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fastermosherzkillkill · 22 days ago

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You Made Yourself A Bed At The Bottom Of The Blackest Hole, And You’ll Sleep ‘Till May And You’ll Say That You Don’t Wanna See The Sun Anymore

Summary: After Rhea’s match with Charlotte Flair at Wrestlemania 36, she makes a mistake that sets her back after years of sobriety. She turns to you for help and you realize that she’d been going through so much more than she let on.

Warnings: Graphic depictions of self harm, blood, a lot of crying

A/N: This is the continuation of my previous story “So Sweet With A Mean Streak, Nearly Brought Me To My Knees” So I recommend you read that one before reading this because the story won’t really make sense without the previous part. It’s also a lot shorter than the first one, the inability to finish works was really getting to me and I just wanted to finish this.

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“I’m Sorry”

Her words stabbed through your heart like the sharpest knife and you couldn’t stop yourself from immediately leaning forward and hugging her. Tears filled your eyes at the thought of Demi hurting herself again.

The first time you found out she had done it was when she confronted you about seeing your own cuts. You still remember that entire conversation, how she had cried over you hurting yourself, she held you like you were going to fall apart if she let go and she sobbed like you had never seen her before. Given, you hadn’t seen her cry much before that but it still broke your heart to hear her voice shake and crack when she told you

“I love you so much… You know that”

You got your brain to stop thinking about the past and start to remember that Demi still had open wounds on her arms and hands. You pulled away from the hug, looking Demi in the eyes. She stepped back, allowing you to come inside her house and she closed the door, the air immediately becoming warmer instead of the freezing cold air as the storm raged outside.

“Can I..?” You ask, gesturing to her arms and she turns on the light in the kitchen so you can see. She holds out her arms and you see the blood that had been dripping down them for who knows how long now. You tried your best not to cry as your head raged about how you could’ve prevented this if you had just stayed with her instead of being selfish and going home.

Rhea’s hands shook and you could feel the shame radiating off of her. You put on a tough face and tried your best to stay calm to keep Demi calm as well. She was staring wide-eyed at her arms, terrified of what she’d done.

“I… I didn’t really realize what I was doing until it got to this point…” She told you, her voice becoming high pitched in her attempt to not cry. You didn’t know what to say. You understood how she felt and your empathy and experience stopped you from feeling disappointed in her. If anything, you were more mad at Charlotte for causing all this. If she’d maybe used more actual wrestling moves instead of just targeting her knee the whole time, maybe Demi wouldn’t feel as ashamed.

“Dems… I don’t know… I don’t know what to think… O-Or say, or feel. I just… I don’t know” You say to her. She limps to her bathroom and retrieves a roll of gauze and medical tape. She washes her arms in the sink, just to clean up most of the blood, and then sits down with you on the couch.

You cover her wounds as best as you can and make sure the gauze are taped securely. After that, you and Demi just sit. Eyes fixed on your hands, of which hold hers.

“I’m not mad at you, Dems… If that’s what you’re thinking… I can’t be mad at you for something like this… It’s not right” You say. You look into her eyes but she doesn’t look back, seeming lost in her own mind, still staring at your hands intertwined with her own that haven’t stoped trembling.

You look at her again and see that she’s started crying again. You take her in your arms and place a hand on the back of her head. She wraps her arms around you and begins to sob, her head tucked into your chest. You want to tell her it’s okay, even though you both know it isn’t. You run your fingers through her hair, your heart not able to take the sound of her weeping.

Instead, you just sit there. You hold her until she falls quiet and you realize that she’s asleep. You lean back to lay down on the couch and fall asleep with Demi in your arms, deciding that the rest of this is something to deal with tomorrow. Until then, you just listen to the sounds of the rain outside and hope to be okay one day.

#rhea ripley #angst #angst with a happy ending #wrestling

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fastermosherzkillkill · 23 days ago

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So Sweet With A Mean Streak, Nearly Brought Me To My Knees

Summary: After Rhea’s devastating loss at Wrestlemania 36, she turns to you for help. Not only with her knee, but a mistake that causes her to lose her sober streak after more than two years.

Warnings: Rhea has a panic attack, she’s also in a lot of physical pain, graphic depictions of self harm, mental health issues, extremely negative self talk. (Let me know if I missed any)

A/N: I had been looking for a video of Rhea and Charlotte’s full match at Wrestlemania 36 but couldn’t find any on YouTube. But thankfully, I Googled it and Facebook had my back lol. Here’s the link to the video if you want to watch it:

(We’re also gonna pretend that Rhea’s (ex) partner, Kevin, wasn’t living with her at the time)

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You first saw her backstage. Her brows were furrowed and tears were running down her flushed cheeks. She was limping, her left knee having endured more abuse than ever before in her wrestling career. A seemingly perfect match with Charlotte Flair had turned sour and rotted by the current circumstance of the world. A global pandemic turning the tide on your hopes of getting the hell out of the performance center.

