hey all! I'm back with yet another one-shot. don't ya ever get tired of 'em? ...I don't. haha.
so this one involves yet another OC of mine, Daphnie and ever lovely Straight Edge Commentator, CM Punk. note that this was written back when Punk was on Smackdown, Edge was on RAW, and before Christian's injury.
anyway, I hope y'all enjoy it! and Merry Christmas to everyone also! :)
Note: I own no one/nothing other than Daphnie. everyone else owns themselves, of course.
It was dim, though multicolored specks of light reflected from the disco ball-esque structure hanging from the ceiling. The air was thick and hot; bodies were pressed flush against bodies as far as the eye could see. From the upper level, which consisted of a small overhang above the bar in the far back side of the warehouse, it looked much like the mosh pit of a rock concert: bodies jumping and moving in time with the beat emanating from the large speakers in the front as well as various locations throughout the building. A disk jockey was perched behind his turntables, flipping from disk to disk, song to song and mixing and matching, scratching.
Flat, black boots made their way up the metal staircase to the upper level. Tiny black bows on the sides moved gently with the harsh rhythm that their owner carried. One flowing sleeve of the off-the-shoulder material of a dress rode gently with the breeze created by the swift movement. The teal color of the form-fitting garment stood out, even with the dim lighting of the club. Naturally platinum blonde hair was flung carelessly over one shoulder as the owner used an unoccupied hand to brush it to a more convenient position.
Blue-gray eyes scanned the dance floor, searching for familiar faces. A left hand, carrying a small glass filled to the brim with some expensive form of vodka, was lifted to touch plump, soft pink lips and allow the clear liquid to slip through. The glass was set aside on a nearby table and the left hand joined the right in gripping the metal railing. The freshly painted nails, deep blue in shade, of the hands shimmered in the light with each movement and tap of the hands to the beat of the fast-paced dance song.
"Daphnie!"
Without a movement of the head, the blue-gray eyes slipped to the side of their confined socket, examining the dark figure approaching. The deep voice was recognizable, but with the alcohol flowing through her system, she couldn't detect who the voice belonged to. A hand reached up to brush light bangs out of one of the eyes to allow a better view of the newcomer.
His hair was a somewhat darker shade of blonde, the short mess sticking up in an uncaring manner. A bright, yet dazed smile was on his face as he approached, stumbling a bit and chuckling at how much he had actually let himself drink. He held out his arm, bent at the elbow, as he approached, gesturing to it and nodding his head in the direction he came from.
"Come on, Daph. Time to start the party!"
She crossed her arms, reluctant to follow her eager companion downstairs and into the hot, sweaty mob of people. She gestured to his drunken demeanor.
"Looks like you already have, Jay."
He let his arm drop to his side, defeated. He chuckled and pointed a finger at his young, platinum blonde companion.
"You got me there, but seriously, Daph, you should let loose a little bit more. I mean, it's not often both brands are together for more than two weeks at a time. You should take advantage of your time with everyone, like Adam!"
She sighed, running a hand through her mop of somewhat straight hair, which ended an inch or so below her bust, and rested her hand on her hip.
"I dunno, Jay. I mean, I'd love to let loose with you, and you know that, but I really don't care to embarrass myself…again."
Jay laughed and tossed an arm around her shoulders, not-so-gently steering her in the direction of the staircase.
"I won't take no for an answer."
"Obviously," she muttered under her breath.
The previous week, Daphnie had engaged in some rather…risqué…events at a club in Boston. These events included stripping on the bar, grinding on the GM, getting into a drunken catfight with a Diva from the other brand, and not remembering any of the night's events the next morning as she woke up half naked next to one of her coworkers, also from the other brand, in a cheap motel. Needless to say, Daphnie was not prepared to have to explain herself and endure the large amount of ribbing she would be sure to receive if she did such a thing again. She had already had too much to drink tonight and was in fear of losing control.
There was also one specific person whose opinion she valued more than the rest, and she was under the impression that he didn't approve of the majority of her antics in Boston.
