AN: So, yet another update! I feel like... Uber or something. I started this AN before I figured out which story to update, but it's obvious that it's going to this fic RIGHT HERE! Yeah. So, this chapter is, again, for NeroAnne and is PunkJeff. I hope you love it, like I love you. Pairing title (Junk) goes to NeroAnne... I got it from her. I don't know if she got it from anyone or not, but she's who I got it from so meh!

Disclaimer: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

Junk - Steamin Up the Place

Jeff sighed as he held onto his head. That last shot with the Title had really effing hurt. He was surprised he was able to get up. Matt had been there to help, and that was great, but the dream was over. Jeff sat in the locker room, his shirt still hanging around his waist, and he gently pulled his hair out of the bun, moving gently to prevent from causing more pain to his head.

This change had been coming for a while, but Jeff hadn't expected it to turn so violently to him... Then again, maybe he should have. He and Phil had been such good friends before this whole thing, but now, he wasn't sure. Well, all in all, at least he got Matt back, and his fans were still standing behind him. That was good, right?

A knock sounded on the door of the locker room, and Jeff frowned slightly. Matt had wanted to stay with him for a while, but Jeff's head was pounding, and Matt felt horrible for the stuff he had done. He agreed to leave Jeff alone for a while.

As the pounding came back, Jeff groaned and stood up, walking to the door.

"Matt! You're forgiven. You said you'd leave me al-"

Jeff's voice trailed off as his vibrant green eyes met the olive color of the man who had given him the headache. Phil was also still in his wrestling gear, and he had a crazed smirk on his face.

"Hello, Jeff," Phil said, grinning. Jeff stood his ground, eyes narrowing.

"What do you want? Haven't you done enough?" Jeff snapped. Punk's grin faded quickly to a snarl of rage. He pushed Jeff backwards, causing the other man to stumble and allow Phil access into his room. Jeff growled and stood nose-to-nose with Punk.

"No, I haven't. Your fans still stand beside you and your mistakes. Do you feel good, knowing that you've taught these chlidren that drugs are good?" Punk whispered, his voice acidic.

"Back the fuck off, Phil. Get the hell out of my room, or I'm going to kick your ass," he stated. Phil snorted in laughter.

"What? You think you can kick my ass? You couldn't beat me at a match that you headlined for years, the TLC match, at Summerslam. I would've continued the carnage after the match, if your guard dog, Mark, hadn't so cleverly gotten you away. And you know what, Jeff...? I'm going after Matt next."

Jeff's eyes widened at the idea of Matt having to suffer through the same stuff he had to at the hands of Phil, and he reacted out of instinct. Before Jeff could stop himself, Jeff's hand curled into a fist, came back, and he punched Phil right in the face. The dark haired Superstar leaned back slightly with the force of the punch, but his foot went back, slamming the door to the room shut behind them. He threw a punch back at Jeff, catching the blond Superstar off-guard. The force of the surprise punch, fueled by Phil's anger at having been caught off-guard by Jeff, caused the Hardy to fall backwards. Phil quickly turned around and bolted the door shut.

"You've made me mad, Jeffy," Phil said, his voice mocking. Jeff scrambled backwards, his brain trying to form a quick escape plan in case this turned as bad as Jeff thought it was going to. Phil followed Jeff, blocking him into a corner, before he knelt down, grabbing Jeff's wrists and holding them together over Jeff's head. Jeff whimpered softly and shifted, trying to wiggle his way free. He felt Phil's grip tighten on his and he met his gaze, still not staying still.

"And now, I'm going to take the only thing I've left alone."

With those menacing words whispered in his ear, Jeff's eyes widened in horror and shock. He thrashed, trying to get loose from Phil, but he wasn't doing well. Phil let go of Jeff's hands with one of his, sending his elbow into Jeff's temple. Jeff cried out softly in surprised pain, and temporarily stopped flailing and squirming. That allowed Phil the opportunity to quickly remove Jeff's ring boots and yank down his pants. Jeff gasped in surprise and had a renewed fight in him. He tried to kick loose, but Phil reached up, wrapping his hand around Jeff's throat.

