This is a request by Tumblr user wwenorsemasquerade, who wanted her beautiful, badass OC Katya brought to life in a story alongside Dean Ambrose. I hope this one is to your liking, my dear; I hope it was worth the wait.

I left the ending open for potential sequels, because I had so much fun writing this one, and I would love to see it go on - with her permission, of course, and assuming she likes this first story. ;) Let's find out~

Tatiana turned down the radio and took her eyes off the road for a brief moment to look at her sister in the passenger seat. "You okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm good," Katya answered, perhaps a little too quickly as Tatiana returned her narrowed eyes forward.

"You're too quiet. You're never quiet. Are you nervous?"

Of course not, Katya thought, tightening the ponytail elevating her reddish-blonde hair. It's only my dream and future career at stake here today. No biggie. She sucked in a breath. She'd be fine. This is what she lived for. It ran in the family; it was in her blood to fight, coming as naturally as breathing. She was following the footsteps of great men before her. If only Tatiana loved to wrestle as much as she loved the concept of wrestling itself. They'd make one hell of a tag team.

Tatiana rested a hand on Katya's bare knee. The material of her black workout shorts stopped just above them. "You're gonna rock it today. Then at the NXT tryouts, you'll blow those trainers' minds."

Tatiana wasn't just a positive person—she was realistically encouraging. She wasn't afraid of being loudly honest when it came down to telling the truth or preserving sensitive feelings. If she didn't believe in her sister, she would have said something; not to be mean, but to allow a bluntly upright retort to settle in Katya's mind before she did something she might regret. Katya loved the hell out of Tatiana. They were best friends.

So Tatiana believing in Katya helped Katya believe in herself.

"Here we are," Tatiana said, swinging her vehicle into a second-row parking spot of the gym. This facility was just down the street from where the NXT would host their tryouts here in a few weeks. A membership here was ridiculously overpriced for that reason. Many of the superstars liked to hang around here sometimes, if they were in town. The staff took advantage of any and all visitors. Training here was already sapping Katya's saving account balance away.

Katya's heart fluttered at the very thought of meeting one of her idols. She fantasized about catching Finn Balor on one of the treadmills, or Baron Corbin lifting weights in the corner, or Sami Zayn himself as her personal trainer!

She held in a scoff. In your dreams, Fabbri. Maybe even unlikely in those.

Tatiana drew her sunglasses off her eyes, setting them atop her head, as Katya followed her into the gym. The place was enormous, stretching over three-thousand square feet and loaded with equipment in every inch. A mixture of body odor, sweat and bleach mingled in the air, making Katya feel a bit dizzy. She took in her breaths quick and deep to get used to the aroma. Even on a Tuesday afternoon, the place was crowded. Her ivy green eyes surveyed the throng of bodybuilders and weightlifters. Nobody around that she recognized.

"Yeah, hi," Tatiana said, swinging her purse onto the counter in confident stride. "I'm Tatiana Fabbri, and this is my sister Kensleigh. She's here for her training session at two-fifteen?"

The muscular jock behind the counter flipped through pages on a clipboard, and a long fingernail hit the center of the paper. "Ah, yeah. Got you right here. Right this way…Ken-slay?"

"You can just call me Katya."

"Oh, okay." His head bounced. "Right this way."

Katya followed the employee around the counter. He turned around in his sneakers and gave Tatiana a funny stare.

"Sorry, but the training sessions are private," he informed her.

"Oh, no problem. I'm her manager, so I've got admission," Tatiana said.

"Uh…no? Sorry, it's the rules. Privacy issue or something."

Tatiana gave Katya a pair of wide eyes. "What did I just say? I'm her sister. What kind of privacy is—"

Katya, not wanting any drama, put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "It's okay, girl. I think I can handle it from here."

Tatiana let out a breath. "Okay, fine. Your session goes for an hour? I'll be back then, alright? Take care of yourself. Work hard. Kick ass. And don't let your trainer take advantage of you. If he's a guy, you know where to hit him where it hurts if he comes on too strongly."

The gym employee stared blankly at Tatiana.

"I'm very protective of her."