You had a match later, and you made sure you were in your gear early so you could watch Rhea’s match in its entirety. You saw all that Charlotte did to her knee. You heard Rhea’s screams of pain. You saw the fury in her eyes when she was forced to tap out after being put into the figure 8, and you heard her screaming at Charlotte to get off of her when she wouldn’t even after the bell rung.

As you stopped in front of Rhea, the only thing you could think to do to be helpful was hug her. You know it most likely would make her feel worse since she hated people touching her when she was in pain. You felt her tears hit the cold skin of your shoulder and you leaned your head further into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Rhea” You say. She doesn’t respond, only lets out a strangled, whisper-like, whimper as she tries not to cry loudly.

“I can’t believe myself… I’m Rhea Ripley, I don’t tap” she says, her voice breaking and her shame and guilt cracking away at your heart.

“I’m so stupid.. why would I even start with Charlotte” She says, her voice tired and breaking. She sobs. Once, quietly. But it still wracks her body. It still breaks your heart.

After a minute, when she’s calmed down just a little, you release your hug and look deeply into her eyes

“It’s okay… let’s get you to medical, alright?” You quietly tell her, and she nods. She places her left arm over your shoulders and you both slowly walk to the medical room. Once there, you guide her to a bed and help her lie down.

Al, the physical therapist you and Rhea had known since your early days at NXT UK, immediately came in to help since he had treated Rhea’s knee issues in the past and could probably give the most adequate care because of the rapport you had created over the years.

He started trying to test the range of motion on Rhea’s knee, which could barely even be moved without excruciating pain. He tried to straighten her leg, and he didn’t get very far without her having to contain her shouts of agony. You held her hand, your care for most Covid restrictions going out the window, and Rhea kept her free hand clenched in her hair.

Rhea yanked her knee away from Al’s hold on it, and quickly drew it to her chest. Her breathing was becoming labored and choppy. Tears streamed down her face again and she clenched her eyes shut. Al’s tried to coax her into letting him continue his examination, but it didn’t seem like she could hear anything. Rhea’s breathing got faster and shorter and suddenly you knew exactly what was happening.

You’d only seen Rhea have a panic attack twice before. One time before your first Mae Young Classic together in 2018, and once before her first match defending her NXT UK Women’s Championship. You knew the signs well enough to know how to stop a panic attack before it went full fledged and you wouldn’t be able to communicate with her at all.

You sat directly in front of Rhea, but Al tried to reach out and touch her shoulder to get her attention. You grabbed his wrist and quietly said “Don’t” knowing that touching her would only overwhelm her more. You quietly called her name, trying to see where her head was at. You saw her eyes look to you but she didn’t turn her head. You decided that was good enough and continued with your attempt to help her out of her panicked state.

“Rhea, it’s okay… You know where you are, right? We’re at the Performance Center, in Orlando, remember? It’s okay… I’m right here” You said as calmly as you could and tried to set your best example of calm breathing even though you were anything but calm. Rhea tried her best to follow your breathing and eventually got herself to calm down enough to let Al help her.

When Al got done trying his best to examine her knee, he said “Right now, your knee is still pretty inflamed, so I’d say take it easy, keep a brace on as much as you can, and I hate to say it but, I’m gonna keep you on crutches for a few weeks. To make sure nothing is fractured or torn, I want you to try and get an appointment for MRI imaging, just to be safe.”

Rhea sighed quietly but took the brace and pair of crutches when Al handed them to her. A set tech leaned into the medical room and let you know that your match was next. You walked Rhea out to the hallway and parted ways, you walked out to the Gorilla, and Rhea making her way to the locker room.

Rhea’s POV:

I made my way to the locker room and struggled to open the door, thankfully Becky Lynch was in there and she held the door open for me. “God this is so embarrassing” I thought to myself.

“Thanks Becky” I said, only now realizing how gravely my voice had became from all the screaming I’d done in the past hour and a half.

“No Problem… Are you alright?” Becky asked, her voice full of knowing concern. She’d always been like the older sister in the locker room, looking out for not just the “new people” but every woman in general. I’d always appreciated her for that.

