A/N: Hey my little Dynamites. Here is another update for you all, I'm trying to catch up for all the time I missed with updating this story. I'm really getting back into it again, I have so many ideas for it. It's just getting them all down and sorted through that is bugging me.

Once again thank you for the reviews, alerts, etc. I cannot begin to tell you how excited it makes me to read your thoughts and opinions. I'm glad to see everyone is enjoying it so far. I have big plans. Anywho... On with the show! You know the drill, read, review and enjoy!

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC's and my ideas. This is entirely a work of fiction. I am not affiliated with the WWE and/or any of it's Superstars & Divas. No matter how much I wish otherwise. Or ask Santa. CM Punk has never been found wrapped up under my Christmas Tree... So far. But there is always this year. Fingers Crossed.

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The song is 'Your Name Is Tattooed On My Heart' by Screeching Weasel

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Chapter 9: Your Name Is Tattooed On My Heart

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"...Well I know that our love is for real,
But I thought you should know how I feel,
So you're not going anywhere, won't fade away,
Cause your name is tattooed on my heart and I'll always be true..."

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Punk's POV

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Scarlett and I were laying on the bed in our hotel room watching The Shining. After we had left the trainers room I helped her back to the Divas locker room to collect her bag. She had decided she would just keep her ring gear on and shower back at the hotel.
I was glad.
We hadn't spoken all day and I couldn't wait to get out of the arena and spend some time with my girlfriend. Alone time, away from everyone and everything, just the two of us.
No snakes.

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Scarlett snuggled up closer to me, resting her head on my chest as I absent-mindedly ran my fingers through her long red hair. She took my other hand and laced her fingers with my own as she stared straight ahead at the TV screen. She was engrossed in the movie, it was one of our favourites. Horror movies, an interest we shared. But I wasn't really paying attention.
My mind was otherwise occupied.
Occupied with thoughts of one man, a man I despised, a man I loathed with every fibre of my being...
Randal Orton.

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I couldn't stop thinking about that asshole. I hated everything about him, and had for a long time. He thought he was so much better than everyone else. Just because his father and grand father were wrestlers, he thought that entitled him to be at the top of the ladder. He didn't want to work his way up, not if he didn't have to, he'd bitch and moan and make threats until he was given exactly what he wanted. Whether it be main event matches, championships or storylines, what Randal wants he almost always gets.
And it makes me sick.

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There are hundreds of guys like me, guys who work their ass's off in shitty Indy companies, working for next to nothing hoping for their big break, hoping someone will see their passion, their love of the business.
Some never make it and end up desolate, still giving small crowds a show until they can't any more.
Some do make it, someone spots their potential , gives them a break and they work their damn hardest to succeed. Because they know it can all be over in an instant, one botched move, one bad match and it's over and they go back to where they started.
For guys like me who have worked their way out of the gutter, going back is a terrifying thing, you can't go back, not when you've had a taste of the cherry at the top.
That's what makes guys like Orton dangerous.
They get everything handed to them on a silver platter so often that they stop caring. And the fans tune out, bored of seeing all the Super Cena's and Randy Orton's winning title after title, not giving the young guys a shot.
They are a cancer on this business that I love so much.
But it's not just them, it goes even higher up, from the bookers and writers all the way to the top dog – Vincent Kennedy McMahon.

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Scarlett shifted in my arms and I looked down at her, she was asleep. She was truly beautiful and the best bit about it was that she had no idea just how stunning she was.

She played down her looks a lot, she wore make-up if and when she wanted to, she didn't feel the need to smother her face in orange paint like the majority of the other Divas.
That was one of the many reasons I loved her, she knew who she was and embraced it, she didn't try to change for anyone, not even me, though I would never ask her to.
Sometimes I'd just stare at her and wonder how an old douche like me got her. Young, gorgeous, smart. And with nearly ten years between us I often wondered what it was she saw in me. She was twenty one years old, most people her age were out living it up, partying every night. Not staying in to watch movies with a Straight Edge thirty one year old. Sometimes felt like I was holding her back. But then I reminded myself that Scarlett was her own person, and she didn't let anyone make her do things she didn't want to do.

That's one of the reasons why I got so angry last night when she went out for drinks with Orton.
I knew that she had chosen to go out with him, he hadn't made her and that's what makes me think there is something going on between them. They had been spending so much time together lately, both in and out of the ring. I didn't want to think these things but I couldn't help it.

My eyes travelled down her arms, to her chest, past her slightly exposed torso right down her long slender legs and back up again.
My eyes settled on her hips.
The same hips Orton had had his slimy paws on.
I began to imagine his hands all over her and felt my blood boil.

