Title: Dagger Through a Dream

Rating: Rated R for angst, language, and sexual content. no longer accepts NC-17 rated stories, so I toned it down, but it's an R, so if you don't like that, don't read it.

Author's Note: This fic is based around the idea that wrestling is not scripted. This isn't too important, though. The characters belong to the WWE; I'm just borrowing them for a while. I'm not making any money off of this, so no harm done. Please don't sue me. I hope you enjoy the story, and feel free to leave any comments you may have. Thanks!


Her senses slightly blurred, Stephanie became aware of someone lying next to her, gently stroking her hair. Pausing for a moment to look at him, it slowly began to register in the back of her mind that it was Chris Jericho next to her. And somehow that seemed right. She looked into his eyes, and with one swift movement he was on top of her. Kissing her. What?

Her lips parted slightly as the feeling that somehow this was wrong was shoved underneath the rest of the clutter scattered around her mind. What was going on? Did she really even care?

Chris' hands moved toward her back and stroked her with a sense of protectiveness. His hands slid down lower, and Stephanie moaned into his mouth. God, it all felt so good, and yet so, so wrong... Who even cares?

Chris needed no more encouragement and pulled away from Stephanie just long enough to remove both of their shirts before immediately connecting again. Their connection burned strongly in her head, consuming her completely. There was no battle, no struggle for dominance, only pure, unrelenting bliss.

Stephanie removed her hands from the back of Chris' neck and slid them down his chiseled chest and pushed him into a lying position. Chris rolled her over so that he was on top of her as he unclasped her bra. He continued his erotic torture as Stephanie felt fire course through her entire being. Heaven. There could be nothing better.

After several minutes of the incredible torture Chris was putting her through, Stephanie pushed him off of her and practically scrambled to get the rest of both of their clothes off, Chris helping her all along the way.

Before Chris could take charge again, Stephanie decided to take control of the situation a bit. She then submitted Chris to the same bliss that Stephanie had been subjected to moments before.

"Steph..." he groaned.

She silenced him with her eyes and continued exploring, teasing, tasting. When several minutes had passed, Chris pushed Stephanie off of him before he came. He flipped her over on her back and positioned himself at her entrance, and he stayed there for a moment.

"You ready?"

"Yes...Chris, please..."

Stephanie shot out of her bed like a bat let out of hell. She was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Sweat covered her entire body, and she rubbed her eyes.

"What the hell?"

Then Stephanie remembered her dream.

"WHAT?!?!" she screeched.

She couldn't have, she wouldn't have...but she did. She had an erotic dream about CHRIS JERICHO. No, wait, scratch that. It was Chris Jericho, that would make it a nightmare. She quickly surveyed the room, just to appease her mind with the fact that she was definitely alone. Stephanie realized that she had a headache, and she rubbed her head in a hopeless attempt to relieve the pain.

"Why would I dream that?"

Stephanie couldn't figure it out, but she knew it couldn't POSSIBLY have anything to do with her inwardly wanting him or something. That notion was absolutely absurd. Besides, that would be too obvious, and dreams aren't ever supposed to be what they seem.

Yet, somehow, even with that in mind, Stephanie was still troubled. She had felt so...needed in her dream, not to mention the feeling of being safe running through her when she was wrapped in Chris' arms. She would have to think about this in the morning, when she had some more sleep. She would have time for a Freudian analysis then, but not now. She needed her sleep.

"If I had any sense, I just wouldn't think about it at all and forget about it," Stephanie thought to herself as she sunk into the soft bed. But, Stephanie knew that her normal common sense would escape her, and that she would indeed think about it.