spaghetti-hoop

[spaghetti-hoop]

This. This is what I needed on such a ballsack of a day.

Welcome back!

Listen. I have no excuse for waiting like 2 years or whatever to post an update but...surprise?

[spaghetti-hoop]

i really do believe my freak wife soulmate is on tumblr

[spaghetti-hoop]

Yours To Tame--Ch. 12

Chapter 12: That Night

            The sound of the television in the other room was soothing. I curled beneath the blankets, arms wrapped around a pillow as I listened to the quiet murmurs of the others. The nausea had settled, and my head didn’t throb the way it had earlier in the day. I felt better after Anna helped me shower and after Bryan had made me have some soup. I didn’t want to think about what had happened to my clothes that were covered in vomit.

            I jumped when the door to the bedroom opened slowly. Light spilled in behind the person standing in the doorway, illuminating their shape. My eyes wouldn’t focus long enough to determine who it was. I squeezed them shut; afraid the bright light would bring back the headaches.

            Soft footsteps crossed the room. Part of me wanted to sit up, but my body hurt so much. Like I’d been in a high-speed car accident. Moving wasn’t in the cards just then.

            The mattress dipped as someone sank onto the edge near my feet. A gentle hand settled on my ankle, thumb rubbing in slow circles against my lower calf. My muscles tensed for a second before calm flooded through my body. God knows, I hadn’t had anyone touch me so gently in such a long time.

            “Are you awake, Morgan?” I didn’t have to think about who the voice belonged to. That sweet timbre was something that I’d recognize anywhere.

            I shifted, my arms clutching the pillow a little tighter. I opened my eyes, letting them readjust to the dimness. The light from the doorway highlighted the shape of his face. I could imagine his ice blue eyes watching me.

            “Hmm,” I said softly. “Not really.”

            Bryan’s hand moved up just a little on my leg. Still on my ankle, his thumb stroking up and down my shin now. “Do you need anything?”

            The care in his voice made my stomach drop a bit. He had been so caring even when he didn’t have to be. He didn’t really know me—neither did Moxley for that matter—but he’d gone out of his way to protect me. To keep me safe. I couldn’t thank him enough for something that might have been small for him but was massively important to me.

            “I don’t think so,” I mumbled back. “Just tired. Can’t make my brain shut down.”

            “Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?” he asked quietly. “Maybe I can help you relax a little so you can sleep.”

            My heart skipped a beat before taking off in a gallop. I heard it thumping in my ears and pressing hard against my ribs. It was almost panic, but not entirely. Something just on the edge of it.

            “Okay.”

***

            Bryan nodded, even though he was pretty sure she couldn’t see it. He took a deep breath and toed off his shoes before walking around the bed and sitting against the headboard behind her. There was a short distance between them. He reached out to brush his fingertips on the back of her shoulder.

            “Roll over onto your back,” he said softly. “And put that pillow behind your head.”

            He listened to the sound of the sheets rustling as Morgan rolled onto her back. Her shoulder brushed against his knee as she settled down. She lifted her hair up from beneath her head, draping it over the pillow above her.

            “Good girl,” he murmured before reaching out to brush his fingertips along her forehead. “Close your eyes. Put your hands on your stomach, one on top of the other.”

            She did as he told her to. His thumb traced over her brow soothingly. He felt her expression relax just as she let out a soft breath.

            “I want you to focus on the feeling of my hand on your forehead. Nothing else. Don’t think about anything else but the feeling.” Bryan watched her for a moment, giving her time to sink into the start of something calm. “Good. Now just breathe. In and out slowly. Don’t force it, just breathe and focus on my hand.”

            He gently stroked his thumb across her forehead, timing his movements with the cadence of her breathing. He stayed as still as possible otherwise. If he could just help her stop thinking for a few minutes so she could sleep, he’d be happy. She deserved some peaceful rest after everything.

            It took ten minutes for Morgan’s body to sink into the mattress. Bryan knew the moment that her muscles let go and relaxed. Her breathing grew deeper, slower. Yet he kept his thumb brushing gently along her forehead. He rationalized that she might wake up if he didn’t.

***

            Anna sat against the arm of the sofa with her eyes fixed on the door leading into Morgan’s bedroom. She clutched a pillow to her chest as she thought about what was going to happen when they had to go back to their lives. Morgan wouldn’t go home with her. No. She’d get on a flight to Houston and walk right back into the horrors that Sammy would bestow on her.

            “I wish I could get her to stay away,” she said softly. “I don’t know what it going to take to make her leave him. For good.”

            Moxley grunted. “Bry and I will give it a try, talking to her. We can be very persuasive.”

            “She won’t listen to me. What makes you think she’s going to listen to you two?”

            He grinned at Anna, stretching one arm out on the back of the sofa. “You don’t know the two of us very well, cupcake. I know for a fact that Bryan isn’t going to just step back and let her walk right back into everything with Guevara. He will drag her back to Aberdeen if that’s what it takes.”

            Anna felt a small smile curve her lips. Something burned in the bit of her stomach, but she couldn’t explain it. It was somewhere between hope and a deeply sad desperation. “Why are you guys doing this?”

            Moxley looked for a moment like he didn’t know what to say. “It’s fucking crazy, isn’t it?” He chuckled nervously. “Honestly, I don’t know what it is. Not at the heart of it. But I know that there’s nothing that’s going to get in our way of keeping her safe from him. You, too, just so you know.”

            “He’s good with her,” she replied quietly, surprisedly. “I don’t think anyone has ever been like that to her. That sort of firm gentleness if that makes any sense.”

            “Perfect sense, cupcake,” Moxley said, reaching out to pat Anna’s knee. “Don’t worry. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

            Anna sighed. “I don’t know how to help her, Mox. I’ve never known how to help her.”

            Moxley gestured her toward him. He draped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a firm squeeze before dropping a brotherly kiss on the top of her head. “You’ve never given up on her. That’s more help than you know, Jay.”

***

            Bryan sat back against the headboard; his focus turned on Morgan. He’d barely looked away from her since she’d settled into sleep beside him. His chest tightened as he watched her chest rise and fall with each slow, smooth breath. It was a moment of peace for her, and he gently swept his fingers along her hair, brushing it back from her face.

            “I don’t know what he did to you, but I swear… Sammy Guevara won’t ever lay a hand on you again, Morgan. It’ll happen over my dead body.”

            He’d no more than said the words when Morgan twitched violently. Her brow furrowed, and her face scrunched in something like pain. She clutched at the sheets draped over her, twisting them in her fingers. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream just before she wailed. It was a sound of intense pain. Of fear and terror. Of agony.

            Bryan moved faster than he could think. He ripped the sheets away from her before snatching her up against him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against his chest. He held her firmly, tightly, but gently.

            “Morgan,” he said calmly, his lips against her ear. “You can hear me. You are safe. I’ve got you. You’re safe. It’s Bryan. I’ve got you.”

            She thrashed against his hold, throwing her head back hard enough that she would have broken his nose if he hadn’t moved. Her legs kicked. Her hands clawed at his forearms, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. Bryan did little more than flinch as she tore into his flesh. His head vibrated with the wails and screams that tore from her throat.

            “Shh. Shh,” he soothed. His voice was calm but solid. Commanding. “Hush. Stop fighting. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

            Bryan didn’t look up when he heard the commotion at the doorway. He knew that Morgan’s screams would have brought Anna and Moxley running. The two of them stumbled into the room, one after the other. Anna took two steps toward the bed before Moxley reached out and stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

            “Let me fucking go!” she shouted at him, yanking hard.

            Morgan screamed again, legs thrashing and kicking. Bryan’s arms hugged her against his chest as he held her legs down with his ankles on top of hers. He rested his chin on her shoulder, keeping his mouth next to her ear.

            “You can hear me, Morgan. You can hear me.” His words came out almost stern, but with a soft edge to them. He closed his eyes and tucked his face against her neck. “You’re safe, bunny. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ve got you.”

            Her body shuddered, giving one last whining thrash before she sank back against Bryan’s chest. He breathed deeply, rocking her side to side gently.

***

            It felt like I couldn’t get away. Every step took enormous effort. Pain lanced through my limbs. My flesh seemed to flay off my bones. Terror ran like venom through my veins, keeping me locked into this continuing spiral of torture that dragged me further and further down. I couldn’t breathe. My throat closed until I could only choke, desperate for air. The screams died against my vocal cords.

            I was alone. Totally and completely alone.

            You can hear me, Morgan.

            The words echoed through me, shuddering along my bones. They were somewhere so far away. Barely there. Almost lost in the haze of pain that continued to rocket through every cell of my body.

            You can hear me.

            I felt myself turn in circles, searching. Hoping to find the source of those words. I knew them. They were so close, like a name dancing just at the front of my mind but a breath out of reach. I ran, trying to find them. The ground rolled beneath my feet, tripping me and dragging me into something like quicksand. Every step bogged me further and further down.

            I’ve got you.

            A deep, heavy scream ripped through my chest. It sent blood pouring from my lips as my throat ripped open. Every muscle in my body tensed, tightening until it felt as if my bones would shatter from the force. It was an agony that would never end. My own personal hell that would hold me, enfold me in its arms until it had crushed me completely.

            You’re safe, bunny.

            As suddenly as the pain began, it vanished. It rushed away and left nothing but a numb, aching hollowness behind. What had been tears of terror and agony fell into wailing sobs of emptiness.

***

            Moxley stood behind Anna, watching from the door as Bryan restrained Morgan against his chest. Even across the distance, he could tell that his hold on her was firm but gentle. He held her and spoke calmly against her cheek.

            “Just given him a second,” Moxley said lowly. Anna tried to yank her arm away from his hold on her wrist, but he held on with just enough strength to keep her from getting any further.

            “Look at her,” she hissed back at him. For a moment, she was overcome with the urge to slap him just to get him to let go. “She’s in pain.”

            He sighed and tugged Anna back toward him. “Just… be patient. Give him a chance.”

            Moxley sucked in a deep breath as he watched Morgan slowly stop thrashing in terror. His heart raced in his chest as he saw Bryan’s hold loosen. Fingers gently slipped around her wrists, crossing her arms over her chest gently. Bryan’s chin dropped onto her shoulder, and his voice dipped too low for them to hear.

            “See,” Moxley said softly after a few moments. “I told you.”

***

            Bryan sighed in relief as he tilted his face into the curve of Morgan’s neck. Her skin carried a deep warmth and a faint scent of salt from her nightmare-conjured sweat. He closed his eyes and made himself take one slow breath after another as he counted her heartbeats beneath the pads of his fingers. She trembled against his chest, faint sobs ripping from her lungs as tears ran hot down her cheeks.

            “It’s okay,” he whispered against her ear. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

            He set his chin against the curve of her shoulder, fighting the urge to press a kiss against the soft sweep of her throat. A heavy sense of relief rushed through him as he felt her breathing slow.

            “What?” Morgan’s voice was small, almost broken. It was thick with the tears that still raced down her cheeks. “What’re you doing?”

            The sound of her voice was sweet against his ears. He tried to wipe the memory of her thrashing in deep and wounding pain in her sleep. Bryan gave himself just a moment more before he carefully let go of her wrists. He let his fingertips skim up her forearms before setting his palms against the bed beside him.

            “I came to sit with you,” he murmured, “and you started having a nightmare. You were thrashing and… I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

***

            I looked from Bryan toward Anna and Moxley standing in the doorway. My friend nodded in confirmation of his words. Something warm settled deep against my spine as I turned my attention back to the man holding me between his legs, my back pressed against his chest. If I closed my eyes and focused, I almost thought that I could feel his heartbeat somewhere near by shoulder blade.

            “I…” The words were caught in my throat. I couldn’t make my brain function. My tongue was stuck against the roof of my mouth. “I…Bry…”

            “Shh, it’s okay, Morgan,” he said, his mouth right next to my ear. His voice was that low and steady tone that calmed the rush of adrenaline through my veins. “There’s nothing to feel guilty or embarrassed about. Do you understand?”

            My head nodded of its own accord. Tears burned against my eyelids. Before… with Sammy… I shuddered, my entire body trembling with something between fear and shame. Bryan’s fingertips brushed against my wrist, and I jerked. Muscle memory dragged my body in tightly, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I moved to press my face against my knees.

            Bryan’s fingers ghosted up my arm until they cupped against my chin, stopping me from hiding. He gently turned my head until I was looking into his crisp blue eyes. “You’re safe, Morgan. You are safe with me. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re safe. Tell me you understand.”

            I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. The tears swelled, slipping down my cheeks. The intensity of it took my breath, shoving the air out of my lungs. It punched through my chest as if it would rip me into pieces.

