on the edge after licking your pussy like a man starved, his hardness pressing to your center through his boxers as he loomed over you now.
The rasp of his hands trailing up the smooth skin of your torso sang beneath his palms; the faintest of whispers to you, but a chorus of amorous intention to Matt Murdock's perfect ears.
"Tell me everything you feel," Matt whispered, snugly affixing the knot to your wrists, pressing a kiss to the tender skin there and affirming they weren’t bound too tightly.
“And what do you feel Matt?" you couldn't resist the urge to sass back as you indulged in the sight of your now-paramour peeling his boxers from his body, taking his length into his own hand and stroking himself to the sight of you tied to his bed.
"I feel … Everything. But I wanna hear it from you,” Matt took your sass as acquiescence, allowing his free hand to rove the planes and curves of your stomach and waist, to drag themselves through the wetness gathered at your center –retreating with your slick on his fingers. “I won't give you what you want until you tell me what I want to know," he paused, allowing your eyes to linger on him before he sucked his own finger into his full lips to taste you once more.
“You’re like honey, honey.”
Your residual whimper at the sinful sight before you was something Matt was sure he would re-play in his mind over and over on the nights he had trouble sleeping – he had a lot of those.
“I’ll tell you, baby,” you assured. “Please, just fuck me.”
And who was Matt to refuse such a polite request? Your legs spread for him, the crotch of your panties tugged to the side, the sound of your heaving chest, your blood thrumming beneath your veins, heated and singing for him. Of your wrists straining against his necktie – how much more could a man take?
Matt took himself into his hand once more, spreading the glistening lips of your pussy and guiding himself into your heat, rolling his hips to allow himself to be seated fully inside of your tightness – a broken groan shattering its way through his throat, his lashes fluttering.
You whimpered at the fullness of him inside of you.
“You feel…,” Matt trailed off, his breath hitching, as you rolled your hips to meet his, cunning and keyed.
“Like heaven?” You teased, voice full of mirth, and perhaps a bit of pride at rendering the man above you speechless.
“That’s sacrilegious,” Matt breathed, as he began to thrust into you in earnest.
“What’s a little light sacrilege between sinners, Devil?” You hiccupped, your wrists straining as you urged to grasp any part of the man above you, the drag of him inside of you more than you could bear, the heat between the two of you, the tingling pleasure inside of you, building – ever-building…
“Yeah?” Matt breathed, “You want me to make you see God?”
“Forget it.” You would have been embarrassed at the keening whine that Matt’s attentions were wringing from you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give any semblance of a damn, so long as he kept doing that. “Fuuuuuck,” you whined, “who wants that when I have the devil in my bed?"
"You like that," Matt murmured in your ear, as he thrummed at your clit in time with his trusts.
It wasn't a question.
Mesmerized, stupefied, you stuttered a cracked, “Y-yes.” You tugged your wrists against where they’re tied to the bed, your senses leaving you as you longed to touch him, to push, to give back to him as good as you were getting. You weren’t used to being in the passenger seat.
"You like that I'm bad, as long as I'm good to you, that how it works?" Matt crooned.
“Fuck, Matt,” you whined, “stop toying with me and make me come,” you pleaded.
“Yeah?” he parroted, “You mean like you toy with me? Can you be a good girl? You're supposed to tell me what you feel." Clearly referencing the way you were still straining your wrists at your bonds, raising an eyebrow at your defiance. Nevertheless, he would acquiesce.
Matt’s thumb was circling your clit in time with his thrusts before breaking from you, skating his heated palm up your body to your heaving tits, pinching your nipple as he continued to fuck you toward your peak.
“Mhmm,” you whined, your head tilting back, pressed into Matt’s pillows. Pressed into his sheets – the scent of you, the essence of you, embedding itself there – certain, Matt thought, to haunt him for many nights after this one.
"You feel …" your breath hitched at the ferocity of his thrusts, doing your best to keep your voice even, the edge of a whine skirting it. Though you were sure Matt could tell. "You feel so good, baby. You're so good. I l-love the way your cock feels inside of me. M-make me come, Matty, please?"
And who was he to refuse such a request? Your praises flooded Matt's ears, prickling in his blood, as he turned his attention back to your clit then, reveling in the feel of you tightening around him as he fucked you to your approaching climax.
“C’mon, kitten,” he urged, “c’mon then,” relinquishing your hip from his bruising grip, he brought his hand up, gripping your throat to feel the reverberation of your release through the song of your skin, melting into his. The clever fingers of his other hand stroking your clit as you shattered beneath him, your release soaking his cock, your pussy like a vice around him as you worked your way through the blinding heat of your orgasm. Matthew’s release following at the overwhelming sensation of you, the wet heat of constricting his every sense as he allowed himself to let go. Discipline melding to desire as he filled you. Fucking himself into you through his own orgasm.
