#kevin nash fan fic

[84reedsy]

A Friend Date

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7888

Characters: Kevin Nash, Scott Hall, FemOC (Brooklyn)

Pairings: Kevin Nash/FemOC; Scott Hall/FemOC (implied)

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Consensual Infidelity, semi-public sex

“For some reason, it's really important to Scott that we are friends and can get along,” Brooklyn had trouble saying the simplest of things to Kevin Nash without an attitude creeping into her tone.

“We can fake it in front of him. At least, I can,” Kevin crossed his arms, defiant to her olive branch. Just because Scott was smitten with her didn’t mean he had to be, for that reason alone he often resisted returning any kindness out of spite.

“You can barely look at me without sneering” she pointed at him, “See? You just did it,”

Kevin resisted rolling his eyes, which would only further her point. He wanted to wipe that smug smile from her face. That's probably the way she often felt when he was around. He couldn’t blame her but couldn’t be bothered to change his ways at this point.

“Fine. How the hell do we do a ‘friend date’?” He gave in though the words were full of disdain. Seeing Scott outside through the kitchen window reminded him quickly that would do anything for his long-time companion. Even if it was willinging subject himself to an evening with her.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I guess we go to dinner or movies or the beach or something.”

“I doubt we'd pick the same movie…” he said judgmentally, “no chick flicks,”

“Oh no of course not,” she said sarcastically, “because you're much too deep and introspective,”

“You know I was doing you a favor agreeing to this, but I'm thinking it's a bad idea now,” he opened a beer and started to walk towards the door to the patio. Even though she and Scott had met on the road, Kevin didn’t share the same camaraderie with her, he didn’t feel obligated to play an audience to her.

“God, I’m sorry,” she went after him grabbing his arm, “Please, for Scott if anything. Just dinner or whatever,”

“Fine, Tuesday, I'll pick you up around 7,” he agreed, sighing loudly.

“What should I wear?” She asked, wondering what shitty dive he'd drag her to.

“Something a little nice. Low cut, maybe they'll comp our meal and I'll get outta this pretty cheap,” Kevin surmised.

“There's that classy reputation I've heard so much about,” she rolled her eyes towards his back as she followed him out to the patio.

Kevin couldn't deny how happy she seemed to make Scott. The smile across his friend's face was genuine when she came out of the house and she went right to him, wrapping her arms around him as soon as she reached him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been greeted like that. To say it made him bitter wouldn't be a lie, but more than anything, it made him envious.

She was too young for Scott, he reminded himself. 20 years his junior was too young to take anyone seriously. They were barely dating before Scott moved her into his house. Kevin had his reasons to be mistrustful.

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

“He agreed to it, by the way,” Brooklyn said as she got ready for bed, Scott emerging from the bathroom in a towel. She grinned at him with his black hair loose around his face and shoulders. Ever since she mentioned that she liked it down, he had been wearing it that way a lot more.

“Agreed to what?” He asked, confused at first, “Oh, going out together?”

Brooklyn could hear a subdued excitement in his voice. She knew Scott cared about her, but she knew how much Kevin meant to him, too. She never knew why Kevin never warmed up to her while they toured the pro-wrestling circuit together. She was nothing but nice to him then, but the closer she got to Scott, the more standoffish Kevin became. Sure, she could understand some jealousy, but these were full-grown, middle aged men; she expected more maturity out of them.

“Yes, we're going to dinner Tuesday,” she watched Scott like a hawk in his towel, any chance she had to see his body she took without apology. His physical presence made anything else on her mind seem to disappear.

He dropped the towel and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs, but chuckled when he saw the look of disappointment on Brooklyn’s face.

“What? You get to wear that little number to bed, but I gotta be naked?” He scoffed a little as she crawled up on the bed and kneeled at the edge of it.

Brooklyn looked down at the silky teddy he'd just bought for her.

“But it won't stay on long…” she reasoned, “I just wanted you to see it on me since it was a present.”

“Well aren't you just a good little girl,” he stalked toward her.

She found herself grateful that he'd put on those boxer briefs, they presented his bulge so well that it made her mouth water.

“How the hell is Kev supposed to keep his hands off of you when you look this good,” he licked his lips looking at her.

“Don't worry….Daddy…he won't see me like this,” she mewled at him.

Scott growled audibly at her, he still was extremely aroused by the new name she used for him. He was already half-mast, but he felt the surge of rigidity. Grabbing a handful of satin, he pulled her to him.

“God for a good girl you're so naughty…”

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

Tuesday

“What about this?” Brooklyn checked her angles in the mirror as she tried on yet another outfit. Scott watched amused, comfy in sweats and a t-shirt.

“It's cute, I've always liked that dress on you…” he thought about how often he had trouble keeping his hands to himself if she was in any kind of skirt. He knew Kevin well enough to know he had the same problem, “What about that red one?”

“The red one?? Scott, that's like skin tight and all lace,” she looked at him incredulously, “It's basically lingerie.”

“He might find it harder to be mean to you if you look like a fucking sex goddess,” Scott reasoned.

“Well that would make sense if I was trying to fuck him,” Brooklyn rolled her eyes but disappeared back into the closet.

She paired it with a skintight white slip dress underneath the sheer red lace. She wound half her hair up and secured it with an onyx zanzi and dug out white heels. They would give her a couple inches, but Scott (and Kev) would still tower over her.

Scott whistled a low, long tone when she walked out of the closet. She spun for him before going to the mirror again. She could tug at the bottom hem all she wanted, it wasn't going down any further.

“Look at your ass in that,” Scott hummed a hungry vibration in his chest, “put a bow on that and call it a gift to mankind,”

“Stooop,” she blushed, but didn't really mean it. She looked at the low scooped neckline that packaged her breasts as well as her backside. She thought of what Kevin said about earning a free meal…this certainly could do the job with the right waiter.

“I wouldn't blame him for fucking you if you wear that,” Scott lounged further down in his chair, “hell any warm blooded man for that matter,”

“He wishes,” she mumbled, “I can't handle the man I've got, I don't need anyone else,” She smirked back at him, “Plus, remember what I wore in the ring? He didn’t want to fuck me then, he’s not going to now,” she reasoned.

“It's not gonna bother me if you do,” he said honestly. He knew what made Kevin tick. He knew he'd understand what she was to him if Kevin could see her the way that Scott did. He'd understand if she acted the same way to Kevin for just one night.

“What are you trying to say?” She looked at him apprehensively, “You're not pimping me out to your buddies now are you...” She started to head back into the closet.

“Brook, wear that,” Scott stood walking towards her, “you've already got it on and you look so hot in it,” he made an obvious pass over her with his eyes.

“You didn't answer my question,” she said with a suspicious stare, backing out in their room.

“I'm not nor would I ever ‘pimp you out to my buddies’. If I was, Waltman would pay a pretty penny, “ he teased to her scrunched face, “just teasing…” he got amusement out of her reaction.

“So what's all this about screwing Nash?” She felt a nervousness in her gut that made her feel self conscious.

“Baby…I'm not saying you should. But I want you two to have fun and get to know each other. Have a couple drinks. Show him who you really are. Just be you. If you do that, I'm just saying I couldn't resist you, how can I expect him to?” Scott tried to reason, knowing he was doing a poor job. Her skeptical face confirmed this.

“What if it does? I don't want to hurt you …”she stopped there, already upset by the idea of causing him any pain.

“This is different, trust me,” he slipped his arms around her sides, “I just want you to let loose and have fun. He'll see what I see then.”

Brooklyn still wasn't convinced, but she nodded to placate Scott. The doorbell caught both of their attention. Scott left to answer it as she finished her earrings and lightly added subtle eyeliner. She didn't know what compelled her to change her simple panties, but she slipped on a cheeky satin pair instead.

She carefully went downstairs, getting used to the heels. At the bottom waited Scott and Kevin. It was quick, but she could have sworn she saw Kevin gulp. But he was definitely looking, and looking at everything. Scott pretended like he didn't notice.

“There she is,” Scott smiled up at her, proudly beaming over her attractiveness.

“Evening,” Kevin said, clearing his throat. He stared her down as she stopped on the last step to keep her height closer to his.

“Good evening,” she answered politely. Scott had to stifle laughing at the contention between the two of them, “Are you ready? We should probably get going,” she was not up for small talk.

She kissed Scott on the cheek goodbye, Kevin walking out the door first and going to the driver's side door.

“Geez Kev, your mom raised you better than that,” Scott shook his head as he crossed his arms leaning against the door frame. He could see Brooklyn was already irritated, but she hid it well.

“She's capable of getting her own door,” Kevin excused his lack of chivalry, “See?” He said as she opened her own door. She gave one last look of annoyance toward Scott, before rolling her eyes and getting in.

Kevin tried to focus on driving, glad he brought his 5-speed Lexus. Shifting gears kept him somewhat distracted from the amount of bare leg in his passenger seat.

“Nice dress,” he said, still not looking directly at her.

“Thanks,” she tried to adjust the hem in vain once again, “just something I had in the back of my closet,” she looked over at his wardrobe selection now.

He wore khaki shorts and a crisp, but plain white t-shirt, not an unusual male outfit for the sweltering humidity of Florida. His hair was done perfectly and his goatee looked freshly trimmed. His cologne smelled incredible, one of those scents that one would find themselves leaning in to catch more of.

“You look nice, too,” she returned the compliment honestly, “I feel like I should be getting hair tips from you,” she complimented him as she remembered Scott's wish that she be herself.

“Yours has always been nice, I should be asking you,” for someone who always knew what to say, he was certainly having trouble finding words to fill the silence.

She started to reach for the radio, but remembered her manners even if Kevin forgot his, “Do you mind?” She motioned towards the knobs.

He shrugged, accelerating and shifting as they merged into the highway, “Feel free,”

She fiddled with the stations until a familiar tune floated through the speakers. She had no idea what kind of music he was into, but figured I'd he was too opposed to it, he'd say something.

As T-Boz started her quick, husky lyrics, Brooklyn felt more relaxed, her leg keeping a slow time with the beat. Kevin side-eyed her movements, noticing the subtle movement of her hips. He looked away quickly when she caught him.

For some reason, catching him relaxed her. He was just a male, not some impenetrable force of nature.

“This is tight,” he complimented her, always a sucker for R&B, “Who is this?”

“TLC…how do you not know TLC??,” if anything they had similar tastes in music, “You into this kinda stuff?”

“Hell, I'm from Detroit. Motown. Birthplace of this music,” he spoke reactively, being himself though he was trying not to, “I’ve heard of ‘em, thought they were more of a pop girl group though,”

“We have to get you Crazy, Sexy, Cool. It's a great album,” She started to feel a bit more comfortable now, “I've only been to Detroit when we were on tour. Never got to spend much time there.” She was feeling good about making conversation.

“It's home, but it's cold for way too long,” Kevin didn't elaborate, essentially shutting down the exchange.

Brooklyn tried again a few moments later.

“So where are we going?” She looked out the window, trying to figure out where they might be headed.

“It's a Jamaican place up here on the lakefront.” He vaguely gestured to the south, “Good, ethnic seafood and shit”

Brooklyn was expecting a parking lot with a food truck at this point. But the swanky restaurant outdid her menial expectations of him. Clearly it was elevated island food. At least the valet opened the door and held his hand for her. She almost jumped when she felt Kevin's large hand on the small of her back as he led her in.

“Jumpy much?” He snickered, before speaking with the hostess.

“Not used to you touching me without it being in the form of a powerbomb or chokeslam,” She reasoned, “Usually expect something violent,” She smirked knowing the hostess probably would take her words out of context. Kevin furrowed his brow angrily, knowing how she was making him look. Her smirk only confirmed it was on purpose.

The hostess only blushed as she handed off their menus to an assistant server, not making eye contact with Kevin again.

“I’ll be lucky to get out of here without getting arrested,” His teeth were gritted slightly and she could feel the heat of his glare on her, but it did little to reduce her smugness.

She sat in the chair that was pulled out for her, glad it wasn’t Kevin as she’d likely have ended up on the floor. She glanced at the wine list the maitre'd held.

“The 1972 Malbec, please,” She was met with an approving head nod from the maitre’d before he turned to Kevin, who looked at her almost disapprovingly. It was no Cristal, but it was far from their cheapest.

“Just bring a bottle of it,” He caved, at least this way it would be cheaper per glass.

“A whole bottle, what exactly are your plans?” She said as they were left alone for the moment.

“If you think I’m going to go through this whole night sober, you’re wrong. Gonna at least need a couple of glasses to tolerate you.” He sipped on his glass of water.

“Wow, just keep layering on the charm,” She put her hands on the table as if she were going to push away and stand. Kevin reached his foot out, catching the lip on the bottom of her seat and pulled it forward roughly so she was pinned to the table.

“We agreed to this, don’t get all pissy about it and think you’re going to bail. You’re stuck with me tonight, kid,” He reminded her. He lowered his leg slowly, feeling her knees trying to close.

“Rule #1 then, don’t call me kid,” She lowered her voice, but maintained a serious tone, “I’m not a kid, your buddy Scott knows that real well,” She smiled as the sommelier poured their glasses expertly. Kevin couldn’t help but glance at her cleavage as her arms inadvertently pressed them together even more. Scott had always been a fan of tits and he could definitely see the appeal there. Her ring outfits had never been conservative, but something about being in dressy, but regular clothes and not a costume made him view her differently.

“Fine, you’re not a kid, Brooklyn,” He said her name and it felt oddly personal to say to her. She seemed to react to it similarly. He grabbed for his glass, but stopped short of drinking when she cleared her throat.

“Shouldn’t we toast to something?” She reached for her glass now, holding it up from the table slightly, “isn’t it bad luck not to toast?”

“Fine,” he held his glass out, “To an…unusual woman… who makes my friend very happy and for that I am grateful for her,” He offered, noting the subdued surprise on her face. The corner of his mouth couldn’t resist a smirk.

“To a man that the love of my life considers family, that I hope to one day as well,” She hated saying such vulnerable things, but it was the truth. The glasses clinked and they each sipped, their eyes darting away from the other. They both knew that such statements would make things awkward and they had been right.

The wine warmed her tongue, throat and belly, and seemed to simmer her discomfort with her company.

“So…do you hate me because I take up too much of Scott’s time?” She asked blatantly.

Kevin sputtered in his wine a little, managing to keep it in the glass.

“Jesus, no,” He started, before bending to her unconvinced gaze, “Maybe partly. It's been him and me for a long time. I have my family, but Scott’s never been the -” He knew he was going to sound harsh and selfish, “ he’s never been the stable one. I was the guy he could count on to be there.”

“And if I’m the real deal, then you have to figure out the role of just being a regular friend?” She surmised. It was true, but he still didn’t like it.

“Honey, you haven’t seen everything yet. There might be nights you’re calling me for backup.” He knew Scott was in a different mindset now and the truth was, he had no idea if he’d fall back on those old habits if he was in a state of domestic bliss.

“And if I did?” She tried to ignore the spite in his voice, “If I called you for help, would you show up?”

Kevin took a long drink of his wine, “I would. But for him more than for you.”

Brooklyn exhaled in frustration. Just when they seemed to be heading towards some small but significant breakthrough, he had to return to disparagement.

Brooklyn excused herself to the bathroom and silently screamed into the echo-y void out of irritation. She could understand feeling threatened by a woman. This was nothing new in the realm of men’s relationships. But Kevin was being purposefully obtuse. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the balls if only to see something else on his face other than contempt.

She leaned on the counter staring at herself in the mirror. She thought of Scott’s roundabout ‘approval’ that tonight was a ‘free pass’. He might have looked at her tits once or twice, but she couldn’t imagine Kevin was thinking of anything close to fucking her. She thought it far more likely that he might throw her in the lake to the gators.

“Be nice. It irritates him more when he doesn’t get to you,” She said aloud to herself. She adjusted her dress in the mirror, smoothing out the lace and pushing up the bust.

“You the one here with that super tall stud?” A lady walked into the bathroom as she was adjusting.

“Yeah, that’s my date,” She tried not to spit out the word.

“Girl, I ain’t ever seen someone stare at an ass like he was you. I mean, congratulations on it,” She complimented, “But you definitely got the upperhand on that man,”

Brooklyn grinned at herself, the girl code was a marvelous thing.

In her absence, Kevin had ordered for her and though she was miffed at first, when he revealed what he’d ordered, she settled her ruffled feathers. It was not a cheap dish and shrimp happened to be one of her favorite foods.

“I didn’t forget that time you out ate Norton in boiled shrimp,” he recalled, “If anything I have to respect you for that,”

She tried to let her irritation roll off her back, remembering what was said in the restroom. Perhaps he was lashing out because he was attracted to her and felt guilty about it. Lashing out would be a natural response. The idea seemed to make a lot of his behavior fall into place. Maybe Scott knew it, too and was trying to lead her to the same conclusion. She held her tongue for now, still managing polite conversation.

She played the part of a gracious date as he paid a surprisingly half-comped bill. He knew her kindness and subversive flirting was likely the cause. She seemed to easily enchant any man that came near her if she felt like it. Why she chose to be such a bitch to him was a mystery.

“Maybe because that’s a valid response to you being a dick to her first?” his subconscious suggested, but he brushed it off.

Once again, the valet opened her door, though for a moment Kevin seemed to head in the direction of doing so, but side-stepped when he was beaten.

“Where to now? Or have I worn you out for the evening?” She questioned, holding the door handle tightly as he got up to speed quickly. The sudden movement was exhilarating if not a little alarming.

He had to side glance at the way her thighs flexed when she braced herself.

“Don’t let her get you all worked up now,” His logic spoke up.

“Country Club down the shore a little ways, they have a private club. Quiet, private kind of place.” He shifted into the next gear, grinding it a little.

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

The club was dimly lit and had nicer furniture than she’d seen before. She was sure the leather sofas were worth more than her car. There were several alcoves around the edge of the space, partially obscured by heavy, dark red drapes that were secured to one side. They were led to one after Kevin spoke with a well dressed host.

Other patrons were in various levels of formal attire, if anything Kevin looked underdressed, but she assumed money bought leeway with some things. The alcove was raised from the main floor and she was surprised that it was Kevin’s hand that was held out to help her step up.

“Those heels look dangerous,” He reasoned, motioning for her to pick her seat. Two cushy black brushed suede chairs were nestled in one corner flanked by a matching loveseat. A rich, wood low level table separated them from the edge of the alcove.

“They aren’t not dangerous, thank you,” She agreed with him.

She sat, crossing her ankles to keep her legs together. Sometimes she had to purposefully remember etiquette after spending so much time on the road with wrestlers. She saw Kevin mumble something quietly to the host while handing over a small stack of folded bills.

Moments later a tray with expensive champagne and strawberries was brought. She raised her eyebrows at the gesture, though confused by his mixed signals. He poured her a glass after dropping in a strawberry.

As he settled back in his chair with his own glass, Brooklyn couldn’t stop the urge to break his composure.

"I think I know why you actually hate me" She sipped the bubbly sweet liquid.

"Can't wait to hear this" He was surprised by her sudden and direct statement, thinking they'd already covered this at the restaurant.

"Because you're jealous." She tried to subdue her wicked, knowing grin. She was amused by the sour turn of his face.

"Me. Jealous. Of you. " He scoffed at the ridiculous assumption as if it weren’t true.

"Not really of me... but...of Scott kinda" She shrugged, leaning her chin on her hand as her elbow rested on the arm of the chair, ‘It’s understandable though,”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Scott’s like a brother, but we all know I have more going on than him" Kevin replied with a contrived superiority.

"Which is why it ticks you off so much! " She didn’t falter to his cocky manner, still confident in her assessment.

"Why what ticks me off?? Fuck off with your riddles, jesus christ" He cursed, feeling the weight of her judgement.

"That from the first moment you saw me,” she made a point to make eye contact, “you wanted to fuck me so bad that you could taste it. And Scott beat you to it." She returned her own cocky attitude, taking a longer drink without taking her eyes off of him.

"Is that so..." He leaned forward, his arms on his knees, scoffing again.

"And the worst part for you is, the first time you saw me tonight you thought the same thing. And now you're mad because you're dick is hard as a rock and there's nothing....you...can do....about it"

Kevin’s ears were ringing with her words and was livid about how true they were. He knew his anger was surfacing as his breathing labored under the building wrath.

"You're about to find out what I'm gonna do about it. And Scott's not here to save you” He warned her.

“What exactly is it you plan to do about it, Mr. Nash?” She took a strawberry from the table and bit into it slowly, letting her lips linger on the juicy red fruit.

He set his glass down, with an aggressive clink that was probably not far from shattering it. Eyes on her, he lifted his hand and motioned with a finger. At that moment, the drape slowly lowered, completely obscuring them from the rest of the room. The only dim light came from two sconces glowing faintly on the wall.

Though she had expected turnabout, she couldn’t help but wonder if he could see her chest rising more quickly as the silence between them thickened.

Slow rhythmic music softly sailed from hidden speakers. She didn’t dare break the stare first.

Kevin downed the rest of his champagne in one large gulp and stood. He was such an imposing man, more so when she was sitting looking up at his towering frame.

He held his hand down to her. She looked at it and back up to his face.

“Get up,” he said, motioning for her hand with his fingers, “You owe me a dance.”

Still with her eyes on him, she set her glass down and reached to slip her hand in his. She stood, one hand sliding to his bicep, the other he held in his hand. She came up to his chest, just slightly lower than Scott. She maintained the slightest gap between them as his other hand slid around her torso.

“How do I owe you a dance?” She asked with a much more submissive tone than before. His cologne was still like a welcome incense.

“For dinner,” He reasoned, looking down at her, “and for busting my balls the last three hours,” he said but did not laugh, his face increasingly serious.

“You know I don't like that,” she still felt the tension from his mood, but struggled against smirking as he raised an eyebrow, “Well…maybe I do…but I don't like that I like it,”

“I don't like how you make me feel,” Kevin said, his firm tone contradicting how gently he was holding her, she looked at him confused, “You make me so damn aroused every damn time I see you. I want you so bad most times I have to beat it twice in your bathroom just to maintain. And then I feel like shit because you're my best friend's woman and what kind of friend does that make me,” his teeth were nearly gritted and she somehow felt safe and in danger in the same moment.

“I didn't know you felt like that,” she admitted, having only picked up on the seething hatred. She had noticed Kevin made frequent bathroom trips but never assumed anything out of the ordinary. She felt a tingle between her legs thinking about him self-pleasuring out of desperation.

“I shouldn't. I should be able to just be friends with you. At least cordial so that when I come to my buddy's house I can watch the game without thinking about you the whole time or insulting each other constantly.” he breathed like the admission was a weight off his chest but a stone in his gut, “Scott has never treated me or any girl I've been with like this, “ he winced referring to his wife as part of ‘any girls’.

Kevin pushed her away and turned his back taking a few steps while running a hand over his face then through his hair. Telling her this wasn't reducing his culpability and if anything it was making it worse having to look at her in such a sexy little dress.

“This was a mistake….I need to take you home.” He stood with his back to her still, his hands on his hips now as he cursed his stupid mind.

He shuddered when he felt her hands lay flat against his back. They rose slowly, curving over the round of his shoulder.

“Brooklyn…. You shouldn't touch me,” he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Sit down,” she said so softly and gently that he nearly groaned, her hands pressuring his shoulders slightly.

“Brooklyn,” he protested weakly.

“Sit, Kevin….please,” she stepped closer to him, her breasts grazing his back.

He conceded and sat on the love seat, silently watching as she stood between his splayed legs.

“Close your eyes,” she said, leaning forward, her fingers grazing down over his eyes, “Close ‘em,”

He did so, his other senses acutely aware as she straddled his lap. With the slow music, she moved her hips in time with it, her hands crept over his chest and torso. His head fell back against the frame of the couch as he focused on feeling her against him. He'd had lap dances before, but nothing this sensual, nothing that made his breath shudder from his lips like this. He tried to hold still, but his own hips rolled in time with her. His hands gripped into the couch, nearly puncturing the fabric.

Brooklyn kept the pressure of her hands soft, grazing over his neck, face, and threading through his hair. She could tell she was working him up, but she wasn't doing herself any favors either. She was impressed that he hadn't touched her, but the way his hand gripped the arm of the loveseat, she knew he wanted to.

“If you want to touch me,” She whispered, “You just have to ask,”

His fingers twitched and she knew he was fighting his own inner turmoil. She felt the hem of her dress riding higher and higher as her thighs spread wide across his lap. She separated the lace from the white slip and shimmied it over her head. It was just as tight, but the fabric alone showed the obvious hardened tip of each nipple as it hugged her breasts tightly.

She pulled his shirt from where it was tucked in, running her hands underneath it. She felt the radiating heat of his skin, drawing a strained sigh out of him.

“Brooklyn…. Can I touch you…please god dammit let me touch you,” he sounded regretful to ask, but she could see he was about to burst.

“Yes, Kevin…touch me,” She spoke softly to him. His large hands did not waste time, surprisingly going to her waist first, but it made sense as he pushed her down more firmly against his lap. She felt why immediately as the khaki cloth stretched over his stiff member. But they wandered swiftly. She couldn't help but moan as his hands gripped her scantily covered ass, squeezing and massaging it roughly.

She grinded against him slowly, wondering if he was going to remain submissive or at some point take control. She would see how far she could take it before he lost his composure.

She raised enough that one of her tits hovered above his face, she ran the cotton covered nipple over his slack lip, the weight of her breast grazing his chin.

He moaned, his eyes still closed as his head leaned forward, mouthing her breast. With his teeth, he pulled the fabric down enough to nibble on her bare nipple. His hand slid back to her hips, pushing her down hard against him as he dry humped her harshly. She held on to him for stability as his tongue swirled around the rosey peak and her sex gyrated against his.

“Fuck… Kevin,” she moaned, “fuck…stop, please god, stop!” she begged, losing the fight against cumming already. Kevin slowed for a second, before she grabbed his hair and changed her tune, “Fuck it…don't stop,” she encouraged him to keep going as she pressed her sex firmly against him, “Kev, I'm cumming!” She whispered in a high pitch as she felt her juices dampen her already slick panties.

Kevin opened his eyes just in time to see pleasure etched on her face as she gripped his arms tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him securely as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. She bit her lip as she looked down at him.

“I…I didn't mean to do that yet,” she mumbled. From the haze in Kevin’s listless gaze she would have thought he'd cum, too.

“Do you know how hot you look when you cum, fuck,” he said with a hungry look in his eye, “did you get wet?” He asked, licking his lips.

Brooklyn grinned mischievously, “I guess Scott didn't tell you about that part,” she slid down him a little, his parted lips beckoning her.

“I told him I didn't want to hear anything about you…it'd only make me want you more,” He admitted. He kissed her back insistently as her mouth pressed to his. The kiss was breathless and needy, his hands pulling the slip down her body so the entirety of it bunched at her waist.

She parted from his lips long enough to beg in a whisper, “Put your hand in my panties,”

“What??” He had her nearly naked in his lap, yet couldn't quite believe his ears.

“I want you to feel what you've done to me,” She sat back enough for him to slip his hand down the front. He first found her freshly smoothed skin, but quickly found the molten wetness coating her sex.

“Jesus christ…” he slid his fingers further, massaging her sensitive bud and making her squirm, “ Wanna cum for me again?” His own words rung in his ears now, almost unbelieving that he actually said them.

“Yes…make me cum, Kev…I'm so close,” She felt the tingles building before he even touched her, the direct contact sending her to the edge again quickly. His intense gaze wasn't helping to subdue it either.

Her hips rolled her sex against his wiggling fingers and she arched her back and let her head fall backwards as she came. His free hand massaged her firm tits as he felt her pussy coat his fingers with fresh wetness.

Her legs were shaking, but she managed to stand, pulling the slip down her legs and letting the panties fall with it. She started to step out of the heels, but Kevin stopped her.

“Leave ‘em on…it's hotter that way….” He looked up and down her naked body, jealous that Scott had full access to this all the time, but at the same time totally understanding her appeal. The slit of her pussy glistened with the wetness she elicited for him. His fingers were still sticky with it, but he wanted to taste it from the source, “Please let me lick that pretty little pussy,” he scooted forward, his hands holding her hips.

Brooklyn stepped her legs slightly more apart and put her hands atop his head, guiding him to her. His wide, strong tongue licked the length of her slit, flicking past her clit and suckling lightly on it as she whimpered.

“Kev…oh fuck…Kev….” Whimpering his name only made his tongue more spirited.

Not wanting to waste the slick on his fingers, he circled her entrance with them, before slipping them inside and shallowly fucking her cunt. Her knees wobbled, but she stayed on her feet as she felt a tickle surge into the sweltering heat of another orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, but didn't stop as she recovered, moving his head back just enough to have an amazing view of his fingers sinking into her pussy.

“Are you gonna let me see that cock I've heard so much about?” She cooed, running her fingernails through his hair. He looked up at her, still slowly working his fingers. He could see the pleasured reactions on her face still.

“What have you heard?” He slowly slid his fingers from her.

“Essentially that you're basically going to rip me in two,” She chewed her lip, “but I'd like to see for myself.”

“We…we can't undo it…if we do this…” he seemed still slightly apprehensive

“You've made me cum three times and had your mouth full of my pussy…I think we've already passed too far…why stop there when I know you're dying to fuck me?” She tilted his head up to look at her, she could see the inner turmoil in his eyes, “Right now it's just you and me,” he leaned his forehead against her stomach, “And I really want to feel you inside of me,”

He clenched his jaw as he stood, kissing up her body as he went. He slipped off his shirt, loosened his belt and dropped his shorts to the floor. She couldn’t help but look at his muscular frame and proud chest. She gulped at the heavy hanging shaft between his legs, far too large to ever stand on its own.

“There's a lot to get inside of you…” he warned the obvious now. He led her to the back of the love seat, perching her ass on the top of the back of it, putting her at the perfect height for him to penetrate easily.

Her breath quickened as he used her juices to slicken his shaft, directing it into her slowly.

“Holy FUCK…” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low, but found it nearly impossible as he continued to fill her. She pressed her palm against his torso and he paused, another third left to go.

“Ever had one this big, baby?” He puffed his chest a little, knowing it was unlikely.

She shook her head, her breathing shaky as he withdrew and slid back in slowly. Her eyes rolled back as he thrusted gently and slowly.

“Never that big…” She murmured, balancing precariously on the edge, her legs spread wide around him.

“Fuck…this pussy feels so damn good….” his legs trembled with restraint as he quickened his thrusts, hoping to sneak another inch or two inside of her.

“Kev…it's…it's too…” She bit her lip to keep herself from talking, flirting with the edge of her pleasure threshold.

“Am I too big for you, baby?” He hummed at her, seeing in her face that she wanted it all even if she couldn't handle it. He held her hips, harshening his thrusts now, letting out the frustration that had been building all night.

He knew other people could hear her whimpered moans, but his generous tip bought him more privileges than them.

“Yes…” she gasped, “but, don't stop,” she begged, breathless.

He still had a couple of inches to force into her, but he waited, thrusting rapidly now into her once again, freshly soaked pussy.

“Cum on my cock like a good little girl, that's it, squirt all over me you dirty little whore,” when she did exactly as told, he knew dirty talk was her trigger. As her orgasm subsided, he slipped out of her completely, much to the protest in her expression. He stroked his slick cock quickly.

“Bend over like a good little slut,” He commanded, aroused by the visual of her bent over the couch in her white heels and nothing else. He stepped behind her and slipped in his entire length, trapping her between him and the couch she had nowhere to escape.

Brooklyn covered her mouth, but her pussy ached in the best way. Kevin's hands held her shoulders as he rocked her with powerful, deliberate thrusts. He felt all his frustrations melting away as she begged for him to fuck her harder.

He lifted one of her legs over the back of the couch, drilling her deeper still and feeling her shake with an earth-shattering orgasm that made her pussy grip his dick tightly. She groaned primally as he knew he was fucking her to the edge of consciousness.