“Eh, I’ll probably be fine. Al said I should probably get an MRI or something on my knee but I don’t know if I’ll ever actually get to scheduling an appointment” I said back, grabbing my shower stuff from my locker. I couldn’t wait to get all the makeup off my skin, it felt like my entire face was dipped in the thickest oil you can imagine.

Becky left the locker room without saying anything else, I assumed she didn’t know what to say, since my match was so shitty, and Becky tended to be brutally honest so she wouldn’t say “Good job on your match!” When I obviously didn’t do a good job since I didn’t retain my title when it was the first time NXT had been represented at Wrestlemania.

I finished my shower and got out just in time to see Y/N’s match start on the TV in the locker room and I was hoping and praying that she would win. I know she will, she is an incredible wrestler and has such quick thinking that there’s no way she can’t win.

Just as I got finished getting more comfortable clothes on and putting on my knee brace, Y/N won her match and I was almost jumping up and down ecstatic.

Once she came backstage, I walked out of the locker room and found her walking directly towards me. Once she got close enough, I hugged her as tight as I could.

“I’m so proud of you” I said excitedly. It was hard to restrain myself cause I knew that if I were to jump at all even if in joy, I would fuck up my knee even more and I don’t want that.

I let Y/N shower and then we both left the Performance Center together. We both made it to our cars just as a giant rainstorm had started and we also realized how dark it had already gotten outside. We parted ways, having to go home and take yet another Covid test. I feel kinda bad for Y/N since she lives almost an hour away from Orlando, all the way in Oak Hill.

Y/N’s win took my mind off of my own title loss for about the time it took me to drive home, but once I got to my house and tried to go to bed at a perhaps reasonable hour, all my thoughts were consumed by the entire match replaying in my head. The shame came over me like a rip current inside the red and yellow flags and I couldn’t catch myself before the tears grew and already overflowed my eyes. Soon as I knew it, I was sobbing, scratching at my hands and arms to try and provide at least a little bit of comfort even if my old habits died hard.

My thoughts were overcome with memories of the wounds I inflicted on myself when I was a teenager. The urge kept growing and I couldn’t stop thinking about the places I could do it where it would be easy to hide. I can’t keep my brain under control and I can’t think straight.

The scratch wounds on my hands and arms continue to bleed more as I keep scratching deeper and deeper into my skin. And suddenly it all breaks. I snap out of whatever phase I was in and I actually realize what I’m doing.

I look at my arms.

These are definitely going to scar.

I’m ruined.

Regal’s gonna kill me.

No forget about him, Y/N is going to kill me.

We swore off of hurting ourselves in year 11.

But she said whenever I need help that I can call her.

Before I even think twice about it, my thumb is hovering over the dial button on her contact. I press call. It rings three times. She picks up.

“Demi?” She says. She sounds tired. Shit this was a mistake. I try to clear my throat but my voice continues to shake.

“Uhm, Y/N… I… I need your help…” I say. God I sound fucking stupid. I need some ibuprofen as well. Not only are the open wounds on my arms hurting but the rest of my body, especially my knee, hurts like hell.

“Okay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” She asks. This isn’t a big deal, why the fuck am I even calling her?

“I-um… I kind of… I don’t know how to describe it… I scratched my arms and my hands really badly” I say. I sound so dumb. What’s wrong with me? My free hand goes to my hair yet again and I pull the ever loving hell out of it, a concerningly big amount of my hair coming out

“O-Okay, I’m-I’m gonna come over Demi, alright?” She says. God why did I have to call her? I should’ve just dealt with this on my own.

“Okay… I… I don’t know if I can be alone right now anyway” I say back, my breath coming to me heavy as the regret starts to set in. I haven’t done anything like this to myself in over two years, why would I tell someone about it when I break that streak? Why would I disappoint and burden yet another person?

Y/N’s POV:

It took a good 55 minutes for me to get there, which is shorter than if I were to go during the day. I drove as fast as I could while also trying not the spin off the road in the pouring rain. I cursed myself for going all the way home and not offering to stay with Demi when I knew that her guilt and embarrassment was eating her alive.

I finally got to her house and ran to her front door, thankful for the overhang that protected me from the freezing cold rain. I knocked on her door and about 15 seconds later, she was there, opening the door and immediately I saw her red eyes and tear stained cheeks. I looked to her hands and blood had already dried underneath her fingernails. She was shaking and in a crackly and shame-filled whisper, she said only two words

“I’m sorry”

(To be continued…)

#rhea ripley #wrestling #wrestlemania #angst #fem reader

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