Chapter 1: Under Pressure
Summary:
“If you could do it yourself, you would’ve already done it. You wouldn’t still be here 4 hours later, wallowing in your misery.” Stevie gives Rhea a look. “Just let me help you. I’ll lock the door. No one has to know. Okay?"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
If there was one person Rhea Ripley despised above all others, it was Stevie Turner. The animosity between the two young women burned with an intensity that mystified everyone around them. The origins of their bitter feud remained seemingly a well-guarded secret, buried beneath layers of resentment and hostility.
Their clashes were more than just a clash of personalities; it was a collision of two opposing forces. Each attempt at a conversation inevitably spiralled into a heated exchange, with verbal jabs and cutting remarks becoming the norm. The air between them crackled with tension, a constant struggle to assert dominance, to outshine the other.
The rivalry took on a larger canvas when Stevie aligned herself with Outright, a team formed by Cody Rhodes with a single-minded goal: to dismantle Judgement Day. Stevie, alongside Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens, intensified the conflict between the two factions. Outright and Judgement Day were like oil and water, never meant to mix, and their clashes became legendary within the wrestling circuit.
In the aftermath of an intensely gruelling match, Rhea found herself alone in the locker room, the lingering echoes of the event reverberating in the air. With the passage of time, she anticipated having the space to herself, a moment of respite from the chaos. However, as luck would have it, the universe chose that precise moment for Stevie to stride in.
A smirk played on Stevie's lips as she initiated one of her trademark snide comments, complete with the irritating nickname she persistently used for Rhea. "Oh hey, princess, still here I see—" Her words trailed off abruptly as Stevie's gaze fell upon Rhea's condition, forcing an unexpected pause.
Rhea looked, for lack of a better term, awful. Her encounter with Charlotte Flair had been nothing short of a disaster. Bruised and bloodied, the toll of the match was painfully evident on her. However, it wasn't just the physical wounds that marred her; the emotional exhaustion was perhaps the most profound. The shame stemming from the public defeat, witnessed by thousands in attendance, hung over her like a heavy cloud.
Rhea’s voice, a mere whisper of its usual strength, broke the heavy silence. "What?" It was the only word she managed, the pain rendering her incapable of conjuring an insult at her usual standards. Gathering what remained of her resolve, she added, "What are you still doing here, Stevie? Shouldn't you be kissing Cody's ass?"
“Jesus princess, ‘the fuck happened?” stevie asked, looking down to where Rhea was sitting. There seemed to be something behind Stevie’s eyes that Rhea didn’t recognize.
Before answering, Rhea slowly wiped away some blood that was flowing from one of the cuts on her face. "What? You were watching the match, Stevie. You saw what happened!" Rhea was seething with rage. "Are you just here to mock me about it?" As Stevie looked on, Rhea's eyes narrowed. If there was one person she hated more than anyone else... it was her. She hated everything about her... her voice... her face... even her name just got on her nerves. "Why don't you just leave?
"I didn't come here to mock you. I didn't know you were here," Stevie stated, her voice surprisingly lacking its usual sharpness. "I just came here to change," she explained, gesturing toward her ring gear—the pink neon crop top and shorts that practically glowed with their vibrant colour. Stepping closer, she asked, "Have you been to medical?"
"No. I'm fine." Rhea's swift and unwavering response should have clearly indicated to Stevie that she was concealing the truth. Yet, Rhea's irritation at being caught in such a vulnerable state momentarily clouded her judgment. Stevie's approach, marked by the smallest gestures, caught Rhea's attention, prompting an immediate rise in defences. "Are you trying to help me?"
"You're bleeding," Stevie said, her voice adopting an unexpected gentleness, softer than Rhea had ever heard. "I have a first aid kit in my locker. If you let me, I can..." Stevie paused, searching for the right word. "Patch you up," she said.
"I can do it myself." Rhea's voice was still harsh and cold.
“If you could do it yourself, you would’ve already done it. You wouldn’t still be here 4 hours later, wallowing in your misery.” Stevie gives Rhea a look. “Just let me help you. I’ll lock the door. No one has to know. Okay?”
Rhea was surprised by Stevie's soft tone. Stevie was never soft with anyone. Yet, there she was... offering to help Rhea. The combination of Stevie's gentle approach mixed with her usual bluntness felt strangely comforting. After a moment of consideration, Rhea sighed. "Okay... fine. Whatever." As much as she hated Stevie, she guessed she could use some help if even her rival offered to help her. As Stevie went to get her first aid kit, Rhea just stood there. "Just tell me you're not recording this for Outright's TikTok or something," she said with her usual tone.
Stevie chuckled as she locked the door to the dressing room and fetched her first aid kit. “No, Cody won’t give me the password to the page,” she said, her tone slightly playful. The slight smile told Rhea stevie was just kidding, trying to ease the uncomfortable energy growing between them from the unusual moment of cease-fire.
Rhea couldn't help but share a chuckle with Stevie. Remarkably, Stevie's tone took on an unusually playful quality. "Cody would hold the password hostage," Rhea added, musing with a lighthearted touch. As Stevie attended to Rhea's wounds, an unexpected fascination gripped Rhea. It was the first time she truly noticed how remarkably soft Stevie's hands were. How gentle her touch was. A subtle blush of embarrassment tinged her cheeks, prompting her to look away while standing there in silent admiration. "Stevie... I have to ask you something," Rhea said, her tone shifting into a more serious register.
"What?" Stevie asked, her gentle touch cleaning the blood from the long, thin, jagged cuts on Rhea's face. The angry red lines stretched across Rhea’s cheeks, dangerously close to Rhea’s eyes at some points.
"Why are you doing this... helping me... and treating me... like a person?" There was a genuine quality to Rhea's tone, revealing a struggle to express gratitude. "I just don't understand. You and Outright hate Judgment Day." Puzzlement lingered in her words. Despite the difficulties, Stevie revealed a side Rhea had never witnessed before.
“I don’t know,” Stevie said, nonchalantly shrugging as she resumed cleaning the cuts on Rhea’s face. “you just look so pathetic I couldn’t help it,” she added, jokingly, still attempting to lighten the mood with their customary banter. “For real, though, I just know what happened.” Stevie paused, her expression turning serious once again. “She was wearing her engagement ring, wasn’t she?” she asked about Rhea’s fight with Charlotte. “That’s what the cuts are from. The ring.”
As Stevie meticulously attended to the cuts on Rhea's face, Rhea unexpectedly flinched. The pain exceeded her expectations, prompting a quiet hiss of pain from Rhea as she nodded subtly. "Yeah... it was... it was." Her brows furrowed while absorbing Stevie's words, revealing a blend of surprise and admiration. "Stevie... how do you know that?" Genuine curiosity marked Rhea's expression.
“She had it on during my match with her last week. Cut my face up like a fucking razor blade, and then she blamed it on her nails when the ref tried to call her out. And, of course, they had to believe her.” Stevie rolled her eyes. “She’s a cheat, but no one cares because she has that whole innocent good girl schtick.” Stevie sighed, completing the cleaning of the cuts. “They aren’t deep, so you should be fine tomorrow,” she assured as she stowed her first aid kit back in her locker.
Rhea couldn't suppress a smirk as Stevie passionately described her feelings towards Charlotte. The shared disdain for Charlotte was evident, and Rhea nodded in agreement. Though always suspicious of Charlotte, Rhea had never been able to prove intentional ring-related injuries. The acknowledgment brought a strange mix of satisfaction and relief even from Stevie. As Stevie finished tending to her wounds, Rhea finally broke the silence between them. "Stevie... thank you. For the help." Her words held sincerity as she stared at her rival. For the first time, an unspoken understanding seemed to bridge the gap between them.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll return the favour at some point.” Stevie chuckled as she stood. “Now, we can forget this happened and hate each other again tomorrow.” She grabbed her bag, and headed to the door. “Feel better *princess*” stevie said with a small smirk, using the nickname one last time before she left the locker room. And although Rhea now had the alone time she had been craving, something about how stevie had been kind for the first time made Rhea curious to see more of what was under stevie’s shell.
Notes:
For those of you skimming for the spicy scenes, here are the chapter numbers. Enjoy my fellow freaks ;)
Chapter 9: Solo Rhea
Chapter 18: Dom Rhea + edging.
Chapter 24: Sub Rhea + overstimulation.
Chapter 30: Dom Rhea + nearly caught.
Chapter 33: Dom Rhea + strap
Chapter 2: Too Much Love Will Kill You
Summary:
"Some dumb ass video about how he's upping Outright's training schedule." Damian said, rolling his eyes and chuckling "Finn's treating it like it's the fucking Da Vinci Code. Dude's been on his phone for an hour watching the video frame by frame to try and find their weaknesses or something."
Chapter Text
A week had slipped by in an uneasy silence between Rhea and Stevie, a week since Rhea's rare display of vulnerability. As tonight's Monday Night Raw was being prepared to begin, Rhea steeled herself for the anticipated ridicule, convinced that Stevie had spread the tale of her uncharacteristic moment. Yet, as Rhea stepped into the arena, a surprising revelation awaited her. The expected mockery and peculiar glances were absent. Instead, it was just a typical night; a hush draped the halls as Rhea walked in. Everyone navigated around Rhea, adhering to the customary avoidance dance, steering clear of the potential storm of her wrath. Everyone knew to leave Rhea alone, and she liked it that way.
"Did you see what Cody posted?" Finn said in a way of greeting the moment Rhea stepped into Judgement Day's green room. He was looking at his phone as always, cyberstalking all of Outright's members to try and get just something they could use against them, some shred of advantage. "Oh, hi, Finn. I'm doing great, thanks for asking. How are you doing?'" Rhea asked sarcastically, chuckling as Finn skipped over the pleasantries as usual.
"Yeah, yeah, cut it out. I don't need your sass." Finn gave Rhea an unimpressed look like he always did when she messed with him. "Now, did you see what he posted or not, Rhea?" Finn asked.
"No, I didn't see what Cody posted. Why would I've? I don't follow any of them." Rhea asked. She put her stuff down beside Damian's, fist-bumping him as she did. "what does it say?" She turned her attention towards Finn's phone, curious to see what Outright might have devised as the latest attempt at getting under Judgement Day's skin. The animosity between the two groups grew with each encounter, to the point where there seemed to be no hope of a truce.
"Some dumb ass video about how he's upping Outright's training schedule." Damian said, rolling his eyes and chuckling "Finn's treating it like it's the fucking Da Vinci Code. Dude's been on his phone for an hour watching the video frame by frame to try and find their weaknesses or something."
"You still do that shit, Finn?" Dominik asked with a chuckle.
"Oi, this ain't make fun of Finn day, is it? I don't ask for your comments, so keep it to yourselves," Finn asked, shaking his head but trying not to smile. The teasing and comments from the rest of the team nearly made him laugh.
Rhea looked at Finn's phone, seeing the video of Cody talking about Outright's new training regime. The video cuts to clips of Stevie and the rest of them working out. "She's so pathetic," Rhea said. Her disdain for Stevie and Outright was obvious. Still, this video caught her attention. Her curiosity grew. "What sort of thing does the video show?" She was intrigued. "Are they showing anything... unusual?" Her tone was more curious than angry as she looked back toward Finn's phone.
"Not really." Finn sighed. "Just work out stuff. They upped their weight lifting, cardio, and sparring. All their usual things. The only new thing they added was ice baths." Finn scrolled through Cody's posts.
"That's so that they have an excuse to post themselves half-naked, Stevie and her selfies. Half fucking naked like we all want to see her tits," Dominik cut in, making Damian and Finn laugh.
Rhea laughed along with Dominik's crude comments. It made sense, of course. But she wouldn't put it past Stevie's vanity either way. It was true. Stevie had gotten a bit more bold with her posts. It seemed she was using her body as a way to grab attention. And judging by the comments on her Instagram, it was working. "Stevie's just an attention seeker," Rhea said. The disdain in her tone was very apparent. Still, the video didn't seem like anything exceptional. "What's the point in stalking them all though?" Rhea questioned. "He's probably just hoping they slip up and drop a hint on their next move," she answered her own question. Outright was more than a mere annoyance; they were a puzzle that Judgement Day couldn't solve. And if there was one thing that pissed every member of the judgment day off, it was people they couldn't figure out. People who made moves they didn't understand. And Outright was full of those people.
"You're in a match with her tonight, right?" Damian asked.
"We don't just have a match. It's the main event. I'm the main event." She looked at Finn's phone and the pictures he was scrolling through on Stevie's page. There was something about how Stevie was posing in those pictures. Her outfits. Her body. Something. Whatever that something was that piqued Rhea's interest just made her want to hate stevie more. But as much as she hated Stevie, she couldn't help but watch her every move. She just had to know if that other side of Stevie, the gentle side that had helped her that night, was real or simply an act to try and get Rhea to trust her.
"Then go get ready. We'll wait for you by the stage door." Damian said, watching Rhea get her gear to head to the women's locker room. "And try not to kill stevie before the match," he said, joking around with Rhea.
Rhea laughed. "I'll do my best, but no promises," she joked back as she left the green room to head to the women's locker room. As much as she hated to admit it, a small part wanted to see that side of stevie again. A small part of Rhea wanted to joke with stevie like she did that night, their usual bickering turning into a banter that Rhea wasn't used to. But of course, Rhea would never tell stevie that. She just kept telling herself she hated stevie. Stevie was the enemy. Stevie was a part of Outright. Stevie was dumb, smug, and annoying.
Stevie was gentle, funny, and pretty. She helped you, Rhea. She saw you weak and didn't tell anyone about it. She could be your friend. Stevie could be good. Rhea could hear the tiny voice in her head that she usually ignored. The side of Rhea she's worked so hard to kill. The side that always got Rhea hurt and betrayed. The side of Rhea that trusted people.
No, pull yourself together, Rhea thought, crushing the part of her that wanted to trust stevie. This wasn't a matter of getting new friends. This was a matter of winning and losing. People betray you, Rhea, people hurt you. And stevie is one of those people. You hate stevie, and she hates you. It will always be like that.
Chapter 3: Friends Will Be Friends
Summary:
"It's unprofessional to show up late. Early is on time, on-time is late-"
"And late is fired," Stevie finished Cody's well-worn line, having heard it countless times before. It was one of Cody's many 'pearls of wisdom.'
Chapter Text
"Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence," Sami quipped with a playful glint of mock disappointment in his eyes.
"Where have you been, Stevie? We've been worried sick!" Kevin chimed in, adopting the role of a concerned mother hen. The tag team partners engaged in their usual banter, teasing Stevie with an air of camaraderie. Outright operated as a tight-knit family, a dynamic they had maintained over time. Stevie, occupying the role of the youngest member, found herself embraced as their honorary little sister. Sami and Kevin, in their usual playful manner, often teased and joked with her, but Stevie held her ground with ease.
Stevie chuckled. "I know. A whopping 5 minutes late. I'm a real rebel." She played along with the banter. With a quick retort to Kevin, she quipped, "Too bad I was occupied with your mom this morning," eliciting his laughter. "Could've been on time if she didn't insist on that third round." Her attire mirrored her signature style: baggy jeans, an oversized tie-dye tee, a dark red zip-up hoodie, and the ubiquitous sneakers accompanying her every step. Clutched in her hand was always a can of Monster energy—her unmistakable Stevie uniform.
"You are late, though," Cody's voice cut through the laughter from where he lounged on the couch in their green room. In his role as the group leader, Cody assumed the mantle of responsibility. His constant endeavour was to drive the collective improvement of the team, often manifesting as efforts to elevate Stevie's skills. Acknowledged as a skilled fighter, Cody maintained that because she was only 24, her youth and inexperience were hurdles to mature adulthood. Unbeknownst to him, Stevie grappled silently with the subtle frustration of being perceived as a child. But she respected him too much to say that.
He does that because, let's face it, you act like a child, stevie. That's why he always has to critique you. If you weren't a fuck up, you wouldn't have to hear all about everything you did wrong. But you are a screw-up. You are a child. Stevie tried to ignore the harsh words in her mind, biting the inside of her cheek to block out the insults from her mind.
"It's unprofessional to show up late. Early is on time, on-time is late-"
"And late is fired," Stevie finished Cody's well-worn line, having heard it countless times before. It was one of Cody's many 'pearls of wisdom.' "I know, Cody. I'm trying. I just had a rough morning."
"Late night?" Cody inquired, giving her a disapproving look. He hoped she had adhered to the early bedtime rule they all were supposed to follow, but he was well aware of Stevie's battle with insomnia and anxiety. He acknowledged it, but the depth of understanding she desired eluded him.
But it's not his fault, stevie, he's never experienced it, it's not his fault. He's just trying to help you. She reminded herself.
"Nope," she lied, immersing herself in the task of unpacking her wrestling gear and makeup. The diversion served two purposes: avoiding eye contact with Cody and concealing the visible struggle caused by her escalating anxiety.
Kevin coughed. "bullshit," he said with the cough.
"Stevie," Cody sighed, rubbing his forehead. "We've discussed your sleep schedule," he added in a tone akin to a disappointed parent.
Look at you. Even sleeping is beyond your capabilities. Is there anything you're not screwing up? What a disappointment.
Stevie shot Kevin a dirty look for spilling the beans. Kevin, unfazed, returned the look with a smirk of his own. "I wasn't up that late. I just needed to let off some steam-" she attempted to explain, desperately avoiding another one of Cody's emotionally charged lectures. Despite her deep respect for him and her love for the team, she wasn't in a suitable emotional space to endure another lengthy discussion about her feelings, especially with those who struggled to comprehend them.
"She was in the gym until 4 in the morning, running on the treadmill like she was on the lam," Sami chimed in, refusing to let Stevie downplay the stress of the previous night. "Then she almost brawled with some guy who accused her of 'hogging the weights.'"
"Guys," she glared at Kevin and Sami, "you said you wouldn't say anything. And that guy deserved it. He was being such an ass. Who needs the exact weights I was using at midnight? There was no one there, and there are a million other weights to choose from."
"Stevie, a team that hides things from each other-"
"Is a team that loses," Stevie concluded Cody's sentence once again, having heard this mantra countless times since joining Outright. "It felt like my mind was racing a million miles a second."
"Next time you feel that way, calm down and get some rest. You can't win championships if you're burning the midnight oil and getting into altercations every other second," Cody advised. "Can you do that for me?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking down at her with a soft smile.
Stevie bit the inside of her cheek again and nodded. Of course, Cody didn't understand that the advice 'calm down' was useless.
Prove to him how utterly worthless that pathetic advice was. He's clueless about you and clueless about your emotions. How dare he attempt to dictate how you should live your life? Fuck him.
He didn't know what she was experiencing, so getting mad was no point. The pain from her teeth digging Into the flesh inside her cheek helped remind her of that. "Okay, I will." She said, "I gotta prepare for my match now," grabbing her gear and makeup bag to head to the women's locker room.
"Good." Cody said, smiling now, "and remember-"
"-You only really lose when you give up trying," Stevie, Sami, and Kevin said unison, finishing Cody's sentence. All three of them are so used to Cody's saying. "We know"
Chapter 4: Hammer to Fall
Summary:
"Sweetie," Rhea said back, using her teasing nickname of her own for Stevie, her sly smile carrying a hint of venom. "You gonna actually finish the drink today?" Rhea inquired as she got ready, the smug curve of her smirk amplifying Stevie's irritation.
Chapter Text
As Stevie entered the locker room and caught sight of Rhea, memories of their last encounter flooded her mind—the impulsive softness, the unexpected help extended to Rhea despite the undercurrent of mutual dislike.
You can't even hate someone right without trying to help them. How is that even possible? It's called a rivalry for a reason, stevie. You aren't supposed to like them. You're supposed to hate her.
Stevie hummed her favourite song, "We Are the Champions" by Queen, to drown out the racing harsh words in her brain. The melody served as a shield against the intrusive thoughts, granting her the strength to face Rhea's anticipated rudeness. As she approached her locker, the humming continued a personal ritual that helped her maintain composure.
Stevie hated Rhea. Everything Rhea did bugged Stevie, from the confident way she strutted into the arena to the smug expression that never seemed to leave her face. It was more than a mere wrestling rivalry; it was a personal clash of egos that permeated every interaction. Stevie resented Rhea's self-assured demeanour, feeling overshadowed her efforts and accomplishments. Rhea's every success felt like a personal affront, a reminder of the wide gap Stevie perceived between them. The tension between them crackled in the air, evident in every exchanged glance and heated exchange of words. It wasn't just about the wrestling matches; it was a battle for dominance, an unspoken challenge to see who could outshine the other in and out of the ring. Stevie's disdain for Rhea fueled her determination to prove herself, to strip away the perceived arrogance that Rhea wore like a crown. Their animosity became a driving force, a bitter rivalry that intensified with each passing encounter.
However, the stain of memories lingered—the softness, the help offered to Rhea the previous week—marring the purity of Stevie's hatred. But Queen's rhythmic anthem provided a familiar refuge.
" Princess ," Stevie greeted with a smirk, employing the sharp tone reserved for Rhea. It was a strategic move to seize the conversational upper hand, knowing Rhea's penchant for launching the first insult. She glanced at Rhea as she unlocked her locker, putting her Monster on the top shelf of the locker to change into her gear.
"Sweetie," Rhea said back, using her teasing nickname of her own for Stevie, her sly smile carrying a hint of venom. "You gonna actually finish the drink today?" Rhea inquired as she got ready, the smug curve of her smirk amplifying Stevie's irritation.
"must you ask me every day?" She sighs, starting to get ready herself.
"Yes, I must ask," Rhea said mockingly, glaring at Stevie. "So, are you going to drink it or not?"
"Yes, I'm going to drink my monster." Stevie gave Rhea an unimpressed look. Stevie retorted, casting an unimpressed glance at Rhea. She rolled her eyes and added, "That's why I bought it, didn't I?"
"But are you going to finish it? or will I find it left on my station like the usual daily routine?" Rhea challenged, shooting Stevie another one of her disdainful looks.
"Rhea, I swear to God," Stevie retorted, her annoyance palpable. Rhea's mocking laugh only fueled Stevie's anger further. Determined to tune out the aggravating presence of Rhea, Stevie immersed herself in the meticulous process of getting ready. Humming her favourite Queen song, she methodically transformed herself. First, her gear was carefully adorned, each strap and buckle secured with precision. Then, she braided her hair, the rhythmic movements as a meditative distraction. Makeup application followed. Each stroke was a deliberate act to shield herself from the impending confrontation. Finally, her boots were meticulously laced, completing the transformation. Stevie rose from her seat with every detail in place, ready to face the stage. She was warmed up, ready to go, and practically itching to get into the ring with Rhea.
Naturally, Rhea couldn't resist delivering one last taunt before Stevie began the match. "Focus, Stevie," she quipped, her gaze unwavering, a smirk playing on her lips as she advanced. "You wouldn't want another embarrassing moment tonight, would you?" She strolled toward the stage door with a laugh, leaving Stevie to stew in her words.
Chapter 5: I’m Going Slightly Mad
Summary:
"Seems like all that extra training is not working," Damian said with a smirk. "Too bad Outright's stuck with such a pathetic member."
Chapter Text
The match unfolded in the ring, mirroring the relentless intensity that marked every encounter between Stevie and Rhea. It was a gruelling match, a battleground where each move was a calculated strike, and victory came at the cost of enduring painful blows. In the end, it was Rhea who emerged triumphant, yet as Rhea observed Stevie's limping departure backstage, with Cody already dissecting the match's nuances, an unexpected and peculiar sensation stirred within her.
An unsettling emotion took hold of Rhea—an emotion she seldom allowed herself to entertain. Respect. It felt peculiar, almost alien, to experience such a sentiment towards Stevie. Rhea grappled with an unusual sympathy for the punishment Stevie had just weathered in the ring. But Rhea knew that stevie gave it everything she had. As she contemplated the aftermath of their intense clash, a subtle shift occurred in Rhea's perception, leaving her with an unanticipated and perplexing concern for her rival's well-being. It was a moment of emotional complexity, a departure from the usual animosity that defined their relationship, leaving Rhea to grapple with this unexpected undercurrent of empathy in the wake of their fierce competition.
Stevie blatantly disregarded Cody's words as her primary objective shifted. She was consumed by the singular desire to retreat backstage, distancing herself from the relentless audience and, more importantly, from the members of Judgment Day revelling in Rhea's victory. The barrage of insults hurled by her teammates grated on Stevie's already thin patience, and the mounting anger within her struggled to be contained. Each additional taunt felt like an assault on her composure, and Stevie found herself fighting to hold back the seething anger threatening to boil over. The cacophony of insults only intensified the internal turmoil, creating a volatile mixture of frustration and resentment that Stevie struggled to conceal.
"Seems like all that extra training is not working," Damian said with a smirk. "Too bad Outright's stuck with such a pathetic member."
Finally, Stevie reached her breaking point. Whirling around, she confronted Damian with a fiery intensity. "Do you want to go?" Her voice reverberated a shout that cut through the tension. Charged with the aftermath of the gruelling match, Stevie abandoned all restraint. The physical toll on her body was momentarily forgotten, overshadowed by a surge of anger and adrenaline. In a bold move, she advanced toward Damian, fueled by a readiness to confront a challenge that transcended the wrestling ring. Sensing the imminent explosion, Cody hastily intervened, gripping Stevie's arm to restrain her. Locked in a fierce gaze with Damian, her fists clenched in anticipation, Stevie strained against Cody's hold. The room fell into a suspended silence as everyone observed, frozen, awaiting the impending clash. Cody's grasp on Stevie's arm stood as the thin line preventing her from unleashing a full-blown frenzy upon Damian. The air crackled with the palpable tension, and it was evident that Stevie was poised to unleash a storm of fury, with Damian squarely in its path.
"Yeah, I am. Come at me, little girl, " he says with a mocking smile. Egging her on even more, wanting to see her get even more mad, wanting to see Stevie's reaction
"I'm not scared of you. Just because you're a dude doesn't mean I won't fuck you up!" she shouted. Cody was still trying to drag Stevie backstage, Sami now also holding Kevin back, Kevin's shouting, joining in with Stevie as the two struggled against the people holding them back.
A wicked smirk crossed Damian's face as he stepped forward, his body language indicating he was ready to fight. This was what he had been waiting for all this time. As much as Rhea loved a good fight, Stevie was clearly in no condition to be fighting after the match. So, as Damian went to say something back, Rhea stepped in. "Damian cut it out," she said, stepping between him and Stevie, pushing Damian away from Stevie.
"But-" Damian started.
"Just cut it out!" Rhea said a little sharper. Damian's eyes grew wide as he met Rhea's. But stevie looked more shocked than anyone else.
Rhea was protecting Stevie.
First, it was Stevie helping Rhea, and now Rhea was standing up for stevie.
Look, Stevie's happy you're protecting her. You could be friends. There doesn't need to be this rivalry. Maybe, just maybe, we could find common ground and build a friendship that would not only reshape our dynamic in the ring but also create a connection that goes beyond the wrestling arena.
She's not happy you're protecting her. She thinks you are pathetic. She's practically holding back her laughter. She's using you, just like everyone else.
The skepticism lingers. The notion that Stevie, beneath the surface, scoffs at Rhea's attempts to protect her. In the echoing chambers of Rhea's mind, a haunting voice whispers she finds it all rather pathetic. The cynicism grows louder, painting a vivid picture of Stevie suppressing laughter, secretly amused by the thought that Rhea's falling into a trap of misplaced trust. It's an insidious narrative garnished by Rhea's memories of people who have feigned friendship only to inflict deeper wounds. The scars from those betrayals make it challenging to trust again, and this intrusive thought weaves a narrative of caution, urging Rhea to be wary of vulnerability. It's a constant battle, wrestling with the fear that history might repeat itself, that beneath Stevie's apparent gratitude lies an agenda of exploitation.
But it is pathetic. Standing up for your rival? That's not just pathetic; it's idiotic.
it's sweet. You're being nice.
Nice is for losers. You are not a loser. You are the future of this goddamn company, and you should be feared. Not protecting Stevie of all people.
Rhea found herself lost in a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts, an overwhelming cacophony of noise and emotion that left her disoriented. The urgency to retreat backstage intensified, driven by the need to distance the rest of Judgment Day from Outright, escape the crowd's relentless roar, and escape Stevie. The conflicting emotions Stevie stirred only heightened the situation's sensory overload. "Just get out of here," Rhea uttered, her gaze briefly meeting Stevie's, who remained stunned.
Stevie returned to reality and backed up, letting Cody lead her backstage, still looking back at Rhea.
Chapter 6: Was It All Worth It
Summary:
“Rhea? Hello?” Dominik’s voice pulled her out of her racing mind.
Chapter Text
"What the fuck was that?" Damian's anger reverberated through the green room as they returned to Judgement Day's quarters. His accusatory gaze zeroed in on Rhea. "She was asking for it."
"You were the one insulting her first," Rhea retorted, a discernible edge in her voice. "Stevie wasn't in any condition to fight after what happened in that match. I can't keep fighting her if you get her medically unfit to fight." She held Damian's gaze, her tone unwavering. His eyes remained fixed on her, though the fury seemed to ebb slightly. "She's my rival, not yours. If anyone is going to kick her ass, it will be me," she added, attempting to restore a semblance of normalcy, concealing the inner turmoil.
Damian sighed, breaking the intense exchange. He looked away and conceded, "You're right," sitting down with a slight groan. "Outright is a fucking problem, though," he added, the lingering anger still evident on his face. The unresolved tension hung in the air, a testament to the complex dynamics within Judgement Day.
Rhea released a slow, drawn-out exhale, nodding in apparent acknowledgement. Yet, despite her outward effort to portray calmness, her thoughts continued to race. Her attention was diverted from any strategic consideration for her next move against Stevie to the events unfolding. Rhea should be listening to Finn talking about the matches Rhea was stuck in the memory of the prior week. Stevie's hands were so soft. Her voice had so much gentle kindness and how stevie looked at her tonight . Despite the simple few words Rhea said to stop Damian, something within Rhea was awry as if a crucial component of her worldview had been dislodged. Rhea struggled to make sense of her sudden internal upheaval.
"Rhea? Hello?" Dominik's voice pulled her out of her racing mind.
Rhea looked up quickly. Dominik, Damian and Finn were looking at her with almost... concern. "Yeah? Sorry," she said, "just in a bit of pain." Rhea motioned to her knee, picking the first excuse she could think of to hide the real reason she was so distracted. The moment with Stevie was still fresh in her mind. As much as Rhea wanted to let those thoughts go to focus on the upcoming matches in the following weeks, they kept returning to her. Why are you thinking this way? She didn't even want to consider the thoughts, but they kept coming back. Her mind was a mess.
"We were talking about getting some food. Are you down?" Finn asked
Rhea's mind was still reeling from her unexpected interaction with Stevie, but she managed to collect herself. "Yeah, I'm down," she said, her tone changing to her usual self. The moment with Stevie was still fresh in her mind, but she decided to ignore it for now. She needed to focus on the here and now. And the here and now was dinner with Judgment Day.
"Ok, well, go get changed, and we'll meet you back here?" Finn said.
Oh great, now you'll have to deal with stevie, so much for not thinking about her. She'll probably make fun of you. But she should. You showed just how weak and pathetic you are.
This could be good. You could talk to her. You could sort through all this emotion.
When have you ever 'sorted' through your emotions? That is for the weak. Do you want to show everyone you're weak?
Chapter 7: Bicycle Race
Summary:
“I don’t even know if those are real words or you’re messing with me,” Cody said, shaking his head with a confused look.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Outright's green room welcomed Stevie in a tense silence, a stark contrast to the electrifying energy of the wrestling arena. Cody's disapproval hung like an unspoken storm, brewing with every step they took into the confined space.
"How many times have we talked about you losing your temper like that?" Cody's voice cut through the quiet with a firm tone laden with disappointment. His anger at Stevie for engaging with Damian was palpable, a visible crack in the unity of Judgment Day. "You are an adult, Stevie. You can't be going around like that, getting into fights with everyone and anyone who calls you a name."
See, even he thinks you're a monster. Can't stop fighting everyone? Such a fucking freak. Maybe if you just quit the team like everyone says you should, you would make them lose all the time.
Stevie's eyes, heavy with remorse, couldn't meet Cody's stern gaze. The burn of shame and humiliation inched up her cheeks, vividly displaying her internal struggle. The weight of Cody's words pressed heavily on Stevie's shoulders, exacerbating the burn of shame and humiliation creeping up her cheeks, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips as she sought refuge in a mumbled apology. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, the words carrying the weight of regret. "I was just-".
"Sorry isn't going to change the fact you nearly attacked someone because they said something mean," Cody said, giving her a look she knows too well by now.
Quit the team. You're the one making them lose. You're the one bringing them down. Just quit the team.
Amid the reprimand, Sami quietly started to help Stevie with the bruises and the swelling inflicted by one of Rhea's powerful blows. His presence offered a temporary respite from the storm brewing in the room. He prepared an ice pack on a towel, a makeshift remedy. "Look up." Sami lifted Stevie's chin, gently putting the ice pack on her face. "Just keep it there, alright?" he looked at her with a soft smile. He looked down to Stevie in a Brotherly way, ensuring she wouldn't be in too much pain.
The cold touch physically manifested the repercussions of Stevie's actions, starkly contrasting the heated moments in the ring. Stevie nodded thankfully. She held the ice pack on the side of her face, a small sigh of relief escaping her as the ice soothed some of the pain and soreness from the already darkening bruises.
It's ok, it was just a mistake. It wasn't your fault Damian was yelling at you. You just reacted to what he was saying.
"Oh bud, ya got no idea, eh?" Kevin said, his Canadian accent coming out more when he was mad, as it always did. "He was bein' a real hoser[1] , chirpin'[2] at 'er like that, bud, let me tell ya,' he was lookin' for a tilly[3] . I say we should'a let her." Stevie snorted and started to laugh when she saw how confused Cody was. She had understood Kevin. She'd heard the Canadian slang as she grew up. But, despite having been on the team with the three Canadians for a while now, Cody still needed to understand some of their slang.
See, Kevin and Sami are with you. It's going to be ok. They don't want you to quit. They want you to do the best you can. And Cody knows the best stevie is one who controls her anger. That's not a bad thing. That's just a way you will improve yourself. That's what you want, right? To be the best stevie you can be? They want that for you.
You'll never be 'the best.' The best aren't monsters. The best aren't freaks. The best are good at what they do, which is definitely not you.
"I don't even know if those are real words or you're messing with me," Cody said, shaking his head with a confused look.
"Would you prefer I speak in French? Because I can say 'that was bullshit' in a different language if you need me to." Kevin said back “c'était absurde![4] ”
By now, even Cody was trying not to laugh. Because, of course, they were a team, and of course, stevie had lost her temper and disappointed him. But Outright was a family; they could never stay mad at each other for too long.
"of course she péter une coche[5] . He's a fucking idiot who thinks he's some god because he's a little taller than the old tree out back[6] . Who gives a shit if she fucks him up?" Kevin said, his rant about Damian continuing.
"Oh no, he's mixing in the Québécois [7]." stevie laughed. "We better run before he switches fully to French."
"That's when you know he's pissed," Sami said. Laughing
That's when Cody broke. As Cody's laughter erupted in the green room, the tension that had gripped the space began to dissipate. Cody, caught between exasperation and amusement, couldn't resist joining in the jokes. The unique bond of Outright, a mix of people and personalities, proved unbreakable even in the face of heated moments.
"You Canadians and your slang. I swear, I need a translation guide just to understand you guys," Cody chuckled, shaking his head in mock frustration.
Kevin grinned, clapping Cody on the shoulder. "We're just keepin' it interesting for ya. and plus, it's not our fault we all learned french in school."
Stevie's guilt began to ease with the storm of reproach replaced by the light-hearted banter. She appreciated the unique blend of support and teasing that defined her Outright family. Still holding the ice pack to her face, she managed a wry smile. "Alright, alright, enough clowning around, you hosers. I'm heading to the locker room to change. Maybe I'll catch up with you guys later," Stevie said, her tone a mix of playfulness and sincerity.
As she left the green room, the echoes of laughter followed her down the hallway. The bonds Outright shared, while occasionally tested by heated moments in the ring, remained unshaken—a testament to the strength of their unconventional family.
Stevie took a moment to reflect on the events that had transpired in the quiet of the locker room. The bruises on her face were a visible reminder of her impulsive actions. Yet, amidst the physical pain, she carried the warmth of friendship that could weather any storm. The locker room door closed behind her, and Stevie began to change, but of course, the universe wouldn't let her get through the night without a little more confusion. Because just then, Rhea walked into the locker room.
Notes:
[1] A hoser is an insult that means foolish or uncultivated person.
[2] To chirp or chirping is to insult them or talk badly about that person or people.
[3] A tilly is hockey slang for a fight or altercation between players on the ice
[4] "That's nonsense!"
[5] Literally, "to blow a fuse." It means to get angry or lose one's temper.
[6] A saying for someone tall (but I think that one might be a thing my family says.)
[7] Québécois is the form of French spoken in Quebec.Congratulations, you've learned some Candian slang and a bit of Québécois!
Chapter 8: I Want to Break Free
Summary:
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Stevie quickly said, “About what you did at the ring-”
Chapter Text
Shit. Stevie's already here. And that goddamn monster can is on your station! I knew it. She always does this. This is why I hate her. She's messy, rude, and annoying. Every time Stevie walks in, it's like a hurricane of chaos trailing behind her. It's not just about the mess; it's the sheer audacity of her, the way she disrupts everything without a care in the world. And I swear, this time, I won't let it slide.
Rhea's mind was going wild, but despite her desperate need to listen and maintain her hatred and the rivalry, Rhea could feel her hatred for stevie slowly sinking lower and lower. The rude thoughts and options gradually shift.
She hasn't even looked at you yet. And maybe the monster can be an accident. And she's just getting out of her gear. She has to be here. It's the locker room. She's not attacking you personally by existing in the same room as you. She's simply going home for the day.
Stevie glanced over, blushing slightly when she saw Rhea. She quickly reaches over and grabs the can she had left at Rhea's station. "Sorry," she said quickly, tossing the can in the recycling bin.
Rhea's eyes went wide. She couldn't believe what she was thinking. It felt like those thoughts had betrayed her. How could her mind be so conflicted about this? Was it possible that, under all this hatred that everyone knew of, there was some sort of... respect that had grown for Stevie? It couldn't be real, yet she felt... odd. It was as if her brain was trying to fight her feelings. She couldn't believe she was willing to consider that she didn't hate Stevie with every fibre of her being.
No! You can't like stevie. Stevie is weak! You hate Stevie!
"It's okay," Rhea said, going to her locker, trying to sound normal. Her voice was quick and quiet as well.
As the rivals changed, the air was practically buzzing with an awkward tension that was usually not there. Usually, the silence was filled with bickering, and back-and-forth jabs stretched on and on until they both felt like they would lose their minds.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Stevie quickly said, "About what you did at the ring-"
"Don't worry about it." Rhea quickly cut her off, not wanting to acknowledge it had happened. Her tone made it clear that she was not ready to end the feud. Rhea didn't want to rehash the confusion she had been thinking about. She just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. "I wasn't trying to be nice or anything..." she said, her voice trailing off as she thought about why she'd stepped up for Stevie in the first place.
But alas, stevie persisted. "I just wanted to say thank you," she looked up at Rhea, "and congrats on the win. You deserved it."
Rhea was at a loss for words. Stevie had thanked her and acknowledged her victory. That, by itself, was incredibly unexpected. But her words... it was as if she didn't know Rhea's true feelings towards her. Or did she?
Why was Steve being so friendly? Why was she complimenting Rhea and thanking her for something she'd never thank Stevie for if the roles were reversed? Was Stevie unaware of the extent of Rhea's hate? Or had she seen through it into someone Rhea didn't want to show anyone?
She just said thank you. Stevie just said you deserved the win. What the fuck is happening.
Stop liking this! She's just buttering you up. She's just going to turn on you. She's going to use you.
"Now I will say I'm very sleep-deprived and not at the top of my game." stevie continued, her tone turning joking before she looked at Rhea with sincerity. "It was a good fight. I had fun." she smiles softly.
Rhea wasn't sure how that was happening. Here was Stevie, complimenting and looking at her with genuine... kindness in her eyes. It was as if she didn't want to believe it, but she was seeing it. Could the feud be over this easily? There was something else going on here that she couldn't place. Yet, every statement Stevie made drove home how much she didn't want to hate her. "I had fun, too," she said hesitantly. As Stevie returned to change, something was still in Rhea's mind. Stevie said she was sleep-deprived. "Stevie?"
"Mm?" stevie hummed to acknowledge that she heard Rhea as she cleaned her face with a makeup wipe.
"What do you mean sleep deprived?" Rhea asked, watching Stevie in her peripheral vision as she put away her ring gear.
"Oh, uh…" stevie nervously looked away, debating telling Rhea or not. Finally, she decided just to tell the truth. "I get nasty insomnia from my anxiety. So I'm up most nights, and it seems the last 4 were part of the majority." she rolls her eyes and briefly chuckles to hide just how nervous she is telling Rhea this.
Rhea looked at Steive, clearly hesitant to believe Steive. "Really?" she asked.
"Why would I lie about something like that?" stevie asked, getting slightly defensive as she was so used to Rhea attacking her over any weakness she showed.
"No, I didn't mean-" Rhea looked away, unsure how to converse with Steive. "I also have insomnia. I thought you might be…" Rhea glanced back to stevie, "making fun of me or something." she shrugged lightly.
"Oh…right, sorry." stevie looked back into her locker as she put away her boots. She dropped her sneakers on the floor and started putting them on. "No-sleep-twins, I guess," she tried to joke, letting out a breath laugh.
Rhea couldn't help but chuckle, too. "Is that why you're always drinking those monsters?" Rhea asked, the flow of conversation coming a little easier now.
"Guilty," stevie said with a blameworthy smile. "Are you a slave to the caffeine gods, too?" she asked, pulling on her shirt.
"Yeah, but I'm more of a coffee person," Rhea said.
"Oh right, you drink black coffee. I forgot," stevie said, making a playful, grossed-out face. "I hate to say it, princess, but that might be the most unhinged thing you do."
"It's so I don't have dairy, alright? It makes me feel all gross," Rhea said, laughing at Stevie's face. "And at least I'm not the one with a constant sugar high, sound familiar, sweetie?" she smirked at stevie.
"Oh, shots fired," stevie said, laughing. For the first time, Rhea felt like talking to stevie was easy. As Stevie picked up her bags and closed her locker, Rhea was almost disappointed. "Later, princess," stevie said with a nod, walking past Rhea towards the locker room door. And as she did every day, she put her hood up and over her hair as Stevie left the dressing room. The confusion and racing thoughts returned with every step stevie took away from the locker room. But one phrase was playing on repeat in Rhea's mind all through the night. Through the dinner with the rest of the Judgement day. Through the taxi ride back to the hotel. The elevator ride up to her room. The only constant in Rhea's mind now was stevie voice.
"I just wanted to say thank you and congrats on the win. You deserved it."
Chapter 9: Don't Stop Me Now
Summary:
No one knows. You’re all alone. It’s just you. You and your thoughts. You and your thoughts about Stevie.
Chapter Text
As the night wore on, it became arduous for Rhea to divert her attention from a singular fixation—Stevie's voice. This echo resonated incessantly within the confines of her mind. "I just wanted to say thank you and congrats on the win. You deserved it." The usual clarity of thought seemed to elude her, leaving her perplexed. The unwritten script dictated that animosity should dominate their dynamic, yet Rhea grappled with a more intricate emotional landscape.
The evening's convoluted emotions, coupled with a liberal intake of drinks during dinner, gradually eroded Rhea's resolve. The lines delineating the boundaries of their relationship blurred, and in the early morning hours, Rhea found herself navigating the curated world of Stevie through the lens of Instagram.
The hotel room, steeped in darkness, served as the perfect backdrop for Rhea's late-night exploration. Her fingers scrolled with purpose through Stevie's digital narrative. In a moment of confidential indulgence, Rhea logged into her burner account, a veil of anonymity shrouding her curiosity. It was a secret dalliance with temptation, a deviation from the established norm.
As she traversed Stevie's posts—each image, each video—a clandestine dance unfolded within Rhea's thoughts. The gin, its taste lingering from the three gin and tonics imbibed earlier, played puppeteer to her self-control. Under the influence of the juniper-laden spirits, Rhea allowed herself to wander through mental landscapes she had previously deemed a rabbit hole of forbidden fruit and temptation, a secret dalliance with curiosity.
No one knows. You're all alone. It's just you. You and your thoughts. You and your thoughts about Stevie.
The photographs spoke a silent language of stolen moments and curated memories. Rhea's gaze lingered longer than she had intended, traversing the enigmatic pathways of Stevie's life. It was an exploration fueled by curiosity and veiled desire, a momentary lapse of inhibition in the shadows of the night.
And when Rhea found the video, she subconsciously had been looking for this whole time. The rhythmic hum of Rhea's heart rate speeding up in anticipation resonated within her, and as she stumbled upon a particular video, time seemed to freeze in its tracks.
The video, an unwitting treasure trove that had eluded her until now, unveiled itself before Rhea's eager gaze. It was the footage she had been searching for, although the purpose had remained clandestine even to her introspection. As the clip commenced, a subtle hesitation lingered in the air, as if the universe recognized this moment's gravity.
It was a snippet from the past, a visual echo of an experience shared. The setting, an ice bath—a challenge, a dare, perhaps the whim of Cody compelling them all to partake in the frigid ritual. It's just some way to improve, an attempt to reduce inflammation and swelling . A dismissive chuckle escaped Rhea as her eyes darted past the seemingly innocuous caption, an attempt at humour in the face of a seemingly mundane group activity.
Yet, as the seconds unfolded in the visual narrative, Rhea's gaze fixated on the star of the spectacle—Stevie. There, in all her vulnerability and defiance of societal norms, Stevie's scantily clad form plunged into the unforgiving depths of the metal tub filled with a chilling concoction of water and ice. The moment unfolded in slow motion, each frame etching itself into Rhea's consciousness.
If it's just training, why is it so fun to watch? Why is it making your skin hot? Why is it making you wet?
Sage green yoga shorts clung to Stevie's silhouette, tracing the contours of a body that had long eluded the scrutinizing lens of self-perception. A sports bra, modest yet provocative, showcased the canvas of Stevie's physique—a canvas that, until now, Rhea had consciously chosen not to scrutinize.
The way Stevie's skin shined with the water. It was entrancing. A bright diamond sparkle highlights each curve and rise of Stevie's body. The nuances of Stevie's expression, the subtle play of emotions on her face, intrigued Rhea. Was it reluctance, camaraderie, or a hint of defiance that danced in her eyes? The dichotomy of Stevie's persona, laid bare in the chilly embrace of the ice bath, stirred a peculiar brew of emotions within Rhea—a concoction of fascination, confusion, and an unsettling awareness.
An awareness that Rhea was not only getting turned on but was getting turned on by a woman she used to hate.
The scene unfolded like a carefully choreographed dance with the elements. Stevie, framed by the stark contrast of ice and water, moved with a grace that belied the chilling temperature. As she prepared to submerge herself beneath the ice's unforgiving surface, a symphony of breaths played in the background—fast, heavy, an audible manifestation of the physical exertion and the impending confrontation with the cold. She held onto the sides of the metal tub, using her hands to maintain her balance. Her grunts and expletives were almost sensual, the sound drifting off her tongue with every exhale. Rhea's eyes were closed, the only distraction being Stevie's voice, her mind drifting to thoughts of the other girl's lips on her own. This was forbidden, but she couldn't help herself. Rhea wanted Stevie's body pressed against her own at that moment.
And as Rhea's free hand slowly traced down her own body, slipping under her waistband, she ignored everything but the sound of Steive's moan-like grunts and hisses. Stevie's breath, a metronome of anticipation, became the prelude to the immersive experience that awaited her. The air, thick with an unspoken tension, reverberated with the primal cadence of survival. Each inhalation, a momentary pause before the plunge, echoed through the room like an unspoken heartbeat.
Rhea's finger slowly dipped into her folds. And then, the moment of immersion—a poetic descent into the icy depths. Stevie's form disappeared beneath the surface, a fluid dance with the frigid water now going up to her neck. The ambient sounds shifted, now punctuated by a symphony of grunts and expletives that escaped Stevie's lips. As Rhea absorbed the visual and auditory tapestry unfolding on the screen, the paradox of sensations intensified—a paradoxical dance of discomfort and fascination.
And as the pace of the movements of Rhea's fingers sped up, she let her mind wander further. The thought of what Rhea could do to stevie to earn the moans and whimpers herself.
Rhea would hold Stevie's hips still as her tongue tasted just how sweet Stevie would be. Rhea's nails would dig into Stevie's hip just hard enough to leave marks Rhea could trail with kisses when they were through. Her tongue would dance on stevie just as her fingers danced on herself. After all, Stevie was a forbidden fruit. She should be savoured.
The image of stevie beneath Rhea laced with the pleasure Rhea was giving herself, diving Rhea closer and closer to the edge of her climax.
This is so wrong. This is fucked up, Rhea. You shouldn't be doing this.
Who gives a shit? It feels so fucking good.
Stevie's grunts and breathing from the video filled the room. Rhea's breath matched Stevie's as she let herself imagine what she'd never allowed herself to before. And as Rhea rose higher and higher on the mountain of pleasure and got closer and closer to her climax, small breath moans of her own escaped her lips.
"Fuck, yes, just like that," Rhea breathed, speaking through her teeth, and she moved her fingers, making herself feel as good as only she could. And as her back arched, Rhea came undone. The waves of electricity shot up her spine and down into her culling toes, making Rhea let out one last moan. The orgasm rippled through her body as she rode through the aftershocks.
With her fingers now slick with her own desire, Rhea reclined, her body melting into the plush contours of the hotel room bed as she cast her gaze upward, fixating on the intricate patterns adorning the ceiling. The initial intoxication that had paved the way for this moment had now dissipated, leaving in its wake a clarity that rendered her stone-cold sober.
In the ensuing stillness, the weight of her actions descended upon Rhea's shoulders like an undeniable force. The room, once a hazy backdrop to her blurred decisions, now sharpened into focus as reality and logic reclaimed their dominance in her conscious mind. It was as if a sobering wind had swept through the fog of drunkenness, leaving Rhea to grapple with the repercussions of her choices. The air hung heavy with a newfound awareness, each passing second intensifying the gravity of the situation she found herself in.
What the fuck did you just do?
With a swift, almost impulsive gesture, Rhea hastily shut down the Instagram app, a decisive click echoing in the stillness of her dimly lit room. At that moment, she cast her phone aside to the bedside table as though the mere act of distancing herself from the digital realm would somehow reverse the clandestine exploration she had just undertaken. However, the stark reality lingered—Rhea had traversed a boundary, stepping into a realm of unfamiliarity that promised to unfurl a tapestry of confusion within her.
The room, bathed in the glow of the muted screen before its abrupt demise, seemed to encroach upon her, an unwitting accomplice in the silent turmoil unfolding in Rhea's mind. The disquiet that had settled in the wake of her actions manifested as an almost tangible tension, like the charged air preceding a storm. The echo of her phone meeting the surface she discarded it upon was a punctuation mark to the internal struggle she grappled with.
As Rhea reclined to seek solace in the sanctuary of her bed, the weight of the venture bore down upon her consciousness. It wasn't just a matter of closing an app; she had crossed an intangible threshold into uncharted emotional terrain. The confusion, a nebulous fog that threatened to envelop her thoughts, trailed in the wake of her every movement.
The dance of conflicting emotions within her psyche heightened as she rolled over, seeking refuge in the familiar embrace of her bed. The soft glow of her thoughts painted an internal landscape dominated by shadows of uncertainty. What she had witnessed, an image etched in her mind like an indelible mark, played out before her eyes as she attempted to succumb to the embrace of sleep.
Once a haven, the room now bore witness to the silent echoes of inner turmoil. Rhea's mind became a battleground where reason grappled with impulse, and the image she had stumbled upon became an elusive spectre haunting the corridors of her consciousness. Sleep, an elusive sanctuary, seemed unreachable as the confusion she had stirred within herself threatened to linger like a ghost in the shadows, refusing to be exorcised.
Chapter 10: All Dead, All Dead
Summary:
Kevin, too, joined in the chorus of surprise, his initial curiosity replaced by a growing sense of irritation. "You're joking. You must be joking." The disbelief in his tone mirrored the sentiment of the room, leaving Stevie caught off guard by the unexpected backlash.