Brooklyn could hardly manage his invasion into her body. His cock slid deeper and deeper inside of her inching past what she thought she could handle. His large gripping hands held her captive though she didn’t want to escape this welcome torture.

“I wanna feel you cum,” She begged, not caring who, if anyone, heard her on the other side of the curtain, “please cum in me, Kev…”

He groaned at the request, his logic knowing better, but it was drowned out by the drive of his sexual prowess.

“You want my cum? You want it in that slutty cunt? I'll give it to you baby,” he pressed his hand in the small of her back, burying his large cock to the hilt and forcing his cum deeper within her womb than anyone had ever before.

“Kev!” She moaned his name loudly as his cock penetrated her deeply and spilled stream after stream of his stored seed, filling her tunnel until it seeped out and dripped on his balls.

She tried to catch her breath, her body at it's limit as her muscles trembled. She nearly came at the movement of Kevin slowly withdrawing, managing an airy laugh as she slowly lowered her nearly cramping leg. She turned, leaning against the couch, still out of breath as she looked up at Kevin who was in a similar state.

“I don't really think those things about you-” he started, but Brooklyn stopped him.

“I know…I know…it was just talk,” She offered an understanding smile. She laughed again as her leg momentarily spasmed, “I might need.. something…” She looked around, knowing he'd left a hefty deposit behind.

He reached for a stack of folded cloth napkins and flicked on open, parting her legs a little. She reached for the napkin, but he held it firmly. She gasped a little as he ran it slowly up her now delicately sensitive slit.

“You don't have to…” She gasped again as he passed back over.

“It's the least I could do…it is my mess after all…” He seemed to have found his generous side. If this is what she had to do to earn his kindness, she wished they'd done this much earlier.

Her panties were nearly soaked and she laid them to the side as she slipped on the white under dress and shimmied the lace over it. There was something oddly intimate about watching her redress.

“So much for these…” She murmured at the cold, damp satin, looking around hopefully for a trashcan.

“Do you mind,” Kevin stepped up only in his shorts as he buckled his belt, “if I have them?” His eyes were trained on the ball of green fabric.

Brooklyn couldn’t believe the surge of confidence and arousal she felt at the idea of Kevin coveting her panties secretly. She was glad she had changed into a cute, sexier pair… At least for his sake.

“I don't mind at all,” She handed them over to his open and waiting palm.

He poured them each another glass of champagne and she downed it quickly, her thirst demanding hydration. He made a mental note to stop and get her water or something.

She was embarrassed as she thought of walking out in front of all the people in the club, knowing they had probably heard everything.

“Trust me, I took care of it…” Kevin tried to calm her as he slipped his shirt back on and fixed his hair.

It was the first time he'd said ‘trust me’ and meant it without sarcasm. Maybe Scott knew what he was talking about all along. She took Kevin’s outstretched hand and crept from behind the curtain, using his frame as a shield. But the room was empty, save for a few workers who didn't even look their way.

The ride back was quiet, but comfortable as they listened to the Keith Sweat album he selected. When he didn't have to shift, he rested his large hand on her thigh and she didn't seem to mind. She smirked at the glovebox occasionally, knowing the green satin that was concealed inside.

It was late by the time he pulled up in Scott's driveway, welllllll after midnight. But the porch light was on and through the glass surround of the door, she could see the glow of the den TV. Scott was still awake.

She started to get out, but Kevin locked the doors, walking around to her side. She rolled her eyes, but did so smiling this time as he opened her door.

On the porch she turned to tell him goodnight, but he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep, intense kiss. She held onto his shoulders for balance, left unstable at first when he parted.

“I had a great time…I'm glad we did this. “ He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, “Scott's lucky he found you,”

“I'm the lucky one, Kevin. He makes me really happy,” She looked towards the door smiling, “I'd do anything for him,”

“Believe me…I know you would,” Kevin chuckled, nodding towards the door, “Get inside before I get any other ideas,”

Brooklyn leaned up and kissed his cheek, “G'night Kev,” She said softly before going inside.

Kevin felt a sense of relief and clarity as he drove away. He'd been skeptical of the whole idea, but he had to admit, Scott might have known exactly what he was talking about.

[edgessunflower]

Masterlist 87

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 21

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 21 of 22 (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 2812

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Taglist: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (DM or comment to be added!)

Scott locked the doors, if anyone came they’d just have to wait outside until he was ready to let them in. Just as she was starting up the steps, he came in behind her and scooped her up in his arms. She squealed a little in surprise, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to hold herself. 

“Is this ok?” He asked, realizing she’d never said outright that she was ok with him touching her, “I’m just worried about that traumatized leg of yours,” He slightly teased.

“Yes…” She looked up at him, realizing how much she’d missed the feel of his arms, his hands, his body, “I’m ok with it.” She severely understated exactly how she was feeling in the moment. She felt butterflies passing through the doorway to his room. He set her down in the bathroom, backing away. 

“I’ll be right back” He held up a finger as he exited, grabbing her silky robe and the pajamas that lay on top of her suitcase. He knocked on the doorframe before entering, finding her exactly as he left her. He set down her things on the counter, sitting on the edge of the large soaking tub as he began to draw her a bath. 

Brinkley felt oddly flattered by the gesture, waiting for his full attention. 

“Shouldn’t take it too long…” He tested the temp of the steaming stream, adjusting it accordingly, “I can…” He motioned towards the door, implying he could leave if she wanted him to. 

“No…you should stay,” She shook her head, taking a step toward him, “I might need some help,” She could feel her core tremble. She could hardly comprehend how much she wanted him. 

“My help?” He cocked his head sideways slightly, “What else could I possibly help you with?”

“Well…” She blushed even though she was the one coming on to him, “for starters, taking my clothes off,” she looked at him even though it only made her cheeks burn hotter. She felt as if even the temperature of the room shot up, as his eyes flickered up and down her for a moment, looking hungrier by the second, “I am hurt, after all,” She poutedly remarked. 

“Oh your gruesome injury?” He couldn’t help but smile at her weak excuse, “You need me to kiss it and make it all better, too?” He widened the spread of his legs from where he sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing his thighs as if his hands were just itching to get a hold of her, “You better c’mere then…”

Why was she so nervous for him to touch her, especially in this way? It was nothing new, it wasn’t any different than any way he’d touched her hundreds of times before. But it felt like it was. She stepped up closer to him, stopping as she stood just between his knees. She was still just in her workout gear…she suddenly became self conscious that she might smell sweaty after 2 hours in the ring. But, it was clear that Scott didn’t seem to mind even if she did. 

He lifted her shirt first, tossing it to the side. He slowly pulled down the zipper of her sport’s bra, each inch building the sexual tension between them. Part of her wished he’d move more swiftly, it might dispel the smidgen of anxiety that rested in her. But as he met his eyes, and really saw him, she felt that bond of trust again. She knew it seemed too soon, but she didn’t want to punish him any more. 

“You know, you drew me a bath once before,” She tried to subdue the tension. 

“I remember,” He looked up at her with a wry smile, “I remember that night explicitly,” 

“Me too,” Though she blushed, remembering how nervous she was feeling a stranger's hands but somehow knowing they were his.

“My only regret,” He slowly slipped her bra from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, but his eyes remained on hers, “Is that our first time wasn’t just you and me,” 

“Part of me thought that was going to happen a few times before that night,” She admitted, “Like that one time you were in my room and I was only in that towel,” She recalled that interaction, knowing it would have led to more if Curt hadn’t walked in. 

“It was absolutely going to,” Scott said firmly enough that it made her shiver. He peeled her tights off, sliding his hands to her waist and pulling her to move closer to him. He gently kissed the valley between her breasts, feeling her let out a long breath. 

“I wanted you…so much,” She admitted, knowing that at the time they’d been dancing around their attraction. She wasn’t now, “I want you even more now,” 

Scott growled, his teeth grazing along her nipple, his hands still holding her steady as she slid her hands in his hair. He left it down now, knowing how much she liked it that way. Her hands slid down his back, pulling at his shirt until she could lift it from him. 

Soon she found herself in the steamy water, Scott laying behind her. She could feel his entire body against her; his manhood throbbing against her backside. But he didn’t rush her, one hand rested across her chest as one hand teased her breast and the other slowly worked between her splayed thighs. She gripped onto his forearm that rested on her chest. As his fingers slipped between her folds, he used two to circle her clit at a mind numbingly slow pace.

Brinkley tried her best not to squirm, feeling his intimate touch. He’d slow if her arousal flared too much, backing off to the lightest, whispered touch until she calmed. 

“Scott, please,” She murmured, pressing against him as she begged for firmer, faster stimulation. Though underwater, he could feel her pussy was saturated by her own wetness, he could feel her sex pulsing beneath his fingers. He could hardly manage the sensations he felt from the way she was moving against his now achingly hard shaft. 

He kissed her earlobe, her cheek, along her jaw as he gave into her insistent pleas of sexual respite. The warm water lapped over her, the heat of it surrounding her submerged body. She felt as if she were his submissive captive, willing to let him decide when she could cum. His touch was controlled, but vigorous as he held her as still as he could, making her submit to his demand. She cried out his name as she came, her hands gripping tightly into his thighs. 

“Scott, please…please baby,  I need you,” she writhed slowly as his fingers continued their exploration over her sensitive folds, “Don't you want me?” She whimpered,  wishing he would release her so she could slip under the water and find out how long she could really hold her breath. 

“I’m about to fucking lose it, I want you so bad,” He growled in her ear, “But my dick is gonna explode the second its inside you…I’m gonna need a minute, baby girl,”

Brinkley thought for a moment before speaking, knowing in her heart she wanted to say it. 

“I can wait for you, Daddy…” She murmured, feeling Scott tense just a little under her. 

“Brinkley, baby, you don’t have to-” He started, knowing that his jealousy over that term alone had been part of his undoing. 

“I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to,” She interjected, reaching her hand up to glide her fingers along his stubbled cheek, “Don’t you want me to?” she reverted back to a feigned tonal innocence. 

“God yes…” He slipped his fingers down farther, working them slowly in and out of her, “turns me on so fucking much…”

She was barely dried off before Scott threw her on the bed. He kissed her slowly at first, barely resisting the urge to bury himself inside of her, his cock pulsing against her thigh. 

“Scott, please,” She begged, arching a little as his lips grazed along her neck. She didn’t think she could take much longer without feeling him inside of her. She felt herself insanely consumed with want, her patience waning. She calmed slightly when he lifted up slightly, looking down at her with an intense but soft stare. Her hands paused from wandering over his body. 

“Brinkley,” He looked down at her, his gut cramping with nerves for a moment, “I love you,” He felt the words slip from his lips and he didn’t immediately regret them or even in the moments after. He let out the breath he’d been holding as her hand slid across his cheek. 

“I love you, too…” She said, the corners of her lips lifting into a gentle smile, happy to hear the words from him. 

Her smile only lasted a few moments as Scott slipped himself into her fully with an urgent motion. She gasped, her fingertips digging into his ribs as she held on to him tightly, afraid to let go. 

“What, baby?” He said a hint of teasing in his tone, “too much for you?”

She nodded, licking her lips to wet them quickly. 

“Way too much…but don't stop,  please don't stop,” she held on to him tightly,  bracing herself for his next thrust that was just as deep and firm as the first. She loved the way he made her feel; this was the way she wanted to experience him. Should could feel his emotional closeness, could feel the desire in his movements that this was as much for her as it was for him. He kissed her as their bodies melded together, his lips hungry to touch all of her, trailing along her neck, her shoulders. 

He hooked one arm around her leg, making her whimper as he drove himself deeper, his pace controlled by the collision of lust and love he’d tried to keep buried but could no longer. 

He couldn’t lose her. Not this one. He’d lost so many before, but he had to be better for her and for himself. 

Brinkley felt as if her body were on fire, aching for him so deeply, she thought she might cry. She wrapped her arms around him as if she were worried he would float away. She held him so tightly the friction between them nearly rubbed her skin raw, but she only begged him for more. 

Her thighs quivered, her muscles felt weak, but she didn’t dare let him go. Each climax was a gift she felt grateful to receive. SHe knew he was holding back, desperately trying to give her all the pleasure he possibly could. But she wanted him to feel the same.

She begged for his release, impatient to feel his explosive seed. She wanted to hear the pained grunt that rumbled from his throat when he came. She begged him again, Scott submitting to her call as well as the one inside of him desperate for that flood of pleasure. 

Each pulse of his cock made Scott nearly lightheaded, his world spinning except for the grip of her arms and legs around him, holding him steady. His breathing was so heavy that he nearly shuddered against her. He knew the weight of him must’ve been considerable, but she didn’t loosen her embrace. She adored the feel of him against her. 

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

When Brinkley woke the next morning, she felt weightless, as if every care was lifted from her when she turned and saw the mass of black waves on the pillow beside her. She grinned slightly at the gentle lope of his snores. He only seemed to do that after he’d been exhausted by sex. Knowing that made her love it more. When he’d pass out drunk, his snore was far more obnoxious. 

As she lay on her side, watching him sleep, she noted how peaceful he looked. She wanted to do anything she could to make him happy. She knew he struggled with himself. She hoped he trusted her. She hoped she wasn't foolishly trusting him,  but she wanted to. Only time would tell; she'd have to be patient. 

Scott stirred and stretched, humming as he felt her laying against his side.  His bed was so much colder when she was far away on the other side of it. He noticed the sheets were still pushed to the side,  seeing the varying shades of their flesh intertwined. The feel of her soft thigh laid over his hip was the most comforting weight he'd ever felt. 

“Good morning, “ he pressed his lips to her forehead softly,  “Big day today,  huh?”

Brinkley felt her stomach flip, her nerves flaring. The only thing that was changing officially was their in ring activity. But she knew it represented much more. 

“Yeah…I hope I can do you guys proud…” she did not sound as confident as she had before. 

“Baby,  you'll do amazing.  This is what you've been working so hard for,” he reminded her, his hands gently rubbing her back, “You have a lot of talent, this is just gonna be that push you need to make your own name,”

“I feel ready,” she knew this was the goal, it just felt different than she'd anticipated, “Just…nerves, I guess,”

“I'd think there was something wrong if you weren't nervous.” He stretched again, letting out a vocal yawn, “let's take a look at that leg…” he groaned as he sat up, his body often sore first thing in the morning. Brinkley propped herself up on her elbows as he took her calf in his lap, running his thumb over the slightly broken skin, “You definitely got some rope burn. Probably won’t be the last time either,”

“I’ve had it before, but not quite this bad,” She winced a little when his thumb passed over the deepest laceration, “But I’ll live. It doesn’t really hurt,” 

“Good to hear, because you’ve got a big match tonight, you big baby,” He pinched her thigh lightly as she playfully kicked him. He looked back at her, biting his lip, “You better get dressed or we’re never gonna make it out of this bedroom.

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

Kevin met them at Scott’s house and the two rode together to the arena. Still trying to subscribe to kayfabe, Brinkley rode with Curt, who’d stayed the night again. She was happy to be riding with him, she felt safe venting her anxieties to him. 

“What if I forget everything when I’m out there? What if I just freeze up?” She rambled on about everything that could go wrong. He smirked as he saw her sitting on her hands, trying everything not to chew on her nails. 

“Brink, you won’t forget the moves. You won’t freeze up. You’re going to be the star out there and you know it.” Curt tried to bolster her confidence. 

“What if I fall flat on my face and like break my nose,” She continued rambling.

“Then you come over to me, I’ll reset it and you keep going. It won’t bruise until tomorrow so you’ll be fine,” He shrugged. 

“OK, Mr. I-Have-An-Answer-For-Everything,” She tried to be snide, but she was fighting a grin. 

“You won’t fall, because one of us will be there to catch you,” He looked at her while they waited at a stop light, his tone soft, but more serious. 

“What if I -” She looked away from him, down at her knees unable to look him in the eye, “What if I miss being your valet - what if this is a mistake?” She knew she wanted more, but she still felt unproven. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Brinkley,” he reassured her, “I’ll always be backstage, we’ll be traveling together all the time. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to come out and interfere with my matches,” He teased a little, trying to get a smile out of her while also knowing there was a likelihood that would happen, “Not that much is going to change…”

“Yes it will. Everything is changing,” She cut him off, “I just wanna feel like I’m ready,” She shrugged. 

“You will. It’ll hit you. We all already know it. We see it. The bookers see it.” Curt could see the arena approaching ahead of him and he knew she saw it too as she took a deep breath, “You’re probably gonna usher in a new era of women in this business. It's about time, too,” 

She smiled at that thought, for some reason that idea leveled her out. Though the idea of carrying the future of the women’s division on her shoulders should have been pressure - it didn’t feel that way. It gave her motivation to do better - she felt the nerves in her loosening. 

“Thanks, Curt,” She looked at him as they drove through the gates, a few screaming fans on either side, “For everything,”

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 14

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 14 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 4565

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Though it was summer and still hot in the middle of the country. The heat and humidity of Florida was oppressive, but a welcome change. Brinkley finally was looking forward to refreshing her wardrobe. It was summer so she'd likely rely on short shorts and cropped tops. She might buy a few things with longer sleeves until her arm healed. Whatever she bought, she was just relieved to add anything new to the wardrobe rotation.

Even though both were thoroughly exhausted, Brinkley had insisted she go shopping once the plane landed and they’d gathered their bags. Kevin departed for Daytona from the airport with the plan of returning daily for training; he had no interest in spending a day at a mall or department store. He didn’t envy Scott at this moment. Brinkley tried to be as expeditious as possible. She resisted grabbing arm loads to take to the dressing room and have her own mini fashion show. She could see that Scott was beat from traveling and was being benevolent enough to entertain her. She grabbed a few dresses, shorts, and tops and at Scott’s request, some lacy things that he could benefit from later. 

Brinkley found herself nervous as Scott pulled up to his house. Suddenly, everything felt very real and intimate. Staying the week with him after one date and a handful of sexual experiences felt perhaps a little premature. She could hear Curt’s objections to it in her head. 

“So, this is the castle,” Scott followed her in the door. It was a beautiful house, and Scott seemed to be very proud of it. 

“Wow, this is nice,” She walked around the entrance, then into the living room, “Hope I make this much money someday,” She smirked at him, “So where will I be staying? Do you have a guest room?” She said playfully.

“Yeah, it's the right side of my bed,” He took her bag, “Allow me to show you to your room, miss,” 

She followed him closely, gulping when she saw the large king bed in his room.

“Jesus, how much money do you even make?” She blurted out, looking at the furniture.

“I get paid well, pretty much the main reason I jumped ship to Atlanta,” He set her bag down, coming up behind her, “But I can think of some other things I’d rather talk about,” He ran his hands down her arms. 

“Is that so,” She shivered a little, barely in his room for a minute and he was making a move. She ignored the twinge of pain as he passed over her welt, “Like what, exactly,”  She leaned against him, having no plans to resist. 

“Well…one thing first, I want to see how hurt you are,” He turned her to face him, with genuine concern in his voice. 

“It’s not that bad…” she mumbled, but gave in, knowing he’d see it at some point. She slipped off her shirt and let him gently hold her arm. 

“Damn, was he trying to yank your arm off?” Scott looked mad, but she knew it was out of worry, “I mean…I’m no angel, I’ve done some dumb things drunk…I promise you he’ll never have a chance to do this to you again.” Scott swore, “Not while I’m around,”

His protective nature made her instinctively more attracted to him, now loosening her bra as he watched, licking his lips. 

“Are you my big protector?” She plied him with an innocent tone, “And here I thought you were the big, bad wolf,” She teased. 

“I might just be both,” He took a step toward her, stalking her towards the bed. 

He hovered over her as his lips lightly toyed with hers, her neck, her earlobe, her chest, her shoulders. He moved slowly, lingering so that the slightest touch made her gasp. She lay captively under him, basking in his romantic attentions. 

She kept her hands soft, too. She touched his body gently, running her fingers along his leathered skin, tough from years of abuse. She felt every line, every crevice, every rippling muscle that flexed beneath.

Scott kissed around her bruise, promising to make her feel better and forget her pain. He wasn’t lying. He entered her slowly, intently watching her every reaction as he slid deeper. 

“You feel so good, baby… I just wanna live inside you all the time…” He mumbled as his forehead rested against hers. His hips rolled slowly, but he pressed himself deep, drawing a whimper out of her each time, “Tell me how good I make you feel…”

“So good…” She moaned breathily, “I love the way you feel in me…” She mumbled, whimpering as he slowly sped his pace. She could feel him teasing a release out of her, but she didn’t chase it, “Please…harder…I wanna cum for you,” She begged. “My baby girl wants to cum for me?” He flexed his hips firmly, the force nudging her farther up the bed, “

“Yes….god yes, let me cum for you,” she slid her arms under his, her fingernails lightly digging into his back. 

Scott mumbled a curse as he buried his head against her neck, driving himself harder into her as he gave up trying to subdue his own release. Just as he moaned loudly into her skin, he felt her climax around him. She tried her hardest not to, but she couldn’t help dragging her nails down his back a little, stilted whimpers leaving her in time with his orgasmic pulses.

He lay on and in her for a while after, kissing her neck softly, silently taking her in. 

It felt different, all of it. Brinkley had to wonder if this was what making love was about. It had been intense and intimate. She felt different afterwards, too. As if she were more of a woman because of it. 

“I know I’m no great prize…” Scott mumbled, grazing his lips across hers, just out of reach of a kiss, “But I’m really happy you gave me a chance,”

“Are you serious? Scott…” She slid her knuckles across his stubble, “You’re a better guy than you know…you’re a prize to me. I wouldn’t love you like I do if I didn’t think you were worth every second of it,” She bit her lip immediately and knew her entire body was flushing when she realized what words left her mouth. 

“Is that so?” His eyebrows raised at her statement, recognizing the embarrassment of a compulsive outburst, “What exactly did you just say?” 

Brinkley shook her head quickly, “Nothing…just you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,”

“No no no, I heard you say something else. Say it again,” He held her by her chin, stilling her. He smiled at her discomposure.

“Scott…It just slipped out,” She felt stabbing nerves in her belly.

“Let it slip out again,” He ran his thumb over her chin, looking down at her affectionately. Brinkley sighed, but couldn’t argue with him on it. 

“I wouldn’t love you like I do…if I didn’t think you were worth every second…” She said it slower, looking into his dark, brown eyes. 

“That’s a pretty serious thing to admit,” He looked down at her, knowing he should just let it be. It would be stupid for him to admit the same thing, “You know I care about you a lot, right?” He held his tongue. Though he could say it and mean it…he knew it was too early. And she was so young…could he really trust her to be the adult he would need her to be or would she turn into a love sick puppy.

He felt guilty as she looked up at him in the moment. 

“You don’t have to say it back, Scott…I know its not always the same for both people,” She blurted out now, not wanting things to turn awkward, “I know you care about me, Scott. Just leave it at that,” She’d take that rather than having to hear him say he didn’t love her. 

Scott kissed her softly before sliding off of her to the side, pulling her with him so she lay on his chest. He knew he’d possibly ruined the moment for her, but she didn’t seem to mind as she snuggled up to him. Having not slept since the night before the show, both fell asleep quickly. 

Scott roused her a few hours later, though they could have slept for several more. It was important that they stay on as close of a road schedule with only 4 days off. She felt like she could have slept the entire 4 days if he’d let her. She was excited to wear something new, opting for short cutoffs and a red halter top. 

“Damn girl,” Scott said as she made her way into the kitchen, “I’m gonna have to make sure I keep myself hydrated this week,” He winked at her as he took a drink of his beer and offered her one. She shook her head, instead looking at the small selection of wine on his counter, “Oh hell, you’re not a wino like Kev are you?” He sneered playfully.

“Big Kev’s into wine?” She laughed a little, having a hard time picturing Kevin at a wine tasting with crystal flutes and his pinkie out, “Wouldn’t have called that,”  She grabbed a white wine, not sure what she would like and looked at the cork curiously. Scott smirked, taking it from her and fishing a corkscrew out of the drawer below the wine. He poured her a glass, handing it to her. 

“Speaking of Kev,” He went back to his beer, watching her intently for any reaction to his question, “What would you think about sometime inviting him in on a little fun while we’re on the road?”

Brinkley took a sip, but held it in her mouth as she looked at Scott with some surprise.

“What exactly do you mean…a little fun?  Like…poker or something?” She said hoping he wasn't implying what she thought.

“Ha… not exactly.” He sipped his beer watching her reaction, “Something a little more…physical,” he was thoughtful with his word choice.

“Oh…I,  uh….” She felt awkward,  wondering how often girls were shared between the guys and if she should have been more prepared for something like this.

“I mean, just you were into the idea of Curt and me…” he reminded her, trying not to sneer at the mention of his former tag partner.

“I didn't know that was happening until it was happening though…not really something I was prepared for.” She reminded him that she was blindsided.

“So that's why I'm asking ahead of time,” he reasoned.

“I don't really like the idea,” she said,  wondering if she was already going to be a disappointment, “I just want to be with you. Plus, I mostly annoy Kevin…  not sure he'd be into it.” She surmised.

“Are you kidding?” Scott chuckled, “He acts like that because he wants to nail you. Pretty standard for Kev.”

“Is…is he gonna be mad if I say no?” She chewed her lip feeling nervous that she was going to be goaded into this regardless of how she felt. 

“I'm not gonna force you,” he smiled, but it fell as he saw the concern in her face, “baby, it was just a question. I never want you to do something you don't want to.” He walked over to her, “I just thought you might like it. But gotta say I like the idea of wanting just me,” he tried to corner her apprehension, “forget I said anything,”

Kevin wouldn't be heartbroken by a long shot. Scott was actually looking forward to bragging about what she said.

Training the next morning was slightly awkward at first while she tried to adjust to the different methods of Scott and Kevin’s teachings.

Scott could tell she was nervous around Kevin and that she'd gotten in her own head. It was likely why she got tangled in the ropes on a simple run and fell out of the ring. She landed awkwardly,  but luckily without injury. 

“Better be on your game a little more than this in the ring with us,” Kevin leaned over the top rope looking down at her as she lay across the mat, “You get lazy or sandbag me and I’ll give you a receipt you won’t forget,” He teased a little, but glanced at the healing dark ring around her arm. He felt bad for joking about hurting her for a moment.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know,” She lay flat on the floor with her arms and legs splayed, “I’d deserve it, too,” She sat up, pulling herself back into the ring, “Let’s go over when I get tagged in again. So Curt is going to keep from tagging me until I grab his hand and tag myself in. Push him out,” She mimicked kicking him with her foot, “And I’m going to lock up with Scott, right?”

“Right, if I happen to still be in, Scott will tag himself in acting like he really wants to get ahold of you.” Kevin rolled his eyes at the look that Brinkley and Scott exchanged. 

“Then you go low, I’ll bend over and you can hit me with a facebreaker or stunner if you’re feeling up to it,” Scott mimicked his moves and Brinkley walked through her options. 

“The stunner would be better…” She thought out loud, “Obviously,”

“I think it would make sense for you to go for quick covers a lot,” Kevin suggested, “After all, you’ll be the odd one out.”

“Should…should we go over this again when Curt gets down here?” She asked carefully, noticing a look shared between both of the men, “He is in the match, you guys…”

“I assume he’ll pull you out of the ring when we go for you. You probably won’t have a TON of actual skin to skin,” Scott guessed that WCW was not super into the idea of two men beating up a woman half their size, “He’ll probably tag himself in a lot,”

“As if he’s protecting me,” She rolled her eyes, knowing he would do exactly as they said. 

“That’s fuckin’ rich,” Scott scoffed, “Forget about that for now, lock up with me again,”

“Forget that, she was asking about chest chops earlier,” Kevin entered the ring again, grinning sinisterly.

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Brinkley was ecstatic to pick up her new gear the next day. She took Scott with her to the tailor, trying it on and modeling it for him. It was just sparkly enough. It had orange piping around the edges, and was a shiny purple fabric. She had two tops, one strappier and showier. Another was more like a sports bra, but of the same fabric. A fishnet crop top was included that could be worn under either. It was enough of a cover that with tape, she could wear it without her bruise showing.

She had a pair of black shorts that had purple and orange stripes on the waistband. Another pair was skimpier, letting a little backside cheek show. It also came with two pairs of fishnets to wear under the shorts. Lastly, a pair of long leggings that had mesh cutouts up and down both legs. 

Scott had an idea of what he thought she looked the best in, planning on suggesting it for their match at the pay per view. He paid for a pair of black wrestling boots to add to the outfit after she went back and forth about how her white boots would look. 

She held them happily in her lap, still giddy when they left. She kept thinking though, that Curt had paid for them. After a couple of days, her anger had lessened and she knew she would end up forgiving him. But she wasn’t sure things would ever go back to the way they were before. 

Maybe that was for the best. 

“Are you guys ever gonna forgive Curt?” She asked, riding along with Scott. He rarely drove anywhere, but he’d promised to chauffeur her around while she was there. It gave him an excuse to stay sober, though it was a struggle some days.

Scott frowned, looking at her arm then her face.

“Would it make you mad if I said yes?” He had forgiven guys for worse - just another part of being in the boys club. 

“Well…no, I guess it wouldn’t.” She said honestly, “I figure I can’t ice him out forever, either,”

“Well you have more of a reason. You can forgive him, but not be as close as you were,” Scott suggested, a little bit of a self-serving comment. 

“Do you think if I forgive him I’m just gonna jump on his dick again?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

“I think he may try to use sex to get close to you again. He may go around saying he’s not interested in anything with you, but I’m not sure how true that is,” Scott responded with his own honesty, “I mean…of all people, I can understand how he’d wanna get back in them britches,” He slightly teased.

“Britches? Ok, grandpa,” She teased back, earning a warning look from him.

“Just…I hope that you remember what you told me,” He turned serious for a moment, “That you wouldn’t be with him while we’re together,” He reminded her.

“I know, I won’t,” She covered Scott’s hand that lay on her thigh with her own. She thought about her verbal slip up earlier. She couldn’t do that to someone that she felt like this about. Curt wasn’t here in front of her, but she couldn’t imagine wanting to give herself to him like that ever again. 

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

She finished packing her suitcase, feeling a little melancholy over it. They were headed to Tampa this afternoon once Kevin arrived. It was where the tour picked back up. Kevin would be stopping by in a rental car to pick them up on his way. She’d wondered if Kevin and Scott had discussed the suggestion Scott had made the other evening. He’d spent the evening after their last training and work out at Scott’s place. 

She hadn’t answered Scott yet definitively, but she’d almost felt targeted during his visit. It could have just been that both were pretty inebriated. But, Kevin had eventually left after sobering up a bit and Scott had been the only man in the bed with her afterwards. He lasted twice as long, wearing her down to the state of a rag doll. 

Brinkley stretched her back and thigh muscles still sore from that marathon. She tried not to think about seeing Curt this afternoon. It made her nervous. Her arm looked much better, but there was still a discolored ring around where he’d grabbed her. She would need to wear tape and the mesh top if she wanted to try out the new gear. 

Tampa was not a long drive, but it was for the best since the longer the ride, the more her anxiety built. She wondered if Curt would be in their locker room. She wondered if anybody else knew what happened. She hoped not. She knew it would again, affect her reputation more than anyone else's. 

“Please, please, pleeeease, don’t make a scene,” She begged both of them, but looked at Scott as they made their way into the arena. They'd arrived earlier than most, so the activity was minimal. All available hands were likely setting up the ring and entrance ramps. He reached for her hand, holding it at his side as they walked in.

“I’ve got something I’m going to say to him alright,” Scott promised as Brinkley groaned a little, “But…only when its just me and him,” He followed. 

“Thank you,” that worry was quickly replaced by the realization that he was still holding her hand as they walked. She tried not to draw too much attention to it, but it made her stomach flutter a bit when they passed other people. 