            The fingers settled against my chin tightened just a bit. His voice came low and steady. “You. Are. Safe. And it’s okay to feel the way you are.” Bryan’s thumb stroked gently over my jaw. “There’s nothing wrong with you. And I’m not upset or disappointed with you. If you want me to give you space, I’ll move. I’ll leave the room. If you want to be alone, we’ll let you be alone. I promise you… Mox, Anna, and I are going to take care of you. Tell me you understand, Morgan.”

            I licked my lips, trying to force my tongue to form words. Bryan was a blur through the tears that still poured down my face. I ached. And I wanted so badly to believe that I could be safe. That I could rely on Bryan Danielson and his promises.

            “Please,” he said softly, almost to himself. His next words were stronger, clearer. “Tell me you understand.”

            “I…” My voice broke in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, cleared my throat, and tried again. “I-I understand, Bryan.”

            Bryan’s finger and thumb squeezed my chin gently. “Good girl,” he praised, a faint smile on his lips. “Good girl.”

______________________________________________

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[spaghetti-hoop]

Every day apart is a day closer to being together. Every day apart is a day closer to being together. Every day apart is a day closer to being together.

[spaghetti-hoop]

I came for the stories, and stayed for the snugglies.

I want a person who comes in my life by accident, and stays on purpose

[spaghetti-hoop]

We ain't just partners in crime, we're attorneys at law @squishyfruitloop

You deserve someone who wants to give you a fucking text back, ya know? Someone who wants you, only you, and makes you feel wanted. Someone who can’t help but message you first thing in the morning when the sun is coming through the curtain, and they’re barely waking. Someone who wants to spend their drunken Friday nights with you, but also their lazy Sundays. Someone who holds their one-person umbrella right above you when it’s pouring down, so that you’re sheltered, even if it means they get soaked through. You deserve someone who thinks of you, often. Someone who calls you on the phone at the end of a long day, because they want to hear the sound of your voice before they drift off to sleep. Someone who makes plans with you on a Tuesday evening, because the weekend is just too far away, and who cares if we have to go to work the next day. Someone who says definitely, not maybe, and follows through. You deserve to hear a song on the radio that makes you melt on the inside at the thought of this someone. Someone who could watch you sleeping for hours at a time, and be perfectly content in the grace and stillness of that moment. Someone who steals a kiss when you’re mid-sentence and least expecting to find their lips. Someone who will happily pig out on pizza with you in bed, and not judge the sweatpants & top knot look you’re sporting. Someone who is just that into you. You deserve someone who challenges the both of you constantly; someone who makes you strive to be better each day, because they’re trying to be better too. Someone you can count on to stick around when the shit hits the fan, which it will. Someone who chooses to lift you up, always. You deserve magic, and fireworks…You deserve someone who will always be careful with your heart, because they know just how fragile it already was before they held it. Someone who’s heart aches whenever yours does. Someone who wakes up next to you each day feeling like they’ve hit the jackpot, over and over again, and thinking what on earth did they do in their past life to be so damn lucky. You deserve someone’s complete attention. Someone who looks at you, and I mean really sees you, and all of the beauty you hold. You deserve to be someone’s first choice. Someone’s best friend. Someone’s partner in crime. Someone’s everything. You deserve to be loved; and loved extraordinarily well. And to be told that you are loved, every single day

– Thought Catalog

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@squishyfruitloop

Happy birthday, baby 😘 I love you more than you love Hugh 💙♾️💜

Hottest Hugh Jackman Moments — The Bath Scene in Australia

If you don’t think this is hot, I have to wonder what’s wrong with you lol :P 

[spaghetti-hoop]

Yours To Tame--Ch. 11

Chapter 11: The Same Day

            I was grateful that we were out of the elevator. The spinning had slowly stopped, even though the sway of Bryan’s footsteps still made my stomach turn over with nausea. I kept my eyes closed tight and my forehead pressed against the side of his neck. It was hard to focus on anything but the urge to keep myself from vomiting all over Bryan again.

            “It’s okay,” he said gently, as if he could feel the tension in my jaw as I clenched my teeth. “If you need to vomit, it’s okay.”

            My stomach clenched, but there wasn’t anything left inside to come up. Instead, I just retched and dry heaved against his shoulder. His thumb stroked against the back of my arm from where he held me. I tried to focus on the sensation to distract myself from the feeling in my guts.

            “I’m okay,” I murmured through clenched teeth.

            The air changed as we stepped through the door of the hotel room. A rush of cold air fanned over me, sending a shudder down my spine and a wave of relief over my skin. I could hear Anna and Moxley moving around, setting stuff down and getting things settled. But I couldn’t really focus on any of that considering the way my fingers ached as I tried to untangle my hands from Bryan’s shirt. My head lolled against his shoulder. The nausea passed slowly.

            I let out a faint whimper when Bryan leaned down to settle me against the arm of a large, overstuffed sofa. He settled me in gently, making sure that my head was resting against one of the throw pillows. My heart raced as I rolled to my side, fighting back the urge to vomit once again.

            Something cool and damp pressed against my forehead and swept over my face. Gentle fingers caught hold of my chin, turning my face to wipe away the sweat. I could feel my entire body starting to tremble. My eyes squeezed shut. My head was spinning. I couldn’t remember where I was.

            “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly, my voice low and broken. I forced my eyes open, knowing I had to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Master.”

***

            Master. The whispered word twisted his guts. It fell from Morgan’s lips with a mix of fear and shame. Her body shook. She had her eyes forced open wide, even though tears pooled along her bottom lids. Her dark eyes were full of something he could only call terror. One of her pupils was still blown wide from the concussion.

            “It’s Bryan,” he said softly. He kept his movements slow and gentle, making sure he stayed in her eyeline. Tears beaded and rolled down into her hair as she stared at him, unseeing and petrified. He took a breath and dropped the timbre of his voice, choosing his words and tone carefully. “Close your eyes. Right now.”

            She went white, her fingers clutching at the fabric over her stomach. Her eyes searched his before fluttering her lashes, tears slipping toward her temples as she complied. For a moment, she looked as if she were braced for something.

            He brushed the tears away with the washcloth in his hand, taking a second to let the side of his thumb feel the soft skin of her cheek. “Good girl,” he told her with a faint smile in his words. “I want you to keep your eyes closed and rest. I’m going to get you a drink and some Tylenol for your head. Then we’re going to eat. A little something that won’t bother your stomach. Do you understand?”

            Morgan’s eyes moved behind their lids but didn’t open. Her head moved in the slightest nod.

            “Tell me,” Bryan encouraged. “So I’m sure.”

            “I understand, Master.”

            Bryan felt his smile turn into a worried, angry scowl. He put the washcloth on the side table and reached back to settle Morgan’s hair back. His fingers slipped slowly and gently back beneath her neck. She shuddered and let out a faint yelp. “Shh. It’s just me. It’s Bryan. I’m going to lift your head up so I can get your hair off your neck. It’ll help you cool off. Tell me you understand.”

            “I understand, Master.”

            His scowl deepened. “Bryan. It’s Bryan.” He gently lifted her up, pulling her hair off her neck and piling it on top of her head. “Keep your eyes closed. I’ll be right back.”

            He kept looking over his shoulder at Morgan, afraid something would happen the moment he took his eyes off her. “Do you have Tylenol?” he asked Anna in a hushed whisper as he stepped into the nearby bathroom and picked up a glass from the sink. He filled it with cold water, trying his best to be as quiet as possible.

            “Order some food, Mox. Get something bland for Morgan. Chicken soup or bread. Plain rice. Something that’ll go down easy,” Bryan instructed as he passed by, holding out his hand for the tablets from Anna. “And do it in the other room so you don’t disturb her.”

***

            Moxley watched Bryan cross back over to the sofa where Morgan rested. The other man sank slowly onto the edge of the cushion, sitting the glass of water on the side table. His back was straight, shoulders squared. This was take charge Bryan. Manage a situation Bryan. Even if there was something soft in the way he looked at her.

            He could hear Bryan’s voice murmuring, soft and firm as he lifted Morgan’s head and helped her take the medication. He gave her a few sips of water then tilted her head back to make it easier to swallow them. Once Bryan was satisfied, he settled Morgan once again and sank down onto the floor beside her head.

            “Huh,” Moxley said under his breath. He watched his friend for a moment more before reaching for Anna Jay’s hand and pulling her through the door into the bedroom. A second glance let him know Bryan hadn’t moved.

            “What?” Anna said, her brow lifting.

            Moxley shook his head. “Nothing. So, what does she like to eat? Orders are something basic.”

            She shrugged. “I guess Panera.”

            Anna stayed at his side while he put in the order on the app. She watched him carefully, making sure he picked all the right things. After the order was in, Moxley sank down on the end of the bed and ran his hand over his face. He sighed from deep within his chest.

            “Anna,” he said after a moment of silence, “what happened with Guevara? Seriously.”

            “It’s not my story to tell,” she said. “But it’s enough to say that he tried to break her. There was a long time that I thought he had. And when I say he almost killed her, I mean it. He literally almost killed her. She was in the hospital for God knows how long. She had so many surgeries… she doesn’t even really look like herself anymore.”

            “I don’t think I want to know,” Moxley replied with a groan.

            “No, no you don’t.”

***

            I felt my eyes get heavy as every ounce of my energy poured from my veins. I shivered. Everything hurt. A hand slipped tenderly into my hair, lifting my head while another held a glass to my lips.

            “Drink,” came a stern but gentle voice. “Not too fast.”

            My hand came up, fingers closing loosely around the cool glass. The fingers beneath mine were warm and a little rough. But they were gentle as they tipped the water against my lips.

            “Good girl,” the voice soothed. “A little more.”

            I took a few more sips before the water disappeared. The careful hand in my hair guided me back onto the soft cushion beneath my head. I took a few breaths and tried to figure out where I was. Not knowing made a sliver of panic settle against my spine.

            “It’s Bryan,” the voice came again. “It’s Bryan. Take a deep breath… good girl… again… good… one more… very good.”

            The calmness of Bryan’s voice settled into my bones. I took one more steadying breath and opened my eyes just a bit. “Thank you, Ma—” He gave me a stern look, and I stopped. “Bryan.”

            He smiled behind his beard. His thumb reached out and stroked gently against my cheekbone. “Good girl, bunny,” he whispered. “It’s just me. Bryan. The only thing you call me is Bryan, okay? Tell me you understand.”

            I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into his touch. “Just Bryan.”

            He opened his hand, setting his palm against my face. “You’re never to call anyone ‘master’ again. Tell me you understand.”

            I opened my mouth to argue, knowing that it wouldn’t be that easy. But the crisp look in his blue eyes stopped me. Part of me felt a thrill run through my chest at the idea of being my own again. Of not having to… I didn’t want to think about it. “I understand.”

            Bryan’s lips turned up into a gentle smile. The rough pad of his thumb brushed along my cheek in slow, soothing strokes. Back and forth. “Whatever’s happened before, you’re safe with us, Morgan. Mox and I won’t let anything happen to you or Anna.”

            Something slipped behind my ribs. It felt like my heart stuttered, skipping every other beat. Like it had forgotten how to work.

            “Stay,” I said quietly, looking down to focus my attention on the pattern on the fabric of the sofa. “Please?”

***

            Moxley stood at the door looking out into the little living room of the suite. Bryan was still there beside Morgan, sitting on the floor beside her head with his hand cradling her cheek. His knees were drawn up, ankles crossed as he watched her. His shoulders were still squared and solid as if he were about to take on the weight of the world.

            Stay. Please. The words were so quiet, but they hit Moxley like a freight train. All the air rushed out of his lungs. His nails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. Morgan sounded so… small. So afraid.

            A fierceness rushed through him, setting fire to the base of his spine. He was overwhelmed with an urge to fight the world for her. No one deserved what happened to her—whatever it had been—and he would burn the world to ashes to protect her now. Moxley didn’t stop to understand or try to explain it. All he knew was that Morgan Knox would never be around Sammy Guevara again.

            “Food’s on the way,” he said softly. He was careful to keep his voice even and calm. She was already messed up enough, and he wasn’t about to make it any worse. “You can eat and rest.”

            Morgan’s eyes flicked toward him. There was exhaustion and a deep sense of what he could only describe as loss in her dark eyes. He grinned in the hopes that it would lighten her mood. “I promise the two of us won’t throw too big of a party. Mitch won’t be invited.”

            Warmth surged through his veins when he saw the small smile on her face. It wasn’t much, but he’d take it.

            “Anna, you want to help our girl here get cleaned up and changed? Bry and I will stay out of the way. You know, like gentlemen.”

            Morgan looked away from him, and he would have sworn that there was a faint pink across her cheeks.

            Bryan tucked hair behind her ear and tilted his head. “Mox and I are going to go down to the car and get our bags. You’re going to go with Anna. When you get finished, Mox and I will be here waiting for you.”