Chapter Text
As Stevie stepped into the arena on this particular Monday, an inexplicable sense of elation coursed through her veins. It had been a whole week since the unexpected conversation with Rhea in the locker room—an encounter that left lingering traces of uncertainty and surprise. However, the passing days seemed to have woven a newfound confidence within Stevie, and tonight held the promise of being a transformative moment in her wrestling journey.
Adorned with her headphones, she plunged into the electrifying atmosphere, the pulsating beats of Killer Queen by Queen serving as her personal anthem. The music reverberated in her ears, creating a rhythm harmonizing with the anticipation building within her. Stevie's stride exuded a self-assured energy, a departure from the usual turbulence that characterized her encounters with Rhea.
You're killing it, stevie. Look at you, strutting your stuff. You look so good right now, but who cares what you look like? You feel so good it doesn't even matter!
You look stupid.
No, you don't. You're killing the game and taking names. Tonight is your night.
The arena, bathed in the glow of neon lights and echoing with the distant murmur of the crowd, became the canvas for Stevie's newfound optimism. The air crackled with the collective excitement of wrestling fans, and Stevie couldn't help but absorb the infectious energy that permeated the space. As she navigated the backstage corridors, the familiarity of the environment blended seamlessly with the undercurrent of anticipation that accompanied her.
The echoes of her music accompanied her every step, a melodic manifestation of the confidence pulsing through her veins. Stevie's demeanour exuded a blend of determination and poise as she ventured further into the heart of the arena. The hum of conversation, the clatter of equipment, and the occasional cheers from the audience created a symphony of sounds that enveloped her.
Stepping into the Outright's green room, Stevie's beaming smile lit up the space, infusing it with an infectious energy. Her routine unfolded seamlessly—the reassuring sip of her Monster, bags casually dropped on the familiar bench. The room buzzed with banter, a customary prelude to the wrestling spectacle awaiting them.
Kevin immediately chimed in with playful teasing, his tone a mock surprise. "You're early!? Who are you, and where is Stevie?" The exchange was lighthearted. Kevin smiled from just how happy stevie seemed. It was unusual for her to be this bubbly right away.
Unfazed, Stevie responded with laughter, determined not to let Kevin's banter dampen her good mood. "Don't rain on my parade, Owens. I'm in a good mood and won't let your slander ruin it." The camaraderie flowed effortlessly, setting the tone for the pre-match rituals.
"no, she's on time," Cody said, looking at his watch. "Early is-"
"-on time. On-time is late. And late is fired. We know," Sami, Kevins and Stevie said in unison, rolling their eyes collectively.
As Stevie gathered her gear, the room hummed with an anticipatory energy. The green room, adorned with wrestling paraphernalia and personal effects, became a haven where the Outright members prepared for the impending drama in the ring. Laughter resonated, harmonizing with the excitement that permeated the air. The backstage sanctuary became a microcosm of the wrestling world, where friendships, banter, and shared passion intertwined.
Cody's chuckle echoed in the green room as he observed Stevie amidst her pre-match preparations. Intrigued by her upbeat demeanour, he couldn't help but inquire, "What's got you all happy-go-lucky?" His curiosity lingered, a genuine interest in the sudden change in Stevie's disposition.
Stevie, with a grin that radiated positivity, shared her revelation. "I took your advice. I talked with Rhea, and it wasn't terrible." The words tumbled out with a sense of accomplishment, her smile reflecting her pride in breaking through the barriers of her and Rhea's rivalry.
However, Cody's reaction was not what Stevie expected. His response, a blend of shock and a subtle undercurrent of anger cut through the jubilant atmosphere. "You did WHAT?!" The exclamation reverberated in the room, creating an abrupt shift in the mood.
Kevin, too, joined in the chorus of surprise, his initial curiosity replaced by a growing sense of irritation. "You've gotta be messin' with us. You can't be serious." The disbelief in his tone mirrored the sentiment of the room, leaving Stevie caught off guard by the unexpected backlash.
Instantly, the bubble of Stevie's newfound confidence was mercilessly popped. The elation that had buoyed her moments ago gave way to an unsettling coldness in her stomach—a sensation akin to being caught red-handed with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. The atmosphere in the room, once charged with camaraderie, took on a tense edge. "I just talked to her. I thought you wanted me to stop fighting?" Stevie's defence was etched on her face, a mix of confusion and an earnest desire to heed Cody's counsel, now met with an unexpected resistance that threatened to overshadow her positive strides.
"I wanted you to stop fighting. Not get all buddy-buddy with Rhea Ripley, of all people. She's probably using you to get information on us," Cody said, "how could you've thought this was a good idea? She's part of the judgment day!" Cody said, his disappointment evident.
Still wearing a frown, Kevin chimed in with a hint of annoyance. "Stevie, what were ya' thinkin'? I thought ya were smarter than that, bud."
The intrusive thoughts that had taunted Stevie earlier seized the opportunity to chime in. I told you, you look stupid. And now everyone can see it. Stupid Stevie trusted Rhea. This was always going to turn out like this. The internal self-criticism, coupled with Cody's disappointment, created a dissonance that echoed in the room.
"Stevie, you've got to be more careful. We can't afford to let Judgment Day get any insights into our plans or strategies. Trusting Rhea is a big risk." Cody's scolding persisted, each word laden with a reproachful tone as though he were addressing a child.
Insights into plans strategies—oh, how precious. You've become their unwitting informant, sharing Outright's secrets like a traitor. Did you really think cozying up to Rhea would end well?
The gravity of the situation hung in the air, the room now charged with a palpable tension that seemed to intensify with each passing moment. The concern in Cody's voice echoed the collective sentiment, a shared worry that urged Stevie to acknowledge the potential consequences of her actions. "And we can't afford to take risks like that. What you did was not just naive and impulsive. It was stupid," Cody's words cut through the room with a sharpness that seemed to linger in the air. The weight of his disapproval pressed down on Stevie, and her initial elation from sharing her breakthrough with Rhea now seemed like a distant memory.
Naive, impulsive, and stupid. Cody's words, not mine. But don't you see, Stevie? You've disappointed not only him but the entire team. They trusted you; now, you're just another liability, a weakness that could cost them everything.
The green room now felt imbued with an air of disappointment and tension. Cody's stern demeanour, usually a pillar of support for Stevie, now became a source of judgment. The sharpness of his words left an indelible mark, and Stevie found herself grappling with the realization that her attempt to forge a connection with Rhea had repercussions she hadn't anticipated. As Cody continued emphasizing the gravity of the situation, it was like it all went to white noise. Stevie couldn't hear. The blood pounding in her ears, the burn of shame and humiliation at letting the team down even further, stinging at her skin, her stomach churning into knots. The warmth of her earlier confidence gave way to chilling self-doubt, and the ice-cold burn in her stomach spread like tendrils of uncertainty. The unintended consequences of her actions became more apparent, and Stevie began to question the wisdom of her choices in the face of Cody's unyielding criticism.
So stupid. You let them down. You let them all down. Just because you weren't strong enough to know what a rival was. Pathetic. Stupid. Just quit the team at this point. You've done nothing but fuck them up.
Kevin's expression, still etched with concern and frustration, interjected with a pointed remark. "Stevie, for Christ's sake, we're a team, eh? We need to be able to trust ya. Judgement Day is not our ally, and we absolutely cannot afford to let them gain any advantage! Get yer damn head out of yer ass, bud! he shouted the last words, making stevie flinch.
You made the wrong choice, Stevie. You broke the team's trust, and you will face the consequences. Are you proud of yourself, Stevie? You just threw away your future and your team's trust for what... for a moment of softness?
Caught in the crossfire of scrutiny, Stevie struggled to find her voice amid the swirl of conflicting emotions. The green room, once a refuge, now felt like a battleground of her conscience, where she was forced to confront the repercussions of a choice that disrupted the fragile trust within her team. Her heart was racing, and her breath was growing shallow. "I-i-" she stammered, taking a shaky step backwards out of pure instinct.
Look at you, cowering in fear. You're weak and indecisive, and you're letting your team down. Look at how mad they are. Look at how much you screwed them over.
Sensing the escalating tension, Sami quickly interjected, stepping forward to mediate the growing conflict. "Easy, easy, guys. I think she gets the point." His calm demeanour aimed to diffuse the charged atmosphere, attempting to quell the rising frustration and anger. "I'm sure she knows not to do it anymore, and I'm sure she won't," he added, his words a soothing balm to temper Kevin and Cody's ire.
Feeling the weight of the reproach and the heat of the situation, Stevie managed a subdued apology, her voice a fragile attempt at steadiness that barely masked her vulnerability. "I'm sorry," she uttered, the two words hanging in the air like an admission of fault. She dared not say anything more, afraid that any additional words might betray the emotions threatening to overwhelm her, pushing her to the brink of tears.
Look at the mess you've made. You thought you were being smart, but now Cody's disappointed, and Judgment Day is probably laughing behind your back. Trusting Rhea? What a joke. You played right into their hands.
Cody released a deep sigh, a visible display of his internal struggle, and turned away from Stevie. His hands ran through his hair as he grappled with the surging emotions, a physical manifestation of his effort to regain composure. After a prolonged silence that hung heavy in the room, he finally spoke, his voice carrying a mix of conflicting sentiments. "I'm glad that you attempted to mend things. It shows maturity and a willingness to change," he admitted the words bearing a note of acknowledgment for Stevie's intentions. However, an undercurrent of frustration and disappointment remained palpable in his voice.
Glad you made an attempt? Oh, how generous. But can you really trust that gentler tone? Underneath, he's still mad, and you know it. You've jeopardized the team, and no amount of good intentions will erase the stain of your impulsive actions.
"I just wish you had thought this through a little more," he continued, his tone adopting a gentler cadence, attempting to convey a measure of understanding. Yet, it was clear that, despite this acknowledgment of effort, Cody's anger lingered beneath the surface, a testament to the gravity of Stevie's actions and the potential repercussions for the team.
And now he wishes you had thought it through more. Classic. Your attempt at redemption only digs a deeper hole. Maybe next time, think before you act. But then again, when have you ever listened to reason?
Stevie nodded in silence, the weight of Cody's disappointment settling heavily on her shoulders. Each nod felt like a solemn agreement with the accusations, her lips sealed to prevent the torrent of emotions bubbling within her from escaping. Speaking seemed like an impossibility, a dangerous breach that could shatter the fragile composure she was barely holding onto.
Oh, Stevie, how pitiful. Nodding like a scolded child. Is this what you've become? A weakling seeking approval from those who barely matter?
Her gaze dropped to the floor, seeking solace in the indifferent surface beneath her feet. The cool, unyielding ground became a focal point, a silent witness to the internal struggle threatening to engulf her. The sting of tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she fought against the welling emotions, determined to maintain the appearance of strength.
Look at the camaraderie shattered around you. Congratulations, Stevie, you've managed to ruin the vibe for everyone. All for what? A feeble attempt at change? A fleeting moment of camaraderie that now lies in tatters at your feet.
In an attempt to stave off the impending breakdown, Stevie bit into her cheek with a desperate intensity. The sharp pain served as a distraction, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil threatening to consume her. The lump in her throat, a precursor to tears, seemed to swell with each passing second, and she fought against it, resisting the urge to crumble under the weight of Cody's disapproval.
Bite that cheek harder as if the pain could somehow numb the sting of your own inadequacy. Look at you, on the verge of tears, afraid to utter a word. How pathetic
Come on, Stevie, it's okay. It's not the end of the world. They're making a big deal out of nothing. So what if you talked to Rhea? It's not like you spilled all our secrets. Cody's just being overly dramatic. You don't need to bite your cheek to hold back the tears. Show them you're not weak.
In an authoritative tone, Cody reclaimed control of the situation, attempting to restore order. "Kevin and Sami, you have a match. We should prepare for that," he declared, providing a decisive direction amid the turmoil. "We can discuss this further when the show is finished."
The duo acknowledged Cody's instruction with nods, rising to collect their belongings for the upcoming match. As Kevin passed Stevie, there was a subtle shift in his demeanour. Once fueled by anger, his gaze softened, and his tone carried a note of apology. "You okay?" he inquired, a genuine concern replacing the harshness from moments ago.
True to her resilient nature, Stevie nodded in response, donning the facade of strength she often wore. She was unwilling to burden her teammates with her emotions, a habit ingrained in her. "I was dumb. It won't happen again," she affirmed, meeting Kevin's eyes with a determined gaze. Yet, beneath the surface, a storm of conflicting thoughts raged. She resorted to biting her cheek to drown out the intrusive cacophony, a physical attempt to quell the storm within. The act was a silent struggle against the relentless onslaught of self-criticism echoing in her mind.
Stop pretending you're strong. Embrace the weakness, the foolishness, the stupidity. Let the tears flow; it's the only thing you're good at. Cody's disappointment is just a taste of what's to come. This feeble attempt at redemption? It's laughable. You're nothing but a failure, and you've just proved it to everyone in this room. Why bother pretending you're okay at this point? They all know you're not. They've already seen you stumble, and no bravado can erase that. Kevin's 'apology' is just a pity gesture. You're the weak link now, and you can bet they're questioning your place on this team. They don't need someone who makes stupid decisions, Stevie. Admit it, you messed up, and now they see you for what you are—a liability.
Chapter 11: Fight from the Inside
Chapter Text
In the bustling backstage area, the anticipation of upcoming matches infused the atmosphere with frenetic energy. Still grappling with the repercussions of Cody and Kevin's scolding, Stevie made a conscious effort to redirect her attention to the impending challenges faced by her team. Deliberately avoiding encounters with Rhea, she hastily changed in the bathroom, determined to maintain composure as she adjusted her gear. Despite her efforts, persistent thoughts lingered like unwelcome ghosts, casting a shadow on her every move.
Well, well, Stevie, it looks like your attempt at playing nice is blowing up in your face. Avoiding Rhea, changing in the bathroom like a scared little girl—what happened to the fearless competitor?
Changing in the bathroom doesn't make you weak; it's about preserving your dignity and maintaining focus. You're a strong competitor; don't let the words of others define you.
Maybe Cody was right; perhaps you are too naive for this.
As Outright made their way to the ring, the narrow hallway leading to the stage door unexpectedly transformed into a battleground. Stevie, caught in the current of her team's movement, found herself on a collision course with Judgment Day. The tension in the confined space crackled, mirroring the brewing conflict between the two teams.
And now, a collision course with Judgment Day? Classic.
And as if the universe revelled in adding insult to injury, Finn, ever the instigator, decided to stir the pot with a snide comment. "On your way to lose?"
Cody, already in a sour mood, couldn't resist a retort. "Save the peanut gallery comments for someone who cares, Statler." The hallway banter, laced with hatred, set the stage for a confrontation that seemed inevitable.
Seemingly equally irritable, Dominik stepped forward, exchanging heated words with Cody. The verbal sparring quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, the hallway becoming the epicentre of the longstanding feud between Outright and Judgment Day. "What's your problem, Cody?" Dominik challenged, the tension reaching a boiling point as the two teams locked horns once again. The confined space amplified the palpable hostility. Each word exchanged echoed like a war drum. The clash of egos and unresolved grievances painted the narrow hallway with an atmosphere thick with contention.
The tension in the narrow hallway reached a boiling point as Dominik, seemingly harbouring as much irritability as Cody, engaged in a verbal duel that swiftly escalated into a full-blown argument. The charged atmosphere crackled with hostility, the two teams again locking horns in a familiar dance of loathing. "What's your problem, Cody?" Dominik's challenge hung in the air, a pointed question cutting through the strained ambiance. The heat of the confrontation radiated from his words, setting the tone for the impending clash.
"You know exactly what my problem is," Cody retorted, his voice carrying the weight of his hostility. The unspoken grievances between the teams bubbled to the surface, with Cody's frustration becoming palpable. "You and your team need to learn some respect.”
Dominik, undeterred, fired back with a retort loaded with defiance. "We run Monday Night Raw. If anyone needs to learn respect, it's you," his words spat out like venom, each syllable carrying the weight of the simmering rivalry between Outright and Judgment Day.
Cody's voice resonated through the narrow hallway, charged with palpable aggression as he admonished Dominik, his pointed finger emphasizing each accusatory word. "Stay away from my teammates. Your dirty tricks do nothing but make you look like shitty people who can't win without cheating or manipulating the people around you," Cody's declaration cut through the air like a verbal gauntlet thrown between the two teams.
The tension that crackled in the verbal exchange painted a vivid picture of the longstanding animosity that fueled the rivalry between Outright and Judgment Day. The hallway, once a mere passageway, now bore witness to the raw intensity of the conflict, with each word exchanged carrying the weight of history and rivalry.
Stevie and Rhea, caught in the crossfire as bystanders, exchanged wary glances that spoke volumes about the delicate balance between their teams.
In any other circumstance, Stevie would have stood defiantly, shoulder to shoulder beside Cody, quick to counter Dominik’s jabs with an insult of her own. But, at this moment, her focus was inexplicably drawn elsewhere—specifically, to Rhea. The deliberate avoidance of eye contact by Rhea did not escape Stevie's notice. A subtle blush painted Rhea's cheeks, starkly contrasting the heated exchange surrounding them. Stevie couldn't shake the pang of guilt that surged in her stomach.
You can feel the guilt creeping in, can't you? That nagging feeling that you've betrayed the team, questioning your loyalty.
She’s so pretty. Oh god, she’s blush. Look at her blush.
Normally, you'd be right there, throwing verbal punches with Cody, adding fuel to the fire. But what's this? Your attention is drifting to Rhea’s blush? Are you an adult or some little school girl with a crush? Pathetic. She’s clearly hiding something. A subtle blush, deliberate avoidance—looks like someone's playing games.
As the charged atmosphere swirled with conflicting emotions, the unspoken complexities of Stevie's relationship with Rhea added an intricate layer to the unfolding drama. It wasn't just a clash between teams; it was a tangled web of personal dynamics, a silent dance of emotions that Stevie found herself unwittingly entangled in. The discernible intensity of the hallway skirmish now imitated the unspoken words and silent glances, revealing a chapter in the ongoing saga between Outright and Judgment Day that transcended the wrestling ring.
The hallway, a neutral space intended for transit, transformed into an arena of conflicting emotions, where alliances and rivalries danced in a delicate balance. The repercussions of Cody's admonition lingered, leaving an indelible mark on the ongoing saga between Outright and Judgment Day. Caught amid the brewing tension and lingering animosity between Outright and Judgment Day, Rhea and Stevie found themselves in an intriguing position. There was an inexplicable force, a complex undercurrent that neither woman fully comprehended, pulling them closer together. It was as if some unseen thread connected them, defying the tangible hostility surrounding them.
As the verbal sparring intensified, a charged energy filled the narrow hallway, each word a vocal blow echoing the longstanding animosity between Cody and Dominik. The tension peaked when Cody, unable to contain his frustration, threw down the gauntlet. "How about you and me settle this in the ring? One-on-one. No interference. Just us. Or are you too scared to face me alone in the ring?"
"You're on," Dominik retorted angrily and determinedly, accepting Cody's challenge with a resolve that added fuel to the brewing fire. The implications of this impromptu showdown reverberated in the air, a stark reminder of the stakes involved. If Cody and Dominik clashed in the ring, it could tip the fragile balance Rhea and Stevie had seemed to cultivate between them.
The challenge hung in the air, a decisive moment threatening to reshape the dynamics between Outright and Judgment Day. Stevie was caught in the whirlwind of unfolding events. Before she could fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, Cody had already set a course for the ring, his determined strides echoing the impending clash. Stevie exchanged one last glance with Rhea in that fleeting moment, an unspoken acknowledgment of the complex emotions swirling between them.
She’s so pretty. Don’t fight her. Talk to her. If you want to talk to her and be friends, just do it. Why do you have to follow everything Cody says?
Get yourself together! Forget about this momentary weakness, Stevie. This isn't the time for guilt or distractions. You're a fighter, a warrior. Brush off those emotions and get back in the game. Your true strength lies in conquering the ring, not getting entangled in this emotional nonsense. Don't let the complexities of relationships cloud your judgment. This is a battlefield, not a playground for feelings.
Chapter 12: We Will Rock You
Summary:
With Dominik down, Cody seized the opportunity, going for the pin. The atmosphere held its breath as Jessika Carr slid into position, her hand hovering inches above the canvas.
Chapter Text
Rhea's mind resembled a chaotic storm as she walked down to the ring flanked by Dominik, Finn, and Damian. The pulsating beats of Dominik's entrance music reverberated through the arena, setting the crowd into a frenzy. However, Rhea found herself grappling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, all revolving around Stevie.
Despite the electrifying atmosphere, Rhea couldn't shake the persistent thoughts of Stevie that occupied her mind. She tried valiantly to focus on the challenge match ahead and provide unwavering support for her team and Dominik, but it seemed as though her consciousness was tethered to Stevie's image.
Oh god, remember what you did to that video of stevie? Remember how hot she looked? And now look at her. Her gear fits her so well. Why did you hate that colour before? The pink is so pretty, it fits her perfectly.
As Outright approached the ring, the energy in the arena intensified. Cody Rhodes, accompanied by the boisterous encouragement of Sami and Kevin, made his grand entrance. The air was charged with anticipation, and Cody's trademark confidence radiated with every step he took. However, Stevie, standing at Cody's side, seemed just as adrift in her thoughts as Rhea, casting a shadow of confusion upon her face.
Sami and Kevin, as usual, hyped Cody up, shouting and patting him on the back. The camaraderie between them was palpable, creating a stark contrast to the internal turmoil experienced by both Rhea and Stevie. Cody ascended into the ring, ready for the challenge that lay ahead. On the opposite side, Dominik's gaze held unwavering determination.
The spotlight on Cody and Dominik amplified, but for Rhea and Stevie, the emotional storm within continued to brew. It was a clash not only between the two teams in the ring but also between the tumultuous thoughts and feelings that engulfed the minds of Rhea and Stevie.
Dominik's veins pulsed with justified anger, a searing determination ignited by the words Cody had flung at them in the hallway. The resentment fueled Dominik's resolve, transforming his every step into a declaration of war. Rhea, walking ringside with Finn and Damian, felt the intensity radiating from Dominik, a fire that promised an explosive showdown in the upcoming match. The team was bound by a shared commitment: victory by any means necessary.
Rhea observed her teammates, Finn and Damian, wearing expressions that mirrored Dominik's determination. The unspoken understanding among them was clear – they were not afraid to venture into underhanded tactics to secure the win for Dominik. As they approached the ring, each footfall echoing a collective vow to triumph, the air crackled with a charged tension.
In the midst of this charged atmosphere, Samantha Irvin, the embodiment of the anticipation filling the arena, took center stage with a microphone in hand. Her voice resonated through the venue, commanding attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, the challenger. Representing Outright, accompanied to the ring by Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn, and Stevie Turner. Weighing in at 220 pounds, from Marietta, Georgia, Cody Rhodes!" Cody's acknowledgment of the cheers from the crowd heightened the electric atmosphere. The cheers, however, were not solely for Cody, as the audience sensed the impending clash between two formidable teams.
"And his opponent, representing Judgment Day. Accompanied to the ring by Damian Priest, Finn Bálor, and Rhea Ripley. Weighing in at 200 pounds from San Diego, California, Dominik Mysterio!" The spotlight shifted to Dominik, who stood at the ring's precipice, embodying his team's defiance and determination. Dominik, fueled by a potent mix of determination and righteous anger, threw his arms up in a triumphant gesture, drawing a surge of cheers from the animated crowd. The arena buzzed with an electric enthusiasm, the anticipation palpable as both competitors stood on the precipice of a clash that promised intensity.
The adrenaline coursed through their veins, each heartbeat resonating with the anticipation of the impending showdown. Rhea, aware of the emotional storm raging within her, made a conscious effort to immerse herself in the moment. As Dominik elicited cheers, she strategically positioned herself to block Stevie from her line of sight, using the ring posts as a shield. It was a physical act to shield herself from the emotional whirlwind, an attempt to focus solely on the match unfolding before her.
But a subtle pang shot through Rhea as her gaze inadvertently captured a fleeting glimpse of Stevie. The moment unfolded as Stevie extended her hand to Samantha, an act of respect as Samatha navigated the descent down the ring stairs. Stevie's intent, evident in the offer to assist Samantha in steadying herself, was a gesture born out of kindness—a realization that Samantha was navigating the bumpy metal stairs in high heels. The simplicity of this act of empathy struck a chord within Rhea, invoking emotions that she was reluctant to confront.
As Stevie's hand reached out in a display of friendship to someone that most of the other wrestlers didn’t even acknowledge, a quiet yet profound discomfort settled within Rhea. It wasn't just the physical assistance; it was the underlying understanding and compassion that Stevie effortlessly conveyed. Rhea, caught off guard by the surge of emotions, found herself at a crossroads, torn between acknowledging the connection she felt and avoiding the implications of such sentiments.
The warm smile and thanks Samatha returned to stevie as she took Stevie’s hand and stepped down the stairs sent an even more confusing jolt of jealousy to Rhea’s stomach.
That should be us holding her hand, not Samatha.
Dominik is about to be in a match, and you are worrying about who Stevie’s touching? What is wrong with you? Just get your head in the game.
To shield herself from the tumultuous waves of emotion, Rhea purposefully retreated to a vantage point where her line of sight to Stevie was obstructed by the sturdy ring post. It was a deliberate act, an attempt to create a visual barrier that mirrored the emotional wall she was hastily constructing within herself. The cold, unforgiving metal of the ring post became a physical representation of the protective barrier she sought against the turbulent sea of emotions stirred by the mere glimpse of Stevie's kindness.
The bell rang, signalling the commencement of the battle. Jessika Carr, the referee positioned in the center of the ring, played her crucial role, ensuring the proceedings were official. The canvas beneath their feet felt the vibrations of the imminent clash, setting the stage for a contest of wills. In the center of the ring, the two competitors locked up, their bodies entwined in a struggle for dominance. Cody, leveraging his strength advantage, sought to back Dominik into the ropes. However, Dominik, nimble and quick, deftly slipped away, evading Cody's attempts at grappling. The dance of athleticism and strategy unfolded, creating a visual spectacle for the audience.
The momentum shifted when Dominik, displaying his aerial prowess, attempted a springboard move. Yet, Cody, showing well-trained instincts, intercepted him mid-air, seamlessly converting the maneuver into his signature Cross Rhodes. The impact reverberated through the arena, each thud echoing the intensity of the moment.
With Dominik down, Cody seized the opportunity, going for the pin. The atmosphere held its breath as Jessika Carr slid into position, her hand hovering inches above the canvas.
Rhea, on the periphery of the action, felt a surge of conflicting emotions. The sight of Dominik struggling fueled her desire for victory, yet the memory of Stevie lingered in the recesses of her mind, casting shadows over her focus. As the referee's hand hovered, she grappled not only with the physical contest in the ring but also with the internal battle that threatened to consume her.
Rhea, perched on the edge of her emotions, couldn't contain the urgency in her voice. "Dom! Kick out!" she slammed her hand on the apron, her vocal exhortation cutting through the crowd's din, an attempt to infuse Dominik with the strength to resist defeat. The collective breath of the audience held suspended, mirroring the critical moment in the ring.
To the collective surprise and rush of the spectators, Dominik, fueled by sheer determination, managed to kick out just in the nick of time. Rhea's pent-up anxiety transformed into an exhale of relief, her shoulders easing as if a weight had been lifted. The emotional rollercoaster continued, with Rhea now a vocal participant in the drama that unfolded before her.
Inside the ring, the exchange of blows intensified, each strike echoing through the arena. The canvas beneath the wrestlers absorbed the impact of their physical contest, becoming a stage for the clash of wills. Rhea's eyes fixated on the action until her attention was directed to the other Outright members ringside.
Ringside, the chaos mirrored the intensity within the ring. The verbal sparring between Kevin and Finn added a layer of hatred to the already charged atmosphere. "Get away from the apron!" Kevin's command cut through the air, a preemptive warning tinged with suspicion as he assumed Finn's proximity hinted at potential foul play.
"Shut up!" Finn's retort was laced with defiance, a direct challenge to Kevin's assumptions. The two locked eyes, their argument escalating as if it were a sideshow to the main event.
Meanwhile, Damian, not one to let the opportunity pass, seized the chance to antagonize Stevie. "Looks like your keeper is too busy to stop you this time," he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips. The verbal assault aimed at Stevie echoed through the arena, a deliberate attempt to distract her and undermine her composure.
Stevie's sarcastic retort, a verbal riposte laden with frustration, drove the fight between the teams even further. The expression of anger etched across her face was a familiar sight for Rhea, a visage that, oddly, provided a semblance of comfort amid the escalating tension.
The verbal sparring intensified as Sami Zayn, typically a bystander in such skirmishes, couldn't resist the gravitational pull of the adrenaline-laden confrontation. The roar of the crowd served as the backdrop to the unfolding argument between Sami and Damian, their voices rising in discordant harmony.
Caught in the crossfire of emotions, Stevie redirected her ire towards Rhea, her anger radiating like a storm. Rhea, unprepared for the sudden shift in focus, faced the brunt of Stevie's fury. "And I don't appreciate being used as a toy," Stevie snarled, her accusation cutting through the charged air.
Rhea, perplexed and genuinely taken aback, sought to make sense of the unexpected attack. "What?" she questioned, the confusion evident in her expression. The seemingly misplaced argument disrupted the rhythm of the chaotic scene, leaving Rhea disoriented.
Stevie's accusations hung in the air, casting a shadow of doubt over the intentions that Rhea had believed to be genuine. "I was trying to be nice. I thought that maybe if we talked a little, we wouldn't hate each other as much, but you were using me this whole time, weren't you? Stupid little Stevie, only good for getting information about my team, right? That's what you think, right?" Stevie pointed aggressively, her accusations biting into the core of Rhea's understanding.
Rhea, now genuinely puzzled, sought to disentangle the web of misunderstanding. "What are you talking about?" she queried, her confusion mirrored in her furrowed brow. The chaos around them seemed to fade momentarily as the focus shifted to the unravelling confrontation.
As Stevie's voice softened, Rhea realized the depth of the perceived betrayal. "When we talked in the locker room," Stevie continued, doubt creeping into her tone, "wasn't that what you were doing? Trying to get me to rat on my team?"
Rhea, momentarily lost in the swirling vortex of accusation, responded with genuine incredulity. "Stevie, we said like ten words to each other. And it was about our match. What information could I have possibly gotten from that?" The chaos of the wrestling world seemed to recede, leaving the two women locked in a charged silence, the weight of misunderstanding hanging heavily between them.
The unfolding scene in the arena defied the expectations of the audience. It was a brutal display of nothing but pure chaos. Inside the squared circle, the primal dance of combat played out with Cody locking Dominik in a submission hold, strategically keeping him at bay, away from the refuge of the ropes. The canvas beneath them absorbed the physical struggle, bearing the weight of a contest that had spiralled beyond the norm.
On the periphery, the chaos manifested itself in the form of Finn and Kevin, embroiled in a ringside brawl. The metallic clang of bodies meeting the barrier reverberated through the arena, punctuating the air with a discordant rhythm. Damian and Sami, too, were entangled in their scuffle, the violence escalating as Damian flung Sami onto the announce table, creating a chaotic symphony of sounds.
Amidst this tumult, Rhea and Stevie found themselves entangled in a silent standoff. The charged atmosphere seemed to cocoon them in a world of their own, the chaos around them fading into the background. Their eyes locked, each gaze laden with unspoken words, the intensity of their connection creating a visual narrative that transcended the physical strife surrounding them.
The visual tableau painted a surreal picture—the calculated brutality inside the ring, the unrestrained chaos at ringside, and the charged silence between Rhea and Stevie. The contrast was stark, the juxtaposition of violence and tension creating an atmosphere both chaotic and strangely intimate.
As the crescendo of mayhem reached its peak, Jessika Carr, the referee in the center of the storm, decided to intervene. The chaos had reached a point of no return, and she called off the match, her voice cutting through the tumult. The decision echoed through the arena, bringing a temporary hush to the cacophony of sounds.
The verdict was clear—both Cody and Dominik were disqualified, and their teams were deemed responsible for the excessive fighting at ringside. The announcement served as the final note in this chaotic symphony, leaving everyone involved to grapple with the abrupt and unexpected conclusion to a match that had become more than just a physical contest. The canvas, once a stage for combat, now bore witness to the aftermath of a clash that transcended the boundaries of a typical wrestling spectacle.
Chapter 13: Rock It
Summary:
"I don't even know," Rhea admitted with a sad chuckle. "A while ago, to be honest. I'm lucky if I get a few hours." She rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion etched in the dark circles beneath her makeup.
Chapter Text
"I can't believe they got us disqualified!" Damian's growl reverberated through the hollow space of the judgement day's green room, a symphony of frustration harmonizing with lingering disappointment hanging thick in the air. The collective scent of sweat and tension formed an olfactory backdrop, a testament to the physical and emotional toll of the match that had just concluded. The sound of metal meeting concrete resonated as the door swung shut.
Damian and Rhea helped Dominik limp into the green room, one of Dominik's arms over each other's shoulders, holding Dominik's weight up. Each step they took together mirrored the weight of their collective frustration. Dominik slumped onto the couch, nursing the pain from the submission move executed by Cody before the disqualification. The room, usually a haven for preparation, now bore witness to a tableau of emotions etched across the faces of its occupants—anger, disappointment, and confusion. Judgment Day had been disqualified, a reality that stung their pride.
Finn and Damian's accusatory gazes zeroed in on Rhea as the atmosphere simmered with resentment. Their eyes, laden with the weight of judgment, fixated on her like laser beams cutting through the stifling air. The collective hatred, a palpable force in the room, seemed to roll off Rhea as if she were impervious to the storm brewing around her. Her eyes, however, told a different story, haunted by the storm of conflicting emotions that raged within.
Dominik winced in pain as Damian helped him take off the wrestling boot. The submission hold had taken its toll on his body, but the wounds ran more profound than the physical. The sense of betrayal lingered, a bitter aftertaste that tainted the pride of Judgment Day.
The room became a microcosm of unspoken tensions, a visual representation of the strained alliances within the team. Seemingly lost in her thoughts, Rhea remained fixated on an unseen horizon. All she could think of was stevie.
She thought you were using her. She thought you would just use her like a tool and discard her like she was nothing. Has that happened to her before? Could she relate to you in that way? Trust is a delicate thing, Rhea. Can you blame her for questioning your intentions? After all, you're no stranger to using any means to achieve victory. She misunderstood, Rhea. That happens all the time. Stevie's words might reflect her fears, not your actions. She still might like you. You still have a chance.
Stop thinking about stevie! You need to focus on what's happening around you, not what stevie was talking about. You are in your green room with your team. Focus on the issue at hand!
As the locker room air became thick with frustration, the storm of emotions swirling among the teammates threatened to engulf them all. The discordant notes of blame rang out, creating a cacophony reverberating against the metal walls. Finn, fueled by a mixture of frustration and disappointment, hurled accusations at Rhea like verbal projectiles. "You stood there like a statue, Rhea!" His voice, sharp as a whip, lashed through the air, each word carrying the weight of collective resentment. "We needed you, and you just watched it unfold!"
Finn and Damian, their emotions reaching a crescendo, turned their collective ire toward Rhea. Damian's eyes flickered with anger, the flames of frustration dancing in his gaze. "What the hell, Rhea?" he thundered, the intensity of his voice matching the rising storm within the locker room. "We expected you to fight, not daydream on the sideline while we all got our asses kicked!"
Accusations, sharp as blades, sliced through the air, each word deepening the chasm of misunderstanding. Yet, as the storm raged around her, Rhea remained a distant figure, a solitary silhouette caught in the turbulent sea of her thoughts. The teammates' words, a relentless barrage of blame, became a distant murmur in Rhea's ears. However, her mind was an uproar of its own, the haunting echoes of Stevie's accusations reverberating with an intensity that eclipsed the external chaos. The world beyond her internal turmoil seemed inconsequential, the locker room fading into the background as she grappled with the shadows that loomed within.
"Rhea! Hello? We're talking to you," Damian's sharp words cut through the mental fog that enshrouded Rhea, pulling her back from the depths of her contemplation. The locker room's oppressive air bore witness to the palpable disappointment and irritation etched across the faces of her teammates.
Jolting back, Rhea faced the heavy collective disapproval in the air. She turned her attention toward Finn, the weight of his gaze bearing down on her. "Yes, I hear you," she responded, her voice carrying a tone of detachment. As her eyes darted away from Finn's, she found solace in the nondescript refuge of the ground beneath her. "Yeah, I know..." A sigh escaped her, a visible release of the internal pressure. "Look, I just..." She paused, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air. "I know. I do. It's just... I'm going through a lot right now, and my thoughts were all over the place during the match. I'm sorry, okay?"
The apology lingered in the air, a fragile bridge spanning the growing divide between Rhea and her teammates. Finn, his frustration palpable, pressed on, his words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Rhea, you were looking at Stevie. What the hell has gotten into you? You hated Stevie two weeks ago, and now, suddenly, you guys are staring at each other in trances. What did she say to you?" The intensity of Finn's question reverberated in the room, echoing the unspoken suspicions that lingered.
Rhea's head shot up, her eyes locking onto Finn's, embarrassment painting her face with a rosy hue. "It's nothing," she responded a little too quickly, the defensiveness in her tone betraying the vulnerability beneath. "Really. It won't happen again." Desperation clung to her words as she redirected her gaze, this time settling on Dominik. Attempting to shift the focus, she inquired about his well-being. "How's the leg, Dom? Do you need to go to medical?"
Brushing off the concern, Dominik assured Rhea that he would be okay with a casual dismissal. As Finn moved to attend to Dominik's needs, the weight of the unresolved tension lingered in the air. Caught in the crossfire of emotions, Rhea found herself at the epicentre of the unspoken storm, the locker room a battlefield of conflicting feelings and unaddressed questions.
As Finn busied himself retrieving the ice pack, the charged atmosphere in the locker room simmered, leaving Rhea caught in the crosscurrents of frustration and understanding. Damian, now focused solely on Rhea, became the harbinger of a momentary respite amidst the prevailing tension. His words, a blend of sternness and concern, cut through the ambient air like a lifeline thrown to a struggling soul. "Look, I get this wasn't your day. We all know that if you were focused, we would've won. But you seem... off these days," Damian acknowledged, his voice carrying the weight of collective disappointment. He sighed, a visible manifestation of the burden shared by the team. "And if it's personal, I get it, but you can't disappear during the match. We all counted on you. I counted on you." His stern and serious words hung in the air like a solemn decree.
Rhea, her fists clenched in frustration, met Damian's gaze. "Damian, I..." She took a deep breath, the air heavy with the unspoken weight of her regrets. "I know, okay? Don't you think I'm beating myself up enough already?" The shift in her tone was palpable, transitioning from frustration to a more compassionate timbre as she addressed Damian directly. "I'm sorry." Rhea's admission echoed through the room, a moment of vulnerability amidst the turmoil. "I am. I just... my head wasn't where it was supposed to be. And I know that's my fault, and I'll take full responsibility for that. But I think... I just need some time to myself." A sigh escaped her, a visible release of the internal pressure, as her eyes wandered to Finn tending to Dominik's ankle.
Damian's tone softened, his concern palpable. "When's the last time you slept a full 8 hours?"
"I don't even know," Rhea admitted with a sad chuckle. "A while ago, to be honest. I'm lucky if I get a few hours." She rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion etched in the dark circles beneath her makeup. The vulnerability in her admission laid bare the toll of the physical rigours of wrestling and the emotional turbulence that had taken residence in her restless nights.
Finn, still occupied with the ice pack on Dominik's ankle, voiced a question that cut through the ambient unease as the weight of the locker room tension hung in the air. "It's getting bad again?"
Rhea's distant and unfocused gaze wandered into the empty space behind Finn as if searching for answers in the void. "Yeah... yeah, it is," she admitted with a heavy sigh. "I-I know I don't really have an excuse, but it's like... I can't control what I'm thinking anymore. It feels like my brain has a mind of its own."
The room, still reverberating with the remnants of frustration, now bore witness to a vulnerability in Rhea's admission. Finn diligently attended to Dominik's injury, Rhea caught in the grip of her internal struggles, and the unspoken understanding among teammates cast a quiet pall over the scene.
Damian, his tone softening with concern, offered a suggestion. "Why don't you go get changed and head to your hotel? You can have the night all to yourself. We'll make sure Dominik gets back safe."
Rhea, her instinct to deflect kindness evident, began, "No, no, I'm fine—"
Smiling up at her, Dominik interjected, "Rhea, we're a team. And you are clearly running on empty. We got you."
A moment of connection and support resonated in Dominik's words, a small beacon of understanding amidst the wrestling ring's chaotic demands. Rhea's resistance melted, and a small smile played on her lips. "Yeah... I think that would be nice, to be honest. I can take a hot shower, get some food... that sounds good." The vulnerability in her expression spoke volumes, a moment of genuine appreciation for the camaraderie of her team. "I appreciate you being... y'know... understanding."
They'll see you as weak if you say that.
Sensing the unspoken turmoil, Damian patted Rhea on the back with a reassuring smile. "Don't sweat it, you've saved our asses like a million times. We can let you have a day off once in a while. Now go chill out."
"Thanks, guys," Rhea acknowledged with a deep breath, her eyes briefly meeting Finn and Damian's. The unspoken bond of understanding lingered in the air. "You sure you don't need anything else?" When the boys reassured her, she turned her attention to Dominik. "And... do you need help with anything?"
"Nah, it's fine. I'll be alright," Dominik assured her, sitting back on the sofa. Rhea ensured Finn and Damian were ready to go, a silent exchange of appreciation passing between teammates. As she made her way out of the green room, a sense of relief mingled with the lingering strains of vulnerability.
Anticipating the encounter in the locker room, Rhea braced herself for the complexity that awaited. She was aware that Stevie might harbour lingering resentment, or, in a twist of perplexity that puzzled Rhea, she might extend the olive branch once again, seeking a renewed friendship.
You say it'd be confusing, but you still really hope she does.
Chapter 14: Sheer Heart Attack
Summary:
So, for now, she kept biting the inside of her cheek and nodding, pretending to listen to Cody as she tried and failed to ignore the intrusive thoughts flowing through her brain.
Chapter Text
The oppressive weight of disqualification bore down on Stevie's shoulders, each step back to the Outright team's green room feeling like a reluctant admission of defeat. Samantha Irvin's resonant voice lingered in the recesses of Stevie's mind, her words a haunting echo reverberating through the corridors of disappointment. The collective patience of the team had been strained, the physical and mental toll of the beatings administered by their opponents leaving its mark on each member.
The green room now hung heavy with the residue of thwarted expectations. As the team settled into the dimly lit space, the air seemed saturated with the disappointment that clung to their collective endeavours. In the aftermath of the match, the room was a tableau of introspection, a silent acknowledgment of the toll exacted by the relentless physicality of the sport.
Stevie, known for her vibrancy and infectious banter, appeared like a shadow of her usual self, lost in the depths of her contemplation. The room, thick with the aftermath of their disqualification, proved powerless to stifle the storm of thoughts within her.
You see, Steviethis is all your fault. Your missteps, your inability to control the match—every bit of their disappointment rests squarely on your shoulders. You let them down, and now the weight of that defeat is pressing down on you, isn't it?
Cody, the team's charismatic leader, broke the uneasy silence with a look of disappointment, his gaze sweeping across Kevin, Sami, and Stevie. "Ok, that went to shit fast," he remarked, directing his frustration at the trio. "You two," he pointed at Kevin and Sami, "you need to rein it in about ten notches. We just talked about getting into fights ringside with Stevie."
Kevin tried to defend himself, saying, "He was going to cheat. I was helping you out."
"That's what the ref is for!" Cody retorted with an exasperated tone. "Just let the ref do their job, watch the match, and ignore everyone else. How many times will I need to tell you guys this? It’s like I have to repeat myself-" While Cody dispensed reprimands and attempted to restore order, Stevie was caught in self-blame. The internal dialogue intensified, the accusatory whispers seizing the forefront of her thoughts. She wanted to listen to Cody. She really did. But the intrusive thoughts got louder until it was practically impossible to ignore them.
Look at them; they trusted you, and you let them down. The toll of the beatings and the scars on their bodies and minds are the lasting imprints of your shortcomings. Cody's disappointment, Stevie, is directed at you, too. You, who should have been the lynchpin of the team. Look at him, reprimanding you along with the others. You're not living up to his expectations, are you? He trusted you, believed in you, and now he's questioning your ability to contribute. Your actions led to this scolding, this moment of undeniable failure in the eyes of your leader. Finn was going to cheat, Kevin said. But no, you couldn't prevent it. You were supposed to be the vigilant defender of the team's integrity. Yet, you were making googly eyes with Rhea because she was being nice. Here you are, a contributor to the chaos rather than its solution. As always.
“Stevie, are you listening to me?” Cody asked, noticing how hard she clenched her jaw and how her breath was getting quicker again.
Cody's noticing, Stevie, he sees your agitation, your inability to maintain composure. Your vulnerability is displayed, and he's questioning your focus and ability to handle the pressure. Are you letting the team down yet again?
Stevie nodded, giving a quick “mhm.” The blood was pounding in her ears. Her vision was tunnelling. She was on the verge of a breakdown within but looked slightly zoned out on the outside. If there was one thing stevie knew she could do, it was hide her emotions.
Look at you, trapped in this whirlwind of chaos. The scolding, the chaos, and now Cody's disappointment. It's all closing in, isn't it? You're teetering on the edge, reaching the end of your rope. How much more can you take?
You do not have the option to have a panic attack right now. You have to keep your composure. Just hold on a little longer. Just a little longer. When this is all over, you can go to the gym and let out the anger, panic, confusion, and sadness. A bit longer, okay?
So, for now, she kept biting the inside of her cheek and nodding, pretending to listen to Cody as she tried and failed to ignore the intrusive thoughts flowing through her brain.
Bite harder. Let the pain distract you from the storm within. Your composure is slipping, and they can all see it. Racing heart rate, the tunnel vision, oh and now your hands are numb. These are the telltale signs of your unravelling.
You’re okay
You don't have the option to break down now, do you? You're shackled to this facade of composure, forced to nod and pretend while the intrusive thoughts run rampant. You're drowning in a sea of emotions, Stevie and the gym is your only lifeline. Do you know how pathetic that sounds?
You’re so close. Cody is almost done talking. You can do this.
“Ok, I will see you guys in a few days for training,” Cody said. Stevie grabbed her bag and went to change, but Cody stopped her before she could leave. “Stevie, make sure to get some sleep tonight. You need to keep yourself rested.”
Keep yourself rested? How the fuck is that going to help me? Why don’t you tell Cody where he can stick that shitty advice. He's worried about you, Stevie. Worried that your lack of sleep will jeopardize the team, jeopardize you. The façade you've been desperately maintaining is slipping; now, even Cody sees the cracks.
Stevie acknowledged Cody's advice with a simple nod, a gesture that had become second nature in moments of detachment. The weight of his concern hung in the air, but she adeptly masked the tumult beneath her calm exterior. As Cody's parting words lingered, Stevie expressed gratitude customarily before gracefully exiting the green room.
In the sanctuary of the women's locker room, the air seemed to breathe with a sigh of solitude. The bustling energy of the arena faded into the background, and Stevie found herself in a space where she could unravel, at least temporarily. The room, dimly lit and infused with the faint scent of antiseptic, awaited her transformation from the show's character to the person behind the performance.
And, as usual, she began to hum. Whispering the lyrics she’s sung a million times to herself as light as feathers so no one else in the locker room would hear her. She was using them to keep herself together as she always did.
I've paid my dues.
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime
First came the removal of the wrestling gear, each piece unclasped and discarded with practiced efficiency. The echoes of the match reverberated in the quiet corners of the room as Stevie shed the physical remnants of the confrontation. The attire, once a symbol of strength and resilience, now lay in a discarded heap—a silent testament to the toll the match had taken.
You are shedding the layers of your performance like a snake shedding its skin. But do you really think you can escape the consequences of your failures? The discarded wrestling gear, the wiped-off makeup—they won't erase today's disappointments.
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand
Kicked in my face
But I've come through
Turning her attention to the makeup mirror, Stevie confronted her reflection. The remnants of the show's vibrant facade adorned her face—bold colours accentuating fierce eyes and firm contours that spoke of a character she embodied for the audience. The process of unmasking herself began, wiping away the layers of makeup that concealed the vulnerability beneath.
Wipe away the colours, Stevie, but can you wipe away the stains on your reputation as quickly as that lipstick? The audience may not see your vulnerability, but you can't hide from the truth reflected in that mirror.
And we mean to go on and on and on and on.
Each swipe of the makeup remover felt like peeling away a layer of armour, exposing the raw authenticity beneath the stage persona. The harsh lights of the wrestling ring left no room for imperfections, but in the quiet solitude of the locker room, Stevie confronted her unadorned self. The echoes of the crowd's cheers and the clash of bodies in the ring became distant memories as she delved into the intimacy of this metamorphic ritual.
We are the champions, my friends.
And we'll keep on fighting till the end.
Her fingers, deft and practiced, combed through her hair, unravelling the meticulously styled locks that had danced in the spotlight. Once a symbol of showmanship, the hair tie now found its place on the counter as Stevie's hair cascaded freely—a visual metaphor for unravelling the performative self.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
The quiet sanctuary of the locker room provided a haven for Stevie to shed the layers of her wrestling persona, allowing her to confront the person beneath the character. The process was not just physical; it was a cathartic release, a shedding of the external expectations and the weight of the performance. As the last remnants of makeup were wiped away and the wrestling gear neatly folded, stevie put all her stuff away in her duffle bag.
'Cause we are the champions of the World.
Stevie took a deep breath and picked up her bag. She knew Cody had told her to go to bed, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. So, as usual, she picked up her bag and headed out of the arena and to the gym, putting on her headphones and letting the music block out the rest of the world to give herself just a minute to breathe in peace.
Chapter 15: Crash Dive On Mingo City
Summary:
It was now 3 in the morning, and she was still running.
Chapter Text
Stevie's desperate run on the treadmill persisted, the machine groaning beneath the relentless assault of her pounding feet. The once serene atmosphere of the gym now crackled with the intensity of her internal struggle. The treadmill's digital display blurred into a countdown, a futile attempt to outrun the haunting echoes of disappointment and doubt.
The gym was empty. But that was not a shock. After getting there a little after midnight, stevie had done her everyday workout routine that Cody had designed for her, but it didn't dampen the racing thought. So she had decided to do her go-to when things were nasty, running as fast as she could on the treadmill for as long as possible. It was now 3 in the morning, and she was still running.
Ragged gasps escaped Stevie as she pushed her body to the limit, beads of sweat streaming down her face, soaking into her t-shirt. The rhythmic pounding that had momentarily drowned out intrusive thoughts now seemed to amplify them.
You can't outrun your failures, Stevie. They'll always catch up to you no matter how fast you go. But how can they not? There are so many of them.
Stevie's frenetic sprint on the treadmill continued. The machine groaned beneath the relentless assault. Her breaths, now ragged and desperate, carved through the air as she pushed her body to its limits. Beads of sweat formed rivulets, tracing paths down her flushed face. Her skin burned, each drop falling off her face, seeping into her shirt and leggings.
Look at you, soaked in the evidence of your desperation. The harder you run, the clearer it becomes that you're running in circles, chasing an illusion of redemption.
The gym's atmosphere shimmered with the kinetic energy of her struggle, each stride on the treadmill imprinting a visual echo of her determination and desperation. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows, emphasizing the contours of her contorted expression. The treadmill itself, an unforgiving adversary, bore witness to the tumultuous dance between Stevie's relentless drive and the weight of her internal demons.
With every gasp for breath, you're inhaling the stench of your own inadequacies. Your sweat is a testament to the futile effort to cleanse yourself of the mistakes you've made.
Stevie's figure became a silhouette against whirring machinery and muted gym equipment in this visually charged battleground. The interplay of light and shadow accentuated the physical toll of her escape attempt, her attempt to outrun the spectres of failure.
See how the treadmill spins, Stevie? Much like the relentless cycle of your failures. It's an inescapable loop; no matter how fast you run, you'll always find yourself back where you started.
As she raced against time on the treadmill, the gym's visual landscape mirrored the tumult within Stevie. It was a cinematic sequence of perseverance, desperation, and the palpable struggle etched across every contour of her being.
Your struggle, it's a spectacle, Stevie—a performance of desperation and self-flagellation. The audience is not just the cold metal machines but the judgmental eyes of your conscience.
She reached and turned the treadmill's speed up, forcing herself to go faster. The machine below her groaned again, mirroring the tumult within Stevie's mind, but Stevie's headphones blocked out the sound of everything else but the music she was blasting to try and distract her from what the burning in her lungs couldn't. Her legs, burdened by the weight of internal turmoil, faltered. In a moment of sheer exhaustion and vulnerability, she stumbled. The merciless treadmill, now an unforgiving foe, refused to yield.
