WWE One Shots 2

Insult To Injury ~ Dean Ambrose

A/N -Requests have now reopened if you'd like your own one shot written.

The third hit of the mat was struck, my signal to slowly roll off of the ravishing body I lay across, raising their leg in the air.

"Here is your winner, Faya." I chuckled, soaking up the applause of my devoted fans, waving out to the front few rows, noticing a few signs.

I slowly span around on my heels to look to the fans on the other side of the ring, noticing a figure stood halfway down the ramp in a long white coat and black boots.

Miz.

I stared down at him, watching him slowly begin to walk towards the ring, sarcastically bringing the palms of his hands together into a clapping motion.

He climbed into the ring, the vibrations of his heavy boots hitting the mat sending me shaking.

His arm slowly lifted, his hand taking his glasses and pulling them up onto his head. "Well, well, well." He began, crossing his legs and arms. "Faya, we meet again."

"What?" I spat back quickly into the microphone.

"I just came to say hello." The crowd booed, just like they always did, but he was never fazed. A cold heart for a cold man.

"Alright, bye." I couldn't really think of a proper comeback, my mind was racing as to what to do. Run? Talk? Kick him where it hurts?

"Don't be so cruel Faya, at least hear me out." I sighed, nodding, knowing it would be the easiest option out.

In the background I watched Lana slowly walk back up the ramp after I defeated her, subtly keeping herself well out of shot.

"I just wanted to come out here and say how terrible that match was." I nodded, keeping my eyes locked on him the entire time, pushing my shoulders back with confidence.

"Is that it?" He shook his head, chomping down on his gum a little louder, a small gap in his mouth every time his jaw rotated.

"No, I just have one more thing to say." He paused dramatically, the true actor in him clearly showcased. "Faya, you really are the worst wrestler I have ever come across in my life."

I'd never heard a crowd react so poorly, horrified by his comments. Miz's smile turned up, smugly of course, knowing he'd done his job to a tee, but only this time, every word was a personal etch from his heart to my own.

"Your mic skills are dreadful, your body is unappealing, your style is so hundreds of years ago, people don't like you, no one in this room likes you, and no one back there likes you." He pointed to the locker room, not turning his body away from me.

"How dare you." He raised his eyebrows, knowing that I wouldn't dare touch him.

He'd break me, I was barely up to his shoulders in stature, and had muscles not even half the size of his own.

I couldn't crawl under the ring and pretend a nerve wasn't touched or his words would get the better of me, but what was I to do?

The room was slowly falling silent, pushing down on my shoulders, pressure and expectations.

I could feel the icy glares watching my every move, the slightest hint of strength or weakness allowing them to perceive me however they wish.

The titan screen slowly lit up, into small pixels, an image undetermined.

Everyone looked up the ramp trying to figure out what it was. A message. A picture. Nothing could be for sure.

However, as the waves of the speakers boomed, a man in a pair of blue jeans and beige jacket ran down the ramp from the back, sliding straight into the ring.

I stepped back so my back pressed against the ropes, watching Miz scramble trying to find some sort of escape before the quick reflexes of Dean sent him flying into the ring.

His callous hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closely into him, taking him into his usual hold and hitting him quickly with Dirty Deeds, giving Miz absolutely no time to even conjure up some sort of defence.

Once his figure laid safely on the mat, Dean used the ropes for leverage, standing himself up, spinning around to look at me. "Are you alright?"

He cautiously walked over towards me, stretching his arm out gently to place on my shoulder.

"I think so, just a bit of a bruised ego." His demeanour changed once my smile grew, moving a little faster, and placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Don't we all from time to time." I chuckled, moving my frame away from the ropes, making sure to stand tall. "Shall we get you backstage?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." He led me carefully around the lying body on the ground, giving me a couple of seconds to look down at him, his eyelids fluttering open and shut.

"You're not the first to have to stand and listen to him you know, he's done this to plenty of guys." I nodded, zoning out of all the chants from the fans.

"There's always that one guy, you get it wherever you go." Dean smiled in complete agreement, parting the curtains.

"Still, it isn't nice to speak to a woman like that, you're meant to be respected and cared for." My heart slowly broke in two, he carried with him such a sweet soul.

"I wish all men had the same opinion that you did." He led me back down the corridor, pushing away all interruptions with a knowing look.

"When you meet girls like you Faya, of course you deserved to be treated nicely." We both stopped walking, all physical contact removed as we both span to look at each other.

"That's kind of you Dean." My eyes fell in front of his chest, making me look up with a strain to look into his eyes.

"What can I say? You're a beautiful girl." I chuckled, my eyes slowly drifting into the world that his eyes carried.

His hand moved up, cupping my cheek, his strength enough to pull me up onto my tiptoes so our lips could lock together, slowly and passionately, just how it was supposed to be.