The Cage | Chuckle Sandwich MMA!au
Chapter 1
✎Blurb: Having built a reputation for themselves by dominating the ring and defeating opponent after opponent, Y/n Hunter is well known in the sports of Mixed Martial Arts. Charlie fresh out of college is finally joining The Octave in pursuit of his dreams; joining the MMA Championships. With the help of Schlatt, their team manager, and Ted, Charlie’s old coach, will Hunter be able to train Charlie to win his Championships and become Breakthrough Fighter of the Year or will bad blood from the past knock the team out of the ring before Charlie even has a chance to put his hands up.
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❄︎Chapter: 1/12 •*⁀➷ master list
❄︎Word Count: +1.9k
❄︎Fandom: Chuckle Sandwich Podcast
❄︎Pairing: Chuckle Sandwich x gn!reader, single separate romantic chapter for each
❄︎Age Profile: Y/n Hunter[Mid20s], Charlie[Early20s], Schlatt & Ted[Early30s]
❄︎Genre: mma!au, sports!au
⚠︎ Warnings: Swearing, Conflict, Injury
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The Cage. Its octagonal shape goes by many other names, but a cage is what it was. Where fighters of all expertise and practices go to truly test their strength, speed, and agility. Once you’re in the cage and the rattling fence gate is shut behind you, your only objective is to be the last one standing.
If you let The Cage get under your skin with even a sliver of fear, you can pretty much forget trying to fight in it. Charlie’s first memory of being locked in the eight walls was smeared with his own blood and sweat. And though Charlie was scared, he couldn’t back down.
.
.
.
“Mr. Schlatt, I expected this place to look more… beat up, of course, from what you told me.”
A giant sign board spelled out ‘The Octave’ in bright red text on the center of a dark wooden board that wrapped around the entrance and frame of the building.
“Oh Hunter, you underestimate me.” Schlatt opened the door for you to enter first. From the outside, this three-story corner building looked like nothing more than like the corporate buildings all over Boston. Although from the inside, once you make past the reception desks, one can quickly notice what sets this building apart from the rest. The walls were painted the cleanest shade of white and two opposite walls were lined with mirrors. Sections of the mirror broke for the windows to see through. Along the walls, organized spaciously were various training materials and equipment. There were racks of weights and for those weights were weight training machines. Treadmills were lined beside each other in front of the large windows. Aside from the locker rooms that were connected to the main training area, there were shelves for the trainers to store their belongings and benches to rest on after a successful workout. Hanging from the brightly lit ceiling were various kinds of punching bags all paced out to avoid any hindrance from each other. This place looked nothing like the old martial arts studio that you saw pictures of. “It wasn’t easy revamping this old thing, but I have my ways. And come on, we’re well-acquainted now, drop the formalities and just call me Schlatt.”
“Formalities?” You looked over your shoulder at him, “Says the man wearing a suit in a training gym.”
“Well,” He sheepishly looked down at his handsome navy blue suit before giving you a smug look, “I had to wear this ol’ thing to give a good first impression. What would you think if I showed up in sweats to pick you up from the airport.”
“Schlatt,” You turned, “I’m in sweats.”
“Anyways,” He smirked, walking past you “Let me introduce you to the team.” The two of you walked over to who you recognized as Charlie, standing up from one of the side benches. You had received his profile prior to arriving in Boston. “First we have-” You looked at Charlie, who stood up and looked back at you with an anticipating smile, readying his hand to greet you “-ME!” Both you and Charlie snapped your heads back at Schlatt, who had his thumbs pointing towards himself. “The biggest man here! As the team manager, I will be running this whole show. You wanna organize dates, and venues, arrange equipment, or work on a public profile, you talk to me.” This man had an aura of concrete confidence emitting from him, his above six feet tall stature and wide-shouldered build only added to that. “I’ve got connections everywhere and whatever you need, I’ll find the man for the job.”
You nod your head slowly at him, “I don’t doubt you.” You were undeniably impressed with the confidence and with how he seemed to be running The Octave. But you weren’t going to let him know that, should his head get any bigger.
“I’ll never give you the chance!” Schlatt turned to stand next to Charlie, “And this, you may already recognize, is Charlie, your new trainee.”
Caught off guard, Charlie straighten up and nervously chuckled at himself. Raising his all-of-a-sudden-sweaty hand to shake yours, he said “Hi, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” You smiled at him. Charlie may be an MMA fighter in training, but from his face, he looked more like a computer technician who would have taught coding to the students in your university. The nerdy glasses didn’t help either.
“I look forward to working with you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Wha..what?” Jittery, he rubbed the back of his neck, “I mean…I haven’t really done anything much noteworthy-”
Schlatt grabbed Charlie’s shoulders and gave them a strong shake, “The boxing skills this young man has are unmatched for his age. Undefeated throughout his high school and college sports program. Amongst the other youngbloods here, he’s only lost once, and that too by a draw.”