With a jolt, Stevie's foot missed its step, and the rhythm of the treadmill turned chaotic. In a heart-stopping second, she lost control, arms flailing as she tumbled forward. The gym's white noise transformed into a symphony of panic as Stevie crashed into the treadmill belt, the moving surface shooting her backwards. She was sent flying back into a poorly placed weight rack behind her. The impact is a jarring punctuation to her desperate attempt at escape.
"Mother fucker” stevie groaned as she pushed the dumbbell off her face. Stevie lay on the cold gym floor, disoriented and breathless. The treadmill, now still, seemed to mock her with its unyielding surface. The gym's stillness replaced the rhythmic whirring, a stark contrast to the frantic escape she had sought.
As she lay there, battered and bruised, staring at the ceiling. She let herself laugh a little. She was alone. No one had seen. She was safe from humiliation, at least. This would just be a funny story to tell later.
But as she slowly pulled herself up, putting the dumbbells and weights back on the small rack she had crashed into.
She tasted the blood from her split lip and saw a nasty bruise on her ribs. Blood was also trickling down her legs and arm from scrapes on her knees and elbow. She knew she couldn't go to Sami, Kevin, or Cody. They wouldn't understand, and it would just start more problems. And it was 3 in the morning. No one else would be up. But she needed to get someone to help her with her ribs.
You could go to Rhea, she said she has insomnia. She could help you.
She's not going to help you. She hates you.
She'll help you. She's in this hotel. We're all in this hotel. She's just a few floors up.
"Am I really doing this?" she whispered to herself, but she was already walking out of the small hotel fitness center and towards the elevators.
Chapter 16: Feelings, Feelings
Summary:
“Rhea chuckled. “Just a fall? You look like someone threw you down the stairs.” She said jokingly, trying to break the tension she was so uncomfortable with.
Chapter Text
After an eventful night at the ring where Rhea had not encountered Stevie in the locker room, she had made a few assumptions—chief among them being that Stevie was still harbouring resentment. Seeking solace in the confines of her hotel room, Rhea embarked on a self-care journey. A delectable aroma wafted through the air as she pampered herself, donning a face mask that clung to her skin like a comforting second layer. The room echoed with the sounds of a meticulous nail painting session and the squelchy squish of deep conditioner being massaged into her hair. The pièce de résistance came in the form of a luxurious bubble bath—an oasis of warmth where Rhea lingered until her fingers were delightfully wrinkled and her muscles surrendered to a pliability akin to playdough. In a rare moment of whimsy, though she'd never admit it, Rhea indulged in a few bubble beards and fashioned her hair into a mohawk using the conditioner.
Now, nestled in her usual pyjamas, Rhea lay in bed, the remnants of her spa night lingering like a fragrant afterglow. The television played some forgettable late-night reality show, its mindless chatter serving as background noise. Yet, her gaze was fixed on the ceiling, where abstract patterns seemed to dance in the low light. In this oasis of tranquillity, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peaceful stillness—an unanticipated knock at the door, resonating sharply in the stillness of her hotel room at the untimely hour of 3 a.m. Rhea, unprepared for any visitor, found herself startled from her reverie.
Opening the door unravelled an unexpected tableau. Stevie, whose presence Rhea hadn't anticipated, stood on the threshold, the dim hallway lights etching her silhouette against the backdrop. Her usually carefree demeanour was shown by the same crooked smile she always wore, but it carried a nuanced layer of pain tonight. Leaning on the door frame, Stevie's dishevelled appearance suggested a recent encounter with gravity, as if she had just faced-planted into a world of troubles. The grimace of discomfort across her face was palpable, starkly contrasting the customary cheerfulness Rhea associated with her rival. Clad in gym clothes that seemed to accentuate the signs of her physical toll, Stevie greeted Rhea with a nonchalant, "Hey, princess." One hand nursed sore ribs, while the other wiped a bloody lip on the sleeve of her dark red baggy hoodie—a visual testament to Stevie's unforeseen challenges in her nocturnal journey to Rhea's door.
"Stevie, what in God's name are you—" Rhea's voice sliced through the air, a cocktail of concern and disbelief palpable in her tone. As her eyes fell upon her rival, Stevie's dishevelled state elicited a spectrum of emotions within Rhea. An unexpected wave of familiarity washed over her as if witnessing a scene reminiscent of her moments. Instead of the clang of metal in a bar fight and the taste of bloodied knuckles, she recognized the echoes of intense gym sessions, sweat-soaked workout gear, and the relentless pursuit of physical exhaustion. Recent nights had seen Rhea immersing herself in the sanctuary of the gym, pushing her body to its limits to drown out the din of wrestling championships, the weighty expectations placed upon her, and the relentless demands of WWE. In Stevie's dishevelled appearance, Rhea glimpsed a mirror image of her own struggles. "What happened to you?" she asked, concern deepening as she recognized the silent battles etched into every drop of sweat.
"Just a little fall," Stevie laughed, meeting Rhea's gaze with a calm demeanor. "Nothing I can't handle."
Rhea chuckled, attempting to infuse a lighthearted note into the conversation. "Just a fall? You look like someone threw you down the stairs," she quipped, hoping to dispel some of the tension in the air.
"You're not as far off as you'd think," Stevie laughed in response, the sound carrying an undertone of shared understanding. "Could you patch me up, maybe? You do kinda owe me one." Stevie's smile, which once frustrated Rhea, now held a strange power, working its charm on Rhea just as effectively as it did on everyone else.
Sighing and rolling her eyes, Rhea gestured for Stevie to enter. "Sure, come in." She guided Stevie further into the room. "What exactly happened that you needed to get thrown down the stairs?" Rhea inquired, a slight smile playing on her lips as she retrieved her first aid kit from her bag. Unbeknownst to Stevie, Rhea had acquired the kit just after Stevie's assistance in the locker room two weeks ago, harbouring a silent hope that the favour would be called in.
"I didn't get thrown down the stairs," Stevie responded with another breathy laugh, attempting to conceal a slight limp as she navigated into Rhea's hotel room. "I tripped on the treadmill and got rocketed into a weight rack."
"Sit down right here. Let me clean you up," Rhea said, her voice carrying a mix of concern and compassion. Taking out alcohol and bandages, she prepared to tend to Stevie's injuries. The dim hotel room provided a subdued backdrop for the impending makeshift medical attention. Stevie, sporting a split lip and various scrapes on her limbs, gingerly sat on the bed where Rhea gestured, wincing with every movement. Rhea's demeanour exhibited a newfound lightness, a joking tone reserved for moments shared uniquely with Stevie.
"So, why'd you choose to ruin my night?" Rhea inquired, her words carrying a teasing edge as she cleaned the cuts on Stevie's elbow. "What about your teammates?"
"You're the only one I knew would be up," Stevie responded, wincing again as Rhea diligently tended to her wounds, "even if we hate each other." As Stevie glanced up at Rhea, the pain etched on her face was unmistakable. Despite the customary tension between them, Rhea gently cleaned Stevie's forehead cut, an unspoken understanding weaving between them. "I think one of those stupid weights got my ribs," Stevie explained, lifting her shirt to reveal a burgeoning bruise on her side.
Rhea examined it for a moment, then sighed. "I'll need to patch that up." She wrapped bandages around Stevie's ribs with care, mindful of minimizing any additional discomfort. "How did this even happen?"
"I don't know. One minute, I was in a full-out sprint, jamming out to my music and living my Dauntless fantasy, and the next, I was lying on the ground," Stevie recounted with a smile, though it was tinged with a hint of pain.
"I'm going to be real with you. I wish I were there to see it," Rhea admitted, her joking tone an attempt to diffuse the tension.
Stevie laughed in response. "You're such a bitch." The banter flowed effortlessly between them, and for a moment, they conversed like old friends, a strangely pleasant departure from their usual dynamic. "Thanks, princess," Stevie said, the usually irksome nickname sounding almost affectionate. Sighing, she closed her eyes, expressing regret, "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."
"Oh, please, I wasn't doing anything. What? Did you think I was banging some wrestler or a fanboy? You wish. I don't have time for that," Rhea smirked, leaning against the wall.
Stevie laughed, trying to alleviate some of the stress by stretching her back. "Oh God, I need a shower," she sighed.
"I can tell. You nearly started dripping on this carpet as soon as you walked in," Rhea teased, the humour serving as a momentary distraction.
Stevie sighed again, her smile fading slightly. "Oh my God," she murmured.
"So, are you going to tell me why you were running at 3 in the morning?" Rhea's face softened further, Stevie's situation resonating with her personally. "What happened, Stevie?"
"I don't know," Stevie confessed, rubbing her temples. "I just... couldn't take it anymore, I guess. Cody's on my ass constantly about getting the championship, and I'm training nonstop, yet I can't seem to beat you. And now I'm all confused because we're friends but also rivals." Stevie looked back up at Rhea. "I just didn't feel good enough to be on the team, in WWE, to be who I am. I guess I tried to prove to everyone I was. Even if it nearly got me broken ribs," she added with a sad chuckle. "I just wanted to feel something that wasn't hating myself for a few minutes, you know?" The pain seemed to loosen Stevie's tongue, and Rhea could sense she had harboured these feelings for a while.
Rhea looked at her with a blank and shocked expression. Stevie had never opened up to anyone like this, and now she was pouring her heart out to Rhea. Sympathy, a feeling Rhea rarely experienced, tugged at her. "Yeah... I do," Rhea said, her tone softening.
Stevie nodded, words failing her as the endorphins from the workout faded, her situation returning to her. The weight lowered back onto Stevie's shoulders, and Rhea grappled with the unfolding emotions. What an unfortunate coincidence—a situation that they both could relate to. As the extra hormones began to leave Stevie's system, the wounds from the fall started to hurt more. "So yeah, I went for a run, fell on my face," she said, rubbing her forehead, "and now, I feel just as shitty as before, just now I'm making a fool of myself by coming here and telling you all my problems as if you give a shit," Stevie chuckled sardonically.
Rhea chuckled, too, fully aware of the peculiar nature of their situation. "Stevie... do you want to... stay here for the night? I'm not exactly sure if you'll even be able to stand and walk..."
Maybe that could make her feel a bit better.
"You can use my shower if you want. I can lend you some clothes," Rhea offered.
Stevie nodded her reluctance to show her emotion forgotten in this time of weakness. "Thank you, Rhea." It was the first time Stevie had called Rhea by her real name in a while, and Rhea had to push down the butterflies it gave her.
Rhea nodded. "No problem," she said with a soft smile.
Taking Stevie's hand, Rhea helped her stand up, guiding her into the bathroom. As Stevie turned on the shower, Rhea retrieved a towel. Just as the steam began filling the bathroom, Rhea smiled again at Stevie. "Take your time. I'll be right outside if you need anything," Rhea said softly, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door to give Stevie the time she needed.
Chapter 17: Save Me
Summary:
"Is that good?" she inquired, the subtle vulnerability of uncertainty softening her features.
Chapter Text
As Stevie emerged from the bathroom, a subtle transformation had taken place. The turmoil that marked her earlier appearance seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a quiet calmness. Rhea couldn't help but acknowledge the shift, and as her eyes traced the contours of Stevie's form, a realization settled—an undeniable appreciation for Stevie's presence.
Moonlight cast a gentle glow, playing upon the interplay of shadows and light in the room. Rhea's oversized shirt draped effortlessly over Stevie's frame, creating an alluring silhouette. Wet strands of hair clung to Stevie's skin, a testament to the recent shower, and a delicate, ethereal quality enveloped her in the dimly lit space.
The freckles on Stevie's skin seemed to dance in the moonlight, creating an intricate pattern that drew Rhea's gaze. There was a particular vulnerability in the quiet aftermath, a shared moment bathed in the soft radiance of the night.
"You feel better?" Rhea inquired, her voice gentle as she observed Stevie settling onto the bed beside her. The room held a hushed intimacy, amplifying the details Rhea had noticed—a subtle fusion of vulnerability and allure that Stevie exuded.
A soft chuckle escaped Stevie's lips as she settled onto the bed beside Rhea. The room seemed to exhale a collective sigh, embracing the newfound tranquillity. Stevie pulled her knees toward her chest with a genuine smile, wrapping her arms around them in a protective embrace. The moonlight played delicately on her features, and an unspoken connection lingered in the air in this quiet interlude.
"Much better, thank you," Stevie responded, her voice conveying relief. The laughter lingered in the room like a shared secret, a bond forged in the unexpected vulnerability of the night. As Stevie spoke, her words held a note of realization, a moment of clarity born from the experience she had just emerged from.
"And I finally understand why you always smell so good," Stevie confessed, her words weaving a thread of familiarity between them. Rhea's subtle but captivating scent had now found a home on Stevie from the borrowed shirt. The revelation held a touch of playfulness as if uncovering a hidden mystery had brought a newfound sense of closeness.
Rhea's eyes widened slightly, the flicker of curiosity dancing across her features. The moonlight, filtering through the half-drawn curtains, cast gentle shadows on the contours of her face. Rhea's eyebrow arched inquisitively, framing eyes that held a mixture of surprise and amusement. The dim glow of the bedside lamp played on the strands of Rhea's hair, creating an almost ethereal halo.
"You do?" Rhea's voice, a gentle melody in the tranquillity of the room. The shirt she had lent Stevie draped comfortably on her rival's frame, the fabric a bridge between their worlds. The atmosphere between them shimmers with a newfound intimacy, a connection forged through shared laughter and the subtle scent that lingered in the air.
Rhea leaned back slightly, her silhouette etched against the backdrop of the dim room. The corners of her lips curled into a bemused smile, inviting Stevie to elaborate on the revelation. The interplay of shadows and light revealed the unspoken curiosity in Rhea's eyes as if she were unravelling a delightful mystery.
"It's because you use all these fancy-smelling soaps and products," Stevie revealed, her laughter becoming a melody of shared amusement. The moonbeams, playing hide-and-seek with the shadows, framed their camaraderie as a nocturnal masterpiece. Stevie's laughter rippled through the room, blending with the soft cadence of the night. The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a subtle glow on their impromptu bonding. Rhea, too, was caught in the moment's infectious joy. "Like seriously, you have a whole Sophora in your bathroom. I love it," stevie chuckled.
"I like to smell good. Is that a crime?" Rhea inquired teasingly, her expression a canvas of confidence and amusement. The room absorbed the pleasure, turning their exchange into a nocturnal symphony.
"No, whatever you're doing, it's working. You smell like…" Stevie, ensconced in Rhea's borrowed shirt, took a moment to inhale the curated fragrance. The air seemed to shimmer with the olfactory description stevie gave. "Like Rain... and autumn... coffee... and a little like the feeling of putting on a fresh pair of those fluffy reading socks from Indigo," Stevie declared, her words hanging in the air like perfumed whispers. The room, now an aromatic tapestry, unfolded in Rhea's gaze.
Confusion furrowed Rhea's brow, her smirk giving way to genuine curiosity. "Is that good?" she inquired, the subtle vulnerability of uncertainty softening her features.
"It's immaculate," Stevie replied, her laughter again punctuating the air. Their shared amusement became a fragrance, an invisible bond woven with threads of humour and newfound camaraderie. The room, now steeped in the scent of Rhea's intricate concoction, transformed into a haven of connection.
Rhea's voice, carrying a blend of amusement and genuine acknowledgment, resonated through the room like a low, melodic hum. As she leaned back against the headboard, the ambient moonlight cast subtle shadows, creating a tranquil backdrop for their candid exchange. "You're a very odd person, Stevie. But I think I'm starting to like you," Rhea confessed, her words hanging in the air with a note of openness. Once charged with rivalry, the atmosphere embraced the prospect of newfound connection.
"And you're very odd, too," Stevie countered, her laughter interweaving with the moonlit serenity. She held Rhea's gaze, a moment of unspoken recognition passing between them. "And I think I'm starting to like you too. I guess we're not rivals anymore," Stevie declared, her laughter an echo of the camaraderie blossoming in the room. The tension that had defined their interactions dissipated, leaving behind the refreshing scent of acceptance and newfound connection.
The room held a quiet tension, a delicate pause that enveloped Rhea as she prepared to unravel the thoughts that had lingered like shadows in the corners of her mind. She could feel the weight of the unspoken, and as Stevie settled beside her, cross-legged and fully attentive, the moonlit ambiance seemed to amplify the significance of the impending conversation.
"Then, can I ask you something?" Rhea's voice, usually assertive, now carried a nuanced vulnerability. It was a moment of introspection, an uncharted territory for someone who had grown accustomed to the fierce dynamics of the wrestling world.
"Shoot," Stevie responded, her body language signalling an openness to whatever inquiry Rhea harboured. As Stevie turned to face her, her eyes bore into Rhea's, a shared gaze that traversed beyond the physical room. The silence hung in the air, resonating with the unspoken stories and untold secrets that connected them in that quiet moment.
"Why did you think I was using you?" Rhea's voice carried a subtle tremor, a vulnerability that sought refuge in the honesty of the moment. As Stevie's eyes momentarily looked away, the transience of her fading smile hinted at the complexities underlying her emotions. The air between them held the weight of unspoken assumptions, ready to be dispelled or confirmed.
"Cody and Kevin- when I told them, they kinda freaked out a bit. They said you were trying to use me for information or something. And..." Stevie's words trailed off, guilt creeping back into the lines of her expression. It was as if the room's walls bore witness to the struggle within her, a narrative unfolding in the silent interplay of emotions.
"You didn't think about it?" Rhea offered, her voice gentle, a lifeline extended to Stevie in hopes that she didn't perceive Rhea as a heartless antagonist. The vulnerability in Stevie's admission painted a poignant picture of someone caught in the crossfire of past betrayals.
"No, I didn't. I just kinda panicked because it's happened before," Stevie sighed, her apology tinged with self-reflection. "I'm sorry this must sound so stupid—"
"It's not stupid, Stevie," Rhea interjected, her hand instinctively finds its way to rest upon Stevie's, a gesture that transcended the boundaries of their rivalry. The moonlit room, a silent witness, held the unspoken echoes of shared experiences and the understanding from scars etched in the pursuit of dreams. "People have done that to me, too." The admission, a bridge between their pasts, sought to dismantle the walls that misconception had erected. "Once it happens once, you feel like it's going to happen again and again. And you can't trust anyone or your emotions. It's the worst." Rhea sighs.
"You actually weren't trying to use me?" Stevie's question carried an undertone of vulnerability as if she were cautiously navigating the treacherous terrain of trust. Rhea could sense the weight of her words, the fragility of hope blossoming in her eyes.
"No, I wasn't. I was just talking," Rhea responded, her nonchalant shrug underscoring the simplicity of her intentions. Her words, delivered with casual honesty, sought to dissolve any lingering doubts that had found refuge in Stevie's mind. "Plus, if anyone were trying to get the other to spill the beans on their team's plans, it'd be you. You were the one getting all sappy and saying I did a good job."
Stevie chuckled, the tension easing from her features. "I regret asking now, princess."
"Yet, you still did, sweetie." Rhea's retort, laced with playful banter, formed a bridge between their contrasting dynamics. The moonlit room bore witness to the interplay of their words as if each utterance held the promise of understanding and camaraderie yet to be fully realized.
As the laughter between the two women danced in the air, Rhea felt an unspoken urge to bridge the gap, to traverse the space that separated them. The genuine exchange had created a shared moment of vulnerability, an unexpected connection that lingered in the moonlit ambiance of the room.
With a subtle shift, Rhea inched closer to Stevie, a silent invitation for an unspoken closeness. The lines between rivals and newfound companions blurred in the gentle glow, and Rhea couldn't help but marvel at the way Stevie's laughter had transformed the atmosphere. In the hushed intimacy of the hotel room, where vulnerability and camaraderie coexisted, the uncharted territory between them beckoned to be explored.
Stevie inched closer to Rhea, too. The room goes quiet as their laughter fades, and their tension is much more noticeable. But now, it was a tension the two were mostly unfamiliar with. The tension between them was far more intimate. The air seemed charged with an unspoken understanding, and the space between them seemed to shrink as if drawn together by an invisible force.
The moonlight, now a gentle witness to their proximity, painted a subtle glow on the contours of their faces. Stevie's eyes met Rhea's with a mixture of curiosity and newfound connection. Once a backdrop to laughter and revelations, the room now promised a different kind of intimacy.
Rhea, too, felt the palpable tension, the uncharted territory between rivals evolving into something more complex. The camaraderie forged in shared vulnerabilities lingered, intertwining with the unfamiliar intimacy in the air.
The shift in dynamics was undeniable, and Rhea couldn't help but wonder at the unspoken currents that brought them closer. It was a tension that resonated with the unexplored possibilities of connection—a delicate dance between rivalry and the emergence of something beyond.
"Rhea…" Stevie's voice was quiet and breathy. Her eyes were glued to Rhea's lips as she trailed off.
"Mhm?" Rhea responded, very acutely aware of just how close their faces were now. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, and the moonlight painted a delicate sheen on the subtle contours of their expressions. A shared moment unfolded in the serenity, leaving unspoken questions lingering in the space between them.
"We really shouldn't…" stevie trailed off again. The room hung in a suspended moment, the air thick with a palpable tension that seemed to intensify as Stevie spoke. Her words, a hesitant admission, reverberated through the quietude, creating a delicate symphony of restraint. In the dimly lit space, Rhea could sense the internal struggle within Stevie's voice, as if the weight of their proximity clashed with the rational realization that they really shouldn't. It wasn't just a statement of restraint; it was a nuanced dance between desire and the awareness of the boundaries they were skirting.
As Stevie trailed off, Rhea felt the magnetic pull between them, the unspoken energy crackling in the charged air. The room seemed to shrink, the confines of the hotel space amplifying the unexplored territories of their connection. Rhea's gaze lingered on Stevie, trying to decipher the emotions that played across her features. There was a vulnerability in Stevie's voice, a rawness that hinted at a struggle with desires that transcended the constraints of rational thought.
Rhea, too, felt the magnetic allure, the intoxicating blend of the forbidden and the tempting. The subtleties of Stevie's tone didn't escape her; it was a voice caught between the pull of undeniable attraction and the rational acknowledgment of the situation. As their eyes locked, Rhea found herself navigating the uncharted waters of a moment pregnant with unspoken possibilities. It was a delicate balance between acknowledging the magnetic pull and adhering to the logical reasons why they really shouldn't.
In that suspended moment, Rhea's own emotions were a whirlwind. The desire, the curiosity, and the lingering tension mingled with a pragmatic understanding of the complexities that their current dynamic posed. As Stevie's voice echoed in the room, Rhea found herself torn between the magnetic draw of intimacy and the rational considerations that seemed to beg for restraint.
It was a juncture where every word held the weight of unspoken agreements, a crossroads where the acknowledgment of desire stood in stark contrast to the rational refrain of 'shouldn't.' When it came, Rhea's voice carried a measured tone that mirrored the intricate dance between the tempting allure and the cautious restraint. "Maybe you're right," she replied a hint of a smirk playing on her lips, the flicker of an unspoken understanding lingering in her eyes. The room, caught in the moment's tension, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next move in this delicate dance of desire and restraint.
In that suspended moment, Stevie's gaze traced a fleeting path down to Rhea's lips, a silent acknowledgment of a desire that seemed to outweigh the initial resolve. The air shimmered with anticipation as Stevie, for a brief second, let her guard down, allowing the magnetic pull between them to unravel the threads of restraint.
Rhea's eyes, like twin witnesses to the unspoken tension, followed Stevie's gaze. The room transformed into a canvas of unexplored possibilities in that shared exchange. Stevie's momentary hesitation was palpable, the internal struggle evident in the subtle nuances of her expression. In that fleeting second, it was as if the resolve that held her back had begun to yield to the undeniable allure that lingered in the charged atmosphere.
And then, in a breathy whisper that carried the weight of surrender, Stevie uttered, " Maybe I'm not. " The words hung in the air, a confession that seemed to bypass reason and embrace the intoxicating pull of desire. The resolve that had initially marked her eyes began to melt away, leaving a vulnerability that mirrored the uncharted territory they were stepping into.
With a deliberate motion, Stevie leaned forward, closing the gap between them. The room, bathed in the soft glow of uncertainty, witnessed the culmination of the tension that had been building—an intimate convergence that transcended the 'shouldn'ts' and ventured into the unexplored realms of connection. As their lips met, the air seemed to crackle with the unspoken understanding that, in this suspended moment, they were stepping into a new chapter where desire and vulnerability converged in a delicate dance.
Chapter 18: A Human Body
Summary:
"I need you so badly right now," Rhea whispered breathlessly, sending shivers down Stevie's spine.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The kiss, an electric symphony of desire, unfolded like a scene plucked from the dreams of romantics and etched into the very fabric of Stevie's imagination. It was as if the universe conspired to choreograph this moment, weaving strands of longing and inevitability into the very essence of the encounter. Each brush of Rhea's lips against Stevie's felt like a crescendo of emotions, a masterpiece painted with the hues of passion.
In the realms of Stevie's musings, movie kisses could only aspire to capture the essence of this reality. The taste of authenticity lingered in the air, dispelling any lingering doubt that this was not a fragment of some fanciful daydream. It was a tangible connection, a manifestation of desires too potent to be confined within the boundaries of mere fantasy.
Rhea's lips, a revelation in their own right, met Stevie's in a dance that transcended the ordinary. They became vessels of shared secrets, exchanging unspoken promises in the language only lovers comprehend. The sensation, almost surreal in intensity, was like a novel unfolding, each chapter resonating with the whispers of unexplored passion.
The touch of Rhea's hand on the back of Stevie's neck was a testament to the tenderness that underscored the enthusiasm of the moment. It was a touch that spoke of an understanding beyond words, a tactile affirmation of the connection that burgeoned between them. In the language of physicality, Rhea's touch became a metaphor for the uncharted territories they were venturing into—a touch that brushed against the edges of vulnerability and desire.
As the kiss deepened, the room seemed to fade into the background, and time became an abstract concept, irrelevant in the face of the unfolding intimacy. Each heartbeat resonated with the rhythm of their shared passion, and the world outside became a mere echo of the intensity that blossomed within the sphere of their connection. The kiss, a living, breathing entity, wove a narrative of exploration and surrender, a testament to the magnetic pull that defied the constraints of reality.
The momentum of their kiss, once ignited, became an unstoppable force, as if Rhea and Stevie had tapped into a wellspring of desire that defied restraint. It was a taste, a mere morsel, of the sustenance they had been unwittingly starving for, each movement against the other's lips an appetizer that whetted the appetite for a banquet of shared passion.
Rhea pulled Stevie close and wrapped her slender arms around her waist, drawing her into a tantalizing embrace. Stevie's senses were instantly overwhelmed by the closeness of Rhea's body, her hands slowly inching towards Stevie's hips as if seeking to caress every inch of her skin. The air was heavy with anticipation as their gazes locked and their mouths inched towards each other until, finally, their tongues began to tangle, the taste of each other's saliva slowly flooding Stevie's mouth. It felt like a dream as their breath shared breath, hot and nearly running out, the two so reluctant to break the kiss.
Once dormant, the hunger roared to life with an insatiable need. They had broken the barriers of restraint, and the flavour of connection lingered on their lips, a tantalizing echo of the fulfillment they craved. It was as though they had discovered a feast in each other, a reservoir of emotions that had long yearned for expression.
The dance of their lips and the intertwining of their beings were no longer confined to the realm of a singular moment. It was a progression, a journey from tasting to indulging—a gradual descent into the depths of shared longing. The kiss, a prelude to the feast, became a symphony of desire, each note resonating with an urgency that begged to be answered.
In this clandestine banquet of intimacy, time lost its significance, and the world outside ceased to exist. Rhea and Stevie, entangled in the throes of this newfound connection, were driven by a voracity that mirrored the depth of their unspoken cravings. The hunger, once dormant, now manifested as an unquenchable thirst for the unexplored territories that lay before them.
As the two women's tongues swirled in an ecstatic dance of passion, Stevie found herself engulfed by a tidal wave of feeling. Rhea's movements were like a bewitching spell, pulling Stevie deep into a whirlpool of desire and pleasure. Stevie's whole body grew hot as she responded to Rhea's kiss, her heart racing from the growing intensity of their heated embrace. As Stevie's lips shifted from Rhea's lips to her neck, Rhea let out a moan of pleasure as she pulled Stevie closer, feeling her passion consume her entire being.
"I need you so badly right now." Rhea's voice was breathy and sent shivers down Stevie's spine. Stevie felt a wave of pleasure crash over her as Rhea whispered those words, the heat of their kiss and the passionate touch of their bodies igniting a fire within her that continued to burn brighter with each touch. Stevie's heart raced as she responded to Rhea's desire, her passion rising to meet the intensity and hunger she felt in Rhea's touch.
They were no longer content with the taste; they craved the fullness of connection, the immersive experience of shared desire. The hunger that had lingered in the recesses of their hearts, aching and unspoken, now found its voice in the enthusiasm of their shared exploration. Rhea and Stevie, entwined in the dance of their desires, were poised on the brink of a feast—a feast that promised to satiate the hunger that had long defined their solitude.
As if the desire she felt was too much for her to bear, Rhea tightened her grip on Stevie's hips, rolling them, suddenly flipping their positions. Rhea was now on top, her hips pressed against Stevie's, her one arm holding herself up while her free hand continued to roam Stevie's body. "You didn't think I'd let you be on top, did you?" Rhea teased, a playful expression on her face as she took in Stevie's shocked reaction. Stevie couldn't help but feel a rush of heat at Rhea's teasing voice and her bold move.
Stevie was lost in a sea of desire as she gazed into Rhea's eyes. The words she had rehearsed seemed to vanish from her mind as her breath hitched. Each glance between them carried unspeakable emotions, the intensity of their connection pushing her into a place of pure sensuality. "Rhea~" Stevie's mind was consumed with lust, and her body trembled with desire as she spoke Rhea's name in a soft whisper.
"Mhm?" Rhea hummed, beginning to trail down stevie neck, littering slight marks and love bites as she went, while her hand pulled at Stevie's shirt, pulling at the hem, glancing back up at Stevie for the go-ahead. Stevie's body arched in response, her heart beating furiously as her breath grew short. Stevie nodded her head in approval, giving Rhea permission to remove her shirt, and she eagerly gave in to the passion that had been building between them. As Rhea pulled Stevie's shirt off, Stevie felt the air rush against her skin, her body coming alive in lew the storm of pleasure that was about to engulf her.
As Rhea's eyes travelled down Stevie's body, her breath caught in her throat, and she looked almost like she was in awe of every rise and fall of Stevie's chest in the moonlight. The dim light of the moonlight provided a sensual backdrop as Stevie's breathing sped up and her body quivered in anticipation. Rhea seemed speechless momentarily as her eyes drank in Stevie's lithe form, her words sending a surge of excitement throughout Stevie's body. As Rhea whispered, "You have no idea just how sexy you are. "Stevie felt her body react in kind, her senses alive with desire.
Stevie blushed and turned her head away, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. However, her attention was quickly drawn back to Rhea as she began to remove her shirt. Stevie's mind was flooded with images of Rhea's flawless skin, the mysterious tattoo on her ribs, and how Rhea smirked in her direction. Stevie's cheeks were still flushed, and her head felt spins as she tried to process her emotions. "Stevie?" Rhea asked with a teasing chuckle, her voice a soothing presence amidst Stevie's overwhelming thoughts and feelings. "Did I break your brain Princess?"
"Wait, that's what I s-" stevie starts but is quickly hushed by Rhea.
"Sh, sh, sh." Rhea purred. Stevie's thoughts were quickly diverted as she felt Rhea's lips on her skin, her ability to speak vanishing beneath the wave of sensation washing over her. As Rhea looked back at Stevie with a smirk, Stevie's head felt heavy, and her heart pounded furiously. "We both know talking back to be isn't going to end well." All resistance to Rhea's charms seemed to evaporate, leaving Stevie utterly defenceless against her temptation.
Stevie shuddered as Rhea nipped at her collarbone, the exhale becoming a moan as Rhea trailed kisses down Stevie's chest and stomach. "You have such a lovely body, don't you princess?" Rhea's words were like the pide pier's tune, Stevie's back arching with her kiss. Rhea trailed down her body, her heavy breathing transforming more and more into moans as Rhea found her way between Stevie's legs. "I asked you a question, princess," Rhea asked, looking up at stevie as she kissed the inside of Stevie's thighs.
But stevie was far too distracted by how Rhea slipped off her shorts and underwear to comprehend that Rhea expected an answer. Stevie's heart was beating out of her chest as she and her body quivered with desire.
"Princess, I said I asked you a question" Rhea's words were firmer now, her smirk still playing on her lips as she began teasing Stevie's clit with her thumb. It was just enough to feel how wet Stevie had gotten, the light touch practically pulling the moans from Stevie's lips.
"Oh god~" Stevie's eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. Her head fell back on the pillow as she fisted the sheets below her in her clenched hands. "Please, Rhea~oh god~please stop teasing me." she pleaded. Stevie started bucking her hips, trying to get what stimulation she could, but Rhea's free hand pressed Stevie's hips firmly down into the bed.
"Then answer the bloody questions, Princess," Rhea smirked, continuing to circle Stevie's clit teasingly as she kept her hips still. "I said you have such a lovely body, don't you princess?" Rhea savours every second of Stevie's desperation.
"Yes, yes I do, now please, I need more, please," Strive pleaded, looking down to where Rhea was smirking at her.
"See, that wasn't that hard," Rhea said, her devilish smile. Rhea shifts so she's lower on the bed, spreading Stevie's legs, raising them and resting them on her shoulder so Rhea has full access as she sinks her head and trails her tongue up Stevie's folds, dipping in to tease Stevie's entrance.
The moan that escaped Stevie's lips was one she had never heard herself give out before. The pleasure Rhea gave her was far greater than anything she'd gotten from anyone in her past. The waves of pleasure shooting up her spine contorted her face in pleasure. "Oh fuck~" she bit her lip. "Holy shit, Rhea," she gasped as Rhea continued to swirl her tongue. Stevie was utterly helpless against Rhea, pushing her higher and higher up the mountain of pleasure towards her climax.
"good girl, let those pretty little moans out for me, princess." Rhea said, sliding two fingers in, chuckling and playfully gasping as Stevie's moans got louder. "you like when I do that?" Rhea pushed her finger against Stevie's g-spot, making Stevie's back arch again, the moans slipping off her tongue like breath.
"Mhm," stevie moaned, biting her lip to try and stifle some of the moaning.
Rhea could feel the muscles in Stevie's legs rippling as she held Stevie's hips still. Her whole body reacted to what Rhea was doing. Rhea let out a low, teasing laugh. "Good girl," Rhea's voice pulled stevie even higher, starting to move her fingers at a steady pace. "Just like that baby."
"Oh fuck~" stevie panted, her head falling back on the pillow again. "Rhea," she moaned, the waves of pleasure flowing through her body. Stevie's hands found their way to Rhea's hands on her hips, needing a lifeline to hold onto so she didn't fall over the edge of pleasure too quickly.
Rhea saw just how close Stevie was already. "no one's ever done this to you?" Rhea asked, her finger keeping up the rhythm. Her smile was teasing and seductive, as she dipped her head down again to suck on Stevie's clit, driving her even closer to the edge.
It was hard for Stevie to speak as the euphoria and the sensations made her head spin. Rhea's fingers and tongue were sending waves of euphoria through her body. "Not like this," she managed to say between moans.
Rhea chuckled, keeping up the pace of the fingers and her tongue on her clit, watching as Stevie fell apart. "Oh… God… Rhea~" Stevie's words were spoken with heavy breaths as the feelings that she was receiving were indescribable.
"you close, Princess?" Rhea asked,
"Rhea~" Stevie was losing it as she felt the sensations getting hotter and hotter, the twist in her stomach of her climax approaching getting tighter and tighter. She was close, and Rhea knew she was.
But Rhea stops the thrusts of her fingers, smirking up at stevie. Stevie whimpered. "no, no, no, why?" her breath coming in pants, and she looked at Rhea. She had been so close, so close to getting the release she was practically dying for.
"You didn't answer the questions, princess," Rhea smirked, her voice a low command, her thumb beginning to tease Stevie's clit slowly once again, the circling making Stevie whimper again. Rhea held Stevie's hips firmly, digging her nails just hard enough to drive Stevie up that little bit to make it harder for her to wait through the edging. "I asked you if you were close," Rhea repeats, her thumb still circling Stevie's clit toucherously slow.
"I was," stevie said, giving Rhea a look, her sarcasm coming out with the disappointment of not being able to cum yet, "but then you-"
"Do you want to cum tonight, princess?" Rhea's tone was laced with a warning, the smirk gone, replaced by a look that made stevie go straight back to submissive.
Stevie nodded, her eyes wide with anticipation and pleasure.
"So answer the bloody question properly. Are you close?" Rhea continued teasing Stevie's clit and slowly pushed her fingers back inside stevie. The slow rise in pleasure made stevie gasp.
"Yes, I'm close." stevie said quickly, looking at Rhea with pleading eyes.
Rhea smiled again and resumed the pace, finally letting stevie reach her climax. "good girl, such a fucking good girl for me." Rhea praises as stevie falls over the edge into the pool of pleasure.
Stevie's back aches, and her toes curl. She feels the electric jolt move through her body and the fireworks in every nerve ending. She let out one last moan, Rhea sucking on Stevie's clit until she had ridden through her aftershocks. And once stevie laid limp on the bed, trembling from the pleasure, she pulled out her fingers and licked them clean, staring into Stevie's eyes the whole time.
Stevie's breath, a cadence of post-passion surrender, lingered in the space between them. Her panting laughter, an echo of shared ecstasy, punctuated the room like a melody that had found its perfect refrain. As Rhea, the architect of this intimate symphony, ascended the bed with a grace that mirrored the dance of their entwined desires, the echoes of their connection reverberated in the dimly lit room.
"Rhea... that was..." Stevie's words hung in the air, suspended between breaths, as she sought to articulate the depth of the emotions coursing through her. Her laughter, tinged with a post-ecstasy glow, weaved a tapestry of vulnerability and satisfaction. A laughter echoed through the room, an intimate acknowledgment of shared joy and connection.
As Rhea settled down beside Stevie, the bed became a canvas where the aftermath of their union unfolded. The shared smile that adorned Stevie's face reflected the emotions that still lingered—a mosaic of bliss, tenderness, and a hint of something more profound. Rhea, mirroring Stevie's smile, gazed into the universe they had created, and the room became a sanctuary where time seemed to stand still.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Rhea chuckled, her voice resonating in the symphony of their shared experience. Her smile mirrored Stevie's, but beneath the surface was an unspoken acknowledgment, a recognition of the emotional currents that had intertwined their beings.
The room, now a sanctuary for emotions laid bare, held the echoes of their connection. The atmosphere, thick with the warmth of intimacy, encapsulated a shared revelation that went beyond the physical act. Each breath and chuckle became a note in the melody of their newfound connection. This melody hinted at the possibility of something more profound that transcended the boundaries of mere physicality. But what about you? You didn't get to finish," stevie said, looking at Rhea with a cheeky smile.
"Oh princess, we're nowhere near done for the night," Rhea said with the same devilish smirk.
Notes:
Okay, this was my first attempt at writing a smut scene, so please bear with me if some parts are unclear. Thank you.
Chapter 19: It's a Beautiful Day
Summary:
The warmth of the morning was reflected in the way Rhea's arm wrapped around her waist.
Chapter Text
As Stevie awoke to the soft tendrils of sunlight filtering through the gaps in the hotel room curtains, a spectrum of emotions cascaded through her consciousness. The warmth of the morning was mirrored in the way Rhea's arm enveloped her waist, their bodies entwined in a testament to the shared vulnerability of the night before.
Oh, Stevie, look at you two! I mean, seriously, isn't this like something out of a romantic movie? I can practically hear the swoon-worthy soundtrack playing in the background.
In the quiet embrace of dawn, Stevie couldn't escape the stark reality that awaited her beyond the confines of this intimate cocoon. The sunlight, dancing in fragmented patterns on the room's surfaces, highlighted the complexities of their entangled emotions. The sheets, bearing witness to the echoes of passion and intimacy, whispered secrets that reverberated through the quiet space.
Oh, the serenity of dawn, right? How poetic. But let's not sugarcoat it. You're tangled in a web of mistakes. This room's not a haven; it's a trap, and you walked right into it. How's that for a morning revelation?
The knowledge of Outright's vehement reactions to any interaction between Stevie and Rhea cast a looming shadow over the serenity of the morning. It was a stark reminder of the hurdles and consequences that awaited Stevie outside the haven of their shared intimacy. The hotel room, bathed in the soft hues of sunlight, became a stage where the drama of conflicting loyalties and desires played out.
Regret? You should be drowning in it. This isn't a fairy tale. Rhea's no saviour, and you're not the princess. You're just another casualty in the war you started. And what about Outright? Brace yourself because when they find out, it won't be 'should we or shouldn't we.' It'll be chaos.
Come on, this isn't some soap opera drama; it's real life, and real life can be unexpectedly beautiful. I know, Outright might be a bit much, but right now, it's just you and Rhea against the world.
Yet, as Stevie turned her head to meet the morning light, a profound stillness settled over the room. The tableau before her, with Rhea's peaceful form beside her, seemed to defy the tumult of the world outside their cocoon. The vulnerability of dawn, the delicate dance of light and shadow, painted a scene where regret waltzed with the tender beginnings of something more profound.
Seriously, have you ever seen her so relaxed? It's like she's a totally different person when she's asleep. And you, my friend, you're not making a mistake; you're creating a memory. Something to look back on and smile about, no matter what happens.
In the embrace of sleep, Rhea embodied a serene beauty that resonated with Stevie's introspective gaze. The strands of Rhea's hair, tousled and artfully strewn across her face, created an unintentional allure. Stevie's heart hesitated on the precipice of vulnerability, torn between her actions' gravity and undeniable connection.
The soft curve of Rhea's lips, slightly parted in repose, invited Stevie into a moment of contemplation. Regret, though present, found itself entangled in the delicate threads of a burgeoning truth—there was something undeniable, something profound, growing between them. In the tranquillity of the morning, the room bore witness to a narrative that transcended the surface-level consequences of a liaison.
Admiring beauty? Please. You're not in a museum; you're in a ticking time bomb. Look at Rhea all you want, but don't forget the reality waiting for you. Beauty fades, but consequences? Those stick around.
I get it. There might be consequences, but isn't that what life's all about? Taking risks, embracing the unexpected. Who knows what beautiful stories could unfold from this? Outright can wait; this moment is yours, Stevie. Your heart knows when it's found something special.
In the amber embrace of morning light, a celestial tapestry wove through the room, tracing the delicate contours of Rhea's visage and accentuating the rhythmic cadence of her breath. A clandestine symphony unfolded, tempting Stevie with its ethereal allure.
Reason beckoned Stevie to depart, to clandestinely slip away and shroud this clandestine chapter in the veil of forgotten moments. It was an episode that defied the realms of possibility, an interlude never meant to grace the tapestry of their shared history. And yet, as each inhalation sculpted the air and every passing moment rendered Rhea's beauty more luminous, the tendrils of reluctance bound Stevie to a transient enchantment.
With each measured breath, a silent plea echoed in Stevie's consciousness, urging her towards the exit, towards the realm of plausible deniability. Yet, the gravitational pull of admiration, a force beyond the grasp of rationality, anchored Stevie in the liminal space between departure and lingering fascination.
The allure of dawn won't fix this. It's not a sanctuary; it's a mirage. Face it, Stevie. You're sinking, and every stolen second is another inch deeper.
In the soft interplay of sunlight and shadow, as Rhea's silhouette danced with the morning glow, the boundaries of their rivalry blurred into a nuanced portrait of vulnerability. The scene unfolded as a poetic paradox, where the inevitable pull of departure collided with the magnetic allure of admiring a once rival, now unveiled in the quiet vulnerability of dawn.
And hey, let's not forget Rhea. I mean, she's right there, looking all adorable in her sleep. How often do you get to see that? Enjoy the moment, Stevie. You're not alone, and you're definitely not making a mistake. You're just making a colorful addition to the canvas of your life.
The room, bathed in the golden hues of contemplation, became a sanctuary where the fleeting beauty of the moment tangoed with the practicality of retreat. Each stolen second became a syllable in a silent verse inscribed on the parchment of indecision.
For Stevie, the essence of departure lingered in the air, an unresolved chord in the morning symphony. As the sunlight lingered, so did the duality of her emotions—torn between the should and the could, between the practicality of leaving and the allure of witnessing beauty in its most vulnerable form.
Go on, embrace the unexpected. Your life would've been way more fun with moments like these, right? Life's too short for regrets, Stevie. Soak it in, cherish it, and let your heart guide you through this beautiful mess.
Chapter 20: Scandal
Summary:
In the soft glow of their shared space, Rhea's playful comment lingered a gentle tease. "You know all that screen time will melt your brain," she quipped, her smile carrying affection, softened by a spontaneous yawn betraying the remnants of sleep.
Chapter Text
In the tender embrace of dawn, Rhea stirred to the familiar cadence of Stevie's humming, the enduring anthem of We Are the Champions. This melody had woven itself into the tapestry of their shared history, a daily soundtrack accompanying the ebb and flow of their rivalry. Once, the mere thought of the song would spark a storm of irritation within Rhea, leaving an echo of frustration lingering in her mind for hours—a persistent annoyance fueled by the melody.
Yet, on this particular morning, as the notes drifted through the air and mingled with the first rays of sunlight, something shifted within Rhea. The chronic irritation that accompanied the melody began to transform into an unexpected sensation—an emotion that flirted with pleasure. There was a subtle beauty in the way Stevie hummed, a softness resonating with the promise of a connection yet to be fully understood.
Observing Stevie engrossed in her morning routine, scrolling through her phone with a familiarity bordering on maddening, Rhea retraced moments in locker rooms, airports, and bus rides. Every second Stevie had to spare, engrossed in her phone. It was a vivid recollection of when Rhea found Stevie's actions utterly ridiculous, especially her devoted reading and responding to every Instagram comment.
The scene played out like a snippet from their shared history, etched in Rhea's mind. Stevie, with focused determination, immersed herself in the virtual world of her Instagram. The seemingly endless comments on Stevie's social media platform, once whimsical to Rhea, now held a deeper meaning. The act of responding to every comment revealed a level of genuine connection and accessibility beyond superficiality.
In revisiting these recollections, Rhea reassessed past judgments. The seemingly trivial act of scrolling through comments became a testament to Stevie's authenticity, a commitment to tangible connections. It mirrored the transformation within Rhea herself—a gradual realization that, perhaps, there was more to Stevie's actions than initially perceived.
As Rhea retraced their shared journey, the scenes became more than memories; they were pieces of a puzzle hinting at a deeper connection. The image of Stevie, surrounded by virtual voices, took on new significance. It was about more than social media—it was an effort to bridge the gap between screen persona and person.
The once infuriating routine, the scrolling that used to exasperate Rhea, now carried a different weight. It felt oddly comforting, a rhythmic dance synchronized with Rhea's heartbeat.
In the intimate tableau of their shared space, Stevie sat on the bed, draped in Rhea's shirt like a borrowed promise. Morning sunlight played upon her tousled hair, creating a golden cascade that framed her face. The play of light cast Stevie in a soft, ethereal glow—vulnerability and quiet beauty.
Rhea couldn't help but notice the physical evidence of their shared intimacy—love bites and hickeys dotting Stevie's skin. Each mark testified to stolen moments, a secret language etched upon the canvas of their connection. As Rhea's eyes traced the map of their shared passion, an undeniable warmth enveloped her.
It wasn't just a physical connection Rhea witnessed; it was something more profound, transcending hatred and rivalry. Stevie lost in the glow of her phone, became a symbol of shared vulnerability and an unexpected tenderness amidst their history.
Rhea felt her heart soften, the walls she erected crumbling. Despite odds and rivalry, a quiet acknowledgment took root within Rhea—a recognition that, against expectations, she was falling for the person who once was her adversary.
In the soft glow of their shared space, Rhea's playful comment lingered a gentle tease. "You know all that screen time will melt your brain," she quipped, her smile carrying affection, softened by a spontaneous yawn betraying the remnants of sleep.
Stevie, engrossed in her phone, glanced over with a reciprocal smile. A dance of words, holding more than banter, acknowledged a connection evolving subtly. Stevie closed her phone as if exchanging a trivial distraction for the captivating presence of Rhea.
"I think all the time I'm spending with you will melt it faster," Stevie responded, her jest carrying sincerity. The room seemed to shrink, heavy with unspoken sentiments.
Wrapped in warmth, Rhea felt a soft flutter. The exchange, lighthearted banter, held a subtle revelation. Despite external forces, an undeniable magnetism was pulling them closer. It was more than friendly banter; it was pregnant with the unspoken possibility of something profound.
With Stevie's phone as a silent witness to evolving dynamics, Rhea realized their erected boundaries were becoming porous. The playful teasing painted a picture of an emotional landscape undergoing a quiet transformation.
"We probably shouldn't be doing this. I should probably go," Stevie confessed sadness in her voice. Her words hung in the air, an acknowledgment of their precarious situation. Despite the admission, she made no move to disentangle. Instead, she brushed strands of Rhea's hair, a silent plea for understanding.
Rhea acknowledged the complexity. The air thickened with unspoken truths. Rhea took Stevie's hand, a tangible connection, a bridge beyond uncertainties.
With a gaze of quiet intensity, Rhea brought Stevie's hand to her cheek—a subtle declaration. "But I don't want you to think logically right now," she confessed, eyes locking in a silent pact defying reason.
The room became a sanctuary, unspoken tension hanging like a delicate dance. Rhea, holding Stevie's hand to her cheek, embraced the irrational beauty of their connection. Their shared gaze became a nexus of understanding, a silent agreement to navigate emotions without practical constraints. Their hands, their shared gaze, spoke of a connection surpassing reason—a connection weaving its narrative where the heart took precedence over the mind.
In the cocoon of intimacy beneath blankets, Stevie's words hung in the air like a delicate confession. "We'd have to do this in secret. Hiding all the time, it'd be hell," she voiced, the strain evident, grappling with the weight of the decision. Rhea, attuned to nuances, saw the depth in Stevie's gaze, too potent to conceal.
Undeterred, Rhea drew Stevie closer into the warmth they wrapped themselves in. "It'll be hard, but we can do it," she asserted, a quiet determination resonating in their small space. Pulling Stevie closer, she shielded them from the external world.
A soft question lingered as Rhea continued, "Come on, when was the last time you did something just for you?" The inquiry, subtly challenging, prompted Stevie to confront external expectations.
Undeterred by hesitation, Rhea asked, "When's the last time you did something without considering what the rest of Outright thought or how it would look for your team?" The words, earnest beyond circumstance, promised liberation from societal expectations.
In the prolonged connection, a smile broke across Stevie's face—a subtle surrender. "Fuck it, let's give it a shot," she declared, words carrying defiance and anticipation, daring the world to challenge their newfound resolve.
Rhea's smile widened, shared triumph. Leaning in, she kissed Stevie. The kiss, departing from last night's passion, was a dance of tenderness and emotion—a testament to intimacy transcending the physical.
As Stevie pulled away, her smile mirrored shared sentiment—an acknowledgment that, despite challenges, they chose a journey defined by their own rules. Resting her hand on her pillow, face close to Rhea's, Stevie said, "First, you stole my nickname, and now you convince me to date my rival," smirking as she leaned closer. "You're such a bad influence on me."
With a teasing twinkle, Rhea playfully quipped, "You're turning me into a total softie, confessing my feelings like this. It's like, ugh, so cringy," a playful smirk dancing on her lips. Leaning closer, she added, "And let's be real, if there's a princess in this situation, it's definitely you." Leaning in, Rhea sealed her words with a kiss, a sweet and playful gesture echoing the tender sentiment.
Stevie's laughter bubbled forth, a melodic response to shared amusement. "So, are we sealing the deal on our secret romance? How scandalous," she remarked, laughter lingering like a shared secret.
Chapter 21: Sweet Lady
Summary:
"You look like you're in a good mood," he said, looking at Rhea in such a cheerful mood.
Chapter Text
As Rhea stepped into the gym where her fellow members of Judgment Day were waiting for their training day to begin, it was almost impossible for her to contain her smile. The past few days she had spent with Stevie had been nothing short of amazing. Still, as she arrived to face the rest of her team, Rhea reminded herself to maintain her usual attitude of grouchiness and intimidation. However, the thought of spending time with Stevie again, their nights of passion and their days of adventure, continued to flutter in Rhea's head, and she couldn't help but smile.
