500 WoL: What Type? 1/1 (Punk/Lita) PG-13
Feb. 2nd, 2010 08:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
awritinglilypeaTitle: What Type?
Fandom: Wrestling
Pairing: Punk/Lita
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Yes.
Genre: Romantifluff
Prompt: 002: "No way...never going to happen" // TABLE
Summary: Amy doesn't know where he comes up with this stuff, but sometimes Punk can be unerringly wonderful and childish all at the same time. It kind of drives her crazy. In the best possible way.
Warnings: There are no warnings. Well unless you hate fluff. In which case you probably also hate kittens.
Word Count: 500
“No way...never going to happen,” it wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words of course.
The first time she’d heard them they’d come from her own lips, and they’d been regarding her career as a WWE Diva, THE WWE diva some would say. She’d been asked if she was going to be retiring soon.
Back then she’d had no interest in retiring, no interest in leaving a life behind she’d thrown herself so enthusiastically into.
A broken neck, and a horrible personal mistake later and she was eating her words.
She knew there were people who were happy she’d had to.
“So you’re telling me what exactly?” Amy asked her lover, turning to look at him, a dark lock of his hair falling into her face, ghosting along her skin.
Punk smiled down at her, and it was a smile she only got to see.
There was no arrogance there, no sense of being mocked. No sarcasm.
He was happy with her, and it filled her insides with warmth.
“I’m telling you we’re not breaking up,” he informed her in an exasperated tone, with an exaggerated eye roll.
Amy smiled at him, pushing his hair out of her face she leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips, enjoying how dry his were and the slight brush of metal against her bottom lip as he reciprocated.
The two of them kissed for a while, Amy because the warm glide of his lips along hers was impossible to resist and Punk because well, in the end he was a man and wasn’t going to resist the lure of a curvy body pressed against his.
“So what do you say?” he asked her when he pulled back, huffing as more of his hair fell out of its ponytail.
Amy shrugged her shoulders as he moved around, getting settled next to her and moved accordingly into his arms when they opened.
He was always so warm.
She never felt chilled with him.
“I thought we weren’t the marrying type,” she said finally trying to figure out the meaning behind his words and feeling like she missed something when he laughed softly.
Punk pressed his lips against hers briefly, just once and shook his head.
“You’re not getting it, we AREN’T marrying people,” he informed her, resisting the urge to press his index finger against the tip of her nose just because he knew she hated it.
Because apparently on the inside, just like every other man, he was five.
Amy sighed, tucking one cool hand inside his t-shirt and grinning when he jumped. It was a small triumph, one she would take.
“Okay so we’re not marrying people,” she said softly in a confused tone.
“Right,” Punk confirmed with a nod of his head.
“But we’re not gonna break up,” she reiterated.
“Exactly.”
“So what kind of people are we?” Amy asked him, torn between amused and frustrated.
“I would think it’s obvious. Forever type of people.”
“Oh...okay.”
Fandom: Wrestling
Pairing: Punk/Lita
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Yes.
Genre: Romantifluff
Prompt: 002: "No way...never going to happen" // TABLE
Summary: Amy doesn't know where he comes up with this stuff, but sometimes Punk can be unerringly wonderful and childish all at the same time. It kind of drives her crazy. In the best possible way.
Warnings: There are no warnings. Well unless you hate fluff. In which case you probably also hate kittens.
Word Count: 500
“No way...never going to happen,” it wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words of course.
The first time she’d heard them they’d come from her own lips, and they’d been regarding her career as a WWE Diva, THE WWE diva some would say. She’d been asked if she was going to be retiring soon.
Back then she’d had no interest in retiring, no interest in leaving a life behind she’d thrown herself so enthusiastically into.
A broken neck, and a horrible personal mistake later and she was eating her words.
She knew there were people who were happy she’d had to.
“So you’re telling me what exactly?” Amy asked her lover, turning to look at him, a dark lock of his hair falling into her face, ghosting along her skin.
Punk smiled down at her, and it was a smile she only got to see.
There was no arrogance there, no sense of being mocked. No sarcasm.
He was happy with her, and it filled her insides with warmth.
“I’m telling you we’re not breaking up,” he informed her in an exasperated tone, with an exaggerated eye roll.
Amy smiled at him, pushing his hair out of her face she leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips, enjoying how dry his were and the slight brush of metal against her bottom lip as he reciprocated.
The two of them kissed for a while, Amy because the warm glide of his lips along hers was impossible to resist and Punk because well, in the end he was a man and wasn’t going to resist the lure of a curvy body pressed against his.
“So what do you say?” he asked her when he pulled back, huffing as more of his hair fell out of its ponytail.
Amy shrugged her shoulders as he moved around, getting settled next to her and moved accordingly into his arms when they opened.
He was always so warm.
She never felt chilled with him.
“I thought we weren’t the marrying type,” she said finally trying to figure out the meaning behind his words and feeling like she missed something when he laughed softly.
Punk pressed his lips against hers briefly, just once and shook his head.
“You’re not getting it, we AREN’T marrying people,” he informed her, resisting the urge to press his index finger against the tip of her nose just because he knew she hated it.
Because apparently on the inside, just like every other man, he was five.
Amy sighed, tucking one cool hand inside his t-shirt and grinning when he jumped. It was a small triumph, one she would take.
“Okay so we’re not marrying people,” she said softly in a confused tone.
“Right,” Punk confirmed with a nod of his head.
“But we’re not gonna break up,” she reiterated.
“Exactly.”
“So what kind of people are we?” Amy asked him, torn between amused and frustrated.
“I would think it’s obvious. Forever type of people.”
“Oh...okay.”