            Moxley choked on his breath. He’d never heard Bryan use that voice, that tone, with anyone. Morgan’s eyes settled on Bryan’s, something faint and soft in her eyes.

            “Tell me you understand,” Bryan said evenly but gently.

            She nodded, leaning into his touch. “I understand.”

            “Good girl.”

***

            Anna stood by the bathroom door while Bryan helped Morgan up from the sofa. He was gentle with her in a way that she didn’t expect. He held one of her hands while he wrapped his other arm around her waist as he helped her walk slowly across the room. When she stumbled or swayed, he stopped and whispered to her gently.

            After a few more steps, Bryan slipped one arm behind her back and leaned down to curl the other behind her knees. He lifted her from her feet and walked slowly toward Anna, who stepped aside to allow Bryan to carry Morgan into the bathroom. He sat her gently on the lid of the toilet and brushed her hair back from her face.

            “We’ll be right back. Nothing will happen to you or Anna, okay?” He crouched so he could look into her eyes. “Do you understand?”

            Anna watched Morgan’s eyes flutter shut for a moment before she nodded. “I understand.”

            He leaned forward, almost as if he were going to touch her again, but he pulled himself back. As he stood up, he turned toward Anna.

            “We won’t be fifteen feet from the hotel,” he promised quietly. “Keep the door locked and call one of us if anything happens. We’ll give you twenty or thirty minutes alone.”

            Anna nodded, lowering her voice. “What are you going to do? Stand guard at the door?”

            Her stomach flipped in surprise when he gave her a brief and firm nod. “Until I can literally watch over her, I’ll make sure nobody comes in that goddamn door.”

            Bryan reached out and touched her shoulder gently before stepping around her and disappearing out of the room. A moment later, the door of the hotel room shut firmly.

            Taking a deep breath, Anna turned back to where you sat on the lid of the toilet. “C’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you out of those clothes and into a bath. You’ll feel better after.”

            “Okay,” Morgan replied quietly, her voice small and timid.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she tugged her clothes off while Anna ran a bath. The water was warm enough to help Morgan relax just a little bit. Without shame or awkwardness, Anna helped Morgan stand and settle into the bathtub. She helped her friend to dip her head back into the water so she could wash Morgan’s hair.

            “Are they coming back?” Morgan asked quietly, not looking at her best friend.

            Anna could read the sadness and fear that ran in a current beneath Morgan’s question.

            “Yeah,” Anna replied soothingly as she tilted Morgan’s head back to rinse the shampoo from her hair. “They’re just outside the hotel. Then they’ll be just outside the door until you’re ready for them to come back inside.”

            Morgan nodded gently. “Sammy…”

            Anna shook her head firmly. “We’re not going to talk about him. Or even think about him right now. Mox and Bryan are here to protect you. They won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”

            “I’m scared.” Morgan’s voice was so quiet, so full of an exhausted sort of terror.

            “I know. But I trust them.’

            Silence settled in the room for a moment. Morgan drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Me too.”

***

            I felt surprisingly normal after Anna helped me get dressed and dry my hair. She sat behind me on the sofa and gently braided my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been able to sit alone with Anna. Sammy had kept us apart for so long that it was almost as if we’d forgotten how to be friends without him watching over our shoulders.

            The knock on the door made me jump, sending adrenaline rushing through my veins. My body curled in on itself, knees pulled up to my chin and my arms tight around them. I hid my face to hide the tears already threatening to spill out. He was on the other side of the door. I just knew it. It didn’t matter what Bryan and Moxley had promised. Sammy had found me.

            Anna wrapped her arm around my shoulders as her phone rang. She leaned over to grab it, keeping one of her hands on my back. Her body relaxed beside me as she turned her phone screen toward me. Bryan’s name flashed with each ring.

            She answered, putting it on speaker. “Where are you guys?”

            Bryan’s reply echoed through the room. “Right outside with food. I’m going to knock on the door.”

            A jolt of fear ran down my spine as the sound of knuckles against metal filled the space. It reverberated through the speaker of Anna’s phone.

            “I’ll be right there,” she replied before hanging up. She leaned over to kiss the side of my head before getting up to cross the room. I watched her hand clench around her phone as she looked through the peephole before swinging the door open.

            Everything drained out of me when I saw Bryan and Moxley step inside. Moxley pulled two rolling suitcases behind him even as he balanced another two backpacks on his shoulders. Bryan held up a carrier of drinks and a bag of food. I felt my heart settle just a little.

            “Relax,” Bryan said, a gentle firmness in his voice. “Put your feet on the floor and take a few deep breaths, Morgan.”

            A strange sort of peace began to leach through me. Nodding, I did as he asked. He watched me with a faint smile as I stretched my body out, settling my feet flat on the floor and drinking in one slow lungful of air after another. His smile got wider, and something flashed in his eyes.

            When he was satisfied that I’d relaxed, he carried over a drink and a small bowl. Instead of sitting next to me, he sank onto the floor beside my feet and placed the drink beside him. His fingers gently pried the lid from the bowl and handed it to me. The scent of chicken broth wafted up just as my stomach growled. Bryan chuckled softly. I was surprised I was even hungry after how messed up my stomach had been all day.

            “It’s warm,” Bryan said as he handed it up to me. A spoon followed a few seconds later. “Take it slow.”

            He waited a beat, holding the spoon just out of my reach. His brows lifted. I took another deep breath and nodded. “I understand.”

            “Good girl.”

____________________________________________

Tag List

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@mrsmatt

@unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin

@rollynchwhore

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@imagineall-the-fandoms

[spaghetti-hoop]

And I am a trash enabler 🫣

Baby, you are absolute Logan trash at the moment! 😂😂😂

Ummm...

No...

... maybe

[spaghetti-hoop]

Yours to Tame: Ch. 10

Chapter 10: A Few Hours Later

            Moxley had done a pretty good job of pulling the car to the door of the hospital so that Morgan wouldn’t be able to see if Sammy was still in the parking lot. Bryan made sure that he kept himself between Morgan and the lot just in case. Anna Jay stepped out of the passenger side of the car, beating aside the balloon. She took a moment to look over Morgan, assuring herself that Bryan had gotten her to out in one piece.

            “Come on,” she said, opening the back door of Moxley and Bryan’s rented SUV. “You’ll probably ride easier in the back.”

            Bryan kept his body between Morgan and the lot as she got into the car. He had to fight off the urge to look over his shoulder to check for Sammy. He knew that the moment he saw Sammy Guevara there wasn’t anything on Earth and beyond that would stop him from committing the bloodiest type of murder.

            Morgan let out a faint whimper as she settled in the backseat. “Bryan?” she queried softly.

            “Right here, bunny,” he said without thinking. He watched her with fear in his gut. The nickname came out without his permission. Honestly, he didn’t know where it came from.

            She didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she just reached for his hand, pulling him across the seat until he was next to her. When he was settled in place, she pulled on her seatbelt and leaned her head against the curve of his shoulder.

***

            There weren’t words to explain the pain that coursed through my head. Everything was spinning even as I sat completely still. I ached all over and just wanted to go to sleep.

            “Looking a little green there,” Moxley said from the front. He reached over Anna and grabbed a bag from the glove compartment. He passed it over his shoulder to Bryan. “Use this if you get sick, princess. Don’t want to lose my deposit.”

            “He’s joking,” Bryan whispered softly as he opened the bag and draped it across his lap. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, ninety percent of what Mox says is bullshit. Or sarcasm.”

            I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t want to make my headache worse. I was grateful to Bryan for speaking so softly since he was so close. “That’s okay,” I replied just as quietly. “I don’t mind it so much.”

            Moxley snickered from the front seat. He pulled away from the hospital slowly. “See, Bry. I told you she’d like me eventually.”

            “I don’t think she said that she liked you,” Anna tossed out.

            He laughed and the sound echoed through the car. I winced and reached up to put my hand over my ear. Bryan’s body shifted as he leaned forward, his words too low for me to make them out. When he settled back in the seat, I reached for his arm and drew it around my shoulders. The noise of Moxley’s laughter, the murmur of the radio, and the rocking of the car was starting to make my stomach turn.

            Bryan’s fingers brushed against my cheek, tucking hair behind my ear. “Just take deep breaths,” he soothed. His other hand stroked gently up and down my arm. “Close your eyes, plant your feet, and take deep breaths.”

***

            There you go, Bry, Moxley thought as he watched Bryan and Morgan in the rearview mirror. His friend felt horrible for what had happened, for letting Morgan go out to wrestle that night knowing that she wasn’t okay. It didn’t matter how many times Moxley had told him that it wasn’t his problem. As stubborn as Bryan was, he’d just keep beating himself up over it.

            He reached over and tapped Anna Jay on the knee to get her attention. He jerked his finger toward the backseat. He grinned as his companion pulled down the vanity mirror to catch a glimpse. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that Anna was as fierce a protector as anyone he’d ever seen, and after seeing how Sammy treated Morgan, he was glad for it.

            “I’ve never hated someone like I hate Sammy,” Anna had told him as they walked out to the car. Moxley had looked around to get a read on where the little dipshit had parked himself to spy on the doors of the hospital. “He’s almost killed her, Mox. More than once.”

            Jon Moxley wouldn’t ever be described as a gentle man. Or one who could hold his temper for long. The moment Anna Jay had mentioned the lengths that Sammy Guevara’s abuse had gone, it had been almost more than he could do to keep his feet moving toward the SUV. Rage boiled in his guts as he thought about the things he’d do to protect Morgan from that asshole.

            But he knew that no matter how much he wanted to protect the girl sitting in the backseat, Bryan already wanted it infinitely more. He split his attention between the road and his friend, watching as the gentle side of Bryan began to peek out. Very few ever got to see it. Most people knew him as they guy who threatened to kick your fucking head in. And then actually did it.

            “I’ll kill him if…” Anna growled in Moxley’s direction. She’d seen her friend go through enough hurt for ten lifetimes.

            “If I don’t get to him first, cupcake.” It felt strange to be threatening one of his oldest friends, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming surge of protectiveness that rose in his chest when he looked at Morgan Knox.

***

            Once we got to the hotel, it felt like the world started to fall out from beneath my feet. Just stepping out of the car and into the underground lot made my head spin. Vertigo washed through me just as my stomach clenched, bile rising in my throat. There was nothing left to vomit. Everything I’d eaten for the past day had ended up in that plastic bag now dripping in the garbage can on the far end of the lot. Now, it was just dry heaving that made pain lance up the back of my skull.

            Bryan hadn’t complained that I’d thrown up on his sleeve when the nausea first roiled through me. He’d held my hair back with one hand while helping me hold the bag open with the other. When it was clear that I’d finally emptied my stomach, he’d simply tied off the bag and put it on the plastic floormat. Then he’d stripped off his plaid overshirt and used it to wipe the vomit, drool, and tears from my face.

            “Thank you,” I whispered as I felt his hand come up to settle in the middle of my back. He held the other out in front of me as if he were ready to catch me when I stumbled.

            “It’s okay,” he replied softly. His palm was warm against my back as he walked slowly beside me, guiding me through to the lobby. “You’re doing great. Slow and steady.”

            Anna walked up to the counter to check in while Moxley walked straight over to the elevator, punching the up button with his thumb. He leaned against the wall as he watched me shuffle forward as fast as I could.

            “Take your time, princess,” he called, one corner of his mouth curling up in a grin. “We got all day.”

            I sucked in a breath and tried to move faster, but Bryan took hold of my hand to stop me. “He’s messing with you, Morgan,” Bryan soothed, a smile in his voice. “He’s a sarcastic asshole sometimes. You’ll get used to it. After a while. A long while.”

            Without warning, a laugh bubbled out of me. It might have made my ears ring and my head throb, but it was a sort of laughter that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made the sound. Bryan let out a chuckle in response, fingers squeezing against mine almost reflexively. He grinned as we got within a few feet of Moxley.

             A wave of vertigo crashed into me, and my feet stumbled, tripping over each other. In less than a single breath, Bryan had slipped his arms around my waist to hold me up. “Steady,” he said softly. He let out a sigh and moved smoothly as he tucked one arm around my back and another beneath my knees. He lifted me from my feet. I let out a yelp of surprise and clutched the collar of his shirt in my fists.

            “It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’ve got you.”

***

            Bryan forced himself to breathe slowly to control the racing of his heart. He was sure that Morgan could feel his pulse beating against her fingers. She’d grabbed hold of his collar the moment he’d lifted her up into his arms, knuckles white as she gripped the fabric so hard that he felt like she might choke him. Truth was, he didn’t care. He knew that in that moment—at least—she was safe. And that was all that mattered to him.

            He shared a look with Moxley, who was clearly trying not to grin as he stepped aside to let them into the elevator. By the time he’d settled with his back against the wall and his arms firmly around Morgan, Anna had jogged across the lobby and slipped in just before the doors clinked shut.