It had only been a few days since Stevie and Rhea had started their secret romance, but the two had made the most out of their time together. They had spent the last three off days shuttling back and forth between their hotel rooms, alternating between making love, sleeping, eating and just having long conversations. The initial excitement of their new relationship was still very present, and Rhea enjoyed every stolen moment she had with Stevie. They acted like teenagers in their first relationship, enjoying the honeymoon phase immensely as they explored and experienced new passions together.
As Rhea stepped out of the changing room into the training facility and saw Damian, Finn, and Dominik waiting by the weights, she knew it was time to put on a convincing display for her teammates. All of them still believed Stevie and Rhea were rivals, meaning Rhea would need to put on an act to hide her true feelings. Despite her inner turmoil, Rhea took a deep breath and readied herself to carry out her plan. As she joined Damian, Finn, and Dominic near the weights, she did her best to pretend she hated Stevie's guts.
Picture this, Rhea: the team found out, the awkward glances, the whispered conversations. It won't just be about hickeys and laughter; it'll be about broken trust and fractured alliances. Is this fleeting romance worth the collateral damage it could bring?
When Damian noticed Rhea's good mood, he couldn't help but comment on it teasingly. "You look like you're in a good mood," he said, looking at Rhea in such a cheerful mood.
The playful tone in Damian's voice caught Rhea's attention, causing her to shoot him a teasing grin. She was still thinking about her morning with Stevie, remembering the sweet moments they had shared. As she playfully responded to Damian's question, she couldn't help but smile slightly. "Yeah, how come you look jealous?" she said, "Nah, I just had a good morning," she added, her voice filled with hints of mischief. As her teammates continued to tease her about her spirits, Rhea's smile grew wider still, her thoughts straying to her morning with Stevie. She remembered the sound of Stevie's voice as she moaned in delight, the way her body writhed and moved under Rhea's touch. The memory was enough to make some colour rise to her cheeks, as she could feel her insides thrumming with desire and anticipation of seeing Stevie again soon.
Enjoy the stolen moments while you can, but remember, secrets have a way of clawing their way to the surface. The devil's in the details, and your little secret rendezvous might just be the spark that sets your world on fire.
Finn's phone captured Rhea's attention momentarily as she watched him scroll through Sami's Instagram page, his search for intel on Outright's activities seemingly taking up all of his focus. Of course, it was no surprise that Finn was trying to gather information, but Rhea still wondered if he had found anything. As she looked at his phone, she couldn't help but try to imagine what kind of details he would uncover.
Dominik's voice cut through her thoughts as he asked about the day's training agenda. "So, what's the plan today?" he inquired, his tone casual as if he was making small talk while trying to fill in the awkward silence. "Legs?" he continued, offering two possibilities for their workout.
As Finn returned to the present moment, he clapped his hands together, his focus now locked in on the workout they would have that day. "Right, yes, the workout," he said in response to Dominique's inquiry. "We're doing chest today," he declared, his eyes scanning over the rest of the Judgment Day to see if they were ready to begin. A sense of expectation pervaded the group, as everyone was eager to get started with their training day.
The chest workout began with each repetition and lifted a testament to the physical prowess of Judgment Day. Finn, assuming the role of the trainer, guided the team through a series of exercises designed to enhance strength and endurance. The rhythmic clinking of weights and the steady breathing of the athletes filled the space, creating a symphony of determination.
As Rhea engaged in the routine, the familiar ache of muscle exertion masked the underlying emotional distraction. The memories of her intimate mornings with Stevie played like a soft melody in the background, contrasting with the physical demands of the workout. Each lift, each flex of muscle, became a physical manifestation of the dichotomy within her—a fondness hidden behind the facade of rivalry.
The group, united in their pursuit of excellence, moved in unison through the chest workout. Finn's instructions guided their movements, fostering a sense of discipline and shared commitment. Despite the internal struggles, Rhea channelled her focus into the workout, the controlled physical exertion a refuge from the complexities of her emotions.
As the session progressed, the dynamic within the group evolved. The banter that had characterized the beginning of the training gave way to a focused determination. The gym, once a stage for rivalry, transformed into a space where the athletes of Judgment Day synergized, pushing each other to reach new heights.
Rhea's words instantly drew Finn's attention as he realized she was addressing him. Her voice was teasing and playful, but Rhea's tone was slightly strained as she continued to work out, making a joke about Finn's "stalking" of Outright. "So, Finn, are you finding anything when you stalk Outright?" she asked. She was trying to keep the tone lighthearted, but Finn could hear the slight hint of frustration in her voice. "Or," she continued, "are you just using it as an excuse to stare at Owens' ass?"
Finn's laughter filled the room as he heard Rhea's teasing comment. "Ha ha, very funny," he replied in a playful tone, but Rhea could detect a slight undercurrent of frustration in his voice. "No, I actually find things, thank you very much."
"Like what?" Damian asked, his expression skeptical as he raised an eyebrow. "It's not like they're documenting their match strategy on their Instagram stories for everyone to see," he said, referring to Outright and the possible intel Finn was gathering about them. Though he tried to come across as calm and indifferent, his tone carried just a hint of annoyance because Finn refused to elaborate on his findings.
"Just focus on the workout," he said, his voice firm and commanding, making it clear that he was not in the mood for any more games or distractions. Finn's words cut through the group like a dagger, immediately pulling their attention back to their workout as Finn attempted to keep them focused on their training. Rhea's skeptical thoughts were instantly banished as she returned to her workout, ready to give it her all. Finn had gotten them all back on track, and their workout resumed without further interruptions.
The chest workout, a rigorous challenge, served as a common ground for the team. Sweat glistened on determined faces, and the collective effort transcended individual differences. For a moment, the intricate web of personal relationships and hidden emotions faded, giving way to the shared pursuit of excellence within the confines of the gym.
As the final sets approached, Finn's voice, authoritative yet encouraging, echoed through the gym. The intensity peaked, and the athletes, driven by a mutual commitment to greatness, pushed their limits. In that shared exertion, Rhea found solace, a reprieve from the complexities of her dual existence.
The chest workout concluded, and the group gathered in a moment of collective accomplishment. The gym, once a canvas for the drama of rivalry and secret love, became a silent witness to the resilience of Judgment Day, a team bound not only by competition but by a shared journey of growth and excellence.
As the group finished their workout and wiped away their sweat using towels, Finn returned to the conversation and offered new intel. "For your information, Damian," he said, his tone teasing yet confident, "I happen to know that Sami uploaded a photo of him and Riddle sparring on his Instagram Story, which means Cody is probably trying to step up their MMA game. This means we should do more MMA practice." Finn said with a smirk as he finished speaking, proud of the information he had just shared with the group.
As Finn finished speaking, Damian was forced to admit that his intel-gathering skills were impressive despite his earlier teasing. "Okay, okay, I'll give it to you, man. That's some top-tier sleuthing," Damian said, his tone impressed and amused as he gave Finn his due props. He couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle at Finn's ingenuity. The group appreciated Finn's research and were grateful for the intel he had managed to share with them.
"I also know that Stevie is starting to date someone," Finn said, his tone slightly triumphant. The group was caught off guard by Finn's latest bit of intel as he revealed that he knew about the newest development in Stevie's love life. Damian and Dominik were shocked, gasping as they heard Finn's words. The shock and surprise were apparent on Damian's and Dominique's faces as they waited for Finn to continue his story.
Upon hearing Finn's words, Rhea's heart froze, and her skin felt like ice as she struggled to hold back her shock. "Who is she seeing?" she asked calmly, attempting to cover up her true feelings. She didn't want to give her hand away before knowing for sure that Finn knew Stevie and her secret relationship. Her calm demeanour was more of a facade, as she felt all kinds of emotions underneath.
"I don't know, but she posted a photo, and she had hickeys in the photo," Finn said, pulling out his phone to show the rest of the Judgment Day the photo.
Finn's eyes are on you, and he's not as clueless as you'd like to believe. You can bet your lucky stars he's digging deeper, connecting the dots. And once he figures it out, it won't be long before the whole team knows. Imagine the uproar, the judgment, the awkward stares.
Rhea felt relief wash over her as Finn's words assured her that their secret remained intact. The delicate dance of hidden emotions and covert rendezvous with Stevie was secure, at least for now. A subtle smile played on Rhea's lips, a secret acknowledgment of the clandestine connection she shared with the enigmatic woman.
The recognition dawned on Rhea as she studied the photo Finn presented. It was a snapshot she had captured for Stevie, an intimate moment frozen in time. Stevie, seated in her hotel bed, gave a raw and unfiltered version of herself. The absence of makeup revealed a vulnerability that echoed the authenticity of their connection. Her hair, pulled into a casual bun, hinted at the aftermath of shared moments. Clad in a robe, Stevie held a can of Monster, her companion, in this candid moment.
Oh, Rhea, do you see that? That's like a snapshot of pure joy right there! I mean, come on, she's practically glowing with happiness. And those hickeys? Classic signs of a connection that goes beyond the surface. It's like a love story unfolding in the most unexpected places!
The image exuded a quiet charm—a stolen moment of simplicity amidst the chaos of their intertwined lives. Stevie's eyes, sparkling with genuine joy, crinkled at the corners as laughter danced on her lips. The photograph, a testament to Rhea's attempt to make Stevie laugh, captured a fleeting instant where joy eclipsed the complexities of their reality.
The hickeys on Stevie's neck, though faint, added a layer of intimacy to the photo. They were subtle marks of shared passion, concealed secrets etched upon the canvas of her skin. Rhea's eyes lingered on those marks, each a silent testimony to stolen moments of connection.
The caption accompanying the photo added a playful touch to the scene. Stevie, embracing her bedhead with a self-deprecating joke, revealed a level of comfort with a vulnerability that struck a chord with Rhea. The caption hinted at a shared intimacy, an inside joke that only the two fully understood. Despite the lighthearted tone, it carried the weight of their hidden connection.
And seriously, that playful caption? It's like she's inviting you into her world, sharing a moment between you. It's not just a photo; it's a shared secret, a bond that transcends the ordinary.
Pure naivety. Do you really think these muscle-bound teammates of yours will understand? They'll see it as a betrayal, a break in the harmony.
Maybe it's time to let some of that optimism shine through. I mean, who knows? They might surprise you with their understanding. And hey, Finn's sleuthing skills are pretty impressive, right? It's like having an unintentional ally.
As Rhea revisited the captured moment in her mind, she couldn't help but be moved by the genuine beauty captured in the frame. Stevie's laughter, the tousled perfection of her messy hair, the unguarded authenticity—all combined to create an image that resonated with the quiet warmth between them. Stevie's vulnerability in that photo, choosing to share a glimpse of her unadorned self, stirred something within Rhea.
Well, well, look at that. Hickeys, laughter, and a caption that screams 'not-so-secret secret.' How quaint. But let's be honest, Rhea, these moments might feel golden now, but secrets have a funny way of blowing up in your face.
However, despite the emotions churning beneath the surface, Rhea maintained a composed exterior. The cold expression she wore shielded the depths of her feelings. It was a conscious effort to conceal the truth—her gradual and undeniable fall for the woman whose laughter echoed through the captured frame. The conflicting emotions played out in the contrast between the stoic facade and the tender memories in her heart.
When Finn shared the photo, Dominik immediately leaned in, his eyes trained on the evidence. At first glance, he couldn't believe what he saw as Stevie's hickeys suddenly became the center of attention. "Shit, you're right," he exclaimed, sounding shocked. "Wasn't she just hooking up with that girl from marketing?" he asked, his tone full of confusion and surprise. He felt sure that Stevie hadn't been seeing anyone aside from the girl he'd mentioned, so the photo had taken him completely off guard.
Rhea instinctively covered her tracks as the group delved deeper into Stevie's romantic life. "No, that was just a rumour," she said quickly, perhaps too quickly. She remembered Stevie's complaints about the gossip in the locker room, the assumptions about her romantic life that had never existed. To make her claim more believable, she added, "Stevie couldn't land someone to hook up with if she tried." She hoped her casual insult would throw the group off her scent and keep them from discovering her secret romance with Stevie.
You're playing a dangerous game here. The thrill of the forbidden might be sweet, but it always comes at a cost. How long before Outright catches wind of this little rendezvous? You're dancing on the edge, Rhea, and the fall is bound to be spectacular.
"It's probably just some fan she wanted to get a free drink from," he teased playfully, making it clear that he wasn't taking her new relationship too seriously. Damian's joke drew a laugh from the rest of the group as he attempted to put a more rational explanation behind Stevie's hickeys and her Instagram feed.
As the guys laughed, Rhea felt her heart sink as she realized how insensitive the joke was and how insulting it must have felt for Stevie. Though she had once laughed along at these sorts of jokes, she now found herself seeing them in a very different light. She couldn't say anything to expose herself as Stevie's lover, so she was forced to fake a laugh and distract herself as best she could. By the time the training session ended, her mind was already beginning to drift off in a more pleasant direction...thoughts of Stevie.
Chapter 22: Misfire
Summary:
"Keep the slander to yourself, Cody; I can outcurl you any day." The weights rose and fell with each repetition, the rhythm of their banter accompanied by the metallic clinks of the gym equipment.
Chapter Text
In the well-lit gym, the atmosphere buzzed with the energy of camaraderie and determination. Stevie, a picture of focus and determination, prepared for the challenge ahead. Her chestnut hair, tightly pulled back into a ponytail, framed her determined expression as she geared up for the standing bicep curls. As the weights clinked together, she shot a teasing glance at Cody, a playful twinkle in her eye accentuating the challenge she threw his way.
Stevie, girl, look at you rocking the gym, spreading those good vibes like confetti! Your laughs are legit contagious, and everyone's catching the joy bug. It's like you're the DJ of happiness in this joint.
She shot Cody a teasing glance as the two began their standing bicep curls, a twinkle in her eye as she challenged him. "I bet I can curl more than you today," she teased. "What do you say?" Outright had convened for their regular workout session, and today's focus was on arm drills and circuits. Despite the intensity of the workout, Stevie revelled in the joy of being with her teammates, the shared laughter, and the bonds forged in the crucible of training.
Today's mood was particularly buoyant, an invisible aura of happiness enveloping stevie. The secret romance with Rhea had infused her spirit with a sense of invincibility as if she could conquer anything that came her way. The gym, with its clattering weights and focused energy, provided a perfect backdrop for her radiant happiness.
And Rhea, oh my gosh, aren't secret romances just the cutest? It's like having your own rom-com, but real life. I'm living for your love story, Stevie. Keep that flame burning, and when the time's right, you can shout it from the rooftops. Until then, enjoy those stolen glances and secret smiles. You two are like the high school sweethearts we all wish we had
Oh, Stevie, are you enjoying that happiness of yours? How long do you think your facade will last? The weight of your invincibility is just a fleeting illusion. Your laughter only amplifies the echoes of your insecurities. Your team is with you, but do they really understand the darkness within? Rhea couldn't possibly fill the void that your own mind creates.
Cody, accustomed to Stevie's competitive streak, couldn't help but be amused. "You're on, Stevie," he replied, his tone a playful mix of challenge and confidence. "But when you lose, don't get all upset like you usually do," he teased, trying to rile her up as the two prepared to work out. Stevie didn't like to talk about it out loud, but deep down, she enjoyed the friendly competition that always cropped up during their gym sessions. Her competitive nature was undoubtedly part of why she and Cody had always gotten along so well.
"Keep the slander to yourself, Cody; I can outcurl you any day." The weights rose and fell with each repetition, the rhythm of their banter accompanied by the metallic clinks of the gym equipment. Stevie's laughter reverberated through the space, blending with the hum of the air conditioning, creating a soundtrack to their workout. Her voice, filled with confidence, carried across the room as she continued to exchange playful jabs. "Hey, Kev, you think he can outcurl me?" she called out, inviting others into the banter. "I've got the strength of the Undertaker!" she proclaimed, her tone a mix of playfulness and determination.
Your happiness is just a temporary distraction from the storm inside your head. How long until you crumble under the weight of your own deceit? Tick-tock, Stevie. Tick-tock.
Kevin, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, joined in, "Stevie, I've seen you lift, and I think Calaway might have a word with you about that statement there." Caught off guard, Stevie burst into laughter, a contagious wheeze escaping her lips as she struggled to regain composure. The camaraderie among the group, amplified by their good-natured banter, created an environment where the line between competition and friendship blurred.
Nice act, Stevie. Playing the part of the team player while you're cozying up with Rhea from the Judgment Day, the rival team. How do you even look them in the eye? Your laughs are just distractions from the truth you're burying deep down. 'Oh, let's all have a good time in the gym,' you say, but it covers the mess you're making.
You're not fooling anyone, babe. You're not lying. You care about Brandi and Libby. You care about Kevin's family and Sami's family. You care because they are your family, too. Stevie, you aren't just faking it for the lie; you do care, and you'll always. You're just juggling these incredible connections. It's not about deceiving; it's about creating this epic collage of friendship and love. You're like the Picasso of good vibes. Embrace it, Stevie.
Transitioning seamlessly from tricep dips to hammer curls, the group moved through the exercise circuit with a fluidity that spoke of their familiarity and teamwork. In the intervals between sets, the conversation shifted to a more personal terrain. Family, friendships, and individual interests became the focal points of discussion, offering a respite from the intensity of the workout.
During a rest break, as the group caught their breath, Stevie turned her attention to Cody. Her voice, genuine and warm, cut through the gym's ambient noise. "How's the family, Cody?" she asked, sincerity infusing her words. Her interest in Cody's life beyond the wrestling ring was palpable, a testament to the bond that extended beyond the confines of their athletic pursuits.
Look at you, Stevie, the master of deception. Smiling, laughing, pretending to care about Cody's family while hiding the truth about Rhea. Do you think you can keep up this charade for any longer? Your laughter is purely a cover, a veil to conceal the deceit beneath. Every shared joke, every playful jab with your teammates is tainted by the lie you are living. They trust you, but you betray that trust with every hidden moment with Rhea.
Cody's expression softened, mirroring the affection he held for his family. "They're good," he replied, the warmth in his voice resonating with contentment and gratitude. "Brandi and Libby are keeping me on my toes," he continued a chuckle underscoring the playful challenges of family life. "You know how it is," he added, creating a shared understanding and connection among teammates who were more like family. "What about you?" Cody asks, "Has Rhea been driving you too mad?"
Stevie averted her gaze, subtly attempting to conceal the conflict playing across her features as she wove a fabricated tale about her supposed disdain for Rhea. "Yeah, I can't stand her," she asserted, injecting an air of conviction into her words, the lie crafted with practiced ease. Her attempt at masking the truth extended to her expression, attempting to shield the turmoil beneath her facade.
I bet they'd love to know about your secret affairs. Can you imagine the looks on their faces when they find out you've been two-timing them with the enemy? That camaraderie you're soaking up now will turn into cold stares and whispers. But hey, who cares, right? As long as you get your kicks. You're becoming a master at this deception game, but how long until it blows up in your face?
Sami, seemingly uninterested in delving into the intricacies of the Judgment Day dynamics, swiftly redirected the conversation. "Can we please talk about something else other than the Judgment Day? I don't want to ruin my good mood with their bullshit," he requested, a tinge of exasperation colouring his tone. The desire to sidestep the complexities of team dynamics and interpersonal drama was palpable in his words.
Your heart is in the right place, girl. When that devil of doubt tries to mess with your groove, just remember, you're the captain of the optimism squad. Life's a party, and you're the life of it. So keep slaying those curls, keep cracking those jokes, and let's turn this gym into your personal happiness haven. The future's looking bright, my friend!
"Ya, fuck them, let's just focus on the workout," Kevin chimed in, his no-nonsense attitude cutting through the tension. Stevie, relieved by the shift in conversation, released a slow breath, the weight of the fabricated animosity lifting momentarily. The trio collectively agreed to redirect their attention to the immediate task at hand, embracing the sanctuary of the workout as a refuge from the intricacies of team dynamics and the need for deceptive pretense.
Chapter 23: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
Summary:
"Hey, you," Stevie greeted, letting her gym bag fall with a thud against the floor.
Chapter Text
The elevator ride back to Stevie's room was a slow ascent, each floor passing with an agonizing deliberation that heightened Stevie's anticipation to see Rhea again. The muted hum of the elevator machinery underscored the quiet excitement coursing through her veins. They had agreed to meet back in Rhea's room, a space that had become a sanctuary, a refuge from the demands and expectations of the day. The hours had stretched strangely, the lies and pretense wearing down Stevie's social battery until she longed for the comfort of authenticity.
The hotel corridor unfolded before her as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar stretch of carpeted floor leading to her temporary haven. Stevie's sneakers scuffed softly against the plush surface, the sound a comforting echo of countless journeys between the training grounds and the solitude of her room.
Stevie, oh my gosh, this is like straight out of a romance movie, seriously! You and Rhea, sneaking around, creating your own little world—it's like a love story for the ages!
Upon reaching her destination, the door swung open with a quiet click, closing off the outside world. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of bedside lamps, welcomed her with a sense of familiarity. The neatly made bed and the scent of hotel detergent lingering in the air was a stark contrast to the communal chaos of the training facility. Stevie's gaze drifted to the small desk by the window, where a scattering of papers and training notes lay in organized disarray.
Well, well, look at you. Thinking you're so clever with your little secret meetings. Sneaking around like a rat in the dark. How pathetic.
Rhea occupied a space on the bed, a silhouette of weariness and excitement. The dim light cast a gentle glow on her, emphasizing the contours of her features. A spark of recognition passed between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the secret world they had woven, a world shielded from the prying eyes of their teammates.
"Hey, you," Stevie greeted, letting her gym bag fall with a thud against the floor. Rhea's smile, a mosaic of relief and longing, greeted her in return. It was a smile that spoke of shared moments, stolen glances and laughter hidden from the world.
"Hey," Rhea replied, her voice a careful dance between the casual and the intimate. Stevie approached, the distance between them closing like the final steps of a long journey. The room seemed to shift, its ambiance transforming into a haven where the weight of the day slowly lifted in the presence of the one person who understood.
Stevie couldn't resist stealing a glance down at the t-shirts they had both chosen to wear, the contrasting symbols of their allegiance. The fabric clung to her skin, a tactile reminder of the day's challenges. The white Outright shirt was adorned with their distinctive logo, an emblem of rivalry proudly displayed for the world. Beside it, the black Judgment Day shirt boasted a cartoon depiction of the team, a lighthearted contrast to the fierce competition that awaited them.
You really think this forbidden dance is going to end well? You're fooling yourself, sweetheart. Secrets have a way of getting out, and when they do, everyone will see you for the conniving little schemer you are.
Seated beside Rhea, Stevie couldn't help but revel in their closeness, the warmth of their shoulders brushing against each other. The air between them crackled with an unspoken energy, a silent testament to the intimacy they had cultivated in secret. Rhea's laughter, a delicate blend of nerves and authenticity, filled the room like a melody, wrapping them in a cocoon of shared moments.
As Stevie pulled off her hoodie, a sense of ease settled over her. The room, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamps, felt like a haven where pretense could be set aside. "How was your training session?" Stevie inquired, a genuine smile playing on her lips.
Rhea's totally into you, right? I mean, who wouldn't be? Look at her, all excited and tired at the same time. It's adorable!
"Meh, pretty normal,” Rhea said, tilting her head back from side to side. “Finn nearly gave me a heart attack by saying he knew you were seeing someone," Rhea replied with a chuckle, her eyes meeting Stevie's in a conspiratorial exchange.
Stevie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh?" she responded, a hint of shock flickering in her expression.
"Don’t worry," Rhea reassured, her voice laced with mischief. "He has no idea who it is. It’s just you can kinda see some hickeys on your neck in that photo you posted, the one of you in bed." Rhea's words hung in the air, a careful disclosure that sought to ensure Stevie knew they weren't in danger of getting caught.
“Oh, I do like that photo,” Stevie couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and amusement. The intricacies of their secret dance played out in the conversation, each word a delicate step on the tightrope of concealment. "Well, that's… unexpected," she replied, her eyes meeting Rhea's in a silent acknowledgment of the shared secret they guarded.
And you, my friend, you're like the master of stealthy romance. Seriously, the way you two navigate this secret love affair—it's like a spy mission, but with more kisses!
The room, once again, became a sanctuary where laughter and honesty coexisted. As Stevie marvelled at how Rhea navigated the conversation with finesse, she couldn't shake the feeling that their clandestine romance was a delicate puzzle, each piece fitting into place but hinting at the larger picture waiting to be revealed. In the soft glow of the hotel room, Stevie and Rhea continued their dance of shared confidence, the shadows on the wall a silent witness to the complexity of their hidden connection.
Oh, the thrill of deception, right? Enjoy it while it lasts because, believe me, the fall from grace is going to be spectacular. Your little game is ticking down to its pathetic end.
"But yeah, they think you were with a fan to get some free drinks," Rhea added, her tone filled with humor. She thought Stevie might find the guys' assumption amusing, not knowing just how much it would affect her.
Wow, they really think you'd stoop so low. Even for you, that's a new common, isn't it? But hey, maybe they're onto something. The famous Stevie Turner living up to the rumours, huh? What a spectacle.
Stevie did her best to mask her hurt, and laughter erupted from her as she tried not to show just how much the words had cut her. "Wow, they have a low opinion of me." she laughs to cover up the slight hurt feeling.
Oh, Stevie, you handled that like a champ! Seriously, turning their assumptions into a big joke? Classic move! You had Rhea in stitches, and me too. It's like you're the queen of improv, making the best out of an unexpected situation.
Laugh it off, Stevie. Pretend like it doesn't sting. After all, it's just a game, right? They're just playing around. Or maybe, just maybe, they see through the act. Perhaps they know you're not as innocent as you want them to believe.
Rhea's face softened slightly as she spoke, seeming to sense that her words had caused Stevie some discomfort. She quickly apologized, explaining why her words might have seemed rude or harsh. "And I had to insult you kinda to keep our cover," she confessed. She seemed to feel bad about potentially hurting Stevie, and she was eager to explain that it had all been an act meant to protect the two of them and their secret relationship. She wanted Stevie to know that her words did not reflect her true feelings, and she tried to make amends by admitting the truth.
And Rhea, the great defender, throws in the insult to keep up appearances. It's a classic move, covering up one lie with another. But let's not pretend, Stevie, insults have a way of cutting deep. Just remember, behind every joke, there's a kernel of truth.
And Rhea, oh my gosh, did you see how she tried to make up for it? Apologizing all over the place, making it clear it was just an act. She cares about you, Stevie. You've got yourself a real defender there. It's like watching a rom-com, but better because it's real life!
Stevie let out another round of laughter, finding it humorous that Rhea had to devise an excuse to explain why she was with Stevie. Her curiosity was also piqued, and she pressed Rhea for more details. "What? What'd you say?" Stevie asked, unable to contain her interest. She was eager to learn more about the made-up excuse, and she wanted to understand precisely what Rhea had said to cover for her. It was all good fun, and Stevie couldn't wait to hear the story.
Isn't it amazing, Stevie? The room, the dim light, the way you both know without saying anything. It's like your own little love bubble, shielded from the world. Ah, young love, it's the sweetest thing!
"That you couldn’t get a relationship if you tried," Rhea admitted, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. She took Stevie's hand in hers, feeling the warmth of their connection and the strength of their bond. It was a tender moment, a reminder of the love and acceptance that existed between the two of them. Stevie felt cherished and supported as their conversation took on a new layer of intimacy and trust. As they held each other's hands, the walls that Rhea had been building around herself for so long began to crumble away.
Stevie tilted her head as she laughed, finding the entire situation amusing. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice filled with playfulness. She was enjoying this banter with Rhea, and she was eager to see where the conversation went next. The light tone of their conversation was contagious, and Stevie's laughter continued to flow. She was happy to share this moment with her girlfriend, and the laughter helped to lift her spirits. It felt like they were having a moment to themselves, surrounded by laughter and love.
Look at you two, navigating through this maze of secrets and jokes. It's almost like a teen drama, but with way more excitement. You know, you're creating this incredible narrative, and I'm here for it. The chemistry between you and Rhea is like something out of a storybook.
As Rhea spoke, her fingers played with the woven string bracelets on Stevie's wrist as if tracing each individual strand. "Yeah," she said, her gaze on Stevie. Her tone was warm, as she seemed to cherish this moment of intimacy with her girlfriend. "And now… well, look at us," Rhea said, her voice tinged with affection and admiration. As her fingers continued to touch the bracelets, it felt as if she was gently reminding Stevie of their growing connection and how far they had come together.
Stevie chuckled at the absurdity of it all. "Funny how life works, huh?" she said, her tone reflective as she squeezed Rhea's hand. She looked at her girlfriend, feeling the connection between them. Even though their relationship was kept secret, they made the best of every moment they could together. Nothing could come between them, not even societal expectations or stereotypes. The joy they found in each other's company and love for one another was all that mattered.
"Funny and unexpected," Rhea agreed, her eyes now holding a hint of vulnerability. She was usually a strong person, but when it came to the relationship with Stevie, she allowed herself to be vulnerable. She trusted Stevie completely and felt more comfortable being open and sharing her thoughts and feelings than she would have with anyone else. The two of them had built a strong foundation of trust, respect, and understanding, and it was a deep comfort for both of them. Their love and support for one another was one of the most essential things in their lives.
In the quiet moments that followed, Stevie marvelled at the intimacy they had forged. Rhea's admission hung in the air, and Stevie found herself caught between the thrill of the forbidden and the comfort of connection.
"I never thought I'd find someone who gets it," Rhea said, her gaze now fixed on their hands. She was opening up to Stevie, sharing her true thoughts and feelings. She wanted Stevie to know that their relationship meant a lot to her and that she was grateful for their shared connection. Stevie had come to understand Rhea's past struggles and insecurities, which made their bond even more vital. It was a comforting relief for Rhea to find someone she felt safe opening up to, and Stevie was happy to provide that support.
“Get what?” Stevie asked, smiling as she interlocked her fingers with Rhea’s.
Rhea's fingers continued to play with Stevie's bracelet, an affectionate gesture that helped to emphasize her feelings. She was still trying to wrap her mind around just how much she and Stevie had in common, even after all the years of tension and hostility between them. "Just like how I think," Rhea said, her tone holding a sense of disbelief. She had assumed their relationship would be filled with arguments and conflict, but instead, they felt like they were on the same wavelength, like they understood each other better than anyone else could.
Stevie's grin grew even more expansive, as their shared secret seemed to bring them closer together. The weight of this secret bound them stronger, as they both felt more connected and united than ever before. "Well, lucky for both of us, we did," Stevie said, her tone filled with delight and gratitude. The weight of their secret felt no longer like an albatross around their necks, but instead, it had become a source of strength and connection between them. It was a blessing in disguise, and they both appreciated their newfound understanding.
A warm smile spread across Rhea's face, and she leaned in closer, her lips meeting Stevie's in a gentle kiss. As they pulled away, Rhea's hand gently caressed Stevie's cheek, and she leaned in closer once again. This time, their foreheads touched in a loving and intimate moment. "I like you," Rhea said quietly, her voice conveying the depth of her emotions. Her words felt like a revelation to Stevie, who never imagined she would ever hear those words from Rhea's mouth.
Maybe Rhea’s alright.
Stevie whispered her own feelings, her voice tinged with emotion. "I like you too," she shared softly, her expression filled with affection and warmth.
Picture this, Stevie. The two of you, wrapped up in cozy blankets, laughing at some cheesy romantic comedy. Rhea steals glances at you when she thinks you're not looking, and you rob them right back. It's like a rom-com marathon made just for you two!
“Now, should we get in comfy clothes and relax for the rest of the night?” After all they had been through together, this moment felt all the more special. The prospect of an intimate evening together in comfy clothes sounded like the perfect end to their unexpected journey. It was the kind of romantic and cozy night that Stevie had always dreamed of, and now, it seemed like it could be reality. It was a comforting feeling to share this moment with Rhea.
Chapter 24: Need Your Loving Tonight
Summary:
"You want to be the sub? Have you ever been a sub with anyone else?" Stevie asked, fingers caressing Rhea's skin and slipping towards her waistband.
Chapter Text
As the evening sun painted warm hues across the sky, Stevie and Rhea stood on the precipice of their clandestine sanctuary, shielded from the outside world by a veil of secrecy. Inside the hotel room, a subtle shift occurred, shedding the burdens of the day as Stevie and Rhea settled into a shared stillness. The soft glow of bedside lamps created an intimate ambiance, transforming the space into a haven of quiet connection where authenticity reigned.
"I like you in my clothes," Rhea flirted, her eyes tracing Stevie's figure adorned in a WWE Judgment Day merch shirt, a relic from countless late-night wrestling sessions. The shirt bore the scars of fandom, and below it, red flannel pyjama pants added a touch of rebellious comfort. Freckles adorned Stevie's makeup-free face, accentuating their natural beauty, while untamed brown locks cascaded freely. "Makes me feel like I'm corrupting you," Rhea giggled, leaning in to kiss Stevie, who responded with a playful smirk. "Maybe I'm the one corrupting you," Stevie teased in return.
In stark contrast, Rhea emanated strength in a sleek black tank top and sweatpants, revealing the subtle contours of her form. Her raven-black hair framed her face with an air of untamed rebellion, and the absence of makeup allowed tattoos on her arms to tell silent tales of resilience. Together, unadorned and genuine, Stevie and Rhea found beauty in the simplicity of their connection.
Now comfortably settled in their chosen haven, the soft light played on familiar features—the neatly made bed, scattered papers on the desk, and a window with its own stories. Rhea crawled into bed beside Stevie, a sense of ease settling over them as pretenses crumbled away. "So, what's our viewing pleasure for the night?" Rhea asked, holding the remote, a tool of potential adventures and shared laughter.
"Surprise me," Stevie replied, leaning against plush pillows. Rhea's fingers danced across the remote, and the TV hummed to life, casting a gentle glow. A familiar show unfolded, creating a backdrop for their cocoon. As they settled into a rhythm of shared commentary and stolen glances, Rhea felt the gentle press of Stevie's body against hers. In the sanctuary of the room, they navigated the complexities with shared laughter and unspoken understanding.
"So, spill the secrets," Stevie said, gazing at Rhea. The characters on TV faded as the real world took center stage.
Rhea chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "Secrets, huh? What do you want to know?" The moment's intimacy invited vulnerability, and the banter, stripped of complexities, became a canvas for shared confidence.
"Everything," Stevie replied with a grin, asking for openness and turning this clandestine escape into a space for shared revelations.
"Stevie, you'll have to narrow it down a bit," Rhea chuckled, her laughter echoing as her playful teasing continued. The room, already filled with the soft glow of the TV and the warmth of their shared space, seemed to lighten further with their banter.
"Okay, okay, um," Stevie mused, glancing at the TV as she pondered a question. "Oh, here's one. Tell me about what you look for in a woman."
"A dumbass who doesn't know how to ask good questions," Rhea retorted in a teasing voice, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Stevie, taking the playful jab in stride, retaliated with a small, playful punch to Rhea's shoulder. "Hey," she protested, "I'm not a dumbass."
"You're my dumbass," Rhea replied, her tone affectionate as she inched closer to Stevie. Their cuddling, initially wholesome and cozy, took on a more flirtatious tone. The room, once filled with the soft hum of the TV, now hummed with the electricity of their playful exchange. The subtle shift in their dynamic painted an unspoken picture of the evolving intimacy between them, transforming their shared haven into a space where playful banter danced on the edges of something more profound.
"You're lucky I like you now, dummy." Stevie's voice was warm and playful as her hands found their way to Rhea's hips under the comfort of their shared blanket. Their proximity and the intimate atmosphere brought out her more mischievous side as she teased the woman by her side. Stevie's lips met Rhea's neck, and a delicious sensation stirred within her. "Let me think of a better question," Stevie whispered before returning to the teasing kisses that were flurrying Rhea's heart.
"You sure do like to tease me, don't you?" Rhea's voice was playful yet filled with admiration and a hint of desire. Stevie's fingers and lips moved across Rhea's anatomy, and they discovered a spot near her ear that was intensely sensitive. As Stevie nibbled on that spot, Rhea let out a breathy chuckle that soon enough turned into a moan. She suddenly felt their proximity in a new light, as if a wave of electricity was flowing between them. Stevie's tantalizing touch utterly ensnared her.
Stevie's words were filled with mischievous playfulness as her lips teased Rhea's skin. "How about what type of things do you want to try in bed?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Rhea's skin responded to Stevie's touch as a flutter of pleasure washed over her. Their bodies were close together, and their connection was palpable. Stevie's kisses moved down Rhea's neck and towards her shoulder. Stevie's eyes remained on Rhea, savouring her response and drinking every moment.
"Uh…" Rhea blinked hard, trying to focus on the question, but the feeling of Stevie's hands found their way to the curves of Rhea's breasts. The gentle caress was filled with desire and passion, and Rhea's body responded with delight. As Stevie's fingers brushed across her skin, she felt the heat building, and she was filled with anticipation. "I've always wanted to try a strap-on, but I don't have one, and-" Rhea's breath hitched as stevie hand slowly slid its way under the hem of her tank top and onto her breasts again, her fingers gently pinching Rhea's nipples to tease her further. Rhea felt her breath catch in her throat, each gesture from Stevie stirring a deep sense of pleasure within her. The gentle caress built up a storm of sensation, the heat steadily increasing with each touch. Stevie's fingers seemed to know exactly how to coax specific reactions out of Rhea, and her playfulness only added to the excitement.
"Come on, baby, don't leave me hanging," Stevie purred close to Rhea's ear, her breath filling her with anticipation and desire. The TV's soft hum was barely a distraction from the moment they shared, the sounds of the show fading away into the background. Stevie's raspy voice and gentle touch were intoxicating, and the heat built up between them and each passing second made it harder to refrain from acting on their attraction as they were increasingly drawn to each other.
"To be submissive," Rhea's voice was a light whisper, and her words seemed to carry both desire and submission in equal measure. The way Stevie's fingers tweaked her nipples only heightened her arousal, her hardness pressing against the fabric of her shirt.
Stevie's lips curved into a teasing, devilish smile as if she revelled in Rhea's growing need for her. "You want to be the sub? Have you ever been a sub with anyone else?" Stevie asked, fingers caressing Rhea's skin and slipping towards her waistband.
Rhea's heartbeat raced, and her breath grew shallow as Stevie's hand slid beneath her waistband, as if the moment was becoming too intense for her to bear. With Stevie's hand gently guiding her, Rhea lost herself in the heat of the moment, the feeling only growing more thrilling and intimate with each passing second. It was a moment of raw emotion as she submitted herself to the will of her lover, as the rush of desire coursed through her body and brought her ever closer to euphoria.
"Take off your clothes." The words came out from Stevie's lips like a firm command, and there was no hesitation in her expression. She expected Rhea to obey, her tone showing no room for debate or discussion. There was an air of excitement in Stevie's voice, the anticipation and desire growing with each passing second. Rhea felt herself being pulled deeper into the heat of the moment as if it had a will of its own, and she was a willing participant in its path.
As Stevie lay back and watched Rhea slip off her clothes, her grin was filled with anticipation and mischief. She reached over to her suitcase and pulled out her bullet vibrator as if the moment was a pre-planned adventure of pleasure and excitement. There was an unmistakable spark of desire in Stevie's eyes as she waited for Rhea to join her on the bed. "Sit back down here, lean your back against my chest," With the words of her command ringing in her ears, Rhea complied, leaning back against Stevie's chest and feeling the heat of her body against her own. It was a delicious feeling to be the only one unclothed, and that sense of exposure only heightened her pleasure and anticipation. Stevie's firmness and authority were impossible to ignore, making the moment all the more exhilarating.
Stevie's movements were confident and dominant as she spread Rhea's legs apart and began to work the bullet vibrator over her sensitive clit. The light buzzing sounded in the room as Stevie continued to move the vibrator over Rhea's body, teasing her and playing with her in a way that she had not experienced before. Stevie's voice was also confident and full of desire as she whispered beside Rhea's ear. "So sensitive," Stevie whispered, the words sending a wave of pleasure through Rhea's body, her breaths becoming more shallow and her body more restless.
"I guess you've been paying attention when it comes to what I've been doing," Rhea joked, trying to make light of how inexperienced she felt being a sub. But she couldn't deny that her stomach churned with pleasure at the whispers and chuckles from Stevie's lips pressed against her skin. Stevie's own legs holding Rhea's legs open, her other hand massaging Rhea's breasts. All of it made Rhea's breath catch in her throat. With Stevie's hand pushing Rhea back against her chest, there was nowhere for Rhea to go, only to enjoy the ride while she could.
Stevie's words were filled with a playful and teasing tone, as if she was toying with Rhea's feelings and desires. The vibrator remained turned on and against Rhea's clit, the feeling of Stevie's touch bringing her closer to her climax every passing second. "It's cute when you make jokes to hide how much you like being my toy for once," Stevie whispered seductively as if she was enjoying Rhea's unease and embarrassment, as well as seeing how eager she was for her touch.
Rhea found herself blushing as Stevie gripped her hand to hold it back. Stevie's voice was playful and teasing as she refused to let Rhea cover her face in embarrassment. "No, no, no, don't cover up," Stevie said in a firm voice, her words accompanied by a slight giggle. Just the sound of Stevie's voice made Rhea's blush grow even more intense, as she felt herself becoming flustered and excited. With Stevie's hand preventing her from hiding her face, she could feel Stevie's eyes on her, watching her reaction to every sensation. "I didn't say you could do that." Rhea could hear the smirk in Stevie's voice, the teasing tone making her blush even harder.
"I thought you hated it when I tease you," Rhea whispered breathlessly, her chuckling turning into a moan. The low vibration level made her squirm, as she wanted more and more. The sensations were both intense and pleasurable, and the feelings seemed to be increasing in power with every second. Stevie's grip on her seemed to tighten, her hand keeping Rhea still as her words continued to cause the blush on her face to grow deeper.
"And we both know that never stops you," Stevie purred as she continued to move the vibrator in a slow circle around Rhea's clit, keeping the rhythm steady. "I'll give you more, love, don't you worry," she whispered, turning off the vibrator as her fingers found their way toward Rhea's clit. Stevie's voice was raspy as she whispered the words "So wet for me, darling" and kissed Rhea's neck softly, all of it making the moment even more intimate and thrilling. The sensations were growing even more intense, and the pleasure was becoming almost overwhelming.
"Stevie..." Rhea didn't get to finish what she wanted to say as a wave of pleasure washed over her. Stevie's touch had her legs shivering, her lips parted, and her body shuddering. "Mm, oh my God." Rhea's eyes closed, and her brain froze. She just let herself feel every moment of that touch and every sensation lost in Stevie. "Stevie..." Then she opened her eyes, the feeling of Stevie's feather light kisses on Rhea's shoulders just driving even more wild with pleasure. "More..."
"Not so quickly," Stevie laughed as she moved her fingers lower and into Rhea, just deep enough to make her moan softly but not anywhere near where she wanted it yet. "I have to have my fun now." Stevie was clearly enjoying playing with her, wanting to draw out this experience as long as possible and make Rhea feel utterly desperate for her touch. There was a cruelty to her actions that made the moment even more exciting as if she was enjoying seeing Rhea struggle to control herself and wanting more.
There was a fire burning in Stevie's eyes whenever she teased Rhea, as she refused to give her the full amount that she wanted. Stevie's kisses left marks on Rhea's neck, her tongue teasing her and sending shivers of pleasure through her body. "Stevie..." Rhea's voice was shaky as she begged for more, the intensity and pleasure of the moment bringing her close to her breaking point. She felt overwhelmed, her mind muddled with desire and the need for more. She could not get enough of Stevie's kisses and touching, her body craving each sensation.
Then, Stevie's finger pushed deeper, her touch becoming even more expert than before. Stevie's thumb continued to tease Rhea's clit as she slipped her two fingers inside Rhea, and it was almost too much. Rhea felt herself reaching the peak of her pleasure quickly, but Stevie kept her on the edge, her touch keeping her from fully surrendering to the waves of ecstasy. Stevie's control and expertise were both exhilarating and overwhelming, and Rhea found herself craving every movement of Stevie's fingers, feeling desperate to reach the release she so desperately needed.
"You know, I like you when you're a sub. I don't have to hear as much of your sarcasm," Stevie purred, enjoying how Rhea's usual sharp wit and sarcasm were replaced by moans of pleasure, her mind too foggy to think of anything except for the touch of Stevie's fingers. Stevie's voice was filled with playfulness and excitement as if she was enjoying Rhea's role as a submissive. She liked when Rhea's mind went blank, and she was filled with desires and passions. It was a side of Rhea that Stevie did not often see, and it was just as exciting as it was arousing.
"I'm going to kill you when I can think again~ Oh god," Rhea's words were cut off as Stevie pushed against her g-spot to quiet her. Stevie had found the spot that Rhea loved, and she made sure to keep pressing on it, driving Rhea wild with pleasure and pushing her closer and closer towards her climax. Stevie was making it difficult for Rhea to think, but she did not mind at all as she surrendered herself to the sensations and the touch of Stevie's fingers. Stevie was proving that she was an expert at making Rhea lose herself in pleasure.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that," Stevie said, her tone dripping with teasing. Stevie knew precisely what she was doing, and she was clearly enjoying messing with Rhea's head. Stevie kept her fingers working, her movements making Rhea feel overwhelmed with pleasure and her words making it all the more fun. Stevie was pushing Rhea to her limit, and she was not sorry for it at all.
"I hate you," Rhea said with a chuckle laced with a moan as she rested her head back against Stevie's shoulder. Rhea's words were teasing and playful, but her voice was filled with pleasure and satisfaction. Stevie's fingers were working their magic, and Rhea was beginning to understand why Stevie had such a passion for this. Stevie's eyes lit up as she heard Rhea's moan, her voice and her body telling her everything she needed to know about just how well she was performing.
"Too late, you already said you liked me, baby," Stevie said, pushing against Rhea's g-spot once again to hear Rhea's guttural moans again. Stevie's laughter was small and playful. With one of her hands still holding Rhea back against her chest, Stevie was clearly enjoying the control that she had over her, the way she could push Rhea to her limit and beyond. Stevie's touch was having a profound effect on Rhea, and Stevie seemed to enjoy every moment of it.
Stevie's fingers kept going, moving in perfect rhythm. Rhea's body was shaking with excitement as Stevie continued to keep her at the edge, her heart racing as she got closer and closer to her peak. Rhea's eyes were wide with pleasure, her lips parted as she gasped for breath. It felt like she had to take in every last breath, but also like she couldn't breathe at all. Rhea didn't know what to say, but she was losing her willpower. She was getting closer and closer to where her body was desperately begging her to go.
"Getting close, baby?" Stevie asked with a teasing smile, her tone dripping with excitement and desire. Stevie was fully aware of what she was doing to Rhea, and she had no intention of letting up or making this any easier for Rhea. Stevie enjoyed seeing Rhea struggle to control herself, and she was savouring every second of seeing the effects that her touch had on Rhea. Stevie was enjoying herself, and she would surely push Rhea even closer to the edge if it meant that she could hear her moan more.
"Mmmm..." Rhea's voice was just a whisper as she was in no condition to speak. She was almost completely lost in the sensations, her mind spinning out of control. She gripped the bed sheets and dug her nails into them as Stevie's fingers continued to pleasure her. "Yes, yes, yes..." Rhea wasn't even asking, just confirming what Stevie already knew. Stevie had her completely pinned, and there was nothing she could do but lay back and take the pleasure.
"Should I let you cum, or should I just edge you over and over like you tend to do to me?" Stevie asked with a chuckle, her middle and ring finger continuing to curl and move inside Rhea. Stevie was enjoying herself, causing Rhea's body to squirm and her breath to falter. Stevie was in control, and she was the one deciding what to do next.
"Stevie, I swear to~ shit ," Rhea was cut off again. Stevie's fingers were curling and moving inside her perfectly, causing her to moan and her eyes to flutter closed in pleasure. Stevie was in control, making it difficult for Rhea to think and speak. Every time Stevie's fingers moved correctly, Rhea found herself moaning and struggling, the feeling of pleasure and excitement overwhelming her. Stevie's fingers knew precisely how to make Rhea feel everything that she wanted to feel.
"I don't remember asking you to talk back to me, baby," Stevie said with the same chuckle. Stevie's voice was husky, and when combined with her words, it was clear that she was enjoying being in control.
"Let me cum” Rhea moaned, her frustration building and her urges demanding to be answered. The knot in Rhea's stomach continued to tighten, the pressure of her desire building with every second as her body begged for the release of the climax that it craved. Stevie's fingers held the key to Rhea's satisfaction, and Stevie would not give in unless she wanted to.
"Hmm," Stevie started, her voice carrying a playful tone. "I don't think-"
"Please let me cum," Rhea said, her desperation clear and audible. It would have been impossible to miss how Rhea's tone was filled with a need to release that made Stevie smile. Stevie liked hearing that and seeing how Rhea was so eager for release.
So stevie gave Rhea what she wanted. But she also gave her so much more. She took the vibrator and turned it back on, holding it in her palm against Rhea's clit as her fingers continued their steady pace.
"Fuck~" Rhea's back arched, and her eyes closed again. The waves of pleasure shot up her spine and down her legs. It was like Rhea could feel every nerve in her body as she fell over the edge and into the pool of bliss of her orgasm in Stevie's arms.
Stevie smiled as she felt Rhea squeeze around her fingers. She held the vibrator where it was until Rhea felt every wave of pleasure crashing over her.
Once Rhea's orgasm was over, Stevie turned off the vibrator and placed it to the side. Gently, Stevie moved Rhea so that she could close her legs, wanting to make sure that she was comfortable and not straining any muscles. "Easy now," Stevie whispered, her tone gentle and affectionate, holding Rhea against her chest as Rhea caught her breath. Stevie's hands went to Rhea's legs. She could feel how rigid and tense Rhea's muscles were, so she gently began to massage them so she could start to work out any cramps and soreness before it happened. "You did so good," Stevie whispered, and she kissed Rhea's shoulder.
"I didn't do much," Rhea chuckled breathlessly, turning her head to look into Stevie's eyes. Stevie's kiss and her words were gentle and reassuring, and Rhea just wanted to soak in the feelings that Stevie was creating for her.
"Shush, just let me be nice," Stevie said with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Rhea with her heart in them. Her arms around Rhea are so warm and comforting.
Maybe falling for stevie wouldn't be too bad.
Chapter 25: Football Fight
Summary:
"I'm always ready," Rhea affirmed, her words resonating with self-assurance. The audience's energy heightened the atmosphere, creating a charged ambiance that Rhea embraced with familiarity and excitement.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Are you ready for this Promo?" As Damian posed the question about the impending promo, a wave of anticipation washed over Rhea, jolting her back to the present moment. The memory of Stevie seizing control lingered in her mind, a vivid recollection that refused to fade even after two weeks. The entire team stood poised in their complete gear, on the cusp of entering the vibrant arena.
With a confident smirk, Rhea responded to Damian's query, her assurance palpable. She took a fleeting moment to readjust the straps on her thigh harness, a small ritual, before stepping into the spotlight. The resounding cheers of the crowd just beyond the curtain enveloped her, infusing her with the familiar electric thrill that defined the prelude to a WWE performance.
"I'm always ready," Rhea affirmed, her words resonating with self-assurance. The audience's energy heightened the atmosphere, creating a charged ambiance that Rhea embraced with familiarity and excitement.
However, Finn, with a tinge of almost disdain, injected a note of caution into the conversation. "You all know that Outright will probably interrupt," he remarked, his tone betraying a hint of disgust. The impending confrontation with Outright loomed, casting a shadow over the team's preparations and adding an extra layer of tension to the already charged air.
As Rhea glanced towards the curtain, concealing the widening smile that betrayed her anticipation, she harboured the certainty that Outright would indeed make an interruption. Stevie had forewarned her about taking charge of the promo, and despite the expected disruption, Rhea couldn't help but relish the prospect of sharing the spotlight with her.
The time elapsed since their last in-ring encounter amounted to just under a month, yet the intensity of their history and rivalry transformed it into what felt like a lifetime. For Rhea, the desire to engage in the unique dynamic she and Stevie shared was palpable. Their chemistry in promos, a skill they honed even during their days of hatred, was something they excelled at. The quick-witted exchange of insults and jabs could electrify the audience, leaving them on the edge of their seats in anticipation of the impending match.
Even when their animosity toward each other was palpable, Rhea and Stevie were renowned for delivering compelling promos. Their verbal exchanges, marked by quick-witted insults and jabs, had the audience on the edge of their seats, eagerly anticipating the following clash. Now, with the added layer of their secret connection, Rhea relished every opportunity to inject moments of laughter into their interactions. In the delicate dance between rivalry and intimacy, the prospect of tonight's promo with Stevie ignited a spark of joy in Rhea that she couldn't wholly conceal behind her composed demeanour.