"Uh-huh…"

Tatiana gave Katya a half-hug. "Good luck, hon."

Katya followed the employee across the musty gym, past the grunting gym rats and slam of weights against the floor, something that certainly was frowned upon in the establishment. He held open a great wooden door for her. Katya stepped into a vast room, less sweat in the air, much cooler air. In the corner was a wrestling ring. On the other side were workout machines and weights.

"Your trainer will be right with you."

"Thanks."

Katya knew how to workout alone without injuring herself. She found it might be impressive to already be in the process of building her already rather muscular form when her trainer arrived. The better she could make herself look, the more confident she would feel, and confidence was key in a good fighter. Believe you can do great things, and you can do great things.

So Katya situated herself at the bicep curl machine, setting the weight to forty-five pounds for each arm. She was getting close to her younger stepbrother's record, which didn't sound impressive unless one knew how strong he was for his age and size. Naturally good physique ran in the family, too, even those not related by blood. So did boldness and confident aggression. Katya didn't know if it was the Italian side, or just a family thing.

Katya worked out her arms one at a time. She was alone for a lot longer than expected, but when she started to feel the burn in her arms that only drove her to work harder, the wooden doors pulled open, and in walked her trainer.

Katya was lucky she wasn't lifting true barbells, because she would have dropped them to the floor as her breath latched in her throat and her eyes fixated on the six-foot four babe that had just walked in.

Dean Ambrose.

Dressed in his classic attire—a black muscle shirt with the words "DEAN UNSTABLE AMBROSE" printed in white over the chest—tight blue jeans and worn-out shoes, he looked even better in person than he did on television or in her dreams. Assuming this wasn't a dream. This felt very much like a dream, but her arms were too sore to make her believe this was all an illusion.

Was Dean…her trainer?

No way. There was no way.

"Hey, are you Kensleigh?" he asked. The voice sure was his. He'd even pronounced her name right. How often did that happen in real life?

She told him, "I am. You can call me Katya." She raised herself off the machine.

"Oh, thank God," he said, chuckling softly. Her heart whirred in her chest, on the verge of shutting down on itself. "I felt I was gonna stumble over that one all day."

"You're my trainer today?" she asked, unable to believe her own words.

"That I am. Matter of fact, I'm your trainer for the next couple of weeks." He grinned, bearing a perfectly white, straight set of teeth. "You scheduled a lot of these puppies. What's the occasion? Making your way to stardom so early?"

"Oh, you bet. I want to be the world heavyweight champion."

Dean chuckled again. God, she'd never get tired of listening to that laugh. "Well, you can count on that someday with that attitude. You'd make a much better champ than that spineless little ex-brother of mine."

She wanted to shake his hand. Give him a hug. Hell, she wanted to tackle him. But self-control was fortunately one of her strong points.

"Let's get you warmed up, and then go over a lesson plan, huh? What do you say?"

"Sure thing, Dean. I'd like that." Oh my God, I'm thirty-two flavors of lame.

Dean eyed the machine she'd been using before. "Are you lifting at forty-five pounds?"

"I am. I'm going for my brother's record of sixty."

Dean sucked a whistle through his rounded lips. "Damn. That's pretty cool, not gonna lie."

Katya beamed. Dean Ambrose just called me cool. I can die happy.

"Alright," Dean said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them like a villain. "Let's get your cardio going first. Give me a light jog on the treadmill for about ten."

She did so. She obeyed him through every warmup: sit-ups, stretches, pushups (in spire of the burn in her arms), another quick run on the treadmill, more stretches, classic jumping jacks. By the end of it all she was a bit tired, but her exhilaration fought a winning battle against her developing physical shortcomings.

"Alright, Katya, my dear. Let's get you in the ring. First things first: how much do you know about wrestling?"

"As far as the story goes, or…?" She cracked a grin, and Dean did the same.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, in order to pass my class, you have to complete a complete history of the WWE test."

"Dude, bring it. I'd ace it."

"You serious?"

"Super serious."

"What do I even have to teach you? What am I even doing here?"

"Standing there to look pretty. Make me look better beside you. You know."

