Wrestling Oneshots (Requests Closed)

Jon Moxley (DA) - You Could Never Really Hurt Me

Summary
You have been told you have to film a promo with your on and off screen boyfriend.
This should be fun.
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"I don't want to hurt you" You roll your eyes and smile at Jon.
Despite his in the ring persona, his rough, tough and ready to crack a skull attitude, he always does this.

Every time there is a promo with you involved he frets to no ends about hurting you accidentally, even though it's in the script and it's in his character.

"Jon, Y/n, it's time" the cameraman says. You nod, walking to the side. Jon follows you, taking a hold of your hand.
"Jon, I'll be fine, you know this" you smile and he nods, walking over to the corner of the room, you watching closely as Jon gets into character.

It's an interesting couple of minutes as he drives himself insane but it's the same routine as every time.
The screaming for no reason, random outbursts of laughter and staring at you like you are a piece of meat.

You wait patiently for the cameraman to say the camera is rolling before walking in shot to where Jon is stood in the corner.

"You have some explaining to do Mox" you state, staring at him, he turns sharply to look at you, face blank. "Where were you last night" he doesn't answer, so you take a step closer to him. "Moxley you asshole. Answer me!" he reaches out, arm as quick as ruler springing back into place as he grabs your h/l h/c locks, pulling you close to him.

"It doesn't matter where I was" he growls "You don't have to watch over me like a hawk. You're my girlfriend and I own you, not the other way around, understand?" you nod the best you can, but his hand in your hair tightening causes you to let out a quiet whimper.

"Oh, did that hurt? I'm sorry" he snaps, letting go of your hair, taking a hold of your jaw instead.
Using the tight grip he has on your jaw he pulls your face to his.

"Jon-" Your voice is quiet and he snarls at the sound of it.
"Listen woman, you do what I say, when I say and how I say, and if I say it doesn't matter it doesn't matter" you bite your lip and nod, "good girl" you close your eyes, trying to turn your head away as he drags his tongue up your cheek, but it works to no avail, a trail of saliva being left on the side of your face.

He laughs at your disgusted reaction, pushing your head away, causing you fall to the ground with thud.
"And for the record, I was busy making sure Tyler wasn't able to wrestle for the title, my title!"

"We're done" the cameraman says with a smile on his face, walking away.
"You okay?" he asks, rushing over and holding out his hand to help you up.

"Yeah" you say, taking his hand.
He pulls you up onto your feet, holding you close to him.
You reach up and rub your jaw, a tingling sensation where is fingers had been digging into your flesh only moments ago.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, "If I did I didn't mean to you know how I-" you put your index finger against his lips, silencing him.

He does this every time; as soon as no one else is looking at him, he obsesses over your well-being, always being overly concerned.
Not that its necessarily a bad thing he cares a lot, just that sometimes it can get to be a little overwhelming, but you don't mind.

"Jonathan. I'm fine" you say, and he gives you a worried look.
"Are you sure?" you roll your eyes at him for the second time in all of 20 minutes.

He moves your head to examine where his hands had been, in the light, furrowing his eyebrows.
You know he's left faint marks but they'll fade quickly, they always do.

He never applies pressure enough to bruise you, he cares too much about your well being.
"Stop it" you swat away his hands from your jaw, "those marks will fade in the next 10 minutes, the ones down my back won't" he grins. "I don't know what you're smiling for Moxley, I was made the laughing stock of the locker room"

"Lets have a look" he says, turning you around. You cross your arms as he lifts up your shirt, sure enough to reveal the signs of last nights encounters.

Onscreen you didn't know where he was, but off screen was an entirely different story.
"Holy shit!" he shouts, dropping your shirt, "That's awful, I can see why they laughed" you scowl, knowing he can't see the look on your face.

You turn to face him, crossing your arms. He stands there mirroring you exactly, only with a huge grin rested upon his features, knowing it's his handiwork which has caused the deep red lines down your back.

The two of you stand and stare at each other for a while, you not really knowing what to say, not to mention Jon is too busy giggling to himself to speak to you.

For a good five minutes you have been standing in the same position, looking at Jon with the same straight face as he laughs.
He does stop laughing every now and then, but all it takes is for him to glance up and look at you for him to begin laughing once more.

Finally Jon manages to pull himself together, managing to stand and look at you in the eye.
"Are you done?" you say and you can tell he is holding back a laugh. He nods and you smile. "Good, because if I remember rightly, Moxley, you owe me a meal" he groans.

Jon isn't really one for anything fancy, he never was and you get the feeling he never will be, but he still owes you a nice night out where the two of you can relax for at least a short while.

The two of you were supposed to go out last night instead but he said "another time" saying he was in too much pain after the short lived match earlier that night, only to prove that he wasn't in pain at all only two hours later.
And unlike last time, not that he knows it yet, there is not chance for a rain check just so he doesn't have to pay.