            “How you doin’, princess?” Moxley asked as he propped his shoulder against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. The bags sat at his feet.

            “Gonna be sick,” Morgan mumbled against Bryan’s shoulder. “My head is splitting open.”

            Moxley pulled a face that made Anna giggle. “Bry’s going to need a whole new wardrobe when you’re done with him.”

            Bryan huffed and pulled her just a little bit higher against his chest. The urge to kiss her hair suddenly rose up in him, and he had to fight hard to stop himself. Her head settled against the curve of his neck as she breathed slowly and deeply. He realized that his thumb was stroking gently against the outside of her knee. Maybe he thought it would soothe her. Or at least distract her from the nausea. Or—more likely—it settled his own nerves about what was going to happen once she had to go home.

***

            Anna watched Morgan carefully, trying to determine if she really was going to be sick. Her face was pale and had a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her eyes were squeezed closed as she leaned against Bryan’s shoulder. Without thinking about it, Anna stepped forward and brushed Morgan’s hair back from her face. Her friend’s skin was clammy.

            “Are you sure you’re okay, Morgan?” she asked quietly. Something caught in her throat, a fear that hadn’t been there since the night she’d almost lost her best friend.

            She sighed against Bryan’s shoulder. Her fingers loosened their hold on his shirt. “So tired, AJ.”

            “It’s okay,” Anna replied with her hand against Morgan’s cheek. “We’re almost to the room. You can rest.”

            Moxley’s voice slipped into the elevator before the door opened. “We’ll hang out a while if you want.”

            There was a faint grunt of assent from Morgan as Bryan stepped out into the hallway, taking care to walk slowly behind Anna’s retreating form.

________________

Tag List

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@rollynchwhore

@mrsmatt

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@not-that-kinda-gurl08

[spaghetti-hoop]

every episode of criminal minds

lady: walking down dark alley slowly and alone (everything a woman would never do)

white guy in hoodie: hey

lady: AHH

white guy in hoodie: u look like my mom *stabs her* *takes her toes*

—

emily: and then i got drunk and slammed that bitch’s head into the bar counter

derek: haha thats great-

jj: its a bad one *hands out files*

emily: let me eat you out

(in the conference room)

jj: so yeah this guy stabs ladies. but now, he takes their toes

spencer: hes escalating

hotch: 😡😡😡 wheels up in 30

(zoom in on the plane)

jj: if when you do, but i cannot for the yes of he was what i no 💖 -lil huddy

(in the plane)

emily: sexual sadist

spencer: the history of toes is actually a long starting with the ancient indians they used to-

derek: dont make me put ur head through the plane window pretty boy. although i know you would love that

spencer: 😳😑

garcia on the phone: okay so i made a list of all the white guys in arizona.

derek: i want to taste ur guts

garcia: impale me with ur cock

hotch: thanks garcia 😡😡😡

—

detective alzhiemers: we spoke on the phone and i invited u here but i just want u to know i dont trust a single fucking thing you say. wow agent jareau u got that barbie doll build.

hotch: 😡 where can we set up

(at the crime scene)

rossi: 👁👄👁 he took their toes. but u can see the bone here.

(camera zooms in on derek)

derek: *takes off his sunglasses* *flexes* hes devolving

(at the m.e)

doctor dr. : so basically he kills them. u can see because theyre dead. he takes their toes but its sloppy.

emily: he must be doing it because he doesnt have any toes.

reid: *calling garcia* we need a list

(music escalates)

—

spencer: yeah so basically hes white and a sexual sadist

hotch: mid 30s, his mother didnt love him

emily: HES IMPOTENT because his girlfriend cut off his balls

derek: and he does not have toes. we gotta catch him fast. *picks up a call from garcia*

jj: i will be telling the press so we can get calls about men without toes.

garcia: hey my 12 inch bad dragon dick. i found him- Ben Serialkiller, 54 creep lane. born without toes, his mom kicked him out when he was 5.

derek: thanks babygirl. remind me to kiss ur feet tonight.

rossi: god am i old enough to die

detective alzheimers: actually i think youre completely wrong.

emily: we dont fucking care shut up limpdick

other cops: okay we believe you now

—

(in a dark basement)

spencer: Ben, i get it. u dont have to kill these women. *puts the gun down and takes off kevlar for no fucking reason* my mom tried to kill me too. but im not a serial killer.

white guy in hoodie: you dont get it.

rossi: you dont want to kill her. we can let the world know of your struggle, ben. we will teach them of a world with men without toes.

white guy in hoodie: okay i guess. *lets go of lady* *cries*

hotch: 😡😡😡 *cuffs him*

—

morgan, on the jet: u did good today, kid.

reid: thanks. i wonder what my life would be like if i didnt have 3 lifetimes of trauma on my 27 year old back.

morgan: hahaha

emily, joining in: hahahaha. loser

hotch: 😡😡😡 i wish i had emotions

jj: i miss my kids

emily: can we fuck yet

jj: fine i guess

(picture of the sky)

rossi: And in the end, if I eated soap, no I didnt because I yes ✨ -hitler

[spaghetti-hoop]

Yours To Tame--Ch. 9

Chapter 9: One Week Later

            I sat on the edge of the hospital bed and looked at Anna. My clothes were packed in a little overnight bag. There was still an edge of fatigue around me. A fuzziness to my thoughts that made it hard to focus. I’d been cleared of any major damage but told that it would be several weeks before I’d be allowed to wrestle again.

            Sammy was going to be ferociously angry. I was so afraid of what was going to happen when we saw each other for the first time after everything that had happened in the hospital. As if she could read my thoughts, Anna looked up and wrapped her fingers around mine. I was surprised to find that mine were icy cold.

            “Hey,” she said, squeezing my hand firmly. “You aren’t going this alone. Not for one second.”

            I sighed and blinked away the terrified tears that welled up in my eyes. “You can’t be with me all the time, Anna. Besides, I have to go home eventually.”

            “You could come stay with me until we figure out what to do.”

            “That’ll just make Sammy even angrier. It’s already going to be bad enough…” My stomach dropped into my toes. As if I could feel the blows, I curled in on myself, wrapping my arms around my chest. Fear burned like bile up my throat. The venom of terror roiled through my veins. “Best if I just get it over with.”

            Anna scowled and reached up to push some of my hair back from my forehead. Her fingertips hesitated over the raised scar hidden just at my hairline. There was half a dozen more, all carefully camouflaged. I didn’t want to think about how they got there.

            She scowled. “Restraining order, Morgan. Why didn’t you keep the restraining order?”

            “Lawyers are expensive. And he never lived by it anyway.”

            “That’s what the cops are for,” she replied. “His ass should have been in jail years ago.”

            Before I could reply, there was a gentle knock on the door. We both looked up, and I couldn’t help the acute fear that cut through me. It swung open slowly.

            “Everybody decent in there?” Moxley’s voice called out.

            The fear receded so quickly it left me dizzy. “Yeah,” Anna replied. “How about out there?”

            Moxley appeared in the doorway with his arms loaded down with a huge bouquet of flowers and a get well soon balloon tied to the wrist of a huge stuffed teddy bear. There was a faint smile on his face as he practically sauntered across the room.

            “What in the name of—”

            “I told you it was ridiculous,” Bryan said, appearing from around Moxley’s broad shoulder. “One or the other or the other, not all three!”

            Bryan sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t help but grin when he made a face in my direction. “How’re you feeling, Morgan?”

            “Bitch of a headache. Anyone ever tell you two that you’re louder than a frat party on free beer weekend?” I sucked in a breath and held out my free hand toward Anna. “Can I have those glasses?”

            The doctor insisted that I wear a pair of dark, anti-glare sunglasses for the next few weeks. I knew it would help. That going without them would just make the recovery process from the concussion longer. But I knew they’d go missing within an hour of being back home.

            “Those are really pretty, Mox,” Anna said, gesturing to the flowers. “And that little guy is adorable.”

            “Ain’t he?” he laughed. “Name’s Jon.”

            Anna giggled, and I could have sworn that she was blushing. “Isn’t that a coincidence.”

            Bryan rolled his eyes and sank down on the end of the bed. There was a foot or two between us, and he kept his hands in his lap. But I could see the worry in his sky-blue eyes. “Seriously,” he asked softly, “how are you?”

            I shrugged, not quite knowing how to answer. Half a dozen responses existed to that question. “I—”

            “Morgan is out of commission for a couple weeks. And she can’t travel for a few more days, so we’re stuck here for a bit longer.”

            “Where are you staying?” Bryan asked.

            “Hotel,” I replied quietly. “Just until I’m given the okay to go home.”

***

            Bryan felt the moment that Moxley’s eyes turned to him. The two men looked at one another, almost as if they could understand each other without speaking. It didn’t take a genius to realize that home for Morgan meant with Sammy Guevara. And after what he’d heard in that hallway—what he’d learned in the last few days—there was no way he was going to let that happen.

            “You know,” Moxley said as he handed the teddy bear to Anna. “I’ve got a few days off, too. Want some company?”

            Anna smiled at them with something deep and grateful in her eyes. She looked between the two of them and to Morgan and back again before giving a firm nod. “Wouldn’t be so bad, would it, Morgan?”

            He watched Moxley gently tap Morgan’s foot with the tip of his boot. She jumped and drew her knees up to her chest. Her eyes went deer in the headlights wide before going flat and distant. If he looked close enough, he could see the tremble in her limbs that she was trying so desperately to hide.

            A new rush of hate splashed into Bryan as he found himself wondering about why she felt she had to fight to hold it back. If he ever got his hands on Sammy Guevara, he was going to rip him apart one muscle fiber at a time. They’d been by the hospital a few times since their first visit, and it wasn’t lost on them that Sammy was often outside in the parking lot staring at the building. Anna had filled them in that he’d been banned from entering the hospital. Sammy hadn’t been subtle about hiding his distain for them at work this past week, either.

            There wasn’t a doubt in Bryan’s mind that the moment Morgan left this building, Sammy would get his hands on her. And God knew what would happen to her after that. He didn’t want to entertain the thought.

***

            He’s got to get that rage under control, Moxley thought as he held the flowers out to Morgan in the hope of drawing her back out of her shell. He understood the feeling, but he knew that all it would do was scare her right back off. And they couldn’t protect her if she wouldn’t even be around them.

            When Morgan wouldn’t look up, Moxley crouched down so that he could look into her eyes. The pupils were wide, irises so dark they looked black barely visible around them. The terror in them made his guts clench.

            “Hey, it’s all good,” he said quietly. He kept his voice low and his hands in sight as he spoke to her. “It’s just an idea. At least let us make sure that you get to the hotel and get settled in okay.”

            She blinked and then squeezed her glassy eyes shut. He couldn’t tell if it was from the concussion, the meds, or something else entirely. After a few deep breaths, Morgan Knox nodded. Her brow furrowed as if the movement hurt. He supposed it did.

            “Think you guys could give us a lift?” Anna asked, drawing his attention.

            Jon Moxley had never really thought of himself as an intuitive person, but somehow he got the gist of what Anna Jay was really asking. Is he here? He felt his mouth curl into a sneer as he gave her a brief, barely there nod of his head.

            “You grab the gifts and I’ll get the bags,” he said as he straightened himself out. His joints popped and cracked, making him grunt. He thought he saw the ghost of a smile on Morgan’s face. “We’ll bring the car around for princess here. Bryan can handle getting her outside.”

            The two met looked at one another, communicating in a quiet way that wrestlers had. They had both seen Sammy sitting in the driver’s seat of his car in the parking lot. It wasn’t hard to imagine the horrible things that were stuck deep in his mind. Moxley hadn’t exactly seen everything that Bryan had, but he knew for sure that he didn’t like the idea of Morgan going anywhere near the asshole who’d put her in the hospital.

            “We’ll take it slow,” Bryan said as he stood up. He held out his hand to her, palm turned upward. “If you get dizzy, we can stop or get a chair.”

***

            I stared at Bryan’s hand, confusion slipping through my thoughts. “What?” I mumbled.

            His eyes crinkled as he reached his hand closer. “Mox and Anna are going to get the car. I’ll walk out with you to make sure that you don’t get dizzy or anything.”

            My eyes darted toward the door, but Anna had already disappeared out of sight. “I… okay,” I replied, clutching the dark glasses in one hand. For a moment, I didn’t quite know what to do with Bryan’s outstretched hand.

            “It’s okay,” he soothed. “You don’t have to. I’ll just walk close enough that I can catch you if you start to stumble. Is that alright?”

            I swallowed hard, surprised by the rush of feeling that settled deep into my chest. My breath rushed out of me as I reached out and placed my fingers against his palm. I pulled myself to my feet, swaying as the world started to spin.