"I can't believe I let myself drink that much," Daphnie sighed, hanging her head in her hands as Jay continued to move her closer to the dance floor now that they were on the lower level.
"I'd blame Adam for that one. You two are just horrible together," Jay laughed, recalling the events of the previous week.
"Me and Adam? You too are way worse! You're like children!"
"That may or may not be true. Regardless, you and Adam act like horny teenagers."
"Adam sure does, but I do not."
"Fine. You're not a horny teenager; you're a filthy rich spoiled brat."
"I am not!"
"A careless ho whose only concern is her money and social status?"
"…no."
"Fine. You're neither of those things, but I still think you're an ungrateful bitch."
Daphnie scowled, despite knowing that Jay was just joking, and hung her head, embarrassment obvious in her body language, "Phil thinks the exact same thing."
Jay stopped and gave her a knowing smile accompanied by a wink, "You shouldn't worry so much about what he thinks of you, Daph."
She acted offended, "What? I could care less what he thinks about me!"
"Sure, Daph. Sure."
"Daffy!"
A turn of the head caused Daphnie to be met with the sight of her tall friend, one of her closest friends. He looked sharp, dressed in casual dark wash jeans and a deep blue and black striped button up shirt.
"Adam!" the platinum blonde cheered, her blue-gray eyes shining with the excitement of seeing him, despite the mischief that seemed the followed the two of them everywhere. He wrapped an arm around her, unintentionally pushing Jay away.
Jay chuckled, his eyes flickering between the two, "Don't get into too much trouble now, you two. We don't need a repeat of last week."
Adam laughed loudly, his Canadian form of speech more pronounced with the slur of his drunken words, "Certainly don't! We wouldn't wanna put the wrong ideas in Phil's head, would we?"
He gave Daphnie a lopsided smile and she scowled at him.
"What does Phil have to do with this?"
Jay gave her a knowing smile and simply walked away to continue his partying, while Adam nearly toppled over with laughter.
"You're kidding, right? You so silly, Daffy!"
Daphnie nearly lost it herself in a fit of giggles at Adam's drunkenness. She attempted a serious expression and continued.
"No, really. What makes you think he has to do with anything?"
Adam took a deep breath and stood up straighter, his own expression also turning serious in an attempt to hide his own resentment regarding what he was about to say.
"You talk about him all the time, Daph. You're embarrassed to drink in public, or private, because you think he'll find out and get an even worse impression of you. You don't want him to think any worse of you than he already does, and even though you think he doesn't care, you want him to care."
Daphnie blushed, though she thought it went unnoticed by her tipsy companion, "That's not true."
"You're blushing right now; I can tell. You're embarrassed."
"Am not!"
"Then why are you getting so defensive?"
"I'm not!"
"You're not what?"
A hand was gently placed on her right elbow, causing the platinum blonde to whip around in surprise and nearly slap her new guest in the face with her hair. She let out a silent gasp once she realized who it was and ran a hand down the smooth fabric of her one shouldered dress in an attempt to appear more composed, tossing her thick hair over her shoulder in the process.
"Hey…Punk," she said, her voice giving away that she was nervous. She gave him a small smile and put a hand on her hip, trying to stop from swaying and attempting to appear as sober as possible.
Adam chuckled to himself, masking his true emotion at the time and stumbled away, wondering what kind of mischief Daphnie would end up getting herself into tonight.
Phil rolled his eyes at her greeting and gave her a smirk, "You know you don't have to try to impress me, Daphnie."
She dropped her hand from her hip and frowned, looking at the ground in a guilty fashion. Phil laughed lightly at her reaction to him calling her out.
Daphnie noted how his hand was still on her other elbow in a firm grip. It felt like her arm was on fire where he was touching, the sensation worsening as he slid his hand down the length of her forearm and into her own hand. She looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised and confused at his gesture.
He locked his eyes onto hers as he lifted her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it in a gentlemanly fashion.
"Dance with me?"
Daphnie allowed her eyes to shift to the dance floor. The music had switched to a more rock-like tune, though the dance and funk vibe remained. She returned her eyes to Phil's and, despite knowing what a meaningless flirt he liked to be, allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up in a closed-mouthed smile.
