Baron Corbin - One Shots

Dreaming Of You

You've been working at Smackdown's backstage as a makeup artist for a couple of months now. Previously, you did that very same job on NXT, which was where you met Baron. The two of you never talked much, he was always very quiet, still is, but that didn't stop you from developing a crush on him.

When he was called up to the main roster, you were very happy for him, he definitely deserved it. But, at the same time, you knew that any shot you might have had with him was out of the window. Then again, you were almost sure there wasn't even a slight chance that was going to be wasted anyway. He obviously didn't like you that way. Hell, sometimes it seemed like he hated your guts.

Then, you were called up yourself. WWE decided to move you to Smackdown, as they trusted your expertise and knew you could work under constant pressure. You love your job, and you always have fun doing it, and that didn't change with your new draft.

Neither did Baron's behavior. He congratulated you on your first day, and would occasionally greet you when he passed by, but not much more than that. It was somewhat frustrating to you, if you're honest. You felt this urge to talk to him and know more about him, but something about his demeanor always made you step back.

A month or so after your call up, the troubles started. A couple of guys on the roster, even backstage workers, have been hitting on you mercilessly, wolf whistling as you pass by, making dirty comments... just being really uncalled for, offensive and even rude. It made you uncomfortable as hell, but you knew that if you actually replied, you'd been giving them more reasons to talk, so you chose to ignore them.

And that was when some of the girls decided to torment you. For everything. For being new... For getting hit on... For just existing. You didn't have many friends up in Smackdown. You weren't exactly a very talkative person, you kept your problems to yourself. You were an easy target. It was as if everything you did ticked them off, irritated them... And for that, they bullied you at any chance. And it was damn hard, considering you had to do their makeups and hair.

It hurt. It hurt so much. You had to take all their bad comments, their humiliations and swallow all your pride every day. They kept on doing that day after day after day... until the wrong person heard it. Baron.

"You know, (y/n)... they all want to fuck you because you're new meat. Don't flatter yourself." Mickie spits venomously as you did her hair. "You're not that hot. Or special. Or whatever." She adds, shrugging it off.

You swallow hard, feeling tears blurring your vision, but refusing to cry in front of her. It's just being too much. Too many feelings bottled up. You honestly don't know how much more you can take. You even thought about resigning. That's how bad it is.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Someone growls from the makeup room's door. You recognize that voice in a mere second.

"Uh... I- Nothing. We were just talking." Mickie replies, stuttering a bit and blushing, as she realized she got caught.

"Talking, uh? It seemed to me that you were the one doing all the talk. And it wasn't a nice one." He retorts, getting inside the room and glaring down at her, sitting down on the chair.

"Hm." She clears her throat, slightly adjusting in her seat. You're still standing behind her, silently thankful for Baron's appearance, but also shocked about it. "I think you got it all wrong, I-"

"No, I think you got it all wrong." He cuts her off, pointing a finger at her, clearly annoyed. "They do want to fuck her because she's hot... and she is special. Men might look stupid but they aren't. We recognize a good, worthy woman when we see one."