            Bryan’s hand tightened on mine as he stepped forward to slip his other arm around my waist. “I’ve got you.”

            Squeezing my eyes shut, I leaned into him. “I’m tired,” I whined. “My head hurts.”

            “I know. Hold onto me, and we’ll take it slow,” he soothed. “As soon as we get you to the hotel, you can rest.”

            I let Bryan lead the way, shuffling along beside him with shaking steps. He made me stop and put on the glasses when I whined at the light shining through the windows.

            “You’re going to stay with me, right?”

            Bryan’s fingers tightened on mine. He tensed for just a moment before replying. “If it’ll make you feel safe, of course I will.”

            My head leaned against his shoulder in relief as we took the last few steps toward the door.

____________________________

Tag List

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@unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin

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@librathepheonix13

[spaghetti-hoop]

Everything Has Changed--Ch. 29

Chapter 29

Nick

            I hadn’t spoken to Matt in almost a week. He called constantly the first day or two, then eventually stopped by day five. My voicemail had at least two dozen messages from him. I honestly couldn’t bring myself to listen to any of them. The truth was that I felt horrible for leaving him stranded in the parking lot at LAX. It had been a stupid and selfish thing to do, and I felt sick that I’d done it from the moment I hit the highway. But I was also so angry and hurt that I stuck by it.

            My parents, Malachi, DJ, all of them called. I didn’t answer. I knew that my siblings would try to get me to forget what happened. Dad would have tried to counsel me; told me I was my brother’s keeper and all that. Mom would have put the emotional screws on me to make me forgive him. Of course, I was sure that Matt had given them the story he wanted them to hear. He wouldn’t have told them about why I’d been so upset. How he’d basically picked Kenny Omega over me. Even knowing what he’d done to Shaye, Matt had chosen to basically break up the team we’d built for our entire lives. I hated him for it, and I hated myself for hating him.

            The only person who actually showed up at my apartment to try to drag some kind of conversation out of me was Sam. I don’t know why it surprised me when she appeared, banging on the door and screaming for me to open up. She’d completely filled my voicemail with one message after the other telling me how I was being stupid and selfish and generally a massive prick. The first few times I’d just let her knock and scream until she wore herself out. But then my neighbors complained. Then I just opened the door, told her to go away, and slammed it in her face.

            I’d basically locked myself away in my apartment and cut off contact with just about everyone I knew. Especially my family. It was just easier to avoid everyone because I didn’t want to have to explain or justify what I’d done against the convincingly smooth lies my brother would have told everyone around him. I hated thinking about Matt like that, but at the moment it seemed about right. It wasn’t like he was going out of his way to find out what really happened in Winnipeg.

            I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything, and even though my stomach was growling I had no desire for food. My head had been killing me for hours despite chugging water and eating ibuprofen like candy. I suppose going without food for so long wasn’t helping either.

            My fingers groped through the tangled sheets for my phone. I clicked it on to check the time: half past five. So, eight thirty on the East Coast. My finger lingered over the screen as I fought with myself. It wasn’t like I was exactly on the top of my game emotionally—as good an excuse as any to do the Jackson family version of drunk calling.

            I sucked in a breath and scrolled through to Shaye’s number, tapping on it before I could think twice. My nerves were so shot that I almost wished I was drunk as I listened to the line ringing over and over again. After the tenth ring, it was clear she wasn’t going to answer.

            Click. “You’ve reached Shaye Walker. Please leave a message at the tone.” Beep.

            My stomach dropped out. Of course she wouldn’t answer my call. She hadn’t done it for the last month, so there was no reason for her to change her mind now. I felt my jaw tighten as my breath caught in my chest.

            What’s the point, I thought. “I’m sorry,” I said almost too softly to hear my own words. “I shouldn’t have called.”

            I hung up and tossed the phone somewhere near the foot of the bed. My stomach grumbled and my head throbbed.

            What’s the point?

***

Shaye

            I tugged my bag tighter against my chest as I waited on the platform for the train to the Upper East Side. My head felt like it had been squeezed in a vice all day, and all I wanted to do was go home, crawl into my bed, and wait for Kenny to call. If he called. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. I never knew which one it was going to be, so I kept myself awake for as long as I could and dragged myself out of bed as early as possible. I didn’t want to miss his call no matter how much it ground me down day after day.

            The subway was hot and stuffy. I rubbed my fingers over my forehead and groaned as I checked my watch. The train was late. I just wanted to go home. Was that too much to ask? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this exhausted. Or the last time I’d existed on so much caffeine. A yawn worked its way out.

            I blinked and the train doors were just about to slam shut in my face. Before it could, I forced my way onto the car and found a place to sit. My body practically collapsed into the plastic seat as I dug in my pocket for my phone. Maybe Kenny would be available. Maybe I could speak to him for a bit and then be able to go to bed not long after I got home.

            The voicemail icon caught my attention. I tapped it without checking who called.

            It played once, but I could barely hear the words against the noise of the subway. The message was short, not even ten seconds. What was the point of leaving a message if it was so quiet that it could barely be heard and so short that it could barely contain any useful information?

            Frustrated, I connected my headphones, turned up the volume as loud as it would go, and then replayed the message.

            “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

            The line went dead, but I could still hear the words rolling around in my skull. It had been a long time since I’d heard that voice. Not since I’d practically told him to leave me alone. But I would never forget the sound.

            My heart skipped one beat after another. It nearly choked the breath from my lungs. That was the only explanation I had for what I did.

            I closed my eyes and tried to calm my heartbeat as I waited for the call to connect. The seconds between each ring seemed to stretch out further and further. Almost as if the universe was giving me a chance to rethink what I was doing. To stop the manic stupidity that I was exhibiting in that moment.

            My finger hovered over the screen, ready to disconnect the call.

            “H-hello?”

            My heart clawed up my throat. “Hey.”

            For a moment, I thought the call had dropped. It sounded like nothing but static and then a prolonged silence.

            “Are you there?” I asked softly. My fingers trembled with anxiety.

            “I… Yeah, I’m here,” came the reply. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he sounded drunk. “I… Are you okay?”

            A warm, gentle sensation settled into my chest. Almost as if something I’d lost had fallen back into place again. I took a deep breath. When was the last time I’d been able to breathe this easily?

            “Good. I’m good.” The words were out before I could stop them. The huge lie that they were. “What about you?”

            He cleared his throat. I heard a rustle that sounded like he was rolling around in blankets. I looked at my watch. Had I got the time wrong?

            “You didn’t have to call,” Nick said after what felt like forever. “I didn’t expect you to. Honestly, I didn’t even expect you to listen to the message. If you even got it. For all I knew, you’d blocked my number.”

            I felt those words like a blow to my chest. He hadn’t said it to be hurtful. I knew that much about Nick Jackson. But it had hurt nonetheless, and it reminded me of how I’d treated this guy who’d been more than kind to me when I needed it most.

            “I—Why d’you think I’d do that?”

            Nick groaned. I heard a thump and wondered if he’d knocked his head back against the headboard. A memory rushed into me unbidden of falling asleep in Nick’s bed after everything that happened in Winnipeg. Realization settled over me. California had really been the last time I’d felt remotely safe or normal.

            “Last time we talked, you basically told me to get lost. I guessed from there.”

            Tears prickled my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but they came so fast that I couldn’t hold them back. So much had happened since the last time Nick and I had spoken. The weight of it all was suddenly the only thing I could think about. I couldn’t breathe through the tears.

            “I’m sorry, Nick,” I said, knowing the brokenness in my voice was evident. “I shouldn’t have called and dragged you back into my mess.”

            It sounded as if Nick let out a growl. “Am I going to get a say in anything that happens?” he spat angrily. “You and Matt… I’m a grown man. Let me act like it.”

            “I… Wait, what happened with Matt?”

            Nick huffed on the other end of the line. “We’re done. The Bucks are over. Matt still wants to wrestle in a trio with Kenny, even knowing everything that he did.”

            Bile burned the back of my throat. “Nick, please,” I whimpered, “don’t let what happened tear you guys apart. It isn’t worth it.”

            “It is to me. Because I don’t like it when people I love get hurt. Even if it’s other people I love who do it.”

_________________________________

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[spaghetti-hoop]

Welcome to Oblivion--Ch. 41

Chapter 41

            “I still hate this,” I said as I walked down the stairs toward the cage in the center of the gym. “Why do I keep doing this?”

            Roman tugged me a little closer to his side and kissed the top of my head. “Because you love him,” he replied. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “And you secretly like the blood.”

            “Don’t you dare,” I hissed, punching him in the ribs lightly. “You know I freak out every time he gets out of that cage.”

            “When was the last time he lost?” Seth asked from just behind us. It had been a week or so since we’d kissed and were still figuring out how we would manage our relationship. In public and in private. It seemed that we were going to take our time to find our groove and our place in this.

            Roman chuckled and looked over his shoulder. “He hasn’t lost since baby girl here started coming.”

            Heat rushed into my face. I reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear as my heart skipped a beat. “There was that one against… what’s his face…”

            “He didn’t lose that one, Addy,” he teased. “Almost, but he beat the count. Knocked Jones’ teeth down his throat afterward. Literally.”

            Seth led the way down the line of chairs toward our usual seats. We’d been to so many fights that they were practically reserved. “You’re his good luck charm.”

            “I wish I wasn’t,” I murmured. “I hate seeing him bloodied and bruised.”

            Before any of us could say another word, music blared through the room. My chest constricted as my heart pounded against my ribs. I knew that Dean’s fight would be later in the evening, but I still couldn’t get my anxiety under control. I bounced my leg and rubbed my palms back and forth on my jeans. My palms were sweaty. For a moment, I thought I was going to be sick.

            “Why didn’t you let me bring my bag?” I grumbled at Seth after the third fight. I’d wanted to bring my backpack to get some reading done before Dean was up. Anything to distract myself from the worry that something would happen.

            Seth reached out and curled his fingers around mine. He squeezed my hand and brought it up to his lips. His lips were soft against my knuckles. “Because you’re going to be fine.”

            Looking up into his chocolate eyes, I thought for a moment that he was right. For that brief second, my heart settled into a normal rhythm and my agitated movements slowed.

            Then they called Dean’s fight.

            I gulped hard against the bile threatening to climb up my throat. This was the moment that I dreaded the most. Watching him come into that cage with his fists taped up, his face clear of scrapes, scratches, bruises, and blood. Knowing exactly what was going to happen in the next few minutes was enough to send adrenaline rushing through my veins. I wanted to run, to get as far away as possible. I wanted to slap him with the hope of knocking some sense into him because talking just didn’t seem to work.

            Dean appeared from the locker room in his jeans and boots. I couldn’t understand how he could fight in them, or why they allowed him to, but he insisted. At the door to the cage, he toed off his boots and pushed them aside. Barefoot, he walked forward as he rocked his shoulders back and forth. The muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed beneath his skin. He looked toward us, cornflower eyes landing on me. A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth.

            Then his gaze drifted, and his smile faded. His lips twisted into a snarl as he slammed the cage door behind him.

            “Something’s pissed him off,” Seth said, leaning toward me. “Was he like that earlier?”

            I looked toward Dean and then back at Seth. “No. He was… grumpy. Not this.”

            “Fuck.” Roman’s voice drew my attention. I turned to him, a question on my lips as I followed the line of his gaze.

            Dean stood on the far side of the cage, brows drawn together and jaw set. My stomach turned upside down at the rage in his eyes.

            The bell rang and he launched himself at his opponent, right arm already cocked back. The moment he was within reach, Dean threw his body into the punch. It landed square on the other guy’s jaw, knocking his head sideways. He stumbled backward, and Dean followed, pressing him back toward the wall of the cage. Dean beat into his opponent, throwing a series of elbows against the side of his head and jabs into his kidneys.

            He backed up, putting space between them. He pivoted on his back foot and let go a kick against the other guy’s ribs. His opponent blocked the kick and swept his other leg out from under him. Dean landed hard on his back, his head bouncing against the mat. I screamed and nearly jumped out of my seat. The sound must have gotten Dean’s attention as he turned his head toward me. His blue eyes were unfocused for a moment before the rage returned to his face and he rolled back onto his shoulders. In the blink of an eye, he had pushed off with his shoulders and hands to kip up to his feet again.

            Dean took a deep breath, cracked his neck on each side, and then curled his fingers in a bring it on gesture. I felt sick watching his opponent run at him, throwing elbows against Dean’s jaw. He followed up with a series of body shots that looked like they knocked the wind out of him. A deep red mark started to bloom over Dean’s left kidney and another along his ribs.

            My stomach clenched. I gagged. I wanted to run.

            Blood oozed from a split in Dean’s lip from one of the elbow shots. He wiped his mouth with his hand, crimson streaking against the white tape. I saw him glance down at it, almost as if he were fascinated at the sight. The distraction was enough for his opponent to throw a cross that rocked Dean’s head up and to the side.