“Whoa,” you exhaled, as Matthew allowed himself to slump over you as his pulsing release gently subsided, the flutter of your lashes along his skin as he shuffled his now heavy and tired arms up to release you from his headboard.
He rolled to the side of you, skin sliding against satin sheets as he pulled you to him.
“And to think,” you murmured, massaging the skin of your wrists and pressing a kiss to Matthew’s temple, settling in beside him, “we could have been doing that the entire time.
He hmm’d into your skin in agreement, nuzzling your neck with his nose, pressing a kiss to the tender skin beneath your ear.
“Getting here was fun,” he acquiesced, allowing you to feel the curve of his smiling lips against the skin of your neck. "There's a fine line between –"
"Don't you dare say 'love and hate,'" you groaned.
Matthew smiled again, rolling to press his lips to yours in a teasing kiss.
"I was going to say 'between fucking and fighting,' but if you love me…"
"Shut up," you shoved his shoulder, knowing he could appreciate a little extra force behind your touch. "I hate you, Matthew."
He stilled, and you worried for the briefest moment that you had gone too far. You didn't actually hate him, after all. Surely, he had to know that…
"Say it again," his hands cupped your face gently as his mossy eyes glimmered in the low light of his room. "My name, sweetheart. Say it again?"
"Matthew," you sighed, trailing your hands through his hair, pleased with the silken feel of his strands between delicate fingers, as though he was always meant to be touched by you. You eased up to press a kiss to his lips. "Mystifying, magnificent, magnanimous Matthew."
He sighed in contentment, before quirking his lips at you, tilting his head into your touch, "And what does that make you?"
"Murderous," you quipped, flashing a toothy grin that he could hear through the falling darkness in his bedroom, through the heated drip in your voice. "And what'll you do about it, devil-boy?"
“You know I’ll catch you,” he breathed, allowing himself to ease beside you, the heavy weight of his limbs, of the feeling of you, soothing him. Your collective easy breathing allowing him to begin to lull…
The last thing Matthew heard was your sardonic singsong, “Promises, promises…” toying in his ears as he drifted off to sleep, the weighted heat of you in his arms – real, full, and flush.
And when Matt awoke, in the early hours of the morning, to the frigid, crisp smell of fresh-fallen snow, he felt it, singing in his nose through the glass of the windows in his apartment. Untouched, unblemished. And he felt – emptiness. His apartment was devoid of heat, of pulse – other than his own. As Matt realized that you had gone sometime in the night. The fresh-fallen snow covering your tracks from the fire escape as you had slipped away. Through his fingers, yet again.
He scrubbed his face with his hand, his phone pinging with a notification as he urged his software to read the text,
“See you real soon, Devil. Next time I tie you up.”
Oh, Foggy was never going to believe this.
--
tagging: @withahappyrefrain @drew-garfi @p3mybeloved @spidervee @maxmayfield @xbamboowishesx @wicked-blathers @jadore-andor @mrshipsmcgee @abibliophobiaa @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @mortwig @squiddtheekidd @lilacvine @liz-allyn @renaroo123 @blooming-violets @inklore @clints-lucky-arrow @lucy-sky @flightlessangelwings @vaxxildan @ouralcohol @thatredheadwriter @moonlight-prose @zombieaurora @andrewrussgarfield @aphrogeneias @luxuryberzatto @ifimayhaveaword @phoenixhalliwell @wvndasmaximoff @deskofninak @levylovegood @holyheadharpies99 @papaya-047 @alexxavicry
#matt murdock x reader#my writing#only smile in the dark#matt murdock#charlie cox#matt murdock x you#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil smut#matt murdock smut#marvel fic#daredevil fic#matt murdock x fem!reader
900 notes
·
View notes
Note
I gotta come back with more 2000s jeff
Maybe this being more of a jeff being protective at first then it shifting to reader being protective
More stone cold and hhh just being menaces maybe them threatening reader with a metal chair and jeff getting super upset because yk and him getting hit with it and reader like leaping in you could have either reader hitting hhh, stone cold or Stephanie with a chair i really like the idea of Stephanie being used as a threat against hhh (sorry if this is rambly😭😭)
LITTLE DEVIL
(sort of a continuation to NO THREATS SIMPLY PROMISES, can be read alone.)