She stayed close to Scott or Kevin at most times, letting Scott help tape her arm before she slipped on the fishnet sleeves. She paired the leggings with the strappy matching top. She decided to leave the most revealing pairing for the pay per view. 

“Sure you don’t want me to go with you?” He asked as she was finishing fixing her hair. Curt hadn’t shown his face in their locker room. He hadn’t expected him to; he wasn’t stupid.

“I’m sure,” Brinkley tried to reassure him, “It’s not like there won’t be people around. You’re still coming out to interfere right?” She smirked at him, knowing the next week or so would be a lot of that with one or both of them ‘torturing’ her in the build up to their match. 

“Wouldn’t miss it. Gonna be hard not to throw you over my shoulder when I leave,” He grabbed her ass through the skin tight leggings. 

“Save it for after the show ...then you can do whatever you want with me,” She pulled him down to whisper in his ear and nip at his lobe. He growled and pulled her against him. 

“I have half a mind to let that jackass walk out alone and go get really disrespectful with you in a closet somewhere,” He popped her ass, not caring too much if anyone around the corner of the locker room heard. 

“Promise?” She teased, stepping just out of his reach. There were more people in the locker room now as she left and some seemed to be hiding amused reactions. She had to assume she and Scott were now no longer quietly seeing each other. 

Brinkley felt her heart racing as she approached the dark tunnel of the gorilla and as expected, Curt was waiting. It felt awkward, neither of them speaking as they stood next to each other. Curt glanced at her wrapped arm, wondering if it looked any better yet. Once he looked away, Brinkley glanced back at him, noticing a cut on his face under his eye, butterfly strips holding it together.

“Oh my god, what happened??” She asked, looking at the injury. 

“Nothing,” He shook his head, “Ran into a door,” He fibbed. 

“Did you get in a fight?” She had to pull her hand back before it touched his face. 

“I wouldn’t call it much of a fight. More of like a sucker punch,” Curt recalled the fist that seemingly came from nowhere. 

Brinkley slowly realized what he meant. She remembered Kevin being late to the car when they left Omaha. 

“So…that’s because of me?” She shouldn’t have but she felt guilty.

“No.” Curt told her quickly, “This? Was because of me,” He had been pissed at first, but a few days of reflection had calmed him down, “I did it to myself, Brinkley,” He hoped that she hadn’t spent the week resenting him like he feared. The look of concern on her face brought him some relief. 

He enjoyed her valet performance, walking to ring more slowly than usual to soak as much of it in as he could. She interfered as if they’d never missed a beat. She and Curt had to pretend like they didn’t hear the crowd reacting when Scott and Kevin snuck down the ramp. They each went to either side of the ring, essentially trapping her between them as they approached. 

They toyed with her and teased her, nearly backing her against the ring post. Curt stepped through the ropes, attempting to block them, Kevin distracting him as Ray Traylor blindsided him for an upset finish. Scott tried to drag her away from ringside and she slapped him, the sound much worse than the sting, but the audience “oooh’d” over it. Just as he was about to grab for her again, Curt slid out of the ring and stood between them, warning them to get backstage.

He pretended to console her, enjoying whatever moments he could of closeness even if it was a facade. 

Back in the gorilla, he took his hands off of her, but she pulled him back, touching his cheek gently. It had started to bleed again.

“You’re bleeding, you should go to medical. It might need stitches,” She fussed a little over him. He took her hand from his cheek, kissing her palm before putting her hand back down. 

“Go on, I’m sure you have some people waiting on you,” Curt would hang around until she was gone. He didn’t need Scott evening things out on the other side of his face, “The new outfit looks amazing, by the way,” He called after her. She glanced back over her shoulder at him with a smile. 

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

Unsure if she should spend the money on her own room or find some other woman backstage to share with, Brinkley bunked up with Kevin and Scott after she was convinced that Kevin wasn’t bothered by it. 

Scott was accurate in saying it wouldn’t take long for Kevin’s pet anaconda to make an appearance. She was sure he liked being caught with it out. At 11 inches soft, she didn’t blame him, though it only convinced her she wanted nothing to do with that trouser snake. 

After a few days though, it began to feel like she and Scott were living together. She wasn’t getting enough sleep for a variety of reasons (though the main one left Scott with some sleepless nights as well) and though it took some mild convincing, Scott understood why she would want her own space, though occasionally he was sure he could convince her to stay with them. 

There was only one altercation out back of one bar where Scott and Curt stood toe to toe. Of course Brinkley was there, having been the reason Scott was there in the first place. Heated words were exchanged, though Curt’s were mostly apologetic and he took ownership of the situation. Scott had shoved him, but that's where it ended. Curt knew he would end up with a receipt over it in the ring and he was fine with it. 

Backstage, Brinkley had resumed talking with Curt on occasion - he was in their dressing room most of the time. Before a house show in Fort Lauderdale, they were the only two at the gym on a rainy, gloomy day. They had paired up and it felt like old times when Curt spotted her. Brinkley wondered if she missed him, or just missed her routine. 

“I can give you a ride,” Curt offered when she stopped at the gym’s front desk to call a cab to the arena. Everyone else had been nursing severe hangovers likely caused by whatever pill bottle was making its way through the crowd at the bar. She’d known better than to participate in that. 

Brinkley looked at him for a moment, pausing as she dialed. He could tell she was contemplating taking him up on the offer, but knew it would likely upset, at the very least, Scott.

“Are you sure?” She asked, already laying the phone handset down, “Are you going to the arena now?”

“Well, I can. Thought I might grab something to eat,” He shrugged, “But I can drop you off if you want.”

Brinkley thought a moment more before letting go of the phone completely and grabbing her bag.

“I could eat…” She admitted as she walked past him. 

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 20

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 20 of 22 (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 2228

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

Taglist: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (DM or comment to be added!)

Brinkley wondered if her rules would end up torturing her as much as they might Scott. 

But he never complained.  He never crossed the line,  though the look in his eyes betrayed his actions a few times. Especially as they lay in bed.  They talked,  but the space between them seemed cavernous. She realized she always curled up to him as if she was his little kitten. 

She hated it. She resented the fact that he'd caused this. But he was trying and she couldn't hold that against him. 

The taping the night before and the house show that evening were in areas around Orlando, but the pay-per-view was in the heart of the city.  Though she was feeling confident about her moves, she asked her opponent to practice ahead of time in the gym.

Scott drove her, but everyone else staying at the house came along to workout on the equipment. She asked Scott and Curt to not stand by at ringside. 

She wanted to rely on herself. Scott didn't argue, but she could tell Curt wanted to when she told him that Scott wouldn't be either. She could throw his own words back in his face,  but he backed down before she had to. 

Madusa was stoked to practice for an actual match that didn't include some sexist lingerie theme. They worked for a solid two hours,  both she and Brinkley gassed at that point.  Each bump was very real,  every move was run at full speed.

Brinkley knew she was in pretty good shape,  but she was going to need to get even better if she wanted to play the game at this level. 

They should have called the practice there,  but Brinkley was adamant that they run one more series. She was supposed to go over the top rope after being hit with an arm bar and land on the edge of the apron, grab her opponent and pull her head down on the top rope while jumping down to the ground. Essentially Madusa would sell by popping up and falling backwards into the ring. 

Brinkley took the arm bar, but her foot twisted and caught the second rope as she started to fall over. She still toppled over the first rope, but it only twisted with the second, trapping her leg tightly between them. These ropes were more tightly wound than the ones she was used to and much less forgiving.

She immediately yelped as the ropes pulled at her skin, but also squeezed it tightly. She hung upside down, her full body weight pulling down on her leg as well,  twisting only put more pressure on her knee and ankle. Her core was already tired from practice making it nearly impossible to bend upwards. Trying to hold her top half up was proving to be too exhausting.

“Shit!” Madusa cursed loudly, trying to get her hands in a position to pull apart the ropes, but it proved to be fruitless, the tension in them too great, “stay calm I'll get somebody,  just stay calm,” she said in such an agitated way that calmness was anything but guaranteed.

Brinkley tried to keep her head up,  she was feeling dizzy when her head would hang too low,  but the pain in her leg made her keep trying to sit up. Her hands held the ropes for a moment,  trying desperately to separate them. She could feel the blood flow cutting off and she was worried that her ankle or knee may go soon. 

Just as her head started to feel too dizzy to think, she felt a pair of arms under her back, lifting her up, higher until the pressure was off of her leg. She kept her eyes closed, trying not to let nausea get the better of her. The ropes were loosened and her leg fell from it, caught by another pair of hands from falling limply. She felt a concern over whether or not she was really injured, but the feeling in her body at the moment was unusual. The adrenaline was possibly masking what pain there might be.

“Brinkley? C’mon girl, wake up,” She heard voices talking to her, but she still felt dazed. She opened her eyes after someone slapped her face firmly a few times. 

“There she is,” The voice said from above her. She realized her head was resting in their lap. The rest of her was laying on the edge of the ring and a group was surrounding her. She tried to sit up out of motivation to not seem weak, but her shoulders were held down a little, “Easy there, just give it a few minutes,” She recognized the voice now, her senses returning. 

“I don’t think I broke anything,” She tried to lift her head to look down at her leg. She was able to lift it now, though it burned with a thousand pins and needles from where her circulation was returning. Her head fell back to the thigh she was resting against, “Did I?” she asked looking upwards.

Scott smirked back down at her, but Curt answered. 

“Hell no, you didn’t break anything you whiner,” He nudged her leg, still feeling relief flood him. He’d seen some pretty gruesome injuries when it came to ropes. She was lucky she didn’t tear something or dislocate it. He tried not to think of the time he was caught by the neck between two ropes. His life had flashed before his eyes a little - he relived it every time something happened with the ropes like this.

“I’m not whining,” She defended herself, “Am I?” she looked up at Scott. 

“Nah, not at all, I’ve heard Hennig whine more than anyone else,” He left his hands from where they held her shoulders down, but found himself wishing he could stroke her head, hold her hand. But, he didn’t want to press his luck. Gentle laughter flowed through the small crowd of onlookers, “Alright, show’s over,” Scott tried to scatter them, watching the red welt on her leg. 

“Thanks for rescuing me,” She mumbled, her hand reaching up to where his rested, stroking his fingers, “Sorry that I got myself into that…”

“Girl, coulda happened to literally anyone,” Curt still looked over her leg, not seeing any obvious injury other than the fact that she would have yet another bruise, “You did take a spill, I think you might have hit your head,” He looked up at Scott. A concussion would not fare well. 

“I don’t think so,” She tried to remember the flurry of events, but reached up to feel her scalp. She didn’t feel any bumps or soreness, “I was just dizzy from hanging upside down.” she reasoned. She tried sitting up slowly, letting Scott help her as Curt held her legs to keep them from swinging too much on the way down. 

“I think you should take the night off,” Scott suggested, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing that she wouldn’t like that suggestion.

“I thought you said we don’t get sick days,” She looked between both men, “Remember? ‘Not unless you’re completely incapacitated’” She recalled their flippant attitude when Curt was sick. 

“Sick and injured are two different things,” Curt tried to keep himself from worrying about her. That was her job now and Scott was there for anything she might miss, “You’ve got a bigger match to think about tomorrow,” He referenced the pay per view, “Let us worry about tonight…it’s a house show, they won’t miss us,”

“Us?” She questioned, “Last I checked, I’m the hurt one….you two are perfectly healthy,” She teased, her awareness returning to her, “And look…” she moved her leg around a bit, “I'm not hurt, really.”

“Jesus,  just take the night off, Scott can make sure you get some rest. Focus on tomorrow like your career depends on it,” Curt was no longer interested in arguing, walking away with what he was hoping was the final say, “You know what I mean,” he said without looking back but knowing she was getting ready to say something smart.

“It's not as fun when I don't get to talk back,” she pouted a little, “I'm the one who had the traumatic event,”

“Traumatic event?” Scott looked at her skeptically, “Didn't you just say you weren't even hurt?” He couldn't help but smirk at her devilish ornery look on her face. She was definitely a little troublemaker, which was probably one of the qualities that attracted him in the first place. Something they had bonded over. He’d been known to cause plenty of trouble himself. His smirk fell when he though of the most recent trouble he’d caused. 

“I mean…I might be emotionally scarred,” She countered, “What if I develop a fear of ropes?” She grabbed the one her back was leaning against and shook it a little. 

“Then I guess you’ll just have to stay out on the floor.” Scott shrugged as he sarcastically suggested scenarios he knew she’d hate, “Or stay backstage, I’m sure we can find a job for you. Hey, we could always use a costume mistress,” He teased

“Sounds like a dream,” She returned his sarcasm with her own, “just a never ending parade of naked dudes in and out of my office,” 

“I don’t think you-” Scott started to correct her.

“No no, its my dream, don’t ruin it,” She warned, “I’ve had a bad day, remember,” She leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. Scotts smile returned as he felt her rest against him. It was a relief. Even more so when she took his hand and lifted his arm around her back. He squeezed her to him a little, “I was a little scared…”

“I don’t blame you, Brink, guys have really hurt themselves that way,” He rubbed her arm with his hand, “I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get to you sooner,”

“Well,” She felt nothing but comfort with the way he consoled her, “You’re here now,” She didn’t feel the fear or distrust and maybe it was foolish of her to forgive him so quickly, but she wanted to, “Why don’t you take me home?” 

“Home?” He asked, feeling close to her for the first time in a couple of days, “Absolutely,” 

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Brinkley wasn’t very talkative on the ride back to Scott’s, knowing that the house would be empty with everyone else out for the day. She was fine with that. She could feel a prickling electricity building between herself and Scott and she was thrilled by it. The spark was still there,it had only been temporarily diminished. 

Brinkley ever so slightly limped from the lingering soreness, hoping it would wear off before the big show tomorrow. She looked down at the welt as they walked inside, knowing it would still have a mark by show time. She’d hoped to wear the super short trunks, but was glad she had the leggings with the cutouts. She’d have to thank Curt for suggesting adding that option. 

“I can get you something for the pain…” He offered, carrying her bag in the house. 

“Nah, that stuff makes me feel weird,” She recalled the haze of the somas that Kevin had given her. 

“You’ve taken it before?” He looked at her with some surprise. He usually knew who was on what and as far as anyone else, including Curt, knew, she was completely clean. 

“Well… just a couple times,” She replied sheepishly, “When my arm was hurt,”

“Oh yeah?” He immediately remembered how helpful Kevin had been around that time. It wasn’t hard to assume that’s where she’d obtained them.

“Kev gave them to me,” She felt weird telling Scott about another man given her drugs, but he didn’t seem surprised at all, “Felt like I could trust him…”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Big Kev,” Scott laughed a little, “But…if you need anything in the future, just ask me and I’ll take care of it for you,” He set her bag down as she followed him into the kitchen, “At least take this…it’s just tylenol.” He handed her two white pills. She amiably agreed, taking them. 

“I was thinking of something that I might need you to give me,” She said as he turned back to put the bottle in the cabinet. He felt a chill go up his spine at her mildly suggestive tone. He could have been misreading it, so he kept his response calm and collected. 

“Yeah? And what is it you need me to give you?” He turned around to see a hint of a suggestive playfulness in her eye. He crossed his arms, looking at her curiously.

“A bath.” Though she was the one suggesting it, she still blushed a little, “I had a good workout today…probably pretty dirty,” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, looking her over, reading her body language and watching her eyes flicker between sultry and hopeful. He could sense a bit of nervousness, too. He couldn’t blame her for that. But he wanted more than anything to prove to her that she didn’t need to worry about him ever again.

“I think that can be arranged,” He finally answered her, already seeing excitement replacing the nervousness, “You can be an awfully dirty, girl, probably need to clean you up good,”

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 19

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 19 of 22 (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 3835

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Taglist: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (DM or comment to be added!)

Brinkley stopped in her tracks, surprised by Scott's voice. She felt nervous, knowing how this must've looked to Scott. She wasn't sure how much she cared if it hurt him or not,  remembering his degrading treatment.

“Nothing.” She stated simply, “I needed someone to talk to. Curt was kind enough to listen,” she spoke confidently,  though she felt so much smaller than him as he took a step toward her. 

Curt did not move from behind her,  but was ready to step in if she needed him. He tried to remain visually neutral.

“Did you sleep with him?” Scott accused through gritted teeth.

“Did we sleep in the same room?  Yes. Was he a friend when I needed it? Yes. But if you're asking if we fucked? No, Scott, we didn't. And I can't tell you how much I appreciate you not waiting to talk to me about this in private, just in case anyone else in the house wanted to know.” The more she spoke the angrier she got, the more bold she got, the louder she got. Her confidence seemed to crack Scott’s exterior a little, “Hell, maybe I should have if you're gonna think I did anyway,”

The last words made Curt feel uncomfortable and Scott noticed. His memory from the night before was fuzzy,  but he recalled being angry with her,  he was just unsure why. 

“Brinkley…I'm sorry,  you gotta know how it looks to me,” Scott took another step toward her. 

“I can understand how it looks.  But I'm telling you what happened. Believe me, don't believe me.  I really don't care.” She rolled her eyes and walked past him into the room, feeling more emboldened by the second. 

Curt was shocked at her gall, exchanging surprised looks with Scott.

A few moments later,  Scott followed Brinkley into his room, the chair in his room triggering a memory from last night.

“Are you mad at me about something?” Scott was the one lacking confidence now,  sitting on the edge of the freshly stripped mattress.

“Why would I be mad?” She vollied back with an iciness in her tone.

“Obviously, I upset you. I was hoping you might help me remember why,” he kept his tone even, not used to her not being putty in his hands. 

“Oh did you forget? Did you get wasted and forget what happened?” She spat at him as she spun around from pulling clothes out of her suitcase, “isn't that convenient,” she stalked to the bathroom.  She'd be damned if she let him see her naked at this point. 

Scott had never seen her like this.  He had to admit,  she was even more attractive when she was assertive,  but he felt like something bigger than he realized must've happened. He walked over to the closed bathroom door.

“Brinkley,” he knocked gently, “please talk to me. Tell me what I did. Can I at least try to make it right?” He was met with silence on the other side of the door. He leaned back against the frame as another fuzzy memory filtered through his mind. 

He remembered throwing her over the chair. He remembered the look in her eyes,  slightly fearful of him.  It made his stomach turn now. He remembered demanding she call him ‘daddy’ and how timidly she responded. 

He remembered saying he owned her. 

He remembered how coldly he'd treated her after.  Leaving her sitting there,  still naked without a kind word or touch. He could understand her being upset.  He wondered how much she'd confided in Curt.

It wouldn’t have been the worst thing he’d ever done when drunk. At least she didn’t tell him no and he’d ignored her. He hoped that was the case at least. 

She opened the door and walked right by him without a look. 

“I think I know why you're mad,” he took a couple steps in her direction,  rubbing his palms together nervously, “Last night was kind of a blur,”

“Aw, do you remember now? Did you have a rough night? Poor baby,” she feigned concern, roughly packing her clothes away.

Scott felt himself break out in a cold sweat.  He'd never known Brinkley to be this upset. He couldn't very well blame her, but he was feeling more and more desperately hopeful she'd let him try to fix it. 

“Did…did I force you?” He asked,  bracing himself for a verbal and perhaps physical onslaught. Hearing no response initially,  he carefully looked toward her. The betrayal in her face felt like a gut punch. 

“Not entirely. But I'm not sure if I only said yes because I was worried my consent didn't matter,” she answered honestly, “I've never been treated like that,  Scott. And I can't do anything about your hangups with me and Curt. But it wasn't like I lied about it,  you knew all about us. And I feel like you're punishing me for something I can't change,” she tried not to ramble but so much was building up behind her frustration.

“I'm sorry that I scared you,” he responded gently.  

His tone surprisingly angered her.  How could he be so considerate and understanding now when last night he was so cruel and unforgiving?

“I'm not the most stable guy,  Brink, I don't think that's any big secret…but I think the pressure of hiding it got to me. And that's still on me.  Not you.” He cleared his throat.

His calmness was nearly infuriating. She wished she didn't feel such ire, but she knew she was justified. 

“I don't know if I ever want you to touch me again,” she said flatly, but had to look away from him,  unable to cope with the vulnerable look in his eyes.

Scott felt dread wash over him.  He'd kept telling himself that it was too good to be true,  that it'd fall apart like everything else. He'd wished the opposite, but couldn't deny that he architected that exact reality to perfection.

“I'm really sorry you feel that way.  I would like to try to make it right,  if I can.  If you'd let me try.” He felt the sting of hypocrisy,  having pledged to nearly kill Curt and he'd only grabbed her arm. He was feeling a bit of desperation in salvaging what he could of their relationship.

He felt his heart aching and he knew he'd loved her for far longer than he'd allowed himself to admit. 

“I just…I don't know,  Scott. I'm really…I'm just so…so mad at you!  And at myself for still being here having this conversation with you instead of walking out and getting as far away from you as I can. And I can't do that because I feel like it's going to literally rip my fucking heart out of my chest,” the last words drawing streams of tears down her cheeks. She was desperate for him to comfort her but knew she shouldn't let him. 

“Brinkley…” his own voice cracked and she looked at him,  his own eyes bloodshot as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “Please don't give up on me yet,”

Though tears blurred her vision, she could really see him. He was not a man 20 years her senior, he was just a man.  She wasn't the young,  inexperienced girl,  she was just a woman.  She felt as if for once they were equal.

“Scott,” she shook her head, going against her better sense, “I want to trust you again…but I just don't know how,”

Scott felt a surge of hope,  all he needed was a chance from her. 

“You don't have to do anything. Just let me try,” he hoped to assure her. 

“But you have to let this thing with Curt go.  He's my best friend.  I know things were weird for a while,  but I’m not going to stop being his friend,.” She added a stipulation, knowing that making Curt a forbidden fruit would only inflame her hunger. 

“I can work on that,” he assured her, “I just ask that you be honest with me in return.” He didn't intend to disallow anything if she'd just agree to stay. 

“I've always been honest with you, Scott,” she reminded him. He nodded,  scrunching his forehead and he looked downward. She had been, almost to a fault.

“I know you said I can't touch you.  I respect that.  But…can I at least hold you for just a little bit, just for now?” He asked,  hating the pleading tone that he tried to mask. 

Brinkley knew she should say no,  but she was still pining for the embrace she was denied the night before. She nodded,  trying not to sob as he cleared the space between them, quickly pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her. 

“Baby,  I am so sorry,  I'm such an idiot,” he felt her shaking against him. He could only hope it was anything but fear.

She gripped into the front of his shirt,  her fingers curling into the fabric. She felt comforted against his firm chest, by his scent. She knew feeling this way was absurd. But she didn't have the energy to be logical. 

“Are you alright? If I hurt you please tell me,” he begged,  wishing he never had to let go. 

“You didn't. Not physically…” she mumbled against him. In her mind,  she wanted to pull away from him just enough to kiss him and let him apologize with his body,  but she couldn't let herself.  

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

The locker room was tense that evening, though they all did well enough to remain professional. No one else could quite put their finger on it,  but other than Kevin and Page, the three of them were the only ones who knew that anything was different.

Curt was relieved tonight wasn't a full match.  It was against a fill-in jobber, but would be interrupted by a run in. He wasn't sure if he had a whole match in him anyway. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked Brinkley as they arrived near the staging area early. 

She shrugged, looking as gorgeous as ever but he could tell she was tired. 

“You pretty much know the gist of it,” she rotated her head around her neck,  trying to stretch her tense muscles, “I just don't know what to do,”

“You think I'm going to tell you what to do?” He had to smirk, “You know I can't do that anymore…girl,  you gotta figure this out on your own,” he looked remorseful that might have sounded cold, “as much as I wish I could help you,” 

“Just marry me and let's run off to the woods together,” she joked out loud the silly fantasy she used to imagine when she was still sleeping in his guest room. 

“In another life,  I'd take you up on that,” he replied honestly, “But in this life…not in the cards,”

“I know.” She followed him into the gorilla curtain.

“I want you to know,” he said, his hands holding her face gently in the private, dark space, “regardless of whatever else, I'm really proud of you,  Brinkley,” he could feel her smile against his palm, dropping his hands to let her walk out first. She wasn't even phased by the cameras anymore, he noticed. In fact,  she seemed to enjoy it. 

Brinkley hadn’t talked to Scott at all since leaving the embrace that morning. She didn’t know what else to say to him and making small talk felt pointless. Her hand had felt so bare walking in without him holding it, but so far he’d respected her demands. 

As he stalked out to the ring, for once without Kevin, she let her very real nerves show themselves, putting their tense situation to good use. She cut him off at the bottom of the ramp, blocking him from interfering. Scott grinned, his signature cocky smile on full display. It turned her on and she hated it, she let that hate burn through her. 

“You better step back,” She loudly announced. 

“What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Stop me?” He trivialized her position, “Hennig too chicken shit to fight his own battles? Gotta send in a girl to do a man’s job?” 

“Nope, I just take care of all the light work for him,” She criticized him back, pretending to yawn. 

Scott pretended to take a deep offense to her words, pinning her against the side of the ring with a hand on either side of the apron. He was as close to her as he could get without touching her, staring her down intensely. She didn’t have to fake the heavy rise and fall of her chest. She tried her best to keep animosity in her eyes instead of desire. 

Scott’s face only changed as Curt leaned over the ropes and grabbed a handful of his black hair and pulled him into the ring. She watched as Scott was pulled upwards right in front of her. She slapped the ring, supporting Curt as he held the upper hand against Scott. 

She thought of how cathartic it felt to let kayfabe allow her to vent her frustrations. She had to wonder if all the drama in the locker room was easily squashed because they could act out what they wanted in front of the camera and forgive and forget backstage. 

But this wasn’t typical backstage politics. It was much more. 

With his attention on Scott, the opponent took the opportunity to roll up Curt for a two count, broken up by Brinkley’s interference. The referee called for the bell, ending the match in a disqualification. 

Brinkley left Scott in the ring, not looking back as she helped Curt backstage. She wasn’t going to wait for him by the staging area either, but Curt encouraged her to. 

“Don’t kick a man while he’s down,” He gently suggested, “He got a couple receipts out there,” 

Brinkley was ready to argue, but saw Scott holding his cheek as he emerged from behind the black curtains. She hated that she wanted to help him. 

“I’ll find some ice,” She offered, but not warmly at all. She found an ice machine and a towel, wrapping ice in it, remembering the night at Lex’s house where she’d done the same. She’d pulled him outside and doctored him the best she could. She remembered the things he’d said and the memory alone made her shiver. 

She didn’t hurry back to the locker room, walking casually and not taking the most efficient route either. But as she returned to the locker room, Curt motioned towards the bathroom. She pushed the door in, seeing Scott leaning forward across the sink, examining the swollen bump under his eye. He saw her in the reflection, looking relieved. 

“I brought this for you,” She held up the towel of ice and walked toward him. 

“Thank you, that was really thoughtful,” He seemed genuinely appreciative, but didn’t reach out for it, hoping she’d doctor him like she had before. She seemed to contemplate her options for a moment, but did walk up to him, placing the chilled fabric against his cheek.

“You have to stop letting people punch you in the face,” She joked without a smile, pressing slightly to combat the swelling. 

“Maybe I should stop doing things that make people want to punch me in the face,” He countered with self depreciation. He could see the corner of her mouth fighting a smirk, “You did really well out there tonight,” He complimented her. 

“It’s easy for me when I’m working with really talented people,” She admitted, sitting on the edge of the counter as she continued to hold the ice to his face, “You guys do most of the work,” she shrugged. 

“But we don’t carry you like we’ve had to some broads. You’re up there with Sherri, I think anyway,”

“I know you’re just trying to earn brownie points,” She tried to brush off his compliment, “I still want to be mad at you, though,” 

“I deserve it,” he turned to face her fully, his legs so nearly touching hers, but he didn’t close the gap, “I want you to be mad at me,” 

“You do not. You want me to forgive you and fall into your arms so you can have your own personal sex slave back,” She didn’t feel like mincing words at the moment and if she wanted to feel heard, she would have to say what she felt. 

“My what?” He looked at her, confused, “My own personal…what?”

She just scowled back at him, refusing to repeat it, “We both know it's true…” She mumbled, “You just proved it last night, that’s all,”

“But it's not true,” He said more firmly than he meant. He got her attention, her eyes flickering up to his immediately. He didn’t want to be demanding and reinforce any negative thoughts she had about him - but he couldn’t let her trivialize what he felt, “That’s not true at all,” 

“Are you sure about that?” She countered, “You know what the road does. It's like this insulated little separate reality. Were you really planning on introducing me to your family? Your girlfriend who’s half your age?” 

“Maybe…but we’ve only been together a few weeks, baby girl,” He thought better of the term only after he said it. She glared at him a little, but did not correct him, “If I wasn’t serious about you, I wouldn’t have brought up dating. And then told people about it.”

“Well last night really made me wonder,” She could feel an ache in her throat, but she swallowed it, “Made me feel like I was nothing but a kinky play toy for you that you could just use and dispose of as you pleased,”

“Well…sometimes sex isn’t always gentle and sweet…” He instinctively tried to defend himself, realizing it sounded bad as soon as he said it.

“I’m fully aware of that,” She snapped at him, pressing the ice too firmly making him wince. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “You really should work on not making people want to punch you in the face… “I know that it can be dirty and mean and fast and slow and everything in between. But I at least want to be in on the idea…” She wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted. She could see herself agreeing to let Scott be that rough, hell even demeaning as long as afterwards he treated her well. Or at least like a human being, “I’d probably role play anything you wanted if you’d just ask me first,”

Scott nodded, willing every gross thought in his mind to keep himself from being aroused. 

“I understand. And I can do that from now on,” He agreed quickly, “If there’s still a now on for us…” He asked carefully. 

She was quiet as she looked away from his gaze again. Would she really leave him and end it? Was what happened really that bad or just a misunderstanding? Will they ever be able to really trust each other when their first time was a trick threesome? 

“Scott…” She started, her thoughts jumbling into an overbearing din, “Do you really even want me?” She asked.

“Are you serious?” He asked genuinely, “I have been literally sick to my stomach all day. There have been women in my life that I really liked having around, but the second they weren’t, I couldn’t have cared less. I’m not always the greatest guy - but the thought of not being with you? I can’t even think about it, Brinkley,” He looked at her with such honesty and sincerity that she could barely stand it, “I don’t know when, how, why it happened, but you got in here,” He tapped his chest with the inside of a closed fist, “I never said it - but I felt it. I know that’s a pretty bullshit thing to say…”

“Just a little,” She interjected. 

“But I didn’t want to tell you that and just lose you anyway. Women usually realize what a fuck up I am and take off. Can’t say I didn’t give you the perfect example,” he shrugged.

“I’m not really interested in who you were with other women. It doesn’t pertain to right now,” She said with a wisdom that made him feel foolish, “Just like your mistakes with them don’t either,” 

He felt panic in his gut, wondering if she was going to cut him loose. 

“Don't make me suffer because of your past when I want to be in your future…” Brinkley slipped her free hand in his as it hung at his side. Her touch startled him,  but he squeezed gently. 

Relief flooded him so profoundly he almost felt sick to his stomach all over again.   

“But,” she wasn't sure her caveat would be well received, “both times I've had problems…you guys have been drinking,” she didn't think they'd ever stop completely.  How could they, being on the road like this?

“You're right,” his will was there,  but he knew it would crumble without much pressure.

“I'm not going to ask you to stop,” she quickly interjected again,  “but I need you to understand that I might not be able to trust you for a while…if you're drinking,”

“What about when I'm sober?” He questioned,  his thumb stroking the top of her hand. 

“I don't know yet,” she mumbled as she shrugged, “I don't have an answer for that,”

“What about right now?” He asked,  his voice softer and lower. The tone made her look back to him, “Do you trust me now?”

She knew he wanted to touch her and more than just her hand. She knew he wanted to relay his apology physically. But he was resisting. She wondered how much he was holding back. 

“I do,” she said,  glancing at their joined hands. 