A surge of anticipation rippled through Rhea as she cracked her neck, the satisfying pop echoing the tension building within her. Rolling her shoulder back, she subtly adjusted her posture, a physical manifestation of the impending confrontation. Puffing her chest out, she inhaled deeply, drawing in the charged atmosphere surrounding her.
With a nod from Finn, the orchestrator of their entrance, Rhea stepped purposefully onto the stage and into the arena. The transition from the backstage shadows to the glaring spotlight intensified the sensory experience. The deafening roar of the crowd enveloped her, a tangible force that reverberated through every fibre of her being. The collective energy of the audience was so palpable that it seemed to vibrate not only in the air but also in the very floors beneath her, creating a low, constant hum that underscored the pulsating rhythm of their entrance music.
The arena, a sea of faces and flashing lights unfolded before her. The intensity of the moment was heightened by the buzzing anticipation as if the very air crackled with electricity. The blaring cheers and the hum of the music combined to create a symphony of excitement that resonated with Rhea's every step.
In that instant, as she made her way toward the ring, Rhea felt the convergence of raw emotion and adrenaline. The visceral connection with the crowd, the luminosity of the arena lights, and the distant echoes of their music blended into an intoxicating cocktail, heightening the sheer adrenaline rush that defined this journey toward the ring.
Once they reached the center of the ring, Damian Priest seized the microphone, his voice booming through the arena like a thunderclap. "Rise to the judgment day, the true rulers of Monday Night Raw!" His declaration reverberated through the space, stirring a mix of cheers and jeers from the crowd. The dichotomy of their response only served to fuel Rhea's excitement even further.
As the cheers and boos continued to swirl around them, Damian continued, his words carrying the weight of authority and anticipation. "Tonight marks a reckoning, a judgment day where the forces of Raw will assert their dominance like never before. We stand united, a formidable front, ready to conquer whatever challenges lie ahead."
The crowd's reaction intensified a sea of signs and outstretched hands expressing support and disdain. Rhea, caught amid this maelstrom, couldn't help but feed off the energy. The promise of an epic confrontation hung in the air.
As Finn confidently addressed the camera, his smirk carrying a blend of arrogance and assurance, he declared, "And that includes every pathetic attempt Outright makes to dethrone us," his gaze piercing into one of the nearby cameras. The promise of defiance hung in the air as Finn continued, "Outright has made it their mission to take us down at every chance they get, and we're-"
His words were abruptly cut off by the sudden eruption of Outright's entrance music, shattering the momentary calm. The arena resonated with the blaring sound as Cody, Sami, Kevin, and Stevie emerged from backstage, a united front against the reigning force of Raw. Rhea's gaze fixated on Stevie, and an undeniable excitement coursed through her. It felt like a vibrant hum, an electric undercurrent that pulsed beneath her skin.
Maintaining her composure, Rhea donned the signature smirk that defined her presence. Stevie and the rest of Outright approached the ring purposefully, the atmosphere crackling with tension. The anticipation reached a crescendo as Stevie, holding a microphone, took center stage. A charismatic smile lit up her face, adding a touch of humour to the charged atmosphere.
"Hold on, hold on," Stevie's voice resonated through the arena, her charismatic demeanour drawing a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd. "You didn't think you could mention us without us coming out now, did you?" she continued, setting the stage for a verbal showdown. The energy in the arena buzzed with anticipation as Rhea, amidst the whirlwind of emotions, stood ready for the next chapter to unfold in this dramatic saga.
"Stevie, it's been a while," Rhea declared with a smirk, embracing the theatricality of their storied rivalry. "Still riding on your teammate's coattails, I see."
Stevie, undeterred, shot back with a sly grin. "Oh princess, if anyone knows anything about riding on coattails, it'd be Dominik," she quipped, eliciting laughter from the crowd at the unexpected twist of the insult. Dominik, visibly fuming, bore the brunt of the joke while the audience revelled in the humour. Stevie, however, remained focused, her eyes locked on Rhea's.
The banter between them took on a new dimension of amusement, a delightful exchange fueled by the knowledge of their secret relationship. Rhea's smirk widened, the joy of their shared secret amplifying the thrill of their verbal sparring. The crowd, caught in the crossfire of their banter, was treated to a spectacle that transcended the lines and quips, and Rhea revelled in the electric energy that charged the arena.
"What do you want, Stevie?" Dominik interjected angrily, his frustration evident. "We're in the middle of—"
"Hush now, Dom Dom, the adults are speaking," Kevin interjected, injecting a note of sarcasm into his retort.
"It does figure that your team would be the ones stupid enough to interrupt Judgment Day in the middle of a promo," Damian chimed in, his glare directed particularly at Stevie. "And if the adults are truly talking, maybe the little girl should go home," he added, his tone dripping with malice. "It's about your nap time, isn't it?"
Stevie, adept at maintaining her composure, managed to conceal her anger behind her characteristic crooked grin. However, Rhea, attuned to the subtleties, noticed the darkening intensity in Stevie's eyes. The fire within Stevie hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface, and Rhea sensed that Damian was playing a dangerous game.
"Damian, have I ever told you I love this long pleather vest dress thing you got going on?" Stevie remarked, her gaze fixed on the long leather vest Damian wore. Confusion and suspicion crossed Damian's face as he processed the unexpected compliment. "It's like we got a whole cosplay convention in town," she continued, turning the compliment into a jab with her trademark wit. Stevie gestured toward the rest of the Judgment Day, adding, "All of the cenobites." Her crooked grin flashed again, eliciting cheers and laughter from the audience, who couldn't help but be charmed by her humour.
While it might not have been one of Stevie's most brilliant jokes, the way she glanced at Kevin to gauge his reaction and how Kevin shook his head with a mix of disappointment and suppressed laughter added a layer of endearment. At that moment, Rhea's heart melted a bit. It wasn't just about Stevie's quick humour and seemingly unlimited charm; it was the glimpse into the friendship among the members of Outright that resonated with Rhea. Seeing Stevie's closeness with her team deepened Rhea's admiration and affection for her. In that arena of verbal sparring, Rhea found herself falling for Stevie even more.
"What Stevie has yet to get at," Cody asserted, seizing control of the promo to articulate their purpose, "is that as much as you think we are pathetic, we will continue to—" As Cody continued delivering the message, Rhea's attention shifted to Stevie. Their eyes met in a subtle exchange that transcended the ongoing verbal battle.
At that moment, amidst the charged atmosphere of the promo, Stevie's amused smirk transformed ever so slightly into a more affectionate one. A barely noticeable shift that spoke volumes. Stevie nodded ever so subtly at Rhea, a silent acknowledgment of their shared secret. It was a private exchange, an intimate connection amid the public spectacle, weaving a thread of understanding and affection that bound them together beyond the scripted drama of the ring.
"-So watch your back," Cody concluded the promo, his stern gaze fixed on Finn and Damian.
"That was by far the most boring speech you've ever given," Finn retorted, chuckling as he glanced at Damian and Dominik for validation. "Maybe if you had some talented people on your team, you'd have some better promos."
"You're saying we're not talented?" Kevin started angrily, Finn's insult hitting a nerve inside him. "We're-"
“Laissez le castor s'amuser. Tout ce qu'il fait, c'est faire passer son équipe pour des imbéciles. Ils n'ont pas besoin de notre aide pour se faire passer pour des idiots. [1]” Stevie interjected in French. Rhea recognized that Stevie switched to French when she sensed Kevin's escalating anger. It was a sweet gesture, a way for Stevie to help Kevin refrain from saying something he might regret.
"ah, tu as raison, il ressemble un peu à un castor[2]," Sami added, the camaraderie evident as Kevin and Stevie shared a chuckle.
But Finn, undeterred, just laughed. "aw, are we too afraid to say that to our face? You had to switch to a different language to hide?"
“Tu voir? idiot. Il ne peut même pas dire qu'on le traite d'idiot et c'est le même mot en anglais. [3]” Stevie continued, nudging Kevin as he smirked at Finn..
"Cut it out!" Finn snapped, his frustration evident as the tension escalated in the ring. The verbal sparring had reached a boiling point, and the air crackled with anticipation of what would come next in this scripted but intensely real drama.
"Oh, I'm sorry," stevie said sarcastically to Finn, "You know us Canadians. We just love our beavers." this made Sami and Kevin snort and laugh harder. "this promo is obviously finished, so if you'll excuse us we have some actual work to do," stevie said, starting to leave the ring.
"This isn't over, stevie," Rhea said, her devilish smirk back on for the show.
"Of course it isn't princess," stevie said, returning the smirk with one of her own.
As Stevie gracefully exited the ring, a subtle yearning lingered in Rhea's gaze. The lingering notes of their banter, the unspoken camaraderie, fueled an anticipation that transcended the scripted drama. The vibrant energy of the arena seemed to pause, caught in the delicate interlude between performances.
As the arena's din enveloped her, Rhea's mind danced with the echo of Stevie's departing presence. A cascade of unasked questions flowed within her, an unquenched curiosity eager to be satiated. She cradled the desire to unravel the whispered exchanges between Stevie and Sami, the secrets that had passed through shared glances and hidden smiles.
Yet, in the artful masquerade of their wrestling personas, Rhea maintained the façade of Stevie's bitter rival. Her outward demeanour echoed the animosity cultivated for the crowd's pleasure, concealing the clandestine connection they shared beneath the surface. The seconds ticked away, each moment meticulously counted in her mind like a delicate dance of anticipation.
In the quiet intermission between the spotlight's harsh glare, Rhea yearned for the reunion awaiting beyond the fake enmity. She craved the private sanctuary where the roles they played faded, where the masks could be set aside. The allure of holding Stevie in her arms cast a shadow of impatience over her, a sentiment whispered in the silent language of their unspoken affection.
The arena, a stage for grand spectacles and orchestrated rivalries, became a canvas for the unsung emotions that pulsed beneath the surface. As Rhea navigated the theatricality with practiced ease, she couldn't help but revel in the poetic tension surrounding the impending reunion. The scripted drama paled compared to the unspoken poetry etched in the spaces between their glances. It was a tale of longing and connection waiting to be unfurled in the quiet intimacy that followed the final curtain call.
Notes:
[1] "Let the beaver have his fun. The only thing he's doing is making his team look like fools. They don't need our help making themselves look stupid."
[2] "ah, you're right. He does look like a beaver a little bit."
[3] "You see? Idiot. He can't even tell we're calling him an idiot, and it's the same word in English."
Chapter 26: Doing All Right
Summary:
"I'm not going to scream. When have I ever—" Stevie began, her protest cut short when she caught the knowing look in Rhea's eyes. "Okay, maybe sometimes I scream, but—" Stevie paused once more, her words trailing off as Rhea's knowing gaze intensified. "Alright, fine! I promise I won't scream. Just tell me!" Stevie whisper-yelled, a chuckle escaping her lips, her curiosity piqued.
Chapter Text
Over the past three months, their clandestine romance had taken on a life of its own. A forbidden affection, once dormant, now burgeoned into a tapestry of intimacy. Moments seized for stolen glances and whispered words became threads intricately woven, their passionate connection unfurling with every clandestine dash to meet in the shadows. Within the hushed embrace of dark hotel rooms, conversations became sonnets whispered in secret, and the symphony of late-night calls and text messages served as the notes composing the melody of their clandestine love.
Through these hidden corridors, where secrecy painted the walls in muted hues, their connection found solace, flourishing and finding a home in the labyrinthine chambers of their hearts. As if guided by an unseen hand, they were woven together, each thread drawing them closer, the intimacy between them growing with the grace of passing moments. It was a tapestry of emotions, where the stolen glances and whispered confessions became the stitches that bound them, creating a portrait of love unfolding in the hidden recesses of their shared existence.
The secrecy that enveloped their relationship served not as an impediment but as a catalyst for their personal growth, both in the delicate threads that bound them and within the visceral world of the wrestling arena. Although the wrestling stage had yet to witness a match between them since their union, the synergy of Rhea and Stevie's connection translated into a harmonious blend of prowess and passion.
As they meticulously honed their craft, the wrestling ring transformed into a grand stage where their confidence soared to new heights. The unspoken understanding between them manifested in unyielding support, a force that radiated from the shadows and propelled them to dizzying peaks in their respective matches. The audience, unaware of the silent dance unfolding, marvelled at the newfound prowess displayed by Rhea and Stevie, captivated by the enigmatic source of their inspiration.
With each victory, Rhea and Stevie's confidence swelled, their performances feeding into a collective crescendo of success. The wrestling world became an unwitting witness to their ascent, a journey marked by triumphs that mirrored the blossoming romance beneath the surface.
As their prowess grew, so too did the depth of their love. Falling for each other became an art, a dance of emotions played out with each match. Each shared victory and every quiet moment behind the scenes. Rhea and Stevie, bathed in the afterglow of success, practically exuded happiness and love like two enamoured teenagers caught in the throes of newfound passion. The wrestling arena, oblivious to the love story unfolding within its confines, became the unwitting backdrop for the symphony of emotions between Rhea and Stevie, a melody that whispered of a love deepening with each passing victory.
During this transformative period, Adam Pearce, the mastermind orchestrating the intricate tales of their wrestling exploits, beckoned Rhea into his office. As she stepped over the threshold, the atmosphere within the room underwent a subtle transformation. The air, pregnant with anticipation, seemed to envelop her, each molecule laden with the weight of expectation. The office, a sanctum of wrestling narratives, bore the marks of a seasoned maestro adorned with memorabilia that chronicled the storied history of the sport.
Pearce, a venerable figurehead in the wrestling cosmos, met her gaze with a glint that spoke of sagacity—an unspoken acknowledgment of the raw talent and untapped potential that simmered within Rhea. As she seated herself across from Pearce at his imposing desk, the polished surface adorned with championship relics, Rhea's senses heightened, attuned to the gravity of the impending revelation. The leather chair beneath her seemed to cradle the anticipation, its contours moulding to the weight of her expectations.
Patiently, Rhea awaited Pearce's words, her eyes fixed on him like a canvas awaiting the stroke of the artist's brush. However, a wariness tempered her eagerness; she dared not inflate her hopes prematurely. The office, a bastion of wrestling legacies, witnessed the silent dance between anticipation and restraint that played out within her.
"Rhea," Pearce finally began, his voice carrying a resonance that hinted at momentous tidings.
Rhea takes a breath and listens intently to Pearce's words, a glint in her eyes as he begins to speak. There's a hint of eagerness as she waits for him to continue. "Yes, Adam? What is it?"
"I've been keeping a close eye on how far you've come. Your dedication and improvement haven't slipped past my radar," Adam mentioned, casually adjusting his glasses as he spoke.
Rhea listens closely, maintaining her focus on Pearce as he speaks. She nods along, taking the compliment in stride. "Well, I appreciate that. I've been working hard to improve…" she added, her skepticism poking through, assuming there was a catch lurking behind his compliment. "but?"
"There's no 'but,'" he assured, leaning back with a soft creak of the leather chair. And then, he casually dropped the bombshell that shattered any lingering doubts. "I want to offer you a rematch with Charlotte Flair at SummerSlam."
Rhea's eyes widen at Pearce's words, her heart racing as she processes what he said. "A… rematch with Charlotte Flair? At SummerSlam?" She pauses, taking a moment to compose herself. Then, she lets out a nervous chuckle.
"Oh... wow. That's huge. I mean, Charlotte and I have been…and to get the opportunity to face her again, especially at a pay-per-view as big as SummerSlam, is..." She trails off, shaking her head in disbelief.
Rhea's eyes light up as Pearce continues to speak, a newfound excitement evident in her voice. "For a shot at the championship? Seriously?" She can't contain her excitement, a smile spreading across her face.
Adam nodded approvingly. "You've earned it, Rhea. Now, I won't hold you up. Get ready for the show tonight, and I'll send Finn the contract for you to sign," he said with a smile. "Sound good?"
Oh, a rematch with Charlotte? How delightful. Maybe this time, you'll manage not to embarrass yourself. I mean, let's not forget the last encounter, shall we? A loss that spoke volumes about your 'talent' and 'skill.' Quite the spectacle, wasn't it? Maybe this rematch is just a pity gesture from the management, giving you another chance to prove you're not a complete failure.
A mixture of gratitude and excitement washed over Rhea. "Yes, thank you," she replied, rising from her seat. Chuckling nervously, she nodded her appreciation before making her exit. Alone in the hallways, Rhea allowed herself a triumphant fist pump and a whispered "Let's freaking go!" before composing herself, slipping back into her usual expression.
Rhea, don't let those negative thoughts get to you. Everyone faces setbacks, and what matters is how you rise above them. Stevie is with you because she sees something incredible in you, not just in the ring but as a person. Your strength, determination, and passion are what she admires. The past is just that – the past. This rematch is a chance for you to show the world how much you've grown, and Stevie will be right there cheering you on.
Eager to share the good news, Rhea set off to find Stevie, ready to let her in on the exciting developments. The wrestling world was in for a surprise, and Rhea couldn't wait to unfold the next chapter in her journey.
In the labyrinth of the bustling locker room, Rhea finally located Stevie amidst the sea of wrestlers and the din of pre-show preparations. The ambiance buzzed with energy, and the scent of anticipation lingered in the air. Stevie engrossed in the ritual of changing into her wrestling gear, became the focal point of Rhea's quest.
Summoning an air of urgency, Rhea entered the locker room, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Stevie in her attire transformation. "Stevie, I need a word," she declared, infusing her tone with a semblance of anger. It was a calculated act, a theatrical maneuver to provide them with the perfect alibi—an excuse to be seen entering a private space together without inviting unwanted attention.
"Huh?" Stevie responded with a quizzical expression, colouring her features. However, as her eyes met Rhea's, a mischievous smirk curved her lips. "Why should I, princess?" she teased, playing the game and trying to stir the pot a little.
"Now," Rhea insisted, her resolve firm as she brushed past Stevie. In a swift move, she caught the back of Stevie's top, gently pulling her towards the concealed sanctuary of a private dressing room tucked away at the back of the locker room. Once inside, Rhea deftly turned the lock, ensuring their clandestine conversation remained undisturbed by prying eyes.
The room, dimly lit and cloaked in a sense of privacy, became the canvas for the unfolding drama. Without wasting a moment, Rhea drew Stevie into a kiss, the door muffling any external sounds. The taste of the stolen moment lingered in the air as their lips met in a silent dance of affection.
Stevie, ever the playful spirit, reciprocated the kiss, the spark of shared emotions igniting a brief but intense connection. However, after a fleeting moment, she gently pulled away, a bemused expression dancing in her eyes. "Woah, woah, what's got the sun up your butt?" Stevie whispered, a chuckle escaping her lips as she tried deciphering the motive behind Rhea's unexpected urgency.
"You've got to promise me you won't scream," Rhea implored in a hushed voice, her grin stretching from ear to ear, a playful spark dancing in her eyes.
"I'm not going to scream. When have I ever—" Stevie began, her protest cut short when she caught the knowing look in Rhea's eyes. "Okay, maybe sometimes I scream, but—" Stevie paused once more, her words trailing off as Rhea's knowing gaze intensified. "Alright, fine! I promise I won't scream. Just tell me!" Stevie whisper-yelled, a chuckle escaping her lips, her curiosity piqued.
"I got a rematch with Charlotte for the belt," Rhea announced, her excitement bubbling over as she squeezed Stevie's hand in a burst of uncontainable joy.
Stevie's eyes widened, but before she could react, Rhea swiftly placed her hand over Stevie's mouth, effectively silencing any potential shout of surprise. "Baby, you said you weren't going to scream," Rhea laughed hushedly.
Sure, the last match didn't go as planned, but it doesn't define you. Learn from it, use it to fuel your drive, and prove to everyone, including yourself, that you're more than capable. Stevie loves you for who you are, not for a win-loss record. So, go out there, give it your all, and remember, you're not alone in this journey. Stevie's support will be your biggest strength, both in and out of the ring.
"Rhea!" Stevie whispered loudly, almost a whisper-yell. "You're going to be the next women's world champion! How could I not be loud?" Unable to contain her enthusiasm, Stevie pulled Rhea into a tight, exuberant hug, the moment's excitement enveloping them in a shared embrace. The locker room, oblivious to their joyous revelation, became a sanctuary for their shared delight, a secret oasis in the bustling world of wrestling anticipation.
"Shh," Rhea whispered, her shushing accompanied by gentle laughter, wrapping Stevie in a tight, affectionate hug. "You're going to get us caught."
Stevie must be thrilled to be dating someone with such a stellar track record. 'Oh, my girlfriend, the one who couldn't hold her own against Charlotte Flair.' Quite the catch, Rhea. Maybe you should start preparing your excuses in advance, or do you enjoy being the laughingstock of the wrestling world?
Laughing stock? No way. You have the chance to rewrite the narrative, to turn the tables on those who doubt you. Stevie chose you because she believes in your potential. Make this rematch an opportunity to showcase your abilities and silence the critics. You're not defined by one match; you're limited by your resilience, character, and the love you and Stevie share.
"Oh my god, you're going to kick her butt. I'm going to be dating the champion, holy shit," Stevie whispered, her excitement bubbling over as she hugged Rhea even tighter. "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!" The joyous whispers of celebration echoed in the cozy bubble of their shared excitement, creating a moment of sheer delight that felt like a warm embrace in the heart of the bustling world around them.
Chapter 27: I Go Crazy
Summary:
“Charlotte go bother someone else who gives a shit,” Rhea said, still speaking like she didn’t care. Rhea looked up, meeting Charlotte's gaze with a steely resolve. "I've beaten you before, and I'll do it again. This time, with the championship on the line."
Chapter Text
After hearing the good news, Stevie and Rhea returned to the locker room to finish getting ready for Raw. However, it was clear from Stevie's expression that she could barely contain her excitement. The air in the locker room was charged with anticipation and energy, and there was a palpable sense of anticipation in the air. While Rhea continued her pre-show routine in the dimly lit locker room, Stevie snuck glances in her direction and flashed her excited smile, waiting for Rhea to notice-
“Stevie, for fucks sake,” Rhea sighed, trying not to laugh when she spied the can of monster on her station. Rhea was used to Stevie's antics at this point, and it had become somewhat of a running gag between them.
“Oh, did I do that?” Stevie asks, also trying not to laugh, the usual morning routine of messing with each other continuing despite their relationship.
"I hate you," Rhea said, trying to sound like she meant it, but Stevie could see the affection in Rhea's eyes. Stevie could see that Rhea did not mean the words as she was saying them but was only putting on an act for the other women in the locker room.
“Not as much as I hate you," Stevie said quietly, keeping her head down and facing her locker so the rest of the women in the locker room could not see her blush. Stevie was trying to hide her reaction, but she could not entirely hide the blush that spread across her cheeks when seeing the look in Rhea’s eyes.
As stevie focused on lacing her boots, the door swung open with a creak, and a familiar, unwelcome figure stepped in. Charlotte Flair, a sly grin playing on her lips as she sauntered toward Rhea. "Well, well, look who's on cloud nine," Charlotte mocked, her tone dripping with condescension. "A rematch with me, huh? Think you can win this time, or are you just happy to have another chance at failure?"
Who does she think she is, mocking Rhea like that? That arrogant smirk on her face, taunting Rhea about failure. She's got some nerve.
Rhea stops doing her makeup when she hears Charlotte's voice, her head slowly turning toward her with a steely gaze. She takes in the sight of her new number-one rival with a scowl on her face, not bothering to hide her disdain. "Charlotte, you know I don't have time for this," she says flatly, lacing up the final tie on her boots with a curt nod. "I'm busy preparing for tonight, so if you don't mind." She turns her back on Charlotte as if signalling an end to the conversation.
Charlotte's grin widened at Rhea's dismissive tone. She revelled in the opportunity to ruffle her opponent's feathers, especially when victory was already dancing in her imagination. "Oh, don't worry, Rhea. I wouldn't dream of interrupting your intense preparation for our match," Charlotte replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She casually leaned against a nearby locker, crossing her arms as she taunted Rhea. "But you see, I just couldn't resist stopping by to remind you of what's at stake at SummerSlam. But I guess now that your little catfights with Stevie aren’t happening anymore, I figured she’d need to be shown what a real wrestler fights like." Charlotte added a wicked glint in her eyes.
Real wrestler? Oh, please. Rhea doesn't need this trash-talking. She's proven herself time and again in that ring. Charlotte's just trying to get under her skin because she knows she can't match up.
“Leave me out of it. Our match tonight has nothing to do with the match at SummerSlam,” Stevie declared, her voice carrying a note of neutrality. She continued lacing up her boots, refusing to let Charlotte's words disrupt her own mental preparation for the upcoming match between the two of them.
And now she's dragging you into this, insulting both of you. What a bitch.
Charlotte, undeterred, turned her attention to Stevie. "Oh, Stevie, darling, don't act like you're not a part of this. After tonight, Rhea will need someone to comfort her when she realizes she's not on my level," Charlotte sneered, her tone dripping with arrogance. “As pathetic as Rhea is, it will probably be her old rival.”
What did she say? Stand up for Rhea, Stevie. Don't let this arrogant queen belittle her. Let her know she's messing with the wrong people. Fuck her up. Punch that smug fucking smirk off her face.
Stevie felt the anger light inside her, the way Charlotte spoke about Rhea like she was nothing like Rhea wasn’t a million times better than Charlotte would ever be.
“Charolette go bother someone else who gives a shit,” Rhea said, still speaking like she didn’t care. Rhea looked up, meeting Charlotte's gaze with a steely resolve. "I've beaten you before, and I'll do it again. This time, with the championship on the line."
Charlotte chuckled dismissively. "Beat me? Please. I will enjoy making Stevie suffer in our match more than you ever could. Maybe she'll finally realize that all the time she spent fighting you was nothing but a waste of time. Just as much of a waste of time our match will be at Summer Slam."
She's trying to plant doubts, Stevie. Don't let her. Show her that her words won't get under your skin. You're better than that. And Rhea deserves someone who stands up for her, especially against this arrogant nonsense."
Rhea's jaw clenched, her patience wearing thin. "Keep Stevie out of this. Our relationship has nothing to do with what happens in the ring."
“Aw, standing up for her now, are we?” Charlotte smirked. “Maybe your rivalry isn’t as strong as everyone thinks it is,” she says with a smirk.
Stevie was too mad to care that Charlotte’s implication could break their covers. She was seeing red. But Rhea managed to keep her cool, glaring at Charlotte coldly.
Charlotte, satisfied with the reaction she had garnered, pushed off the locker and strolled toward the exit. "Well, ladies, I'll leave you to your little preparations. See you in the ring," she taunted before strolling out of the room.
Rhea lets out a sigh of annoyance as Charlotte leaves, rolling her eyes at the so-called Queen’s antics. Rhea goes back to doing her makeup, turning back to the mirror. "She’s really something else, isn't she?" Rhea says with a chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief.
Stevie, can you believe the audacity? The nerve of that woman to disrespect you, to question your place in Rhea's life. Don't let her get away with it. You've got to show her, show them all, that you're not to be trifled with.
But stevie felt her anger rising. Stevie's hands tightened around the laces, pulling them tighter and tighter as she finished getting ready for her match. Once she was done, she turned to her locker and shut it.
She's trying to undermine you, Stevie. To make you doubt yourself, doubt your worth. Are you going to let her?
Stevie's knuckles turned white as she clenched the door to her locker, a silent fume building within her.
Let that anger out, Stevie. Let it fuel you in the ring. Make her regret the day she underestimated you, underestimated the fire that burns within.
Stevie's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together.
She thinks she can walk all over you, over both of you. Don't let her. Channel that rage, Stevie. Show her the storm she just unleashed. You're not just Rhea's partner; you're a force to be reckoned with. Make her feel the repercussions of every slight. Show her the consequences of underestimating the power of your connection.
Stevie turned to the door, ready to go out for her match
Yes, Stevie. Let the rage consume you. Make her pay for every word, for every insult. This is your moment to assert your strength, your dominance. Don't hold back. Let the aggression flow.
"Stevie," Rhea said, maintaining an air of casual nonchalance amidst the other women in the locker room, "make her regret every word." Rhea's words carried a confident smirk, a subtle agreement passing between them that brought a reciprocating smile to Stevie's lips.
Chapter 28: Flick of the Wrist
Summary:
"Does it matter? You know she always delivers in the ring when she's in this mood."
Chapter Text
"What's eating at her so much?"
"I have no idea."
"She stormed out of the locker room like a hurricane."
"Does it matter? You know she always delivers in the ring when she's in this mood."
"But doesn't it feel a bit off to let her carry that anger just because she'll come out on top? Isn't that, like, unethical?"
"Are you volunteering to go ask her? Because I'm not stepping between her and that ring when she's like this."
"No way. Last time I tried, she was practically breathing fire."
"But we should probably know what's happening. It just feels wrong. I mean, a team that hides things from each other-"
"-Is a team that loses. We know"
Amid the hushed discussions of Kevin, Sami, and Cody backstage, waiting behind the curtain for Stevie's match, she remained oblivious to their words. Her mind was a storm of fury.
Oh, girl, let me tell you, that fury in your veins is like rocket fuel! Charlotte won't even know what hit her,
Fury at Charlotte's words.
I mean, seriously, did you hear what she said about Rhea? Unbelievable! But you, you're about to serve her a reality check like she's never seen.
Fury at Charlotte's disrespect toward Rhea.
Oh, let the rage consume you. Feel the fury, the burning resentment at Charlotte's insolence. She dares to mock, to disrespect Rhea, your connection. Let that anger be your strength, your weapon in the imminent battle.
A relentless tide of fury surged through Stevie, an all-encompassing torrent of anger that coursed within her veins. Her fingers coiled around the familiar, weathered hand wraps, silent witnesses to the multitude of battles she had waged in the wrestling arena. The fabric, etched with the narrative of her wrestling odyssey, bore the indelible marks of sweat stains and frayed edges, testaments to the countless skirmishes they had weathered alongside her.
Yes, grip them tighter. These wraps, stained with the sweat of countless struggles, bear witness to your journey. Let the fabric absorb the rage, channelling it into the impending clash. Each clench and unclench is a declaration of defiance, a prelude to the storm you're about to unleash.
In a rhythmic dance, Stevie clenched and unclenched her fists, the anticipation to step into the ring intensifying with every movement. The worn hand wraps echoed the cadence of her emotions, a palpable connection to the journey that had brought her to this moment. The very texture of the fabric under her touch told tales of resilience and triumph.
The arena pulsed with the electrifying energy of the impending match, and Stevie's frustration mounted. The sound of Charlotte's entrance music acted as a catalyst, further stoking the flames of her anger. Each note amplifies the seething current within her, a symphony of tension and anticipation. The desire to unleash her emotions in the ring became an undeniable force, propelling her toward the impending clash with an intensity that mirrored the storm raging within.
Ah, the music, the sweet precursor to chaos. Let it be the anthem of your wrath, the melody of retribution. With every note, feel the flames of frustration rise. Charlotte's disrespect and the audacity of her words fuel the fire within you.
The melodic strains of Stevie's entrance music filled the arena, signalling her impending arrival. In a departure from her usual routine, there was no pause for dramatic effect, no waiting for the designated cue. With a determined stride, Stevie emerged from backstage, a manifestation of focused purpose.
Feel that energy? It's like the whole place is waiting for the hurricane named Stevie to hit. Your entrance, no dramatic pause, no waiting around. You're not just entering; you're storming in, making a statement before the bell even rings.
Uncharacteristically, she didn't cast a glance backward to ensure Cody, Sami, and Kevin were behind. Instead, an air of solitary determination surrounded her as if the music itself propelled her forward. The audience, accustomed to the theatrics of wrestling entrances, witnessed a departure from the norm—a wrestler walking into the spotlight with unwavering resolve, leaving behind the expected rituals in favour of a singular mission.
In the heart of the wrestling arena, the spotlight cast its glow upon Charlotte, who stood confidently in the center of the ring. A self-satisfied smirk adorned her face as she locked eyes with Stevie, who was ascending the ring steps. The air was charged with anticipation as Samantha's authoritative voice reverberated through the arena, each word adding to the mounting tension.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Samantha's voice echoed through the arena's speakers, "the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, representing Outright and accompanied to the ring by Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn, and Cody Rhodes – Stevie Turner!"
Look at your team, Stevie. Kevin, Sami, Cody—they're not just your allies; they're your family on this journey. Feel that unity, that shared purpose. This match isn't just about you; it's about the bonds you've forged and the statement you're about to make,
A steadfast resolve marked Stevie's entrance into the spotlight. Unswayed by the dazzle of the camera flashes or the sea of eager faces in the crowd, she maintained an unwavering focus. The usual crooked smile, her signature, was conspicuously absent from her lips. Instead, she projected an intensity reminiscent of a patient predator, coiled and poised to strike at the opportune moment.
Listen to that, Stevie! The crowd's roaring like a tidal wave, and it's all for you.
"And her opponent," Samantha continued, her voice resonating with the gravity of the impending clash, "she is the Women's World champion, Charlotte Flair!" As Charlotte raised her arms in a gesture of dominance, the atmosphere crackled with the energy of an imminent showdown between two formidable forces.
She's in for a world of hurt.
The arena pulsated with the crowd's energy, their roars and cheers creating a symphony of anticipation. Stevie stood alone in the spotlight, her silhouette outlined against the dimmed lights, the air heavy with the scent of anticipation. The canvas beneath her boots felt firm, a familiar grounding that heightened her senses. She wasn't here for a title shot, and she knew it. The ring, illuminated by the harsh glow of the overhead lights, became a battleground for a personal vendetta.
The crowd's excitement reached a crescendo as Stevie raised her fists, the crowd split between the Outright faithful and those who anticipated the clash with Charlotte. Stevie's gaze remained fixed on her opponent, a predator in the arena's midst, ready to pounce.
The referee, a mere formality in this storm of emotions, checked with both competitors. The bell rang, signalling the beginning of a contest fueled by a deeper purpose. The crowd's roar became a backdrop as Stevie circled Charlotte, a dance of determination and defiance.
With each step, the canvas seemed to echo the rhythmic heartbeat of the match, a heartbeat that synchronized with Stevie's unyielding resolve. The dimmed lights, the distant hum of the crowd, and the focused intensity in Stevie's eyes created an atmosphere pregnant with significance.
Charlotte may be the Women's World champion, but at this moment, under these lights, she's just another obstacle, another stepping stone. Feel that canvas beneath your boots? It's not just a ring; it's the battleground for redemption. You're not fighting for gold; you're fighting for respect, for Rhea, and every ounce of fury coursing through your veins.
Charlotte, the seasoned provocateur, stood in the center of the ring, a smirk playing on her lips as she taunted Stevie with a dismissive wave. "Come on, little girl . Let's see what you've got," she jeered, her arrogance a palpable force.
Stevie, fueled by a surge of raw emotion, didn't hesitate. In a swift and unexpected move, she lunged at Charlotte, her every movement purposeful and calculated. The atmosphere crackled with tension as Stevie unleashed a powerful punch, manifesting her pent-up frustration and anger. The strike found its mark, connecting squarely with Charlotte's jaw.
The impact resonated through the arena, a thunderous clap that momentarily stunned both Stevie's teammates and the audience. Charlotte caught off guard, crumbled to the mat, knocked out cold by the force of Stevie's blow. The silence that followed was a dramatic pause, a heartbeat suspended in time.
Cody, Sami, and Kevin witnessing the unexpected turn of events, stared at Charlotte's limp form on the mat. A few seconds of disbelief gave way to a roaring eruption of approval. Cheers and screams filled the air as Stevie's allies celebrated her clean, instant victory. The collective voice of the crowd and Stevie's triumphant teammates created a cacophony of joy, marking the conclusion of a match that had transcended the physical confines of the ring.
Yet Stevie remained still, her gaze fixed on Charlotte sprawled on the mat. She shook her hand slightly, dispelling the lingering sting from the powerful punch she had delivered. Inhaling deeply, she rolled her shoulders back, a deliberate act to release the tension that had built up.
With measured composure, Stevie turned toward the camera. Mimicking Charlotte's signature gesture, she raised her hands, a symbolic display of dominance. The arena lights reflected off the sheen of sweat on her forehead, and the crowd, once raucous in celebration, hushed for a moment, captivated by the powerful image Stevie projected.
The camera captured the intensity in Stevie's eyes, the unspoken challenge she issued not just to Charlotte but to the entire wrestling world. In this singular moment, Stevie owned the ring, and her silent proclamation echoed louder than any words could convey.
Chapter 29: Love of My Life
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rhea stood backstage, her eyes fixed on the monitor broadcasting Stevie's match. She was accustomed to witnessing Stevie's impressive performances, but tonight was different. As she watched in awe, a sense of profound admiration and pride welled up within her. The entire Judgment Day event seemed to hold its breath as if the world paused to witness the unfolding spectacle.
Stevie, usually a masterful entertainer in the ring, now transcended her standards. This wasn't just a match; it was a visceral expression of raw emotion. The intensity with which Stevie moved, the precision of the one strike, spoke volumes about the storm brewing within her. The audience, the locker room, and even the bustling chaos backstage seemed hushed in reverence.
Rhea couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with pride. The bond between them, forged in the crucible of the wrestling world, now manifested itself in the electrifying performance unfolding on the screen.
That's my girl.
Even Damian, usually stoic and composed, found himself swept up in the moment. "Dios mío,[1]" he breathed, a testament to the awe Stevie's performance inspired. The usually reserved Damian, a veteran of the industry, couldn't help but acknowledge the extraordinary nature of what was transpiring in the ring. His muttered phrase was a quiet acknowledgment of the brutal spectacle unfolding before them.
As Stevie raised her arms and stared coldly into the camera, the intensity in her eyes sent shivers down the spines of those watching. It was more than a wrestling match; it was a declaration, a challenge, a promise. At that moment, Stevie's gaze penetrated the screen, reaching across the backstage area and into the very heart of Rhea.
As Stevie made her way backstage, the air around her seemed to crackle with the residual energy of her intense performance. Her confident stride and the glint in her eyes told a story of triumph, and as she passed Rhea in the backstage corridor, a sly smirk played on her lips. Rhea, attuned to the subtleties of Stevie's expressions, recognized that smirk in an instant.
To the uninitiated, it might have appeared as Stevie indulged in the age-old tradition of taunting her rival. However, Rhea, intimately familiar with Stevie's moods, understood this was more than just a playful jab. The smirk conveyed a sense of confidence, an unspoken declaration that tonight had been a statement, not just for Stevie but for both of them.
The passing glance held a multitude of emotions—confidence, camaraderie, and an unspoken understanding that transcended the words often exchanged in their rivalry. As Stevie moved past, the heat of her presence lingered, and Rhea couldn't deny the subtle rise in temperature within her. It wasn't just the heat of competition; it was the heat of shared victories and the unspoken bond between two wrestlers who had faced the trials of the ring together.
Cody, Kevin, and Sami trailed behind Stevie, their voices a constant buzz in the background, still animatedly discussing the impact of Stevie's performance. The backstage corridor, usually a hub of hurried activity, became a stage for the aftermath of a memorable match. Rhea, amidst the chatter of Stevie's teammates, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride—a shared triumph that echoed not only within the walls of the arena but resonated through the camaraderie that defined the Outright faction.
The faction you'll never be a part of. The faction that hates you. The faction that hates your team.
Rhea's pride and excitement over Stevie's win were quickly overshadowed by a voice that carried the weight of her doubts and insecurities. The voice was familiar, and when it whispered in her ear, she could not help but feel a flood of conflicting emotions. Her stomach dropped, and she turned quickly to look at Stevie, a blush spread across her face. The voice brought back memories of past insecurities and failures, making her feel as if she was stuck in the same place that she had been years ago.
She could've blown your cover. You heard what Charlotte said. "Maybe your rivalry isn't as strong as everyone thinks it is."
The nagging feeling was always present in her mind, a dark shadow that loomed over her and threatened to cast its dark influence over any moment of joy or triumph. It was a constant presence, always there and never going away. The shadow made her doubt herself, leaving her feeling as if she was never truly able to celebrate her victories. It made her question every choice that she made and left her feeling as if she never did enough to deserve her success.
Stevie just risked a lot just because of some mean thing Charlotte said. Was it worth it? What if everyone finds out? What if Outright tells stevie you're using her again? Make her not trust you like they did before.
Rhea shudders at the thought, remembering the anger and resentment that she and her teammates have been receiving from the Outright faction. It was a constant presence, and Cody, Sami, and Kevin were not shy about voicing their displeasure and distaste for Judgment Day and were definitely not shy about telling Stevie that.
Just talk to stevie first. She was just trying to help you. She was defending you. Stevie laid Charlotte out because she insulted you. That's not a bad thing.
It's a bad thing if it means everyone will find out about your secrets. Cody will find out and turn stevie against you. They will turn stevie against you the same way everyone's turned against you.
As Rhea remembered, before she and Stevie were together, she remembered how it felt to be the lone wolf within the pack. The memories of solitude and isolation came flooding back. She shook her head, trying to regain her focus and pull herself together. She knew she had to find a way to be strong, and she tried to push the memories of her difficulties to the back of her mind. She had to find a way to be strong and to fight back, not just for her own sake but also for Stevie.
The weight of the recent events pressed heavily on Rhea's shoulders as the backstage area buzzed with post-match excitement. The need to talk to Stevie clawed at her, an urgent impulse born not just out of personal concerns but the shared intricacies of their partnership. It wasn't solely Rhea navigating her emotions now; it was a collective 'them,' a bond that had become inseparable.
As Rhea bided her time in the intimate confines of the Judgment Day dressing room, she watched the departure of Finn, Damian, and Dominik, waiting for the opportune moment to text Stevie. The memory of Stevie's decisive victory over Charlotte replayed in Rhea's mind like a cherished highlight, a surge of pride and affection swelling within her.
"Are you sure I should be in here?" Stevie questioned, glancing around the sanctum of her rival team. "It just feels wrong being in here." Her laughter carried a note of unease, a genuine expression of discomfort in the Judgement Day private space.
Rhea responded with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting understanding. She gestured for Stevie to join her, seeking a more secluded spot for their conversation. "It's fine, Stevie," Rhea reassured, her tone gentle yet persistent. "Everyone's already gone, and we needed somewhere to talk privately." She aimed for a delicate balance, not wanting to convey undue upset or aggression.
As Stevie settled beside Rhea, a brief, shared chuckle diffused the initial awkwardness. The atmosphere shifted, leaving only the two women in the quiet expanse of the Judgment Day dressing room, a canvas for the intricate interplay of their emotions and the unspoken connection that bound them together.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Stevie inquired, her gaze reflecting a mix of curiosity and nervousness as she looked at Rhea.
Rhea nodded, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. The Judgment Day dressing room, a haven for wrestlers before their grand entrances, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the impending conversation. The room bore the marks of countless pre-match preparations, with personalized gear strewn across benches and the air carrying the faint scent of sweat and adrenaline.
"I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Charlotte tonight," Rhea began, a hint of seriousness underlying her words. "First, I just want to say that I'm proud of what you did in that ring. Taking her out in one punch, that was incredible." She paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she chose her words carefully. "That said, I have to ask... why did you do it? You know, why did you lay her out like that just because of some mean thing she said?"
Stevie shifted in her seat, her eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and lingering apprehension. "She was insulting you. She called you pathetic and weak-you were there. You heard her, the way she spoke to us," Stevie explained, her voice echoing her conviction. "I was trying to defend you, to defend us ."
Rhea nodded, acknowledging Stevie's loyalty and the genuine intent behind her actions. "I know, but... that's just how Charlotte is, you know? I mean, she's just like that. It's normal for her to say mean things and get under people's skin. Plus, I can handle Charlotte. I'm used to her. But…" Rhea sighed, her gaze briefly turning away as she grappled with expressing her true sentiments. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to take my side like that."
"Why? It's not like I told everyone we're dating. I just got a little mad," Stevie defended. Her expression was a mix of frustration and confusion.
"That's the point, Stevie. You shouldn't be getting mad on my behalf," Rhea responded softly, her eyes fixed on Stevie's. As the weight of the conversation hung in the air, the Judgment Day dressing room seemed to echo with the gravity of their words. The air, tinged with the scent of anticipation, bore witness to the clash of emotions between the two wrestlers. "You have to remember what our situation looks like to other people. You can't let your emotions get the better of you like that. We're rivals on different teams . We're supposed to be fighting each other. We're supposed to hate each other." Rhea continued, her tone taking on a severity that matched the weight of the situation. She paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself as the room seemed to hold its breath.
Stevie, however, remained resolute. "You don't deserve to be talked to like that," she declared, reaching out to take Rhea's. "Just because you're going to take her belt doesn't give her the right to treat you like garbage." The warmth of Stevie's touch offered a stark contrast to the tension in the room, a silent affirmation of the bond that transcended their on-screen personas. "She was chirping nonstop. I'm not going to let her talk to you like that."
Rhea sighed a complex wave of frustration and sadness washing over her, etching lines of conflict on her forehead as she regarded Stevie with a frown. "I appreciate it, Stevie... but don't you see? That's exactly why I didn't want you defending me like that," she said, her voice firm and insistent. The Judgment Day dressing room held the tension of unspoken truths, each word hanging in the air like a weighty secret. "If you make it seem like we're so close, like we like each other, that only makes the situation look even weirder to everyone. The guys will have a fit with me. Cody and Kevin will kill you. I don't want to put our careers, your career, just because I love you. I can't do that to you," Rhea explained, her eyes meeting Stevie's with a severe look. The moment's gravity was palpable, the air charged with unspoken emotions that swirled between the two women.
But Stevie stared at Rhea in shock, her mouth slightly parted, caught off guard by the revelation. "Rhea..." she began, her voice barely a whisper, a wave of disbelief and realization washing over her.
A wave of ice hit Rhea when she recognized what she had accidentally let slip out. She froze, her eyes widened, and her heart raced as she grappled with the consequences of her unintentional admission. The words hung heavily in the room, creating a moment of profound stillness. "Stevie... I didn't..." Rhea whispered, the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders. The air seemed to crackle with tension as both women grappled with the unexpected turn of events. "Stevie... I..." Rhea trailed off, her mind racing, searching for the right words to navigate the delicate situation.
She'll leave now. She'll be scared off and go like the rest of them. You've done it now, Rhea. Hope you like your time in the sun, because now you'll be just lonely and-
"I love you too," Stevie, breaking the stillness, spoke softly, her admission hanging in the air like a delicate secret, whispered, the weight of those three words permeating the room, altering the dynamic between them in ways neither could fully comprehend at that moment. The gravity of the situation lingered, leaving a palpable tension that underscored the profound shift in their relationship.
Well, that's a pleasant surprise.
HOLY SHIT! Stevie love you too! STEVIE LOVES YOU! Holy shit! Rhea! Oh my god! Oh my god!
The Judgment Day dressing room witnessed an intimate moment, the air thick with the weight of shared emotions. Stevie's admission of love hung in the space between them, a revelation that stirred a profound sense of relief within Rhea. As the words settled, a cascade of emotions flooded Rhea's features – relief, joy, and an overwhelming contentment. She couldn't contain the flutter in her heart, and blush graced her cheeks as a smile played on her lips.
Their hands remained entwined, creating a tangible connection that spoke volumes. Rhea's other hand gently rose, tracing the line of Stevie's cheek with a tenderness that mirrored the depth of her affection. "I love you," Rhea whispered, the words carrying the weight of sincerity. "I love you so much, and everything I've been worried about, it doesn't matter now."
Stevie, however, wasn't ready to dismiss the gravity of the situation. "No, no, of course it matters. I was impulsive, and I didn't think it through. I should've thought about what I was doing and how it looked before I did it," she insisted, her smile and the gleam in her eyes betraying a mixture of regret and earnestness. "And I promise I will. I won't pull another stunt like that. And I'm sorry it happened in the first place. But I want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to do it in the middle of a serious conversation," she added, a chuckle punctuating her words.
Rhea laughed in response, appreciating Stevie's honesty and the sincerity in her apology. "Thank you for apologizing," she said, the moment's warmth palpable. "And I want to kiss you, too." With those words, Rhea leaned in, her hand gently running through Stevie's hair as their lips met in a tender embrace, sealing a moment that marked the beginning of a new chapter in their relationship.
Notes:
[1] “my god”
Chapter 30: Dog With A Bone
Summary:
"Now shut up and use that tongue how I like it," she said as she lowered her hips.
Chapter Text
“I love you.” Rhea and Stevie's soft kiss slowly morphed into something far more intense. Their lips locked together in a passionate kiss, their breath mingling as their bodies moved with a newfound intensity. The feelings between them were electric, and their love for one another was evident in every look and every kiss. Rhea pulled Stevie close, breathing between kisses as she pressed their bodies together, unable to hold back any longer. "I love you," she whispered between kisses, knowing that this was no longer just a simple kiss but a true expression of her feelings.
"I love you too," Stevie said back, pulling Rhea closer to her. The two of them were caught in a tide of passion and love that swept away all thoughts and worries. The fact that they were in the dressing room was forgotten, and every other thought had fled their minds. All that remained was each other and their love for one another. "I love you," they whispered over and over again as they lay on the couch together, their bodies pressed together, and their minds lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire. Stevie shuddered under Rhea’s touch.
Rhea kisses Stevie again, their passion growing more intense with every passing second. She pours every emotion into each kiss, her passion for Stevie fueling their every gesture towards one another. Stevie's whispers of love pierce through her heart and straight to her soul. With their bodies intertwined, they lie together on the couch, Rhea's hand trailing gently down Stevie's spine.
Stevie pulled at Rhea's shirt, her eyes glinting with mischief and love. "You wear too much," she said with a flirtatious look as she kissed Rhea again.
"Maybe you should help me take it off..." Rhea's voice was sultry, and her look was full of playful seduction as she spoke. She shifted onto her back, her shirt riding up, and Stevie could see more of her body as the shirt moved. Rhea raised one of her eyebrows in a naughty and teasing manner, an invitation for Stevie to explore and take off more than just her shirt. Stevie's heart fluttered, her head filled with a rush of desire, and she was eager to take Rhea up on her offer.
Stevie chuckled and pulled off Rhea's shirt, her eyes wandering over the curves and lines of Rhea's body as it was exposed. "I'll never get bored seeing you like this," Stevie purred. As she slowly moved her hands down Rhea's chest, her fingers caressing and teasing, she kissed her collarbone and her neck. Stevie's touch was both sweet and spicy, and she was utterly captivated by Rhea at that moment. The feeling of touching Rhea and seeing her like this made Stevie feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
Rhea's cheeks flushed with heat at Stevie's touch, and her body responded to each subtle movement and caress. "Mmm... I could say the same," she purred as she arched her back, allowing Stevie full access to all of her curves. Stevie's fingers wandered over her body, and Rhea trembled with excitement and desire. The feeling of Stevie touching her and revealing her curves made her feel like she was alive and truly alive. It was a glorious feeling, and she wanted more.
Stevie pulled off her own shirt to match Rhea's level of undress, and she smirked at Rhea as she did so. "You can, eh?" Stevie teased as she exposed her own curves to Rhea's gaze. Stevie's arms and hips were just as toned and firm as Rhea's, and she knew she had the body to match Rhea's. Stevie was confident she could hold her own in their little game of seduction.
Rhea stares at Stevie as she sheds her shirt, her eyes tracing the curves of her body. Stevie was stunning, with her bare torso exposed and the curves of her breasts and hips on display. Her hand traces Stevie's bare skin, slowly and sensually moving over the sensitive parts of her body. Rhea leans towards Stevie's ear and whispers in a voice full of affection and awe, "You're beautiful." Rhea's lips brush against Stevie's ear, their caress filled with a loving and gentle intimacy.
Rhea paused for a second, pressing her forehead against Stevie's in a gentle gesture of closeness. "I love you," she whispered, her voice soft and intimate as she conveyed her feelings for Stevie.
"I love you," Stevie whispered back, her words full of love and affection for Rhea. There was no other way to describe how the two women felt for each other. Stevie and Rhea had found something special, and they knew they were meant for each other, body and soul. Their connection was powerful and undeniable, and Stevie could feel their love for one another as their bodies pressed together and their words of love echoed in the air around them.
Rhea smiles as Stevie whispers those words back to her, her heart fluttering joyfully. They kiss again, their passionate embrace intensifying with each passing second as they lose themselves in one another. Rhea's touch on Stevie's body becomes more intimate, her fingers brushing against her soft skin, tracing every curve and contour of her breasts. "I love you." She whispers back as their kiss deepens. She pulls Stevie closer, moving herself over Stevie's body and pressing down on her, the power and dominance she has over Stevie, making the moment even more alluring and provocative.