“I don’t think you should go out tonight.” Jeff’s voice rang through the small locker room designated to Team Xtreme, clearly full of anxiety. After last Raw’s incident, Triple H had been the first segment of the night, walking into the ring with a metal chair and threatening Y/N after their attack on Stephanie.
“What? Why?” Y/N knew why, but they also knew that they could hold their own.
“Y’know why, N/N. I don’t want you getting hurt, ‘specially with all of the stuff they were just talkin’ about! It would just be better for all of us.” Triple H, with a little help from Stephanie- had said some pretty gnarly stuff, and they didn’t want the rematch to be messed up, so Y/N agreed, but only if they were allowed to sit in the gorilla and watch from there.
“Don’t let em’ get to you, alright? Have a good match Jeffro, I’ll be waiting for ya right here. You guys too!” They stood in the gorilla as the Hardys’ music was cued, listening to the crowd cheer them on. The match started quickly, Triple H getting a brutal upper hand over Jeff, catching him off guard with hard fists. Jeff was finally able to get a hit in on Triple H and almost made a tag to Matt, but his brothers feet were swept away by Stone Cold along with Stephanie dragging Lita down to the concrete floor.
Now, with the ref trying to get the outside of the ring under control, Triple H took it to his advantage, and dove under the ropes, making an attempt to grab a chair from underneath the ring opposite of the side the rest of his teammates were at. Then their music cut, and out walked Y/N with a chair of their own, eyes trained on Hunter. Jeff somewhat recovered and now standing, hidden by the announce table, Stone Cold and Matt had moved to another side of the concrete floor, but Lita and Stephanie were still front and center, right where the ramp ended.
Why hurt what hurt your love when you can hurt theirs?
Hunter watched as Y/N’s eyes moved from his to Stephanie, then over to Jeff. He watched the smirk form on their face, and he watched as Lita moved out of the way. His eyes went wide and tried to rush forward, but Jeff had grabbed him from behind. He watched as Y/N rose the chair above their head, eyes still watching him, mouth still placed in a malicious grin. He watched the chair slam down his wife's back, he watched it bounce back up and hit her again. He watched as Y/N’s smile grew wider at her cries of pain much like on Monday night.
“When I said I would kill if you touched him again, I meant it.” The words were roughly whispered across the ring, barely audible.
Stone Cold had left long ago, truly not caring at all for the dramatics of HHH and Stephanie so with no one else to fight, Matt and Jeff beat Triple H into a puddle next to the ringside announcers, the sound of the metal chair against Stephanie's back still ricocheting throughout the arena.
When it was made obvious Hunter was unable to get up, the original three began to walk backstage, but were stopped at the sight of Y/N, a rabid look on their face, metal chair still in hand and swinging at the back of Stephanie. Matt and Lita continued up the ramp knowing it was a problem for Jeff to deal with.
They were stopped mid-swing, Jeff gripping at their forearm in an attempt to contain them. It did little, Y/N squirming in his grip in hope to continue their on slaughter. Seeing his brothers struggle, Matt turned back and grabbed their chair from their hands before continuing on with Lita.
Jeff acting as a tether to reality brought Y/N back from their unconsciousness vexation with his sweet, calming words and without even realizing it, they had made it backstage, to the gorilla once again.
“I told her I would do it. Had to…had to keep to my word.” They spoke in between broken breathes, an attack on Stephanie once again bringing them exhaustion and placing them into Jeff’s arms.
“I know, Y/N, I know. Wasn’t your fault this time, they shouldn’t have done all that.” His words were meant to comfort but only caused them to pull away from his chest, eyebrows furrowed.
“This time?” Y/N’s voice filled with fake anger, they could never truly be angry at him. A smile filled in on their face as they watched the poor boy try to stutter an excuse out until he realized they had been joking, and he pulled them back against him, laughter vibrating from his chest and spreading into theirs.
“You’re being a little menace this week, ain’t you? Guess I can’t complain, at least I ain’t the one bein’ choked. C’mon little devil, lets get you home before you try to attack someone else. Who’s it gonna be next time, Trish?”
“Hey! I love Trish, I’d never do that to her!”
“You weren’t too fond of her when we had to do that love thing.”
“That’s- that’s different. That doesn’t count.” Now it was their turn to stutter, flustered at the reminder of just how jealous they had been when Trish and Jeff were forced to do a love story together. Their embarrassment earned a kiss to the head from Jeff and a small laugh.
“M’sure it is.”