“Will you come home with me tonight?” He carefully asked.

“What if I say yes, but I sleep in Curt's room?” As she asked,  she felt cruel, but didn't apologize.

“You are free to do what you please” he said,  the idea crushing him, “I just ask…if you're going to be with me to be honest…”

“You don't own me?” She postured now,  remembering how he made her repeat that. 

“No,  not at all,” the memory of his drunken words haunted him, “I don't want to own you.  I just want to be with you,”

Brinkley looked into his eyes, thinking for a few moments before answering. 

“I'll come home with you. I'll sleep with you.  But the rest of the terms stay the same for now.  I need you to respect my boundaries. No touching and I want privacy,” she laid out her rules, knowing they were the opposite of what he wanted. 

“I understand, you'll have whatever you need. We can even change the match if you don't want me touching you,” he offered.

“Well,” she smirked a little,  “I don't think we need to go that far…”

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 18

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 18 of 22 (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 4711

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Taglist: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (DM or comment to be added!)

Eventually worried that if she didn't make an appearance, Scott may return to look for her even more drunk, Brinkley did get dressed.  She chose a black v-neck halter top and short white shorts.  She put half her hair up and added some dangly earrings that she couldn't wear in the ring for fear of them being ripped out. Maybe if she looked good, Scott might forget he was upset. If even for a moment. 

By the time she made it downstairs, the party was in full swing and she was able to slip through the crowds relatively unnoticed. That was at least until she made it to the kitchen when a very inebriated and very loud Steve Borden announced her arrival with a Sting-esque howl.

“Jesus, I think half the county heard you,” she walked over to where he stood next to the counter, recognizing the setup for beer pong. She noticed Curt on the other end of the counter, spinning a ping pong ball in his hand. She knew he was uncannily good at these kinds of skill games and he was likely not as wasted as Steve.

Brinkley noticed him smirking the way only a shark would before annihilating the competition. 

“We're short, wanna play?” Rick asked from the other side. 

“Depends…” She barely managed to save an empty beer bottle from crashing to the floor as Steve bumped into it,  “Who's team needs a player?” 

Now both Rick and Curt smiled,  pointing to Steve. He never partied with them much so his tolerance was clearly minimal.

“Well that hardly seems fair…” she stood with her hands on her hips, watching Steve sway in place now,  “But fine. We're starting over though…” she motioned to the two cups already missing from the end in front of her,  “I’m not playing a pickup game,”

“Fair is fair,” Bryan Adams filled two red plastic cups 2/3rds full, “This is where the big boys play,  no wimpy shot cups here,” he arranged them in the typical ‘V’ pattern.

“Any terms?” Brinkley asked, taking the ping pong balls from Page.

“Hmm, terms. I guess we should set a wager,” Curt stroked his chin in sarcastic thought. Of course his mind spun through a litany of erotic suggestions, but that was only a selfish fantasy. He didn't want to degrade her like that in front of the guys. 

Brinkley could only imagine what ideas he was thinking of,  looking at Rick, he wasn't thinking much. Steve was useless. 

“How about…winning team picks one from the loser team to go jump into the pool,” she suggested. Both Curt and Rick seemed to mull the idea over,  “Naked” she added. 

“FUCKING YES! THAT!” Rick slapped his hand on the counter.

“You better think that shit through,” Page nudged her with his elbow, “Hennig is one competitive mother fucker,” 

She made eye contact with him from across the counter. 

“Oh, I know,” she smirked, “So? Do we agree on the wager?” She knew by Curt's shit eating grin that he agreed.

She looked around, not seeing Scott or Kevin anywhere.

“If you're looking for Hall, I'm pretty sure he and Kev are outside blazin’ it up,” Page said, noticing she was looking around.  

“Well, I figured he was around here somewhere,” she shrugged, turning back to the game, “Ladies first?” She postured to the opposition. Hearing no argument,  she took her first shot,  landing it in the front cup. She pointed at Curt who chugged the cup and spit the ball back to them. 

There was a decent crowd that built watching them. The game was going quickly, but only she and Curt were landing them. They switched off having Brinkley and Steve chug the beers; it only took two for Steve to find his place on the floor.

Down to only one last cup on each end, Brinkley was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, though she tried to play it off. She knew Curt probably knew her well enough to know though.  It was his turn.  As he lined up his shot, she leaned her arms on the counter behind the cup, letting the counter amplify her cleavage in a shameless attempt at a distraction. 

Too bad Rick wasn't throwing, he was definitely glassy eyed and drooling. 

Curt cocked his eyebrow at her,  feeling that Scott may very well come through on his promise to lay him out if he ever touched her again if he were to walk through right at this moment.  He tossed the ball and it hit the lip and skittered off to the side.  He was a little stunned that he missed,  but he didn't have long to wonder what happened as she sailed one back toward him right into the lone back corner cup in front of him. 

Cheers erupted and she shrugged at him,  pointing at Rick to chug the last one. 

“Hope you feel like swimming, Ricky,” she said aloud, but was staring Curt down still. 

“Aw, Hell!” Rick cursed, but didn't seem to be too bothered as he was already stripping on his way to the back door. The crowd followed him as he went outside and took a Tarzan worthy leap into the very occupied pool completely naked. 

Brinkley and Curt watched from the kitchen window. 

“Well…I was gonna say he could keep his underwear on…but he doesn't seem to mind,” the pool emptied a little as Rick floated front-side up in the water,  blatantly showing off everything.

“Not me,” Curt took a swig, smirking as Brinkley raised her eyebrows at him, “I'd have made ‘ol Stinger jump in stark ass naked,” 

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

Scott watched from the kitchen doorway as Brinkley laughed at something Curt had said.  She had no business looking as hot as she did in that outfit. Damn,  if he wasn't ready to fuck her again. 

“Hey,  there you are,” Kev came down the hallway, seeing Scott lurking near the kitchen.  He saw right away what had Scott's attention. It looked innocent enough,  but he also knew Scott had been in a mood tonight. When Page joined in on Curt and Brinkley's conversation, it seemed even more innocuous. 

Brinkley noticed Scott and Kevin first, feeling anxiousness twist in her belly.  She ignored it,  smiling and walking over to Scott.

“Finally! Where have you two been hiding?” She tried to keep the tone light,  still seeing that darkness stewing in Scott. But, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. 

“Just enjoying the festivities,” Scott kissed the top of her head,  before taking a long swig of beer, “Why don't we go somewhere quieter?” He mumbled to her. 

Brinkley was enjoying being against his body,  pretending that their interaction earlier hadn't happened.  But now, she felt fearful that it might happen again and potentially even worse. 

“But what about all your guests?” She kept her tone light and positive, pleading with Kevin silently, “We can go upstairs later…” she suggested, hoping he would be passed out long before then. 

“C'mon man,  let's head back outside, I could definitely use another ‘j’,” Kevin nodded towards the front door, encouraging Scott to follow. 

“What, don’t want me anymore?” Scott ignored Kevin’s suggestion as he looked down at her. Brinkley frowned a little. 

“Of course I do, just need a little time to recover after the last time,” She said, playfulness returning to her tone. Kevin rolled his eyes, but she was relieved that Scott smirked slightly, squeezing her against him a little more tightly, his hand grabbing her backside possessively.  

He followed Kevin back outside, leaving Brinkley in the kitchen. She breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the door jam. Curt walked over,  having only guessed what happened. He nudged her into the privacy of the hallway as he walked by. 

“That looked...interesting,” he struggled to find the right word for it, “Everything OK with you two?”

“Fine.  Why?” She asked,  taking the beer he opened for her. 

“Well, just seemed a little tense,” He shrugged, “And because I know when you're lying to me,” he challenged her. 

She looked at him, irritated. 

“Well…if you must know…things are a little weird today.  And I  don't know what's wrong with him.  He just kinda…flipped a switch or something.” She shrugged, “Probably just all the alcohol,  right?” She gave a weak excuse.

“Could be,” He was more than curious about what made her feel that way, “But, I'm headed up to bed,” he needed to get out of the habit of telling her what to do,  though he was dying to suggest she give Scott his space and take a break, “see if things are better in the morning…”

She offered him a smile as she nodded, waving as he headed upstairs. Another beer or two and she'd forget that for the briefest moment,  she considered following. 

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

The party was slowly winding down, but far from over.  These boys had stamina. Just because some of their brethren were passed out, didn't mean the good times stopped.  In fact, it only invigorated them as they schemed on a slew of potential ribs. 

Brinkley laughed as they slurred through sloppy suggestions. Though a little too drunk herself at this point, she tried to sideline anything too dangerous. She knew at least one person’s eyebrows were in danger. As she began to feel more and more drowsy, she knew hers were at risk as much as anybody’s. She made a pass through the house, unable to wake Scott from his couch coma, Kevin slumped against him. She didn't try very hard,  not very keen on the idea of sharing a bed with him tonight after what happened in the bedroom. 

She couldn't do much about their predicament, leaving to go to the thankfully empty master bedroom. She was sure the other spare rooms were likely occupied with people in various states of dress.  She'd definitely remembered seeing Bret sneak off with some lady she'd never seen before.  

She chugged one bottle of ice cold water as she went upstairs, bringing another to combat her likely morning cottonmouth. She locked the door behind her,  knowing it was a weak defense, though no one really had the coordination to stick a paperclip in the release mechanism. That is if they didn’t just kick it down instead. She relaxed completely in the space by herself.  She stumbled over her own feet a little as she went to grab her pajamas. That new silky set Scott had bought for her sounded exquisite, but she only found the shorts, settling on them with a white tank top she found next to them. 

She didn't bother turning on the bedside lamp, feeling more drowsy now.  She pulled back the covers just enough to slide into them. 

The slick, cold, mushy feeling against her legs was startling and slightly sobering as she leapt out of the bed with a squeal.

“What the fuck?!?” She exclaimed, looking down at her legs covered in some sort of creamy, sticky substance, “this better not be the fucking jizz of 50 guys….” She blurted aloud, now grossed out and gagging at the thought of that covering her legs.  She reached over her head to flip the light on,  minorly relieved that it looked too thick to be semen. The smell of cocoa butter started to waft up to her nose and she timidly touched where it was caked against her thigh. This was definitely sunscreen. Another part is her leg had something far fluffier. Shaving cream.  

She stood, trying not to get anything else on the carpet and pulled back the comforter. The entire king bed was covered in at least an inch of sunscreen with at least a couple cans of shaving cream swirled into it.  

“What…. the…..fuuuuuuuuuck,” she questioned again, ignorantly wondering who would do something like this.  But even her drunken brain could easily guess.

Brinkley collected herself, a shocked, angry laugh coming from her. Still looking at the carnage soaking the sheets, she toweled off the concoction from her legs.

“That ass is DEAD,” She considered for a moment waiting and perhaps pranking him back, but no way this man was going to just get to sleep soundly down the hall while her bed had been graffitied by toiletries  She threw on a robe, grabbing her bottle of water before making her way down the dark hallway. She could hear some party commotion still down towards the den and kitchen. 

She ignored the quiet objections in her head. She had no plans to do anything beyond giving him a hard time. It was not fair for him to just peacefully sleep as if he deserved no retribution. He brought this on himself. She turned the door knob to his room slowly, wincing when it clicked, waiting a moment to slowly push the door open. 

The room was dark and still, she snuck in the small opening of the door and closed it behind her. She stood unmoving, waiting for her eyes to acclimate to the darkness. She also made sure she hadn’t woken him, listening for deep breathing or light snores. She could see a body under the covers and as she crept closer, could see that it was Curt. 

She slowly poured the entire bottle of still very cold water from above his face, startling him awake suddenly. 

“Rise and shine, asshole,” She said, jumping on him before he could turn on the light or comprehend what was happening. 

“Jesus Christ, Brinkley!” He tried to wipe the water from his eyes and face, gasping for breath having nearly been waterboarded, while also protecting himself from her lightly wailing fists as she jumped on him. 

“My bed, man, my freaking bed? That’s not even my bed, its Scott’s!” She couldn’t help but giggle as Curt moved under her. 

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about?” He lied, unable to keep from smiling. She could see him now, adjusted to the soft light of a night light coming from the bathroom. 

“The hell you don’t…you think this is funny??” She tried to wriggle out of his grasp as his large hands grabbed ahold of her wrists. She was no match for his brute strength.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” He cocked an eyebrow, trying to maintain his control though her drunken wriggling was making it harder to control her and harder to ignore the way she was moving against him. 

At that moment, one had slipped free from his grip and she dove it under the blankets, tickling his sides - his known weakness. He tried not to laugh, but let her other hand go as he tried to stop her. She did the same on the other side. She was amused by the way he reacted, making herself easier to overtake as Curt flipped her over to her back, pinning her to the bed by her arms. Her laughter still came, though it was subdued as she looked up at Curt hovering over her. 

Her robe splayed open and she knew the thin white tank wasn’t hiding anything - but then again, he’d seen it all before. 

“Scott probably wouldn’t be too happy with you in my room like this,” Curt said, reminding himself as much as he was Brinkley. 

“Probably not…” She agreed, but didn’t stop the wanting lure of her upward gaze, “But I don’t think you’re going to let that stop you…” She called him out.

“Stop me? I haven’t done anything, miss late-night intruder,” He tried to stall, hoping his better sense would take hold. He was still buzzed from drinking (among other things). 

“You think I don’t know that look in your eyes by now?” She challenged him, she let her buzz be her excuse for her loose tongue, “You think I haven’t seen the way you look at me in the locker room? In the bars? In the ring? Do you really think I don’t know that you’ve been dying to fuck me since the moment we got back on the road?” She maintained a knowing smirk, though throughout her monologue, Curt’s face grew darker. She knew it wasn’t completely true, but at this moment she wanted it to be.

“You're playing with fire here, girl…” He warned her, “You better get out of here before things go too far.” He knew she had to feel his arousal against her leg. 

“And where do you suggest I go?” She postured, “If you'll recall, my bed is out of commission. I'm starting to think you did this on purpose…thinking I'd coming running here,”

“Well, if that was the plan…you played right into it didn't you? Barely any clothes on,  jumping  right into my bed,” He slowly leaned down closer as he spoke.  He could tell she wanted him to kiss her and he couldn't deny that he knew it would feel good.  But it had been weeks, he'd gotten used to not crossing that line.  He couldn't just regress and expect his life to get better. 

“You're lucky I didn't kick your ass when I got here,” she snipped at him,  squirming to get out of his hold, knowing she was worked up and failing to do the same to him,  though she was sure he was rock hard against her thigh, “my original plan wasn't as nice as what you got,”

“You'd really kick my ass, huh?” Maybe if he kept the repartee going,  the tension would fizzle out, “after all I've done for you?”

“I think with what you got out of it,  we're pretty even,” she nearly huffed, not getting her way, “You had your own personal fucktoy at your disposal…what do you have to complain about?”

“Brinkley,” his grip softened around her wrists, “That's…that's not at all what you were,” he felt an extreme wave of guilt wash over him. 

She slipped out of his hands and sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling her robe around her tightly.

“Well what the hell else would you call it?” She felt that familiar sting of insecurity. 

Curt didn't have an answer for her,  sitting back and turning on the bedside lamp. 

“That's not what it was,” he reiterated.

“Yes.  It was.  Otherwise,  you'd have come up with something. You improvise better than anyone here,” she hated that in the moment she still found a way to compliment him. 

“Brinkley,  I know you love Scott…” he admitted, wondering if in another life she might have loved him instead.

“Yeah and look what it got me…just a different guy's fucktoy, just jumping from one dick to another,” she had hoped she wouldn’t subject herself to this;  that somehow she'd be able to resist what so many women before her had fallen prey to. She felt foolish for thinking somehow she would be better than them.

“Stop,” he said with some force, “That's not what you are to him either. Not him and not me,”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes and stood, shrugging off his hand that gently touched her shoulder. She knew her drunken self was about to start crying and she didn't want to cry in front of him. 

“Brinkley…” He stood following her as she ignored him, “Don't leave like this,” he stopped her as she reached for the door, “Talk to me, tell me what happened tonight,” He pleaded, knowing that she was still hiding something from him.

“Curt, just leave me alone,” she tried to leave again,  but he held the door closed, “Please…just leave me alone,”

He should. He should let her go. But he hated the idea of her leaving upset with him. He wasn't built for complicated relationships,  but he had sure created one. 

“I can't let you leave like this,” he blocked her exit,  now on the receiving end of a warning look from her. 

“I don't give a fuck what you want!” She gritted her teeth, but couldn't stop the tears blurring her vision. She also couldn't stop herself from leaning immediately into him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, swallowing her up against him.  He felt her warm tears falling against his chest. 

Brinkley leaned into him,  missing the way she used to lay against his body.  She knew she missed it because she was craving familiarity, something of comfort. That's what he'd become to her.  

She wished the opposite, mostly because of how it seemed to continually complicate her life. 

“You're drunk baby girl,  everything seems bad when you're drunk. Trust me,” he rested his face against the top of her head, “Tomorrow you’ll feel better, probably won’t even remember this,” He knew deep down he hated the idea that she’d forget seeking anything in him. 

“Promise?” She leaned her head back just enough to look up at him. 

He didn’t stop her as she slipped her hand around the back of his head and leaned up to kiss him. He hadn’t felt the softness of her lips in so long, but he hadn’t forgotten their taste. His arms were tense around her, resisting letting his hands wander. He couldn’t help but deepen it though. He sucked in a quick breath when she nipped at his lip. He pulled back, steadying his breath as he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I promise,” he clenched his jaw as he restrained himself. He could feel the disappointment in her body language as she slumped against him, “But…you can stay in here tonight if you want, I can find somewhere else to crash,” 

Brinkley huffed, but turned away from him silently. Shedding her robe, she climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up high around her neck. Curt sighed at the idea of trying to find somewhere that wasn’t already littered with passed out bodies. He went to the bedside, turning the lamp off. He only paused as her hand reached for his wrist. 

He looked back as she pulled at him with a pleading look.

“I’ll be fine,” He assured her, but she didn’t relent. He sighed heavily again, giving in as he lifted the covers to get under them himself. As soon as he was comfortable against his pillow, Brinkley lay herself nearly over him as she snuggled against his side. 

“At least until I fall asleep,” She mumbled, her arm draped over his chest. She had no intention of letting him sleep anywhere else by the way she laid over his arm that he wrapped around her. 

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

Scott woke groggy and hazy. He pushed a snoring Kevin from leaning on his shoulder. The late morning light was pouring in through the large windows. The brightness stung his sensitive eyes, making him blink several times before seeing how trashed the room was.

“The fuck, man?” Kevin grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he also squinted in the harsh light, “What time is it?”

“Late…probably,” Scott shrugged, rubbing his head as if it would help relieve the pressure behind it. He kicked a beer can and it skittered across the floor. He was surprised that most people had left. As he walked through the main floor, he only saw Rick Steiner passed out naked in a lounge chair on the back patio, Steve on the floor by the kitchen island, Page and Kim sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

He wondered where Brinkley was, becoming worried.

“I'm sure she's upstairs, man,” Kevin tried to reassure Scott, but knew that wouldn't calm him down. He poured two cups of coffee and pushed one towards Scott, “Drink up, she’s probably hung over, too,”

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

Brinkley woke first, sitting up in bed as she felt the effects of her consumption. She groaned quietly to herself. She should know where her tolerance was by now. She looked next to her,  Curt splayed out on the bed, the covers resting just below his hips. She admired his body with a platonic admiration; he was so very strong and he worked hard to maintain his stockier build. 

She averted her eyes as he moved and began to stretch. Opening his eyes,  he looked for her first, selfishly relieved she was still there. 

“Good morning,  Brink,” he mumbled, still stretching out his muscles, “been up long?”

“Not too long…just long enough to start thinking about how I'm gonna get you back,” she lightly teased.

“Maybe if you'd just take it,  I'd move on to a different target,” he played back, but regretted the way his words sounded. 

“Relax,” she pacified him,  “I know what you meant,”

Curt sat up,  leaning against the headboard as well, “may be a little inappropriate.. but I'm proud of us.  Slept all night in the same bed and both kept our clothes on,” he joked,  getting a slight smile out of her,  “Sorry, I shouldn't joke about that, Scott wouldn't like it much,”

“Screw Scott,” she mumbled, crossing her arms protectively across her, “I don't really care what he thinks,”

Curts eyebrows shot up. 

“What happened with you two? You can't tell me it was nothing,” he linked his hands together in his lap to keep from reaching for hers. 

“I just didn't like the way he made me feel last night,” she tried to keep her voice flat, but she felt it waver at the end, “He just…I didn't like how he treated me,”

“Did he hurt you?” Curt knew he had little room to judge without being a hypocrite.

Brinkley didn't answer right away,  worrying him. 

“No…I guess not…he just was mean and it was rough…in a way I didn't like. And then he just left.” She recalled the coldness of the encounter,  “I'm probably just being overly sensitive about it,” she shook her head trying to brush it off. 

“If you don't like something, you have to tell him. Don't put up with guys disrespecting you.  Me included.” He tried to give her the best advice he could.  

“He said I belonged to him.  That I was his. But…he treated me like…well.. what I said last night” she felt embarrassed to be having this conversation with him,  but she wasn't sure who else she could talk to. She didn't want her dirty laundry aired around the locker room. She wasn't sure who else she could trust. 

“So that's where that ‘fucktoy’ nonsense came from,” pieces were connecting now, “I assume he was drinking?” 

“By the time I met him in the bedroom, half his bottle of whiskey was gone,” she felt foolish as if she shared blame in staying in the situation, “I should have known,”

“Don't blame yourself.  None of that is your fault just like what happened with me,” he hated to bring it up,  but he had to own up to his own mistakes if he was going to point out others.

“Curt, I told him I loved him,” she looked upwards, trying to keep her eyes from welling up, “He wouldn't say it back. I feel like an idiot. Like…how disappointing am I to you after all you taught me, and then to end up like this.  Already.” 

It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms. 

“You're not a disappointment to me, Brinkley,” he did tilt her chin gently to look at him, “If anything I'm the disappointment for the way I crossed the line with you.” 

She offered him a smile as her forgiveness, nodding to agree. 

“I know you're upset…but don't go dark just yet. Don't get me wrong,  I don't like what you told me…but I have seen a different side of Scott Hall with you around.” He was not fond of defending Scott at the moment,  “But promise me you'll stand up for yourself. If he won't respect you…you can't stay…”

She nodded,agreeing with him, hoping that he was right about Scott. She tied her robe around her as Curt dressed, leaving the room together.

Scott stood frozen outside of his room as he saw Brinkley in a robe exit the guest room, followed closely by Curt. He'd seen his bed,  the prank reeking of Hennig. His blood had run cold when she wasn't in his room. It chilled him even more now seeing them together.

“What in the fuck is this??” Scott felt himself tensing.

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 17

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 17 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 3336

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Taglist: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (DM or comment to be added!)

Arriving in Orlando, Brinkley felt nerves starting to churn in her gut. She had been wrestling dark matches the last couple of days with other women, jobbing them with Curt at ringside in what felt like an odd reversal. But she was thankful for his supporting presence.

But now being in the city where she had a high profile match amongst 3 high-profile stars was starting to flare her anxiety. The live TV show on Thursday wasn’t even on her mind, though it was the last chance to really ramp up to the big match. 

Scott noticed, back to being just a passenger while Kevin drove. He sat in the back with her most of the trip,  trying first to talk her down, moving on to just trying to distract her. She swatted his hand away when he would get too bold, not nearly as comfortable with the idea of Kevin watching as she was with Curt. She blushed as she realized she probably wouldn’t stop Scott if Curt was driving. 

It wasn’t long ago that the idea of Curt left a bad taste in her mouth; she thought she’d never be attracted to him again. She was confused that her mind and her body seemed to be on such separate planes. 

She didn’t ask when others would be arriving, she didn’t want to say anything too leading. Scott and Curt might have been on better terms, but she knew Scott may be a little insecure over it.

She took a swim while the house was still somewhat empty, Kev keeping her company while he tanned on a poolside chair, nursing the first of likely many beers. She was sure he was asleep most of the time, but occasionally would say something as she’d pause her laps at each end. 

Feeling a little gassed, she paused swimming, hanging off the edge of the pool in front of his chair. 

“Kev, can I ask you something?” She asked, smoothing her wet hair back and clearing water from her eyes. 

“Sure, in fact, you just did,” He responded sardonically, “Don’t you fucking dare,” He warned, pointing a finger at her as she paused from splashing him. 

“Fine…can I ask you questions,” she pointedly emphasized the plural nature of the word. Kevin didn’t look at her, but smirked as he shrugged.

“Sure, why not,” He rested a bent arm behind his head.

“Did you ask Scott if you could fuck me?” She asked with a surprisingly casual nature. Kevin didn’t seem to react right away; she assumed that wasn’t a clear ‘no’.

“Why?” Was his simple response. She knew it was a very loaded single word.

“Just asking if you did,” She remained coy in return.

“I didn’t ask. It came up in conversation.” He clarified, but kept from taking ownership of any remark. 

“Were you the one that brought it up?” She said with a mild hint of accusation. 

“If it's a no, just say so,” He shrugged again. He didn’t plan on letting her get the upper hand to hold anything over his head. 

“Well, if you’re going to be like that about it,” She rolled her eyes, lifting herself out of the water, “Then fine, it's a no,” sticking her tongue out at him, “At least until you learn some manners,” She grabbed her towel from the next chair and wiped herself down as she made her way onto the back porch. She shook her head as she looked back at Kevin, still lounging in the chair. Sometimes he was very kind to her and others so cantankerous. She wondered if she had agreed if he’d have treated her any differently. 

Walking into the kitchen, she secured the towel around her waist just as she saw Curt sitting inside at the counter. She couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“Hey, did you just get here?” She looked around, seeing no one else, “And you’re just lurking around in the kitchen?”

“Just finishing this one off, figured I’d grab another, so I’d save some time,” He held up the beer he was working on. He noticed the uncertainty flash across her face as she glanced at the bottle, “I promise, you have nothing to worry about. You don’t have to trust me if you don’t want, but I’m taking it easy - no Jack tonight,” 

“Well, you can’t blame me for being cautious,” She leaned against the island countertop he was sitting at. Her two-piece wasn’t super revealing, but it didn’t leave much to the imagination either, “Who knows what I might do to set you off,” 

Curt looked at her as he took a drink. He knew she was being flirtatious and provocational. It wasn’t necessarily outside of her nature. She always had a charming allure about her, it was likely why she was doing so well in the business, backed up by her actual skill. 

“Better not let Scott hear you talking to me like that,” He warned her in a low tone, but couldn’t hide the hint of mischief in his tone. If he didn’t know that she and Scott were exclusive, he’d be making up an excuse to get her into his room. He assumed the fact that he couldn’t have her now was making him feel more pent up than usual. 

“He never said I couldn’t talk to you,” She played back, “Just that I couldn’t-” Her inciting rhetoric was cut off by Curt pressing his index finger to her lips.

“Stop right there,” He warned her again, “You still need to learn not to show your hand even if you have all the cards.”

“Oh my god, haven’t heard that Hennig wisdom in a while,” She went to the refrigerator and grabbed herself and Curt a beer, “You should write a desk calendar with all these gems,” 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you can be a real asshole sometimes,” He teased her, popping the cap off of her beer for her, “Still getting used to it?” He laughed at her only slight grimace when she took a sip. 

“Yeah, I’m getting…better with it,” She knew she sounded less than confident, “And me? An asshole?” She mocked offense.

“You have your moments,” Scott said,  walking into the kitchen from behind her, announcing his arrival with a swift pop to her backside, he grabbed a beer, joining them at the counter, “If you're wanting to go practice,  you better get ready,” he checked his watch, “unless that's what you're working in.” Scott pulled off her towel as she failed to keep hold of it, “I wouldn't complain,”

“Damn you!” She tried to get it back,  his long arm keeping it from her reach, “at least I'm not the only asshole around here,” she finished her beer swiftly,  making her exit to get dressed. She could care less about the present company seeing her this way,  but she wasn't keen on the rest of the roster getting a good look.  

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

Brinkley stepped up her game in practice. She took more artful falls and sold moves better than she had in group training before. 

She struggled the most with keeping a straight face with Scott in the ring, though it was a possibility the announcers could use that during the match to sow discourse about whether or not she really wanted to win. They could potentially suggest she'd lost the match for her and Curt on purpose. They might allude to the possibility of her turning on Curt, giving the win to the Outsiders. 

Brinkley covered up her real opinion, shrugging her shoulders and being neutral. In fact, she hated the idea. It made sense, it was logical, it fit within standard kayfabe and would help give her her own identity instead of being attached as an afterthought to a male wrestler. But part of her couldn’t detach the real feeling of betrayal from it, even though Curt seemed to react positively to the idea. 

Her amiable nature made that the prevailing option as they all agreed. Brinkley ignored feeling sick to her stomach. Scott could sense her unease and it spread to him - wondering if she was really ready to leave Curt, even after all that had happened. He didn’t think he could handle losing her - but now he had to wonder if he ever really had her or if she’d only been on loan this whole time. 

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

Her quietness didn’t help ease Scott’s mind on the ride back to his house. But the number of cars parked indicated that quite a few people had already arrived - he wondered if he’d get a moment with her alone. Unlikely as he saw all the bodies that spilled out of the cars and the cases of beer and alcohol they had with him.  

He grabbed hold of her arm,  pulling her to him to whisper in her ear just as Curt pulled in behind them.

“Meet me in my room in 20,” He instructed,  not asking.  Brinkley had to wonder if he was upset, she couldn't think of anything she'd done that might.  All of her reservations had been in her own head and she knew better than to admit any lingering attraction to Curt.

She nodded to agree before waving and greeting Ray Traylor who was at Curt's car unloading beer. She grabbed one of the cases as she chatted up both men on the way into the house. 

Kevin noticed the dark look that flashed across Scott's face; he’d seen that look before. He’d seen the fallout from that look before. He’d been perfectly fine at the gym and on the ride back. He suspected it was something with Brinkley (mainly for the fact that when isn’t it a woman), but he’d not noticed anything particularly problematic that she’d done.

Maybe if he’d kept Scott distracted; they could avoid whatever potential meltdown was boiling below the surface. 

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

Brinkley loaded case after case into the refrigerator and then coolers of ice that were also brought. She knew there were a lot of people, but she didn’t understand how they could drink THIS much. She checked the time and it had been just over 30 minutes. She handed off the last case to Rick Steiner to manage; she heard them popping the tabs open instead of putting them on ice. Cans crushed nearly seconds later as she turned around to see them opening a second already.

“Good lord,” She laughed a little, shaking her head as she ran up the stairs, two at a time. The house was already filling with noise, the din only increasing as someone started playing music. She walked into Scott’s room, closing the door behind her, the sound muffled greatly. The room was dark, the blinds closed up tightly to block out the harsh Florida sun. 

“Scott?” She called out, her eyes still adjusting. She noticed him now, in a chair in the sitting area of the room. Shirtless in basketball shorts and his hair hanging down, Brinkley had to keep her tongue from hanging out of her mouth. She saw him set a half empty glass bottle on the table beside him. He was starting out heavy, “What are you doing here all alone in the dark?”

She walked up to him, ignoring the tension in the room that felt like static. 

“Waiting for you,” He looked at her with his dark eyes in an even darker stare, “Wondering if you would bother to show up,”

She slipped into his lap, the smell of whiskey was far more obvious. Though Scott had never struck her or put an unkind hand on her, she felt uneasy remembering the same smell on Curt’s breath and a similar dark look in his eyes. She noticed Scott’s face soften though as she nestled herself in his lap and against him. 

“Of course I’d show up! I was just trying to set up some sort of order down there, guess that’s a lost cause with this crew,” she motioned behind her, “Any time with you I can get, I’ll take,” She meant it, but knew buttering him up wouldn’t hurt. She gently walked her fingers over him, stroking his hairy chest slowly. 