"Baby, please stop teasing me," Stevie's voice breaths out, her heart racing as she watches Rhea's hand slowly shift down her body. Stevie's whole body quivered with anticipation and pleasure, and she felt her breath catching in her throat.
Rhea's smile widens as Stevie's words fill the air, and her hand glides down Stevie's body with a gentle caress. She leans closer to Stevie's ear and whispers in a sultry voice, "Oh, but you look so beautiful like this." Rhea's hand glides down further, brushing gently against Stevie's thigh. She gets closer, and Stevie can feel Rhea's breath on her ear and her lips touching her skin. And she whispers, her voice getting quieter until she almost whispers into Stevie's ear, "I can't resist...
Stevie grinned at Rhea's words, her breath catching as she watched Rhea slip off her pants. Stevie's eyes followed Rhea's body as she revealed herself, and Stevie was left breathless in more ways than one. "Rhea..." Stevie breathed, her voice husky and her mind filled with thoughts of desire and passion. "You're so hot..." Stevie's emotions were running high, and she felt her body trembling in anticipation of what would come.
"That's right, love..." Rhea whispers. She was filled with confidence and self-assuredness, and her tone was seductive and teasing. Stevie could feel her own excitement and desire building as she watched Rhea, her eyes tracing the curves of her body. "I am so hot..." Rhea's words were filled with knowledge and conviction, and the sound of her voice intoxicated Stevie. This was the Rhea that she loved, and she wanted more.
Stevie responds with a playful chuckle as she teasingly teases Rhea on her confidence. "And just so modest," Stevie says, her voice dripping with sarcasm and amusement as she mocks Rhea. Stevie enjoys the dynamic between them, and as she glances at Rhea's body, the heat and excitement within her only grows. Stevie enjoys playing with and flirting with Rhea, and the conversation quickly turns into a game of teasing and seduction.
Rhea responds with a smirk and a confident tone. "Oh, don't pretend you don't love it," she says, knowing Stevie was smitten with her. Rhea knew how to play the game, and she enjoyed every moment of it. She knew that she had Stevie wrapped around her finger, and she was not afraid to play with her. Stevie's body had reacted to the teasing, and her breath was catching in her throat. She was not immune to Rhea's charms, and she wanted more.
Stevie kissed Rhea again, and her tone was flirtatious and teasing. "I wouldn't dream of it, baby," she said, and her actions spoke louder than her words. Stevie's heart was fluttering, and her body was reacting to the touch of Rhea, and she knew that she was falling deeper into the feelings and emotions that were beginning to fill her. She was addicted to the way that Rhea made her feel, and she wanted more, more of the touch and the affection that Rhea gave her.
Rhea pushes Stevie, so she’s lying down further on the couch. "I want to show you how hot I am." She adds playfully, her voice dripping with mischief. Rhea takes a moment to adjust her position to kneel above Stevie, her knees on either side of Stevie's face, her eyes locked on Stevie's as a smile creeps up on her lips.
Stevie looked up at Rhea, and her eyes trailed from Rhea's hair to her toned figure. Stevie's hands came up to Rhea's hips instinctively, and her expression filled with desire and anticipation. "Do you, now?" Stevie whispered seductively, her voice filled with a playful air as she leaned in close to Rhea. Stevie's body was craving more of the touch and the affection that Rhea gave her, and her words were an invitation for Rhea to continue their intimate game.
The words came from Rhea's mouth, and her tone was not only confident but commanding. "Oh, I more than just want to," she said, her words full of desire and anticipation. "Now shut up and use that tongue how I like it," she said as she lowered her hips. Stevie did not need to be told twice, and her tongue began to move slowly and seductively, her eyes watching Rhea and her body responding to the touch. Everything felt so right and so good, and Stevie's excitement and passion only continued to build.
“Yes, ma’am,” stevie smirked, eagerly beginning to eat Rhea out. Her tongue dipping into Rhea’s folds and swirling just the way she knew made Rhea feel good.
"I love that you're so willing to please me," Rhea spoke with a grin and a whisper, and Stevie was left breathless by the words and their meaning. There was a new layer to Rhea’s words and playful interaction, and Stevie was entirely consumed by it all. Stevie was filled with passion and desire, and the words only made it burn hotter and brighter inside her. There was a new depth to their game, and she was ready to explore it thoroughly. "You're such a good girl." She adds in a whisper.
Stevie didn't speak, her tongue otherwise occupied, but Rhea saw the flash of desire in her eyes when she said that. She also felt the way Stevie’s tongue explored her, licking at Rhea like she was made of honey.
Rhea lets out a soft moan, grinding against Stevie’s tongue. "Do you want more?" She whispers, a devious grin spreading across her lips as she rubs against Stevie. Her voice is warm and inviting, laced with a subtle hint of dominance that only serves to make the moment that much more intimate. She glances down at Stevie, her eyes sparkling with arousal as she grinds against her thigh. "Tell me you want more." She whispers, her voice filled with heat.
Stevie nodded eagerly, continuing to make Rhea feel better and better. With her tongue, stevie moaned in agreeance, the vibrations of her voice shooing up Rhea’s spine.
Rhea bites her lip as Stevie moans and sucks on her clit. And Stevie can feel it as her pace quickens, her hips grinding harder against her tongue. Rhea's head falls back, her body beginning to shake as she gets closer and closer. She grips Stevie's arm to keep steady as it grows harder and harder for her to control herself. "Stevie... I'm so... close." She whispers, her voice filled with passion and lust.
But the sound of the doorknob turning broke through the silence. Someone was trying to open the locked door.
Stevie and Rhea freeze the moment the doorknob jiggles, the person on the other side unable to get in. “Rhea? Are you in there?” Dominik’s voice sounded from the other side.
“I'm busy!” Rhea said loud enough for Dominik to hear on the other side
Stevie’s eyes flashed with mischief, and she returned to eating Rhea out. Rhea gave her a disapproving look before covering her mouth to hold back a moan.
Dominik knocked on the door. “Rhea, I need in there! I forgot my charger.”
"Dominik, we're... I mean, I am... busy." She says, trying to think of a reasonable excuse. "Really busy," Rhea said firmer, trying to hold her voice steady and not moan, but stevie tongue felt terrific. "I can come out in a minute. It's fine. You don't need to come in..."
“Are you with someone? Is there a chick here?” Dominik asked with a chuckle, hearing her voice and how she said ‘we’re’ at first.
Rhea's shoulders slump slightly as she hears Dominik's words, realizing he'd already picked up on the slight change in her voice. She sighs, deciding that there's no point in trying to hide it now. "Yeah, there's someone in here with me, okay?" She says, her voice taking on a defensive edge.
“Oh gross, you better not be on my chair.” Dominik laughed
Rhea huffs, clearly finding very little humour in Dominik's comment. But the small chuckle stevie made Rhea shake her head and smirk, "Of course I'm not on your chair, dumbass." She replies. "Can you go now? I kind of need to get back... you know, to what we were doing." She says, her words laced with a mischievous smile.
“But my charger-”
“Just fuck off, Dom!” Rhea snarled, and Dominik laughed as he walked away down the hall again. “Now, where were we?” Rhea looked back down at Stevie, her voice filled with pleasure as she moaned. Stevie was doing her best to please Rhea, and her soft lips and tongue were doing an excellent job of it.
Chapter 31: The Night Comes Down
Summary:
Stevie's voice, once vibrant with banter, softened as she broached a more reflective note. "You know," she began, a hint of contemplation in her tone, "it's weird being in a different room tonight. Feels like something's missing." The shift in the conversation, from playful banter to more reflective observation, added a layer of vulnerability to their late-night talk.
Chapter Text
The hotel room exhaled a quiet sigh of tranquillity as Stevie reclined on the plush bed, her phone on speaker, cradled gently against her chest. The room basked in the soft glow of a bedside lamp, casting a warm and intimate hue that wrapped her in a world of serenity. Despite the miles stretched between them that night, the air crackled with a palpable connection.
Engulfed in the comforting ambiance, Stevie's voice danced through the phone, a playful melody that echoed into the quietude of the room. A mischievous grin, unseen but felt, adorned her lips as she proposed a potential promo line to Rhea. "What about this for a promo line?" she mused teasingly. "I tell you, 'You're so slow in the ring that even a snail would lap you.'"
Rhea's laughter, a harmonious symphony through the phone, reverberated in the room, knitting together the fabric of their shared moment. The sound, like a familiar embrace, traversed the digital landscape, transcending the boundaries of their separate hotel quarters. "Oh, that's a good one. Isn’t it a little kiddy, though?" Rhea questioned, her voice carrying a playful curiosity that resonated through the night. In the tapestry of their late-night conversation, the threads of laughter and camaraderie wove a connection that defied the physical space that tried to keep them apart.
Stevie reclined on her side, the phone now nestled on the pillow beside her as she chuckled at the banter shared with Rhea. "Well, we can't swear too much, so it's not like I can just tell you to fuck off or something," she quipped with a playful smirk.
"That's true," Rhea chuckled back, the warmth of her smile audible through the phone. "Okay, what about this: 'Your wrestling skills are like a GPS with a glitch—constantly recalculating but never getting anywhere.'"
Stevie, still rolling on her side, contemplated the suggestion. "Not too shabby," she admitted, pondering the nuances of the proposed promo line. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, "But you're Aussie, right? Why not give it a bit more down unda' flair? Like something along the lines of 'Mate, you're rubbish at scrappin', ya bloody drongo!'" She added an Aussie twist, adopting a fake accent.
Amused by the playful suggestion, Rhea couldn't help but respond kindly. "If I were to be a true Aussie, I'd just call you a cunt" she retorted with a lighthearted laugh, injecting a hint of good-natured banter into the conversation. The exchange, wrapped in humour and camaraderie, showcased the ease with which their connection traversed the digital realm, transcending the miles that physically separated them.
Stevie's laughter erupted like a contagious melody, a symphony of genuine amusement that echoed through the phone. The infectious mirth bubbled up until she found herself laughing hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. "Okay, maybe not," she admitted between bouts of laughter, the back-and-forth banter creating a familiar tapestry of shared humour that enveloped the conversation.
“Yeah, I don’t think Pearce would go for that,” Rhea said with another chuckle.
Regaining her composure, Stevie offered another gem. "Alright, here's another one for ya’. 'You hit like a pillow. I've had tougher fights with a marshmallow.'" The playful jab, infused with a touch of absurdity, hung in the air, awaiting Rhea's response. The camaraderie and laughter lingered, painting the moment with a shared joy transcending their distance.
Rhea's playful retort danced through the digital airwaves, a witty comeback that added another layer to their banter. "And I could say, 'At least a marshmallow has some sweetness. You're just all bitter.'" The quip, laden with cheeky charm, wove seamlessly into the ongoing exchange of playful jabs, each word a brushstroke in the painting of their shared laughter. The humour, a bridge between their separate spaces, connected them in a tapestry of light-hearted camaraderie that made the miles between them seem insignificant.
As they continued workshopping insults for their upcoming promo, the conversation took a turn, delving into more personal territory. The casual banter shifted to a more genuine discussion about their connection, the wrestling world, and their challenges.
Stevie's voice, once vibrant with banter, softened as she broached a more reflective note. "You know," she began, a hint of contemplation in her tone, "it's weird being in a different room tonight. Feels like something's missing." The shift in the conversation, from playful banter to more reflective observation, added a layer of vulnerability to their late-night talk.
The words hung in the air, a quiet admission that spoke volumes about the depth of their connection. The miles that separated them, though physically tangible, seemed to dissipate in the face of the emotional resonance shared through the phone. The hum of the hotel room's silence accentuated the weight of Stevie's sentiment, underscoring the subtle longing embedded in her words.
Rhea's sigh on the other end of the line carried a weight, a quiet acknowledgment of the complexities they navigated to maintain the secrecy of their connection. "I know what you mean," she confessed, the admission laced with a hint of weariness. "Cody was starting to get suspicious, so we had to do this for one night. But I can't wait for tomorrow when we can be together again."
The weight of Rhea's words painted a picture of the intricate dance they performed, concealing their relationship from prying eyes. Cody had noticed how every time he went to check if stevie was having trouble with her insomnia, she wasn’t in her room. But it wasn’t just Cody. Both Judgment Day and Outright had growing suspicion, like a looming shadow, added an extra layer of challenge to their already intricate situation. Perhaps it was a fleeting glance that lingered too long or a seemingly innocuous comment that betrayed a deeper awareness. Maybe it was the Instagram posts that were getting a little less careful.
As Rhea spoke, the anticipation for the upcoming reunion infused her voice with a renewed sense of excitement. The prospect of tomorrow, when they could shed the cloak of secrecy and embrace each other openly, became a beacon of hope in the midst of their clandestine arrangement. The yearning for that moment, where the barriers between them could dissolve, resonated through the phone, creating a bridge that spanned the gap of physical separation.
"I sleep so much better when you're there," she confessed, the words imbued with a genuine warmth that echoed through the phone. At that moment, the distance between them seemed to evaporate, and the depth of their connection became palpable. Stevie's admission carried a tender vulnerability, a raw authenticity that transcended the playful banter and wrestling-related discussions.
"It's like all the stress and worries just fade away," Stevie continued her voice a soothing melody that painted a vivid picture of the solace she found in Rhea's presence. The vulnerability exposed a layer of intimacy, unspoken fears dissipating in the comforting embrace of shared nights. "It’s like my brain is quiet," she added, describing a rare tranquillity that settled over her when Rhea was near.
In the hushed intimacy of the phone call, the shared sentiment painted a profound portrait of their solace in each other's company. The hotel room's silence, once a mere backdrop, now bore witness to the tenderness woven into their late-night conversations. The admission, a whispered secret between them, underscored the depth of their bond. This connection extended beyond the wrestling world and into the realm of shared vulnerabilities and quiet comfort.
Rhea's voice resonated with a kindred sentiment, mirroring the vulnerable authenticity that Stevie had shared moments earlier. "Yeah," Rhea acknowledged, carrying a gentle weight, "it's like we create this little bubble where nothing else matters. We're just us." The tenderness embedded in her admission unfolded like a cherished secret, the simplicity of those words encapsulating the profound connection they shared.
Serene tranquillity enveloped their conversation, the walls and floors between them dissipating in the shared calm of the night. The comfortable silence, far from being an awkward void, became a testament to the depth of their connection. Despite the physical separation, an invisible thread of understanding wove through the digital space, transcending the limits of technology.
In the peaceful moments that followed, the unspoken bond between them became more pronounced. It was a connection that defied the constraints of distance and time, an intimate dance of shared emotions that found expression in the pauses between words. The digital divide, often a stark reminder of physical separation, seemed inconsequential as their thoughts intertwined in the night's quietude.
Their shared silence was a canvas upon which the nuances of their connection painted a masterpiece. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm hue, creating an ambiance that mirrored the emotional landscape of their conversation. It was in these quiet moments that the strength of their bond revealed itself—a silent symphony that echoed with the harmonious cadence of two souls intertwined, rooms apart yet intimately connected.
"You know," Rhea suggested, her voice laced with a playful suggestion that hung in the air, "we could always bring this call to a close and let the peace of sleep take over." A momentary pause ensued, the faint sounds of Rhea adjusting in her bed gently transmitting through the phone. "Picture it," she continued, the notion of a total of eight hours of undisturbed rest painting a scene of serenity. "A restful night, leaving us perfectly revitalized for my training session tomorrow." However, as she sighed, the audible weight of stress surfaced, revealing the burdens of preparation for her impending match with Charlotte.
Stevie glanced at her phone, attuned to the subtle undercurrent of stress in Rhea's voice. "Alright, but I'll be sure to swing by and annoy you in your dreams," she responded with a gentle smile, hoping to coax a chuckle from Rhea and alleviate some of the burdens weighing on her.
Rhea's laughter danced through the air, a warm and affectionate melody. "I'm sure you will," she replied, the tender smile woven into her voice mirroring the affection radiating between them. As the words hung in the air, Rhea spoke softly, "I love you, Stevie," a declaration that carried the weight of their shared emotions, painting a portrait of a love that echoed in the spaces between each word.
"I love you too, Rhea," Stevie responded, the words carrying the weight of her emotions, her heart melting in the warmth of their shared affection.
As the call ended, Stevie grappled with an undeniable sense of yearning that clung to her like a gentle but persistent shadow. The hotel room, though boasting all the trappings of comfort, lacked the ineffable warmth and magnetic presence that only Rhea could bring. With a determined nod, Stevie's fingers closed around the spare key cards exchanged in a playful ritual with Rhea, and she embarked on an impromptu journey toward the haven of her companion.
In a matter of minutes, the door to Rhea's room creaked open, revealing a dimly lit space where the soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated the room's contours. Stevie slipped into the room with quiet grace, the anticipation of reunion coursing through her veins. There, nestled in the cocoon of blankets, was Rhea, a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at Stevie's entrance.
"Couldn't resist, huh?" Rhea's voice, a melodic blend of amusement and affection, filled the room.
“I’ll just tell Cody I was in the gym or something,” Stevie chuckled in response, the sound carrying a mixture of relief and genuine joy. Slipping under the covers beside Rhea, she quipped, "Sleeping alone is overrated anyway.”
As the two figures settled into the intimate embrace of shared space, the night unfolded around them like a tapestry of serenity. The moonlight, filtering through the curtains, cast a gentle glow upon the room, creating a tranquil ambiance that mirrored the peace settling within Stevie and Rhea. In the quietude of the night, their intertwined forms became a testament to the seamless blending of dreams and realities, each breath a harmonious rhythm that echoed the depth of their connection. Together, they surrendered to the embrace of slumber, their dreams interwoven into a shared narrative that unfolded in the hushed whispers of the night.
Chapter 32: Impromptu
Summary:
"No, it's not your birthday or anything," Stevie chuckled. Her playful tone added light to the moment as she continued, "Although, it does slightly concern me that you're unsure if it's your birthday."
Chapter Text
As Rhea wearily approached the door of her hotel room, the heavy burden of her relentless training regimen and the constant demands of her wrestling career clung to her like an oppressive shroud. The unmistakable scent of sweat lingered in the air, a testament to the intense physical exertion she had endured. Fatigue had permeated her very bones, transforming each step into a deliberate and conscious effort as if an invisible force were tugging at her with every movement.
The unbroken rhythm of Rhea's life unfolded in a ceaseless cycle, with gruelling training sessions seamlessly blending into relentless promotional activities. Nights in the gym stretched into what felt like an eternity as she honed her skills and pushed her physical limits. Days were a whirlwind of promotional events and press engagements, saturating her schedule and exceeding her preferred level of social interactions.
In an effort to discreetly enhance her training without drawing unwanted attention, Rhea had turned to secret sparring sessions with Stevie under the cover of darkness. The hidden nature of these midnight training sessions added an extra layer of intensity to her already challenging routine, underscoring the sacrifices she willingly made in the relentless pursuit of excellence in her chosen field. Although the late nights in the training ring with Stevie often did not last long before they were making out in the locker room, Rhea would continue to call those secretive kisses 'a break from the stress' and a 'release of pressure.'
Upon entering their hotel room, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Soft candlelight danced across the room, illuminating a table adorned with simplicity and elegance. The enticing aroma of her favourite food filled the air, casting a spell of unexpected tranquillity. Positioned by the elegantly adorned table, Stevie wore a radiant smile as she observed Rhea's entrance. Greeting her with warmth, Stevie took deliberate steps forward, the graceful flow of her chosen black dress accentuating each movement. "Welcome back," she uttered softly, her words carrying a tone of genuine affection. In the flickering candlelight, Stevie's presence added an extra layer of charm to the enchanting scene, creating a moment suspended in the delicate dance of light and shadow.
"Stevie? Baby, you did all this?" Rhea's eyes darted around the room, the unexpected transformation leaving her visibly shocked. Her voice blended surprise and curiosity as she questioned, "What's going on? Is it my birthday?" The astonishment in her expression mirrored the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere as she sought to unravel the mystery behind the unexpected scene that greeted her.
"No, it's not your birthday or anything," Stevie chuckled. Her playful tone added light to the moment as she continued, "Although, it does slightly concern me that you're unsure if it's your birthday." She gestured playfully, inviting Rhea to sit at the beautifully arranged table. "I just thought you could use a break from all the stress and training. Wanted to do something nice for you," Stevie explained, her sincerity evident in the warmth of her smile.
Genuine surprise flickered in Rhea's eyes, a rare emotion sparked by the realization that no one had ever gone to such lengths for her without a specific reason. Rhea smiles down at Stevie, her heart aflutter as she stares at her adoringly. "Thank you." She whispers, taking Stevie's hand in hers. "You don't know how much this means to me." She leans down and kisses Stevie before looking up at her again. "Oh, and you look beautiful, by the way." She adds with a smile. "As always."
"Thank you," stevie said, her smile getting wider. Gratitude surged within Rhea, a warmth that resonated with the unexpected gesture. As she eased into the comfort of the chair, Stevie gracefully took charge, serving the delectable food with a contagious enthusiasm that added an extra layer of joy to the atmosphere. Each dish came with its own narrative, and Stevie's explanations unfolded like a culinary story, creating an immersive experience that heightened Rhea's appreciation for the thoughtful surprise.
"I ordered your favourite," Stevie shared, her eyes gleaming with a touch of pride. A sense of care and consideration radiated from her as she continued, "And, uh, I might've gone a bit overboard with dessert. You deserve it." The admission carried a lightheartedness, a recognition of the indulgence that accompanied the delightful surprise. In Stevie's eyes, the abundance of dessert was not an excess but a well-deserved treat for Rhea, a tangible expression of appreciation for the hard work and dedication she consistently poured into her training and career.
Rhea smiles and shakes her head as she looks back at Stevie. "I love it when you go overboard with dessert." She says, her voice soft and gentle. She takes her plate from Stevie, her eyes going wide as she looks at the array of delicious-looking foods spread out on the table. "This is so thoughtful." She says, her eyes lingering on the dessert portion of the table for a moment as she chuckles. "I appreciate it." She adds, smiling at Stevie again.
"You deserve it. You've been working so hard. You've earned your night of pampering." Stevie reassured with a gentle squeeze of Rhea's hand. The unspoken connection between them spoke volumes, and as their hands entwined, Stevie expressed her feelings with a simple yet profound declaration, "I love you." The sincerity in her voice echoed the shared sentiment, solidifying the understanding that transcended the need for elaborate words.
"I love you, too." Rhea murmurs, the warmth in her eyes bearing no signs of being hidden. She squeezes Stevie's hand back, her fingers running along Stevie's as she does so. She leans forward in her seat, her eyes lingering on Stevie's while a content smile stretches across her lips. "This is just what I needed." She says, taking a fork and picking up a generous portion of food from the table before bringing it to her mouth.
As they savoured the carefully chosen meal, Stevie, with an air of excitement, presented a small pile of gifts. The hastily wrapped packages were a charming testament to Stevie's earnest effort. With a sheepish smile, she nudged the trio of gifts towards Rhea, her cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry about the wrapping. I'm hopeless when it comes to wrapping things," she admitted, her humility adding a touch of endearing sincerity to the moment.
"Are those for me?" She asks, her voice conveying her disbelief. She looks back at Stevie. "You didn't have to get anything!"
"Most of them are practical. They're not super fun," Stevie admitted with a chuckle, offering a glimpse of the thoughtful consideration she had put into the selection of gifts. The acknowledgment hinted at a blend of pragmatism and a desire to enhance Rhea's daily life, adding a layer of practicality to the heartfelt offerings.
"I appreciate that you thought about things I could use." She adds.
"I don't always need something fancy. Sometimes, the little things mean the most." She says, leaning forward in her seat as she gestures towards the presents.
The first was a sleek container of Rhea's favourite protein powder. "Oh shit! You remember my favourite flavour?" Rhea looked at the container.
"Thought it might come in handy with all the training," she remarked, her eyes locked onto Rhea's with a knowing gaze.
"You really know how to cheer a girl up." She says jokingly as she looks back up at Stevie. "I'm almost out of protein powder, so this is perfect." She adds, her tone genuinely appreciative. "Thank you." She says, her voice becoming quieter as she speaks. Her face is filled with love and adoration as she smiles up at Stevie.
The second gift carried both playfulness and practicality. Three brand-new pair of fishnet stockings. A soft chuckle escaped Stevie's lips as she explained, "I noticed you were down to your last backup pair. Figured you might need a fresh set for the next match."
Rhea laughs at Stevie's comment about her 'backup pair' and nods in agreement. "Yeah, I think I've been using the same two pairs for a while now." She says with a shrug. Her eyes go wide as she looks down at the fishnet stockings. "They're pretty." She murmurs, gently running her fingers along the mesh. "I've meant to get a new pair, but I always forget." She laughs again, smiling at Stevie. "Thanks for thinking of me."
"I got myself a few pairs, too, so we'll be matching," Stevie chuckles, and her voice is filled with amusement and joy. Rhea feels a rush of excitement and looks forward to matching with stevie, even in the simplest of ways. She can already imagine the two of them looking so good together, and the thought makes her stomach flutter with butterflies. It's a sweet moment between them.
As Stevie nudged the last gift over, Rhea couldn't help but notice the subtle blush colouring Stevie's cheeks. As Stevie excitedly opened the box, the reason for her bashfulness became clear: it was a strap-on, an expensive one. Rhea blushed, too, and she smirked as she looked at Stevie. "Princess, what is this?" She asked teasingly, using the stolen pet name that Stevie had grown to love and respond to. Stevie felt herself heat up, and her heart began to race as her thoughts and feelings ran through her mind.
"You said you wanted one," Stevie says with a shy laugh and a blush. Stevie is still feeling some embarrassment at the idea of showing this side of herself to Rhea, but she is also unable to deny that she is curious and excited by the idea of using the strap-on with Rhea. It would be a new experience for them both, but the possibility is exciting and compelling.
"I..." Rhea pauses as a sheepish expression fills her face. She was never expecting Stevie actually to get her one. "but this is expensive, baby," Rhea said, not liking that Stevie had spent so much money on her.
Stevie's chuckle cuts through the tension that had been building between them. She doesn't see the need for the awkwardness. "Just think of it as a make-up gift for your last birthday gift I missed," Stevie says, sounding more confident than sheepish.
"We weren't together for my birthday last year," Rhea said with a smirk. "why would you need to get me a present if you hated me last year?"
"Rhea, you know what I mean?" stevie rolled her eyes playfully. "Plus, we have the money," she shrugs. It's true, and Stevie can't wait to use the strap-on, so why worry? The awkwardness and the conversation are quickly put to rest, and Rhea is ready to think about what she should do with her new toy.
"Well, alright then," Rhea says with a confident grin, looking at Stevie with a flirty glance. "I might just have to use this tonight."
Stevie smiles with a mischievous smirk. "I was hoping you'd say that," she says, her voice filling with excitement as she thinks about the potential fun she and Rhea might have with the strap-on. Stevie can feel the heat and anticipation rising between them, and her blush deepens as she looks at Rhea.
Rhea's grin widens as she draws Stevie close to her. Their lips meet in a deep, passionate kiss, and Stevie is filled with joy as she's pulled into Rhea's lap. "I certainly chose the perfect girl," Rhea says with a playful grin, and Stevie is overwhelmed by the feeling of being desired and wanted so deeply. The kiss and the words are making her heart race, and she can feel the heat rising between them.
As their lips pulled away from one another, the two women began to move toward the bed. Their clothes quickly fell to the floor, and they stood there, naked and vulnerable, but with a hunger inside of them that they could not deny.
Chapter 33: Pain Is So Close to Pleasure
Summary:
Rhea looks down at Stevie with a slight smirk as she licks her fingers. "Oh, you're being bratty tonight?" She asks, and Stevie is filled with excitement and anticipation as she looks up at Rhea. Stevie has always loved a little bit of teasing and playfulness in their dynamic, and the idea of having Rhea call her "bratty" fills her with a sense of lust.
Chapter Text
"So, have you ever used one of these before?" Rhea asks as she picks up the strap-on, looking at Stevie with a mischievous smile on her lips. Her finger traced down stevie stomach and the line of her hip bone. Stevie's shivering surprised Rhea, but she only smiled again as she watched Stevie's reaction. Rhea's hands caressed Stevie's body gently, her fingers tracing the curves of Stevie's body, back up from her hips to her breasts, fluttering over Stevie’s now hard nipples, making the hairs on Steive’s neck stand on end and another shudder.
Stevie's expression changed, becoming hot with desire. as Rhea pushed her down onto the bed, a look of pure need. Rhea loved how Stevie's trust in her was displayed through her body language.
“a strap or, like, dick in general?” stevie asked, between kisses.
Rhea paused and thought about it for a second. The heat of the moment was put on hold for a moment while Rhea asked the question, “Dick in general, I guess?” Rhea asked
“Yeah, I mean, I told you about my exes. A few of them had dicks.” stevie said with a chuckle.
“Right,” Rhea nodded, “and straps?”
"No, but I've seen it in porn," Stevie says with a coy smile, her voice filled with a little bit of flirting.
Rhea rolls her eyes with a laugh at Stevie's response, the light-heartedness of the moment putting a smile on her face. "That's very helpful," Rhea says with a hint of sarcasm as she turns to face Stevie.
Stevie smirks, teasing Rhea with her playfulness and mischief. "You did say you wanted to try it, remember?" Stevie asks in a playful and mischievous tone. She's looking at Rhea with a devilish look in her eyes, and she's clearly enjoying teasing Rhea. "And don't pretend you don't watch it too," Stevie adds, and she raises an eyebrow, challenging Rhea to deny it.
Rhea looks down at Stevie with a slight smirk as she licks her fingers. "Oh, you're being bratty tonight?" She asks, and Stevie is filled with excitement and anticipation as she looks up at Rhea. Stevie has always loved a little bit of teasing and playfulness in their dynamic, and the idea of having Rhea call her "bratty" fills her with a sense of lust.
Stevie bites her lip, feeling a rush of butterflies in her stomach as she looks at Rhea. She can see the desire in Rhea's eyes. "Maybe I am," Stevie says, her voice full of warmth and passion but also with a hint of shyness. Stevie feels flush with heat, and she cannot take her eyes off Rhea.
"Of course you are," Rhea says as she playfully rolls her eyes again, teasing Stevie in the way that she enjoys so much. Her hand traces down Stevie's body once more, finding its way towards Stevie's clit, and Stevie gasps in delight and pleasure. Rhea knows exactly where to touch and what to do to drive Stevie wilder than she already is. Stevie can feel herself on the edge, feeling the heat grow as Rhea continues to tease and touch her, and she lets out a slight sound of pleasure as she can barely contain herself. “Because when are you ever a good girl without a battle?”
"I was pretty good in the locker room last week," Stevie says, her voice filled with excitement and a hint of mischief. She's enjoying teasing Rhea just a bit, and she's feeling playful and feisty. She knows that Rhea likes to see her be a little bit wild and out of control, but Stevie also knows how much she enjoys having control over her. It's a push and pull that the couple enjoys together, and Rhea is always up for playing that game. “You know? When I- oh god. ” Rhea’s fingers pushed into her, the moan of pleasure cutting off Stevie’s words.
Rhea continues to slowly go in and out of Stevie, the slow movements letting stevie feel every little bit of pleasure that Rhea gives her, "Princess, you know how I feel about you talking back to me." Stevie has a slight sense of trepidation as she hears the tone of command in Rhea's voice, but she's also filled with giddy excitement at the idea of letting Rhea have complete control.
Stevie moans softly as Rhea's fingers her. "Mm. Th-that..." She gasps, her voice catching in as she struggles to compose herself. "Oh God~" A soft grunt escapes stevie as Rhea moves her fingers, her eyes flitting downwards. "It feels amazing." She finally says, her voice sounding strained. She swallows thickly, looking up at Rhea with a gasp. Her head tilts back as she tries to hold onto her composure. "You don't know how good that feels." She adds, her voice still quiet but with a little more strength now that she's gotten used to Rhea’s touch.
"See what you get if you're a good girl for me?" Rhea asks her tone teasing but also filled with a hint of something else as she looks at Stevie. Stevie can feel herself shiver a bit as she feels Rhea's fingers inside her, teasing her in a way that drives her crazy.
Stevie lets out a soft and muffled moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she squeezes around Rhea's fingers. She can feel herself growing closer and closer to an intense release, and she can't fight the feeling of pleasure that's rising within her. Stevie is letting herself go, giving herself over to the sensations that Rhea is working her way towards. It's almost too much for her to bear, but she can feel the tension rising in her body as she succumbs to Rhea's touch.
"Do you want to be a good girl for me?" Rhea asks, her voice oozing with seduction as she pulls her fingers out and prepares to put the strap on. Stevie is filled with a mix of emotions and nerves but also excitement and anticipation. She nods in the affirmative, but her voice comes out in a small and breathy whisper. She is ready. She knows what Rhea wants, and she will be a good girl for the woman she loves. Rhea tightens the straps on her hips and looks down at Stevie, her gaze full of desire and affection.
"Yes, yes, I do. Please, I need you," Stevie pleads, her voice filled with desperation and lust as she looks up at Rhea. She's completely given in to the excitement and desire that has been building up inside of her, and she wants nothing more than to feel Rhea's touch once again. Stevie needs Rhea, and that need is stronger than her words and even her thoughts can express. She can't bear being away from Rhea at that moment, and she needs her to make the ache inside her go away.
"Then turn around and get on all fours on the edge of the bed, Princess," Rhea says with a smirk, and Stevie follows her instructions without hesitation. She watches as Rhea rubs the lube over the silicone dildo, and as she does, it fills her with a sense of excitement and anticipation. The black dildo, the idea of being dominated by Rhea, and the feel of the lube on her body all make Stevie's body fill with submissive fire.
Once Stevie is in position, Rhea use her fingers to spread lube over Stevie’s pussy as well, teasing Stevie’s entrance once again with her fingers while she lining up their hips. “You sure about this princess? We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Rhea checked in, the firmness in her voice softening as she made sure Stevie wanted to continue with the fun.
"I bought the damn thing," Stevie says with a chuckle, her voice filled with lust as she looks over her shoulder. “Just fuck me already” she arched her back so Rhea could have better access.
Rhea bit her lip and chuckled at Stevie's words, excited at finally having a bit of fun. Seeing Stevie arch her back in a way that made her feel desired and wanted, no, needed, slowed her thinking. “Well, you know the safeword.” she breathed, looking down at the way Stevie arched into her. With a smooth slow stroke, Rhea thrust the dick into stevie. She took her time, pushing into stevie slowly enough that Stevie could adjust. “How’s that princess?”
The moan stevie let out was quiet, but the feeling of Rhea’s hands on her hips as she slowly filled her was good enough to make her eyes flutter closed in pleasure again. “So good,” Stevie moans, coming more consistently as Rhea began slowly moving her him.
“Good girl,” Rhea breathed, biting her lip as one of her hands slid up Stevie's back, the other still guiding Stevie’s hips as she thrust in and out of Stevie’s pussy, the room filling with the sound of heavy breathing, skin on skin, and the moans slipping from Stevie’s tongue. There were no thoughts in Rhea's brain. She was utterly lost in stevie. She was lost in the way, stevie moaned louder as she started moving faster and harder. “Fuck, good fucking girl,” Rhea said in a breathy whisper, her voice taken with the clarity of her mind. She was running on pure instinct, pure raw need.
“ Ah ~fuck,” stevie moaned, just as lost as Rhae. Her brain was nothing but pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Rhea said, punctuating her words with a quick spank to Stevie’s ass, the sound cutting through the moans and breathing like lightning.
Stevie's moans got louder again, Rhea’s thrust getting harder. The pleasure clouded Stevie’s mind. It felt so good, too good.
But it only got better. Rhea’s hand came further up Stevie’s back until she could grab Stevie’s ponytail, fisting the hair as she bucked into stevie. “Yes, just like that princess. Fuck ~” Rhea grunted. Her eyes were dark and full of need. “You like that princess?” Rhea asked, pulling on Stevie’s hair.
“Oh god, yes!” stevie moaned, her skin starting to shine with sweat, her eyes still closed, the pleasure and Rhea’s words nearly driving her mad.
Rhea grunted again, the praise coming out between her teeth without Rhea thinking about it. “good girl. Such a good princess. My good fucking girl.”
Rhea kept going until she heard Steve's moans get quicker, closer together. She kept going until she heard Stevie close. It was like she couldn’t stop.
The praise flowed, bringing Stevie closer and closer to orgasm with every word.
“Just like that, baby, fuck, just like that” Rhea’s words were breathy and husky, Rhea’s grip on stevie;s hair tightening as stevie moaned over and over, unable to put a complete thought together. The only tangible sensation was pleasure.
As Stevie moaned, “ fuck , I’m going to~ oh fuck ~i’m gonna cu~ oh god. ”
Rhea grabbed Stevie’s shoulder, pulling her up and against her chest. Her one hand came up and around Stevie’s throat, not squeezing, but the gentle pressure was a reminder of who was in charge. While the other hand came around and started rubbing Stevie’s clit. And as Rhea began thrusting faster, she purred, “Cum for me, princess.”
The new angle and the fingers on her clit, quickly Drove stevie over the edge. Rhea's grip on her throat tightened slightly as Stevie’s eyes rolled back.
Stevie came hard, gasping and moaning as Rhea pounded into her all through the orgasm. But Rhea didn’t stop. Instead, she pulled out. She was turning and laying Stevie, still trembling from the orgasm, onto the bed, lining her hips back up and thrusting back into stevie smoothly.
"Oh, Princess, you didn't think we were stopping at just one, did you?" Rhea says, smirking down at stevie, her hand returning to Stevie’s hip.
"God, Rhea," stevie says, "you're going to drive me insane." she chuckles between moans.
"Oh, am I?" Rhea smirks as she continues to thrust into Stevie. She leaned down, her face coming closer to Stevie’s. "Then I'll make you go even crazier, just for my pleasure." She whispers in her ear, kissing Stevie’s neck as before for pulling back and looking into Stevie’s eyes again.
"I'm guessing this is payback for being bratty to you earlier," she chuckles, blushing more, moaning again—the eye contact making stevie even further under Rhea’s spell.
“Oh, it most definitely is,” Rhae smirked, her one hand pulling one of Stevie’s legs higher, increasing the angle to help the dildo stroke against Stevie’s g-spot more and more.
“ Ah~” Stevie’s eyes fluttered closed again, rolling back slightly—the pleasure getting driven even higher by how sensitive she was from already orgasming. “fuck~ Rhea ~oh fuck~” stevie moaned. As stevie was pushed over the edge once again, her moans went to pleasure-laced whimpers. She was clinging onto Rhea, the sweat and desire dripping and mixing in the sheets.
Once stevie had cum a second time, Rhea slowed her hips, taking her time to pull out of Stevie slowly. She was filled with so much emotion that her words were breathless. "Oh my god, Stevie, you were..." She looks at Stevie with warmth in her eyes. "That was amazing."
"It was," Stevie said with a weak and panting voice, feeling her body tremble and shiver. She was overwhelmed by what she just experienced, but she couldn't ignore the surge of love and affection she felt towards Rhea at that moment. "I love you." Stevie's words were breathless and full of emotion, and she felt a wave of happiness and contentment wash over her as she looked at her girl.
"I love you too," Rhea kisses Stevie softly, pulling her closer and holding her tight in this moment. It feels so intimate and caring. So soft.
They caught their breath together, held in each other’s arms. "You look so beautiful right now" stevie chuckles breathlessly, wrapped in Rhea's arms and breathing in her scent. But Rhea was quiet, looking at stevie, her eyes practically in the shapes of hearts. Stevie smiles and kisses Rhea. “I love you.”
Rhea's hand moves to Stevie's face, and she caresses Stevie's cheek as she whispers, "I love you too. I love you so so so much." It's a tender and gentle gesture, and Stevie feels a wave of warmth wash over her as she looks at Rhea. Stevie smiles back at Rhea, and it's a moment full of warmth and affection, filled with the feeling of love and affection that both girls feel.
Chapter 34: I Guess We're Falling Out
Summary:
It was all supposed to be a regular night.
However, fate had other plans.
Chapter Text
A mere two weeks had passed since the romantic dinner orchestrated by Stevie. Despite the impending clash with Charlotte looming just ahead, Summer Slam only two weeks away, Rhea remained unwavering in her commitment to rigorous training. This particular evening, however, was designated for a routine showcase.
The Judgment Day's dressing room pulsated with a vibrant tapestry of voices and laughter, creating a lively atmosphere dominated by the personalities of Damian, Dominik, Finn, and Rhea. The space resonated with camaraderie and shared moments, encapsulating the unique energy of a wrestling family.
Finn, seated amidst the cheerful chaos, was engrossed in the visual narratives painted by Stevie's Instagram feed. His eyes darted across the screen, scanning for any subtle hints or insights encapsulated in her recent photographs. Meanwhile, Damian and Dominik caught up in their own playful banter, engaged in a candy-tossing exchange that added a sweet undertone to the camaraderie. They had been going back and forth for 10 minutes now, trying to toss M&Ms into each other's mouths, but the two were not having much success.
The locker room became a canvas of dynamic interactions — Damian and Dominik's laughter punctuated by the rhythmic thud of candy hitting its target. Rhea, positioned beside Finn, found amusement in the spectacle unfolding before her. The room, though seemingly chaotic, was a testament to the bonds forged through shared passion and the anticipation of the imminent showdown.
It was all supposed to be a regular night.
However, fate had other plans.
Rhea's focus shifted abruptly to Finn's phone, captivated by the scrolling journey through Stevie's Instagram. Among the myriad snapshots of Stevie's life, a specific photo seized their collective attention. Stevie, adorned in her newly unveiled wrestling gear, projected an air of confidence from her hotel room. The image radiated a palpable sense of transformation, capturing the essence of Stevie's revamped persona.
However, Rhea's initial amusement took an unexpected twist as her eyes were fixated on a peculiar detail within the frame. In the subtle background of the photo, surreptitiously reflected on the luminous TV screen, was none other than Rhea herself. The unexpected revelation froze the room in a momentary hush as everyone absorbed the surreal scene. The image immortalized Rhea's smiling countenance directed at Stevie, an unspoken expression of profound affection unmistakably frozen in time.
Oh, look at the mess you've stumbled into, Rhea. A mere innocent scroll through Instagram, and now the room's plunged into disarray. Stevie's revamped persona, a mere distraction from the real spectacle – your own unwitting cameo in the background. How deliciously unfortunate.
A tidal wave of panic surged through Rhea as the gravity of this unexpected disclosure sank in. The supposedly ordinary evening now stood on the precipice of an unforeseen turn, leaving Rhea grappling with the implications of this unintentional revelation. The air in the room thickened with suspense, setting the stage for a night unfolding with unforeseen twists and turns.
Feel that hitch in your breath? That's the weight of revelation, my dear, pressing down on your chest. The room, once alive with laughter, now freezes into a tableau of shock. Your attempts to respond falter and I can almost taste the bitterness of your speechlessness.
Finn's widening eyes mirrored the shock across Rhea's face, transforming the once lively room into an uncomfortable tableau of frozen expressions. As the revelation unfolded, a disconcerting stillness enveloped the space. Rhea's breath hitched in her throat, and her attempts to respond proved futile in the face of the weighty discovery, rendering her momentarily speechless.
Breaking the uneasy silence, Finn shifted his gaze from the illuminated screen to Rhea, his eyes reflecting a puzzled mixture of surprise and confusion. "What the... Rhea?" he uttered, his voice carrying the weight of incomprehension. The room, now charged with an unexpected tension, bore witness to the palpable bewilderment etched on Finn's features.
Rhea, grappling with the enormity of the situation, struggled to formulate a coherent response. The scrutiny in the room heightened as Damian and Dominik redirected their focus from their playful banter to the unfolding drama. The once carefree atmosphere gave way to an air of uncertainty and concern, thickening with each passing moment.
Panic, my sweet Rhea, is surging through you like a tidal wave. The ordinary evening you envisioned now teeters on the edge of chaos, and you, my unwitting protagonist, grapple with the implications of this disclosure. Suspense thickens the air, setting the stage for a night of unforeseen torment.
Sensing something was amiss, Damian voiced his frustration, demanding an immediate explanation. Dominik, equally perplexed, sought clarity on the unfolding situation. Finn, unable to contain his bewilderment, held up his phone, displaying the incriminating photo that cast a shadow over the room.
As the reality of the situation settled in, Rhea found herself cornered, the weight of the scrutinizing gazes intensifying. Damian's disappointment and anger permeated the room, casting a sombre hue over the atmosphere. Dominik's expression mirrored Finn's initial shock, amplifying the collective confusion and disbelief that hung in the air like an unresolved tension waiting to be unravelled.
"Rhea?" The imploring tone in Dominik's voice resonated through the room, his eyes locked onto Rhea. "This has to be a joke. You and Stevie are just messing with us?" The hope laced in his words hung in the air, desperately seeking confirmation that the unfolding drama was merely a prank.
Oh, Rhea, darling, look at the chaos you've sown. Dominik, desperately hoping it's a joke, Damian's anger brewing like a storm – the stage is set for your own little drama. Betrayal, sweet betrayal, echoes in every word, and the weight of consequence presses down on your chest.
However, Rhea, caught in the tumultuous whirlwind of her thoughts, found herself incapable of dispelling the brewing storm in the room. As Damian's anger surged to the forefront with a pointed question, the gravity of her actions became painfully evident. "Are you and Stevie seeing each other?" he demanded, his words cutting through the charged atmosphere.
'Are you and Stevie seeing each other?' Damian's question, a dagger aimed at the heart of their camaraderie. Ah, the delicious taste of forbidden love, entwined with rivalry. 'You're... with our rival!?' His fury, a tempest brewing just for you. Can't you feel the exhilaration in the air, the thrill of unravelling bonds?
A slow nod from Rhea confirmed the truth, her gaze shifting downward to the ground. The revelation sent shockwaves through the room, each word echoing with the weight of betrayal.
Damian's anger, previously restrained, erupted like a storm. "You're fucking our rival!?" His voice escalated with every syllable, the disbelief and fury intertwining into a volatile mix.
Rhea flinched under the onslaught of Damian's anger, attempting to explain, "It's not... we're not... it's not just like a hookup." Her words, though uttered in an attempt to mitigate the impact, fell like feeble defences against the rising storm of emotions.
Your feeble attempts at explanation, a desperate plea in the face of the rising storm. But, my dear, the devil knows the truth – the symphony of chaos is your creation.
Damian's response was sharp and unforgiving, nearly growling, "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware you'd put so much thought into fucking us over!"
See, you fucked them over. You ruined the team. You fucked them all over because you couldn't keep it in your pants.
Finn, grappling with bewilderment, sought an explanation. "What were you thinking?"
Feeling the intensity of their collective anger, Rhea instinctively stood up, backing her back towards the door as if seeking an escape. "I wasn't... I didn't... it wasn't supposed to come out like this. We were supposed to tell you later. When the time was right." Her hands went up in a defensive gesture, but the palpable anger in the room lingered, leaving Rhea on the defensive and the once lively space now fraught with tension and betrayal.
Your instinctive retreat towards the door is a feeble attempt at escape, but in this web of deceit, there's no hiding from the storm you've summoned. You're quivering by the door like a dog with its tail between its legs. It's pathetic.
"When the time was right? How long has… this thing been going on?" Dominik asked a layer of disgust in his voice.
"A little under seven months," Rhea said quietly.
"So this started a little after you, and she froze that night?" Finn's voice seemed less angry and more confused now. "Rhea, you've been hiding this from us for seven months?" he asked, now sounding hurt.
Listen to how hurt Finn is. Listen to what you did.
"She's Outright Rhea! She's part of the team we hate. You hated her! You spent years talking about how much you hate her, and now…now what? You just made up and started dating like there are not a million reasons you shouldn't?" Dominik asked.
"She's different. She's…" Rhea trailed off, looking away.
"She's what?" Damian scoffed. "What could possibly justify screwing over your whole team?" Damian looked at her seriously. "Rhea, this isn't a fairy tale. You don't get a happy ending! You and stevie will never work! You are too different. She's a face, you're a heel, we run this division, and she's always going to be part of the people bringing us down!"
You'll never be with stevie. You will never be good enough for her. You'll never be with her, no matter how much you try.
As the weight of the revelation pressed down on her, Rhea felt an overwhelming sensation of the walls closing in, suffocating her. In the midst of the swirling emotions and escalating confrontation, an instinctual impulse seized her. With a sense of urgency, she pivoted on her heels and flung the door open, unleashing herself into the uncertain expanse beyond.
Running became her refuge, an impulsive response to the turmoil engulfing her. Tears blurred her vision, making it difficult to discern the path ahead, yet she pressed on, fueled by an innate need to escape the mounting chaos. The echoes of Dominik's calls faded into the background as she sprinted, the rhythmic beat of her footfalls acting as a desperate attempt to outrun the unraveling reality.
Now look at you, too scared to even face your own battles, even more pathetic.
The tumult within her mirrored the stormy emotions that had gripped the room just moments before. She ran until her legs carried her to a destination chosen by some unconscious force within. The disoriented journey led her to an unexpected sanctuary – the women's locker room.
"Rhea?" Stevie's voice penetrated the veil of tears that blurred Rhea's vision. The concern and confusion woven into Stevie's words were palpable. "Rhea, are you okay?" Stevie's nervous inquiry swept across the room, her gaze darting to the other women present, cautious not to betray the delicate balance they sought to maintain.
Rhea, this isn't a fairy tale. You don't get a happy ending! You and stevie will never work! You are too different. She's a face, you're a heel, we run this division, and she's always going to be part of the people bringing us down!
Rhea met Stevie's concerned gaze, but the words remained trapped within her emotions, a silent storm that refused to yield to expression. Damian's words echo in her ears. Every word cut deeper into her heart.
Rhea, this isn't a fairy tale. You don't get a happy ending! You and stevie will never work! You are too different, she's a face, you're a heel, we run this division and she's always going to be part of the people bringing us down!
"Is she okay?" inquired one of the other women, their voices echoing in Rhea's ears. "Rhea? Are you sick?" The words, though sincere, seemed to dissolve in the pounding rush of blood in Rhea's ears, her breath quickening with each passing moment. The room spun, and faces became indistinct blurs.
Rhea, this isn't a fairy tale. You don't get a happy ending! You and stevie will never work! You are too different. She's a face, you're a heel, we run this division, and she's always going to be part of the people bringing us down!
Stevie's presence, though a source of concern, served as a lifeline in the storm. Rhea continued to stare at her, the silent plea for understanding etched in her eyes. Her trembling hands and the struggle for breath were silent manifestations of the internal chaos that threatened to engulf her. The unspoken turmoil lingered in the air, an unbridgeable gap between the words Rhea couldn't articulate and the compassionate concern surrounding her.
Rhea, this isn't a fairy tale. You don't get a happy ending! You and stevie will never work! You are too different. She's a face, you're a heel, we run this division, and she's always going to be part of the people bringing us down!
In an instant, Stevie recognized the signs of a panic attack in Rhea. The usual reservations about secrecy and the careful maintenance of their cover were abruptly discarded as Stevie prioritized the well-being of the woman she cared for deeply. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, disregarding the onlookers, and enveloped Rhea in a protective embrace.
The other women in the locker room, witnesses to this unexpected display of vulnerability, exchanged shocked and confused glances. The prevailing narrative of animosity between Rhea and Stevie seemed to crumble in the face of this raw, unguarded moment. However, the pair, in the midst of this emotional exchange, paid no heed to the outside world; their focus was solely on providing comfort and solace to each other.
Stevie held Rhea tightly, the physical connection serving as a lifeline amidst the emotional upheaval. Rhea clung to Stevie with equal intensity, finding refuge in the warmth of the embrace. As Stevie began to hum a soothing melody, Rhea gradually regained control of her breath. Yet, with the return of steady breaths, tears continued to flow, an outward manifestation of the inner turmoil.
Realizing the need for privacy, Stevie, her voice firm and commanding, shouted to the remaining women in the locker room, "Everyone out!"
A few hesitant voices murmured objections, but Stevie's second command, louder and more assertive, brooked no opposition. "EVERYONE OUT NOW!" The forcefulness in Stevie's tone compelled compliance, and the room emptied in silence. The bewildered glances among the departing women spoke of their confusion, leaving Stevie and Rhea alone in the now hushed sanctuary, where vulnerability had replaced the facade of hostility.
As soon as the door closed, Rhea's suppressed emotions erupted in uncontrollable sobs. "They found out. They know about you. They know about us," she gasped between breaths, clinging onto Stevie as if she were a lifeline in the storm of revelation.
"Shit," Stevie muttered under her breath, her mind racing to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "How?"