Dean laughed. "Man, I like you. Your attitude is so refreshing. I get a lot of pipsqueaks in here, let me tell you."

I'm making him laugh. I can't believe this.

Katya pulled herself between the ropes, and Dean moved in behind her. "Let's start with what you do know, then. Give me three moves you already consider yourself a pro at. And don't worry about hurting me. I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

A strange thought flashed in her mind, the thought of actually injuring Ambrose in their training session. Maybe even keeping him off Raw for a while. She shook her head, laughing it off inwardly. Yeah. Like I could do that to him. Still, she wanted to be a bit cautious. At the moment he had no idea what she was capable of, and she was a bit stronger than most.

She decided on her first move.

Katya shimmied up the ropes, balancing herself on the top. Dean stood in front of her by several feet, observing, waiting. Katya dove forward, graceful as an eagle, wrapped her arm around Dean's head in a front face lock and swung herself backwards in midair, landing back-first and simultaneously forcing Dean's head into the mat.

Oh shit, was that too much, too fast? Katya wondered nervously, pushing to her feet.

Dean sat up. "Holy shit," he said, chuckling, rubbing his nose. "That was, uh…that was pretty damn impressive, Katya. Diving DDTs are a favorite of mine."

The compliment washed out her sense of worry—for the most part. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?"

"Nah." Dean rubbed his head, somewhat disproving his statement, and lifted to his feet. "Even if you did, you don't ask your opponent if they're okay. You keep beating the crap out of 'em. You don't see me slamming Seth Rollins's head into the turnbuckle, then leaning in to make sure he's not bleeding."

"Noted."

"What else? I'm here for you, babe."

Katya was certain he didn't mean anything romantic or sexual by it, but still, she faced away from him as her face burned red. "Hmm…let me think…"

Once again she settled on a move that started from the top rope. "Oh no, here she goes again!" Dean said, laughing to let Katya know he was only playing. Katya leaped from the top turnbuckle and drove her shoulder into Dean's torso, forcing him down to the mat. This time he wasn't flattened, and not down for long.

"Spear! Nice one. My buddy Roman Reigns enjoys those. So you're a high flyer, huh? That your specialty?"

"A bit. My figure helps with that. I'm no powerhouse."

"Hey, no, flying moves are really fun. Dangerous, but with great results if executed correctly and safely."

Katya scoffed, comfortable enough around him now—developing this sense of ease around him had come rather quickly, she realized—to make jokes. "Like you're one to tell me about safely-executed moves."

Dean's tongue slid between his teeth in a devious smile. "I do go a little overboard sometimes, huh?"

"Maybe a little on occasions. It's okay. You're still my favorite."

"Oh, am I?" He grinned, playfully cocky. "You sure you don't prefer Roman or Dolph Ziggler or…I don't know, John Cena or someone?"

"Hell no. Roman's cool and all, but he's no you."

"Well, that's really sweet of you. Thanks."

Damn, he was way too good at making her blush. She picked at an imaginary string on her shirt so she didn't have to look at him. That smile of his combined with kind words was a killer collaboration.

"So, Miss High Flyer, mind if I show you a couple of lame low-grounders? Just to get you fully associated with the moves."

"You're the teacher, so I guess I have to let you."

"Hey, not necessarily. You could nail me using that spear again, and make me teach you whatever the hell you wanna learn."

Katya put a finger to her lips. "Teach me some lame low-grounders, then. Just so I can be the best of the best."

"I believe it. Alright, so I'm gonna start with a very basic hold: the front face lock. You might have seen me do this a couple of times…"

Katya's heart went haywire in her chest as he came up behind her, taking her arms in his hands. Though muscular, they felt like twigs compared to his firm hold.

"What you're gonna do is take my head, you're gonna tuck it underneath your underarm like this…" Dean moved himself into the position. His scrunched face made Katya laugh. "Hey, hey, don't laugh, missy. This is very serious wrestling."

It only made her laugh harder. He gave into a goofy grin.