“Do you know how hard it is?” He asked vaguely, his hand sliding from her knee up her thigh. 

“Hmmm…what exactly are we talking about?” She remained playfully coy.

“Training with you. How hard it is for me not to just throw you down and fuck you in the middle of the ring?” His hand slipped up to her hip, squeezing. 

Brinkley nearly panted, squirming in his lap. 

“In front of everyone?” She countered trying to prolong their repartee. 

“Everyone, no one. Doesn’t matter…” He felt her tense and heard her gasp as he lightly bit down on the side of her neck, “Because you’re mine,” He growled. 

“God, yes, Scott…I’m all yours,” She whimpered, not realizing she was digging her nails into his chest, but he didn’t stop her. 

“Oh yeah? Get down on your knees and prove it to me,” He grumbled in her ear, one hand lightly smacking her thigh. 

She felt her skin prickle as she slowly slid off of him, sinking to her knees between his splayed legs. She felt as if her senses were heightened and with them so were her nerves. She couldn’t pinpoint her unease, but she wanted to please him so much that she did as he asked. 

“Clothes off,” He slouched in the chair a little, licking his lips as he watched her undress. 

She leaned forward between his legs, kissing down his stomach slowly, occasionally pulling at a hair with her teeth, making him hiss slightly. Her hand rubbed him over his shorts, feeling him stiffen with each pass. She did feel relieved when his hands touched her gently, one reaching underneath her and toying with her breast. 

“Girl, you know just how to get me going, don’t you,” He mumbled, feeling himself pulse against her stroking palm. Whatever irrational anger he was feeling was dissipating and he felt more and more powerless. Desperate to maintain control, he reached under the elastic of his shorts and pulled his manhood out. His other hand gripped into her hair, directing his cock into her willing mouth. 

Brinkley was surprised by the abrupt motion, but was quick to acquiesce his demands. She teased him, resisting his urge to take him deep, her lips working around his tip. She kept her eyes on his and noticed the wanting, needy look on his face that she preferred. She let him push her farther down now, taking his cock roughly as he moved his hips. 

“Fuck…that’s it, baby, suck Daddy’s cock just like that…” His hand was still firmly gripping her hair, not allowing her to stall or come up for air until she finally pulled away, gasping. She looked at him, feeling unsure of why referring to himself that way affected her, “What? Don’t wanna call me Daddy?” He was almost condescending as he asked. 

“I will if you want me to,” She softly replied, wondering if his mood had anything to do with Curt. 

“Oh, I want you to…because I’m your Daddy now…not him,” Scott leaned forward, gripping her chin firmly in his hand. She could feel the pressure in her cheekbones as he held her forcibly in his gaze. She gulped, trying to ease her shaking breath. 

“Yes, Daddy,” She managed a breathless reply, not wanting to sound meek. 

“Mmmm, that’s good…I definitely like the sound of that,” He stood up, towering over her as he walked behind her. With an almost effortless strength, he picked her up and bent her over the arm of the chair. Before she could adjust her balance, he forced his saliva-glistening cock deeply into her. She cried out into the back cushion of the chair, desperately trying to acclimate to the bulging intrusion. 

“Daddy…” She said, her words stilted with the force of his thrust, “Not…so…h-hard,” She begged, breathing a sigh of relief as he slowed for a moment and she caught her breath, “You’re just so big, Daddy…” She followed up, looking back at him with the big, doe eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. 

His irritation subsided again, knowing he might have hurt her. He slowed, just like he promised he would. Annoyed as he might have been, he didn’t want to break her trust in him. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” He moved slower now, feeling her pussy slicken a little more as he moved in deliberate, full strokes, “Daddy got too excited,”

Brinkley could tell the name was really working him up. That idea alone turned her on. She braced herself against the other arm of the chair, feeling his gradually quickening his pace as her sex squeezed him. She came suddenly, without a chance to warn him, biting her lip to keep from screaming out profane obscenities for all the guests to hear. 

She felt herself being pulled backwards a little, his hand sliding around her neck and holding tightly. 

“You only cum for me…understand?” He leaned forward, nearly seething the words in her ear, “You belong to me,” 

She nodded, swallowing and gasping for the breath that his grip allowed her, “Yes, Daddy…” She squeaked out.

“Say it,” He seethed, burying himself deeper, his large hand gripping tighter. 

“I only cum for you Daddy,” She whimpered, “I belong to you,” She took a big breath as Scott’s hand dropped from around her neck, both hands now squeezing around her hips as he came, burying his cum deep inside of her sex. 

She took deep, steadying breaths as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. She was a little surprised when she turned to sit on the edge of the chair arm and he didn’t move to embrace her like he normally would, instead only putting himself back into his shorts and grabbing the tshirt he’d laid on the bed. 

“Hop in the shower if you want. Come to the party when you’re ready,” He said, going into the bathroom to rinse the sweat from his face with cold water and towel it dry, “I’m gonna head down now,” He made a move toward her, but her hope was fleeting as he only grabbed the glass liquor bottle from the table beside her and made his way to the door. “Ok, shouldn’t be long,” She still offered a smiling face, but it fell quickly when he left. She felt used. In all the times she’d been with either of them, she’d never felt this way. Even with Curt, who was clearly using her - she never felt this discarded. 

Perhaps she was being too naive, assuming every time would be romantic and would have those lovely intimate moments afterwards. Maybe the two of them had coddled her too much up until this point. She would have understood all of that…if only she had known what she’d done wrong to upset him. 

She searched her mind as she stepped into the hot shower, wondering if she had inadvertently vocalized an objection to turning on Curt. Was it because she just shrugged at the suggestion instead of agreeing wholeheartedly? Was it because she helped carry in Ray’s beer and he thought it was Curt’s? She knew some of the thoughts were ridiculous, but she couldn’t find a reason why Scott would be upset with her. That only bothered her more. 

She suddenly did not feel much like being sociable or partying with everyone. God forbid she had a nice conversation with another man and a drunken Scott took it the wrong way. She took her time after the shower, combing her hair slowly, lotioning, and redressing. She even blow-dried her hair unlike usual. Anything to stall while she tried to think. She tried to tell herself she was just being a ridiculous, emotional girl - that Scott wasn’t upset and she was just overthinking everything. She hated the fact that she wished she could somehow talk to Curt about this. 

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 16

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 16 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 2370

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 (will update with links)

Tag List: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (feel free to ask to be added)

Brinkley missed training with Curt. Scott and Kevin were great, but there was something different about learning from two people. Some of it was contradictory and therefore confusing. She was also fairly sure Kevin was a sadist who was out to cause her as much pain without leaving marks as much as he could.

But she had learned how to land a decent, loud chest chop that left a mark without killing her hand. But she still could feel the heat of Kevin’s open palm on her skin, he made sure to show her how not to do them as well, that is unless she was handing out receipts.

“Pretty sure he's just doing this to get a chance at touching my boobs,” Brinkley looked at the red handprint that was quickly dissipating. At least he kept them high and didn't land a cheap lower shot.

“Who could blame him?” Scott stared at her chest for a moment, “He did fess up and tell me he saw ‘em,” he smirked at her.

“What?? When? Oh….Omaha wasn't it,” she recalled him helping her put her top on. He hadn't obviously ogled her, but she was sure it was hard not to look at all, “And here I thought he was trying to just be a nice guy.”

“Yeeeep, he congratulated me,” Scott pulled on his knee pads, “Told him they get plenty of attention. And I’m sure he was being a nice guy, but…it’s boobs, baby. We’re guys…we’re gonna look at boobs,”

“Can't tell you how flattering it is to hear how you boys talk about my tits,” she rolled her eyes, but was indeed a little flattered that after all of the women they'd seen, they still found hers noteworthy. But she couldn’t help but hear the hypocrisy, she could imagine he wouldn’t be too thrilled if she was ogling the dicks flopping around in the locker room and then chatting hip the girls backstage about them.

Scott watched her as he laced up his boots. He should tell her how he felt soon. She put up with a lot on the road including his mood swings and drunken behavior and still was just as interested in him as she was on day one. She complimented him well, too. She made him want to be better - he hoped that part would last.

“You know,” she knew there was never a good time to bring it up, “We are going to have to work on the match. With Curt…” she was too inexperienced to work this match on the fly and they all knew it. She would have loved to have the four of them practice in a ring like before.

She'd seen Kevin and Curt speaking, but Scott was still icing him out. She definitely felt the dichotomy of the situation. On one hand, she felt protected by Scott, on the other, she just wanted to move past this and go back too how things used to be with Curt.

If only she knew what “used to be” meant.

“I know,” Scott’s tone turned more serious, “We can figure something out, if that's what you want,” he stated flatly.

“He and I talked a little. Said everything that needed to be said. I think we are in an ok place,” she knew this topic was a sore spot for him, but it was an elephant in the room they could no longer ignore.

“As long as you're ok, baby girl, so am I,” Scott said, his tone still serious, “Oh…and that reminds me,” his intonation changed.

She looked up at him, pausing from tying her own boots.

“Have you given any more thought to maybe messing around with Kev?” Scott watched her carefully. He could see that it still made her uncomfortable. It had been a couple of weeks since he brought it up. He guessed it wasn't likely in the cards. He was a little jealous that she had done it for Curt, but had to remind himself that her consent had not been part of the deal.

And he remembered the relieved look on her face when she'd realized it was him.

He had to wonder if she got a couple of drinks in her if she might change her mind.

“I haven’t really thought that much more about it…,” She admitted, “Would it make things weird? Have you guys done this before?” She had questions, but hadn’t been sure how to ask them. She noticed that Scott seemed flustered, unprepared for follow up questions.

“I don’t think it’ll make things any different. Not like Kev’s gonna fall for you or anything,” He could have kicked himself for how cold that sounded, he was not selling this well at all. He cleared his throat a little, “And there’s been a couple times over the last decade…” He tried to qualify it with a long time frame so it didn’t seem as frequent.

Brinkley nodded, not faulting him for his honesty, “Can I have a little more time?” She asked as she stood and straightened her outfit in the mirror.

“Baby, take all the time you want,” Scott walked up behind her, running his hands down her arms. She turned, reaching up on her tiptoes and softly kissed him. At that moment, Curt walked into the locker room and Brinkley felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Curt did not make eye contact with either of them, but Scott stared him down.

“Brink, why don't you give us a minute,” Scott asked, requesting that she leave the locker room. She looked worriedly between the two. She didn't want them to have it out right before Curt's match.

“It's fine, Brinkley,” Curt had to guard himself from calling her ‘baby girl’, he was still trying to gauge Scott’s mood. If he had to take a shot, he would, but any more and a full blown fight might break out.

She looked at Scott once more, still reluctant to leave.

“Brink” Scott asked once more, nodding his head toward the door. She left this time, pacing up and down the hallways nearby, never hearing a raised voice or the din of anything violent. She wondered what the world they could still both be saying. Her mind made the dark, but amusing joke that they were working out a schedule for her so she could fuck them both without stepping on each other’s toes. She decided to keep that one to herself.

Unable to stand the anxiety, she walked beyond that hallway, trying to distract herself with an informal Nitro Girls practice, letting Spice teach her some of the moves. It was a momentary fun distraction - she forgot about everything that had happened, even just for a moment. She wished she could confide in some of these women with what’d been happening, but she’d been so preoccupied with training or men that she hadn’t been particularly available to make many friends beyond who she rode with. And she could still hear Curt's warning of being careful of who to trust.

She could change that if she wanted, it would probably make time on the road more tolerable and keep her from grating on the guys’ nerves so much. She asked if she could hang out more often and at least Spice, Fyre, and Whisper seemed positive about it, none were particularly negative .

Brinkley left on her own for the gorilla, watching the time carefully. She found herself looking forward to those few moments before they walked through the curtain. She knew even that would stop soon once she transitioned over to the Outsiders. She wondered what the conversation had been and if Curt would tell her. She might be able to pry it out of him if she was slick about it.

She walked through the first curtains, relieved that Curt was already there, checking over his look in a mirror they kept in the corner. She noticed a spot he’d missed on the back of his shoulder that wasn’t oiled up. She grabbed the emergency bottle left in the gorilla for such a purpose and put a little in her hand.

She rubbed it on him without saying anything, glancing over to make sure he hadn’t missed anything else.

“Back to the green?” Curt questioned her original gear as he turned around and looked her over. She could have worn a trashbag and the crowd would have eaten it up.

“Yeah, don't wanna wear out the new stuff too fast. Plus you said these shorts make my ass look good,” she turned to show off her profile, “Still true,”

“Good to see you're still doing your squats,” he appreciated her display and her flirtatious banter, “worried you'd get lazy,”

“Not at all. In fact I've added another 25 pounds to it,” she bragged. He seemed to be in a decent mood, the conversation couldn't have been too bad, “When we get out to the ring…you can verify if you want,” she offered as his music started playing, sticking her tongue out at him. She knew she shouldn't offer such things. But it would help sell the kayfabe in the ring, she told herself.

Curt looked at her with much too serious of an expression, only grinning once they got to the ramp and he turned on his cocky charm.

He didn't so much smack it as subtly pat her backside as a football teammate would. He felt enough to know she was telling the truth. As he locked up with the jobber, he felt somewhat distracted and forgot the next few moves. He was good enough to fake through it. Part of him was irritated a bit that he let her get to him so easily, though.

Brinkley recognized his fog, jumping up on the apron as he elbowed the opponent in his face and leaned against the turnbuckle. She whispered the parts of the match she could remember. He would miss this when she was no longer his partner.

As she jumped down, she felt arms wrap around her middle and lift her from the ground. She recognized the thick, hairy forearms right away, still fighting against Scott though in all actuality she hadn’t been aware they were coming out to interfere. It was sometimes hard to keep a straight face working against Scott, she thought it might get easier the closer they got, but that wasn't always true.

She kicked and cussed at him, fans reaching out to pull him back but he stayed just out of their reach. She really tried to sell the struggle, nearly pulling him down to the ground with her.

“I like it when they fight back,” he murmured in her ear and she had to use all of her self restraint not to groan or give up struggling. She watched as Kevin kept Curt occupied as Scott started dragging her away, “Keep up that squirming, feels good against my dick,” he mumbled just low enough that the camera wouldn't pick it up.

“PUT ME DOWN ASSHOLE!” she screamed fighting against smiling, trying to thrash against him as he backed up the entrance way. She yelled out to Curt for help, he finally looked away from Kevin to see the ploy, amused at their impromptu setup. He booked it from the ring, taking the countout, but wailing on Scott who sold it beautifully. She joined in on stomping him just as Kevin yanked her by the wrist towards him. Curt switched targets aiming at Kevin now as he reached to grab Brinkley who Kevin held like a ragdoll on his hip.

She eventually swung her fist into his crotch, realizing it was a little more than a glancing blow and completely inadvertent. But he fell to his knees and loosened his grip on her, Curt grabbing her by the hand and pulling her back to him. He played up checking if she was ok as she pouted animatedly.

“Don't worry, baby, I won't let them get their hands on you,” Curt said loud enough for the camera. He enjoyed the way she hung off his shoulder until they got to the gorilla.

“What was that about?” She asked, knowing Scott and Kevin would be close behind.

“What? Didn't like it?” Curt laughed a little as the other two passed the curtain.

“Did you guys…were you all in on this?” She looked surprised between them.

“Figured you'd get a kick out of it,” Scott smirked, “You are getting a lot better at improvising,”

“Yeah…she got a kick out of it…” Kevin was a little more snide, his balls having taken the brunt of her blow, slightly sore.

“You guys…” she couldn't help but smile, knowing they came up with it together, “Does this mean we can practice the match tomorrow??” She was excited; the pay per view was just around the corner and she needed the practice to show creative she could actually work. She started to realize what the conversation had likely been about in the locker room - though it probably didn’t initially start that way.

However it had happened, she was thankful for peace being made.

“Yes and yes…” Scott took her hand again. She loved how often he would show displays of affection like this. The rest of the roster was used to seeing it by now, but sometimes some would make a playfully teasing comment, “we'll have all day tomorrow since we aren't on TV again until Thursday. And with all of us staying at my place,” Scott added at the end.

“Wait.. what?” She knew they were going to Orlando and that Scott and herself were staying at his house.

“Yeah, Kev, Curt, and a couple other guys will probably stop by to hang out tomorrow night…make a party out of it,” He shrugged.

Brinkley could hardly comprehend all the plans that had obviously been made unbeknownst to her. She couldn't say she was upset, if anything she was relieved that water seemed to be flowing under the bridge. But they would all be staying under one roof. The back of her mind spun a little bit with possibilities, though she tried to stifle it.

[84reedsy]

Cuffed

Pairing: Kevin Nash/Fem Reader

Rating: M (for smut)

Summary: Big Sexy thinks he's always one step ahead of you. When restraints are involved, will the tables be turned?

Disclaimer/Warnings: 18+, Cursing, restrained sex. If these aren't your jam, please keep scrolling

Kevin Nash had dared you to 1) Find cuffs big enough to fit around his massive wrists and 2) over power him enough to employ them. He'd toss his hair and smirk, exuding that signature confidence that infuriated abs titillated you at the same time.  His size was enough to impose against your 5’5” height, but he couldn’t help the little jabs. He couldn't resist watching you squirm in frustration. 

What Kevin didn't know is  the secret that the WWE security detail had shared.  You were vague as you sought out the answer to his challenge. It was so simple that at first you felt silly for not figuring it out on your own. Two pairs,  daisy chained together worked on oversized people. You'd found two pairs and had mastered securing them together. 

The second part of the challenge was the real rub. Kevin could pick you up and hold you against the wall with one hand (he'd done it before), how in the world could you overpower him?  He'd easily turn the tables and cuff you if you weren't careful. 

You shudder as you think about what he promised to do to you if you were ever that helpless and accessible. It wasn't anything you were even remotely disagreeable to, but you were competitive by nature and were not one to turn down a challenge…no matter how steep.

Luckily, you'd just stashed away your modified cuffs just before Kevin walked into the dressing room. His hair was slightly messy and his body had a sheen from oils mixed with his sweat.  His singlet straps were down around his waist, his broad chest exposed and slightly flushed. Being in the ring,  in front of a crowd was such a rush for him;  you knew his pulse was still racing and he was riding the high it gave. 

“Caught you,” he raked his hand through his air,  tossing it back as he sauntered toward you.  

“I wasn't doing anything,” you defended yourself,  albeit a bit sheepishly.

“Bullshit,” He called you out, but not seeing evidence of anything, he only side-eyed you as he walked by. His pheromones were heavy in his wake and it was nothing new for you to feel the feral sensations that passed through you. Maybe some were turned off by sweaty men, but there was little about Kevin that didn’t turn you on. You nearly pouted as he headed toward the shower. 

As long as you could hear the spray from the shower, you knew you had time to figure out your plan. An ambush as he came out of the shower in only a towel might be your best chance. It was nearly as vulnerable as one could be. You giggled to yourself as you imagined his towel falling and the helpless feeling he might have if you kicked the towel away from him. Naked and restrained, you might finally one up them. 

Leaving the shower running, Kevin watched you from the doorway. He could tell by the mischievous grin on your face that you were planning something devious. He couldn’t quite see what you were fiddling with in your duffel bag, but he paid less attention to that than he did the way the tights hugged your ass and thighs. His cock stirred a little as he thought of the last locker room tryst. He’d cornered you minutes before your match and fucked you so savagely that you walked to the ring in a flushed haze, thrown completely off your game. Returning to the shower, he turned up the cold water to keep himself from getting any further aroused. It only partially worked.

 The bulge in his towel was noticeable as he finished drying and wrapped it around his waist. You waited around the corner, heart hammering in your chest as you waited for the opportune moment to pounce on him. You thought he might not expect anything…though many times he saw your tricks coming from miles away. 

Kevin cleared his throat as he walked back in the room, giving you the slightest advantage. Swiftly you clamped a metal ring around one of his large wrists. By the time he’d registered the closure of one, you had the other half way around. He jerked to resist the restraint, cursing out loud.

“What the fuck?!” He tried to pull away from y/ou, but the motion only closed the restraint tighter, “You’ve got to be kidding,” He growled, trying to muscle his way out of the cuffs, only to give up with a grunt of frustration.

“Got you!” You announced with smug satisfaction, your laugh was devilish as he struggled again. His broad chest flexed and you could see the frustration building in his face when his strength did not snap the metal chain lengths wound around eachother.. He was not as amused on this side of a prank. As if fate had read your mind, his towel loosened around his waist and slid from his hips. You couldn’t help but glance down and the newly revealed flesh. Even soft, his manhood was a site, but you noticed quickly that he wasn’t exactly flaccid. 

“Where are the fuck are the keys,” He started to bend down to grab his towel, but you quickly kicked it the far end of the locker room. 

“In a safe place,” you coyly replied. You saw his cock twitch a little, betraying the annoyed look on his face. You cocked an eyebrow at his visceral response, grabbing hold of the cuff chain and pulling him after you, “But….you have to earn it,” 

“This isn’t fucking funny anymore,” he snapped. He looked around to where you led him to, “What am I supposed to do over here?” 

You looked down to the bench in front of the lockers and back up at him in a wordless request.

“Jesus, if you want me to eat your pussy you don’t have to do all this,” He held up his hands, dropping them to do his best to cover his nearly stiff member. 

“Ah-hem”,You cleared your throat, “Don’t make me ask twice or I might just leave you like this for your buddies to find,” you rested your hands on your hips. You could see Kevin stifle sneering, but he audibly scoffed. 

He straddled the bench, flipping his hair back. He watched as you lowered your tights and panties. It was pointless to fight off his erection now. He laid back, but you wagged your finger at him. 

“Hands above your head.” You know he really didn’t like being told what to do, there was not much about him that was submissive. He would hate not being able to touch himself while pleasuring you, but you were going to take advantage of your power as much as possible while it lasted. 

Once his arms were laying above his head, you stepped over the bench, straddling his face. He didn’t have to be convinced to participate here, his tongue was delving between your lips before you were ready for it, gasping as it wiggled against your clit. You bit your lip as you tried to keep from grinding against his lips. You wanted him to work for your orgasm, you weren’t going to help him along. But it was so much harder to restrain yourself that you’d thought. 

Kevin was as skilled with his mouth on the mic as he was between your legs. Your thighs quivered as his lips wrapped around your clit and suckled firmly. His tongue traveled downward teasing your entrance. He knew well enough that tempting you with any penetration would make you desperate for his cock to fill you up. You glanced over you shoulder to see his heavy, throbbing member resting against his torso. You knew he was close to begging for it to be stroked.

He licked the length of your slit, pressing more firmly, flicking quicker as you grabbed a handful of his hair. He hummed into your sex, making your eyes roll back. You couldn’t still your hips any longer, fucking his face as you cum, leaning forward to brace yourself. 

Kevin was greedy when you came, sucking your juices down as if it were a sexual serum that he was addicted to. You nearly collapsed on his face as he still orally assaulted your overstimulated pussy. 

Needing a reprieve from his tongue, but still craving more, you rose from his face and instead, straddled his waist. Your toes barely touched the ground, but you managed to lower yourself onto his rigid member. You rose and lowered slowly, looking to see Kevin with his teeth gritted. Kevin was a fan of a punishing pace. Aggression and power were his forte. You were going to drive him insane if you could resist. 

“Fucking christ,” Kevin groaned, his arms reaching downward now, unable to reach grabbing your hips or your thighs. His hips struggled to buck upwards, impatient to thrust as deep in you as possible, “C’mon baby….please…” 

You knew that word did not leave his lips easily. You felt his shaft massaging your g-spot firmly. You had what you wanted. You were in control, no sense in denying yourself any longer either. 

You quickened the thrust of your own hips, leaning your hand against his firm chest, bouncing a little as you let gravity pull you down on his cock. You had to admit, you missed feeling his large hands gripping you, touching whatever he wanted. 

“ Fuck, Kev…make me cum…” you whimpered, feeling your sex ache as another orgasm loomed. You chased it again, the sounds of your skin echoing off the stone walls, your nails digging into his chest, “Make me cum, big boy,” You grinned devilishly, cumming seconds later. You saw Kevin’s jaw slack and his face tense before feeling him flood your womb with the heat of his own cum. Stretched by his girth, you felt every tremor of his shaft, sending tingles through you.

You decided you’d tortured him enough, lifting yourself off of him with shaky legs. FIshing in your bag for the key, your hands slightly shook as you unlocked one cuff then the other. 

Fresh sweat on his brow, Kevin lay for a few moments even after being released to catch his breath. You couldn’t help but smirk in triumph as you stashed the cuffs back in your bag. But your smirk was quickly wiped away once you turned around and all 7 feet of his nakedness was standing right in front of you. After grasping a handful of your hair, he kissed you punishingly. You could still taste yourself on his lips, his tongue invading your mouth. Your knees buckled slightly as you hung on his thick forearms. 

Parting from your lips, his own lowered to your ear. 

“You have no idea what you just got yourself into,” He warned with a deep drawl, “You’re mine…”

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 22 - The End

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 22 of 22

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

Word Count: 3470

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Taglist: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt To anyone and everyone who's read this; a sincere thank you from the bottom of my heart. This was the first thing I started writing when getting back into the wrestling fandom and it was meant to be just a one chapter blurb - but it grew into much more! Everyone's kind words and encouragement made finishing this possible <3

Pay-Per-Views were always more stressful. There was a lot more pressure to perform perfectly - much less was left to chance. Honestly, it felt like managerial over-reach, especially when they second-guessed Curt's suggestion for opening the match. Brinkley frowned at the man she'd never seen before yet acted as if he knew better than the three professional journeymen who stood next to her.  

Curt shook his head to discourage her argument and Scott subtly touched her arm.  She didn't know how they were so calm and so willingly taking bad direction from this wannabe booker. It was insulting to her, let alone them. 

“This time,” Curt looked around them once the four of them were alone again, “we are here to protect you. We usually end up doing whatever we want.  For us,  it's like ‘so what if Russo bitches about it’. But…when you're on your own,  you're gonna have to pick your own battles with them,” he knew as a newcomer she wouldn't carry enough clout outside of this match. 

“There's only so much we'll be able to say,” Scott followed up. 

“I get it…” she nodded, understanding their warning, “Don't rock the boat unless I absolutely have to,”

“Jesus, that boat is gonna end up capsizing” Kevin rolled his eyes,  but smirked at her,  ruffling her hair like a child. 

“Thanks A LOT, now I have to go fix it!” She scurried back to hair and makeup,  knowing time was running short. She could already hear the crowd reacting to the opening matches.  Her stomach turned as her hair was resmoothed and fixed into a high pony with a braid wrapped around its base. She wasn't sure she'd ever been this nervous.

She worried she might throw up in the hallway from the nerves as she made her way to the locker room,  trying to ignore the distant roar of 50,000 people that echoed through the concrete halls. Their match was still an hour away,  how was she ever going to maintain until then?

“Aren't you glad we taped our promos already?” Curt smirked as she paced in the locker room looking a little pale. Scott and Kevin were filming their response live to the crowd now. He knew she'd get there eventually,  once she got all of these tough firsts out of the way. 

“God, yeah,  I'd be a mess if we did it now, live. Why are pay-per-views so stressful?!” She continued pacing around the room to dispel her nervous energy,  shaking out her arms to keep them loose.

Curt watched her, thoughts and memories swirling around in his head. If he’d never suggested what he had to Scott, he had to wonder if she’d still just be pining from afar and spending her nights in Curt’s room, working out her energies there. He knew he’d done this to himself and that it was the right thing to do, but he couldn’t help but feel some level of selfish regret.

He knew what he’d like to do to redirect her mind and what to channel that energy into. He couldn't deny that he'd pleasured himself before many big matches just to level out. Sex (even with one's self)  was the ultimate way to prepare for a high energy performance. It was the same with actors,  singers… wrestlers were no different. He could feel his impulsivity tapping at the back of his mind,  making unsettlingly concrete arguments in favor of the proposition.

But he knew she'd tell Scott. She was adamant about being honest with him.  He was grateful and irritated that she'd listened so well to his lessons.  He didn't think he wanted to deal with however Scott may feel about it. It was better to keep the peace.

“CURT!” Brinkley snapped him with his towel,  jarring his focus back to the present, “where are you?” She asked,  having been rambling on for a few minutes only to see him staring off into the middle distance. The way he broke out into the tiniest of cold sweats and looked a little befuddled gave her a hint. 

“Sorry,  what?  What were you saying?” He still shook his head, hoping it was dissolve the vivid memories in his head. 

Brinkley straddled the bench he was sitting on a he pulled his kneepads just below his knees. She picked at a knot in the wood with her fingernail. 

“Is it always gonna be like this?” She asked barely above a mumble,  only looking up at him after she asked.  He paused from answering right away,  fiddling with his boots still.  He sighed and rested his forearms on his knees. 

“We're friends first, right?” He asked.

“That's what I hope for,” she oddly thought of all the times he turned her down,  wondering if he was regretting them, “But is that too selfish of me? Is that me being naive?”

“No,  it's not selfish of you.  I should be able to give that to you.” He ran his hand over his slicked hair, “but I'd like to say something if I could,” he looked at her for silent permission.

She nodded.

“I wish I'd stayed professional with all this,” he knew that part would sound harsh,  but he paused before the rest,  “Because you are the best I've ever felt with somebody in that way…in a lot of ways actually. And going forward now knowing what I'm missing,  knowing what we had…I just hate that I have to gatekeep what I didn't before” he stumbled around his words a little, looking frustrated.

“I know what you mean,” she tried to reassure him, “The idea of doing anything to hurt Scott makes me sick to my stomach…but it doesn't stop me from thinking about you. You were my first,  I'm always going to remember what we were,” she reached out,  resting her hand on the inside of his elbow. 

“I know you moving on is the right thing,  baby girl.  I just hate the idea of being left behind,” he laid his hand over hers, “But I want you to do well…I want you to turn this place on its head.  Be the first woman to get top billing. Of anyone…you can do it.”

“Thanks for believing in me all this time,” she squeezed his hand a little,  “Curt if you want-” she started but he cut her off.

“I want you to do well in this match.  And I know in my gut you will, so just…focus on that,” he said, squeezing back harder.  He knew what she was about to offer; either inspired to out of pity for him or out of mutual desire, maybe even nostalgia…he knew nothing down that path was going to help her.  And his job had been to help her. 

Letting her go was the best thing he could do for her now. 

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

Brinkley didn't think she'd ever been this nervous on this side of the curtain. Even her first day was less nerve wracking than this.  Her pulse thundered in her ears as she focused on her breath and tried to blank out the last few months. 

“Don't forget,” Curt reminded her,  hoping that any conversation would be calming, “you're not my valet this time.  You're my partner. First time and last time with me, “ he looked over her outfit,  the long leggings a better choice than her ass half hanging out of her shorts…at least for this match. The leggings were still stunning, criss-crossed orange and black lines went up the outside of each leg,  large swaths were thin mesh,  leaving a lot of skin somewhat exposed. The purple was perfect against her skin. 

The top was another piece he bought,  the strappy corset laced top. It added the perfect subtle sexuality to her outfit, not that she needed the help.

“Partners,” Brinkley reached out her hand, Curt took it, nodding his head as he smiled. 

“One last time,” He took a deep breath as the entrance music began playing. 

This time, he went out first, playing to the crowd and then building up Brinkley’s entrance to a surprisingly loud pop from the crowd. The sound made Brinkley grin widely. She wondered if the face turn would carry through her turning on Curt. They had been heels, but if the match was done like they’d planned…Curt would remain a heel and she would be the face among the Outsiders. That is until she adapted to their sneaky ways. 

She felt comfortable with their plans. The future wasn’t scary - she wasn’t nervous or mournful like she thought she might feel. Curt hyped her up on the way to the ring as the camera followed closely. 