"I'm in the background reflection of one of your photos," Rhea explained, her attempts to stem the tears proving futile against the overwhelming weight of the revelation.
"I'm so sorry," Stevie whispered, tightening the hug to shield Rhea from the repercussions of this unintended exposure. "I'm so sorry."
Rhea, though caught in the maelstrom of emotions, found the strength to reassure Stevie. "I didn't see it either. It's not your fault," she insisted, her words an anchor in the storm of remorse and regret that threatened to engulf them. The shared embrace became a sanctuary, a fragile refuge in the aftermath of the revelation that had shattered the carefully constructed facade. "But what are we going to do? We're fucked. The guys are pissed as hell. Half the women here now know. The rest of Outright is going to find out soon."
"We'll just have to face it. Stand through it together. We can do that," Stevie declared, her voice infused with an attempt at optimism amidst the uncertainty. "It's not like Cody will ditch me because I fell in love. He'll see how good you are for me. And the guys didn't kick you out, did they?" Stevie inquired, seeking reassurance amid the tumult of emotions.
Rhea shook her head in response, a small glimmer of relief breaking through the storm of anxiety. "But I did kinda run away before they could finish talking to them." Rhea chuckled.
"See, it'll be okay. It'll suck for a while during the whole beginning, where everyone hates each other still, but it'll be okay. We can get through this together," Stevie reassured, her words carrying a soft smile that aimed to inject a sense of hope into the uncertain landscape ahead. In that shared moment, Stevie and Rhea found solace in the belief that, united, they could weather the challenges and navigate the complexities of the fallout from this revelation. The prospect of facing the aftermath together became a source of strength, a testament to the resilience of their connection in the face of adversity.
Rhea's uncertainty hung in the air like a heavy fog as she gazed at Stevie, her brow furrowed with concern. "So you're just going to tell Outright? Like it's nothing? What if they get mad?" Her words carried the weight of apprehension, a plea for reassurance in the face of impending chaos.
Stevie, ever the optimist, offered a casual response though a flicker of doubt played in her eyes. "They will, but I'm sure I can handle it. I mean, I have you to return to, so it'll be worth it." Her attempt at a chuckle, a feeble shield against the storm of emotions brewing, conveyed both determination and vulnerability. "Just wait here. I'll come back when I'm done telling them, okay?"
As Stevie moved to depart, Rhea's nod felt like a hesitant agreement, a silent pact to weather whatever storm awaited them. Pulling Stevie into one more embrace, Rhea sought solace in the warmth of the hug, as if Stevie's arms could shield her from the torrent of thoughts racing through her mind. In that moment, she chose to surrender to the comfort of Stevie's embrace, allowing it to drown out the cacophony of worries and uncertainties.
Stevie's humming, a soothing melody, and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat became the focal points, a deliberate choice by Rhea to immerse herself in the present. The next minute loomed with the unknown, but for now, she opted for the sanctuary of the moment. The sound of Stevie humming and the rhythmic beating of her heart became a lifeline, pulling Rhea away from the anxieties of the future and into the serene embrace of the now.
Chapter 35: Rain Must Fall
Summary:
Kevin, perhaps attempting to lighten the atmosphere, tossed a casual joke into the mix. "What? Did you sleep with Rhea or something?" His words sparked laughter from Sami and Cody, the room momentarily lightened by the humour.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As Stevie stepped out of the locker room, a facade of optimism clung to her like a fleeting shadow. The smile that adorned her face, an attempt to mask the impending storm, quickly dissolved as the reality of the situation settled in. This was going to be excruciatingly difficult, a test of her resolve that promised to suck the joy out of the moment.
You thought you could escape unscathed, didn't you? You thought you could escape unscathed, didn't you?
The weight of the task ahead pressed on Stevie's shoulders as she traversed the corridors toward Outright's dressing room. The anticipation of the revelation ahead hung in the air, and a sense of foreboding accompanied each step as if she were willingly marching toward her doom. Yet, the knowledge that Outright deserved to hear it from her rather than through whispers and rumours propelled her forward.
Marching toward your doom, willingly offering yourself to the consequences of your actions. Do you genuinely believe this noble act will absolve you? They'll never understand, and you'll be left with the wreckage of the life you once knew. Outright deserves to hear it from you? How noble. But do they deserve the chaos you're about to unleash? The concern on their faces will soon morph into disappointment and anger. You're trading their trust for your selfish truth.
Upon opening the door, the sight of Kevin, Sami, and Cody engrossed in conversation sent a shiver down Stevie's spine. The pit in her stomach expanded as their attention turned toward her, their expressions a canvas of concern.
Look at them, blissfully unaware. Your revelation is a storm about to shatter their world. Your attempts to be the harbinger of truth will only bring destruction. Is your selfish desire for honesty worth the price you're about to pay?
"Woah, what's wrong?" Kevin halted abruptly, a genuine worry etched on his face. "Did you spill your monster or something?" he said jokingly, trying to get her to laugh.
Ah, the concern in their eyes, the genuine worry etched on Kevin's face. They have no idea what's coming, do they? He thinks it's a spilled drink, a harmless mishap. Little does he know, the storm you're about to unleash goes far beyond a mere beverage mishap.
The urge to lighten the mood, to crack a joke and divert their attention, flashed across Stevie's mind. A joke, Stevie? That's your solution? Do you think a laugh can erase the weight of the truth you're about to drop? They're blissfully unaware, and you're considering amusing them with a trivial distraction. How quaint. Instead, she took a deep breath, recognizing the gravity of the revelation she was about to share. "I have to tell you something," she began, her nerves tangled with a thread of confidence.
They're your family, your brothers, your team; surely, they would understand.
"You know what I always say, a team that-" Cody starts.
"Hides things from each other is a team that loses, we know," Sami says, rolling his eyes.
Cody, with his usual quips, and Sami, ever the voice of reason, playing their parts in this unwitting comedy. They're blissfully ignorant, and you, Stevie, are about to shatter their illusions.
"Just please don't be mad at me," Stevie pleaded, the weight of her nerves intensifying as she hesitated to unveil the truth.
And now you're begging? Could you be any more pathetic and weak?
Kevin, perhaps attempting to lighten the atmosphere, tossed a casual joke into the mix. "What? Did you sleep with Rhea or something?" His words sparked laughter from Sami and Cody, the room momentarily lightened by the humour.
Ah, humour is a distraction. A feeble attempt to stave off the impending chaos.
Yet, Stevie seized the opportunity, her face revealing the unease that lingered beneath the surface. "Yeah, I did," she confessed, the pallor of her face betraying the nervousness that enveloped her.
Nice try with the confession, Stevie. But let's not pretend your unease isn't written all over your face. Cody's eye roll? Yeah, that's just the warm-up to the disappointment parade.
Cody, the reliable voice of reason within Outright, couldn't dismiss Stevie's revelation with a mere eye roll. His skepticism echoed in a sarcastic chuckle, "Ha, ha, good one," but the lines etched on his forehead betrayed his unspoken concern. A flicker of suspicion danced in his eyes as he probed further, "What's really wrong?" His intuition, finely tuned from years of shared victories and defeats, sensed an undercurrent that transcended Stevie's attempt at humour.
Vulnerability is on full display, and no joke can save you now. Cody's chuckle is a flimsy disguise for the storm you're brewing. That camaraderie you loved? Well, it's starting to look like a casualty of your own making.
However, as Stevie met his gaze, the vulnerability in her eyes spoke louder than words. The nervousness that played on her features unveiled a truth that no amount of casual banter could conceal. Cody, perceptive and empathetic, recognized the authenticity in her expression. The realization hit him like a sudden storm, transforming his skepticism into a heavy silence that lingered in the air.
Trust shattered, and Cody's simmering anger is just the starter. The room, once full of good vibes, is now a battleground for your questionable decisions. Soak it in, Stevie, because you're knee-deep in the consequences of your choices.
"Stevie," he spoke her name, the tone of his voice darkening with a surge of anger. The camaraderie they had built over the years, the trust that had been a cornerstone of their team dynamics, now stood on shaky ground. Cody's emotions, like a turbulent sea, churned beneath the surface, reflecting the depth of his disappointment and betrayal. Stevie, caught in the crossfire of their reactions, faced the consequences of her choices, her vulnerability laid bare in the face of Cody's anger. The room, once a sanctuary of shared triumphs, now bore witness to the fractures that threatened to reshape the dynamics of Outright forever.
Betrayal looks good on you. That camaraderie you thought was unbreakable? Yeah, it's shaking like a leaf in a storm now. Cody's disappointment is like a tidal wave, crashing over the trust you thought would weather anything.
Kevin, his countenance ablaze with anger, found himself unable to contain the tempest within. The red hue of his face mirrored the intensity of his emotions as he unleashed a torrent of furious French, a language typically reserved for moments of unparalleled frustration. The syllables cascaded like a waterfall of condemnation, each word laden with the weight of his disapproval. "Es-tu fou, Stevie? Tu ne peux pas être sérieux au sujet d'être avec elle! Tu ne te souviens pas de ce qu'elle nous a fait subir? Qu'est-ce qu'elle t'a fait? C'est une psychopathe totale, et vous savez à quel point nous détestons le Jour du Jugement! C'est une narcissique pathétique et égocentrique, et rien de bon ne peut sortir de votre relation. Elle ne t'utilise que pour se venger de nous, et tu craques! Réveille-toi et affronte la réalité, Stevie. Vous savez mieux que ça![1]"
The echoes of Kevin's passionate outburst reverberated through the room, a deafening cacophony of anger punctuating the gravity of the situation. The atmosphere, once charged with shared victories and camaraderie, now crackled with the intensity of an emotional storm.
Oh, you've really outdone yourself this time. The disapproval is thick in the air, and Kevin's questioning your sanity. You thought they'd understand? Think again.
Stevie, facing the onslaught of Kevin's verbal onslaught, couldn't bear to hear Rhea disparaged. In a quiet yet resolute tone, she interjected, "Ne parle pas d'elle comme ça, s'il te plaît.[2]" Her words, a plea for restraint, carried the weight of her loyalty and affection for Rhea. The sinking feeling in Stevie's heart intensified with each insult hurled at the person she loved. The room, now a battleground of emotions, bore witness to the clash of convictions, with Kevin's anger and Stevie's quiet defence casting shadows over the fragile fabric of their team's unity.
As if that's going to change anything. The sinking feeling in your heart? Oh, it's just getting started. Loyalty and affection won't mend the fractures you've caused.
“Tu ne veux pas que je parle d'elle comme ça ? comment pourrais-je ne pas le faire, Stevie ? elle fait partie du Jour du Jugement ! Qu'est-ce qui pourrait bien faire que tu la voies ?[3]” Kevin's voice reverberated even louder, a crescendo of frustration that filled the room. The intensity of his anger painted the air with an undeniable tension, the verbal onslaught expressing his deeply rooted disdain for Rhea.
Cody, typically the voice of reason within Outright, added his voice to the rising chorus. His words, usually measured and calm, now joined the tumultuous outcry in a thunderous tone. "Stevie, come on," Cody implored, his eyes reflecting concern and disappointment. "You're young and dumb, and you weren't thinking straight when you got into this relationship. Don't you see how stupid you're being? You're falling for her tricks; she's using you to play her game, and you're allowing it. She's never going to treat you right, and she's never going to love you the way you deserve to be loved. You're ruining your life, Stevie. Just think about what you're doing, please."
The room, once a haven of shared victories and camaraderie, now became the battleground for a clash of convictions. Kevin's passionate condemnation and Cody's heartfelt plea painted a vivid picture of their collective concern for Stevie. The weight of their words hung in the air, creating a palpable sense of conflict that threatened to redefine the dynamics of Outright forever. Stevie caught between the loyalty she felt for Rhea and the team she considered family, faced an agonizing choice that would leave an indelible mark on the bonds they had forged over years of shared triumphs and defeats.
Young and dumb? That's a low blow. Cody's not holding back. 'Don't you see how stupid you're being?' Oh, the judgment in his eyes. The room, once a haven, is now a battleground. Kevin's condemnation and Cody's heartfelt plea? This is just the prelude to the clash of convictions that will redefine Outright forever.
"I did think about it. I love her!" Stevie declared with unwavering determination. The room, charged with tension, held its breath as her words hung in the air. The sincerity in her voice sought to cut through the storm of disapproval that encircled her.
"Vous l'aimez? Oh Stevie, tu es tellement ridicule. Elle t'utilise![4]" Kevin scoffed, his disbelief evident in the condescending tone of his voice. The weight of his words bore down on Stevie, challenging the authenticity of her emotions.
Stevie, refusing to yield, met Kevin's skepticism head-on. "She's not using me. Stop saying that! She loves me," Stevie insisted, her voice carrying a mixture of frustration and conviction. The echoes of her defence clashed with the disapproval surrounding her, creating a palpable tension within the room.
The lines drawn between loyalty and doubt, love and skepticism, became increasingly defined. Stevie's unwavering belief in her relationship clashed with the skepticism of her teammates, especially Kevin, who viewed her love as a foolish vulnerability. The room, once a space of shared victories and camaraderie, now stood divided by the conflicting convictions of those who called it home. The battle of emotions fought with words and sentiments, cast shadows over the fragile unity that had once defined Outright.
Outright, a team known for their unity and shared purpose, found themselves in an unprecedented moment of discord as they stood united against one of their own. The room, once filled with camaraderie, now buzzed with palpable tension. Kevin's anger radiated like a tangible force, Cody's disappointment cut deep into the emotional fabric of their team, and Sami's sense of betrayal hung heavy in the air, his silent reproach a painful reminder of the bonds that were now strained.
In a rare display of unity against one of their own, delivered the ultimatum, capturing the gravity of the situation. Kev, usually the calm and collected one, declared the ultimatum with finality, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. "If you don't end things with Rhea, you're out."
The ultimatum hit Stevie with a force akin to a bullet to the stomach. The room, once a haven of shared victories and laughter, now echoed with the harsh reality of a fractured team. Anger ignited within Stevie as the weight of the ultimatum sank in. "You're just kicking me out because I love someone?" she retorted, the incredulity evident in her voice. The room crackled with tension; the looming threat of separation overshadowed the unity that once defined Outright.
Look at you, playing the victim. They're just trying to save the team from your foolish choices. Can't you see that your so-called love is tearing everything apart? You brought this upon yourself.
In her moment of desperation, Stevie turned to Sami, seeking the support that had been a constant in their shared journey. Her eyes met his, searching for the understanding and empathy that had often bridged the gaps between them. The silent exchange spoke volumes, but Sami's gaze remained distant, his sense of betrayal casting a shadow over the connection that had once been a source of solace for Stevie. The room, now a battlefield of conflicting emotions, awaited the resolution of a choice that could redefine the fate of Outright.
"What do you want me to say, Stevie?" Sami, typically the voice of empathy within Outright, found himself at a loss for words. Stevie's desperate gaze, seeking solace in his eyes, silently implored him for understanding. However, the response she received was anything but reassuring. Sami's usually warm tone turned cold, cutting through the turmoil with a stark truth. "You really fucked up this time."
The impact of Sami's words hit Stevie like a blow to the gut. The isolation she felt at that moment intensified as the pillar of support she had often relied on seemed to crumble before her. The room, once a space of shared victories and camaraderie, now stood as a stark testament to the consequences of Stevie's choices.
Look at you, Stevie. Your precious support system crumbled, just like you knew it would. Sami saw through your charade. You're standing alone, drowning in the consequences of your idiotic choices.
Sami's unexpected withdrawal of support left Stevie standing on shaky ground, the weight of his disapproval adding to the burden of an already strained situation. The echoes of his words lingered in the air, casting shadows over the fractured unity that had once defined Outright. Stevie, caught in the crossfire of conflicting emotions, faced not only the ultimatum from her team but also the harsh reality of the isolation that came with the choices she had made.
The room, once a haven of camaraderie and shared triumphs, now stood on the precipice of chaos. The echoes of anger and disappointment reverberated, creating a dissonant symphony that underscored the gravity of the situation. The tight-knit bonds that once defined Outright now seemed frayed, unravelling in the face of a revelation threatening to tear the team apart.
Your choices are tearing everything apart. Outright was your family, and now look at the mess you've made. You're the architect of your own destruction.
In the midst of the cacophony, Stevie, desperate for someone to stand by her side, turned to Sami once again. Her plea, laden with sincerity, hung like a fragile hope. "Please, Sami, I... I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I love her," she implored, her words carrying the weight of both regret and determination. The room held its breath, waiting for a response that could either bridge the chasm or widen the divide. "Please don't make me choose-"
"You need to make your choice, Stevie," he stated with unwavering resolve. Sami's expression remained unyielding, a stoic facade in the face of the emotional turmoil. The stark reality of his words served as a stark reminder of the consequences that awaited her decision. The room, once filled with the laughter and camaraderie of a united team, now echoed with the aftershocks of a revelation that had shattered the bonds they once held dear. "And you'll just have to deal with the consequences."
Stevie, caught in the crossfire of conflicting loyalties, faced the agonizing decision of choosing between the love she found in Rhea and the team that had become her family. The locker room, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, awaited the resolution of a choice that held the power to redefine the dynamics of Outright forever. The air hung heavy with tension as the team stood on the brink, awaiting the outcome of a decision that would shape the future of their collective journey.
Notes:
[1] “Are you out of your mind, Stevie? You can't be serious about being with her! Don't you remember what she put us through? What she did to you? She's a total psychopath, and you know how much we hate Judgement Day! She's a pathetic, self-centred narcissist, and nothing good can possibly come from you two being together. She's only using you to get back at us, and you're falling for it! Wake up and face reality, Stevie. You know better than this!”
[2] “Don't speak about her like that, please.”
[3] “You don't want me to talk about her like that? How can I not, stevie? She's part of the Judgment Day! What could possibly make it ok that you're seeing her?”
[4] “You love her? Oh, stevie, you are so ridiculous. She's using you!"
Chapter 36: The Loser in the End
Summary:
Rhea, sensing the weight on Stevie's shoulders, inquired with concern, "How'd it go?"
Chapter Text
Stevie's pulse quickened with each step she took towards Rhea, the resonating echoes of her heartbeat a testament to the internal struggle playing out within her. Determination and trepidation intertwined, creating a complex tapestry of emotions that coloured the canvas of her decision.
Entering the empty locker room, she was met with Rhea's hopeful gaze. The question lingered in the air, and Stevie, despite the turmoil threatening to consume her, summoned a forced chuckle in an attempt to mask the storm raging within. Her eyes, however, betrayed the truth as they glistened with the threat of tears.
Rhea, sensing the weight on Stevie's shoulders, inquired with concern, "How'd it go?"
Stevie took a deep breath, attempting to steady the quiver in her voice. "Not great," she admitted, the forced chuckle dissipating into the heavy air of the locker room. The bench became a sanctuary as Stevie sat beside Rhea, the weight of the ultimatum sinking into the fibres of her being. "They're making me choose," she confided, the quiet admission carrying the gravity of the decision she was forced to confront. The room, once filled with the sounds of camaraderie, now bore witness to the delicate dance of emotions playing out between Stevie and Rhea. The air, thick with anticipation, awaited the unfolding of a narrative that could redefine the very essence of Stevie's existence within the team she had come to consider family.
"Oh god, Damian was right," Rhea sighed, her fingers rubbing her forehead as stress radiated. The weight of the situation pressed on both of them and Stevie couldn't help but let her head sink into her hands. Seeking solace, Stevie leaned over, resting her head on Rhea's shoulder. Rhea's arms instinctively encircled Stevie's shoulders, creating a cocoon of mutual support. At that moment, it became evident—they needed to lean on each other finding strength in their connection.
The heavy air hung between them, pregnant with unspoken words and the ache of an impending farewell. Stevie, grappling with the stress, sighed deeply, attempting to release the pent-up emotions threatening to engulf her.
"Well, it was amazing while it lasted," Rhea said sadly, a melancholic acceptance settling in, assuming Stevie had chosen to remain with Outright. "I'm sorry it had to end this way."
Stevie's response, however, shattered the anticipated narrative. "What? No, I've made my decision, Rhea. I'm going to choose us…" she declared, her voice resolute and unwavering despite the emotional turbulence brewing beneath the surface. Stevie, feeling the need to clarify her decision, trailed off before mustering the courage to speak. "So... I'm going to be out of Outright," Her words morphed into a deep sigh, a moment of catharsis as she exhaled the stress building up inside her.
Rhea, expecting the worst, observed Stevie's expression. The anticipation shifted to confusion as a realization dawned. "Stevie, you can't do that. Outright is your family. You love them," she protested, concern etching her features. Standing up, Rhea regarded Stevie with a mixture of disbelief and worry, unsure of the path Stevie was about to take.
"I love you more," Stevie replied earnestly, her eyes locked onto Rhea's. The weight of her decision hung in the air, a palpable tension that wrapped around them like an invisible thread. "The guys will understand eventually. I need to choose love over everything else," she shrugged, her attempt at nonchalance failing to conceal the moment's gravity. A feeble attempt at humour followed, "and hey, maybe I'll join the Judgment Day," she said, her voice carrying a hint of levity that clashed with the seriousness of their conversation.
However, Rhea, fully aware of the magnitude of the decision, took a step back, her eyes betraying a hidden undercurrent of sadness. The weight of Stevie's choice settled on her shoulders, and the realization that Stevie was willing to sacrifice everything for their love sent a pang of heartbreak through her. "Stevie, I can't let you throw everything away for me. Outright is where you belong. It's your passion. You've been with them for years. They're your family. Don't sacrifice that for me," Rhea pleaded her words, a desperate attempt to protect Stevie from a choice that seemed fueled by the intensity of their emotions.
Stevie, refusing to accept Rhea's stance, stood up too, their closeness now replaced by an unspoken distance. Desperation etched on her face, Stevie reached for Rhea's hand, hoping to convey the depth of her feelings. "But you're the one who told me not to care about what Cody, Kev, and Sami said. You're the reason I found the courage to choose love," she implored, her gaze locked into Rhea's, pleading for a change of heart.
Rhea sighed, her gaze softening with an admixture of love and pain. "Stevie, I was stupid. I thought we could make it work," she admitted, looking away as she blinked back tears, "but we'll never work. we are too different." The admission hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the gap between their desires and the harsh reality they faced. "I love you, Stevie. I love you more than anything. But I also know how much Outright means to you. It's not about what I want; it's about what's best for you in the long run," she concluded, the weight of the decision settling into the shattered pieces of their shared dreams.
No, no, you can't let her leave. She's good, she's lovely. She loves you. No, no, she can't do this.
Stevie's eyes welled up with tears, the emotional weight of the moment threatening to overflow. "Rhea, please. I love you. I can't lose you," she pleaded, the desperation in her voice echoing through the empty locker room. The choice before them hung in the air like a heavy storm cloud, and Stevie's heart, caught in the tempest, beat with an irregular rhythm.
Rhea, understanding the pain that lingered beneath Stevie's words, stepped away, creating a distance that felt like an unbridgeable chasm. The ache in their hearts mirrored the physical separation, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable. "I'm sorry, Stevie, but we have to do what's best," Rhea whispered, her voice carrying the weight of the shared sorrow.
Stevie, don't let her do this.
"No, please, Rhea," Stevie stepped forward, reaching for Rhea's hand, her voice breaking with the strain of her emotions. The room echoed with the sound of their shared heartache, each plea and rejection carving a deeper wound. "Please don't do this. I love you. Please don't leave."
Rhea gently pulled her hand away, turning to shield her tears from Stevie's gaze. The silence that followed spoke volumes, a painful punctuation to their shared history. "Sometimes, choosing the better option hurts the most," Rhea uttered, her words heavy with regret. With that, she left the room, leaving Stevie standing amidst the echoes of their fractured love. In that departure, it felt as if Rhea had taken half of Stevie's heart with her, leaving the other half to endure the lonely ache of lost love.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no,no,nonononono
Distraught and defeated, Stevie emerged from the locker room, her heart carrying the burden of Rhea's decision like an anchor. The weight of unspoken sorrow clung to her, making each step toward the Outright locker room feel like a journey through an emotional battlefield.
nonononono
As Stevie approached, Cody opened the door, his usual calm demeanour replaced by concern at the sight of her tear-streaked face. He widened the door, silently inviting Stevie into the space once a haven of shared victories and laughter. Stevie entered her expression void of emotion except for the glistening tears on her cheeks.
nonononono
Kevin and Sami, usually the vocal pillars of their team, looked at Stevie with a palpable silence that filled the room. The heavy air seemed to echo the unspoken turmoil that had transpired in the moments leading to this encounter. Stevie, unable to find her voice, succumbed to the overwhelming emotions, her body trembling as she covered her face to hide her crying.
nonononono
Cody, ever perceptive to the needs of his teammates, recognized the depth of pain reflected in Stevie's eyes. Without a word, he enveloped her in a comforting hug, a gesture that transcended the need for words. At that moment, the fractures within Outright were laid bare, the weight of their collective sorrow hanging in the air. However, the bonds of friendship, resilient even in the face of heartbreak, held firm, offering a glimmer of solace in the midst of their shared pain.
nonononono
Chapter 37: My Melancholy Blues
Summary:
"Well?" he queried, the tone of his voice a delicate dance between expectancy and empathy.
Chapter Text
Rhea, her heart burdened by the crushing weight of the decision she had just made, navigated the path back to the Judgment Day dressing room. The once-familiar corridors now seemed longer, each step echoing the profound solitude she now faced. The quiet journey served as a poignant backdrop to the turmoil within her. An internal storm mirrored the emotional upheaval she had unleashed.
Congratulations on ruining what could've been a good thing.
Upon entering the dressing room, the members of Judgment Day turned their attention toward her, their expressions revealing a tumultuous blend of curiosity, anger, and genuine concern. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken questions, the air thick with anticipation as Damian, perceptive as ever, broke the silence.
"Well?" he queried, the tone of his voice a delicate dance between expectancy and empathy.
"I called it off," Rhea declared, the weight of her words resonating in the room. The quiet revelation hung in the air, creating a palpable tension among her teammates. Damian, known for his unwavering demeanour, softened as he discerned the pain on Rhea's face.
You thought you could have it all, didn't you? Love and success. Well, now you have neither. Genius move, really.
"You did the right thing," Damian affirmed, conveying understanding and support. The sentiment resonated among the members of Judgment Day, their expressions reflecting a shared acknowledgment of the problematic decision Rhea had made. Stevie's presence had woven itself into the fabric of Rhea's life for a significant part of the year, and the conscious act of severing that connection for the greater good of Stevie's well-being did not go unnoticed.
Oh, look at them, Rhea. You think they are offering support and understanding for your brilliant move. As if. they think you're weak. They think you're pathetic.
The others echoed Damian's sentiment, their eyes conveying a mix of sympathy and appreciation for Rhea's sacrifice. The unspoken understanding hung in the air as they offered her consolation, recognizing the depth of the emotional turmoil she must be facing.
Rhea accepted their words with a nod of gratitude, but as she stepped out of the Judgment Day dressing room, the weight of her choice settled into the deepest recesses of her mind. The gravity of the situation, the void left by Stevie's absence, and the burden of her decision loomed over her like a heavy cloud.
Alone in the confines of her hotel room, the silence became oppressive, pressing against her as if seeking to amplify the magnitude of her emotions. The familiar spectre of insomnia, once held at bay by the warmth of Stevie's presence, returned with a vengeance. The absence of Stevie's comforting touch accentuated the ache in Rhea's heart, and the room, devoid of the laughter and shared moments they had once enjoyed, became a stark reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of love.
Each passing moment etched the reality of the separation more deeply into Rhea's consciousness. The emotional storm within her showed no signs of abating. As the night stretched on, the struggle with insomnia became an unwelcome companion, mirroring the turmoil that unfolded within the depths of her soul.
The empty expanse of her bed echoed the cold absence of Stevie's body, the warmth that once enveloped her now replaced by a stark void. The sheets, once a canvas for shared dreams and whispered confessions, clung to the chill of solitude, a tangible reminder of the space Stevie's presence used to occupy.
The hollowness of the room magnified the quiet, the absence of Stevie's rhythmic breathing and gentle humming, creating a vacuum that seemed to swallow the very essence of their shared moments. The darkness, once a backdrop to the intimate interplay of two souls, now stood as a silent witness to the absence that lingered, casting shadows that whispered of love lost.
The stillness, starkly contrasted with the vibrant symphony of their togetherness, settled like a heavy shroud. The room, once alive with the harmonious dance of shared laughter and whispered confidences, now bore witness to the silence of a solitary night. The void left by Stevie's absence permeated the air, a haunting reminder of the bond severed in the name of difficult choices.
As Rhea lay in the stillness of her hotel room, the elusive embrace of sleep slipping through her fingers, the emotions she had restrained now surged forth with relentless intensity. The carefully constructed walls that shielded her vulnerability crumbled like ancient ruins, leaving her exposed to the raw anguish that had been building within. The tears, long held back, traced a path down her cheeks, each drops a poignant testimony to the fracture of a love she had believed could withstand the trials of time.
In the quiet solitude of the night, Rhea surrendered to the weight of her grief. Insomnia, once soothed by the comforting warmth of Stevie's presence, now clung to her like an unrelenting spectre. Shadows of doubt and regret danced in the corners of her mind, casting a haunting pallor over the room that had witnessed the crescendo and finale of a love story.
Clutching the pillow from the side of the bed where Stevie's essence lingered, Rhea sought solace in the tangible remnants of their shared moments. Each sob, a painful echo of the void left by Stevie's absence, reverberated in the room's silence. The cold, the quiet, the overwhelming sense of loneliness enveloped her, an unwelcome symphony that underscored the profound loss she now grappled with
It was just so cold.
It's just so quiet.
She just felt so alone.
So cold
So quiet
So alone
Cold
Quiet.
Alone.
Chapter 38: Tear It Up
Summary:
Sami's disbelief was palpable. "You didn’t choose us?" he asked, shock registering on his face.
Chapter Text
Stevie stared at the can of monster on the table in front of her. Stevie sat at the table cluttered with makeup, her usually lively persona replaced by a distant gaze. The can of Monster before her seemed to hold the weight of the world as she stared, lost in thought. The makeup, usually organized and neatly arranged, now lay scattered on the table. The mirror, typically a canvas reflecting her vibrant expressions, now mirrored a blank, numb stare that betrayed the storm raging inside.
The room, adorned with the familiar Outright banners and memorabilia, felt different. The palpable void overshadowed the camaraderie that once filled the space. The vibrant colours of Stevie’s new gear seemed to lose their lustre, and the rhinestones and bright colour seemed to fade in Stevie’s eyes, leaving only the unfamiliar feeling on her legs of not wearing her fishnet tights. the once welcoming atmosphere now tainted by the ache of a fractured family.
Stevie's gaze remained fixed on the can of Monster, a symbol of routine disrupted by the upheaval in her personal life. The table, usually a hub of shared laughter and camaraderie, now served as a silent witness to Stevie's internal struggle.
“Stevie, for fucks sake,”
“Oh, did I do that?”
"I hate you,"
“Not as much as I hate you,"
The memories flooded Stevie's mind, each one a poignant reminder of the love she had lost. As she sat in the Outright dressing room, the weight of Rhea's departure lingered in the air. Raw loomed on the horizon, and the once-familiar routine of preparing for the show now felt like an arduous task. The echoes of camaraderie were replaced by a haunting silence, reflecting the emptiness that echoed in Stevie's heart.
Sami's attempt to inject humour into the room, commenting on Stevie's eye shadow, was met with a muted response. Even Kevin, known for his cheerful banter, couldn't coax a smile from Stevie. The couch behind her held the presence of her teammates, offering support in their own way, but the atmosphere remained heavy with the weight of heartbreak.
“I don’t think you can go on stage with only one side of your eye shadow done,” Sami quipped with a chuckle, attempting to lift the sombre mood.
“It’s the new look. All the kids are doing it these days,” Kevin joined in, his tone light in an effort to bring some fun to the room.
However, Stevie's eyes remained fixed on the makeup in front of her, her movements mechanical as she went through the motions. The routine, once a comforting muscle memory, now felt like a hollow ritual. The brushes and powders served as mere tools, unable to fill the void left by Rhea's absence.
"Come on, Stevie," Kevin nudged her playfully, a glimmer of his usual joviality in his eyes. "We're about to kick some ass, show some team spirit," he joked, attempting to inject a sense of camaraderie into the sombre atmosphere.
“I’m doing eyeliner,” Stevie replied, her tone sharper than Kevin had anticipated. The words carried a weight of detachment, signalling her desire to be left alone, uninterested in the usual banter and jokes. As she finished the rest of her makeup, she kept silent, keeping her eyes on her mirror.
Cody, perceptive as ever, sensed the shift in Stevie's energy. He came over and ruffled Stevie's hair. "Hey, we're proud of you, Stevie," he remarked, a genuine smile on his lips. "Choosing us over her—it was a tough call, but we're your family, and I'm proud you went with us." Sami and Kevin nodded in agreement, offering smiles as well.
Stevie's eyes flashed with frustration, and she scoffed. “Well, I didn’t so…” she shrugged, shaking her head slightly.
“What do you mean?” Kevin asked, confused.
“I didn’t choose you guys. Rhea chose for me,” she said, sighing, starting to put away her makeup.
Sami's disbelief was palpable. "You didn’t choose us?" he asked, shock registering on his face.
Stevie shrugged again, an air of nonchalance failing to mask the emotional turmoil beneath the surface. “Of course, I didn’t. When I told you I was in love with someone, you all blew up in my face. You guys were real assholes. You gave some stupid fucking ultimatum between my family and the woman I love .” She looked at them, her gaze piercing, unyielding.
"You didn't just tell us you loved someone. You told us you were getting all chummy with the Judgment Day," Kevin interjected, frustration creeping into his voice.
"I wasn’t getting ‘chummy’ with the Judgment Day ,” she said, making air quotes with her fingers. “I was dating Rhea. We were in a relationship. We loved each other," Stevie declared, her tone resolute, refusing to back down from the confrontation with Kevin. The weight of her words lingered in the room, the tension thickening as the truth unfolded. " So, no, I didn’t choose Outright. But Rhea didn’t want me to throw this all away for her, so she broke it off."
Cody, sensing Stevie's escalating emotions, attempted to intervene, saying, "Stevie-"
" No, Cody, you don't get it. I didn't choose you. Rhea chose you for me! " The dam of emotions broke, and Stevie’s voice surged with the anger she had bottled up for so long. The weight of the ultimatum, the pain of Rhea's departure, and the realization that she had lost the love of her life overwhelmed her. " Do you know how hard it is for me not to hate you guys for making me choose? " she shouted, her anger cutting through the air. " What you did was a really shitty thing to do, and it fucking hurt me! " The room, once a sanctuary, now echoed with the turmoil of emotions unleashed.
“Stevie, I know it’s hard, but you lied to us, a team that hides things-”
" If you finish that fucking sentence, Cody, I'm going to lose my shit ," Stevie snapped, glaring at him. "I know I lied, I know it was wrong, that is why I'm still here, that is why I showed up today.” she motioned to the room around her “to support you, and to support Kevin, and Sami, and-and the team!” she gestured to the guys “That is why I'm still in Outright. But we weren’t losing when I was with Rhea!"
Cody, stunned by the outburst, listened as Stevie poured her heart out. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Rhea had sacrificed their love for Stevie's greater good. The room, once filled with tension, now hung in a heavy silence as the magnitude of Stevie's loss sank in.
" I was happy with her, Cody. We were both doing better and more successful in WWE. I didn’t lose a single match over the seven months. Rhea got a title shot, and It was working. But you guys had to make me choose, and now she's gone, " Stevie's voice wavered, a raw vulnerability exposed. " She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and now she's gone because of you."
Cody, now understanding the depth of Rhea's sacrifice, felt a pang of guilt. The room, once filled with the echoes of laughter, now carried the weight of an irreparable loss. Outright, their bonds tested and strained, and they faced the consequences of a choice that had fractured the very fabric of their family.
“I am sick and tired of you all treating me like I’m some naive child. Just because I made a decision that doesn't align with your thoughts of who is acceptable for me to date doesn't make me stupid or incapable of making my own choices.”
As Stevie unleashed the torrent of her thoughts, each word seemed to cascade from her lips with an unstoppable force, as if a floodgate had been opened, and the pent-up emotions she had harboured for so long surged forth like a relentless tide. Once she found the courage to speak her mind, it was as though the floodgates of her soul had swung wide open, and there was an uncontainable urgency in how she articulated her feelings. The verbal deluge, once initiated, flowed with an intensity that painted the air with the vibrant hues of her emotions, and it became abundantly clear that the dam of restrained sentiments had crumbled, allowing a raw and unfiltered expression of her truth.
“Let me make this crystal clear: I am an adult capable of forming my own opinions and living my own life. If you can't accept that, then tough luck. And you know what? If I had to go back and do it all over again, I would make the same damn decision. I would still choose to be with Rhea, I would still choose to go behind your backs, and I would still fight tooth and nail to make it work. Because it’s now perfectly clear, you all will never come to accept Rhea just because of who she chooses to call her family. Because that’s what the judgment day is, they are just like us. They are a family. They stand by one another no matter what. ”
A shimmering mist gathered in the corners of Stevie's eyes, a delicate testament to the emotional upheaval swirling within her. As she lay bare the depths of her feelings, an unspoken weight lifting off her chest, the moisture in her eyes shimmered like dewdrops clinging to the fragile petals of an exposed bloom. The emotional tide, once held back, now surged, and in the glistening reflection of her emotions, you could almost perceive the unspoken stories etched in the wellsprings of her gaze. The vulnerability emanating from those tear-brimmed eyes revealed a profound, implicit narrative that transcended mere words as if each glistening drop carried the weight of a silenced truth finally given voice.
“And I love you three like my own fucking blood. You are my brothers, my family, and my love for this team runs deep. But don't get it twisted because my love for Rhea runs even deeper. So when you all had the audacity to look me in the eyes and force me into some ridiculous ultimatum, demanding that I choose between the people I care about the most, you crossed the fucking line! It was messed up, beyond messed up. How dare you try to make me choose between the two most important aspects of my life?
Stevie's voice, once steady and resolute, now fractured under the weight of her emotional revelation. A palpable tremor resonated in her words as they escaped her lips, and the first inklings of tears betrayed the vulnerability she had been concealing. As her voice wavered, a delicate cascade of tears began to trace the contours of her cheeks.
In response, Kevin and Sami, who had been mere spectators to this emotional outpour, found their gazes drawn to the ground. Stevie's impassioned words acted as a mirror, reflecting the stark reality of the impact their actions had on her. In the silent acknowledgment of their role in her anguish, a heavy blanket of guilt unfurled within the pit of their stomachs.
“I am part of this team. I will stand with you all, but I will not sacrifice my happiness if you disagree with who I get it from again. Love is not a negotiation, and I will not apologize for choosing to love who I love. So please don’t make me walk away from you all. Because I am done pretending that everything is okay. This team means a lot to me, but love means everything. And if you can't respect that, maybe it's time for me to reassess who truly deserves a place in my life.”
Locking eyes with Cody, Stevie's gaze bore a firm resolve, and her words rang out with a clarity that brooked no argument. Without lingering, she pivoted on her heels, departing the Outright dressing room. The weight of her parting words hung like an oppressive fog, dense and lingering, creating an atmosphere pregnant with unspoken tension.
But as Stevie walked away. For the first time in a long time, her mind was quiet.
Chapter 39: Some Day, One Day
Summary:
Her attention, however, was drawn upwards, fixated on the intricate dance of abstract patterns playing out on the ceiling in the soft glow. The tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by an unexpected intrusion—a sharp, unanticipated knock reverberating through the hushed confines of her temporary haven.
Chapter Text
Rhea found herself immersed in the dimly lit ambiance of her hotel room, stretched out on the bed, the weight of anticipation lingering in the air. The eve of Summer Slam loomed, casting a shadow of thoughts and stress that kept her wide awake. The television droned on with the inconsequential banter of a forgettable late-night reality show, serving as mere background noise to her restless mind.
Her attention, however, was drawn upwards, fixated on the intricate dance of abstract patterns playing out on the ceiling in the soft glow. The tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by an unexpected intrusion—a sharp, unanticipated knock reverberating through the hushed confines of her temporary haven.
Hope flickered within Rhea as she entertained the possibility that it might be Stevie, reminiscent of that late-night visit many months ago. Yet, as she reluctantly approached the door, her confusion deepened, contrasting the night she now found herself in.
Standing on the other side was Cody, an aura of sophistication and the residue of a press event clinging to his impeccably pressed suit. A moment of suspended silence hung in the air before Rhea, her expression a delicate blend of surprise and caution, finally spoke up. "Cody? What do you want?"
His response came with a measured steadiness, "Came to talk." There was an absence of malice in his demeanour, a fact not lost on Rhea as she hesitated before posing the inevitable question, "Mind if I come in?"
Rhea gracefully stepped aside, creating an entrance for Cody into the room. The television continued its muted performance, casting flickering patterns of light that painted the space with an almost ethereal glow. The voices from the forgettable reality show persisted but were now mere whispers, fading into the background, leaving the room in a contemplative silence. The air itself seemed to carry the weight of recent events, creating an atmosphere thick with unspoken emotions.
As Cody entered, he took a moment to navigate through the subdued ambiance, choosing his words with deliberate care. "Look, Rhea," he began, his tone carrying a sincerity that cut through the quiet. "I know the history between us, Outright and Judgment Day, hasn't exactly been a harmonious one. And all that has painted a less-than-flattering picture of you in my mind. But something changed last week, and I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days."
Rhea's eyebrow arched in a display of curiosity, her attention now fully focused on Cody. "Changed? How?"
Cody released a sigh, the weight of his revelation apparent in the thoughtful furrow of his brow. "You gave up Stevie, not because you wanted to, but because you believed it was the best thing for her. That's not an easy thing to do, to let go of someone you love for their own good."
Rhea's gaze drifted away, her eyes avoiding Cody's as the hollow ache in her stomach intensified. Memories of what transpired between her and Stevie replayed in her mind, casting a sombre shadow over the present. "Are you just here to rub it in because—" she began, the unspoken pain lingering in her words.
"I'm not here to do that," Cody interjected quickly, a genuine earnestness colouring his words. "I'm here to tell you that I realized, deep down, there's more to you than I thought." He accompanied his revelation with a subtle nod. "And I now realize we both have Stevie's best interest at heart."
Rhea, absorbing Cody's words, offered a silent nod in acknowledgment, a subtle but significant gesture that bridged a tentative understanding between them.
Cody's words hung in the air, painting a vivid picture of Stevie's emotional turmoil. "She's clearly heartbroken. She's not sleeping, barely eating, in the gym at ungodly hours of the night. She's wearing your shirt nonstop—"
Rhea's voice cut in, a quiet inquiry filled with a mix of surprise and nostalgia, "She's wearing my shirt?" The recollection of Stevie donning one of her shirts, a familiar comfort in difficult times, played out in Rhea's mind.
Cody responded with a lighthearted chuckle, "Yeah, she does. Shows up to training in it every morning."
Rhea couldn't help but reciprocate the laughter, a quiet and shared amusement filling the space. She shook her head, a fond smile gracing her lips as the simple yet meaningful connection between Stevie and her shirt became a source of warmth amid the complexities of the moment.
Cody's revelation continued his words carrying a weight of insight. "And I was looking back at old promos of the past few months and saw how you looked at her. It's like you're looking at the sun. You love her, Rhea. It's plain to see. And Stevie loves you, too. I may not completely understand it, but I can't deny the depth of your connection." A moment of contemplative silence followed as Cody paused, recalling one of his pearls of wisdom. "And I always say You only really lose when you give up trying."
Rhea nodded in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the truth embedded in his words. There was a glimmer of hope, a silent plea in her gaze, as she hoped Cody was indeed conveying what she desperately wished to hear.
Cody's assurance continued, his words tempered with a dose of reality. "Now," he continued, "I can't promise that Kevin and Sami will be all sunshine and rainbows about it. They'll probably be jerks at first, but I'll do my best to support your relationship. I can see how much you both care about each other and maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for something good here." A small, genuine smile accompanied his words.
Rhea, touched by Cody's sincerity, managed a small but appreciative smile. "Thanks, Cody. It means more than you know."
"Just..." Cody's gaze shifted away momentarily, a touch of vulnerability in his expression. "Make her happy. She's a big part of the team, and she's like family, and..." he sighed, a hint of concern creasing his brow. "Just make sure she's taken care of." He directed his gaze back to Rhea, a more lighthearted note entering his tone. "And for God's sake, make sure she's sleeping." Cody couldn't help but laugh.
"I will," Rhea responded with a chuckle of her own. "She'll get a full 8 hours every night." The shared laughter momentarily lightened the room, a bridge of understanding and support forming between them.
Cody nodded and stood, but before walking to the door, he put his hand out for Rhea to shake. "I look forward to getting to know you better."
Rhea reciprocated the gesture, clasping his hand in hers. A quick nod accompanied her words, "And the same to you." The exchange held a promise of potential understanding.
Time to get stevie back.
Chapter 40: See What a Fool I've Been
Summary:
"What are you doing in our dressing room?" Kevin's words sliced through the air, laced with a touch of anger, the tension in the room escalating.
Chapter Text
The electric atmosphere of the SummerSlam arena crackled with palpable excitement as Rhea strolled through the labyrinthine backstage corridors. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with the enthusiasm of thousands of fans awaiting the spectacle about to unfold in the squared circle. The backstage area pulsed with a frenetic energy, a living, breathing entity in itself.
The dimly lit hallways were a hive of activity, a chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps and echoed conversations. Wrestlers, adorned in vibrant and elaborate costumes, darted around like shooting stars, each on a mission to perfect every last detail for the impending pay-per-view extravaganza. The scent of adrenaline hung in the air, intermingling with the faint aroma of sweat and the distant cheers of the crowd.
Amid the organized chaos, Rhea navigated the bustling backstage with a practiced ease. The urgency of last-minute preparations surrounded her, but her focus was elsewhere. Her keen eyes, framed by the dim glow of fluorescent lights overhead, scanned the vibrant tapestry of the backstage milieu. Yet, the familiar figure of Stevie remained elusive, adding a layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere.
As Rhea moved through the backstage maze, the distant echoes of the crowd's excitement reverberated through the expansive corridors, creating a sensory backdrop to the backstage drama. The thumping bass of entrance music and snippets of the announcer's commentary seeped through the walls, further heightening the thick anticipation in the air.
With only five minutes until her high-stakes match against Charlotte, Rhea's heart raced, not solely due to the impending fight but also fueled by the mounting anxiety of not finding Stevie. The pulsating backstage environment mirrored the beating of her heart, both elements converging to create an immersive experience that transported the reader into the nerve-wracking backstage world of SummerSlam.
Little did Rhea know, Stevie had surreptitiously selected the seclusion of Outright's exclusive dressing room as her sanctuary for pre-event preparations. In the privacy of that guarded space, the air hung heavy with a blend of nervous anticipation and the lingering scent of makeup and sweat from previous battles. Stevie's strategic retreat into this haven aimed to sidestep any potential awkward encounters with Rhea, recognizing that facing her would only amplify the emotional tumult already swirling within.
As Rhea approached Outright's dressing room, an urgent undertow gripped her, a relentless pull toward the impending confrontation both inside the squared circle and the more personal battle that loomed offstage. The corridor, dimly lit and lined with the glow of fluorescent lights, seemed to stretch endlessly, each step propelling her deeper into the heart of her own apprehensions.
The atmosphere around Outright's dressing room was charged with a subdued tension, a perceptible quiet before the storm. The door loomed ahead, an unassuming barrier between Rhea and the resolution she sought. The muffled sounds of hushed conversations and the distant hum of the crowd outside provided a haunting soundtrack to her internal struggle.
As Rhea's footsteps echoed through the hallway, the pulse of her own heartbeat reverberated in her ears, a rhythmic reminder of the ticking clock. Time slipped away with each passing moment, and the weight of expectation bore down on her shoulders. The stark contrast between the backstage atmosphere and the roar of the crowd heightened the gravity of the situation.
Amid this backstage ballet, Rhea's senses were heightened, the air thick with the unspoken tension between herself and Stevie. The impending clash in the ring was mirrored by the quieter but no less intense battle of emotions behind the closed door of Outright's dressing room. The intersection of personal and professional drama converged in this backstage tapestry, creating a narrative tension that mirrored the emotional turmoil of the characters involved.
As Rhea reached the dressing room door, she paused, inhaling deeply as if bracing herself for the whirlwind within. With a persistent push, she swung the door open, revealing a scene of organized chaos.
Kevin and Sami, a dynamic duo in the making, huddled together in a corner of the dressing room, strategizing and fine-tuning their game plan for the upcoming tag team match. The air crackled with their shared intensity as they mapped out their synchronized maneuvers, a well-choreographed dance of strength and strategy.
Cody donned his wrestling attire and meticulously checked and rechecked his gear, ensuring every element was in place for his imminent ringside appearance. The anticipation across his face mirrored the gravity of the night's proceedings as he mentally prepared to accompany Kevin and Sami to the ring.
Meanwhile, Stevie, a portrait of focused determination, stood before the mirror. In the backstage whirlwind, she carefully braided her hair up and out of her face and out of the way of her wrestling attire, the vibrant colours and intricate design a testament to the meticulous craftsmanship that went into each garment. The final touches to her hair were a blend of precision and flair, also preparing to support Sami and Kevin ringside.
Rhea's sharp eyes swiftly identified Stevie amidst the hustle and bustle. "Stevie!" Her voice, a clarion call, cut through the commotion like a blade. In the backstage symphony, the figures of Sami, Kevin, and Cody blurred in the periphery, their presence amplifying the charged atmosphere within the room.
Stevie caught off guard, turned toward the doorway, a momentary flicker of surprise in her eyes before a guard descended over her features like a drawn curtain. The room, once a hive of frenetic activity, now seemed to freeze as Rhea ventured further into the heart of the storm.
"What are you doing in our dressing room?" Kevin's words sliced through the air, laced with a touch of anger, the tension in the room escalating.
"I need to talk to Stevie," Rhea asserted, urgency and determination woven into her voice as if the very fabric of the backstage drama depended on this conversation.
“You can’t just—” Kevin began, but Cody intervened, silencing him with a gesture. Cody, a pillar supporting Rhea and Stevie’s relationship, offered an encouraging nod, a silent promise of solidarity in the face of brewing conflict. The unspoken tension in the room thickened, the backstage theatre unfolding with each word and gesture, a microcosm of the emotional turmoil playing out on the grand stage beyond.
Caught off guard, Stevie began to speak, "Rhea-"
However, Rhea, determined and on a tight schedule, cut her off. "Look, I wanted to express this in a more tender, romantic way, but I've got four minutes until I have to step through that stage door, so I'm just going to lay it out."
Stevie, rendered silent by the abruptness of the moment, stood in the quiet aftermath, uncertain of what else to say. The backstage tension hung thick, the unspoken words echoing in the air as the countdown to Rhea's entrance ticked away.
"I made a mistake," Rhea confessed, her words tumbling out in a desperate plea. "Ending things with you was wrong. I let the opinions of others cloud my judgment, which was a colossal error. Stevie, I love you. I've been lost without you."
Stevie's eyes revealed a flicker of vulnerability, yet she maintained her silence, granting Rhea the space to lay bare her emotions. The air in the room hung heavy with the weight of Rhea's admission, the unspoken tension between them poised on the precipice of resolution.
"I don't care about the opinions of judgment day," Rhea asserted, her voice resolute. "I want to be with you. My love for you is unwavering and timeless. Regardless of what others may say, I'm committed to us. If you're willing, I want us to be together."
A weighty silence settled in the room as Stevie absorbed Rhea's heartfelt words. The once bustling dressing room, now draped in stillness, accentuated the moment's gravity.
Feeling the urgency of time, Rhea's gaze flicked toward the stage door. "I have to go, Stevie, but I needed you to know. Take your time to think about it, okay?"
With that, Rhea hurriedly made her exit, leaving Stevie enveloped in the aftermath of her heartfelt admission. Yet, Rhea had little time to dwell on the emotional exchange. She sprinted toward the stage door, where Finn, Damian, and Dominik awaited her.
"Cutting it close now, are we?" Finn quipped with a chuckle, observing Rhea's hasty preparations to step out into the arena. "You ready?" he inquired, anticipating the impending match echoing in his question.
"I'm always ready," Rhea asserted, her words ringing with unyielding confidence. A surge of eager anticipation coursed through her veins as she skillfully cracked her neck, the satisfying pop serving as an audible prelude to the building tension within her. With a deliberate roll of her shoulder and a subtle posture adjustment, Rhea physically attuned herself to the imminent confrontation. Puffing her chest out, she drew a deep breath, inhaling the charged atmosphere that enveloped her like a tangible cloak.