            “Dean!” I screamed and lunged toward the cage. My fingers laced through the steel wiring. I couldn’t stop myself, even though I knew that he didn’t need any other distractions. A pair of arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me backward, practically ripping my fingers from their hold on the cage. I kicked and fought. “Let me go!”

            The arms tightened and tried to turn me around. “Addy. Addy, calm down.” Seth’s voice whispered firmly in my ear. “Relax.”

            “He’s hurt. Dean’s hurt,” I whimpered, clawing at Seth’s hoodie covered forearms. “Let me go. He’s hurt!”

            “If you don’t calm down, we’re taking you out of here,” he threatened softly. “You’re going to get him knocked out running at the cage like that. Relax, sweets.”

            Adrenaline rushed through every cell in my body. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to run. I wanted to break into the cage to get him out. Even though the rational part of my brain knew that Seth was right, I couldn’t get past the sight of Dean so bloodied and beat up. It hadn’t ever been like this before.

            The sound of the bell reverberated through my bones. It sucked the air out of my lungs and the fight from my limbs. I sank back against Seth, grey edging the sides of my vision. I gasped for breath as tears rushed down my cheeks. There was no looking away from Dean as he stood on the other side of the cage. Red marks were already darkening into deep purple bruises. There was a gash on his jaw and another on his cheekbone, both oozing blood as his chest rose and fell as he panted.

            Our eyes met. For a moment, I thought I saw Dean’s blue eyes soften behind the obvious pain that clearly ran through his body. He looked back at me. Yearning lanced along my nerves. I just wanted to be where he was. He blinked and glanced away. My heart fell into my stomach as he squared up for the next round. Rage colored his features as the bell rang once again, launching him toward his opponent.

            I turned in Seth’s arms and hid my face against his shoulder. “I can’t watch anymore.”

            “Come on,” he said soothingly. “We’ll go out to the truck for a minute. Get some fresh air. It might help, sweets.”

            It was so hard to turn my back on the cage with Dean still inside. Since that very first time, I hadn’t missed one of Dean’s fights. I’d done everything it took to get there, to see him before he walked up those steps and after he ripped off the tape in the locker room. But now I couldn’t bear to watch. I couldn’t bear to listen, even though the sound of fists on flesh echoed against the rafters. My mind’s eye conjured up the worst possible images as Seth led me toward the exits.

            The moment we got outside, I doubled over retching and gagging. Seth rubbed the middle of my back even as he held my hair back with the other. The world spun around me. I couldn’t explain why I felt this way. Why, after all the fights I’d been to and how I’d actually started to enjoy them, I couldn’t bear to watch this time.

            “Deep breaths, Addy,” Seth murmured. “You’re good. Deep breaths.”

            I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “I can’t—”

            He shushed me gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Deep breaths, sweets.”

            Muffled noise erupted from the gym. I could just make out the sound of cheering and the loud dinging of the bell that indicated a fight was over. I practically collapsed onto the sidewalk when I realized what it meant.

            “Stay here, just a second. I’m gonna go see what happened.” Seth squeezed my fingers before he went back inside. A few minutes later, he reemerged with Roman in tow. “He won.”

            Momentary relief flooded my veins. But Seth’s next words opened the floodgates of worry once again. “He looks like he got run over by a Mack truck. But he won.”

            Roman sank into a crouch next to me. “He’s okay, Addy. Dean’s good.”

            “Comparatively,” Seth interjected. “Phil’s gonna need six weeks in the hospital and some massive rehab. Dean just broke at least twelve bones in that guy’s body.”

            “Seth?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Shut up. You’re not helping.” Roman gripped me by the elbows and pulled me gently to my feet. Everything went grey and hazy as the blood rushed from my head to my feet. If it weren’t for Roman, I would have fallen right back down onto the concrete. “Dean’s fine. He’s a big boy and can take care of himself.”

            “I… I-I need to see him,” I whimpered. Before either of them could say a word, I ran toward the doors. My feet carried me away from the gym and down the hallway to the locker rooms. I pounded on the door with the flat of my hand, screaming his name at the top of my lungs.

            After a few moments, the door yanked inward. “What?!”

            My eyes lifted, taking in each inch of Dean and cataloguing his injuries. There was a rip in the front of his jeans that revealed a raised red welt along his thigh. His torso was crisscrossed with bruises that were already turning purple. The one over his right kidney ran from the base of his ribs all the way down to his hipbone. Another spread down his breastbone, and I swore that it was the size and shape of someone’s foot. His knuckles were busted and bloody. He had a split chin, busted lip, a gash on his jaw and cheekbone, what looked like a black eye, and another cut through his left eyebrow.

            Tears filled my eyes, spilling down over my cheeks and dripping onto my shirt. His face blurred, but not before I saw the angry disconnection in his gaze. I reached my fingertips toward his chest. He took a step back.

            “Are you okay?” I brushed at the tears and tried to take a deep breath. My clearing vision brought his injuries back into sharp focus.

            Dean crossed his arms over his chest, showing off a few other welts on his forearms and biceps. “I’m fine. You can go now. I’m sure they’re waiting.”

            I felt myself recoil just as if he’d shoved me. “What…?”

            He leaned his shoulder against the door, wincing as it put pressure on the bruise along his side. “Go back to the apartment or the dorm. I’m good. It’s about time you and Seth had a little alone time, isn’t it? That’s your timeline, right? Don’t let me get in the way.”

            Before I could say a word, Dean backed away and slammed the door in my face.

__________________

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[spaghetti-hoop]

Necklace

The Reader is drenched in a sudden downpour. She has to borrow some dry clothes. Ricky likes seeing her in his things, and makes sure she know it in the most intimate way possible.

Pairing: Ricky Starks x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, boss/underling dynamic (consensual), oral (female receiving), P-in-V, Ricky’s hand as a necklace/light choking, cream pie

Word Count: 3330

Note: Holy shit, this is filth. Can you tell I miss seeing this man on my screen on Dynamite and the like? Also, I used to work at a place that sold those snap-sided joggers. They were murder to keep on the hanger, and probably annoying in practice. But in theory... inspirational.

Bonus: the gifset that inspired this fic

There’s nothing like getting caught in a New Orleans humidity shower. The weatherman can warn all he likes. They’re always sudden. They come out of nowhere. And you are guaranteed to be soaked in seconds.

Which was why Ricky laughed in your face when he finally answered his door.

“Sorry about that.” He stepped to one side so you could drip your way into his house. “I was on the back porch when you rang and—”

“Mhmm. Sure.” You playfully shot him a glare. There was a bucket by his door for such occasions. You rung out your shirt into it. Even having been in the deluge, you were still surprised how much water came out of the fabric.

“Strip.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Ricky laughed and stepped back. “You’re soaked through. Leave your clothes here. I’ll be back in a minute with a towel and some of my things.” He quickly kissed your cheek on his way out.

To his credit, he didn’t peek when he brought back a brightly colored beach towel and an extra set of his training clothes. The sweatshirt was oversized and would have been coverage enough. But Ricky’s house was equipped with that Louisiana AC. You knew the second you stepped into the living room, as damp as you were, you’d freeze. His long track pants were the kind that had snaps up the side. Easy to get out of for runners before meets, and for wrestlers before matches. You made sure they were snapped together at least as low as your knee, leaving the rest of the fabric to sway. As for your underclothes, you added them to the pile that you tossed into his dryer. When you stepped into the living room, you almost thought to snap the track pants down to your ankles and to ask for socks.

You sat on the edge of the couch where you could reach the coffee table. “Why do you keep your house so cold?” At your fingertips was all the paperwork planning and plotting out his next couple of feuds. You picked up the one closest: a half-baked plan to take revenge on Big Bill for abandoning him to join Jericho.

Ricky settled next to you in matching snap-pants and a tank top. “Because it’s hot outside. And it’s better to freeze the humidity in the house than to try and survive it. Trust me.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

He bumped his shoulder into yours. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say. Boss.”

For the next two hours you two fleshed out the plans. Especially that first one with Bill. Together you came up with how to initiate the feud. The number of matches and how many weeks Ricky would take up screentime. You tweaked the climax fight, suggesting parallels to their tag matches, and adding moments to deal with Jericho at ringside. Bill liked you, and liked working with you when he and Ricky were a team. So, you had no reservations about pitching him some ideas later for promos and such.

About forty-five minutes into planning was when you noticed something hanging from Ricky’s neck. It was that little gold cross pendant. With the way he was leaned forward, it dangled into thin air. And your mind wandered. The pendant dangling in your face as he filled you, whispering the dirty things he was yet to do to you. But you had cleared your throat and moved on. There was work to do.

About twenty minutes after that, Ricky had released some of his snaps; up to his mid-thigh. Your mind wandered again. Riding that thigh. Rolling your hips as best you could, but his hands guiding your hips. All the while his mouth working miracles on your throat. But you shuffled the papers in your hands and moved on. It had been ages since you two had enjoyed each other’s company. And today didn’t have time for another fling.

Around the two-hour mark, he was animated and working through one of the promos you’d outlined. His hands moved through the air like punctuation. He didn’t speak at ring-volume. But you could still hear the passion in his voice. He ran through it a few times; adjusting where he added emphasis here, or lowering his voice instead of raising it there. All the while, you couldn’t take your eyes off his hands.

How they gripped the air. How his fingers splayed wide, or curled, or any other series of movements that made you shift in your seat.

He was oblivious. Until he came to the end of his run-through. “How was that?” When you didn’t answer, he finally glanced over at you, still holding up his hands where they’d been. “Hello?” Ricky’s slow grin spread as he followed you gaze. Bringing his posed hand closer to your face, he finally snapped his fingers. “Now, Ms. Y/L/N. What have I told you about objectifying me?”

Startled, you stammered. “I’m- I’m not objectifying you.” Clearing your throat, you sat down one stack of papers to pick up another. “I was… deep in thought. That last run was good. The pause was better than the last run.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” Ricky darted his tongue out to wet his lips, catching you staring from the corner of your eyes. “We should take a break.” Slapping his hands on the tops of his thighs, he ignored the way you jumped and headed towards his kitchen. “What’cha want? I made lemonade yesterday, or there’s always Coke…”

“No,” you squeaked. “I’m good.”

His silence lulled you into thinking he was long gone. You glanced over the sheets you picked up. Another half-baked feud. Wouldn’t take much to work it out though. Oh, but you’d have to call- You gasped as Ricky’s hands gently landed on your shoulders, sliding down your arms. They kept traveling down until Ricky could lean comfortably and press his cheek to yours.

“Perhaps you’d like a different kind of break?”

Your breath stuttered in your chest. All you could manage was to shake your head.

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled his nose behind your ear, smiling when you let out a shuddering sigh. “We’ve been working so hard. You deserve to take it easy.”

“To take what easy?”

Chuckling, he smiled against your cheek. “Mmm. I can think of at least one thing.” He began to kiss under your jaw. And to squeeze your arms still caught in his strong hands.

You tried, “it’s too hot-”

“You’ve been freezing since you walked in the door.”

“I wonder why that is?” you teased, glancing up at him. “Mr. Starks… have you been planning this since the beginning?”

He inhaled deeply, bobbing his head to one side in thought. “Not entirely. But I do feel bad that you got all wet,” he drawled. “Maybe I want to make it up to you.”

His kisses traveled from one side of your neck, back under your hair, to the other side. He stretched a hand across your chest to run over your collarbone. When it reached your other shoulder, you leaned into the forearm that caught under your chin.

“We should get back to work,” you breathed.

“We should.”

His hands caught your wrists where you tried to disengage yourself. Taking both into one hand, he held your arms to one side so the other could play with the neckline of your borrowed sweatshirt.

“People talk enough as it is.”

“Do they?”

“You’re my boss.”

“And what about it?”

His roaming touch dipped under the fabric to feel how your chest heaved.

“You’ll – you’ll stretch out the neckline.”

Ricky growled in your ear. “Does it feel like I give a damn?” He searched for your bra strap so he could snap it against your shoulder like he usually did. But all he could find was your flushed skin. “Where – where is it?”

“In the dryer with the rest of my clothes.”

“Hmm.” Sliding his hands under your arms, he lifted you up to sit on the back of the plush couch. He turned you around so he could slot himself between your thighs. To keep you from toppling backwards into the seats, he wrapped his arms around your waist. Which brough you nose to nose. “Tell me again. Whose been planning what from the start?”

Your lips trembled, and your hands flexed where they rested on his biceps. The hunger to kiss him as deeply as you were able was growing. “I wasn’t planning anything. I was just trying not to catch a cold.”

His lips ghosted over yours. “Alright. Then let’s warm you up, shall we?”