The intimidating factor came from the two large men waiting in the ring for them. She almost wished she was still mad at Scott, it would make keeping a straight face easier. Especially with the way that Scott and Kevin looked at her like they were going to devour her. She did realize that she was the prize of the match - she let that boost her confidence and distract from the imposing opponents ahead. 

She and Curt played to the crowd, mimicking each other's movements while they stood on the ropes in opposite corners. They synchronized their gum slapping and the crowd ate every bit of it up.

As they all four stood in the ring, separated only by the referee who was telling them to get to their corners, Brinkley pleaded to start the match. She enjoyed the acting part of kayfabe and she was among three of the best at it. 

“C’mon Hennig, let me start, I can take these old guys!” She insulted them, as if Curt wasn’t the same age as them.

“Yeah, Hennig, let her take us on, let us have a go at the rookie,” Kevin nodded, sarcastically smiling as his words were meant to be insulting. 

“Yeah, we got lots of moves for what’s about to be ours,” Scott pulled on a strand of her hair lightly, stepping back quickly as she shot him a warning look. The crowd responded as well.

“Yaaaaawn, same old tired moves you've been using for the last 15 years?  Spare me,” she rolled her eyes, taking a step back as Scott started for her.

Curt shoved him back, barking at Brinkley to get to their corner.  She frowned as if offended.

“Yeah, sweetheart, wait in the corner like a good little girl,” Kevin doubled down on his disrespectful tone. She flipped him off, but retreated through the ropes as did Kevin, Scott and Curt beginning their dance around the middle of the ring.  After smacking gum through the air and a toothpick being thrown, the two locked up.  

Brinkley tried to encourage Curt, holding her hand out for a tag but was denied when she was ignored. She played up throwing a tantrum, even playing the first couple of rows of fans that his refusal was “bullshit”. A contingent of fans started a change of the word, turning into a chorus against Curt. He was on the losing end now, Scott and Kevin having exchanged places a few times by now. Curt was far from the ‘fresh man’ in. 

“CURT, COME ON!” Brinkley yelled, reaching her arm dramatically out over the rope as far as she could manage. The crowd was behind her, the chant now changing to “Tag her! Tag her!”

Curt took a clothesline and stumbled backwards, his hand falling into hers as she took the tag and he rolled out to the floor. She jumped into the ring, a disheveled Scott staring her down from the middle of the ring. He held up both hands, beckoning her to try him. He looked back at Kevin, both pointing at her and laughing. She took the chance to leg sweep him to the canvas, standing again quickly while looking down at his stunned face. 

“Oh you got tricks?” He looked threatening at her, “Let’s do this then,” 

He locked up with her, reminding her quietly to keep breathing through every move and that he was swinging her into the ropes. She followed the direction, sliding between his legs and grabbing his ankles, again leaving him on his back on the canvas. He cursed, slapping the ring in frustration as she ‘outsmarted’ him again. 

She walked too close to the opponents corner and Kevin grabbed her, holding her against the turnbuckle. Scott lined up a punch, but right before he corrected, she slipped out of the grip downward, Scott connecting with Kevin instead and knocking him off the ring apron.

Scott looked over the rope at Kevin laying on the mats below, Brinkley threw herself into the opposite rope and toward Scott, hitting him with an arm bar that sent him over the top rope as well, landing on top of Kevin. 

The thunderous pop from the crowd was deafening. She tried to not wince as the noise overwhelmed her ears. But she held up a hand above her head,  calling for more. 

The referee started counting out Scott who took nearly 8 of the count to roll back in.  She had to use every ounce of her acting to not react to the dark ‘anger’ in Scott's eyes. He locked up with her again,  once more slinging her into the ropes and hooking her into an arm bar takedown. She landed flat with a loud thud on the mat. She sold the fall, rolling to her side and moaning into the mat.

She looked toward her home corner and Curt was leaning over the rope, barking a demand that she tag him, she ‘drug’ herself towards him,  but Scott grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her backwards to his corners, now tagging Kevin. 

Kevin held her in the corner and she braced herself for the chops she knew was coming. He left them high to avoid a tit-shot, but there was careless padding higher and the slap stung, redding her skin. She sold it well, slipping downward again, only for Kevin to grab her by the hair.

She went for the easy low blow, Kevin selling like a champ as he went down into a fetal position. She knew Curt wanted back in and she should tag him,  but she was having fun. And being with Scott and Kevin moving forward, who knew when she'd have a chance to fight them again?

But she was getting winded for real at this point and made a dramatic crawl that the crowd reacted to with supportive cheers; yelling louder and louder as she drew closer. She'd gotten at least 6-7 minutes in. 

Just as Kev tagged Scott and he quickly stepped in, she slapped Curt's outstretched fingers and he came flying in with fresh energy, pummeling Scott. She rolled out under the ropes, “recovering”.

She caught her breath, hearing the bumps in the ring as she reached under it. The folding chair was exactly where it was supposed to be as she slid it out and slowly made her way to her feet. She held up her finger to her lips to the fans at the barricade as she played out her secret “cheat”.

She wondered how much heat she might actually pull as “ooooo's” filtered through the nearby crowd. She waited several minutes until her opportune moment presented itself, watching as Scott got the upperhand, and Curt was trying to mount a comeback.

She slid in the ring with the chair as Kevin had the attention of the ref, trying to enter the ring. The crowd popped when she picked up the chair, her knuckles white as she gripped the legs tightly. A thousand thoughts spun through her mind, but she ignored any objections of her own - knowing this was the best thing for the story line. 

She landed a loud, safe slap of the metal chair against Curt’s back and stood for a moment while the crowd hushed for a second before reacting in surprise. Scott fell forward over Curt as Kevin pointed the ref to the cover. 1, 2, 3. 

The heat from the crowd was instant and it bled over to Kevin who came over and celebrated with her. Scott was up moments later, each man holding a wrist of her’s in victory. 

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She waited in the wings of the gorilla as they exited for Curt as he came back through the curtain. She couldn’t tell if he was mad or just exhausted. Maybe both. But as he looked up at her, trying to smooth back his hair, he grinned a little and smirked as he shook his head. 

“Wasn’t expecting that…” He admitted, “But…it was by far the best way to do it.” He didn’t like feeling like he was left out of the conversation, but he also knew she owed him a couple of receipts for a couple of different reasons, “Are we even now? Or do I still gotta watch my back around you?” He joked. 

“I feel like I should be able to still get in one rib before we call it even,” She postured, “but I GUESS we can call a truce,” She held out her hand to him. He looked at it and after a brief pause, shook her hand. They both smiled, but he could see tears creeping into the corner of her eyes. 

“Thank you for everything, Curt,” She said through the ache in her throat. She felt silly for getting emotional. She would see him every night for the foreseeable future. They would likely be feeding in the ring, too. He would be trying to convince her to come back only for her to set him up for a Scott and Kevin melee. 

But regardless, it felt like the end of an era for her.  She finished shaking his hand, pulling away as they walked down the hall to wear Scott waited for her, slinging his arms across her shoulders.

“You guys headed out tonight?” Curt asked, “Got room in the back unless you wanna fight Steiner for the front,” he joked. 

“Nope, in the morning, heading back to Scott's tonight,” Brinkley said, looking forward to that big house with just the two of them, “Kev's gonna swing by and get us,”

“We've still got a follow up interview to do for the next tv,” Scott reminded her as she started to untie her boots. She groaned, starting to lace them back up. 

“I forgot about that, I'll be there in just a sec,” she told Scott, waving him on. He kissed her temple, making her giggle as he tickled her cheek with his stubble.

Sweaty coworkers filtered in and out, interrupting her lacing to compliment her on the match, almost always giving Curt his due credit, though he shrugged it off, humbly. He gave her all the accolades. Some even talked about possibly working together with Scott and Kevin.

When Russo came in with a compliment through his gritted teeth, Brinkley had to bite back her I told you so's, she took a page from Curt's book of humility and simply thanked him. 

She looked at Curt who was finishing buttoning his shirt, “Guess we'll see you in Atlanta, then,” she said as he zipped his bag closed.

“See you in Atlanta, Brink. Keep those boys in line,  now,” he teased, slapping her lightly on the shoulder as he walked out of the locker room. He walked alone to the car, knowing Ricky would be out soon. He tossed his bag into the trunk,  laughing to himself as he imagined what mouthy, genius promo Brinkley was probably cutting against him. He looked forward to being as surprised as everyone else tomorrow when he saw it on a backstage monitor.

He had a few ideas of what she might say, each one making him laugh more than the last.

As he drove down the dark highway once again, he thought of how she would do great things. Her name would be in the marquee long after he'd retire. Who knows? Maybe in a strange twist he'd end up her valet.

“Everybody's jealous of your match,” Rick said, slouched down in the passenger seat with a baseball cap pulled over his eyes,  “No one's gonna want to follow that kid,” he said.

Curt felt a genuine pride and some relief. But the credit for winning over everyone else was squarely with Brinkley. That was her gift, her natural talent. If only everyone had that,  the locker room would be a far better place.

But as the night wore on and the yellow dotted lines passed by in the headlights, he felt content. He felt peace.

He'd done his job, he'd taught her well.

And though he hadn't expected it, he was thankful for all the things she'd taught him along the way, too.

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 10

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 10 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 4069

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

There were a number of questions vollied at them when they showed up at the arena. Kevin grilled Scott, and if Brinkley wasn't mistaken,  seemed like he had been up with worry all night. He glared at Brinkley from afar multiple times.  She took the hint to avoid him.  She still wasn't happy with what he'd pulled, but she was much less upset than before. 

She had to assume that Scott had fucked a lot of the frustration right out of her. 

She wondered if Kevin could perhaps sniff out what was going on or what had happened last night.  Maybe he felt as if she was moving in on Scott and he didn't want to share his best friend. 

“BRINK,” Curt snapped his fingers in her face.

She jolted and pulled herself out of her own thoughts. 

“What??” She responded,  irritated at being interrupted.

“Get your ass moving, we're up next,” he motioned for her to move quicker, “get out of la-la-land,” he snapped at her with his hand towel. 

“Geez, alright alright!” She snipped, rubbing the stinging flesh on her thigh before she went back to lacing up her boots. She was relieved when Page agreed to let her interfere more physically. It was only a house show,  but it was still important to her.

Page was still the face, but Brinkley heard more cheers than normal as she and Curt entered. They still had plenty of opposing fans to ridicule down the walkway.

“You're about to turn,” Curt said into her ear while they walked to the ring, “I can tell,”

Brinkley wasn't sure what to think.  She'd always been the villain, it had been an escape for the idyllic, sheltered existence she'd left behind her. She hadn't expected this response. 

“But I don't wanna,” she pouted, playing into her whiny role. Curt cupped her face as they stood by the ring apron. 

“You'll be alright, baby girl, just let me handle it,” he assured her with a wink. 

She didn't know if his response was kayfabe or real.  She'd have to find out after the match.  For now she was focused on having to sell a Diamond Cutter finishing move.  

She interfered and because of that was “accidentally” given the move.  As she lay on the mat, she heard the crowd murmur and then boo Page.  Curt suplexed him for the win.  

He checked on her to make sure she was really alright,  then pulled her out of the ring.  She pretended to come-to enough to walk with his assistance.

“You're welcome,” Page said, coming in from the ring.

“For what?” She asked, “I'm the one that made you  look good,” she stuck her tongue out playfully.

“I'm the one that put you over,” he looked at her and Curt knowingly.

“But I -” she started,  but was shut down by Curt.

“We are going to have to workshop her character,” Curt said,  knowing Page was involved with Creative, “She needs to start working matches during house shows.”

Brinkley didn't argue with others around. She knew how disrespectful it would come across to second-guess Curt in front of everyone. She knew things had to be done a certain way.  That was a ‘day one’ thing Curt had taught her. 

She waited until they were in the car before she spoke up. 

“But am I really ready to be a face?” She questioned,  definitely not confident in the idea yet. 

“I think it's a good time for you to try,” he said with all the confidence.

“Scott,” she whined, hoping he'd side with her.

“Hey,  I'm for it,” he looked back at her somewhat apologetic, “Me and Kev are gonna bring you in with us. I can't complain.”

“What?!” She looked between them both several times,  “when was this discussed?”

“Doll, your first day here,” Scott said, remembering back to her shy introduction, “I called dibs on you,”

Brinkley wanted to be upset, but thinking about Scott wanting to have her from day one gave her a smug satisfaction.

“Are you staying with Kev tonight?” She asked, ignoring the awkward feeling of Curt hearing everything. 

“Probably…” Scott said, feeling a heavy disappointment.

“Jesus, for fuck's sake,” Curt rolled his eyes, “I'll go to the bar and you two have the room for a few hours. Just don't break any of the furniture.” He warned. 

Scott looked back at her with a wicked smirk. 

“No promises. Right, Brink?”

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Curt sat at a table, empty whiskey glasses in front of him. He was relieved that Brinkley was interested in Scott. However, she’d become such a part of his everyday, that he wondered what separation would look like. He couldn’t stop thinking about what may be going on in the hotel room he was paying for. 

He didn’t know what irritated him more, the fact that he was thinking about that, or Kevin’s indirect line of questioning. He seemed to fare similarly when his right-hand person was M.I.A.

“So, what you’re saying is we’re going to end up with her, but you are still gonna be her trainer?” Kevin asked, pondering the idea. At this point, he was a significant voice on the creative team. If he was on board, it wouldn’t likely be necessary to convince anyone else. 

“Yeah, pretty much, she might need to transition to another trainer at some point like we all did, but probably not just yet. Kowalski did a good job with Chyna, but she’d have to take some time off,” Curt mused aloud. 

“Then she’d be off TV again for a while. If she’s getting momentum, can’t do that,” Kevin took a swig looking back at the door as if expecting Scott to come waltzing through at any moment, “Maybe I’ll train her,”

Curt laughed.

“Pretty sure you’re just wanting an excuse to throw her around,” though he was amused by the suggestion, he absolutely did not think Kevin and Brinkley could coexist in that way. 

“You’re right, I don’t need her brand of headache anyway,” He shrugged off his own suggestion, “Scott could,”

Curt had honestly considered it before. He separated their positions - Curt had trained her first and the physical affection came later. Scott’s interaction with her started that way. He didn’t think there was much of a chance of Scott successfully training her at anything except being his fuck buddy. He did feel a surge of aggression when he wondered if she would call Scott ‘daddy’. 

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

Brinkley tried to act completely collected as Curt readied and left for the bar. As soon as the door closed, she scrambled off the bed and to the bathroom, dolling herself up just a little. She dug through her bag, frustrated at the lack of sexy, showy options. She didn’t want to lug around an entire wardrobe, but she would need to figure out something better than this, especially if she wanted to make an impression.

A set of quick raps on the door made her forget that problem. She opened it and Scott stood on the other side of it, his arm leaning on the doorway. 

“Evening,” His slight smile and downward gaze gave away his intentions immediately. She felt stupid for giggling, but the noise rose out of her unintentionally. 

“How nice of you to drop by,” She stepped aside, inviting him in, “Can I get you anything,” She sarcastically offered in her best hostess impression.

“Yeah, your pussy full of my tongue,” He shut the door behind him and quickly yanked his shirt off. He knew they’d have a few hours, but he intended to fill them as much as would her. 

Brinkley liked his direct method. It left no guessing about what he wanted. She felt small and helpless as he stalked towards her and she liked it. She backed up until the back of her knees hit the bed, letting gravity sit her on the edge of it. Before she could scoot back any farther, he grabbed ahold of one of her ankles and yanked on the legs of her pants, slipping them from her easily. She bit her lip as he still approached her, crawling across the bed now. 

When her back hit the headboard, he closed in on her. His fingers gripped around the lacy hem of her panties and yanked them down, effectively ripping the side seam out. She gasped, the proof of his brute strength made her sex throb. 

Her knees were closed, but his hand slid between them, allowing him to crawl between her slowly opening legs. She had a small twinge of uncertainty at someone new in such an intimate space, but the moment his tongue darted across her sensitive clit, her eyes fluttered closed and she forgot any inhibition that previously existed.

Scott hummed against the sweet taste of her juices that painted his tongue as he licked a trail up and down her slit. He moved slowly, savoring her and listening to the sounds it elicited from her. He wanted her to enjoy this; he wanted her craving him. He wanted her to be desperate for more. 

Brinkley could barely handle leaving her eyes open to see Scott’s head slowly bobbing between her thighs. She could feel his rough stubble against her pussy lips and it felt even better than she’d imagined. As his tongue slowly circled her clit, she felt the tingles building, rolling her hips ever so slightly. His tongue slipped down though, teasing the edge of her aching entrance, building a different kind of tingle. She felt herself drawing close again only for him to switch his focus.

Scott laughed to himself as she squirmed more and more underneath him. She was fun to tease. She didn’t seem to know he was doing so on purpose yet, making her longing whimpers like music to his ears. He suckled her clit now, letting two fingers slip into her needy cunt. She nearly melted into the mattress as he massaged her g-spot and wiggled his tongue across her pulsing clit. 

“Scott, god pleeeease,” She looked down at him, her thighs quivering, her body flushed with want. 

“Please what?” He looked up at her with a dark stare, his lips damp from her juices, his fingers working deeper inside of her. His feral look nearly made her cum, her sex clenching around his fingers. 

“Please let me cum,” She pleaded, enjoying the idea that he was in control of her. He seemed to appreciate her approach.

“Please let you cum, what,” He slowed his fingers, not letting her move quickly against them. 

Brinkley was stuck in his gaze, her eyes searching his. She had an idea of what he wanted her to say. After all he had been witness to her calling Curt that very thing. But for some reason, she was unsure. 

Scott could see the uncertainty on her face immediately and silently cursed himself for trying to work that wordplay in so early. He assumed that it took a while for Curt and her to develop that level. He began to retract, but she spoke first. 

“Please let me cum, sir,” She bit her lip and looked at him as innocently as she could. 

Scott took the consolation without hesitation. He pumped his fingers quicker, slipping a third in. He pressed the muscled flat of his tongue against her nub and rubbed it roughly in time with his fingers, feeling and tasting her orgasm as she pressed herself more firmly against his face.

Brinkley’s breath stalled as her voice caught in her throat. Her head thunked against the headboard as the pressure in her sex released a burning crescendo of pleasure. She gasped for breath between the quaking tremors, feeling lightheaded by the force of her orgasm. 

“Gonna have to call housekeeping for some new sheets,” His gruff voice spoke gently, still letting his fingers stroke her shuddering insides softly. 

Brinkley looked down to see a damp spot soaking the blanket below her and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“That’s so hot, baby girl,” He crooned, as if knowing she was unsure, “Never done that before?” 

She shook her head, feeling better with Scott’s praise. 

“Maybe we’ll make this Curt’s bed,” She joked, her voice still trembling a little. 

“Naughty girl, I like the way you think,” Scott lifted himself up, kissing her panting mouth, letting her taste her own juices from his lips and tongue.He remembered her fervent reaction with anything on her neck and let his lips slide there next. She did not disappoint him, arching up against him as he bit and pulled the skin lightly, “Let’s see how wet you can really get it,” 

Scott plunged his fingers back in as he resisted really biting her and leaving tell tale marks that would likely draw a lot of attention. She inhaled sharply, not ready for the onslaught of his controlled but fierce ministrations. She felt tingling in her core again as she clamped down on his fingers, crying out wordlessly as she came again. 

He slid his soaked fingers from her assaulted cunt and spread the wetness up and down her slit. He looked up at her as he did, that same intense stare making her feel like she was about to be the victim of a very brutal assault. 

“Good girl,” He praised and she was sure those words alone might have soaked the bed more. She saw him fumbling with that belt again. She wondered why he even bothered putting it on. His dick was big enough to hold his pants up anyway. Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned down and pulled the tip of her nipple with his teeth, letting it pop back just before she would have asked him to stop. The prickling pain morphed quickly into a smoldering pleasure. He did it again, letting go just as she whimpered, working the hardening bud into an aching peak. 

“If I ever hurt you…tell me,” He kissed the valley between her breasts as he made his way to the other, “I only want you to feel good with me,” His rasp inflamed and chilled her at the same time. She couldn’t help but shiver, arching again as he drew the other nipple between his teeth.

“I will,” She nearly hissed just as he let go again. He leered at her with an expectant look as he paused, “I mean….yes, sir,” She said with a sheepish grin.

“That’s better,” His tongue bathed the tip of her tit now, a welcome softness to his earlier enjoyable torture, “Don’t let it happen again,” He growled as he nipped again.

She could hear the belt loose now, hanging from his jeans as his zipper descended. She felt a rush of excitement as he rolled to his back and kicked his jeans to the floor. There was more light now, and more opportunity to really take in the sight of him. To her she couldn’t imagine more of an ideal specimen of masculinity. 

She didn't realize she licked her lips as her eyes took in the entirety of him.  She crawled over to him,  kissing his shoulder down to his chest, nipping at his nipple in a similar, teasing fashion. She smirked as he hissed in return, but still watched her, one hand toying with his hardening member.

She took her time kissing down his torso, her tongue savoring the taste of his skin. She bit his hipbone lightly before she made a trail to his swelling shaft. 

“Look how hard you make me,” he built her up more, “so damn hard, baby,”

He held his cock for her, letting her tease the pulsing tip with her lips. He bucked up his hips as soon as she took the tiniest bit of him in,  filling her mouth quickly. She took the hint,  letting her lips slide farther down on each pass. His cock stretched her lips and made taking him deeper challenging. But she was always up for a challenge.

She used his groans and praises to mark her actions, repeating what garnered the most of both. She looked up at him as she did so,  hoping she was sucking his cock well,  but also looking good while doing it. 

“Jesus, you look so hot with my dick in your pretty mouth,” he grumbled, his teeth on edge. His hand slid over the top of her head and encouraged her to move faster and slip him deeper. She resisted choking when his glans would probe her throat, gasping for breath when he pulled his cock from her mouth and slapped it against her lips. 

“I need that fucking pussy now,” he demanded, his words cracking an invisible whip, “on your knees, girl,”

Brinkley felt her subservient obedience kick in like a natural response as she turned on all fours. 

“Yes, sir,”

She watched him over her shoulder,  biting her lip as he knelt behind her. She heard him fumbling with something, hearing a paper-like tearing sound. 

“Need to be more careful than last time,” he slipped the condom over himself,  running his hands over the curve of her taut ass appreciatively, “gonna be hard enough not to just fuck you all the time,” he laid a sharp smack on one cheek. She jumped and whimpered but waited for another. 

Scott admired the temporary outline of his handprint, evening up on the other cheek. He ran his tip through her slit and pressed against her entrance. Though she was as wet as could be, he still struggled against the tightening confines of her sex.

He had to wonder if Curt hadn't really fucked her very much. She was shaking as he sank in,  her face falling to the bed,  keeping her perky ass perched in the air. 

He let her acclimate as he sheathed himself fully into her.  He ran a hand slowly up her back and back down, calming her reserve. He didn't shame her, that was far too harsh. 

He grabbed her hips as he started to move in her,  slowly at first but with ever-increasing force. 

She yelped into the bed each time he bottomed out,  feeling a new pleasure center being struck.  She had to keep herself from trying to crawl away. She felt as if she was seeing stars every time he thrusted in her.  She felt lightheaded as he smacked her ass again. 

“Baby,  you have no idea how good this looks,” Scott said,  almost horsley, as he looked at her pussy, swallowing his cock with each thrust, “taking it like my good girl,” he felt her spasm around his member and grinned.  

Brinkley rolled her eyes back as she came again, shockwaves emanating from her core outward. She had the blanket balled up in her fists, breathing through clenched teeth. She gasped when she felt his hand sliding along her scalp and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. 

She felt immobilized by his control,  absorbing every intense thrust whether she could handle them or not. She barely managed to open her eyes,  met with a mirror reflection across the room of herself with Scott behind her, a pleasured, determined look on his face. 

She felt odd watching herself being fucked,  but had to admit,  she looked good being fucked by Scott. Especially the way he was manhandling her.

“You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asked with a deep gruffness.

Her response paused, another thing she'd never done, but curiosity flooded her as much as her desire to give him what he wanted. She tried to nod, but was still held captive by his hand on her hair. 

“Yes. Yes,  sir,” she  managed as he thrusted in her quickly.

“Get over here,” he growled, regretfully pulling out of her and ripping off the condom. He stood at the side of the bed as she turned around quickly,  still dizzied by the ferocity of his prowess. She lay on her stomach, looking up at him with her mouth open as he quickly stroked his cock.

“Tongue out,” he demanded, holding himself directly over her waiting mouth. As she slipped it out,  he felt his balls tighten and his cum shot from the tip, his seed collecting on her tongue and lips.

She sucked his spunk down, swallowing it just in time to receive another generous spurt. She couldn't quite place the taste of it, but didn't let it linger too long before swallowing.

Scott watched with smug gratification at how eagerly she lapped up his cum. And the way she looked at him the entire time he found incredibly hot. He let her suck the last drops from the tip, shuddering as he became hypersensitive to every touch. 

She let his cock fall from her mouth and pulled herself up to her knees. 

“Was it good?” She asked with a modest concern.

“Are you fucking serious?” Scott stood directly in front of her,  out of breath,  his forehead dotted with sweat, his body flushed  from his sexual exertion, “Look at me,  I'm a damn mess,” he let out a raspy laugh, “Good doesn't begin to describe it,”

She looked proud, but insecure that she even had to ask. 

“Sorry …I just…I'd never done it that way,” her cheeks burned as she sat back against her heels. 

“Don't ever apologize,” his hand caught her chin from looking down, “not when you're that stellar of a fuck,”

She wasn't sure how to take the compliment,  but had to grin at his earnest expression.

“Well…” she reached out to him, her hand slowly massaging his balls, “it is still pretty early….”

“Fucking christ, girl,” he groaned, but did not pull away.

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

Curt stumbled into the dark room half expecting to still see Scott here defiling Brinkley, but the room was quiet and still. He felt relieved, kicking his shoes off to the side. 

“Brinkley?” He called out in the dark with no answer. He could see her in bed, snuggled under the covers asleep. She was alone, not that he’d expected Scott to stay the entire night. Part of him hoped she’d still be awake, wanting to tell him about everything she’d done that night and the selfish part of him had hoped she’d share that she was still somewhat unfulfilled and needed him to finish the job. 

Clearly that wasn’t the case. 

He sighed, but stripped down to his underwear and flopped into bed.

“What the fuck??” He exclaimed as a cold dampness lay under him. Turning on the light and lifting up the blanket, he could see the wet spot spread to the sheets, “Are you fucking kidding me…” It was obvious to him that she indeed had a pleasurable evening. He turned the light back off and he slipped into Brinkley’s bed instead. He had to appreciate the rib, but he couldn’t help but be a little ticked off at the same time. But she was the one that now had to share her bed; the more he thought about it, he’d hoped she’d share a little more.

She moaned and turned over toward him as he laid down. It was easy to see that she was naked as he’d climbed in, with his buzz, he could definitely use some female company. He slid closer to her, pulling his cock out at the same time.

He took her hand and placed it on his shaft, rousing her a little.

“Scott?” She mumbled, struggling to open her eyes, “Oh, Curt…what are you doing?” Still lethargic from sleep, she struggled to come to. 

“Daddy needs some help,” He moved her hand up and down his shaft, “If you think you can handle it.” 

“I don’t know, Daddy, I’m…I’m kinda sore,” she whined a little in her sleepy voice, “Or I would,” She woke a little more now, moving her hand on her own, “And tired…can we wait until tomorrow? Unless this is all you want…” 

Curt felt foolish and irritated, but couldn’t very well blame her for being honest. 

“Of course we can,” He sighed, but hummed when she didn’t pull her hand back right away. Even if he didn’t cum, her touch felt nice. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” She mewled, snuggling up against his chest. She’d wished Scott could stay so she could sleep against him. It was such a nice way to wake up. But Curt was also an incredibly nice body to curl up against.

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 15

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 15 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 3396

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing Tag List: @writeandsurvive @theweaselandthekilt (feel free to ask to be added)

“I figured she’d be here by now,” Scott checked his watch again, but no sign of Brinkley. He’d thought she’d be fine on her own. She’d smarted off that she didn’t need a baby sitter, but even the guys didn’t travel alone much. It was better to have someone to at least watch your back.

“Probably lost track of time,” Kevin could tell Scott was worried or at the very least anxious, “She’s a tough girl,”

Scott wasn’t sure if he was more worried about her safety or if who his imagination suggested she might be with.

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

“GOD, I haven’t had red meat in so long,” Brinkley nearly passed out as she chowed down probably the best burger she’d ever had in her life. She hadn’t had a cheat day in months - she could splurge a little. 

Curt chuckled a little as he took a bite of his own. He knew some would be upset if they knew she was here with just him. But, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was here by choice. He laughed to himself again as she took another bite and let out a satisfied groan. 

“Not sure I’ve ever heard you make those noises before,” He joked, but his smile fell a little as he thought better of the comment in retrospect.

“Sure you have,” She nudged him under the table with her foot, “You’ve heard worse,”

He was relieved that she felt comfortable enough to joke about such things.

“Well…I guess,” He couldn’t stop his instinctive wink. 

Brinkley smirked back at him, but did not like the uneasy feeling in her gut that was telling her she was doing something wrong. Curt noticed a change in her face.

“You alright?” He asked, wiping his hands on a napkin, looking mildly concerned.

“Yeah…just probably my stomach not liking all this fat and grease,” She joked, willing it to pass. 

“Told you it’d do that…” Curt was smug, recalling his warning long ago when he was staging her diet. He checked his watch, noticing they still had a couple of hours before they had to be at the arena, “Do you wanna kill some time before the show?”

Brinkley’s stomach tingled again, but she ignored it as she considered his offer. Perhaps it was foolish, but she found herself willing to trust him again. Afterall he wasn’t the first person to be an asshole when drunk. She placed the boundary there - she could trust him sober. 

“Sure, what’d you have in mind?”

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

Country music played over the radio, nothing new when it came to riding with Curt. He had a different rental car now - no long front bench seat. The console between them was a welcome barrier for Brinkley who knew in all logical scenarios that nothing would happen. But she knew, even now, that there was a weakness in her specifically for Curt. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but it was definitely there. 

He drove through a natural everglades area where all that existed were only power poles, a few clusters of palm trees, and sawgrass broken up by wetlands. The narrow highway had few other cars. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was better than any concrete jungle. 

“Makes me want to go fishing,” She lamented, passing yet another boggy lake that was probably teeming with wildlife. 

“I love fishing down here, especially on the ocean - not far from here is where I got that shark on my wall at home,” He tried to watch the scenery too, but kept turning back to her. 

“You’ve mentioned that a time or two,” She teased, having sat through the bullshark story multiple times, “What?” She asked, catching him looking yet again. She was dressed down in leggings, a sports bra and a loose-fitting tank top, she was no stunner right now. 

“Nothing…” He blushed a little being caught, “Just realized the last week or so has been weird because I missed this. You know, riding together, bullshitting. Guess I didn’t realize how used to you I got,”

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us realized that. It's been weird for me, too, ya know,” She wanted to put her hand on top of his that rested on the gear shift. 

“I bet. Having to share a room with those two constantly would be a big change by itself,” He had been wondering how that arrangement was going. It had shot a few eyebrows up, but Scott didn’t seem to be hiding anything anymore. 

“Well…I kinda don’t anymore,” Brinkley admitted, chewing her bottom lip a little as Curt looked over curiously, “It felt too much like…living together? And way too soon to even think about that. Staying a couple days at his house was one thing…but together every night day in and day out. I’d get on his nerves. I don’t think it’d last very long,”

“Tell me about it,” Curt teased, taking a firm nudge from her. 

“Hey! I’m not THAT bad,” She pushed his arm, “...was I?” She followed after a thought of uncertainty. 

“Nah, I’ve had way worse travel buddies,” He shrugged his shoulders, “Way worse,”

“Yeah, but did you ever rib any of them into a surprise threesome,” She said, trying to get shocked reaction. 