This took way 2 long and is kinda bad but i wanted to post somethin so whatev i guess
Watching Monday night raw got me inspired got to see my man Cody right away this time didn’t have to wait three goddamn hours
#jeff hardy#LIV WRITES;*!#2000's jeff hardy#jeff hardy x reader#jeff hardy imagine#smackdown#friday night smackdown#wwe smackdown#wwe#matt hardy#wwf
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok, hear me out: Good Omens Human AU: WWE professional wrestling.
Has anyone done this yet? Ok, here is my stream of consciousness:
I imagine Crowley to be the high flying, heartbreaking, stunt type character. Like a Jeff or Matt Hardy, or a Shaun Michaels. He’d be the young newcomer breaking out into the business, gaining massive popularity, adored by the fans and potentially the new face of the business.
Aziraphale would be a more established, professional, and experienced performer. He’d been old school, like a pure striker, but also maybe slightly flamboyant like a Ric Flair or Dusty Rhodes. He’d be initially skeptical of Crowley’s character and disapprove of the suggested changes to the business. He doesn’t want to move with the times and stuck in his golden era ways.
Plot points:
Enemy to lovers - Aziraphale would be annoyed with the idea of Crowley being “the new guy” not playing by the rules, but over time comes to appreciate what he can bring to the business and also admire his immense talent. Crowley would be annoyed with an “old” fuddy duddy unwilling to move with the times or diversify for the sake of the business, but comes to appreciate Aziraphale’s experience and encouragement and what he can learn from him.
Road to Wrestlemania - obviously they’d have to face off in the main event as their characters would continue to be sworn enemies.
Secret relationship - this would develop and deepen over time, and they would be terrified of it being revealed and breaking kayfabe. How could they possibly overcome the media and scrutiny. Possible themes of homophobia could be explored.
Alliances - Crowley would probably be part of some sort of team dynamic involving Beelzebub and maybe Shax and Dagon. Some kind of demonic themed characters.
Overcoming injury - Crowley might suffer a possible career ending injury, either sustained through interference from another jealous wrestler (Gabriel or Hastur?), or protecting Aziraphale from a dangerous move, or from Aziraphale failing to perform a choreographed stunt correctly. Each possibility would lead the subtext of the story in three different directions so not sure which would be best?
Bittersweet ending? - I imagine that either they would get to maintain their relationship but one or both their careers would end. Or they would keep their careers in tact but the relationship would end.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. Am I insane? (Probably)
(Was inspired because Wrestlemania was on the weekend and I apparently cannot separate Good Omens from any other aspect of my life now 🤣)
#good omens#good omens human au#good omens au#wrestling#wwe wrestling#wwe wrestlemania#wrestlemania#crowley#aziraphale#crowley and aziraphale#ineffable husbands#secret lovers#enemy to lovers#crowley x arizaphale#aziracrow#i can dream can’t i?#what have i started?#why does my brain work like this#good omens wrestling#good omens fan fiction#fanfiction
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
what’s up my loves please follow my Wattpad feel free to request smut fluff, angst, whatever it is
Go crazy send as many requests as possible and go into the most detail
feel free to message me on Wattpad or request on here
I only have Riverdale imagines up right now, but as soon as I start getting more requests, all kinds of stories will be up
If you guys want me to post on here as well, let me know because I will happily do that
I mostly only write x reader
I can write like multiple characters, as long as there’s like an X reader involved
the main fandoms that I write for :
Criminal mind
Bones
Riverdale
Grey’s Anatomy
Supernatural
The vampire diaries
The originals
Legacies
Shameless 
Scream (the slasher movie)
Teen Wolf
Outer Banks
Riverdale
The 100
13 reasons why
Chilling adventures of Sabrina
Surviving summer
Cobra Kai
Henry danger
Matt and Chris sturniolo
Sam Golbach
Colby Brock
Nate hardy 
If there’s a different TV show that you want me to write for or a different character than one of the actors from one of these shows have played

#kol mikaelson imagine#sub matt sturniolo smut#rafe cameron fluff#aaron hotchner smut#outer banks smut#cam!boys smut#cobra kai smut#ethan landry smut#sub spencer reid smut#sub klaus mikaelson smut#sub kol mikaelson smut#sub mike schmidt#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson smut#henry danger x reader#henry hart x reader#rafe smut#chase davenport smut#eli moskowitz smut#sam golbach smut#spencer reid smut#sub boy smut#sub boys smut#sub ethan landry smut#smut#jjk smut#sturniolo smut
19 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
thedecorcirclemohali
Untitled
feralbrat
I'll fight ya
lazycocktails
Lazy Cocktails & Co.
biaaniwasawasa
Hector Lavoe, Willie Colón & Porfi Baloa.
imagineredwood
Sons of Anarchy and Mayans MC Fanfiction