You met him tilt for tilt. While you leaned into his chest, he leaned towards you. It kept you precariously leaned back over the couch. The angle also further pressed your front into his, where you could feel what he had prepared. You dug your hands into his hair. Lightly dragging your nails across his scalp pushed his moan into your waiting mouth, and rolled his hips into yours.

“Ricky—”

“Hmm?”

“Need you.”

“You’ve got me.”

You had to roll your eyes. He knew he had you. But, like when you first started working for him, he didn’t have a more distant plan. You did. “No. Need you… on something flat.” Though he resisted, eventually you were able to push him away.

His head tilted to the side. “Flat? Like… the floor?” He wasn’t averse to the idea and was strongly considering taking you across his whole house when you spoke up.

“I was thinking somewhere more comfortable. Like… your bed?” Taking his wrist, you began to lead him that direction.

But he spun you, pinning you to the wall outside his bedroom door. “This is flat.”

“It’s vertical.”

His heated gaze across your skin took on a wicked gleam. Gently, he smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip. Softly he noted, “when has that ever stopped us?”

He had a point. There was that time in Nashville when he filled you against a bathroom stall wall in some honky-tonk. Or Toledo. When he was so jazzed up after his match that you didn’t make it to his dressing room, using some dark spot in a hallway. Or San Antonio. Where he ate you out while you were pinned to the inside of your hotel room door. You had held both hands over your mouth to keep from waking the whole floor. And there were so many other times. Most of them clandestine and hidden from the rest of the roster. But here of late, Ricky was less and less prone to hiding his feelings for you.

While you reminisced, Ricky’s hand slid up your front to around your neck. His thumb and forefinger squeezed lightly at your sweet spots to bring you back to the moment. His mouth hung open. With his eyes greedily drinking up how your body reacted to the memories. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip.

“No,” you murmured, “it’s never stopped us before.”

Just as you leaned forward to kiss him, he leaned back with a smirk. He dragged you the rest of the way into his bedroom. His mouth was all over before you finally toppled onto his sheets. He kept you pinned there, at the foot of the bed, instead of letting you shimmy your way up. Pulling the neckline of his sweatshirt to the side, he sucked what would turn into a dark mark into your skin. It would only be a little difficult to hide. His fingertips toyed with the bottom edge of the fabric.

“I like you in my sweatshirt. Maybe the next show, I’ll make you wear one of my t-shirts.”

“People might talk.”

“Does it look like I give a damn?” He smothered you with a deep, possessive kiss. But trepidation stilled his movements. He leaned back. “Do you give a damn?”

After a pause, you smiled. “Not in the slightest.” You dragged him back down to you. When you broke away for air, the cross pendant was dangling in your face. You were dazzled by it. Arching up, you nosed at it, making it spin, and caught it between your teeth.

Ricky watched you, enraptured. When he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, the cool metal draped across the side of your face. His hands finally travelled up your torso under his sweatshirt. Flipping up the fabric, he was finally rewarded with one of his favorite views. His hands, warm and trembling against your skin, slid up to cup under your breasts. He kneaded them, squeezing them and rolling the buds between his fingers. You arched into each touch and shift. You twirled your fingers into his hair. With the way Ricky had his body leaning over you, you couldn’t roll your hips into his. So there was nothing to relieve the growing desire between your thighs.

The kiss Ricky placed between your breasts stole your breath away. As did each following touch of his lips to your skin as he traveled down your body. He drifted fare enough down that your hands lost their grip in his locks.

The you heard the snaps.

One by one, Ricky worked his way up one leg, then the other, to help you out of his trackpants. Soon, only the four paired snaps kept the fabric attached around your waist. Instead of releasing you, he began to kiss up and down the inside of your thighs.

You groaned out, “Ricky—”

“Hmm?”

“Please…”

He smirked against your skin. “What, Cherie?”

Inwardly, your groan stretched out. He was planning something. Probably your sex-led demise. With a whimper, you thought about begging. “Why are you taking so long? I thought-“

“I said we needed a break. Maybe it needs to be a one-to-one break. We worked for a couple of hours, so now I can take a couple of hours to take care of you.”

With a groan, you fell back into the sheets. This man could accomplish a lot in just ten minutes. And infinitely more with hours to spend.

Distracted by that threat, you didn’t hear the last few snaps. Or feel Ricky smoothing his hands up and down your thighs. But when he dove in to flatten his tongue against your sex, you gasped loudly. His ministrations were just as loud. You covered your mouth so you could hear his pleased sounds.

“Nuh-uh,” he warned, leaning his head against the inside of your thigh. “Wanna hear you. Come on. We don’t have to hide here.”

Again, you thought about that time in San Antonio, pinned to the door inside your hotel room. But you also thought about that one time at the Buck’s summer party when he bent you over the bathroom sink while everyone else was outside watching the fireworks. And New Years in Atlanta. Counting down the seconds when everyone would shout, trying to time it to cover up your own shout of release.

Ricky was thinking about those times too. Among others. His devouring of you quickened. Eyes drifting shut, soon the only thing firing in his mind was the taste of you on his tongue, the sound of you on his sheets, and the pulsing of you around his curling fingers. You tried to warn him of your incoming release. But he knew you to well. He saw the signs. And sped up his movements until you fell apart. He grinned, hearing you cry out his name. Your release, he did his best to taste every drop of it. But now he couldn’t ignore the overwhelming presence of his own pressure. He let loose the last remaining snaps on his pants to give himself room to breathe.

But when he stood up, your thighs clamped down around one of his. Ricky watched as you slid your slick up and down his thigh. He leaned into it. When your whines finally passed through the haze glazing his view, he reached out to thumb over your clit. Here was another one of his favorite views. Looking up there was another. Your hair was slicking to the side of your face. Your eyes were closed. Your mouth open, panting and making the most adorable sounds. All for him.

“Ricky,” you breathed, cracking open your eyes, “need you. Please.” You held out your hand.

He slid his hand into yours. And slid his hard length between your folds covered in slick. Still sensitive, you shivered. But he kept moving. Each thrust of his hips sparkled your every nerve ending, while he frantically chased the sensation of you. You, just like this; already sexed-out and wanting more from him. More that he was very willing to give.

You clawed your free hand his bicep as he filled you. The stretch of him blurred your vision. Once he was completely surrounded by you, he braced his forearms on either side of your head. The necklace around his throat dragged across the valley between your breasts. Cool at first, it soon warmed. As if warmed by the friction of it moving across your skin. Or maybe it was warmed by the friction of Ricky filling and pulling away from you, and filing you.

Nose to nose, you tried to remember to breathe while Ricky had his wonderfully wicked way with you. He was whispering things into your forehead, and into the curve of your neck. But you could only catch every third word or so. “Mine,” and “so good,” and “perfect” and “mine.”

You also tried to keep your eyes open. But that was futile until he pleaded with you.

“Come on, baby. Let me see you. Open your eyes. So close. You gonna cum with me?”

All you could manage was to nod and rapidly blink your vision into focus.

Which is when he reached between you and heavily circled his fingers over your clit. Vision blurring again, it whited out at the corners. You dug your nails into his back, whimpering his name.

“There you are,” he said. “There’s my woman. Only mine.”

He kept moving.

You gave up trying to match rolling your hips to his pace. Ricky would be done when he was done with you. And that could be forever. But he wanted to see you.

Ricky’s hand gently settled at the base of your throat. The barest of squeezes helped you focus.

“Come on. Baby. Stick with me. Almost there.”

His grip tightened the closer he got. Your breath came out tighter and tighter. Each pant was shorter, desperate for air and his release.

As his pace statured, he let you go. Your whole body reacted to the influx of oxygen, and carried Ricky down into a spiral of relief. He did his best to not crush you underneath as his arms gave out. But you didn’t have a care in the living world. You were thrumming. And full of him. And glowing from the inside out. He heaved himself to one side, curling you into his embrace while you both caught your breath.

After a few minutes, Ricky got up for some running shorts. He came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up with a gentle tenderness. He also gently removed the snap-pants from under your body. Teasing, he tsked, “oh, no. You’ve made a mess of my runners.” He tossed the pants to one side and stood between your thighs. “I’m out of other things for you to wear. Whatever shall we do?”

You pushed him away so you could stand, if a bit wobbly at first. Staring him down, you tugged down his sweatshirt till it, barely, covered you ass. “We go over more paperwork.” You reached up to adjust his necklace so it didn’t hang sideways. He was close behind when following you back to the living room. And it didn’t take two hours the next time for him to lose composure and ravage you again.

***

Fanfiction Masterlist

Wrestling/WWE Masterlist

[spaghetti-hoop]

Nowhere to Run--Ch. 60

Chapter 60

            He wasn’t entirely fond of the idea, but it was a compromise that Jericho was more than willing to make. Hell, he’d known a long time ago that he couldn’t say no to Kat Prince. When she’d asked this of him, he’d had no choice but to agree.

            It surprised him how much being away from Kat and the baby made his heart constrict with worry. They were literally a few dozen feet down the hallway, yet it still felt like they were on the other side of the country. The memory of the aching longing that he’d felt every time he had to put Kat back on a plane to California settled in his chest so strongly that it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

            Jericho stopped outside the door to Kat’s room. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t like this one little bit. “Go on,” he grumbled, jerking his head toward the door. As Jack Perry shuffled past him, he couldn’t help but murmur, “Stubborn ass woman.”

***

            Déjà vu hit Jack hard as he closed the door behind him. The flood of memories almost took his breath, only this time it was Kat in the hospital bed. She had been his best friend for years. Without her, he wouldn’t have been able to weather the pain of losing his father. He’d loved her fiercely and wanted nothing more from his life but to wrestle and marry her. But that last one had fallen apart not too long after they laid his dad to rest.

            God knew that he still loved her in many ways. He’d been protective of her since the day they’d met. He remembered moments between them that were best put away and forgotten. But he would never doubt the fact that he loved Kat Prince.

            “Are you going to be an asshole?” Kat asked out of nowhere, steel in her voice.

            Jack couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “I’ll try my best.”

            There was silence for a moment before an answering grin crossed Kat’s face. “Come here.” She held one hand out to him. With the other, she cradled a bundle of blankets against her chest.

            His knees felt like water as he crossed the room to stand by the bed. Kat took his hand and tugged him closer, tilting the bundle closer to him. Jack looked at the little girl that he’d been the first to hold. She was awake, her wide blue eyes watching him with a knowing look. Her dark hair looked just like Kat’s. She had round little cheeks and chubby little fists that waved toward him every now and then.

            Jack was wholly unprepared for the rush of feeling that crashed over him.

            “Thank you, Jack Jack,” she said softly as she squeezed his hand. “Without you…”

            He sank down on the side of the bed and ran his free hand over his hair nervously. “Is she okay? Are you okay?”

            Kat turned her attention toward the baby and smiled. “She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

            Something like a heavy weight dropped off him. He hadn’t realized how much fear he’d harbored for the safety of both of them. “What about you?”

            “Sore as fuck. Mildly traumatized,” she laughed. “But I’m okay. Because you were there and did everything right.”

            He sat there in silence for a moment, looking between the two of them. The same sense of protectiveness that he’d always felt for Kat poured into him as the baby watched him with those wide blue eyes.

            “Here,” she said, pulling her hand away and holding the baby toward him. “Hold her.”

            Jack’s heart thundered in his chest as he took the baby from her. He held her carefully as he bounced her gently. She looked up at him, waving her fist in the air. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed those chubby fingers.

            Kat looked at him with her dark eyes. Eyes that reflected a strange mixture of hope, worry, and confusion. All of it overlaid with a cautious fear. Jack couldn’t blame her. The words he’d said to her, the way he’d acted for the last two years… he was ashamed of the way he’d behaved. He’d been so caught up in his own feelings that he hadn’t stopped to think of how she felt.

            “Kat… I—” Jack stopped and took a deep breath. His guts churned as if he were going to be sick. The baby wrapped her hand around his fingers as if to give him support. “I don’t know why you want me here. After everything…”

            She closed her eyes for a moment. He could see the memories of everything running across her face. That day in her apartment ran through his mind. He’d been drunk, but it didn’t excuse what he’d said. The rage that had rushed through him at the news she was with Chris Jericho had overwhelmed everything else. Even his love for Kat.

            Because that’s what it had been. He loved her. He was still as in love with her now as he had been that day in the hospital when his father passed. When he’d realized that she was happy but not happy with him, it had nearly broken his heart. But he’d promised himself that he would be her friend. That he would do everything that his father had asked of him. To help Kat be happy.

            The thought struck Jack hard in the chest. He felt like he was choking.

            Luke would have been so ashamed of him.

            “I’m sorry, Kat,” he said at last, his voice coming out in a gravely rush. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. I still…”

            Kat gave him a faint smile. “I know. So do I. But—”

            “He’s better for you. You love him more.”