Curt feigned thought and she slapped his shoulder as he laughed. 

“But I got you good, didn’t I?” He cocked one eyebrow at her. She tried to pout but couldn’t resist smirking. Curt felt the weight that had been weighing on him the last several days lift away. 

“So paying for your own room gets pricey after a while,” He cleared his throat, knowing he wasn’t being subtle. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Curt,” She said, though she sounded somewhat forlorn about it, “For a few reasons. But yeah, it would add up if Scott wasn’t paying half. I told him he didn’t have to, he’s basically paying for a whole room.”

“Yeah, but how many times might he be in yours…it probably comes out even,” Curt reasoned. He noticed she blushed, “You don’t have to act like I don’t know what goes on between you two,”

“I know…it’s just -” She thought for a moment on how to put this, “It’s still weird for me, navigating everything. And now I’m doing it without you,” She sighed, “Just a lot of adjustments. It's kinda scary being alone sometimes.” She looked around curiously when Curt pulled the car over onto a gravel shoulder and parked.

“I know I didn’t make things any easier on you,” He said turning to face her, “I am truly sorry for anything I did ever that hurt you,” 

Brinkley could see the sincerity in his eyes and couldn’t stop looking at them. She felt desire and guilt collide in her gut and found herself very confused at the mixture of feelings. 

“I know you are, Curt.” Her hand itched to reach up and touch his face. But her stomach twisted at the thought of betraying Scott, “I think I can trust you from now on…as long as you aren't drinking,” 

“Well that made my day…” he flashed a smile, “You know…if you're ever too scared or anything.  You can always call me…” he offered, “I'll have a roommate, probably Ray, but you know everyone likes you. You're always welcome.”

“Thanks…I appreciate the offer, but at some point I gotta grow up a little,” she shrugged, biting her tongue to keep from asking if he'd just come to her room instead. She knew what those kinds of invitations could imply and clearly she wasn't disciplined enough quite yet with the thoughts flittering through her mind.

“We should get back,” Curt clenched his jaw as he noticed the digital clock in the car, “Don't want anyone worrying about you,”

Brinkley knew that was barely code for Scott. She nodded, finding herself slightly disappointed.

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

“Where the hell have you been?” Scott asked as he saw her enter the back door of the arena. His eyes went to Curt as he walked in directly behind her,  “What's this?” He asked,  barely concealing his accusation.

“He was the only one at the gym.  He just gave me a ride,” she said in an even tone,  hoping to not rile him up further. He reached out for her,  pulling her to his side.  He kept a warning glare on Curt as he encouraged her to walk down the hall. 

“I'm fine,  Scott. You don't have to worry about me…” she set her things down in the locker room.

“Its not so much you I'm worried about,  it's him and whether he's learned to keep his damn hands to himself,”

Brinkley couldn't help but enjoy the way Scott desired to protect her,  even if it was a little patriarchal. She went over to him,  slipping her arms around his torso and laid her head against his chest. 

“I didn't mean to make you worry, I'm sorry,” she was relieved when he returned her embrace. 

“I'm gonna be honest,  I don't like caring about other people this much.  It's not easy to trust people.  Especially around here. I don't want to be made into a fool,” he stroked her hair, but his words felt like a warning,  even a veiled insult.

She swallowed any offense she felt. She could butter him up later and hopefully make up completely. She definitely did not like being on his bad side. 

“Did Scott say much?” Curt asked as they were alone in the gorilla once again.

“A little…but nothing really much,” Brinkley adjusted the sports bra top paired with the black shorts, “Do you like it?”

“It looks incredible on you.  Hell, what wouldn't?” He looked her over.  He bought the damn clothes. He should be able to look. 

“The other shorts my ass half hangs out of them…. Saving those for the pay per view. People will be paying 29.99 for each cheek,” she joked. 

“And lucky me,  I get the view for free,” Curt teased. 

“Nothing you haven't seen before,” she teased back,  getting ready to open the curtain. Just as she stepped out,  he leaned in to her ear. 

“Nothing I haven't fucked before either,” he murmured, smug that she'd have to spend the next fifteen minutes in front of the crowd without responding. 

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

Brinkley was glad the next show was in Miami, they didn't have to change hotels, staying near Hollywood, Florida. She was tired and was happy to decline the invitation to go to a nearby club. Even Kevin tried to convince her to go,  again raising her suspicion that he and Scott were in on this together. 

She was comfy in a tank top and panties,  not having to care about appearances in her own room.  That alone was freeing. She cranked up the air to combat the humidity and collapsed on the bed to mindlessly watch tv just as there was a knock at her door. She groaned and drug herself off the bed. Looking through the peephole, she instantly recognized that stubbled chin. She opened the door with her hand on her hip.

“Can I help you?” She said playfully, but her face fell when she saw Kevin standing right next to Scott. His eyebrows went up as he reactively looked her over before she darted herself behind the door. 

“Well…I was making sure you didn’t wanna come with us to the club,” Scott stepped a foot in the door, “But now I’m kinda thinking I’ve got other plans,” 

“No, I told you I’m getting some rest in while I have the chance,” She saw Kevin step in after him, “Hey, I didn’t say you guys could come in!”

Scott shut the door, letting her hide behind his body. 

“He’s seen me fuck you before, doll,” Scott laughed as she pushed Scott towards her bag so she could at least grab one of the oversized t-shirts she’d stolen from Scott. At least it would be long enough to cover her.

“But it was dark, you guys were drunk and we were mostly under the sheets,” She reasoned, still standing mostly behind Scott. 

“True, she wasn’t as much of an exhibitionist as that Toronto chick,” Kevin recalled, laughing at the warning face Scott shot him. He knew from the intensely curious look on Brinkley’s face, that he might have started something. 

Scott might have hinted that Brinkley may be down for some fun with all of them, but at the moment, it didn’t seem like she was. Maybe he hadn’t asked her yet. Sharing a room with her occasionally would be a lot better if he was also getting something out of the deal. Satisfied at the moment by stirring the pot with Scott’s road history, Kevin decided to leave for the club. 

“Toronto chick?” Brinkley asked after the door closed.

“Some of us guys have regular girls in certain cities. Not every one…but some.” He admitted, suddenly thinking about Pittsburgh, “Not gonna get mad that I got my dick wet before I met you, are you?” He asked, almost condescendingly. 

She frowned and walked back to the bed, flopping down on it again. “NO. I was just asking…” She couldn’t help but be a little jealous of them and wondered if he’d turn them down if they showed up. She had a comeback on the tip of her tongue, but guessed better of mentioning anything with Curt for the moment, “Sorry, just in a bad mood,” 

“Well that’s why I’m here,” He walked to the bed, crawling across it to slide up behind her, “I know I was an ass earlier,I wanna make up for it,” He pulled her hair away from her neck, kissing the tender spot behind her ear down to her neck. 

“Scott…” She meant to say it in protest, but her tone softened itself. She lost more of her will to resist as his hand slid over the curve of her hip and down over her ass, “You know…I know you jacked off that first night we ever stayed in the same room…” She remembered how he’d grabbed her ass that night in a similar way. 

“You did?” He asked with a hint of surprise in his husky voice, “Were you awake the whole time?” He squeezed a cheek, remembering how he’d fondled her that night, “And you weren’t mad?”

“I mean… a little,” She gasped as he manhandled her backside, “But…I was turned on, too…when you touched me, it felt different than when anyone else ever had,” 

“Did you want to touch me?” He pulled her back against him, slowly gyrating against her as he worked himself up, “Were you dying to turn over and see my dick?”

She nodded, her breath quickening, “I was close to turning over…but I didn’t want to freak you out or make you stop. I almost touched myself right as I felt you cum on me,” She flexed her hips, pushing more firmly into him. 

“God damn, you’re such a dirty girl,” He bit the back of her neck lightly as his hand snuck around and down the front of her panties, pleased to sink his fingers in the evidence of her arousal, “I didn’t mean to…but damn just touching you turned me on so fucking much,” He nipped and pulled at her earlobe with his teeth, “Cum for me, baby girl,” He softly commanded as his fingers toyed rhythmically with her clit. He knew from the tremors of her body that she was close. 

His words were all that she needed as she bit her pillow to muffle some of the strained whimpers. Even if she was ticked off at him, Scott had a way of making her respond so easily that it made her forget why she was even upset. 

As the aftershocks tingled across her body, she couldn’t take his teasing anymore.

“Scott, I need you…” she said, the words barely leaving her mouth before he was stripping her of her clothes. He wasn’t sure why he was so aroused, but he knew the moment he slipped inside of her that he was not going to last long. He started with quick, firm strokes, laying between her legs as they wrapped around his waist. 

The way she dug her nails into his back didn’t help stall his stimulation. He felt those impulsive words battling their way out of his mouth, but he held them back, not believing they could be true. They were just words brought on by a passionate affair. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t say when he was buried to the hilt inside of her. 

“Don’t stop…please…harder,” She begged, trying to stall her orgasm as long as possible to match his. She struggled to withstand the pleasure she felt, heightened by the heat and weight of his body laying firmly against her. She could tell he was losing control, his restraint was dwindling as he shortened his strokes, penetrating deep into her sex. 

She cried out into his shoulder, the frantic pleasure coursing through her as she felt him pulsate inside of her. She loved the feeling. Damn Curt for not pulling out or using a condom…she preferred the feeling of a full cunt, damn the consequences. Thinking his name so soon after climaxing flooded her with an awkward sensation, but she shrugged it off as she relished Scott’s full weight over her. She loved the feeling of him over her. He barely supported himself on his forearms as he collected himself. 

“Sorry baby, you got me pretty worked up…” He apologized for his short tenure, “Give me a little bit…I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” he felt guilty now, not saying the words. Sure they were in the heat of passion, but he would have meant them. He could just as easily say them now in the afterglow. The way she was looking up adoringly at him, like he was the only man on earth should be good enough for her. But he didn’t want to say them only to have to take them back later when, as everything else had, it inevitably failed. 

“Scott…it was amazing…and as long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” she ran her fingers tips along his cheek. 

“I don’t deserve you,” He kissed the tip of her nose and then her lips lightly, “I’m just some dirty old man who can’t keep his hands off your beautiful, hot body,” He teased her a little. Brinkley laughed, pushing him off of her and to his back. She swung her leg over his hips, straddling him. 

“You might be a dirty old man…but I have the same problem of keeping my hands off of you,” She ran her hands down from his shoulders over his broad chest and torso, “I can’t get enough of your body.” 

Her praise went straight to his groin, surprising him that his spent cock ever so slightly twitched. 

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

It was late as Curt walked back to his room. He had limited himself to two drinks and that had been hours ago. He knew he was walking to the wrong door, but he couldn't seem to will himself elsewhere. 

He stood outside her door, staring at the room number.  He had no excuse to tell her why he was there. She would assume it was because he was horny and she wouldn't be wrong, but it wasn't the only reason. It was nearly 2am - she was probably sleeping. If he just knocked softly he wouldn't disturb her if she was asleep. 

Just as he lifted his hand, the door cracked open slightly. He jumped and moved quickly around the hallway corner.

“No,  Scott…don't leave.  Just stay….pleeeeeease,” Brinkley begged in a sleepy, pleading voice.

“Are you sure baby?” Scott paused at the door, “I don't want to impose,” he joked,  not quite as tired.

“Shut up and come keep me warm,” she demanded, causing him to close the door. 

Curt felt his heart racing. How could he not have considered Scott might be there. She did say they didn't always sleep together all night.  But he was guessing they did so more often than not and didn't realize how often it truly was. 

It was a close call, he should take that as a hint to stay away. But he only seemed to think of how to be more careful next time. 

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 9

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 9 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 4406

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

It was now Brinkley that was handing out silent treatments, barely answering Curt as he tried to generate conversation. He was a little surprised at the length of her tantrum and why she was holding on to her anger so long. She normally let things roll off her back fairly easily. She would need that skill as much as any other on the road. Spending this much time with any group would get to anyone, but if she didn’t forgive and forget, she was going to spend a lot of time upset. 

“This…this is kind of fancy,” She finally spoke, looking at the hotel they pulled into, normally they stuck with what was cheap and nearby, this was neither. 

“So she does still speak,” Curt said snarkily as he parked, “ Yeah, I got a connection,” he fibbed. 

“Did we beat everyone else?” She looked around not seeing any cars she recognized. 

“Guess so,” he shrugged, grabbing for his own bag. 

Scott reached in and grabbed his and her bag as well. She tried to grab it from him.

“I can get my own bag,” She huffed, but could not budge it from his shoulder. 

“Give it up, Brink, I’ve got the damn bag,” he refused her, only making her scowl more. 

Curt arrived at the desk ahead of them, giving his name and credit card for the reservation he’d made. He cringed at the total, but signed without hesitation.

He walked over to Scott and Brinkley as they entered the lobby. Curt held up three cards. 

“Just had one room, booked up for the night,” He lied again. Scott knew the truth, but played it off as if he were mildly annoyed. 

“Not sharing a bed with you this time, Hennig,” He said, but looked at Brinkley. She could feel his eyes on her and felt a small surge of pride that her prank might live on in infamy. She dropped the small smile that had snuck out of her quickly, “And no cameras,”

Brinkley knew he was trying to goad her into responding, but she resisted. She took her card key, a little irritated that she wouldn’t have space from Scott other than when they naturally would go out to the bar. She assumed she’d end up sharing a bed with Curt. She tried not to think of what she might get away with out of spite for Scott who would be sleeping feet away.

She tried to squash feeling bad about having that thought. The truth was, Scott had not done anything to her; Kevin had. And Kevin was more of an ornery brat than even she was. She tried to also ignore the guilt settling in her gut for taking out her anger on Scott. She might be dabbling in hypocrisy herself. She’d apologize tomorrow if she still felt the same.

She was shocked at the size of the room and that there was more than one actual room. 

“You paid for a suite?” She walked into the separated bedroom where a massive king bed filled most of the room. Another bedroom had two full size beds and even the living room had a couch that looked incredibly comfortable. Worst case scenario she’d be camping out here. She would imagine having paid for the room, Curt would claim the main bedroom. 

“It’s all they had,” Curt shrugged, tossing his bag into that bedroom as expected. 

“At least no one has to share,” Scott dropped his bag by the door. She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved. He looked at Curt, who mouthed silently “30 minutes…”

She was surprised when only Scott left for the bar, not inviting her and Curt opting to stay behind. She felt stupid for feeling left out. Why on earth would he invite her after the way she’d been towards him since the match? She was confused by her own signals and she was the one sending them. 

As she showered, she wondered if Curt remembered he’d asked her to only wait one more day. She felt a tingle between her legs as she thought about it, the hot water stream doing nothing to diminish it. She’d made it nearly two weeks, even though she tried to cash in on day one. She couldn’t help how attracted she was to him; she did find herself disappointed that it wouldn’t be Scott. She felt like they were close to some sort of sexual breakthrough. 

Digging through her things, she found the lacey lingerie with the tags still attached. She looked at the black lace that was so skimpy, she might as well just go naked. But she slipped it on, nearly falling over as she tried to step into the panties, discovering that they were crotch-less panties. 

“Well what is the freaking point then,” She mumbled to herself in the mirror, checking angles. It still looked sexy. The bra-like top was about as useful in coverage, but worked magic on lift. She took advantage of one of the complimentary robes and crept out of the bathroom. Hearing the other shower going from the master suite was a relief and she quickly tiptoed into his room. 

She sat on the corner of the bed, trying to decide whether to keep the robe on for a reveal, or let it lay open. She leaned back on her elbows, opting for the latter and crossed her legs. She felt a nervous leap in her stomach when the water ceased. After only a few moments, Curt emerged in nothing but a towel around his waist, drying his hair with another. He paused when he saw what lay on his bed. 

He had expected something, but was surprised by what she was wearing - more specifically how little. 

“You said one more day,” She murmured, “You’ve kept that dick from me for long enough,” 

“Thinking of this for the ring?” He looked over the ‘outfit’, even with her legs crossed, he noticed the lack of fabric, “You’ll be the most popular one there,” 

“No…this is for you,” she lifted herself so she leaned back on her hands now, her chest naturally jutting forward. 

“Just for me?” He questioned, knowing that she likely bought at the off chance Scott might get to see it, “What a thoughtful little girl,” He could care less why she bought it, he was the one getting to enjoy it, “Show Daddy more,” 

She uncrossed her legs slowly and spread them for him as he walked slowly toward her. She bit her lip, looking hungry when he undid his towel and let it fall. His shaft was already thickening, hanging with a heavy sway that made her lick her lips at the sight of it. 

“I should make these the only thing you wear around me,” he teased, “My balls would be dry,”

“Might make you a little lighter and faster on your feet,” She teased back, “I haven’t seen you jack off since that first night,” She bit her lip sheepishly as he paused. 

“So you saw that huh?” He placed one knee on the bed between her legs, “I thought you’d be fast asleep,” 

“Kinda hard to sleep next to a jackhammer,” She derided him. Curt only sarcastically grinned for a moment before his hand gripped her face firmly.

“I bet you had a lot of dirty thoughts…show me what you wanted to do when you saw me stroking my cock,” He squeezed her jaw lightly, before leaning down to kiss her. He left her lips swollen and her eyes were even darker and hungrier than before. 

Brinkley slid off the bed, the robe falling to the floor. As Curt sat on the corner of the bed, she knelt between his legs. She remembered how he liked her to start, teasing the tip and touching it softly. She kissed lightly from the tip down the underside to his very laden testicles, eliciting a groaning response when she licked each one. He cursed when she sucked one heavy orb into her mouth, her hand slowly stroking him. 

As she slowly moved her mouth back up along his pulsing flesh, she made a point to use the tip of her tongue to slowly lick the pearl of precum from his tip. She relished the way he looked at her as she pleasured him, she wondered if Scott would look at her like that. 

She sank his tip between her lips, slowly descending with each pass. She had to admit, there was something she really enjoyed about this act. Perhaps it was the control, it might have been the pride of making a man respond so primally. She focused on doing things to make him groan, curse, or grab her head. 

He did the latter with both hands, slowing the bob of her head out of preservation. He saw the room door open through the bedroom doorway and felt smug, but excited at the same time.

Scott walked in quietly, carefully to control the door as it shut. He could hear the muted, but telltale noises that said he'd arrived right on time.  

Through the bedroom doorway he saw Curt, but his eyes immediately focused on the sight of Brinkley's ass, hovering above the floor as her knees splayed below her. Out of those tights it looked even better. Whatever she was wearing, he thanked god it was so little. 

Her dark damp hair fell down her back, curling in loose waves. He couldn’t wait to thread his large fist into them. Curt was definitely into the moment, but he managed to motion to him.  

Scott slipped his shirt off and walked slowly and quietly up behind her. His adrenaline coursed through his veins; his pulse was loudly thumping in his ears.  He kneeled on the floor behind her.  She looked to be very content sucking cock. He needed that to be him. 

Brinkley dipped her head lower and lower, gasping for breath every few passes. She followed the pressure of both of his hands holding her head to set the pace, liking the feeling of being directed. She moaned against his cock as she felt two fingers slip between her pussy lips,  gently stroking the freshly wet skin of her sex.  The fingertips massaged her clit in wide slow circles.

“Oh, Daddy yes,” she moaned with a low rasp. 

Scott’s eyebrows shot up at the kinky wordplay. His cock pulsed in his jeans.

As she descended on his cock again she paused, still feeling both of his hands on her head.  And there was no possible way that his hands would be touching her like she was being touched.

Curt felt her start to pull away,  but he held her head in place with his hands.  Her whole body stiffened as she slightly dug her nails into his thighs.

“Calm down,” he spoke low, but firm. She was still rigid, feeling the fingers on her sex stall, but not recede, “do you trust me?”

Brinkley was able to lift her mouth off of him, her breathing shaking as she felt a stranger's hands on her. She looked up at Curt with wide eyes as he asked her again. 

“Do you trust me,” he met her eyes. She didn't want to say yes,  but it would have been a lie to say otherwise.

“Yes,” she answered, nodding her head. But she still couldn't turn to see who was touching her. 

“Cum for him,” Curt said, still holding her head, his cock resting against her cheek. 

She shuddered as the strong, long fingers started working her again.  He knew how to tease her clit, still circling but occasionally flicking over it quickly. 

Scott couldn't wait to taste her, just her scent alone was making his mouth water.  He considered sliding under her and letting her ride his face until she was spent, but watching her like this was quite the show as well. 

Unable to resist, he slid his fingers back and slid them inside her with rhythmic strokes. He bit his tongue to keep from groaning as she started fucking his fingers back.

“Fuck…I'm gonna cum….” She blushed for a moment, realizing she'd already called Curt 'daddy’ in front of this mystery person.

“Good girl, cum for him, tell him,” Curt's hands loosened, sliding down to her arms. 

Brinkley bit her lip, whimpering as her sex tightened around the invading digits.

“I'm cumming! God, Yes! Please don't stop…” she begged, nearly collapsing in Curt's lap. She panted through the aftershocks, knowing who she hoped would be there when she looked back. 

She wasn't sure she wanted to look, just by the off chance it really was someone else. Curiosity got the best of her as she slowly peeked behind her. Scott's hairy,  perfect torso was a welcome relief and whatever tenseness that remained melted away. 

A surge of desire flooded her as her eyes lifted to meet his. He was still touching her, gently and softly.  She was sure she'd never seen his face so dark and full of want. 

“Are you OK with this?” Scott asked, hooking his fingers inside of her a little.  

She gasped a little but nodded. She turned slightly,  snaking an arm around his neck to pull him down to her.  She was desperate to kiss him again and his hungry lips did not disappoint. He had to let his fingers slip out of her,  but he slid it around her to massage a lace covered breast.

Brinkley let her free hand stroke Curt, his shaft still slick from her mouth.  

“What do you want to do with her, Scott?” Curt couldn't be called an ungracious host, but he knew Scott had been more than anxious to get with her.  

Scotts head swam, he almost was in disbelief that she was here,  mostly naked in his arms and willingly and fully available to him. He was torn between tasting her and feeling her lips on his cock.  While he volleyed his options, she lifted his cum soaked fingers to her lips and suckled herself from them,  her eyes never leaving his. 

“Christ, I need my dick sucked…bad,” he was fumbling with his belt clumsily. Brinkley felt Curt pull her towards the bed and she followed, but didn't take her eyes off of Scott's quickly working hands. 

Curt laid her out on the bed, parting her legs he devoured her already gleaning pussy.  She jolted a bit,  still sensitive from Scott's ministrations. She arched a little off the bed,  feeling it dip slightly.  Looking up,  she saw Scott's somehow more impressive shaft pulsing over her face. She turned towards it, achingly hungry for him as she failed to start at a slow pace as she had with Curt.

“FUCK,” Scott hissed through his teeth as his hand slid through her hair and pushed past her threshold. She pulled away coughing and gasping, but sank him back in her mouth on her own quickly, “Oh, fuck that is such a good girl,” he growled, his arousal flared by her eagerness to please.

Brinkley felt an orgasm rushing forward as Curt roughly sucked her clit. As It crashed into her,  she did her best to deepthroat Scott, making his head tilt back and his fingers grip her hair tighter. 

“Please fuck me,” she begged, desperately needing to feel filled by either of them. 

Curt definitely could have sunk into her, but resisted. He slipped off the bed.

“Guests first,” he joked,  not having to tell Scott twice. 

Brinkley felt butterflies burst in her stomach as Scott slid quickly between her legs.  She propped herself up as Scott yanked her by the hips toward him.  He smacked her clit with his tip, eliciting a gasp each time. 

Scott watched her face as he sank halfway in.  She looked at him with a mix of relief and seduction, moaning loudly as he thrusted the rest of the way in, pushing her threshold of fullness.

“Ohmygod,” she fell back to the bed, her breath caught in her chest as he thrusted again.  Curt gripped her tits roughly as she reached to stroke him,  suckling his tip as he moved closer. 

Scott was mesmerized by how his cock looked disappearing in her gripping sex.  He could feel her spasming around him and it only heightened his arousal to feel how responsive she was to him. He rolled his hips in a harsh rhythm, pausing between only to hear her pleasured responses.

“You wanna try something new, baby girl?” Curt asked,  stroking her hair as she looked at him in a sex laden haze. She nodded, Scott's slowing thrusts still filling her, “Say it, “

“Yes,  Daddy,” she whined, feeling Scott’s cock twitch inside her. Curt smirked and slid off the bed. 

“Be right back,” he disappeared into the bathroom.  

Scott took the opportunity and lay over the top of her,  kissing her. Her legs naturally wrapped around him. He had to use every bit if him not to fuck her silly until his nut overflowed out of her tight pussy. 

“Get on top of him,” Curt urged, setting a bottle on the bedside table.  He stroked his cock with the gel while she timidly straddled Scott's hips, “She's never been on top before,” Curt smirked again,  seeing her nervous.

Scott was quick to lay flat, rubbing her thighs as she hovered above him. 

“She'll take to it really good,” he crooned at her,  “won't you baby?” His dark gaze looking up at her and his petting hands were encouragement enough.  He helped guide the bulging member into her and as he filled her again,  her eyes fluttered closed and a satisfied groan left her mouth.  His hips bucked a little, emboldening her to move on him.  She gyrated with a slow, fluid motion. 

Both men were taken while watching her move. Take to this position,  did she ever. Curt wondered if they'd have another chance where he could watch her work him like this. 

As she moved,  Curt stripped the bra off of her, both enjoying the sway of her tits as her movements became more spirited. Brinkley braced herself against Scott's chest, her fingers raking through his dark hair.  Just touching him was turning her on more than she'd imagined. She was losing track of how many times his cock had made her cum,  assaulting her g-spot without mercy. She knew she'd want him again. 

“Bend over sweetheart,” Curt gently pushed her downward. Scott's hands roughly toyed with her tits. He knew Curt's plan now,  trying to keep her relaxed. 

“Just breath,” he murmured,  pulling her down to kiss him.  Curt situated himself behind her,  pressing his thick, slickened glans against her still virgin asshole. 

She whimpered against Scott’s lips as Curt slowly inched his way in. She tensed, but both men tried to relax her. She tried to calm herself, soon feeling a fullness that she couldn't describe if she tried. 

As both men moved in a slow rhythm, Brinkley was robbed of coherent thought, airy moans were all that left her. Both cocks stroking her insides sent constant shockwaves to her core. Curt's possessive grip around her waist and Scott's pawing and wandering hands sent her over the edge of sensory overload.

As Curt fucked her ass harder,  she was pushed against Scott, her nipples rubbed roughly by his chest hair. She bit lightly as his collarbone as she came to the intensity of both holes being filled. 

“Jesus, Brinkley, your pussy is gonna kill me,” Scott mumbled into her ear,  his hips thrusting upwards with a magnitude that alluded to his own pending orgasm.

“Fuck…so is this hot little ass,” Curt grunted, not fighting his orgasm as he came in her no- longer-innocent hole, filling her deep as he stayed buried to the hilt.

She moaned as she felt one filling her,  but also feeling the stretch of Scott's cock as it threatened to spill into her as well. 

“I should pull out,” he whispered, but his face betrayed his suggestion.

“Don't you fucking dare,” Brinkley's lust filled eyes dared him to defy her.  He didn't need any further convincing as he grunted and flooded her cunt with his plentiful seed. 

She grinned slightly, moaning at the feeling of his cum inside her. She’d imagined it for so long,  but it felt so much better than she could have thought. And Curt's adventurous ploy only added to her sexual satisfaction.

Curt slipped from her first,  helping her to sit up and to her shaky and unstable legs.  

“Dirty girl's gonna need to shower again,” he popped her asscheek lightly.  

“I got her,” Scott popped up, picking her up when her legs still wobbled. Curt stepped back.  He hoped that things would go this way.  If Scott could take his place for her physical outlet, it would be better for all of them. 

Scott carried her to the bathroom and drew her a bath.  She felt embarrassed by the level of attention,  but did not reject it. She sat in the steamy water,  her legs and hips still quivered a bit. Scott had rinsed himself,  but sat naked next to the tub with her. 

“I guess you aren't still pissed at me,” Scott joked,  “if I had known that was his plan-”

Brinkley leaned over and pressed her hand to his mouth. 

“I know.  I was being ridiculous,” she admitted, “I'm sorry,” She returned with her own apology. “I'm glad you came,” she rested her chin on his forearm. 

“Kind hard not to,” he joked,  crassly, “that thing you got between your legs is dangerous,”

Brinkley couldn't help but giggle as her cheeks burned.

“You know what I mean,” she nudged him lightly, “I really am…”

Scott's hand slid over her hair, resting on her cheek,  his thumb stroking slowly. 

“Me too,” 

“So…I guess you know that Curt and I…” she trailed off, knowing that it was more than obvious. 

“Yeah,  I've known for a while, actually,” he admitted, “Curt might have let the cat outta the bag early.”

“How long??” She was surprised at his admission.

“About a week before we came back out?” He thought back, “Yeah, about that long,” He started to feel guilty now. He wouldn't blame her for feeling used, “He said that you had pulled a fast one on him. And if anyone knows anything about him…he will get the last word,”

“So…was this just a joke to you?” She asked. He turned expecting her to be angry, but she looked only curiously at him.

“No,” he shook his head, “it mighta been a means to an end. But you should know I've been wanting this,”

“I did. I wanted it, too,” she splashed him with a small sprinkling of water.

“You've wanted me since the first time we met. I saw it in your eyes,” Scott narrowly avoided the water, “and I know you still want me more,” he said with a confidence that would have made it true if it wasn't already. 

“So what if I do? What does that make…?” She motioned between them. 

“I don't know yet…but um,” he wanted to ask her to not sleep with Curt, or anyone else, but he didn't know how he could do that without asking for a singular loyalty. He wasn't sure he was capable of being in a relationship, “I just don't know yet,” he gave up on being a hypocrite. He turned, leaning his back against the side of the tub. 

“We don't have to label anything,” she slid up behind him,  wrapping her arms around his shoulders, “but there is one thing…”

Scott's hand rested on her forearms, “and what's that?” He might have been averted from relationships, but he definitely liked this intimacy they were sharing. 

“I really want to feel that mouth on my pussy at least once,” she ran her fingers over his rough, five o'clock shadow. 

“Baby,  you're gonna have a hard time keeping me away from it,” Scott's deep voice promised.

Curt was in bed when they both emerged from the bathroom. She led Scott by his hand to the bed,  laying in the middle and pulling him down into the sheets. 

She rolled over, kissing Curt's cheek before whispering in his ear,  “I'm getting you back for this,” she knew though his eyes were closed,  he was still awake. 

Scott felt awkward at first, though, he felt better when she rolled back to him and rested her cheek on his chest and laid her arm over him. 

“Is this OK?” She mumbled, taking in his scent and the feel of him against her just in case he pushed her away. 

“More than okay, girl,” holding a warm body next to him that wasn't there just to use him was more comforting than he'd thought. He slept easily, pretending it was just the two of them

Brinkley did not want to wake when a soft alarm started to buzz. She moaned, covering her ear with her hand. She snuggled down into the same hairy torso she'd fallen asleep against. She only opened her eyes when the alarm silenced. She looked up to see Curt rousing.

“Don't get up yet,” she motioned for him to return to the solace of the sheets.

“But it's getting late, baby girl,” he realized he would need to change up how he addressed her “plus I gotta be on high alert after your little threat”

“Please? “ she begged, patting the bed beside her, “Temporary truce?”.

Curt sighed, but crawled back in, sliding up beside her.

“Did you at least get some enjoyment out of it or was it pure torture,” he asked, running his hand slowly up and down her thigh.

“Well…I don't know that I'd call it complete torture,” she chided him a bit, “I wasn't expecting that last thing,” her stomach tingled a bit as she remembered how surprisingly good it felt.

