Keep Lying
Kenna was beginning to tap colour onto her lips when she thought she saw the tail end of a man in black uniform. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed against it, debating whether or not running after the Shield men was a life she wanted to live— and in the end, ended up finishing the rest of her makeup and packing everything else back into the bag. If she needed The Shield, they would come running. If they needed her, they knew how to contact her.
Hunter had once told her when she was a teenager that being a woman in a man's world was like being a kite in a hurricane. Back then, she'd laughed him off and told him that it was just a much a woman's world… because she hadn't entirely understood what he'd been trying to say.
In this moment, now, with a bad choice looming over her head and the consequences of it twisting her mind at every turn, she understood exactly what it meant.
She felt like a paper-thin kite in a category five hurricane being ripped apart and discarded, only for it to happen all over again the next day. Her head was a constant battle of whether it was worth it or not, and each day, Kenna would have to remind herself that it was too late not to sleep in her bed now that she'd made it.
It was an impossibly difficult situation.
But, instead of mentally torturing herself, Kenna pushed her hair back off her face and took a deep breath, tried to calm her body down to a level she could control.
SmackDown tonight was for one thing and one thing only; to deliver a message. A message to the world, to the locker room, but more importantly a message to Stephanie McMahon, and Kenna knew that she'd be pushing the boundaries before she even opened her mouth.
The hallways were beginning to fill with life, and occasionally, she'd catch someone staring oddly in her direction. But too many people meant that the show was fast approaching, and she intended to kick it off— so she gathered the rest of her belongings and pushed away from the production box, chin inclined as she moved past runners and film crews.
And then a large hand was wrapping around the top of her arm, tugging her in a completely different direction than she needed to.
"What—"
Gracelessly, Kenna stumbled into an empty room, spinning when she heard the door close, and was ready to launch herself back— and then she saw the way Roman's eyes were burning.
His hair was falling wet and heavy across his shoulders and there were a couple of strands hanging over his left eye, and he was already dressed in his ring gear but fuck, did she want to strip him out of it. His face was set like stone and had she not seen the fire in his eyes, she would have thought he was mad.
Except she'd seen that fire in his eyes before.
"Roman…"
A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "Somethin' 'bout you makes me think you're a dangerous kinda woman," he said lowly. "Leave me in your hotel room, have another man tell me your choices because I misread the situation, and then look at me like you want me to fuck you on the spot."
She couldn't reply to him. The tension rolling off of Roman was overwhelming, and he wasn't even standing near her.
The smirk on Roman's face twisted dangerously and his eyes darkened, and then he was stalking towards her. Kenna didn't realise she'd been retreating until her back hit the wall. The breath flew from her lungs in a gasp as Roman's hands reached her, pulling her against his body, and she arched back just as his mouth claimed hers.
He didn't kiss her like there were strings attached.
He was hungry and dominant and overpowering, pushing his tongue past her lips, the taste of berry intoxicating and making her head spin. His hands were so large they almost spanned the entirety of her ribcage, and Kenna felt like a different kind of small then, felt fragile and vulnerable.
"I thought you said you needed to talk," she tried to say against his mouth, pulling back a little, but the new angle had Roman chasing her and pushing her back against the wall.
Something about his movements was desperate. The way he was clutching at her was like he was trying to keep her not only in this moment but in a different kind of way, too, and Kenna felt it like led weight in her blood when she realised that he probably thought this was the only way he could convince her to stay with him.
She was pushing against his chest then, turning her head away, anything to get him to stop and just talk to her, but when his mouth locked on her neck, Kenna turned to putty in his hands.
It was like her eyes rolled back into her head and her entire body went slack. Roman's efforts went into holding her upright against the wall, and the hands that had been pushing at his chest were now gripping his vest for support, because he was doing this thing with his teeth and tongue— she was almost panting. Her breath was coming heavy through parted lips and washing against his arms, and if he couldn't hear her reaction, he could definitely feel it.
He knew he was doing something right, because in the next moment, one of his hands had dropped to the zip of her jeans, fingers brushing against the material until they curled between her thighs.
