WWE One-Shots (Requests are Closed!)

Rhea Ripley x OC Smut Request

This fabulous request was requested by the lovely SuccubusDelinquent , I hope you like it! This will contain smut and girl on girl action along with the occasional cuss word, so be advised. This is also my first time writing for Rhea Ripley, so I apologize profusely if she is out of character in any way as I write her! Now, imma shut up, and let's get to the story!

Razor's POV

Sometimes I hated being the shortest superstar in the NXT roster. Granted, it helped me be able to squeeze through some of the stars' hands I was wrestling, but come on! I was 5'2" and couldn't even get to the counter in my home without a stool, let alone some of the things WWE puts in my tour bus! Growling as I tried to get to my top bunk without steps, I muttered, "Vince could've put something here for me to use as a stool to climb into my fucking bunk!"

Before I get too far into the story, allow me to introduce myself so you know me better, reader. Hello! My name is Razor and I don't give a flying fuck what you think of my name! It's unique and original and I'm an original person, so deal with it, suckers! Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I'll give you a bit of a visual picture of what I look like so you're not sitting ducks wondering what I wear on a daily basis and why I have problems with every single fucking tour bus Vince puts me in. I'm 5'2" tall without heels and am a stick with boobs, if you'll pardon the crass language. I had white hair that I've never dyed any color in my life and hazel eyes; I guess you could say I looked like a female Caspar the friendly ghost. However, the only way I wasn't like Caspar was I dressed like Paige did but on steroids; I had the studs in my leather jackets, ripped jeans, Doc Martins, and the whole rocker aesthetic to a T. But my clothes and figure weren't the issue with the bus and matches. The big issue was my height, and that's where you find me today, readers. Let's begin the story of how I made out with one of the sexiest women in NXT, Rhea Ripley.

I growled to myself when I couldn't get my drink from my bus and decided that I'd muster up the courage to go to catering and get a drink there. I didn't normally go to catering if I could help it due to not wanting to ask anyone for help, but whenever I did have to go to catering, I made sure no one was there. When I got to the entrance for catering about fifteen minutes before my match, I heard humans talking and muttered, "Of course, the one time I want to get something to eat before I face Bailey, there's people in catering. Fantastic."

"What's fantastic?" someone asked behind me while I stared at the door, my feet gluing themselves in place and not wanting to move. I figured out who was talking to me without looking at them, but there was a minuscule part of me that wanted to turn around and confirm my suspicions. The voice asked again, "Are you alright, Razor? Do you want me to go tell Doc you can't wrestle tonight?"

I growled, "No, Rhea, I don't need your help; I'm fine. Now, get out of my way before I kick you in your ovaries." I'd turned to face Rhea as I spoke and felt my heart skip a beat at meeting her gorgeous eyes, but I kept it down. I didn't need her telling Doc I couldn't wrestle when I definitely could, and I also didn't want her to play with my heart. When she didn't move, I looked up at her and asked, "May I help you? Or are you going to block my way to the gorilla?" My match was going to start in probably twenty-five minutes, and I was clear on the other side of the arena.

She answered, "Look, I know you don't like it when others help you out, but I truly want to help you in the ring. Bailey's a tough opponent, and I'm not saying you'll lose against her because you won't. What I am saying is that I don't want to see you get hurt in the ring." I resisted the urge to growl when she hinted at me getting hurt in the ring and Rhea added, "And I want to take you out for drinks afterward, if you'd be alright with that."