"Fine, mock me. But as you do, you wanna wraps your arm around my head, like this, so that the forearm is pressed against the face—" His words were now a bit muffled by his position beneath her. It didn't stop him from continuing the explanation. "Then grab your own arm with your free hand, like this, to lock in the hold and compress my face." He held her there for a few seconds, then drew out of the weak hold. "If you were facing someone more your size, that's a good setup for a suplex."

"Someone more my size? Man, I will suplex you so fast."

"Alright," he challenged. "Let's see you do it."

Katya wished she could take it back. She wasn't sure whether or not she could actually suplex Dean Ambrose. But she'd give it a try, and that's all he was expecting of her this session, right? Her best try.

Katya pulled Dean into the front face lock as coached, then let out a strained groan as she fiercely attempted to suplex Dean. The most she got him to move was on the tips of his toes. He was chuckling, not at her, but proud of her venture.

"You're getting there."

"Well, it's not fair," she said. "You're supposed to help me out by jumping."

"Oh, I'm supposed to help you out?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "You think we just fake it so our opponents' suplexes can be successful?"

"Yeah, when your opponent is little old me." She flashed him a smile.

"Aww, how can I say no to that face?" He gave her jaw a playful tap with his fist. "Fine, try it again."

She restrengthened her grip and tried on the suplex. Dean dramatically jumped into the air, giving her the leeway she needed to pull the move off. Dean's body struck the mat in what sounded like a genuinely painful thud.

Katya couldn't resist. She darted to his side, hooked his leg, and "pinned" him.

His fist struck the mat twice, and then he lifted one shoulder, halting his hand before the third "count."

"Oh, hell no," she said, raising to her feet with her hands on her hips. "You don't get to kick out of two on me, Ambrose."

"Bring it!" Dean said, hitting his chest like an ape.

Katya leaped forward, arm extended for a clothesline. She wasn't sure if she actually managed to surprise him, or if he was just "letting her win", but either way, he flopped onto the mat again like a fish. She wasn't through. She scaled the ropes, waiting for Ambrose to get to his knees after the clothesline, then took another leap, locking his neck into a firm hold before striking the mat. A diving bulldog.

"Is that all you got?" he asked, still on the mat. His voice had lost a bit of his energy. Was she truly tiring him out? Or was this all still part of his little act?

Katya felt bold. How dare he challenge me, she thought with a grin similar to his so early on, that smug little smirk. She'd teach him.

This time she would be the instructor.

Katya moved atop Dean before he could get up, taking hold of his leg. She constricted his foot in the bends of her elbow and gave the ankle a twist, trapping Ambrose in one of the most painful submission holds she'd ever seen on TV.

"Ow, okay, ow, ow!" he said, still laughing. "Damn, you really do know what you're doing. Ow, ow, okay, okay, here…" Dean's hand battered against the mat. He'd actually tapped out? It didn't seem like acting. She hated to bestow such real pain upon one of her wrestling heroes, but she was impressed with herself and, in turn, hoped he was as well.

"I'm working with a challenge here," he said, wiping his hair from his face.

"What do you mean?" Katya asked, trying not to take it as an insult.

"It's like I said earlier. You already know so much. Why am I even here training you?"

"Bragging rights. I can't wait to rub this in my siblings' faces."

"Ah, very good point. Let's take a break, get some water. Ow."

"I hope I didn't mess you up too badly," Katya said, giggling and wincing, offering a hand for him. He seemed to balance on the ankle alright after standing.

"Nah. I'll walk it off. You're quick, though. Quickness and a high flyer will make you the scariest threat in the NXT. And, eventually, the WWE."

She smiled, biting her lip, following him off the mat towards a water fountain. They helped themselves to long drinks, then sat against the wall near the doors. They were directly under the air conditioning vent on the ceiling. The crisp air felt good against Katya's sweating skin.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Four. Two older brothers, who're twins, a younger stepbrother, and my older sister Tatiana."

"She must be special."

"How do you figure?"

Dean scratched his ear. He looked adorable, like a puppy dog basking in his own cuteness. "She's the only one you gave a name to."

"Ah. Well, yeah, she is pretty special to me. We get along so well, better than most sisters I know. She's older, but people mistake us for twins."

"Do they ever mistake you for Ronda Rousey?"