“That was the idea,” Curt softly joked, “and it felt fucking amazing,” he mumbled in her ear,  biting her lobe.

“It better have,  because I'm not falling for that again,” her eyes rolled back slightly as he nibbled.  

“I give it three days before you're begging for it,” Curt's hand slid from her thigh over her ass cheeks, “Four, tops,”

“My god,  I'm trying to sleep would you two keep it down,” Scott said,  his eyes still closed. Brinkley giggled a little, but snuggled into him again. 

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 13

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 13 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 3486

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

The ride to Omaha was more tense than any other.  Curt had tried to talk to her that morning,  but she made no qualms about not being interested in conversing.

Scott could tell something was up and it bothered him. He worried that things may have happened even though Curt and Brinkley had agreed to stop. If anything, he could empathize with having trouble resisting her. She was like a drug that would be hard to kick. But he wanted to trust her and he wanted her all to himself. He was not used to being the jealous type - he didn’t want to start now.

Brinkley grabbed her bag and walked ahead of them both. Scott felt a rock in the pit of his stomach, looking at Curt as they followed her at a distance.

“She seems pretty ticked off,” He observed, hoping Curt would offer up more information. 

“Yeah…” He sighed heavily, “We kinda got into it last night, argument over next week. She stormed out and got her own room,” He knew Scott was worried firstly that they’d slept together again. At this moment, Curt felt so shitty, he wished that was the actual problem instead of what had happened. 

“Next week? You mean her coming to Florida? That was my idea, man,” He wanted to make sure the blame was on him if that was the cause of the problem, “Told her I’d get her a ticket to fly out with me tonight,”

“I was drunk…told her she needed to keep training and should come to Minnesota instead.” He held up his hand in defeat, “But it was her decision, she’s going to Florida and I’m not gonna get in the way of that. I just wish she’d let me apologize. I feel like a royal prick,”

Scott breathed a sigh of relief; for a moment he wasn’t sure what to think of Curt’s insistence that she follow his orders. He couldn't say he'd never been bossy…even with Brinkley. But he was dating her,  Curt wasn't. 

He grinned to himself as he thought that again. Dating. He never would have thought it would be happening to him at this point.  And definitely wouldn't have imagined with her. 

“She'll settle down, she cools off eventually,” Scott tried to offer some reassuring words.

Curt knew the things he left out were what really haunted him. 

Brinkley snuck off to the shower area to change for the show.  Beforehand the showers were usually abandoned. She slipped on her costume shorts and laced up her boots first.  She was careful to lift her shirt over her head, wincing as she pulled the sleeve off her arm. 

It looked a little worse than when she woke up. There were tell-tale horizontal lines of bruises around her upper arm and the soreness persisted even without moving it. She knew he didn't mean to do it,  but she was no less angry about it. She knew she had to cover it with her long sleeve top, but was not looking forward to pulling the tight fabric around it. 

She heard heavy footsteps approaching and quickly zipped her sports bra back up and tried to grab her shirt.  A large figure came around the corner and stopped, staring at her.

“Brink?” Kevin furrowed his brow in confusion, “What the hell are you doing back here?” 

She was half dressed but covered enough. She turned so her arm was pointed away from him.  Standing with her side to him seemed awkward, but she didn't know how else to conceal it. 

“Just…wanted to be alone for a minute…” she fibbed, holding up her ring top, “trying to get ready,”

“Don't let me stop you,” he gestured towards her to keep going, “Nothing I haven't seen before. Plus Scott talks about your tits in his sleep,”

“No he fucking doesn't,” she looked at him only now seeing he was joking, “very funny,” she knew her positioning was increasingly awkward.

“... You sure you're OK?” He looked her over, noticing her odd body language, “If you're waiting for Scott he's gonna be a minute.”

She waved him off with her other arm facing him. 

“No, just get outta here so I can get dressed. I  gotta get all gussied up to go have you guys stalk me in the ring,  remember?” She was relieved that Kevin was being cordial, but needed him to leave.

“Alright, alright,” he rolled his eyes as he turned the corner towards the main locker room. 

Brinkley waited a moment before she slipped off the bra and slipped her right arm in its sleeve. She turned now, trying to ease in her left. She winced and moaned a little in pain as the welt burned.

Kevin waited in the hallway a short time before sneaking back to the doorway. Something told him that something wasn't right. He peeked around the doorway, first noticing her tits, only one of them was partially covered. Scott definitely wasn't lying about those.  But his eyes caught something else that stood out, the deepening purple of a very specific bruise that was keeping her from dressing quickly. He gave up his stealthy hiding spot.

“What the fuck is that on your arm?!” He approached her with a dedicated stride.

Brinkley jumped from his abrupt approach, her hand quickly covering her exposed chest and trying to turn away from him again.

“Jesus Kevin! Get outta here! I'm trying to get dressed, you perv!” She was stopped from turning away completely, Kevin using his long reach to grab her wrist. She yelped a little as he inadvertently yanked her arm.

He turned her back around, seeing the lines on her arm as if someone's hand had been on her. 

“I've seen tits before, Brinkley. But what is this? “ he motioned towards the marks, softening his grip on her wrist.

“It's nothing,” she murmured, not looking at him, “it just popped up,” she felt embarrassed now. 

“The fuck it did. Did someone hit you?” He looked over the rest of her not seeing any other glaring marks.

“No…nobody hit me,” she desperately wished he'd just let her get dressed, “Just grabbed me a little bit…”

“Was it Scott?” Kevin may not have been the biggest fan of what they were doing but he would be damned if he stood by and let anyone beat on a woman.

“No!  No,  Scott wouldn't do that…” she quickly attested.

“Curt?” To Kevin it was the only other obvious choice besides a random encounter. Her silence clued him in,  “Brinkley, did Curt do this?”

“I…,” she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, “He was drunk last night.  I shouldn't have started an argument knowing he'd been drinking,”

“Fuck that, he should keep his hands to himself regardless,” he ran his thumb over a deeper color and she hissed a little, “This NOT okay - no one has the right to put hands on you.” Kevin felt a slowly forming anger swirling in him. 

Brinkley felt oddly comforted by his concern and affirmation.

“Please don't say anything,” she begged, knowing that Scott would notice sooner than later, “please don't make it into a big deal,” she begged, trying to meet his eyes. 

Kevin exhaled firmly from his nose, not liking the idea. 

“Not during the show. But if I see him after, that's a different story,” he promised.

“Can you…can you help me?” she gestured towards her top, “Not sure how else to get it on…”

Kev nodded, grabbing the loose arm of the top, trying his best to ignore her chest as she stopped covering herself. He could see her blushing but he decided she'd had enough of guys being dicks to her lately. He zipped the top, helping her adjust and secure it.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, embarrassed at the idea that he had seen her breasts. But he made no mention, joke, or teasing comment about them.

“You're welcome,” Kevin stood, grabbing her bag, “Good thing you are training with us now. I'll be damned if he thinks he's gonna be alone with you again.”

“That's what the argument was about,” she admitted, following him closely.

“Jealous prick,” he sneered, shaking his head, “Here, let me get you something to take the edge off,” he said as they reached the empty locker room. He set her bag down and rummaged through his own, pulling out a prescription pill bottle.

She looked at him apprehensively, “I don't take drugs,” she spoke up seeing a flat, white pill in his palm.

“I'm not saying make it a habit. Take just one. “ he held it out for her, “We eat Somas like candy, one will not hurt you,”

The idea of trying to work in the ring with only one good arm made her take the pill and swallow it.

“I know you're just being nice to me because you're feeling sorry for me…but…thanks,” she murmured, watching as he oiled his arms and chest.

“I'm being nice to you because I'm actually not as big of a dick as you think I am. And…I  have to admit that you may not be the worst thing in the world for Scott.” He admitted, begrudgingly. 

“Slow down with the compliments, big man,” she teased, “I'm not used to this from you,”

“Well you better…I think Scott's planning on keeping you around a while,” he watched her face light up even as she looked away. She obviously felt the same, “Just keep your pants on while we are training and we'll be cool.”

“Deal,” she reached out with her right arm to shake his hand. 

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

The gorilla was tense, Scott being the only one oblivious to the reason. Curt could tell by the snide glare from Kevin that he likely knew. He was relieved when Scott and Kevin walked first.

“Brinkley, please let me apologize,” he spoke quickly, knowing they didn't have much time.

“I really am not ready to talk to you,” she said firmly, but felt her throat ache a little as if holding back an emotional reaction, “And definitely not right now,” she wanted to focus on the job more than anything right now.

“Did you tell Scott and Kevin?” He asked, peering out of the curtain at the two men taking her from him.

“No, I didn't tell either,” she harshly whispered, “But Kevin saw my arm and pretty much figured it out,”

“Saw your arm? Jesus, Brinkley,  I didn't know I really hurt you that bad…” He reached for her out of concern but she stepped away from his touch. 

“Don't. Touch. Me.” She warned him, “Unless it's for the show, in front of fans, you don't get to touch me at all,” 

Curt's arm dropped, seeing the apprehension in her eyes; a look she had never given him before. 

She kept her word, acting no differently as his valet. She played into the attention of Scott and Kevin, snapping back to Curt when he'd call for her. He got the three count as she distracted Scott before he received Curt's finishing suplex.

As Brinkley and Curt walked up the ramp,  Scott and Kevin got on the mic to issue the pay per view challenge, naming her as the prize in the match. They both feigned surprise, but Curt agreed as planned and Brinkley protested animatedly as rehearsed.

“Careful Hennig, or we might just grab her away from you,” Kevin said, leaning against the top rope with a shit-eating smirk.

Curt wasn’t sure what to make of the remark, taking Brinkley by the left arm and steering her back to the curtain. Once behind the privacy of the gorilla, she yanked her arm away from him, wincing. 

He grabbed her forearm instead and quickly pulled her behind him down an opposite hall from where their locker room was. 

“I’m not in the mood, Curt,” She told him, trying not to make a scene, but he pulled her into the empty medical office and shut the door behind him, “And I said don't touch me. You're lucky I didn't make a fucking scene,” she wasn't sure why she didn't.

“Brinkley, please just let me talk to you,” He pleaded with her, “You have every right to be mad at me,” He held up his hands, “But don’t leave with things like this. We’ve been through too much together -”

“Don’t you dare try to make this something I need to fix. YOU are the one that fucked up,” She countered, refusing to shoulder the blame of not forgiving him if she didn’t want to.

“You’re right,” He conceded, “But I don’t want to leave you with things like this. I don’t want you to resent me,” 

“And why shouldn’t I,” She felt emotions creeping in and hated it. She knew she didn’t want to hate him, but it would make leaving tonight much easier, “Maybe it's better than we just call it from here,”

“Is that what you really want?” Curt asked, looking defeated, “If you really just want to cut it off right here, right now…I’ll agree to it if that’s what you want.” 

Brinkley looked down, hugging her arms around her middle. Of course that’s not what she wanted. She would feel lost without his guidance even if she wasn’t training with him. She wouldn’t be here without him. 

“No,” She quickly wiped away a hot tear that escaped down her cheek, “It’s not what I want, Curt…I’m just really hurt and angry and I want you to feel really bad,”

He felt a stabbing pain in his gut when she had to wipe that tear away, “Brink I do. I feel worse than I’ve felt in a really, really long time. I’m going to be honest, cheating on my wife doesn’t make me feel as bad as this…”

Brinkley looked up at him, seriousness still written on her face.

“That shouldn’t make me feel any better,” She leaned back against the exam table, “You should feel bad for both…” She tried not to look at his face too long, the regret etched in his features was tugging at her empathy. She hated that she was such a softie sometimes. She needed to be more resolute if she didn’t want to be walked all over. 

“I do, baby girl, I do,” He stepped towards her. She didn’t wince or stop him as he approached, “I’ll do whatever you want for me to make it up to you,”

“Anything, huh?” She thought of the quid-pro-quo with Scott at the bar - how he’d told her to give Kevin a lap dance. The thought of giving him the same ultimatum was instantly amusing to her. She couldn’t subdue the smile that spread across her lips.

“Not sure I wanna know,” He couldn’t help but smile, too. Her’s was always contagious, he couldn’t help it, “but what is it,”

“Do you mean it? Whatever I want?” She squinted her eyes at him, testing his sincerity. 

“Anything,” he felt nervous, wondering what she was concocting. She'd shown promise as a prankster, he could really be in for it.

“Can I save it for when we're back on the road?” She asked,  thinking something in her back pocket may come in useful.

Curt couldn't help but look disappointed. He knew what he wanted her to ask for…but that was likely just his wishful thinking. 

“I…I guess,” his shoulders lowered a little,  his eyes looking to her arm, Brinkley…. can I…can you show me what I did?” He knew his time was running short.  Scott and Kevin were probably already looking everywhere for her.  

She looked at her arm for a moment before she nodded, “You can't touch me,” she reminded him and he nodded agreeingly. 

She sighed, lowering the zipper, there was no way to show him without exposing herself, if anything he deserved the torture. She shrugged off the top from her right side, careful when pulling down the left.  She peeled It slowly,  wincing again as the blackened bruising appeared, 

“It doesn't hurt that much,  right now,” Brinkley failed to mention Kevin's pills.

“Holy fuck…Brinkley…” Curt couldn't even say the word sorry,  it fell so far short of what he needed to say.  He was embarrassed of himself.  He tried his hardest not to let himself glance at her chest, but he hated looking at the mark he left on her, “I'm the biggest asshole in this whole place,”

“For once,  I'm not arguing,” she added, turning her arm over to view the other side, “I'm going to have to figure out how to cover it with my new gear.”

Curt felt even worse thinking about her having to go around with this reminder. He'd have to do something huge for her of his own motivation.

“I'll buy you anything you need,  any more gear,  anything at all.  It's on me,” He offered quickly.

“Even if it's to match Scott and Kevin's gear?” She postured, pulling the sleeve back over her arm. 

“Yes…even that,” he watched her put her other arm through its sleeve,  “May I? Just help…” he motioned towards her zipper.

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. He stretched each side of the top, corralling each breast as he tried to secure the bottom of the zipper. Each one bubbled under the tightness of the fabric and it was obvious that Curt was looking.  But he only zipped the top, a little higher than normal. He dropped his hands, not allowing them to linger at all. Brinkley appreciated that and for a moment,  her anger lifted. 

She leaned forward,  her arms encircling his shoulders as she buried her nose against his neck,  he only waited a moment to return the embrace, squeezing her to him. 

“I don't LIKE being mad at you,” She mumbled, somehow feeling safe against the same man who'd hurt her, “But I HAVE to be…”

Curt lay his cheek against the top of her head,  breathing her in,  “I don't like it either, baby girl,  but I know you have to,” He let his hand run across her back soothingly. He felt lucky that she allowed him this.  He hoped in the separation she'd continue to forgive him and not regress. But he couldn't do anything about that when they'd be thousands of miles apart. 

“You should go…I have to go find those two. Probably better if they don't see you,” Brinkley warned,  still holding on to him.  

“Maybe you'd feel better if they beat the shit out of me, “ He joked a little,  but she just shook her head.

“It wouldn't,” She pulled away from him slowly. 

As Brinkley entered the locker room, she wondered if she'd missed some sort of natural disaster. Stuff was thrown all around the room.  She quickly realized that it was Curt's things.  Scott looked angry,  but immediately relieved when he saw her. 

“Jesus, where were you??” He asked walking up to her and pulling her into his chest.  She glanced at Kevin: he must've told Scott. 

“I was just talking to Fyre and Spice…” She fibbed, not wanting to stir the pot anymore.

“I swear to god, I'll kill the mother fucker the next time I see him,” Scott seethed, holding her possessively against him. 

She couldn’t deny she liked his protective attention; any excuse she could have to press against his chest was a welcome one. 

“I want to leave it alone…for now,” She said, both men looking less than agreeable, “Just until we get back on tour. I just want to get out of here,” She tried further convincing them to avoid any altercations tonight, “Please,” 

Scott sighed, irked by the idea of not giving Curt a piece of his mind and his fist, but he knew she was right. It would be better to leave and let cooler heads prevail in a few days. He’d probably still deck him, though. 

“Fine. Grab your stuff, we’re riding with Kev,” He let her go, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through him. 

“Maybe I take the long way to the car?” Kevin said quietly to Scott, who nodded. He turned to leave stealthily as more people poured into the locker room. 

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

“Where is he, I thought he was coming out earlier?” Brinkley looked around the parking lot as she and Scott waited by Kevin’s rental car.

“You know how he likes to talk, someone probably sidetracked him,” Scott shrugged, but saw a large frame heading their way, “Finally,”. He noticed Kevin shaking his hand a little, as if his knuckles may have been sore.

“Sorry, got pulled into something,” Kevin fibbed as he unlocked the car. He and Scott made glancing eye contact. 

Brinkley was clearly in the dark, she made no mention of any suspicion. She did feel a sense of immense relief later as the plane took off over the dark Midwest. She was ready for a change of scenery. 

[84reedsy]

The Mentorship, Part 4

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , eventual Scott Hall/FemOC

Parts 4 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 3346 -----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3----

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

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It was after 2am when Curt stumbled into the room, slurring curses at the door knob as he struggled with the key. The room was dark and it did him no favors as he bumped his knee against the TV stand. He fumbled with his clothes, tossing them haphazardly to the floor, strewing them about. He threw the covers back and flopped on the bed once he was completely naked. He did not have much consideration for modesty now. 

He turned to see Brinkley sleeping, she lay on her back, facing him as she breathed slowly and deeply. His eyes focused slowly, blurring here and there, but he could see the outline of her nipples as the thin, worn t-shirt lay against them. He felt like an idiot for turning her down. He was having trouble remembering what the big deal was about limiting her anyway. 

He could tell her that she could have all she wanted as long as she didn’t hump around the entire locker room. He didn’t feel like getting vd from the guys he worked with. He was pretty sure she'd jump his bones every night if he allowed it. The more he thought about it, the more worked up he became. But something in his brain said not to take things too far and even in a drunken haze, he knew to listen. 

In his fist, he gripped his cock, his other arm bent behind his head. He switched from glancing at her slowly rising tits, to closing his eyes and remembering the times he’d been inside her. He let the images aid him as he stroked, his body tensing. 

Brinkley was roused in the dark. She couldn’t quite understand what she felt at first. But as consciousness crept in, she realized the bed was shaking a little. The street lamp peeking through the crack in the curtains was the only light and her eyes took a minute to adjust. But between the noises and the motion she was feeling, she realized Curt was back. And that he was worked up.

She found herself a little irritated at first. It seemed he was horny after all, but still turned her down. It wasn’t until she smelled the heavy scent of alcohol in the air, that she thought it might have been spurred by inebriation. But regardless of the inspiration, she was titillated by what she was witnessing as she peeked through her eyelids. She was fascinated by how he gripped himself, how his hand moved along the rigid flesh. His hips flexed, and he groaned in his chest

Brinkley couldn’t believe how much she ached between her thighs and knew she was getting wet. She couldn’t make a move, it wasn’t right. Her respect and trust in him dictated her resistance. But, she desperately wanted to help him. She wanted to help herself, too, but dared not to move, wanting to see him continue. 

Curt quickened his strokes, trying to keep quiet. He didn’t want her to wake up to find him doing this. If she did and even hinted that she wanted him, he’d throw those covers off and bury his dick in her before she’d know what happened. He felt his balls tighten at that thought and he stroked his cock faster. 

“Fuck…Brinkley,” He grunted quietly as he came, his cum pooling on his stomach as it shot from the tip, “Fuck…” 

Brinkley bit her lip, again fascinated by the sight before her. She had never seen a cock cumming before and it was hotter than she’d imagined. Maybe it was because it was Curt. She wasn’t sure, but she did know that she had a nagging desire to lick the cum from his stomach. She knew that would likely mortify him if she did so. It would serve him right the way he’d been teasing her so far this trip. 

Ultimately, she did not want to deter her chance at cashing in her pass with him, so she remained still, her eyes secretly trained on his cock as he let it lay against his torso. 

Curt lay for a moment, catching his breath. Once his head was a little more clear, he cleaned up the evidence and glanced over at Brinkley, who still lay apparently undisturbed by his self-pleasuring. He felt a lingering disappointment that he didn’t throw caution to the wind and drunkenly fuck her. He’d have lasted twice as long, probably longer than she could have handled. She’d probably have walked out of there bow-legged the next day. 

Curt passed out as those thoughts circled in his head, he barely managed to throw a sheet over his waist and legs. 

Morning came early and though Brinkley was more rested, she still didn’t want to get up. The shrill blare of the alarm clock on the far end of the room was enough to drag her from the warm cocoon of blankets, though. She slapped the top of it until it ceased, rubbing her face and trying to wake up. She glanced over at Curt, sprawled out over more than his half of the bed, still in the same position as when he’d passed out, the sheet still barely covering him from the waist down.

She dressed quickly in the bathroom, hearing a deep groan from the room. She would imagine his hangover would be decent. He hadn’t drank the entire time they’d been away from the road, so his tolerance might have not been as he remembered.

“Jesus, what the fuck,” Curt’s voice was rough as she slowly sat up on the side of the bed. He rubbed his forehead, dragging the sheet to lay in his lap.

Brinkley came out of the bathroom, tying her hair up behind her head. 

“Well good morning, sunshine,” She chirped at him, receiving a glare in response, “Have fun last night?”

“It’s too early in the day for you to bust my balls,” He warned, “Where the fuck is my bag?” He tried to look around, but moved his head too quickly and he winced.

Brinkley sighed, but retrieved it, dropping it at his feet.

“Your Highness,” she taunted him. Another glare put her on notice and she returned to the bathroom to finish readying herself as he stood. She was sure he wouldn’t care if he was stark naked in front of her, but she did. It wasn’t going to subdue her libido to be constantly faced with what she was craving. 

She had just finished gathering her things and packing them away when Curt invaded the bathroom and motioned for her to leave. At least he’d managed boxers now. She left quickly, grabbing the spare room key and decided to load her bags and avoid his sour mood.

Her timing was impeccable, opening the trunk as the rest of the party made their way outside. It seemed like more than she remembered as they slung their bags at her feet. At least most of the ‘Kliq’ set them down, other’s nearly chucked them at her. Scott Steiner was one of those, she couldn’t say she was surprised. 

She loaded the bags into the cars, heaving a few back and forth as she was ribbed by the guys about which car was whose. It was much less funny on this side of the joke. 

Just when she thought she was done, she looked up to see Scott leaning against their car with his arms folded, sunglasses hiding his likely bloodshot eyes and a toothpick rolled around in his cheshire grin. 

“I know, I know, you get shotgun,” She let go of the idea that she would escape the backseat on this trip.

“Well yeah,” He said as if it were an inevitability,”But what about my bag, rookie?” 

Brinkley looked around and saw no other bags laying about, wondering if she loaded in the wrong car.

“I don’t see it,” She continued to scan the area. 

“I’m not carrying it halfway out just to hand it to you,” He motioned towards his room, the door slightly ajar. Brinkley stifled the urge to groan out of frustration. She grabbed the bag from where it lay on the floor, grabbing handfuls of the clothes still on the floor next to it and jamming them in the bag.

“I don’t want my things wrinkled…try again,” He had followed her in and stood over her as she kneeled on the floor. She huffed but took them back out to fold them and place them in the bag more carefully. 

“Curt trained this one up good,” Scott laughed as Kevin leaned against the doorframe.

“Wonder if she knows any other tricks,” Kevin teased, “Oh, and, don't forget mine, it's over there,” Kevin pointed and Brinkley’s eyes followed to the empty duffle back next to a pile of clothes. She managed to balance Scott’s bag on her shoulder and once she was finished with Kevin’s bag, she tried to sling it over the other, instead knocking herself off balance and to the floor. She resorted to dragging them behind her out onto the sidewalk. 

“Ooooh, did the Outsiders get you instead of Curt?” Rick teased, sitting on the hood of his car. 

Brinkley was cross, but swallowed her irritation.

“They wish…” She mumbled, “Plus no way I could have stayed in that room, it smells,” She continued dragging the bags to the trunk.

“What’s it smell like,” Eddie asked.

“Sex and Shame,” Brinkley said after managing both bags in their respective vehicles. She was relieved when her joke was well received, smirking herself a bit. 

By the time Curt emerged, everyone was loading into their own vehicles. He didn’t say much, hiding his own eyes with sunglasses.

“I could drive,” she offered, knowing she was probably the freshest of the bunch,”Just need you to tell me where to turn and stuff.”

“Get in the back,” He barked a little. It was going to be hard enough working out feeling like garbage, he wasn’t in the mood to be jolted around by some young driver. He didn’t care at the moment whether or not he hurt her feelings, but he could tell she might have been a little wounded.

At the local gym, the group took over the free weights. Brinkley focused on cardio at first, jogging on a treadmill before letting Chavo and Eddie convince her to join them. She knew very well that they were both the overtly flirtier of the bunch. But at least they still helped her get a legitimate workout. And they made her laugh. They kept pretending to fight over who lifted while she spotted. 

She couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the flirting and they seemed to as well. Of course they did, it was their general medium of communication. But it provided her another breather from two men that, in very different ways, she sexually thirsted for. She knew she needed to develop other friendships if she was going to last any length of time in this business. 

She waited in the car as most of them hit the tanning beds, taking the chance to relax and rest after working out. She lay with her headphones in, the windows down a little, a slight breeze wafting through. She lay with her arm draped over her eyes as she listened to music. She must’ve nodded off, because she awoke with a start, realizing that they were now at the next arena. 

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Scott opened her door and looked down at her. SHe squinted her eyes looking up at him, his crotch the closest thing to her. She gulped as she looked up and realized his eyes didn’t quite meet hers and it was clear he was looking at the low neckline of her shirt. 

She sat up quickly, pulling the now silent headphones out of her ears and sliding towards the door. Scott held his hand down and she looked at it for a moment suspiciously. She took it and he helped her from the car with complete chivalry. She noticed Curt watching and dropped her hand quickly and went to grab her bag from the trunk. As she started towards the building, she stopped when she heard a throat clear.

Curt and Scott both looked at her expectantly as they stood next to the open trunk. She let out a discontented sigh, plodding back to the car. While Scott and Curt strutted ahead of her, she labored under the weight of three bags, trying to maintain her balance. Kevin pulled up as they walked, calling out of his window. 

“I got another one for ya,” He said.

“FUCK.OFF.” she retorted. That big boy could carry his own bag. 

Tonight, she repeated her outfit, it was too hot for the long pants and though the zippered top was long sleeve, it was cropped enough that it wasn’t stifling. She also only zipped it up as far as Curt had suggested. She wound the edge of a paper clip through the teeth of it to keep it from slipping too far down and giving the audience too much of a show. 

Tonight she intervened as Curt battled Kevin. He paid more attention to her than other opponents, helping to get her over. As she slipped in the ropes, she placed a phony kick to his good knee and he buckled, but turned around, drawing a pop from the crowd. She looked around as if she was in trouble and needed saving, but Curt was still on the mat, distracting the referee. 

Kevin grabbed her and put her head between his legs. Brinkley buried her laughter, feeling the weight of him on the back of her neck, wondering if every other opponent thought about the fact that Kevin’s balls were on the back of their head. Before he could officially powerbomb her, Curt intervened and she rolled out of the ring. She remembered to appear angry and upset, even as Curt won, staring daggers at Kevin in perfect kayfabe fashion. She loudly complained to Curt as they walked back up the ramp, insulting Kevin as she looked back and the crowd cheered when Kevin waved and winked towards them. 

“That…was really fun,” She could drop the act now backstage, grinning widely and feeling giddy. She waited for Nash to make it back out as well, her buzz from the crowd still coursing through her. Kev smirked at her as she greeted him, complimenting her.

“You did good, girl,” He said, peeling off his singlet top, “Might get some use outta you, yet,” He winked again. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” She felt almost jittery, she could understand why so many used other substances, this was a hard high to just come down from. 

“I told her she was gonna turn face if she’s not careful,” Curt tried to slick his hair back from the mess it had become in the match. 

“Ew, no,” She said as they entered the locker room, “I like being the villain,”

“I knew you were a bad girl,” Scott ribbed from the center of the room, “A bad guy knows when he sees his own kind,” 

His words drew an instinctive response from her body; he was really good about doing that to her, as if he had a secret map of all her buttons and was ready to push them at a moment's notice.

“I don’t know, that crowd seems to like her,” Curt said, nudging her shoulder. 

“Of course they do, in those booty shorts they all wanna fuck her” Kevin wiped his face with a towel, wicking the sweat from his arms next. The guys all laughed, Brinkley just rolled her eyes.

“That’s the second time someone’s said that,” she said with her hands on her hips.

“And tomorrow, I’ll make it a third,” Scott popped his eyebrows at her several times. She gave up trying to control the conversation and turned to the locker she’d placed her bag in.

“Where’s my stuff?” She said out loud, but only to herself at first. She looked around, trying to retrace her arrival. She knew she picked this locker, it was number 8 for her birthday. 

“Lose something?” Scott asked, but in a tone that sounded like he already knew she had. 

“My bag…all my stuff,  it's not here,” she still searched her mind hoping she wasn't already getting confused between venues two nights in. 

“Well that sucks,” Steve Borden said, nearly cackling as he left the room.  His excess of amusement was her first indication. She looked back at Scott, who seemed to be equally amused.

“Where is it…did you do something with it?” She tried to plead a little pitifully, hoping it would appeal to his human decency if he had any to spare her.

“I dunno, all these bags look alike to me, probably got mixed up with someone else,” Scott shrugged, resting his hands behind his head as he leaned back. 

“C’mon man, that’s ALL of my stuff, my clothes, everything,” She looked down at her shiny, vinyl ring outfit, “I can’t just wear this everywhere,”

“I don’t know why not, I wouldn’t mind it,” Scott drawled back at her, Kevin laughed, cracking open a beer as he watched their exchange.

Curt was amused, but a tiny part of him felt bad, like he wanted to protect her. He couldn’t coddle her though, she needed to learn how to fend for herself. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one wearing it,” She folded her arms across her chest as her annoyance grew. Curt wondered if she knew how much that just amplified her cleavage and probably wouldn’t help her case. 

“Good point, take it off and let me try it on,” Scott’s voice lowered a little and his eyes glinted with mischief. 

“Yeah, I second that, take it off,” Kevin clapped his hands at the idea. 

“You guys are hillllaaarious,” She stalled, saying anything that wouldn’t make her seem more flustered. 

“You better hurry up and find it, we’re leaving soon.” Curt warned, tapping his watch after putting it back on. 

“I’m trying,” She tried her best not to convey too much attitude towards him, but he could see exactly what was happening. This was not her fault. This was beyond her control. She gave up trying to reason with Scott or Kevin. They were obviously involved in its disappearance so why would they help her find it?

She searched all of the lockers, the bathrooms, the showers. She found only mostly naked men and no duffle bag. She knew she could manage the evening in this getup, but she needed pajamas, clothes for the next day, all of her travel things. As she made it back to the locker room, it had cleared out and all that remained, to her disappointment was her duffle bag, flat and empty on the table. 

She screamed under her breath but grabbed the bag and booked it towards the parking lot. Oddly enough, she was asked for an autograph that she hurriedly agreed to. As she jogged away, she realized it was her first and she felt weird about it, but it made her smile to think about the little kid that asked.

Thank goodness this gear was comfortable enough to run in because Curt and Scott were already in the car, Kevin, Eddie, and Steve's car already pulling out. She did NOT want to have to beg a ride off any of the other guys. She didn't know them well and didn't feel like trading favors for a ride.

“Barely made it,” Scott whistled low, “we about left ya. Looks like you found your bag,” he said looking over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin spread wide across his face.

“Yeah,” she held up the empty parcel, shaking it, “A lot of good it does me empty,” she dropped it back on the seat, clearly cross.

“What's up your ass?” Curt asked as he pulled off. He and Scott got a good laugh as she pouted in the back seat.