            “Differently,” she whispered. “You’re my best friend, Jack Perry. And you always will be. Chris can’t change that, and I really want my best friend back.”

            Adjusting the baby in his arms, he reached out to take her hand. He squeezed her fingers tightly. “The day Dad died, when I went into his room after you, he asked me to do one thing for him when it came to you. He asked me to help you be happy. The last two years… I’m let him down so much. Because I’ve been so fucking selfish.”

            Kat turned her hand over and threaded her fingers with his. “I want my friend back. I need him back.

            Jack squeezed his eyes shut, tears brushing past his lashes and slipping down his cheeks into his beard. “Can you forgive me, Kat? For everything I said and did. For letting you down.”

            She took a deep breath and set her eyes on him. Her face changed as if she were having an argument within herself. For a moment, he thought he could hear her heart beating.

            “Will you be her godfather, Jack?”

            “What?” He felt absolutely stupid. “What? Jericho…”

            “Don’t argue,” Kat said firmly. “Otherwise, we have a big problem.”

            His brown eyes met hers. “Why?”

            “We’re going to have to change her name.”

***

            It was so hard to hold back the laughter at the look on Jack’s face. It was like he’d been slapped. The expression on his face was the same as he’d had that day in my apartment, but this time it was kinder. Gentler in his surprise.

            My heart felt heavy and light all at once. Hearing Jack apologize for everything he’d done was enough to make me feel like hundreds of pounds had fallen away from my shoulders. I couldn’t necessarily forget the hurt he’d caused, but I could try to move forward until they became a faded, fuzzy memory.

            “What?”

            I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Her name, dumbass. If you don’t say yes, we have to change her name. And that’s going to be really annoying.”

            Jack’s eyes glittered. I realized he was about to cry.

            “We named her Louise.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Louise Jacklyn Antonia. For you and Tony. For Luke.”

***

            Jericho walked away from Kat’s hospital room, one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair back from his face. He was tired. There was a fatigue settled into his bones, and he couldn’t explain why. Old worries came rushing back to the surface. Could he be a good father? Was he too old to be a father? Would he be able to be there for their daughter? For Kat?

            And he hated the fact that he worried that Kat would change. Not physically—it didn’t matter to him. But what if she didn’t want him in the same way anymore? What if she didn’t want to go back into the Playroom? Jericho loved Kat Prince for every single thing about her—her intelligence, her tenacity, her focus, her laughter, her beauty—and the idea that he couldn’t love her this way anymore made him feel sick.

            “Chris!”

            He looked up at the sound of his name. The Inner Circle sat around in a circle in the waiting room. Santana had called for him, waving him over toward the boys. As he walked over, Jericho looked around. Members of the AEW staff and roster had filled up the small lobby. Tony Khan sat in the corner on the phone.

            “How’s mamí doing?” Ortiz asked as Chris sank down into a chair facing them.

            Chris couldn’t help but smile. “Sore, but good. They’re both amazing.”

            “Then why the long face, boss?” Jake asked quietly. It was something that very few people ever knew about the big man. He was smarter than he looked and more observant than most knew.

            “Worrying about fatherhood. About how things are going to change.”

            Santana leaned forward to look at him. “Yeah, things are going to change. You’ve got this new being to look after. Kat’s gonna be a little different for a while. Let her adjust to being a mother.” He cracked a smile. “And you might be old as hell, but you’re going to be a good father, Chris.”

            He laughed despite himself. “That’s not the only thing I’m worried about.”

            He looked down at his hands. At his fingers. He took a breath.

            An idea came to him.

___________________________________

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[spaghetti-hoop]

11 a.m.

After running a few morning errands, you and Eddie decide to squeeze in just one more task...

Eddie Kingston!husband x Fem Reader | 18+, NSFW, fluff, smut | 1,942 words

Happy reading! Read my first Eddie fic and other stuff here, if you'd like. ✨

It was early morning, a calm, slow morning, and our house was still and silent with warm sunrays spilling through the curtains of each window and onto the wooden tile that we scurried across, in a rush to get to our bedroom.

Our shoes, his Timbs and my Doc Martens, scuffed the floor to add sound to the quiet, other sounds floating into the air like our lips smacking and weaving together in a hurried yet sweet kiss; like our hands fumbling along our bodies in an effort to remove our clothes; and like our hushed breaths that softly slipped into moans as we fondled each other.

We only separated when we tumbled into bed, finally those clothes in the way, his tee shirt and jeans and my mini sundress, hastily hitting the floor before we clung to each other again. The sounds of our whimpers between kisses and the sheets rustling as Eddie shuffled under them with me to snuggle himself between my legs and kiss me was comforting—as although my husband knew the love he wanted to make to me would be swift, he still took a few moments to get settled in with me, tug the sheets over us to hold our warmth, and hold my face with his soft lips on mine to nearly whisper in his handsome, gravelly voice, "Who told you to be so damn irresistible, huh?"

I couldn't help but giggle, the faint sound trembling throughout my body against him. He breathed a laugh, too, before he gave me another kiss on my lips and then my neck, turning my giggle into an airy moan. My hands found his head to cradle, flitting over his broad shoulders and down his back to settle on his hips, frantic to touch him and chase more of the good feeling we had conjured up while out running errands, our coffee, bank, and grocery stops, that Saturday morning. 

It had started with Eddie trying and failing to discreetly and playfully grab and spank me as we strolled through the farmer's market, making me chuckle and swat at his hands as he said, "You put on that dress knowin' what it does to me, sweetheart. Now c'mere..."

And it would have ended after we huddled our groceries into his truck if I hadn't gripped his bulge that throbbed on his denim-covered thigh as he drove us home. 

"You askin' for trouble when we get home..." he warned me in a cute growl and bit his lip when I lightly squeezed my fingers around his length as it twitched, his icy blue eyes warm as they glanced at mine.

"Don't threaten me with a good time. Now keep your eyes on the road and get us home, baby..."

"Ohhh, sshhit, baby," I mumbled with a moan when Eddie slid inside, my thighs pushed back with his forearms as he planted his hands on the bed. I felt wide open, already growing fuzzy with warm pleasure flooding me from head to toe as he moved his hips to gently thrust deeper. He didn't even have to use his full length to get me this close to climaxing this soon as his thick tip curved slightly downward and perfectly curved on my g-spot, stroking it with snug precision, as did his round belly that steadily rubbed up on my tender clit.

We both knew I wouldn't last long and yet he wouldn't either as our lovemaking often resulted in quickies. If it wasn't from me, it was from him and his tired back from years of catching hard falls in and out of the ring with it. It made missionary one of our favorite positions and the mission was sometimes short, but I didn't mind as I wanted my Eddie comfortable more than anything...just like he wanted me to cum more than anything.

I groaned to him with a tremble again when he shifted to wrap his arms around me as his thrusts nudged to the back of my pussy, making me feel full of him, full of heated bliss, and feel him leave silky kisses on my cheek with his warm breath soothing my skin as he murmured, "How you feelin', ma? Feel like you gonna cum for me?"

"Fffuuuck yes, baby...I'm about t'cum," I moaned in a ragged breath as I draped my arms over his shoulders, my fingertips digging into his warm skin at his nape as he kissed my throat and hooked my right thigh to sit higher on his waist. His smooth, languid strokes began to pound into me now, nailing my g-spot over and over until I felt like I was glowing white-hot before I exploded, my moans turning sharper, whinier, and desperate. Eddie could barely say something sexy to encourage my orgasm as it happened abruptly, my thighs shaking wildly around him and my pussy fluttering on him.

"Damn, sweetheart, already? I feel that good in you, huh?" Eddie asked with a quiet, little chuckle in my ear and a kiss on my jaw. I nodded as best as I could as I met his gaze through dreamy, low-lidded eyes and used my hands on his face to pull him into a messy kiss, both of us moaning into it. 

I found it adorable that he teased me while he was also starting to shake, his thrusts sinking into me harder, choppier, especially when I cinched my thighs around him to keep him deep in it and whined in his ear, "Cum, baby...please."

That made Eddie let out a beautiful grunt as we held each other with our arms and our eyes, stuck on one another, and how pleasure held us both as his beautiful face began to contort. His eyes flickered away from mine for just a moment, just to look at how my pussy was still clenching around him from my strong orgasm, his delicious strokes keeping the feeling strong before his throaty moans stammered to me, "Unghh, god, sweetheart...I-I'm cummin'..."

His hips stammered, as well, with his orgasm and I loved how he stuttered to stop to let me feel him pulse and pump inside me before he fucked it into me. I loved how he kept his arms around me, his lips on me, and then his entire, warm heft as he rested on me. I just loved him.

"I love you," I breathed beneath him, feeling our hearts in our chests thudding together as we cuddled, delightfully exhausted.

"Yeah, you love me? Love you, too. Love you very much," Eddie grumbled with a small, precious smile, trying to catch his breath as he collapsed at my side. He kept his arm under my neck like a pillow as he slung his other one around my waist and pulled me to him. His big, slightly rough palm kneaded my curves on his way up my body until he took my chin and placed a delicate kiss on my lips. Altogether, we might have lasted eleven minutes and he lightly laughed as he panted, "We should win some sort of world record for that, dontcha think?"

"You've made me cum quicker before," I reminded him and he pretended to be offended with a hand he slapped to his hairy chest.

"Well, excuse me, darlin', for not bein' up to par today. I happen to think makin' you cum in three minutes is pretty damn quick."

"You're right, you're right. And you should do it again..." I purred with my head on his shoulder. I let my fingers swirl on his pecs, then his belly, and lastly his dick beneath the sheets, still warm and slick from our love juices and stiffening once more from my coaxing caresses. He tried to lay still but when he twitched with a long sigh rolling from his lips that rolled into a moan, I knew he wanted to do it again, too. I loved the sound of it and inhaled the next one with a kiss. 

"Damn, ma...you want some more of me?" Eddie purred back to me with another moan as he stood to attention in my hand that slowly slipped up and down on him, his hand slipping to the back of my head that nodded as our kiss deepened. "You know what to do then, baby..."

And I did as my husband was no energizer bunny, even with decades of leaving it all in the squared circle. I preferred he remained comfortable on his back as I climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and massaging his chest and belly that I grinded against when I felt it pressed on my clit.

"Mmm, my god," I mewled, more to myself, after I reached behind me to guide him inside me. It would never fail to impress me how turned on my husband made me, how perfect his body felt on and in me, and how quickly my orgasm built because of it all. I had only just sat down after taking my time to work him in, but the harmony of his dick nestled deep with his luscious curve nuzzling on my g-spot as his belly grazed my clit had me whimpering to him. I felt warm all over with tingling, sweet pressure that hunched me over as my hands squeezed his shoulders for support. 

"Eddieee," I gasped with my head hung down as that succulent, consuming warmth swallowed me up. He squeezed me back, grasping at my hips while his beautiful face studied me carefully, still impressed that he made me feel this good. But I could only enjoy his gorgeous eyes for a second before I shut mine, surrendering to my second orgasm as I rocked on him and shuddered in his hands.

"God...look atcha. Sayin' my name all soft like that," Eddie uttered, his grip on me tight before he gently laced his fingers around my throat to make me look at him. "Look at this pretty face. You're so beautiful, sweetheart. You look like an angel fuckin' yourself like this with my dick...shit...you gonna make yourself cum on it?"

He knew it from how I could barely nod as my orgasm crashed into me hard, such a contrast from his silky voice as he let little moans slip, too, and watched me fall apart, fall onto him, overwhelmed and weak with pleasure to keep upright. His hands fell to my butt and helped me grind it out as I sobbed on his chest. "That's it...let it all out, ma. You sound heavenly cryin' for me."

His low, raspy moans sounded heavenly to me, too, even more so when he surprised me with his own orgasm that suddenly surged through him and in me. We moaned together then as he held me down on his dick, my name on his tongue before a soft curse was on his lips from how he lazily rolled his hips up and into me. 

I could tell from the way the sunlight crept into our bedroom beyond the blinds that it had to be no later than 11 a.m. as we liked to get up and get out early for our weekend errands...but the subtle rise and fall of Eddie's chest, and his tiny snores, let me know my husband had fallen back asleep underneath me.

Only a few minutes had passed after we loved on each other a second time, and I couldn't help but giggle at him. Yet I didn't move from Eddie as I realized I, too, was drowsy again and cozy enough to rest, especially with his arm slugged around me to keep me close to him and his warmth.

.

.

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Thanks for reading! ❤️

���🏾 tagging my Eddie peeps: @jeyusos-girl @yugiohio @missdesiree81 @iguessilikewrestlingnow @mydemonexorcist (if you like Eddie, let me know I'll tag you in the next one!)