Under Finn's approving nod, the mastermind behind their entrance, Rhea, moved purposefully onto the stage, crossing the threshold from the muted backstage shadows to the blinding brilliance of the spotlight in the arena. This transition heightened the sensory experience to a crescendo. The deafening roar of the crowd surged around her, an intangible force that reverberated through every fibre of her being. The collective energy of the audience became an electric current, infusing Rhea with a palpable surge of adrenaline as she stepped into the arena, ready to seize the stage and make her mark.
Chapter 41: The March of the Black Queen
Summary:
The crowd was deafening. The screaming and the cheers hyping Rhea up further.
Chapter Text
The pulsating beat of Rhea's entrance music filled the arena, signalling her arrival. With each step she took toward the ring, the anticipation in the crowd reached a fever pitch. The stage, bathed in various coloured lights, set the scene for the impending clash between Rhea Ripley and Charlotte Flair.
As Rhea climbed through the ropes and into the squared circle, the atmosphere crackled with tension. The stakes were high, and the energy in the arena hung thick. On the other side of the ring, Charlotte, adorned in regal attire, wore a sly smirk that hinted at a devious plan.
“The following contest is for the World Women’s Championship!” Samantha’s voice echoed through the stadium as the crowd cheered. “Introducing the challenger! Representing the judgment day and accompanied to the ring by Damian Priest, Dominik Mysterio, and Finn Bálor! From Adelaide, South Australia,” Rhea stepped into the center of the ring, raising her fists to the sky. “Rhea Ripley!”
The crowd was deafening. The screaming and the cheers hyping Rhea up further.
“And her opponent, she is the women’s world champion! Charlotte flair!” Charlotte held the belt up, the crowd cheering her on as well.
The resonating chime of the bell marked the commencement of the clash between Rhea Ripley and Charlotte Flair, echoing through the arena like a battle drum heralding an impending war. The squared circle transformed into a battleground as the two formidable women locked eyes, a silent promise of a contest for supremacy.
The initial exchange was nothing short of a kinetic dance of power. The air crackled with the percussive impact of each strike, the canvas beneath their feet vibrating with the intensity of their grapples. A symphony of physicality unfolded as Rhea and Charlotte engaged in a primal struggle, each movement calculated and deliberate.
However, the equilibrium quickly shifted. In the ebb and flow of the contest, Rhea's instincts sensed a disturbance in the carefully choreographed dance. Charlotte, the embodiment of cunning in the ring, began to weave a web of deception, seamlessly integrating underhanded tactics into the match. The crowd, initially roaring in anticipation, now stirred with a collective unease.
As the minutes unfolded, Charlotte's strategy became increasingly apparent. She exploited the blind spots of the referee, deftly bending the rules to her advantage. Rhea found herself ensnared in Charlotte's trap. The unexpected onslaught of dirty tricks caught her off guard, forcing her into a defensive position.
The crowd's cheers, once jubilant and full of anticipation, morphed into frustrated roars of disapproval. The spectators, invested in the purity of competition, were now witness to Charlotte's blatant cheating. Their collective discontent echoed through the arena, creating an atmosphere thick with tension and dissatisfaction.
Rhea, a bastion of resilience, fought to regain control amidst the storm of deception. Each underhanded maneuver from Charlotte only fueled her determination. The canvas bore witness to a clash not only of physical prowess but of wits as Rhea navigated the treacherous landscape of Charlotte's cunning, seeking a path to redemption within the confines of the wrestling ring.
Outside the ring, Damian and Dominik, attuned to the unfolding injustice, surged toward Rhea's aid, propelled by a shared sense of solidarity. Dominik vaulted onto the apron, urgently attempting to capture the referee's attention, his animated gestures a desperate plea for justice. However, as Jessika Carr turned her focus away, Charlotte seized the opportunity to strike.
In a swift and underhanded maneuver, Charlotte delivered a punishing punch to Rhea's face, the impact reverberating through the arena. The crowd gasped in collective dismay as the unsanctioned blow landed with ruthless precision.
The aftermath revealed the collateral damage of Charlotte's deceit. Rhea, reeling from the punch, felt the sharp edge of Charlotte's diamond-studded engagement ring cut into her cheek.
As blood began to trickle down Rhea's cheek, Jessika Carr, now aware of the foul play, erupted into a torrent of admonishments directed at Charlotte. However, the cunning competitor brazenly exhibited her right hand, adorned with perfectly manicured nails, feigning innocence and offering a disingenuous apology. The lies rolled off Charlotte's tongue as smoothly as her nails glistened, creating a stark tableau of deception in the wrestling ring's unforgiving drama.
Rhea, disoriented and reeling from the unexpected assault, stumbled backward, desperately seeking refuge beyond the ropes. She rolled out of the ring, the metallic tang of blood staining her fingers as she attempted to wipe away the evidence of Charlotte's underhanded tactics.
In the tumultuous aftermath, Damian rushed to her side, a pillar of support in the chaos. He gingerly assisted Rhea in wiping the blood from her face. Concern etched across his features. The ringside drama unfolded like a turbulent scene from a gripping drama, with Dominik and Finn adding to the chorus of dissent, their shouts cutting through the air like a rallying cry against injustice.
Their well-intentioned anger, however, was misconstrued by Jessika Carr. In a swift and decisive motion, she perceived their passionate pleas as a threat to the integrity of the match rather than the support they intended. The referee, with a solemn resolve, ejected Damian, Dominik, and Finn from the ringside.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck! FUCK! No!
A collective curse echoed through Rhea's mind. The expulsion of her allies left her with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. The expletive hung in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of the dire situation.
As Dominik attempted to argue their case, Rhea's gaze shifted to Charlotte, who, in stark contrast, wore a smirk of amusement. The amusement danced in her eyes, fueled by the satisfaction of orchestrating Rhea's isolation. The realization hit hard—Rhea was now alone, left to face her adversary without the support that had been abruptly ripped away.
In the charged silence that followed, the stage was set for a one-on-one showdown, with Rhea standing in the unforgiving spotlight, ready to confront the vindictive force of Charlotte. The arena, a canvas for athletic prowess and dramatic narratives, held its breath, bracing for the seismic clash between two formidable competitors—one stripped of her allies, the other revelling in the perceived triumph of isolation.
Chapter 42: The Hitman
Summary:
"Whoa, whoa, hold up. What's going on? Rhea's still out there," Stevie inquired, her curiosity evolving into concern.
Chapter Text
The backstage area, once a subdued undercurrent, now pulsated with the lingering vibrancy of the unfolding match in the distant arena. Stevie, nestled in a profound conversation with Kevin and Sami, meticulously unravelled the layers of the emotional exchange with Rhea. Each word she spoke carried the weight of the unfolding drama, the very fabric of their discussion woven with the threads of passion and vulnerability.
As they delved into the profound impact of Rhea's heartfelt admission, the atmosphere around them hung heavy with anticipation. The backstage ambiance became a theatre of emotions, a silent witness to the intricate dance between love and competition that defined the world of professional wrestling.
However, the tranquility was shattered by a sudden shift in the air, a ripple of tension signalling an abrupt transformation. The backstage ambiance crackled with an electric charge as Damian, Dominik, and Finn forcefully barged in. Their entrance was a tumultuous storm breaking through the tranquil night, anguish painted across their faces, a palpable manifestation of the explosive emotions that gripped them.
Fury radiated from the trio as they stormed past Stevie, their collective anger practically vibrating through the air. The backstage area, once a mere backdrop to conversations and preparations, now stood as a stage for the turbulent emotions that spilled forth from the ring. The collision of contrasting energies – the reflective discussion and the fiery arrival of Damian, Dominik, and Finn – created a dynamic tableau, a vivid snapshot of the emotional rollercoaster defining the backstage drama in professional wrestling.
"Whoa, whoa, hold up. What's going on? Rhea's still out there," Stevie inquired, her curiosity evolving into concern.
"Not now, little girl," Damian snapped angrily as he stormed back toward Judgment Day's dressing room. "We're not in the mood." The trio brushed past her without uttering a word. Concerned, Stevie quickened her pace, a sense of urgency propelling her to follow them into the tumultuous backstage corridors.
"What the hell happened?" Stevie demanded, her frustration escalating as she confronted the trio. "Aren't you guys supposed to be out there supporting Rhea?" The weight of Rhea's recent confession intensified Stevie's nervousness about Rhea's match, an emotional undertow tugging at her senses.
"We've been ejected from ringside," Finn grumbled, his irritation palpable. The words hung in the air, a stark revelation that fueled Stevie's growing concern for Rhea. The abrupt turn of events in the backstage drama mirrored the uncertainty that now gripped the unfolding narrative in the wrestling arena.
Stevie's eyes widened in disbelief. "Ejected? What do you mean, ejected? Where's Rhea?"
"She's alone out there," Dominik added, his voice heavy with regret. The weight of the words hung in the air, carrying an unspoken acknowledgment of the dire circumstances unfolding in the wrestling ring.
Stevie's heart sank. Alone. Rhea confronts the formidable Charlotte Flair without the support of her allies. The gravity of the situation hit Stevie like a sledgehammer, the realization of Rhea's isolation reverberating through the backstage area. The dramatic turn of events added a layer of urgency to Stevie's mounting concern, propelling her toward a decisive moment in the unfolding narrative of their intertwined destinies.
In a swift, determined move, Stevie broke away, navigating through the backstage labyrinth to reach the TV monitor. The images flickering on the screen captured the unfolding drama in the ring, each frame a snapshot of the intense struggle between Rhea and Charlotte. As Stevie's eyes fixated on the screen, they narrowed with intensity, scrutinizing the details of the match. Every nuance, every twist in the narrative, became a crucial piece in the puzzle she was about to unravel.
A subtle glint on Charlotte's finger caught Stevie's attention, the telltale sign of her diamond engagement ring flashing like a warning beacon amidst the dazzling lights of the backstage area. In that singular moment, Stevie felt the fire of rage kindling in the pit of her stomach, an inferno stoked by the realization that Charlotte, once again, was resorting to cheating.
"Shit," Stevie muttered under her breath, the expletive carrying the weight of her frustration and anger like a resounding echo in the backstage corridors. The usually bustling realm of preparation and anticipation transformed into a charged atmosphere, crackling with an intensity that mirrored Stevie's unwavering resolve. The desire to ensure a fair fight for Rhea ignited within her, turning backstage into a staging ground for Stevie's impending intervention in the unforgiving spotlight of the wrestling arena.
As Stevie geared up to storm toward the stage, a determined force fueled by anger propelling her forward, Kevin interjected. He stepped firmly into her path, a barrier of reason in the face of her escalating emotions. "You can't go out there like this," he declared, shaking his head, attempting to rein in Stevie's fiery determination.
"Kevin," Stevie shot him a warning look, her anger casting a red hue over her vision. “Move.”
Kevin, however, smirked knowingly, recognizing the unyielding determination in Stevie's eyes. "Easy now, bucko. You need this." He raised his arm, revealing a kendo stick in his grasp. The cool touch of the weapon heightened the gravity of the moment. With a nod of approval, he handed it to Stevie, acknowledging the significance of the situation. "Go save your damsel in distress, Prince Charming," he urged, the acceptance of Rhea evident in his eyes. Sami echoed the sentiment with a supportive nod, reinforcing the unspoken bond that had formed in the crucible of their shared experiences in the wrestling world.
Stevie's jaw clenched with determination as she took the kendo stick, the weapon's weight in her grip amplifying the gravity of the impending confrontation. Without uttering a word, a silent understanding passed between her and the supportive duo of Kevin and Sami. In a burst of controlled fury, she sprinted toward the stage, the rhythmic beat of her footsteps echoing the determined pulse in her veins.
Fueled by a potent mix of anger, loyalty, and an unwavering resolve to stand by Rhea's side, Stevie surged forward. The backstage chaos blurred into the periphery as she honed in on her singular purpose. The shadows of betrayal cast by Charlotte's deceit would soon find their match in Stevie's unyielding pursuit of justice.
"To be clear, I was saying you look like a man!" Kevin's voice rang out, his joking tone cutting through the tense air, even in the face of anger.
Stevie, without breaking her stride, gave Kevin the finger, a defiant smile playing on her lips as she headed through the stage door. The exchange, a seamless blend of banter and determination, underscored the camaraderie that transcended the backstage drama. Stevie, armed with the kendo stick and fueled by a potent mix of emotions, embarked on a collision course with the unfolding chaos in the arena, ready to confront the shadows that threatened Rhea's spotlight. The resonance of her footsteps echoed the drumbeat of impending justice in the wrestling arena, a testament to the unyielding spirit that drove Stevie forward.
Chapter 43: We Are the Champions
Summary:
“You think you are good enough to stand to me?” Charlotte asked as she pulled Rhea up by her hair, Smiling at the damage she had done to Rhea’s face.
Chapter Text
Pain.
All Rhea could really think about was pain.
Pain, a relentless spectre that wove its tendrils through the fabric of Rhea's consciousness. Charlotte's assault had turned her vision into an impressionistic blur, a fragmented canvas on which the struggle to reclaim clarity played out. The canvas itself, the unforgiving canvas of the SummerSlam ring, became an accomplice to the brutality, each throw by Charlotte leaving an indelible mark, a painful stroke etched upon Rhea's body.
“You think you are good enough to stand to me?” Charlotte asked as she pulled Rhea up by her hair, Smiling at the damage she had done to Rhea’s face.
The SummerSlam arena, once a symphony of jubilant cheers and electric anticipation, now resonated with the discordant notes of a battlefield. The crowd's cheers, once a cacophony of support, had morphed into distant echoes, drowned out by the relentless drumming in Rhea's head.
On Rhea's face, the cuts, vivid and raw, told a story of Charlotte's aggression, the burning pain a testament to the fiery clash of wills. Bruises on her skin, a living tapestry of agony, throbbed in rhythmic protest. The ropes, her lifeline in this turbulent sea of adversity, offered a precarious refuge as she clung to them, pulling herself back into the vortex.
A smirk adorned Charlotte's face, a fleeting mask of victory concealing the toll of the battle. With a snide remark, she pierced through the air, her words a verbal jab mirroring the physical blows. "I guess you are as stupid as they say," she jeered, the taunt hanging in the charged atmosphere.
Yet, Rhea's response was not one of surrender but a primal growl and teeth clenching. Bruised but unbroken, she defied the expectation of defeat. With fists raised again, she stood in defiance, a symbol of resilience against the narrative of weakness.
In the throes of conflict, Rhea lunged at Charlotte once more, a creature of determination in the face of adversity. Her movements, despite the pain that coursed through her, were a dance of defiance. The Queen's laughter, a mocking melody, echoed through the air, but Rhea, a symphony of unyielding will, played on.
With each strike, Rhea sought to redefine the narrative. The canvas of the ring, once a witness to suffering, became a stage for the drama of her resilience. She painted her own story with the brushstrokes of determination, hoping against hope that her unyielding spirit would turn the tide against the Queen. In pain and chaos, Rhea fought, a beacon of relentless willpower, daring to believe that she could rewrite the script and emerge victorious against impossible odds.
Rhea, propelled by an indomitable spirit, lunged forward with a tenacity that defied surrender. Yet, in the heart of the ring, the clash with Charlotte unfolded like a cruel ballet. Charlotte, equally unyielding, intercepted Rhea, seizing her with a force that disrupted her advance and propelled her towards the unforgiving ropes.
The collision with the ropes set off a chaotic chain of events. Rhea, caught in the relentless current of momentum, careened into Jessika's Carr, the collision with the referee serving as an unintended anchor that spared her from being tossed over the ropes and into the unforgiving ground below.
However, fate proved less benevolent to Jessika. The unplanned encounter sent her reeling backward, her body spilling over the ropes in a descent that echoed like a ton of bricks crashing to the ground. A jarring twist of her ankle, caught at an awkward angle, elicited a cry of pain reverberating through the arena. Clutching her injured ankle, Jessika lay on the ground, starkly contrasting the chaos unfolding in the ring.
Stunned by the unforeseen turn of events, Rhea's focus shifted from her fight with Charlotte to the unintended collateral damage. The realization struck that Charlotte's tactics had transcended mere cheating; they bordered on sadistic. In the heat of the moment, Rhea had momentarily forgotten about Jessika, the referee unwittingly drawn into the turmoil.
Amid the disarray, Rhea's gaze locked onto Charlotte's wicked grin, a visual manifestation of being trapped in the Queen's strategic machinations once again. The arena held its collective breath, witnessing the unfolding drama with a mixture of horror and suspense.
Despite the setback, Rhea refused to succumb to despair. With determination etched across her face, she propelled herself back into the fray, pushing against Charlotte. The crowd, now gripped by a sense of foreboding, watched in both horror and anticipation, waiting to see if Rhea could wrest control back from the clutches of the sadistic chess master in the ring.
"Now, not even the ref can stop me," Charlotte jeered, a sneer colouring her tone as Rhea lunged toward her, only to have her attack deftly intercepted by a well-placed kick.
Rhea momentarily halted in her advance and struggled to regain her composure. Before she could react, Charlotte pressed on with ruthless efficiency, delivering a punishing kick to Rhea's gut. The force of the impact left Rhea doubled over, gasping for breath as she grappled with the searing pain, attempting to rally despite the relentless onslaught.
Until this point, Charlotte had seemingly restrained her full potential, savouring each moment of Rhea's suffering like a sadistic connoisseur. However, a shift in Charlotte's demeanour hinted at a change in strategy. The facade of amusement fell away, replaced by a cold determination. It was evident that Charlotte, tired of toying with her opponent, now intended to seize the opportunity to deliver a decisive blow.
A smirk adorned Charlotte's face as she executed a swift move, expertly kicking Rhea's legs out from under her. The thud of Rhea hitting the mat echoed through the arena, the impact resonating with the collective gasps of the audience. Yet, the physical pain was not the only weapon in Charlotte's arsenal.
As Rhea lay vulnerable on the mat, Charlotte, revelling in her perceived dominance, taunted her with a venomous comment that cut deeper than any physical blow. "I heard about you and Stevie," she sneered, her smug smirk widening with malice. With a deliberate pause, she pressed her foot onto Rhea's knee, adding an extra layer of cruelty. "I guess that rivalry of yours wasn't strong enough to stop you from opening your legs. But we all know you have difficulty keeping them closed anyways."
The arena, once filled with the roar of anticipation, now hung in a charged silence. The personal attack, laced with insidious intent, lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the unfolding match. Charlotte, having exposed a vulnerability beyond the physical, revelled in the psychological torment she had unleashed upon her rival.
The searing pain surged through Rhea's leg, an electric shock that caused her teeth to clench, and her entire body quivered with the effort of suppressing a scream of agony. Through gritted teeth, she managed to spit out a defiant "screw you" as Charlotte loomed closer, her boot firmly planted on Rhea's injured knee.
Charlotte, seemingly impervious to Rhea's suffering, merely smirked, a condescending chuckle escaping her lips before she cruelly stomped down again. "You're pathetic, Rhea," she taunted, relishing in the psychological torment as much as the physical.
With a disdainful swagger, Charlotte sauntered back to the ropes, descending to the ringside area. The raucous cheers of the crowd intensified, the brutality of the unfolding spectacle stirring their enthusiasm even more. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Charlotte retrieved a steel chair from beneath the ring, elevating the brutality of the confrontation to a new level.
Helpless and battered, Rhea lay prone on the mat, her body ablaze with pain, feeling like it was on the verge of detonation. She braced herself for the impending onslaught as Charlotte raised the chair menacingly above her head. The crowd, caught in the grip of the unfolding chaos, grew louder, their collective energy feeding the brutality of the moment.
“I’m going enjoy watching the medics scrap you off the canvas,” Charlotte said, looking down at Rhea.
As the chair hovered threateningly, Rhea, eyes tightly shut, mentally prepared herself for the impending strike. She couldn't endure this punishment much longer, but a steely resolve masked her vulnerability. In the face of impending doom, Rhea refused to reveal the toll this relentless onslaught was exacting on her. The arena held its breath, suspended in the tense juncture between agony and impending catastrophe.
Abruptly, the familiar chords of Stevie's entrance music cut through the chaos like a sharp blade slicing through the air. The electrifying sound injected a sudden burst of energy into the tumultuous scene, causing a collective gasp from the audience. Stevie, wielding a kendo stick with fierce determination, charged toward the ring with purpose, her every step echoing with a promise of intervention. The atmosphere in the arena crackled with anticipation as the unexpected twist unfolded before the spectators' eyes.
For Rhea, caught in the throes of a brutal assault, the sudden entrance of the woman she loved served as a double-edged revelation. The clash of emotions surged within her — the relief and joy of seeing Stevie rushing to her aid and the sheer satisfaction of witnessing the unanticipated shock on Charlotte's face.
As Stevie's music reverberated through the arena, the crowd erupted in a crescendo of cheers. Rhea, still prone on the mat, opened her eyes just in time to witness Stevie's determined approach with the kendo stick in hand. A transformation overcame Rhea's expression, evolving from fear to a delighted smile. A chuckle escaped her lips, breathless laughter fueled by the rush of adrenaline and endorphins coursing through her blood from the pain endured.
"You're so fucked," Rhea exclaimed with a mix of amusement and triumph. The pendulum of advantage had swung, and the anticipation in the air shifted as the audience braced for the collision of forces between Stevie and Charlotte, a new chapter unfolding in the tumultuous drama within the squared circle.
Charlotte stood frozen, a portrait of shock painted across her features, clearly unprepared for any interference, especially from someone like Stevie. As her gaze shifted back to Rhea, the emotions etched on her face ranged from rage to disgust, with a subtle undercurrent of fear.
In stark contrast, Stevie's approach mirrored the night she had knocked someone out with a single punch, an unyielding blend of determination and rage burning in her eyes. As she slid into the ring, kendo stick in hand, and a primal growl of anger escaped her, setting the stage for a confrontation that would redefine the dynamics of the match.
The first blow from Stevie's kendo stick struck Charlotte with a resounding impact, causing her back to arch in agony. However, Stevie wasn't done. The kendo stick became a relentless instrument of retribution as she swung it repeatedly, reducing it to nothing but splinters in her hands. With unwavering resolve, Stevie seized Charlotte, effortlessly lifting and dumping her over the ropes to join Jessika on the unforgiving floor below.
With the immediate threat neutralized, Stevie shifted her attention to Rhea. Rushing over, she extended a helping hand, genuine concern evident in her voice. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Stevie's words were a soothing balm, a testament to the depth of her care as she fussed over Rhea, her actions echoing a protective instinct that went beyond the confines of the ring.
Rhea's face illuminated with radiant joy as Stevie extended her support, helping her and offering a tender fuss. "I'm fine, I'm fine," Rhea reassured, the heaviness of her breaths betraying the lingering toll of Charlotte's relentless assault. Despite the physical strain, the relief of being in Stevie's comforting embrace overshadowed the persistent pain. Leaning into Stevie's touch, she couldn't help but surrender to the solace it brought.
With a profound sense of gratitude and an overwhelming rush of emotions, Rhea pulled Stevie into a tight hug. Stevie's scent, the warmth of her body, served as a soothing balm, momentarily numbing the pain and offering a respite for Rhea's weary mind. In the cocoon of that embrace, she whispered, "I'm so happy to hold you again."
“I love you,” Stevie reciprocated the sentiment, declaring her love as they clung to each other. "I love you so much," Stevie affirmed.
Rhea, caught in the emotional embrace, mumbled in response, "I love you more." In those moments, Stevie was not just a partner; she was everything. Rhea couldn't fathom a life without her.
As Rhea held Stevie close, the depth of her feelings spilled over. "I'm so lucky to have you," she confessed, the words carrying a weight that transcended the night's events. The gratitude extended beyond this singular moment, echoing a profound appreciation for the consistent support and salvation Stevie had provided in times of need. "I don't know what I would do if you weren't here," Rhea admitted, her words reaching far beyond the immediate relief, underscoring the irreplaceable role Stevie played in the tapestry of her life.
"Now," Stevie gently pulled back from the hug, her hand cupping Rhea's cheek, "you're going to finish this match, you're going to win that belt, and we're going back to the hotel and get you into a tub. That sounds good?" Stevie's inquiry carried a hint of flirtatious playfulness, injecting a lightness into the moment.
Rhea chuckled in response, nodding with a grin. "Sounds pretty damn good," she replied, her anticipation evident as she looked forward to the prospect of relaxation and a cleansing soak. "First things first, though, princess," she added, diverting her attention back to the ongoing match, her competitive spirit undiminished. "Let's kick Charlotte's ass and take home the win." With a determined crack of her knuckles, Rhea readied herself to conclude what she had started.
Stevie, ever the supportive partner, offered a plan. "I'll get Jessika if you get Charlotte?" she suggested.
"Sounds like a plan to me," Rhea affirmed, preparing to confront her opponent again.
Before Rhea could make her move, Stevie caught her hand, pulling her into a passionate kiss. The crowd erupted in surprise and applause as the two rivals revealed the truth of their relationship. As Stevie pulled away from the kiss, a warm smile graced her lips. "Make her regret every word," she encouraged.
Rhea returned the smile, a silent affirmation of determination. Nodding in agreement, she turned to face the unfolding match, fueled by a newfound resolve to not only conquer her opponent but to do so with a conviction that echoed the depth of her connection with Stevie. The revelation had added an extra layer of motivation, and Rhea was ready to prove that their love was a force to be reckoned with, both in and out of the ring.
As the two went to get the match going again, Rhea moved with purpose, heading outside the ring to bring Charlotte back into the fray. Meanwhile, Stevie, ever considerate, gingerly assisted Jessika Carr to her feet.
"Oh girl, they need to give you a pay raise. We put you through the wringer," Stevie remarked with a chuckle, injecting a touch of humour into the situation. Jessika chuckled in response, testing the weight on her ankle with a cautious grin. "You good to keep going, or do you need me to run and get another official?" Stevie inquired, genuine concern evident in her tone.
"No, I'm fine," Jessika reassured.
Stevie responded with a supportive pat on the back. "Then let's get this match back on track," Stevie declared, a charismatic smile gracing her face as she turned to the crowd. With infectious enthusiasm, she rallied the audience, hyping them up to support Rhea in the impending showdown.
The energy in the arena surged, the crowd responding to Stevie's charismatic encouragement. As Rhea dragged Charlotte back into the ring and Jessika readied herself for the continued officiating, Stevie's presence not only reinforced the bond between the competitors but also invigorated the entire spectacle. The match, momentarily interrupted by the unexpected twists, was poised to resume with a renewed fervour, fueled by the collective excitement of the crowd and the unwavering support of those standing at the center of the action.
As Rhea exerted her strength to pull Charlotte back into the ring, Charlotte, undeterred, shoved Rhea away with a defiant smirk. She stood tall, fists raised, ready to assert her dominance once more. "That was cute and all. But I'm the queen! I will not be disrespected by two stupid, irrelevant no ones who think they are Romeo and Juliet. How dare—"
"Shut the fuck up and fight already!" Stevie's voice cut through the air from ringside, a laugh escaping her lips as she watched Charlotte's face contorted with rage.
"You heard her," Rhea said, a smile playing on her lips as she lunged at Charlotte.
Despite the exhaustion and battering both women had endured, the match retained its brutal intensity—kicks, punches, grappling, a relentless back-and-forth. Stevie, steadfast in Rhea's corner, became a vocal source of motivation, her cheers and shouted words of encouragement reverberating through the arena. The crowd, in turn, fed off Stevie's infectious energy, creating a dynamic loop of support.
Rhea, fueled by the collective energy of the crowd and Stevie's unwavering encouragement, seized the moment. She grabbed Charlotte, pulling her up with a surge of power, and unleashed a formidable riptide, slamming Charlotte into the mat with a roar of effort. Without a moment's hesitation, Rhea went for the pin, the culmination of her relentless effort and the unyielding support from Stevie and the audience, converging into this pivotal moment of the match.
Jessika, the official, swiftly slid into position, her hand repeatedly slamming onto the mat. The resounding thuds echoed through the arena, each impact marking a crucial count in the intense pinning attempt. The crowd held its collective breath, the suspense building as the match hung in the balance, the rhythmic cadence of Jessika's count heightening the anticipation.
1…
2…
3…
The piercing sound of the bell reverberated through the arena, signalling the match's conclusion, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar of approval. Cheers cascaded like a tidal wave crashing against the ring, and pyrotechnics illuminated the scene with bursts of light. Rhea's triumphant music blared through the speakers, amplifying the celebratory atmosphere.
Stevie, caught in the euphoria, shouted and jumped around at ringside, swept up in the ecstatic energy of the moment—Samantha's voice announcing Rhea as the new champion added to the cacophony.
But amid the clamour, Rhea remained wrapped in a world of her own. She couldn't hear the shouting, the crowd's frenzied cheers, or even the announcement of her championship win. The overwhelming sensation was drowned out by the singular sound of her own heartbeat. In that moment of quiet introspection, Rhea slowly lifted her gaze, absorbing the gravity of the triumph, the weight of the championship settling on her shoulders like a crown of accomplishment. The world outside dimmed, and in the echo of her heartbeat, Rhea embraced the profound reality of her victory, a moment frozen in time amidst the chaos of celebration.
You won.
You won.
Stevie joyously ascended into the ring, leaping onto Rhea in an exuberant bear hug. Her hands trembled with emotion as she clung to Rhea, a beaming smile stretching across her face so intense that it bordered on pain. Laughing with unbridled happiness, Stevie's eyes sparkled with tears as she delicately placed a hand on Rhea's cheek.
Rhea, still enveloped in the surreal silence of her own world, could see Stevie mouthing words, but the jubilant cacophony of the celebration rendered them inaudible. Yet, the shape of Stevie's mouth and the fervour in her eyes conveyed a clear message. "You won, baby!" Stevie's words, though unheard, were written in the pure joy etched across her face, a silent proclamation of pride and overwhelming joy in the accomplishment of the woman she held tightly in her arms.
You won!
You won!
As the muffled sounds of the celebratory chaos gradually gave way to clarity, Rhea, with a heart still racing and adrenaline coursing through her veins, pulled Stevie back into another tight hug. The sensation of their embrace, coupled with the returning symphony of cheers and applause, created a surreal yet deeply gratifying moment. Rhea's hands, slightly numb from the intensity of the triumph, clung to Stevie, grounding her in the reality of the victory they shared. In the warmth of the hug, the overwhelming emotion of the moment lingered a tangible connection that transcended the auditory realm.
YOU WON!
Chapter 44: You And I
Summary:
"So, you care about her, huh?" Damian inquired, his tone a delicate balance between curiosity and the beginnings of understanding.
Chapter Text
As the intoxicating rush of adrenaline gradually receded, the haunting spectre of pain made its relentless return. The euphoric veil that momentarily shielded Rhea Ripley from the harsh reality of her physical exertion began to lift, revealing the cruel aftermath of the gruelling contest.
The canvas of her skin bore witness to the brutal ballet of combat – cuts and scratches etched across her visage like battle scars, her knee a canvas painted with the chaotic hues of struggle. Each bruise, every lingering ache, previously subdued by the transient euphoria of triumph, now resurged with a vindictive determination as if the very essence of the battle sought to reclaim its dominion over her wearied frame. The throbbing intensity of the rekindled pain painted a vivid portrait of the toll taken in the relentless pursuit of victory, underscoring the visceral price paid in combat.
"Are you feeling it?" Stevie inquired, her eyes fixed on Rhea. The vibrant smile that had adorned Rhea's face began to morph, gradually contorting into a more strained expression as she persistently clutched the championship belt. Stevie, attuned to the subtle nuances of Rhea’s demeanour, observed the evolving facade, recognizing the growing tension in the forced smile that betrayed the underlying discomfort.
With teeth clenched in silent resolve, Rhea offered a subdued nod, a stoic acknowledgment that sought to conceal the depths of the pain coursing through her. Each tightly held consonant, each nuanced gesture, bespoke a valiant effort to mask the extent of her discomfort, a testament to the warrior spirit within her that persevered even in the face of physical tribulation.
In a graceful response to Rhea's silent struggle, Stevie, her senses finely tuned to her partner's well-being, assumed control with unwavering determination. In a seamless blend of tenderness and strength, Stevie gathered Rhea into her arms, lifting her with regal ease as if orchestrating a poignant ballet, the embodiment of both support and resilience. The princess carry, a manifestation of Stevie's caring prowess, cradled Rhea in a moment where vulnerability met the unyielding embrace of camaraderie.
"Stevie!" Rhea gasped, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and gratitude as she peered at Stevie. A shocked smile graced Rhea's face, a realization that transcended the pain. "I'm supposed to look tough," she protested, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes amidst the fatigue. The unexpected tenderness from Stevie unravelling the tough exterior Rhea wore in the ring revealing the vulnerability beneath the warrior's facade.
"You just won the championship. We all know you're tough," Stevie reassured her voice a soothing cadence that echoed both admiration and pride. Cradling Rhea securely in her arms, Stevie embarked on a deliberate stride, guiding them away from the ring and toward the backstage realm. The transition from the fiery arena to the quiet corridors unfolded, marking the journey of a champion, held not only by the weight of the title but also by the unwavering support of a caring comrade.
As they traversed the backstage corridors, the realm behind the grand spectacle, a convergence of both Outright and Judgment Day, unfolded. Stevie, with a practiced gentleness, lowered Rhea to the ground, a transition from the princess carry to solid footing. Yet, the supportive embrace persisted as Stevie kept a caring arm around Rhea's waist, a steadfast pillar of support. The surrounding wrestlers, a tapestry of camaraderie and competition, gathered to acknowledge the newly crowned champion, a testament to the shared journey within the wrestling fraternity.
"You did it!" exclaimed Finn, his voice resonating with genuine joy as he extended his congratulations. Dominik, standing in solidarity, joined in, offering his heartfelt acknowledgment to Rhea for securing the coveted championship belt. The congratulatory chorus, an ensemble of cheers and affirmations, enveloped Rhea in a collective celebration, marking the culmination of her arduous journey in the wrestling arena.
Damian, typically a figure of reserved demeanour, remained silent amidst the chorus of congratulatory voices. His gaze, however, fixated on Stevie, carrying a nuanced amalgamation of curiosity and cautious acknowledgment. Breaking the silence, he voiced his contemplation, the question taking both intrigue and a subtle undercurrent of acceptance.
"So, you care about her, huh?" Damian inquired, his tone a delicate balance between curiosity and the beginnings of understanding. The query, a rare glimpse into the enigmatic leader's thoughts, hung in the air, inviting a response that would unveil the layers beneath the stoic exterior.
Stevie, unwavering in her commitment, locked eyes with Damian, her response a resolute affirmation that resonated through the air. "I do. Rhea means everything to me," she declared with steadfast sincerity. There was an unspoken resolve in Stevie's gaze, a testament to the profound connection she shared with Rhea. Her hand remained firmly on Rhea's waist, a tangible gesture of the support and devotion that transcended the confines of the wrestling ring. In that moment of declaration, Stevie stood tall, a pillar of unwavering dedication and the embodiment of a bond that surpassed the boundaries of competition.
Damian, a picture of stoic contemplation, appeared to digest the revelation that unfolded before him. After a measured pause, he nodded, a subtle acknowledgment of the gravity of Stevie's sentiments. "Alright then. I guess I've got to get used to you being around," he conceded, his tone carrying an undertone of acceptance as he navigated the unfamiliar terrain of acknowledging Stevie's role in Rhea's life. The unspoken understanding, uncharted territory for Damian, hinted at a tentative bridge being built between the worlds of competition and personal relationships within the wrestling fraternity.
Stevie's smile widened, an expression of genuine joy and gratitude, as she reciprocated Damian's nod. The acceptance conveyed in that silent exchange carried a profound significance, a bridge built between worlds that often held their own rules and boundaries. In that shared nod, there was a glimmer of understanding and a tentative embrace of a new chapter where personal connections were found amid the intensity of professional wrestling.
"I hate to be a buzzkill, but I really need to get out of this gear," Rhea said, a note of practicality breaking through the celebratory atmosphere. She gestured toward the women's locker room, indicating the necessity of a swift transition from the triumphant battlefield attire to more comfortable repose. The mundane reality of the post-match ritual punctuated the jubilant air, grounding the celebration in the pragmatic needs of a professional wrestler.
"Sure, I'll give you a hand," Stevie offered her readiness to assist evident as she moved to support Rhea on their way to the women's locker room. The camaraderie between the two, seamlessly transitioning from the intensity of the ring to the more intimate setting of the backstage, underscored the depth of their connection beyond the spotlight of professional wrestling.
"Wait..." Dominik interjected, a flicker of realization crossing his features. Then, an expression of mild disgust contorted his face. "Stevie's the chick," he exclaimed as if the revelation brought a sudden clarity that was met with a mixture of surprise and, perhaps, a touch of humour.
Rhea blushed, memories of the near encounter with Dominik flooding back. Stevie, catching on to Rhea's embarrassment, burst into laughter. The sight of Rhea's flushed cheeks and Dominik's theatrical gag reflex seemed to amuse Stevie even more. "Rhea! We sit there!" Dominik exclaimed. Stevie started laughing harder, her laughter punctuating the reminder of that close call, transforming an otherwise awkward moment into a shared joke among the trio.
"What?" Damian queried, his expression mirroring the confusion evident on Rhea and Dominik's faces. Finn, too, wore a puzzled expression, the trio collectively sharing a moment of bewilderment in response to Stevie's outburst and the ensuing laughter.
"Stevie and Rhea were..." Dominik began, his expression taking on a mischievous quality as he implied a level of intimacy between Stevie and Rhea “in the dressing room.” The unspoken suggestion hung in the air, prompting a mix of surprise and amusement from those in the conversation. The revelation, albeit delivered with a touch of playful exaggeration, added an unexpected layer of intrigue to the backstage banter.
"Ugh!" Dominik and Finn groaned in unison, rolling their eyes in response to Dominik's revelation. "Rhea, that's messed up," Dominik chided, a tone of playful reproach laced with a hint of humour. The camaraderie among the wrestlers, now woven with a thread of shared jest, continued to unfold in the backstage setting.
Laughter erupted from Kevin and Sami, their amusement evident in hearty bursts. Cody, shaking his head with a wry smile, brought a hand to the bridge of his nose in an exaggerated display of mock exasperation. The backstage scene, now a tableau of shared amusement and banter, unfolded in the aftermath of Dominik's revelation, weaving a tapestry of camaraderie among the wrestlers.
"Please tell me she wasn't in our dressing room," Cody sighed his tone a blend of disbelief and mild concern that they had also had sex in the Outright Dressing room. The prospect of unexpected visitors, especially of an intimate nature, weighed on Cody's patience, adding a touch of theatrical exasperation to the backstage banter.
"We've been all over," Stevie explained with a laugh, a subtle blush adding a touch of playfulness to her demeanour. The admission, offered with a mix of amusement and candour, hinted at the dynamic and adventurous nature of Stevie and Rhea's relationship, further fueling the backstage banter among the wrestlers.
"Stevie," Cody sighed, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and amusement. The collective laughter of Stevie, Kevin, and Sami echoed, the backstage banter evolving into a shared moment of camaraderie punctuated by playful ribbing.
Chapter 45: Somebody to Love
Summary:
"How's that, love? Still stinging?" Stevie inquired, her concern evident in the gentle cadence of her voice.
Chapter Text
Within the locker room, the feeble glow emitted by the overhead lights painted the space in a muted ambiance. The dimness, ever-present, cast shadows that danced across the walls, creating an intimate and hushed setting for Stevie and Rhea. The air carried the distinct aroma of antiseptic, a clinical scent intermingling with the lingering traces of the hard-fought battles waged in the ring. The atmosphere, heavy with the residue of sweat-soaked victories and resilient efforts, encapsulated the essence of their shared wrestling journey.
Stevie, displaying her unwavering attentiveness to Rhea's well-being, delicately attended to one of the fresh cuts on Rhea's face. The gentle application of an alcohol wipe brought with it a faint sting, prompting a reflexive flinch from Rhea. Despite the momentary discomfort, Rhea maintained her poise, a testament to the resilience ingrained in every wrestler. The seating arrangement, a familiar feature of the locker room's landscape, provided a stable foundation for the impromptu first aid session.
The first aid kit, a trusted companion in their wrestling odyssey, lay open on a nearby surface. Its contents, arranged with meticulous precision, offered various tools and supplies ready for use. The orderly alignment of bandages and the reassuring presence of medical aids formed a tableau of preparedness, embodying the resilience and preparedness demanded by the world of professional wrestling.
"How's that, love? Still stinging?" Stevie inquired, her concern evident in the gentle cadence of her voice.
“No, it’s not too bad,” Rhea says with a soft smile. Looking at stevie like she was made of gold.
“After we’re done here, do you want to take a nice warm bath with me?” stevie asked with a flirtatious look.
“Mhm… thanks, sweetie…” Rhea said with a warm smile. "I'm sorry I'm making you do this," Rhea said softly, her fingers gently resting on Stevie's knee. "I promise I'm not usually this bad in matches."
"You're tough as nails, but even the toughest need a bit of patching up sometimes," Stevie remarked gently, her fingers moving with a blend of tenderness and purpose. The locker room, enveloped in the peaceful glow of ambient lights, witnessed this care exchange. Rhea, meeting Stevie's gaze, found herself unable to resist returning the affectionate smile. The serenity of the room, punctuated by the occasional sounds of their interaction, held an understated intimacy, a moment of connection amid the post-match routine.
"Thanks for always taking care of me," Rhea said, her voice a gentle murmur, a sentiment reserved solely for Stevie. "I appreciate it, Stevie." The quiet acknowledgment, spoken in the intimate atmosphere of the space, carried the weight of gratitude and the unspoken bond shared between them.
Stevie chuckled, the soft resonance of her laughter creating a melodic undercurrent in the tranquil locker room. "It's what girlfriends do, isn't it? Besides, it gives us a chance to have a quiet moment away from the chaos of the arena." Her words, laced with affection, lingered in the ambient stillness of the space, emphasizing the preciousness of their shared moments amid the clamour of their wrestling world.
As Stevie continued to work on the injuries, a comfortable silence settled between them, one of the silences they only felt comfortable enough having with one another. Rhea, reflecting on the events of the night, took a deep breath before breaking the quietude. "I love you, you know?" Rhea's declaration carried a weight of sincerity, a sentiment that transcended the physical toll of the match.
Stevie, pausing in her ministrations, looked up, meeting Rhea's eyes. "I love you too, Rhea," Stevie responded, her gaze reflecting the depth of her emotions. The simplicity of those words held a profound meaning, echoing in the stillness of the locker room.
With the first aid session nearing its end, Rhea took a moment to express another sentiment that had been on her mind. "I'm excited to get to know the rest of Outright," she admitted, a spark of anticipation brightening her eyes. "They seem like a great bunch."
“I think they’ll like you too once they get to know you.” Stevie smiled warmly, recognizing the significance of Rhea's words. "And I'm excited to get to know the rest of Judgment Day," she replied.
"I'm sure they'll warm up to each other too; it'll just take time," Rhea said, her optimism threading through the air as she assisted Stevie in stowing away the first aid kit. Standing up, a subdued groan of pain escaping her lips, Rhea navigated the discomfort in her sore muscles.
"Easy now," Stevie rose alongside her, offering her arm for Rhea's support if needed. “Don't push yourself.”
"I'm not a baby; I can do it myself," Rhea asserted, wincing as she began changing. Yet, Stevie intervened, her arms enveloping Rhea from behind, lips tantalizingly close to Rhea's neck.
"You could, but you don't have to now, baby," Stevie purred, her hands skillfully unbuckling Rhea's top.
"Princess," Rhea shuddered, feeling the warmth of Stevie's kisses along her neck, a dance of intimacy unfolding as Stevie continued helping her out of the wrestling gear.
As Stevie meticulously folded Rhea's recently shed wrestling attire, she softly declared, "When you’re changed, we're heading back to your hotel room."
Rhea, slipping on her t-shirt, arched a playful eyebrow and inquired, "Not yours? Is it crazy messy again?" Her gaze held a twinge of amusement as she shot Stevie a knowing look.
"Shh, shh, shh. Don't ruin this romantic moment by mentioning my disorganization," Stevie chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm trying to sound seductive." she carefully put Rhea’s gear away in her bag.
"Right, my bad," Rhea chuckled, turning to face Stevie and playfully pulling her closer by the hips. "Go on, try and seduce me." The locker room, with its ambient lighting, became a stage for their banter, a dance of humour and affection in the aftermath of the match.
Stevie chuckled, her hands gently finding their place on Rhea's shoulders. "When you're changed, we're heading back to your hotel room. We will take a nice, long, warm bath together."
"I'm definitely liking the beginning of this," Rhea said with a sly grin, leaning closer to Stevie. She began to plant kisses along Stevie's neck, her hands tracing a path from Stevie's hips to her waist.
"I'm going to wash your hair just how you like," Stevie continued, chuckling as Rhea shot her an impressed look.
"Wow, you are making me feel so special," Rhea mused against Stevie's skin.
"I can also give you a massage with that oil stuff that gets your skin all nice and soft."
"A massage? It must be my birthday today," Rhea teased, prompting a playful eye roll from Stevie.
"Rhea, you keep saying that. Do you even know when your birthday is?" Stevie laughed, earning a laugh from Rhea in return.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, who knows?" Rhea shrugged jokingly, adding a playful wink. “Come on, I'm all changed up. I want to get you back to my place so I can really show you how much I missed you.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice.” stevie said, grabbing Rhea’s bag for her, walking with Rhea's hand in hand out of the locker room.
The intricate tapestry of their acrimonious history, concealed beneath layers of festering resentment and palpable hostility, had been a closely guarded secret for many months. The enigmatic origins of their bitter feud perplexed those in their orbit, as the two young women seemed to harbour a hatred that defied comprehension.
Yet, in the unfolding narrative of their lives, the once-fiery rivalry underwent a profound metamorphosis. The intensity that had fueled their clashes transformed into an unexpected and inexplicable force: love. This transformation, once unimaginable, had given rise to a relationship that surpassed their initial expectations. It offered them a depth of connection and fulfillment that neither had ever anticipated needing.
The present moment found them navigating the complexities of this newfound love, their dynamic evolving into a partnership that enriched their lives in ways they could not have foreseen. The shifting sands of their relationship carried them beyond the realm of rivalry, unveiling a shared journey that promised growth, understanding, and a depth of connection that surpassed the boundaries of their past animosity.
Because If there was one person Rhea Ripley adored above all others, it was Stevie Turner.
Chapter 46: Bohemian Rhapsody - Epilogue
Summary:
Six years later...
Chapter Text
The soft glow of ambient lights welcomed Stevie as she stepped into the new house she now shared with Rhea. Kevin's playful jab at her punctuality drew a chuckle from Stevie, setting the tone for the evening.
"I’m sorry I was caught in traffic," Stevie explained, her apologetic tone laced with amusement. She carried a substantial bag of ice, a contribution to the housewarming festivities. Laughter and the rhythmic pulse of music embraced her as she went further into the house, a lively atmosphere already in full swing.
The living space buzzed with animated conversations and the clinking of glasses, a testament to the success of the housewarming party. Stevie, still searching for Rhea, cast a curious glance around the room. The walls echoed with the joyful symphony of friends gathered to celebrate this milestone.
Kevin and Damian, immersed in conversation, discussed the stories behind their tattoos. Damian's admiration for Kevin's T-rex skull tattoo showcased the camaraderie that flourished beyond the wrestling ring. As Kevin shared the ink's backstory, Stevie made her way through the room, nodding in acknowledgment as she passed.
"Dude, that dino tattoo is sick," Damian remarked, sipping his beer and appreciating the inked masterpiece on Kevin's arm.
"Right? Sami said it was childish," Kevin responded, glancing down at his arm with a hint of pride.
"Childish? No, it’s sick," Damian affirmed, offering a nod of approval. He greeted Stevie with a casual "sup’ little gir l?" - an affectionate nickname, a far cry from the days when such monikers held a different, more antagonistic weight.
"Not much, Pin Head ," Stevie quipped back, a playful exchange that now carried the warmth of friendship. "You seen Rhea?"
"Last time I saw her, she was in the kitchen," Damian informed her between sips of his beer, the conversation seamlessly blending into the lively ambiance of the party.
The low murmur of conversations formed a melodic backdrop to the lively atmosphere of the housewarming party. In a quieter corner, Finn and Cody delved into the intricacies of training regimens, a discussion that promised new challenges for Stevie and Rhea.
Their voices, laden with the weight of professional insight, painted a vivid picture of the ever-evolving world of wrestling. Plans and training schedules flowed between them, each idea contributing to anticipating the fresh challenges Cody would undoubtedly devise under Finn's influence.
"Well, I'm going to make them do more swimming," Finn announced, introducing a new facet to Judgment Day's training regime.
Cody, visibly impressed, acknowledged, "Ohh, because that would help their breath work. That’s a good idea."
"Absolutely," Finn concurred, a nod emphasizing the validity of his approach. "Swimming is fantastic for overall conditioning, and it works wonders for breath control. The resistance of the water engages multiple muscle groups, promoting strength and endurance without the impact stress of traditional exercises."
Intrigued, Cody raised an eyebrow, absorbing the insights. "So, it's like a full-body workout without putting too much strain on the joints?"
"Exactly," Finn affirmed with conviction. "Wrestling can be tough on the body, especially joints. Swimming is a low-impact exercise that enhances cardiovascular fitness, improves flexibility, and builds muscle strength simultaneously. Plus, it's a great way to enhance recovery."
As Stevie passed by, Cody playfully ruffled her hair, a gesture of camaraderie and affection that seamlessly blended into their ongoing conversation. The exchange captured the essence of a wrestling family, where knowledge and support flowed freely among friends and teammates.
Dominik and Sami stumbled onto the makeshift karaoke stage, fueled by the liberating influence of a few too many drinks. Laughter and camaraderie permeated the air as they embarked on a boisterous performance of "Somebody to Love." Their drunken rendition resonated through the room, a cacophony of off-key notes and uninhibited enthusiasm that added an element of joyous chaos to the housewarming party. Their voices collided in delightful disarray, producing a sound that strayed closer to enthusiastic shouting than any polished display of vocal prowess, making their karaoke session an unforgettable spectacle that had everyone in stitches.
Finally, Stevie made her way into the kitchen and found Rhea perched on the counter, leisurely sipping a beer. "What're you doing in here?" Stevie asked, grabbing a drink of her own and hopping up to join Rhea on the counter.
"I just needed a breather, you know? All the people, and when I tell you, I feel personally attacked by you telling Dominik we have a karaoke machine," Rhea chuckled, handing Stevie the bottle opener.
Stevie couldn't help but laugh at Rhea's joking disappointment. "I thought he would think it’s fun," Stevie shrugged. "And I knew Sami would get into it, so why not let everyone get in on the—"
"CAN ANY BODY FIND MEeEeeEEE!!!!???!?!" Sami and Dominik's enthusiastic screams into the microphones echoed through the house.
Stevie winced, and Rhea shot her a look. "That is exactly why we don’t let everyone get in on the fun," Rhea said, both erupting into laughter as they shared a moment of amusement amidst the lively chaos of the housewarming party.
"I love you," Stevie said softly, leaning to rest her head on Rhea’s shoulder.
“I love you too,” Rhea replied, pressing a tender kiss to the top of Stevie’s head.
“You ready to head back out there so we can actually host? Or do you want to keep sitting here? Because I’m down for both,” Stevie inquired.
“No, let’s go out there. I’m sure Cody will want to make some sort of toast,” Rhea suggested, eliciting a laugh from Stevie.
“I love you so much I can’t even explain it,” Stevie said with a chuckle.
Rhea slid off the counter, a warm smile gracing her lips. “Ok, you ready, princess?” she teased, extending her hand for Stevie to join her back in the lively atmosphere of the party.
“I’m always ready,” Stevie replied with a smirk, intertwining her fingers with Rhea’s as they walked back out to the main room, prepared to embrace the celebration.
Once they returned to the living room, Cody instantly declared, “I’d like to say a toast.”
Rhea shot Stevie a knowing look, mouthing the words, “I told you,” as Stevie couldn’t help but shake her head, stifling a laugh.
“Here’s to Rhea and Stevie and teams finding ways to get over rivalry for the sake of love,” Cody proclaimed, lifting his beer in salute. “Because, as I always say, you only really lose-”
“When you give up trying. We know!” echoed through the room, laughter mingling with clinking glasses and bottles. The toast, a symbolic celebration of overcoming challenges for love and camaraderie, resonated with everyone in attendance.
Slye_544 on Chapter 9 Tue 24 Oct 2023 12:50PM UTC
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