He winked in response and gently led her through the mobs of sweaty bodies. The air grew thick and she found it hard to breathe. Nonetheless, she allowed Phil to lead her around, something she would let few other people do. Daphnie may not always show it, but she loved a dominant man, even though she was rather extroverted herself. She may come off as a free spirited feminist to most, but Phil knew the 'stubborn' type all too well.
He and Daphnie were much more similar that either of them thought.
Thinking back to the previous week and her drunken antics she hoped Phil wouldn't question her about, Daphnie honestly wasn't sure what had happened between her and the RAW superstar from the time they stumbled out of the bar to the time they had woken up next to each other. She didn't want to think that anything had happened between them, but a little nagging voice in the back of her head told her otherwise.
Or maybe she was just paranoid.
Still, Phil had been acting even more smug than usual in the past week. Daphnie had a feeling that he knew something that she didn't about the rumor that she and her coworker had slept together.
And she was determined to find out the extent of his knowledge on the subject.
Though she was rather curious as to why Phil was acting so weird and abnormally accepting of her behavior tonight, and thought it best to discover that answer before she weaseled any other vital information out of him.
Phil stopped rather abruptly, though with his quick reflexes and natural grace, swiftly spun Daphnie around before she collided with him. She landed gently against him, her backside flush with his front. His arms were crossed around her, effectively trapping her, just as he planned.
Daphnie's mind, already clouded due to the vodka she had been nursing all night, was spinning with thoughts of Phil and his actions. Though not a bad guy nor a womanizer, he harbored a mysterious aura and masked intentions involving herself that she had yet to discover.
In such close proximity, Daphnie was finding it difficult to put her rambled assumptions into coherent thoughts. His cologne felt like it was shooting straight up her nostrils, she could feel his stubble on her right cheek, and his breath, which smelled faintly of Pepsi and cinnamon gum, ran along her jaw line and down her neck. His right hand was on the left side of her hip with his left hand on her right side as he guided their bodies in unison to the beat. Daphnie was sure he could feel her heartbeat pounding through her chest, or so it felt.
Eventually, she just gave up and let the alcohol flowing through her system control her actions. Phil could feel her body relax further against him, if that were even possible. A smooth hand was placed over his rough one and pressure was applied. He allowed Daphnie to guide his hand from her hip down her thigh, the skin feeling like silk beneath his fingers. She moved their hands back up, though instead of returning to their previous position, she led them under her short, yet modest, dress. She removed her own hand and placed it behind his neck, pulling slightly on his shoulder length black hair in a teasing manner.
Something Phil had always loved about Daphnie was her teasing nature, even when it wasn't sexual.
Though her teasing under these circumstances was so much better, in his opinion.
To Daphnie, it felt as though there weren't even clothes separating the two. She could feel all of him pressed flush against her back, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying every second of it. Slowly but surely, his hand, which remained under her dress, slid higher. Just as he was about to reach her undergarments, she spun herself around, startling him.
Phil's hand retracted and went back to her hip as he gave her a questioning stare. She pushed herself roughly against him and smirked as his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head.
She loved toying with men far too much.
She pulled his head down to her level by way of her grip on his neck and stared him in the eyes for a while. He simply smirked back and licked over his lips and lip ring, intentionally allowing his tongue to ghost over her own lips. She gave him a challenging look and moved her head to whisper in his ear.
"So are you going to tell me what exactly happened last weekend or am I gonna have to work it out of you?"
Something about the way she said work made Phil's smirk even wider. He knew exactly what she was hinting at, yet he wasn't about to spill the beans anytime soon. This dirt he had on Daphnie was too good to pass up. The truth of their coworkers' assumptions was known by few, one of those being Phil, and he planned to use this leverage to the best of his advantage.
He loved playing mind games far too much.
He moved his own head so his lips brushed past her cheek and over her ear.
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
He pulled away slowly, gazing down as Daphnie to see her reaction. Her platinum blonde bangs hung in her mischievous blue-gray eyes, which currently held a devious glint in them.