"Roman, Roman, Roman, Roman," Kenna rushed out quietly, squirming under his touch almost frantically to try and stop him. "We can't do this here, I can't— I have to go—"
"Shh…" he trailed off against her neck. Nothing in his demeanour told Kenna that he would stop, but his movements for the moment had. "We can, we will. S'long as you ain't screaming, we'll be fine."
He inclined his palm against her jeans and curled his fingers just the slightest, flexed his arm until he was supporting most of her weight in the one hand, and an almost inhuman noise sounded at the back of Kenna's throat at the pressure pushing her down against him, and his mouth hovered above hers in such a way he pulled the sound into his own lungs.
But her mind still wouldn't shut down. "We— we— you needed to talk."
"Later," he said, and Kenna gazed at him through half-lidded eyes for a moment before flinging both arms around his neck and tangling her fingers through his soaking hair.
The length of her body curled up into him, lips pressing messy against his in an open-mouthed kiss, and it wasn't sensual in the slightest, but full of passion and burning desire they both felt. Roman's hands were moving again, but this time popping the button of her jeans and pushing between the material and her skin, and Kenna sighed around his name when his calloused fingers sunk between her burning thighs.
There was a finger at her clit, the others stroking her softly, and Kenna's moans became little pleas when he rubbed against her faster, almost to the extent of her begging into the skin of his neck.
"C'mon, baby girl," Roman growled into her ear, and she was gone.
Her entire body felt like it collapsed in on itself. Thighs flexing, body curving around Roman's arm, her hot breath keeping the damp skin at his neck wet, and the white hot heat of the orgasm shot from her core to the tips of her toes. Silence echoed around them both as he kept at his movements to make her climax as long as possible, but as soon as she sucked in a shuddery breath, he stopped completely.
Kenna was clutching at him like a lifeline, the nails on one hand digging into the skin of his arm, nails on the other bitting into the bare skin of his back.
Despite her lack of breath, she was still the first to speak. "You gonna—" Kenna broke off and sucked another breath in, gazed up at Roman and motioned to the obvious tent in his black pants, and she really didn't have time to help him.
"Tonight." Roman said, and the tone in his voice was like he was making a promise to her. "I've got a room to myself."
An involuntary shudder moved down Kenna's spine at the thought of that, and she didn't miss the way another smirk was beginning to pull the corners of his mouth up.
—
She stood in the centre of the ring, looking around the arena like she was both impressed and disappointed at the same time. Alone, holding a microphone in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other, Kenna had a lot to get off of her chest. SmackDown tag-team oriented and usually started off with such a match— not tonight. Tonight, she was holding SmackDown hostage.
They'd run a replay of Kane's chokeslam more than a few times during the rest of RAW, and they'd run it just before she came out, so there was no doubt in her mind that everyone knew exactly what she was out here for.
"Imagine my surprise, Monday night on RAW, when Kane chokeslams me," Kenna started slowly, gazing around at the different faces staring back at her. "I've won my first match in the WWE against a great competitor, proven to my brother and the Authority that I'm not messing around, proven to The Shield that I'm worthy of their time, and then eat a chokeslam for my efforts. Imagine my surprise when in a company that prides itself on being anti-violence against women, I almost get put through the canvas so a message can be delivered. Imagine my surprise when I come into work this afternoon to the news that not only has Kane gone unpunished, he's been given a gift for his hard work— a bonus large enough to buy him a new car."
Kenna spun to face the titantron, held the sledgehammer out before her so that it was pointing to the gorilla, and tried to fight the smile on her face with the boos pouring down around her; she had the audience in the palm of her hand.
"I came out here with one thing in mind— revenge. Because, and I'm not sure if you remember this Kane, a week ago on SmackDown, I told you that if you ever touched me again, I'd kick your nose through the back of your head. Not only did you lay your hands on me on RAW, you chokeslammed me." Kenna tilted her head as a humourless smile pulled at her lips. "In case you didn't quite understand that, I'll just repeat it; Kane, you chokeslammed me. Let's ignore the fact that I could have very easily gotten myself out of that situation; I just didn't think you had it in you. I didn't think you were that much of Stephanie McMahon's bitch that you'd actually do absolutely everything she asked of you— because we both know that you'd never lay a finger on me if you weren't told to."