“Impressive! I’ve read that endurance is your strong suit and that for some time you were on the swimming team.” You added. From the profile that you received, Charlie was an all-rounder, well-practiced, and almost above average in all terms of skill. He was a good and quick learner and needed polishing in only a few existing skills. He’s been learning how to box from a very young age you learned. The main overlapping trait between boxing and MMA is that you can strike your opponent by punching them, but MMA allows a multitude of ways to defeat the other person in the ring. MMA is a demanding sport, the shift from boxing will be a lot of blood and sweat and you were determined to train Charlie to be the best of the best.
“I –yeah, I did swimming for only a while,” Charlie started, “Well, I mean I guess I try-”
“He’s pretty much golden.” A new voice interrupted.
The voice came from behind you. Strutting towards you, approached a man standing just as tall as Schlatt, maybe even taller. He too was built wide from the shoulders and looked strong enough to easily carry Charlie on his back. He smiled at you and you would have smiled back at him but… it was fake. The grin tightly spread across his lips felt forced. His smile did not reach to crinkle his eyes. An unwelcoming tension grew with each step he took towards you. You tried to not fiddle with the loose strap on your duffle bag that hung from your shoulder.
He stopped right before you, and you felt like he was holding back the urge to tower over you. “You must be the new coach.” He held out his hand.
You looked at his hand for a moment before taking it in yours and shaking it. “Yes, I am. And you are?”
“Theodore.” You let go of his hand, “But I usually just go by Ted. I’m Charlie’s boxing coach. Well, old coach now.”
You furrowed your brows but nodded, “Y/n Hunter. But I just go by Hunter.”
Ted stared at you – almost glaring menacingly.
A beat passed.
And you weren’t going to be the first to break it.
Another beat passed.
He looked you down and then back up.
“Trying to scare the newbie?” Schlatt pipped in, leaning sideways towards Ted.
“No, no, of course not.” Ted chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Just really excited to meet you.”
“Um,” C’mon man, don’t do this. Schlatt seemed to feel the tension in the air and he wanted nothing more than to stop whatever the hell was about to go down. He turned to you “We’ve…Uh – had quite a few people here excited to meet you – you probably know that you’ve all over the news and all the sports articles so –”
“But I mean,” Ted started again. His eyes wandered to the side, pretending to recall something important. “You pay the media them enough… and they’ll say that you know how to fly and shit gold.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You didn’t know what Ted was trying to do but you weren’t going to have any of it.
Charlie gave Schlatt a worrisome look, and Schlatt returned it with an equally worried and confused expression.
Ted shrugged casually, as though he didn’t just hit a nerve. Completely ignoring the other two, he maintained stern eye contact with you. “Nothing I –”
“Ted –” Schlatt tried to interrupt.
“–’m just saying. You pay the media enough and the headlines will say anything you want them to.” He laughed. But no one joined him.
Ted's joke seemed to pierce the cold air. The training room was deafeningly quiet. Everyone save you held their breaths; your chest rose and fell slowly as you fiercely inhaled through your nose. You’ve got to be kidding me, you thought. By coming all the way out to Boston, you were expecting to escape the self-absorbed assholes of the industry –away from the people who always questioned you and forced you to prove your raw fighting skills.
Ted gazed between Schlatt and Charlie before returning to you. “I don’t know what the hell people see in you Hunter. I don’t believe it.”
Your jaw clenched “Wanna find out?”
“Are you challenging me?” He took a step closer to you, glaring down at you.
“That’s enough.” Schlatt put his hand on Ted’s chest, stepping in between you two to keep you away from each other. Blood coursed through Ted, a deep red rose across his face and neck and he looked like he was ready to grab you by the collar and throw the first punch. Schlatt had seen enough fights break out within seconds during his youth and he really wasn’t in the mood to handle one at this time. Especially not one between the former and new coach in his team. “Knock it off.”
You felt Charlie’s hand on your should, pulling you back. He gave you an apologetic look but you shrugged his hand off. “I’ve seen enough of you shitheads who think they’re better than me.”
“Oh yeah?” Now Ted was looking past Schlatt, who still had his hand on Ted’s chest, “Well, I’ve seen enough of mediocre shit fighters who think they’re better than everyone else.”
“I don’t know what you think about me or have heard but –”
Schlatt tried to calm down Ted, muttering for him to stop but Ted’s voice bellowed over, “Don’t tell me what to think! You rich fucks skip climbing the ladder, you throw money at the struggles and show the world how hard it was to climb to the top. I don’t even think you can last a minute in a real match without rigging it, let alone win it.”
“Hunter, please don’t listen to him,” Charlie huffed, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, this- this isn’t about you and he’s not usually like this–”
“We’ll see about that.” Unknowingly, your hands were balled into tight fists, clenching so hard that your knuckles threatened to tear out of your skin. Your nails were digging into your palms, leaving painful imprints for later. “I’m going to knock you to the ground and make you eat your words.”
Fixing the strap of your bag and grabbing it tightly, you stormed past Ted as he shouted more nonsense at you over Schlatts shoulder, who kept trying to shut him up. Charlie called out for you but everything went in one ear and out the other. Your skin felt hot and you felt your heart breathing at the base of your throat as though you’ve just finished running a mile. It was set. Not one day at the Octave and you’ve already locked horns with another know-it-all. Charlie tried to call you back but you were gone.
“Dickhead.”
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