"No, Jeff. You're going to sit back and let me do this. Do you want to know why...?" Phil asked, his breath warm against Jeff's ear. Jeff growled.

"Why, you sick fuck?" He hissed. Phil smirked as his other hand moved down to slide into Jeff's boxers, grasping his flaccid cock and stroking it. Jeff whined softly, trying to fight his natural instinct.

"Because otherwise, I go after that darling brother of yours... I bet his ass is tighter than yours... You're Mark's little whore, aren't you?"

"Fuck you!"

"Such a temper..."

With that said, Phil was obviously done talking. He pressed his lips to Jeff's, smirking when Jeff tried to bite his lip. Of course, this only worked to turn Phil on more. He continued to stroke Jeff's cock to full hardness. Jeff was trying to breathe, but Phil wasn't letting up that much. Phil seemed to realize that strangling Jeff wasn't going to do what he wanted to, so he let up enough for the Hardy to breathe. Jeff watched Phil, frowning slightly.

"What...? Now you're going to rape me? Do it, Phil. You've taken everything else from me," Jeff said. Phil's hand never steadied, but he did look up at Jeff.

"I know," he said, his face turning to a smirk. Phil flipped Jeff forcibly, pulling his own cock out of his trunks, leaving the Hardy on his hands and knees. Without warning, he positioned himself and thrust hard into Jeff. Jeff screamed in pain, but it was cut off as Phil's hand tightened on his throat.

"No, don't be too loud, Jeff," Phil demanded, pulling back and thrusting back in. "I don't need anyone coming in here to watch you being my whore, do they...?" Jeff bit his lip hard, half afraid that Phil was going to strangle him to death. Phil's thrusts were ripping his ass apart, and Jeff swore he felt blood. Tears burned behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

"Shit... You're surprisingly tight, Jeff... What? Has Mark not fucked you? Too bad..."

Jeff gasped loudly as Phil's harsh thrusts stabbed his prostate. Phil smirked at the sound and angled his thrusts to hit the same spot, even as his hand moved back and forth on Jeff's cock. A tortured sound escaped Jeff, and Phil's thrusts became faster, harder. With a groan, Phil came inside Jeff. His hand continued to move, roughly stroking up and down, until Jeff came with a soft cry. Phil then pulled back, pulling his now-flaccid cock out of Jeff and licking his hand. Jeff fell to his side, coughing and gasping for breath.

"Now... Now you can leave."

Phil cleaned himself up using the remains of Jeff's shirt, which he had ripped off of the man at some point during his attack, and left after tucking himself back into his trunks. Jeff winced at the pain in his back and throat, and tried to sit up. He felt the blood and cum slide out of his ass and whimpered softly.

"Jeff? I heard so-"

The deep voice had Jeff wincing, but not in pain. No, this was much, much worse. Jeff lifted his head, praying that Phil hadn't been squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

"Mark..." Jeff hated the way his sore throat made his voice small and weak. Mark pushed the door shut, anger boiling behind his eyes. He walked over, picking Jeff up, carefully, to avoid jarring him.

"Jeff, who did it?"

Mark's growl was more menacing, worse than anyone had ever heard in the ring. Jeff clung to Mark, shaking his head.

"Mark... Please. I just want to be clean and go home."

"Jeff, evidence."

"Mark. Please."

Jeff's eyes were pleading and Mark growled, shaking his head and walking with Jeff to the shower. He turned on the water, got it warm, and let Jeff bathe in peace. After Jeff was in, Mark looked at his hand. A mixture of white and red was there, just a little bit, but Mark knew what it was. Someone was going to get seriously hurt.

Junk - Fin

AN: There ya go! I know there was some Taker/Jeff there at the end, but it was to help end it to my satisfaction. I hated the idea of leaving Jeff just lying there. Anyway... I'm not sure how much I like this one, but there it is... As I just said. I'm so tired. Next up is... ShawnTaker for BellaHickenbottom! Until then.

.: TheMizMagnet :.