Kenna shook her head. "You've got Stephanie McMahon in one ear and Triple H in the other, but you listened to the wrong Authority leader. Stephanie might've given you that bonus and told you that all is well, but my brother is The Game and you've hurt his little sister— soon enough, Mummy and Daddy are gonna be fighting and little lapdog Kane is gonna have to choose a side."
She dropped the sledgehammer back to the ground, cocked her hip out to the side. "Kane, I know you're out there. See, if there's one thing I learnt from my arrogant, power hungry, screw up of a brother, it's how to get even. So, I've gone ahead and taken the liberty of setting your bonus on fire. You want the money? Come out and get it. I'll cash you out a new cheque."
It didn't take long before Kane's theme was blaring through the arena. Kenna raised her chin, her eyes suddenly exuding a chill that they hadn't before, and watched closely as the big red monster moved to stand a top of the ramp.
But as soon as his music had finished, another theme started— and it wasn't The Shield's.
Moving so that they flanked Kane on either side, Kenna found herself glaring at Billy Gun and Jesse James, severely outnumbered and desperately searching for an escape.
They moved like a faction that had been together for years. The three men sauntered down the ramp and pushed themselves into the ring, and Kenna stood firm in the centre with the sledgehammer thrown across her shoulder, the weapon more of a warning than a tool of destruction, but her eyes weren't cold anymore— she'd bit off more than she could chew and it was beginning to show.
"I don't really care about the money," Kane spoke into his own microphone, "and I don't really care about the fact that I chokeslammed you Monday night on RAW… but if you call me a bitch one more time, The Shield won't be picking you up from the canvas— they'll be picking you up from the hospital."
Kenna changed her grip on the sledgehammer and let it fall heavy to mat in a threat, her eyes narrowing. "Try it."
Kane didn't have the chance.
The heavy riff of The Shield's entrance music stopped anything else he was about to do, and Kenna found a satisfied smile forming across her face. She didn't turn from the men in front of her to watch the uniformed Shield walk through the crowd, but watched from the corner of her eyes as they finally made it ringside.
Roman was beside her very quickly, Dean and Seth slightly behind them, and she could feel the tension rolling off of him.
"Try it, Kane," Kenna repeated into the microphone. "Put me in the hospital. See where it gets you. I don't need to wrestle men to prove that I'm the best thing going around, but you'll learn very quickly that if you make an enemy out of me, I'll be the worst thing you've ever laid your eyes on."
She threw the microphone over her shoulder and the thud echoed around the arena, but Kane was glaring at her with a fire in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. Roman squared his shoulders beside her and she watched as Kane's eyes flickered between them suggestively, like he knew everything she didn't want him to know, like he had a weapon she'd never be able to counter, and her mouth pursed angrily. He wouldn't dare.
He didn't.
Instead, Kane turned his back and slipped from the ring, the New Age Outlaws following suit, and the crowd was booing so intensely that Kenna felt it in her bones.
But Kenna wasn't here to play nice.
She turned her head to Roman, dropped the microphone so only he and the cameras could hear her. "I think it's time to send a message of our own."
Ambrose, who was standing slightly behind him, smiled like he'd been given everything he could ever ask for… and then The Shield was bolting from the ring and laying a beating so heavy on Kane, Gunn and James that their message was clear— they fought for Kenna Swan. And Kenna was staring down at the war she'd helped create with a curve at her mouth, calculating eyes observing the unit she was preparing to shatter.
They had no fucking idea.
chapter title is after 'Keep Lying' by Donna Missal, which i feel fits this entire story up until now perfectly. i don't really like how this chapter went at the end, but there's been developments; Kenna's being protected by The Shield, and she's called the Authority out- will the cracks start to show in The Authority as well as The Shield?
next, Kenna runs into some old friends and she gets another visit from some Shield boys... what oh what is happening?!
to Raquel the Writer (oh my lord, that's good, right?! first time you've been speechless with my writing!) and quinzel harley (tbh, those figures were based off of what Trips earns... I'm planning on building something between Kenna and all the boys, which I think you'll like :) also, your wish is my command with the sexy time? enjoy!), thank you so much for your support and reviews, let me know what you think of this chapter. to new readers/followers, don't be afraid to drop a line! i don't bite (much)!
much love xx