She ran her hand down his black t-shirt clad chest in a slow and teasing manner.
"Why do you say that, Phil?"
She slid one of her legs inbetween his, gently pressing upward. Phil held back a groan and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he continued to guide Daphnie's hips in time with his to the music.
The way his name easily rolled off her tongue in such a lustful manner surprised not only Phil, but Daphnie as well. The only conclusion her foggy brain could come up with was that she was obviously more into Phil than she had originally thought.
This was not at all what Phil had planned. He wanted to bring her out to the dance floor, tease her with his knowledge of her personal life and mess with her a bit and then leave her hanging and wanting more from him. He didn't want her to look, and act, so appealing to him. Despite being completely sober, his body was starting to want something his mind did not, and this was not the direction he wanted to go in right now.
Phil didn't need alcohol to raise his sex drive; he had enough carnal urges as he was.
To most men, including fans, Daphnie was a platinum blonde bombshell that showed off far too much skin, was far too full of herself and her abilities, and always managed to get her way through sexual favors, or at least sexual implications. As long as he had worked with her, Phil had been under the impression that her real personality matched her in-ring persona. He had his doubts, hence part of the reason he asked her to dance (the other being to increase her paranoia regarding a certain man who went by the name of PJ), though now he found himself wondering if his first impression was truly the right one.
Well, he thought to himself, if she wants to play games, I can certainly play games.
He licked over his lips again, staring down at Daphnie with a new look in his eyes. It was one she had never seen him use before, and knowing that it was directed at her made the nervousness all the more prominent.
"If only you knew, Daphnie."
She took in a sharp breath as his hand went up under her dress again and to her backside, pushing her even harder against him. Phil had to close his eyes again at the contact, even though he initiated it.
Daphnie didn't know how much more teasing she could put him through before she caved into the sexual tension herself. She didn't want to appear weak or easy, especially after what she could only assume happened last week.
In her mind, she probably gave herself to the superstar willingly after a few drinks. They probably rented some cheap motel room and couldn't even get themselves into the door before they were ripping their clothes off of each other. It probably led to some pretty amazing drunk sex: amazing drunk sex that Daphnie wished she could remember.
Then again, knowing Phil's backstage antics and in-ring persona , he could just be messing with her. Maybe nothing happened at all. Maybe he was just toying with her like she had done to so many men, including the one she woke up with last week. It would be karma, in a sense.
If she could just remember, she wouldn't be in this situation.
Phil, noting the spaced-out look in Daphnie's eyes, decided to bring her back to reality. He smirked as he leaned down.
Daphnie snapped out of her thoughts due to the odd feeling on her bare left shoulder and moving up her neck. A slight pinch was all she felt, though it was enough for her to toss her head back and push harder on the back of Phil's neck as a small sigh escaped her lips.
She could feel Phil smirking against her skin, as well as his oddly cold lip ring, as the nibbling sensation continued. At this point, Daphnie didn't even care about the enormous mark he was leaving on her neck. All she could think about was how good it felt as she dug her nails deeper into the back of Phil's scalp.
"What are you doing?" she managed to breathe out.
Phil licked over the already forming bruise one last time before lifting his lips up to her ear, still not allowing her to see his face.
"Gaining your attention. It worked, right?"
Daphnie could hardly control herself. In his supposed lust, she could barely make out what he was saying, yet it only made her even more hot and bothered. She needed to get out of this situation…and fast.
She let out a small, unbelieving laugh, easing the tension ever so slightly, "I'll say."
Phil himself chuckled and pulled back to see his handiwork. That one, melodic laugh was enough to clear the sexual part of the tension between the two, for the most part. He couldn't help but grin deviously as he saw the large, discolored section of skin on the tender flesh of Daphnie's neck. He had no idea what made him want to mark her. It was as if someone took over his body for a moment and did was he really wanted to do. Actions are fueled by subconscious wants and desires, so Sigmund Freud said.
I really need to stop reading those psychology books in my spare time.
Daphnie could still see some of that animalistic glint in Phil's eyes as he eyed over her neck. He eventually lifted his eyes to meet hers, a grin on his face.