Katya laughed. "No? I don't think I've heard that one."

"Ah. Well, let me be the first to say it, then. You kinda look like her."

"Do you think Ronda Rousey is pretty?" she dared him, heart hammering like it was tapping out itself. Too late to take it back now…

"Beautiful."

Katya rubbed her cheeks, not bothering to hide them this time. He must have known what he did to her. "Thank you."

The doors swung open. A young guy Katya didn't recognize swaggered into the training room, towel slung over his shoulders. Behind him was a shirtless Seth Rollins, staring down at a phone. He glanced up from the screen to see Dean shooting daggers at him.

Katya wasn't sure whether to squeal or run in terror. World War III was about to break out. Tensions were high and Rollins had only been in here for a few seconds.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, voice lighter than Katya had expected. "This is my room."

"It's all the trainers' room, dude."

"I get it until three-fifteen."

"It's three-twenty-seven, you numbskull. I get the room at three-thirty."

"Is it? Oh, shit, how did time go by so fast?"

"Yeah."

Dean rose to his feet, then stretched a hand towards Katya to help her to her own.

"Who do we have here?" Seth asked, clicking his tongue as he looked Katya up and down. Katya felt both flattered and disgusted. Seth Rollins. It's Seth freaking Rollins and he's totally checking me out.

"My student," Dean said, stepping protectively in front of Katya. Aw. Dean to the rescue. "Training her for the NXT tryouts coming up here."

"That so? Well, I happen to be training Matthew here for the very same thing." He rolled his head in Matthew's direction, who listened to the conversation from the butterfly machine.

Dean scoffed. "That so?"

Seth mimicked his scoff. "Yeah."

"Man, my girl could kick your guy's ass today, tomorrow, forever." Dean raised a defensive arm in Matthew's direction. "No offense, bro, I don't know anything about you, but I know enough about her already, and she's hella good."

"Well, why don't we put them against each other and see who come out on top?" Seth asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Katya swallowed hard. She glanced over at Matthew. He was tall, even taller than Seth, with big arms and a cut chest. He was the powerhouse Katya had mentioned earlier on. Maybe with enough training, she could defeat him someday, but right now…

Dean was on it. "Why don't you just mind your business and go train Paul Bunyan over there? He ain't paying you to pick a fight with me or make fun of my girl."

His girl? Katya's heart was doing somersaults now.

"Again, no offense," Dean quickly said to Matthew.

"Hey, getting insulted by Dean Ambrose is better than conversations with most other people during the day," Matthew said, laughing. At least he had a good heart. Katya wondered how well that would work against Seth's natural vitriol.

"Guess we've gotta call it a day then, Katya," Dean said. He held the door open for her. "After you."

She hated how the session had to end right here. She practically trudged through the door—then stopped. Turned around. Reentered the nippy training room. Stuck her hand out towards Rollins, who looked at it as though he was confused how to react.

"My name is Kensleigh Yekatrina Fabbri. You might wanna remember that. If you've still got your championship by the time I make it to the WWE, I'm taking it from you personally."

His mouth fell open in shock. His deep brown eyes, however, glistened. "Damn, she's got spunk, Ambrose. I can see why you like her." He ended up shaking her hand, something that gave her insides a buzz even so.

"It was very nice to meet you, Seth Rollins."

"Same to you, uh—Kens, uh, Kens—l—"

"Katya."

"Sure thing. Katya."

Katya gave herself another quick gulp of water from the fountain, then followed Dean into the main gym.

"Good workout today, Katya," Dean praised. "You've got a lot of character, a lot of passion, and to be honest, I'm looking forward to our time together."

"Thank you. I am, too."

"I've gotta get back to the office, prep for my next session, but…see you next week?" He offered a firm, friendly, strong, rather sexy hand, which Katya shook with her own strength. He made her wanted to be even stronger, even better of a fighter, than ever before. He was her muse.

"See you next week, Ambrose."

"Go brag to your family."

Katya practically skipped to the door. Tatiana might have asked her why she was so late; she did tend to get paranoid about some things. She couldn't wait to fill her sister in. She had a feeling Tatiana might forgive her this time.