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"... Am I such a fool,
To show my love for you,
I know it's no mistake,
And no this thing is not a fake..."

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I moved slowly from the bed, making sure not to wake her and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I leaned my head against the bathroom mirror and tried to will the images away.
Images of that snake touching her, kissing her... I punched the mirror.
My fist making it crack and shattering a few shards. I ran my hands under the water to wash off the blood, then threw some water over my face.

No. I wouldn't let myself think like that.

Scarlett would never do that to me.
She loves me.
And besides, even if she didn't she's not that cruel. She knows how much I hate Orton, she would never destroy me like that. I was just being paranoid. It was all in my head. I took a deep breath before opening the door and moving back into the hotel room.

I looked at the sleeping redhead and sighed.
I really hoped it was paranoia.

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Scarlett's POV.

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I awoke at 6am, still tired and groggy. Phil had woken me every few hours to make sure I was still alive. While I appreciated him looking out for me, I would have appreciated an unbroken sleep.

Stretching slightly I yawned.
I looked to my right, there he was, my knight in shining armour.
Sleeping peacefully.

I went to move to get out of bed but felt myself restrained by a large arm around my midsection. I tried to pry myself free, taking hold of the wrist and attempting to unsecure it from my waist but as I tried to remove it a muffled voice startled me.

"Go back to sleep."

"You sleep on, I'm getting up."

"No." He replied pulling my back against him so that we were now spooning. "I don't want you to leave."

"Well unless you want to get covered in pee, I suggest you relinquish your hold."

He pouted, eyes still closed and finally he loosened his grip.

"Thank you." I said as I bounced over him out of the bed and into the bathroom.

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I emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later after peeing, having a quick shower and brushing my teeth. I wondered over to sit on the edge of the bed with the towel wrapped around me securely while I dried my hair off with a smaller one.
I felt the bed shift, suddenly a head appeared on my shoulder.

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"You smell good." He said trailing small kisses from my shoulder to my neck, nuzzling the tender flesh and continuing to trail kisses up to my ear. "So good." He whispered heavily in my ear, his breath warm causing me to shudder before he began nipping at my ear lobe.

I stopped drying my hair and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his stubbly skin against my damp flesh. He reached around me, pulling the small towel from my hands and threw it across the room before gripping the front of the towel I was wrapped in, turning me around and pulling me towards him until I was flush up against him. He grinned wickedly at me as he pulled the material from my body and dropped it onto the floor.

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Carefully he laid me back onto the cool sheets, hovering above me, looking into my eyes and smiling as he spoke.

"I love you. You're my Cherry Bomb."

I smiled up at him and reached out to lace my hand with his. I furrowed my brow as I noticed the abrasion on his hand.

"What happened?" I asked, taking hold of the injured hand with both of mine and caressing the wound.

"I cut it. It's nothing." I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the wound. He lightly palmed my face, stroking my own wound with his thumb.

"What are we like? Plasma Partners." He laughed before placing a light kiss on my injury followed by a harder kiss on my lips.
Before he could pull away, I pulled him back to me, giving him a passionate kiss.

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Our kisses began to get more hungry.
It was like I needed to feel his lips on mine, like I couldn't survive without them.

Within minutes I had discarded Punk's clothes and we were in the throws of love making.

He was so sweet and gentle, this wasn't the wild, animalistic sex that we usually engaged in.
This was the tender, sweet yet passionate love making that always reminded me how much I was loved.

To everyone else, Phil Brooks is CM Punk, the douche bag Straight Edge guy who is loud, obnoxious and rude. But to me, he is Phil – My beautiful, passionate, loving Punk, who can piss me off with one roll of the eyes but who can also make me smile without even saying a word. It's at times like these, when he shows this hidden side of him, when he's at his most vulnerable that I remember exactly why I do and always will love him.

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After we were finished, I lay curled up in his arms as he stroked my bare back.
I traced the tattoo on his chest with my finger tips, a small smile on my lips.
I had never been this happy before in my life.
It was as if I had been incomplete my whole life, like part of me was missing and I never realised it until I met Phil. And now... Now I was whole, he was my other half, we fitted together perfectly.
Phil had made my heart complete, and it belongs to him forever.
His name is tattooed on my heart.

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"...Don't forget that I won't forget you,
Wherever I go, What I do,
And should you slip my mind, I'll have this to remind me,
Your name is tattooed on my heart and I'll always be true..."

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Thanks for reading. You guys make me so happy! I love you all!

Roxxi =)