Rather than question him about his strange behavior, Daphnie began to fan herself as a distraction after she pulled slightly away from Phil. She was still rather…bothered…and wanted to think that Phil was too, though he didn't act like he was overly bothered by the newfound distance.
After regaining her composure, Daphnie had the nerve to ask him, "So are you going to tell me?"
Phil gave her a confused look, too lost in his own thoughts, "What?"
"You know, tell me what really happened between me and…you know…"
"PJ?"
Daphnie nodded.
Phil smirked, "If I just told you, that'd be too easy."
Daphnie frowned, and closed her eyes, swaying back and forth as she became aware of just how much alcohol she had already consumed that night.
Phil furrowed his brows and eyed Daphnie warily. After she appeared to overcome her dizzy spell, he decided this would be a good time for one of his infamous 'straight edge lectures'. The only reason he even considered this was just to mess with Daphnie, which was a hobby he considered seriously investing time in.
"See, Daphnie? See how miserable you are?" he began, channeling his inner jackass, "You know this could all have been prevented if you just chose to not drink-"
Daphnie was having none of it. First, Phil acts like an asshole at the SmackDown taping hours earlier, next he acts like a gentleman and leads her out to the dance floor, then he acts like an animal and basically claims possession over her when he has no right to do so, and now here he was, being an asshole again and giving her a speech about her excessive drinking habits?
He has some nerve, that conceited asshole!
She took a wobbly step towards him and poked him harshly in the chest, fully allowing the alcohol to lower her inhibitions and say a few things she normally wouldn't have the nerve to say.
"Listen here, Punk," she stated, her glazed eyes attempting to locate the real Phil, who held an amused expression, in her moving line of vision, "I don't care who you think you are. I don't care if you think you're better than me! You're not! You're not better than any of the rest of us! You have no right to bite me and mark me, you assclown! You know what? Forget the biting! You can just kiss my ass, buttfucker!"
Phil smirked at her drunken attempt to tell him off. He found it kind of cute, really, that she felt the need to defend herself. If he weren't in denial concerning his feelings (or lack thereof) for Daphnie, he might have tried preventing her from drinking tonight in the first place. For the year that he had know her, he had watched her drinking become worse and worse. Now she was at the point that she could drink herself to oblivion and not even care, or notice. Alas, she was an adult and could make her own decisions and, despite Phil's hope, he doubted that her drinking habits would cease any time soon.
In the middle of her aggressive and entertaining rant, Daphnie's eyes closed and she halted her speech. Phil reached out to tap her on the shoulder and make sure she was still awake, but before he could do so, she fell right into him. Startled, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her to stabilize her. He pulled her back to get a better look at her head as it flopped around. He used one hand to hold it in place and used the other arm to hold her upright against his side.
"Daphnie?"
Moving his hand from the back of her head to her face, he tenderly brushed some of the now unconscious Daphnie's layered hair out of her closed eyes. He sighed and shook his head, shaking himself from his daze.
Without even giving it a second thought, Phil put his other arm under her legs and swept her up into his arms. Ignoring the curious stares of his coworkers, he effortlessly carried her through and out of the club, prepared to walk the six blocks back to the hotel with Daphnie in his possession.
Jay and Adam could be seen standing drunkenly in the background, yet still sober enough to know what was going on, as Phil carried their 'little' protégé away.
"Think she'll be safe?" Adam questioned, the joking aura gone and replaced with one of genuine concern.
Jay turned to his childhood friend, giving him a reassuring smile, "Phil's a good guy. He'll get her back to her room safely.
Adam sighed in relief, "You're right; Punk's not a bad guy. He'll take good care of our little Daffy."
"Hopefully not the way PJ took care of her last week," Jay commented, earning a laugh from the obliviously drunk Adam.
"Doubt it, dude."
Jay cracked a smile and wrapped an arm around Adam, leading him back to the dance floor. The two cast one last glance at Daphnie as she was carried out the front door in Phil's arms, their overprotective nature towards their protégé showing in their matching thoughts.
If that punk even thinks about laying one sober finger on her, his straight edge ass is mine.